"Do you have any idea what time it is, dude?" Dean rubs at his eyes sleepily, shuffling out from within the darkened depths of his bedroom.

Castiel stands in the kitchen of their shared flat, staring intently at the coffee pot as it slowly heats up. His hair clings to his face; clothing soaked through and dripping, a puddle rapidly forming around his feet. Wet patches on the linoleum trace his path from the front door, where his equipment has been dumped in a pile.

"Of course. It is exactly twelve minutes past three in the morning." He says in a monotone voice, shivering a little, but otherwise not moving.

"You know, I do need to get my beauty sleep at some point, Cas."

The other man still doesn't move, eyes fixed straight ahead and expression blank.

Dean sighs. This guy. Honestly. How was he attracted to him, again? "Wait there, I'll get towels."

His roommate hasn't moved an inch by the time Dean comes back into the kitchen – of course - with a collection of towels, dropping one on the floor around Castiel's feet.

"You've really gotta stop staying out so late, buddy." Dean says as he tugs the long overcoat from the other man's shoulders, wrapping a large, fluffy towel around him in its place. "I know it's for class, but you have to draw a line at some point."

Dean throws another towel across his shoulders when he shivers again. "I mean, you look like shit, dude."

Castiel doesn't respond, but when the coffee pot dings, he pours himself a large cup, and immediately starts to knock the entire thing straight back.

"Woah! Jesus, what the hell, Cas!" Dean rips the mug from the shorter man's hands, swearing loudly as the boiling liquid splashes onto his hand. "Christ!"

The Winchester roughly pushes his roommate onto a kitchen stool, slamming the half drained mug down onto the counter beside him as he sits to face the other other man. "Talk to me, man. What's going on?"

Castiel seems to come back to himself somewhat, and presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, breathing deeply for a moment. When he opens them again, blinking away the dark spots in his vision, he finally levels his gaze at Dean, and just looks at him. Really looks at him. Dean shifts uncomfortably on the stool.

"Cas, what-"

"Have you ever been attracted to another man before?"

Dean leans back in his seat, swallowing thickly. "I...uh.." Only once. "...Um, no."

But Castiel looks at him like he can see right through him, and Dean swallows again, desperately trying to moisten his suddenly parched throat. He can't seem to stop stuttering.

"Well...I...uh...no...I mean...I'm not...I don't..."

"Nor am I." Castiel cuts him off, trapping Dean's eyes in his intense and unbroken stare. The Winchester can't figure out how to pull his gaze away.

"Then why...?" He's cut off again, this time, when his roommate reaches out and kisses him squarely on the lips. It's short and rushed, but Dean misses the contact the moment Castiel pulls away, and he knows instantly that he's more screwed than he's ever been before in his whole life.

"Well, fuck."