A/N: Look at me, posting in two weeks. *u* I hope to keep up this pace, but between my grandfather passing a few days ago (RIP sweet man, and walk slow so your beautiful wife doesn't feel like she needs to catch up), GISHWHES, moving out this week, marching band, and school, I'm not making any promises, but I'll certainly try.

Big shoutout to my amazing beta, a href=" /users/casass/pseuds/casass"casass./a She's a blessing and a beautiful writer, so be sure to check out her stuff. *u*

Enjoy!

Pain. More than anything else, there was just undeniable pain as Castiel woke up. The sun he saw through the curtains was evidence that he'd at least gotten some solid hours of sleep under his belt, however he still felt absolutely beat. Somehow in his sleep he'd splayed himself out, covering the majority of the queen bed, his sheets crammed between his legs, but only covering one, while the other stretched out on top of it. Normally, he found himself confined to a small portion of the bed, in a position similar to how he'd fallen asleep. He couldn't remember exactly how he'd fallen asleep, but he was sure it wasn't like this. Cas was definitely a sleep cuddler, as had always reigned true with his boyfriend or whatever he was after the events that had unfolded the night before. However last night, he'd merely crammed a pillow under his leg and had another between his arms.

After snuggling his face against the sweet-smelling pillow, he briefly smelled the familiar lavender scent from his own shampoo before the churning became too much.

He clumsily got to his feet and busted ass across the room to the en suite bathroom. It was a bit shambled, like the rest of their place, but it was home. And right now, the porcelain throne was his best friend. Of course the painful churning and need to vomit died down once he was leaned against the cold toilet seat but the second he tried to leave it, the nausea came back full force. Out of exhaustion from a few back and forth trips from his bed to the toilet, he just gave up and crammed himself between the wall and the toilet, head drooping forward with exhaustion.

Between his dozing, somehow his nausea had finally hit its peak point and he released the bile from his stomach.

Cas was tentative as he got to his feet, though he was hurried in cleaning his face in the sink. The nausea was mostly gone at this point, but he didn't want to encourage it to return. The hangover-induced headache was proving to be enough to deal with; he didn't need to spend his Saturday throwing up as well. Nevertheless, his hands were on either side of the sink, arms extended, bracing himself over the sink, his head bent down towards it limply as he contemplated going back to sleep to try and just will the hangover away.

Obviously that wasn't in the cards.

"Rough night?"

He didn't have to turn to know who spoke from the doorway to the bathroom, but he looked nevertheless, curious how the man would look after a night of self-loathing. Cas could only hope that he looked worse than Cas felt, and Lucifer didn't disappoint. His hair was disheveled in every way possible, as though it'd been pulled at repeatedly, and Cas knew all too well what that actually looked like from more favorable encounters. The bags and half-lidded look to him told him Lucifer emhad/em had a self-pity night, and that only made Cas feel slightly better.

"Here," his voice was as tentative as Castiel's movements, though his speedy placement of the painkillers and glass of water on the sink was evidence that he'd been up for awhile and waiting for Cas.

"Thanks." Cas mumbled as he took the two pills in a blatant hope for relief, though the water practically burned as it headed towards his stomach. The emptiness resonated though him; however, not in a good way. He coughed and it rapidly turned into a dry heave as he hacked over the sink, trying to hold the two pills and water down.

He'd been too focused on his own hacking to notice how close Lucifer had gotten. How he had one hand instinctively over Castiel's on the sink, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of Castiel's hand, and Lucifer's other hand had found it's way to Cas' mid back, where it was giving gentle, yet forceful, pats to help him out. The way his body curved over Cas was all too familiar and, had he not been in pain, he would've thought to pull away. But it was nice. There was a four yearlong familiarity to it and it was all too easy to fall back into his arms. Castiel leaned back instinctively, but thought better of it, and sidestepped away from him and stared at him blankly, eyes half lidded in his tired state.

The awkwardness settled in at that, and the silence was unbearable. However, Castiel had nothing to say yet, at the same time had emeverything/em to say. He wanted to scream at him, shout out how he'd betrayed his trust, and cry over the wasted time that hadn't really been wasted, because he loved him and thought that Lucifer had loved him in return, but instead he'd stabbed him in the back just as others had before. No words came out though, because he knew his silence was painful enough for the blonde. The shame within the silence was evident; then again, Cas couldn't really conceal how hurt he was, so he wouldn't be surprised if his face read the pain that panged through every fiber of his being.

"I made some breakfast. Hangover deluxe. Pancakes with a peanut butter spread, a big glass of water, and I put Star Wars in. The oldest one." Cas continued to stare at him, unyielding. "I figure you can eat before yelling at me."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't yell at you right now." Cas' voice was stern, and hoarse from the dry heaving. "I should kick you out. I owe you emnothing/em."

"But I owe you everything. And I am begging here, Cassie." His eyes narrowed further at the nickname. It had been first anointed to him by his brother Gabriel years back, and for some reason Lucifer had picked it up as well. More teasingly than lovingly at first, but now the nickname was taunting him. It tried to lull him into the false sense of security he'd grown so accustomed to. "Please, just sit down and eat. I'll explain whatever you want to know, I'll do whatever you want me to do, including leaving." Cas swallowed thickly. He had a feeling this was another one of his tricks with his charm – he'd feed him and charm him back into his life with peanut butter pancakes and his scruffy hair that Castiel just wanted to reach out and pat down out of habit.

"Fine." More than anything, Castiel knew he needed the food and he needed answers. For now, Lucifer was promising both.

There was something about the carbs and protein and Star Wars that was always soothing to Cas in his hungover state. The carbs and protein had logical explanations, as did the water, but the Star Wars was just a personal preference. Beyond horror movies, his nerdy obsessions were the best kind of comfort Cas could have. In lieu of a social life in college, he'd holed up in his room studying or watching BBC television shows, or Star Trek and the like. Some past almost-loves had called it endearing or cute, but Lucifer had always called him for what he was, a nerd. Sure, he indulged him from time to time, but Cas had noticed the stack of VHS sitting near the player and recognized all of his favorites.

Well, this was certainly a start.

Cas had cuddled up on the couch under his favorite blanket while he ate, and his head lolled tiredly as he finished, watching the scenes unfold on the television. He hardly noticed Lucifer pick up the plate from his nap, but he certainly noticed when Lucifer took a seat on the ottoman, and he blocked the view of the television. Annoyed, Cas paused the movie and looked at the man before him, focusing on his fumbling hands rather than his face.

"So…"

"So." Cas blankly recalled the precision with which Dean had replied to him the night before (albeit, he remembered it only vaguely), and decided to channel that sort of response in dealing with Lucifer this morning. He was still contemplating what to do, but he didn't have time for him to beat around the bush.

"I'm not going to say it was an accident, because we both know that there's really no accidents." Cas looked at the unmoving characters on the screen, refusing to acknowledge Lucifer while he spoke. "Yes, I was drinking, and that didn't help, but I regretted it immediately, Cas –"

"Don't call me that." Cas was surprised at his own snap, but the nickname wasn't one he was used to hearing. And after the pleasantly good night he'd had at the bar, he didn't want the sweet sounding nickname to be soiled by the tension now in their apartment. "Please, don't call me that, Luke." Lucifer's expression sobered at the more casual and platonic of Castiel's nicknames for him.

"Call me whatever you want, Castiel. I simply beg that you listen. Please." Castiel merely paused. It took him awhile before he finally broke eye contact with Lucifer and focused back at the unmoving figures on the television, nodding faintly. He heard Lucifer sigh and saw him scoot the ottoman and himself slightly closer, though to the side, so Castiel could continue with his distraction. Cas was respectful enough to not start the movie back up, however, he couldn't look at him all the same.

"It's not something to forgive, I know that. I know how I hurt you and I feel it too. I'm just concerned that things haven't been going all that well for us." Cas frowned though he said nothing. "All you do is prep for your classes, and you just had to take on emmore/em this year. And we go out and you just come back home. You just left without a word."

"Because you were getting plastered, and I needed sleep. I know it's okay for you to stay up until god knows when and still go to work hungover as long as you win your case and keep doing your job, but I can't. And it's hard to watch you hanging over some other guy –"

"That means nothing. You know that." Cas snapped his head at Lucifer and raised a brow as if to say "really?", but he couldn't verbalize that without yelling it. "All I can think about is you, I love you, but I've found it hard to believe lately that you return the feeling –"

"So you're pinning this all on me?" Castiel's legs pulled up under him as he sat up straight, about to really pick a fight with the man before him, though relaxing as he saw Lucifer's head give a nervous shake.

"Of course not, sweetheart …" The term of endearment panged more than it should of. Cas knew he was already on the road to forgiveness, even though he didn't want to. But he had an unyielding faith in this man for whatever reason. "This is my fault entirely. But if you give me another chance, I swear to you, it'll never happen again. I was a fool. I forgot that I'm hopelessly in love with a nerdy professor who loves his job maybe a little too much." His hand outstretched to Cas, landing on his cheek, causing Cas to meet his eyes again. "Honest to God and Jesus and Hail Mary's or whatever." Cas cracked the faintest of smiles at that. "I was scared to admit that I thought there was problems, but I swear, this was a complete mistake. I'm only human, Castiel."

Castiel was staring in his eyes when his own expression deadpanned. The blue of his eyes weren't quite right. Neither was the hair color, though the short scruff and lighter highlights of it were right, as he recalled the night before. Flashes shot before his eyes as he remembered his only sobering moment of the night before, when he'd carelessly dug through Dean's pockets and put his phone number in it, he'd embegged/em him to call him tomorrow, and to not make him go inside, and then there was the kicker. He'd emkissed/em Dean. Now Cas couldn't quite be sure if Dean had returned the kiss or had stood there stunned through the whole thing, but he did know that Dean had pushed him away in the end. Everything else was foggy, but that was abundantly clear.

"Cassie?" Lucifer's voice brought him out of his stupor, and Cas blinked rapidly, trying to focus in on Lucifer's features and the thumb absently running on his cheek.

"Alright." Cas said suddenly, nodding his head. Lucifer was a bit taken aback, as if he'd expected Cas to kick him out, and hell, Cas had expected he would kick him out. But how hypocritical would that be? At the slightest hint of betrayal by his partner he'd run out to drink and ended up kissing a guy who was a stranger for all intensive purposes. Sure, Cas was wasted out of his mind, but he knew what he was doing. He'd wanted to kiss Dean, but in his now sobered state, he knew that much was a mistake. He didn't even know if Dean was interested in him like that, and now he certainly didn't want to know, because he decided then that in exchange for keeping this to himself, he could handle the pain of what Lucifer had done.

"Really?" Cas couldn't even regret the decision when he saw the face before him light up as he realized he was forgiven. Cas smiled and tilted his head into the hand on his cheek and nodded again.

Before he even really got a chance to enjoy the sweet touch and calmness of the moment, Lucifer practically pounced on him, leaning in and engulfing his mouth in his own. Cas was stunned for a moment, and after pushing Dean out of his mind, he returned the kiss, putting his arms over Lucifer's shoulders before he leaned the both of them back on the couch, just kissing.

Cas could feel Luce smiling in the kiss, and it made him really feel as though he'd made the right decision. His stomach twisted with butterflies as Lucifer pressed down over him, continually crashing their lips together.

"Do you want breakfast or not, jerk?" Sam was speaking purposefully and painfully loud because he knew just what kind of condition Dean would be waking up to.

Dean rolled his head to look at his alarm clock and groaned. It was only nine in the morning. "Son of a bitch…" He murmured before burying his face back into his pillow.

"Good morning to you, too." Sam's smirk was practically audible in his greeting. "I've got pancakes in the works if you get up in the next five minutes. No way I'm serving you breakfast in bed, princess." He laughed faintly, though Dean found it hard to take his words too seriously when he was so quiet in closing the door.

Dean rolled over almost immediately after the door closed, a small groan slipping past his lips as he did so. More than the hangover, he was just exhausted. He had certainly had worse hangovers in his life, and this one paled in comparison to most. Sam had been telling Dean for months now that he was just drinking so much to become immune to hangovers, and Dean was starting to believe him. Nevertheless, he enjoyed having the freedom to drink like a desperate teenager and wake up just slightly off kilter. And his brother had just enough sympathy to cook him breakfast.

After fighting with his sheets for a minute, Dean was able to safely climb out of bed. They'd been wound tightly around him somehow, and as a result were now completely pulled out and crumpled on the bed. With a huff, Dean straightened them out a bit before heading to the kitchen. He didn't like to leave his room in such a state of disarray, but he also recognized how little he cared in moments like these.

"You'd make a good housewife, Sammy." Dean commented as he passed the couch that was stacked with neatly folded blankets. The trash Dean had glimpsed from the night before was long gone and he never would have guessed that anyone had been over if he hadn't seen the small female asleep on his brother the night before.

"I could say the same for you, jerk."

"Bitch." Dean wandered into the kitchen with a bright smirk directed at his brother, but it drooped when he noticed the pretty female was still at their apartment. She kind of gave him a bemused sort of look and she extended her hand out to him.

"I'm Madison. Sam's friend." He took her hand in a quick shake and smiled lightly back at her.

"Dean. The brother." He was sure Sam had mentioned him – if not, there were a few pictures of them around the apartment. All of the pictures were within the last few months too so, unless she'd not noticed the half a dozen frames or Sam had neglected to mention him, he figured she already knew.

Dean suddenly took note of his half-nakedness and slipped past the female towards the laundry, where he grabbed a clean shirt from the dryer. As he pulled a worn gray Henley over his head, he heard Sam call out to him. "How many do you want?"

"Whatever." Dean called back. He wasn't picky when it came to food, especially when he didn't have to make it. He walked back out to the kitchen to find Sam suppressing a smirk as he held out a plate to him. Dean took the plate with a frown. "Really?" On the plate was one small glob of a pancake. Sam snickered, amused, before dropping a giant pancake on top of it. "That's more like it, smartass…" He spread butter onto the plate-sized pancake then poured syrup over it before digging in, hardly caring for manners despite the fact that Sam's very pretty em"friend"/em was seated next to him at the small table. And Sam gave Dean his signature bitch face when he brought pancakes over for Madeline, or whatever her name was. Dean was a bit too groggy to care at this point.

Sam settled down shortly before Dean finished up. While he was absently chatting about some teacher they called Zach, Dean used his fork to stab a pancake on Sam's plate and lift it over to his own. The brunette female snickered slightly before Sam turned to Dean and shrugged. "I emknew/em you'd do that – and close your mouth for crying out loud." Dean stuck out his tongue in response.

"Well aren't you a smarty pants." While in the midst of finishing his stolen pancake, Dean got up and unceremoniously scarfed the rest of it down before setting his plate in the sink. "You know, I am the older brother, Sammy. Not you." He dug through the fridge until he found a bottle of water that he begrudgingly opened, with the sole intent on downing it with as many Tylenol as he knew he could take. He had places to go and people to see, and the annoying hangover digging at the back of his skull was not welcomed.

"You say that, and then you're the one coming in after three in the morning after doing God knows what." Sam's voice came off as amused, despite the fact that his expression showed blatant disapproval. "Where were you anyways?" Dean noted the hint of concern in his voice, so he chose to humor him.

"Met someone at a bar and got to talking." Flashes of bright blue reminded him of the night before. He pulled out his phone and dug through the contacts with a small smile when he noticed Cas' number in there. Sure, he'd spelled his name "Castiewl", but Dean got the point.

"And?" His eyes rose from the phone and he noticed both Sam and his friend staring at him. Sam was borderline bitch-facing him, but the girl was interested and amused, despite the fact that Sam had basically begun to ignore her while he probed at Dean.

"And I helped them get home and then came home myself. Nothing special."

"Really?"

"Really, Sammy."

"Then why are you looking at your phone like that?" Dean snapped back to reality at that and stared at Sam who was sporting his "oh really now?" face that Dean had grown all together too used to over the years. "What's her name?"

Dean's ears started to heat up at that. He could feel the heat as it rose up the back of his neck and wrapped around his ears, but it didn't dare go further. Dean had his fair share of indiscriminate fucks, of course, but the simple fact was that he hadn't emdone/em anything with Cas.

Ignoring the kiss, of course.

Upon remembering the kiss, the blush spread a little further, and he turned away, downing the rest of his water bottle to cool off as best he could. He'd nearly forgotten that but how could he? Cas had shoved him against a rough brick wall and pressed those perfect lips against his, and that wasn't something he was about to forget.

"Aw, c'mon Dean." The girl cooed from the other side of the table, her fingers wrapped around a coffee mug. Sam's smirk was growing and he looked like he was about to probe further before Dean just gave in.

"Cas." The redness at his ears flared upon him saying the name out loud. It wasn't as if Dean had never made out with a guy before, but he wasn't as experienced in that department, and he sure as hell wasn't comfortable with talking to Sam about it. Sam knew Dean was an equal opportunist, but he hardly paid much attention to Dean's sexual escapades.

"That's a cute nickname. Short for Cassandra or something?" The female piqued back up with a smile, and Dean gave a half-shrug, half-nod sort of gesture in response. Hey, if they wanted to think Cas was a girl, why not let them? After all, Cas had a girlfriend and Dean was hardly looking for something serious. It was unlikely that he would ever talk about Cas again.

"So are you going to say anything else or do I just need to call her myself?" Dean quickly snapped his phone shut at Sam's quip and shot him a quick glare, to which Sam merely laughed.

"How about you talk to your friend instead of badgering me over nothing? Or should I ask what the two of you were doing on emmy/em couch last night?" Dean questioned with a quirk of his eyebrow. Sam flushed up, and the girl giggled.

"Don't worry, even if I offered, I don't think Sam would've gone for it. It's Madison, by the way." Dean smirked lightly, though he felt a little bad since he had forgotten her name; however, he didn't care for too long. Instead, he focused on Sam, who was flushing brightly in embarrassment.

"Oh I know, virginal Sammy. Don't know where he got that from, honestly."

"Shut the hell up!" Sam snapped quickly at Dean and Dean just chuckled in response, at which Madison also joined in on. Sam was about to get up and walk out, but before he got the chance, Dean pushed down on his shoulders to keep him there.

"Stay and chat, I'll get out of your hair little brother." He ruffled Sam's hair lovingly, but Sam flattened it down before Dean had even left the room. On his way out, he heard Madison.

"I think it's endearing, really. Seriously Sam, don't be embarrassed…"

Dean had been keeping to himself for a couple hours before reemerging to find the apartment quiet. "Sammy?" he called out warily, a laundry basket full of clothes shoved under his arm at his side as he walked past the living room. Sam waved at him with a pencil rather than his actual hand. Dean stared at his seemingly uncomfortable position on the floor, books strewn about, covered in stray papers, with Sam and his laptop in the center of the fold.

"Seriously Sam? You've been offered sex and you turn it down for homework?" Sam scoffed slightly, but didn't respond initially, his fingers busy typing away at the bulky laptop on the coffee table. Dean chuckled as he went off to start a load of laundry, tossing all of their colored clothes together before he even heard Sam calling back to him.

"Sex isn't emeverything/em, you know." Dean chortled and shut the washer before going back into the living room.

"Sounds like something a virgin would say." Dean grinned as he saw Sam's ears flare red before he snapped back to his homework. Dean watched as he roughly shoved his glasses up his nose and pulled a book up onto his lap. "Chill out, I'm just messing with you." He clapped Sam on the shoulder and he grunted in response.

"I know."

At that, Dean turned on the television and they fell into a comfortable silence. It wasn't long though before Dean had his phone pulled out and he was running his finger tentatively over the call button as he looked at Cas' contact in his phone.

"Just call her already." Dean snapped his eyes to Sam who was leaning his head back against the couch while staring between Dean and his phone.

"I don't know about that, Sammy." Dean said cautiously, sighing and running his thumb over the phone absently before flipping it closed.

"Why not? It's not like you to just let a girl get away." Sam laughed before shuffling his books around so he could cross his legs and turn slightly towards Dean. "Well? Are you gonna tell me about her or not?" Dean chuckled and his head fell back limply against the pillow behind him. "Did she blow you off?"

"Well, Sammy, I wouldn't let a simple blow leave me all dewy-eyed." Dean smirked wildly and he peeked down at his brother, who was giving him a bitch face again.

"You know that's not what I meant." Dean chuckled at that. "Jesus Christ Dean, just tell me about her."

"Cas is seeing someone. So, it's a moot point." Sam fell quiet at that.

"Then why'd you get her number?" Sam had a right to question that, since Dean was well aware that he normally only got a number if it lead to something more than just a chat.

"Cas kind of just took my phone and put it in…" Dean's thumb ran over the screen on the phone a little absently. "Cas was also pretty drunk, so, I don't think it was intentional." Sam stared up at the ceiling, his face twisted in thought before he pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Dean watched him warily, because he knew these as telltale signs that Sam was about to give Dean a full-on analysis of the situation.

"Well you always say that when someone's drunk, it's just an extension of their personality. That's why people spill their dirty secrets when they're drunk. So, maybe she's not happy with the relationship but isn't about to cheat or anything, so…" He screwed up his face again and Dean just smiled at him. "Either way, you might as well give Cas a call. She gave you her number, and you're interested. I mean, at this point, you're at a no. It doesn't get any worse than that." Dean looked at him dumbfounded for a moment and Sam just shrugged.

"Geez Sammy, when did ya get so insightful?" Sam shrugged and Dean reached forward to ruffle his hair again with a soft smile.

"And when did you become so sappy?" At his comment, Dean's smile dropped and he gave a short tug of Sam's hair. Sam groaned in response and Dean's smile found its way back, albeit minimally.

"Just get your homework done."

Dean got up and wandered around the house, shucking on his jacket and boots before grabbing his keys.

"Where are you going? Aren't you going to call Cas?" Sam piped up, staring at Dean as he headed towards the door.

"I'm gonna call Cas." Dean smiled lightly at his brother and Sam just shrugged him off as he turned the doorknob and headed out the door.

"Luke, don't look so smug, shit still has to hit the fan." Cas grumbled lightly to himself. He'd scrunched himself up on the loveseat, his head on the seat against one of the chair's arms, and the curve of his backside hitting against the other. Like tentacles, his limbs splayed over the couch and his head lulled over to look at his lap blankly, rather than the movie. He'd seen the Star Wars movies too many times to count or care, and couldn't be bothered to watch it at this point.

He pulled the long sleeves of Lucifer's button-up over his hands and covered his mouth with a sigh.

"emLuke, I am your father./em" Cas wheezed out, but it didn't have the effect it normally did. Usually Lucifer was there with him, curled up on the too-small couch, mocking Vadar's voice to a tee, and Cas paled in comparison. The reminder just caused him to rub his temples and sigh.

Lucifer had coerced him into make-up sex (however it didn't take all that much coercion on his part, Cas just liked to think of it that way while he was pouting), then after less than ample cuddling time, Lucifer had announced that he needed to go back to the office for some homicide case. Hearing the word "homicide" come out of his mouth didn't even break the mood for Castiel. However Lucifer yanking out from under his arms, causing Cas to teeter off the bed and roll off entirely, did.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I would've told you yesterday, but…" His voice trailed off and that was where Cas had stopped paying attention. He'd stayed on the floor until Lucifer left and even long after. Only worming around when his back started to ache, he pulled on a pair of his own boxer-briefs and then Lucifer's discarded shirt. Now, he wasn't all that much smaller than his boyfriend, especially not in height, but he was small enough for the shirt to be baggy on his frame, the unrolled sleeves drooping far past his hands.

After straightening up the bed, he'd made his way out to the couch and that was where he had been since.

Cas was in the midst of stretching out his back to see how far up he could stretch his legs, and back, into the air before they fell over him or something popped uncomfortably when his phone buzzed angrily with "More Than A Feeling" rumbling out of it shortly after. His legs collapsed over his head and the arm of the chair in his surprise, since it wasn't often that he got phone calls.

He pushed up with his arms, effectively tumbling over the arm of the couch and onto the floor before crawling over to the coffee table and grabbing his phone. The number wasn't one he recognized, and he half-considered letting it go to voicemail before he felt his stomach drop uncomfortably. He vaguely recalled searching Dean's pockets for his phone, but couldn't quite recall if he'd actually given him his number.

"Hello?" He answered the phone in the end, albeit nervously. Cas hadn't meant to kiss him, especially under such circumstances and he didn't want Dean to have the wrong impression. However, it seemed like there was really only one impression he could give after last night.

The reply on the phone was delayed, as if the caller hadn't expected Castiel to answer or as if they were thinking of something to say.

"Well, I'm calling."

He recognized the voice as Dean's right off the bat. Nervousness tickled every inch of his body as he paused. Was this wrong? He couldn't really be sure. It wasn't like he was talking to Dean with the intention of cheating on Lucifer. Sure, he was attracted to Dean, but that didn't mean he was going to act on it.

Well, at least he wasn't going to act on it again.

"Dean." His tone was a bit more desperate than he'd hoped for. "So it seems." He swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, Cas." There was an airy laugh over the line and another pause. "This emis/em Cas, right?" At that, Cas couldn't help but snicker a little.

"Yeah, it is."

"Thank God, because that whole 'I'm calling' thing would have just been awkward." Cas chewed on his bottom lip and chuckled with Dean over the line until silence fell again. "You alright? I mean, you must've had one hell of a hangover this morning." Cas shrugged before shaking his head as he reminded himself that this was a phone call. His nervous edge hadn't gone away just yet.

"Yeah, I did. I'm better now, though." Another silence followed.

"And … emyou're/em alright?" His tone made Castiel frown, because he knew Dean was asking about Lucifer and that situation. Sure, he was happy things were working out, but he was still a little bitter about Lucifer heading out like that.

"Yeah. We talked it over this morning."

"Well, that's good."

Wow, that conversation had gone south altogether too quickly. Castiel gave a forced laugh at an attempt to change the flow.

"You sound skeptical."

"Well, once a cheater, always a cheater in my book. But that's just me." Cas frowned at his response.

"Luce isn't going to do it again." His tone was firmer than he expected, but he was serious. He trusted Lucifer that much to give him a second chance.

"Alright Cas, sorry." He heard the impatient click of Dean's tongue over the phone and annoyance evaporated the rest of his nervous edge.

"What do you want, Dean?"

"Well, a couple of things." There was an airy laugh over the line. "You made me promise to call you, so that's what I'm doing. But I also wanted to chat."

"About?" Cas' eyebrows rose curiously. He stared blankly at the rolling credits on the television while he waited for a response from Dean.

"Honestly, I don't care." Cas' brow crinkled in confusion at that. He hated technology for this reason alone. It was so hard to read people over the phone like this. Of course everyone else had their cell phones glued to their ears, but he still remembered growing up without them and he'd always hated landlines. Making a phone portable didn't make it any better for him. "I mean, not that I emdon't care/em about talking to you, it's just, I don't care what we talk about." His nervous laugh echoed over the line again. "I just wanted to talk to you, see how you were doing…" His voice trailed off and Cas smiled a bit. It was cute. And he only thought of it as cute in the most platonic way possible, of course.

"I'm good, Dean. Really." Cas smiled into the phone. "And you?"

"Me? I'm fine."

"You drank a lot last night, too."

"Yeah, but I don't think I have the pleasure of getting hungover anymore. And my baby brother was kind enough to wake me up bright and early, so I don't have the option anyways." Castiel blinked quickly for a moment as he listened to Dean speak, recognizing the way Dean paced himself and paused to breathe throughout his rushed speech.

"Are you walking?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"You talk fast and you're compensating by pausing to breathe.."

"You noticed that?" Dean sounded thoroughly bemused over the line but, to Castiel, noticing little things was almost second nature now.

"Why are you out walking and talking to me?" Castiel questioned back, confused yet amused by their whole conversation.

"Well, uh…" Dean paused and Castiel could tell he'd stopped walking. "I don't know. I just went for a walk and I thought about last night and found your number in my phone and gave you a call. Though, quick question… There's not a 'w' in your name, right?"

"No. Why would there be?" All this talk about going out for a walk lured Cas off the floor. He made his way to the bedroom, searching for a pair of pants so he could go check the mail and take out the trash like a good tenant.

"Well, it was just the way you spelled your name in my phone. Just Cas would have been easier." His chuckle over the line was almost taunting to Castiel. He scoffed as he pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder while he used both hands to shimmy into his jeans, only responding once he was working on zipping up.

"Hey, assbutt, I was drunk." Dean sputtered and laughed over the line.

"emAssbutt?/em Wow. You've got quite the affinity for insults, huh?"

Cas smiled back, but only slightly. He'd admit that wasn't his best one. "Whatever, Dean." He reached into his and Lucifer's closet for a belt, pulling it through the loops and scrunched up his sleeves over his elbows before grabbing the phone again with one hand. "Where are you walking?" The question came out before Cas even had a chance to stop himself. He felt his cheeks heat up a little as he walked towards the front door.

He twisted the door handle just as Dean was responding, "Well, I'm out by the school. It's completely deserted on the weekend. I like it better that way."

Something was wrong about how he said that, not like he'd lied or anything, but in the way it sounded. As he swung the door in and stepped outside, he figured out why.

There he was, across the street, his back to Castiel as he spoke again into the phone. "Somehow through all that moving around when I was younger, we only kept to smaller towns. I guess I never grew out of that…"

"Dean?" At this point, Cas had dropped his phone to his side and gone down the steps. Dean turned rather suddenly, still holding the phone to his ear. A blush slowly crept across his face as he looked at Cas.

In response to the silence, Cas pulled his phone from his face and deliberately ended the call, before quirking a brow in question at Dean as he put his phone in his pocket and crossed his arms.

"Well, this is … awkward." Dean's nervous chuckle from across the street momentarily filled the silence, albeit barely. A car rolled down the street between the two and Cas took that moment to turn away and walk the half block towards the apartment's set of mailboxes.

"Hey, Cas, wait!" Dean quickened his pace on the other side of the street to catch up with him.

Cas could only ignore him until he stopped at the mailbox, twisting the combination in his to get the mail within. He heard Dean running across the street long before Dean spoke. "Hold up, Cas."

Dean's hand landed on Cas shoulder, and Cas rolled his shoulder away from it, walking back towards his place, pointing his mail at Dean as he spoke. "Really? You want me to stop and talk to the creepy guy outside my house?" Cas gave a half-assed laugh and rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I'm not emcreepy/em, alright?" Cas stopped and Dean nearly ran into him at the suddenness of it. He mumbled a "sorry" in apology to Cas, who was staring him down quizzically. He wasn't mad by any means, and how could he be? Dean had taken care of him last night. Castiel just didn't quite know how to feel about having the green-eyed student from his Religious Studies lecture standing outside his place.

"Look, I have to work this afternoon, so I figured I'd head out and get some lunch, and I just wanted to make sure you're alright." Dean's hands were held up in front of him as he was on the defensive. "You were completely wasted last night and begging me to stay, after all." Cas flushed a little and Dean smiled in response.

"That doesn't mean you can just show up."

"I wasn't going to come up or anything unless you wanted me to. I was just trying to be a good friend, Cas." Cas tensed a little in response. "Not that we're friends or anything, I was just concerned, alright?" He noticed the frown line forming between Dean's eyebrows and the sincerity in his voice, but also noticed the slight twinge of annoyance.

"I'm sorry, but it was kind of creepy." Dean chuckled darkly and shrugged in response. "But thanks." Cas gave him a thin-lipped smile and a nod. At that, Dean's tension broke and he beamed back at Cas, that wild and bright smile he'd seen back in the campus coffee shop. It was infectious.

"I didn't mean to be creepy, I really emwas/em heading towards this part of town."

"Sure you were." Cas started to walk again, but this time it was slower, intentionally letting Dean keep up with him.

"Really, I was." His toothy grin was still there and Cas just gave him a sort of incredulous look. "You don't believe me."

"Not really."

"Then come with me." Cas noticed a faint tinge of red gracing Dean's face, though didn't question it. It was an odd request, so he wasn't sure if he could blame Dean.

"What?" His response came out a little choked. Was Dean suggesting…?

"I mean, grab lunch with me. If you're not doing anything else." He shrugged a bit, hands digging deep in his pockets a little awkwardly. "I wasn't just pitying the intensely sad, broken up drunk who latched onto me at the bar last night." He smiled at Cas again and Cas swore he could practically feel the heat radiating from it.

"I'm sorry." Cas frowned slightly. "I didn't mean to drunkenly latch onto you or –"

"I was just being sarcastic, Cas. I don't mind. Really. I had fun." He still had that sort of happy look about him as he teetered back and forth on his feet. "So, grab some pizza with me. You can tell me what happened after I left." Cas gave him a wary, confused look. "Or not, whatever works." He still had that brilliant smile.

"Alright." Dean's ears perked up at Cas' response, and it was probably easily one of the cutest things Cas had ever seen. "I owe you, anyways, for dealing with me last night." He shrugged, and Dean just laughed a little.

"You sure do, Casti-ewl." Cas quirked a brow at Dean as he started to walk off, pausing only momentarily before following after him, mail still in hand.

"Excuse me?" He questioned when he caught up with Dean, who had stopped just before turning the corner. "What did you call me?" Dean was staring at his phone with a wild sort of smirk that he held until Cas grabbed his wrist, turning it so he could see the phone and there, plastered to the screen as evidence of last night's drunken escapades was his number and what appeared to be his name. He flushed lightly as he noticed the small spelling error. The subsequent kiss from the night before flashed through his mind and he nervously released Dean's wrist. Dean was slow to retract and he had an expression Cas couldn't quite read, however it was quickly replaced with a thin-lipped smile.

"I know, I know, you were drunk. It just made me laugh when I saw it this morning." After he spoke, he gestured down the street with his hand to a nearby parking lot that was empty besides one black car. Castiel had to fight his jaw from falling open. It was absolutely emstunning/em. He would proudly admit that he had a thing for classic cars.

"Is that emyours/em?" Dean beamed at Cas' incredulous expression, and nodded.

"Yeah, that's my baby." His grin was all teeth and Cas wanted to smile in return, but his expression blanked when he made a realization.

"Wait, I though you walked out here?" Cas raised a curious eyebrow and he saw the tips of Dean's ears go red.

"Well, I walked from my car, if that counts for anything…" His laughter was strained and he'd adverted his eyes from Cas. "I don't live close enough to just walk all the way over here. But you seemed to be in pretty rough shape last night and I wanted to be here if you needed somebody, you know?" The redness had begun to creep up his neck too at this point, and it just made Cas smile.

"Well, thanks for that." Although he was still slightly turned from Cas, Dean's eyes were now glued to him and a smile slowly snuck back onto his face.

"I'll bring her around while you go get some shoes on." He nodded his head towards the ground and Castiel looked down towards his feet. Now it was his turn to get embarrassed. He hadn't really planned on going anywhere, so he didn't think to slip on any shoes.

He nearly jumped when Dean clapped him on the shoulder. Cas' head popped back up to look at Dean, who still held that wild, impossible smile.

"Alright?" Cas smiled back, with that kind of smile that he felt all the way up to his eyes and back down to his toes. He nodded to Dean.

"Alright."