Dean clenches his jaw, pinches his brows and locks his eyes hard on the guy who pretty much just ruined his whole day.

"Hey! This is not fair! This douche-bag cut in front of me!" Dean shouts, as he attempts to throw the security guards hands off his shoulders.

The guard grabs him by the biceps and shoves him, "You wanna get kicked outta the airport? Huh? D'ya?"

Dean stutters, "N-no, but that guy cut me off!" He yells, waving his hands around in front of the guy, "I was next and he just butt in! I had every right to push him!"

The guy looks at Dean, eyebrows raised and a "I-have-never-been-to-an-airport" confused look. His cheeks are flushing immensely, "I-I, uh, I apologize. I hadn't realized the line started back there. I—"

"Shove it up your ass!" Dean spits at him, swatting his hand out to him and brushing the side of his trench coat. He would've hit harder, but the guard was already pulling him back toward the end of the line.

"That's it, kid! End of the line!"

Dean squirms under the strong arms, "What?! No! That's not fair! I'm going to miss my flight! Flight 401 leaves at eleven! "He yells, unable to push out of the guards grasp. His feet drag against the tile and made a loud squeak, which draws all eyes on him.

The man's hands are like clamps against Dean's arms. "Life's not fair, kid."

4 minutes and 23 seconds earlier...

Finally.

Dean's teeth chatter in anticipation as he watches the person in front of him go through the checkout security line. The two hour wait has seemed to go by reasonably quick, and Dean passes time by watching some of the good looking flight attendants pass by and head on to their terminals. He's even received a sly wink from one of them, in which he'd quickly returned the gesture, but then has to remind himself that he's engaged.

But, despite the frequent googley-eyes, it is still a long wait for a mere thirty-second check, and Dean is more than happy to finally be at the front of the line.

"Next!"

Dean smiles, "Halleluja—"

And suddenly Dean's shoulder is pushed with an incredible force, knocking his airplane ticket and passport directly out of his hand. He keels over a little bit, unexpectedly getting whipped in the face by a coat.

"What the hell, dude?" Dean groans as he rubs his cheeks before coming face-to-face with a guy that looks like he hadn't the slightest clue what he'd just done. The man is tall, not taller than Dean, but tall. His hair is mussed and he's red as a goddamn tomato. The guy doesn't say anything, but Dean inadvertently gives him a little shove on the shoulder, which knocks the guy back way farther than Dean intends it to, causing him to fall full fledge on the security guard next to him.

"Hey!" The guard yells, "What's going on here?"

Dean parts his mouth to call out the good-for-nothing-jerk that had just cut him off, but the guy speaks up before Dean has a chance to. "I-I was just in line. They-uh, called next."

Dean scoffs, raising his chest to the guy as if to shove him again, "Are you kidding me? You just cut the whole line!" Dean screams, thrusting his body toward the man as he grabs his elbow and yanks him in the direction toward the end of the line. The man gasps.

The guard grabs Dean's hand and jerks it away from the guy's arm, "Knock it off, kid!"

Dean pulls his hand away, "Knock what off? I didn't do anything! This asshole cut me off! I was next!"

The guard grunts and clasps his hands onto Dean's shoulders, propelling him toward the back of the line, "That's it, kid! End of the line."

The guard plops him down at the end of the line with a deep breath, which clouds Dean's face and makes him grimace, "Dude, you need a tic-tac."

The guy clenches his jaw, "One more like that and you're outta here," He says before he walks away, turning around to Dean one more time, pointing his fat finger up at him, "And don't make me come back here, got it?"

Dean rolls his eyes, "Yeah sure, okay." he groans, adjusting the straps on his backpack. He manages to catch a look at the guy who cut him off as he leaves the security check-out and starts heading to the gates. The guy looks back at Dean and immediately gapes away when he catches Dean staring, his eyes twitching with panic.

Yeah, that's right, you fucking idiot. You should be afraid of me.

Dean bites the inside of his cheek as he watches him leave, practically skipping the entire security check-out line and basically going right into the gate. And if that doesn't rile him up enough, all the jerk had managed to say was 'I apologize'. How could the guards not make him go to the end? And why was nobody behind him defending him in the least?

No, I mean it's not like you fucking cut me off in line after a two hour wait, making me go all the way to the back of the line and having to wait another two fucking hours, and not to mention I'm probably going to miss my damn flight because of you.

Dean balls up his fists as he takes deep breaths in and out. If he misses his flight, he's screwed. So fucking screwed. He needs to make it to Sam's wedding, and god, if he doesn't, he would be in deep shit. He's already missed the rehearsal, not to mention he's been promising to see his brother for months, but things kept coming up and he'd have to cancel. Sure, yeah, he could take another flight, but that would mean more waiting, and Dean just wants to get back to New York as fast as he can.

He can't disappoint his brother, no matter how much he hated that snob, Ruby, he was marrying. He almost wants to skip the wedding, as if to emphasize his point to Sam about how much he hates her and the attitude that Ruby gives him, even when he gives her his best attempt at being nice. Sam always pesters him about it whenever Dean brings it up.

"Give her a chance, Dean! She's really a wonderful girl!"

"Wonderful girl my ass." He'd say, in which Sam would only roll his eyes and scoff in the back of his throat at him.

Despite his hatred, he knew he still had to go. And now, he has no idea if he was going to get on his flight, all because of some stupid jackass in a trench coat.

His brows sunk down and his mouth clasps as his eyes trail over the long line. And he couldn't do anything but stand there and wait. And with his luck, he'd miss his flight and then he's beyond screwed, all because of some idiot who didn't know where the front of the line was.


When he finally makes it to the end of checkout, his feet hurt from standing, but that doesn't stop him from booking it to his gate. He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he runs.

10:58 P.M.

He tips over a few people on the way there by accident, but still continues to run anyway, and doesn't bother to yell out a "Sorry!".

When he gets to his gate, nobody's there. Which means—

Shit! They already boarded!

Dean runs up to the counter at the gate, "Okay, okay, I'm here, can I please go on? I'm sorry I—"

The girl at the counter interrupts him as she folds her hands together on the desk and smiles, "Flight 401 has already boarded, sir. I'm sorry but you'll—"

Dean slams his hands on the counter, "God dammit, please! Please! You don't understand! It's my brother's wedding and I need—"

"I'm sorry, sir but I can't let—"

"Please! I'm begging you! Please!" Dean yells. His head begins to pound. He really could not miss this flight.

The girl purses her lips and sighs. "Fine. I will let you on. You're lucky I'm as nice as I am. And you're lucky you're one fine looking specimen."

Dean practically squeals as he raises his eyebrows at her, "Thank you! Thank you so much-uh—" Dean peers at her name tag as she leads him to the door, "Uhh — Pamela. Thank you so much, Pamela. I really appreciate it, you have no idea."

Pamela grins at him and places a hand on his lower back as she leads him to the door, "Mhm, I know you do, sweet cheeks."

Dean returns the smile at her as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. He shuts the door behind him and steps onto the platform that leads to the airplane. Thank God he wasn't married yet, or the wedding ring on his finger would've blew it. Speaking of which, Dean suddenly feels a smidge of guilt grow in his stomach. Yes, he was engaged, but he needed to get on the plane.

He shakes it off as he walks down the platform and onto the plane, where he's greeted by a flight attendant named Bela who seems to give him a bit of a glare given the fact that he's late, but she tries to put on that fake flight attendant smile on her face as she takes his ticket.

"Seat 24A. Do you need any help with your bags, sir?" She says as she hands him back the ticket.

"Nah, I'm all set, thanks." Dean mutters, pushing past her. She nods at him and begins following him down the tight isle, checking carry-ons and seat belts.

Dean squeezes through the isle as he counts the numbers above the seats, and when he finally reaches section 24, he immediately stops.

He turns around to Bela again, "Um, yeah, excuse me? I need my seat changed."

Bela walks up to him with a fused glare plastered onto her pretty face, "And why is that? Something wrong?"

Dean scoffs, "Hell yes there is something wrong. That guy that's next to me? Yeah, see him?" Dean turns and points to the guy, "This fucker cut me off at security and I had to wait another two damn hours in the line. I barely made it to the plane!"

Bela raises open hands up in front of her chest and parts her lips, "Um, excuse me, but first off, that language is not tolerated on this flight. Got it? And secondly, you're lucky you even made it onto this plane. If it were me at the counter, I wouldn'tve let you on. But Pam, she has a soft spot for sweet ass like you, so you're very lucky for that too. Now, I suggest you take your damn seat before I kick you off this damn plane."

"Huh," Dean groans at her, surprised that she has that kind of kick in her little petite body, "Alright, fine." He says, stepping in front of his row before turning back to her one last time, "And by the way, that language is not tolerated on this damn plane."

Bela rolls her eyes and takes a huge breath before she walks away. Dean cackles before drawing his attention to the guy below him, who is already staring at him.

Just my fucking luck.

Dean looks at him harshly, "Wanna' get up so I can get by?" He spits at him, still greatly annoyed with him even though he had made the flight.

The man stands up in his seat, making enough room for Dean so he could pass, "Of course, my apologies."

Dean passes him and flops down in his seat, "Out of all the fucking seats on the plane..." Dean mutters to himself as he looks out the window and into the dark sky.

"Excuse me?"

Dean turns his head to find that the man is already staring at him with his big eyes, his pupils basically so large they almost cover the deep blue irises around them. "Nothing, man." Dean groans, his stomach already filling with anger at even the look of this guy.

The guy clears his throat, "I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot," He says as he holds an open hand to him, "My name is Castiel. Castiel Milton."

Dean looks at his hand, then back up to his eyes, grunts, and turns his attention back to the window.

My name's Fuck You, nice to make your acquaintance.

He hears Castiel shuffle in his seat next to him before he clears his throat again. Dean gives him a small glare and see's that he looks really...upset. Alright fine, he was confused about where the front of the line was, alright that wasn't entirely his fault. Dean rolls his eyes before sticking his hand out.

"Dean Winchester," He groans, and Castiel turns to him and exchanges a small smile that Dean can't help but return. Castiel takes his hand a tightly shakes it, and Dean is greeted with a warm, soft and kind of sweaty hand, but he still forces himself to smile. Castiel's eyes seem to really pierce into him, and Dean isn't sure how it makes him feel.

Castiel smiles even bigger, so much that Dean can see the lining of his gums and his nose crinkle at the top, "Nice to meet you, Dean."

Dean looks down and realizes he is still holding the guys hand, which he quickly pulls away when he notices, "Mhm," he hums, pulling his hand away and then rubbing it against his knee. Dean is still staring at him long enough to also notice that Castiel's eyes follow his hand down to his knee, and he is still watching as he rubs it.

Alright, that's a little creepy.

Dean quickly takes his hand off his leg and returns his attention back to the window.

The lights above him turn off and the wheels creak as the plane starts up, and Dean shuts his eyes and leans his head back before taking a deep breath and attempting to relax on his five hour flight to California.


Dean wakes up an hour and a half later with a fucking massive urge to pee, and he feels a dreadful cramp in his right shoulder. His eyes are still a little blurry from just waking up, but he manages to look over and he makes out the brown messy hair that was pressing against his shoulder and tickling his neck. And, of fucking course it is Castiel, out stone-cold against him and breathing warm and heavy against his shoulder and chest.

And he doesn't mean to, he really doesn't mean to, but Dean turns toward him and just kinda...smiles. His hair smells like a mix between mint and honey, which Dean really doesn't mean to notice, and he see's that Castiel's eyelashes twitch a little when he breathes, which Dean really really doesn't mean to notice. The sudden bump of turbulence again shakes him from his 'momentary lapse', and reminds him that he really just needs to fucking piss.

The turbulence manages to shake Castiel just enough that he inadvertently moves his head, leaving Dean's shoulder now bare and also leaving a little spot of drool right below his collar.

Yeah, ew?

The plane shakes a little again, and Dean's bladder really doesn't agree with that. He looks over to Castiel, calm, content and fast asleep, and Dean just does not want to wake him up. Dean starts becoming angry with himself because he can't find the willpower in him to wake Castiel up and tell him to move so he can just fucking pee. For Christ sake he's made old ladies stand up before just so he could go talk to that hot girl that just walked by, hoping maybe he'd make it into the mile high club, but god, for the life of him, he can't wake this guy up so he could just fucking take a piss.

And about half an hour later, Dean is ready to pee in the empty water bottle that is in his backpack. Crossing his legs did not help, because his damn balls just kept making everything uncomfortable no matter how many times he tried to casually adjust himself. He tried not to think about it, but trying not to think about it made things almost ten times worse because he just kept telling himself not to think about it over and over again in his head, which is a really dumb idea because well, he still was thinking about it.

And if it can't get any worse, the plane shakes again, way more than usual and Dean lets out an unexpected whimper. Castiel shuffles next to him, making a weird breathing noise in the back of his throat, followed by a very deep groan before he opens his eyes.

And wow he has a very deep groan — I mean, well voice.

"Oh thank god!" Dean shouts, unbuckling his belt and standing over Castiel, who is looking at Dean like he's the sun, squinting his eyes and nose and covering his face with his hands.

And then Castiel speaks in a deep I-just-woke-up kind of voice, "Mm—what? Huh?" His voice is gravely and strangely...attractive.

Stop it, Dean! Bad!

Dean clears his throat before looking down at Castiel still in a tired phase, "Dude, would you mind getting up? I really gotta pee."

Castiel wavers for a few moments, "Of course, my apologies, Dean." He groans, unbuckling and standing to meet Dean's eyes before backing out of the isle for Dean to pass. Castiel eyes him like a magnet, and wow, this guy sure as hell knows how to stare.

"Thanks, man." Dean says, brushing past his arm, accidentally making Castiel let out a little "oompf" in his deep and gravely voice again, which he manages to do directly into Dean's ear.

STOP IT, DEAN. STOP. STOP. STOP.

He brushes it off as he tries to run normally to the bathroom, but accidentally ends up looking like he has a stick up his ass. And wow, peeing had never felt so damn good. After he's finished, he turns to stare at the mirror, taking the ring Sam gave him and putting it on the counter before he sighs and washes his hands. Then for some reason, he just can't get Castiel's groan out of his head. He grimaces at himself in the mirror before holding up a pointed finger directly at his reflection.

"Dean Winchester, you are engaged. Stop that. You're not even gay!" He says to himself as he shakes his head and retorts his low voice to a whisper, "God, you just watch way to much porn."

He leaves the bathroom and begins his walk back down to his row. He stops and stands above Castiel who is, surprise surprise, fast asleep.

He fell asleep? That quickly? Are you fucking kidding me?

Dean lets out an irritated sigh before he places a hand on Castiel's shoulder, shaking it a little, "Uh, dude? Castiel? Wake up."

Castiel doesn't budge. His face is turned directly outward towards Dean, and Dean bends down a little in fear that if Castiel did open his eyes, he'd be greeted with a nice face full of Dean's crotch. Dean leans down and sticks his butt out in the isle and shakes Castiel harder, "Castiel? C'mon, man!"

Someone taps Dean on his back behind him, "Excuse me, sir."

Dean turns and see's a woman behind him. She's blocked by his butt pretty much taking up the entire main isle.

God, dammit, Castiel.

Dean flattens his body out and doesn't really have any other choice but to press closer to Castiel's face in order to let this girl by. She squishes behind him, pressing her side into Dean's back and pushes him even more into Castiel's face, and oh God, Dean is not at all comfortable.

Dean watches the girl pass, trying his best to look anywhere but down at Castiel, mainly to avoid certain mental images.

"Dean?"

Oh shit.

And Dean looks down, and sure enough, there sits Castiel, wide-eyes as he stares directly up at him, face full of Dean's crotch.

Fucking shit.

"Sorry, uh, I needed to move 'cause some girl needed to get by and I didn't want to wake you." Dean says, full fledged stuttering like an idiot and doing pointless random hand gestures that doesn't even fit what he's saying, and he has no idea why he even cares that he is making a fool out of himself because he hardly knows this guy.

"It's alright, Dean. Let me get up so you can get by." Castiel groans, his voice still deep. Castiel stands and presses his body back against the seat, which gives Dean one of two choices.

One, he can squeeze by with his butt pressed up against Castiel's dick.

Or option two, which means he can brush his dick up against Castiel's dick, while their faces will be very close together.

Well I guess he can't look at my face if my just butt brushes by...

Butt it is then!

Dean steps slowly in the congested row, trying oh-so-hard to avoid the thought of his ass touching Castiel's hips. Dean could've momentarily swore while he was passing by that Castiel voluntarily moved his hips forward to press more into Dean, but that would be crazy, and very very bad, because Dean oddly knows that he would've probably not minded it.

Dean sways by as quick as he can, "Thanks, dude." He says as he plops down in his seat again, happy to get out of probably the most awkward situation of his life.

"Of course, Dean."

Dean should feel extremely uncomfortable, considering Castiel basically says his name every time he speaks, and he wonders if that's just maybe the way Castiel speaks, or Castiel actually just likes saying it, because for some reason, Dean sure likes hearing it. It could have just been the fact that Castiel has a voice unlike anything Dean has ever heard, or it could just be that Dean's getting his feelings confused because he decide whether he's still mad at him for this morning, or completely forgiven him. And then Dean's even more confused because he can't figure out how that has anything to do with Castiel's voice, but then he's struck with the idea that maybe he's just...in denial.

God dammit, Dean you fucking son of a bitch, knock it the fuck off!

"Dean, are you alright?"

Dean snaps back to Earth and turns his head, meeting those damn eyes that Dean just so happens to think are...gorgeous.

What the fucking fuck, Dean! Fucking, fucking fuck!

God dammit Dean tries so hard to look away, but the more he tries to look away the more he notices that Castiel's eyes aren't just blue, they're those kind of eyes that make you feel...lost. Alluring and sensual, with just a little touch of mischief. Like weird speckles of broken glass, kaleidoscopes filled with the daytime sky, and it's almost like Dean can hear the crash of the waves as he stares into the ceaseless ocean.

Oh this is not good...

"Uh, what?"

Castiel looks genuinely concerned. "You seem to be troubled. Is there something wrong?" He says, and he has this therapist sort of vibe, and Dean does not like it.

"No, why?"

Castiel grins, "You're talking like an idiot, Dean."

Huh?

And for a moment Dean hasn't the slightest clue what Castiel's talking about. The last thing he said to him was "Thanks, dude.". Besides that, he's only been thinking. Alright yeah, he'd been thinking about Castiel's eyes, so what? They're just eyes, for Christ sake! There's no big deal in thinking about a guy's ey

Shit.

Then, Dean knows exactly what Castiel is talking about. He's been thinking. Thinking out loud.

Dean's heart picks up like a jack-hammer, "What did I say?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just a lot of cursing to yourself. That's about all." Castiel laughs again, way more high pitched than his usual voice.

Oh, thank god!

Grateful for only his cursing, Dean lets out an embarrassing smile, "Sorry, man. I think out loud sometimes."

Castiel laughs again, "It's fine, Dean."

And there he goes with Dean's name again.

They're silent now, and Dean reverts his attention to the window again. It's still dark outside, which means they still have a while left to go in the flight. Five o'clock in the morning was the designated time arrival, and by the look of pitch black darkness covering the sky, Dean figures it's only around three o'clock, which gives him two more hours on the plane...next to Castiel.

"So what are you doing in California? You live there?"

Dean turns his head and again and is welcomed with those damn eyes of his, but this time his pupils have practically multiplied in growth by several times, leaving only crescents of the blue outlining the black. Dean feels his stomach flutter when he see's them, because dilated pupils are not a good thing. Dean really just hopes that maybe he's on drugs.

Dean clears his throat, "No, I'm going for a wedding, actually."

Castiel raises his eyebrows and begins chewing on his lip, "I see. Who's?"

Dean chuckles and runs his tongue across his bottom lip, which Castiel certainly notices right away, his eyes lingering on Dean's lips even after his tongue has pulled back into his mouth, "My little brother Sam is getting married to this-this uh"

Cas picks up on Dean's hesitation, "I'm guessing she's not appealing to you, is she?"

"Well, she's hot, I guess. Not that nice, though. To me at least."

Castiel almost looks a little disappointed, and Dean has no idea why, but Castiel still manages to give Dean a warm smile, "That's usually how it goes, right?"

"Yeah, exactly." Dean chuckles, surprised that this guy could manage to even pull some humor into the conversation, and actually make him laugh even when what he has said wasn't even remotely that funny.

Castiel parts his lips for a moments, eyes trailing down to his lap, "So, are you meeting anyone at the airport, or did you travel by yourself?"

Yeah, yeah Dean mention you're engaged...to a really hot girl...yeah, yeah mention that.

"Oh, uh-no I'm traveling by myself. Sucks 'cause I really really hate flying." Dean mutters, balling his fists up and he grimaces at how sweaty his palms are.

Don't you think he'd be interested to know you're getting married soon? You should tell him. Tell him it's a really hot girl. Tell him you're getting married to a really hot girl. He'd be really interested, don't you think?

Castiel's eyes shoot up from his lap, his smile deepens so much his nose has crinkled at the top, "Yes, flying can be awful at times. I'm traveling alone as well. Except I'm not going to a wedding, I'm here for business." Castiel begins to rub his hands against his knees which is certainly way to distracting for Dean.

"What do you do?"

Tell him you're fucking getting married, Dean!

"Oh, it's a business trip for a payroll company I work for. I'm the CEO, so I get to travel a lot, for free mostly."

Dean's eyebrows almost raise off his head. This idiot in a trench coat, this damn idiot who travels a lot didn't know where the front of the line for the fucking airport security check was for Christ sake? If the guy's a CEO he can't be half as dumb as he seems to be. So clearly Dean hasn't had this guy figured out as well as he thought he did. At a loss for words, Dean just nods, happy to hear the pilot come across the intercom to break the conversation.

"May I have your attention please. This is your captain speaking. I would like to inform you that we are now an hour away from our destination. The flight attendants will be coming around shortly at your convenience to offer food and drinks. Thank you, and have a nice rest of the flight."

Dean bites the inside of his cheek, unsure of whether he will be happy to get away from this creep sitting next to him, or whether he will be sad that he was going to probably forget those eyes of his. Or his deep, gravely voice, or the way Castiel's nose crinkles when he smiles, or the way his laugh is way too high pitched for his normal voice, or the way his dark brown hair looks as if he had just had a full-on wrestling match with a rabid squirrel and is sticking up in all different directions, or the way

Oh god, Dean. What have you gotten yourself into now?

Dean reverts to the window for a while, trying hard not to look over to the seat next to him, but after a while, he just can't help himself. He looks over at Castiel, who to his surprise is leaning his head in his direction with his eyes closed again. Dean watches how calm he looks, slow and deep breaths making his chest rise and fall slowly, eyelashes fluttering every few seconds.

"Oh hon, why don't you just take a picture?"

Dean's gaze is broken from Castiel and is now fixed on Bela, who is standing over them with a rolling cart of chips and water.

Dean clenches his eyebrows, "Excuse me?"

Bela leans into their row, her eyes fixed sharply on Dean. Her lip curls to one side, "Oh, please. The last time someone gave me that look, I got laid."

Dean makes a choking sound in the back of his throat before he eyes Castiel to make sure his eyes were still shut, and thank god, they are. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Bela squints at him, her eyes small and beady, one eyebrow lifting just a little more than the other. "May I offer you chips or water, sir?"

"Oh, fuck off." Dean groans. He clenches his eyebrows as he returns his gaze back outside the window. Being attracted to Castiel was the upmost ridiculous thing that has ever crossed Dean's mind. He is a fucking guy. Alright, yeah, the guy has some attractive qualities, but so does George Clooney. Dean is getting married. Married to one hell of a girl, a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets. A tan, dark haired, brown eyed, hot girl.

Well I mean MAYBE if she had eyes like Castiel, she'd be THAT much more hot...

Dean pinches his arm.

NO! No, no, no, no. Brown eyes. I like brown eyes. I can deal with brown eyes.

Dean leans his head back against the seat, exhaling a long, deep breath and closing his eyes as he attempts to make sense of whatever the hell is going on in his head for the remainder of the flight.


"Dean? Wake up, Dean."

Dean hears himself grunt a loud snore as his eyes snap open. The plane's lights are blasting in his eyes, faintly being covered by a figure above him. His eyes burn a little as the air hits them, but they soon adapt enough to see that Castiel is hovering over him, the planes lights coming out in rays around his head.

"Huh?" Dean groans, sitting up in his chair trying to avoid the thought that maybe just for a second there, Castiel resembled a fucking angel with those damn rays of light coming around his head.

"You fell asleep for a while. I didn't want to wake you, but I also couldn't leave you here on the plane either." Castiel murmurs before leaning away from Dean just enough so Dean can peer over the head of the seat in front of him and see that the plane is basically almost completely empty.

Dean grunts, stretching his tight muscles out, "Shit, man. Thanks."

Castiel laughs, "Do you need help with bags or anything? Do you have something in the carry-on overhead that I can get for you?"

Dean stands, ducking so his head won't bash it into the low ceiling and make himself look more of a fool than he already probably has. He yawns as he steps into the main isle-way. He stops when he notices that Castiel has a pretty big wet spot right below his shoulder. "Uh, no I don't, thanks though. But-uh, Castiel? What happened to your-uh, coat?"

Castiel looks at his right shoulder, his mouth frowns a little before he looks back up at Dean and begins laughing almost hysterically, "You fell asleep, Dean. On me."

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

Dean covers one of his cheeks in attempt to hide the rosy, scarlet blush that has just plastered his face. "Oh, god, don't tell me..."

"It's totally fine, Dean." Castiel says laughing again, making his leave down the isle.

Dean quickly follows behind him, "You sure, man? I drooled on you. Oh, god, I'm so sorry, dude."

Castiel doesn't say anything as he continues to walk down the isle, but Dean manages to hear him chuckle, which doesn't help much with the embarrassment, but does help a little with the awkward aura that's around him.

Bela stands with another flight attendant at the front of the plane, and she's grinning at him, big and wide as she waits for him to get off. Castiel steps off and onto the platform, and just before Dean makes his leave, a hand rests on his shoulder and pulls him back.

"If I were you, I'd get on that." Bela whispers to him, before slightly pushing him forward a little. Dean turns around, almost tempted to growl at her, but instead he shoots her a smile with the word sarcastic written all over it.

Dean makes his leave off the plane, and finds that Castiel has actually waited for him on the platform. His stomach flutters when he see's him standing there, a little flattered that Castiel has the decency to wait for him. But now Dean hasn't the slightest clue what to say to the guy, considering he had probably just spent the last hour of the flight drooling an ocean on Castiel's probably really expensive trench coat, not to mention the fact that he had probably been snoring directly into his ear.

"Did I snore?" Dean spits at him. And then Dean turns his head in the opposite direction and mouths, 'FUCK', because that is so not what he wanted to say, and Castiel probably thinks Dean is the king of conversation starters with that dumb-ass move.

Castiel laughs, "A little bit. I didn't mind. Some other people probably did, however no one came to wake you up, so I'd say you're off the hook."

Dean smiles at Castiel's ability to make an awkward situation comfortable, "At least I didn't talk." Dean says, because God knows what Dean would've said while his mind was in dream land.

"I never said you didn't do that."

Dean whips his head towards Castiel and swallows so hard he almost chokes on his own spit.

Oh, fuck.

They make it off the platform and into the airport before Castiel starts laughing hysterically again, "I'm kidding! God, you look like you've just seen a ghost. Having dreams that you don't want people knowing about, huh?"

Dean puts a heart over his chest and is surprised to find that it is still in tact with his body. He laughs, trying to hide the obvious nervous expression on his face, and he clearly isn't succeeding with that, due to the amusing look that Castiel has.

Dean parts his lips to say something, mainly attempting to say goodbye, considering they're now in the airport and they're going to have to go their separate ways eventually, but the words catch in his throat and he just stands there with his mouth slightly parted.

Castiel grins, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Dean." He murmurs before he reaches an open hand out to him. Dean remembers the first time Castiel had reached his hand out and how he was a complete and total asshole about it and ignored him. Redeeming himself, Dean takes his hand and squeezes it hard without hesitation and is happy to feel the same warm, soft and kind of clammy hand that he had shaken before.

Dean gazes up at him, glad to reunite his honey green eyes with the ocean blue one's of Castiel for one last time.

Dean smiles before his phone starts blasting his his pocket, and he grabs it with his free hand, completely forgetting to let go of Castiel's with the other.

"Shit," Dean groans when he sees 'Sexiest Fiancé Ever' is calling him. Nosy girl that Lisa is, she's probably been counting down the minutes to the end of Dean's flight.

"Everything okay?"

Dean scoffs, "Yeah, yeah, it's just my girlfriend." He says, before immediately drawing in a short quick breath when he realizes what he has just done. Castiel's hand stops squeezing Dean's and he lets go. Dean balls up his fist, feeling his lungs shrink up when he sees Castiel's face; and Dean swears he's never seen this level of pure sadness before.

Castiel rubs his hand against his coat, "Ah, alright. But, look, I have to go-uh, meet my brother at baggage claim, so it was really nice chatting with you, Dean. I hope to see you around."

And just like that, Castiel is gone.

As much as Dean wants to follow him, he can't, so he curses to himself again before answering his phone.

"Hello?"

"Dean! How was the flight?" Lisa's voice is muffled and excited through the phone, which quite frankly, pisses Dean off.

Dean turns himself around to avoid looking at Castiel as he walks away, "Great." Dean says as he rubs his now extremely sweaty hand across his throbbing forehead.

"Good, good. So are you going to go straight to the hotel when you get out of the airport?"

Dean shakes his head at the pointless question, "Yeah, hon."

Lisa is silent for a few moments, "Are you alright, Dean? You seem—"

Dean cuts her off, "Yeah, I'm just real tired. Jet-lagged."

"Oh, alright. Will you shoot me a text when you get to the hotel? Just so I know you're safe?"

Dean scoffs in the back of his throat. Safe? So I'm safe? Since when do you care that I'm safe?

Dean rolls his eyes, because Lisa's acting weird. She's being nice to him. "Yeah, babe." He says with uncertainty.

"Okay, Dean. I'll talk to you later." Lisa says slowly and deeply. And Dean nods when he hears Lisa's voice return to her normal tone.

Dean smiles, "Okay."

With that, Dean hangs up before he quickly turns around, frowning when he sees that there isn't a trench coat in sight.


"Alright, were here, sir. Let me get your bags."

Dean opens the door to the cab and stops to look at the absolutely gorgeous hotel that he really shouldn't be staying at, but his brother has paid for half of it on his request, which really pisses him off.

His suitcase is set down in front of him, and the cab driver sticks out his hand like a gold-digger. He slaps the guy a tip, shooting him an annoyed glare before he grabs the handle and wheels it into the hotel.

A doorman is waiting for him, and slides the door open when Dean approaches.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Todd, and I will be your doorman here at the Hyatt Regency Hotel. Can I call someone over to assist you with your bags?"

Todd has the most ridiculous curled mustache that reminds Dean of Captain Hook, and it makes Dean want to rip it off and throw it at him. Working at a hotel like this, just opening doors for people would probably earn Todd more money in a month than Dean would earn in six, which really pisses him off.

For some reason, everything is just really pissing him off.

"I'm all set, thanks." Dean murmurs.

"Alright, sir. Have a nice day!" Todd says before he smiles at him, which makes the curls of his mustache almost brush the bottom of his eyes.

Dean nods at him, making his way to the check-in counter. A girl with short dark hair smiles at him.

"Hello! Welcome to the Hyatt Regency, my name is Tessa. Checking in?"

"Yeah, reservation for Dean Winchester." Dean says, becoming even more pissed off at her cheerful demeanor. If everyone at this hotel is going to be this happy all the time, Dean may as well just cancel his reservations now.

"Alright, you will be in room 4022. How many room keys would you like?"

"Just one please."

"Are you sure? Sometimes it's better to get two, just in case you lose one. Wouldn't want you getting stuck outside your room!" Tessa laughs, and Dean picks up the idea that he is supposed to laugh too, but Tessa is just so not funny in any way that he just ends up nodding his head.

Dean taps his fingers on the counter, "Yeah sure, two's fine."

"Alright, here you go, Dean." Tessa says as she hands him the room keys. Dean frowns as Tessa says his name, becoming even more pissed off at how she says his name.

"Thanks." Dean grunts as he takes them, not even bothering to return her smile.

The hotel is like a damn maze. His room is on the fourth floor and involves crossing the courtyard to get there, where the orange and pink glow of the sun irritate his eyes, and the sound of kids splashing and laughing in the pool irritates his head.

The elevator is a piece of shit, playing extremely annoying elevator music, and every few seconds it jolts and shakes and makes Dean want to punch a hole through the wall.

And by the time Dean finally manages to find his room, he is just so damn exhausted that he just leans against the door and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths. He swears he's there for hours, thinking of that face. That sadness. That complete, and pure utter disappointment.

And then Dean hears the hotel room door squeak open next to him and the sound of shoes shuffling. The shuffling then comes to a complete halt.

Dean hears someone draw a quick breath in.

"Dean?"

Dean's eyes shoot up and his stomach practically falls right out of his butt, because he would recognize that deep, low, gravely voice anywhere.