And i will walk on water

Chapter Eleven

Having Castiel back felt really, really good. Really. It felt really, really good. Sometimes Dean would glance over at him, looking all quiet and solemn a little ways away, and not realize his lips were pulled into a tiny smile until he caught Sam smirking at him. Then Dean would glare at his little brother, daring him to say something about it, because he'd already been caught and would only look like a pussy if he tried to pretend he hadn't been staring (and smiling). Sam's smirk would only widen, but he always kept his mouth shut. Castiel usually just looked between them in mild curiosity and didn't understand.

Sam didn't understand it either, actually; Dean was sure his little brother was imagining him having pervy angel thoughts or something, but that wasn't true at all. Castiel had been back for a few days now and Dean hadn't once fantasized about feeling him up. Now that he knew what Castiel was like, sexually, Dean... really didn't want to go there. Or maybe it was just that the whole kiss debacle and his own promise that he wouldn't try anything again had put Castiel well and truly out of Dean's reach. He didn't have any more illusions, even fleeting ones, that Castiel might want him back in that capacity, so it was easy for Dean to slip back into his status quo of ignoring his wants.

It was best this way, actually, because this way, Dean could be content with what he had. And what he had was a best friend who, against his better judgment, Dean was beginning to trust would stick around. He finally felt himself let go of the subconscious but persistent fear that Castiel would eventually see the ugliness in him that belonged back in Hell and turn away in disgust, or that Castiel would be so disappointed in Dean's failures that he would give up on him. After all, Castiel had seen Dean in Hell -- seen him at his darkest and ugliest -- and had thought him worth saving. And then Castiel had given everything so Dean could have a chance to save the world, and he'd failed, and still, Castiel had come back. He'd even stayed when he'd thought worse of Dean than what was actually true, and he'd told Dean in as many words that he couldn't let him go. Dean wasn't sure what he could do that would drive Castiel away.

So he had to conclude that maybe there was nothing, and that he'd finally found someone who wouldn't leave him. It was nothing short of exhilarating, and made all the more so by its novelty. Dean had never had this in his life, because even Sam -- his very own Sammy -- had left him before, for colleges and human girlfriends and even demon girlfriends, and even before he'd left that first time Dean had always known his little brother had wanted a normal life. If by some miracle they both survived this apocalypse, Sam would probably leave him again, because underneath all of that jaded cynicism, he still wanted a normal life. And Dean would be okay with that, because it would make Sam happy, and of course Dean wanted Sam to be happy.

Castiel, though. Dean wanted Castiel to be happy too, but the difference was, Castiel had once told Dean he wanted to try everything in the world with him and he seemed happiest when it was just the two of them, and that's what made this exhilarating. Well, technically speaking, Castiel seemed least melancholy when it was just the two of them, but Dean was working on that. He wanted to deserve this. And he'd promised himself, after all, that if Castiel came back, he'd be the best friend an angel ever had. Then Castiel had come back, so Dean was working on his end of the deal.

Today, his end of the deal involved teaching Castiel how to hustle pool. As it turned out, though, Castiel was terrible at both hustling and pool.

"Cas," Dean sighed, eyeing the seven remaining balls on the table. One of them was the eight ball, of course, and the other six were Castiel's, because he'd only managed to sink one ball during the entire game. (And even that one had been a fluke; he'd been aiming for a different ball entirely.) "Are you even trying?"

Castiel paused before making another doomed shot and glanced up at him. "Yes," he replied earnestly, which made it that much sadder.

"Can't you just angel mojo it or something?" Dean asked under his breath, too quietly for any of the bar's other patrons to hear.