Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 

 

 

---

 

When Dean woke up, he was in a room. The room. The fancy room that Michael supposedly destroyed when he overtook Dean's half-brother's body before the fake apocalypse.

But nothing seemed to stay dead or destroyed anymore, not since he met the angels.

Dean blinked in the bright light that faded to the image of the room; the mark of angel magic. He looked around warily as he sat up on the edge of an elaborately gilded bed that he did not remember existing before. He was in an adjoining bedroom, which connected without a barrier to the room with the giant pile of bacon cheeseburgers and the bucket of ice and beer.

He waited, looking around him for the angel responsible to make an appearance. The fuckers liked to pop up out of nowhere with smug looks on their faces. He didn't care for angels, not since the only angel he trusted betrayed him for a pact with a demon.

Dean looked around for a weapon. A pen on the rococo style bedside table might do in a pinch, though it wouldn't do much more than distract the angel in question for half a second.

"Dean. You can't really think that will work against me." He didn't notice Castiel appear, but he rarely did. Dean jumped at the sound, his heart sinking. Just the angel he hoped wouldn't be behind this.

"Better than nothing." Dean grunted. The sight of Castiel, his head tilted at that particular, perpetually confused angle, his long trenchcoat hanging off his shoulders like a heavy blanket that somehow never seemed to tire him, caused a boiling mixture of rage and sadness to bubble up in his chest. He could barely look at him.

"What do you want? Why did you bring me here?" His voice was a low growl.

"I don't want anything. I'm all powerful. I am God."

"Then blink me back to my own bed, damn it! I have nothing to say to you." Dean said with fierce insistence.

"You are upset because of what I did to Sam."

"Yeah, I'm upset!" Dean spat out, clear by his tone that it was the biggest understatement of the year. "Let me go, Cas. I'm warning you."

"Dean, I'm God. Watch yourself." Castiel said sternly. Dean bit his tongue. How could this bastard have the guile to act as though Dean should treat him with anything but disdain? Still, Dean was afraid. He was man enough to admit it. He'd had dealings with near omnipotent beings before and it never turned out well for him.

He opted for stubborn silence instead. Castiel let it hang between them for a while before he spoke.

"I want to know why. Why could you not trust me? After all I gave to you… all I did for you? I asked you for one thing and you refused me." Castiel said. Castiel very rarely showed any sort of emotion in his voice, but now Dean detected a hint of hurt. He found it strange as Castiel claimed to be the new 'God' and human emotion seemed beneath that kind of species.

"Why?" Dean stood from his seat on the bed and walked around to the other side, agitated and in need of the action to soothe him self. "Can't you just crack open my head and look into my memories or something?"

"God always respected free will in his creations. I will as well." Castiel said evenly.

Dean glared at him. He couldn't help it. That damn neutral tone of his, the near expressionless face- he hated it now. It used to be endearing.

"You forget that I lost my brother more than once to deals with demons. Just because I loved you like a brother doesn't mean I had to, or should, stand behind your every decision. Brothers call brothers out on their stupid ideas."

Something sparked through Cas when Dean said 'loved', a ripple of emotion. Dean thought he might have imagined it, but if it was a hallucination it started a kernel of hope in him that was hard to squash. Maybe Cas wasn't 100% untouchable being after all. Maybe there was some small part of the Cas he knew left in there.

"But it worked. I was right."

"You made a deal with the King of Hell." Dean said dismissively.

"But it worked."

"Against the odds. It was still a piss poor idea." Dean shook his head, clenching his jaw in remembered anger.

"Dean." Cas said, and Dean's eyes snapped back to him at the faint tone of pleading, but Cas wasn't where he left him- he was closer now, merely a foot away from him.

"Why are we here now? Why can't we be as we were?" Cas whispered.

"You broke down the wall in my brother's head and let in the Devil." Dean reminded him, his lip curling into a snarl.

"You came after me. I would have fixed it, had you only stayed put." Cas reminded him.

"You knew. You knew I would never stay away. You knew that wouldn't work." And the real betrayal leaked out into his words, the one that really stung him to his core, that made it impossible to forgive the creature in front of him. "You never planned on fixing Sammy to begin with, before that power morphed your mind into whatever it is now."

Castiel stared at him.

"What else could I do?"

"It doesn't matter what you could have done, it matters what you did." Dean said, his voice coarse with anger.

Castiel looked away, contemplating the decorative wall for a few seconds, then back at Dean.

"What if I fixed him now?"

Dean blinked.

"What?"

"I have the power, and perhaps the will."

"Perhaps?" Dean had dealt with far too many manipulative demons not to catch the word choice.

"If you would forgive me, and we could go back to what we were." Castiel said softly, his deep blue eyes flicking back and forth between Dean's.

Dean's heart lept. He wasn't blind to Sammy's suffering. He knew what it was like to remember Hell, god did he know, and Sammy's Hell had likely been much worse. Anything he could do to take that away, he would. Even if it meant stomping on his own pride, because he certainly didn't feel like forgiving Castiel anytime in the near ever.

"Ok." Dean agreed, his voice shaking with the effort to make it sound friendly. Cas's eyes narrowed.

"You have to mean it, Dean. You must actually forgive me."

Dean wanted to scream at him, "Why? Why does it matter to an all-powerful God whether I forgive you or not? Why do you care so much about me now, with the rest of the world's problems on your hands?" Instead, he said gruffly,

"I'll forgive you, alright? You do this for Sammy, and I'll do whatever you want." It was a defeated statement, but Dean wasn't a good actor and he was putting all his energy into hiding his anger.

Castiel's intense stare pressed into him, his eyes narrowing again. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them.

"It is done."

"The wall? You put it back up?" Dean asked, his fists clenching at his side as hope surged through him.

"I did." Castiel nodded.

A shaky breath of relief escaped Dean. He put a hand to his head, rubbing his eyes as he spun around on his heel. The deep press of worry lifted off his chest, a feeling he wasn't used to. Usually whatever he worried about came to pass.

"Thank you." Dean made himself look at Castiel. He willed his resentment toward him to recede, as he really wasn't a good actor.

"You're welcome." Castiel responded, equally quiet. He took a step closer, but he was already too close to begin with. Dean tensed. Castiel saw.

"Dean." He said, his voice deep and warning.

"You have to give me some time, Cas." Dean said, almost exasperated. "You can't expect me to magically be fine. I've been angry at you for a while now."

Castiel let a breath go, and it might have been in irritation, Dean wasn't sure. Dean wondered again what a God would need human emotions for and doubted his ears.

"Alright."

Dean blinked and he was lying in his own bed again, the light from the flickering lamp by his bedside the only source of illumination in the room.

---

"You and your freaking salads. You just escaped Hell in your head, do you think you could learn to live a little? Appreciate life? Eat a goddamn cheeseburger?" Dean frowned as Sam picked lightly at his salad, engrossed in his laptop.

"Well, as it turns out I might actually live to a sane old age, so I would still like to take care of my body." Sam argued with a quiet smile, his eyes still glued to his screen.

Dean bit into his own delicious, greasy meat in a bun and made a noise of satisfaction that caused Sam to look up. Dean drew at his beer and smacked his lips with relish.

"Fine. I'll take a beer next time the waitress comes over, all right?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"That's my Sammy boy!" Dean grinned.

"You do know that beer has next to no nutritional value whatsoev-"
"Shut up and drink."

They clinked their beers together when the waitress brought Sam's beer. Dean couldn't keep the smile off his face after he downed half of his in one swig. Cas was wreaking havoc over all the 'false prophets' of the world, but otherwise they had nothing else big on their plates. That wasn't even really on their 'plate', as Cas was too powerful to attempt to stop, and besides he couldn't really complain about the sorts of things Cas was attacking. Cas hadn't been by to bother Dean since he magicked Sam's head, and the monster count appeared to be at a record low, likely indirectly or directly due to Cas's tyrade.

Dean actually found himself humming as he chewed his burger. He couldn't remember the last time he'd hummed. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd felt so light, either. His brother was fine. Bobby was fine. They weren't tracking any demons at the moment. Dean was chewing fast food while thinking about, and more importantly worrying about, nothing. His life was as close to good as it ever got.

"Hello."

Dean froze at the sound before turning to see the familiar trench coat and loose tie.

"Cas!" Sam whispered in surprise. Sam gaped at him as he stood awkwardly next to their booth.

"Hello, Sam. You look well."

"No thanks to you." Sam replied after a stunned moment. "I never got a chance to properly thank you for that."

"I heard your prayers." Castiel said simply. "There was no need for it though, I was responsible for your illness in the first place. I am sorry about that."

"Well, that's true." Dean found himself grumbling. Sam shot him a look that said something like 'hey he's omnipotent so maybe try not to piss him off'.

Dean felt a powerful pinching in his chest, painful and warm and syrupy. He cleared his throat, the pressure of Castiel's even stare a little too unnerving given his new superpowers. The Cas he remembered was a powerful soldier, but always a bit childlike to Dean. Dean never felt threatened by Cas, often just the opposite, like he had to take care of him in many respects. The new and not necessarily improved Cas, however…

"Dean, has sufficient time passed for you to forgive me?"

Sammy shot Dean a look that Dean ignored.

"I'm working on it, Cas. Gettin' there." He cleared his throat again.

"Would it help if I joined you for a beer?" Cas asked, looking around the dingy diner with mild curiosity.

"Uhhh."

"Sure." Sam answered for him, scooting over in his booth and pulling his laptop and disgusting salad out of the way. Cas looked genuinely touched and thanked him in a far too sincere sort of way before sliding in next to him. His tone reminded Dean of the old Cas, the incredibly awkward Cas. He looked uncomfortable sitting there, as though he wasn't expecting the plastic to be as hard as it was or the fluorescent lights above the table to irritate his eyes. Dean took another bite of his burger. Somehow it tasted less delicious.

"Ok, well." Dean was struck by how ridiculous the situation was- he was having a beer with God. What the hell were they supposed to talk about? He went for sarcasm he knew Cas wouldn't get. "How's punishing all the nonbelievers going, Cas?"

Cas half smiled.

"Well."

"Sounds like it. We see your handiwork on the news from time to time." Sam chimed in.

"I've not tried to hide it." Castiel shrugged.

"Kudos for disbanding the KKK, by the way." Sam gave him a nervous thumbs-up.

"Thank you." Castiel said hesitantly. "I've wanted to address that problem for quite a while now."

"What's that?" Dean nodded at Cas' hand, the edge of what looked like an angry red welt peeking out from under his sleeve.

"It's nothing. It's difficult for this vessel to contain the power I've absorbed, that's all." Cas pulled his sleeve down, temporarily covering the welt. Alarm bells went off in Dean's head and he exchanged a look of worry with Sam.

"You're not going to explode or anything, are you?"

Castiel stared at him.

"No."

"You going to fix that, then?" Dean asked pointedly, a harsh edge to his words. He'd had a bad feeling about Cas' God plan since square one, and he still didn't trust it.

"Yes."

"Great." Dean growled, taking another irritable bite out of his burger before deciding it completely lost its flavor. He set it down for good, appetite gone.

"You're still angry." Cas observed, his sea blue eyes narrowed at him for the millionth time.

"I'm not. I'm just wondering why you've got chickenpox when you're supposed to be all powerful."

"It's temporary." Castiel quirked his head to the side.

"All right." Dean said, his voice tense.

"I thought we had an agreement, Dean."

Sam shifted, and Dean knew what he was thinking because he was thinking it too: Cas built the wall back up in Sam's head, he could easily knock it over again in a second.

Dean slammed his hand down on the table.

"So, what? Are you going to threaten to unclog the crazy drain in Sam's head every time I piss you off? You want to make me your little bitch?"

Castiel glowered at him and Dean felt his skin heat with electricity, the hairs on his arm standing to attention.

"I do not want you as my bitch." Castiel's voice was that of a petulant child admitting a teacher was right all along.

"Then stop with the friggen' agreement, alright? I'll forgive you when I forgive you."

Sam tried to diffuse the tension with small talk, and Castiel eventually went along with it. Cas took one swallow of his beer, made a face, and set it down. Dean thought about that fragile wall in Sam's head and did his best, but the ache in his heart didn't stop. It grew to the point where Dean couldn't even speak, he just played with his beer and beer cap and kept his eyes down, away from the deep, sky blue irises. Then he became aware of a long silence and had no choice but to look up. He met those eyes he'd been avoiding and the warm, gooey, burning acid in his stomach lurched.

Sam looked like he wanted to say something, anything, but then Cas pushed his barely touched beer over to Dean.

"I'll go." He said, his intense expression never easing. Then there was just the hard plastic seat and the space where Cas used to sit. The confusing goo in his chest evaporated into nothingness with his disappearance.

---

It was weeks later when it happened. Dean and Sam threaded their way carefully through an old factory, filled with the smell of tar and dirt, on the hunt for a djinn, and Cas appeared, covered in blood, on the floor before them. Dean was suddenly sick to his stomach and his feet ran without his brain ever having to tell them until he was pulling Cas's head up gingerly from the floor, wiping blood from his face to see his expression.

"Dean… help." Cas whispered, his voice scratchy. Sam threw a panicked look at Dean before pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

"Cas, this- this isn't your blood- what did you do?" Dean searched for a wound, finding nothing but the angry red boils all over Cas' body.

"I killed them… I killed them all….the innocent, the guilty…. I…can't….. you must…." Cas' voice was cracked and throaty.

"Ok, Cas, just tell me what to do." Dean said, his jaw clenched.

They did the ritual and the leviathans rose up. Cas wandered out into the lake, with Dean and Sam's eyes on his back, and the blackness sunk out into the drinking water, and all Dean could think was come back up, come back to me, come on Cas- I'm not there, but I'll get there I promise I will.

He walked down to the water and fished out the floating trench coat, and that night he laid awake in the darkness, running his thumb along the fabric over and over again, staring up into the blackness and hoping for a miracle he didn't dare expect but desperately wanted.

---

Dean carried the trench coat in the back of his car, unable to part from it for very long. Sometimes he would go to grab a weapon, some salt, a gallon of holy water, and he stopped, just for a moment or two, to brush a hand over the fabric and memorize the feel of it. Course, cheap threads, nylon-esque. The beige stained now with river dirt- he couldn't bring himself to wash it for months. It had touched Cas, wrapped his body in warmth, slid along his skin.

He hid it from Sammy in the extra tire compartment, but Sammy found it eventually. Wanted to have a full-on feelings intervention, tying it to his increased liquor intake.

"You were doing so well." Sam said, hands shaking as he stripped his jacket and boots off. Dean collapsed into the bed, his head light and his stomach lurching. "You were getting better."

In the silence Dean remember the other pain he wanted to dull- the screams for mercy, the sight of sharp objects piercing flesh, the smell of burning insides.

"He knew that you cared about him, Dean."

"Shut the fuck up, Sam." Dean whispered back. If Sam thought talking about it was going to do any good, he was wrong.

He was dead. He was never coming back.

---

"Emmanuel." Dean gaped at the man staring at him, his heart exploding in his chest. He couldn't be- but he was. He was looking right at him, and it was impossible to forget that face, his eyes bright against his dark sweater, looking so unlike Cas in that change of clothes. Cas looked up at him, a mixture of confusion and fear taught in the line of his mouth.

He said nothing, only edged cautiously past him and through the door, hurrying over to the woman tied to the chair. The house looked entirely too normal: potted plants, the faint smell of french toast, the floral print curtains.

Then the woman stood up, freed of her bindings, and pressed her hands against Cas's chest, running them up along his cheek in a familiar way.

Cas held her hand and drew closer to Dean.

"I'm Emmanuel."

He came to this house not knowing what to expect, but definitely not this.

"Dean." He surprised himself when his voice came out as steady as it did. He shook his hand. Maybe he could get on board with this amnesia. They could start over, forget all the ugly conflict between them. Dean was ready to start over now.

"Thank you for protecting my wife."

Dean drew a breath, feeling like Cas had kicked him in the stomach. He told himself it was because this was another loose string he had to cut, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Wife?" He heard himself say, his mouth suddenly dry.

Cas didn't remember demons. That was a problem, a real problem, but somehow it didn't clench his gut the same way. Dean processed it mechanically, rather than emotionally. He reasoned he would have to explain it all as demons had already tied up his wife and intruded on his house. They would keep coming.

"Emmanuel has very special gifts." The woman said, sliding her hand affectionately along Cas's arm. She seemed like a nice lady, but Dean hated her.

"Look…" Dean couldn't stop staring at Cas, finding his change of clothing highly unsettling. "You said you found Cas, that it was like a miracle." He made himself look at the woman, who was listening intently, smiling a little and nodding in agreement. "Well, unfortunately, you were right. Cas is…he's an Angel. That might be hard to believe, but he is." Dean struggle with his next words. "Thank you for taking care of him, but he has to come with me."

Castiel's eyes widened with shock.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Ca- Emmanuel." Dean said, though he didn't feel it. He wanted out of this house now, and he wanted to drag Cas out with him, "You're a soldier, an important one, and the thing that tied her up- he's not alone. They'll keep coming. The only way to protect her is to leave. We need your help anyway, and we know how to fight them, but we can only take care of each other if we stick together."

"I'm a soldier? I heal people." Cas said faintly. His 'wife' clutched at his sleeve.

"Well." Dean shrugged. "You can also do a hell of a lot of damage when you want." Dean said. Cas simply stared at him in shocked silence. Dean let a breath go. "Look, not to point fingers, but you actually started the war we're in right now."

"I did?"

"Yeah, you did." Dean said. "You didn't mean to, but you opened a can of worms and we've been trying to shove them back in over the past couple of months. It hasn't been pretty."

Cas swallowed and looked down.

"I'm very sorry."

Dean immediately regretted his impatient words. He'd just got him back and now he was yelling at him again.

"I just- I need your help, that's all. Please trust me." Dean said, gruff but trying to sound gentler.

Cas stared at him a moment longer before turning to his wife. She looked bewildered and sad and more than a little upset with Dean, but she had kept her silence up until then.

"I'm sorry, Daphne." Cas said softly. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"You're going to go with him?"

"I can't explain, but I feel that everything he's saying- it's the truth. I'm so sorry."

Daphne wiped at her eyes, sniffing. She kissed Cas softly.

"You fell into my life, and now you're falling out of it. You have been a blessing to me, and though what this man is saying is difficult to believe…. I trust you. I'm- I'm only sad that I have to let you go."

"I'm sorry." Cas said again, his hand drifting through her hair. Dean walked over to the door and looked out at the suburban block.

Cas' touch at his shoulder alerted him when the goodbyes were over. They walked down the stairs together in silence.

---

"Goddamn leviathans and their goddamn face stealing." Dean muttered as he gripped the remote control. Castiel hovered on the edge of the bed, chin in his palm, watching intently. Dick, so appropriately named, was going on about his new food components, using bullshit marketing words like "pure" and "natural".

"And that will-"

"Turn you into cattle, yeah. Slow and stupid, easy pickings for a leviathan breakfast." Dean muttered.

"I did this." It was a low moan.

Dean stared at his hunched backside in silence.

"Not on purpose."

"Intent is irrelevant, Dean, you should know that by now. The path to hell-"

"Is paved with good intentions, I know." Dean rolled his eyes. "Cut yourself some slack. Intentions matter. They're the difference between repeating your mistakes and atoning for them."

Cas looked over his shoulder, and for a long tense moment he didn't say anything.

"You are a good friend, Dean." Cas said, a weak smile on his face.

Dean tossed the remote on the bed haphazardly. Sammy was out doing something of import. It was a Friday night. The buzz of the cheap lights in the motel room hummed in their ears and Dick prattled on the tv, his smug face the very picture of sociopathy.

"So, how was married life?"

Cas glanced back at him once more.

"Well considering it's all I can remember… not bad. Daphne was a very nice woman."

"You know, I once took you to a brothel because we thought we might die in the morning and you let slip that you'd never even tossed down with an angel lady. Which, by the way, I have and you missed out big time, buddy."

"Oh?" Castiel rubbed a hand behind his head, the movement stiff and awkward.

"Yeah, but you scared off your date by talking about her daddy issues." Dean chuckled at the memory, the way they'd run out the backdoor to avoid security, the prostitute screaming bloody murder at them.

"Did I?"

Dean laughed, and when his laughter died down Castiel turned to sit so they were facing each other, a smile hesitantly tugging at his lips.

"So, I gotta ask again, man- how was married life?" Dean meant to sound joking, good natured ribbing between two guys, but his throat tightened and it sounded more demanding than teasing.

Castiel looked away and seemed to reconsider his position.

"It wasn't like that. I'm still- I mean, I didn't really feel comfortable."

"No shit." Dean whispered. He hadn't realized his chest was tight until the pressure was gone and he had to laugh at how light he felt. Castiel frowned and blushed. "Sorry, sorry. It's just- you're still the same old Cas. How did she put up with that?"

Cas looked around, as though for an escape route, before he seemed to realize he had to answer Dean. "She was very religious." Cas said, clearly uncomfortable. "She didn't mind waiting until I was, um, ready."

"Generous girl." Dean chuckled again, picking the remote control back up and toying with it.

"That's an angel thing, right?"

"What is?"

"A lack of attraction to the opposite sex?" Castiel said, innocently curious. Dean froze.

"A lack of attraction in general?" Dean said slowly, "Or a lack of attraction just to girls?"

Castiel furrowed his brow.

"Are you suggesting-" Castiel looked even more confused. "That I might be gay?"

"Hey, you're the one who said you don't like girls. I'm just putting the pieces together here." Dean threw his hands up in defense. His heart had sped up for no reason. Castiel looked incredibly confused. "But… I'm pretty sure it's not just an angel thing. I've slept with an angel before, and she seemed to have no problem with, uh, attraction."

"I've never thought about it." Castiel said, looking off into nowhere in particular, "I don't know. The situation never presented itself."

Dean's eyebrows shot up.

"Alright, well. I can't help you there, sorry." Dean scooted off the bed and stood, stretching, mostly for an excuse to move the jitter out of his limbs.

"But Dean, how would I find this out?" Castiel asked quickly. "Now I'm very unsure."

"Uuuuh, buddy, I don't know. You know what? Maybe you're not. Maybe you just weren't attracted to her. That's entirely possible." Dean scratched his head, looking anywhere but at Cas, flipping through channels with the remote before settling back onto the bed.

"Maybe." Castiel looked troubled, introspective. Dean tried to focus on whatever the fuck was on tv, some lizard eating a spider or something, but Castiel's stillness was too distracting.

"Alright, let's go out. We'll find you a guy to hit on. You happy?"

"What?" Castiel looked up, alarmed.

"You've got that 'I just watched a puppy get shot' face on and I can't stand it. We'll settle this once and for all so you won't wallow in your existential crisis right in front of me."

He stood and dragged Castiel out of his frozen, deer-in-headlights stare and onto his feet.

"Up we go, come on." Dean said roughly.

The bar was noisy and loud and maybe not the right place to try to smoke out a gay guy, but hey, they were stuck in the middle of the desert in Colorado and they had to take what they could get.

The cigarette smoke made Cas cough as they took their seat on high barstools and Dean ordered a beer.

"See anyone moderately attractive to you?" Dean asked.

"I'm not- I'm not used to looking at people like that. How do you know who's attractive to you and who's not?" Castiel asked, flabbergasted.

Dean scratched at his chin, exasperated.

"Oh my god. You just know, ok? I can't explain this to you."

Castiel looked down at his folded hands in reaction to Dean's tone.

Dean took a deep breath. He forgot how hard it was to talk to Cas sometimes. There was something so wrong about two grown-ass men having this conversation.

"There are physical signs." Dean said, his eyes skyward, his teeth gritted together.

"OH." Cas' eyes were as round as his lips as he uttered the word.

"Yeah, you understand now? So you've gotten one before?"

"Yes." Cas said quickly. "Do you get… physical signs… every time you're attracted to someone? Or is that only sometimes? Do you have to be attracted to them to get it?"

"No, but that's a pretty good indicator."

Cas stared at him, tilting his head to the side until panic crossed his expression and he looked away very quickly.

"Dean. I don't want to do this."

Dean laughed.

"I know you don't, buddy, but you're a pain in my ass until we get this sorted out so we're doing it."
"Dean." Cas pleaded.

"How about him?" Dean asked pointing over Cas's shoulder. He literally twisted in his seat to stare at the guy. Dean had to reach over and pull Cas back into a normal position.

"Not like that! Suave, casual. Don't be so goddamn obvious!" Dean hissed, slumping over, hiding behind his hand and checking between his fingers to make sure the guy hadn't noticed Cas's incredibly direct approach.

"Well, I don't know!" Cas said, looking panicky again. "You didn't tell me!"

"I'm telling you now- suave, casual. Alright?"

Cas stared at him like he was thinking about vomiting on the table before teleporting out.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Relax, dude. You're just going to talk to someone, like you're talking with me now. It's not that scary. You don't have to go fuck in the back of the impala or anything."

"Dean!" Cas hissed, horrified.

"I'm saying you don't have to do that." Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't help a little smile. "Not that I would let you. Though I might loan you the motel room for the night if you're really desperate. I can be charitable."

"Dean!" Cas repeated, his eyes wider than Dean had ever seen them.

"You wouldn't say it like that if you knew what you were missing." Dean chuckled. "You'd be thanking me, believe me."

Cas nervously folded and unfolded a napkin on the table.

"What do I even say?" He wondered hesitantly.

"You say, 'Hi, my name is Cas.'" Dean fished a couple of bucks out of his wallet and slid them over to Cas with one finger. "'Can I buy you a drink?'" Cas slowly lifted the bills off the table.

"Say it, Cas." Dean ordered flatly. After Cas's version of 'checking someone out', Dean had to quality check every ounce of flirting Cas could muster before releasing him on someone else.

"Hi, my name is… Cas…. Can I buy you a…drink." Cas faltered on every other word.

"Ok, now say it like you don't expect me to hit you over the head and steal your kidneys."

Castiel stared.

"Hi, my name is Cas. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Much better." That metaphor worked like a charm.

"Dean, what if they say no?"

"Then you smile politely and come back here." Dean shrugged.

Cas' eyes grew wide again.

"What if they say yes?"

"Then you have a beer, flirt a little bit, see if you get any, you know, under the table salute. Now, pick someone." Dean said, impatient with hand-holding him through such common sense.

Cas swallowed hard.

"You pick. I can't." He said quickly.

Dean scoured the bar. There wasn't a lot to choose from, but he didn't think that guy he'd pointed out earlier noticed Cas's obvious move. He looked attractive enough, and he didn't seem to be particularly interested in the girl sitting next to him and occasionally attempting to flirt with him. She was pretty cute by Dean's standards, so that left a reasonably good chance that he was simply not interested in girls, right?

"Try it on him."

Cas nodded and stood from his stool. A thought occurred to Dean and he reached out to grab Cas's hand.

"But, Cas, this is important- you know that people aren't always… well, aren't always accepting. You have to be careful."

Castiel looked beyond frustrated.

"Dean, I don't know what that means."

"It means that if he looks angry or freaked out in any way, you laugh it off. You say your friend bet you fifty bucks to hit on a guy and then you come back here and we leave, alright?" Dean couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this sooner. They were in the middle of nowhere in Colorado.

"…Ok." Cas seemed even more nervous now.

"Ok." Dean nodded, suddenly as nervous as Cas seemed.

Cas approached the man, wiping his likely sweaty palms on his trench coat as he did. Dean watched carefully, looking over the man's body language as Cas approached, ready to jump from his seat if he ran into any trouble.

Cas was too stiff, and his eyes kept darting over to the flirty girl eyeing him suspiciously, but he got through the line. The man looked him over, glanced at the girl next to him, and for a split second Dean could have sworn something like interest flitted through him, but then he shook his head and turned back to his drink, ignoring Cas. Cas looked desperately back at Dean for instructions and Dean motioned for him to return.

"Ok, so he wasn't into it. That happens sometimes." At least he didn't punch you out of homophobia, Dean thought grimly.

"He wasn't into it." Cas repeated, like Dean was teaching him another line. He looked around the bar, a little more confident, despite the fact that he'd just been openly rejected. "Should I try again?"

"Actually, Cas." Dean sighed. "We should call it a night."

"I thought you said-"

"I know, but I was an idiot. I don't know what I was thinking. It's not the same for you as it is for me." Dean said, and his heart sank a little at the thought. Cas couldn't just walk into any bar and try to pick someone up without the threat of some dudes cornering him in an alley afterward. Not that Cas couldn't take them all down, but he had no protection against hateful words like he did against human punches. Dean didn't want him to have to deal with that side of humanity on a personal level.

Castiel nodded slowly, relieved.

"Great."

They walked back up the steps and Dean jimmied the keys into the door. Sam still wasn't there. Dean called, and Sam whispered quickly that he was at some girl's house, not to worry.

At least someone was getting lucky tonight.

Cas wandered into the room, quieter than usual, absorbed in his own thoughts. Dean crossed his arm behind his head and flipped the tv on, but Cas was standing next to the tv, playing absently with the antenna, and it caused snow every three seconds. Dean's heart was too heavy to yell at him. Instead, he just flipped the tv off.

"Well, thank you Dean." Cas straightened when he realized Dean's full attention was on him. "I suppose. I guess I'll go."

"You don't have to." Dean said quietly. Cas looked around.

"Well, our night is over, isn't it?"

Dean hated when people asked him if he was ok; it was obvious when someone was upset. What a stupid question. He never wanted to talk his feelings out like Sammy constantly pushed him to do, it didn't do any good. He wanted a distraction, not a heart-to-heart.

"There's some beer in the fridge. Toss me one, keep one for yourself."

Dean drank until he laughed freely and openly. Cas overcame his aversion to the taste, probably out of some incessant need to please Dean that Dean would never understand, and drank until his cheeks and nose were pink. The last time they'd tried to get him drunk, it took three times the amount of alcohol before he started to 'feel it', but this time was different for some reason. Maybe Cas had been brought back more human than Angel, Dean wasn't sure. They each sat on a bed, and Dean did most of the talking. Cas didn't remember enough to have much to say. He asked about their previous 'adventures' as he called them, about how they met, about Sammy, about the impala, about Dean and his conquests. He asked a lot of questions about sex that Dean didn't have patience to answer. Which led them back into the 'gay' thing.

"What about that prostitute I tried to set you up with?" Dean asked after a long gulp. A pleasant buzz started in his ears and his fingertips were numb.

Cas stroked the beer bottle shyly.

"Before you scared her off- did you want to get down and dirty with her? It seems like you upset her on accident."

"That was accidental, but… I didn't have a 'physical reaction' to her." Cas replied delicately, staring intently at the bottle.

Well, she was hot, so that didn't bode well for the straight card. Dean didn't say that, though.

"Don't worry about it, man. It's not a big deal if you like guys." Dean's words were a little slurred. "I don't care about that shit." Cas smiled at that, propping his head sleepily on his fist.

"I couldn't bear it if you did. I would fight it."

"Cas, don't say that."

"I would have sex with a girl if it would make you happy, Dean." Cas said, his eyelids drooping. He was smiling at Dean like he was too tired to care.

"Cas, that's fucking twisted. Don't say that ever again."

"I would, though. I would never look at a man again if you didn't want me to."

Dean got up sloppily and tripped the small space between the beds to press his hand against Cas' mouth.

"Stop. I don't care, alright? For Christ's sake, I was trying to help you hit on guys tonight." He swayed on his feet.

Cas lifted his hand to Dean's, his fingers ghosting over the back of it. Dean watched with slow fascination, a hard lump growing in his throat. Then he felt Cas press a kiss to his palm, uncoordinated and unrestrained, his hand settling over Dean's fully now. Dean pulled his hand away.

The room was tilting a bit, but Dean was sober enough to know the atmosphere changed completely. Cas looked at him with guileless affection, his smile soft and his eyes hooded.

"I would." He repeated.

"Cas." Dean licked his dry lips. He could hear the blood pump through his ears.

"Do you know… how I know what a 'physical reaction' is?" Cas said, laughing as though it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back until it rested against the bed frame. "I get them for you, Dean. I didn't know… I didn't realize that's what that meant. I thought my body was malfunctioning."

Dean's breath hitched in his throat and he stood frozen. He didn't know how the fuck to respond to that. Luckily, Castiel started to snore and he didn't have to form a response. He did have to sit down, though. The whole world was tilting on its axis.

Dean wondered briefly when Cas had started sleeping. He was pretty sure angels didn't need to do that. Maybe it was the booze... which also wasn't supposed to affect him.

Dean lay back against the pillows and prayed Cas wouldn't remember a word he said.

---

He didn't mention anything beyond how bad his head hurt and how dry his throat was, moaning in pain as he stumbled to the bathroom to throw up his insides. Dean hissed at him to shut up and turn the lights off.

They met Sam at a surprisingly clean diner.

"You two look like hell." Sam muttered.

"Battle scars from a great night, Sammy."

Sam shook his head, smiling.

"Did you have a great night, Sam?" Cas asked, groaning a bit and leaning his head against the side of the booth.

"What did you teach him?" Sam asked in response to Cas's overly obvious attempt at innuendo.

"Cas has been learning about human pleasures." Dean explained with a grin.

"You… corrupted an angel?"

"There's nothing corrupt about sex, Sam. If you think so, then you're doing it wrong."

"Dean thinks I'm gay." Cas moaned. It was a quiet complaint over how much inconvenience the ambiguity of the question had caused him in the last 24 hours.

"What?" Sam blinked.

"Dean thinks I'm gay." He repeated louder as though he thought volume was the reason for Sam's confusion.
Actually, Dean knew he was gay. He avoided the look Sam tried to exchange with him.

"Seriously?" Sam said out loud when that didn't work.

"Well he doesn't like girls, and I know firsthand that Angel's get horny, remember?"

"Anna." Realization dawned in Sam's eyes. "Dean, she was a fallen angel."

"Look, fallen or not- an angel is just like a demon in that they both take over human bodies, with human desires and human functions. Demons can and do fuck. You know that firsthand."

"But my host was not gay," Cas grumbled. "So why would I be?"

"Yeah, why would he be?" Sam wondered accusingly, as though Dean was playing a mean practical joke on Cas in confusing him about his sexuality.

"Jesus, Sam, we ran some tests. It's pretty certain at this point. Don't ask me why, how would I know?" Dean couldn't say exactly how certain without letting too much information through.

"That's strange. Were you gay in heaven, Cas?"

Cas let an exaggerated sigh go, irritable in his hungover state.

"I'm an angel. God made us as soldiers. We don't spend a lot of time on pleasure, or emotion for that matter."

"Right." Sam grinned and started to wolf down his fruit salad. Goddamn salad for breakfast too.

"Well this obnoxious human body needs to relieve itself." Cas muttered, waving at Dean to scoot out of the booth. Dean obliged and watched Cas shuffle away to the bathroom.

He eyed Sam, wondering if he should try talking to him about it. But that could lead to the type of feelings conversation Dean hated. Unfortunately, he eyed him for too long and Sam noticed.

"What?" He wiped his lips with a napkin.

Dean was quiet. He decided to tell him, opened his mouth, and then changed his mind against it.

"Oh, come on." Sam frowned.

"I think Cas might have a little crush on me." Dean whispered, eyes darting to the bathroom.

"Why would you think that?" Sam leaned in, probably because Dean was speaking so quietly he could barely hear himself.

"Because he told me. Why do you think?"

"Wow, really? You two don't look awkward at all. What did you say?" Sam looked far too amused.

"I didn't have to say anything, he passed out drunk after he said it."

"That's convenient." Sam snorted.

"He doesn't remember."

"Clearly."

Dean ground his teeth, irritated by his brother's lack of solemnity regarding the situation.

"You're the expert on these things- what the fuck do I do?"

"How am I…?" Sam started, then glanced at the bathroom, seeming to realize how little time they had, "Whatever. Obviously you have two options- you bring it up or you don't."

"Yeah, but what should I do?" Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's obvious answer.

"He doesn't remember his life, Dean. He's probably just attached to you because you're helping him so much when he needs it. I would wait until his memories return- maybe he'll remember what a pain in the ass you are and get over it."

Cas chose that moment to exit the bathroom. Dean scowled at Sam and jerked his head in Cas' direction. Sam started shoveling fruit into his mouth again.

Dean tried not to stare as Cas approached them, but his attention caught on a man who intercepted Cas' path. Cas looked surprised, then bashful. Dean watched them talk for two minutes, completely confused- Cas had other human friends?

The man pressed something into his hand before returning to a table on the other side of the restaurant.

"Who was that?" Dean asked suspiciously as Cas scooted back in.

"You don't recognize him? That's the man I attempted to talk to last night."

Dean choked on his coffee.

"What did he want?" Dean asked, his voice dark with protective instinct.

"He gave me his phone number, told me to call him." Cas shrugged.

Sam gaped, a half smile starting on his face. Cas obviously did not realize the significance of this. The level of obliviousness Cas had in regards to everyday, common sense occurrences physically hurt Dean.

"Look at Cas go." Sam laughed.

Dean's stomach lurched and he wondered if maybe it was something he ate.

"Why didn't he just do that last night?"

"He told me he wanted to be 'discreet'." Cas actually used air quotes properly.

Dean stabbed his eggs with his fork.

"Yeah, because a waffle house is goddamn discreet." Dean muttered. Sam stared at him strangely before returning his attention to Cas.

"You going to call him?"

"Should I call him, Dean?"

Dean paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. Sam's eyebrows shot up.

"Cas, you can call him if you want to call him. I don't know why you think that's my decision to make."

"Well you helped me flirt in the first place." Cas pointed out, sounding a little hurt. "You told me what to do and it worked, so I thought you might have more advice."

"I don't know, Cas. Nobody told me, I had to figure it out. You can figure it out fine for yourself, you're not a damn lemming. You have a human brain, too, in addition to a human dick."

"Jeez." Sam gave him that strange look again.

"What?" Dean said testily, impaling his sausage.

But Sam didn't clarify, and Dean didn't push. They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.

Chapter Text

Dean wiped oil on his work jeans, breathing through his mouth to avoid the grimy smell. Despite the dirt hazards, working on his car soothed him. He was irritable lately, though he couldn't explain why when Sam called him out on it.

Dick wasn't improving his mood. The bastard had more manpower than they were equipped to deal with, and they hadn't had a break on how exactly they could deal with him in far too long.

Then there was Cas…

Dean couldn't stop thinking about the way Cas had looked at him, the feel of his lips against his palm. He wasn't quite sure what to do about the whole situation, but he hadn't mentioned it yet, just as Sam suggested.

Besides, Cas was off figuring out his sexuality on his own at the moment. He didn't seem too torn up about his little crush.
Dean let the hood fall with a slam. He wiped his hands off fully on a rag and tossed it in the back before he locked her up.

"Did you figure out what that clicking sound was?" Sam asked as Dean closed the door to the hotel behind him. Dean grunted and grabbed his coat from the closet.

"I'm starved."

Sam closed his laptop. He picked his coat off the hook by the door and went for his coat.

"Will you go get her started? She needs to warm up." Dean tossed the keys to Sam, who nodded and left. Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and rested head in his hands for a moment.

God, he was tired, and so very irritable.

"It didn't work." Cas' maudlin voice drifted through the room.

"Holy mother of God!" Dean shot off the bed at the sound. Castiel was suddenly lying on the bed behind him.

"God doesn't have a mother, or not one that I know of." Cas squinted at him, unable to understand figure of speech as per usual.

"Cas, can't you ring a bell or a gong or something before you just show up in people's rooms? A little warning. That's all I'm asking for."

Cas sat up, his legs still splayed over the bed.

"Dean, I did not experience a physical attraction to Adam."

"Who?"

"Bar man!" Castiel clarified urgently. He stared at Dean in that intense way that Dean used to think creepy, but now it seemed almost… cute.

"Oh." Castiel's date for the night. Right.

"He kissed me and I didn't experience anything."

Dean flushed.

"He kissed you? What did you do?"

"I came here to tell you that I did not experience a physical reaction." Cas said impatiently, as though this should have been obvious already.

"What, you just teleported away in the middle of it?"

"Yes."

Dean started to laugh, really laugh. He had to grab the dingy chair to steady himself. After his day of pent up anger, it was a welcome release, one he didn't realize he needed so badly. A black cloud of anger seemed to gather around Castiel as he watched him.

"So my misfortune is amusing to you?"

"You are amusing to me."

Castiel's lip curled into a snarl, but then he deflated.

"First the prostitute, now this man. I must really be broken." Castiel sighed, reclining hopelessly back against the bed into his original position.

He didn't want to do this, really didn't want to, but Cas looked so pathetic lying there and staring at the ceiling listlessly.

"Just because you didn't get a woody for him doesn't mean you weren't attracted." Dean sighed. He sank into the chair and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. Castiel sat up again, his interest peeked. He leveled his intense gaze on Dean, and Dean couldn't help but squirm against such scrutiny.

"That's just one way to tell, a very clear sign. But you can have an emotional attraction to someone too."
"And how would I distinguish that?"

Dean looked at his innocently curious expression and tried to remember that Cas was capable of great violence and military prowess. He could snap him in two if he wanted.

He couldn't say it to that face, so he said it to the wall, and his hands, and the denim of his jeans instead.

"You want to protect them. You respect them. You care when they're sad, rejoice when they're happy. They can never be too close. Even when you're fucking, it's not close enough. It'll never be close enough." It was a bad idea, and Dean didn't know why he did it, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Do you… do you feel that way about anyone?"

Castiel was very quiet, so quiet Dean could hear his own heart beat. When Dean finally chanced to look up, Cas' stare was so grave it made the air around him feel heavy.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing in here?" Sam opened the door and broke the silence. Cas jumped and awkwardly rearranged himself on the bed so his feet swung off the sides.

"Oh. Hey Cas."

"Sam." Cas nodded, his gravelly voice taught.

"You ready to go?" Sam asked Dean. Dean was irritable again, even more than before.

"Yeah, alright."

"Cas, want to come with? We're going to dinner."

"I am hungry." Cas said with some confusion.

"Now wait just a minute." Dean's thoughts turned over quickly in his head. "Why are you hungry? And for that matter, why were you able to get so drunk the other night? You fell asleep. And- son of a bitch. The other night when we were talking you remembered how you felt about that prostitute I set you up with." Dean's mouth fell open. "How did you remember that?"

"Oh, I guess I did." Cas said mildly.

"You did what?" Sam groaned.

"Don't give me that 'oh I guess I did' bullshit! If your memories were starting to return, why didn't you say something?" Dean yelled, standing up.

Cas shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, when we were talking the other night… as you told me stories, I could remember them. I could picture what you were saying and how I felt at the time. But I don't remember everything, just bits and pieces. I've been remembering much more about being an Angel than of my life after I met you two."

"So why are you hungry and sleepy and running to the bathroom, then?" Sam wondered.

Castiel sighed.

"It's a side-effect. I haven't been back to heaven…. in months, close to a year. Not even one trip. I've started to acclimate to my human body."

"So you're turning human?" Dean wondered.

"Not exactly. I can't change species. I'm just more… in tune with my physical needs here. Usually I don't experience them, but… It's a slow process."

"Is that why you're freaking out over your sexual preference? Because I gotta tell you, Cas, I never pegged you for thinking twice about that kind of thing." Sam laughed under his breath.

"Oh, come on. Cas is different from most Angels. He rebelled, for Christ's sake. He thinks for himself, wonders about things other Angels wouldn't. I don't find it surprising at all." Dean shrugged.

"Thank you, Dean." Cas said softly.

Sam looked between them, and that strange expression overcame him. Dean broke contact with Cas, uncomfortable under his brother's scrutiny.

"Well Cas has the munchies for once, so let's indulge him."

---

"I do not understand how you humans get anything done with your tiny bladders and short intestines calling for your attention every few hours."

"Well, for one thing, we don't talk about it. For another, the process of filling those two things is pretty great, so we don't complain much." Dean bit off the end of another chicken finger to punctuate his words.

"Tell us about your date, Cas." Sam suggested.

"Uneventful." Cas shrugged.

"Indulge us." Sam seemed to harbor an intellectual curiosity when it came to Cas's sexual journey. It annoyed Dean to no end. "I mean, all's stale on the Leviathan front. We're still just as powerless as usual, and you recovering your memory is our best chance at finding a way to beat these things…. so, let's talk about your memories. New and old."

Cas took a slow breath.

"We ate dinner. He talked about his work and family. I talked about my amnesia and the fact that I am an angel, which he laughed at- I think he thought I was joking, but I decided not to correct him. Then he groped me under the table, dragged me into the men's bathroom and kissed me in a vacant stall."

"He did what?" The growl that came out of Dean was surprisingly low. Sam gaped at him a moment before he bit into his veggie burger.

"Oh really?" Sam said as soon as he finished chewing. Dean wanted to smack the amusement right out of Sam. How could he think some guy manhandling poor, innocent Cas was funny? "Then?"

Dean sipped aggressively at his straw.

"Then I teleported to Dean to tell him the experiment was a failure, or so I thought at the time. I did not experience a physical reaction to his violent advances."

"Violent? That fucker was violent with you? Alright, give me his number." Dean extended his hand over the table. Cas was startled by the action, but he fished around in his trench coat pocket.

"I seemed to have misplaced it." Cas eyed his empty, insistent hand with trepidation.

"Goddamn it. You see him again, you let me know."

Sam started to laugh out loud.

"What is your deal?" Dean demanded of Sam.

"I have to urinate. Again. This is exhausting." Cas complained as he stood from his chair and threaded his way to the bathroom.
Sam watched Cas retreat, ignoring Dean. Dean was about to repeat his question with more force when Sam turned back to him, a giant grin plastered on his face.

"Should we set him up with someone else? Maybe a screening process this time: only applications where people checked the 'not sexually aggressive' box."

"That better be a joke." Dean frowned, jamming a chicken finger into the gloppy mess of honey mustard in his food basket.
"Wow, I can't believe this but…" Sam shook his head slowly, still grinning. "You are jealous."

Dean turned to stare at him, his stomach dropping into his ass. He couldn't even form words to address the absurdity of that statement.

"You're a little slower than I, and Stanford, assumed, Sammy. I'll spell it out for you, since the last I don't even know how many years on the road together haven't sunk in: I like women. A lot."

"And men, apparently. Or at least Cas. Definitely Cas." Sam was still grinning as he bit into his sandwich.

"Oh my god, this is some college crap, isn't it? I knew you were going to come back a hippie. Can't a guy just watch out for a friend without gettin' judged?"

"Will you just admit it? I mean, sure, I barely believe it myself, but you are jealous that Cas is getting groped in a bathroom stall by some guy that's not you."

"Shut up, Sam." Though Dean couldn't deny that his throat tightened just at the thought.

"It isn't always an either or thing you know." Sam teased as he stole one of Dean's fries and popped it in his mouth, still grinning. "It is possible to like both. Or maybe just a person."

"You have no idea how wrong what you're saying- I can't- I have never-"

"You are. Live it, love it, accept it, Dean."

Dean couldn't speak, so he just gaped at his brother's smug face until Cas returned from the bathroom.

"That was disgusting. That's never happened before." Cas wrinkled his nose.

"Too much information, Cas." Sam set his veggie burger down.

"Well at least I have room to fill my stomach again, right?" Cas said brightly, smiling at Dean. He tossed a fry into his mouth and let out a hum of satisfaction.

"Food is wonderful. I like food."

---

"No more diners for a while." Dean muttered to himself as they left. "Bad things happen at diners."

"What bad thing happened at this diner?" Cas asked. Dean forgot he had that damn Angel hearing.

"Don't worry about it." Dean sighed. Sam snickered.

"You are a… bad person." Dean sputtered and Sam's snicker turned into a roar of laughter. He still had the keys- Dean actually let him drive over for once. He spun them around his finger, pausing by the door to the Impala, deep in thought.

"Hey, I have a friend nearbye. I've been meaning to look him up since we got here, he's really into occult research and he might be able to give us some pointers."

"Great. Let's go." Just what Dean needed, a distraction.

"I can handle it alone. You two take the motel. Sounds like Cas needs it."

"Sam." Dean barked.

Sam grinned at his own joke. Castiel looked between them, confused.

"I am only moderately sleepy. I could probably nap for an hour and be fine for tomorrow." Cas said.

"Hear that? He's fine. Let's go."

"No my friend's house is within walking distance from here." Sam threw the keys to Dean. Dean caught them and smirked.

"Oh yeah? What's your friend's name?"

"Tom Smith." Sam said without hesitation.

"What does he do?"

"Welder. And occult researcher."

"Family?"

"A Wife."

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith? You kidding me with this?" Dean sighed. Damn, the kid could lie through his teeth. Law was the perfect occupational choice. Sam flashed him a smug look.

"I'm sure you'll find something to do. Maybe that whole storytelling thing that worked out so well before, for Cas' memory of course. I'll see you guys in the morning."

And then that bastard winked at him.

He walked off, heading down the block, hands in his pockets. Cas turned to Dean.

"Are we going to get drunk again? It was fun at the time, but I did not care for the next morning."

"If we are, it's going to be in a bar." Dean said, his heart suddenly speeding up. No way were they going back to that motel. Not after that wink.

"You won't make me talk to anyone, right?" Cas said, adjusting his trench coat nervously.

"No." Dean breathed, "No, I won't."

---

Dean felt awkward, and it was all Sam's fault. He couldn't sit still, peeling the wrapper from his beer, tossing stale nuts from the 'Colorado Bulls' plastic dish at their table down his throat even though he wasn't remotely hungry.

"Dean." Cas said mildly, taking a swig from the beer Dean bought him, "I think I'm starting to enjoy the flavor of this drink."

"Because that's an Ephraim. Best damn beer I ever drank, I'm surprised they stock it in this little piece of nowhere."

Cas sipped once more, contemplating this new information though it couldn't have meant anything to him, licking his lips. Dean watched his tongue run over his lower lip and cursed Sam once more for making him so self-conscious.

"So." Cas began. Dean realized he was staring at Cas with a very grim expression and tried to smooth it out before he noticed. "With the memories I got back, I'm pretty…. Um, how you would say, 'kickass' in some. I decided to try out some of those moves. I ended up destroying a trash can."

"Oh?" Dean grinned, grateful Cas found something to talk about before he had to.

"Yes. But then I practiced a bit, and now I'm much better at controlling my strength." Cas smiled.

"Well." Dean smacked his hand down on the table. "Let's see those moves then." Any excuse not to sit there overanalyzing every little reaction of his body.

Cas followed him out the back alley door. Two men smoked cigarettes a block away, and three dirty lamplights spotlit the dusty back road. Cigarette butts crunched under the heel of Dean's boot as he walked several paces away from the door, out in the middle of the alley, and turned to face Cas.

Cas looked like he used to for a split second- solemn, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Then Cas wasn't there anymore and Dean was pressed against the wall by a hand to his throat. Dean gasped because Cas's body pressed against him too, his chest against his, his knee parting his legs-

Dean ducked out, and if Cas was using all of his Angelic strength he sure as hell couldn't have, but Cas let him go and when Dean spun to face him Cas came at him again through that Angel teleportation thing. Dean balked at the fist heading towards his face, but then twisted right at the last moment to avoid it. He threw a punch at Cas, and Cas caught it in his fist easily, grinning at Dean. Dean grinned back as Castiel let his fist go and backed up a step into a mischievous stance of 'come and get it'. Dean realized that Cas found this fun. More surprisingly, so did he. Without the blistering pain that usually accompanied fighting, it was actually kind of enjoyable. He had never seen Cas playful before- they were always worrying about something, and Cas was usually at the forefront of that worrying.

Dean stepped forward, trying to sideswipe Cas and knock him on his ass in one swift motion, but Cas was too fast for him and before he knew it Cas had him in a headlock from behind, charging forward to press him against the wall. Dean hit it with a grunt, but it didn't really hurt. Cas was overly gentle with him.

"Got you."

Cas' breath on his ear, his body molded to his and pressing tightly against his ass-

He ripped Cas' arms from him and pushed off from the wall, backing away.

What was that?

What just happened?

Dean found himself panting and staring at Cas, while his mind exploded from the fact that he was still goddamn hard.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean was wearing stiff jeans, so he doubted Cas could tell what he had just done to him, but he spun away from him all the same, resting a hand on his hip and catching his breath as his thoughts raced through what had just happened. Cas must have seen the change in his attitude before he turned because he kept his distance in the quiet.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No." Dean choked out. "No, I'm fine."

"Then let's go again."

Dean glanced over his shoulder.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on…. wuss."

Despite his spinning mind, a smile twisted his mouth.

"What did you just say, you little shit?"

"You're scared of me, huh? Pansy ass." Castiel taunted again, a lighthearted grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. Dean considered him, and he felt such a surge of affection for Cas, teasing him with names he must have learned from Dean himself, that in that moment some of his intense frustration with Sam and his damn insistence fell away. Maybe he could, possibly, be right. Maybe he felt something more than friendship for Cas. It was such a fine line, though, for him. He really couldn't quite tell what it was.

Only one way to find out.

Cas got such a look on his face when Dean let a yell loose and charged that Dean almost laughed. But he kept his battle cry going until he barreled into the angel, who was too stunned to transport away, and slammed him up against the wall as he had done to him mere moments earlier. He was rougher with Cas than Cas was with him, but Cas could take it. Dean watched his eyes as he pressed into him, pressed his whole body against him, the lapels of Cas' trench coat fisted in his hands, his mouth inches from his. As he had expected, Cas' pupils blew out into wide black orbs, his deep, sea-blue irises mere rims. He felt Cas' hardness against his thigh, and he froze. It was one thing for Cas to tell him how felt about him, another to feel it and watch the effect of his body shiver through the angel. Dean liked the sight of it in an animalistic, primitive way. A coiling heat erupted in his stomach as he watched Cas' pupils blow out and a slight brush rose to his cheeks. A beat passed, then another.

Then Castiel reminded him that while he might be absurdly naïve about everyday human interactions, Cas is one of the fiercest soldiers at God's command. Even before he poured millions of souls into his power well Cas was killing angels left and right for Dean's sake and for the sake of what he thought was right. The angels voted him, God's favorite, to lead their rebellion against Raphael for a reason, not only because of his favor in their Father's eyes but because he was fierce and formidable in battle.
Cas pulled him the remaining few inches to his lips with a growl low in his throat. Dean let out a muffled yelp of surprise before Cas' hands trailed through his hair, roughly grabbing at the expanse between his shoulders and pressing him closer until there's no way Dean could escape.

Dean tried, in a brief moment of panic, to pull back, to deny it. He tried to deny his own surge of desire, but Cas in his sudden lust didn't hold his strength back and Dean couldn't compete with that kind of power. Dean was too close to think about it for long anyway, the heat and hardness of Cas' body driving coherent thoughts from his head. Cas' tongue against his, his thigh guided between his parted thighs and grinding against his undeniable erection, the possessive groan in his throat as he devoured Dean's whimpers and gasps, all of it chased his panicked thoughts from his head. Underneath it all, the most surprising, was the burning need to let Cas take control and mold him to the shape of his desire, to let go and give in to everything. He loved feeling so powerless in the angel's arms.

"Dean." Cas whispered as he pulled back finally, and Dean was boneless in Cas' ferocious hold on him. He felt like a rag doll in the jaws of a wolf that, with one jerk of his head, could tear him in two.

"Cas, let me go." Dean fought to keep his voice under control. Without the distraction of Castiel's kiss, those panicked thoughts pushed their way back into his head, displacing the heavenly contentment of being completely at Cas' mercy.
Cas released him, and as Dean backed off Cas' eyes drifted down his body to his groin. Dean blushed more than he'd ever blushed before.

"Dean?" Cas said again, and it was a hopeful question. He smiled faintly. "It seems you're ignoring your own advice."

Dean thought he couldn't blush more, but he was wrong. He didn't know what to say, how to handle this situation or his own body's response.

"Dean." Cas stepped forward until he was so close Dean could smell the faint scent of alcohol and the angel trademark of clean air. Cas ran his hands up his stomach, hesitantly at first, watching Dean's reaction. Dean's breath sped up and he couldn't move, frozen in his desire. He closed his eyes as the hands ran, more sure in their touch, past his chest and gripped his shoulders firmly. He trailed fingertips along Dean's jaw, much gentler than the rough kiss he'd dragged him into, almost reverently feeling Dean's skin. "You are so beautiful." Cas whispered. Dean's breathing was shaky. He felt vulnerable to Castiel and hard as he tried he couldn't close back up, couldn't deny that his touch satisfied a deep craving in his stomach that had been there for as long as he could remember. "I did not know you would— could— want me like this. God has truly given mankind a gift… This 'sexuality'…" Cas whispered, mesmerized by Dean's lips suddenly, "… explains everything I've been wanting since I met you." He finished.
Dean licked his lips, torn between the powerful need to let Castiel drag him back into a crushing kiss, and the necessity to take a step back, sort through all these new feelings and emotions that had taken him completely by surprise.

"Fucking faggots."

It came out of nowhere for Dean, who was lost in Cas' eyes with the decision still unmade, but it shocked him out of his head and back into reality. They were in the back alley of a bar. Cas was still caressing him, and the two smokers, who had been down the alley at the beginning of their play fight were standing a mere twenty feet away, one flicking his cigarette down and the other wrinkling his nose as he watched them. Dean knew that look from every demon and monster he'd ever fought- the look of someone gearing up for causing someone else pain.

Castiel was gone from his reach in an instant. He appeared behind the two, knocking their heads together and letting them crumple to the ground independent of each other.

"They'll wake up with well-deserved headaches." Cas said primly, wiping his hands on his coat as he surveyed his work.

Dean was shocked at how casually Cas absorbed the incident. He was sure that… he had wanted to protect Cas from something just like this. Cas seemed to notice his confusion.

"I am familiar with hate of all forms, Dean. Hate is where demons flourish, so I know its sources. I'm unfamiliar with the nuances of everyday life, not big picture problems. "

"Right." Dean muttered. Cas stepped around the two and circled back to Dean. Suddenly this was very real. Beyond the confusion over his surprising attraction to men, or maybe just Castiel Dean hadn't figure that out quite yet, they were crossing a line. This was Cas, his oldest friend, his most loyal and trusted ally. His past relationship history was littered with broken promises on both sides and fleeting passion that usually ended in an untimely death.

"Dean?" Cas asked, and he stopped farther away this time. Too far for Dean to feel his heat, taste his smell. Dean cleared his throat.

"Let's, uh, let's go back to the hotel."

The way he said it he could see Cas cooling off, shutting himself away. His open adoration simmered into that steady bare-scent of affection. They walked in silence, too far away from each other, back to the impala and drove to home for the night.

They settled awkwardly to sleep on the two twin beds, the three feet of distance between the beds a gaping chasm that haunted Dean in his dreams.

When Sam tapped hesitantly on the door, Dean almost rolled his eyes. If he and Cas hadn't ended up in a twisting embrace last night then he really would have, but turns out Sam had been partly right.

"Come in." you fucker, Dean added silently.

Sam's key twisted in the lock. He looked warily around the room like he was expecting to see it strewn with the bed comforter and hastily torn off clothes.

"Where's Cas?" Sam asked, and Dean could have sworn he heard disappointment there.

"I dunno. I woke up and he was gone."

"So you two didn't…"

"Goddamn it Sam, no." Dean frowned. Then he scratched the back of his head, briefly considering whether this was the worst idea he had ever had before deciding to do it anyway. "We kissed, though."
A smug grin broke out on Sam's face but, thankfully and surprisingly, he didn't say a thing.

"Alright, yeah, you were right." Dean admitted. "I might…" Dean was a grown-ass man. He'd killed so many demons and watched so many people die that he knew by now that there were far, far more important things than whether you preferred men or women or both. Still, it was a big change in how he viewed himself fundamentally and it was harder to get out than he thought it might be, considering. "I might feel something for Cas."

Dean could see the 'I told you so' or 'I knew it' on the tip of Sam's eager tongue, but he shot him a look to kill thoughts of voicing such things. Dean sunk back into the bed, lacing up his shoes.

"So were you completely bullshitting Mr. Smith? Or do you actually have some sort of information on the leviathans?"

"I was completely bullshitting about him," Dean rolled his eyes before Sammy hurriedly continued, "But I did find something out that might be worth looking into on my own. Where the hell is Cas? Are things weird between you two now?"

"That's not really the most pressing issue."

"It is if we need him and he's too hurt or embarrassed or whatever reason you two didn't end up banging it out last night-"

"Jesus Sammy."

"Look, Dean, you're great at picking up girls and, you know, leaving the next morning… but I've never really seen you try something like this with someone you-"

"Try what?" Dean swallowed hard. "There's nothing to try, Sam, not right now. We've got leviathan's so far up our ass they're coming out of our eyeballs. And beyond that, Cas only remembers half of his life. He's like a totally different person right now, what can I really 'try' on him? That would be like, I don't know, taking advantage of him."
Sammy was quiet at that, but Dean didn't particularly care for the pity in his gaze either.

"What, Sam? Just say it, I can't stand that look."

Sam sighed. He seemed to consider saying nothing before he finally decided, sat up and looked at Dean with resignation.

"Dean, I know you and everything you just said is bullshit. It all comes down to the same line you always spin- 'don't get attached, not with this job'. How many freaking times have I heard you repeat that? The sad part is that you've said it so many times, usually to me, that you actually believe you don't want it. But you do, Dean, you want it maybe more than I do, you've just denied it so much that you've convinced yourself of the opposite. If you're unattached, it's easier and you don't have to worry about hurting anyone. But Cas is different, Dean. You have a real shot at happiness here with someone who can handle our 'work'. That line doesn't apply anymore, and I think you're scared shitless without that excuse."

The breath Sammy released at the end of his little speech was that of a balloon hissing into a deflated heap.

Dean stood up, grabbed his coat, and shut the door behind him.

Chapter Text

“Dean, are you really still upset with me?”  Dean glanced over his shoulder at his brother for barely a millisecond before returning his eyes to the tv.  It was a slow night.  If they didn’t get some sort of tip off soon, and Dean didn’t get to whack the heads off of some leviathans before the month was over, he was going to go crazy.

“Dean.”  Dean could practically feel the puppy eyes on the back of his neck but he kept his eyes glued to the tv. “Why are you even watching Animal Planet?  You hate dogs, you’re allergic to cats- I can’t think of one instance where you’ve actually shown affection for an animal.”

“It’s surprisingly human,”  Dean grunted, squinting as a cheetah bolted past the screen.

“Then why do you hate them so much?” Sam grumbled.

“That’s the slogan- Animal Planet: surprisingly human.”  Dean clarified temperamentally.

He heard the small scoff but still didn’t turn to see it.

“Come on, we haven’t seen Cas in days; how are you doing?  Just talk to me, Dean.”

“Sam.”  Dean turned to face his little brother, who was lying with his head propped up on a pile of pillows and computer on his lap.  Sam looked up with intense interest and closed his computer, readying himself for a long talk, Dean supposed.  “Have you been growing your hair out so we could fill our nights with braiding it, and pillow fights-“

“Alright.”  Sam opened his laptop again with a small huff of irritation.

“-and fake tea parties?  The kind where you pour air for the dolls?”  Dean finished, miming the action.  Sam’s eyes were now the ones glued stubbornly to a screen.

All was quiet for a good half hour.  

“Hey, Cas?”  Sam said loudly and suddenly.  Dean jumped about a foot into the air, searching the room wildly for the angel but finding nothing.  He got to his feet to check more thoroughly.

Sam looked like he was trying to suppress his smile and failing.

“Castiel, you there?”

Dean growled low in his throat.

“Stop.”

“Castiel?”  Sam called again.  Dean did something he couldn’t entirely explain then, something he hadn’t done since he was in fifth grade and Ivan Eggorn teased him over his crush on Judy Vanhard in front of her:

he launched himself over the bed and onto his brother in an attempt to cover his mouth.

Sam hastily moved his computer out of harm’s way before turning to struggle away from the hand Dean almost had clamped over his mouth.

“What are you doing?”  A curious voice drifted to Dean’s ear.  Dean froze.  Sam scrambled up off the bed.

“We were just having a little disagreement.”  Sam panted.  Dean glared at him from the bed, mostly so he didn’t have to look at Castiel.

“And you settled it with wrestling?” Cas squinted at Sam and tilted his head to the side.

“Best way to settle anything.”  Dean said briskly, rolling off the bed and trying to recover some of the tatters of his dignity. 

Cas considered him with a flurry of mixed emotions before resting his gaze on Sam.  Dean felt his face grow warm.

“You needed something, Sam?”  Cas asked with very little of the usual intensity or exhaustion that usually accompanied his ‘what the fuck did you interrupt my serious business for’ inquiry. 

Sam almost, almost, looked like he didn’t have anything to say to that. But then that brief panic smoothed over into practiced calm and he spouted off-

“We have a case.”

“Oh, we do?”  Dean said, not even bothering to hide his disbelief.

“Yes, we do- a djinn infestation two towns over.”

“And you require my assistance for this?”  Cas said, eyes narrowing. “This sounds like everyday hunter business.”

“Well, it is,”  Sam sputtered.  “We just figured, you know, with you having been kind of, uh, kicked out of heaven… you might want something to do. Besides, things seem to go a lot swifter with angel firepower on our side.”  Sam finished quickly, eyes darting briefly to Dean’s murderous stare.

“Alright.”  Castiel shifted on his feet.  “Shall we get going, then?”

“Yeah.  Absolutely.” Sam looked pointedly at Dean.  Cas had avoided looking at him so far, except for that first confusing glance, but now he shyly shifted his gaze to Dean. He already had a hand resting lightly on Sam’s shoulder.  Dean huffed once, his heart speeding up a bit, before he walked within Cas’ reach.  He felt the hesitancy in his light touch right before the scenery shifted. 

 

 

“Sammy, stay with me.  Sammy!”  Dean slapped the side of his face frantically as his brother sagged in his arms for the second time that night.  He had caught the blue-armed bastard that poisoned him, injected him with the blood, but he only woke up for half a second before passing out again.

“Cas, do something!”  Dean called.  Cas was still dueling the remaining pissed-off djinn.
“It didn’t work?”  Cas grunted as he blocked a hit from the monster.

“We’re losing him! It didn’t work!”  Dean’s voice was a growl of panic now.  No way was his brother going to die from a freaking djinn.  No way had he survived Lucifer, Hell and the apocalypse just to die now from some blue-armed fucker that Dean could take out in his sleep.

“I can’t heal him.” The edge of panic there was unmistakable.  Dean’s heart plummeted into the ground. “What do you know?”  Cas snarled as he gained the upper hand and slammed the djinn’s face into a hard brick wall.  The sickening crunch of a nose breaking filled Dean’s ears, but it wasn’t enough.  He needed answers and he needed them now.  Sammy had moments left and that was it.

“I will rip your head off.”  Cas growled, and Dean knew it believed him.

“My- my brother.  We poisoned him together.”  She gasped.

Dean scrambled for the syringe still sticking out of Sam’s arm.  He stabbed the dead djinn a few feet away before speeding back to his brother’s side and plunging the syringe into a large vein on Sam’s arm.

“Come on, Sammy, don’t you dare die on me.  Not now.”  Dean muttered under his breath.  He heard Cas rip the creature’s head off behind him, making good on his threat despite the creature’s answer.

Moments passed where Dean prayed reverently to he didn’t know who or what.

Sammy let a wet gasp go as he started to breathe again. Dean pulled him into a fierce hug.

“Don’t do that! Damn it, Sam!”  He muttered into Sam’s sweat-wet hair.  Sam was still gasping, but he grasped Dean’s arm with considerable strength.

“I’m ok, I’m alright.”  Sam panted.  “I’m fine, Dean.”

No thanks to me.

 

“Dean.  You should not be here.  Sam is looking for you.”  Cas’ voice accompanied his appearance by his side. Dean was on his fifth beer.  He couldn’t answer, mostly because Cas was right.  He shouldn’t be in a bar by himself at three in the morning.

“Have one beer with me, Cas.”  Dean said, managing not to slurr his words too badly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dean.  I think you should go home and get some sleep.”

“Just go, then, alright?  I’m a fucking adult, I don’t need a babysitter.”  Dean muttered.  He felt, rather than saw, Cas flinch.  In the silence following he had to make himself turn to see the pain on his face.

“Alright.”  Cas said softly, a low whisper, avoiding his eyes.  Dean’s hand shot out to grab him, almost against his will.

“I just- My first responsibility is to Sammy.  You have to understand that.”

“I do.”  Cas said, looking defensive.  “I have never asked for anything from you.”

“You don’t have to.”  Dean whimpered, the alcohol muddling his brain and breaking down his careful barriers. “I forgot about him, Cas.” His voice was wrecked and broken and he couldn’t hide it, not after that fifth beer.  “You’re all human-like now, an’ I saw how sick you looked after it dosed you, and I just completely forgot about Sammy.  He was watching my back and it was my job to watch his, but I was so worried about you-“ Dean drew in a sharp breath, the guilt cutting him off short.  He didn’t deserve the soft look of awe in Cas’ eyes.  He had abandoned Sam and Sam had nearly died and it would have been completely his fault.   

“It’s always just been the two of us. We looked out for each other.  Just us two.” It was so frustrating how beautiful Cas’ eyes were when he was trying so hard not to want him as much as he did.

“I understand Dean.  I didn’t mean to-“

“Your lips,” Dean interrupted him. “I hate your lips. They’re so distracting.”  Cas’ tongue flicked out to wet the bottom lip Dean was staring at.  He looked hesitant, his eyes darting everywhere but at Dean, a faint flush rising to his cheeks at Dean’s scrutiny.

Dean wrapped a hand around the back of Cas’ neck, stroking the soft hairs that gathered into his scalp, and pressed a finger to the line of his jaw to feel the very human stubble that had started there. Cas muttered something incomprehensible before Dean leaned in, wanting more than anything to taste those lips and see if they were as delicious as they looked, as he remembered.

He probably had the element of surprise because Cas let out a muffled groan as Dean sealed his lips to his.  He pressed his tongue against Cas’ and sighed as that warm, buoyant feeling filled him. 

“Dean.”  Cas whispered as Dean pulled back.  They were in the motel room now, and Sam was looking away like he’d witnessed a murder. “You need to sleep this off.”

“Son of a bitch.”  Dean sighed as he realized where they were.

“Do you know how worried I’ve been?  At least turn on your phone when you disappear for hours!  I thought some more djinn had kidnapped you, maybe you were already dead and I was too late.  I was looking everywhere.”  Spots of red had started high up on Sam’s cheeks.

“Oops.”  Dean glanced down at his phone and noticed the 90 missed calls from his brother.  He must have silenced it accidentally.

“Oops?!” Sam repeated, gesturing wildly.

“You’re better off without me.”  Dean mumbled.  “I almost got you killed.  Almost… almost forgot.”   He slumped into Cas’ side, suddenly very tired, and a strong arm gripped his shoulder to keep him upright.  It was very warm…

“Dean.”  Sam’s tone was softer now, more forgiving. “I didn’t die, and you were helping Cas after that monster poisoned him.  I don’t blame either of you.”

“Can’t-” Dean mumbled, but the world was darkening and it was so comfortable nestled into Cas’ shoulder.  “Can’t, Cas.  I have responsibilities.”

“Oh, Dean.”  Sammy’s exasperation was the last thing he heard before he drifted into the darkness.

 

Dean woke up with the mother of all hangovers. Also, Cas was on his bed, watching him sleep.

Dean jerked back, checking for clothes on both of them before his panic subsided into dull confusion. 

“Cas, what the hell are you doing?”  Dean muttered, scrubbing a hand over his eyes as the light pierced into them.

“Sam went to get breakfast,” Cas said instead of answering his question.

There was about a half a foot of distance between them on the tiny twin bed, and even that small distance was only because Cas was on his side.  

“Well, hallelujah.  Though I would be fine with just a bottle of aspirin to swallow down.”  Dean croaked as his head throbbed.

“I should probably let you suffer a little for what you did to Sam last night,” Cas sighed dramatically and reached out a finger to Dean’s forehead.  Suddenly everything was Technicolor and pain-free. “But you’ve already suffered enough for ten men’s lifetimes.”  He finished softly. 

Dean was caught in his hard blue eyes once more.  Cas sat up on the side of the bed.

“It was my fault, Dean.” 

Dean blinked a few times, adjusting to the complete lack of hangover, and scooted into a sitting position.  Someone had taken his shoes off, but he was still dressed in his clothes from the night before.  Well, morning before, really.

“I caused so much pain in heaven… I killed so many of my brothers and sisters… I’m afraid to go back and see what I’ve done.  That’s why I’m falling now.”

“But you said-“

“I know what I said.”  Cas’ gravelly voice was harsh.  He sounded like the old Cas, the one who liked to preach about good and evil and greater responsibility and God.  “I… lied to you so you wouldn’t worry.  I am losing my grace slowly, bit by bit.  That’s why I could not heal Sam yesterday and why I can barely heal you this morning.  I am turning human.  Soon I will be completely useless to you.”

Without knowing why, but with no thought as to why not, Dean moved closer until he was directly behind him and rested his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Cas leaned into the touch with a small sound of relief, hallway between a moan and a sigh. The sound sent a thrill of excitement through Dean.

“Cas… you have to go back.”

Cas looked like Dean had hit him.  Dean realized he should probably clarify.

“There is no scenario, past, present or future, where I would consider you useless.  Would you say the same of a war hero who was gunned down in battle?  Is he useless?”

“Dean.”  Cas’ voice ached with sorrow. “I am no hero.”

“You are a soldier.  You’ve done some… misguided things.”

“I slaughtered my brothers and sisters.”  Cas moaned, and the pain in his eyes was not something Dean could stand.  His hand was pressed to the side of Cas’ cheek in a second.

“Was your purgatory plan the best pig at the county fair?  I’ll be the first to say no.  But when you killed those angels… that was all on the leviathans.  They were poisoning your mind, Cas.  I could see them in there, working away at you.  You didn’t have much control over your actions at the time.”

“Don’t make excuses for me.” Cas groaned, covering his face and moving away from Dean’s touch. “I used my own hands, my own blade.”

Dean gently unfolded Cas’ fingers from his face, and Cas gazed steadily into his eyes, deep sapphire jumping between forest green.

“Falling is not always a fast, hard plummet from the heavens to the dirt.”  He mumbled, and the pain in his voice was receding to awe as he tentatively stroked Dean’s lower lip. “Sometimes it’s slow and steady as the sound of a human’s heartbeat.”

A shiver raced down his spine as Cas stroked the sensitive skin of his lower lip.

Something flared in Cas’ eyes and Dean felt the same thing rise up in him.  Somehow they were kissing again, fast and wild and desperate, because God, Dean needed it.  He needed the rush of comfort in his stomach as Cas gasped into his ear and bit at the lobe, the sense of peace that settled in his chest as Cas pushed him back and climbed onto his lap.  They were going after each other like animals, and yet Dean had never felt so calm in his life.  

A hum of pleasure passed his lips and he held Cas to him, clutched at the knots of muscle in his back and pulled him closer, closer until he couldn’t breathe anything but Cas.

They stayed like that for a while, kissing and moaning and whimpering into each other’s mouths. Eventually the flame died down until Cas pressed his forehead against Dean’s, panting and staring him down with that look of his.  Eventually his eyes began to droop and he rested his cheek against the side of Dean’s neck.  Dean liked the weight of him, liked how he could feel him breathing softly against his shoulder, his chest pressing against Dean in a slow rhythm. It had been so long since he’d touched another person like this, and he’d never touched another person quite like this, not even Lisa.  He’d loved Lisa, as much as he thought his jaded, broken heart was capable of loving another person, but he’d never just listened to her breathe while she slept.  He thought about gently rolling Cas to the side, tucking him in like Cas had done for him and watching him sleep for a bit. He would have to leave before he woke up because he couldn’t have him knowing that he wanted that, not yet. 

 

Dean was out burying the two djinn when Cas appeared, bleary-eyed and combing a hand through his rumpled hair.

“You hungry?”  Dean panted as he rested on his shovel.

“Yes.” Cas mumbled. “Still tired, too.”

Dean had to hide a smirk.  Cas wasn’t exactly handling the transition to humanity gracefully.

“I think-” Cas squinted at him and sniffed quizzically. “I think my clothes… are starting to smell…”

“I think you’re right.”

Cas drifted closer, but when he tried to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder, Dean backed away. Cas tensed, eyes filling with hurt before they cleared into a carefully neutral mask.

“What?”

“Look,” Dean swallowed hard. He didn’t want to talk about that morning.  He didn’t.  He had to, but he would give anything not to.  “What happened this morning… we both needed it. But this-” Dean gestured between them, avoiding Cas’ eyes and focusing on the ground as he did. “-this can’t go on, Cas.  Sam needs me, and I need you to get your memories back, and we need to figure out this crap with the leviathans.  We can’t- I can’t lose my brother because I’m too focused on… on whatever it is we have going on.  That’s all I’ve ever been good for, protecting Sammy, and I don’t want to have to tell you that you’ll always come second, because you will.  You deserve someone who puts you first, who can put you first.  I’ll help you any way that I can as a friend, but what happened last night… it can’t happen again.”

Cas was silent, his expression shifting from restless, raw pain to unrestrained sorrow. Dean faltered on every word when he saw tears actually start to shine in Cas’ eyes, but he pushed himself to keep going until the words were tumbling quickly out of his mouth and he just wanted it done, over.  As he went on, Cas darkened.  He narrowed his eyes and the tears dried before they fell.  He clenched his fists at his sides and waited for Dean to finish before he hissed out in his low voice-

“Do you really think it’s your place to tell me who I can love?” Dean couldn’t help the shudder of desire that passed through him at the fury in Cas’ voice.  He found himself backing up as the angel stalked toward him, tripping and falling on a clump of dirt he had yet to pat down with his shovel.

Cas didn’t offer to help him up. Instead, he glowered down at him,

“You think you can tell me I deserve better than you?  After everything I’ve done to show you how much you’re worth to me?”  He spat.  His eyes were starting to glow.  Actually, all of Cas was glowing, faintly at first and then stronger until Dean had to shield his eyes.

“Then you use Sam as an excuse?” Dean let out a whimper against his will as the hot light started to burn into his skin, and especially his eyes.  The sound wrenched Cas from his livid trance and the light started to die down as quickly as it began up.

Dean heard Cas laboring to breathe, as though whatever that white light was had exerted him more than he anticipated it would.  He looked sick and pale when Dean finally chanced to look at him.

“Bite me, Dean.”  He spat out before disappearing.

“Cas!”  Dean cried, the silence eerie in the wake of the strange ringing that accompanied Cas’ glowing.  His voice was a bit more broken than he could explain. “Cas!”  

Chapter Text

Cas didn't return the next day, or the next, or the week after that. After his worry overcame his fear and rabid guilt toward the angel, Dean prayed to him every day to return.

They plugged a Japanese alcohol demon, which was, admittedly, the most sloshed Dean had ever been on the job and it kind of took the edge off. They took care of an old ghost hotel, and Dean had a chance to talk to Bobby again. Though it concerned him that Bobby hadn't gone into the light yet, Dean was glad nonetheless to see his mentor's face.

"Idjit. Think I don't know what you and your angel have been up to?" He revealed indelicately. Dean blushed up to his ears. "You've got to get over it, son. Just let it go. Love like that… well, it's not just something you can buy in a convenience store and return because you kept the receipt. Shape up, boy. Don't give me another reason to go vengeful spirit on your ass."

Bobby tried to joke, but Dean couldn't hear it as a joke when Bobby was already headed down that dark path.

Dean would lie awake at night and pray, quietly, to Cas. He would whisper that he's sorry, that he shouldn't have pushed him away like that. He got angry sometimes and accused Castiel of punishing him, making him worry so goddamn much without bothering to let him know he wasn't leviathan lunch.

---

It wasn't until the fiasco with the tablet and prophet kid that Cas finally re-entered Dean's life, and in the worst way possible, too.

Meg found them somehow. Dean was eating fucking rabbit food with Sammy in the goddamn park like lunching old ladies, after the leviathans finally released their poisonous additives into the population and he had no choice in the matter, when she made her appearance.

"Mighty fine day for a picnic, boys."

"Mighty fine day for some demon slayin'." Dean replied cheerfully, gripping his dagger tight at his waist where it was concealed beneath his coat.

"Oh, I wouldn't kill the messenger before she's delivered her goods." Meg grinned at him. She was a dark shadow against the bright sky from Dean's low standpoint on the grass.

"And what's the message?" Sam asked.

"I've got something you want. I'll be more than happy to turn him over to you… but I'm a freaking demon. I'm going to need something in return."

"He? He?" Dean jumped up off the ground so fast he dropped his banana. "Tell me where he is now or I swear to God-"

"Settle down chipmunk, what I have to bargain is easy to give. I need your word you won't kill me. Also, your allegiance. Temporarliy."

"I will kill you if you don't tell me where he is in the next five seconds." Dean's voice was shaking now. He knew there was something wrong. Cas wouldn't punish him with the silent treatment.

Sam grabbed him and stepped between him and Meg.

"Just wait, Dean. Why do you want our allegiance?"

"You think pissing off the King of Hell wins you friends? In hell, where no one knows the meaning of the word to begin with?" Meg drawled, eyes darting between the brothers. "Look, you're the only ones with balls big enough to try to chop off his. I'm not free until he's gone. It's an organic process, sweet cheeks."

"Fine. Whatever you want. Just bring us to him." Dean grit out through his teeth.

"We can't guarantee allegiance, but we won't actively plot against you if you continue to be friendly with us." Sam added.

Meg eyed him.

"Well, that's pretty piss poor but it's probably the best I'll get and I really want to kill Crowley. I've got your angel stashed in my trunk."

Dean bit out some curses that caused Meg's eyebrows to shoot up and a mildly amused smile to flit onto her face before she turned without another word. Dean stalked after her, fingering his blade with longing.

Meg stopped at a car she must have stolen, navy blue with darkened windows and new tires. She popped the trunk and there was Cas, curled into the fetal position, staring blankly ahead.

Dean spat out a few more curses then and immediately reached in to haul Cas out. Cas didn't help much, only moving the way Dean directed him to, with that same sickly blank look on his face. His skin was greyer than Dean had ever seen it, and he didn't seem to register Sam or Dean's presence. He stood fine on his own, once Dean got him standing.

"What did you do to him?" Dean checked Cas' temperature and felt his clammy cheeks, alarmed by the dead look in his eyes and the sickly color of his visage.

"I didn't do anything to him. He's been eating the people food. Guess he missed the memo on that when you two were busy being bad friends."

"No he watched the news with us, he knew this was coming. He knew." Dean said quickly to Sam, confused.

"Couple of demons nabbed him and were on their way to Crowley. Lucky for you I still have connections, if reluctant ones, and I heard they'd captured Clarence here and rescued him."

"Then stuffed him in a trunk." Dean muttered, irked by her portrayal of herself as a hero.

"He's an angel. I'm a demon. Easy way to get fried, letting your guard down around one of them." She defended herself coolly.

"How long has it been since he last ate the additives? Will it be out of his system soon?" Dean couldn't keep his eyes off Cas. Even the color of his hair seemed to have diminished in the weeks since he'd seen him. It was a muted, mousy brown and it scared the shit out of Dean.

"Well…" Meg said.

"You've been dosing him." Sam concluded, narrowing his eyes at her with a look of disgust.

"I repeat- angel, demon." She pointed to Cas and then to herself. "I had to keep Clarence docile so he wouldn't try to smite me."

"Fuck you, Meg."

"Yeah, you're welcome for saving your buddy and hand delivering him to you." Meg said, unfazed. "Jeez, what's up his butt?"

"Well, 'don't mess with Cas' is rule number one." Sam said, his eyes flicking between them. Dean waved a hand in front of Cas' eyes; nothing.

"Epic bromance, huh? You jealous?" Meg quirked an eyebrow. At Sam's silence, Meg grew disappointed. "So it's like that, is it? Too bad. I was hoping for a tumble in the sheets with Clarence once his noodle cleared up. He's pretty cute when his eyes aren't as empty as the pits of hell."

A snarl rose unbidden from Dean's mouth.

"I wouldn't count on it." Sam said with a slight smile.

---

Well, Dean was in a mood. He was done. Done with dealing with crazy shit while worrying about his best friend and possible love interest, especially when every plan they had fell to hell. They were taking a weekend before leaping back into this goddamn impossible fray.

They arrived at the cabin with Meg complaining loudly about the need for a demon trap under her bed. Sam was in full bitchface mode, as Dean had let him argue with the obnoxious demon for most of the ride.

"You sleep in a Demon Trap or we dump you on the side of the road to find your own place to sleep."

"You realize I have no problem slitting the throat of some apartment owner for a bed, right?" Meg looked irritable. "God it's like you forgot I'm a demon."

"You must have forgotten that we're hunters." Dean spoke up for the first time in over an hour. "This truce isn't that stable, scum. You threaten innocent people and we will still end you."

"I just want to be able to get up to pee in the middle of the night, alright?"

"We'll give you a bucket." Sam's voice was iron.

Meg rolled her eyes in turn, but she turned her eyes to the window.

"Meg." Cas muttered, staring out his backseat window. Dean straightened from the slouch he'd sunk into listening to Meg's whining.

"Did he just say something?" Dean asked Sam urgently.

"I think so. What's up Cas?"

"Meg is... a demon." Cas muttered again, slow, like he couldn't quite process his own words.

"That's right, Cas. You starting to recognize people again, huh?" Dean might've said it too brightly, but if Cas was talking without a prompt it must mean that those Leviathan additives were wearing off and that thought caused Dean's heart to roll over.

"Meg." Cas repeated.

---

All was still in the cabin. Cas was tucked into the guest room bed with a homemade quilt pulled up to his chin, Meg was safely snoozing above a Devil's Trap in the backseat of the impala, and Dean assumed Sam was off to bed on the couch. Sam had willingly volunteered himself for the couch before Dean could say anything, and Dean tried not to think too much into that and where Sam expected him to sleep.

Dean shut off the water as he zipped his toothbrush in his travel bag, his thoughts on Kevin Tran and how they were going to rescue the poor bastard.

Cas' flat blue eyes kept intruding on those thoughts, though.

Dean checked to make sure Sam was still asleep before creeping to the bedroom where Cas was sound asleep.

He looked less like an emotionless wreck with his lifeless eyes closed in sleep. Dean had seen sullen Cas, sarcastic Cas, eager-to-please Cas, angry Cas, and, on the rare occasion, happy Cas, but Dean couldn't remember a time when he'd seen Cas so damn peaceful.

Maybe Dean should try some of that Leviathan additive for sleeping when this was all over.

Dean found himself drifting into the room, hand trailing along the pretty red and gold quilt and up to Cas' scratchy, stubbly cheek.

"I thought you'd died on me again." Dean whispered, stroking his thumb along the planes of his face.

Dean had a hard enough time hugging his own family. He always wanted to show more affection, but it just felt… weird. Wrong, somehow. Maybe because he wanted touch so desperately that he was afraid someone might recognize that.

Whatever it was that usually held Dean back, it held him back now. He wanted to climb under the covers and hold Cas until he woke up, hopefully more like himself than he'd been today. Meg mentioned something about Cas still being partly Angel, that the additives wouldn't affect him for as long as a normal human.

However long it would take, Dean wasn't that patient.

In the end, he won out over himself. He did climb into the bed. He did, if awkwardly, wrap his arms around Cas and listen to the other man breathe steady and slow. He tucked his chin, tentatively, along Cas' shoulder and inspected the curling hair behind Cas' ears, stroking it briefly just out of pure curiousity as to how it would feel, before his eyelids drifted farther and farther down and Dean couldn't hold them open any longer.

---

When morning light peaked through the faded curtains, Cas was already awake and (surprise surprise) watching him. Dean didn't jump nearly as high or as quickly as he had in previous situations where he'd woken up to Cas watching him.

"You slept with me." Cas said simply. His eyes were still a little hazy, but sharper than the day before by far. His coloring, overall, had improved from its previous greyscale.

"Yeah. You scared the hell outta me. Had to make sure you weren't goin' nowhere." Dean mumbled, wanting to curl back into the first sound night of sleep he'd had in weeks.

"You said nothing more should happen between us." His intense eyes never left Dean.

"That was before you went and got yourself kidnapped." Dean sighed, aligning his body more comfortably next to Cas. He hoped Cas would let it go. He really didn't want to talk about it.

"So," Cas' forehead crinkled in confusion, "you want to be together now?" The hesitant hope and defensiveness in Cas' voice made Dean shiver.

"Yeah." Dean stared hard at the tendons in Cas' neck. "Yeah, I guess so." If the alternative is not to have you at all. "If you still want to, that is. I know I was a dick to you." Dean chanced a look at Cas' face, but he couldn't read anything there. He decided to just surge forward on the off chance that Cas would still accept his sorry ass. "But Cas, don't… don't expect too much out of me. I'm not good at this. I don't do… feelings. I don't talk about… well, this stuff." Dean huffed, already feeling unbearably awkward. He kept remembering the hole in his heart when Cas left, and he couldn't let that happen again; so he would push through it, say the words Cas needed to hear, and try. Dean could try. "It really sucked when you were gone, and I don't want that again."

"I have been gone before, Dean." Cas said gently, twisting in Dean's arms until their chests were pressed together and the full heat of Cas sunk through him. He was like a radiator on such a cold morning. "You never had any epiphanies over our relationship."

"I didn't know I wanted a… relationship… then." Dean said quietly.

"So you do?" Cas asked again.

"Dude, don't make me repeat it." Dean felt like burrowing into Cas' shoulder, but that would be way uncool. So he just sort of awkwardly looked awkward and avoided Cas' eyes while a small smile started on Cas' lips. Dean hadn't seen that smile before. "You have to… I can't talk about this stuff, ok? That's just part of the package. Sorry Cas." Dean said. He was not blushing. Dean Winchester didn't blush.

Cas draped an arm over Dean's side, rubbing soothing circles into his side through his shirt. Cas snuggled closer, their faces impossibly close now. Dean could feel his breath on his cheek, but still Cas didn't kiss him. He just looked, looked over everything that Dean was, every freckle.

"Dude." Dean was not blushing.

"You said no talking. I'm not talking." Cas grinned, full on grinned, at Dean, but then it faded to actual concern. "Does it bother you?"

"No." Dean said, dropping his gaze. He felt Cas smile more than he saw it.

"I missed you too, but I always miss you so that was nothing new for me." Cas whispered, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Dean.

Dean didn't have anything to say to that so he just closed his eyes and tried to ignore how weird it was that he and Cas were being fucking romantic.

"You say 'dude' a lot when you're uncomfortable." Cas observed sleepily. Dean opened his eyes briefly as a smile of exasperation hit him. Even though it made him mildly uncomfortable, he was equal parts happy and comfortable.

Dean could try.

Chapter Text

"Well, isn't this cute." Meg's drawl rudely awakened Dean. Dean lept up, his hand reaching under the mattress for the dagger he'd hidden there. No way was he sleeping in the same vicinity as Meg, Devil's Trap or not, without a weapon within reach.

"In case you two lovebirds forgot, that Asian kid is still in the leviathan's lair." Meg was watching them a little too closely.

"Get out." Dean snarled.

"I'd have to agree with Dean." Cas sported a bitchface to rival Sam's.

"Just pointing it out. Can I also point out that I'd love to watch if you two ever-"
"Out. Now." Dean really considered throwing his knife.

Meg tossed a snarky grin over her shoulder as she swaggered from the door. Dean leapt up and closed it, just barely managing not to slam it, before turning back to Cas. Cas watched him, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

"Dean."

Dean returned to him, every step a heavy thud in his ears. Dean was good at this part. He was smooth. He didn't hesitate when he knew what he wanted. He was a wreck when it came to the emotional side of relationships, but he'd seduced so many girls he'd nearly lost count.

Unfortunately, seducing men was new territory, even though he told himself it was the same where it counted. He felt like he was 15 in the closet by 2nd period with Pamela Martin again.

Dean slid back under the covers where Cas was, for a lack of a better word, hiding.

"Hey."

The heat between them was at once too much and not enough.

"Hey."

Cas' thumb tentatively stroked at his stomach, rippling shivers along the muscles there. Dean though dazedly that he was skipping a few steps when he hooked his hand in the waistband of Dean's boxers.

"So… I guess we should get going." Dean wasn't totally sure what was coming out of his mouth. His heart was beating too quickly and Cas was looking at him like he was the king of everything again and Dean wasn't prepared to deal with that kind of… idolatry. Not when he really didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

"Oh." Cas didn't hide his disappointment. He drew his hand back and Dean felt a physical ache at the loss of it.

"I mean-"

"I know what you mean, Dean." Cas frowned, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. "There's a prophet in danger, right? I can feel it. I can feel for the first time in weeks. I can't believe how long I was wandering, half awake and half asleep."

"Cas, just wait."

Cas paused. Dean reached a hand out and pulled gently at Cas' shoulder until he turned to face him, still unable to hide the disappointment in his eyes.

"Tell me about what happened to you."

Cas sighed and, almost reluctantly, sat back against the pillows, throwing his legs back up onto the bed. Dean scooted closer but not too close to touch.

"I was alone and the hunger… it was so much. It's still new to me. I didn't think about the additives, and then I wasn't capable of thinking about anything anymore. I was just acting on instinct, consuming more and more when I was hungry. I remember the demons, barely, and Meg… and then you. I could see you but I couldn't say anything."

"So you were in there." Dean propped his head up on his hand.

"I heard your prayers." Cas' magnetic blue eyes locked on Dean's. Dean tensed, heat rushing into his face again. He dragged a hand through his hair, words failing before they reached his lips.

"Thank you for worrying about me. Apologizing."

"Yeah, well… you scared the shit out of me."

"I know." Cas cuddled closer, more confident at the memory of Dean's desperation. Dean was blushing again. Cas had already seen sides of him that he'd kept secret from Sam his whole life.

Then Cas was massaging his lips with his and Dean wasn't sure what he was so nervous about. They were good at this kissing part; Cas was a fast learner. He wound an arm around Cas' waist and bit at Cas' lower lip until Cas moaned in response, a sound that went straight to his lower stomach. He edged even closer, pushing his hips into Dean's hips. Dean's eyes flitted open briefly at the feel of Cas' hardness against his upper thigh, the other man's legs threading through his.

Fingers were pushing at his shirt hem, skating up over his lower abdomen to explore his chest. Dean closed his eyes to the rush of adrenaline that accompanied being touched like this and suddenly Cas was on his lap, climbing Dean so he was looking down at him. Quite a sight it was: Cas' dark hair sticking up everywhere, lips parted, cheeks stained with excitement, his chest heaving with quiet pants. His other shirt was filthy so Dean had loaned him one of his last night and Cas looked normal and intensely vulnerable in street clothes, a huge turn-on at the moment.

Dean flipped them again, knocking some of the wind out of Cas as the angel's back hit the mattress. Something ignited in Dean, something primitive and animal, and he was shoving his hips between the other man's, grinding into him with a fierceness he hadn't been comfortable showing to any girl he'd been with. Cas yelped in response, which quickly turned into an incredibly hot moan that Dean caught the tail end of with his teeth. He pushed right back, rubbing himself hard against Dean like he could take whatever Dean could give.

"Don't ever do that again." Dean whispered between biting kisses against Cas' neck.

"I won't, I promise." Cas breathed urgently, holding Dean to him with iron strength.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight. You're impossible." Dean mumbled into Cas' collarbone, pressing more furious kisses down his chest. He felt the low rumble as Cas chuckled. "This is all very new to me." He whispered it into his hair, reverently cradling his head.

Irritated with fabric getting in the way, Dean stripped the shirt off his boyfriend and then holy shit Cas was shirtless and holy shit.

"Dean." Cas whined, tugging at Dean's own shirt.

"Yeah, yeah. Right." Dean was still reeling at how turned on he was by the sight of Cas half naked and falling to pieces on the bedspread. If he'd had any remaining doubts that he was attracted to men, this cleared those right up. A million tiny moments clicked- the locker room in high school, the way that cute waiter looked at him and his heart did a funny inexplicable thump thing, how he was 'curious' about gay porn (just curious, totally innocently curious), the few times he'd been hit on by dudes and felt an undercurrent of emotion he couldn't quite place- everything he'd been half aware of and completely unaware of at the same time. Dean was more than a little dazed by the fact that the person in front of him was someone he trusted with his every fibre and maybe if he'd never met him he would never have realized this about himself. Only Cas could make him feel safe enough to really look at that part of himself, buried deep and long.

He lifted his arms so Cas could divest him of his shirt and then it was Cas who was staring. "Dean." Cas whispered, putting intense emotion into the syllable. How did Cas continually break down years of stoicism and experience and make him feel like a stripped-down teenager?

"Jesus." Dean muttered against Cas' lips as he let himself explore the hard lines of the other man's chest, the smooth skin and hint of hair a new and wonderful sensation.

"Dean."

"That's right, Cas. Say my name, baby." Dean savored the sound, such frustration and excitement and affection and just Cas and everything Cas was to him and everything he felt for Cas.

Cas said his name a lot after that.

---

Dean wishes he could say it was more than just a frantic handjob on both their parts, and that Cas knew exactly what he was doing and the process was awkward free, but he's never been great at lying to himself. Burying things deep until they blow up in his face, sure. But lying?

Still, despite the awkward virgin stumbling on both sides, it was one of the best mornings Dean had ever had.

"I remember now." Cas said softly as Dean held him from behind and they let their heavy panting quiet into peaceful breathing.

"What?"

"The last few pieces I was missing." Cas twisted in his arms. "You made me whole again, Dean. Something about you… there are no holes to fill in my memory."

Dean recognized those sad, beautiful eyes when they turned to him. He wanted to scream no, no put them back, don't wreck this amazing thing we just made. Put away thoughts of betrayal and worldly destruction and guilt and worthlessness and all the demons and just be here, just now, warm and comfortable with heat pressed against heat and kiss marks all up and down your skin. Just be with me.

Instead he swept a hand soothingly along Cas' chest and asked,

"You want to talk about it?"

"No. I just want to be with you."

Cas always knew without Dean having to say.

---

"I took a long walk." Sam replied with what was obviously forced nonchalance when the two finally exited the bedroom and asked him what he'd been up to.

"You dragged her along too, right?" Dean was too engrossed in Cas to even remember the demon at the time, but now the thought of her listening in on what went down in that room nauseated him.

"I would never have guessed you'd like it so rough, angel boy." Meg leered, eyes glittering. Sam scowled, but Dean could tell he was flustered.

"She's joking. I dragged her along too. You owe me big, by the way. Two hours of her and I was reconsidering the purposes of that bridge a half a mile down the road."

Cas glanced at Dean, adjusting his shirt collar awkwardly. There was no need for it; Dean had made sure not to mark anywhere anyone could see. He was a fumbling gay sex virgin, but he wasn't a total virgin by a long shot.

"Jesus, Meg. That's… even for you…" Dean grimaced, unable to finish his own sentence. Cas was uncomfortable now and Dean really didn't want him to feel uncomfortable so soon after that amazing that. With Dean. Kind of a big deal. Kind of important. And here Meg was ruining the afterglow.

"Let's just get this over with so we can get her out of our hair, shall we?" Cas grumbled.

"Ouch, Clarence. That stings."

"We know what we need." Sam started. "It's just a problem of getting it."

"What do you need?" Cas asked, sitting down on the couch. With no reason to, but with no reason not to, Dean sat next to him. Cas snaked a hand through Dean's arm, holding tight. It felt good. Dean glanced at Sam, slightly embarrassed, but the only sign Sam showed that he noticed it was a slight smile on his lips.

"Blood, three types; fallen angel, King of Hell, and an Alpha."
"My blood should do. I'm not human yet, though I grow closer every day." Cas thought aloud. Dean brushed his knuckles over Cas', amazed that that was allowed to now. He could touch Cas all he wanted. Cas' ocean blue eyes fixed on him, seemed to unfocus, and then quickly settled back on Sam.

"Great but that still leaves two equally unwilling blood bags to puncture." Sam groaned.

"Isn't thinking your strong suit, Sam? Think. Research. Plot."

Castiel was such a sassy motherfucker sometimes without even realizing.

"Yeah, Sammy, put those Stanford brains to use."

"You two need to come down from cloud nine and join me in the land of 'we're screwed major league' already. I never thought I'd have to remind you, Dean, but this is really serious."

Dean blanched. Yeah, he'd had one of the best mornings of his whole life so he was a little overly-lighthearted. That didn't mean he couldn't recognize the gravity of the situation, he was just… it was impossible to push down how happy he was in this moment, no matter the reason. Not when Cas was sitting right next to him, subtly stroking the muscle of his bicep at an angle he was sure Sam wouldn't notice it.

Brilliant little shit.

---

Cas liked the way Dean looked at him.

Dean had a lot of expressions that Cas had carefully studied, and it was how he had become adept at human interaction, if he could praise himself so much. Cas watched Dean, and Dean was his compass for humanity.

Dean was exasperated with him a lot. He would go very still and his eyebrows would settle and then, after a period of time of staring, he would turn away or roll his eyes slightly. This was exasperation.

Castiel loved when Dean smiled. Whether it was at the end of or during a snarky joke that Dean told, because he liked to watch Sam's reaction, or whether it was truly out of joy, the results were very similar. Dean's eyes crinkled at the sides, and there was an impossible kindness in him that scratched itself through his rough demeanor in those rare moments.

Castiel had seen Dean cry. He was crying without tears when he found him in Hell, a lost, hopeless, self-loathing sort of crying. Angels were programmed to respond to crying. They were supposed to be the shepherds of the people, the helpers, as well as the soldiers. Dean introduced him to that feeling which Castiel found he greatly disliked and which defined him more than any other feeling; the need to help and mend and save. Dean would cry at night when he would remember Hell, and in his heart as he walked around for months and years after, the veins of pain still engrained in him. Castiel would come down when he could and cure Dean of the dreams, to quiet the wailing that never passed Dean's lips but which Castiel could feel all around him like a shrill, taught cocoon of pain.

There was one emotion that Castiel liked the most, and it was the one Dean fixed him with this morning as he stroked him to a human climax. He watched him, bracing himself above Castiel, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted in what Castiel could recognize easily as arousal. Castiel liked that emotion too, but it was the other emotion, the one that softened everything about Dean- his sometimes overly harsh attitude and use of curse words, his reluctance to talk openly about his emotions- and simultaneously melted all of Castiel's cool angel reserve and soldier-like mentality: love. Castiel could see it sometimes when Dean asked him for help and he helped, and when Dean didn't ask him for help and he helped, or even under the many times Dean appeared, on the surface, to be exasperated with him. No other human looked at him like that. Castiel liked very, very much that Dean did.

Castiel was unsure of the nature of that love for a long time, but he knew it existed. Dean didn't like to say things outright, but Castiel knew, and he had loved Dean too since he first heard his heart cry in Hell. He didn't realize that love was the word for what he was feeling for a long time, but he knew it's nature when he saw Anna kiss Dean and he wanted to be her, more than he had ever wanted anything in his long existence. And that brought shame and guilt down upon him because Castiel had been sure, so sure, that Dean could never want him the way he wanted Anna.

Castiel was sad for a long time after that. The other angels could feel it and they knew, though they didn't tell Castiel what it was. They said things like "too close" and "compromised" because the heaven outlawed romantic love between angels and humans, a love different from the platonic awe of gazing upon God's great creations. Castiel knew that awe, he had it alive within him for most people he met, so he knew his feelings for Dean were different. When angels wanted humans in that way, the way Castiel wanted Dean, nephilims were the result, and they were dangerous creatures.

But Dean was male, so even if Dean had returned his love, a nephilim child would not have been a possibility for them. Castiel thought the angels would understand and possibly forgive, grant permission, given the situation.

Not that he ever asked. It didn't matter; Dean wanted women, not Castiel.

Castiel couldn't feel too sad, though, because he had parts of Dean, and he gained love from Dean eventually, even if not the kind Castiel craved. He was able to protect Dean and help when he asked, and that was enough for Castiel.

If Castiel hadn't lost his memories, he never would have let Dean try to 'educate' him on his sexuality. He knew his sexuality all too well. Oh, did he know it. Unfortunately the holes in his memories included the moments he realized the nature of his feelings for Dean. So he went along with it, let Dean discover the secret he'd been hiding so well up until that point.

And Castiel thanked God for that.

If he hadn't then Castiel wouldn't have been able to discreetly follow Dean when he went to the bathroom, to wait outside the door until Dean opened it, and to push him back into the bathroom, up against the wall, and watch the moment just before he kissed him where the shock faded and there was nothing but affection in Dean's face.

 What a beautiful moment, completely worth a few months of amnesia.

---

"We're really going to have do something other than hand jobs at some point." Dean panted against Cas' shoulder, looking down the planes of his beautiful body that was currently covered in spunk. Luckily they'd had the forethought to get naked before cum became an issue.

"I would like that very much, Dean." Cas' voice was a low rumble of pleasure that moved through Dean much like his orgasm just had. Dean closed his eyes to the feel of Cas' hands roaming affectionately over his naked back.

"For one thing, they're twice as messy when there's two guys involved." Dean breathed, straightening once he felt his legs would hold him up on his own and tugging Cas over to the sink to wash him off. "It's lucky we're already in a bathroom."

"It's not luck. I figured that, logically, if I wanted to watch you as you climaxed I would need a way to clean you up afterward that wouldn't involve alerting Sam and Meg to our activities."

"Watch me as I—" Cas' eyebrows shot up. "Dude, no. Don't say that."

"But you're very beautiful when you're releasing on me; your head tilts back and your lips part and your eyes are only half open-" Cas was giving him a fucking demonstration and as hot as it was on him, it was still embarrassing as hell.

"Ok, stop. Stop that." Dean knew he was bright red now. "Wait," realization dawned on him, "are you teasing me?"

"It's likely." Cas purred against Dean's throat, nuzzling the skin there.

"I'm not sure how I feel about you figuring out how to do that." But Dean tilted his head back to give the almost human better access to his neck, and a proud smile flitted onto Dean's lips as he realized that Cas had finally pulled over on him what he liked to pull over on Cas. He wound his arms around Cas' shoulders and sighed as the angel mouthed reverently at the meeting point of his jaw and neck, up his cheek, to his temple where Dean finally turned and tilted his lips for a real kiss.

"Mmmmm." Cas murmured.

"Yeah." Dean agreed.

"We still need to get cleaned up." Cas rested his forehead against Dean's, eyes closed in an expression that Dean could only describe as bliss.

"I know." Dean liked to watch Castiel too, though he was more careful about it, less obvious. Maybe he didn't have to be anymore.

But when Cas opened his eyes and caught Dean, Dean remembered the other reason why he hid how he looked at Cas: it was embarrassing as fuck.

"Personal space, Dean." Cas grinned.

"Shut it, Cas."

 

Chapter Text

Purgatory was a little too close to Hell for Dean's taste.

Never knowing Cas' whereabouts was a different kind of Hell; constantly tense, forever worried, frustrated. There was very little sleeping in Purgatory, with the sense of being watched and hungered after always in the back of his mind.

He would pray every night, and every night he heard nothing in response his heart grew colder and he swung a little harder as he lopped off monster heads.

Dean learned his lesson when Cas disappeared the first time. He got over himself and gave into the terrifying, wonderful, whatever-the-fuck-it-was he felt for Cas. And what happened? Almost immediately after giving himself over, giving him the most vulnerable piece of himself, he lost him.

In Purgatory.

Maybe he was a little sharper, a little more merciless because of that fact. Maybe he could keep stride with Benny and his super-human strength through pure frustration and anxiety. That was a possibility.

Dean prayed. Then followed that prayer with quite a bit of colorful cursing. Followed by pleading.

The night grew tiresome and Benny nodded the ok for Dean to shut his eyes to the watching darkness.

Dean slept.

---

Dean didn't recognize the room he was in, but it was warm and soft and everything in Purgatory wasn't so he went with it and didn't question. He sighed, tipping his head back onto something cushiony. In real life, his head was resting on his folded arms right now, on the dirt and sharp twigs and other bullshit that made Dean miss the god awful matresses in even the roughest motels he'd camped out in.

The warmth of the room was crackling and stroking his cheek with flirtatious licks only a fire could produce. Oh, that was nice; Purgatory was cold, so cold sometimes. Scarborough Fair poured from an old record player, and Dean was surprised to realize he knew all the words.

Dean was so relaxed he couldn't even jump when the heavy weight of a hand dropped, gently, onto his shoulder. He was surprised, but there was also a part of him that was deeply unsurprised.

"Dean." Cas said with impossible tenderness.

"You asshole." Dean whispered, a whine of relief and love and annoyance.

"I know. I'm sorry." Cas' voice was a low purr that only served to soothe him further. Dean was a pile of bonelessness, helpless to Cas' increasingly confident caress.

"That's what all this is, isn't it? A fucking- you have to get me so relaxed I can't even move so I won't be able to kick your sorry ass."

"You remember?"

"Don't I always?"
"When you come to the dream world?"

"Yeah, that you visit me every night and then wipe my goddamn memory. Seriously dick move." He found himself pressing into Cas' touch as his hand travelled to his hair, sighing.

"Dean, you know I don't have a choice."

"You do. We can handle them together, Cas, you know we can. I've got monsters on me too, every second of every goddamn day."

"Not leviathans, Dean." Cas' arms encircled his waist and suddenly the angel was crouched between his knees, cheek pressed to his thigh in a gesture so exhausted and pleading that Dean felt all his frustration fly out the window. "I'm angel enough to attract them, but not angel enough to defend you from them. Even if I was at full strength I'm not sure I would be much of a match."

The hairs on the back of Cas' neck were impossibly soft, and he was so relaxed and so happy that he almost forgot Cas would be leaving soon, leaving him to another day of searching for him and not knowing whether he was alive or dead, never getting relief until he unwittingly rests his eyes.

"Just let me remember."

"No. You will plot and plan and argue. It's best this way. I'm tired too, Dean. I don't have much strength to work with."

"That's awfully selfish, Cas."

Cas raised his deep blue eyes to Dean's just long enough to whisper, "Hush now," and then he lowered them, resting helplessly on his knee like he couldn't move again if he tried. Dean was happy and relaxed, and Cas looked like he'd run a hundred mile marathon just to collapse onto his lap.

"Hey," Dean said softly, "take it away. You're giving me everything I want and you're exhausted. Help yourself, too, Cas; give yourself something."

"I am." Cas mumbled against Dean's knee.

"I don't want all this if you're going to look like that. You have nothing, Cas."

"You're wrong." Cas raised his head again, the movement that of a thirsty horse reluctantly dragging his head from a trough of water. "I have everything. Now shut up and take it."

Dean couldn't argue with that, so he took it.

The record faded into silence, popping and sputtering. Cold seeped in under the warmth.

"It's almost time, isn't it?"

"Put the record back on, Dean."

Cas sat back on his heels so Dean could rise and, feeling as though he was walking through warm molasses, replace the needle on the record. When he turned around Cas was drawing him in gently to what Dean thought would be an embrace. Cas grasped his hand and tugged Dean close enough to touch, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist. Then, when Dean was about to ask what he was doing, he started to sway in time with the music.

Dean's throat tightened as the lyrics drifted over him. There was more than Simon and Garfunkel on this record, of course, because none of this was real.

All of me

Why not take all of me

Can't you see

I'm no good without you?

Dean rested his head on Cas' shoulder, sleepier than he'd been before he fell asleep. A dream, just a dream.

You took the part

That once was my heart

So why not

Take all of me?

"What are we, two geezers in a retirement home?"

"Maybe, someday." Cas chuckled, his breath warm on Dean's neck as he placed a sweet kiss below Dean's ear.

Dean's next words caught in his throat at that and he had to squeeze his eyes shut.

"I won't forget." He whispered into Cas' hair. His hands knotted in his clothes, holding on for dear life. Cas was slipping away, somehow, he didn't know how, but he could feel less of him, and the scent of damp earth filled his nose.

I'll remember. I won't forget. I won't.

"I'm sorry. I may be useless, but that is one thing I can still accomplish. Sleep, Dean."

"I won't forget."

---

Castiel wasn't sure Dean would forgive him, but he couldn't live with the screams in his head. He needed to pay for the river of blood he'd loosed in Heaven, his brothers and sisters crying out in agony. He saw fields of their corpses when he closed his eyes, he saw blood on his hands when he layed them on a wounded soul in need of assistance. Castiel needed to pay for what he did.

He didn't deserve Dean, he didn't deserve to be happy.

He deserved Purgatory.

Maybe he'd find his way out someday, and maybe Dean would pull him out kicking and screaming one way or another, but for now, he had to stay.

But he knew Dean wouldn't understand.

"Buddy, I need you."

No, you don't.

"Let me bottom line this for you- I'm not leaving here without you."

I can't leave here with you.

I'm so sorry.

So when Cas clasped his hand on Dean's shoulder and said, "Thank you. For everything." It was in place of the apology he couldn't voice without giving his true motives away: make sure Dean makes it out safely without him.

---

"I did not leave you!" Dean yells, and he's so scared, so torn, that Castiel finds himself reaching out and grabbing him.

"So you think this was… your fault?"

Has he really scarred Dean so badly that he's repressed, twisted what happened in his mind into something he can blame on himself? What should he have done, what could he have done? His every decision brings pain to people, one way or another. But of all the people Castiel did not want to hurt, Dean was at the top of his list.

"You can't save everyone, my friend." Castiel whispers as he opens his mind to what really happened, how he shoved his hand away and ordered him to go.

All the color seeps from Dean as he gapes at Castiel.

"Did you- did you even think of me?" He sputters finally. Castiel winces at that, at the deep betrayal in Dean's voice. "Did you even think for a second what it would feel like to have you ripped from me and know it was your choice? Did you, Cas?" Dean stares at him a moment longer, disbelieving, and Castiel is too ashamed to meet his eyes. He hates himself. He hates the hurt in Dean's voice and most of all he hates the months of pain that Castiel had underestimated and now sees in Dean's eyes, laid bare and broken and so obvious Castiel couldn't believe he'd brushed the consideration away so easily.

Somehow, though Castiel had often physically saved Dean, he'd never felt that Dean needed him. Even when Dean crawled into his bed claiming that Castiel had 'scared the shit out of him', he didn't feel needed; wanted, sure, but not needed.

But Dean did, somehow, miraculously, need him. He could see it in the broken realization that Castiel had willingly abandoned him.

"Fuck this." Dean whispers and Castiel catches one last sliver of anguish before he turns and leaves him, leaves him in the cold just as Castiel had done to him.

---

Dean nursed a beer as he sat at the bar, moodily hunched over in the universal posture of 'leave me the fuck alone please and thank you'. This girl was not taking the hint.

It was not a good day for her to ignore the hint.

"Look, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I just had the shittiest day and all I want to do is get drunk and forget about it. I'm not here looking to hook up. Any other day I'd be all over you, but not today." Dean sighed finally, accidentally interrupting the girl as she talked about something, Dean couldn't say what.

"Yeah, I can see that. I'm trying to cheer you up." She said, not even missing a beat. She wasn't boring by any means, and she was definitely pretty. The fact that her eyes were light blue, a stones throw from dark blue, and her hair was dark and glossy like Cas' wasn't helping Dean to muster the needed meanness to drive her away. Plus, she was kind of sassy and spunky and reminded him of Jo too.

"Maybe I'd like to sulk a bit." Dean said, his mouth quirking up at one side despite himself.

"Doesn't mean you should." She grinned, still not put-off by his shitty attitude.

"Aren't there any actually interesting people you could talk to here? It's a crowded bar. You're an attractive girl. Talk to someone who appreciates that." Dean tried again, downing the last of his beer and calling for another from the bartender.

"Sure, but none that look like you." Her grin was charming- not really seductive but more playful and dangerous.

"Even though I'm straight-up telling you I'm not interested?" Dean raised his eyebrows as he popped the top of his beer.

"Even though." She swirled the straw around in her drink.

Dean had nothing to respond with. His chest was throbbing with a familiar ache he'd come to recognize as the Castiel Effect and it was very hard to concentrate on anything else. He very much wanted to feel pleasantly numb as fast as possible.

That fucker had willingly tossed him out of purgatory without him, knowing full well that he might never see him again. He chose to push Dean away. Literally.

The ache swelled.

Dean drank.

The girl was talking again.

"I have an idea for something that will cheer you up, but you have to trust me."

"I barely know you."

"I have a trusting face."

"Why won't you just let me be miserable?" Dean muttered, "It's such a simple request. I didn't ask for your personal assistance."

"Come on." She grabbed at his sleeve, that playful grin back on her face, and Dean groaned again as she pulled him from his stool.

"No, I think I'd rather just get drunk." Dean tugged his arm from her grasp. "That's plenty helpful in cheering me up. In fact, probably the only thing that does."

"Look, what if I promise I'll leave you alone if you just come with me for ten minutes?" She shrugs, coolly wrapping her arms around her body. "I can tell you don't want to talk about. I promise not to push. Just ten minutes, then you can get back to sloshing yourself out so badly you won't be able to walk home."

Of all the nights to get stuck with a do-gooder.

"Ten minutes." Dean shrugged, giving up.

The girl waved to her group of friends as they left, two of which were not-so-subtly ogling Dean and thumbs-upping her. Again, any other day Dean would have been ecstatic to be leaving with her and the added ego boost from her buddies would have been icing on the cake.

Right now all he felt was pain, pain that wasn't getting any duller.

She got into the driver's side of her Ford Mustang, waving Dean into the passenger seat.

"Come on."

"This doesn't look like it's going to take ten minutes." Dean hesitated at the door.

"Scout's honor." She made some hand gesture Dean didn't recognize. He pushed down his annoyance and climbed inside.

The bar was at the edge of town anyway, so it wasn't far until the wilderness started. She parked at the edge of the desert by the side of the road.

"Is this it?"

"Yup. Isn't it beautiful?"

Dean had driven through America five times over. He was past the stage where he could be overwhelmed with pretty scenery.

"Yeah, it's great. I did your thing, now take me back to my car." Maybe he'd just get a six pack from the gas station and sleep in the Impala tonight to avoid Sam's disapproving stare.

"Just hold onto your pants, skipper." She rolled her eyes. "My time isn't up yet." She nodded at the scenic view, urging Dean to look again. Dean sighed audibly.

A small herd of deer was picking its way across the desert. Dean hadn't noticed them before because he hadn't been looking. Now that he was paying attention, however, he saw a mother and a father, as indicated by the giant antlers, and three little fawns following behind. Two other deer were grazing nearby. The mother doe had her eyes on the children, watching carefully as they drank from a small oasis, scanning the area for danger, ears perked. The stag was frozen, head turned in their direction, daring them to make a move towards his herd.

"Aren't they sweet?" The girl whispered. "I see them out here every night around this time. The three babies play with each other. It's impossible to see them and not feel happier. They watch each other's backs, protect each other. They're such a close-knit family."

That was really the wrong word to use. The ache swelled to unbearable levels.

"Take me back." Dean's voice was gruff and uncompromising. The girl actually looked startled at the harshness of it.

"Ok."

Family.

They parked outside the bar but Dean couldn't move. The ache had paralyzed him. He closed his eyes, trying to get himself under control, trying to keep his cool.

She took that to mean something else.

She leaned over the space between them, gently tilting his face to meet hers. Dean was shocked at the taste of unfamiliar, feminine lips on his. The ache dimmed a little. It was nice, pleasant even, except for the gaping hole of guilt that tore itself through his chest at her touch.

She pulled back just a little, just enough to say,

"Sorry, I just couldn't let you go without one last try."

Dean felt his eyelids trembling, felt the tears waiting on the other side, and didn't dare open them for what would fall out.

Her lips were on his again, misreading his silence. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, a thousand memories of Cas rushing through his carefully blank mind.

"Cas."

He didn't mean to say it, really he didn't. It was more of a strangled choke that escaped his throat. She didn't seem to notice, too busy deepening the kiss to pay attention to the shape of his sounds.

A thump against the car tore her away from him.

"What the hell was that?" She hissed, looking around in a panic. Dean's hunter's instincts kicked in and he threw the door open, hand on the knife tucked inside his jacket.

He didn't expect to find his angel grabbing at the side door of the car, wheezing to catch his breath, sunk to his knees on the dirty asphalt with his head hung.

"I'm sorry, I have almost no power left. Even simple teleportation-" Cas panted hard as he forced out the words, waiting until he caught his breath before he lifted his sorrowful eyes to Dean's, "-is a harsh task. I heard you call for me, though, Dean, and I came. I'm so sorry, and I'm happy you called for m-" Cas broke off as he seemed to absorb the scene he'd interrupted. The girl from the bar (he still had no idea what her name was) had gotten out of the car too and was staring at Cas' crippled form. Dean knew there was guilt written all over his face, but he couldn't look away as Cas returned his eyes from her to him.

"Oh." Cas said simply, and both of them wanted to look away, ashamed, but neither of them could. It was torture, knowing he knew what Dean had done and knowing he didn't blame him he blamed himself, and knowing that Dean was now unbearably guilty as well as hurt and all he had fucking wanted was to drown out the pain, not heap more on top of it.

"I'm sorry, I misunderstood." Cas said to the ground eventually, tearing his eyes from Dean. "I'll leave you alone." But he couldn't stand. It had taken every ounce of strength for him to teleport to Dean's side and his legs wouldn't even move, though Dean watched him try. Dean had to loop an arm around his side and tug him from the ground, then support him as he limped to the Impala, all the while the humiliation and guilt settled around them, in their touch, and Dean wanted to crumple into nothingness just so he could escape that moment.

He didn't even look back at whatever-her-name-was.

Chapter Text

Castiel's heavy breathing filled the car. Dean's hand shook as he pressed the key to the ignition and missed the hole.

"So, what, we're over now?"

Anger, fear, sadness, guilt- Dean recognized everything in Castiel's tone in himself.

"You left me, remember?" He growled. "I spent a year looking for you in Purgatory and you pushed me through a portal so you could wallow in your guilt alone for eternity."

"I did not intend to hurt you as much as I clearly did." Castiel answered, terse.

"What part of me spending every waking moment searching for you gave you the impression you don't matter to me? That I wouldn't be-" Dean's throat tightened again. He was having trouble speaking lately, and it was Castiel's fault. "That I wouldn't be a wreck without you? That you could just martyr yourself?" He continued, his voice lower and softer and even. He would keep it even if it killed him.

"Oh, that's rich!" Cas turned in his seat, still pale and breathing unsteadily, but recovered enough that bright red spots of anger had risen to his cheeks. "Coming from the guy I find in bars drowning his problems every chance he gets. You aren't an alcoholic yet, Dean, but you're not far off."

Dean found through studious testing that the steering wheel was very sturdy.

"I don't know what else to do." Dean gritted out. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it, Cas. I'm not perfect."

Cas was quiet for a few breaths.

"Let's start over. Put this behind us." Cas sighed, sounding very defeated. "I won't leave you again, I promise you that."
Dean scoffed.

"Why not? What's to stop you from hurling yourself over the next cliff you find? Or maybe they'll need volunteers for the firing squad- I'm sure your hand will shoot straight up."

"You need me, Dean. I didn't know it then, but I know it now." Castiel said, voice low and gravelly.

Dean wanted to scoff, to deny it heartily and hurt Cas the way Cas hurt him, but Dean had never been good at lying and Cas would know which would somehow be more humiliating. Yes, Dean needs Cas. He needed him in Purgatory, he needed him before Purgatory, and he definitely needed him after Purgatory. Cas had let him down in two out of three of those areas, and Cas obviously didn't need him the same way.

"I could forgive you for keeping your distance in Purgatory, even though I shouted at you to come back until my voice was hoarse." Dean was angry about it, but he could understand it. "I could have gotten past it. But martyring yourself to your punishment in Purgatory… no. I don't think I can get over that."

Castiel regarded him with great solemnity, any anger on his face cooling away.

"Dean, I love you."

Dean swerved, narrowly managing to correct before he went off the road.

"What?"

"I love you. Please, I'm begging you to forgive me. I made a mistake. I underestimated my importance to you. Don't make me think I was right all along, that you can easily move on from me to some girl you talked to in a bar for a few minutes. Don't just toss me aside like that." It was said unnervingly calm, lacking much of the pleading quality associated with the words, but it hit Dean straight in the gut.

Guilt won out over the other emotions warring inside him.

"It wasn't like that, Cas." Dean's voice was more of a strangled cry. "Look, I didn't want to kiss her."

Cas inhaled sharply at the confirmation. He looked out the window abruptly.

"It doesn't matter."
"I said your name, I couldn't stop myself." Dean whispered. "She took me by surprise and it felt awful and the only thing I could think of was you. I should have pulled back, but-"

"But?" Too quiet.

"But you left me! You pushed me away, so why not? You don't want me anyway."

"You think I don't want you? That's why you did this?" Castiel sighed, impossibly patient with him. "Dean my greatest punishment for myself was pushing you through that portal." Cas said, his voice velvet.

Dean had to focus on the road or he was going to crash.

"I love you, Dean. I love you. Please. Forgive me my weakness."

"And you'll forgive mine?" Dean finished the unsaid, still skeptical.

"I made you think I didn't want you anymore," Castiel said. "That wasn't weakness, it was solace."

Dean was so done with this. He pulled over abruptly to the side of the road, turning to face this unbelievably frustrating angel head-on.

"Just fucking stop, alright? Stop being so nice to me. I should have broken up with you properly before I went macking with some girl. That would have been the decent thing to do. I'm a scumbag for what I just did to you, so tell me that for christ's sake! Tell me I've disappointed you. Get mad if you want to get mad! Don't try to take this all onto your shoulders when it's total b.s.. They're my actions, I own them." Dean was far too loud in this quiet car. The space was too confining; he needed to get out and walk and never stop walking. "Stop pussyfooting around my feelings, alright? I can take it-"

"You want me to say how I feel? No censor?" Cas asked, voice rising over Dean to cut him off with that tone of angel authority Dean instinctually quieted to.

"Yes." Dean croaked through suddenly dry lips, bracing himself. Cas looked scary intense.

Then Cas' lips were roughly pressed to his. A hand scraped at him desperately, pushing under his jacket and undoing his buttons with feverish need.

"I will never make you feel like that again." Cas gasped against his mouth, his whole body thrown against Dean's. Dean pressed against the window and the hard planes of Cas pressed against him. "I promise you," Cas kissed his cheek, his eyelids, the corner of his mouth in rapid succession, "I will never leave you like that again."

"Cas." Dean groaned as the angel claimed his mouth once more, a hand pressed to the back of his neck to keep him where Cas wanted him. It felt so good, so good. He'd missed him so much. He didn't want to be angry anymore, didn't want to hold onto betrayal and hurt. He didn't really want to be fighting with Cas right now.

Decision made, Dean held Cas to him fiercely, burying his nose in his shoulder as Cas kissed down his neck.

"Drive." Cas ordered, sitting back enough to allow Dean to follow his command but still close enough to draw Dean's earlobe between his teeth.

With difficulty, Dean drove.

---

Cas busted the lock on one of the empty rooms in the motel they were staying at before throwing Dean in by the collar.

"I've wanted this for so long." He breathed against Dean's skin as he tore his shirt from his body and kissed down his chest. "So long."

Dean could only tilt his head back and close his eyes, waves of pleasure rolling through him with every bite, lick and suck. It hadn't taken much to bring out the aggression in Cas. That first handjob let a tiger out of its cage. Cas didn't seem to have any of that awkward virgin insecurity. Quite the opposite, actually- he was pure, raw confidence in the sack, though Dean had no idea where it all came from.

Cas got him out of his pants just as quickly as the shirt, throwing him down on the bed butt naked.

"C'mere." Dean urged, holding his arms out as Cas fell into him. Luckily Cas wasn't wearing a stupid button-down like Dean (he was throwing every one of them out after this, even Cas' nimble and quick fingers weren't quick enough), and Dean was easily able to yank Cas' shirt over his head.

Then there was Cas' chest and all of its lean muscle and gloriously smooth skin that Dean wanted nothing more than to taste. It was surprisingly hard to concentrate on doing so thoroughly and unbuttoning his pants at the same time. Dean felt like he was moving in a hot sauna, his head fuzzy and warm, the air too thick.

"No time." Cas hissed, pulling Dean into a hot, open-mouthed kiss, stroking his tongue along Dean's. "Hurry, Dean."

A whimper surfaced from somewhere deep in Dean as he doubled his efforts on Cas' pants.

Finally.

Cas fell into Dean with a passionate kiss, moaning into Dean's mouth and tangling their tongues. Cas flipped him on the bed, pulling one wrist to the small of his back with firm, authoritative movements.

"Should I show you how much I want you, Dean?" Cas whispered in his ear, and Dean felt Cas' erection press against the cheeks of his ass, his thighs spreading Dean's obscenely. "Is that what you need?"

"Yesss." Dean gasped, his head thrown back by the pressure at the base of his back, arching into Cas' chest. Cas pressed heated kisses across his neck and shoulders while his free hand spread Dean's ass.

"…Lube." Dean managed to say through the heavy sensation of Cas massaging his opening.

"Fuck." Cas rested his forehead against the space between Dean's shoulder blades, settling into a tense stillness. Dean wasn't sure he'd ever heard Cas curse like that, but he was too goddamn horny to savor it.

"I have some." Dean realized dazedly. "My wallet. Got some… right after we started." He'd almost thrown it out when Cas stayed behind in Purgatory. God, he was glad he'd kept it out of some far-fetched hope.

Cas chuckled against his skin, his whole body relaxing against Dean's in relief. "That was very thoughtful of you."

Cas got up to dig through the pile of clothes and retrieve Dean's wallet. Dean watched his beautiful, lean form as he inspected the wallet carefully and withdrew a small packet of lube.

"It's not much, but it'll do." Cas frowned before returning his heated gaze to Dean, who was on his belly just as Cas had left him, watching him over his shoulder.

"God, you look…" Cas trailed off and started toward him, the hunger in his eyes making Dean's stomach clench in trembling anticipation. He watched Cas slather his fingers with lube, eyes dark as he stroked his finger suggestively before covering Dean's body with his.

Dean groaned in shock at the first press of Cas' fingers against his opening, gentle but firm.

"It's ok. Let me in. Stay relaxed." Cas murmured against his ear, his voice low and soothing. He rubbed a hand along Dean's chest to further comfort him.

"Ok." Dean panted, willing himself to accept the intruder. What a strange, new sensation. It didn't hurt, somewhat surprisingly, but Cas was careful with him. Cas worked him slowly, reaching and pressing until he found what he was looking for.

Dean moaned deeply and he felt Cas smile against his cheek.

"There it is." Cas whispered. Dean couldn't respond to the odd comment, the feeling of Cas stroking his prostate a little too much to form words around. Another guttural groan escaped him as Cas squeezed a second finger in.

"Love how you stretch for me. So beautiful." Cas muttered, biting the edge of his ear and pressing his wrist to the small of his back with more conviction.

"Unnh." Dean grunted as Cas spurred another wave of pleasure, trying not to feel embarrassed over the fact that Cas was watching his fingers disappear into him and commenting on it.

"God, Dean, I've wanted this since I first saw you kiss Anna, wanted you stretched around me and naked in my arms." Cas moaned against his shoulder, pressing his lips to his skin periodically as he fucked into Dean. "You- your soul, your body, all of it- so beautiful. I never dreamed I would get to taste it. I'm so sorry I made you doubt how I felt about you."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He was going to come. Cas was going to make him come without a single touch to his dick. Dean didn't even know that was fucking possible.

"Three now." Cas breathed, and Dean felt it. Felt that there was no resistance, he just opened for Cas, smooth and slick. Easy.

"Cas." Dean managed. "Cas, I need you."
"I know you do."

"C'mon, c'mon. I need it, Cas." Dean mumbled, his face burning hot. He felt exposed, emotionally even more than physically. He wanted to do what he always did and close off, shut down, but Cas was right there, right next him, his heat setting him on fire and Dean didn't want Cas to stop. So he opened more, opened himself to Cas and twisted to catch his mouth in a gasping kiss.

Cas pushed in with a sound Dean had never heard, urgent and primitive. For Dean, the heat and pressure was almost too much and he tensed as he waited for the panic to subside.

"You're ok, it's ok." Cas kissed his neck luxuriously, sending blinding pleasure through Dean's whole body. "Stay with me."

"Cas." Tears welled up in Dean's eyes as Cas started a slow rhythm, caressing Dean's shoulder and arm. He was broken and Cas would fix him, make him better. Cas didn't think he was broken and that's what made him feel whole. A sob broke loose and Cas told him it was ok, he would accept every tear. Dean could let go and Cas would catch him.

"Unnnnhh, Dean!" Cas panted against his shoulder, holding his chest and stomach possessively, clutching him close as he fucked in and in and in.

"Cas… I'm gonna…!" Dean gripped the sheets tight as his orgasm ripped through him, letting Cas rock him through the waves.

"Come for me, Dean." Cas whispered in Dean's ear as spunk spilled onto the bed, driving spurts out of him with his powerful thrusts. "There you go, just like that."

Cas trailed a hand lazily over Dean's softening dick, dirtying it with Dean's come. Still he fucked into him, gaining speed and force, especially after Dean's orgasm further relaxed him to his thrusts.

Dean just gave into it, loving every second of Cas' passion, the way he clawed at Dean and held him close like he couldn't get enough of him. Wanted to breathe him like air.

Cas didn't cry out like Dean when he came. He gasped into Dean's ear and Dean felt him fill him up with each pump, felt Cas in his very bones like Cas had claimed him and marked him as his own.

Dean weakly turned his head against the sheets to drop a sloppy kiss on Cas' mouth as the angel panted through the aftermath, hands still entwined.

Cas collapsed next to him without pulling out, tugging Dean onto his side to follow this new position. Dean rolled with him, limp and pleasantly numb.

Cas kissed his shoulder tenderly, pressing as close to Dean as he could manage and curling an arm around his chest. Dean almost hummed in pleasure.

"Ok, yeah." Dean breathed. "I get it, Cas. My ass gets it."

"Yes it does." Cas purred, pleased. He slapped Dean's hip, making Dean jump and heat rise to his face at the unexpected gesture. Cas rubbed his hip affectionately where he slapped it. Dean tilted his head for a slow kiss, one that lingered even as their lips parted.

Cas tucked his chin in Dean's shoulder.

"Are we ok?"

Dean couldn't help a smile as he looked over the face he loved so fully, so completely.

"No."

Cas had posed his question with considerable confidence (the arrogant fucker), and still didn't look all that concerned at Dean's response. Dean's expression must have given him away.

"…but we will be." Dean finished, sealing his words with another slow kiss.

---

"Can I call you by pet names?" Castiel asked when he knew Dean was awake, curled on Castiel's arm like he was sleeping but he felt his eyelashes brush the bare skin of his bicep when he blinked.

Dean snorted and sat up on his elbow, rubbing his eye with one palm.

"Like what?" He asked suspiciously, his voice cracking from sleep.

"Baby. Honey. Love." Castiel rattled off what pet names he knew. He liked the way they fell off his tongue, the way they seemed to endear Dean to him in a special way.

"No to 'honey', definitely." Dean said thoughtfully with a trace of disdain. "'Baby' I'm not sure about. 'Love' is ok, but only when we're alone. Definitely not in front of Sam."

"Baby." Cas whispered, trying it out on his tongue while trailing a hand through Dean's short hair.

A strange dazed look came over Dean's face, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips. God, Castiel loved those lips. He was a work of art, one of Father's finest creations.

"You like that?" Castiel asked, amused at Dean's reaction.

"It's alright." Dean said, flustered.

"What if I call you 'baby' when I'm making love to you?" Castiel inquired "Would you enjoy that, Dean?" Dean flushed and Castiel loved that he was starting to get the hang of this whole 'teasing' thing. Dean was very good at it, but he didn't seem to be adept at catching what he could throw.

"Whatever." Dean mumbled, falling onto his back, farther away from Castiel than previously, presumably to hide his reaction. "Where'd you learn this crap from anyway? Been brushing up on girly romantic comedies?"

"You seemed to enjoy the fruits of my other research. I merely wish to express my love in the appropriate human fashion." Castiel smiled quietly to himself.

"I think you're doing better than most humans so far, Cas. What other research?" Dean asked, catching Castiel's wandering hand in is and tangling their fingers in a soft caress.

"Sam gave me an educational book on gay sex." Castiel answered. Dean choked on nothing and sat straight up.

"He did what?"

"You should really thank him next time you see him, too. I would have had no idea how to find your prostate, or even knew it existed, if not for Sam's help."
Dean blinked at him, mouth agape for several seconds. Castiel wondered briefly what Dean was short-circuiting over.

"Oh, fuck me." Dean groaned finally, running a hand wearily over his eyes. Castiel watched him with curiosity, wondering at this strange reaction, until Dean seemed to recover from the shock a bit. "I'm gonna need to see this book, Cas."

"I don't have it on me."

"My brother gave you porn?"

"He gave me an educational reference on gay sex."

"So he gave you porn."

"It was more like a manual."

"Oh, Jesus. He would, too. He wouldn't just give you porn like a normal person."

"Dean."

Castiel pulled him down, not yet ready to end the cuddling. Dean came easily enough.

"I'm glad he did. I want to know how to please you. I don't want to play a guessing game with your body." Castiel hummed, inhaling the sweet scent of soap with a hint of sweat that he mentally labeled 'Dean's after sex smell'.

"Yeah, but it's fuckin' weird."

"What's weird?"

"My little brother helping my boyfriend to- wow I can't even say it it's so fuckin' weird."

"Don't think about it then. Pretend I didn't say anything and just go on enjoying my second hand expertise in ignorant bliss. I will inform Sam you wish to pretend the transaction never occurred."

"Son of a bitch." Dean sighed, exasperated, against Castiel's chest. "You know what? I might just take you up on that. This conversation is scarring me."

A comfortable silence settled over them. Castiel thought it prudent to let Dean recover from his apparent distress over Sam's assistance. Dean stroked a hand along Cas' chest absently and Cas closed his eyes to the pleasant tingle that radiated out from Dean's fingertips.

"You should be careful about making that face around me."

"Hmm?" When Castiel opened his eyes, Dean was staring at him with hunger. Castiel swallowed hard.

"You want to show me what else you've been studying?"
Arousal flared in Castiel's stomach at the low, rough quality Dean's voice deepened to.

"I always want that, Dean."

"I'm startin' to get that." Dean grinned as Castiel pounced on him, pinning him between his arms.

"What is it?" Castiel asked as Dean's eyes glazed over suddenly, as though some thought he'd had had turned him on completely. The evidence of that reaction pressed against Castiel's thigh.

"It's just- you're so… so aggressive." Dean laughed. "It was kind of a surprise. I thought you'd be… I dunno, shy or something."

"Why would I be shy?" Castiel wondered aloud. Dean loved him, or Castiel assumed he did. He loved Dean. There was nothing to be shy about, that's what love meant.

"You're just- you know. You ask me about everything and you're always a little uncertain about human interaction, but when it comes to this stuff you're so… sure." Dean grinned, eyes wandering over Castiel's chest in a way that was making it very difficult to keep track of the conversation. "I mean, it's great. Shit, I'm not complaining. It's just unexpected."

"Well, I studied the manual very thoroughly. Sam gave it to me the day we were sucked into Purgatory so I had it in my pocket and it was my only reading material for a long time. I'm fairly confident in my knowledge on the subject." Castiel explained.

"Forget I asked." Dean winced at mention of the manual. Castiel smiled.

"What would you like to try out right now? I have many things I'd like to try, but I want to do what you want. Analingus in particular sounds appealing, but only with your consent."

Dean stared at him for a few moments. Then he started laughing.

"How the fuck do you know more about sex than me?" Dean wheezed. "How did I get to be the virgin in this relationship?" When his laughter died down, Dean smiled that warm smile Castiel loved but rarely saw. "I don't know any of your fancy terms, Cas, but if you break it down for me I could give my two cense."

"Analingus, also known by the slang 'rim job', is-"

"Yeah." Dean cut him off, sounding pained. "Yeah, I know what it is. Please don't describe it to me. I'm already getting soft from that technical talk."

"So you'd prefer if I use the slang?" Castiel clarified, concerned. Soft Dean was very much something he'd like to avoid.

"God, yes." Dean nodded. "In fact, maybe we shouldn't talk anymore."

"You started it." Castiel reminded him sourly. "But I would like to get your consent beforehand. I don't want to do anything you're uncomfortable with." As chapter one pointed out.

"Rimming," Dean blushed a little as he said it, a lovely pink that touched his chest and shoulders as well, "sounds ok with me, though I have to admit I've never tried it. What else?"

"I'd like to perform… uh, blow you." Castiel nuzzled along Dean's neck, trying to coax the erection he'd killed back into life, "I want you to… fuck my mouth until you come down my throat. I want to try swallowing you down. Taste you."

Castiel hadn't failed to notice Dean's powerful reaction to talking during sex. The filthier Castiel could make it, the more Dean seemed to like it, though Castiel was sure he wouldn't admit to liking it if Castiel pointed it out. Dean was considerably quieter, though Castiel wasn't sure whether it was out of embarrassment to say what he wanted or a true desire to listen rather than speak.

"Yeah, that sounds… yeah." Dean cleared his throat, his lips parted as Castiel's words stole some of the breath from him. His speech had had the desired effect and Dean's hardness was once again pressing against him.

"Would you like to try anything, Dean? This kind of sex is fairly new to you as well, right?" Castiel asked quietly, unsure whether he was pushing him too much.

Dean wet his lips, distracting Castiel once more.

"Is there anything you want me to do to you?" Castiel recognized the evasion.

"Tell me what you want." Castiel urged gently. "Come on, I want to know."

Dean struggled with his words for a moment.

"Shit, I've never talked about sex so much before without actually having it."

"That's because your sexual history is comprised mostly of one-night stands, short relationships, and a brief but fake marriage that I can't imagine involved all that much exploratory sex." Castiel shrugged. He tried not to think about the fact that Lisa had been a yoga instructor, but the thought of them together sexually had occurred to him more than once when Dean was living with Lisa, despite Castiel's efforts to squash it. "We're in a committed relationship."

Dean bristled at Castiel's description of his sex life.

"Thank you. Yes." He squirmed and Castiel recognized exasperation in the way he looked away. "That really needed pointing out."

"Sorry." Castiel laughed softly, tracing his thumb over Dean's lip. Dean thought for a moment, watching Castiel's fascination with his lips.

"I want to blow you too." Dean said softly, almost hesitantly. It was strange to see Dean like this. It was the exact opposite feeling than Dean had described for Castiel- Dean was confident and cocky outside of sex, but he had a hard time covering up his vulnerability when they were alone. Castiel wondered if it was the newness of gay sex or simply something he showed to Castiel alone. Either way, Castiel wanted more of it- he wanted Dean stripped bare to him and free to be uncertain and shy if that's what he felt. He didn't want fake confidence if Dean didn't feel it. It felt nice to instruct Dean for once.

"I want to ride you. I want to fuck you. I want it all, Cas. I want to try everything."

Castiel smiled at that, understanding why Dean liked when Castiel talked dirty as Dean's words sent a thrill through him.

"That's hardly everything, Dean."

"It's all I can think of at the moment." Dean grinned, running a hand down his back to grab at Castiel's ass. Castiel jerked in surprise, a low growl on his lips as he noticed Dean's playful grin. "Why don't you show me what I'm missing and quit all this talking."

Castiel couldn't argue with that.

Chapter Text

When they slipped into the motel room where Sam was doing research on the latest monster business, he just smiled and, though Dean shot him a 'don't say it' look, said anyway, "I'm happy you're happy."

However, he seemed to get increasingly disgruntled and awkward around them: dodging out of rooms when he and Cas walked in, finding excuses to spend time away from them, refusing to look at them directly. Dean would even have preferred him fawning over how cute they were, because they were damn cute, to this strange behavior.

Finally Dean pulled him aside and asked, half fearing the worst despite himself, "What is up with you? Are you suddenly not cool with Cas and me?" Dean wouldn't describe them as overly cuddly, maybe a kiss here and there and an arm slung over a shoulder when they were sitting next to each other on the couch watching tv, so he was completely confused at Sam's new levels of awkward.

Sam pursed his lips together, looking incredibly uncomfortable, and let a sigh of frustration go. Great. Bitchface.

"He won't stop… asking me stuff."

Dean's stomach lurched.

"What stuff?"

Sam looked skyward, struggled with his words, and sighed again.

"Let's just say I know way more than I ever wanted to about your sexual preferences."
"Oh, I'm going to kill him." Dean muttered, face on fire. He spun to head back into their current motel and pummel his lover.

"He tried-" Sam sighed, grabbing Dean's arm to stop him, "He tried not to reveal anything, but he's just, you know, Castiel and he says stuff where it's not hard to read between the lines and get at what he's really asking. Don't- don't be too angry with him." Sam almost looked guilty for ratting Cas out.

"You opened yourself up to this when you gave him that goddamn book." Dean hissed, suddenly irritated with Sam too. "You shoulda known better!"

"Dean, why do you think I gave him that? Because he wouldn't stop asking me questions! It's just now he has actual experience and it's even worse because any hypothetical question is obviously talking about you." Sam explained quickly, frustrated.

"Alright, alright. I'll talk to him." Dean blushed furiously as he thought of all the activities he and Cas had been up to in the last few days, many of which he would rather die than have Sam know about.

"You're actually embarrassed about this?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"Yeah, I would be, but not you."

"What're you talking about?"

"Dean, when was the last time you got all shy over your, uh, conquests? I practically have to stuff my ears sometimes to get you to shut up about it."

"Cas isn't a 'conquest'." Dean scoffed.

Sam looked taken aback, a small smile curling his lips.

"I know."

"Good, so that's settled. What goes on between him and me… that's private."

"You really like him."

"It's Cas."

"Are you in love?"

Dean froze. Sam was giving him that 'tell your brother about your feelings' look that Dean really didn't know how to deal with.

"Shit, Sammy, what kinda question is that?"

"You are." Sam was smug, too smug. "I mean, I was pretty sure… there's that way you guys always looked at each other-"

"Ok." Dean cut him off, holding up a 'please stop' hand, but Sam couldn't be stopped now and he continued,

"-and you've been friends for years so I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but somehow I wasn't sure you would ever-"

"What?" Dean asked, already defensive. "What, you didn't think I'd be able to hold onto someone long enough for it to happen?"
"No." Sam said softly, "I didn't think you'd ever let yourself love someone like that. You're always so cautious."

Dean licked his lips and shifted restlessly.

"It's Cas." He said finally with a slight shrug.

---

Cas was gross, gooey-green mucus kind of sick. Cas said his body was unprepared to fend off disease and infection after it's time as an angel, so every new virus he had been angel immune to without actually building up an immunity to was now hitting him and hitting him hard. As he explained it; he might be sick for a while, with a temporarily very weak immune system, but he would adapt eventually if he didn't die. Which he amended quickly, after Dean's intense expression of alarm, was highly unlikely.

At the moment he was tucked under Dean's arm, cocooned under several blankets, eating cookie dough ice cream and watching an old Charlie Chaplin film. Dean had strongly disagreed with the cookie dough ice cream, as it just seemed logical not to eat cold things when you have a cold, but Cas insisted. Food was one of the pleasurable parts of being human, and Cas needed his favorite foods to get him through the least pleasurable parts of humanity.

Dean smiled to himself as he watched Cas lick the spoon clean messily and then sneeze abruptly.

"That is always very surprising." Cas looked shocked at what his body had done without consulting him.

"You've got-" Dean motioned with his hand to indicate the string of snot hanging from Cas' nose. "Nevermind, I've got it." Dean grabbed a tissue from the small stand by the couch and wiped it away gently.

Cas watched him with open adoration as Dean checked to make sure he hadn't missed any.

"Thank you, Dean." He said softly, eyes shining.

"Yeah." Dean mumbled. "No problem." He still wasn't used to the way Cas looked at him.

Cas had been pretty consistently fluctuating between outrageously sarcastic and helplessly childish and sweet depending on what the brothers were doing and how sick he was feeling. At the moment he was pretty happy and comfortable, after some massive brainstorming on Dean's part on calming the raging sarcasm monster inside.

"You're missing the movie." Dean grinned without taking his eyes off the screen, feeling Cas' gaze on him. Jeez, he was always staring at him.

"I can't kiss you, right?" Cas whispered, a throaty, deep quality to his voice that sent shivers through Dean.

"Dude, you sneezed in my face a few hours ago, remember? I think if I'm going to catch what you've got, I'm already in the danger zone."

"Is that a yes?" His wide blue eyes held onto Dean's with clear confusion. In answer, Dean leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Cas' soft lips before he adjusted his blankets and pulled him in closer.

"As long as you're snot free." Dean managed a straight face. Cas nodded slightly, grinning.

A muffled sound came from behind them. Dean glanced over his shoulder to see Sam watching them with an inscrutable look on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Dean had forgotten about Sammy, sitting quietly behind them on his computer.

"What?" He repeated, suddenly realizing the level of sap he and Cas had reached from an outside perspective.

"Nothing! I think I'm getting a cough. Might be catching whatever Cas has." But Dean saw the grin Sam was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide, and that was all it took to make him unbearably embarrassed.

"Shut up, bitch." Dean muttered.

"Jerk."

"Both of you shut it." Cas barked grumpily. "I'm trying to enjoy this silent movie; I need silence."

Sam was smiling outright now as he exchanged a look with Dean. Sick Cas was more temperamental than a pregnant lady in the midst of raging hormone shifts.

"Alright." Dean agreed good-naturedly, stroking Cas' hair as the near-human sighed and tilted his head back against Dean's shoulder. He sniffed loudly.

"Dean, I don't know if I can bear this."

Dean couldn't help rolling his eyes at that.

"You are such a baby." He squeezed him again in an affectionate side hug. "It's a cold. I've had a million in my life and you will too. Just ride it out. You'll be better tomorrow, I promise."

Cas hummed a discontented sigh and closed his eyes on Dean's shoulder. It wasn't long before he began to snore softly. Dean watched him for a moment- the graceful curve of his low cheekbones, his feathery, near-black hair somehow perfectly disheveled, the distinct line of his nose- and was overwhelmed with how much he loved this tempting man. He sat through the rest of the movie without really watching, concentrating hard on the feel of Cas asleep next to him, his warmth seeping through the blankets, trying to memorize the unfamiliar sensation of happiness coursing through him.

Eventually he got up when Sammy whispered he'd found a new lead for the case they'd been working. He laid Castiel's head down carefully on the ratty motel couch and propped his feet up on the couch arm before slipping out.

---

"Fucking monsters." Dean swore loudly, wiping blood off his hands and looking down in dismay at the blood stains all over his clothes. "I can't believe this. That old woman looked at me like I was a mass murderer, remember? I think she called the cops. We need to get out of here, like, tonight."

"Yeah, well, you are covered in blood. Let's head out tomorrow early, then. I'm beat. I've got to sleep right now." Sam pointed out.

"Do you think Cas is still sleeping?" Dean asked as he swiped the room key through the lock.

He was right where Dean left him. Dean smiled to himself, his chest filling with something like helium at the sight of Cas still buried under ten blankets and sleeping like a baby.

"Shit, I've got to wake him up to get him to bed. He's going to take my head off." Dean muttered, dreading the inevitable awakening of the sarcastic, bitchy side of Cas.

"Hey." Dean said gently, kneeling next to Cas' head and rubbing the bumpy part of the blankets he assumed hid his shoulder. "Wake up. You'll be much more comfortable in bed, Cas. You only have to wake up for ten seconds, I promise."

"Hey." Dean said again, a little louder, shaking him a bit. Cas showed no signs of waking. "Cas. Wake up."

"Dean." There was something in Sam's voice that made him look up. Sam stood right next to him, looking down at Cas with an expression that sent a bolt of lightning down Dean's spine.

"Cas?" Dean whispered, shaking him much harder; still Cas' eyes remained shut. Sam pulled his phone from his pocket. Dean stared at Cas.

The redness in his face.

The way his breath came in shallow, ragged pants. Dean had assumed his nose was too stuffed to breathe through.

Sam was giving the address for the motel over the phone. Dean was falling, falling while he continued to shake Cas with both hands. The ground was moving, except it wasn't- it just felt like an earthquake all around him and Dean was at the center of chaos. Everything was black and there was no good left, no hope; just him and Sammy struggling to make it through the next day of beatings from monsters and the numb from the alcohol and Hell burning the back of his eyelids every night and every waking moment and Dean could remember all too well what that felt like. It was too short, he needed more time. Every happiness he had ever had was too short, but this one more than the others. This one was the brightest, the sweetest, the best. He couldn't lose it, not now.

Wake up. Dean felt the words on his lips but didn't realize they were shouted until Sam pulled him away and into a constricting embrace.

---

Dean couldn't just sit on the other side of a glass window and watch Cas breathe through a respirator, but apparently that's what he had to do if he wanted to see him.

He had to do something, but there was nothing he could do. Just wait.

Dean wasn't good at waiting.

Sam stayed with him through the night, but he went back for a spare change of clothes for Dean and a nap, insisting that he change completely out of the blood-splattered outfit rather than just throw a jacket on top. Dean couldn't sleep if he wanted to.

"It's just a waiting game." The doctor said, pulling her mask off with a gloved hand so he could hear her clearly.

"Why can't I get in that gear like you?" Dean gestured at her. "I just need to be in there with him."

"Soon." She assured him. "If he makes it through these next few days, you can get washed up and go in. If he takes a turn for the worst, we'll let you in to see him too."

Dean wanted to say fuck you, that's my boyfriend and I'll be in to see him if I want to… but he would be saying fuck you to Castiel's chances too.

Dean wasn't good at waiting, though.

Sam returned soon enough, bringing a change of clothes and insisting that Dean sit down and get some sleep, he would wake him if anything changed with Cas. The ICU nurses gave him some blankets and a pillow and Dean rearranged the chairs so he could prop his feet up as he slept.

Sammy sat next to him, and even though Dean was exhausted to his very core he couldn't drop his eyelids and shut it off. He stared at the wall, the sight of Cas weak and fragile and hooked up to machines burned into his eyes.

"I can't." He said suddenly, not sure why he was speaking but too tired to shut himself up.

"He'll be ok, Dean." Sam said readily, just waiting for him to start talking. For once Dean was glad Sam always wanted to talk about feelings.

"I can fight monsters. I can deal with the cuts and the bruises and the punches to the face. I can deal with the fear that something's going to drag me out by my legs at any second and eat me alive. Why can't I deal with this?"

"No one can deal with this, Dean." Sam whispered, a hand on Dean's shoulder. He could tell Sam was crying so he didn't look back. He lost Jess, he knew. Dean would break if he saw tears on his brother's face. "He's going to be ok, he's going to get better. You just have to believe in that. Cas is strong."

"I can't." Dean repeated, mostly to himself.

He waited.

---

Finally, agonizingly slowly, the day came when he could get in gear and go in. Cas was awake, though he looked hot and sweaty and unbelievably tired, and Dean could talk to him, which he was infinitely grateful for.

"Jesus, Cas, it's just a cold." Dean tried to laugh. "Toughen up, will ya?"

"How pathetic of me." Cas smiled. "My immune system needs to get to the gym more often."

"Yeah mine could kick its ass. I don't even have the sniffles." Dean said, wishing more than anything that he could hold his hand.

"It could." He agreed. He looked down at his feet through the pale green blankets. "I wish I could get out of here. It's been unbelievably boring without you. I just watched more TV in the last three days than I have my whole life."

"Just put all your concentration into getting better."
"I can't feel it anymore, Dean. My grace… it's just gone. Completely."
"I know." Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Look, you're going to get through this. You're doing better already, that's why they let me in here. That's a really good sign."

"Yes." Cas wet his lips, eyes darting to the window where two nurses were chatting, clipboards in hand. "Why am I so terrified, then?" He whispered.

It was like an arrow to Dean's already strained heart. He had to grip the chair arms to keep from throwing himself at Cas. He wanted to hold him to his chest and whisper that he would never let anything hurt him, he would take down whoever tried to mess with him… but he couldn't fight disease with his fists.

"I never used to be afraid of death, no more than was natural. I was a good soldier, prepared to die for a cause." Cas continued, rubbing a hand along his arm as though to comfort himself. He shivered visibly, pulling the covers up over his arms before continuing, looking lost, "Now I'm terrified. I think…" Cas' beautiful blue eyes met his, deep and mysterious as ever, tinged with sadness. "How can I leave you right after I promised I wouldn't?"
"You won't. You aren't going to." Dean insisted, but the words were choked with fear. "You're going to get better. Promise me again that you-" Dean couldn't finish his sentence. He couldn't say it.

Cas was silent for a long time, eyes flicking between Dean's, a myriad of emotions flitting through him.

"I promise." He finally said, his voice wavering with uncertainty.

---

Dean didn't know how long he'd been staring at the vending machine, waiting irrationally for the stupid candy bar to drop when it was clearly stuck. He willed himself not to see it as a metaphor, but even without thinking about it too hard it was just one more out of a long ass list of things that were going wrong. Now he was out of quarters and so fucking hungry he could eat the whole machine in one go. He had no idea what to do, no idea where to move next. There was a cafeteria downstairs… but somehow it felt too far, too impossible. He just couldn't make his body move.

It wasn't until Sam came running down the hall that Dean sparked to life, a jolt of terror running through him.

"What? What's wrong?" Dean's throat was a knot of fear but somehow he managed the words. His mind blanked with adrenaline, which he was actually grateful for because if it wasn't he would be thinking of possibilities that scared the shit out of him.

"Dean, he's gone. He just disappeared." Sam breathed hard, skidding to a halt.

"What are you talking about?" Dean muttered faintly. He started running, his feet pounding the white speckled linoleum as he tore through the bland hallways to the ICU. Cas' bed was empty and several nurses were nervously talking outside his door.

"How- he couldn't even stand. How the fuck did he just disappear?" Dean could feel a full-on panic attack hitting him. "What happened?" Dean demanded of the cluster of nurses by Cas' door.

"We have no idea. They're checking the security cameras right now, but none of us saw him come through the hallway. He's so weak… I don't know how this is possible." Angelina, a petite blonde with glasses answered him. Dean's breathing was speeding up. He'd been in too many terrifying situations to count before, but somehow he couldn't handle this. He couldn't.

Sammy had a reassuring arm around him.

"We'll find him, Dean. Don't worry."

"How the fuck did this happen?" Dean repeated, breathless. "How did this happen? Where is he?"

"I don't know." Sam admitted guiltily, as though it was somehow something he should know. "But we'll find him, Dean. We will."

Dean was still breathing hard when Sammy pulled him away from the nurses.

"I need you to tell me something, Dean."
Dean could hardly follow what Sam was saying, his mind racing with Cas is gone, just disappeared, just like that, couldn't even walk, he disappeared, gone-

"I need you to promise me you won't do anything drastic, not liked you did for me. Not like Dad did for you."

Don't you know, Sam? Nobody keeps their promises anymore.

"Sell my soul?" Dean whispered. He thought about going back to the pit, for good this time. Forever.

"Castiel… he's human now. He's a good person. Even if he passes away, he's going to Heaven. Even with the angels up there, he's about as safe as he would be down here."

Dean shakes his head. The moment he thinks about Cas in Heaven his mind screeches to a halt, begging him to backtrack: don't go that way, that way lies a world of hurt nothing had prepared him to handle.

"No. No I'm not going to let that happen, Sam. Cas hasn't had a chance to live yet."

"Lots of people don't, Dean. Promise me you'll let him go if it comes down to it. You're a good person, too. You'll see him again, and you'll both be a lot happier up there together, eventually, than one of you down in the pit and the other living a miserable life here. Please, I'm begging you. Don't do anything reckless."

Sam was asking him to suffer through the rest of his lifetime without Cas, to be patient until they both got to go upstairs. Again, Dean couldn't think that far, couldn't think to the agony of missing what he'd only just tasted, something so good Dean had never dreamed he'd even get that one taste.

"He's not dead." Dean growled against Sam's shoulder as Sam pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. "He's not dead yet, Sam. Just missing."

---

Dean watched the security tapes over and over again, looking for anyone suspicious coming in or out. Cas was nowhere to be found in the hallway outside his door in the time he disappeared and there were no windows in his room. He looked around the room, checked the vents. No signs of EMF or anything else to indicate monster activity. Not even a smudge on the draw curtains.

Dean slammed his hand against the wall with frustration as Sammy announced he hadn't found any trace of sulfur anywhere in the room.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed into the empty room. "Sam he's not doing good. We need to find him today. We need to find him now." There was a desperate quality to his voice that he'd never heard out loud before, one he'd tried to keep in his own inner monologue. Sam was obviously affected by it, his soft doe-eyes wide and afraid.

"Let's watch the tapes again." Sam suggested, using a voice that reminded Dean of a man trying to soothe a wild animal.

They watch the tapes again.

They watch them over and over and over until Dean knows what every frame every second looks like.

Then he sees it.

It's less than a fourth of a second long, just barely in the corner of the camera's shot, but a flash of white peeks out of the window of Cas' room. No one walking in the hallway at the time reacts to it. Dean goes frame by frame just to make sure he's not imagining it, not hallucinating off of lack of sleep and stress and staring at a screen for hours. But it's there, fast but real, and Dean feels hope spark in his heart. He holds onto it like a life line.

Now he just has to figure out what the hell it means, and fast.

---