So remember what god told us!
HOARD TOILET PAPER WHILE YOU STILL CAN!!!!!
prompt by the brilliant hummingbirdcas : What if for some reason Cas and Dean have been locked in a room and the only way for them to get out is for them to have a nice open discussion about their feelings; starts out with them admitting things and then somehow it leads to their feelings for each other?
“Well, I’m not going first,” Dean said. “You go.”
Cas glared at him.
It had seemed such a routine case – a series of suspicious disappearances in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico; rumours of a strange, white-clad woman who flickered in and out of view; several leads which the boys had traced back to an old house on the outskirts of town.
“The Truth Shall Set Ye Free,” Cas had said as they stood together by the front door, reading the words etched into the grey bricks above their heads. He remembered Dean throwing him a strange look, and then saying gruffly,
“Sam, you take the basement. I’ll take the first floor, and Cas can search upstairs. Yell if you’re about to die, meet you back here in ten.”
Inside, the house had been surprisingly light and spacious. There was no furniture upstairs of any kind, except in one room, where there were two large hourglasses sitting on a rough wooden table. Cas had taken his time inspecting them, sure that they must have something to do with the haunting.
“Cas? You OK?”
“In here,” Cas called, hearing Dean’s footsteps creaking across the slatted wooden hallway.
“You’ve been longer than ten minutes, Cas, we don’t agree on meeting times like that just for kicks. You’ve got to –”
Bam. The door had slammed shut behind Dean as he entered the room, and in front of them a beautiful, dark-skinned woman dressed in white had flickered into view.
“Good morning,” she’d said, with a wicked grin. “My name is Veritas, goddess of truth. Welcome to my home. We’re going to have a lot of fun.”
Cas kissed the top of her dirty blond head and gently pushed her toward the waiting bus. Dean was standing just behind his shoulder with his hand on the small of Cas’ back.
Emma dashed forward, and Dean’s arm instinctively wrapped around Cas’ waist as he slumped against Dean’s side. “She’ll be fine,” Dean promised as he kissed Cas’ hair.
Emma was just about to step up onto the bus when she turned to give her fathers a brilliant smile and wave, but when she saw their expressions, she rushed back. She crashed into them and gave their legs a quick hug.
"Don’t worry. I love you," she promised before darting away again just as fast and scampering up onto the bus.
"She gets that from your brother," Cas sniffled.
"What? The Labrador gene? You might be right," Dean said with a soft laugh. Cas elbowed him in the ribs but smiled a little as Emma pressed her face to the window and waved at them.
"We can’t protect her now."
"From what? Kindergartners?"
"Kids are cruel, Dean."
"Yeah, I know. I grew up poor, moving from place to place. She’s tough; she’ll be fine. And she’s got us if anyone gives her a hard time. I’m not afraid of a five year old," Dean said as he gave Cas a squeeze.
Cas smiled as he leaned up to kiss Dean softly. “You say that now, but when she’s fifteen and boys or girls start making her cry, are you still going to be so sure?” he asked with a knowing twist of his lips.
"I’ve got knives and a shovel for them," Dean said fiercely and pulled Cas in close. "No horny boys are going to touch my girl. I know how they think…"
"I know, but she’s tough," Cas fed back to him.
Dean looked at him with narrowed eyes. “This blows, Cas. Let’s go. Baby can catch up to the bus at the next stop. We can get her back, and forget about school. If she nev—”
Cas pulled Dean back to him and kissed him long and hard before Dean could jump in his car and ruin their daughter’s first day of school, her chances of making friends, and get himself arrested.
"Come back inside. We haven’t have an empty house in ages," Cas finally said, and Dean stopped in his tracks. Cas could see him weighing his daughter’s distant future against getting laid now.
"You drive a hard bargain, babe," he said as he dragged Cas back toward the house. Emma would be fine. After all, he’d been teaching her self-defensive since she could stand.
"What if one day," Dean says. "We just took off?"
Dean and Castiel are sitting side-by-side on the living room couch of the bunker when Dean shares the idea. There’s a movie playing, but Castiel isn’t paying attention to it. Everything he is is focused on the mere inches that separate him from Dean; how they had both chosen to sit close enough to touch but neither reaching out to close that distance.
The words shock Castiel out of his thoughtful trance, and he whips his head to look at Dean, feeling the warmth of the blush that spreads across his cheeks. He almost worries Dean could tell his mind was occupied by things that certainly were not whatever these people in various colored shirts in space were doing.
But Dean isn’t watching the movie, either. He’s staring at his hands, which he keeps folded in his lap. Castiel blinks twice, positive he must not have heard Dean correctly. “Come again?” he asks.
Dean shifts a little, still not looking at Castiel. “You heard me,” he mutters, sounding far more shy than he had before. “We could just leave. Haul ass. You, me, and Sammy. Get as far off the grid as possible; go somewhere where no angels or demons could ever find us.”
The broken expression on Dean’s face makes Castiel’s heart ache. It tells him that he knows the answer before Castiel even says it. “Dean…” he says sadly. “No such a place exists.”
Dean’s whole body sags and he brings his hands up to rub at his face. “I know,” he says. “Yeah, I know. Too many responsibilities, anyway. Couldn’t leave now. Stupid idea.”
He looks at Castiel then, green eyes unusually open and unguarded. “But do you ever wish we could? Just drop everything and leave? Go somewhere safe where Sammy could finish school, find himself a wife, and we could-“
Dean abruptly stops talking, letting the end of that sentence hang in the air between them. Castiel stops breathing.
"We could what, Dean?" he asks, surprised his voice can sound so calm while his heart is beating a tattoo against his chest. Dean looks back down at his lap and worries his bottom lip with his teeth, his own blush creeping onto his cheeks.
It’s a long, long minute before Dean answers. “Talk about us,” he says in nearly a whisper. “Just…” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s trying to start but not sure how to. Eventually he makes a noise of frustration and shrugs his shoulders in a way that looks forced. “Just talk about us.”
Castiel draws in a shaky breath. “Yes,” he finally says. Dean lifts his head and when he looks back to Castiel, his eyebrows nearly touch his hairline. “Yes, I wish we could. I would… I would like that a lot.”
The two stare at each other. There’s an understanding that’s been established here—made through pounding hearts and broken conversation, but one that’s needed to be made for a very long time.
"Okay," Dean murmurs after awhile.
"Okay," Castiel murmurs back, trying to convey everything he can’t into the one word.
And then they both continue pretending to watch the movie.
This is probably the best way to go there that I’ve read in a fanfic. It perfectly balances the nature of the show, and Dean and Cas’ personalities.
Why don’t we just share the bed then? Is that a good idea? Yeah. We’ll go head to toe.