35. Doubts

(Please tell me you’re not being creepy and watching me sleep.)

Castiel has his chin in his hands, elbows on the bed. He tilts his head and probes curiously at the dissipating sleep fog around Dean’s mind. (Did I wake you?)

(The alarm woke me.) Dean withdraws his hand from under the pillow, the phone held loosely in his fingers. It vibrates in intervals until he turns it off and puts it away again.

He yawns and Castiel dims his glow so it doesn’t hurt Dean’s eyes when he opens them. Castiel sits up and gets the spray bottles from the corner of the bed while Dean stretches and mumbles as he wakes himself up.  Dean sits up slowly, scratching at the red marks littering his chest. He brightens his glow slowly, a little bit at a time, and smiles at the marks as he gives Dean one of the spray bottles.

Castiel had managed to leave several new ones last night after Dean was done brushing his teeth and before they’d been interrupted. According to the female who knocked at the door, the other bathroom was ‘out of order’ all evening and no one was allowed to tie up the other one. Which meant that no one was allowed to take showers last night. While Dean had taken Castiel back to their room, he’d been grumbling about how it would have been nice if someone had told them that and he’d apologized several times to Castiel for not be able to have their promised alone time.

(How come you’re awake, Cas?) Dean moves to sit behind him so he can work on spraying down his side and back-fans.

He curls his tail in front of him and starts spraying his scales. (I haven’t been awake long. Just a little while before you, actually. I was waiting to fall back to sleep.)

(Why? Bad dreams?) Dean’s fingers guide Castiel to tilt his head and flare his fans as necessary. (Or is it because we weren’t able to finish what we started earlier? If you hadn’t shot down the storage closet idea, we could have –)

(I told you, it would have been uncomfortable for the both of us.)

(Dude, you’ve been blue balling since yesterday morning.) Dean pushes at his shoulders to make him lean forward and give his back-fans the room to spread. (It’s not good to hold it In, you know.)

Castiel  shrugs as he rubs water into his adipose fins. (I’m used to not doing anything. And there’s always tomorrow. Will the other bathroom be fixed?)

(Maybe. Depends if Bobby is the one who takes care of it.) Dean starts working water into his back-fans and Castiel is well aware of how he’s being very attentive to where the webbing joins his back. It’s sending shivers under his skin and makes it hard to focus. (If not, I could say that I’ll take care of it and then we can lock ourselves inside there for an hour. )

(I won’t make it until then if you insist on touching me like that.) Castiel flicks his back-fans to knock Dean’s hands away.

All that gets him is Dean forcing them flat and pressing his mouth to the back of Castiel’s neck. (Well, if you can’t hold out until then, I could always take care of you right now.)

(Dean. The others are –)

(Sleeping. And I’m still pissed at Sammy.)

Castiel turns and Dean presses kisses along his shoulder. (Are you suggesting that we have sex in the same room as the others just to get back at Sam for whatever it was that he said that upset you earlier?)

(That’s one way of putting it.) Dean puts his lips and tongue to the webbing of his back-fans. (You’re not the only one who got cut off at the balls last night. C’mon, Cas. We’ll have to be quiet. Don’t want to wake them up, do we? Do you think you can keep quiet while I’m touching you?)

He slides his hands along Castiel’s side, nails raking over his glow. His tail uncurls sharply, whipping across the bed as his back arches and a small gasp leaves him. Dean grins against his back and his hands dance over Castiel’s hips and along his stomach. Castiel’s spraying stutters, and he drops the spray-bottle when Dean’s fingers travel up his chest and tease at his nipples.

The whole time, Dean sucks and licks at his back-fans. Castiel grabs Dean’s knees, his legs on either side of his tail. He holds them tightly, trying to find a balance between giving Dean the room to lick along his back-fans and leaning into his stroking, pawing, pinching hands. His breathing turns ragged when one hand drops to rub at his sheath, Dean’s thumb pressed firmly against the slit.

Dean’s teeth dig into the back of his neck and the sound Castiel makes is smothered by Dean’s hand. (Quiet, Cas. I said quiet.)

(It is very hard when you keep touching me.)

(That’s the whole point. If we’re not careful, we could be caught at any moment.) Dean grins into his skin and a thrill spirals through the kin-connection, soaked with warmth and desire.

He coaxes Castiel’s penis out of his sheath slowly, dragging his fingers along every new inch that slides out. Dean runs his thumb over the bumps and his mouth moves to Castiel’s side-fan. Sitting like this means Castiel can’t touch Dean and he can feel Dean’s erection pressing against his scales. His groans are muffled under Dean’s fingers as he teases and strokes.

Castiel pushes various images and suggestions into the kin-connection, trying to convince Dean to move, to change how they’re sitting so he can touch. He wants to pull the same muffled sounds from Dean’s throat. He wants to put his mouth to Dean’s skin and taste the tang it takes when Dean gets excited. He wants to kiss Dean.

He refuses. If Castiel tries to turn Dean just presses closer against his back to hold him in place. There’s heat burning against Castiel’s back and searing under his skin, swirling through his stomach and under his scales. Not once does Dean move his hand from Castiel’s mouth, his thumb pressed along the side of his nose. His hips keep rocking, pushing into Dean’s hand and back against his erection.

Dean doesn’t let go, doesn’t stop, until Castiel’s head tips back against Dean’s shoulder. His blunt nails are longer now, but they haven’t become pointed, he hasn’t sharpened them yet. Castiel digs them into Dean’s leg when he orgasms, tail moving across the bed in sporadic arcs and pushing the blankets out of reach. He folds forward, gasping for breath as Dean lets go. His head is ringing with the white noise that fills it and he barely notices the shuffling behind him.

A hand on his chest pulls him back against Dean’s front and the no-sleeve white shirt that Dean had been wearing is rubbed over his stomach and scales, cleaning away his release. Castiel is loose limbed and barely aware of what’s going on. He was sleepy to start with and now he can barely keep his eyes open. But he needs to. Dean hasn’t been taken care of yet.

(Don’t you worry about doing anything for me, Cas.) Dean presses kisses over Castiel’s gills as he rolls them. (You just lay here and be your gorgeous self.)

Castiel hums quietly into the pillow, curling his fingers in the sheets as Dean’s weight settles partway down his tail and he starts thrusting in earnest against the swell of his tail. He covers the back of Castiel’s neck in gentle and sucking kisses. His hands find Castiel’s, fingers curling over his and pressing in on the webbing. He’s breathing heavily against the back of Castiel’s neck and across his shoulders. But Dean is almost too quiet, rocking only enough to get the movement he needs and not make the bed squeak. Castiel likes it better when he can hear all the noises Dean makes.

(Hey, hey, Cas, turn here.) Dean pulls him up, turns his head to the side with a hand cupping his jaw and Castiel’s sound of surprise is lost to the lips that slant over his own. It’s a messy kiss that Castiel can hardly breathe through but it starts to stir heat in his belly again.

Dean pulls away eventually and Castiel drops back to the pillow, muffling his labored breathing with the pillow. He feels Dean lift up behind him and he’s not sure what’s happening until something too warm hits his scales and the small of his back. Dean sighs softly behind him and Castiel twists, looking over his shoulder to watch him use the no-sleeves shirt to clean his back.

(Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done that.) He gives an apologetic grin that cracks around a yawn and he throws the shirt to the end of the bed. (You can go back to sleep now. I’ll finish spraying you down.)

(That’s wouldn’t be fair for you.) Castiel leans on one elbow and starts groping blindly for one of the spray-bottles.

Dean presses a kiss to the back of Castiel’s head as he pulls his hand back and pushes it against the pillow. (Dude, I can feel how sleepy you are. Let me do it.)

Castiel tries to object but Dean continues to brush off everything he says as he works water into Castiel’s scales. It’s a rhythmic touch and Castiel is asleep before Dean finishes. He doesn’t wake up until there are sharp voices muffled through the curtain.  

“Dean, if you would just –”

“Listen? I am listening, Sam.”

“No, you’re not! We don’t even know if he can breathe in fresh water. You really think Cas is going to be okay with never getting to swim again?”

“And I told you that we’re gonna figure it out!”

Castiel sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He knows the voices, but the words are rushed and hard to understand. He can only pick out a few of them that he knows and none of it makes any sense to him. He can feel Dean through the kin-connection, but the walls are between them again.

“Figure out what, Dean? How you’re going to keep him a secret from every neighbor or visitor you have? How is how he’s going to live with you any different than how he would have lived with Lilith?”

“Oh, so now I’m no better than her?”

“That’s not what we’re saying, Dean. Would you just –”

“Sam and me, we went over all of this yesterday, Jess. I’m happy – Cas is happy – we both want this. Why can’t you two just leave it the fuck alone?”

“And we’re happy that you’re happy. We really are, Dean. It’s great seeing you – the both of you – happy after all the shit that everyone went through with Lilith. But we just want you to understand and think first. What if Cas misses his family too much? What if you two fight?”

“Sam –”

“What if this isn’t forever and you break up? Castiel can’t just leave. Everything that he’ll have is you. I hate having to be the voice of reason for this, Dean, but it needs to be said. You need to talk to him – Goddammit, Dean! Don’t turn away from me!”

“Shut up, Sam.Cas is awake.”

Silence falls on the other side of the curtain moments before it’s pulled open and the walls around Dean’s mind shift. They drop in places and grow tighter in others. Dean is smiling when Castiel looks up at him, but the smile is forced. Even Sam’s and Jess’s look strained. They’re all trying to pretend they weren’t almost shouting at each other and Castiel doesn’t like that.

(G’morning, sleepy-head. Ready for breakfast?)

(You were fighting.)

Dean’s smile slips and he glances back at Sam. (Yeah, well. Brothers fight. It happens and it’s nothing to worry about.)

(I heard my name. And Lilith’s. What were you fighting about?)

“Shit.” Dean mutters, and he runs a hand over his face. (It’s the same as yesterday, Cas. Just – it’s between me and Sammy. It’s a brother thing again, okay?)

(No. Not okay.) Castiel grabs his wrist to keep him from pulling away. (I want to know what’s going on. If you won’t tell me, then I’m going to ask Sam. If Sam won’t tell me, I’ll ask Jess. Or Meg, or Bobby, or Benny, or anyone else who might know what  is going on. And if that doesn’t work, I will take the information that I want.)

Dean jerks his hand free and glares at him. Castiel matches his hard stare. This is not what he wanted to wake up to this morning and he hates being left out of things. He made an exception yesterday because it was a secret between brothers. But today they were talking loud enough for anyone to have heard – including Meg, who is still in her bed if the closed curtain is anything to go by. And Jess is sitting right there. She was even participating in part of the fight that he had heard. Everyone knows except for him and Castiel won’t allow for it anymore.

(I thought you said that was against your code? That you don’t fuck with other people’s minds just because you can?)

(It is. And I’ve broken that rule enough times already because of you, Dean. What’s one more time?) Castiel reaches for him again. (Tell me. Please?)

His hand drops to his lap when Dean severs the kin-connection. He says Dean’s name once, quiet and hurt, but Dean ignores it. Dean ignores Sam’s curious look and the second time that Castiel calls his name when he stands and leaves the room. Castiel flinches as he slams the door behind him. Sam looks to Castiel expectantly, curiously.

He hasn’t made the kin-connection with anyone else besides Dean since the day the x-rays were taken. Once Castiel makes the link with Sam, it takes him a few moments to adjust to the different way of speaking, of thinking. With Dean, the thoughts, emotions, translations - they’re all seamless. They flow so easily because they’re so used to speaking to one another. With Sam it’s – well, Sam isn’t particularly bad at it. He’s just had much less practice.

That’s Castiel’s fault, and it was rather rude of him. He could have had the kin-connection with everyone all the time and relieved Dean of having to translate everything and speak for him. Castiel isn’t sure if it was laziness or selfishness or something worse that made him think like that. He doesn’t know if he wants to know the answer to that.

(What did you say to him?) Sam asks, leaning his elbows on his knees.

Castiel looks toward the door, adipose fins rippling uneasily. He made Dean mad and having Dean upset with him has his stomach twisting and his chest aching. (I wanted to know what you were all fighting about.)

“Well thanks for confirming that he really didn’t talk to you about anything yesterday.” Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Castiel replays the memory of only minutes ago for him and Sam winces. “Yeah, threatening Dean doesn’t usually work all that well.”

(He’s left me out of too many things. I understood that all of those were for good reason. And I can understand a secret between brothers. But Jess and Meg and whoever else overhead it –) Castiel gestures sharply at the door to make his point. (- knows what you were saying and I am tired of being left out, Sam. What are you fighting about? What does Lilith, what do I, have to do with it?)

Sam hesitates. He looks over his shoulder at Jess. “I don’t know if I should tell you. That’ll probably just piss Dean off more. It’s really not our place to talk to you about it.”

(But it’s your place to talk to Dean about it?) Castiel doesn’t bother hiding his upset, his frustration with everything.

(I’m his brother. It’s my job to step up and remind him about the things he might be forgetting or hasn’t thought about yet.)

(And what about Jess? Or Meg? They’re not Dean’s family.)

Sam rubs a hand over his face and Castiel can see the similarities between the brothers in the gesture. And he can see – feel – the irritation. (Jess is family. We couldn’t help that Meg overheard. But she’s thinking the same as we are. Everyone is. It’s only you and Dean who aren’t seeing the whole picture because you’re too wrapped up in each other.)

Castiel bares his teeth and barely suppresses a snarl. (What’s that supposed to mean?)

(I shouldn’t be the one talking to you about this.)

He slams his hands down on the bed and his tail beats against the floor where it’s hanging over the edge. (Why do none of you ever tell me anything?)

“It’s something that you and Dean need to discuss. Not you and me.”Sam sighs and sits back, running his hand through his hair again.

Jess lays a hand on his shoulder and smiles at Castiel sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Castiel.”

He snarls again and looks away in disgust. Castiel is annoyed, he’s angry and upset and he should just reach into Sam’s memories and find the ones that would explain all of this to him. What Sam means, what he and Dean spoke about, everything. He could, but he won’t.

(Are you hungry?) Sam offers quietly. (Ellen has a filet for you.)

(No. I don’t want to be here right now.) Castiel slips to the floor and grabs his belt. He buckles it on and starts push-pulling himself to the door. (I’m going to swim until the rest of you stop being – stop being such –) He pauses and digs through the knowledge he has of the words that humans use. (- until you stop being such assbutts.)

Surprise flickers along the kin-connection. “… Assbutt?” Sam says it curiously and he glances at Jess once before he stands.

Castiel hisses at him and Sam hesitates, dropping to sit again. He push-pulls himself to the door and sits on the curl of his tail to turn the handle and open it. The hallway has a few people in it but Castiel ignores them, ignores the strain it is on his arms to move the short distance to the outside door and open it too, ignores how his scales catch on the deck as he slides to the railing.

He’s on the swim-deck when he hears footsteps and voices. Castiel looks over his shoulder and Dean is stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Jo right behind him. Dean looks surprised to see Castiel sitting outside the room. He has a tray in his hands and something sharp twists behind Castiel’s sternum when he realizes that it’s his breakfast, that Dean went and got it for him even though they’re both angry.

Logically, he should wait. He should sit here and let Dean bring him the food and see if Dean is going to apologize or if he should be the one to express his regret at threatening to violate the kin-connection in such a horrible way. He would never actually abuse Dean’s trust like that.

Castiel can feel the spray from the waves on his scales, but he hesitates from rolling over the edge. He cautiously reaches for Dean’s mind and when he touches it, Dean accepts the kin-connection without reservation. But there are more walls around his mind again. They hide the warmth he wants to feel. They hide everything but what little he needs to communicate.

(What are you doing?) Dean asks as he takes another step down the stairs.

Even though Dean’s emotions are blocked from him, Castiel is still sharing his and he lets all his anger and frustration pour against the walls. (I’m going to swim.)

(I got your breakfast.)

(Are you going to tell me what I want to know?)

Dean licks his lips and looks away. It’s all the answer that Castiel needs and he cuts the kin-connection again. He dives from the swim-deck, rolling away as soon as he hits the water. Castiel takes a moment to orient himself and he follows after the boat soon. Dean is standing at the edge of the deck and Castiel angles deeper so he won’t be able to see him. It’s spiteful and childish, but he wants Dean to worry.

Castiel swims the whole day and he thinks about the words he heard Sam and Dean say. He tries to remember if he knows their meanings and tries to piece them together into anything coherent. None of it makes any sense to him and it just makes Castiel more angry. Something heavy settles in his chest every time he checks the surface. He hasn’t seen Dean on the deck since he dove off the boat.

When Castiel hunts his lunch and supper, he is too vicious in how he catches the fish and eats them. He tears into them and almost wishes that his meal will attract a shark or two. Castiel wants to fight, he wants to get rid of all this rage.

He wants to be with Dean. He’s willing to give up everything to stay with him but Dean still keeps things from him. Castiel has nothing to hide from Dean and he wishes he would be just as open with him. It hurts that with everything Castiel is choosing to leave behind so he can keep all this that Dean isn’t doing much else. He knows that Dean had originally wanted to be the one to stay with him instead, but that doesn’t mean that Dean should be excused from keeping more secrets from him.

Especially when the secrets are big enough to bring Dean to fight with everyone that he knows.

Castiel actually ends up swimming past the boat for quite a distance before he realizes that it stopped. He doubles back slowly, approaching from directly below and he hesitates. It’s usually Dean who has Benny stop the boat so Castiel can get on. But he’s still so angry, so hurt right now that he’s not sure if he wants to.

And he’s not pleased with how he and Dean had been happy for only one day before something else came along and ruined it. It’s not fair. Why did this have to happen now?  Why did it have to happen at all? Why aren’t they allowed to just be happy for once?

He circles under the boat, swimming in lazy loops until he can bring himself to see who might be on the deck. The anchor drops and he dodges out of the way, following it down until he hears another splash. Castiel glances up and all his fans and fins flare in surprise. He recognizes the  legs and back before he does the swim shorts and blue sleeve.

Dean is treading water, his head above the waves. Castiel spirals up around the anchor and watches as Dean dives. He doesn’t go down very far until he stops and starts looking around, turning slowly. As soon as he sees Castiel , tail curled around the anchor’s chain to hold him in place, Dean goes back to the surface to breathe.

Castiel crosses his arms over his chest and watches. Every time Dean dives, he faces him and just floats. He doesn’t seem to notice that Castiel is glaring at him, and that might be because Dean doesn’t see as clearly in the water as he does. Either way, Dean doesn’t do anything else and Castiel finds himself making the clicking-pops of his echoes to make sure that nothing is nearby, that nothing might try to sneak up on Dean and hurt him.

He doesn’t count how many times Dean goes up to breathe and comes back down, but it’s quite a while later  - late enough for the sea to be growing dark as bright-pearl leaves steady-blue – that Castiel finally reaches for his mind. Dean is up breathing at that time and Castiel sees how his body stiffens when the kin-connection slides into place.

(You’re going to get cold.)

(I’m already cold. Would you just get your ass over here already?)

(No.) Castiel  bares his fangs and looks away, pushing all his anger and hurt into their link. (I don’t want to go back on the boat. Not if I’m going to continue to be left out of everything. I could understand when my knowing put the entire escape plan at risk. I could under the surprise that you were making. I could understand when it was a secret between brothers, but when you’re not keeping that secret from others and it’s only me, I don’t understand that at all.)

He turns his back to Dean, curling his fingers in the chain. (I’m going to sleep in the deeps tonight, and for as many nights as it takes you to realize that.)

The walls around Dean’s mind tremble and Castiel doesn’t know why. Is he surprised? Upset? Is he still mad with Castiel for everything that had happened this morning? Why is he even swimming in the first place? Dean had told him that he wouldn’t be able to swim with him without the diving gear. Castiel makes sure that he hides all the happiness he feels over having Dean in the water with him. 

Dean doesn’t answer. He doesn’t say anything until warm arms wrap around Castiel’s shoulders and his back-fans are forced flat in a hug. Dean’s cheek is pressed to the back of his neck and Castiel can feel the air escaping in bubbles from his mouth and nose.

(I fucking hate that I pissed you off while I was trying to keep all this shit with Sammy and the other from upsetting you. So, I guess… I’m sorry, Cas.) Dean presses a kiss to his shoulder and Castiel’s fans flicker, trying to push him away. He’s still angry and he’s not going to let Dean’s touches and his apologies distract him from that.

(You have to breathe. Go.)

There’s a frustrated grumble through the kin-connection and he can feel the waters shift as Dean swims away. He looks over his shoulder to watch him kick to the surface at the side of the boat. It’s not without a small amount of discontent that Castiel follows. If Dean insists on being close while they talk, it will be easier for him at the surface.

Castiel grabs Dean’s wrist and his back-fans break the waves as he drags him toward the back of the boat. He circles around his side and shoves Dean toward the swim-deck. (You’re shivering. Get out and get warm.)

Dean pushes his hands away and turns around. He’s bobbing in the swells and Castiel can feel the determination taking root in the kin-connection. (Nope. I’m not getting out until you’ve forgiven me.)

(If you’re looking for my forgiveness, using your well being against me is not the wisest of choices, Dean.) He hisses, side-fans flaring threateningly. (I’m not forgiving anything until I know what you’re hiding from me. And I’m not referring to that surprise you were preparing.)

(Cas – it’s –) Dean growls and slaps the water. Castiel’s annoyance doubles when he gets splashed. He moves away, trying to pretend he doesn’t notice how Dean reaches for him. (Fine. Cas, fucking fine.)

Dean turns around and climbs up onto the swim-deck. Castiel fights the urge to help him, instead staying back where he is. It wasn’t anger that had pulsed around Dean’s admission. It was resignation. From what he can tell, it seems like Dean is going to tell him and that’s the only thing keeping him from diving to the deeps now and cutting the kin-connection. He watches as Dean dries off with a towel and wraps it around his waist.

(Well, are you coming or not?)

(I told you, not until I know what’s wrong.)

Castiel can hear Dean’s muttered cursing from here. (Fine. Just, wait a sec.)

He stomps away to the inside of the boat and Castiel ducks under the waves long enough to chirp his echoes to check for threats.  Satisfied, he leans back and uses the rolling of his adipose fins and the back-forth sweep of his hands to keep him in place.

Dean returns within minutes, fully dressed and wrapped in a blanket. He sits at the railing with his legs tucked in the blanket and his arms crossed over the middle bar of the railing. Castiel doesn’t move from where he’s floating and Dean rests his forehead against the top bar.

(This whole… fight with Sam is about us – you and me. Everyone is happy that we’re happy. They think we deserve to be happy, but Sam is – he’s being Sam.) Dean’s shoulders hunch under the blanket and he’s silent for several moments. Castiel doesn’t say anything, only pressing encouragement into the kin-connection.

(Meg gave her two cents this morning when Sam and I woke her up with our little bitch fit.) Dean bunches the blanket up around his ears and Castiel can feel the pure anger swirling around every word. (She said that she doesn’t believe that you and me are actually feeling what we’re feeling. She said that the only things we’ve got going on is some sort of crazy co-dependence because you’ve made yourself believe that I’m the only thing that you could give you comfort back on Lilith’s ship and that’s just carrying over here. And she says that I’m just a needy affection whore.)

Castiel hisses and his tail whips sharply through the water, breaking the surface and upsetting his floating. He sinks sharply and rolls backward before he comes up again. Dean is radiating the same anger. As the walls around his mind drop more, Castiel catches the first little poisonous curls of doubt and they terrify him.

(Sam knows me better than that. He knows that I’m not… that what this is –) The warmth surges forward with his words and Castiel soaks it in. (- He knows that I don’t take it lightly. But he – he doesn’t think it’s a good idea that you come back with us.)

Surprise nearly makes him lose his float again. Castiel is too stunned to even know how he’s feeling. How could Sam say that if he knows how much Dean means to him? If he knows how much they need each other? Something tight curls in his chest and migrates into his throat. Castiel swallows around it and it hurts.

(Why would he say that?)  He asks it quietly, scared of the answer.

(Because I don’t have a home, Cas. I have the impala and sometimes I crash on Bobby’s couch. Mostly I sleep in motels or in whoever’s bed I happen to be sharing the night with.)

Castiel growls low in his throat, sinking until only his eyes are above the water. He doesn’t like Dean talking about that. (So we will stay at Bobby’s?)

(Bobby doesn’t have a pool and his bathtub is tiny at best. There won’t be any place for you to swim, Cas. We’ve got lakes, yeah, but they’re all freshwater and we don’t know if you can breathe in that.) Dean tilts his head and hides his face in his arms. (Taking a shower is a huge difference from going under and Sam’s worried that you’ll never get to swim again. That you’ll end up like Free Willy with the floppy dorsal fin or whatever, but it’s –)

He hesitates and Castiel hates the doubt that shivers along the walls before it gets hidden. Dean looks out at the ocean and runs a hand over his face. (I don’t have much saved up and I doubt we’re going to get the rest of the money Lilith was going to pay us. Even if I could afford a permanent place to stay, it wouldn’t be more than an apartment. You’d never be able to go outside without risking someone seeing you. And I – they’re right, Cas. I didn’t think about what we’re going to do when we get home. I can’t put you at risk like that.)

Castiel wants to drown the kin-connection in nothingness. He doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want Dean to say anything the shakes apart his convictions. This is the decision he made and he’s not going to let something like this throw doubt on everything he’s certain about. He loves Dean, he wants to be with Dean, and that means leaving his family. That means sacrificing everything to keep him.

He swims forward and Dean meets him on the swim-deck, blanket left over the railings. Dean pulls him up and sits back against the railings with his legs crossed under him, Castiel sitting in the cradle of them. Castiel wraps his tail around his waist and leans into Dean, arms around his shoulders and face pressed to his neck. Dean holds him just as tightly and the warmth fills all the spaces in between.

(If you think any of that is going to make me change my mind, Dean, you are very much wrong.) Castiel clutches at Dean’s shirt and mouths at his throat. (I made my decision. I want to stay with you and I am confident that we’ll be able to handle any obstacles we meet. You’re clever, Dean and we have the entire trip back to figure out what we’re going to do.)

Dean buries his face in Castiel’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything and it’s worrying. It makes Castiel’s stomach clench and he doesn’t understand the ache curling around his heart. Castiel sits back and cups Dean’s face, forces him to look up at him.

(I’ve made my decision, Dean. I’ve picked you – no matter what. I know that you want me, but the only way I can go with you is if you want me to.)

(I do, Cas. Jesus, you know that I do. But it’s – what if it’s not the right thing for you? What if you hate it? What if you end up hating me for taking you away from where you belong?) Dean’s fingers dig into his sides, squeezing tightly. (I won’t be able to take it, Cas. I can’t have you there and then lose you.)

Castiel leans in and kisses Dean softly. (As long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.)

He huffs a small laugh against Castiel’s mouth. (Do you even know how frikken cliché that sounds?)

(I can’t say that I do.)

Dean smiles again. It’s just something small and warm, but Castiel takes it for all that it is. They move to the other side of the railings and Dean pulls the blanket around them. Castiel wishes he could do something about the walls still wrapped around parts of Dean’s mind and the emotions that are hiding behind them. But the rest of Dean’s mind is clear and burning brightly with the warmth.

They sit on the deck and share gentle kisses and soft touches. Castiel tries to offer apologies for the things he said this morning, but Dean won’t hear it. He says there’s nothing to forgive and Castiel can only curl tighter around him in response.

(Did you eat enough while you were swimming? Ellen still has fish for you if you want a late night snack.)

(Thank you, but I ate plenty.) Castiel nudges his nose under Dean’s jaw. (Did you eat? Did you spend the day with Benny or Jo?)

Dean shifts under him and pulls the blanket around them tightly. (Not really and no. I was going to spend it with Benny, since he’s got a helluva stash and I was pissed enough to want to drink myself stupid. But Jess pulled her scary face and told Benny if he shares any of it with me he’s going to really regret it. Seriously, no one wants to mess with Jess when she pulls that face.)

(Is it so bad that you drink?)

(Sorta.) Dean looks away and out at the ocean. (When we had our last fight, I spent the entire time drunk and it’s coz’ Benny let me at his stash. I used to drink a lot before prison and I was better afterward, since – y’know – I didn’t have anything for four years. Jess and Sam just don’t want me to fall off the deep end again. It’s fine.)

(I’m not sure I understand.)

Dean is silent for a few moments. (Do you have a drink or a food or something down there that affects your brain and your inhibitions and shit?)

He thinks about it, going over everything that the colony consumes. (We constantly have water in our throat and lungs, so there’s not really anything that we drink. I haven’t had any myself, but I know that there are certain kinds of fish and plants that affect us. Balthazar has a fondness for this one kind of jellyfish that he gets particularly sarcastic and sassy after he eats it. And Gabriel is addicted to sweet snails.)

(Snails?) Dean crinkles his nose and sticks out his tongue. (That’s disgusting.)

(He eats at least a dozen a day and Anna tells him he’ll get fat, but he doesn’t stop.) Castiel smiles. A different kind of warmth, fond and familiar, fills him when he thinks about his family and he doesn’t bother hiding it from the kin-connection. (We thought he would have eaten through the population that lives on the colony walls by now, but he always has new ones. I’ve long suspected that he’s actually cultivating them somewhere.)

Dean’s laugh sounds forced and he smoothes a hand over Castiel’s hip in an absent kind of stroke. The walls around his mind get even tighter. (I don’t do so great with the in-laws. Do you think they’re going to want to meet me?)

Castiel tilts his head against Dean’s shoulder. (You mean, are they going to want to meet the one who’s taking me away from them again? Yes. I think they might. Lucifer might even try and fight you. But don’t worry, I won’t let anyone hurt you.)

(Yeah, I don’t doubt that. I remember what you were like the last time someone really hurt me.)

He pulses curiosity into the kin-connection and waits for the memories Dean provides of the day his arm was broken. Castiel doesn’t think he looks anymore terrifying that he usually does during a battle, but Dean insists that he looks ‘badass’. Dean presses quick kisses to his side-fan, grinning against the spines and webbing.

(Pretty sure if my arm hadn’t been broken then I would have had one hell of an inappropriate boner. Bet Alistair would have loved that.) Dean snorts and starts to laugh at the things he imagines into the kin-connection. (Oh shit, I can just picture Gordon’s face. He was so pissed when we were just kissing – can you imagine how he’d react if he found out what we do now?)

Castiel sits back, eyebrows raised and amusement dragging through the kin-connection. (I can’t say that I’d want to think about it.)

(Or really?) Dean tugs him back in for a teasing kiss. (What exactly don’t you want to think about?)

He readjusts how he’s sitting, unfolding from around Dean to sit on the curl of his tail between his legs . Castiel is sitting higher than Dean now and he leans into him with slow and sliding kisses. (I don’t like thinking about when you were hurt, when I wasn’t able to protect you. And I certainly don’t like thinking about the assbutts that did it all.)

Dean pulls away laughing. “Assbutts? Oh Jesus, who taught you that?”

(Is it not an adequate insult?)

He keeps laughing, doubling over until his forehead is touching Castiel’s clavicle and none of his thoughts make much, if any, sense. Dean is far too amused for Castiel’s liking. He waits through another few moments of laughter before he fists his hands in the front of Dean’s shirt. The laughing cuts off with a startled ‘umph’ as Castiel pulls him from the wall sharply and pushes him to the floor.

Castiel leans over him and spreads his fans. Bright-pearl is beyond the horizon now and steady-blue is speckled with the star lights. He brightens his natural glow as he curls his tail around Dean’s leg and presses heavily against him. Dean has another few chuckles, but they stutter out and die in his throat quickly when Castiel flares his fans and bares his teeth.

(No, Dean. Please, keep laughing at me.) He dips his head and nips at Dean’s bottom lip. (Do go on.)

Dean inhales sharply and Castiel licks at his mouth. There’s no more laughter. Just little shaking breaths and kisses interspaced with the drag of teeth. The touch of hands, fingers pulling across clothing and ocean-cooled skin or scales. The roll of bodies under the blanket and the press of knees on either side of his hips. 

Castiel tugs the blanket higher up his shoulders, trying to hide as much of Dean as he possibly can from anyone who might see him. To hide him from anyone who might see the flush across Dean’s nose or his hooded eyes. Or how he leans up to fix his mouth to Castiel’s gills and drag his nails along the edges of the webbing of his back-fans. Castiel has to try his hardest not to make any noises then.

He keeps his side-fans flared, angling them at every sound he hears that isn’t made by them. There are foot-steps on the deck above, but they don’t come down the stairs and he doesn’t hear the door move. There are no lights on the back of the boat – the only source is Castiel, the stars, and what little spills over from the upper deck.

Their movements are slow,  neither of them actively seeking physical release but rather simply enjoying the press of their bodies together. He can feel Dean’s erection pressing against his sheath and he is hard within his sheath, only holding it back so he doesn’t end up rubbing against the rough fabric of Dean’s clothing. Castiel’s hands stay fisted in Dean’s hair while he is propped up on his elbows. Dean’s hands are the ones that travel from Castiel’s hair and along his jaw, over his shoulders and back, to grip the swell of his tail and rub his thumbs along the seam of skin and scales.

When he does hear the door, they both stop. Castiel drops to tuck his head under Dean’s chin and they pretend that nothing more innocent than cuddling is happening.  Dean’s feet are hanging between the railing and he has to tilt his head all the way back to see who is standing in the doorway.

“Oh, you two made up again? How nice.” Meg tilts her head and she leans against the door frame. She has a big cup in her hands and she blows on it before taking a sip. “Jess got a hold of hot chocolate and she’s forcing a cup on everyone. If you’re done making out or whatever the hell you were doing, you can come have yours now.”

Castiel rests his chin on Dean’s chest. (What’s hot chocolate?)

(A hot, sweet drink.) Dean’s thumbs continue to rub. “Cas doesn’t like hot things, so he’s not going to be having any.”

“Surprise, surprise.” Meg rolls her eyes. “ She didn’t make one for him and got him a glass of water instead. We’re all going to bed after this and if you come in afterward we’re all going to be pissed.”

Castiel remembers what Dean said Meg had told him earlier and he flares his fans under the blanket, hissing and glaring at her. Meg raises her eyebrows before she shrugs and turns back into the boat, the door slamming shut behind her. He tilts his face into Dean’s neck and chews angrily at the collar of his shirt. Remembering what Dean told him is making Castiel agitated again, his adipose fins rippling wildly along his tail.

Dean laughs and runs a hand through Castiel’s hair. (It’s okay, Cas.)

(I don’t like what she said.) Castiel can feel the shirt start to fray under his teeth and he stops, turning away to press his cheek to the damp fabric.

(I know. But she’s wrong, so it doesn’t matter.) Dean presses a kiss to his forehead, but Castiel doesn’t take much comfort in the words. The walls around Dean’s mind are stronger, broader, than before. They hide so much that Castiel can’t tell if he’s lying or not.

He twitches his hips up and Castiel’s back- fans flare at the suggestive press of his erection against his sheath. (Now if they’re gonna be going to bed soon, we need to get done before we go in. They’ll flip their shit if I walk in sporting a boner.)