It's Complicated

Chapter Eight

There are books everywhere. Dean and Castiel have spent most of the morning pulling books off of shelves and stacking them out of the way on the floor so Dean can make the necessary repairs to the shelves.

Castiel is in Dean's clothes again, the jeans riding low enough on his waist that every time he raises his arms a thin strip of tanned skin is revealed, and Dean's more than partially distracted by that and Cas' quickly growing stubble.

Dean thought all night about what he wanted to say, but now that he's here, everything he'd come up with melts away and he's left feeling jittery and weighted.

"You seem distracted," Castiel comments as he peers down at Dean who's lying on the floor, nailing a shelf back in place from the underside.

Dean puts a couple more nails in the wood and sets his nail gun off to the side, sliding out from underneath the shelf and sitting up. "Sorry. Guess I'm just kinda in the zone."

Castiel eyes him curiously. "I've seen you in the zone," he comments, "this is different." And sure maybe they've only known each other for a few weeks, but Dean's beginning to get the feeling Castiel can see more than the naked eye reveals.

Dean pushes himself off the floor and turns to face Castiel head on. "You're right." He finally admits.

"What's bothering you?" Castiel leans himself against the newly fixed shelf and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I just uh-" Dean looks down at his hands before giving Castiel his full attention. "I just got a lot on my mind… 'bout you and me."

"Such as?" Castiel wonders. His gaze is open, willing to hear Dean's words, and all Dean can think is: dammit how did he end up with the quiet guy who likes tea, and cats, and wears shit like waistcoats and sweater vests? A man who kisses like it's his fucking job and is downright wrathful in the mornings unless said morning involves coffee and a shower. A man who makes Dean feel safe, like nothing can touch him when Cas is around, who gives Dean the feeling of being valued, wanted? All Dean can wonder is how he got so lucky.

"I guess I just wanna know what's going on. Your Facebook says ‘It's Complicated’ and while I can't argue that, I don't want it to be complicated anymore."

There's a smile playing at Castiel's lips. "You've been checking my Facebook?" he asks.

"Sam has," Dean grumbles because that is what he's least proud of at this moment in time, that he's relied so heavily on a couple of words on a social networking site to navigate his relationship with the guy.

"So let's uncomplicate things, Dean. What do you want?"

Dean hesitates because this is the hard part, admitting what he wants without knowing if it's what Castiel wants, too. "Cas, I like you," he finally breathes, his palms clamming up and his head feeling a little dizzy. This might be the moment where sharing his feelings actually kills him, but he presses on. "I like you, and I want to know that it's okay to kiss you whenever I feel like it, and I want you to know it's okay to drop by whenever you want, and spend the night as often as you want, and steal my coffee and wear my clothes, and-" Dean stops, assessing the ever growing smile on Castiel's face.

"And?" Castiel urges.

"And I don't think we should see anyone else but each other."

"So you want us to be boyfriends."

Dean internally cringes at the word. "Yeah, but maybe without using the term 'boyfriends'?"

"What do you have against the term 'boyfriends'?" Castiel is close now, his lips a breath away, and Dean's pretty sure he's about to be kissed again.

"I don't know," Dean confesses.

"You said 'cuddle' and survived, I'll bet you could say 'boyfriends' and live to tell the tale as well."

Dean grits his teeth. Castiel is smiling at him, full on, cheeky as hell, smiling, and somehow Dean knows nothing is going to move forward until he gives in.

"Okay," Dean hedges, "I want us to be boyfriends. Now will you please kiss me?"

Castiel slips his fingers in Dean's belt loops and pulls him close, their mouths fitting together like two puzzle pieces that have been missing from the same puzzle. Dean's hands find either side of Castiel's face, and he holds on for dear life as he kisses his boyfriend between the dusty, run down shelves of Stacks. The weight that's been lifted from his shoulders is replaced with a warmth he hasn't felt in a very long time, and Dean smiles into the kiss.

"We don't actually have to use the term 'boyfriends,’" Castiel supplies when they break apart, "I just wanted to hear you say it."

"You're such an ass," Dean responds.

"I'm your ass now," Castiel retorts.

Dean chuckles, pulling Castiel in for another kiss, "You sure are."

Days later, when Castiel finally gets around to changing his relationship status on Facebook, Dean stares at the words ‘In a Relationship’ and realizes maybe things weren't so complicated after all.

THE END