Archive of Our Own ^beta

"I can't believe I'm actually going to this thing," Dean says from the driver's seat, face cracked in half with a grin of excited anticipation. "I mean, a couple years ago, I was so deep in the closet that I might as well have had socks growing from my ears. Then, well…"

Dean looks over at him fondly, making Castiel realize he's referring to their relationship, their bond. They've been officially together since that winter when Castiel had gotten sick and unintentionally ruined one of their outings together, though according to Dean, they've been dating for much, much longer than that.

What he hadn't realized until recently is that this was a big step for Dean to take, since he had only come to terms with his bisexuality shortly after they'd met, apparently. Castiel, on the other hand, has known he wasn't exactly heterosexual since he was a teenager despite most of his family shunning him for it, so his all-encompassing crush on Dean from the very beginning wasn't exactly surprising.

Dean is very attractive, after all, in both body and spirit. His devotion to his family is what first drew Castiel in, after the initial bonus of Dean's appearance. Then the more he learned, the more he'd fallen in love with Dean until he spent nearly every waking minute thinking about him. Not that Castiel doesn't still think about his boyfriend constantly with things like pie and cars and burgers everywhere to remind him of Dean, but it had been pathetic before because they weren't officially dating before. Now, he's allowed to be as pathetic and in love as he wants, and he intends to do so, even if he knows he probably shouldn't for Dean's own sake.

He's not stupid. He knows he doesn't deserve Dean, but he can't help it, really. Still, the thought that Dean could do so much better follows him everywhere. A successful job as a mechanic, a lawyer for a little brother that he all but raised himself, an amazing personality with endless pools of kindness and devotion, an ability to lure people in from far and wide and befriend them… Dean is everything Castiel isn't, so it's only natural that he tries to make up for that in whatever way he can.

For that reason, he agreed to go to this year's Pride parade in the city, despite not liking crowds or people or lots of noise. Dean had been ecstatic, so Castiel only hopes he can avoid making any scenes, even as his unease with the whole idea grows with each minute they drive closer to the city. He's never gone to a Pride parade before, but based on what Gabriel has told him about his own experiences, Castiel's sure he's going to hate it. But for Dean, he'll try to endure, even if he can't quite manage to have an open mind.

The first clue as to just how busy this thing is going to be is the depressing lack of parking spaces, with every space in sight already taken beforehand. Dean normally has difficulty finding any he deems 'worthy' of temporarily housing his vehicle, as Castiel has observed many times on their dates, but Dean can't find a single space anywhere near the streets that the crowds of people are going to march.

The anxiety that had been steadily building in Castiel's chest gets worse with the realization that there will likely be people everywhere. As if sensing this, Dean reaches over to squeeze his hand, flashing a nervous smile of his own before circling the block for the fifth time. The smile makes the small bisexual flag painted onto both of Dean's cheeks stand out, and also reminds Castiel that he's not the only one that's nervous.

Neither of them have ever been to a Pride parade, after all. Neither of them are sure quite what to expect, but they'll at least be there together. Sam, Dean's brother, is meeting them there with his girlfriend, and Charlie has threatened to withhold their biweekly movie nights if they didn't attend, so at least they won't be entirely alone together.

There was a time where Castiel felt somewhat bitter towards Charlie, as guilty and horrible as he feels about that now. Dean and Charlie were roommates before, and he mistakenly thought they were dating. It's silly to think about now, as he now knows Charlie is a lesbian and he and Dean had apparently been going on dates for quite some time at that point, but he'd been undeniably jealous of Charlie before.

Any and all feelings of jealousy have since faded, of course, as he's realized they simply weren't warranted. And anyway, he and Dean live together now, which is more than he ever thought he'd have. For at least six months (plus however long Dean thought they were dating), he's had an incredible, loyal, kind, supportive boyfriend, and couldn't ask for anything more.

He just wishes he didn't have to go to Pride. But for Dean, he'll do it. Dean makes him brave, makes him want to try. The least he can do is try to reciprocate in some way.

"Okay, now we're cooking with fire," Dean mutters as he finally finds a spot, and Castiel smiles a little. "Still not worthy of my baby, but that guy in the parking garage was eyeing her up funny, probably hoping to get his grubby hands on her…" Dean turns to him after turning the vehicle off. "Ready to go, sunshine?"

He nods dumbly, swallowing, taking Dean's hand when it's offered to him after they step out. "How many people will be here?"

"Dunno. Charlie said there's usually a lot. But if it's too much, we can always leave. You just say the word. Capiche?"

He relaxes at that. "I…capiche."

The long walk to the parade is peaceful. The sun is a little warm for him to be wearing a trench coat, but he knows he's going to need all the comfort and familiarity he can get for this when even going to the grocery store is occasionally overwhelming. But for the moment, he can almost fool himself into thinking that this is just like any other walk on any other day, that they're simply going to enjoy each other's company or go to a restaurant together.

That illusion shatters the second they turn a corner and the parade comes into view. The first thing that snatches up his attention beyond the loud music is all the colors everywhere. Reds and blues and greens and yellows and pinks and purples and…if they weren't so bright, it might be nice to look at, but as is, it just makes his eyes sting and he looks away, though that isn't much better. Everywhere he looks, there are people, many in the too-bright colors and they're all moving and dancing and embracing and shifting and turning and smiling and moving and—

He squeezes Dean's hand tightly, and Dean squeezes back, slowing their pace to bump against his shoulder. "Doing okay?"

He bites his lip and forces himself to nod, though he voices aloud, barely audible over the music that's becoming louder the closer they get, "There are…a lot of people."

"This is important to a lot of people. They wanna be all united and stuff," Dean offers with a brief look of sympathy. "Let's find Charlie, huh?"

They pass by a multitude of tables displaying rainbow colored things ranging from pins to banners to flags to clothes to bumper stickers, each table brighter than the last. Many commercial businesses have set up stands to show the support they likely don't actually feel, lined with merchandise for things relating to the businesses themselves. The local hospital has an array of sex-related pamphlets discussing safe sex and STDs and all sorts of things that make Castiel's insides squirm uncomfortably.

Looking at the people is worse in many ways. Most of the people are wearing regular clothes, if far brighter than they otherwise would, but many are in strange outfits he's never seen before consisting only of straps or ropes or harnesses with nothing else on, some even dressed only in leather or chains that don't look very comfortable. He moves closer to Dean at the sight of a group of shirtless women with only x-shaped stickers covering the very ends of their breasts, feeling deeply uncomfortable.

Thankfully, they soon find Charlie, off to the side beside a stand that sells rainbow flower leis and boas, the music thankfully more quiet over here. She's holding hands with a woman Castiel doesn't recognize, with Charlie wearing a large lesbian flag as a cape and the woman beside her wearing pink, orange, and white striped sunglasses in the shape of hearts.

"Hey, Charlie," Dean greets, releasing his hand and making Castiel's muscles tense, even though he knows it's to accommodate Charlie's usual greeting.

"Hey, guys! Glad you could make it!" Charlie hugs Dean with a grin, but when she turns to him, he backs away, uncertain if he can handle being touched right now when he's already so on edge, despite usually loving hugs. The redhead doesn't seem to mind at least, grin never faltering as she turns back to Dean. "Dean, get some rainbows on that man! People will think he's your sad, straight friend that you pulled in by the elbow!"

Castiel freezes at that, glancing down at his too-big jeans and Led Zeppelin t-shirt—both of which he's borrowed from Dean's side of the closet—all covered by his trench coat. Dean's in jeans as well, but at least he has his blue, pink, and purple flannel on, rolled up at the sleeves, the soft colors making the bisexual flags on his face stand out a little more. Castiel didn't want to have anything painted onto his face, the mere thought of it enough to make his skin itch.

Should he have put more…color into his outfit? He was more focused on being comfortable, and this is how he usually dresses. Looking around, he clearly stands out in this crowd with his unremarkable color scheme, but does that mean people will assume he's straight, even while holding Dean's hand?

The thought shouldn't bother him, really. Any other time, it's easier for people to assume that, even if that view of him drops the second they see him with Dean, so why would he be upset by the idea that people might think that now?

"I'm not straight," Castiel says awkwardly, even though they all probably know that already.

"Yeah, that's what we have Sam for," Dean adds on, back at his side in an instant. "Speaking of which, where is the little bitch?"

"Last I heard, he's still stuck on the bus. That's what he gets for relying on public transportation." Charlie's face brightens. "Oh shoot, I forgot to say—this is Gilda. This is her first Pride parade too, so I took it upon myself to show her the ropes. Or, well, show her around. The ropes are for later." Dean makes a face at that, but Castiel just tips his head, feeling lost. "Gilda, this is Dean and Cas."

"It's nice to see so many people so happy to be who they are," Gilda says, looking around. "I'm glad to get the chance to experience it myself."

"Such a way with words," Charlie expresses with a sigh that makes Gilda smile and bite her lip. "Anyway, we're gonna go get front row seats to the parade. I hear the drag queens are coming up first. Later, bitches! Don't let the leather daddies bite! Or do, if that's your thing."

And just like that, Charlie's leaving again, and his eyes waste no time in focusing on the crowds of strangers again with their too-bright clothes and too-loud music until Dean takes his hand again and captures his attention, temporarily distracting him from his surroundings.

"Doing okay?" He nods again, because he…mostly is, and Dean nods. "Y'know, Charlie's kinda right. You could use a little more color in your palette right now."

Castiel grimaces. "Nothing…too bright?"

"How about a pin or two? Subtle, but there," Dean suggests, edging towards the nearest table with Pride pins, then pausing. "You don't have to, though. It's your choice, of course."

"I could…do a pin."

He approaches the display warily, eyes on the pins. He instinctively goes towards the more generic rainbow pin, but finds his hand hesitating over a different one. Black, grey, white, and purple stripes seem to stare up at him, taunting him, sitting there knowing he'll never pick it up.

"You like that one?" the woman at the stand asks. "That's the asexual pin. It represents people who don't feel sexual attraction. Of course, it's kind of a spectrum, as many things in the LGBT community are. Are you interested?"

Castiel's first thought is the dread of being on yet another spectrum before her question reaches his ears and he jerks his hand away as if it's been burned. "N-no!" He only looks for a second, but the sympathy in the woman's eyes is unmistakable and makes him flinch, grabbing a simple rainbow pin instead. "I…uh…"

"You can get more than one," she tells him, but he quickly shakes his head, aware of Dean's eyes on him and feeling uncomfortable in that knowledge for the first time. "All right, no problem. Enjoy the parade!"

He turns away and rapidly retreats with his new pin, but his hands are shaking too much to even open the pin to put it on. He feels himself sweating for a whole new reason than the crowds or the summer sun. When Dean's hands come in to help him, he chances a glance at the other man's face, but Dean just looks as patient and loving as ever.

"You, uh, you can get the other pin if you want it, Cas," Dean says quietly after a moment, putting the gay flag pin on the lapel of his coat. "Today's supposed to be all about expressing yourself and stuff, so if you want it…go wild, huh?"

"Dean, I…" He buries his face in his hands, ashamed and guilty. "I'm sorry. I-I should've told you—"

"Hey, no—Cas, you don't have to tell anybody anything if you don't want to," Dean interrupts firmly. "It's your life, buddy, and it's your call, y'know? You don't have to explain or feel bad or… Ah, geez, I'm not saying this very well, am I? All these months of dating and you still get me all tongue-tied and stupid, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," he says again, still feeling bad. "I didn't even realize until recently that I…didn't want to-to…"

"Cas, it's okay." Dean hands him a new pin now, and when he turns it over, the asexual flag stares back at him. "It doesn't change anything, buddy. You're still just Cas. And it's supposed to be…fun and stuff, but if we're not both having fun, then I want no part of it. Got it?"

He nods a little, eyes watery and only getting worse when Dean puts the second pin on his coat after asking for permission. "Got it."

Dean just nods and kisses his forehead, and Castiel smiles shyly, ducking his head. The woman in the stand looks almost proud in a way he's never seen directed at him before, not from a stranger, and he's not sure how to react, so he's glad when Dean leads him away.

It's a nice day to be outside, the temperature a little on the hot side but still pleasant enough. There's a slight breeze that makes all the colorful flags blow in a way that looks rather nice when he's focused on the sky instead of the crowds, even if that gets difficult the closer they get to other people.

Dean thankfully keeps them away from a majority of the crowds, likely sensing how quickly he could get overwhelmed, which Castiel is endlessly grateful for. He's not sure how he ever got such a kind, wonderful, understanding boyfriend who seems to know him so well…

Castiel feels altogether lighter at the thought, the feeling only heightened as he and Dean point out the poor attempts some of the corporations put into their Pride displays, only doing the bare minimum to pretend that they care, though it's quite obvious that any and all energy they put into their displays or support will disappear as soon as the month is over.

It's somewhat depressing how little these companies actually care, as it only serves to isolate the LGBT community further. They put up a front as long as it's relevant and push away from it the second it's not, forgetting that people don't stop being a certain orientation after the month is over, that that's a part of someone's identity and should be treated as such.

He supposes he should just ignore it like everyone else, but it…bothers him, and he's never been good at ignoring things that bother him. Unfortunately, this makes itself evident as the parade begins, the lightheartedness he'd had before from Dean's jokes quickly fading.

The noise somehow becomes louder, the colors brighter, all of Castiel's senses working in overdrive. He tries to focus on Dean, on his new pins, on his shoes—on anything but the parade in front of him, with all of its people and floats and loud music and bright colors and flashing lights and people in varying states of dress and the glitter and the people—

He squeezes his eyes shut and squeezes Dean's hand all at once, sweating bullets, suddenly not getting enough air. He bites down on his lip hard to try to keep from making a sound, trying desperately to stay quiet and keep from messing this up, but it's hopeless. Dean's attentiveness is usually a wonderful thing, but right now, it just means he picks up on Castiel's distress immediately.

"Cas?" Dean asks from two hundred feet away, drowned out by the crowd and the music and Castiel's own increasingly heavy breathing echoing in his ears. "Cas, hey…"

It takes him a minute to figure out that he's being moved, which he only realizes when he nearly trips over his own feet, breath coming out faster and faster and faster no matter how hard he tries to control it, useless as always. Dean's still holding his hand, which helps ground him, though part of him doesn't want to be touched, can't be touched, needs to be alone right now, but that'll hurt Dean and he doesn't want to hurt Dean can't hurt Dean not Dean Dean Dean—

He eventually wiggles his hand from Dean's, clamping his hands on the sides of his head over his ears, but he can still hear even with that and everything is still so loud why is it so loud? He can still hear the music blasting from nearby where the people with their bright colors and leather and nudity are still marching and—

And he should be happy. He should be happy because he's around people like him, people who are on at least one of the same spectrums as he is, people who understand and don't judge him behind his back—not for this, at least—and people who are happy to show who they are and what they believe in and it should be good. He should be happy.

But he's not. He's overwhelmed and exhausted and confused and it feels like his head is spinning around on the top of his spinal cord and he doesn't understand why he isn't happy. These people are like him, so why does he feel so miserable being here with them? It's just all too much too much noise and too bright and too loud and too many people too much too much too much—

"Hey, whoa, okay. You can't—"

Hands grab at his wrists, stopping them in their path to smack against his head, as if he could beat all the overwhelming sensations out of himself if he could just hit hard enough. Castiel grunts and jerks his hands from the hold and goes at it again, hitting harder and harder, but it doesn't work and the thoughts won't leave and everything's still just too much—

"…can't can't can't can't can't can't can't," he realizes he's muttering, which is both better and worse than frantic, ineffective breathing. With effort, he changes what he's saying, instead gasping out, "Dean."

"Right here, sweetheart," Dean says from somewhere nearby, and Castiel relaxes a little, struggling to come back to himself, hands hovering somewhere near his head in uncertainty, torn between hitting at his own head again or covering his ears—but if he covers his ears, then he can't hear Dean and what if Dean leaves he'd never even realize it— "Hey, you're okay, Cas, it's okay…"

He shakes his head rapidly, making his neck ache, but he hardly even acknowledges it over the sounds of his own breathing too fast too fast too fast he can't get in any air and and and…

And something is set into his frozen hands, making Castiel's thoughts pause for just a second as he struggles to process the thing he's holding that's proving to be a good distraction. His body shifts and squirms, disconnected from his mind and out of his control, but his attention is more on figuring out what he's holding than releasing any extra energy.

Car keys, he eventually realizes, fingertips dragging down the edge of the cold metal. Dean values his car so highly that the idea of him being so willing to hand off the keys just to calm Castiel down is…

He takes a few more steps away from where he knows Dean is, facing a wall and watching his own fingers fiddle with the car keys, knowing he must look strange, that he must look like a freak, but he's unable to do anything about it right now, instead just focusing on calming down.

It takes quite a while for all traces of panic to leave, for him to feel like he can appear normal again. Once his chest stops aching so much and his breathing and heart rate are within normal ranges again, he takes a few extra deep breaths, and that's when the guilt hits him. Must he ruin every date they have? First with his untimely sickness and now this—not to mention all the times in between. It's a wonder that they ever go on any dates at all with him around…

"Dean," he rasps out, mouth dry. Dean is at his side in an instant, though he still keeps some distance between them. Always so thoughtful… Voice more watery, he repeats, "Dean…"

"Right here, buddy," Dean assures him quietly, and Castiel swallows, turning to him and feeling even worse when he doesn't find any judgment or annoyance or…anything on Dean's face but concern and worry and… "Feeling any better?"

…and love.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he says guiltily, ignoring the question. "I…I didn't mean for this to happen. Now I ruined another date with this and—"

"Hey, whoa, what are you talking about?" Castiel opens his mouth, but his previously tentative words stop altogether, half-formed but stuck somewhere before they can escape, making him look away. "Can I touch you?"

He nods a little, and Dean gently takes his hand and squeezes it. After a moment, he squeezes back, looking away. "Maybe…maybe we can go back. Maybe I'll be okay if we can…if I…"

"Cas," Dean cuts in softly, "it's okay. We don't have to go back. I don't care about some parade—I care about you, dumbass, and you're upset about something that ain't even your fault. How am I supposed to enjoy something if you're not enjoying it too, huh?"

"Like…like sex."

Dean's eyebrows lift, but he nods. "Yeah, like sex. Kinda. But Cas—I didn't mean to twist your elbow or force you into this. I had no clue it'd be so…loud, even for my tastes, and you know how loud I listen to music. Then there's all the people…" With a head shake, Dean asks, "You know what I'm trying to say, don't you?"

"This was…supposed to be fun," he tries to summarize, and his boyfriend nods encouragingly. "But it wasn't. It was too much."

"And that's okay. This is, like…a learning experience and stuff, y'know? We're still figuring stuff out."

"Making it up as we go."

Dean smiles a little. "Yeah, exactly." The other man kisses his forehead and squeezes his hand again, saying, "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm starved. What sounds good to you?"

Castiel thinks about it for a minute. "Waffles. The cat-shaped ones you make at home, please."

His boyfriend's smile widens, ruffling his hair in a way that makes specks of glitter fall from it. "You got it, buddy. One of the best comfort foods, right behind pie and burgers. You wanna go now?"

"Yes…" He pauses, asking, "Should we tell Charlie we're leaving?"

"Ehh, she won't miss us. And Sammy's still stuck on the bus, so we're good to go when you are, sunshine."

He holds Dean's hand all the way to the Impala, listening to Dean complain about the worthiness of the parking space the entire way, feeling more and more relaxed the further they get from the parade and everything it entails. Despite this, his pins stay firmly in place, and he catches Dean smiling at them when he adjusts them after climbing into the passenger seat, making Castiel smile back shyly in embarrassment.

As they begin driving, Castiel says, "I'm glad to experience this with you, Dean, even if I didn't like the parade and I ruined the date."

"Parades are overrated," Dean replies with an easy grin that makes Castiel's heart feel lighter. "Besides, no date's ruined as long as we're both there." There's a pause before Dean adds, "Wow. I sound like such a sap. See what you do to me?"

"My apologies," he says, but he's not sorry at all and he's quite sure Dean can tell.

After all, how can Castiel be sorry when he has such a kind, understanding boyfriend willing to leave the parade (and a step to his acceptance of his sexuality) early to celebrate at home together instead?

(And no matter what Dean says, the cat-shaped waffles taste different, as if he can taste the love he knows Dean pours into everything he does, whether that be calming him down, helping him through a sickness, or anything in between.)

-

Castiel's heart feels like it's attempting to beat out of his ribcage, making him feel as if he'd just been called on to read aloud in class or to step ahead to talk to the individuals at the meat and cheese counter in the grocery store.

But this is different. This is something he's doing for himself, for Dean.

It's been nearly a month since they'd attended the Pride parade that had led to Castiel having a meltdown in the parking lot, entirely overwhelmed by…everything. It had been his first ever time going to something like that, but it had also been Dean's first Pride parade, as Dean had said he only recently accepted that part of himself.

Despite Dean's assurances about the event being less fun than he thought, Castiel still feels incredibly guilty about ending it early due to his own reactions. Dean deserves to dislike the parade for reasons other than because Castiel disliked it and couldn't handle it.

That's why he's decided that they should try again. He's not naive enough to believe that Dean will willingly attend when he first brings up the idea, not after what happened last time, so Castiel has come with a plan.

He's been researching ways to better handle loud and stressful situations, and he's found that headphones will muffle at least some of the noise, and his own music can drown out the rest. He has sunglasses if he needs them, and a few carefully selected stim toys to take his mind off of things if needed. All that's left to do is approach Dean, who's sitting on the couch watching Doctor Sexy, M.D., a show that Castiel fails to see the appeal of.

He walks up slowly, trying to determine how susceptible Dean is to new ideas as his boyfriend smiles and pats the spot next to him, pulling him close when Castiel sits down. "Hey, baby."

"Hello, Dean." He watches the side of Dean's face closely, and it's a testament to how often he does it that Dean just kisses his cheek and doesn't question it. "Dean. There's a final Pride parade taking place in two days."

"Okay, we'll stay in that day. Any specific snacks you want?" Dean wiggles his eyebrows, adding, "I dunno about you, but I'm thinking pie."

Castiel huffs out a slight laugh. "You're always thinking pie."

"Hey, I think about you a whole lot too. Like, an embarrassing amount. But maybe we could get a blueberry, raspberry, blackberry thing going on. Bi pie, y'know?"

He squints a little, but shakes his head, saying seriously, "I'd like to try to attend another parade."

Dean's eyebrows raise. "Uh…huh? Why?"

"The idea of Pride is to celebrate the progress that the LGBT community has made and to bring people of different sexual and gender orientation together, to show them that they're not alone. It's about acceptance and equality and togetherness, and the parade is supposed to showcase that, even if the meaning has been somewhat lost at some point."

The other man blinks at him, his mouth hanging open a little. "Yeah, you can say that again. Just a corporate weaseling campaign and an excuse to get naked in public."

"Still, it represents something that's…important, and it should be treated as such. Be the difference you would like to see in the world and hope that others will follow," Castiel explains, voice solemn. "I'd like to try to attend again. Can we go?"

"I mean…yeah, of course, if that's what you want," Dean replies slowly, shifting his position, the show seemingly forgotten. "Just…why do you wanna go again, Cas? You hated it the first time."

"I was overwhelmed the first time," he corrects, nodding. "I didn't know what to expect and was caught off guard. Now I know what to expect, so this time will be different. And I've come prepared."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. I've consulted with the Google and have come up with a few things that should help." He shoots upright and hurries out of the room, returning with the objects of his plan. "Headphones to block noise, and I've downloaded the songs from the mixtape you gave me onto my phone so that I can listen to them if need be. And I have things to mess with and sunglasses. I will not be overwhelmed again."

Dean picks through the items he'd brought, quiet for a moment. "Wow. You, uh, really thought this through, huh?"

"Yes. I can handle it now."

"And I believe you, Cas," Dean assures him, setting all the objects on the coffee table and muting the television. "It's just kinda out of the blue, y'know? You didn't like it at all before—and I'll admit, it was…a lot—and now you're coming in with all this stuff to help you go to another one? What's going on, buddy? Talk to me."

There's that phrase. 'Talk to me'. Whenever Dean says that, he can't help but do just that, feeling the need to open up to his boyfriend and longtime friend, even if he first leans forward to pick up one of the stim toys as he formulates his thoughts. Dean understands him well enough to give him time, which he greatly appreciates.

"That was both of our first experience with…anything like that," Castiel explains slowly. "Both the event itself and just…Pride, and everything it represents. Love, acceptance, freedom. And I…messed it up."

"Cas—"

"And I want to try again," he continues before Dean can refute his claim. "I'll be prepared this time, so I know I can handle it."

Dean eyes his warily. "This isn't just outta guilt, is it? 'Cause I already said, if we don't both enjoy it, it won't be any fun."

"It's not just guilt. I…I want to experience this with you, Dean."

Their eyes meet, and whatever Dean sees there makes him begin nodding a little. "Okay. We can give it another shot. But only if you truly think you can handle it."

"I can," Castiel says, determined. "I'm prepared now."

"You sure are, sweetheart." Dean cracks a small smile, and Castiel returns it, leaning in for a kiss. "If you feel off again though, you gotta tell me, okay?"

"Okay," he agrees easily, kissing Dean again. "Should we ask Charlie to attend as well?"

"Yeah. Maybe Sammy too. With any luck, he'll get stuck on a bus all day again."

Castiel gives Dean a look that morphs into a smile. Where he and Gabriel exchange unwanted gifts (a vivid green and purple scarf comes to mind), Sam and Dean make jokes relating to the suffering of the other, though Castiel knows how quickly they would be to jump to the other's defense. That's just how family is. He has faith that even Gabriel would stop joking around if Castiel really needed him to.

Gabriel is the one who first introduced him to the concept of homosexuality, something he didn't even know was a thing before that. Gabriel has been attending Pride festivals for a very long time, though descriptions of the unending crowds have always scared Castiel away until he dared to go there with Dean and had that fear confirmed.

But it will be different this time, he knows. This time, he'll be prepared.

He gets everything ready the night before, laying out a simple and comfortable outfit consisting of Dean's clothes and his own trench coat, along with his two pins. The many pockets of his trench coat are filled with his stim toys, sunglasses, and phone, and he sets his headphones on top of the carefully folded bundle. Dean comments on the pile of clothes in the corner when they're going to bed for the night, but just smiles when Castiel explains his preparations again, the same way he smiles at dogs and infants.

The next morning, he's feeling adventurous enough to replace the black socks he'd picked out with a pair of rainbow ones with cats on them. He watches Dean paint bisexual flags on his cheeks in the mirror, and when Dean turns around, it's with a laugh.

"Are those my Nyan Cat socks?"

"They have rainbows. And cats."

"That they do." Dean leans in as if to kiss him, only to pause. "Oops, don't wanna smear the paint."

Castiel shutters to imagine the feeling of paint clinging to his flesh and making his skin all stiff and reluctant to move, glad that his face is unmarked. He discovered at a young age that he dislikes face paint; unfortunately, so did Gabriel, and what are older brothers for if not to torment the younger siblings?

He's feeling a little less apprehensive than last time as they drive to the parade, but only because he knows what to expect this time. He'd rather not use his headphones or anything if he can help it, but his hands are already itching to fiddle with something, if only to distract him for a while.

When they pull into a parking space, they both pause. "Cas…we don't gotta go in there, y'know? If you wanna just go, we can. Whatever you want."

Castiel thinks about it for a minute, taking a series of deep breaths as the Google had suggested when he was researching tips to calm down. "I want to try again."

"Okay," Dean says easily, and they exit the vehicle. Castiel can hear the music from here, but he just tries to ignore it, taking Dean's hand quickly for comfort. "Let's go find Charlie, huh? $10 bucks says she's by the biker babes."

"Do you think Gilda will be here, as well?"

"Dunno. Maybe." After a moment, Dean knocks into his shoulder. "Uh oh. Look who's here."

Castiel looks to where Dean's eyes are and quickly finds Sam's head reaching high above the slight crowd. Sam is dressed much the way Castiel is, with a dull color scheme that's similar to what he always wears, though Sam is artfully holding a small gay flag. Beside him is Eileen, who's wearing a very colorful dress and has a gay pride flag banner draped over her back like a cape.

"Heya, Sammy. I can see you're really glad to be here," Dean says when they're near the couple. "Seriously, didn't you have a single colored shirt in your whole closet? I think Eileen stole all your style."

"He wanted to wear khakis, too," Eileen tells them sadly, and Sam huffs.

"Good to see you're enjoying yourself. Jerk."

"I am. Bitch." Castiel watches Sam and Dean stare each other down. "C'mon. This is just sad."

"Hey, Cas isn't wearing a ton of color either, and I don't see you getting on him." Sam glances towards him. "No offense, Cas."

"I have pins," Castiel tells them seriously, presenting the lapels of his trench coat. "And rainbow cat socks."

Eileen's eyes drop to his feet, but Sam's still looking at his coat, asking, "What's that flag? The black and grey one."

"That's…" He hesitates and looks at Dean, who squeezes his hand encouragingly, giving him strength. "That's the asexual flag. It…represents a spectrum of different people who have…feelings about sex ranging from indifference to discomfort to disgust."

"Oh. That's interesting," Sam replies politely, but he's frowning at Dean. Castiel understands why, as he'd known beforehand that Dean would frequent bars in his youth with the purpose of finding temporary companionship. He and Dean have only been together for seven months now, but that phase of life seems so long ago. "I had no idea."

"Doesn't make a difference," Dean says for him, tone dismissive but gaze meaningful. "It's still just Cas."

"Yeah, no, I know," Sam says quickly, visibly backpedaling. "I just thought it was, uh, interesting, that's all."

Eileen nudges the tall man. "You're making it worse."

Sam winces and rubs a hand down his face with a grimace. "Right. Sorry."

"It's all right," Castiel assures awkwardly once he realizes Sam is addressing him. He understands that it's not…normal, after all, but he's never really been normal, with his autism and homosexuality and his altogether weird personality…

He of course knows Sam quite well by now—Castiel has been Dean's friend for a very long time, after all—and likes the man well enough (and Eileen is quickly becoming a comforting presence to be near as well), but he's still rather relieved when they walk away to continue exploring.

This festival seems to be a bit…tamer than the other one they went to, likely due to it being later in the month. There aren't nearly as many stands set up by businesses now that Pride is becoming less relevant by the day, and the crowd is much smaller. There are still too many lights and sounds and people for his taste, but it's more manageable, and the colors seem almost pleasant to look at despite their brightness.

Charlie waves at them enthusiastically from where she's conversing with a woman with dark hair mostly covered by a motorcycle helmet. Castiel watches them interact curiously, wondering if Gilda decided not to attend this time or if she and Charlie were even still talking. To his knowledge, they'd gone on at least one date, but he's not sure what happened after that. Maybe things 'didn't work out,' as they say.

…maybe Gilda was as overwhelmed by everything as he was last time.

But it's going to be different today, because he has a plan and he knows what to expect. And best of all, he has Dean, right by his side, their closeness only briefly interrupted when Charlie approaches for a hug.

"Hey, guys. Cute pins, Cas." Castiel melts into the hug this time instead of skirting away. "You two totally bailed on me last time, by the way. Not cool, dudes!"

"Yeah, the party was a little much," Dean replies, and Castiel smiles at him gratefully, taking his hand again. "How many of these have you gone to this month?"

"This is my eighth. I did a bit of traveling this month. After all, this is the best month to pick up chicks, you know? What's not to love?"

"The 'chicks' part," Castiel answers, trying to make a joke. It must work because Dean beams at him proudly and Charlie laughs outright.

"Don't worry, I'll leave the dudes to you, Cas," Charlie assures him with a smile.

"I only want one 'dude'."

He looks at Dean meaningfully, earning a soft look in response that makes Charlie coo. "You guys are so cute. Like, scream-into-a-pillow cute. Are there any pillows around here?"

"Maybe they have some by the leather daddies," the woman offers with a shrug. "You wanna get a beer?"

Charlie's eyes light up. "Uh, yeah? I'll catch you two later!"

Charlie and the woman leave, but he and Dean remain. As the start of the parade itself grows near, more and more people arrive, and Castiel's stress level raises, though it's still manageable. That doesn't mean he enjoys seeing all the people around him in strange clothes (if any), but he focuses on remaining calm.

It seems that consulting the Google was a good idea, as he has all sorts of new ways to try to better endure this event, even if he can't truly enjoy it with all of the sensory input that's only getting worse with time as he notices more and more things. The lights, the sounds, the smells, the colors, the people…

He's offered a brief reprieve when they temporarily leave the majority of the crowd to get lunch from a food stand. Falafel sandwiches as per Sam's recommendation, which Dean mocks relentlessly despite enjoying the taste. His boyfriend's complaints distract Castiel enough to make him relax despite all the people around him, the familiarity soothing.

The peace does not last long, unfortunately. Once they're finished eating, the distraction disappears and Castiel is left with too much to focus on, his eyes jumping from one thing to another, unable to choose a single thing to concentrate on. His mind does this when given too much stimuli, and he has yet to find a way to overcome it, despite the fact that he's been battling this his entire life. As such, high school was…difficult.

At the thought, his eyes flicker over to Dean as he debates on whether or not to say anything. He can feel the beginnings of panic seeping in, but he shakes his head and tries to ignore it. He can handle this. He…he's got this.

Then the parade begins, and everything amps up and becomes ten times worse all at once.

Castiel squeezes Dean's hand and shuts his eyes, managing to ask, voice shaking, "May I have my headphones?" In the next second, a comforting weight presses against either side of his head, and he relaxes a little, saying loudly enough that he can hear it despite the headphones, "Thank you, Dean."

"No problem, buddy," Dean replies right next to his ear, barely audible. "Tell me if you wanna go or anything, okay?"

He nods and squeezes Dean's hand again in understanding, turning his attention back to the parade as all types of people walk by. It's much easier to handle the Pride parade when he can't hear the music or the recurrent cheers from the crowd, but his skin still metaphorically crawls whenever anyone gets too close.

Castiel ignores it for a little while, but eventually, he asks hesitantly, "Can we go somewhere more…quiet?"

Dean just nods and squeezes his hand before leading him a short distance away from the parade to a hill that overlooks it. They settle into the small patch of grass and just watch, with Castiel resting his head on Dean's shoulder after a moment, glad to have the other man so close.

He closes his eyes for a moment just to relax and listen. He's always liked taking the time to appreciate complete silence, though he can't hear it too much in such an inherently noisy world.

He doesn't mind much. As much as he enjoys silence, he loves many sounds, ranging from Dean's passionate singing to his beloved mixtape to the soft buzzing of the bees he often watches in the park. For now, however, he reaches for a stim toy and enjoys the silence his headphones offer.

From up here, all the people and sensations that were overwhelming before are all but gone. Everything is so…small. The floats that towered over him minutes before and the people surrounding are like watching ants carry food back to their nest, constantly moving and all working together towards the same purpose.

This is what Pride is supposed to be about. It's supposed to unite people in a common cause and celebrate what they've gone through together, like when ants bring back food successfully for the good of the colony. The idea was difficult to remember when he was among them, but from here, it all makes sense in a way it didn't when he'd researched Pride on the Google.

These people…no matter who they are or where they came from, they all just want love and acceptance, just like anyone else. Not for the first time, he realizes that Dean has granted him just that from the very beginning no matter what Castiel threw at him, his asexuality pin being a physical reminder of that.

"I love you," he states after a moment, moving his headphones so that they're slightly off his ears. His eyes move from the parade to the side of Dean's head just in time to watch his boyfriend smile and kiss the top of his head.

"Love you too, sweetheart."

Castiel smiles and nuzzles closer to Dean, enjoying the parade and celebrating his own personal pride with his boyfriend away from the crowd. At the end of the day, what matters most is that they're together and happy, even if that can only happen when they're away from everyone else.

With any luck, he'll be able to get Dean to make cat-shaped waffles again. Or perhaps he'll prepare a pie as a 'thank you' gift for Dean's endless well of patience—and what better flavor to commemorate their first successful Pride parade than a combination of blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries?