What Am I Doing With My Life
Destiel
I awoke when I heard a faint rustling coming from the foot of my bed. It sounded almost like...wings.
“Dean?” came a voice from the darkness.
Groggily, I opened my eyes. I shifted a half-empty beer bottle on the nightstand to better see the glaring red numbers on the clock.
“Dammit, Cas, it’s three in the morning,” I grumbled.
I saw the outline of his figure coming closer to my bed, though somewhat hesitantly. He stood quietly by my side, still only a shadow.
It took him a few moments, but he eventually spoke. “Can I... can I stay here tonight?”
His voice, usually so strong and sure, was wavering on the edge of desperation.
I sighed, my mind scrambling for an excuse to turn him down. It wasn’t as though I didn’t want him here... in my bed... with me. I shivered at the thought. Honestly, I missed those nights we’d spent together. Coming back home, bruised, bloodstained, and pushed to the breaking point, only to see him waiting for me, that understanding look in his crystal blue eyes. All those sleepless nights spent with him, unable to waste a precious second when he was here with me.
I slowly shook my head, more to scatter my thoughts than anything else. But I knew that Cas had seen, and I imagined his shoulders slumping, the pain in his eyes only present because he knew that I couldn’t see.
I tried to reason with him, with myself. “I have to focus on helping Sam now,” I said, remembering how badly things had ended the last time I’d put Cas before my brother. “He needs me.”
I heard the shuffling of feet, as though he was pacing. When he responded, it was barely a whisper. “But Dean,” he said, his voice raw. “I need you too.”
I knew he needed me. I knew it, and still I denied it every day. But somehow it was harder to lie in the dark, maybe because there were no reflections to mask the truth.
“Fine,” I muttered, my voice still hoarse from sleep. I grabbed a pillow from next to me and threw it at his chest, hearing a thump as he caught it with inhuman precision. “But the bed’s mine.”
We both understood that this wasn’t what he wanted, but he made no complaints as he laid down on the floor. My heart fluttered at the thought of him there, wrapped up in his trench coat, so close yet still so far.
Silence blanketed the air, uncomfortable and thick. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Why’re you here?” I asked, probably more sharply than I should’ve.
He shifted his position on the carpet. “Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled.
I waited for further explanation, but I got none. I knew Cas had quite a few demons in his head, and I wondered which had chased him here tonight.
“Goodnight, Dean,” he said, and I imagined him hugging his pillow.
I didn’t answer, trying to convince myself that this wasn’t really happening. We lapsed into another awkward quiet, which seemed to last forever. I closed my eyes, begging sleep to return. But my stomach was tied in knots, so rest was out of the question.
Cas must’ve though that I’d fallen asleep, because I heard him wordlessly stand from his spot on the floor. Then, nothing. I feared for a second that he might’ve disappeared as he so often did.
Then I felt the blankets being pulled back beside me, and a slight dip as Cas climbed into bed beside me. He maintained his space, careful not to touch me. I could feel him settling into the mattress. After a short time, he slowly inched himself closer to me. Tentatively, he rested his head on my shoulder. I could feel his warm breath on my neck, a sensation that I’d missed for so long.
His breathing eventually slowed, and I could tell that he’d drifted off to sleep.
“Goodnight, Cas,” I whispered, and I swear I saw him smile.
“Dean?” came a voice from the darkness.
Groggily, I opened my eyes. I shifted a half-empty beer bottle on the nightstand to better see the glaring red numbers on the clock.
“Dammit, Cas, it’s three in the morning,” I grumbled.
I saw the outline of his figure coming closer to my bed, though somewhat hesitantly. He stood quietly by my side, still only a shadow.
It took him a few moments, but he eventually spoke. “Can I... can I stay here tonight?”
His voice, usually so strong and sure, was wavering on the edge of desperation.
I sighed, my mind scrambling for an excuse to turn him down. It wasn’t as though I didn’t want him here... in my bed... with me. I shivered at the thought. Honestly, I missed those nights we’d spent together. Coming back home, bruised, bloodstained, and pushed to the breaking point, only to see him waiting for me, that understanding look in his crystal blue eyes. All those sleepless nights spent with him, unable to waste a precious second when he was here with me.
I slowly shook my head, more to scatter my thoughts than anything else. But I knew that Cas had seen, and I imagined his shoulders slumping, the pain in his eyes only present because he knew that I couldn’t see.
I tried to reason with him, with myself. “I have to focus on helping Sam now,” I said, remembering how badly things had ended the last time I’d put Cas before my brother. “He needs me.”
I heard the shuffling of feet, as though he was pacing. When he responded, it was barely a whisper. “But Dean,” he said, his voice raw. “I need you too.”
I knew he needed me. I knew it, and still I denied it every day. But somehow it was harder to lie in the dark, maybe because there were no reflections to mask the truth.
“Fine,” I muttered, my voice still hoarse from sleep. I grabbed a pillow from next to me and threw it at his chest, hearing a thump as he caught it with inhuman precision. “But the bed’s mine.”
We both understood that this wasn’t what he wanted, but he made no complaints as he laid down on the floor. My heart fluttered at the thought of him there, wrapped up in his trench coat, so close yet still so far.
Silence blanketed the air, uncomfortable and thick. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Why’re you here?” I asked, probably more sharply than I should’ve.
He shifted his position on the carpet. “Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled.
I waited for further explanation, but I got none. I knew Cas had quite a few demons in his head, and I wondered which had chased him here tonight.
“Goodnight, Dean,” he said, and I imagined him hugging his pillow.
I didn’t answer, trying to convince myself that this wasn’t really happening. We lapsed into another awkward quiet, which seemed to last forever. I closed my eyes, begging sleep to return. But my stomach was tied in knots, so rest was out of the question.
Cas must’ve though that I’d fallen asleep, because I heard him wordlessly stand from his spot on the floor. Then, nothing. I feared for a second that he might’ve disappeared as he so often did.
Then I felt the blankets being pulled back beside me, and a slight dip as Cas climbed into bed beside me. He maintained his space, careful not to touch me. I could feel him settling into the mattress. After a short time, he slowly inched himself closer to me. Tentatively, he rested his head on my shoulder. I could feel his warm breath on my neck, a sensation that I’d missed for so long.
His breathing eventually slowed, and I could tell that he’d drifted off to sleep.
“Goodnight, Cas,” I whispered, and I swear I saw him smile.