Can you continue the head canon of Cas falling first and then Dean finds out?
No bc I might cry.
Cas doesn’t understand how this is so hard. They’re friends, he should be able to sit with Dean, talk to him, hang out with him without feeling like his heart is trying to escape his body via his mouth.
Dean hasn’t been to his room in a couple of days. He said it was due to long days at work, but Cas is scared. If this is the beginning of the end, then he doesn’t want to think about it.
Cas waits for Dean on the couch, nervous, anxious for him to get home from work. He sits on his hands so that he doesn’t fidget. He’s going to do it, he’s going to tell Dean. He takes a deep breath. And then another.
And then he stands up, and goes to hide in his room.
He hears Dean come home. Listens as he putters around the kitchen. Doing what? Making a sandwich, Cas supposes. He hears Dean pass his room, the shower turning on, and then off a few minutes later. Cas can’t move. He is in agony, wanting to go to Dean but unable to.
Dean’s door shuts, and then there is silence. Cas can’t breathe. He needs to see Dean, needs to look upon his face, see his smile, hear his voice. He stumbles from his room, down the hall to Dean’s door. He knocks.
“Yeah?” Dean calls. Cas steps into the room.
“Hey Cas,” Dean says, sounding sleepy, “I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“No,” Cas says, quiet and soft. He moves to sit beside Dean, who smiles gently up at him, from where he lays, reclined against his pillows.
“Mm,” Dean is stretching and it is glorious. Castiel feels like his soul is replenished. “It’s good to see you.”
It’s wonderful to see you, Castiel thinks. You, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Instead, he smiles. Dean smiles back, warm and familiar.
“Did you have a good day?” Castiel asks, daring to run a finger lightly along Dean’s thigh.
“Ugh, no. Today was a real bitch.” Dean says, rubbing at his eyes. He’s tired. Castiel wants to comfort him.
“I’m sorry,” He says. He wants to take Dean into his arms, hold him and keep him warm, safe from bad days.
“It’s okay,” Dean says, and his smile is back and Castiel’s heart lights up once more and he is so, so overwhelmed with love for this man.
“Let me take care of you,” He murmurs, leaning forward into Dean’s space.
They share a kiss, slow and sweet. Castiel takes Dean’s face in his hands, and holds him, willing him to feel better. He moves his lips to Dean’s neck, and down across his chest. A kiss for each nipple, and then south he goes. Dean’s lengthening in his boxers, sensing where this is headed, and Castiel’s heart beats faster.
This is his. For now. He gets to have this, and Dean isn’t pushing him away. He’s never come to Dean before, and Dean is letting him. His hands aren’t steady, and he hopes Dean doesn’t notice.
When he takes Dean in his mouth, he looks up. Those green eyes are watching him, hooded and heavy, but they’re locked on to Cas, and they’re not moving. He swallows Dean down, showing off all his best moves, pulling out all the stops. He needs to give Dean this, to show his devotion. How can Dean not know? Can’t tell, by the way that Cas worships him? God, every bob of his head, every flick of his tongue is giving him away and he knows it, but he can’t stop. Wouldn’t if he could.
Dean watches him the whole time, and Cas looks up as often as possible. They’re both breathing shallow, and Cas is expecting it when Dean spills into his mouth. It’s hot and warm and it tastes like Dean, so Cas savors it. Rolling it across his tongue. How many more time will he get to experience this? He can’t think about that now.
He leans in, kissing Dean goodnight. Then he gets up. And he goes.
He’s talking to his brother a few weeks later. They’re on the phone and Cas is beside himself.
“I don’t know what to do,” He says.
Gabriel is explaining to him that fucking your friends is usually a bad idea, but it’s not the end of the world.
“It is,” Cas pleads with him, “It is, because I love him. I love him and he’s going to leave. This can’t go on forever, Gabriel, it’s not sustainable. He’s going to meet someone else, and then he’ll move out and I’ll never–”
“I can’t give this up, even if it’s all I’ll ever get. ”
He’s not crying, but he’s wound up and feels like he might puke. He’s sitting on his bed, gut wrenching with fear, and he can’t take this. He stands. He turns, and sees Dean in the doorway.
Dean is in his doorway. Dean. Looking at him with a pale face. He heard. He heard.