This story is for Countess Impossible, the light that leads me to the hidden world of Supernatural slash fics X3 I LOVE YOU AND I WANT TO HUG YOU IN A SEMI-NON-CREEPY WAY!

o_o Okay, then. On to the story!

Chapter One: Lover Come Back

Dean sat on the very edge of the bed, leaning over, his shoes planted firmly on the scuffed floor boards. Stress turned his knuckles white while he gripped his dark hair in frustration. The harsh pounding of his heart was the only sound he could hear.
It seemed like his own body was against him, muscles tensed, restless energy threatening to rip him apart so his soul could escape.

If only he could escape.

The painful rhythm pulsing through him was most likely the result of a brutal hangover and the unrestrained act of love-making he had engaged in last night. Every part of him ached and it took his last ounce of strength to lift his head up from where it rested, chin pressing into his chest.

He looked across the room at the door, still locked and closed tightly. It was hard to decide whether it was designed to keep him inside, or bar the way from the thing he wanted most. The one person he had ever been in love with.

The gravity of exhaustion was a steady force that kept him pinned where he was. But the dead tired weight that grounded his body could do nothing to calm the wild thoughts racing through his mind.

Only hours before, when the night was young and the darkness was dominating everything, wiping out all common sense, knocking down all boundaries, Dean had gone to bed with someone. Someone who meant more to him than the entire world.

They fell into bed under the influence of alcohol, made love, and now Dean awoke to find himself alone. The bed was empty but for him.
He had bolted up and gotten half-dressed before realization dawned.

He had been abandoned.

And not just by anyone- Castiel Novak was Dean's best friend. They went through middle school and took on high school together. Just yesterday they had graduated with flying colors and were ready to face the world together.

Everyone that knew them, knew they were inseparable. It was taken for granted that Dean was always with Castiel, and Castiel was always with Dean. And, although their relationship was often under scrutiny, no one expected it to change.

But it had.

At the after-graduation party, Dean and Castiel partook in a drinking contest, even though Castiel rarely drank, and downed more shots than either could count. They lost track of time and were soon heading back to the boarding room they shared. It felt to them as if time were at a standstill; that the night could go on forever.

And, at some point in the midst of the excitement and laughter, Dean had been overcome with the sudden urge to take Castiel's perfect smiling mouth with his own. Neither of them knew what took over next. But the feelings that flooded their minds and hearts were all they could focus on. Everything else was lost.
Things escalated quickly and they made love three earthshattering times before collapsing in a haze of heavy limbs and blinding euphoria.

Then Dean awoke.

He didn't even remember falling asleep. One minute he was lying next to Cas, breathing in his sweet whispers. The next, he was reaching out for a lover that was no longer there.

The sheets beside him were cool, leaving Dean wondering if maybe he dreamed it all. Then he saw the note. Placed with care on the dresser beside the bed.

Dean's hand shook when he reached for it, the cold dread tying knots in his stomach. There was nothing he could do to stop the hot tears from falling as he read:

.

Dean,
You will probably not remember most of last night... But if you do, then know that I am sorry.
You are my best friend and I didn't mean to take things this far. I'm sorry if I hurt you.
I'm on my way now to find that adventure we always talked about. Take care of yourself. Don't worry.
Please forgive me.

Cas.

.

The ink blurred and seeped along the page with the tears Dean shed. His fist tightened around the letter and anger washed over him. He wished he could wipe those words from the face of the earth. He wished he had never read them. He wished he hadn't fallen asleep and let Castiel slip away. And he wished that he had never started this in the first place.

Castiel was the best- and only- friend he ever had. Their friendship was the deepest bond Dean had ever formed. And he had broken that. He burned everything down when he opened that forbidden door and pushed Castiel through it.

And in that moment, for the first time in his life, Dean Winchester realized that he was in love.

And it was all over. The same reason he discovered the truth was the reason it was all impossible.

That broke Dean inside.

Sure, it could have been merely lust for a while there; especially those moments in the beginning when it had been about getting more. More contact, more flesh, more skin against skin friction.

But it was those moments afterward; after all the passion and heat. That peaceful, blissful silence when all they wanted to say, all the things they felt, was known in the sound of their breathing and pulses racing just beneath their skin. It was then that Dean experienced a revelation of astounding proportions and staggering clarity.

He was in love with his best friend. He was in love with Castiel.

Maybe he had always been and never considered it before now. Maybe Castiel was in love with him, too. Surely there was more motivating his responses than alcohol. There had to be some kind of longing behind his actions other than lust-driven desire.

And when they were roused from the deliciously fevered cloud of sleep by the dawn's bright rays, they could admit it to themselves and to each other in the simple act of snuggling closer and creating a whole new warmth from the love in their hearts.

But Castiel was gone. Long gone. Dean had searched the entire room, only to find it devoid of all of Castiel's belongings. Not a single thing of his remained. It was as if he had never been there in the first place.

...

Five years had passed since Dean left his home town to start a new life.

Things hadn't gone very well for him in the months after graduation. His half-brother, Sam, had been put in rehab for substance abuse. His dad had died of a heart attack, leaving his step-mom all alone. Being confined to a wheelchair, she was unable to pay the bills. They sold their house and she moved in with her sister.

Dean had offered to stay around, get a job, and support them. But, being a firm believer in following your dreams, she encouraged him to venture out into the world and 'discover' himself. He obeyed, even though he thought it unnecessary. He knew exactly who he was. He was a soulless, heartless waste of a life.

Ever since that night, his relationships never lasted longer than the time it took to go to bed and satisfy his lust. Any longer than that and his hunger for something else pushed them away anyway.

He didn't want to deal with that. He didn't want to hurt other people. And no matter what he did, he felt empty inside.

In place of his heart, there was a black hole. A dark emptiness that receded only when he drowned himself in every vice he could think of. But he was never cured, only distracted from the pain that made him want to end himself and this torment.

But he would never kill himself. There was another force preventing that. A shining glimmer of light in the middle of his pitch black heart. And it was hope.
Hope that, someday, somehow, things would get better and he could smile for real again. He could love someone again.

For now, however, he had to survive on the cheap smiles and bitter liquids of whatever bar he happened to be close to.

As usual, he wore a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and his traditional leather jacket. His hair was still slightly wet from the shower he had taken previously and stuck up in an unruly fashion. Despite this, none of the girls could keep their eyes off of him when he entered his pick-up locale of the night.

It was a lovely establishment full of painted up hookers and rowdy men. Dean recognized the song blasting from the speakers as Dove&Grenade by Hollywood Undead. Not something he listened to, but Sam had introduced him to them before, and it seemed to suit the mood perfectly.

He sauntered to the bar and leaned against it, scanning the clientele for a worthy bedfellow. There were a few blondes that looked down for a romp.

Sultry red-head in the corner.

Black haired man in a booth.

Dean's blood ran cold. He didn't know what his expression looked like, but it probably betrayed the anxiety he felt.

The man was talking animatedly, illustrating some details with his hands. His movements were foreign, but after five years Dean couldn't be sure. Not from here. Dean watched him for several minutes, waiting for him to turn around. Finally, he addressed the waitress and Dean could see his face.

It wasn't him.

The disappointment took Dean by surprise and he had to sit down. The sheer force of it took his breath away. He was going to have to recover his composure quickly if he planned to seduce any of the patrons.

Suddenly he heard something that shook him to his core.

"Dean Winchester?"

The voice came from behind and he slowly turned around to face its owner. His eyes widened as he recognized the raven hair and blue eyes. The tall lean form and long coat. The searching gaze and perfect, parted lips.

It was Castiel.

If Dean hadn't been sitting down, his knees would have buckled beneath him.