Broken wings || Destiel

Chapter 2

His dreamless sleep was interrupted by obnoxiously loud knocking on the door, and the sound resonated through his head like a thousand knives stabbing his brain from the inside. He opened his eyes and it took him a few moments to realize he was laying on the floor, the rough carpet scratching his skin. He sat up and the room was spinning around him, making his stomach tighten and his breathing race. His head hurt and he had feeling in his gut as if there was something he should remember but he couldn't quite put a finger on it, so he let it go and instead focused on trying to calm his stomach down a bit, before finally finding the strength to stand up, still stumbling a bit when he made his way over to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. The light outside was too bright and it felt like there was a million needles right behind his eyes so he threw an arm over his face, ignoring the questioning look his brother was giving him as walked in past him, scrunching up his nose as the strong smell of alcohol hit him.

Dean closed the door and collapsed on the couch, burying his face in his hands and taking a few deep breaths, before looking up at his younger brother who was still watching him with that puzzled look, holding an empty bottle of vodka in his hand, one eyebrow raised.

"Don't," Dean pleaded, but he already knew he was going to get the speech anyway.

"So... what was that about?"

"Nothing? Like, yeah. It was... nothing. I fell, and he was there, and- I don't know, for God's sake, we kissed, alright. That's it. The end."

"Dean, you had your tongue down his throat for about five minutes, and like, I'm not judging, but he is a guy. So, anything you want to tell me?"

" 't wasn't five minutes, shut up," Dean groaned and buried his head in the pillows, and they smelled like Cas, and suddenly his throat felt a little too dry to speak, and his head was spinning a little too fast, and he could hear his brother speaking but it sounded like his voice was coming from somewhere afar so he blocked it out and dived into his own mind, trying to find any sense in what happened.

It wasn't even about the fact he made out with a man, he's pulled a few blokes before, it was about the fact that the man was a celestial being, probably thousands of years old, more powerful than any creature he's ever faced, and one of the few people Dean had left to consider as a family. It was about the fact that he felt different than when he slept with random girls he met, and he knew it wasn't just because he knew Cas for some time, it felt more like a part of him he didn't know was missing finally clicked, and he felt whole, more alive than he felt in the past few years. And it didn't matter how many times he repeated how ridiculous the thought was, he couldn't shake the feeling there was a certain force pulling them together, a force stronger than both of them.

"... wouldn't tell you, but I thought it could maybe, like, help you to know I've been there too, and it's nothing to be ashamed of, ya know, liking guys."

"What?"  Dean's head shot up and his eyes widened, because really, he expected to hear a lot, but he didn't expect to hear that.

"What?"

"Did you just come out to me?"

"No, Jesus, no, I'm just saying I tried it, you know, don't knock it 'till you try it and all that," Sam responded, looking almost offended.

"Right, tried it," Dean smirked, and watched as Sam's face turned a deep shade of red.

"Shut up," he groaned and sat down on the couch next to Dean, and this time it was his turn to hide his face in his hands, sighing loudly.

"I hope you used protection, baby brother, don't wanna get the poor bloke knocked up," Dean snickered, enjoying his little moment of victory, before he saw Sam shaking his head and his cheeks getting even darker shade of red than before, and he gasped dramatically.

"No way!"

"Just shut up, oh my god, I was like eighteen and he was twenty-nine," Sam sighed and looked up at his older brother who was holding a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing, with tears in the corners of his eyes, and he let out a quiet laugh as he shook his head, because this conversation was supposed to be about him laughing at Dean, not the other way around, but then again, Dean always got what he wanted.

"I have no idea what to do," Dean spoke up after a while of comfortable silence, his eyes glued to the floor.

"I guess talking to him wouldn't kill you? I mean, I'm not really the one to be giving you relationship advice, but talking things out always helps," Sam turned to him, smiling lightly, because he could see it in Dean's face, could see the sparkle that wasn't there before, could see the happiness raditaing through the confusion and fear, and it just felt right to see him like that, as if he finally found what he was looking for his whole life.

"Yeah, yeah I guess I could try that," Dean nodded his head and smiled, taking a deep breath and looking up at Sam, "could you, like, not be here for a while? I mean- not like that, just- you can take my car, yeah? I just need to talk to him and I'm not sure what it might lead to, so, like, yeah, you know."

"Did you just say I can take your car?" Sam almost squealed, and Dean was sure he'd be embarrassed about it later, but he decided not to point it out and just nodded and snickered as he watched his brother jump from the couch and grab the keys before running out of the door, closing it with a rushed wishes of good luck and dispappearing into the parking lot.

Dean smiled and took a few deep breaths, getting up from the couch and stretching his back, trying to shake off the nervousness and ignoring the lump in his throat as he spoke up.

"Cas, get your ass down here, we need to talk."