"Dammit, Cas!"
Dean pounded his fist on the table, angrier than I had seen him before, which was saying something. He must have been drinking or something, because I had only been gone for a few hours, seeking out a demon to bring back to the bunker to interrogate. Why was he getting so frustrated?
This was usually the part where I would try and appease Dean, assure him that I hadn't been in any danger, let him break whatever he needed in order to calm down. But this time, something seemed to stir in me, stopping me from playing nice, forgetting to put Dean's needs first.
"Shut the hell up, Dean," I retorted, raising my voice forcefully. "When are you going to stop treating me like I'm a child?" His eyes narrowed from across the table. "When are you going to stop acting like you're my babysitter, like I can't be out past ten on my own?"
Dean's eyebrows raised in interest before his face turned competitive, sensing a challenge from me for the first time in a while. "Oh," he laughed with a sarcastic smile. "So this is my fault now? I'm the one who's being overprotective?"
"It was one demon, Dean!"
"Well, demons can kill!" Dean snapped, crossing his arms. "Even the best."
"What is your problem?" I pushed, not letting Dean step away from the argument. "Do you not trust me, is that it?"
His expression darkened venomously. "Don't pull that card, Cas."
Damn, the way he said it. The exasperation in his eyes that quickened my heart, sending a hot wave of angst through me. I almost gave in, tempted to stop arguing and let him think whatever he wanted and continue his overprotective habits, but as I continued to look at him, I didn't. A part of me, for too long, wanted to know the origins of his protective mannerisms, why he couldn't just let stupid things like not answering the phone go.
"Don't tell me what to do."
Despite a quick flash of surprise, his face remained neutral, the expression of someone used to many heated arguments. "Excuse me?"
My voice quivered in the slightest. "Don't tell me what to do, Dean."
He scoffed. "Oh, you mean like 'answer your damn phone?' Shit, Cas, I didn't know that was so much to ask."
"What is it with you, Dean?" I erupted. "When Sam's gone for hours, you don't so much as text him. We haven't seen Charlie in months. You even left Kevin with Garth. So tell me, why, when it comes to me, do you act like a displeased parental figure?"
He just stood there, arms crossed, with the same neutral look as before. It was almost unsettling. "Why the hell do you think, Cas?" he shot, eyes fixated on me for an answer.
I cocked my head habitually. "Why?"
"It's you, Cas," he growled, my heart speeding as he walked around the table. "I don't care what you think, anymore, I don't care what anyone thinks." he stopped right in front of me. "Damn it, Cas, I can't lose you!"
He was yelling, surprisingly angry for the meaning of his words. He focused on my face, as if searching it for some kind of answer amidst his enmity. "You're...worried, about me?" I questioned hesitantly, his words running themselves over and over in my mind. What did he mean?
"Worried?" his eyes pleaded. "Cas, don't you get it? I need you."
The anger, my anger, at least, had dissolved, and I became more confused than hungry for a fight. I need you. It sounded surprisingly intimate for a person so seemingly angry. I couldn't understand what he was trying to say. I mean, of course he needed me. Was he talking about retrieving the demon? Something else?
"What..." I started again, unable to say anything else. "What do you mean?"
There was a tangible pause as he didn't respond, not immediately. He said nothing, but kept looking at me, as if there was something I was missing or some secret only he knew. We stared at each other for a beat more, just before he took an intimidating step forward, causing me to take a wary step back. I gulped.
My back hit the table, but Dean didn't stop. He kept coming closer and closer, right up until I could feel his breath against my skin, see clearly the possessive quality his envy-eyes now contained. I didn't bother to say anything. I couldn't manage to choke something out against the current of butterflies that hummed in my stomach, my heart pounding. Feelings too unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome.
Then, with force, he cornered me against the table, causing me to lean against it for support. In one swift motion, he had himself against me, his face only inches away from mine. My lips tingled when his breath danced across my skin, and I could feel the stubble resulting from endless sleepless nights. I could feel his eyes tracing mine.
He kissed me.
It's called kissing, but it felt more like stealing my breath. Like he was pleading for life, hungry for a breath of fresh air. I couldn't breathe for a moment, which I didn't care less about. I would have given him all the air he needed, despite how annoyingly overprotective he was.
Yes, I had kissed people before. Of course. Meg, Hannah, the reaper-in-disguise. But this, Dean, was nothing like them. He was still angry, I could tell, fueling the frustration into the intensity of...us, together, the heat of the argument melting us into one. With a rough grip, he ran his fingers through my hair, tugging, pulling me closer. Like a fish caught in a wave, I merely followed, wherever he wanted.
He pulled away, suddenly, quickly. The loss of him sent a chill through my body, suddenly cold. I opened my eyes with unwillingness. "Dean?"
He looked at me, suddenly further away, as if he were backing off. "Do you...understand, now, Cas?" A glimmer of doubt creased his face.
In something of a daze, I smiled. "I get it, Dean." I couldn't pull my eyes away from his lips.
"Well?"
"Well what, Dean?" I couldn't stop my mouth from saying his name, either.
"Is it okay? Are we okay?"
I smirked, grabbing his hand. "Yes, Dean. I should have known by now that 'I need you' is the Winchester 'I love you.'"
He froze, suddenly shocked. "Oh, I mean..."
I cut him off with another kiss, unable to help myself. "I need you too, Dean. And I promise to answer the damn phone next time."
