DeanCas Coda to 14x12: Prophet and Loss
There is something about him—forearms resting on the counter, head hanging between his hands—that is unequivocally gorgeous. Despite the weariness in his shoulders, despite the tension in the line of his spine, the fact that he’s here at all, leaning over the sink, breathing and whole and bathed in dim yellow light is the most beautiful thing Castiel has ever seen.
It takes him a moment too long to come back to himself—like a bear waking from hibernation, Dean pushes himself upright, dazed and unhappy for only a fraction of a second before forcing a smile to stretch across his mouth. He looks ragged. Exhausted. He’d driven straight home like hellfire had been licking at his heels.
Castiel doesn’t remember crossing the kitchen, but he comes back to himself in the midst of squeezing Dean tightly to his body. He knows they don’t do this, normally; he knows Dean prefers a clapped hand over the should or on his chest, and if hugging is necessary, then it needs to be short—but Cas bring himself to care. He buries his face in Dean’s neck, inhaling like he’s starved for breath, fingers curling to press against his shoulders, chests and hips flush. It takes a moment, but Dean slowly allows himself to curl forward. Another minute and he’s draping himself over Cas’s frame, clutching at him kitten-weak and desperate.
“Thank you,” Castiel breathes into his skin. “I know this was hard, but Dean, thank you.”
“Thought we couldn’t save everyone?” Dean mumbles into the hug. Something about speaking put strength in his arms. He grips tighter, pulls closer. Cas can feel his heartbeat against his own chest. It’s racing.
Castiel pulls every ounce of courage he has left in his body to turn his head and brush lips against the shell of Dean’s ear. “You will always be my exception,” he whispers.
Dean gives a full body shudder, and Castiel feels something warm and lovely open within him, radiating out from his chest all the way to his fingertips. He knows, somehow, that he could kiss him. That he could lean back and tilt Dean’s chin up and he’d be met with wholehearted and enthusiastic consent. And then, well—then he’d be…
Instead, Cas says, “I’ll protect you ’til my last,” and means, I’ll never leave you. He says: “We’ll find another way,” instead of, I love you.
And then he steps back with more regret than he knows what to do with.
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