Cas had been at work when his phone alerted him to the sudden disappearance of Sasha James. Dean’s wife Sasha James, and his first thought was for Dean. He knew Dean would have already started to drink the moment he had gotten the news, and that was why Cas had already stopped stocking shelves and told his manager he had an emergency and had to leave. The people in Vallo seemed to be very lenient about things like that because in a place like this there always seemed to be something happening that was considered an emergency. And if anything was an emergency to Cas, Dean was certainly it.
Hurriedly, he had gotten the tacos, ice cream and pies - as well as things to make the taco pies later or tomorrow - and hurried back to the Bunker to feed and water Dean, and to make sure he didn’t drink and watch crappy movies alone in the Fortress of Deanitude. Which was exactly where Cas had found him, already on his way to being blackout drunk. Cas knew he had absolutely no room to judge Dean or anyone for that matter when he himself spent most of his time drunk or high, but at least he could make sure Dean wouldn’t be doing it by himself.
When Sam had come to join them earlier a nearly drunk Cas had vacated the recliner he was in, the one he had pulled flush to Dean’s, and just crawled in to share the other chair with Dean. Sam had offered to bring in a stool for himself, but Cas had waved him off and ignored the raised eyebrows Sam and the look Sam had given him before he sat down. Hours later when Sam had left them for DJ’s bath and their bedtime, Cas hadn’t moved from Dean’s seat, and Dean didn’t seem too pressed for him to leave either.
“How are you doing there, champ?” Cas asked him, absently stroking his fingers gently through Dean’s short hair while he looked at him to see if he was still awake, the TV flickering some western movie in the background that he had stopped paying attention to when Sam had found the series on Netflix. “More beer? Pie? Feel like talking?”
When he first saw the notification of her disappearance, Dean had thought it was a mistake. But, unfortunately, it was real. Sasha had left Vallo and she was unlikely to return. He sat there staring at the ring on his hand for a good thirty minutes before he finally got up and started to clean out the liquor cabinet. Instead of getting himself a glass, Dean was drinking straight from the bottle.
It wasn't too long after that he got the message from Cas and how could he turn down pie and tacos? By the time Sam rolled in, Dean was already three sheets to the wind, and when Cas made himself at home in his lap, he didn't give a fuck.
He had eaten far too much, but he wasn't really concerned about that at the moment. "I dunno," he replied with a tired sigh, honestly not sure how he was feeling. His eyes closed as Cas brushed his fingers through his hair and he decided to enjoy the simple touch. "What's there to talk about? I was married, and now I'm not. Cause she's gone and now I'm just left with her things here. I just can't have nice things, ever. I need to come to terms with that. If I expect too much, I'll always be disappointed. So, I should lower my expectations to something less than they are now. Which, I don't even know what the fuck they are at this point. Everyone fucking leaves and it sucks."
The minute Dean had realized that his brother had bid him goodnight, Cas had half-expected to be dumped out of Dean’s lap and to the floor, or maybe even drunkenly transferred over to the empty chair by Dean. He was surprised when he retained his spot, almost as surprised as he’d been when he’d been allowed to take it in the first place.
“She could come back,” Cas said, starting to get the hang of the way this place worked. People would come and people would go, and people would leave and come back with no memory of whatever time they spent here. It was strange how it worked, but it did work. “And she might not. But you shouldn’t blame yourself for her leaving, or think it has anything to do with you. It doesn’t. Sometimes things just happen and we can’t stop or help that especially in a place like this, where we should expect the unexpected.”
His fingers continued to move slowly through Dean’s hair, still lightly touching his scalp. If he still had his powers as an angel he would have been able to do more, to soothe Dean with his touch more, to make his friend feel a little better, at least physically, and maybe even help him to sleep.
“Nah, she’s not coming back. She’s dead back home, much like me.” Dean lamented with a dramatic sigh and reached over to pick up the mostly empty whiskey bottle. “I don’t get to have nice things, that’s just the way it is.” He tilted his head back and let the last few drops of whiskey drop into his mouth. He let the bottle fall next to the chair and shifted his position to get a little more comfortable, hugging Cas like a teddy bear.
“I was stupid to think I could have a happily ever after.” His gaze drifted over to the television where he stared at the screen with a blank expression. “Happiness is an illusion, Cas. It’s just a big, fat lie, and if it does exist, it certainly has no place in my life, that’s for damn sure.” He scoffed with a laugh and shook his head.
“I’m sure this is the last thing you want to be doing. Listening to me moan and groan about my life. You don’t have to keep me company, feel free to go off and do whatever you want. I’ll probably be passing the fuck out soon anyway.”
“I don’t get nice things either,” Cas admitted. “The numbness helps, not thinking about it helps. But probably stupidly, I hope that one day something nice might fall into my lap. Or vice versa.” He smiled back at Dean, letting the other man get as comfortable as he needed to, to hold him however he liked. He wasn’t entirely used to Dean - his Dean - showing him this much affection. For them it was normally a quick roll in the hay, something that meant as much to Dean as a quick handjob or blowjob from a stranger. The affection probably didn’t mean as much to Dean, or anything at all to him, but to Cas, as affection starved as he felt, he was happy to get it and he didn’t want to leave it behind just yet.
“I don’t mind. You said that Cas is your best friend - well, I’m Cas. Maybe not the right one, but - I’m here for you,” he snuggled back against Dean, testing the waters so to speak, just to see how much Dean would allow. “And I’m comfortable. With you is where I want to be.”
"Awww, that's so sweet of you, Cas. You're the best." He declared with a bright smile, and moved to wrap his arms around the other, embracing him in a warm hug. "You're nice and squishy, like a big, handsome teddy bear." Dean continued, his speech a little slurred at this point.
"I don't know what I'd do without you." As much as he enjoyed Sam's company, it felt different with Cas. Maybe because he didn't feel like he had to have all the answers for him. Not that Sam demanded it, it was something Dean had placed upon himself. "You're not leaving, right? You're staying here?"
Cas snorted a laugh. “Look at that, he thinks I’m handsome. Cue blushing.” He said it as a joke, his voice was a light and teasing tone, but he really was blushing, a reaction he wasn’t used to having and one he was glad he could hide in the shadows while he mostly faced away from Dean. “I’ve been called plenty, but teddy bear isn’t one of those things.” And no one ever said that to him, that they didn’t know what they’d do without him. It was drunkenly said, he knew that, but it was still overwhelming to hear the words.
“I’m not going anywhere, you’ve got me for as long as you want me,” he burrowed a little closer to Dean to compound what he just said, turning just so so that he could wrap an arm partially around Dean’s shoulder and lean back into him. “Even if you fall asleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Dean mumbled some nonsense in response and nodded his head in agreement, which was followed up by a loud snore. He woke up the next morning and cringed from the pounding in his head. He lifted his hand to rub briskly over his face and it took him a moment to notice the weight against him. "What the-" his head dropped and he looked down to see Castiel fast asleep on his lap. "Cas," he shifted against the chair and let out a loud groan, his back stiff from spending the night in the chair. His mind wandered back to last night and he tried to recall if he had done or said anything he might regret, but nothing was coming to mind.
"Cas, c'mon, I gotta get up from this chair." He reached down and gave him a nudge. "I need coffee, stat, lots of it," he added with a mumble. "Time to rise and shine, buddy. Up and at 'em."
About an hour after Dean fell asleep, Cas tried to move to make the other man more comfortable, to give him more room to stretch out and not have a weight sitting heavily on his legs. But when he tried to move, Dean became an octopus, pulling him back against him and holding Cas close to his chest, with a slight grip that told Cas how much he wasn’t a problem. He looked over at Dean, mouth open and snoring, the faint scent of whiskey and apple pie strong on his breath, and Cas smiled. “You’re so attractive like this,” he whispered, low and for his own ears as he stroked a thumb lightly of Dean’s sideburns. “You’re lucky it’s just me and you don’t have a girl in your lap.”
Cas didn’t know when he had fallen asleep, but he remembered dreaming of green eyes and plush lips with strong arms holding him tight, and when he awoke the next morning, it was exactly to that scene, so much that he sleepily snuggled closer to Dean, a scenario he had never gotten to live aside from in a dream state. “Is coffee all you want this morning?” Cas murmured and almost slipped into dreamland again when suddenly his eyes flew open.
Shit
To his credit, he didn’t fly from Dean’s lap, but sat there a moment, becoming more alert, able to feel the stiffness on his back and Dean’s drool on his neck and shoulder (how had they even slept last night?) the aromatic smell of fresh coffee wafting in from the kitchen. “Coffee,” he finally said in return, moving around enough to reach for the handle that would draw the recliner back to its original position so they could move. “Yes, and then a shower,” he added jokingly, an attempt to cover the awkward spot they had woke up in. “You’re more than welcome to join me.”
“Well, some bacon would be good as well?” Dean looked at him curiously and scratched over his jaw, his stomach growling, as if on cue. “Yup, bacon for sure,” he nodded in agreement and gave Cas another nudge to get up. “Yes, a shower too, that is def-” he cut himself short at the offering to join Cas in the shower. His body tensed and he tried to pull his thoughts together, but his head was currently in disaster mode.
“I appreciate the invite, but I’ll just wait for you to finish.” He hadn’t said anything as far as he could recall, but maybe something had slipped out in his drunkenness. “Actually, I’ll probably eat something, take some aspirin and conk out in my bed.”
Cas threw his legs to the floor, trying to have as little contact as possible though given the situation they were in that was a difficult feat. "I'm sure that Mrs. Butters will gladly cook you up some breakfast," Cas threw his arms over his head and gave a stretch, then on the other side as well. "She seems to enjoy cooking a great deal."
Weird. It was weird. Maybe he should have just left last night when Dean had tightened his arms around him, it was clear then and clearer now that it wasn't actually him that Dean thought he had in his arms, and maybe Cas took advantage of how nice it felt. At least he hadn't done anything stupid.
"I have a shift in a few hours so I'm gonna go start getting ready for that," he reached down and grabbed up his shoes and a few of the empty bottles from the coffee table. "Hope your head feels better. Need anything before I go?"
Great. Now there was an awkwardness between them and he wasn’t sure how to really address it. Dean stood from the chair with a groan and clasped his hands behind him as he stretched himself. Avoid it. Pretend like it never happened. Yes, that was the best course of action, naturally. “Nah, I’m fine, but thanks for the offer, and thanks for keeping me company last night.” Ten years ago, if Dean had woken up to a sleeping Castiel on his lap, he probably would have flipped. Now, it really wasn’t such an issue, but it still felt weird.
Had he taken advantage of the other? No, Cas had wanted to spend the time with him, and Dean had wanted the company. His hand brushed through his hair slowly as he watched Cas pick up some of the empty bottles. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it later.” Though it was more likely that Mrs. Butters would get to it before him. “I hope you have a good day at work, Cas.”
Dean looked and sounded uncomfortable, and Cas was sorry for it. He hadn't done anything to apologize for, he didn't think he had anyway, so apologizing might take an already strained situation and make it stranger. So he didn't say anything. He was sure things would fall back into place easily, but he couldn't help but feel there would always be an awkwardness coming from Dean and he might be careful around Cas from now on, and not drink around him or trust that it would be hands-off when he was drunk with Cas.
"No problem. I uh, hope we helped a little," he looked down at the few bottles he was holding and shrugged, meaning he already had them, he'd just drop them in the trash on his way to his room. "You have a good day too, Dean."