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A oneshot based off of this amazing art work by @/bogtree_ (on Instagram)
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"What's going on?" Castiel asked, stopping just as he and the two hunters rounded the corner, going from a quiet street, to a much busier one. The music they'd heard from a distance, now blaring, a large crowd of people walking up and, dressed head to toe in bright colours. Reds, Blues, Pinks. Cas had never seen so much colour in one place.
He heard Sam clear his throat from his left. "It looks like the pride festival."
Cas's gaze stayed on the colours for another moment, darting across the crowd, trying to see as much as he could, though it was almost impossible to see it all. There were so many various flags, colours, noises, laughter, happy chatter. It was impossible to stop the small smile that tugged at his lips
"We should go." Cas finally declared. He turned to Dean, though his boyfriends gaze was on Sam, then on the ground, until finally he met Cas's gaze, his green eyes holding an emotion Cas couldn't quite describe. Not that he ever fully understood human's emotions.
There were small things he had learned. Smiles usually meant happy, blushing meant embarrassment, though even still it was hard to fully understand. There was so much to understand. Especially when it came to Dean, who tried hard to make his emotions impossible to understand.
"I don't know," Dean began, his tone hesitant as he glanced back to the festival. Despite that Cas continued to stare watching his boyfriend shift in discomfort? Anxiety? Anticipation? Cas wasn't sure "We've gotta get going to the next case, and Baby needs a quick tune up..."
"Come on Dean," Sam said. "We'll just stay for a few minutes and then get on the road."
"Fine," Dean snapped. "If you both want to go so fuckin bad you can go together," Cas didn't reply, instead continuing to glance across Dean's features, his tightened jaw, and clneched fists. "I'll get us snacks, you two have fun, and we'll meet back here in half an hour, okay?"
"Uh yah, sure?" Sam mustered, Dean giving a small nod in response.
For a moment Cas's heart skipped, as Dean stepped towards, raising his arms for a hug. Though just as fast as that moment came it was gone, as Dean realized what he was doing, and instead turned, walking away without another word.
That's how it was always was when in public. Dean wouldn't hold Cas's hand, or do the playful shoulder nudges he would in the bunker. He wouldn't give hugs, or kisses, or smiles, or shoulder taps. Some days it went as far as Dean wouldn't even look in Cas's direction.
It hurt.
That's what humans would call the dull pain in Cas's stomach, the way it twisted when Dean stepped away, or chose to sit on the other side of the cafe's booth. It hurt. It caused pain. It made him wonder what he had done wrong.
