Castiel Novak sat quietly in his seat at the enormous oak table, his brother Lucifer stretched out beside him. Across from the blond sat Michael, and to his left was Gabriel. It was a simple, brotherly lunch in Michael's penthouse. The sun was glaring mercilessly outside, but the A/C offered air cool enough to breathe that wouldn't sting your nose, fry your lungs and boil your sinuses. The soft sound of the radio echoed throughout the apartment. But as usual, things went terribly wrong, because Lucifer had no sense of timing at all.

"You're opening a strip club?!" Michael demanded.

"Co-owning. Co-owning a strip club," Lucifer insisted.

"There's no difference!" came the reply of the eldest.

"Come on, Mike. You're always going on about how you want us to be happy, and follow our dreams," the blond coaxed.

"Pardon me if I'm wrong, but last time I checked, you were gay, and taken," Gabriel reminded him. "What do you need a strip club for? You have Balthazar!"

"Okay, one, I prefer the term, Balthsexual, and two, I thought you were on my side!" Lucifer returned.

"I'm on your side, Lu!" Gabriel ignored the glare and slacked jaw from Michael.

"Look, Mike," Lucifer said slowly. "It's not like I'm gonna be using the joint. What's the problem?"

Gabriel ignored their antics and looked at his youngest brother. "Cassie, eat the veal. You're getting too skinny, kid."

Castiel smiled softly. "I'm glad you did the cooking, Gabriel. Everything is wonderful."

"Aw, stop, you're making me blush," the other teased. "Besides, why have anyone else cook when you've got a pro chef for a brother, right?"

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lu, I just think Dad would want us to spend the ridiculous amount of money he left us on something more useful."

Lucifer snorted. "Well, unless he comes out of hiding and tells that to my face, I'm going through with it," he muttered.

Michael fixed him with his don't-you-start-now glare. "And another thing," he went on, "I don't think Crowley's a particularly trustworthy business partner."

"I know, I'm not an idiot," Lucifer retorted. "But hey, he offered a good deal and I took it."

Michael was about to make a retort, but Gabriel cut in with, "Oh, just shut up and eat the lunch I lovingly spent two hours on!" and gave him a bowl of guacamole. "So, Cassie," Gabriel went on, still watching the other two. "How'd the finals go?"

"Most of my students passed with As," Castiel said, if not a little smugly. He loved teaching early European history, and he loved that his students were so interested in it.

"What periods did you lecture about?" Michael asked with a comforting smile.

"We passed Ancient Greece, the La Tène culture, and the development of the Roman Empire in the first semester," Castiel explained. "Then in the second, it was the Byzantine Empire, the Viking Age and I only started a little of the Middle Ages."

"Okay, okay, no need to get all high and mighty, Professor Novak," Lucifer teased.

The front door of Michael's penthouse opened and smashed to a close, followed by a cheery, "Sorry I'm late!"

In the corner of his eye, Castiel saw Lucifer perk up at the sound.

Balthazar came to a stop in front of the table, arms crossed and a smirk in place. "Well, isn't this a lovely sight? Sitting together and smiling like a proper family, eh?"

Michael rolled his eyes, but a fond smile found its way on his lips. "Take a seat, Balthazar. Gabriel's overdone it with the cooking, as usual," he told him, earning a sharp, "Hey!" from the aforementioned Novak.

Balthazar gave his usual, breathy chuckle before settling in Lucifer's lap and proceeding to kiss the daylights out of him, much to the others' discomfort.

"Balthazar, we're eating," Castiel reminded as he forced the Brit's hand away (it was in the danger of ending up in his plate).

"Sorry, I can't stay long," Balthazar informed them, but he seemed to be talking to Lucifer more than anyone else. "Bloody summer sessions."

"You should have done them in June," Castiel told him sympathetically. "Anna's taking over my classes this month."

"Yes, well, unlike you, I needed a month off before I went back to teaching those sods," Balthazar grumbled, running his fingers through Lucifer's hair.

"Remind me, what made you decide to be a teacher, Balth?" Gabriel asked with a grin worthy of the Cheshire cat.

"I like my title," the other replied with a cheeky grin.

"Do you now, Professor?" Lucifer purred.

"Okay, no. Stop it. I think I'm scarred enough as it is," Michael said wryly.

Before Lucifer could make an undoubtedly inappropriate comment, Castiel's phone rang. All four heads snapped to his direction. It had turned so quiet that he could hear his own fork clank softly as he set it down. Castiel fished his phone out of his pocket, and couldn't deny the stutter his heart made at the name of the caller.

"Excuse me, I'll take this," Castiel murmured. "It's Dean."

Gabriel smirked at Lucifer. "Oh, it's Dean."

Apparently, Castiel's face decided now was the time to imitate a tomato, but he glowered at his brothers. He stood up from the table as Balthazar gave a well-meant catcall.

Although he adored his siblings, Castiel often wished he hadn't told Lucifer about his feelings for Dean. Instead of giving his youngest brother advice, the blond went on to tell Gabriel about it, and the two had been teasing Castiel about it ever since.

It had started when the two met in high school, but then it had only been a harmless crush. But somehow without him noticing, in time it grew into something much more serious. Castiel knew that, on paper, they seemed too different and an unfitting pair, what with Castiel's love for books, history and classical music, and Dean's obsession with food, action films, classical rock and cars, particularly his own '67 Chevy Impala. Castiel was calm and polite, Dean was arrogant and cocky.

But when they were with each other, everything sort of clicked. Their differences complimented each other, in a way. Castiel was never happier than when he was with Dean. The Winchester helped him when his father decided to cut all ties with him and his brothers back when he was a sophomore in high school, and Castiel comforted Dean when Sam decided to move away for college (not that Dean ever voluntarily showed he was upset, but Castiel could read him like an open book). In all honesty, falling in love with him was inevitable.

It was too bad the feelings were one-sided. As far as Dean was concerned, Castiel was his best friend. Nothing more.

Castiel finally answered when he was in the safety of Michael's guest bedroom. "Hello?"

"Cas, I fucked up."

A wave of panic washed over Castiel. Dean got into all sorts of trouble as a homicide detective. Usually, it was nothing worse than a few cuts and bruises, but this time, Dean sounded really sullen. Oh, God, what if he's bleeding out to death somewhere? The hysterical part of his brain screamed.

"Where are you? Are you all right?" he asked.

"What? No, I'm fine. I'm at home," a groan sounded from the other line. "I just- You free to come over? I can't do it over the phone."

"Okay," Castiel said with a nod. "All right, I'll be there in two minutes. I'm at Michael's."

"Awesome." Although Dean sounded anything but 'awesome'.

When he reappeared, everyone hadn't seemed to have moved from their spots, although Balthazar finally got off Lucifer's lap.

"I have to go," Castiel said.

"What, now? Come on, Cassie, this is the first time we're together since Michael got back from New York!" Lucifer whined.

"I know, I'm sorry," the other returned.

"Well, they do say love makes you do crazy things," Balthazar drawled.

Michael stood up and Castiel gladly accepted his hug. "I'll be here all summer, don't worry about it," the former said.

He said goodbye to the others, and with a wry, "Don't torment your students, Balthazar," he was out the door.

As promised, Castiel arrived at Dean's shortly. He was buzzed up immediately, and he wondered what had riled up his friend so much. He knew from his late visits to the station to drop off some dinner for him that Dean had been working on a case for over a week, and that he wasn't sleeping properly. The elevator ride was short, and he barely managed to knock when the door swung open.

In the doorway stood Dean, dressed in a snug-fitting black tee and sweatpants. All of his worries seemed to have gone away for a moment; he grinned widely, and his eyes genuinely crinkled. Cas' heart leapt a little at the thought.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel greeted him calmly, the way he knew would relax the other immediately.

"Cas, hey," Dean returned, licking his lips. Castiel followed the movement very carefully.

As he stepped inside, he was hit by a wave of different smells. There was take-away food, like chinese and thai, and the air was horribly stuffy, as if the window hadn't been opened in days. But above all, there was the comforting smell of Dean. It was the mint shampoo he used, a hint of grease and his natural, comforting scent.

"Want something to drink?" Dean's voice echoed from the kitchen.

"I wouldn't say no to a beer." Castiel first headed to the windows behind the desk, and opened them as wide as they could go. "How are you?"

"Ugh, don't ask. I just wrapped up that James Tan case today,"came the reply.

"You found his brother, then?" Castiel asked, wincing slightly at the memory of what the case had been about.

"Yeah." Dean snorted. "Benny called half an hour ago. Eddie'll be going away forever, from the looks of it."

"No less than he deserves then," Castiel murmured sombrely and he settled on the couch next to Dean.

"Cas."

The Novak looked up at the mention of his name. Dean was smiling softly at him, his lips quirked in a crooked angle. For the first time that day, Castiel was able to look at him properly. His green eyes were warm and inviting, despite the dark circles beneath them. His blond hair was sticking up in a million directions, and his endless freckles were more obvious than ever in the sunlight. Castiel often considered the Winchester's face as the answer to world peace. He wanted to reach out so badly, wanted to run his fingers through his hair, trace the trail of his freckles, feel his stubbled jaw, kiss his full lips.

But instead, he stated, "You sounded unnerved on the phone. What happened?"

Dean puffed through his nose, rubbing his hand over his face. "I, uh, talked to my mom about Sam's wedding."

"That's good." Castiel nodded.

"No, not good," Dean insisted. "Because she tried to set me up with one of her friends again."

Castiel knew he was skating on thin ice now. He chose his words carefully, "Dean, you know she's only worried about you."

"I get that, and I appreciate it, but I just-" Dean groaned. "Shit, I did something really stupid, Cas."

"What happened?" Castiel repeated.

"I put my foot in my mouth is what happened," he grumbled. "I-" He met Castiel's gaze, and suddenly, he turned red to the tip of his ears. "I might have, uh, told my mom that- that I'm taking you as my date."

Cas couldn't get past the words 'you' and 'my date'. He blinked at Dean, unsure whether this was a dream or reality.

Dean pressed on, "So I'll get you a plane ticket, if you wanna come with me. Which you totally don't have to, by the way. I get it if you... don't wanna go." His voice trailed off uncertainly, and for the first time, Castiel saw Dean unsure.

He offered a small smile, the kind he only reserved for Dean. "When is our flight?"