Sorry this chapter feels kind of short to me, I'm pretty sure the next one will be longer. This is not gonna be a very long fic (chapter wise) and while I don't have everything written out yet, I have the story mostly thought out. I'm gonna try and update as fast as possible, but this may be hard considering schools just started again. Anyway I'm gonna do my best and please let me know if this is worth continuing.

When he was young Cas had never been able to resist Dean. He couldn't resist him when he was coaxed away from school and classes for the leather enclosed seats of his impala, and a promised day of ignoring responsibilities. And he couldn't resist him later when they rolled into the night on the cramped bed in Cas' room, hands wandering lazily over each other's bodies, arousal winning out over the need for sleep, though they knew there would be hell to pay if they woke someone up. So the likely hood of his resistance when they were older had never been high to begin with. What did it matter that they hadn't seen each other in nearly fourteen years?

Daphne had taken it all very well when they hashed out the specifics in the kitchen while Dean occupied himself with a shower, and honestly Cas hadn't expected any different from her. She sat at the kitchen table across from him, smiling gently, still wearing her scrubs from a day shift at the hospital."I didn't know you had a gay thing," she'd mocked amusedly, when he finally finished his story, excluding some of the more melodramatic details, "That's kinda hot actually." She quirked her eyebrow in response to his disgruntled huff.

"Well it's all over now," he countered glancing away from her glinting eyes and around the tastefully decorated apartment they had scraped together within the span of their established relationship. He could only guess what Dean thought of all this. Being the sleep on a park bench before domesticity type that he was, he probably thought it was all a big joke. "He's run into some troubles with his land lord and apparently I'm the only one who'll take him in," Sam was in California now, studying for the bar. Dean had explained it vaguely earlier that night when they sat at The Roadhouse with respectable space between them. He hadn't clarified the 'troubles' though which worried Cas because he knew Dean and he didn't want him around if his plan was to rampage the delicately constructed life Cas had built up.

Daphne reached across the table to thread his fingers between hers. Her smile softened, "If you think it's a good idea, then he can stay as long as he wants to... If he doesn't mind the couch that is."

"Couch sounds perfect," came the response from the doorway of their bedroom before Cas could decided whether, in fact it was a good idea. He turned, hand still joined with Daphne's, to find Dean leaning casually against the wooden fame, naked but for a Daphne's favorite salmon pink towel wrapped loose around his hips and a trade mark smirk that fit him as well as it had when he was twenty-two and pushing Cas into the walls of back allies. Cas glanced hesitantly at Daphne, gauging her reaction, and he supposed Dean was doing the exact same thing, since nothing was coincidence when he was involved. She looked startled, and Cas wondered what exactly about Dean made her so surprised. He was sure there was plenty to choose from.

"I'm Dean by the way, nice to officially meet you," he said stepping forward with an ease so repressed it made Cas' toes curl just to see it again. Daphne pulled her hand from Cas' to meet the one extended in her direction and smiled politely, doing her best to keep her eyes on Dean's face because that was the way she'd been raised.

"Nice to meet you too," She nodded before retracting her hand and folding it over the table as Dean sat down in the chair between the couple, still in complete disregard for his inappropriate state of undress. Up close the droplets of moisture still clinging to his skin were visible as they trekked their way down the sharp turns of his body. He'd filled out since they'd last seen each other, face as well as body, separate from the soft curves of youth, sharper and thicker than before. "Would you like some tea? We have a very nice collection if you're interested," Daphne offered, and Cas caught the jump in her cheek as she tried to school her expression.

"Tea sounds lovely," Dean's smile stretched from ear to ear and his eyebrows pulled towards his hairline. It was a bullshit detector look, one that Cas was familiar with because Dean would wear it every time he talked to Michael or Cas' mom. He was laughing at them, disrespecting the life Cas had chosen for himself, and it made his insides bubble, and his knuckles whiten from the pull of his clenched fingers.

As Daphne clanked around in the en-suite kitchen, Dean turned towards Cas with an audacious eye roll at her attempts of hospitality. Cas shifted in his seat, he knew Dean well enough to know he was doing this on purpose, and therefore refused to let his frustrations show. He'd always liked getting under his skin, and he refused to give him the pleasure of success.

...

Ms Barns was late to class, and the kids were getting rambunctious in her absence. Some stood on the chairs smelted to the desks belting out profanities that could surely even make a sailor blush. Others occupied themselves with a game of paper basketball, throwing crumpled wads of their trash, dynamically as possible towards the metal waste basket sitting by the door. Most of the girls had grouped off into their own desk clusters filing their nails, and making goo-goo eyes at the more athletic members of their class, the very same that projetile vomited their testosterone across rooms just to gauge the attention of their fellow neanderthals.

Castiel sunk further into his seat hiding his face in the crease of his arms in the hopes that if he feigned sleep his fellow classmates would leave him alone. At best school was sufferable, however when the kids were left to their own devises for more than three minutes at a time the baribility of the day dropped to new lows, and the reserved junior could only hope that he would be left alone.

"Hya, Clarence."

It took all his practiced antisocial strategies to restrain a groan at the sound of the purring voice perched somewhere to his left. Meg Master's was arguably the worst part of his year, refusing to take the hint to leave him alone, and relentlessly stalking him like a lioness after an antelope despite his continuous resistances. It would almost be admirable if it wasn't so damn distressing. Attempting to keep up his act Castiel shifted, huffed a sigh, but kept his head tucked firmly beneath the fabric of his hoodie. If he was lucky she would buy the act and move on to fresher prey.

"Tough luck, Clarence, I know you ain't asleep, so you can drop the act," Meg muttered closer to his ear, and he finally cracked an eye open to find her staring down at him. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty," she sing-songed and he supposed he could be thankful in the fact that her voice was unlike the irritably pitchy register of most teenaged girls, and carried at a lower rate.

"Meg," he sighed, finally sitting up so she wouldn't loom over him as much, and he could feel easier in his own skin.

"Enjoying our free period?" she asked tipping her head with a teasing smile, and he had no doubt that she knew he would rather be anywhere else.

"Immensely," he breathed then rubbed his hands tiredly over his face. What was the point of staying up to two in the morning finalizing the detail of a seven page essay on 'Hun migration patterns' if his teacher failed to collect it the next day.

"I bet she's with the transfer student," Meg stated rocking her head back to swing her dark curls over one shoulder.

Castiel's eyes squinted. He hadn't heard of a transfer student, nor did he want a transfer student. The school was lacking in neither male nor female and any further addition to the lot could very much tip the scale of the entire community that Castiel had learned to revolve around. "Who?" he finally asked, and Meg smirked, satisfied that she finally yanked forth his interest.

"Dean something-or-other. Hasn't been here three day and everyone's already saying he's a hottie. I personally can't wait to meet him, Lisa Brendon says he has a thing for brunettes," Meg recited for Castiel's benefit, but he was already bored. Instead he snorted disdainfully, and Meg arched an eyebrow at him, "Jealous already, Clarence?

Don't worry I still love you most."

Castiel rolled his eyes, in this case he wouldn't particularly mind a little less love.

...

"Do you want some clothes Dean?" he finally muttered, more as a suggestion than anything. If Dean was going to invade his home after years of separation then he was going to act like a decent human being and dress like everybody else.

"I guess," Dean shrugged, lazily scooting out of his chair, following Cas back into the bedroom, and subtly pushing the door shut behind them as he walked in. Cas' insides jumped at the confirming click of their isolation, yet he thoroughly ignored Dean as he bent for the drawer of their wardrobe. He remained selectively oblivious to the burn of Dean's eyes as they landed on his ass while he bent over. When he turned towards Dean again it was to hand him the neatly stacked underwear, t-shirt, and lounge pants, folded with the precision of a store clerk because Daphne liked to keep things orderly.

Dean's eyebrow raised as he examined the clothes, but as some divine gift stayed silent. He did however drop the towel around him without so much as a warning leaving him bare as the day he was born, and Cas with a flush on his face. There was shame to be found at the seconds of his floundering before he turned in the opposite direction, and his frustration built though he knew Dean was probably loving every moment.

"Now, now, don't be shy," His voice was a low grumble and the rustle of fabric was the only indication that Dean had moved at all, "Not like you haven't seen it before."

"That doesn't mean I'm keen on seeing it again," he grit the response confidently, though he suddenly had no idea what to do with his hands. Not to mention Dean's doubtful snort that did little, but insinuate something long since barricaded in the recesses of Cas' mind.

"Whatever man," and Cas could practically envision the disinterested shake of head that no doubt accompanied his bland words. "What detergent do you use, this shit's damn soft," Dean exclaimed offhandedly, and he assumed they were speaking of clothes now.

Cas hesitantly turned around in time to catch him pulling the final piece of dress over his head, concealing that last bit of skin around his waist still tan from the summer. He felt more at ease now that Dean was dressed again so he hardly noticed the pause that hung over them as they looked each other over in the dimly lit room. Dean was as nice in his clothes as he was out of them. Being bigger than Cas, even as teenagers, the shirt clung flatteringly to his torso, and the pants sat perfectly, being typically loose on Cas. Daphne was always trying to buy him clothes his own size, but he stubbornly stuck to his old ones, reveling in the comfort founded in them.

"You'll have to ask Daphne," Cas finally answered his eyes climbing to meet Dean's for maybe the first time since they were twenty-two.

Dean smiled, different from his earlier leers. When he spoke he was quiet, but Cas knew it had little to do with the proximity of his girlfriend in the other room, "You look good."

Cas blinked, finding that corners of his lips were raising in their own version of joy, "So do you."

...

"You okay, Daph?" Cas asked even later into the night when they stood side-by-side in the bathroom, finishing their respective night time rituals. Dean was presumably passed out on the couch at this point, berried in blankets in case the heat gave out during the night as it was prone to do. They were finally alone, and if there were issues now was the time to discuss them.

"Of course," she stated definitely, but the skip in her eyes clued him to her doubts.

"Did you change your mind? Should I kick him out?" Cas interrogated, turning towards her to gently cup her shoulders between his hands. He rubbed at them with his thumbs in a soothing gesture. If his own qualms weren't enough to hinder him, then Daphne's surely would. One word from her and Dean would be out the door, after all this was her home as well as his, and Cas had made his choices regarding Dean long ago.

"No, no, don't be silly," Daphne scoffed, but she didn't shoo his hands, instead lifting her own to cover his. They were warm against his skin that chilled in the water of the bathroom sink.

"If there's something bothering you, you can tell me. I won't be offended."

"It's silly, really, it's just-" she cut her self off, but he willed her to hold his gaze, "I hadn't expected him to be so... well.. hot."

Cas smiled gently, "I'm offended that you ever doubted my taste in men." At this Daphne scoffed, and slapped a hand playfully across his chest.

"That's not what I meant," she protested, but before she could add anything else Cas pulled her in close, pressing his lips lightly to hers, then pulled away to look at her again.

"You have nothing to worry about. I don't care about him anymore, Daph.. and I love you." His thumb grazed across her cheek now, and she leaned into the touch, meeting his gaze again.

"I trust you," she sighed, "I love you too."

So what do you think, should I continue?