"I don't like dogs."

Castiel Mizrahi was sitting across from Dean Winchester, star football player and babe-magnet of Grady High. Castiel had originally intended to ask Dean about the team's progress that year, but they had ended up telling each other random facts about their lives. Now the jock was staring at him, eyes wide, incredulous that anyone could possibly dislike dogs.

"What the hell?!" he managed to sputter. "Everyone likes dogs! Even Hitler liked dogs! I would bet you a million bucks that Satan likes dogs. So how could you not like them?"

Castiel chuckled to himself. "I don't know, Dean. Maybe because they're slobbery, and smelly, and-"

"Okay, okay, spare me the gory details," Dean interjected, laughing in spite of himself.

Cas smiled. Then he remembered why he had come to see the underclassman in the first place. He cleared his throat.

"Well, I know we've been having fun, but I do have a few questions to ask you about this football season. I'm writing a column for the school paper and it-"

Dean cut him off again. "Oh sure man, it's not a problem. Go for it."

Cas sighed, a bit frustrated with Dean's seeming lack of patience, and pulled out a notepad.

As Castiel drove home from school that afternoon, his mind began to wander. His old Ford Taurus rattled unsettlingly on the poorly constructed road, and the feeling was all too familiar. He had often driven this way to visit the one person he would have died for. It had been a year since his best friend Luke had died, but he still found himself missing him whenever there was a lull in his day. He had taken great care to fill his hours with study and school projects, but he couldn't escape the long drives and sleepless nights that hounded him wherever he went, driving him further and further into solitude and loneliness. Often, the only way to escape his memories was to remember something good, but today, nothing came to mind as quickly and easily as the chocolate brown eyes of his junior boyfriend. Cas shook his head, frowning, and turned the radio up to drown out his thoughts. He pulled over as All Out Of Love by Air Supply came on. His hands were shaking.

"Oh god…" he whispered. Tears began streaming down his face as his mind took control, a flood of memories breaking the dam he had so carefully constructed. Luke's smile. His perfectly formed lips, so firm when he was angry, but so soft when he kissed. His soft but assuring voice, telling him he would never let go. The way he slept, flung out over the bed as though to claim it as his. His perfectly chiseled features. Him. Cas was sobbing, his voice hoarse as he cried Luke's name into the night. He stumbled out of the car, unsure of his intent, but knowing that he had to get away. He walked quickly, vaguely aware of a dull throbbing in his head, brought on by his outburst of emotion. As he gradually regained control of his senses, he realized he had walked too far to even see his car anymore, but in his current state, he couldn't be bothered to care. He simply laid down on the side of the road, and closed his eyes.

The alarming brightness of headlights woke him up. He looked groggily up at the figure silhouetted by the light.

"Cas, what the hell…"

His eyes snapped open, and he jumped to his feet. "Luke!" he cried, not quite awake. He crashed into the shadow and fell to the ground on top of him. Moments away from smashing his lips into those of the stranger, he stopped and realized his mistake. He quickly stood up as his eyes welled up again, threatening to overflow.

"I'm sorry Dean," he said quietly.

Dean hadn't said a word, completely shocked by the rushed encounter. Now though, hearing Cas speak, he shook off the alarm and spoke.

"I'm going to say this again. What the hell?! I drove past your car a mile back, and I almost ran you over! Now are you going to tell me, or do I have to pry the truth-" But he couldn't finish, because Castiel had wrapped his arms around the slightly taller boy's torso.

"Dean, please…I need…just…"

Dean understood. He said nothing, but returned Cas's embrace, alarmed when he felt him begin to shake as tears poured down his face. Finally he was still, and drew away, muttering under his breath,

"I'm such a little bitch. Thank you, Dean…just forget this happened, please."

He turned and walked down the road in the direction of his car. Dean watched him go, saying nothing, but aware that he had just been given a rare insight on the upperclassman's troubled life.

The next day, Castiel wasn't at school. Or the next day. Or the next. Dean began to be irrationally afraid for the senior, and after a week of absence, he resolved to visit Cas's house. He got the address from the principle, and was surprised to learn that he lived on the nicer side of town, along with the wealthy high schoolers from Saint John's Academy. Shrugging it off, he walked back to the cafeteria, where he found his friend Ben talking to a guy he didn't know. He stood beside him but turned to the other, offering his hand.

"Hey, the name's Winchester. Dean Winchester. What are you doing with this loser?"

Ben laughed. "Whatever. This is Lee. I was just telling him about that Mizrahi guy who's been skipping. You know him?"

Dean thought about the events of the previous night, and replied, shaking his head.

"I mean I see him in the halls sometimes, but I don't know him beyond that. What about him?" Ben grimaced. "Well basically there was this 'scandal' a year ago at a different high school involving him and this guy Luke. Apparently they were in a relationship that no one knew about, but after Luke died in a wreck everyone somehow found out that Castiel was a faggot. After that, he obviously couldn't show his face at that school again, so he came here. Pretty gross, actually. He goes in the locker rooms with us. Ugh." Ben and his friend shuddered, laughing loudly.

Dean turned away and walked out of the cafeteria, feeling slightly sick. His friends didn't seem to care at all about the pain of another human being. "They must be scared," he thought. A man loving a man, or a woman doing the same, was an utterly foreign concept to some of his sheltered and slightly biased classmates. He sighed heavily and walked out of the school building, swinging his car keys around his finger.

He finally arrived at the Mizrahi home, but after stepping out of the car he stood for a few minutes, simply admiring the grandeur of the plot of land. The house was huge. In fact, it couldn't really be called a house- "mansion" would have been a more appropriate term. The gravel driveway that led up to the house was lined with exotic flowers of every color, and a fountain blossomed at the very end. Dean was taken aback, to say the least. He finally shook himself out of his reverie and crunched down the pristine drive, admiring the walkway. After reaching the door and ringing the doorbell, he gazed at the many windows, trying to guess which belonged to Castiel's room. His wondering was cut short by a middle aged man opening the door. His pleasant face instantly was marred by a scowl when he saw Dean, and though he tried to sound hospitable, there was a definite edge to his voice.

"Why hello, young man. I hope you're here to see Anna, because Castiel refuses to see anyone. If you are here to see him, I strongly advise you to go away. If you insist, go ahead, but he'll only repeat what I've just told you."

Dean almost said something smart in retort, but he quickly thought better of it. "Thank you, sir. Now if you wouldn't mind, I would, in fact, like to try to speak to your son."

The man heard the sarcasm in Dean's voice and visibly stiffened, but let him in anyway. Dean walked inside and was not at all surprised to see that it was just as, if not more impressive than the outside.

"This is a really nice place you've got here, Mr. Mizrahi. I'll admit, Cas doesn't seem-"

"I am not Mr. Mizrahi. Merely his butler." the stiff man bowed and walked out of the room.

Dean laughed out loud- it was just so unlike what he had imagined Castiel's house to be, and the evidence of all the wealth around him was slightly overwhelming. Suddenly he heard a sound and looked up. A teenage girl was walking down the staircase- she wasn't remarkable, but she wasn't ugly, either. Dean smiled up at her.

"Hey! Are you Anna?"

She frowned at him. "What would you care. You're obviously here to see my brother."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Why would you say that?"

She laughed. "Oh come on. Well, he's up here. Take the left staircase and go to the end of the hall. On the right." She was at the bottom of the stairs now, and was sizing Dean up. "I have to say…You're a lot more attractive than Luke. But don't tell him I said that. He'll start crying again."

The indifference in her voice was disturbing to Dean, but he decided it wasn't his business. "You know I'm not his boyfriend…"

But she was already gone.

He knocked on the door, surprised when it swung open. He had known the encounter was likely to be upsetting, but he wasn't prepared for the sight that met his eyes. Castiel's room was a wreck. Posters were ripped off of the wall, a desk was overturned, and there were plates of half eaten food strewn about the room. Cas was curled up on his bed, disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes showing that he hadn't gotten up for awhile. His ragged breathing indicated that he was asleep, and Dean sighed, wondering how long he would have to wait. But as soon as he stepped into the room, Castiel's eyes cracked open.

"Wha-" he realized it was Dean and sat up quickly. "Why are you here? Who gave you my address?" He looked around his room wildly. "My room is totally destroyed! What the hell?! You can't be here! GO AWAY!"

He was panicking, and Dean didn't quite know what to do. So he did the only thing that made sense. He quickly walked over to Cas's bed, grabbed his shoulders, and kissed him roughly. The older guy's lips were hot and dry, and nothing like what he was used to. But it was different, and he liked it. Cas was clung to him, desperate, crushing their lips together as if he were dying, and then he wasn't. It was as if something clicked inside of him, and he shoved Dean away. He was panting, and the anguish in his eyes was magnified by the confusion at what had just happened. Dean stared at him, all too aware that he had crossed a line.

"Cas…I…I don't know why…"

Cas was crying, his shoulders shaking as he slowly put his head in his hands and sat down. He gestured toward the door, unable to speak. Dean nodded vacantly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna go…Okay."

He quickly walked toward the door, not quite sure what he was feeling. Tears sprang unbidden to his eyes, and he roughly brushed them aside. He paused before he left the room- Cas was sitting on the bed, head in his hands , not moving. Dean bit his lip, wanting to say something, but there was nothing he could say to undo what he had done. He left.

The next couple of months were a blur of activity for Dean Winchester. He immersed himself in sports and academics until school let out, and then he began life guarding at the neighborhood pool. Occasionally, he would catch a brief glimpse of Castiel at local diners, but he never approached him. It still felt too soon, and Dean wondered if it always would. Besides, it wasn't as if Cas would want to see him. Dean sighed quietly, taking a small sip of his Dr. Pepper, then looked up as his fellow lifeguard, Gabe, approached him. The 21 year old was a short, brown haired, and vulgar frat boy who enjoyed mocking those he deemed inferior. He winked at a passing, scantily clad female, then turned to Dean and spoke.

"Hey man. I just wanted to make sure you're okay…you've been seeming pretty out of it. Love troubles?" He was smirking.

Dean looked into his eyes, annoyed. Gabe had the habit of running his hands through his hair as he spoke, a characteristic that Dean found particularly offending. He gritted his teeth, and forced a smile. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Gabe chuckled. "Well, you can always talk to me if you need help." He smoothed his hair with his hand. "You know me- lady's man is my middle name"

Dean choked on his soda. He had never heard anyone, much less a woman, say a single positive thing about the man standing in front of him. He put his soda down and gestured away from himself. "Okay Gabe, I'll take you up on that offer. Now I need to work. You can talk to me later."

Gabe huffed indignantly but obliged, strutting off to the parking lot where his oversized motorcycle awaited him.

Castiel sat in front of his television set, idly channel surfing. His eyes flicked to his phone as it buzzed, indicating that he had received a text message. He picked up the phone.

hey. I got your # from jesse turner. I know we haven't spoken in awhile, but I'd like to talk about what happened. –Dean W.

His breath caught in his chest. Dean. He had done his best to forget the impulsive and impatient kid, but nothing could stop him from remembering the rushed but exhilarating kiss the two had shared. He pressed reply.

Hello Dean. I would love to have lunch. I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but maybe we can change that. –Castiel Mizrahi

Cas paused, hands sweaty. "Am I doing the right thing?" he asked himself. He smiled wryly. It didn't really matter, did it. This could be fun.

-message sent-

Dean peeked into the window of the restaurant they had agreed on- Dylan's Grill- to see if Castiel was already there, but he saw nothing. Suddenly a voice made him spin around.

"Hey, Dean."

Cas stood behind him, hands in his pockets, hair tousled and freshly cut. He wore a lopsided grin, strange when paired with the uncertainty in his eyes. His eyes moved over Dean, taking in the changes, and came to rest looking straight into Dean's. His smile widened, and he wrapped Dean in a tight hug.

"I've missed you," he said softly.

Dean was confused. "You have? Even after…?"

Cas nodded, still embracing him. Dean felt a huge weight lift off of his chest. "I've missed you too," he said, grinning. They stood like that for at least a minute, and when Cas finally pulled away, there were several people gathered across the street, whispering to each other. Dean flipped them off in his euphoria, and followed Castiel inside.

The waiter seated the two guys and gave them their menus, but neither was interested. Dean grinned at Cas.

"So tell me, what's been going on in the life of Castiel Mizrahi?"

Cas smiled back. "I would much rather hear about you. Seriously. You go first."

Dean shrugged. "Okay…Well, I ran into an old friend the other day, this girl named Alice…We caught up and that was nice…but why am I even talking?"

He stopped himself and looked into Cas's alarmingly blue eyes. "I want to hear about you," he said finally.

Cas sighed. "You certainly are a persistent little bitch, aren't you."

Dean laughed, but Cas began talking. "Well, other than sleeping, eating, and playing Black Ops 2, my life has been pretty ordinary."

"I thought college life was supposed to be glamorous?"

Cas smiled. "You forget, I'm not in college yet."

Dean nodded. After a long silence, Dean asked the question he had been wondering since Cas had graduated.

"Where are you thinking of going?" He asked with a certain dread in the pit of his stomach, sure that Cas would be going somewhere unreachable, maybe even abroad.

Cas looked at him for a second, and Dean felt despair wash over him. But the answer surprised him.

"I think I'm going to UT," he began. "I want to be close to my family, and all my friends are here. Also, I think I've got some unfinished business to attend to."

Cas was looking at Dean with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. He leaned closer until their noses were almost touching. Dean laughed nervously.

"Dude, didn't you ever learn about personal space?"

But it was a whisper, and Castiel ignored it.

"Dean Winchester… you intrigue me," he said softly, eyes roving almost hungrily over the younger boy's face. Dean was relieved, yet slightly disappointed, when the cough of a waiter beside them made Cas turn away. Dean looked down, face hot, while Castiel paid for the drinks they had left untouched. As soon as the waiter left, Cas stood up and gestured for Dean to follow him. Dean's mind was going a mile a minute, imagining every possible scenario for the rest of his evening if he chose to go with the man. He knew that they weren't friends. No, they were something very different from that. And even though Cas hadn't acted on any of his obvious desire, Dean knew it would only be a matter of time. The thought excited him, and he looked up quickly to see Cas's eyes on him. The eyes of a predator. Dean almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Just months ago, Cas had been a broken man, and now he was shamelessly fucking Dean with his eyes. Cas suddenly looked angry. "What's funny?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Dean rushed to assure him, still smirking. "It's just that I took you to be a very different person, based on…you know."

Cas smiled, but it was a feral baring of teeth, not made in amusement. "I think you'll find I've changed a lot, these past few months. Now, are you coming or not?"

Dean walked towards him without hesitation and, throwing caution to the wind, took Cas's hand in his own.

Cas led Dean to his bedroom, walking slowly. It was large and dimly lit, covered in new posters and photographs. There was a large black carpet on the floor, and admission essays were strewn about the entire room. Dean looked at none of this. The first thing he saw was the bed. It was new, and it was very big. Cas noticed what his eyes were glued upon, and laughed softly. He took Dean's face in both of his slender hands, and kissed his forehead.

"You know you don't have to. You can walk away, and never have to speak to me again." Dean was dumbfounded. "I was the one who-"

Cas put a finger to his lips, hushing him. "Everything you've ever done to me, or with me, or for me, has helped me, and I will never forget it. You are an incredibly humble and selfless person, and simply having you in my room is an honor."

Dean's eyes welled with tears, and he looked down. "Fuck," he whispered.

Cas cupped his chin, easing his head up until they were looking into each other's eyes.

"I love you, Dean Winchester," Cas smiled.

Their lips met and suddenly Dean felt a need rise up inside of him, and he pressed his lips violently against Cas's. Cas, obviously pleased by the reception of his kiss, moved forward until Dean was pressed against the wall, and brought Dean's arms up until he was pinning both over the ridiculously tall 16 year old's head with one hand. He slipped his tongue into Dean's mouth, working with him until they found their rhythm. His cock was already pressing against the rough fabric of his jeans, and he could feel Dean's harden as well as his hands slipped under his shirt. The high schooler's muscles were supple and firm, a result of his many athletic activities, and Cas felt the hunger inside him swell, but he forced it down, breaking off the kiss slowly.

Dean's eyes widened with concern as he burst out, "What did I do wrong?!"

Cas looked up at him and began to laugh, quietly at first, but then louder, until at last he was rolling about on the floor, tears streaming down his face. He looked at Dean again, the poor kid on the edge of tears himself, attempted to stop laughing, and wrapped his arms around his waist. "You did nothing wrong!" He practically shouted. Seeing Dean wince, he made himself calm down. He stood, took Dean's hands in his own, and repeated himself. "You did absolutely nothing wrong. In fact, I think that was the best kiss I've ever shared with anyone." Dean was utterly bemused. Cas stroked his face, speaking even more quietly. "I was laughing because you've made me very happy. I didn't think I could be happy again, and you've gone and done it. Dean, I love you. I know we don't know each other very well, but I would like to ask for the opportunity to change that. Pardon the cliché phrase, but Dean…would you go out with me?"

Dean was still staring at him blankly. "I thought you were going to fuck me…"

And then he was laughing too. He fell into Cas's arms, and they stood there for what seemed like hours, laughing for sheer joy.

Finally, Dean looked into Castiel's eyes, and smiled. A pure, genuine, 100% Dean Winchester smile. "Castiel Mizrahi, of course I'll 'be your boyfriend', though I really have no clue why you'd want me to be."

Cas scoffed and didn't respond to the ridiculous rhetoric. He simply took Dean's hand for the thousandth time that night and led him to his bed, wrapping his arms around his waist and sighing contentedly into his hair, spooning until they fell asleep.

Dean woke up in his own bed, dazed and disoriented. Remembering the night before, his stomach twisted in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. There was a knock at the door. "Come in."

He groaned, surprised at the hoarseness of his voice. His twelve year old brother walked into the room, rubbing his eyes and sighing.

"Heya Sammy," he smiled, patting the bed beside him. "what's up?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing. Where were you last night? Dad was a little worried."

Dean laughed without thinking, then quickly turned it into a cough, knowing all too well the unpleasant reciprocations his confession would have. Although his dad was pretty great, he wasn't quite sure how he would react to the news that his oldest son had fallen asleep wrapped in the arms of a guy three years older than him. So the only reply Dean gave to his younger brother was a small shrug after saying, "I was hanging with a few of the guys."

Sam rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Dean sighed and fell back on his pillow, closing his eyes and smiling. "Of course I'll be your boyfriend," he said in a high-pitched voice, mocking himself.

"Whose boyfriend?" Sam cried, bursting through the door. "I knew something happened!" Dean cursed himself inwardly; he should've remembered by now that Sam had the habit of standing outside of his door until he came out.

"Just someone," he said vaguely. "Now get out of here you little demon, before I have to throw holy water on you."

Sam hissed and ran out of the room. Dean smiled. His brother was a pest most of the time, but he was family, and Dean couldn't help but love the kid. Finally, he dragged himself out of bed and walked into the shower, where he turned on the hot water and plugged up the drain. He didn't usually take baths, but right now, he was in the mood. He slowly drizzled shampoo into the steaming water, watching the little swirls of viscous material mix with the clear liquid. Something about the chemistry fascinated him at the moment, and he sighed with pleasure as he stepped into the steaming bath, bubbles clinging to his tan skin. He found himself wondering what Cas was doing. He stepped out of the bath again, shivering as cold air hit his feet, and retrieved his cell phone. He dialed Castiel's number and sat back in the tub, waiting for him to pick up. After the fifth ring, a tired voice said "Hello…?" Dean smiled.

Cas sat with Dean on the beach, their fingers laced together, sipping a soda and watching the sun rise. It had been two months since he had asked Dean to be his boyfriend, and they had been the best two months of his life. In that time, he and Dean had become as close as brothers, as protective of each other as parents, and as in love as Romeo and Juliet. Not that they didn't have arguments. Dean couldn't comprehend Castiel's obsession with keeping his room clean, and he had foolishly brought it up one day when he had come over for a relaxed day of gaming.

They had just finished a particularly difficult level, and Dean, in his excitement, knocked over a stack of records. Cas wordlessly had stood, walked over, rearranged the records, and walked back to his seat. Dean had laughed, asking Cas why he did that, Cas had said he liked clean things, and he had laughed, saying "Well then I don't know why we're dating, because I haven't taken a shower in about a week." And Cas had freaked out. Dean still didn't quite know why, but he wouldn't ask, ever. Because when he had said those words, unimaginable pain had been evident in Cas' eyes, and Dean had been afraid. Afraid, because the last time he had seen that pain was minutes before he left Cas's room, not seeing him for months.

But that was in the past. Now he was looking into the eyes of the man he loved, laughing at an old joke. A few bikini-clad girls passed by the two guys, disgust evident in their eyes. Dean could ignore that- the ugly looks and muffled whispers of strangers- but it became harder to as people closer to him slowly found out about Cas. Dean would never forget the day that Ben had caught the two behind the school in a full blown makeout session.

Dean had heard him approaching and had made Cas get off of him, but not soon enough that Ben didn't notice their heavy breathing, their ruffled hair, their bruised lips. He stood, speechless, as Dean stared back at him. His eyes flicked over to Cas, narrowing as he recognized the older guy. He looked back to Dean, shaking his head slightly, incredulous. Finally, Dean had broken the silence, gently speaking Ben's name, hoping to calm the rage he could see in his friend's face. But Ben had exploded, yelling at Dean first.

"What the fuck, man?! You're not, you…You're not queer, man! This guy," he said, flinging an accusing hand towards Cas, "he's messing with your head, Dean! He's messing with you, and you can't see that!"

Suddenly he turned on Cas and had him pinned against the wall, making as if to punch him. "What the fuck is your problem? He's a kid, you fucking pedophile!"

Dean had grabbed Ben's shoulders and held him at arms length, trying to calm him down. "Hey man, it's okay! It's okay. You can hit me, you can do whatever you need to, just calm down, okay?"

Ben was almost sobbing, and Dean let go. Ben backed away, despair written all over his face. "I don't wanna hit you, Dean," he choked out. "But you aren't queer. You aren't like this bastard."

He spat in the general direction of Cas, who had said nothing during the whole encounter. Dean grabbed his face and made him look into his eyes. His voice was menacing.

"If you ever do anything like that again, I will beat you down. Now you're gonna listen to me, and you're gonna listen good. I am still the same guy you knew a year ago. Nothing has changed. My name is Dean Winchester, I am sixteen years old, I've completed sophomore year at Grady high school, and my best friend is Benny Maxwell."

"No." Ben whispered.

"Excuse me?" Dean was on the verge of punching him.

"No," he said louder. "No, no, no. I'm not your best friend. I can't be. And you're wrong, Dean. You're not the guy I knew a year ago. A year ago you flirted with every girl you saw. You had four girlfriends in sophomore year. You pulled a sophomore, two juniors, and a senior. You were an idol, Dean! And what are you now? Just some sad kid pretending to be homo, having makeout sessions with a college guy for kicks. How's that for not changing, you motherfucker?"

He shook Dean off and walked away. Dean hadn't spoken to him again after that.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, and he realized he had been sleeping. It was dark now; he had missed the sunset. He realized the beach was empty. Cas was smiling down at him, his face dimly lit by the flashlight they had brought.

"Hey," he whispered. "You wanna go for a swim?"

Dean felt excitement rush through him, and he stood quickly, helping Cas up. They raced across the sand, laughing, then yelling when they splashed into the frigid ocean. Dean scooped up a handful of dark sand from under the waves, and flung it at Cas, hitting him square in the face. Cas retaliated with mock fury, flinging sand every which way, until Dean was plastered from head to torso. He dove underwater to wash off the foul smelling muck, and when he came back up Cas was nowhere to be seen. Not that Dean could see much; the half moon was all that lit the ocean. Still, he was a bit worried, until he felt hands grasp his waist from under the water and pull him down. Dean laughed inwardly as a pair of lips met his own, soft and smooth with the water. After a few seconds, the two burst out of the water, laughing and gasping for air. They soon quieted and were left looking into each others eyes. Dean could barely see the familiar hunger blaze up in Castiel's eyes, but he could sense it in the way his body hardened, he could feel it in the way Cas gripped his arm, just a bit tighter than usual.

"Dean." He said, voice low. Dean held his gaze and nodded. They made their way to shore, Cas leading Dean by the hand. They got back to where their towels were, and Dean laid on his back, watching Cas as he lay beside him and propped himself up with one elbow. Cas reached a hand over to brush Dean's cheek, total awe in his eyes.

"Has anyone ever told you how godlike you are?" he whispered.

Dean knew the question was rhetorical, so he said nothing, just continued to look into Cas's eyes. Finally, Cas positioned himself over Dean and pressed their lips together, creating silent music with their perfect synchronization. His tongue darted in and out of Dean's mouth, giving way when he returned the favor. Cas was completely on top of Dean now, moving with him in a strange dance brought on by their similar bodies. He slowly brought his lips down from Dean's, moving them instead to his cheek, his neck, his chest, his torso. The butterfly feeling of his warm lips sent courses of energy through Dean's entire being. He grasped at the sand beside him, trying to get a grip on something. Cas looked up at him. "Dean…"

"I'm fine," Dean rushed to assure him. "just…this is my first time, okay?"

Cas sighed and laid his head against Dean's stomach. "God damn, Dean…you're a piece of work."

Dean ran his sandy fingers through Cas's hair. "It's okay," he whispered. "I want this. I want you."

He could feel Cas smile against his warm skin. "You're going to regret saying that tomorrow morning."

Dean frowned. "I don't care. I really don't. Just please, Cas…please."

"Okay," Cas said, placing his hands on Dean's hipbones. "But don't say I didn't tell you so." Dean nodded, and rolled over onto his stomach with his ass in the air as Cas eased his swim trunks down off of his ankles. Dean groaned at how embarrassingly erect he was, but Cas merely smiled, taking his own shorts off. He knelt to the ground behind Dean, looking him over. Dean felt extremely uncomfortable, but kept his silence. He looked back at Cas, and was surprised to see his cock erect as well. Cas saw him looking, and his expression became serious.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," he said softly. He spat on his hand and grabbed Dean's cock, pumping erratically for a few moments before he found his rhythm. Dean came childishly fast and he felt his cheeks grow hot with shame, but Cas said nothing. He moistened his hand with the cum and spread Dean's ass, inserting one finger up to the second knuckle. Dean gasped at the sudden pain and looked over his shoulder at Cas. "Is it supposed to feel like that?" he asked indignantly.

Cas grinned wolfishly. "I told you you would regret wanting this."

Dean groaned and laid his head on the sand, trying his best to relax. As Cas slid his finger farther into Dean's ass, Dean silently sighed. The pain was much more bearable this time. Then he felt another finger at his asshole, and whimpered, about to call the whole thing off, but before he could, there were two fingers up his butt, twisting around to make the opening even looser. He roared as he felt his ass go up in flames, but Cas showed no mercy. Suddenly, after what seemed like years of excruciation, Dean felt pleasure.

"What the hell? Cas, what did you do?"

Cas laughed. "Found your sweet spot. You're a great big baby when it comes to butt sex, Dean, and I haven't even put my dick in you yet."

Dean rolled his eyes and turned away, not quite as in dread as he had been two minutes ago. Cas slowly removed his fingers, and Dean grunted, but the pain was barely noticeable. Finally, Dean felt the tip of Castiel's cock rub teasingly against his newly expanded asshole, and he almost shouted at Castiel to just put it in already, but then he did, Dean's eyes fluttered shut, and they were making love. Cas thrust into Dean, gently at first, then more forcefully, grasping Dean's cock in one hand and Dean's ass in the other. Dean felt himself come into Cas's hand for the second time that night, but he was too exhilarated to care. The movement of Cas's hips against his ass felt natural, as though they were two puzzle pieces fitting together for the first time. Everything was perfect. He could feel Cas tense up, at the edge of climax, and he groaned as he came into Dean, his love fluid flowing through the younger guy. His thrusts slowed as his pulled out, breathing heavily. He flung himself down in the sand beside Dean, utterly spent. Dean spread himself out over the warm sand, turning over so he could see the stars. He smiled to himself, listening to the nightly sounds of the coast. The wind, blowing softly through the tall grasses. The hypnotizing lull of waves hitting the shore. Cas breathing. He turned his face to see Cas looking at him.

"Bullshit," the blue eyed guy muttered, never dropping his gaze.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What?"

Cas laughed, looking up into the sky. "There's no way you were a virgin before this." He looked back at Dean, watching as his lips parted in a sheepish grin.

"Well, sure, I've been with tons of girls."

Cas laughed again, cutting him off, but Dean continued hurriedly. "I mean, I'd never…you know…well my ass was still a virgin so I'm not completely damaged goods."

Cas rolled his eyes. "Dean, that was last year. Its not like I'm a virgin, either, but that's all behind us." He lifted himself so he could look directly into Dean's eyes from above, and Dean blushed with the intensity of his gaze. "I love you, Dean. And nothing you could say or do will ever change that. Do you understand?" Dean nodded, looking away. "No," Cas said firmly, taking Dean's chin and making him look into his eyes. "I need you to look into my eyes when I say things like that. I don't know if you understand how much I care about you, and that's okay. But I want you to believe me when I say I would die for you."

Dean furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to speak, but Cas stopped him with a kiss.

Dean gently pushed him away for a second. "Now I get to tell you something," he said softly. Cas smirked, but made it clear he would listen. Dean cleared his throat, looking down into his hands, then fixed his gaze on the spot right between Cas's eyes.

"That was some amazing sex."

Cas's eyes widened as his jaw dropped, speechless. Dean pushed him into a seated position and climbed into his lap.

"But even though you're experienced in the area of anal fucking," he said, as he moved to get his thighs over Cas's, "I have a few tricks of my own."

Cas was still shocked, but he managed to get out a strangled "God I love you-" before Dean's mouth crashed into his own.

The next morning, Dean couldn't sit down. He had crept into the house late the night before, and had managed to sneak in without waking Sam or his parents. Now, however, they couldn't help but notice his strange behavior. At the breakfast table, Dean's mom, Mary, pulled out a chair for him, but Dean shook his head.

"I'll stand, thanks."

Mary laughed. "We're eating, Dean. You need to sit."

Dean looked pleadingly towards his dad, who shrugged and turned away, already eating his eggs. Dean turned towards Sam.

"Sammy, help me out here." Sam looked up at his older brother. "What did you call me?"

Dean opened his mouth, about to say something vulgar, but thought better of it. Sam looked away with a wicked grin on his face and began to shovel eggs into his mouth. Dean looked back at his mother, who raised her eyebrows.

"It's not as if I'm asking you to cut your hand off. You sit, or you don't eat."

Dean sighed, sending a silent prayer up to the unknown. He sat and let out a tight growl, closing his eyes, waiting for the pain to pass, but it didn't, and he stood again. He turned towards his mother again, tears of agony welling in his eyes, and excused himself from breakfast. He limped out of the room, all eyes on him, dialing Cas's number as he walked As he opened his bedroom door, Cas picked up.

"Hello, Dean," he said in a mockingly sultry voice.

"Cas, you son of a bitch."

Dean waited for Cas to understand, which didn't take long. He burst out laughing, the volume of his voice causing Dean to flinch. He slowly began to calm down, gasping for air. "I'm…" he was still laughing. "I told you, I told you…I told you you would regret it,"

Dean couldn't help smiling, hearing the amusement in Cas's voice, but he quickly regained his composure. "It's not funny, Cas. My parents are gonna know something's up."

Cas immediately stopped laughing. "I didn't think about that," he said, sounding worried.

They were quiet for a moment, thinking. Dean heard Cas inhale slowly. "I'll come and pick you up, okay? We can talk about this over breakfast."

Dean nodded, secretly thanking him for the second chance at food that morning. He hung up and walked out of his room, reentering the dining room. His dad had left for work, and Sam was clearing the last of the dishes from the table. Dean walked over to his mom, doing his best to walk normally. "Hey mom, I'm sorry about breakfast…"

She looked at him, concern in her eyes. "It's alright, Dean, but I'm worried about you. What was that earlier?"

He looked down. "I have this really bad…rash…in an awkward spot," he said, playing on her motherly instincts.

"Oh sweetie," she said, grimacing. "Well if you need something to-"

He cut her off before she could finish whatever unpleasant thing she was going to say. "No mom, it's okay. It's getting better. Really. Now I'm gonna go hang out with some of the guys. Is that okay?"

Her brow was still furrowed. "Are you sure you don't want me to take a look at-"

"Bye mom," He said, walking quickly out of the house. He breathed in the fresh hair, clearing his head, and was surprised when not two minutes later Castiel came tearing down the street in his ancient ford. Dean opened the door and got in, talking as he gingerly sat down. "Two questions. Why are you driving like a lunatic, and how in the hell did you get here so fast?" Cas smiled, shaking his head, and looked at Dean. "No 'hello'? No 'Gee, Cas, last night sure was fun, let's do it again soon'?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Remember why I called you?"

"Right. I'm a pain in the ass, is that it?"

Dean laughed at the stupid pun. "You know what? Forget it. Let's just go get food. I'm starving."

They both ordered the same thing- a bacon cheeseburger with fries- and said nothing as they waited. Dean looked out of the window, and Cas looked at Dean, eyes roving over his sharp features and sandy hair. He wondered if Dean ever stared at him the way he was doing. The fact that he had entered eagerly into their relationship was a miracle in and of itself, but Cas doubted that Dean truly felt anything towards him. He was too young, too impulsive…too experimental. Cas felt despair rise up like a black cloud when the thought crossed his mind. "What if that's all I am?" he thought. "What if I'm just an experiment?" The arrival of their food cut his musings short, and he forced himself to smile as Dean's face lit up. He noticed Cas's expression and stopped, concern spreading over his face to replace his previous happiness. "What's wrong?"

Cas smiled halfheartedly. "Oh, you know, just post-sex depression."

Dean snorted. "Is that even a thing?"

Cas frowned, and Dean immediately apologized. "Hey man, I'm sorry. Whatever it is…well you know I'm here, right?" He leaned forward, brushing his lips against Cas's ear. "I love you, even if you don't believe it."

Cas felt a shiver run through him, and it took all his will not to kiss the mouth of the earnest boy in front of him. Dean grinned slyly.

"You know, my family is going out of town this weekend. They want me to come, but I was thinking maybe we could…hang out…instead."

Cas felt himself harden, and his heart began to race as he imagined an entire weekend alone with Dean. His thoughts from a moment ago seemed ridiculous, and he smiled back at Dean.

"You certainly know how to make a man feel better," he said, smirking, and Dean nodded.

"It's my specialty. Now I think we should probably talk about my alibi. I mean, now that we crossed the initial bridge, I have the feeling that we're going to be crossing a lot more any day now. I can't very well continue with the rash story, so we have to figure something out."

Cas couldn't speak. Dean's innuendos had left him imagining very dirty things, and he grew hot as he realized Dean was looking at him intently, expecting an answer. "Um…"

"Oh my god. Useless."

Dean threw his hands up into the air in mock frustration. "I might as well pitch! It would be so much simpler! It's not like your family thinks you're straight."

Cas squinted at Dean, trying to decide if he was serious.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay what?"

Dean looked at him blankly.

"Okay, why don't you try it? Being top, I mean."

Dean paled. "What the hell? You're the one with experience, and it's not as if I even know how to-"

"I'll teach you." Cas said firmly. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. "And you won't have to all the time. But let's just try it."

Dean looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"I…"

Cas set his jaw, and got out of the booth. "Come on," he said

"But we haven't paid-"

Cas set a twenty dollar bill on the table. "There. Now we've paid. Let's go.

"But I haven't-"

"Oh shut up." Cas grabbed Dean's arm and led him out of the restaurant.

Dean had regained the ability to form sentences when they got to Cas's house, but when they got inside and began walking towards Cas's room, he tried to escape.

"Cas please," he begged, eyes wide. "I can't, I really can't, I'm not ready…"

Cas smiled to himself. "It's a hell of a lot better than being on the receiving end, Dean. Just calm down and trust me. Can you do that for me?"

Dean made a face, but stopped struggling. When they got into the room, Cas shut the door, dimmed the lights, and turned on the flatscreen. He immediately saw Dean relax, and almost laughed. As he navigated to a video player, Dean began to ask what they were going to watch, a slight edge in his voice. Finally, Cas found the file, and selected it. Two men appeared on the screen.

"Oh no," Dean whispered, making as if to get up.

"Oh yes," Cas snarled playfully. He grabbed Dean and wrapped his arms around him, forcing him to sit and forming a cage with his body. Dean cried out, despair in his voice.

"I thought you loved me," he whimpered.

"Now what could I possibly have done to make you think that?"

Dean began to moan, but Cas put a hand over his mouth.

"Oh no you don't. That's for later." Dean made a half hearted attempt to get away, but he finally became still, and Cas pressed play. Dean groaned softly throughout the entire thing, and one part in particular made him attempt to turn away, making a loud disgusted sound deep in his throat, but Cas used his hands to force his head back towards the screen. Finally, at the very end, Cas let go of Dean, who got up rubbing his temples.

"That was terrible," he said.

"Yes, it was," Cas agreed.

"Why would you force me to watch something like that?"

Cas shrugged. "Do you know how it works now?"

Dean sighed heavily. "I know too much about how it works now. There were-"

"Well there you go," Cas said. Dean looked at him darkly. Cas stood up, brushing past him as he walked to his dresser drawers. He opened the top one and pulled out a small container, which Dean immediately recognized as lubricant. He made a small squeaky noise and turned towards the door, but Cas grabbed him in a backwards bearhug.

"Oh no you don't," he whispered into Dean's ear, slipping a hand under his shirt. Dean melted at his touch.

"It's fucking impossible to struggle with your hands all over me," he said angrily.

Cas smiled. "That's the idea."

Dean turned around, utterly conflicted. He looked down at Cas's pants, blushing.

"I'm scared." He looked back into Cas's eyes, defiant.

"Yeah, I got that," Cas muttered snidely, but Dean wasn't finished.

"You don't get it, do you? It hurts, and I don't want to hurt you! I don't ever want to hurt you! I know I put on this tough guy act, and I know you don't believe me when I say I love you, but I do! I would die for you, Castiel, and because you don't believe that, I have to act like I don't even care. But you're a fucking idiot if you won't believe me when I say that you are the most important thing in this universe to me."

He pushed Cas onto the bed, flipping him over onto his stomach. "And now I'm pissed off."

He pulled down Cas's pants with one hand, undoing his own with the other. He flipped the lid off of the lube and spread a generous amount on his fingers, surveying Cas's ass briefly before plunging one finger in all at once. Cas bit the pillow, too shocked by the recent turn of events to fully comprehend the pain. After twisting it about a bit, Dean inserted the second finger. When he was satisfied, he pulled his fingers out of Cas, and began to lube up his cock. He smiled grimly, gripping Cas's ass, and thrust into the opening. Cas gasped, clenching the pillows in front of him, beginning to feel the need for release. Dean was inexperienced but had rhythm, and Cas was soon reaching for his own cock, unable to resist the urge. Dean growled low, menacing, and Cas groaned. Only a minute after, Dean came into Cas with a final thrust and pulled out, but he wasn't done.

"Turn over," he commanded.

Cas was utterly bewildered by Dean's complete change of attitude, but he complied. Dean crawled over his knees, cock dragging over his stomach, and bent his head down to kiss Cas's neck. He trailed his kisses down, softly biting at his collarbone, not-so-softly biting his chest. Finally, his lips fastened around Cas's pink head, tongue darting around his slit. Cas inhaled sharply as Dean's tongue dragged up his dick, causing blood to rush to the erect member, making it stand even straighter. Dean took Cas's entire length into his mouth, teeth brushing the tender flesh ever so gently, mouth moving in unison with Cas's desperate bucking as he came into Dean's mouth. Dean looked up, straight into Cas's eyes, and swallowed what wasn't dripping down his chin. Cas came again, soaking the sheets beneath him, as Dean grabbed his waist in his large hands and trailed his lips back up to his neck, leaving small love bites in their path. He stopped as he softly kissed a spot just beneath Cas's jaw and laid his head on Cas's shoulder, slowly calming down. Cas stared at him.

"You will never cease to-"

Dean looked up sharply, anger threatening to flare up again. "Don't talk," he said fiercely.

Cas, taken aback, said nothing, laying his head back on his pillow and looking up at the ceiling. Dean's steady breathing had a hypnotizing effect and Cas soon fell asleep, one arm under his head, one around Dean Winchester.

When Cas woke up, it was almost midnight. He glanced over at Dean, who had moved closer to him in his sleep. His tan body was lit by the dim overhead bulb, and his face was relaxed in a rare expression of utter calm. Cas smiled, brushing the hair out of the younger guy's face. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered, and Dean opened his eyes.

"I know." he replied.

"Oh, so it's okay for me to talk now?"

Dean blushed. "Cas, I don't know what happened to me earlier-"

"It's okay. Call me crazy, but it turned me on." Cas smirked, shifting himself so his entire body was facing Dean. "That wasn't entirely unpleasant. Are you sure that was your first time?" Dean was indignant. "Hey, first of all, I know for a fact that you loved that. Unless you call coming twice a bad thing, I'd say I did damn well. As for that being my first time, well, what can I say? I'm a fast learner, I guess."

Cas acted as if he hadn't heard him. "I think it's because you were angry," he said, pensive. "I guess the secret is just to get you really pissed before we get in bed. That would take care of the parents issue."

Dean looked annoyed. "But what about me? I don't know if you've forgotten, but that night on the beach was pretty fucking amazing. And while you might have loved last night, it was a little hard for me to enjoy, seeing as I was mad as hell."

Cas sighed. "Okay. So if you were willing to deal with your parents' questions, then maybe we could do 50/50."

Dean thought about it for a second, then started laughing. Cas rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face.

"What did I do this time?" he asked, pretending to be upset. Dean stopped laughing, shaking his head.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just, we're sitting here, completely naked, talking about who can fuck who and when. It's just a little surreal, don't you think?"

Cas raised an eyebrow and said nothing, putting both arms behind his head.

"Okay," Dean said, frustrated. "50/50. And you stay at my place this weekend. Deal?"

Cas shrugged, still not saying anything. Dean grimaced.

"Fine. 40/60, me being the 60."

Cas sat up again, smiling triumphantly. "I win," he said, giving Dean a peck on the cheek. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that,"

Dean grumbled, all efforts at remaining angry completely futile. He watched Cas stand up and put on a pair of sweatpants, and caught the pair that were thrown at him.

"I'm going downstairs to get food," Cas announced.

"Do you want to come, or should I get you something?"

"I'll come," Dean said, sliding his feet into the warm cotton pants and drawing them up over his legs.

"We have to be quiet though. My parents are still convinced that my…thing…last year was a phase."

Dean nodded, not surprised. He had decided that the Mizrahi parents were the kind that supported you wholeheartedly until you did something to put their social status into jeopardy, and a homosexual son was just the thing to do that. Dean wondered how extreme his punishment would be if his parents found out that their eldest son had a boyfriend. He shook his head and followed Cas down the stairs