Word prompt: cas would've done..
“Hey buddy,” Dean says, scratching an old, missed blood spot from his knife. He looks at Cas. “Coming?”
Cas has been with them months, now. They’ve been taking larger cases. Bigger problems finding them. They’d bested the apocalypse. Faced God himself, and found themselves coming through it. And, as it turns out, the other side consists of Cas sleeping with a blade under his pillow, a gun under Dean’s and clothes Dean lets him borrow that never seem to be fully free of blood stains no matter how much they wash them.
“Coming?” Dean asks again. It’s the same question. Always. Cas has answered it a hundred times, and yet Dean finds himself saying the words the same way, still, like a ritual. Cas smiles. He knows his lines, too:
“Always,” Cas says, and Dean’s shoulders relax, if only a little. But there’s another part of him that feels betrayed. Like Cas would’ve done anything for Dean, even if he wasn’t happy.
The night ends in sweat and blood, bandaging each other. Dean can feel the way his eyes are lit with a glaze of adrenaline. He looks away when Cas catches it.
The bathroom is too small for three men as they get ready for bed, shouldering past each other while they brush their teeth. The room is too small, too. Three beds hard to come by. Some nights Dean finds himself on the hard floor. Sometimes it’s Cas or Sam.
Sleep is sparing, even less when Sam starts to snore.
Tonight Cas on the floor, Dean in the bed above, listening to the sound of Sammy to his left, Cas’s breaths on the floor next to him too shallow to be asleep. Dean swallows.
“Do you miss it?” he whispers.
“Heaven?” Cas asks, quietly. “No.”
Sam snores again, rolling to his side, the sounds getting smaller.
“I just mean. Are you happy here? Are we enough?” Dean gestures in the dark, even if he knows no one can see it. “Is this life enough for you?”
Cas sits up. He makes his way to the side of the bed, sitting on the edge of it. Even though it’s dark, Dean can see hesitation in his face.
“No,” he says, quietly.
Dean’s face falls. His chest hurts as he grips the blankets, sitting up.
“This life,” he says. “I know it’s not for everyone. It’s what I want, but you don’t have to want this. You don’t have to…” his voice cracks.
He swallows. He knows what he needs to say next, but it hurts. It’s painful trying to think of his life without half his wardrobe stolen, or the sight of Cas’s cheek smashed against the window through the rearview mirror while he drools in his sleep.
He blinks back tears, grateful it’s dark. He thinks of all the times he’s asked Cas if he’s coming, feeling his chest swell with the words “always.” He knows if he asks now, the answer would be the same. Which only makes it that much harder to say what he does next.
“You don’t have to stay.”
Hearing the words come from his own mouth makes his tears fall more freely now, and he suddenly thinks it’s not dark enough with the glare of the neon signs outside seeping through the thin curtains.
Then, there are hands, wiping away his cheeks. Cas crawls into bed next to him, wrapping his arms around Dean. It’s new and unexpected, but Cas is breaking a barrier between them as he grabs one of Dean’s hands, bringing it to his lips to just hold it there.
“I don’t want to leave you,” Cas says, when Dean is finally calm.
“There’s no white picket ending here for you,” Dean whispers, feeling his heart beat faster as he feels Cas’s warm breaths close. “You said it yourself, it’s not enough.”
Cas pulls Dean in closer, kissing him on the forehead.
“I don’t need a lot. But I do need you,” Cas says. And, suddenly, Dean understands.
“I’m in love with you,” Cas finishes.
He needs more, Dean acknowledges. And Dean finally realizes that he does, too.
“I love you, too,” he whispers back, leaning in and kissing Cas for the first time. It’s slow. Gentle. Melting away Dean’s fears as he realizes that maybe Cas can be happy here. With him.
When they pull away, Cas is smiling. His eyes bright.
“Ask me if you’re enough,” he whispers, pulling them closer together.
Dean smiles, too. It’s awkward, but he asks it quietly: “Is this enough for you, Cas? Am I enough?”
Cas pulls him in, kissing his forehead reverently.
“Always,” he says.