Twist and shout

“Balthazar,” Cas sighed, taking his hand, and Balthazar kissed that too, looking down at Cas with startled eyes. Dean knew that look as well - he made it every time he came into Cas’ room. It was the one that still couldn’t believe what it was seeing.

“Hello, love,” he said softly, still stroking Cas’ hand. Dean sank down into his chair again, watching closely as the two interacted. “I brought you a deck of cards.” His eyes slid to Dean as he extracted them from his pocket, pressing them into Cas’ palm. “Did Cassy tell you he’s got an incredible poker face?”

“Balthazar…please…” Cas insisted, his voice only a fraction tighter than it usually was. Dean narrowed his eyes at Balthazar and Balthazar tossed his head indignantly, rubbing Cas’ arm.

“What? Am I not allowed to be angry with him? After all he’s done?”

Dean’s face flushed with shame and Cas glared, pulling his hand away from Balthazar’s, clutching the cards to himself.

“Enough,” he whispered, and Balthazar snapped back to him, his body sagging with apology.

“I’m sorry,” Balthazar rushed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

Cas patted his hand and Balthazar met eyes with Dean again, obviously surprised by his silence.

“If you have anything you want to say to me,” Dean began, “you can say it to me.”

“Dean,” Cas scolded. “…the two of you…honestly.”

“I’m serious. You won’t. If he will, then I want to hear it.”

Balthazar’s mouth was about to open, when Tessa rapped on the door.

“Oh, wow, full house today!” she exclaimed and Cas’ relief was nearly palpable. Dean saw she was carrying a small tub and stood, moving to get out of her way.

“Bath time,” Cas said to Balthazar and Balthazar walked to the door, Dean staring at him.

“Perhaps I can take you to lunch?” Balthazar asked and Dean glanced at Cas. He nodded, eyes closed, body limp as Tessa helped to remove his sweater, leaning him forward gently.

Dean sighed, turning back to the British man.

“Sure,” he shrugged, following him out into the hall.

They walked in silence to the elevator, but when they waited there, Dean could feel the appraising stare.

“You are very good looking,” Balthazar began, “but you look like you haven’t eaten an actual meal in days.”

“That’d be because I haven’t,” Dean said shortly. “I’ve been here for almost a week.” He eyed Balthazar in the break between speaking. “I don’t plan on going anywhere either.”

Balthazar said nothing, pressing the button again nervously, his hand in his pocket rattling what sounded like keys.