Cas woke up, decided that was a bad move, and fell back asleep.

The next time he awoke, his headache had subsided slightly and he was able to open his eyes and stare up at the bunk above him, eyes horrified as he remembered the humiliating events of the previous night.

Dreading the look on Dean's face, Cas turned his head ever so slowly to the left, only now beginning to wonder how he had gotten to be covered properly by blankets when he had simply passed out, half-clothed, the night before.

He found an empty bunk when he had managed to turn his head all the way over, and the rest of the bus was completely silent. "D-dean?" he called, voice cracking in the middle of the word. There was no response, and Cas considered it safe to sit up.

That, too, was a bad move- his headache instantly returned, a thousand times stronger than before, and Cas was about to fall back onto his bunk when he saw the folded piece of torn notebook paper wedged in between Dean's blanket and the bed-frame.

Clutching his head in pure agony, Cas reached out and clasped the paper, seeing that it had "Cas" written on it in scrawly handwriting.

He unfolded the note and began to read.

"Good morning, and welcome to New Orleans!

If you're reading this, that means I'm already sound-checking over at the concert hall. Didn't want to wake you up for that, 'cause you were out pretty hard (you snore when you sleep drunk, too. REALLY loudly) and soundcheck is always pretty boring.

Coffee is in the front room and so is a bagel. I figured you wouldn't want to go too far for breakfast so I got you some. I hope you like cream cheese. And tabasco sauce.

And there's some Tylenol or something in the cupboard over the fridge. You should take it.

You don't have to go to the concert tonight. You said you hadn't drunk for, like, five years, so your hangover is probably the worst thing ever. So just stay here and sleep it off or something. Relax, I promise you won't miss much.

And don't wander off! You're in no condition to go anywhere. Trust me on that. Don't make me worry about you, Cas.

I'll see you tonight, and you better be okay.

x"

Dean had terrible handwriting.

Cas scanned the message a couple times again before relief flooded his body and he almost collapsed back onto his bed at the sudden vanishing of tension he didn't know existed.

Dean didn't hate him. Didn't want to never talk to him again. Rather, he was being even more flirtatious than normal.

Could it be that he was... okay with what had happened the previous night?

Cas re-read the whole thing once more, eyes sticking to the tiny "x" at the end.

X.

A kiss.

Or maybe that was how Dean usually signed his notes.

Hating himself already for what he was about to do, Cas rolled his eyes and reached for his omnipresent phone, pulling up Google and running a search for how Dean Winchester signs messages.

"Dean Winchester signs his personal notes with his name, and one thing that makes his signature distinctive is the shading on the-"

Cas stopped reading and took a deep, shaky breath.

Dean had signed his note with a kiss. There was no doubt about it.

Cas fell back onto his pillow and allowed himself a small smile in triumph.

And how about that- he'd kissed a boy and he'd liked it.

"Liked" wasn't even the right word. Kissing Dean had made Cas question every second of his past heterosexuality, because if being with Dean felt so right, no woman would ever be able to give him that sense of being made whole ever again. And every memory of every kiss and more from his past suddenly felt wrong, unwanted, not real.

Cas was not yet sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

Probably best he leave this whole incident out of the article, no matter how far it ended up going.

He rose a few seconds later, remembering slowly how to use his legs before stumbling out into the front room, using the wall for support. The light in the front room was considerably brighter than in the bunk area, and he blinked, almost blindly, for a few seconds as he adjusted. Once he had, he looked around and found that Dean indeed had brought him coffee and breakfast.

The gesture warmed his heart and he launched himself at the well-needed food, almost forgetting his hangover for a second before it came back full force and he needed to sit down for a bit as the spots in his vision cleared slowly. Once he could see again, he reached for the coffee and drank a sip.

The coffee was perfect. The perfect amount of sugar. The perfect amount of cream. The perfect temperature.

Cas wondered how Dean had known.

But then decided not to question the perfection that everything about Dean seemed to be and drank the coffee gratefully. The bagel went down his throat soon after, and Cas noted that it helped his headache immensely.

Dean was freakishly good at dealing with hangovers, clearly, and although that knowledge would have disturbed Cas before, at the moment he was far too occupied with ingesting various remedies to really care much.

The day passed in a bit of a blur as Cas drifted in and out of consciousness- he really needed to get used to drinking again, what with living with Dean and all, even though it was temporary- and wrote. He called for pizza at some point and barely managed to lurch to the door to shove a twenty in the confused and curious delivery boy's sweaty hand, grab the pizza box, and collapse again on the couch.

Sinking his teeth into the first slice he could grab, Cas opened his laptop and, horribly ashamed of himself, pulled up a search on livebloggers for tonight's concert. This would be the first concert he'd miss but he still wanted to know what was happening.

He found some teenage girl's Twitter page and sat back and relaxed, waiting for the show to begin. He thought he could hear the sounds of it starting drifting to him very faintly through the bus's open windows, but it may have just been his imagination. Cas sipped his third cup of coffee and waited.

"omgomgomgomg he's going on stage!1 #DeanWinchester2012"

"oh never mind its the opening band lol srry"

"hahahaahahahhha they sukk! #BringDeanOnstage"

"#brINGDEANONSTAGE"

"ok ok ok ok ok omg theyre gone (lol took ages) and now DEAN!1!"

"well not yet but soon :) :) :) :)"

"omg just saw a girl with the same bag as me lol #awkward"

"THEYRE PUTTING HIS SPECIAL MIKE OUT #BRINGDEANONSTAGE TOO NOW LOL"

Cas winced and practically threw his computer across the room to make it stop. Instead, he quickly exited out of the Internet browser and closed his eyes. Fine. He wouldn't get to hear about the concert as it happened. Oh, well- it was either reading all that DEANWINCHSTRLUVR77 had to say, actually going to the concert and risking certain death by way of hangover, or just staying in the dark about it.

He chose option three, hoping that Dean would tell him about it when he got back to the bus a few hours later.

So Cas slept instead.

He was awoken after what seemed like seconds by the sound of a door slamming and a tired but happy voice calling, "Oh, honey, I'm ho-ome!" in a cheesy, sing-song way. Cas instantly twitched out of sleep, blinking as he regained use of his eyes, and flailing for a second or two as he tried to sit up.

"And what sort of time do you call this?" Cas said, sitting up and swallowing so his throat was less dry.

Dean chuckled and threw his coat off onto a conveniently placed hook by the door. "How're you feeling?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"Fine."

"Good, 'cause I was worried sick about you." Dean strode over to where Cas was still semi-prostrate on the couch. He bent down and swiftly pressed his lips to Cas's forehead- the gesture was too chaste to even be a kiss- taking his relative temperature. Cas shivered slightly at the touch and said nothing. "You kinda have a fever," Dean said, a frown creasing his face, and straightened up. "Did you take any Tylenol or anything today?"

Cas searched his mind and found nothing. "I don't think so."

Dean swore under his breath and walked over to the cabinet over the fridge. "It was right here, dammit. You should have taken some." He poured a glass of water, shook a pill into his hand, and returned to Cas's side. "Here. Down the hatch."

Cas swallowed the pill obediently and Dean appeared to be satisfied. "You're being very motherly," Cas said once he'd drunk the entire glass of water.

"The Devil takes care of his own," Dean said, flashing Cas a smile and sitting across from him..

His own? So... I'm yours?

Cas cleared his throat and his thoughts. "How was the concert?"

Dean shrugged. "Normal. Nothing really happened. Some fans tried to climb onstage, which failed pretty miserably. But other than that, completely usual." He smiled. "How was your day?"

Cas sighed and lay back. "Boring. Full of writing and sleeping."

"Good. In your condition, there's nothing else you could do." Dean glanced at Cas and winced. "By the way, I- I'm really sorry. For making you break your five-years-sober thing."

Cas smiled sadly. "It was too good to be true, anyway. And it's not your fault."

Dean continued to look guilty.

"Really. Stop blaming yourself."

Dean slowly dragged his eyes over to meet Cas's, and he swallowed, expression still full of sadness. "It was my idea."

"I would have gone anyway."

They stared at each other for a few seconds and then Cas tore his eyes away. "It was my choice to drink, and I chose yes. It had nothing to do with you."

Silence for a few more seconds.

"So you, uh, still hungover?" Dean asked. Anything to break the silence.

Cas nodded. "Pretty much. It's a weird feeling." He thought. "Is this what it feels like to be pregnant?"

"What?" Dean spluttered. "Pregnant?"

"Yeah. You know, morning sickness, headaches, weird food cravings..."

Dean grinned. "Only you would think of that, Cas."

"Only me." Cas sat up fully and swung his legs off of the couch so he was sitting up straight and waited for further conversation.

No further conversation came.

Silence fell and sat on top of the two of them, engulfing both of their thoughts.

"Okay, let's talk about it," Dean suddenly said, the words almost erupting out of him after a few more seconds of the devastatingly awkward silence.

Cas looked at him, instantly grasping Dean's meaning and somewhat terrified about what Dean would say, and nodded.

Dean swallowed. "Let me start off by saying that for me, last night wasn't... It wasn't a mistake. And I was fully aware of what I was doing and did it by choice. If you saw it as unwanted and wish it never happened, we can stop this right here, right now, and never talk about it again. Was... was it unwanted?"

Cas slowly raised his head and met Dean's eyes and, very slowly, almost afraid, shook his head.

A grin creased Dean's face and lit up his eyes. "Okay. Cool. Me neither." He sighed, gathering his thoughts. "So... God. I had a whole speech planned out, and now I can't remember any of it. Perfect." Dean wrinkled his nose and thought briefly. "Okay. So. I've been straight my whole life. Well, kinda. Every now and then a good-looking guy would wander my way and I would deviate just a little bit. Not all the way. But that wouldn't be something I'd really talk about with anyone. So, um, yeah. So that was all really, really new for me then and still is now, because I was raised straight and have pretty much always been into girls, but... Last night?" He shook his head. "I don't know. That felt... right. Somehow." He glanced at Cas, sudden indecision in his eyes. "Stop me if I get too far, okay?" Cas nodded, not meeting Dean's gaze, because Dean knew, Dean knew everything, Dean was reading his mind. "But... when I asked you what the hell we were doing, it wasn't 'cause I didn't want what was happening or you. It was because everything was going so fast and... oh, man, Cas, you were really drunk. I couldn't take advantage of you like that. It wouldn't have been fair to anyone. Probably wouldn't have been all that great, either, because I was pretty plastered, too. And I didn't want you to wake up next to me and have no idea of what happened." Dean took a deep, shuddering breath and stared at his hands, folded in his lap. "And then again. I... I've never... I've never been with a guy. If you know what I mean. Because I'm so used to being straight. And I guess I kinda did freak out a little. Even though- Christ, I can't believe I'm saying this out loud- I've been waiting for it to happen since the second we met. Which is why I was a dick to you, 'cause I was trying to distance myself from you. Like, when I slept with that maid right then, I was trying to ignore the feelings that I was having about you by drowning my sorrows and confusion in sex with a gorgeous woman. I thought that would remind me that I was straight once and for all. And, you know, I'd just turned down Jo, 'cause I was still confused as hell about what I somehow felt about you, so I wanted to kinda make up for that because what kind of an idiot turns down Jo? Right? And then that other girl, uh, Harpy, Happy, Hatter, or whatever her name was- same deal. I couldn't be with her because I didn't want anyone but y-you. And lots of other girls have asked to come home with me over this tour, but I've said no to all where I would say yes before. I didn't want them. I wanted you." He glanced up at Cas for a split second and then tore his eyes away, continuing. "But I just didn't know how to react after a certain point last night. I froze." He smiled sadly. "I- I guess I regret that. But the more I think about it, the better of a decision it seems to be. Because..." He took a deep breath. "If... if we do... decide to be... together. Or wh-whatever. I... I think we should take it slow. Like a normal relationship. Because I normally put out on the first date and then never see her again and end up breaking her heart. But I want to try the kind of relationship that's in all the dumb chick-flick movies. You know. Candlelight dinners. Flowers. God, maybe even hand-holding. Taking it slow. Because I've never really had that before. And you are not someone I'd want to just love and leave. Because last night, I kinda realized that I don't even really truly want you that way. I mean, I do, but I don't have to have you in order to stay with you. I want to take it slow this time. It would be so nice to be in a relationship where it's me and my best friend, and we can talk, and hold hands, and... Not just have it be physical. I've never had it not just be physical. Even though..." He grinned, still resolutely not looking at Cas. "Lord knows that if you wanna fuck me, I won't say no." He stopped smiling and looked almost wistful. "But I think it'd be nice. And especially because I'm new to this whole not-heterosexual thing." And very, very slowly, Dean dragged his eyes up to meet those of Cas. "So, uh... this was basically a really, really long way of saying... wanna make out?"

And before Dean could even smile, Cas had covered Dean's mouth with his.

Yes, he was thinking. Yes, Dean, I will be your boyfriend. I will hold your hand and take you dancing and you can sing me love songs and we can go to a drive-in movie and steam up the windows, if you want. Yes. I'll be with you through that. And I want to take it slow, too, because honestly, I like you too much. And I'm scared one of us will hurt the other by accident and then we'd lose this beautiful thing that we have. So let's be good and old-fashioned. I would love that.

But what he ended up saying, a second after he pulled away from Dean, was cut off mid-word by Dean kissing him again, destroying both his words and his thoughts.

They kissed for a few minutes, not as intensely as they had the previous night, but more slowly, intimately. Since both were completely sober, they were aware of every movement they made, a hundred percent in the moment.

It was better that way, Cas decided.

When he surfaced for air, Cas placed a firm hand against Dean's chest to prevent him from stopping his words again, and began. "In a word, yes." He smiled, took a deep breath, and went on. "In many words, I agree. We should take it slow. Because I can't label myself anymore. I always thought I was straight, too, and then..." He gestured at Dean. "I guess I'm Dean-o-sexual or something." Dean snorted and Cas ignored him, going on. "I would love to have a cheesy rom-com montage relationship with you," Cas said softly, gripping the side of Dean's face with his free hand and gently stroking Dean's cheek with his thumb. "It would be an honour, Dean."

A shy smile of sorts darted across Dean's face. "Really?"

"Really." Cas leaned in and kissed Dean once.

"How about that," Dean said, pure, unadulterated joy in his eyes. "I have a boyfriend."

Cas blushed to the tips of his ears. "You sure do."

"Who are we going to tell?"

The question froze the air in the room as Cas and Dean stared at each other in absolute terror.

"Sam?" Dean whispered, eyes huge.

"Jo?"

"Ash?"

"Gordon?"

"The fans?"

"The Internet?"

At that point, they both started laughing and couldn't stop for a while.

When they calmed down, Dean said, "Ah, screw it. They'll figure it out for themselves."

Cas nodded and pressed a quick kiss to Dean's lips. "Poor Jo."

"Poor Sam," Dean said and grinned. "He'll die of shock."

"Oh, I don't know," Cas said, thinking. "I've got a brother back home he might like."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Is your whole family as ridiculously attractive as you?"

Cas blushed and looked away. "I... We have been told so, I guess."

"Wow," Dean said. "Congratulations on the configuration of your DNA."

"Uh, thanks. Right back at'cha."

There was a pause.

"So, really? Since the first time we met?" Cas asked, somewhat unsure of whether or not Dean still wanted to talk about it.

Dean smiled with one corner of his mouth. "Really. I couldn't stop thinking about you and it was really a problem."

Cas couldn't keep the smile from his face. "To be honest," he began quietly, knowing he'd probably regret what he was about to say, "I'd pretty much always found you attractive. First time I saw a picture of you, I thought I might swing both ways. But, uh, actually meeting you more or less confirmed it." He couldn't believe he was actually saying that out loud- something he'd had in his head for days now, and was finally telling Dean how he felt.

Dean's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

Cas nodded. "Yeah."

Dean grinned and pressed a swift kiss against Cas's lips. "Nice going, me."

"Right, nice going, destroying everything I thought was a given in my life," Cas growled against Dean's mouth, which only made him chuckle and kiss him harder.

When they separated, Cas was gripped by a sudden urge, which he gave into- he raised a slim finger and touched it lightly in between Dean's eyebrows, slowly tracing a line down Dean's freckled nose.

Dean shivered.

Cas tapped the tip of Dean's nose lightly and removed his hand, grinning. "So you turned down Jo and Harper for me?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I knew you were going to use that against me forever."

"Sure will."

That night, they talked until long, long after the bus had begun its trek to Jackson, Missouri. This time, they discussed personal things- far more personal than they would ever have discussed before. But now, they somehow felt safer around one another. More trusting. More open. So they talked of their hopes and their nightmares, their ghosts and their fears. What they'd planned for their lives and what had actually happened.

Eventually, both drifted off in the middle of a pause in between sentences, each to dream about the other.

Life finally made sense.

Okay, okay, did you guys actually think that after dragging you through nine chapters of Unresolved Sexual Tension that I WOULDN'T make them be together?

COME ON.

Anyway, yes, chapter 10. Sorry I posted this so late in the day- my WiFi was being wonky this morning.

So here it is, featuring a total cop-out on my part (I foresaw the awkwardness, you see, and instead had Cas wake up late, because you can't just swing back into normal life after getting drunk for the first time in FIVE YEARS OMG so yeah) with Dean not being there and THE LONGEST MONOLOGUE I HAVE EVER WRITTEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE GOSH WOW IT'S LIKE MORE THAN TWO PAGES LONG?

So please review, because I really need to know what y'all think before I can write more. Yesplsthx. And if you're reading this, that means you've stuck with this dumb story of mine this far, and I love you for it. Thank you so much. I appreciate each and every single one of my readers.

Thanks a bucket, guys, and see you in six or so days!