Dean stood still for he didn't know how long, staring at his door.

Well. That was... unexpected.

He gently touched his lips, then smiled. So it really wasn't one-sided.

That was... something, at least. True, Cas had bolted, but they were going to see each other tomorrow...

To find a criminal, but still.

So he could keep Cas from being harassed because he owed a gambler money.

While his uncle was dying in the hospital.

Man, this was fucked up. Then again, why was he surprised? This was his life, after all.

But he was still confused. Very, very confused.

And so he did what he usually did in these situations.

He called his brother.

Only when he glanced at his watch did he realize how late it was.

Sam was once again studying late. Thankfully Jess understood and never commented on his staying up – except for that one time, when he hadn't really realized how late it was.

Until lunch.

He also liked the fact that Dean often called at night. It was not easy, living so far away from his brother – in fact, one of the things he liked forward to the most was moving back into his vicinity – and he loved hearing from him.

Especially since Dean had had a kind of date. Sam knew he was lonely, even though he would never have admitted it, with not only him but Dean's closest friends having moved.

His phone rang just when he had decided that he could not read another page without getting a headache.

Dean was about to hang up, berating himself on behaving like a girl when it came to a cute boy, when Sam answered.

"Hey."

"Hi, Sam. Sorry, I know it's late – "

"Dean, I've told you again and again that it's no trouble."

It truly wasn't.

His brother was silent for a moment.

"Dean?"

"Let's say a girl – or a guy, you know I'm not picky – "

He wondered if Dean had forgotten he had a pretty solid idea who he was talking about.

"Let's say they give you mixed signals."

"Mixed signals?"

Dean always insisted that he should be the one looking after Sam, but this did nothing to curb his own protective instincts, which were rearing their ugly head. If mixed signals meant that guy hurt him in any way –

"Yeah. I tried to kiss him when we woke up – not like that, it's a long story, but anyway – he bolted. Then he came to apologize and was all cute and blushing and stuff, and when we said goodnight, he kissed me. And bolted again."

"That are mixed signals" Sam admitted.

"See? I mean, I know he's under a lot of stress, with his uncle and the other stuff – "

"What other stuff?" he asked immediately. Dean had the habit of throwing himself right in the middle of things when he was convinced he could help. He still shuddered at the memory of Dean trying to help Benny. True, that had worked out in the end, but still.

"Calm down, mum. He just needs to find someone and doesn't know how to track him down. It's easy as pie."

"If you say so. But you'll call if there are any problems?"

"Call the lawyer if I get arrested. Check."

"Dean..."

"Nah, Sammy, it's all gonna be alright. Don't worry about me."

But he did worry. He always worried. He hoped Dean wasn't crushing on a criminal. That thought had been scary enough when he'd had suspicions about his brother and Benny, thank you very much.

"Alright. So – you and this – Cas – you think –"

"Oh, no. Not going there."

"Why not? You tease me with Jess all the time –"

"Because you two are disgustingly cute. Anyway, it was one kiss and he left before I could get my moves on."

Sam snorted.

"Now who's sharing too much information?"

"Whatever. Go back to studying, you freaking nerd."

"Goodnight, Dean."

"Bye, Sammy."

They hung up. At least Dean wasn't alone, now that his neighbour was in the hospital. Sam couldn't deny that he hoped Cas would stick around, even if that meant his uncle stayed sick. Dean was helping him with some stuff, yeah, but it didn't necessarily follow that he was in danger. And Dean was good at finding people. Their upbringing had made sure of that.

James couldn't believe he had done that. What in heaven's name had possessed him to kiss Dean? He was beautiful, yes; he was kind; and James was lying to him through his teeth.

And now Dean would think...

"Why?" he mumbled. "Why did you do it?"

Of course he knew why. But that didn't mean he'd stop asking himself that any time soon.

Dean's lips had been so soft, so welcoming. If he had stayed, then perhaps...

No. He could never have stayed. To make him believe that he slept with someone who didn't even exist...

And now he had thought about sleeping with Dean. Wonderful. It was official.

"You're a vile human being" he spat, then let himself slump on the sofa. "And now you're talking to yourself. Wonderful."

And tomorrow he had to allow Dean to drive him to the lake and speak to the old man so that he could locate Langleben. Which he wanted to do. He absolutely wanted to find him.

No, he realized, his heart sinking. He didn't. He really didn't.

Kissing Dean had been bad enough, but now, in his heart of hearts, he really didn't want to be old again. He wanted to stay young. He wanted to stay with Dean.

Didn't he deserve someone? He had already spent a lifetime looking for a partner, someone he could spend years with, someone he could lo-

But he hadn't found them. He had been meant to stay alone, and no matter how right it felt to be with Dean, it wasn't. It would never be right. He couldn't tell him the truth; if Dean was developing feelings for him – and he really really shouldn't have hoped he was – he wouldn't fall for the real him, the one he had met countless times without realizing. He would fall in love with an act, a lie. James couldn't let that happen.

He didn't know Patrick Langleben. He had no idea what sort of person he was, but even though he was most likely a criminal, he didn't deserve death.

And of one thing he was sure.

Dean didn't deserve to be lied to.

He had to keep his distance. It wouldn't be easy, but once they had the information, he would find Langleben on his own. Dean would return to his nice, uncomplicated life without de-aged neighbours forcing him to chase after criminals.

He went to bed. When he finally fell asleep, he fell into vague dreams of green eyes and full lips.

Dean got up at seven when he found he couldn't sleep anymore, his mind still reeling. Cas had kissed him. Cas must want him, then. But Cas had run off. Maybe he thought he'd come on too strong? Dean shook his head at the thought. He was sure he had given off all kinds of signals that he would have nothing against getting to know him better – well, biblically. Although he had to admit this was much more, could be much more. Cas was just such a freaking catch he couldn't really imagine him going for Dean for longer than one night. That would be okay too.

Well, alright. Not exactly. But when Cas returned home, he could at least say he had had that in his bed, right?

That wasn't going to cut it, not with Cas, but at least he could pretend and deal with that later. Once he'd got the guy out of this scrape, they could figure this out (and well, hopefully – but that was for later) before he had to leave again.

When James...

He really hoped Cas would get to see his uncle, at least. And if he could, he really wanted a chance to say goodbye, too.

Preferably without letting him know that he had been ill-advisedly hitting on his nephew since he arrived. That might not fit the goodbye he hoped he and his friend could have.

As good as it could be, anyway, with James dying and all. He sighed. It must be awful to be lying around waiting for death, no one there for him. Hopefully they kept him under enough meds, so he didn't feel any pain.

That had been one of the few good things about his Dad's death. At least it had been quick, one swift fall down a bottle in the end, simply surrendering to unconsciousness.

Dean shook his head. Thinking about that never led to a nice place, and he needed to have his wits about him today.

They were after all going to visit a criminal.

Get a grip, Winchester, he told himself as his doorbell rang. What is the worst that could happen?