A/N Follow-up to The Hallowing of Pain. Maybe could standalone, but will make more sense if you read that one first.

Cas was hovering again, in that way that he did when he wanted to say something but didn't know where to start. Several times he'd gone so far as to open his mouth but then seemed to think better of it and closed it again, whatever was on his mind left unsaid. It was beginning to get on Dean's nerves. If he didn't ask the angel what was bugging him, it might be days before Cas said anything. He cracked open his beer bottle and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Spit it out, man," he said. Cas cocked an eyebrow at him in surprise. "Whatever it is that's on your mind, just say it."

The corner of Cas's eye twitched. "I don't know…"

Dean sighed impatiently. "Cas, please. What did you do? I promise not to get mad."

The angel shook his head. "I haven't done anything. Yet." He looked around nervously. "Where's Sam?"

"He's out running. Like he always does before dinner. Is this something to do with him?"

Cas looked relieved and that in itself was a clue. To what, Dean had no idea. "I was thinking about sex."

Dean was swallowing a mouthful of beer as Cas said this and he inhaled involuntarily and began to choke. He coughed and spluttered and then glared at the angel. "Did you do that on purpose?"

Cas looked mystified at the accusation. "No. Are you all right?" He started moving towards Dean and the hunter waved him off.

"I'm fine," he croaked. "It was just unexpected. Uh. What… what is it you wanted to know?"

"My experience is very limited," Cas said. "I've been wondering if I need to fill some holes in my understanding."

Dean fought off another threatened wave of choking. If this had been anyone else, he'd have been sure they were doing it deliberately. But Cas was still remarkably innocent in some ways despite everything that had happened to him since he raised Dean out of Hell.

"What uh… particular things did you want to understand?" he asked. He knew he was asking for trouble with such an open-ended question, that he'd given the angel carte blanche to ask the most ridiculous, embarrassing or just plain weird questions he could think of. But in a way, he was also secretly pleased. Hadn't he tried to hook Cas up with various waitresses and barmaids over the years? Maybe this meant he was finally getting a little more comfortable with living on earth. He'd never return to Heaven, so this had to be a good thing. Right?

"I'm curious about same-sex intercourse," Cas said bluntly.

"Are we talking about girl on girl?" Dean said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "'Cause I can recommend some quality websites."

Cas shook his head, his face puzzled. "No, Dean. I'm talking about interactions between males. This vessel is male, after all, even if I don't technically have a gender."

The beer bottle fell from Dean's nerveless grasp and tumbled to the floor. Luckily it didn't shatter, but beer sprayed everywhere as the bottle spun crazily on the tiled floor.

"Dammit," he swore, jumping up from his seat and grabbing kitchen paper from the counter. He mopped up the mess, wondering how it was that a few mouthfuls in a bottle became a tsunami when spilled. He looked up at Cas to see the angel watching him as he cleaned up, his bottom lip quivering slightly. Was Cas laughing at him? Dean shook his head in amusement and stood up, tossing the empty bottle in the recycling bin and grabbing another beer from the fridge.

"I know I'm going to regret saying this," he said as he sat back down. "But what specifically did you want to know? I mean, it's not exactly my area of expertise."

Cas blinked rapidly for a few seconds. "Was I not sufficiently clear? I would like to try it, to compare with my previous experience."

"Oh," Dean said stupidly. He scratched the back of his head as he floundered around for a suitable answer. "Uh. I guess we could find a brothel or something that caters…"

"No." Cas's voice was a whiplash. "I am not comfortable doing this with a stranger."

"Wait," Dean objected. "April was a stranger. What's the difference?"

"That was hardly an ideal scenario," Cas said dryly and Dean had to concede that point. "But I'm looking for something more involved than a single encounter." He met Dean's gaze and the hunter noted his dilated pupils and the slight dusting of pink across his cheeks. The penny finally dropped. Dean began to feel the stirrings of panic and fought to keep his face straight.

"Cas, dude, it's not that I'm not flattered," he blustered. "I mean, I guess you're not bad looking, for a guy and uh, if I swung that way I- Well, yeah, except you know, I don't."

"Then what do I do, Dean?" Cas asked, his eyes intent on Dean's mouth.

Shit oh shit oh shit. How did he get himself into this mess? His temper began to smolder at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Why don't you ask Sam?" he said nastily. "I think he rows on both sides of the boat, y'know? Maybe he could help you out."

As soon as he said it, Dean wanted to retract it. Of course, Cas would reject it out of hand because whether he liked it or not, he knew how the angel felt about him. It wasn't fair of him to get so infuriated over it. Sometimes he wished he could reciprocate the way Cas wanted but what could he do? He was straight, like totally one hundred percent red-blooded alpha male, and even if it was true that Cas wasn't really male, he had a male vessel and that was the end of it. There's just no way he could consider doing… things with him. In fact, he wanted to stop thinking about it right now, because Cas was looking at him with an expression that was wounded, shocked and outraged.

"You want me to ask Sam to have sex with me?" the angel said in a low voice, taut and angry.

"It's only a suggestion," Dean said defensively, feeling like the worst person in the world. "You asked for my help. This is the best idea I've got." Cas gazed at him and for a terrible moment Dean feared the angel might call him on his bullshit. But instead his face smoothed out and he nodded.

"Of course," he said. "Thank you, Dean." Cas got out of his seat and headed for the door. "I'll ask Sam when he gets back from his run."

Dean watched Cas leave the kitchen, his shoulders still tense with whatever mix of emotions the angel was feeling. Fuck. He'd really stepped in it this time. He hadn't expected Cas to take on his insulting suggestion of propositioning Sam. In fact, he'd been sure the angel would have been so angry he might have taken a swing at Dean. Maybe he even wanted Cas to hit him, because then they could have fought and- His thoughts skidded to a halt and he shoved away from the table, his legs shaking with rage. No, no, no, he was not going to fall down that rabbit hole.

Sam was going to tear a strip off him when he found out what he'd done. He took a couple of deep breaths through his nose and tried to settle his jangling nerves. He was overreacting. Sam would be sensitive and let the angel down gently and then everything would go back to normal.

As far as Dean was concerned, eavesdropping was a victimless crime. And it wasn't like he meant to overhear what was going on in the library, he was just innocently walking by the door when he overheard a snippet of the conversation.

"Did you enjoy your run, Sam?" the angel was asking.

"Yeah," Sam said. "I feel pretty good right now." There was a scraping sound as Sam moved a chair across the floor. "Why do you ask?"

"I am attempting to broaden my understanding of the human experience," Cas said awkwardly. Dean suppressed a snicker, the angel could be so unintentionally hilarious sometimes. "In particular, I'm interested in how certain physical activities can be pleasurable even though they might not seem appetizing."

"I'm not sure I understand," Sam laughed. "Are you saying you want to come running with me? I'd love the company."

"No," Cas said. "I'm actually hoping to explore sexual activities." Dean heard Sam clear his throat uncomfortably and grinned. Poor Sam.

"I see," Sam said, his voice cracking. "Uh, do you want to ask me questions about it? I'll do my best to answer."

Dean inched closer to the door, wondering if he dared peek inside. If Cas or Sam saw him, they'd be an almighty row of course. But the urge to see what was happening was almost overwhelming.

"This vessel is male," Cas said. "I myself am not, but I have possessed this vessel longer than any other in my life. I know this body quite well but some of the details of how sex happens are confusing to me."

"OK," Sam said, sounding a little baffled himself. "I guess your previous experience was a bit one-sided." There was a pause Dean recognized as Sam stalling before asking a difficult question. "Did you and Meg ever uh…"

Dean almost yelped in surprise at that. He'd almost forgotten the curious chemistry between the demon and Cas, including that insane kiss they'd shared in front of everyone one time. It had been so hot and so unexpected, Dean had found himself instantly and completely inappropriately aroused. He struggled with the urge to cough as his body began to react to the memory. Not now, dammit!

"No," Cas said. The regret in his voice was obvious. "It would not have been proper. And she died before there was any… risk of anything happening."

"Right," Sam said, his voice carefully controlled. "So April was your only time, yeah?"

"Yes."

"And you know that what she did was pretty abnormal, yeah? I mean there were so many consent issues with that whole encounter-"

"Yes," Cas interrupted, his discomfort plain. Dean slid a little further along the wall and cautiously craned his neck to see if he could see anything. Sam was sat at the table with his back to Dean, his laptop open in front of him. Cas was sitting right next to him. He was focused on Sam but if he turned his head only a little, he would see Dean. He was going to have to be very careful.

"OK," Sam said. He leaned back in his chair, affecting a casual air, but Dean knew his brother well enough to know he was not happy with this conversation. "So, hit me. What do you want to know?"

"I would like to understand sex from the other perspective," Cas said.

"The other perspective?" Sam echoed, clearly not understanding the angel's meaning.

"Homosexual encounters," Cas clarified. Sam went rigid, his spine so straight it looked painful. "I want to experience sex with a male. But I don't want to do this with a stranger. I can't- It's not-" He was quivering with distress or confusion, Dean couldn't tell which.

"Hey, hey, calm down," Sam said gently. Dean smiled, his brother would know how to handle this. "It's OK, just explain what it is you want." When Cas didn't answer, he added. "Have you talked to Dean about this?"

"Dean is not interested in same-sex intercourse," Cas said sharply.

Sam took a deep breath. "Are you asking me to help you out here?" Cas looked away, wrapping his arms around his body and hugging himself tightly. "That's OK, Cas. I'm not going to get mad."

"Yes," the angel said. There was a pregnant pause, and Dean found himself holding his breath.

"OK," Sam said. "I guess we could both do with a little stress relief."

Dean pulled away from the doorway and flattened himself against the wall, scarcely able to believe what he'd just heard. Had Sam just agreed to have sex with Cas? That wasn't what was supposed to happen! The shot of adrenaline this shocking turn of events had triggered sent Dean's body straight into fight or flight mode. Unable to cope with his wildly fluctuating emotions, he turned on his heel and ran away from the library as quickly as he could.

Back in his room, breathing heavily and his heart pounding, Dean leaned against the back of his door. No, this couldn't be happening. He'd misunderstood, maybe he'd even misheard what Sam had said. Because, yeah, he had his suspicions that maybe Sam sometimes did like a little guy-on-guy action, but he'd never actually seen his brother so much as flirt with another man. Except Gabriel, who as an archangel didn't really count. And then there was the weird interactions between Sam and Lucifer. Who was also an archangel, so he didn't count either. And there was that guy Sam was at Stanford with, Bradley. Something about how Sam talked about him seemed a little… off. But that was it. And Bradley had turned out to have been possessed by a demon so maybe Dean was misreading the whole thing.

Feeling his pulse coming back to normal, Dean was convinced that this was nothing more than Sam being kind and he was being ridiculous. Not that he cared anyway, it wasn't any of his business who Sam slept with. He wasn't some kind of homophobic asshole, in fact he didn't give a rat's ass what any consenting adults did in private. And he'd been hit on by guys plenty of times, and OK, yeah it could be kinda flattering especially if the guy was- He abruptly turned his thoughts away and to the issue at hand. He was letting himself get distracted by trivialities. The point was his brother was a free agent and Cas was a free agent and he'd already turned the angel down because he wasn't into dudes so why the Hell was he freaking out? He needed to chill. Everything was fine, and nothing was going to happen between Sam and Cas even though it would be totally OK if it did.

He almost believed it.

The change in atmosphere between Sam and Cas was so immediate and obvious even Dean couldn't ignore it for long. Cas had long had the habit of standing too close to people but Dean had gradually broken him of it, and he only really did it to Dean now and again when he was hurt or upset. So to see him unconsciously crowding Sam as he made breakfast or while researching something on the internet was startling enough to stand out. Dean spent several hours convincing himself that he was imagining it, that it meant nothing and when he finally came to the conclusion that no, things had definitely changed between Sam and Cas, he'd hit the bottle hard and drunk himself into a stupor.

But even Dean couldn't sustain that kind of heavy drinking without paying a severe price and after three days of alcohol-facilitated denial, he realized he was going to have to face up to what was happening. In fairness to Sam and Cas, they weren't trying to draw attention to it. In fact, Dean didn't think anyone else would even realize something was going on. They were perfectly discreet and the few clues they did leave were so subtle as to be almost undetectable. But Dean knew his brother so well, growing up in each other's pockets the way they did, to know that whatever he and Cas were into, he was in deep.

There was a look that Cas would give Sam, it took Dean a while to recognize it, but the pattern was always the same. Sam would make some excuse to leave the room and around ten minutes later, Cas would silently follow him. What disturbed Dean the most was the frequency. When he first noticed it, they were disappearing once or twice a day. Now it was usually at least three or four times and Sam was beginning to look rather ragged and short on sleep. It made Dean's head hurt.

Things took a turn for the worse after this had been going on for a week. Dean had had to beg Sam for them to go follow up on a possible case and his brother had been surly, short-tempered and distracted the entire time. Had it been anything more difficult than a straight-forward salt-and-burn, that distraction could have proved deadly. But Dean didn't have the intestinal fortitude to raise the issue with Sam, and he couldn't see what difference it would make anyway. Sam was an adult and Dean couldn't interfere.

When they'd returned to the bunker, Cas had hustled off after Sam with unseemly haste. The affair certainly wasn't losing steam, much to Dean's distress. If anything, a few days apart seemed to have lessened their need for discretion. That was the first time Dean heard the sounds from Sam's room as he staggered drunkenly past on his way to bed. The ecstatic cry of Cas's name could hardly be mistaken for anything else. He crawled miserably into bed that night and wept, not even trying to examine why he felt so utterly desolate.

The next morning, he'd found himself in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee laced liberally with bourbon when Cas had sat down opposite him with a challenging look in his eye.

"Dean," he said severely. "Your alcohol consumption levels are reaching dangerously high levels."

"Yeah, mom," Dean snarled. "Cas, it's none of your business. Just like it's none of my business-" Horrified at what had almost tumbled out of his mouth, he closed it with a click and returned his attention to his coffee.

"I'm serious," Cas said. "You're going to kill yourself if you keep drinking like this. It's 7am. Don't you think that's a little early?"

"It's 5 o'clock somewhere," Dean snarked. "Get off my case."

Cas shook his head at him, clearly angry but for some reason he seemed unwilling to push it further. And then Sam walked in, his pajama bottoms loose around his hips and his t-shirt rumpled enough to show a strip of skin across his stomach and Dean felt as though he'd stopped existing. Cas seemed to be utterly riveted by that innocent exposure and he wasn't even subtle about it. Dean had had enough. He stood up angrily, and stomped out of the room.

If Dean had thought things had gotten as bad as they could, he was proved wrong. Twice he walked into the library to find Sam and Cas engaged in some activity that try as he might he could not scrub out of his brain no matter how much he drank. The sight of Sam pinned facedown on the table as Cas mercilessly thrust into him had threatened to undo his sanity altogether. Thankfully, Sam had his eyes screwed tightly shut as he gasped and moaned but Cas had locked his gaze with Dean and his mouth had tightened but he didn't miss a single stroke and Dean had backed away and fled down the corridor.

He'd resolved to be more careful after that, and even considered whether he needed to take Cas aside and respectfully request that they restrict their activities to the bedroom. But that meant admitting what was happening, and at least on the surface Dean was determined to pretend nothing was wrong.

So he had nobody to blame but himself when a few days later, he entered the library with his laptop in hand, intending to show Sam a potential new case and he was confronted by Sam on his knees, his head buried in Cas's crotch. Again, he was bizarrely grateful that Sam's back was to him, and he'd intended to just back out of the room quietly when Cas's blue eyes had flown open and he'd frozen. Cas's eyes were dark with lust and Dean couldn't understand the wild light that appeared as his gaze fell on Dean.

"Yes, Sam," the angel coaxed, his eyes never leaving Dean's. "That's good. So good." He let his head fall back and his eyes close again. That was Dean's cue to leave and he couldn't explain why instead he could do nothing but watch helplessly to the inevitable climax. Only when Cas had peaked had Dean been able to break the spell and run away.

That had been something he never, ever wanted to see. And now he couldn't unsee it. After lying on his bed, sweating and pulling at his hair, the pain and misery completely overwhelming him, he'd wretchedly taken himself in hand and sobbed his way to a bitter, empty orgasm, the sight of Cas's pleasure fixed firmly in his mind's eye.

As he lay on his back, sweat cooling on his skin, he realized that Sam had almost seen him when he came up for air as Cas twitched and moaned beneath him. It was an agonizing thought that perhaps Cas deliberately manipulating events to ensure that Dean would constantly have to face up to what was going on but for the life of him he couldn't understand why. Was he trying to drive Dean out of the bunker altogether? Or maybe lay the groundwork so that Dean would be glad if Sam and Cas announced that they were moving out? His eyes pricked at the thought and he curled up into a ball on his bed. His entire world was falling apart and nothing made sense any more.

Even though he'd talked himself through this several times, he almost lost his nerve when he walked into the war room to find Cas alone, pondering over a large manuscript he'd spread out on the table.

"Hey, uh, Cas?" Dean stuttered. The angel looked up with a mild expression. "Yeah, I uh…"

"Is something wrong?" the angel asked, his expression neutral but that wild light in his eyes that Dean had seen in the library.

"No! Well, uh, maybe. Yeah." God, he hated this. Didn't he always say he hated the chick-flick moments?

"Which is it?" the angel enquired insouciantly and Dean's eyebrows rose. Cas had acquired this hard edge since he and Sam had gotten together and it made Dean mourn for the old Cas.

He bit his lip. He'd decided he was going to do this, and he was not going to back down. "Yeah, uh, I guess there is a problem." Jesus, what was wrong with him? "Look, I don't want to interfere in… whatever you and-" His gorge rose and he fought it down. "Sam have going on. But, y'know I have to live here too and it's not really fair on me to have to keep walking in on you two, uh, stress-relieving."

Cas's eyebrows rocketed skywards and Dean realized his mistake almost immediately. "You were listening when I talked to Sam about my wish to experiment."

"No," Dean denied. "I mean, not deliberately. I just happened to be walking by and uh… overheard."

"I see," Cas said icily.

"So, uh, if you and Sam could like… just keep your activities to the bedroom-" Dean trailed off at the look on Cas's face.

"It troubles you," he stated.

"You're damn right!" Dean exploded. He wanted to confess right then. Just pour out his soul and admit he was wrong, that he should never have turned Cas down in the first place. But then his courage failed him. "I mean, no, of course you and Sam can do whatever you want." His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Perhaps we should talk," Cas said. "If we're making you uncomfortable, we should discuss it. I have to finish working on this manuscript. Come down to Sam's room in an hour and we can discuss some ground rules." Dean didn't trust the look on Cas's face. There was a cunning glint in his eye that made his blood run cold.

"OK," he said listlessly.

He knew it was a trap. He didn't know why Cas was doing this to him, or why he was allowing it but even as he raised his hand to knock on Sam's door, he was certain that Cas had lied to him.

He was not wrong. As he opened the door and beheld the sight of Cas fucking Sam with almost grim determination, his eyes had helplessly been drawn to the angel. But this time Sam was also aware of him, he gaped at Dean with an appalled expression. Surely they would stop, Sam would be embarrassed and apologize and Dean would be able to escape. He could barely believe the fact that Cas kept going and Sam seemed unable or unwilling to bring proceedings to a halt. He couldn't even tear his eyes away when Cas deliberately wrapped his hand around Sam's bobbing erection.

So, this was what Cas had really wanted him to see. That he and Sam were happy and that Dean was in the way. He swallowed against his misery, even as Cas shuddered and Sam gasped out his climax. He knew what he had to do. He backed away and closed the door with a click.

Despair, thick and black and bitter, seemed to swirl around him. He trudged back to his room, slowly considering his options in his mind. Even if he wanted to, he didn't hate Sam for this. It wasn't even fair to blame Cas. The angel had come to him and he'd been too deeply entrenched in his damn closet to take was was being freely offered. And now Cas had moved on and it was his own damn fault. Pain throbbed in his temples and he lashed out, punching the wall with so much force that he broke straight through the drywall.

He kicked his bedroom door open and began to throw things into a duffel bag at random. He didn't need much, which was just as well because he didn't have much. His stomach lurched and he paused. The wave of nausea passed and he pushed past the images still seared into his retinas, considering his choices. He'd lived most of his life in motels, and sure it had been nice to have a permanent base for a while but maybe it was making him soft. He grunted at himself and hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and headed out to the garage.

Once he'd dropped the bag into the trunk of the Impala, he realized he was going to need to grab a few more essentials, including as much liquor as he could reasonably carry. He slammed the trunk lid shut and made a beeline for the library. Hopefully Sam and Cas would still be in Sam's room and he could just snag a couple bottles and leave.

His stomach dropped when he saw Cas leaning against a bookcase, his arms folded over his chest.

"Dean," the angel rumbled.

He swallowed, his tongue felt thick and too large for his mouth. So he nodded and despite his intention to just take the bourbon and get the Hell out of here, instead he poured some into a glass and sat down heavily in a chair.

He just sat there, numbly drinking and staring at the pattern on the table. He could feel Cas's eyes on him but he didn't have the nerve to raise his head and meet his gaze. His breath caught at what he'd lost. Once, he and Cas could have spent time together without speaking and it would have been warm, comfortable and completely safe. Now, that silence was spiky with unspoken and painful truths.

He felt rather than heard Sam enter the room, and his throat ached. He got up and picked up another glass from the bureau and poured in a generous measure before turning to see Sam had spun away and was walking out.

"Don't leave," he said hoarsely. He lowered himself into the chair and held out the glass like a peace offering. His hands were shaking, he realized.

Sam turned slowly back to face him, his eyes shadowed and wary. He took the glass and backed away, choosing to sit far away from either him or Cas. Dean dropped his gaze to the table again.

"I-" His voice failed him and he grasped desperately at his drink, throwing most of it down his throat. "I guess this is partly my fault." His fist clenched, that was not what he wanted to say.

"But I'm not mad at you, Sam," he managed even though his throat seemed to be closing. "You're an adult and Cas is-" He broke off, unsure where he was going. "He can do what he wants. So, I uh… guess I hope you'll be happy together." His voice was strangled, like he was being throttled. In a sense, he was. Strangled by grief and self-recrimination.

"Dean, this isn't-" Cas said, his voice cracking. But Dean couldn't listen to anything the angel had to say. Too much water had flowed under that bridge.

"I'm gonna be…" he shook his head and finished his drink. "Elsewhere." He dragged himself from the room, depression pressing on his shoulders.

Dean climbed into his beloved car and rested his head on the steering wheel, tears streaming openly down his face. How had it come to this? And could he really carry on without Sam and most of all, without Cas? There was only one way to find out. He dug into his pocket for the keys and cursed. He slammed his hand into the steering wheel in frustration, he'd left the car keys in the kitchen earlier and now he was going to have to go back for them.

He stumbled out of the car and dashed back into the bunker. Maybe if he ran, if he was quick he could get the keys and get out without running into Sam or Cas. As he skidded to a halt in front of the kitchen door, the sight that greeted him seemed deliberately designed to cause him maximum pain. It was undeniable now, Cas was using Sam to in some fucked-up revenge plot and Dean wasn't sure Sam even knew what the angel was doing. His temper flared. If Cas was angry with him, why drag Sam into it? He ignored his own part in this melodrama, the anger focused on the angel was white-hot and pure.

Sam's head tipped back and his eyes met Dean's, his lids flaring open. And then Dean dragged his gaze up to meet Cas's and it was like the world had stopped. Even though Cas didn't let up, just like every other time Dean had 'accidentally' come across him with Sam, he could feel that the angel's focus was no longer on his brother but entirely on him. His pupils had expanded to the point that barely a sliver of blue remained. And Dean could see what he'd always known but had been pointedly ignoring. Cas loved him and Dean had rejected him, for no better reason than he was too screwed up and emotionally repressed to see what was right in front of him.

His mouth dropped open as awareness settled into his bones. Cas's pace was beginning to disintegrate and Dean realized his body had started reacting to the erotic sight in front of him even as he'd been going through a painful re-evaluation of his entire life. That his brother was involved should have been more of a turn-off but right now Dean couldn't concentrate on anyone but Cas.

The angel shuddered as he climaxed, crying out Dean's name. Dean staggered back in shock and Cas had frozen, his face a riot of pain and astonishment. Sam gasped and shivered beneath him but Dean was barely aware of him. He couldn't look away from Cas, who had in one appalling moment revealed that despite everything, it was still Dean who he loved and Dean who he thought about even in his most intimate moments with Sam.

Sam suddenly exploded into action, shoving Cas off his body with a scream that made Dean jump. For a moment, Cas's attention dropped to his brother and with a grim twist to his mouth he offered his hand to Sam, who smacked it away with a growl. Cas's eyes rose once more to meet Dean's.

Dean didn't know how long they stood there, just looking at each other. And he had no idea that Sam had left until his knees began to shake and he leaned against the doorjamb for support.

"Cas," he whispered.

"Dean," the angel replied. He stepped around the table and stood in front of Dean, an arrogant tilt to his head Dean hadn't seen for a long time.

"I… screwed up," Dean said, his voice quivering. "You loved me and I spurned it, tossed it away as if it were worthless. But you're not worthless, Cas. You're beautiful and unique and breathtaking. You've been my north star for so long, I don't remember what it was like before. And I'm sorry." He felt his eyes water and he didn't hold back. "I'm sorry, Cas. I don't expect you to forgive me. And I don't know if Sam will ever forgive either of us." His head dropped with shame. "I don't know how to fix this."

Cas tilted his head up with two fingers, his mouth a hard, bitter line. "This is how far I had to push it to get you to see? Do you understand now the damage you've caused?"

"I'm not trying to get out of it," Dean emphasized. "But you're not blameless here, Cas."

The angel nodded. "I accept that. So where do we go from here?"

"I don't know," Dean said. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against Cas's, sighing and letting his breath mingle with the angel's. His eyelids drifted closed, and his head angle almost of its own accord and their lips met. Cas melted against him, a soft moan vibrating against his skin. Dean tugged the angel closer, pressing their bodies together and thrilling with the sensation of heat between them.

But a niggling thought wouldn't leave him alone and he withdrew. Cas's eyebrows drew together.

"What wrong?"

"Sam," Dean said heavily. "Cas, I… I can't do this. Not when my brother's uh… body fluids are still drying on your clothes."

Cas nodded and made an idle gesture, returning himself to his usual pristine state. Dean appreciated the gesture but shook his head.

"We have to sort things out with him first," he insisted. Cas's eyes shadowed but he nodded his agreement.

"You're right," he agreed. "I've not treated Sam very well these past few weeks. I owe him an apology at the very least."

"Do you think that'll make up for it?" Dean said.

"No," the angel admitted. "But I might have something else that might."