Unworthy

A 'Supernatural' Fanfic

Dean/Castiel

Dean wasn't gay. He never had been. He liked girls. A LOT. And they liked him. It was never difficult to find some cute young thing willing to come back to his motel room. Every once in a while, he even managed to net two at a time. Yup, Dean was definitely straight as an arrow. Well, there had been that one time in Memphis when he was eighteen... But that didn't count. A blowjob is a blowjob, right? It's not as if he had done anything else. That didn't make him gay, did it?

No, Dean decided, focusing his attention back on the gun he had been cleaning. Dean loved women, especially pretty ones. Dean was very appreciative of beauty. And women were just gorgeous. Soft skin, long hair, all those curves, the little noises they made when Dean kissed his way down their neck. Yup, Dean loved girls. Sure, every once in a great while an extremely good-looking guy caught Dean's eye, but it was extremely rare and he never acted on it. He was simply very aware of beauty, even if now and again it was embodied in a male form. But he vastly preferred women. There was not one part of the female anatomy that he didn't love. So he had to be straight.

But then why couldn't he stop thinking about Castiel? No, obsessing over was a better way to put it. Dean had to admit (only to himself and never, ever out loud) that he had been attracted to Cas ever since the angel had dragged him out of Hell. But ever since Cas had rebelled, the hunter had difficult time keeping the rebel angel out of his thoughts.

And Cas was spending more and more time with the Winchesters. The angel was used to the constant presence of the Heavenly Host. Earth, in comparison, seemed a alien wasteland, and one with strange customs that he could not hope to understand. He began to pop in randomly, and the Winchesters had accepted his near-constant presence with quiet understanding.

Dean still found him unfathomable at times. The depths in those brilliant blue eyes were staggering. And the angel looked at him, like he was the most important person in the world. Which, if he really was supposed to save the world, he supposed he was. For all the good it had done. He had failed to stop Lucifer's rising, failing to live up to the angel's faith in him. And yet, Castiel still looked at him with with such hope, with that almost adoring expression. A small part of Dean wished that Cas was looking at him like that for a different reason. He would deny it, of course. He denied even to himself, most of the time.

Still, those fathomless blue eyes stirred something deep in Dean's soul. He felt stripped before them, as if the most secret parts of his soul were laid bare before the angel. It made the hunter extremely uncomfortable. Especially considering all the naughty thoughts that ran through Dean's head whenever the angel appeared.

There was just this aura about him, an almost tangible force that pulled Dean to him. Maybe it was just an angel thing, Dean mused. Even when Anna had been human, she had possessed an ethereal air, a power that drew you to her like a moth to a flame. Her aura only became stronger when regained her memories. Even without her Grace.

Castiel's effect on Dean was so, so much stronger than Anna's had ever been. His Grace was expansive, even after rebelling. If you stood too close to him for too long, it was almost as if his Grace reached out and enveloped you in this warm, pleasant field. It kinda tingled, actually. The angel's total lack of respect for the 'personal bubble' concept did NOT help matters.

Cas's presence was intoxicating in so many ways. Lately, he kept finding himself watching the shorter man's lips move while he talked. He had to concentrate to actually listen to what he was saying, else all he could hear was his own blood pumping through his veins. Cas was increasingly becoming a distraction, and in Dean's line of work distractions could get you killed.

When he was thinking clearly, Dean felt guilt over his desire. Castiel was an angel, he was pure. Dean could only be a corrupting influence. Dean was anything but pure. Castiel trusted him implicitly. Dean could see the devotion in his eyes, and it terrified him. He would only fail the angel. Castiel had lost his faith in Heaven' plan for Armageddon and rebelled at Dean's urging. Dean Winchester was a poor replacement for God.

Secretly lusting after the angel was one thing. It was benign, it didn't hurt anything. What scared the living bejesus out of Dean was the idea that Castiel might return his feelings. As much as Dean ached to touch Castiel, he wouldn't. Doing so would destroy the very thing that attracted him to the angel: his innocence. He didn't have the right.

Who was he, anyway? What did Dean have to offer him? Castiel was strong, pure, clean. Dean was weak, desperate, needy. His soul was tarnished beyond repair. Dean didn't ever want to see the Light inside of Castiel diminished. And he couldn't bear to be the cause of it. Dean was damned. He was sure that when the war was over, he would be right back in the pit. He deserved it. How could Cas ever love him? Dean was totally unworthy. Even if he did, for some insane reason, have feelings for him, Dean would only drag him down. All Dean did was let down the people he loved.

That's why when Cas actually asked him, Dean turned away from the angel's earnest, questioning face. Because if Dean had been looking into those bottomless blue eyes, he never could have lied.