Happiness Is(n't) In The Having

Chapter Fourteen - Cursed Or Not

Hey, my lovelies, happy Valentine's day! And even more importantly: Happy DeanCas Weddin day! Nope, twitter didn't pass by my tumblr account unnoticed, either.

Anyway, back to our story at hand. I'm not going to tell too much, but let's just say our boys have a few more things to talk through...yeah, I'm sorry. I'm a hopeless sap that needs to have them address every potential struggle and work through it with what Dean would consider a chick-flicky conversation. I guess you'll just have to deal with that. So...enjoy!

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

Castiel knows how to save Dean, how to protect him. He knows how it feels to fail him, how to see him die, how to mourn him. He knows how to watch him, watch over him, look after him. He knows how to love Dean, but always from afar. He knows stolen glances, accidental touches, secret moments.

He doesn't know how to be allowed to be near, to look, to touch. He doesn't know how to kiss him.

But oh, if he isn't going to find out...

It's just a brush of lips, closed mouths pressing together, chaste and searching. A few seconds of contact, of connection, a question Cas writes onto Dean's lips before he slowly pulls back. They're both breathing hard, and Dean can see the way Cas' pupils are dilated, the blue still there but darker, sparkling, inviting, speaking volumes of the mixed emotion swirling behind the calm surface.

He has to look away. If he doesn't look away immediately, he'll never look away.

"Cas, I...I-" It's easier to find his voice when he's not looking. It's still hard to find the words. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhales a shaky breath. Cas blinks when he meets his gaze again and Dean is grateful for it, gives him a reason not to fall under that spell and drown.

He should be able to say it. Shouldn't he be able to say it now? He so wants to be able to say it. Cas deserves to hear him say it.

"It's okay, Dean." Cas' words are too understanding, his voice too soft, his gentle smile misplaced. "You don't have to say it."

You don't have to say it. I heard your prayer.

You don't know, he wants to scram in Cas' face. You have no idea. He can't stand the thought of it happening again, not again, not like in purgatory, not again. And yet there's a sick sense of relief about this game they're playing, the way he always finds a way not to tell him, always too busy, always hunting, always saving, always averting Armageddon, again and again and again. Never enough time, never the right time, never the right place, either. Never right. Never ready. If they wait until they're ready, they would be waiting for all eternity.

"Don't do this, Cas", he says without thinking and Cas flinches slightly at the echo of his words from the dungeon, but this is not what Dean meant, this is not what he meant at all, not this time.

"No, I- I mean..." I want to say it. I want you to hear it. He licks over his lips, an unconscious nervous habit, and tries not to let himself be distracted by the fact that Cas' eyes seem to follow the movement of his tongue. "I have to tell you- You need to know that I-I...I need you, Cas", he presses out, angry with himself that once again, it's not the words he'd wanted to say, not the words he meant. Fucking coward.

But Cas' mouth is still curled into that gentle smile when he dares to look at him, and how the hell is Dean supposed to stay angry with himself when such a beautiful thing is directed his way?

"Dean." The name is like honey. Sweet and golden and dripping with affection. Dean almost can't stand it. He's tempted to close his eyes again, overwhelmed, but he can't. He's captured by something in Cas' gaze, a calm blue ocean sparkling in the sunlight.