Sorry I'm posting so late but here it is, the new chapter! The title is from Only Fools Rush In by Elvis Presley. I know, I know, Twist and Shout feels. I couldn't help myself. No death or sadness though, I promise.

Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be

As the days passed, Castiel and Dean fell into a hesitant routine. Family members or friends of Dean would visit in the mornings, bringing tidings of DVDs and sometimes, if they could sneak it past the nurses, burgers and fries. Over the course of the week, Castiel had met Sam, Charlie, Dorothy, Lisa, Bobby, Ellen, Joe, Rufus, Benny and Elizabeth. Dean made sure to introduce Cas and include him in every conversation. And Castiel felt as if he belonged. For once in his life, he considered himself surrounded by friends. These people, near strangers, enjoyed his company and were not greeting him as colleagues, as those he had previously considered friends. Come to think of it, he had not seen or heard from any of his friends since he entered the hospital. But he had been accepted ,almost organically, into Dean's family, a tight-knit group not necessarily bound by blood, but something that ran deeper. It was indescribable, this bond, and for once, Castiel didn't need nor want a definition. He was content. After the initial meetings, no one thought once about treating Castiel as one of their own. Ellen began bringing an extra casserole helping just for him, along with Dean's. Jo began treating him just as she treated Dean, as an older brother. Elizabeth, Benny's five year old daughter, spent her visits by Castiel's side, talking his ear off. They all took to him in different ways but there was no doubt about it, they loved him as one of their own.

However, Castiel's admittance to the family had its disadvantages, mostly for Dean. His transparency when it came to Castiel was alarming. He spent every one of his family's visits being sent knowing glances and trying not to blush. There wasn't a single person who couldn't see right through him. Even little Elizabeth knew, frequently asking Dean in a sing-song voice if he and Cas had been K-I-S-S-I-N-G. God, Dean wished they had.

Neither of the men knew how much longer they could last, the electric current running through the air nearly too much to handle. Both were on the verge of insanity. It was a constant tension, a constant never acknowledged but always felt. And it was hell.

The dam broke on a Sunday. Dean and Castiel were side by side on the bed, watching The Princess Bride in comfortable silence. The tension was almost forgotten. Almost. It hung in the background, in the peripheral, not quite touching them but still a noticeable presence. They had both elected to ignore it, focusing on the present rather than the future. The present was simple, easy but the future was full of what-ifs and maybes.

As the credits rolled, Dean turned expectantly to Castiel, a mere inch or two from touching. "So, what'd you think?"

"It was quite romantic, Dean."

The room grew silent. Dean licked his lips, unsure of what to say. So he said nothing. He focused on slowing his breath, steadying his hands, quenching the blush rising in his cheeks. But it was easier said than done. God he was nervous. Was it going to happen? Was he going to kiss Castiel? Was Castiel going to kiss him? What if Castiel didn't want it? Oh Lord. Why am I so nervous? I'm never this nervous.

"Can I…" Dean licked his lips once more, a nervous tick. He started again. "Can I kiss you?"

"As you wish." Castiel's voice was a low growl, deeper than usual. He grinned, something glinting in his eye. Humor? Excitement? Nervousness? Dean couldn't tell. Maybe all three.

Castiel's lips clashed with Dean's before he had finished his trail of thought. His lips were soft and warm and chapped and wonderful. Dean wouldn't mind doing this forever. For the rest of his life, even. God, he was just now kissing this guy and already head over heels. Damn, I've got it bad. Dean felt a moan escape as Castiel's tongue pressed in, hurried and rough, but not unpleasant. The exact opposite of unpleasant, to be exact. Another moan escaped and dear God I sound like a pornstar.

On the other end of things, Castiel seemed to be enjoying himself. He was positioned on top of Dean, ducking his head to kiss Dean fervently. His breath came in short pants into Dean's mouth and dear Lord, that's sexy. Castiel, despite his obvious excitement (which Dean could feel pressing against his leg) and the needy noises he let out into Dean's mouth, was mindful of Dean's injuries. He kept his touches light, refraining from pressing too hard on his chest and side, mindful of his ribs. The broken nose, however, was much more difficult to avoid. Despite the frequent brushes and bumps of Castiel's nose against his, he barely felt the pain. He was too wrapped up in the kiss, the moment.

God, Dean could do this all day.