from this prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting
The first thing Dean wanted to do when Cas came back was ask what the hell his dying speech meant. Dean’s replayed it countless times. He’s interpreted what the words “I love you” mean in every possible way. It’s gotten so bad that it’s in his nightly routine to replay what Cas said right before he falls asleep every fucking night. It’s eating him alive.
He thinks about it all the fucking time. He knows it’s making him tense. He feels like he’s walking on eggshells around the biggest elephant in the room.
It’s obvious Cas needs some time to adjust to being back. So Dean doesn’t press him about it. But the pressure of it builds within Dean. It fills him up like helium in a balloon, and he knows one of these days he’s going to burst.
It shouldn’t be surprising when it all explodes out of him when he isn’t ready.
He and Cas get into a fight. It’s Dean’s fault. He’s tense, and he probably should’ve talked it all out with Cas sooner, but it’s been pissing him off that Cas hasn’t brought it up, so now he’s convinced himself Cas doesn’t love him anymore, and Dean feels like he’s lost something irreplaceable, but he’s not even sure what he lost in the first place.
Dean finds Cas in the garage getting into one of the spare cars. This icy cold fear with a steel-like grip holds onto Dean’s heart.
It bursts out of him. “Where the hell are you going?”
Castiel blinks in confusion at Dean’s harsh tone. He's stopped what he was doing, and he’s standing there with the driver’s side door open. “The grocery store. Jack wants some snacks.”
“You didn’t tell me.” Dean sounds more accusatory than he means.
Cas stiffens then glares. “I didn’t realize I had to tell you everything I plan on doing today.”
Dean walks closer and glares back. “Yeah, well, how should I know what you’re not telling me when you have a habit of keeping important things from me.”
“Oh, I don’t fucking know, Cas. Maybe that you love me??”
The silence is deafening. The only sounds are their harsh breaths and the quiet electric whir of the bunker.
Now really isn’t the time. Dean should let it go. He doesn’t. "Why did you never tell me?" It’s nearly a whisper. His voice is hoarse.
Cas looks down. He grinds his jaw. "It was a personal issue,” he spits out. He reluctantly looks up at Dean.
This conversation doesn’t even feel real. Dean scoffs. "You being in love with me kind of also involves me."
Cas looks away again, but a scowl twists his face. “Not when it isn’t reciprocated.”
“What do you mean not—” Dean stops short. Gently, softly, “Oh, Cas.”
Cas’ expression flickers, and something dangerously vulnerable crosses his face for just a second. “What.”
“You really think—” Dean swallows. “It’s…it’s not one-sided, man.”
Annoyance flashes in Cas’ eyes. He stands up straighter and locks eyes with Dean. He slams the car door shut. “It’s not? So, you’re in love with me too?” Cas flings it at him like an accusation.
Cas rolls his eyes. “That’s what I thou—” He straightens again. “Wh-what did you just say?”
“Ah.” Cas is still looking at him, but his eyes glaze over with a faraway look.
Cas blinks. His eyes focus again. “Dean…”
Oh god, Dean broke him. “Hey,” he tries to say reassuringly. He slowly walks forward until they’re only a few inches apart. He grabs Cas’ shoulders. Squeezes gently. “It’s gonna be alright, sweetheart.”
Dean didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out. Maybe Cas didn’t notice.
But Cas is still ramrod straight and stiff, and he’s staring at Dean with parted lips and flushed cheeks. Okay, he definitely noticed Dean’s slip-up.
Dean asks, “Do you wanna sit down?”
Cas shakes his head. He’s still looking at Dean like he sprouted a second head.
“Can I hug you?” The question is barely audible. Cas’ eyes are still wide. Dean’s heart melts.
“Yeah.” Dean moves his arms to wrap around Cas’ back and pulls them together.
Cas is warm and solid. He smells like earth and electricity.
Dean squeezes his eyes shut when he feels tears begin to form.
Dean whispers, “Missed you.”
Cas lets out a trembling breath and finally hugs Dean back. “Dean.”
One of Cas’ hands tentatively strokes the hair on the nape of Dean’s neck. Dean nearly crumbles at the gentle touch.
Cas holds him tighter. “I love you,” he confesses breathlessly.
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