It's In Your Eyes

A Breath Of Air

Dean's POV -

'That was a warm room. Very warm. And I'm thirsty. So I'll get a drink. Then go outside. It'll be nice outside. It'll be cool and nice, and quite. Much quieter than in here. With all this banging and thumping. It's like it's right inside my head, so loud. Shhh. It's quiet time. People are trying to sleep. In their beds. But they're alone there, and it's not as warm under the covers as it is in someone's arms, but where will I find arms? More arms, other than mine.'

I hug myself, shaking side to side and I walk quickly down the corridor and into the bathrooms.

'I'll get a drink here. And then I'll go outside. Quiet. Still alone. But not in that room where I was so hot and dizzy.'

Castiel's POV -

I follow Dean, letting him stagger along the hallway a little way ahead of me just keeping an eye on him. Nothing to do with how badly I wanted to know more, let him get closer. As close as he'd like. It's all I can do not to stop dead, close my eyes and just relive the moment. Just remember the hot, damp tingle of his breath on my lips, so close that if I just-

I should have done something different. I can still feel it. I can still hear the words the ones that meant, maybe he felt something for me.

I open my eyes, kicking myself. Dean was gone from the corridor. God knows how long I had been standing here like an idiot. He could be anywhere by now.

~

I'd looked in all the rooms on that corridor, twice. I couldn't see him, and I'd been looking for a good half hour now, search expanded back down the hall, past the common room. He must have gone back to the dorm...

In the dim room, it's quiet, still, like it should be. But there are two empty beds. I can see the mess of blankets on the one by the window, Dean's decorated covers mashed to the foot of the bed. I'm about to leave, he's not in here, when a breeze rolls over me. The window is open, a glass with less than an inch of water in it stood on the table nearby.

I force myself to walk over, boost onto the windowsill and slip out into the chill of the roof.

I suck in a sharp breath when the rough tiles catch against my bare feet and the cold air hits me like a brick in the face. I should have grabbed my hoodie...

And there he is, eyes trained on me before I even look up. Neither of us move for a second, I'm finding it difficult to choke back the emotion rolling in my throat at the sight of him looking so worn. I feel like I've known him for years.

But I make the first move, scooting over to him and, without thinking about it, stopping close enough that my right side touches his left. It's a little pressure, a tiny touch along our arms and legs, but it's enough to break the silence, and the tension.

"I just drank a lot of water..." He turns to look at me again and I take in the lines of seriousness about his face. "I'm not so drunk now."

He laughs a little, a dull smile barely present. But it fades as quickly as it came. He can remember what happened in the common room, I'm sure of it. But I can't tell how he feels about it...

So I do the only thing I can think. Something he did for me that first night... I take his hand in mine, slowly so I don't shock him, but why did I worry? His fingers lock in mine instantly and he droops against me, head on my shoulder. It would be perfect.

"I didn't mean to make you, y'know, uncomfortable, before..." He mumbles playing absently with my fingers.

"You mean... You didn't mean it?" I couldn't help it, I want to know. I need to know. Could it all have been confusion, the drunken stupor playing with his head, or was he more truthful... More aware...

"What? I-" His hand stills and all I can feel is two heartbeats. Mine, out my chest faster than I'd care to admit. But he can feel it, because I can feel his. Despite the frantic tone to his voice or the way he is making sounds like he's trying to say something but can't quite find the right words, it's remarkable calm, steady and gentle...

"It's okay." I give his hand a squeeze. But he returns it in earnest.

"I did." So quite, his voice is barely above a whisper. But it's there. Just like the words had been there as he'd left me alone in the common room.

"You..." I mumble. He sits up a little, moving away and I'm freezing again, just now noticing how much heat his body had radiated to mine. So I can't help the shiver rattling through me.

"I've never..." He narrows his eyes in thought, measured breaths coming from his parted lips. His hand finds my cheek suddenly, body turned to mine. I can't stop myself leaning into its warmth. "Felt..." He's so close it hurts. His heart is quicker now. Both work in tandem, a beat after another.

And he won't stop getting closer till he goes to speak again. I'm silent. I don't want to speak, risk ruining this. But I don't think I could even if I wanted to. A breath doesn't pass my lips. This has to be a dream... The way his lower lip has caught between his teeth, barely pinching it, but still the plump, deep pink flesh pales under the pressure. I'd have my eyes glued to that, if only I could tear them away from his emerald eyes that barely blink, that stare back at me.

"I've never felt like this..." He sighs, and closes the last breath of air between us. This is no dream..

It's so real, it hurts...