This is my first fan fiction, so i apologize if it's terrible; comment and review if you have time please; I'd like to know what you think :)

Also, I'm sorry this one's so short, it was really a tester chapter and is more like a prologue than a chapter

Sam, Dean and Jimmy sat around the small hotel table; the man who'd been chosen as Castiel's vessel was currently eating away at about three hamburgers at once. Dean couldn't decipher whether to be impressed or mildly sickened at the unusual sight.

"Do you remember anything about being possessed? Anything at all?" Sam pressed, eager for some useful information. They'd found the man unconscious, where Cas had told Dean to meet him in the dream not an hour beforehand. Dean shuddered when he tried to picture what could have happened in the time between the dream and when they arrived.

"Hm- Bits and pieces. Angel inside of you, it's kind of like being tied to a comet." Jimmy replied off-handily between bites of his hamburgers. It was obvious, Dean perceived, that Jimmy wasn't picking up on the urgency in which they needed this information - if his extreme casual manner was anything to go by.

"Huh, well that doesn't sound like much fun." Dean quipped; it felt wrong and overly uncomfortable - seeing Cas, but knowing it's not really Cas.

His eyes widened in acknowledgement at Dean's words and he nodded enthusiastically. "Understatement."

Sam leaned forward in earnest, getting straight to the point. "…Cas said he wanted to tell us something. Please tell me you remember that." And if Sam's puppy eyes and pleading voice didn't get the message across that this was an urgent

Jimmy lifted his shoulders in a silent 'I don't know,' before replying with, "Sorry."

In response, Dean rolled his eyes and asked, "Come on- what do you know?" Because there had to be something. Anything. Cas couldn't just be gone.

Jimmy looked at Dean, then at Sam, and then Dean again, as if weighing his options. After briefly closing his eyes in nervousness, he turned toward Dean and stammered, "Uh- well I don't... know if it's relevant to the situation." He hedged, gaze flickering over the hunters in equal parts consideration and scrutiny, but he didn't meet their eyes.

Dean's curiosity piqued. The solemn conversation he'd had with Castiel had left him with a twist in his stomach and an ache in his gut - amply at the pained longing that was so blatant in his expression. He wanted to know what had caused such an emotion in his usually stoic angel, and he had a feeling that whatever Jimmy wasn't telling them could satiate that. He chanced a glance over at Sam who was sharing an understanding look with Jimmy, and it only confused him further. What did Sam think he knew about any of this that Dean didn't? "I don't give a rat's ass if it's relevant, Jimmy; if you think you know something about Cas then we want to hear it."

Jimmy looked to his little brother as if seeking approval, which Sam gave through a curt nod. Seriously, what the Hell was going on? Finally he turned to Dean, and the hunter couldn't help but notice that the man's eyes weren't as vibrantly blue as he remembered. Huh. Maybe that was an angel thing. Or a Cas thing.

Like your sexuality, came a voice inside his head. He shook it away. So not the time for that.

"It's just that um.. Castiel, he uh, he loves you." Jimmy revealed, face contorted like he was bracing for impact, that, to be honest, in any other situation, would've been hilarious. But Dean wasn't paying attention to anything but the roar of the tide that was crashing in his ears, and the echo of he loves you in his mind. He swallowed the retorts that sat at the back of his throat, the first one being are you shitting me? because Castiel was- well he was Castiel, the angel who pulled his sorry ass out of Hell, who had saved him more times than he could count by now, who, for a guy who was supposed to be an emotionless dick, was so painfully open, yet so frustratingly secretive and possibly the most complicated contradiction that Dean had ever had the agitation of trying to figure out. But Jimmy and Sam were both looking at him with expectant and cautious expressions, so Dean knew that they were not, in fact, shitting him.

As the silence stretched out, Jimmy became more anxious and eventually raised his hands in a panicked defense. "I'm only telling you what I know; I may have only picked up on bits and pieces of what was happening, but Castiel's feelings were always explicit to me." He blurted, words tumbling out of his mouth in a desperate attempt to elaborate before he was punched in the face by the hunter. Once again, Dean distantly noted how funny this would all seem had it not been happening to him.

Which is why Dean shot a dirty glare at Sam, who was currently looking as if he couldn't decide whether to be relieved that someone had finally said it, or to revel in Dean's helplessness, before he turned back to Jimmy, who was, quite frankly (and understandably), a little scared of the awkward situation he was currently being forced into. He cast a look to the ceiling, as if asking the Lord for help, (and seriously, after what he'd been through, you'd think the guy had given up the whole prayer thing) and then fixed his eyes back on Dean's.

"Look, just- that's what I know, for sure. Castiel, Angel of the Lord, is in love with Dean Winchester. It's not just me; you two are like- you're meant to be in the most tragically forbidden way." He finished, and the silence set in again.

Dean swallowed, and Sam – noticing his stress and for once not being a complete douche about it – led Jimmy to the other room with the temptation of dessert, leaving him to think this new development over.

How could he not have noticed something through those soul-searing stares that they often shared?

Sometimes Dean became painfully aware of his attraction to the angel and forced himself to physically distance himself from the angel as to fight the urge to confront him about it. You know, 'Personal space, Cas.'

Of course, in Dean's fantasies those confrontations would often lead to them ripping each others clothes off.

So yeah, Dean had thought about it too; what it would be like to touch Cas, to really touch him, kiss him, spread him out all nice and pretty and slip into his tight heat, feel it all around him. To pound into him slow and dirtily until he was begging Dean to just take him, falling apart beneath him as-

Dean jerked abruptly and cleared his throat, shaking his head as if to rid himself of such thoughts before he got a boner with the vessel of the guy he wanted to shag, and his brother in the next room.

But, as Dean mulled over his albeit inappropriate but definitely there feelings for Castiel, he realized that it went far deeper than just a need for pleasure or physical sensation; he loved Cas; been blown away by him since the moment he burst into that barn, lights flickering and smashing in his presence. From there it had been a slow descent into a burning passion and need for Cas – not just his body or his Grace, but his awkwardness, his head tilting and his constant and infuriating aversion to answering his questions and his 'misunderstanding' of personal space.

Dean Winchester, esteemed hunter - apparently former - ladies' man and all-around emotionally constipated jerk (as Sam like to so delicately put it), was in love. With a male angel, named Castiel.

His father would be so proud.

"Cas, hold up," Dean called out, needing to talk to Castiel. He turned on his heel slowly, and the look in his eyes made him want to cower behind Sammy and never speak to him again, but he plowed through.

"What were you gonna tell me? He asked, and it was as if everything he felt, all his hopes and fantasies were balanced a tight, fragile rope; a line on the verge of breaking into a million, tiny smithereens.

Cas' gaze flickered for a moment before returning to him and speaking a truth that would ricochet in his mind for ages to come.

"I learned my lesson while I was away Dean; I serve Heaven, I don't serve man. And I certainly don't serve you." And with that Castiel turned back around and walked away without so much as a glance back at him, leaving Dean to pick up the pieces.