Chapter 5
When they arrive home, it's to an empty house. A gloriously Sam-free empty space. Dean had half expected them to rip their clothes off and barely make it to the sofa (because he has trouble separating out his romantic expectations from pornography, apparently). Instead, Cas hardly made any eye contact as he walked towards the kitchen to pour them both glasses of water that neither of them had made any noises about wanting. If it wasn't for the fact that he held onto Dean's hand with a ferocity that implied it was a lifeline to both of them, then Dean would have been a very confused boy indeed. The electricity between them at the diner was still sparking around his brain like some sort of live wire that demanded his attention, or action, so this interlude was unexpected to say the least. It was allowing nervousness to fester in Dean's mind.
They stood leaning against perpendicular sides of one of the corners of the kitchen cabinets. Clicks of throats that swallowed water echoing a little too prominently. Someone was going to have to make the first move or Dean was going to combust. And he'd raised himself to make his momma proud, so he was willing to be the bolder man in this scenario. He set his glass down with a very deliberate motion. Then reached to do the same to Cas'. He couldn't help but be a little bit disconcerted that the entire time he was moving, Cas kept his eyes uncharacteristically downcast.
"Hey..." Dean's voice was loud in comparison to the previous hush, but the word had its intended effect and Cas raised his line of sight to meet Dean's, his face schooled to the point of absence.
Instead of more talking, Dean leaned forward and grasped Cas' jaw with greedy, gentle hands, as if he was trying to capture a soap bubble and risking it popping instead. He held Cas' eye contact as he pulled him into a kiss, Cas' own hands reaching for his forearms, not to push back, but to hold on tightly. Kissing is rarely, if ever, not a fantastic experience. Once those nasty early teen years are passed and you work out that there is a speed between having someone else's tongue lie placidly in your mouth like a slug, or God forbid the other extreme of human washing machine. Crack the code and kissing is a wonderland and Cas is made of magic; his stubble scrapes deliciously against Dean's chin and he gasps into their kiss with delight radiating though his little audible breaths and sighs. He's warm and soft and firm and Dean is in heaven.
When he pulled back, Dean took a moment for himself before he opened his eyes to find Cas staring at him, his expression nowhere near as politely detached as before...
"Wow..." was all he seemed to be willing to offer initially. Dean arched an eyebrow to invite further elaboration, but none appeared to be forthcoming.
"Wow?" he eventually queried.
"Wow," nodded Cas in affirmation. Dean was determined that his impatience wasn't going to ruin the moment, but it didn't look like Cas had any intention of making his thoughts any clearer.
"I'm going to need a little more than that, buddy," he said. Cas' eyes narrowed in displeasure. "What?" he tried to keep the defensiveness out of his voice, but it was hard not to feel like Cas wasn't being deliberately obtuse about sparing Dean any emotional discomfort. And yeah, maybe he deserved a little taste of his own medicine, but now was not the time.
"Buddy?" Cas' voice was thick with disdain and he raised his eyebrows challengingly just to make sure that he really hammered home his disgust.
"Baby?" Dean tried on reflex - establishing pet names was always like establishing kinks in Dean's book, lots of awkwardness and soft under bellies exposed until you found your respective niches. If Cas' snort was anything to go by, 'baby' was not on the menu either.
"Oh come on, Cas, help me out here!" Dean's exasperation was desperately trying to shield his nervousness.
"We can come back to pet names later, but the 'wow' was a commendation on the kiss - not bad for a first one." Cas' voice was teasing and coaxing in equal measures.
"Cas, honey -" And now Dean was just throwing out names to be an asshole. "I hate to be the one to break it to you, but we've definitely kissed before just now."
"I have kissed you before tonight, you're quite right, but this evening marks the momentous occasion of you kissing me for the first time," he said as he leaned back against the countertop in victory.
Dean was left to gape stupidly at Cas for a moment. "Wait, what?" Apparently words would not be helping to ease the stupidity.
Cas smiled gently at him and reached to draw Dean into a hug. "You probably don't keep track of all these things, but I have to tell you: when the person you want to be close to is keeping you at arm's length, you begin to keep a little tally on how many times each party initiates contact." Dean made to pull out of the embrace to set Cas straight, but he was held firm. "Just let me finish this, Dean - and it's easier to expose the wound if I don't have to look directly at you." Dean could feel Cas' breath as it puffed across the back of his neck, it was alarmingly intimate. "I was beginning to feel like I was forcing you into this - please don't interrupt, I just need to say it - I noticed that it was always me that kissed you or reached out to touch you. I know you always reciprocated, but it's hard not to get a complex about these things when you're already worried you're forcing the other person into a relationship they don't really want..."
As Cas' words trailed off, Dean squeezed him tighter and turned his head to press several kisses into Cas' neck. He squirmed away at the ticklishness but allowed Dean to maintain the hold.
"And this hypothetical second person that you seem to be addressing is you, right?" Dean may be many things, but he wasn't as incompetent as many a casual observer might have preferred to believe. Cas' responding noise was acquiescence enough.
"Cas, I feel like everything I've contributed to this relationship so far has fucked you over in some way..." And now it was Cas' turn to squeeze back in assurance. "Cas, you mean so much to me and if I'm being honest, it never even occurred to me that I'd never kissed you, but I'm very happy to try to make that up to you."
This time Cas allowed himself to be repositioned so that Dean could kiss him soundly. Lips, tongue, contended sighs and all. It was fucking fantastic. Dean guided them from PG-rated to something much more interesting as soon as decency would allow. And by 'decency', he obviously meant his flaming libido which was currently at war with his conscience. In fairness to his brain, he and Cas had covered some pretty serious topics in the last few hours and there was definitely some scar tissue hiding under the surface for the both of them. But then, you know, sex. Sex with Cas, which, if the kissing was any indication, was definitely going to be awesome.
He added some extra pressure to the most recent of his kisses before pulling back to look Cas in the eye. If the way Cas chased his mouth was anything to go by, his upstairs brain was definitely not going to be victorious today. Outstanding.
He reached for Cas' hand and leaned into his body heat. "Bed?" He tempered his lewder instincts, and smiled at Cas the way that Cas deserved to be smiled at; love, reassurance, desire and hope all dancing across Dean's features.
"We're doing this?" Cas' smile negated any nervousness he might have felt.
"All of it." And because he's Dean Winchester and he can't let any moment be too cinematic... "All I need's a flat surface, darlin'" His swagger is somewhat ruined by the yelp that escaped his mouth when Cas smacked him across the ass. He's strong, okay? And the angle stung. And it was unexpected. If Cas' smug bastard chuckle is anything to go by, he's not even going to allow Dean the illusion of dignity. Marvellous. Actually, it really is. Laughing and joking with Cas has always been one of Dean's favourite pastimes. Do know that that extends to sex as much as the rest of their relationship is pretty fucking spectacular.
Dean pauses one final time on the threshold of his bedroom - it seems more natural to bring Cas into his space since Cas is the one who's been fretting about pushing Dean into a commitment he didn't want to give. He prays briefly but profusely to the gods of good housekeeping that the sheets are relatively fresh and that he hasn't left anything unmentionable lying around on the bedside table, before he leans in to kiss Cas chastely, briefly.
"I love you," he said and it rings of a truth he doesn't dare hope to believe in.
Cas holds his eye, smiles and returns the sentiment.
Well, okay then.