It was the kind of night that was typically depicted in movies. Well, those fruity movies that Sam likes, but not Dean. Dean's a man, he kills monsters and drinks beer, and he doesn't watch Sam movies.

But he had to admit that the moment was perfect. His angel at his side, them curled up on some cliff overlooking another rinky-dink town.

Dean never pictured himself behaving like this, but he never pictured a lot of things about his current life. He never guessed he would be with a man, in fact to this day he denies being anything but hetero, he just loves Cas, you know. But loving someone, truly loving someone, was another experience he never considered. Of course there was Lisa, but that wasn't this kind of love. His love with Cas it's a whirlwind, it's exciting and delighting but warm, comforting and embracing. He always had his angel watching over him, but to have him on ground, in his life, and currently, in his arms. That was love.

Maybe it's the rarity of all of this. The fact that so little people find someone they like, let alone love. Maybe that's what elated Dean the most. The childish 'I have something you don't' that emulated itself every time he grabbed Cas' hand (which was always done in a very discrete and testosterony manner, thank you very much).

Cas had been staring at Dean. He often times does that, and Dean had well adjusted. Dean smiled, shaking his head.

"What?" Cas questioned.

"Nothing," Dean began. "It's just, remember when we were still dancing around each other and I would get pissed whenever you stared?"

The angel nodded "Yes, although I don't think any dancing was involved."

"Well," Dean chuckled. "It was just that I knew if you did that so often to me, the staring, you know, then I couldn't be the only one you looked at. That staring was just something you did, and that the way you acted towards me, well, that was just how angels were. I just wanted you to love me so bad, and now you do, so, yah."

"Dean" Castiel began "I stare a you because I love you very, very much."

"Yah, well," Dean grunted, " I love you too, like, a lot."

Their lips met, and it felt like the first kiss, or maybe any other kiss, they we equally elating. It was the perfect moment, the kind of moment they right sonnets or movies or really cheesy songs about. It was the moment Dean had wanted for so long. Dean didn't usually get what he wanted, but when he got his angel, everything else seemed to arrive.