Chapter Text
The old shack on the edge of town was much like Castiel in its very essence. It was worn down and marred but it stood strong and beautiful in front of the impending sunset on the horizon. Dean stood and admired it as he rehearsed his words until they made themselves permanent in his brain. When he was satisfied with what he was to say, Dean ventured along to cobblestone pathway to Castiel’s porch and stood, afraid to knock yet afraid to turn and leave. Castiel faced his fear long ago and now it was Dean’s turn. Three knocks and the door was opened slowly, revealing an angel in its truest form.
Time had done Castiel well. He was like a bottle of Craig, better with age. His jawline sharp and covered with dark stubble that matched his hair, hair that after all these years still seemed to have never met a comb. Blue eyes still reminiscent of cold ocean waves in the middle of winter and full, ever-chapped lips held a vice grip on Dean’s mind until those words he practiced over again were all he could find when he searched his brain. Dean’s knees were weak and he thought himself too weak to stand in the presence of someone who captured his mind the day he met him.
“Dean-“ Castiel’s voice, deep and gravelly with age and an air of millennia-old wisdom struck Dean where he stood with the force of a bolt of lightning.
“Castiel Novak,” Dean interrupted, “I wished every day that you would forgive me even when every fiber of my being told me you wouldn't. The memories of the way I treated you haunted me every day. I still remember the feeling of your cheekbone cracking under my fist and the way you held on to my wrist, begging for me to stop. I would wake up in the middle of the night, wishing it was still that old room in my dad's house and you were still there. I swear I can still feel that pathetic kiss when you were almost unconscious. If you asked me why I kissed you, I couldn't even tell you. Cause to be honest, I didn't know. For the first time in forever, something was real. For so long I tried to forget the fleeting memories I had of you, of your gummy smile when Charlie told you a joke and the way your breathing became uneven as you stirred in your sleep. Keeping my distance was hard as hell but it was the only way you would be happy. You don't owe me an apology. I would spend every breath in my body begging for a shred of forgiveness from you. I am so damn sorry, Castiel, and I hope that you will one day accept my apology.”
Dean dropped his gaze to the ground beneath him and wiped away the tears he did not recall shedding. However, once he noticed them, they did not seem to stop falling. Only when a calloused, yet still soft and comforting, hand reached out to wipe them away did he look up. He saw Castiel shedding his own tears and wearing that big, watery smile that Dean had missed so much in the last twelve years.
“Cas, I-“ Dean’s next statement went unspoken as he was interrupted by Castiel grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him in for the most awkward, forceful kiss he had ever experienced. It was all teeth and squashed noses but it was perfect. Any kiss in any fashion with Castiel would be perfect to Dean.
“I’ve been waiting over twelve years for a real kiss from you, Dean. I did not intend to wait any longer. Now, come inside. There’s a storm coming and we have over a decade to make up for.” With that, Castiel calmly walked back inside his home and Dean scrambled after him excitedly. The inside of Castiel's home reflected him perfectly. The old, antique furniture and the paintings hanging on the wall just felt like they belonged in the same space as Castiel. In the midst of his observation, Dean heard Castiel clear his throat to grab his attention and when he finally refocused on him, Castiel held out an arm, gesturing to his couch. Dean followed him over to the old, plush couch in the middle of the room and stood awkwardly, trying to decide if he should sit on the side opposite Castiel or if he should sit as close as two humans could possibly get.
“Stop overthinking, Dean, and come sit.” Castiel opened his arms wide. Okay, so clearly Castiel picked Dean’s spot and that spot was his lap. Obviously Cas wasn't the shy boy he knew long ago. That works. Dean walked over to Castiel trying, and failing, to hide how nervous and excited he was. When he was finally in front of the dark-haired man he was aching to speak with, a hand wrapped around his waist and he was pulled down onto an exceptionally bony lap.
"Geez, Cas! Your thighs are freakin' toothpicks, man. 're making my ass hurt." Dean wiggled around and tried finding a more comfortable position.
"Really, Dean? Showing up to rekindle a romance that never started and your first move is to insult my body? Rude. However, I'm not sorry about hurting your ass. Actually, I hope that's a reoccurring circumstance," Castiel said stoically, a little too stoically for having just mentioned sex a few second earlier.
"Cas, you're such a weird little guy. How can the same guy who almost cried from being shoved casually mention...you know...that?"
"You won't even say the word 'sex' and you're suggesting that I am the strange one. That seems extremely hypocritical, Dean." Castiel's arms snaked their way around Dean's waist and pulled him further into his own body. Dean did not even bother moving away or resisting; he had spent too many restless nights praying for this exact thing.
"Shut up, dude. Let me have my mini gay freak-out and cuddle my toothpick."
"Or what?" Castiel chuckled, his chest vibrating against Dean's side and his arms tightening around Dean's stomach.
"Hmm...oh, I know! Cuddle me or...I'll use the name."
"Go ahead. It doesn't bother me anymore. I said so in my note. You took far too long to read it but surely you comprehended some of it."
"Sure I did...Dmi-" Castiel's arms tightened to a vice grip, cutting off Dean's next syllable.
"I have changed my mind. That name makes my skin crawl. 'Castiel' is quite alright, if you don't mind. Besides, calling me 'Cas' some more will probably end in cuddling, just so you know."
"Good to know, Cas. Now, do you wanna order some food and talk?"
"Absolutely." Castiel pulled his phone out and called the pizza place in town. How he already knew Dean's favorite kind of pizza is beyond Dean's understanding but appreciated none the less. A slight hiccup in the night was reached when the pizza man made a disgusted face at Castiel's appearance but after a threat, or a promise rather, from Dean, it was quickly solved. The rest of the night was filled with food, heavy and light conversation, countless tears, and, of course, plenty of exhausted cuddling.