Remain Hidden (DESTIEL AU)

Chapter Six

Castiel wished someone would pinch him, and he'd wake up from this horrible nightmare. How had he let this happen? How had he gone against his own promise to leave after accepting Dean's thanks to go to dinner, and somehow was now stuck on Earth until further notice? With Dean practically glued to his side, no less? He should've just flown home when he had the chance and risked offending the Earth King. Now he had no chance of going against his King's orders.

There was already a small chamber set up for him, but Castiel had a feeling he wouldn't be using it too much. After all, he was expected to guard Dean practically 24/7. In Heaven, Castiel and all other winged people needed a few hours of sleep at the very least, but Earth was different. He knew that people of Heaven who had their wings didn't need sleep at all, so there was no point in even using the soft mattress or thick blankets awaiting him in the chambers.

He collapsed down in a nearby chair, scrubbing his face with his hands. He should probably be guarding Dean right now, but he was too busy trying to adjust to his overturned life. He should be back in Heaven now, grieving the loss of his garrison or taking a quiet walk down the silver sand beaches to clear his head. Instead he was here, fighting back his hammering heart and fierce blush as his mind replayed the events of that night's dinner.

Dean had asked him so many questions. He seemed surprisingly interested in Castiel's life, a side of the Prince that he had never seen before. He even looked angry when Castiel spoke about how Dean (although he didn't know it was really himself) had treated him when he was a serving boy. Perhaps Charlie and the others had been right. Perhaps the Prince had changed in more ways than one.

Castiel personally didn't like that Dean was a few inches taller than him, somehow a physical reminder that he was below him. But he could have sworn it was Dean who felt at below him. His grassy-green eyes were wide with wonder and amazement as Castiel caught him staring at his wings at the dining table, and he could see the temptation in his gaze. But that didn't mean anything—surely everyone who didn't have wings would want to touch something so magical and surreal.

But as much as Castiel tried to push away the old feelings bubbling to the surface—his heart jumping whenever he caught those eyes, his mind overthinking every little gesture Dean gave—it didn't work. When Dean choked on his water earlier, Castiel nearly upended his chair to help him—to protect him. A flash of terror and blind panic had jolted through him, thinking the poisonous air was doing something worse to Dean's lungs.

This stupid, stubborn crush had to be uprooted. There was no way it would ever work, even if Dean had changed and Castiel took the stupid risk to try. He was now in a kingdom ruled by the most powerful homophobe in all three Realms, who's eldest son was definitely as straight as the horizon, and Castiel was just a knight. There were too many obstacles, too many things blocking the path to this hypothetical reality. Best to squash it out right here and now before things got out of hand.

I do not love Dean Winchester.

I am his guard.

I do not love Dean Winchester.

I will do my duty and nothing more.

Castiel mulled these words in his head over and over, but somewhere deep down he knew he'd forget them the moment his saw Dean again. It was going to take more than a few words to get over and through this.

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Dean woke up rather groggily the next morning, having done nothing but toss and turn in his sleep. Those damn blue eyes just kept chasing him around, keeping him awake and painfully aware of how empty the bed was around him.