The Impossible Happy

What is love?

Dean stopped.

What the fuck did he just say? Was he hearing wrong? That must've been a mistake.

A million thoughts pounded at the walls of his skull, racing, kicking, screaming. This couldn't be happening, it shouldn't be happening.

'People don't love Dean Winchester'
Was the banner plastered all over the insides of Dean's brain. He knew, deep down maybe, that he was starting to fall for Castiel as well, but there was a cement block in between this piece of information and his ability to regurgitate information verbally.

Yes, Dean knew, almost immediately, that there was no possible way that he could say the words back. He knew, that no matter how much he wanted to leap over the table and kiss the guy, he couldn't. He wouldn't.

"Er....uhm...Cas..." Dean couldn't make eye contact, he cleared his throat. "that's uh, hm. Just, wow-whoa. Well, uh...ah...I-I-I...." Dean felt cowardly and invincible, all at the same time. "I...dunno man, it's just--"

"It's alright, Dean." Castiel took the struggling boys hand in his, smiling warmly at the mess before him.

"Really?" Relief drenched the word. what looked like something that could resemble a smile began to form at Dean's lips.

"Yes, Dean. I understand."

"You do?"

"Yes. I just thought you should know."

"Thank you." Dean closed his eyes and smiled, that rush of relief enveloping him. His hand still placed in the Angels, he felt at home.

He didn't even realize he was leaning towards the Angel until his lips collided with Castiel's. He hardly noticed when the Angel pulled his hand up and they began rushing to the nearest room, sloppy kisses and pecking being shared along the way. He was barely phased by Castiel ripping his clothes off, and he, Castiel. He wasn't fully aware of anything, really, not until Castiel pulled out, sticky and hot. And it was really only the realization of pain and pleasure that lingered in his lower stomach. For the most part, he was dazed. He was blissful. He was...happy.

****

Dean didn't know what the hell he was doing, Castiel noticed, when it came to sex. He wasn't surprised, however. In fact, though he had always known Dean was gay, he had never even heard him say it outright. Thankfully, Castiel knew his way around the bed. Castiel knew quite well. It wasn't perfect of course, but it felt real. Passionate. Whole.

He didn't even need Dean to say 'I love you' back to know that he did, he just needed this moment with him. Just needed their bodies intertwined, sweaty and tired out. Just needed the look on Dean's face, the slight smile on his lips as he slept. It was as good as any 'I love you' that came from the mouth.

So, there he lay. In the dark, Deans arms draped loosely around him. Dean looked so peaceful to the Angel, so perfectly without worry. As for him, even though the blood pumping through his veins were swollen with love for this man, his heart was asphalt. As he knew, he knew it could not be. Not forever, anyways. He had killed his own garrison, Dean had his doubts, Castiel, his own. They weren't even officially 'together'. He knew. And it scared him, in this moment it seemed to him that the only thing that didn't scare him was the other man's presence next to him. His peaceful face. The rise and fall of his chest. That was his lifesaver, the only thing keeping him from drowning in his own thoughts and fears.

Dean Winchester was saving Castiel. And he didn't even know it.