CHAPTER 2

23 hours

Sam's sleeping through the day. You would think the bunker would be insanely quiet. But, no. Sam's snoring echoes throughout the bunker. If you closed your eyes, your first thought would be 'why am I in some neat, picket fence neighbourhood?' because all you hear is: HEeee wHAOoo WHEeeo BREOooa GRUGheu. Sounds like a frickin' tractor lawnmower.

"OH MY GOD SHUT THE HELL UP!" Dean calls in annoyance. Once Sam's asleep, there's barely anything that can wake him. So it don't matter if Dean yells as loud as he can. Which barely compares to the deafening noise of Sam's nasal problems or whatever. Because sure enough: WHBeoou HWEeeea HGUuu. The torture persists.

"What is it? What happened? Is someone here? Are you okay, Dean?" Cas sweeps in from the kitchen, concern etching his face. When he sees Dean safe in front of the fireplace reading the new issue of 'Busty Asian Beauties' his features calm.

"I'm fine Cas. I just... God how are you not contemplating killing Sammy in his sleep? Are you— can you just... tune it out, or something?" Dean asks, sitting up in his chair and putting his dirty magazine down.

"What are you talking about?" Cas asks sitting down on the loveseat across from Dean.

"Sam's snoring, do you not hear it?"

"I can hear it, it just doesn't bother me. It bother's you? Is that what you were yelling about?"

"Yeah it's what I was yelling about, Cas. God, he is so loud I can barely stand it."

"At least he's resting. If he does get worse, he'll be stronger to fight to get better than if he exerts his power beforehand." Cas says, leaning forward in his seat. Cas considers moving beside Dean on the couch. He decides against it. Dean will just tell him to move back. After losing his wings.. he can't seem to find a reason to keep going on. Except Dean. Dean rejecting him, Cas doesn't even want to think about what he'll do, think, say afterwards. Cas is so engulfed in thinking about Dean, and what he'd do, say to him if he told Dean what he truly feels about him is deeper than just family, just friends.

Cas doesn't even notice that Dean is staring at his chapped lips and licking his own as he nods, partially listening to what Cas said.

"Hey, Cas," Dean's voice pulls Cas out of his thoughts. Dean gets up from the couch and folds up his magazine.

"Dean, where are you going?" Cas asks, disappointment etching his features as Dean gets up to leave.

"To sleep, if I can. And after that.. we're going to look for a case, and if Sam's still feeling good tomorrow, we can all go." Dean rubs his eyes with his fists, tired and slightly disoriented. "Sound good?"

"Yes, Dean." Cas could've just said 'Yes'. He didn't want to though. He liked saying Deans name, it felt good when he did, right. Dean liked it when Cas said his name, too. He liked hearing it in Cas' voice, watching the way his lips moved as he said it. He couldn't help but want to move forwards instead of backwards, towards Cas. Closer.

No, no. NO. Stop it. Stop it. Cas is your friend. Cas is your best friend. You're practically family. Just walk away, Dean. Avoid his blue, beautiful eyes, turn around, and walk away. Dean thinks. This is getting out of hand.

Dean awkwardly claps his hands together, still holding his magazine, slowly backing away.

"Ok. I'm leaving now. Goodnight— I-I mean, um, i'm going to nap now.. so, um, bye..."

Dean stumbles over his feet and curses under his breath, grumbling.

Cas stays in the loveseat, watching Dean finally leave, and contemplates what he should do next.

He decides to finally finish the Camelot book he was reading. Maybe now, with both Winchester's asleep, he can actually finish the book. Or is that too much to assume? Probably is.

22 Hours

"Nope. Nope. Nope. NOT HAPPENING!" Dean bursts out of his room with a blue and white striped towel in his arms.

Cas walks out of his own room, head leaning to one side, surprise and annoyance written across his forehead.

"What happened Dean? What's not happening?" Cas asks just before they almost collide. Dean stops just before, but Castiel still puts his hands in front of him for protection. Which doesn't help in the case of collision, but he does end up with his hands firmly planted on his hunter's chest. They both look at Cas' hands. He should probably take his hands off. Around now. Like, right now. But he can't seem to. And he doesn't have to, because Dean takes a step back and Cas' hands fall back to his sides.

They both blush, and look away from each other so they don't see each other's blushes. Both of them embarrassed, but unaware of the other's embarrassment. Dean clears his throat and looks up at Castiel.

"I can't sleep. That's what's not happening. You wanna know what's also not happening?" This was rhetorical, obviously, but Cas is... Well, Cas is Cas.

"The apocalypse isn't happening. You and sam stopped tha—"

"WORLD PEACE! World peace isn't happening, Cas, you wanna know why? Because the world heard Sam snoring after saving the world, and became so insane it went homicidal! Am I not right?"

"Actually you are not right. That's not why we don't have World Peace, we don't have—"

"Ok, Cas, I have got to teach you what rhetorical means." Cas' face is blank and Dean sighs.

"I'm going to shower, don't get into trouble, or burn the bunker down or anything." Dean moves past Cas in the hallway and swings the towel over his shoulder. Cas turns around and finds his eyes locked on Dean's ass. His eyes only move away when Dean turns the corner towards the bathroom. Cas lets out a deep breath, one he didn't know he was holding 'till he let it out.

Oh Father, what is this man doing to me? Cas wonders as he walks back into his room, imagining Dean's ass in ways that make him feel so dirty he blushes to himself.

He sits on his bed and hears the sound of water running. Just barely, but Sam's snoring has quieted a small bit, so it's still audible. He closes his eyes and groans quietly to himself, just wishing he could stop thinking about the hot naked hunter just a few rooms away.