Dean licks his lips. "You know how you could help me, Cas? I mean really, really help me?"
"How?" Cas asks, his voice soft, gaze already tracking down to Dean's lips and getting stuck.
"Come here," Dean murmurs, heart thumping heavy in his chest, a turmoil of want stinging the base of his throat, stealing his breath away.
Cas wavers again for a long moment, swaying in and out like Dean has his own gravitational pull. Dean's hot all over, flushed. He had Cas, and fuck if he doesn't still want him. Right now. Right here. It's a bad idea. It's the worst idea. Dean couldn't find a fuck to give if his life depended on it.
The anticipation of it threatens to take his pitiful amount of restrain and snap it. Personal space seems so stupid suddenly, in retrospect. Cas not being close, not being as close as he can get, it's the dumbest thing Dean has ever thought up.
Cas takes a step closer, breath shuddering out of him the same time that Dean's breath hitches. It's going to be a mistake, of course it is, but Dean has made so many in his life that this one will likely be the healthiest one he ever gives into. The sleeping dogs are stirring, and it's not going to end well. It's really not. Dean wants them to wake up and howl.
"How is this helping?" Cas asks, close enough to reach out and touch. Solid. Real. Right fucking there and so goddamn achingly beautiful that it hurts.
"It's helping. I'm feeling better already, sweetheart. Come here, come—" Dean bites off the end of his sentence when Cas moves in, easing around the counter until they're so close they're sharing the same pocket of air—must be a little thin because neither of them are breathing right.
He cares, he wants me, he was mine once, Dean thinks a little deliriously, nearly shaking from how brittle all of this feels, like one touch might shatter it all apart and reveal that it was only a mirage.
Cas' hand is suddenly cupping his cheek, face hovering closer, those blue eyes fluttering shut. Dean instantly feels drunk. His eyes droop. He's got that giddy, bubbly feeling like he's ten feet tall and capable of saving the world. Nothing hurts. Everything feels safe and far away, just this gathering him up and stealing his focus.
Cas wrenches backwards as Dean's eyes snap open, and it's like a spell has been lifted and broken. They both skitter away from each other to opposite sides of the counter, breathing hard, turning to stare at Sam, who looks like he has never actually regretted anything more in his life.
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