As soon as the text message was sent, he shoved his phone away, silently vowing to leave it there till morning. While his fingers closed around the second shot glass, he locked eyes with a pretty girl with dark hair. Now this, this was something Dean could do without fucking up.
_________________________
Dean hadn’t cared where he was going when he found this place, just drove until he was far away that his surroundings were less familiar. He had been driving for about twenty minutes when he pulled into the parking lot of some local dive. It was just another night, another bar, another small dance floor, hopefully, another insignificant intoxicated hookup. Just what he needed to forget, an easy distraction from the panic settled in his stomach.
He finished up his second drink and ordered a couple more shots from the bartender, turning around on the barstool to scan the room. The music wasn’t his favorite, truthfully he hated it, but the general idea was to find someone to dance quick and dirty with before taking them out to the Impala. Music like this worked for that.
A quick little buzz against Dean’s hip where his phone was tucked into his pocket shook him out of his thoughts. He pulled his phone out, wincing at the text notification. Oh, right, Cas. The whole reason he sped away from the bunker in the first place. Things got to be too much for Dean to handle, and he ran.
Of course, Dean was the one who made things too much, since it was always his fault, always his missteps that he was chasing a cure for. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget how good Cas felt pressed against him, how right it felt to kiss him, how wrong it felt when the panic bubbled up and he shoved Cas away. All he sees behind his eyelids are his mistakes, so he opened his eyes.
The music shifted into some techno bullshit, and he heard the bartender call out his order as it fell with a click against the bar behind him. Dean nods and grunts as way of a thank you, the bartender already halfway to the other end, clearly not waiting for his response. Dean drank down one of the double shots, swallowing hard. He quickly typed a response to Cas, knowing if he didn’t, the angel would sound the alarm and he’d have half his contact list calling him for a status update. He really had left quickly, panicked, barely remembering to grab his car keys. He owed Castiel at least some peace of mind.
:don’t worry I’m fine. got a room at a motel, tell sam if he asks.
Vague, distant, completely sidestepping the true issue. Sounded like a true Winchester special. He didn’t need Cas to know that he had planned on burying his sorrows in cheap drinks before (if nothing goes wrong) he ends up in Baby’s back seat with someone to help him forget the feeling of Castiel’s lips slotting so perfectly between his own.
Dean chuckled darkly at himself, trying to shake off the negative feelings bubbling up. How weak he had sounded when he tried to excuse away his actions. Hope breaking into sadness in Castiel’s eyes, the way it was like a switch flipped, and seconds later the feelings were wiped clear, Cas stood tall and stiff as a soldier as if he were perfectly unaffected. The split second when Dean saw Cas’s lip shake before his jaw clenched in determination to stay in control. The tremor in the way he heard Cas call out his name as he ran out.
As soon as the text message was sent, he shoved his phone away, silently vowing to leave it there till morning. As his fingers closed around the second shot glass, he locked eyes with a pretty girl with dark hair. Now this, this was something Dean could do without fucking up.
The woman tucked her chin down towards her chest, coyly returning his flirtatious glance. Dean kept his eyes on her, downing the shot quickly. In one practiced movement, Dean put the shot glass down on the bar and slid off the stool to saunter towards his target. He smirked as the girl waved off her friends just as he stepped up to face her. Her eyes were bright blue, and Dean again had to push away memories of being this close to Cas, and he pretended not to notice how his angel’s eyes were much brighter.
Then he pretended not to notice how he thought of Cas as his.
He was used to looking for Cas everywhere, searching for him in crowds, but seeing him in every single face wasn’t part of the deal. He really had to pick the one girl in the bar with a mess of dark tresses and blue eyes. Sam would tease him for having a type. Cas wouldn’t notice, would probably smile his polite smile as Dean left with her, never knowing Dean wished it was him.
As if on cue, his pocket vibrated again. That’s gotta be Cas. If Dean knows him at all, he’s asking for the name of the motel, asking if he was alright, if he could help. Dean would probably sleep in the backseat of his Impala, he wasn’t feeling quite alright yet, and yeah, Cas really could help if Dean would just let him. He kept all that to himself, not even pulling out the phone to check.
Once again, Dean refocused his priorities. It was easier now that there was a woman in front of him, her fingers slid up his arm to rest on his bicep. He played the part, used a fake name for the introduction, barely processed hers, and within no time, they didn’t need to talk anymore. Dean kept his mind centered, his senses taken over by… Madison or Diana or wow he really didn’t pay any attention to what he should call her.
Two more songs with some shitty techno beat, this woman pressing increasingly closer, and Dean wanted. More to drink, more of this girl, more distraction. His eyes shifted back towards the bar and Dean swore he saw Castiel across the room for a moment that lasted too long. The man stumbled and Dean knew it wasn’t Cas immediately, too far away to see his face or any identifying features, but his angel doesn’t move like that, would never make a mess of himself in a bar, too drunk to walk straight.
That’s Dean’s job.
The woman in Dean’s arms took his turned head as an invitation, not noticing the tension in Dean’s shoulders. She moved in to brush her lips against his neck, a sweet soft kiss. Too soft, he thought, the memory of stubble ghosting against his cheeks hot in his mind.
This should feel good, should be a promise of later, or maybe sooner rather, but instead, it feels wrong. Dirty. Dean feels weaker than ever, smaller than he thought possible in a place he’d normally consider his domain. His heartbeat sped, and she likely felt it where one hand lay over his chest.
One way too small hand. Fuck.
It wasn’t working. Dean couldn’t get his mind off of Cas, he couldn’t stop hating himself for the way he shattered the moment, himself, and Castiel, and the way he panicked and ran instead of being there to piece it all back together. He wanted to take it all back, rewind to the point where Castiel stood pressed against him in this way. Through the slight haze of his alcohol consumption, he still couldn’t escape the blindingly clear memory of hearing his name fall from Cas’ lips, a whisper-plea into the kiss. The sound made Dean’s chest tighten and heat pool in his stomach, Cas sounded wrecked. It had scared the fuck out of Dean. It was way too much. It was also absolutely not enough.
As if on cue, the woman pulled away slightly to speak, voice lilting and crystal clean, not even close to what Dean needed to hear. That was it. He barely registered her words, blinked twice before he stuttered out some bullshit excuse about needing the bathroom before he turned straight towards the exit.
The door swung shut behind Dean, and the night breeze felt sobering. He laughed softly at the thought, knowing the dip in his distraction levels had a lot more to do with realizing he’s in love with his best friend, and he couldn’t ignore that anymore. Fuck. Dean slid down to sit on the curb, his head fell into his hands, and damnit, Dean Winchester did not cry.
It could have been seconds or minutes before Dean squeezed his eyes shut and wiped the sleeve of his jacket across his cheeks. Dean gathered himself and slid his phone out from his pocket. Cas had texted back, but he couldn’t bring himself to read it at that moment. He wanted to Capital-A Avoid™ for a little bit longer. His mind wandered to the bottle of liquor he knew he had in the trunk. Steeling himself, he stood up and turned towards his parking spot. Dean reached the back corner of the lot, his hand almost on the door handle of his car before he felt someone behind him.
Normally, Dean would have spun around in an instant, would have the person who surprised him in a headlock within seconds, but something familiar stopped him. The breeze was playing into the moment, gently pushing that stupidly sweet-clear-clean-Cas scent over Dean. Castiel always grabbed the attention of every single one of his senses. The calming hand that came to rest on Dean’s forearm was more soothing than he’d ever admitted. Dean took a deep breath, as if he could taste Cas on the soft wind if he inhaled hard enough, still facing away.
“You knew it was me.” A statement, one that made Dean shrink inwards a bit. Cas spoke again. “Dean, I-“
Dean’s mind spun, and he warred with himself, part of his instincts were telling him to stop this at any cause, prevent everything from spilling out any further than it already had even if it meant turning heel and running. The other part of him though, that part just wanted to turn and face Cas, fall forward against him, feel safe in his arms. Castiel stopped speaking, and Dean finally looked at him, turning to lean against the side of the car. Cas was standing too close, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
“Dean, I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait to talk. I’m… I’m scared of this. I can’t lose you but if this is….” Castiel’s voice rumbled deep in Dean’s chest, causing a stampede of emotions to rush forward. He couldn’t deny that he was crying now, tears falling silently as he stared at the knot of Cas’s tie. Dean tried to drag his eyes upwards, he wanted to look Castiel in the eye, wanted to do this right.
He couldn’t pull his gaze higher than the other man’s lips. Dean’s voice came out in a quiet hush, anyone other than Cas might have missed it. “I’m scared too.”
Dean watched as Cas brought his hand up to lightly press Dean’s chin up to look him in the eyes. He let it happen, and he felt his heart twist tight for the second time that day. Cas didn't drop his hand, and it felt right. Dean pressed lightly against Cas's grip, and he watched the way it made the man's expression soften.
Dean had heard the cliches of butterflies or fireworks or sparks or whatever chick-flick bullshit, but he always thought of it as dramatics. The feeling in Dean's stomach when Cas leaned in (not quite clearing the distance between them but god was he impossibly close), now this feeling was earth-shattering, the impact something akin to a rocket launcher against concrete, a chemical bomb thrown across the room. Years of his willpower were acting as the door and Cas felt like a battering ram in front of him.
Dean nearly broke down when Cas reached his other hand up to rest softly on his neck. He couldn't hold back and absolutely no part of him wanted to. Dean closed the distance, his lips meeting with Castiel's, but this time the avalanche he felt inside was just on this side of overwhelming. When neither of them pulled back, Dean felt the tension fall away. Everything fell away. All at once, Dean's arms were around Cas, slipping under that damned trenchcoat to tug him in by the waist, Cas gripped a hand into Dean's hair even though it was too short to get any real purchase, his other hand still cupped under Dean's chin.
Everything was Castiel, feelings Dean hadn't even realized he locked away were rushing through his body and pulling him higher and higher until neither of their feet were on the ground, the feeling of the car door on Dean's back even washing away in the sea of everything Castiel.
Nothing else mattered, just Cas against Dean, Dean against Cas, the two of them in a freefall. Dean thought for a second that this felt a lot like flying, and maybe he wasn't so afraid of that after all.
NOTES:
a lil link for the performance that forced me to write this
#deltarune
#cats of tumblr
