Uncle Cas

We called it love

We called it love

Castiel sipped his red wine as he folded the last of the paperwork he had taken home over the weekend. Wine was better than rum, he decided. It was smoother on his throat for one thing. If there was something Castiel needed it was not a rougher voice, thank you very much.

These last few weeks since he had gotten home had been trying but he thought he was making progress. He was working again, he was down to only one bottle of wine per weekend and every encounter with Crowley didn't necessary mean sex. He was coping and that was good. He had even managed not to think about Dean in any more sex-related scenarios. Kudos to him, Castiel thought.

He and John had even hung out a couple of times and he had been at the Winchester house for dinner a couple of nights. Always when Dean was away though, for seemingly no particular reason other than coincidence. The Winchesters were buying it at least and that was all that mattered to him.

This day was a special day, however. Dean had texted him again and this time saying he wanted to meet. To talk. That he had wanted that for a while but Castiel always seemed so busy. Castiel had felt really bad because he had portrayed himself as more busy than he actually was but Dean didn't need to know that. Point was, he felt guilty enough to agree to a meeting. He was happy though; he felt that he was emotionally prepared and that this time he would be able to be frank with the boy. If his times with Crowley had taught him one thing — besides the fact that Crowley liked to take him from behind because that way it was easier for Crowley to pretend Castiel was that woman he actually liked — it was that he needed to be more vocal and assertive. Like how he was in the bedroom. He would just have to be short and to the point, even Crowley had told him so, when Castiel had admitted that he was meeting his lover boy today. Castiel still didn't dare tell him the truth. He needed Crowley for release — it was the only thing that kept him from the bottle — so he couldn't risk losing him now or relapse.

He sat down on his couch, wine glass still in his hand. He was nervous. The last time he and Dean had talked hadn't worked out so great and he was afraid that the time apart had done him no favors. Not to mention him ignoring Dean's last text.

It was one thing to flee to the other side of the country but a whole other matter to avoid someone who lived in the same town. Also, he was still feeling childish. He was after all the adult and he would have to act it. And scared, he supposed, the unbid thoughts of Dean he had had that time one Crowley sucked him off seemed fresher now than ever. What was it exactly that he wanted with this meeting?

Just as he took another sip his doorbell rang. The sound startled him, mostly since it was never used. People just walked in or maybe knocked. He tried to swallow as he gasped and was assaulted by a coughing fit.

"It's open." He managed between hacks and when Dean walked in and frowned at him he put the wine down on the table to lean back and take a deep breath. He started coughing again.

"You alright there?" Dean asked and hung up his jacket by the door.

Castiel looked at him with teary eyes. His green eyes twinkled with something akin to amusement and his lips quirked at Castiel's difficulties. Gods, it was difficult to dismiss those thoughts now.

But he also seemed different somehow. Castiel couldn't put his finger on it and dismissed it as he tried another deep breath.

"Sure." He wheezed and gestured to the room at large. "Please, sit."

Dean chose the armchair situated at the far end of the table, i.e. the farthest away from Castiel he could get without being rude. Castiel tried to not get hurt by the miniscule gesture.