Chapter Two: Sixteen

Dean did not see Castiel again until his sixteenth birthday. He had spent the last year thinking about seeing Castiel, even though he knew that Castiel had probably not spent his time in the same occupation in reference to Dean.

Their father barely remembered that it was Dean's birthday, and he seemed relieved to be able to leave his sons with Bobby while he went on yet another hunt. Bobby, despite being rather crotchety about most things, felt that birthdays should be celebrated in some way. For that reason he made the effort to bake Dean a chocolate cake from his grandmother's old recipe, and to give his adopted nephew a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. Dean flushed with pleasure at the realisation that Bobby had put himself out for him, and that Sam had used some of the money from his piggy bank, and bought Dean a tape of Guns 'N Roses.

They were sitting around the table eating cake when they heard the powerful roar of a car engine outside. Bobby frowned slightly and made his way to the gravel drive. The engine was abruptly cut off and Dean and Sam heard muffled voices in conversation. Dean almost dropped his fork when he saw Castiel come through the door with the languid grace that had been seared into Dean's memory.

"Seems we have a surprise guest, boys," Bobby announced, as he walked past Castiel and resumed his seat. "Have a piece of cake, Castiel."

Castiel smiled, and nodded as he made his way to the table and sat down next to Dean after cutting himself a slice of cake.

"Happy birthday, Dean. Bobby tells me that you're sixteen today. Congratulations."

Dean wanted to act confident and cocky, like he usually did with older men, except Bobby, but he found that his stomach felt tight with nerves and his skin hot with embarrassment and arousal. All he managed was to gaze at Castiel shyly and return the hunter's gentle smile.

After they had finished eating their cake, Dean went to go and sit on the porch as the sunset, casting long shadows in the yard. The sky glowed with soft oranges and pinks, and Dean could hear the songs of birds calling their mates and young to their nests.

"I like to watch the sunset, too," came a deep, gravely voice.

A shiver of pleasure ran down Dean's spine at the knowledge of whom the voice belonged to. He looked up and bit back a sigh at the stunning sight Castiel made in the fading light. His deep blue eyes were transfixing, and Dean felt as if the gentle light that filled them would consume him.

Castiel moved towards him, and Dean observed the sensual sway of his denim clad hips. Dean felt himself flush as he looked at the bulge in Castiel's jeans, and quickly averted his eyes to the candyfloss and orange blossom sky.

"So, is your dad on a hunt?"

Dean nodded, "He's hunting down a succubus."

"That's impressive. Those ladies can be quite difficult when threatened."

"Yeah."

They fell into a companionable silence, and Dean tried not to be too obvious as he inhaled Cas' clean, slightly spicy scent. He could feel the heat radiate off of his body, and it made Dean want to press himself against him, to lift his shirt and run his hands over the smooth, taut flesh-

"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything for your birthday, Dean. I wish I'd known it was today, otherwise I would have got you a gift," Castiel said suddenly.

Before Dean could stop himself, he whispered, "I know what I want from you for my birthday, Cas."

Castiel's enigmatic blue gaze met his own clear green, "What's that, Dean?"

Dean licked his lips, and Castiel's gaze dropped down to them as Dean replied, "I want you to kiss me."

Cas' gaze instantly snapped up and he stared at Dean in shock, but something darker, almost unnoticeable flashed in those cerulean depths. Dean could sense the indecision in the older man's body, as if he found Dean's request to be inappropriate, but not repulsive.

"I-" Castiel cleared his throat and continued, his gaze steady. "I don't think that that would be appropriate, Dean."

Dean titled his head slightly and bit his lip, "Why?"

Castiel raised an eyebrow, "I think you know why. I won't take advantage of a respected hunter's beautiful teenage son."

Dean lightly touched Castiel's jean clad knee, "You think I'm beautiful?"

The hunter's gaze shifted, and he stared at the red globe of the sun as the black horizon line gradually swallowed it, "Yes. Yes I think you're beautiful. But I think you knew that already. I think that you know a lot of men and women both think you're beautiful. You've got lips that are made to be kissed, but I won't be the one to kiss them."

Dean frowned, "This won't be my first kiss, Castiel."

He sighed and pushed Dean's rising hand away, "I realised that, but I won't be the perverted adult who exploits the stunning child. I'm sorry, Dean, but I can't give you the birthday present you want."

Dean wanted to reply that he wasn't a child. His childhood had been snuffed out by the death of his mother, and his unending responsibility to look after Sam. Castiel gave him one last pained look, however, and then he rose in a sinuous movement and walked back inside the house, leaving Dean staring after him, his longing still burning within him.