"I'm gonna kiss you like the sun browns you."

[Alt-J - Every Other Freckle]

It was morning when Castiel opened his eyes. His eyes felt dry, but other than that, he was fine. What had awoken him was Dean's soft voice as he spoke on his cell phone. Dean remained in the same position Castiel saw him the previous night, sitting up against the headboard, and Castiel still rested his head on Dean's lap, hugging his legs. Castiel didn't move or speak, and he shut his eyes again when he felt Dean's fingers combing his hair.

"I'm fine, Sammy," Dean muttered. "No, I promise I'm still drinking that holy water shit, and it still burns the fuck out of me." He paused. "It's not what you're thinking. Cas and I are just friends. I wouldn't use him like that. He's a good guy."

Castiel breathed quietly, chewing on his bottom lip. There he went again, eavesdropping on a conversation. Except this time, he was the topic.

"I doubt I'm invited to that," Dean said. "Ellen hates me, and for good reason. Besides, I have to finish up that fence. They might be close. But I'm warning you, Sammy, I won't spend the rest of my demonic life locked up in our house. That's not living. I'd rather get dragged back to Hell." Dean hesitated. "Not literally."

Castiel froze, his eyes flying open. Dean was in trouble. And that fence wasn't to prevent a human break-in. It was to keep something much worse out. Dean, what have you gotten yourself into?

Still motionless, Castiel waited until Dean hung up the phone to lift his head up and peer up at him. The movement made Dean's hand slip down to his back. Dean was gazing out the window, his lips in a deep frown.

"Dean," Castiel said, sitting up in bed and rubbing his weary eyes.

"Good morning," Dean said, facing him with a forced smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Castiel said. "What about you? Did you sleep sitting down?"

Dean shrugged. "I'm a demon, remember?"

"Demons sleep," Castiel said, although he wasn't so sure anymore. It was odd, how some of his memories were clearer than others. After he lost his grace, Castiel lost the majority of his memories, his knowledge of all creations. It wasn't something he dwelled on, until he picked up a few religious texts. He found he couldn't read in Enochian anymore, even though the books stated that angels could. The only things he knew were that he had been an angel of the lord, a warrior in Heaven, surrounded by his brothers and sisters, who shared his longing of their absent Father. And now he was mortal.

But Anna had been able to give him some of those lost memories back, when she confessed the truth. Now he remembered more. He remembered his garrison, and every member of it. He remembered his tasks. He remembered the type of soldier he was, the most loyal, the bravest. How did he go from that to this? From a mighty angel to a simple human?

The sudden urge to drown himself in copious amounts of alcohol fell on him. That was it. That was the reason why the immense transition from an angelic being to a human being had been so radical that he had lost the majority of his memories. Because otherwise, Castiel wouldn't be able to endure the great loss. He had taken advantage of free will, and he had been protected from the pain that came with remembering.

"I can sleep," Dean said. "I just didn't want to."

"I—I'm sorry, for the way I acted last night. I shouldn't have forced you to stay with me. That was imprudent."

Dean waved away the apology. "Don't mention it. How about we go make some breakfast? You like bacon and eggs?"

Castiel laid a hand on Dean's chest, stopping him from getting out of bed. "We should talk about this."

"We can talk about anything you want after breakfast," Dean said, laying his hand over Castiel's. He glanced into Castiel's eyes and he squeezed his hand, and then he lowered both of their hands. "You look beautiful in the morning."

Castiel flushed, following Dean with his gaze as he climbed out of bed and exited the room.

"How do you take your coffee?" Dean asked, setting the coffee maker.

"I don't drink coffee," Castiel said, staring at his plate filled with scrambled eggs, hash browns, and bacon. This was by far way more than his usual breakfast oatmeal. It definitely smelled delicious.

Dean looked up from the countertop. "Then why do you have a coffee maker?"

Castiel shrugged, setting his elbows on the table. "All humans have them."

"Cas, there's no rule stating what humans must and must not own in order to be normal," Dean said, although it sounded more like a lecture than a friendly tip. "Not that I'm complaining about the coffee." Dean grabbed a mug and filled his cup, and then carried it over to the dinner table where he took his place beside Castiel.

"No one's ever made me breakfast," Castiel said, a bit sheepishly.

Dean snorted. "You should hang out with me more often."

"Dean, why—"

"Cas," Dean cut him off. He took a sip of his black coffee before he continued. "You keep asking me questions, but I haven't been able to ask a single question in this whole ordeal. That doesn't seem fair."

Castiel blinked, cocking his head. "What would you like to ask?"

Dean ate his breakfast with a type of hunger Castiel hadn't seen much of before. Dean simply acted on whatever he was feeling without any sense of caution. He didn't worry about what anyone thought of him because he swallowed bacon piece after piece.

Castiel ate some of his food, mostly he just observed Dean with narrowed eyes as he made tiny noises of pleasure. After he cleared half of his plate, Dean took another sip of his coffee, and cleared his throat. "Well, I want to hear your story."

"My story?" Castiel asked, confused. "I don't have one."

"Everyone has a story, Cas," Dean said, patiently, scooting his chair in closer to the table. "Here's what I've gathered so far, and please, correct me if I'm wrong. You were an angel. And then you fell on earth. And now you're trapped here to live your life as a human."

"Not quite." Castiel sighed, rubbing a hand on his face. "I was an angel, yes. But I am here now because it was my decision."

"Huh," Dean contemplated, staring firmly at Castiel as he continued.

"You see, I had a lot of responsibilities in Heaven," Castiel said, unsure how to best explain his so called "story" without making himself sound like a coward. "I don't remember everything. My memories come and go. But I do remember something. I remember following orders from an unknown leader. I remember being forced to do things that felt wrong. My father had been missing, for centuries on end. I was lost, Dean." Castiel looked away, seeing things clearer now that he was talking about them. "I heard of others trading their graces for a soul. It sounded absurd. I never thought I'd do the same. Not until mentions of an upcoming apocalypse. Nothing was right, Dean. It was my brothers who wanted to destroy the earth for their own enjoyment."

"So you left?" Dean asked. There wasn't any judgment in his voice, but Castiel felt that he deserved it.

Castiel nodded once. "I went to see the one in charge of the trades. These are my foggier memories. I don't remember who it was, but he made the switch. All I had to do was find a soon-to-be empty vessel. I found a dying man named Jimmy Novak. He agreed to give me his vessel, and in return I offered to ward his family against all evil, which I did while I still had my grace. And so when he passed, his soul left his body and mine occupied it. That is how I ended up here."

"What happened to your grace?" Dean wondered, wrinkling his forehead.

"I haven't the faintest idea." What Castiel had done, he realized, was insane. Giving away his grace for a soul? That would be like trading a car for a bike. "All I remember was thinking how…happier my existence would be if I were human, if I had the ability to feel, anything and everything." His voice took on a wistful tone near the end.

"And what do you feel now, Cas?" Dean asked. There was a glint in his green eyes, sort of hypnotizing.

Castiel stared at him for a long while, squinting as he pondered that. "I feel pleasant."

"Pleasant?"

"Yes. Because for the first time since I joined the mortal world, I didn't wake alone. Instead, I had you by my side. And then you went a step further and made me breakfast. But you didn't do any of it expecting sex. You did it because you are kind."

"Have you really never slept with anyone on the same bed?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Is that the only thing you got from what I said?"

"I just find it hard to believe that you haven't…well…" Dean motioned with his hand.

Castiel shifted in his seat. "I never had occasion."

"I get that you're an angel, and you value your virtue, but, buddy, sex is one of the greatest aspects of humanity—aside from pie, obviously." Dean sat back in his chair, smirking at him. "All you gotta do is find the right person."

Castiel tried to think back on how they ended up on this subject, but he kept getting distracted by the look on Dean's eyes, pinning him down. He shook his head, clearing his mind before his thoughts lead him into dangerous grounds. "I have to work today. I need to shower and get ready."

Dean frowned at that. "But I was hoping I'd show you around my house. I have to finish up that fence today because tomorrow we have our first cake decorating class together."

"Dean," Castiel grumbled, pushing out of his chair and picking up his plate. "I don't appreciate being dragged into things." The fence. What the hell was Dean trying to keep out? Castiel spun around, setting his plate back on the table and his palms on the table. He leaned down, inching his face closer to Dean's so that he had his full attention. "I need to know why you're putting up that fence. Tell me."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "So demanding." He stalled for a bit by licking his lips a few times. Castiel was getting the hang of Dean's tricks, and he wouldn't fall for that one. His dark blue eyes remained holding Dean's gaze. "Alright, fine, I'll tell you," Dean finally said, letting out a long breath. Castiel smiled, moving his face away to give Dean room to breathe. "It was Sam's idea. He doesn't trust this neighborhood yet. He says he can't sleep soundly without more protection. Also, don't tell him I said this, but he likes to frolic. You should see him, running around in the house like a five year old."

Skeptical, Castiel narrowed his eyes. "I find that hard to imagine."

"Don't take my word for it," Dean said, standing up. "Come see for yourself."

"I have to work." Castiel sighed, putting his dirty dishes in the sink. It was useless, attempting to get the truth out of Dean. Sam had been completely wrong when he said Dean was honest.

Dean joined him in the kitchen, this time leaning against the sink rather than shoving Castiel to the fridge. Castiel started with the dishes, throwing Dean wary sideway glances as he worked. "So come over when you get off from work. Ellen won't be there today because she's hosting a dinner party, which I won't be attending."

"You and Jo seem to get along," Castiel commented, focusing on the soapy water in the sink.

"Yeah, we're good friends," Dean said, folding his arms. "It's really nothing more. I wouldn't go for it knowing Ellen was ready to shoot me the minute I stepped out of line. There's no point in ruining a friendship, right?"

Castiel nodded absently. The thought of Dean dating Jo made him feel oddly strange inside. It wasn't a positive feeling either. But it had always been hard to put a name on everything Castiel felt. There were so many things he still had left to understand.

"Why?" Dean asked, curiously, bending in a weird way to get Castiel to meet his eyes. Once Castiel did, Dean smiled warmly. "Are you interested?"

"In Jo? No, she's beautiful, but she's too young for me." Castiel finished with the dishes and let the water disappear down the drain, watching until his sink cleared away before drying his hands on a paper towel. "Not to mention how inappropriate it would be for me to flirt with the boss' daughter."

Dean wagged a finger in front of him. "You have a way of avoiding questions, you know. It's a talent."

"Oh," Castiel said, suppressing a grin. He pressed a hand to his chest. "Were you asking about you?"

Dean laughed, easy and open. In that moment, Castiel realized how comfortable it was to be in Dean's company. Dean was hardly ever troubled, and his good mood seemed to be infectious, because Castiel always found himself with a smile. Contrary to the majority of humans, Castiel never had to worry that he might say the wrong thing around Dean, because Dean wasn't waiting to gather enough evidence to use against him.

When his laughter died down, Dean clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "I'll see you after work tonight."

"You sound sure about that."

"Oh, I am." Dean went in the bedroom to retrieve his shoes, and headed to the front door. "Don't leave me waiting too long."

Amused, Castiel shook his head, watching as Dean vanished from his sight, leaving only the trace of his laughter behind.