WAVES [ dean x cas ]

Date Night

"Dean!" Sam argues over the phone. "He's waiting for you at the restaurant right now. He says he has something that can help with the mark, you should probably go. You don't even have to stay that long. Just hear what he has to say." Dean grips the steering wheel and rolls his eyes.

"If I flip out and kill the whole diner, you can't blame me," he says. Sam chuckles and Dean hangs up his cell, throwing it in the passenger seat. He hasn't seen Cas in — God, how long? It was when he was being cured, he thinks. He secretly hopes Cas is doing well.

•••

"Cas!" Sam argued over the phone. "He's waiting for you at the restaurant right now. He says he has something that can help with your grace. It's not even necessary for you to stay that long. Just hear what he has to say." Cas smiles lightly. It's Dean, he tells himself. Don't worry, it's Dean. Then Cas stops smiling. But it's Dean with the mark.

"What do I do if he snaps and kills the whole restaurant?" Cas asks. Sam laughs.

"Trust me, Cas," he says. "If he's with you, he probably won't snap."

Cas' smile returns.

•••

"Okay," Dean says,  sitting down in the booth, avoiding eye contact with Cas. "What do you got?" Cas tilts his head.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and Dean looks right at the somewhat-angel. "Sam told me that you had information to help me with my grace."

"He told me you could help with the ma..." Dean trails off and sets his head in his hands. "That motherfucker. He set us up." Cas chuckles and Dean lifts his head back up.

"It is nice to see you, though, Dean," he quietly says. "I always appreciate my time with you." Dean's expression softens and he smiles lightly.

"Yeah, yeah, it is, man," he says. He looks at Cas and feels butterflies in his stomach and a flutter in his heart. Cas' eyes twinkle and those are the eyes he fell in love with. The handprint on his arm tingles.

The handprint! Dean thinks. That'll at least give Dean an excuse to ask Castiel something, and he'll get an answer.

"Cas, can I ask you something?" he says. Cas nods.

"Of course," he answers.

"This uh, this handprint thing on my arm. It, like, I was, uh, with a chick, the other night. And it stung. She put her hand on it and it stung me." Cas frowned and sat in thought for a moment.

"It's probably because a piece of my grace is still left in you," Cas declares. "You must've had a strong connection with this woman, Dean, to trigger the grace's reaction." Dean chuckles nervously.

"Does it... uh... miss you or something?" he asks.

"That's a possibility," is the reply. "It could also react like that if you..." Cas trails off and looks out the window, a flush spreading across his cheeks.

"If I what?" Dean asks.

"Had a longing for me at the... the time you felt that, uh, stinging sensation. Which in your case, was during intercourse." Dean blushes, hard, and clears his throat loudly.

They sit in silence for a few minutes until Dean speaks up again.

"Hey, if it makes you feel better, I do kinda, like, love you and stuff, so it's not that weird," he shyly says, and Cas' face whips to him, eyes wide.

"You what now?" he sputters. Dean shrugs and Cas tucks a piece of hair behind his ear. It's getting long. "Oh," he mumbles.

"I do love you, Cas," Dean says again. "In every way imaginable. And I'm sorry it's taken me seven years to admit it. So, now, the big question, do you love me, too?"

"Obviously," Cas says with no hesitation, and they both break out into huge smiles.

•••

Dean sees his phone light up from the table beside the motel bed, and it's a text from Sam.

so, how'd it go?

Dean takes a selfie of the two of them shirtless, Dean's face buried in Cas' bedhead, who's cuddled against Dean's chest, and sends it to his brother as a response.