A/N: This is my first Supernatural story! And the first fic I've written in a very long time. This is slash, meaning a relationship between two men. There is some coarse language and implications of a sexual nature. Don't like, don't read. Please read and review, though! Con-crit is welcomed.

"If anyone's gonna get hurt in this relationship," Dean says out of nowhere, "it's gonna be him." He says it real self-assured, staring at the road, grip tight on the wheel. Sam glances up in surprise from the newspaper article he was re-reading, waiting for Dean to elaborate. Dean doesn't.

"So you two are in a relationship now?" Sam asks, because of course that's the only thing he picks up on. Sam knows Dean too well. He knows not to call Dean out on that whole other part, because that won't get the conversation anywhere. And also, because that whole other part is a load of shit, but they're both aware of that, so there's not really a point.

Dean scoffs. "If fucking constitutes a relationship, then sure."

"You're the one who used the word, Dean," Sam says. Dean just shakes his head and grumbles something, turning the volume of the music up, somehow turning the gesture into something violent. It also brings the conversation to an effective close.

He'd spent the past months watching Dean fall in love with an angel, an angel in a male body, which at first Sam thought was the problem. Apparently not. That had thrown Sam off, walking in on Castiel inside of his brother. Because if the problem wasn't Dean being a giant closeted homosexual, then Sam had no idea what it could be. And if Sam didn't know what the problem was, he couldn't try and help Dean fix it.

xXx

"Two rooms, please," Dean says to the lady at the front desk of the next shitty motel they find. She doesn't say anything, just slides over a form for him to fill out and tosses him two sets of keys when he finishes. Sam waited in the car. When Dean hands him his own key he shoots Dean a questioning look, which Dean pointedly ignores.

Sam tries not to get angry, and fails, grabbing his bag and starting towards his room. He can't help himself, though, and he turns and calls out, "Don't hurt him too much, Dean. You know how much power you have over him in that relationship of yours."

Dean freezes. Sam watches him slowly collect himself, standing up a little bit taller, sticking his chin out. And then Sam understands. He understands, and feels a little sick.

xXx

"I don't understand, Dean," Castiel says.

Dean had called Castiel, staring up at the cracked and stained ceiling of his room, praying, "Castiel, just get here. Please, just get here now, okay?" Quieter, he'd said, "I need you." Then he'd sat down on the edge of the only bed in the room, and buried his face in his hands. He didn't move when he heard that familiar flutter of displaced air, and didn't move when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

"Dean, I am here," Castiel had said. He sounded concerned. Emotion tainted all of his words these days, whether it be joy or sadness or surprise or fear. Sometimes his words were painted with something warm, something that made Dean's chest tighten. Dean didn't like to think about what that warmth was. He didn't like to think about what that warmth meant. "Are you okay?"

Still Dean couldn't bring himself to look up. He felt out of sorts, like his skin was too tight. It wasn't fair. He'd tasted happiness, once, tangled up in the arms of an angel. His angel, the one who saved him. Literally. The one who gripped him tight. That was all fine and dandy, but Castiel hadn't let go, and well. Dean wasn't sure how to deal with that.

"No, Cas," Dean had said. His voice was raw. He knew his voice always dropped right before it cracked, then it'd spike up an octave but that would mean he was actually crying, and he didn't want to do that.

"I don't understand, Dean," Castiel says and Dean laughs.

"Of course you don't. You don't understand anything."

Castiel is just standing there, arms straight down at his side. He'd confided in Dean, once, that he thought he was becoming more human. He'd told Dean that he was afraid, and wasn't that funny? To become human is to gain feeling, but with that feeling comes fear, and he was never afraid of being human until it started to happen. Dean had pulled Cas in tight and murmured something that sounded like, "Don't be afraid, you were made to go out and get her," which hadn't made a lick of sense to Castiel, but he could tell it was meant to be comforting and so let himself be comforted. Dean had kept singing, because Dean understood. Fear had been following Dean since he was four. Dean could understand.

Castiel couldn't.

"You can help me to," Castiel says. "If you help me understand what's wrong, I can help you to make you feel better."

"Stop it!" Dean explodes. He's standing up, inches from Castiel's face, and he couldn't stop himself if he tried. "All you do is try to help me! I'm tired of it! I'm tired of this! Whatever this is!" He's lying. He could never get tired of this, whatever this is.

Castiel does not say anything. He just watches, which is infuriating. But his eyes are soft. Dean can see the struggle behind them, but he isn't judging. He's just trying. And that should be even more infuriating, but it kind of just takes the wind out of Dean's sails.

"You're going to fight me the entire way, aren't you?" Castiel says finally.

"What're you talkin' about?" Dean asks, sagging onto the bed.

Castiel kneels in front of Dean, taking his hands into his own. "'This, whatever this is.' It does not matter to you why I stay, because all you can focus on is that 'why' going away. It doesn't matter to you that I have made my choice. It doesn't matter to you that I have changed to the very core for you, because all that change means to you is that I may someday change from the being who loves you into a being who will leave you. And it does not matter how much I assure you that I will always love you, and I always will, Dean, because I would not have sacrificed everything for an ending.

All you can see is yourself. You see something that I do not, and you don't deem yourself worthy. I will never understand that part of you, or why you will fight me the entire way, but I deem you worthy. And that should be enough."

Dean started to cry at the word 'love.' He'd been on the brink the entire time, but hearing that had pushed him over the edge and when the fuck did he become such a girl? Castiel pulls Dean into an embrace at the end of his little spiel, pressing a kiss into Dean's hair and whispering, "I love you, Dean Winchester."

"I love you, Dean Winchester, and I do not understand why this is so difficult for you to accept."

"Because you're so much better than me, Cas," Dean finally manages, because maybe Sam was right, always pressing him to talk it out. Maybe Sam had a point. Maybe if he just said it, it would fix itself. That's how 'talking about it' was supposed to work, right? "Relationships… we're supposed to be on the same playing ground, the two of us, and we're not. …or, y'know, something like that." He trails off towards the end, embarrassed. He stares at the floor and refuses to look Castiel in the eye.

Castiel actually huffs out a laugh, but it sounds self-deprecating and it catches all of Dean's attention. He looks up, teeth catching on his lip, and Dean's never felt this vulnerable before. "We can agree to disagree on that, Dean. I am not better than you."

"But-,"

"No, Dean," Castiel interrupts. He presses a chaste kiss to Dean's lips and without moving back he says, "Please, allow yourself happiness. Allow me the joy of seeing you joyful."

Dean does not answer. He sinks into Castiel's arms and tries to feel better, and he doesn't, but he tries. And Castiel just has to accept that that's the best it's gonna get, because Dean won't ever see what Cas sees in him.

And Dean, maybe one day, will stop feeling as though he has to atone for his sins. Maybe one day he will forgive himself, and maybe one day he won't look at Castiel and see just this angel, this untouchable being, and maybe one day instead he'll see someone who loves him, and maybe one day, Dean will let Castiel in.

Maybe one day Dean will let Castiel love him, as much as Dean loves Castiel.

Maybe one day, far away from now, Dean will allow himself that happiness that Castiel promises. Maybe one day.

xXx

Castiel isn't gone in the morning. He's still wrapped up in Dean's arms, and Dean smiles before he can catch himself. Castiel presses a kiss onto Dean's mouth, and his cheeks, and then his eyelids, and nose, and forehead, before places one more on his mouth. Dean lets him.

"I have business to attend to elsewhere, but I thought I would stay," Castiel says.

Dean yawns and pretends the pang in his heart wasn't growing more painful each second. "You didn't have to."

"I will always stay, when you need me."

Dean tries to ignore the implications of that statement. He nods instead of thinking about it, and says, "But you have to go now. I understand."

"I will be back when you need me. Even if you don't. Unless you don't want me, of course."

"I'll always want you," Dean says before he can stop himself. Castiel just smiles with his entire face and disappears. Dean lays there and stares at the ceiling, at the water damage that almost looks like a design. It fits the ceiling, he thinks. A beautiful accident. Then he decides that he's being stupid, and crawls out of bed. He brushes his teeth and takes a shower, and feels better than he has in months. Lighter.

He knocks on Sam's door, and Sam looks him over anxiously.

Dean just shrugs and says, "If anyone's gonna get hurt in this, I'm probably going to hurt him, but he's not going to let me. I think I can live with that."

Sam doesn't answer, but he looks satisfied and apologetic all wrapped in one.

"It's okay," Dean says as they hit road again.

"Or, it will be. One day."