Chapter 12

invidia – Latin for Envy – "The pain caused by the good fortune of others" – Aristotle (Rhetoric)

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Dean sat in his car outside the house. He felt numb. This wasn't the first fight he had while in a relationship, and it wasn't his first fight with Cas. But it was the first fight while in a relationship with Cas. Add to that, this was Cas' first relationship ever, Dean's first with a man/angel, and Dean was a little screwed up about the whole butt love – well, that just added up to one big clusterfuck.

Everything was easier when he would just go to a bar, drink beer, flirt, and then go have hot string free sex. None of this touchy-feely crap to talk about, and more importantly, none to actually have think about. If he was going to stay sane, he should just go to a bar. Start with a few brews, break out the flirty smile, and…

Shit. He couldn't even lie like that to himself. Dean didn't want to sleep with any random women. He wasn't interested in anybody but Cas. And did Cas even get how fucking monumental that was? Did he even understand how earth shattering it was for Dean to want Cas for more than getting off with?

The Kiss. In his mind, the moment Cas pressed his innocent lips against Dean's had become The Kiss. There was life before The Kiss and life after The Kiss. Until today, life after The Kiss had been amazing. Like waking up and suddenly seeing color for the first time. It changed everything. And yes, he gagged a little when he thought about how damn sappy that sounded.

Dean had never even thought about guys or serious relationships, and certainly not both together. Now he was going steady with an Angel of the Lord – Well, he had been. Who knows what Cas was thinking about the status of their relationship right now? The crazy part of all this? Even though he had never thought about it before The Kiss, this was his perfect apple pie white picket fence life. Hunting with Cas, kissing, touching him every day, seeing Sam and Bobby, living in the run down old house that was the closest thing to a home he had ever known… That all added up to perfection for Dean. Oh, and beer. Beer was also part of the picture.

Now it was all in jeopardy because Dean was uncomfortable discussing butt love. Sam had said it was enjoyable, and as much shit as Dean gave to his brother, Sammy wasn't a lair.

It was just that pleasure hadn't been Dean's experience. Why couldn't Cas just be happy with hand jobs, maybe a blowjob and humping like there was no tomorrow? Felt pretty damn awesome from Dean's point of view.

He sounded like a girl. Maybe he should be Princess Deanna, future Queen of the Land of Midol.

What did Cas even want anyway? What the hell did Dean want? Honestly? Dean just wanted to hunt and lay in bed with Cas with room service and cheeseburgers with a few cold ones. They could take a couple of hot sexy showers, exchange messy blow jobs, and make out like teenagers. That sounded like an excellent vision of heaven to him.

So, as ass backwards as it was, Dean was being pressured into having sex before he was ready – if he ever would be ready. By an angel. Crap, next he would be starring in an after school special. Kids, be sure to never let an angel try and talk you into butt stuff if you're not ready!

Well, if Dean was going to keep Cas… fuck. He needed to follow Sam's advice and watch some gay porn. Or some research like Cas. He would never tell either one of them about that.

He would start tomorrow. Yep, tomorrow would be perfect. Not tonight. It was late and the internet was sure to be slow because it was kinda' cold outside. That sounded good enough for Dean. Tomorrow was soon enough.

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Cas hadn't been around in a few days. Since it had been unusually quiet on the hunting front, there had no real reason to call him down. And instead of bitching and making life miserable for everybody else, Dean had decided to get his hands dirty. It wasn't his usual go to of working on the cars or smashing the hell out of rusted out clunkers, but really getting his hands dirty by cleaning.

Bobby no longer picked up the house after the brothers jumped in the car, rushing to the next hunt; it had become clear that Dean and Sam could be slobs if given the chance. So Dean cleaned. He cleared the counters, scrubbed the floor, dusted the rooms, organized the books, and cleaned out the refrigerator. After the fourth time he emptied the vacuum canister, he was actually fairly disgusted that he had eaten a cookie from the floor last week. What the fuck was all this crap?

"Classic avoidance," Sam said from the doorway, leaning against it like a bitch.

"Or maybe classic 'Get your ass in gear and help, you lazy butt munch," Dean muttered. Yep. He knew he was avoiding his problems. It was a time honored tradition for him, and nobody was better at avoiding shit than Dean fucking Winchester.

"Whatever. Listen, I'll grab the trash on my way out. I was just coming to let you know I'll be back late tonight. I need to shake the cobwebs off and get out of the house for a bit. Why don't you take your apron off and come with?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, no. I don't really think so," Dean muttered while pulling the trash bag out and tying it off. "I'm not in the mood to get drunk."

"That's a first," Sam poked. Why did little brothers have to be so God damn annoying?

"Shut it, dude. Seriously - not in the mood for your shit right now," Dean wasn't in a bad mood per se – more like he was churning stuff around in his head. He had been putting off his… that whole research project and had promised himself he would start tonight.

"I have to do some research –," Dean stopped talking when he looked at the light in Sam's eyes. Crap. What the hell was wrong with his dork of a brother that mentioning anything remotely geeky sounding and it was like catnip to a cat. Weird shit.

"Great – I can help. We can go to the Roadhouse tomorrow night or something," Sam got that eat shit happy bright smile Dean only got when he was three sheets to the wind.

"You know what Sammy? I changed my mind," because no way in hell would Sam be helping Dean find out about gay lovin'. "A cold beer sounds perfect."

"Oh, okay. Maybe I can help when we get back then," Sam said sounding a little put out that he wouldn't be geeking out all night. Only Sam would be upset at having a beer instead of sitting in front of a computer or books all night.

"Yeah, sounds good," Dean lied. By the time they got back, he planned to either have Sammy drunk as a skunk, or he would think of some bullshit for Sam to look up. Maybe Sammy could look up how to fix that stupid leaking sink. One less thing for Dean to do.

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Dean had told him time and time again that he should not spy on people or look in their thoughts without asking. Cas had kept out of Dean's head since before he decided to first kiss him. It kept the 'playing field even' Dean said. Fine, Cas could respect that.

Well, Dean was sitting in a public place – so it was not exactly spying.

But now he watched his… was Dean even still his steady boyfriend? Did a fight mean they had broken up? What was the correct social protocol in these situations? No, Dean would have surely told Cas if they were broken up. He settled into a darkened corner and watched his boyfriend drink a beer while chatting with the slim blond bartender and Sam. There was no fear of being discovered; Cas had cloaked himself in-between dimensions.

As he watched, his thoughts raced. Why had a very pleasant date turned so foul so very quickly at the end? Did he even believe Dean would look for sex elsewhere? Or was it more fear? Fear that he would realize they shouldn't be together. That in the end, Dean could never love him.

Cas was not stupid; he knew Dean and Sam had talked about how odd and socially maladjusted he was in their world. In order to better fit in, he watched films, read books, and watched humans interact. Though human watching had been a hobby in the past, it became a serious study in the dynamics of sociobiology.

And still, Cas felt inadequate. He lacked that spark would enable him to interact with Dean in his world. It was exhausting mentally to always analyze every conversation as it was happening to see if he could find the social cues in time to respond correctly. What did he get for his effort? Derision. Eye rolls. Sometimes even 'Cas, shut up'.

Cas stood up and started to pace a small circuit in his empty corner – eyes never leaving Dean's carefree face. Casually tipping the bottle up to his lips with a smile for the strikingly beautiful bartender he was talking to. She was talking a lot it seemed. Her mouth never stopped moving, and even though it seemed mildly rude, Dean nodded along with her and occasionally interjected a comment that made her bark out a rough laugh before continuing on her tirade. Well, it may or may not have been an actual tirade. Cas was fairly sure he was beyond being fair about this situation right now.

Actually, he needed to step back and look at the big picture. For Dean, it did not appear to matter who he struck up a conversation with – anybody, anywhere. He could charm old ladies, middle aged men, animals, young children, and once a baby. There were even a couple of demons panting after him. He always knew when to do the right thing, say the perfect words, or run like hell.

The problem was not the woman who appeared to have a serious medical problem with her mouth moving all the time. It was not even Cas.

Dean.

Cas wanted to be like Dean. He wanted to have a conversation with a stranger and not get that odd, almost fearful look. He wanted people to not dismiss him because he was not as muscular as Dean, because to be honest, Castiel was the better warrior. He wanted to be charming and easy to talk to.

Cas stopped pacing and looked across the room. Just for once, he wanted Dean to feel what he felt. It would be interesting to see Dean try and live in Cas' world. Dean would never be able to fit in, never understand conversations, never connect to a single angel the way he would want to. How would Dean Winchester handle a life of caring for someone in whose world he could never fit?

And Father help him, Cas wanted Dean to feel it. The dejection and loneliness. The bitter taste of failure after failure. Cas wanted to rip the easy smile and charm out of Dean and make him socially awkward, but he would still have the beautiful face and remarkable smile. Even if Dean suddenly had to rely on a body more suited for holding a file folder than smashing skulls, he would still be amazing.

But, no matter. Wanting Dean to be less, himself more – all it came down to was Cas really wanting Dean to want him. Equal footing. Dean demanded Cas not use his powers in their relationship, but he never returned the favor. He was scared of what this all meant. Scared of never being enough for Dean

Cas winged his way outside the bar. His jealousy and resentment simmered in his belly; it was better that he leave now before he followed the infuriating anger to its conclusion.

For the first time in his existence Castiel understood why people did bad things in the name of jealousy and envy. His Grace shivered. The singing harmony of Heaven that surrounded him at all times sounded far off.

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It was not until much later that Castiel would remember the stories of that singing beginning to fade before Lucifer fell; by the time he did remember, the Heavenly choir was almost silent in his mind.

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Sociobiology is the systematic study of the biological basis of all forms of social behavior

Thank you Indigomyst00 for making sure I didn't embarrass myself with typos ;)

So, no smutty lemons in this one, but I have a fairly nice lemon tree growing near a cell tower in the next chapter that will soon give us many lemons!

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