Author's Note: Been super busy lately, kiddos. I apologize for any errors. I'll endeavor to correct them tomorrow. Also I'm as always sorry to make youu wait yet again but ooh look its extra long. Forgive me, maybe?

Castiel spends most of Saturday curled up in his bed with self-pity, bitterness and Dean's shirt for company. His mother checks in on him twice but he just says he's still not feeling well. Technically, it wasn't a lie. She tries to get him to eat something before leaving for work but his appetite is non-existent. Around seven, he gets up to take a shower then puts back on the flannel and its back to bed. Charlie doesn't text or call which he knows is his fault.

By mid-morning Sunday, Castiel makes himself get up. He frowns at the green material next to his pillow where he left it, not knowing what it is about it that makes him feel safe. Dean would definitely think he was ridiculous if he could see him. Or maybe not. He had to admit, Dean hadn't made him feel foolish once on Friday, not that he deserved it. Annoyed at his own stupidity over so many things, Castiel dresses quickly and doesn't look back in its direction again.

He walks the three blocks over and knocks on her door. Anxiety and guilt makes the thirty seconds he waits seem much longer. Charlie's mom answers smiling at him in greeting and calls out to her. He hears loud thudding steps descend and then his best friend is filling the doorway, her mom stepping away presumably for Castiel to enter but he waits not knowing how he'll be received. And yes, Charlie doesn't automatically invite him in like she usually would. Instead she just waits but his mouth feels dry like cotton and he doesn't know what to say first. Seeing him blankly stare at her, Charlie just gives him her toughest chin lift and he's so regretful all of the sudden. The small familiar gesture sends a sharp zing in his chest. After almost a full minute of tense silence, Charlie breaks first, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"Well if you're here to grovel, I hope you at least brought-"

He quickly moves forward and wraps her in a tight hug.

"Chocolate..." she finishes warily. He surprised her he can tell but she even so she immediately returns it because that's just Charlie.

"Hey you okay?"

They may have only hugged twice in all their friendship and he's holding her too tight. He just wants to feel connected.

"Cas," she says right next to his ear. "What's wrong?"

He shakes his head and releases her. "I just missed you."

She frowns, trying to read his face. "That's all I'm gonna get for now isn't it?"

Castiel shifts his weight, wondering if he should just go back to bed instead of having to talk about this again.

"Well come upstairs. Maybe a certain badass vampire slayer can help?" Charlie smiles hopefully, testing the waters.

He sighs with relief at the suggestion. "I would love nothing more right now." Stepping inside, he lets her tug him along by the wrist up to her room.

It takes three and a half episodes to figure out how to move his tongue again. And even then he doesn't know exactly how to get to the other side of this conversation. How to sound unaffected about someone he had a silly infatuation with actually wanting him… but then not really him. Just his mouth. Cringing at the thought, he shifts noisily in the half-flat purple beanbag he's wedged into and Charlie swivels her computer chair around to face him.

"Now?"

"Just..." He shifts uncomfortably again. "Just keep watching the show." She makes a little impatient noise but faces back towards the television.

His voice is monotone and as emotionless as he can make it while he recounts it all out again in clipped half sentences like he had with Dean but this time adding Michael's ending threat and manhandling.

Charlie swivels back around so quickly she passes him and almost falls out of her chair. Righting herself, she glares down at him and starts calling Michael all sorts of colorful names.

"That douche of a thousand bags!"

"Charlie.."

"That complete butthead!"

Castiel fiddles with the button on his sleeve but it isn't the same as the flannel's he's been rubbing for two days.

"He's… he's that pickle on your burger when you specifically ask for no pickles."

Even though Castiel knows what she's doing, he cracks a small smile and a low chuckle escapes.

"You know, I can totally hack into the school's system-"

He sobers immediately. "No. You can't."

"Oh please. It's easy peasy." She's already opening her laptop, fingers flying over the keys. "Ancient firewall. I'm sure I can slip in and cause all sorts of trouble for Mr. Asshole Ashton."

"Charlie, please. Don't- Don't do anything. I feel like an idiot and I just want to forget about it."

She screws up her face in a pout and closes the laptop. "Aw c'mon. Let me use my powers for good... or maybe evil in this case."

"No. Thank you, but no. Besides, he alluded to hurting me quite a lot if I told anyone," Castiel finishes dryly.

He'd sort of blown that already… telling Dean and now Charlie. Come to think of it, he hadn't thought anything of blurting the whole thing out in Dean's car that day. Thinking of Dean, Castiel tugs on his sleeves cuff, fingers itching for the softer material he'd been using as some kind of pathetic security blanket all weekend.

Charlie notices. "Did you um… are you okay?" She's slightly wincing like she can't bare the answer.

He meets her eyes. "No I didn't have to. Almost but... I didn't." He looks away awkwardly. The scratches hardly counted. They were gone now and it could have been much worse.

Charlie covers his hand with her own. "But that's great, Cas! Right? I mean, that's a really big deal that you didn't... ya know. This didn't set you off?"

Sometimes, like now, he regrets ever telling her about it. It makes him feel so broken, the fragile way her face goes all soft like she's helpless and doesn't know the right thing to say.

"No. I got distracted." He couldn't take credit. "I uh actually bumped into Dean." He clears his throat and a small smile persists on tugging up one side of his mouth.

Charlie straightens. "Oh really?"

"Yes, he drove me home. Well eventually. First we went to this skating park and ate chicken burritos. And talked about books. Oh and I met his brother."

Charlie's staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth when he stops long enough to look up.

"What?"

She promptly closes it with a click. "Wait, you guys spent more than five minutes together and didn't dissolve into an epic battle of Man of Steel magnitude?"

"I didn't feel much like battling."

Humming, Charlie nods. "And you met Sam too, huh?"

"Yes. He mostly did homework while me and Dean talked." Not that the atmosphere seemed ideal for that. He hadn't wondered at the time but why hadn't Sam gone home instead of going with Dean to the park, something that looked like a normal thing. Surely there were buses he could take. "I take it they're close?"

"Yeah, Dean's kind of a mother hen with him."

He must have a confused look on his face because she bites her lip and continues and little lower. "Dean's dad… well what's a nice word for a drunk?"

"Alcoholic?"

"Too nice."

"Oh." Castiel takes that in. Charlie doesn't mention a mother and he doesn't ask. Her expression looks uncomfortable enough talking about the other boy's family so he doesn't press it. He wouldn't want anyone talking about his family issues either.

"I'm sorry about Friday. Snapping at you."

She waves her hand as if to banish the thought. "I already forgot I was mad at you."

"Still."

"You're allowed one bitch-fit a month so I hope you don't need another one anytime soon."

Ducking his head, he breathes out heavily trying to let go of all the emotional baggage since Friday. If things were alright again with Charlie, he tells himself he can handle whatever Monday brings. "Thanks."

"So are you and Dean gonna braid friendship bracelets together now? I knew you'd be B.F.F.'s if you gave him half a chance."

"Hardly," Castiel says, still not able to stop the faint smile.

As Charlie reaches for the control to start up the vampire that's frozen in a comical mouth twisted expression, he asks, "Charlie… have you ever heard of a song called Stairway to Heaven?"

Grinning, she presses play.

They waste the day polishing off two bags a sour cream and onion chips and almost all of season 1. It's with real regret he has leave in the middle of Buffy finally meeting up with The Master. As villains went, he looked intimidating. Charlie dutifully pauses it there and says they'll pick it up next time he's over.

With the sun setting, Castiel reluctantly drags his feet up his driveway, past his Uncle's grey Nissan. With his hand on the front doorknob, he mentality prepares himself with several rapid deep breathes, then pulls it open.

Sunday dinners are always the same. Roast or ham and his Uncle sitting at the head of the table.

"I noticed you weren't at church, Castiel. Again," his uncle casually says, popping another red potato in his mouth. His smile is like a shark's and just as friendly.

If God existed, Sunday nights were Castiel's trial and tribulation.

"I wonder what could have kept you home this time."

His mother abruptly holds up the basket of rolls. "Bread, Zachariah?"

He shakes his head, laser focus still on Castiel who tries not to squirm. If not for his mother's fretting looks, he wouldn't be half as concerned but her tension was infectious. She hates confrontation and Castiel hates her agitation over it.

"I asked you a question, boy."

"Actually you didn't. You made a statement." He keeps his eyes lowered, pushing peas around his plate.

After a long moment where he could swear he hears the sound of his uncle's grinding teeth, his mom answers for him.

"Cassie hasn't been feeling very good since Friday."

The use of his childhood nickname makes Castiel's nose wrinkle but he keeps quiet hoping if he doesn't draw too much attention they might somehow forget he was there. It was much easier when Gabriel was still living at home. His brother had never missed a chance to incite one of their uncle's disdainful lectures.

"It seems like a chronic medical condition... 'Not feeling good.'" Zachariah continues snidely, drawing each word out with skepticism.

He had no idea what his mother gave as an excuse for his absence to the other people, but apparently she wasn't very imaginative.

"Any idea when this vague and persistent illness will be cured?"

"I couldn't speculate, Uncle," Castiel says, even holding his gaze for a moment before returning to the now unappealing food.

"What's it say in the good book about Pride, Castiel?" Zachariah muses innocently but he knows he's not meant to answer. With a bite to his tone, his uncle quotes, "He who is arrogant in heart is an abomination."

"Please, can we just have a nice dinner?" His mom tries, smiling too big. "I'm sure he just needs some sleep and he'll be back to a hundred percent."

Sighing, his uncle turns to his mother. "What he needs is a strong male presence and a firm hand. You've always coddled him, Sarah, and look at the result."

Castiel clenches his jaw but petulantly stays staring at the peas he's pushed back into a pile. Next he would be bringing up Gabriel's insolent attitude or worse his father. It seemed his uncle's unofficial mission to "guide him on the right path" as he put it. But what was so wrong with him? In the quiet that follows, Castiel fantasizes yelling back that he could be sneaking beer or smoking drugs if he preferred. His uncle acted like missing church was the worst thing in the world.

Seemingly exasperated, Zachariah tells him, "The world is full of sinful temptations, Castiel. You're at a mighty precarious age." Glaring down at the roast he's sawing through, his uncle shakes his head. "And this surly little attitude of yours is evidence of just how susceptible you are." Chewing around a bite of beef, he gestures at him with his fork. "You don't want to end up a man like your father now do you?"

A dark nasty impulse shoots through Castiel to choose that moment to calmly reveal he was gay - two words that would definitely stop this authoritative diatribe he's forced to sit through. Whatever the backlash, it'd be worth it just to punish his uncle for using his father's absence once again as a weapon.

But he's not that brave and his mother looks almost pained at the tension wringing her hands in her lap so Castiel clears his throat and flatly says, "Of course. Forgive me, Uncle."

Zachariah smiles in that condescending way of his that makes Castiel's skin crawl. "Well we will just have to pray for a speedy recovery and I trust, Lord willing… see you next Sunday."

He doesn't answer. Just tunes out the rest of the stilted chatter, mostly his uncle's buoyant voice and counts the minutes until he could escape back to his room.

The next morning, Castiel hits the snooze button too many times and has to rush getting dressed. As he's knotting his tie in front of his mirror, he eyes the flannel in the reflection still on the bed behind him.

Grabbing up his bookbag, he pauses to give it one last glance of indecision before continuing on out the door, leaving it folded next to his pillow.

"Hey Cas."

Castiel jumps likes he was guilty when Dean leans against the locker next to him. "You doin' okay, man?" He doesn't miss the quick look at his arms but they're hidden beneath the sleeves of his dress shirt. Castiel tugs on the cuffs until he's holding them in his palms.

"I'm fine, Dean. How are you?" he asks, purposely misunderstanding.

"Uh, good." Dean seems to be struggling with what to say next. "Good. You know… still early but uh, so you're good then?"

Already feeling emotionally drained from the last few days and on a short-fuse, Castiel suddenly just wants to cut through the bullshit. He'd practically bit his tongue in two with his uncle and with Dean he wasn't going to.

Closing his locker, he turns and faces the other boy directly. He only takes a brief moment to survey the baggy jeans, wallet chain, and grey t-shirt with a cartoon alien on a skateboard before impatiently asking, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Huh?" The bright green of Dean's eyes dims a little. "Seriously, dude? Who gets pissy at someone for being nice?"

Crossing his arms skeptically, Castiel says, "I don't think we've ever had a conversation that didn't turn into an argument at some point-"

"And whose fault is that? Takes two to tango."

"Regardless. I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with."

"Ya think?"

"So why are you being nice to me?" He can't help his suspicion. Especially after Michael.

"Just being friendly."

Castiel frowns.

"Ya know…" Dean chews in his lip. "Because that's something that I want. To be friends."

Castiel takes a moment to decide what to say during which Dean doesn't blink. He searches for the insincere smirk or roll of eyes but Dean seems completely genuine.

"Two things if we're going to try and be friends."

"Shoot."

"No more making fun at my expense over my preferences. I like guys, deal with it."

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs. "Yeah, I really don't have a problem with that."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

Dean laughs once, rubbing a finger over his eyebrow and blowing out a breath all at once. "Anyway. Next?"

"And two…" Castiel looks him straight in the eye. "We don't talk about what you saw."

He can tell Dean knows instantly what he's talking about. "If that's what you want," he agrees, clenching his jaw and looking away.

"It is."

Dean had seen his arms. He couldn't help that, but maybe they could both pretend he hadn't.

"Fine."

Castiel glances around to see how packed the halls are, judging he has about another five minutes or so to start moving on to his first class.

"My turn."

Castiel focuses back on him. "What?"

"I got rules too, man."

"Okay?"

"Learn how to take a joke." Dean surprises him by reaching forward and tugging once on the bottom of his tie. "You can't get your tie in a knot at the drop of a hat, kay?"

Castiel raise an eyebrow at him. "Anything else?"

"Yeah." Dean folds his arms. "You gotta play hacky sack at least once."

His mouth drops open and he's surprised into chuckling. Dean grins. "Keep laughing. It's still gonna happen."

Shaking his head, Castiel suddenly remembers something.

"I'm sorry but I forgot to bring your shirt."

"Don't worry about it, man. I got others."

His heart leaps for a second. It's ridiculous but for some reason it had helped him sleep the whole weekend when he expected to be too stuck in his head with self-loathing thoughts. Even so, Castiel makes himself say, "I'll return it. Tomorrow. I'll remember."

"Like I said, it's cool." Seeming to find the lockers next to them very interesting, Dean shrugs and says, "keep it if you want."

Castiel spends a handful of seconds watching him fidget before Charlie spots them and changes direction to make a beeline.

"My two favorite people with penises! How goes it?"

Dean snickers and leans back against a locker seeming much more at ease now. "It goes. Where you headin'?"

"World History. Jacobs."

"Cool. I'm down the hall with McElroy." He throws an arm over her shoulder and tugs Castiel again by the tie as they start walking in the appropriate direction. "Comin' Cas?"

After only a second's hesitation, he moves forward and catches up to walk in stride next to Dean.

Charlie peeks around Dean's front to throw Castiel a smirk. "Wow. Unchaperoned twice in a row and you still managed not to kill each other? I smell a sitcom."

"I barely resisted," Castiel deadpans.

"I didn't feel like getting' blood all over my jeans," Dean follows up.

Laughing, Charlie smacks Dean lightly in the stomach because he was closest. "Mmm hmm. Oh hey where we eating lunch today, gentlemen? I'm assuming jock-watching is off the menu."

Castiel sucks in a quick breath that both the people next to him know exactly why they weren't going to the bleachers anymore but Dean answers like it's no big deal.

"Come sit with me and my friends. Duh."

He didn't want to immediately insult Dean after their mildly pleasant conversation earlier but he couldn't imagine blending in comfortably with his other friends. "It's a little… crowded over there, but the courtyard's fine."

Ducking under Dean's arm at her class, Charlie salutes. "Alright, later bitches."

Parting ways, Dean lifts his chin at Castiel as a goodbye and turns the corner to his hall. And then he's suddenly left walking to Trig. He had avoided thinking about it all morning until this moment. Heart pounding, he walks through the doorway with his head down, maintaining tunnel-vision all the way to his seat. The normal excited murmur of 30 plus students in a confined space dies down as the cultured voice of Mr. Crowley tells them a page to turn to. He knows he's probably there, heard his deep laugh at something someone whispered to him but Castiel doesn't dare look. Logically, Michael won't approach him about their exchange either out of fear he would say something or anger that he wouldn't go through with it. Still, it's hard to think in terms of logical when he's stuck in vivid memories of that day and listening to him whisper back to someone next to him. After spending the whole class nauseous with tension and trying to make himself as small as possible, the bell rings and Castiel shoots out of his seat heading for the exit.

He doesn't breathe again until he's in his seat in his next class.

For the first time ever, they sit in the courtyard for lunch. It's the opposite corner as Dean's rowdy group and Charlie takes their change in location well, waxing poetic over the shady spot under a big oak and its accompanying bench. He suspects she's just happy not to be on hard bleachers watching boys sweat and grunt. Between bites of bland lasagna, Castiel watches Dean interact with his friends, absently wondering if he was with any of the girls that playfully shoved at him as he tried to balance on his skateboard. How easy it was for people that loved the right way.

Boy sees girl. Girl flirts. Boy flirts. They kiss. They hold hands. They get tired of one another. Repeat. Couples broke up and started a-new every day, never realizing they took for granted how easy it was. He tries to shake off the bitterness but it wasn't easy.

Castiel was vaguely aware that Dean had been going out with Lisa their class president last year… but he hadn't really cared to know or keep up with his love interests. Not that he does now either, but apparently they were friends now. He should know things like that, right?

Dean strolls over about halfway through lunch and waves hello. It seems tame compared to his usual greeting comments but then without the presence of sweating jocks, he supposes Dean doesn't have much fodder for teasing.

Charlie gestures expansively above them. "Dean! Have you seen our tree? Isn't it such a fabulous tree?"

Dean pretends to examine it. "I've seen alotta trees… but yeah this one is pretty kickass."

Castiel looks up at him in greeting when usually he would ignore Dean.

"Hey, I read that book."

Brow furrowing, Castiel asks, "What book?"

"Your favorite or recent favorite, whatever. Aristotle and Dante."

"Oh… you did?"

Great. Why had he told him that book? Why hadn't he said Great Expectations or Life of Pi or just any other possible book?! Even if it was a favorite and definitely his most recent favorite, how stereotypical for him to pick that one. It was about two friends, two male friends, that by the end realize they actually have fallen in love. If he hadn't been so low he wouldn't have given such an honest answer.

Castiel glances at Charlie who is preoccupied with growling curses at her phone. "Stupid bird! Flap! Flap, damn you!"

"Yeah, it was pretty good." Dean shrugs. "Little slow in the middle. Didn't expect the other guy to actually be gay."

"I don't think he did either."

Dean nods and after a second of silence, asks, "So what's another favorite?"

Castiel breathes out in awkward relief that this didn't turn weird. He goes with a safer choice this time.

"Have you read The Book Thief?"

"Nope."

"Huh?" Charlie finally looks up. "Who's a thief?"

The next day was a little easier. He didn't look Michaels way and he pretended he didn't miss having him to obsess over. He didn't go to the library like he had every Tuesday before that for almost two months because obviously that was done with… but he still had a knot in his stomach the whole day. If Charlie or Dean noticed his quiet mood, they don't bother him about it. He lets them talk around him and just coasts through the day.

On Wednesday, after lunch, Dean walks beside him to his next class that's on the way. It was starting to feel normal having him around. Gradually, Castiel was letting his guard down and Dean had been on his best behavior lately. And maybe it was kind of nice having two friends. Charlie and him had just about talked about every topic under in the book at one point or another in their long friendship. Dean brought a new perspective to their lunch time conversations, even if he did have to put up with his addiction to convenient store pastries.

They're almost to his class when out of nowhere Dean asks, "Hey, so uh wanna come over after school?"

"Where?"

"Where you think? My house, dork."

"Oh, um…" Castiel's surprised but, finds he doesn't want to think of an excuse not to go. "What would we do?"

"I dunno. Play Xbox? I got Halo... Call of Duty... Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"

Castiel laughs incredulously at Dean's choices. "I don't play video games."

Dean nods, chewing on his bottom lip. He focuses on it for several seconds before licking his own lips and quickly adding, "But um maybe I could watch you?"

"What, watch me play? That wouldn't be any fun for you," Dean says skeptically.

"I watch Charlie play. I don't mind."

"Well whatever. We'll work it out."

"Okay good."

"Good," Dean echoes walking backwards with a subtle little smirk. "I'll find you after school then."

When Dean turns to go, Castiel reaches out to grab his arm to keep him there. He immediately lets go when the other boy looks down at his hand in question.

"What's your favorite book, Dean?"

For some reason, Dean's satisfied grin that he asked makes Castiel's chest tight.

"On the Road."

Squinting, Castiel tilts his head. "Really."

"Yeah. Ever read it? Whole lotta freedom in it. Like the crazy reckless kind."

He's really looking at Dean maybe for the first time. As if self-conscious, Dean seems compelled to add, "And they decide to eat pie for an entire week when they driving cross-country. I mean what's not to like? Pie, dude."

A brief smile flits across his features but Castiel doesn't say anything. He's distracted watching Dean's freckles pop out amongst the blush that he turns away to hide. Over his shoulder he calls, "Yeah so later, Cas."

The rest of the day passes quickly and Castiel tries to ignore the slight buzz of nervous excitement settling in the pit of his stomach. It's just the novelty of spending any amount of time outside of school with someone other than Charlie. No big deal. If it turned out to be a spectacularly awful idea, he could always walk home. The final bell surprises him and he jerks to attention. On his way out the door, Castiel realizes he never settled on where he was meeting Dean. Dean said he would find him. What did that mean? Should he just go to his car? What if Dean was hanging around the courtyard or near the buses or at his locker waiting for him and Cas was waiting at the parkinglot? Mild panic makes him fret in place for a moment outside the classroom before deciding to head to his locker. He's being ridiculous. What was wrong with him? Maybe he should have asked Dean for his phone number for just this reason. They could have texted. But then he might get the wrong idea. Some people automatically assume if you were gay you can't handle being a friend of the same sex without coming onto them at some point.

At his locker, he's still stuck in his own thoughts that are only going in a circle while he switches out his Biology AP book for his Trig. Looking around, and waiting another minute as almost all the kids clear out of the halls, Castiel indecisively begins a slow walk down the hall. He knew it. Dean had gone straight to his car. Just as he clears the end of the line of lockers, a hand fists in his shirt and yanks him backwards into a darkened alcove. He winces when he hits the wall, Michael looming over him.

"Where's my homework, twink?"

Castiel stares in indignant shock, clenching his jaw and fists in growing anger. With one sentence, it becomes horribly clear this was how it was going to be.

"I'll have it for you soon."

Castiel tries to stomp past him, not wanting to prolong this any longer than necessary but Michael grabs his arm and easily pulls him up short.

"Yeah? When?" His tone is almost playful. He wore a smug smile that didn't match his threatening hard eyes. Castiel had imagined it would be hard to just stop looking at this gorgeous popular guy the same way after so long.. how do you just stop? But Michael was making it almost easy.

"Tomorrow."

"Good boy." He smirks and steps closer to murmur, "You woulda loved it." Michael grabs his junk crudely and walks on.

Castiel presses his lips in a hard line watching the jock saunter away.

"Cas?"

Why had he settled on Michael in the first place? Was he so shallow? Of course he was, damnit. Well, never again. Can someone will themselves asexual? Because if so-

"Cas!"

He turns to his right slowly, coming back to the present to see Dean is frowning at him. "What the hell was that about?"

Castiel blinks, stares at Dean for a second before he looks back the way Michael went to see him turning the corner.

"That?" Castiel scowls. "That was nothing."

"Don't tell me you're still... still chasing after that asshole," Dean growls angrily.

"I said it was nothing. Nothing and definitely none of your business, Dean," he says flatly.

"Whatever, man. Forget I freakin' asked."

Dean shakes his head, walking off. Dammit. He has to deal with Michael and now Dean's attitude. The urge to let him go or call something mean after him is hard to resist. That would be easiest. But then this week had been nice. Really nice. Up until five minutes ago, he'd been enjoying their little trio during the day and was maybe even excited to hang out. If he let Dean walk away like this, he knew he would be in the wrong.

"Wait." Castiel winces when he turns back, not exactly ready for what to say.

"Yeah?" Dean sounds annoyed.

"Are we… are we not going hang out today?" he asks timidly because Dean's face is still hard. When he doesn't stop glaring, Castiel tries, "You offered mutated crimefighting turtles? Not that turtles seem ideal vigilantes but I suppose their shells work as a natural defense?"

After another tense couple of seconds, Dean sighs with frustration and allows a reluctant smile. "Yeah alright. C'mon, Nerd Angel."

By the end of the drive with Stairway to Heaven ending, Castiel has mostly forgotten about having to deal with Michael. Dean put in the previous tape without him even asking and they didn't talk once but the atmosphere between them isn't tense anymore.

Dean lives in a small house in a neighborhood of small houses. Most of the bungalows that line the street have colorful flowerbeds and autumn decorations to mark the beginning of Fall. The Winchester house didn't. The grass is mowed and that's about all there to recommend it. They climb the four wooden steps up the porch and he hangs back while Dean fiddles with the door. Huffing he finally rams his shoulder against it making the aging wooden door swing open all at once.

"Door gets stuck," Dean explains rubbing his arm. He drops his bag by the door and heads straight for the kitchen. Castiel follows, taking small peeks around but none of the drapes are open to let in much light to see his surroundings. Holding open the fridge, Dean peers inside. "Want anything? Coke? Juice? Beer?"

Castiel raises an eyebrow and Dean smiles over his shoulder like he's daring him.

"Coke will be fine. Thank you."

Dean grabs two cans and jerks his head towards a hallway to the right.

Dean's room is messy. Posters of bands Castiel's never heard of overlap on the four walls making the small space seem even more confined. A set a drawers serves as a table for a box tv and an Xbox. DVDs and Games are stacked in a few short piles in no particular order on the floor. Moving past him, Dean makes a valiant effort to shove most of the clothes on the floor under his bed and random clutter into his already over-flowing closet. He trips over a pair of boxers that get caught on his shoe and stumbles backwards until his hip smacks the side of the bedpost. Dean mutters a curse and turns around slightly pink while awkwardly gesturing to the floor since there's nowhere else to sit.

Castiel is smiling to himself when he sits down and folds his legs. Dean plops down next to him a foot or so away. Flustered looked good on him. He was used to seeing Dean cocky.

"I can see you smiling, jerk," Dean says while stabbing the large green Xbox button on and shifting back next to him.

Castiel merely raises an eyebrow. "I'm glad your vision wasn't damaged in that fall you took."

Dean snorts and looks away. "Anyway."

After repeating his intention to just watch, Dean starts up a game. Castiel watches. It's hard to follow any type of storyline since Dean seems slightly uncomfortable, continuously checking his peripheral and dying as a result.

"This can't be fun for you, dude."

"Watching you die repeatedly? Charlie doesn't usually die as often."

"Ha. Ha. I wouldn't be dying so much if you'd play."

"Are you sure? You seem to be very good at dying."

This was kind of fun. It was almost like their usual arguing but... different.

Sighing in mock exasperation, Dean says, "Okay I get to this next checkpoint without dying and you have to play."

Considering for a brief moment, he allows, "Fine."

"Yeah?" Dean grins and starts the round over. Castiel waits until Dean is concentrating back on the game and snatches up the controller.

"Hey, no friggin' fair!"

Dodging Dean's grab, Castiel holds it behind him. "I believe you died," he says laughing now when Dean shoves at him and gets up to his knees. "Again, I might add."

Castiel tries to keep him back with a stiff arm, but when Dean almost reaches it, he pushes back as hard as he can, knocking Dean on his butt. He falls into a tower of game cases and they crash over.

"Oh, Dean. Sorry-"

Within a second, Dean is back and shoving him almost over. "Yeah, you're gonna be." He hears Dean's breathless laugh followed by a pained grunt from the one-handed smack to his gut he got in.

They begin to struggle half in earnest, grunting and laughing in small bursts. A stupid noise like a low giggle comes out of Castiel's mouth while he stretches to hold the controller as far behind him as possible with a splayed palm on Dean's sternum to keep him back. That's when Dean lunges, using all his weight to over-power him so Castiel falls backwards. Suddenly Dean's on top of him, their chests bumping momentarily until Dean braces above him. Castiel gasps in surprise and horror at the twitch he feels in his slacks. Panicked, he tosses controller to the side. Dean doesn't follow it. He just stares down at him while Castiel pants hard. Oh god, had he felt it? He couldn't have. Please don't let him get hard right now.

All of the sudden, the bedroom door bangs open so hard it smacks the wall. Dean shoots up and swiftly moves to sit on his bed as Castiel just as quick pushes to an upright position.

"What the hell is all this goddamn noise, Dean?" A large man with several days beard growth on his cheeks rubs the heel of his hand against his forehead. He's in an open robe over white undershirt and boxers.

"Sorry, Sir," Dean apologizes, sounding a little odd. When Castiel turns back to him, every part of the other boy is suddenly just stiff. His voice, his posture… it's like he's coming to attention. His eyes are laser focused on the figure in the door even though his dad was squinting and shielding his face with a hand from the afternoon sun peeking through the blinds.

"Where's Sam?" he growls.

"Jess's."

"Who?!" Another impatient bark.

"His girlfriend. You met her."

John nods after a second or two. "Right. Blonde girl." He sucks in a breath and seems to notice Castiel for the first time. "Who's this?"

Dean's leg bouncing catches Castiel's peripheral. It's the only sign he isn't completely calm like he appears. "Friend of mine. Cas."

"Hello Mr. Winchester." He doesn't know whether to stand and offer his hand. He's glad he didn't a moment later when the man just turns without another word and walks back the way he came, leaving the door open.

Dean watches until he hears a door slam down the hall and his leg slows. Breathing out shallowly, he lowers his eyes and stares at the floor. There's dense silence for a minute with only the quiet hum of the Xbox until Dean mutters a gruff, "Sorry. Didn't think he'd wake up."

Seeing Dean's obvious embarrassment over his dad, Castiel can almost forget about his own. He'd been about ready to sprint out the door with whatever excuse he could mumble first but looking at Dean's usually expressive face so closed down… well it didn't seem as big a deal. Besides his very inappropriate reaction was normal, damnit. Wrestling around all sweaty with another guy, it was bound to happen.

"It's fine really. You don't have to apologize."

Dean doesn't look up. He just stays staring at the space between his shoes as if it's the most interesting thing in the world.

Frowning, in thought, Castiel searches for the right thing to say. Should he offer something equally awful about his family? Sit down next to him?Tactfully retreat to the bathroom to give him time alone? Maybe he should just leave after all.

What would Charlie do? She would know exactly the right thing to say.

Finally, after taking probably too long debating the right course of action, Castiel cautiously says, "I believe due to outside interference, I may be obligated to play."

Dean smiles after only a few seconds and slowly looks up to meet his eyes. Castiel doesn't look away, only offers his own tentative smile in return.

"Damn, right." He grabs the his other controller and pushes its center button for to sync it before handing it over to Cas.

He notices Dean stays on bed. Quiet. Tense. He only haphazardly explains the objective and it's apparent his heart isn't in it. The playful vibe between them had dissipated whether from father's appearance or - and he winces internally at this - maybe Dean is uncomfortable with him now because apparently he can't even handle shoving and playing around without his body betraying him. He wants to say it was nothing personal. It doesn't have to be weird but he can't just say that. Not that Dean probably noticed anyway. So the air's weird but they play and though he dies several times, Castiel has to admit playing is more fun than watching. Dean continues to be too quiet, staring at the screen solemnly. He stops doing what Charlie calls 'button mashing' for a moment and asks, "How do I make my turtle somersault?"

Pausing the game, Dean scoffs. "You don't care about any of this."

"Oh yes," Castiel says gravelly with his eyes still on the screen. "I'm very interested in the mechanics of turtle sparring."

The corner of Dean's mouth lifts briefly but mostly he just stares at Castiel. The front door slams and they both look back to the game, Dean wordlessly unpausing.

Sam walks past the doorway and says a quick," Hey Dean" then backtracks into the doorway. "And Cas." He adds, grinning.

"Hello Sam."