* * * Chapter Three * * *

Castiel didn't know what to expect from Dean Winchester. He seemed mostly calm as he steered the car towards Cas' apartment, humming along to Metallica and pretty much ignoring the shaking angel in the backseat. Cas found the reaction oddly pleasing, seeing as it gave him time to study Dean while he wasn't looking. He'd heard the name Winchester often enough in Heaven; now was his chance to finally meet one.

Dean maneuvered the car to the side of the road and parked it in front of Cas' apartment building, leaning over to turn the radio off. Cas took a deep breath, concentrated, and folded his wings in, only wincing a little this time. He smiled proudly to himself and climbed out of the car, following Dean into the building. They took the elevator to the second floor, where Gabe had rented a room for Cas at the very end of the hall. The place was pretty much abandoned—most of the renters were college students, like Cas and Dean, and most of them had classes.

The apartment was bare, with only a framed picture of Cas and a girl that Dean didn't recognize to mark that anyone even lived there. Dean smiled appreciatively and moved over to the cabinets, apparently already hungry.

Something flashed in the corner of Cas' eye, and he turned to see an angel blade pinning a piece of paper to the wall. A mixture of emotions he couldn't identify roiled in his stomach as he pulled the blade from the wall and the paper fluttered into his open hand. From the kitchen, Dean called, "Do you have any pie?"

Cas shook his head absently, his eyes scanning the note that was written in hastily scribbled Enochian. It was probably from Gabe, even though he hadn't bothered to read it yet. Cas sighed and shoved the note into his pocket, turning just as Dean came up to him.

"Are you going to go back to class?" He asked, offering Cas a charred, probably stale bagel. Cas eyed it distastefully and pushed it back towards Dean, shaking his head. "I don't think…no," he sighed, shaking his wings out of his firm grip on them. "I need more practice."

Dean dumped the bagel into the trash and dropped back on the couch, propping his legs up on the arm of Cas' chair. "Well, okay. I wasn't planning on staying anyways."

Cas eyed him thoughtfully. "Won't your parents get mad at you or something?"

Dean stiffened visibly, a protective shield immediately coming down around him. "My parents won't care," he said flatly, folding his arms over his chest. Cas couldn't help but see the barrage of strong images flooding through his mind, broadcasting to the angel as clear as day.

"You mean your father won't care," he said softly, looking down at his feet. "I know how you feel."

Dean looked surprised, a crack in his shield appearing as he let more emotions through. "Really?"

Cas looked up. "Only a few angels have actually seen God, Dean. He's been gone for so long, the rest of us aren't sure if he even exists. That's why…that's why we need faith. Although more and more of us are loosing it."

Dean laughed shortly and flopped back down on the couch again. "Ha. I'm not even sure if you're real. And now you're lecturing me on faith? Maybe I'm just hallucinating you and there really isn't such a thing as angels. Maybe it's just the four-year-old in me wishing some part of Mom back."

Cas couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt as he said that. He looked at the ground again, wishing Dean could see him as something other then a remnant of his dead mother. "Maybe you just need a little faith, Dean."

"Maybe I do." Dean rolled over so that he was facing Cas instead of the ceiling. "You interest me, Cas. I think I like you."

"You do?" Cas asked, surprised.

Dean laughed at his incredulous expression. "I think…I want to kiss you."

"Are you drunk, Dean?" Cas asked seriously. But part of him secretly hoped he wasn't.

Dean laughed again. "No. It's too early for that." He rolled over to look back at the ceiling. "I dunno, Cas. Whenever I'm close to you, it kind of makes me feel almost…giddy. I can't control it. It's like…I can't describe it."

"Oh…okay." Cas smiled to himself, coming to the realization that he liked Dean, too. It was strange, finding himself crushing on a human—and more importantly, a Winchester—before he'd even been here for a day. But maybe that was how it worked, sometimes. Maybe that ache inside him wasn't only because of his wings. Maybe it was because he'd found something he hadn't had for thousands of years.

"Come here, angel boy," Dean said, his eyes not leaving the ceiling. He raised one of his arms and flopped it towards Cas in a gesture that obviously meant, now.

Cas hesitated, but after a second he cautiously zapped over to the couch, perching on the very edge, like he was about to run. Dean laughed at his edginess and propped himself up on an elbow, using a finger to beckon Cas closer.

Cas bent over Dean, staring directly into his pretty green eyes. He could feel himself blushing, but he couldn't seem to stop. He'd never kissed anyone before, not in his immortal angelic lifetime, and kissing Dean seemed so surreal at the moment he almost thought he was dreaming.

But then Dean did kiss him, and Cas knew that if this was reality, it was better then any other dream he'd ever had. It was like being injected with liquid happiness, although it was painless. Like he'd swallowed a drop of sunshine. Dean smiled against his mouth, and Cas heard himself mumbling, "This is very nice."

It was nice. He'd seen his brothers and sisters kiss people before, but it never seemed very appealing to Cas. But this…was it like this for everyone? Maybe it was just that Dean was a good kisser. Maybe it was just that Cas was more in love then he'd thought he was.

"Have you ever kissed anyone before, Cas?" Dean asked softly, resting his forehead against the angel's. He sounded like Cas felt; breathless, exhilarated, unbearably happy.

"No," Cas answered, pulled into another kiss as Dean cautiously put his arms around him, like he was waiting for permission. In response, Cas kissed him harder, trying to be sure of what he was doing.

Dean was the first to pull away, his head cocked as if he'd heard a noise. "Cas," he said, his voice a low whisper, "Wings. Now."

Cas folded them in obediently, feeling only the slightest twinge of pain as he stood up. Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out a demon knife, which he expertly flipped in his hand as he moved towards the door, still listening.

Now Cas heard it too; a thunk thunk thunk as someone moved down the hallway, pounding on different doors, moving on to the next one as quickly as they had left the first. They were only two doors away from Cas' apartment when they turned their head, staring through the door and directly at the place where Cas' wings would have stretched out if they weren't hidden. Almost immediately the human-like eyes flicked to a solid black.

"Demon," Dean breathed, just as it lunged through the door and crashed down on top of him.