Hey guys!

First off, to those of you who left me a review on chap.3, THANK YOU SO MUCH. That was super sweet and much needed! I'll get to writing a few more drabbles to thank you guys because it really helped a lot with getting the motivation to write this chapter!

Now I'm slowly starting to get closer and closer the situation I wanted to create around Dean and Cas. In this chapter, you'll get a little bit of insight on Dean's way of thinking and his... 'mental state', sort of, and it's something I really really wanted to write about. I want to get him to evolve and figure some things out throughout this story, but for this to happen, I needed to establish some sort of a stable base for him, and well... here we go!

Let me know what you think of it? And whether or not you think Dean is an ass. Or a moron. Or a bit of both.

(Btw, still looking for a beta reader! Or anyonw who has contacts among the SPN script writers. *wink)

Love you all!

There weren't so many days left before the party, but they passed by way too fast, were extremely confusing, and Castiel spent them wondering whether his whole life was nothing but a strange dream, or if this was all just a mere illusion.

The thing was... Dean. Just Dean. Dean was the problem.

Dean was not being Dean. Or rather, Dean was being undean.

First off, he was touching Castiel. Constantly. Now Dean had always been a little touchy-feely, obviously something he took from Mary, considering John was just as affectionate as a dead tree, but never before had he touched Castiel that much.

It had all started while Castiel had been working on finishing Jo's dress. Castiel was always very focused whenever he worked on clothes. Until then, Jo's dress had been a bit of an excuse for them to meet up and discuss their "Dean-business" without attracting any unwanted attention, but he still fully intended on finishing it for her, knowing she would be delighted. He had been drawing out his final pattern, then cut out his fabric the previous night, sewing together the main parts -that included the sleeves, the one and only thing he infinitely loathed about clothing and wished he did not have to ever deal with. That only left a few hems and some readjustments to do in the morning and he honestly believed he could achieve it by noon, with a bit of coffee probably to fight off the exhaustion. Then again, what he had not expected was Dean.

He had not seen nor heard him step into his room, but he surely felt his impressively strong hands land on his shoulders, surprisingly gently, and he jumped so high in his chair it made Dean chuckle. (Castiel, not so much, as he looked down to his now miserable, screwed up hem.)

"God, man, you're so tense I swear you're gonna get stuck like that if you keep going," Dean said in a light voice, his hands not moving from an inch.

Castiel sighed and without thinking, he leaned back a little -and thus pressed back into Dean and yes, that was a startled gasp he had to swallow back down.

"I haven't been working that long..."

"You've been at it all night."

"How would you know?"

"You went to the kitchen. To get coffee. Seven times."

"Oh."

Castiel blamed it on their coffee maker for being as old and loud as a WWI plane on a good day. "Sorry if I woke you."

"If?" Dean chuckled again, and this time he moved and his hands moved too but they did not move away, they moved into his shoulders and in circles and Castiel frowned deep as he could.

"Man, if that wasn't enough, I could hear you mumbling, you sounded just like the crazy old dude that stands in front of that Walmart every Tuesday." Castiel cringed at that, and even though he couldn't see it, he could feel Dean's grin widen.

"Tired much?" He whispered and Castiel couldn't help a shiver, and he cursed himself because with his hands on his shoulders there was no way Dean had not felt that, but yes, he shivered anyway. Dean standing behind his back. Dean whispering to him. Dean touching his body. Those three things were on Castiel's Christmas list every year, yet had he known getting what he wanted would end up feeling that awkward, he would have asked for cookies, coffee and a cold shower instead.

He was trying to think of a way to get away from this -as well as a good reason why he would actually want to get away from this- when Dean leaned forward and tilted his head, so that he was now hunched above him and looking down, right into his eyes.
With this wonderfully toned chest of his pressed right into the back of Castiel's head. Christmas was so happening.

"How about a massage, uh?" Dean said -by then Castiel's thoughts were on mute- then leaned back again, not waiting for his roommate assent to start moving those god-sent fingers across Castiel's back and shoulders. "I give killer massages. I've practiced on my mom for years and you look like you could use one."

What came next was just as good as the opening scene of a very badly directed pornographic movie -Castiel was actually kind of expecting someone to yell "cut!' anytime when Dean's hands started moving way down- and when Dean's phone loudly interrupted them and put an end to that scene that came from absolutely nowhere, Castiel was not sure whether he was actually feeling relieved or depressed.

A bit of both, really.

Things got crazier then.

Dean got sweet.

Alright, Dean was a sweet person to begin with, all in with good intentions and adorable little things here and there, despite the occasional dirty sock lying under the couch or the much dirtier dishes filling the sink (all the way up).

But he got sweeter than before. He noticed things. Castiel being tired, Castiel not having eaten lunch, Castiel feeling a bit down after Ellen's mentioning Bobby, Castiel not going out for his usual jog that evening. Had Castiel been a girl, Dean would have had his menstruation cycle memorized.

That day, when Dean went out for lunch, he brought Castiel something back -his favorite sandwich from that baker down the street- and he did it every single other day of the week, too.

He went grocery shopping. Which he had not done a single time in the last three and a half months.

Things got downright ridiculous when, on that one evening, he actually offered to watch a movie together, let Castiel pick it -which meant romantic comedy, which he absolutely hated- and went as far as letting Castiel fall asleep on his shoulder and not wake him up, even an hour and forty eight minutes after the movie finally ended. He did not complain about it when Castiel eventually returned to the world of the living (a mentally freaking out in every possible way Castiel), had not mentioned it a single time since then, and had offered a laid back "man, you seemed so damn tired, you got to sleep more, Cas" and a shrug as the only explanation.

Castiel was clueless. The list went on and on from there and he genuinely did not know what to think.

Dean had always been good to him, but now that was a bit much. It was all strange and unexpected -and rather nice, too, of course, but Castiel knew better than to get his hopes up.

Dean's thought process was rather close to that of a kid, and for that reason, Castiel was a worried that his friend was actually hiding something very big and very bad from him and trying to apologize about it ahead of time.

Or was he feeling bad about something he had done already? Was it maybe because of last time, with that Amy girl? Was Jo's constant ranting finally getting to him?

It felt somewhat wrong to see Dean as this kind of person, though, and Castiel eventually just dropped it altogether, forced himself to try and see this all as nothing but little acts of friendship, and ultimately, simply enjoy it without questioning it.

Dean had no clue what the hell was going on. Or rather, what the hell he was doing.

He'd been all over Cas. For days. In a way that even he would have qualified of "way over the friendly limit". And a lot more often than he usually would.

Whenever he tried to find a good reason behind this recent change, the one thing that came up was... Ruby.

He was actually feeling guilty for inviting her to Saturday's party, without telling Cas or Jo about it. Well, mostly Cas.

At first, he hadn't really meant to invite her, honestly, he saw her as an okay girl, a hot one, for sure, but apart from that, he couldn't really see himself enjoy nice sleep overs with her, movie nights and dates at the restaurant and running across a field, hand in hand and into the sunset and giggling and sharing deep and girly secrets together -all those things that two people needed to share and do together in order to qualify as a couple. What he and Ruby had together was entertainment. Fun. Just that. Which was good enough. He had had no intention to take her to Jo's place.

Until Castiel decided to bring Balthazar.

Dean hated the guy with all he had. He really did. He hated that familiarity with which he talked to Cas. He hated the nicknames. He hated the smiles. He hated the touches. He hated every single thing that Balthazar did to make it seem like they were together, which he knew they weren't. He'd always suspected that Cas was gay -he was a sewing major for God's sake-, and he honestly didn't mind it, but somehow, he truly despised the way Balthazar kept making him look. Like they were a damn couple and Cas was okay with it.

So yeah. Dean may or may not have had the temper of a five year old, but he'd reacted by texting Ruby at the speed of light anyway and within an hour, he had a date for Saturday's party.

And then, about a fraction of second later, he had felt all the guilt in the world come crashing down on his shoulders.

Alright, he knew he and Cas were not dating. Or anything of the like. At all.

But Dean wasn't an insensitive jerk, despite what Jo and Sam constantly said about him.

He had this sort of... of feeling... according to which Cas had a sort of... crush on him. Maybe.

He knew it could not possibly be true. He also knew just how arrogant and fucked up it sounded and how much of an asshole believing this made him out to be. The thing was, he didn't really believe it. It was just a sort of fantasy... Well, 'fantasy' made it sound bad, it wasn't like the thought of Cas liking him made him horny or anything, it was more of an... ego-boosting kind of thing. Yeah. Well now that sounded worse.

But basically... Contrary to popular belief, Dean did not exactly shine with self-confidence. To be quite honest, his self-esteem was actually rather low, and he did not know when he had started doing that whole thing where every single glance from Cas had got to mean something, but part of him swore it did and somehow... Somehow it made him feel good. About himself.

As bad as it sounded, it made him feel like Cas was... won over, or something. Like he was on his side, for good, and wouldn't ever leave him. It wasn't a feeling that required any following through, it was a feeling that left him content with the way things were, that little domestic life, that sick fantasy according to which he and Cas were good old friends that lived together, and Cas was kind of pining on him, and he was being the good guy that knew it but acted as though he didn't and let them go on with their little routine.

Then there was that other side of him, thebrainy one, that knew how pathetic it all seemed, that knew it was not true, that knew that Cas quite definitely did not like him, that knew it wasn't anything more than an illusion, a sort of dream. The upside of this was that since Cas did not like him, their friendship was not endangered, and they didn't have any problem to face.

What he had not realized was just how self-destructive that whole set of mind was. The part of him that knew this to be nothing but a miserable dream was drowning in low self-esteem, partly driving him to go and date those countless faceless girls, and bask in the reassurance they offered. The part of him that did believe, however, had him go crazy with guilt (because, if Cas truly had a crush on him, then dude, that would have made him the king of jerks for bringing all those chicks home day after day and making out with them right under his nose). And in the end, admitting that all of this was actually going on inside his head would have meant admitting that he was an egoistical, vain moron with absolutely no self-worth, that couldn't see further than the safe little world he had created around himself.

Either way, he was feeling guilty about something, and that something had to do with bringing Ruby to the party and Cas and he did not want to look into it any longer because he was getting a headache, and self-introspection definitely wasn't his thing.

So he was just going to deal with in Winchester style : turn a blind eye to it all and pretend he knew what was really going on, and that all that touchy-feely crap was nothing more than some nice and healthy friendliness on his part.

'Healthy'. Yeah.

God he hated himself.

Saturday evening had finally come, with all the trouble it would eventually bring, yet at this point, Dean and Castiel were barely finishing getting ready to go.

Castiel slid Jo's dress into a paper bag, and had one last look at the mirror to make sure he was all nice and ready before actually leaving.
Somehow, Dean's affectionate behavior had been getting to him, and he ended up wearing nicer clothes than he had intended for the party. He had no reason to, really, no one to please, but it still felt like the right thing to do, and so there he was, wearing his nicest flannel shirt over a rather fitting black t-shirt, and his favorite pair of tight faded jeans. Well, at least, he knew Jo would appreciate the effort, as she'd been bugging him about those jeans for weeks. They apparently did things to his butt, according to her.

When he grabbed his keys then walked into their living room, he noticed that there was something off about Dean by the way he just sat there, on their couch, fiddling with the hem of his very own shirt.

"You haven't changed yet?" Castiel asked softly, not wanting to surprise his roommate as he seemed deep in thought, yet just as expected, Dean did jump a little before looking at him with a very... very strange look in his eyes.

"I, uh... no. Um, I think you should go ahead, 'cause I... I still got a few things to take care of before I leave so... Yeah." He choked out all too fast, looking everywhere but into Castiel's eyes. "You go ahead and I'll meet you there, ok?"

Cas wanted to argue, but that look on Dean's face dissuaded him and he simply nodded.

"Alright. Then I will take my leave now. I will see you there, Dean," he replied gently, patting his friend's forearm as he passed him by on his way out, then closing the door quietly behind him.

Dean sighed and took his head in his hands, muttering a curse. There was no getting out of that one.