Inspired by samndeanaremyplaythings
“Sam teaching Cas to be in a relationship. Cas didn’t know how to hug! Maybe he doesn’t know what holding hands is, and when Sam takes Cas’ hand in his (for no obvious reason, according to Cas), he is really confused and Sam just shakes his head and proceeds to (try and) explain.” (x)
They kissed for the first time two weeks and four days ago. Castiel would have known the hours and minutes too, but his new human mind can’t keep track of things like that as well. There are downsides to being human, but Sam makes up for them all. Castiel never understood humans’ insistence on so much touching, not until now. He spends all day looking forward to the next time Sam honors him with a kiss or a hug. He lives for the evenings when they curl up on the couch together, warmth rolling off Sam and curling around Cas like a blanket.
Today they’ve decided to try and start a tradition of daily walks, since the Bunker is underground they need their Vitamin D and they’ve been spending too many days cooped up in the library. They both get lost in reading easily. After tearing themselves away from their latest research they climbed up and out into a sunny spring day, deciding they’d just wander until they felt like heading back. Castiel points out a few birds in the trees, recognizing them by their calls. He hasn’t lost all his knowledge. Sam remembers the time he took a weekend hiking elective at Stanford and picked up a banana slug after a friend told him they were ‘cuddly.’ He didn’t get the slime off his hands for hours.
They’ve walked and talked perhaps ten minutes when Castiel feels Sam’s hand on his. He looks up, thinking maybe it’s a way to catch his attention for something. Sam is looking ahead though, and his fingers curl around Cas’ and stay there. Castiel’s own hand just hangs limp, and he looks down in confusion. After a moment Sam pauses and looks over, frowning. “No hand-holding yet?” His touch recedes and even if Cas didn’t understand it, he wants it back.
“Hand-holding?” He repeats, cocking his head and reaching out tentatively, trying to mimic Sam’s action. His fingers curl awkwardly around the taller man’s hand. “I don’t know how.” He admits softly, thinking of the time Sam hugged him and at first he just stood there, not sure how to respond until the man prompted him.
Sam laughs now, and everything’s okay if Sam’s laughing, because it’s a beautiful sound. “Here.” He stops walking and lifts their loosely linked hands, taking hold of Cas’ wrist with his free one and holding it up. “Spread your fingers.” The new human obeys, face a picture of concentration as if Sam is explaining a math problem instead of simple human contact. “Hands are made to link together, see?” The hunter slides his own fingers into the slots between Castiel’s and curls them down, squeezing gently. Cas mimics the action until his fingers are gently gripping the back of Sam’s hand. “Not so hard now, is it?” Sam chuckles again, dropping their hands to hang between them as he restarts their walk.
“No.” Castiel agrees thoughtfully, looking down at their now-linked hands swinging between them. “Not hard at all.”
They finish the walk still hand-in-hand. They enter the Bunker still hand-in-hand. Sam goes and gets a drink, and Cas follows him, still holding his hand. Eventually Sam gently disengages himself, explaining that he needs both appendages to make them some sandwiches for lunch. Castiel reluctantly drops the contact, missing the warmth of Sam’s touch immediately. Once they’re eating his hand steals across the table again.
It’s not hard at all. it’s so easy that he does it all the time after that, and he slowly learns other ways of touching Sam (and when and where they are appropriate, which was a lesson quickly enforced after Dean walked in on them in the kitchen and railed for an hour about ‘unsanitary surfaces’). Still, even after they begin to share a bed each night and he falls asleep with Sam curled against his back, the once-angel will often lace their fingers where Sam’s hand rests around his chest. He thinks linked fingers look like stitches, and he’s glad, because it means they are tied together in a way that can never be broken. A human forever is a second compared to what he used to know, but with Sam, it seems like it might be just enough.