Cas was not a guy. When not in his vessel, Castiel was nothing more than a 'multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent', as he had made clear to Dean and Sam many times over the years. Dean tried to bear this in mind, but when he closed his eyes and pictured the angel, the only image he had was Jimmy Novak's body, all lithe muscle and five o'clock shadow. It was not an unattractive picture. Factoring in their history, the ups and downs, the sacrifices and the loyalty Cas had made and shown for him over the years, the image of Cas was all too attractive. However, whatever Castiel might say otherwise, to Dean, and to the rest of the people they were likely to run into, the picture was also unmistakably male. The fact that this information, at least on the chemical level, didn't seem to bother him was freaking Dean out a little, which was why he was currently sitting in a random bar nursing a scotch instead of eating breakfast with Sam and Cas in his bathrobe.

It wasn't something Dean had ever explored, this part of himself that was drawn to strong jaws instead of soft curves. It wasn't a very dominant part, truth be told. He'd had a lot of relationships with women, and they hadn't been based off of intellectual attraction, but Dean would have to be stupid not to notice the tendril of heat that crept up on him when faced with a handsome waiter or a charming cashier. It was just not something he acted on. Or talked about. Ever. Hell, it wasn't like his twenty-year-old self could've just asked John for advice. "Hey Dad, I think I might be into dudes too, how should I address with you and Sammy, not to mention the super-conservative and backwater hunter's circles we run in?" That would have gone over well. He probably should have figured Sam would be onto him though. The man was smart, and Dean hadn't exactly been subtle, especially since Cas had busted out of Purgatory, but it really wasn't something he was ready to discuss with his brother yet. It wasn't really something he was ready to discuss with Cas either, for that matter, but it seemed like something that was going to be pretty unavoidable given the events of that morning. Dean took another swig of his drink, letting the alcohol burn down his throat. Christ, what was he thinking? Cas was an angel of the Lord, and Dean was a human being. A pretty shitty human being when it came down to it. Even if he could get the angel to understand, what did Dean have to offer Cas other than more of the same crap they'd been dealing with for the last four years?

"Hey handsome," a voice sounded from next to him. Damn, Dean hadn't even heard the woman approach. "Wanna buy me a drink?"

"It's a little early," Dean joked, not really in the mood, "Don't you think?"

"Apparently not for you, Dean Winchester." Dean looked at the woman just in time to see her eyes turn pitch black before a strong set of arms grabbed him from behind, shoving a rag soaked in chloroform over his mouth and nose. God damn it. He should have known better than to let anyone get the jump on him like that. His last thought before he blacked out was a cry to his angel. Cas.