AN: I love you, guys. You guys know that right? So here is chapter 10! I know, I know. Very delayed. I'm trying though. A few chapters more and this baby is finished. I promise some Sam and Jess and Gabe on the next chapter! And I really don't know if I would be changing the rating for this story. You'll find out at the end why.

Accounting sucks.

And a big thanks to my lovely friend, ilanitaliaXD, for beta-ing and providing feedback for this chapter. I'll be working soon on chapter 4, dear!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Puzzles

Chapter 10: Roller Coaster

Dean wasn't as prepared as he thought when he knocked on Cas' door that Thursday night.

Especially when a perplexed, barely civil Gabriel opened the door.

"Were you supposed to go out tonight?"

That was kind of complicated.

See, in Dean's mind, they were supposed to go out tonight. Everything was set. The location, his baby, hell, he even had thought of topics to talk about even if he knew he didn't have to because a.) Cas would likely just stare at him all throughout the date and b.) oddly, he was okay with that. So really, all he needed was Cas' ass on the passenger seat.

Which brings us back to why it was complicated.

It was complicated, well, because Dean, with all his mental preparations and mild paranoia, hadn't really thought that maybe, just maybe, Castiel would be out himself that night.

"He's not home, isn't he?" Dean asked with a distressed look.

"Nope," Gabriel answered, stressing the p for no obvious reason. "Went out. Don't know where."

"Huh," Dean commented, a small frown creasing into his face. "Any ideas where he might be?"

"I really don't know, Dean-o. Lil' bro over here, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled, disgruntled over the fact that the night didn't start out as planned. "Thanks, uh, Gabe." He said awkwardly, giving his state of undress a brief glance.

"No problemo." Gabriel saluted offhandedly.

"I'll just—yeah." Dean walked away. Dragging his feet towards the Impala, his mind raced about the possible places he might find Castiel. He was tempted to call Sam and ask where nerds might be at this time of the day but immediately realized his stupidity. Sammy was at home. Castiel wasn't.

He sighed and went inside the Chevy. He made a mental note to avoid impromptu visits in the future and his mind angrily supplied that this was all Sam's fault.

"Dad died and you're suddenly… suddenly all rainbow and happy."

"I just want to make sure you're sure about this. Cas—Castiel isn't… You can't just and make him an experiment."

He wasn't. He really wasn't. Nothing had made him felt so surer than Cas. And Dean wasn't stupid enough to consider their relationship a mere whim. He'd lost a lot of things, a lot of opportunities because of his own issues and he was resolved to never let that happen again anymore. Sam should know that. Everyone should.

So he looked for Cas.

And it turned out that Cas wasn't really hard to find.

Not when he was in Dean's favorite strip joint.

It was the third place Dean checked out, and even before entering he knew it would be futile. It was around the area so it didn't hurt to stop by and actually try to look and it would probably be amusing and disturbing at the same time to find the usually-stoic man here. But when he spotted that familiar mop of messy hair, the first thing he actually felt was relief.

He approached the man who was seated in a table on the far back of the place.

"Cas," He smiled. "Finally found you."

Cas' eyes widened when he saw him, something very akin to a deer-in-the-headlights look that made Dean suddenly remember where he was, that he was in a strip joint, and the goofy smile instantly disappeared from his face.

Cas was in a strip joint.

Fuck. It's just been a few days, a week at most and Cas was already in a strip joint.

"Dean," The other man said, and Dean reveled at the fact that he was so attuned to the man's voice that he could easily hear him amidst all the noise. "Take a seat."

Dean frowned but did as he said. "So," He pretended to look around. "A strip joint. I gotta tell you, Cas. You didn't seem the type."

"The type?" Castiel squinted at him, then turned to look at the stage. "What do you mean?"

Dean followed his gaze but could only see a couple of scantily clad women. What was he even expecting? "Y-yeah. You know, the type to visit dens of iniquity."

"I go here every week," Castiel supplied in a matter-of-fact voice.

"O-oh. Right." Finally dropping all pretenses that he wanted so badly to know, he asked, "Why is that?"

"I—" "Clarence!"

One of the barely dressed dancers came to the table, swooping a kiss on Cas' cheeks. Dean felt something dark bubble in his stomach and his throat suddenly felt dry.

"Meg," Castiel said her name with a smile. He didn't look the least flustered with her kiss. What the hell was going on?

"Took you long enough to visit me, Clarence," The stripper drawled. She sat beside Castiel and Dean was momentarily forgotten.

Clarence?

"I apologize. I have been… busy."

"Busy?" The woman called Meg pursed her lips. "Of course you are, darling. You're a tax accountant."

Dean could only stare as they interacted, his stomach churning unpleasantly. There was a bad taste in his mouth and he wanted to leave. Goddamnit, he didn't even know what his job was and this—her—Meg knows and called him darling.

He cleared his throat before he could stop himself.

Meg looked at him like he was badly suffering from constipation and he was suddenly tempted to say, "Go on, don't mind me, keep yourself plastered to my…" My what, exactly? They weren't together. Not yet, as far as Dean knew. Castiel was still free to…goddamn. He just really wanted to leave.

"And, uh, who is this man?" Meg asked the blue-eyed man.

Castiel looked at him with a strange face and answered, "This is Dean. He is my…" He trailed off, frowning at himself. Meg started to frown too as she looked between both men, waiting for Castiel to finish his statement.

And because Dean is the ever self-harming, masochist who is full of insecurities, he saves the man and piped in, "Friend! I'm Dean, Cas' friend. Yes! That's me." His voice came out forced and squeaky but it hardly mattered compared to what he was feeling.

Castiel continued to look at him in the strange way and Dean just stared back, the confusion and hurt obvious in his eyes.

It was Meg's turn to clear her throat.

"Ah, yes, friends." She exclaimed and there was a change in her demeanor. She stuck her body even closer to Castiel's. "I suddenly remembered when I first met you!" Her voice was now a note higher and she was talking solely to Castiel and pointedly ignoring Dean. "You were new to this place all confused and looking like a flasher. Probably was your first friend, huh?"

"You were." Castel affirmed, oblivious to the fact that she was provoking Dean.

"Hmm, see that, Dean? I was his first friend!" She turned to him, her smile with a smug undertone that made Dean unconsciously grit his teeth.

"That's nice." He forced out.

"Yes." Castiel nodded, totally in agreement. Meg turned back to Castiel and engaged him in an animated reminiscing about "their past", totally omitting Dean from the conversation.

Dean didn't know what to think. Or feel for that matter. He felt so left out, finally knowing what it felt like to be a third wheel and although Castiel spared him worried looks once in a while, it didn't help Dean from thinking downright melancholic thoughts.

Suddenly, Castiel interrupted Meg in the middle of her sentence, which the latter didn't take too well, finally realizing just how broken Dean looked at that moment. A thin hand reached out and placed itself on top of Dean's clasped ones, surprising the mechanic. "Are you okay, Dean?"

Said man flushed as Meg simply gave a resigned smile at the display of affection, as if she knew what was going on between the two all along.

"Yeah." Dean mumbled.

"Well," She removed herself from being plastered to Cas, "Next round is about to come up. I'll have to leave you boys on yourselves. Enjoy my next dance, Clarence." She winked at the man, and this time, Castiel did blush.

She stood up, and Dean didn't have the strength left to glare at her and contented himself with simply following her with his gaze. She stopped by his side, bent down and whispered, "Two things. $300 tip or room 541 at the downtown motel. Now guess which one is true, green eyes."

Dean's eyes widened at this and he looked up to see her give him a final smirk and move away, her hips swaying deliciously. Now that he had a proper look at her face (and body), she did, in fact, look familiar.

Dean blanched.

No way.

"Dean," The man opposite him squeezed his hands. "You're not looking well. Maybe we should go?"

Dean licked his lips and tentatively looked at the stage. "That's… actually a good idea, Cas. But, uh, how about Meg? Wouldn't she want you to uhm, wait for her?"

"I am sure she will understand," Castiel reassured him, withdrawing his hand.

"Yeah, okay," Dean nodded. "Let's go."

Outside, the fresh air did nothing to quell the thoughts that were playing on his mind, the confusion that consumed him and that bit of hurt that he nursed. He felt like he was four again, in the cabin alone with a wailing Sam and a mother that never came back. And he hated it. Hated that Cas could illicit such reactions from him, resurfacing the feelings he buried years ago along with his mother.

Cas made him realize just how much he didn't truly love Lisa and how much he thought he did. Because if being with Cas was like this, a frigging rollercoaster of emotions, then the only thing that he and Lisa really shared was a bed.

"Dean?" Castiel was now really worried about the mechanic. Given that they were usually quiet when they were together, it wasn't this quiet. Nor was there any of this tension.

"Cas," Dean finally said, sitting on the edge of a long plant box, and placed his head on his hands. "You can't do this to me, man."

"What am I doing to you, Dean?" Castiel asked softly, sitting beside him.

Dean revealed one eye to look at Cas. "Like this man. Make me feel hot one moment and then cold all of a sudden. Make me confused and… I don't know," And he mumbled something so soft that Castiel wasn't able to catch it.

"Make you feel what?" Castiel gripped his elbow lightly, egging him to go on.

"Vulnerable," He acquiesced, removing his face from his hands. Looking directly at blue orbs, he bared himself and continued, "You make me feel so vulnerable, Cas."

"Is that a good thing?" Castiel's hand moved from his elbow to his bare arm and Dean shifted closer.

"Yes. No. I really don't know," He chuckled. "I guess it depends."

"Maybe," Castiel leaned closer, his breath now tickling Dean's neck and making his hair at the back of his prickle. "We should find out."

"You're doing it again." Dean groaned, aware of the warmth rapidly spreading through his body.

"What?"

"Making me feel all hot and flustered." Dean pointed out, still baffled on how Castiel could easily make him bipolar.

"I can do better." And suddenly the man was pressing a kiss against his skin and Dean shuddered, closing his eyes just to open them again in shock when he realized this was actually sweet, innocent Castiel who was propositioning him.

"Wait—are you—were you drinking before I came?" He placed a hand against Castiel's chest and pushed him lightly to look at his face. Now that they were no longer under dim lighting, he could see that the other man's face was flushed.

"Maybe a little."

"A little, my ass." Dean snorted as Castiel invaded once more what was left of his personal space. He placed both of his hands on Castiel's opposing shoulders and pushed him away again. "As much as I like where this is going, I think I'm more concerned about the fact that we're in public, that I'm still upset and that you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk." Castiel protested though he let Dean manhandle him to the car.

"Come on now, Dionysius, inside we go." Dean instructed after he opened the car door of the passenger seat so that the inebriated tax accountant could go in.

"You're flattering, Dean, but I'm not a Greek god." Castiel reminded him.

"I know that Cas," Dean said exasperatedly from outside. He went to the other side and sighed. He stayed there for awhile, just thinking.

As much as he wanted to move things forward with Cas, he knew for a fact that they weren't officially together yet and that he really didn't want Cas to regret it the morning after when he realizes that everything happened because he was under the influence of alcohol. What more is that Dean didn't want Cas to feel that he had been taken advantage of.

Although Cas wasn't really that drunk, just bordering on tipsy to be honest, Dean wanted the both of them to be sober for their "first time", a true testament to the sincerity of his intentions to the man.

Take that, Sam! He thought triumphantly.

He opened the car door, already decided, and sat—only to be subjected to probably the most intense gaze he had ever been under. Like Cas wanted to tear him apart, eat him alive or whatever arousing sadistic brutality his mind could supply.

Dean gulped and started the engine.

He just hoped he could survive the night with his chastity intact.

A/N: There we go! What do you think? There's this study where reviews have a direct relation with the speed of updates. Just saying. Leave me your thoughts! Preferably, written. Lots of love.