Always Cas | ✔

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE; part one

      The last time Cas and I were in a shower together, Cas was wrecked and I couldn't do anything to help him other than just stand there.

      That was over a month ago. It seems like so much time and no time at all has passed. Like we are both five years in the future and five years in the past at the same time.

     Cas has the shower running by the time I step inside the bathroom, has already stripped his pants and is undoing the buttons on his shirt. I stop in the doorway, watching him. Every time I look at Cas it's like seeing him for the first time.

     He makes a show of undressing himself, moving slower. I watch his hands as they fold over each button. His hair was slicked back but now it's loosened so it's starting to fall into his face. I'm looking forward to running shampoo through it, unleashing his curls. I want to tell him to stop wearing it like this. Not because it looks bad. It doesn't. But because I miss his hair. I miss the boy who wore his hair naturally. Because I think he may be more of the boy who wore his hair that way than the boy who wears his hair this way.

     I told Ashley I would say something after Thanksgiving, but I'm feeling the urge to say something now. My arm is hot, pulsing where the wound is. I focus on it because I'm waiting till after Thanksgiving. Because we have a truce.

     His shirt's off now and his chest is clear. Not a bruise in sight. He walks over, says lowly, "You're supposed to be getting undressed." His hands are at the hem of my shirt and he lifts it. I raise my arms into the air, slower on the one that's injured. Cas goes for my jeans next, unbuttoning them. He moves clinically. I wonder what we're doing here. Maybe we really are just showering.

     We're not because after I've stepped out of my bottoms and am standing there naked, I can't help but grab him and pull him to me, kissing him deeply. He puts his hands on my chest, holds them there while he kisses back.

     "No, wait," he says, voice a mumble because our mouths are still close. "We need to shower. You smell like how I imagine Professor Sprout smells."

     "What is with all the Harry Potter references today?" I ask.

     Cas flushes, turning away and moving towards the shower. "I've been rereading the series."

     "Because there are no more books in the world that you haven't read?" I tease, following him into the shower stall. I jump, reaching for the nozzle as I step out from under the water. "Jesus, are you trying to sear your skin?"

     "Hot showers are calming," Cas says. "Also, I'll have you know. Harry Potter is timeless, no matter how problematic JK Rowling is. Separating the art from the artist on this one."

      The water has cooled down a bit. Still hot but I think a good compromise for Cas who apparently likes third degree burns with his showers. I'm almost too fast with the shampoo, grabbing the bottle and squeezing some into my hand before I say, "Turn around."

     Cas hums. "This feels like deja vu." I bring the soap to a lather, massaging his scalp tenderly so that he starts leaning back against me, making sounds that are just short of a purring cat. It feels like Cas carries all his tension in his scalp. "Tip your head back," I say and he does. I smooth the soap down his head, letting the water do the rest.

     "Now you," Cas says opening his eyes. He brushes the water off of his face as he turns around. I turn around for Cas, crouching a bit so he can reach my head. I don't get what Cas seems to get out of it but it's nice having someone wash your hair for you.

     We wash together, lathering each other slowly, a kind of intimacy that isn't sex but could be. All the build up, but none of the release. When all the soap has been washed away, we stand under the water till our skin has pruned. Cas is resting his head on my chest. He's quiet enough that I could be convinced he fell asleep like this.