Driving down the dark highway late at night with Sam asleep in the passenger seat left a conflicted Dean Winchester alone to his thoughts. Thoughts of his family, both happy and sad, were recurring thoughts and memories that he would go back to again and again during hard times. In the past, he would easily slip into a happier time to distract himself from whatever case him and Sam were caught up in, but then it became more and more difficult to pull away. That was, until Castiel became the only thing on his mind.

His daydreams often consisted of himself with his family, baby Sammy would sometimes make an appearance, but his parents were always there. They were always unlike they were now. Mother burned alive on the ceiling and a father killed by a demon. Now they were left fighting the fight, carrying on the family business. Meeting people, saying goodbye in one way or another. Everyone they love dies.

But the angel…

Dean Winchester often thought about himself and Castiel. Often. So often he wondered if bits of his dreams would drift to the angel, and call him to him. Part of him hoped it would, but another part dreaded to address his feelings. He would repress them, bottle them, and push them down deep down where the rest of his feelings remained. He wondered if he would explode one day like a can of Coke that someone vigorously shook around and then decided to open. That's exactly how he felt.

He sometimes dreamt about having a family, like he had with Ben and Lisa. He dreamt about having a relationship. Dean craved a relationship like that, yes the relationship he had with his brother helped, but it wasn't enough. He loved his brother but he wanted a different type of love his brother couldn't provide, as much as all those crazed readers of Chuck wanted it. Maybe Cas-

His thoughts were abruptly cut off by a tingling sensation on his neck, signalling an angel in the back seat. He glanced up in the rear view mirror and, of course, saw Castiel himself. His arrival surprisingly didn't wake Sam, so Dean decided to keep on driving. The righteous man and the angel sat in awkward silence waiting for the other to speak first.

It was Cas that broke the stiff silence that filled the car, "Dean," he demanded in his gravelly voice.

"What Cas?" Dean was determined to act like he hadn't just been aggressively thinking of those deep blue eyes that stared at him in the mirror. Cas had his contemplating glare on his face as he tried to read Dean's face in the dark reflection of the mirror. Dean wasn't aware that he was able to see some of his dreams, at least the part that included him. The angel was unsure of how he felt about the righteous man. He knew he cared about him, but to what end?

"We need to talk." Dean subconsciously glanced at Sam, then back at Cas. "He won't wake up, I promise."

"What is there to talk about?" Going by the rules of interrogations, he knew if he spoke first he had lost.

"Dean you've been dreaming," Cas said in his low, rumbly voice. The blood in Dean's body ran a little bit colder at the thought of him knowing his dreams, which was unusual.

"Yes, that's what humans do, Cas." He earned a sigh from the angel who then gazed out the window at the passing scenery and the lights that occasionally flashed by.

"You've been dreaming about me." Dean ignored him while thinking of a way to avoid the conversation. "Dean, I don't understand human emotions well, but from what I've learned from you, this isn't normal."

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Explain it to me. How do you feel about me?"

"Cas-"

"I've never felt that before. I want to feel it again." This wasn't helping the rare growing nerve that the angel struck inside of him. No woman ever had him tied up like this. He, Dean Winchester, was insecure for once.

"Wait. First you snoop in on my dreams, now you tell me you can feel what I feel in dreams?"

"Yes."

"You don't get it at all, do you?" Dean laughed to himself. Cas just looked confused. "Cas, I can't explain it."

"But I want to understand."

"Hell, I don't even understand it," Dean said, slightly frustrated. "You're not supposed to understand it. That's the point."

"Is that what love is?"

"Damn it, Cas."

"Love is beautiful, then. I knew humans were capable of love, but I didn't think they were capable on this scale."

"They aren't," Dean clenched his jaw, uncomfortable about the angel's accusation.

"Do you love me, Dean?"

The wheels of the Impala screeched and squealed as Dean quickly pulled the car over on the side of the road angrily. He felt Cas bump against the seat as his velocity flung him forward after his sudden decrease of speed, but he kept slowing the car to just get off the road. He needed air. He didn't dare look in the back seat to see the angel's startled expression, who he knew would be fused with a slight expression of what could only be described as worry. He didn't dare glance back there. He didn't dare.

The car came to a stop, parked on the side of the dark, unlit highway. He turned the key and pulled it out, killing the engine and plunging everything into darkness. Suddenly fascinated with the hem on his black leather seats, he was deep in thought trying not to drive his fist through the window. The only reason he didn't was because he knew he would be the one who'd end up fixing the damned thing. Cas remained quiet in the back seat and Sam remained dead to the world, deep in sleep.

A light rain began to tap on the windows, the pitter patter of each drop bringing Dean back to a clearer sense of self. Regardless of the fact he was going to get soaked, he stepped out of the car. He needed the air to circulate through his lungs, cleanse his thoughts, and clear his heart of whatever the hell was going on. He didn't understand it. He had never felt anything like it, anything so pure.

It terrified him.

Right as he regained his composure, he heard the familiar squeak of a car door opening and he turned around to face those blue, blue eyes. They were so close to his, a little furrow of confusion between them. Dean's eyes regrettably flitted down to his soft pink lips that rested slightly open, something Dean always noticed but never respected until now. Every little bit of his face Dean knew, but he didn't realize how much he had come to memorize. He considered dipping his face to press his lips against the angel's, but he refrained. That was a step he wasn't ready to take.

"What goes on in that mind of yours when you look at me like that?" Cas said gently, breaking the uncomfortably prolonged silence. Dean's jaw clenched, as he treaded his water carefully.

"What? Can't you just pop in and see what's going on?"

"No, actually. I can only get into dreams. I am unable to enter thoughts in general," Cas grumbled in his typical low voice. Dean just looked down at the ground and turned away from Cas, leaning against the impala. The rain picked up, pouring down and finally soaking through the final layers in their clothes. Cas knew Dean was being irrational standing out in the rain, but he said nothing knowing that he would just set him off. He could almost physically feel the tension in the air from the man, and it actually succeeded to soak into his nerves, as well. Just as Dean was struggling with his own new sensations, so was the angel.

"I just, I don't understand, Cas. There's nothing you can do to help this, I don't even know what this is! I just…" Dean ran his hands through his hair, in a final frustrated attempt. Cas rushed over and got in the same close proximity he had been only a minute earlier. The blood rushed from Dean's face, cold setting in and leaving him freezing to the bone. He was stuck, unable to move, frozen in many different ways.

Then the unexpected happened.

Cas's hand slipped into place on either side of his face and he slowly brought Dean's face to his. Their lips pressed against each other, Dean melting at the touch in Cas' hands. Rain drops dripped down their faces, through their hair and bouncing off of their clothes. Neither noticed, however, because their lips repeatedly crashed against each other like waves crashing over a rocky shore. Dean's hand rested on Cas' waist, his lungs inhaling fire, exhaling desire over and over again. The cold left them, dissolving into the air with the tension that had just been released with their kiss.

"What the hell?" A voice tore Dean and Cas apart in less than a second as they jumped away hoping to seem as if all was normal. Dean looked over to a disheveled and utterly confused Sam standing on the other side of the car. He ran a hand through his now half soaked hair, then over his eyes in hope of seeing clearly to ensure he was seeing right. "Am I still asleep?"

"Unfortunately, you're wide awake," Dean mused, then turning to the angel he growled, "I thought you said he wouldn't wake up."

Cas only shrugged in response, cuing an eye roll from Dean, who turned back to Sam for some sort of response. He feared ridicule. But Sam actually laughed.

"It's about damn time."