I imagine Castiel would have a hard time trusting and putting himself out there after Deborah, so that's where this came from.
He can't keep doing this. It's not fair on Lysander. For all the enjoyment it brings him, there's the nagging guilt at the end of the night where he wonders if he can ever give Lysander what he wants. He might never love him back they way he deserves.
He's been absolutely clear that he's not looking for someone to fall in love with, that these are all just one-night stands, and Lysander has been seemingly content with the fact that this is as much as they might ever have. It sounds perfect, so why isn't it?
The thought of damaging their friendship over this is twisting knots in the pit of his stomach. Lysander is unlike anyone he's ever met, he's his irreplaceable, unique best friend and when Castiel really thinks about it, he can't imagine doing this with anyone else. It's not like he dislikes this, far from it, but he knows it will end in tragedy. He doesn't need past experiences to tell him that, common sense tells him that young love doesn't last and once a relationship disintegrates the friendship rarely weathers the storm.
Sometimes he thinks about going out with Lysander for a bite to eat or maybe heading to a concert together, doing the sort of dumb couple stuff that people their age do. Sometimes these thoughts are exciting, accompanied by the cliché butterfly feelings that people talk about in romantic films. Other times it feels overwhelming, thinking that no matter what he does he'll mess up their friendship somehow, that Lysander will just drop him one day and move on something or someone better.
He can trace the origins of these fears too; heartbreak. Deborah. Even before he knew that Nathaniel never came onto her, that she was just using him too, it fucked him up. Her leaving for bigger and better things crushed him, and he knows that there's the possibility that Lysander could do the same. He's a singer and a songwriter, he's the lead of the band with his own distinctive voice. That's more important to a record company that any replaceable guitarist.
It's fucking sad that his stupid schoolboy puppy love has messed him up so much, but it's the truth. But in a way, he doesn't think he can completely blame Deborah. It's a dog eat dog world and she just realised it before him, that's all. He shouldn't have been so damn naïve and trusted her. He won't make the same mistake and put himself out there again. Or at least he's not ready to make the leap and risk it. He doesn't know if he'll ever be ready. God, he's over her but she's left her mark.
Their one time thing has become part of their generic weekend. Lysander stayed over last night. Before they began this, that wouldn't have been unusual. Lysander often came by on a Friday afternoon and stayed until late on a Saturday evening. But Castiel was uneasy with the idea of morning afters and without discussing it, Lysander adopted a sort of walk of shame, leaving for home each night after he'd redressed. But the black of night and poor Winter conditions made Lysander hesitant to the journey home in the dark. Ironically enough, after noticing Lysander's frequent presence at home on Friday nights, Leigh wondered if Castiel and Lysander were growing distant.
It couldn't be further from the truth; Castiel's gotten too close and now he can't possibly pull back. He was so focused on keeping things casual that he hardly noticed that they were forming a routine. Their relationship lacked the typical excitement and romance by design, but that meant that it resembled something more established, more domestic. Without realising it, they've fallen in deep.
More than yes or no, Castiel doesn't know what he wants. He wants Lysander, he wants not to get hurt again. His thoughts on the matter are so disjointed, so fragmented, he doesn't think he'll ever see through the haze in his mind and come to a conclusion.
Maybe it would be easier if he were less aware of his shortcomings or less aware of the infinite number of ways this could turn out horribly. But he isn't. He's broken, he can't open up or be honest with his feelings and he damn well knows it. He's terrified of feeling vulnerable now. He's terrified of losing Lysander as a friend.
So it's conflicting waking up next to Lysander. As apprehensive as he is about the whole thing, he has to admit that this part is exciting, he's filled with pleasant memories of the night before and a desire to preserve the present moment of having Lysander lying asleep next to him, hair tussled and face flushed. Isn't this what people supposedly dream about? Waking up next to their best friend?
He won't dwell on it now, Demon's scratching at the bedroom door, probably hoping to get something to eat. Castiel slept in late today, so Demon's a little overeager for breakfast. Castiel pulls on a hoodie and the first pair of jeans he sees; before he does anything, he should probably take Demon outside to do his business. He grabs the lead and slips on a pair of shoes he finds by the front door, unlocking and locking it again silently in an effort not to disturb Lysander.
What should only take a minute or two takes an age, because Demon seems intent on sniffing the base of every tree and on running circles around every streetlamp. But Castiel doesn't mind too much, the fresh air gives him a chance to clear his head.
He knows he doesn't want this to end just yet. It may have started as a once off thing but it's swiftly become something more. But the 'what if's' and the fear of the unknown is destroying this relationship's potential. He's his own worst enemy and he doesn't know if he can overcome it. Even if he does move past his fears, he's not expecting that they jump straight into candle lit dinners and picnics, he can't ever picture himself as that guy. But maybe he's the type of guy who'd like to continue waking up next to Lysander.
"What do you think, boy?" Demon only wags his tail and expectedly, Castiel gets no reply.
When Castiel returns home, Lysander is awake and in the kitchen making breakfast, dressed entirely unlike himself. He's wearing one of Castiel's t-shirts he probably picked up off the floor. Before he gets Demon something to eat, Castiel pauses, taking a moment to wonder how often he's seen Lysander dressed in keeping with societies norms.
"You could have stayed in bed," Castiel says, filling the dog bowl. "You didn't need to make breakfast."
"I didn't mind," Lysander begins, dishing out fried eggs and sausages. "I'm used to it, Leigh doesn't cook."
Demon abandons his breakfast, instead he crouches beneath Lysander's seat at the table, hoping for whatever scraps he can get. Castiel shoots him a knowing look, letting him know that there's not a hope in hell that he'll get so much as a bite and Demon retreats to his bowl.
"He knows you're a soft touch," Castiel says with a grin and Lysander can't deny it.
From there they move into conversation about the rest of their weekend. There's a film Lysander wants to go see, it's some arthouse thing that doesn't interest Castiel in the least, so he keeps quiet and pays attention only towards the food on his plate.
Castiel takes a breath, readying himself for what he's about to say. "Or we could stay in, Die Hard is on tonight." He doesn't suggest that Lysander stay over, but hopes it's implied. He's not good at this stuff yet, but he's making baby steps.