Dean knew that wasn't going to make the look go away. That sad, pained look in those eyes that shouldn't have been anything other than overflowing with joy. But he would have been kidding himself if he'd said he didn't see some relief in them.

'Then why did you say … the other night …'

'Because I thought it wouldn't mean anything to you.'

Dean realized, now, why Castiel had been so hurt. Because it would mean something to him. Of course it would. He was such a fucking idiot. He had always been such an idiot. He needed to stop already, but it was in his nature.

That was why Cas had said no when Dean, on a whim, had attempted to kiss him. Because Cas had thought it wouldn't mean anything to Dean. Because Cas knew Dean was the type to kiss someone, to do something with someone, without it meaning a damn thing.

Cas had probably thought Dean was jealous that Piper was getting some, so he decided to try his luck with the easiest target. Jesus Christ. Dean was blind.

'It would,' Cas said clearly. 'Of course it would. It's like you don't know me at all.'

'I do know you,' said Dean. 'I do. Or I try. I just don't understand.'

'What is there to understand?' Cas said desperately, 'I need you too. I love you too. I don't know how it happened, or why, or when, but I do and it feels like I always have, even before I knew what it meant.'

'You still deserve better,' Dean whispered. 'You deserve so much better.'

'I don't want better.' Castiel felt something wet leak from his eye. 'I want Dean Winchester.'

'Please don't cry.' His voice cracked. 'Don't you dare fucking cry.'

Dean was very convincing, with his own eyes started to leak like some stupid broken tap that leaked more the tighter you screwed it. And then they were both sobbing and it was the most painful thing either one of them heard. Years of pent up emotions, happiness, sadness, anger, guilt, jealously, pain, longing, need and so much more just came pouring out. It wasn't the first time Dean had cried over Castiel, but this was the first time Castiel had cried over Dean Winchester.

He needed to be touched, to be held, and Dean was there. Dean had always been there. He'd just been too ignorant to see it. But Dean was here now and he was safe, safe in Dean's arms, safe for the first time since he'd laid a hand on him on hell and that was all that mattered. Dean. It was always Dean. It would always be Dean. Of course it was Dean.

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but Castiel's sobs subsided and his tears became silent. And Dean's arms were still there. His warmth was still there. He was still there.

Castiel wished, for once, that the human thing of sleep would take over. He wished he could fall into unconsciousness right here and right now, because the rush of pent up emotion that had been building inside him for years had finally been let out and he felt lighter than he ever had. He felt small and he felt vulnerable and he felt like that was okay, he knew that was okay, because that's what humanity was all about. Dean had managed to teach it to him after all.

Cas sat up, but Dean was still holding onto him. Dean's eyes were closed. The freckles on his eyelids were one of the most glorious thing Castiel had ever seen. His eyes even more so when hey flickered open at Cas's movement.

'Do you feel better now?'

'Yes.'

'Me too.'

Their smiles were shaky, their faces still damp but rapidly drying, and Dean's nose was running according to how much he was sniffling. But Castiel did feel so much better now. The relief he felt so go it was almost a physical thing, he could feel the pressure leaving his body. It was like bliss.

'So what now?' Castiel asked, steadying his voice back to its usual manner of steadiness. 'What do we do now that we've … what did we just do?'

Dean couldn't help but laugh at the adorkable angel in front of him. Huh. Adorkable. That was new. The dork part wasn't, but the adorable part was – at least it was new of him to acknowledge it.

'I honestly have no idea,' Dean admitted. He glanced behind him at the still open laptop, the screen now dark. 'Grey's Anatomy?'

'Yeah, okay.'

Simple as that.

They were much more comfortable now, though. Dean put the laptop on the bedside table and he lay on his side behind Cas, who also lay on his side but a little lower down so the top of his head was just beneath Dean's chin. Dean's arm was over him, strong and unmoving, sort of like Alex Karev's bold attitude. Those around him felt it strongly and he wasn't about to change any time soon.

So that's why Cas liked Alex so much. He was bold, unchanging, but had some much potential for development. Just like Dean. Except Alex was much more of an asshole.

So they hadn't drank anything in the minibar and Dean hadn't seen any of the highly embarrassing pictures from the trip with Sam, but this was good too. This was better. Feeling Dean's heartbeat against his back and hearing his breathing quieten when he eventually fell asleep was better any day. Cas didn't dare move the whole night in case he woke Dean, who seemed like he was sleeping easy for once. If Castiel himself required sleep, he knew he would be sleeping easier than he had ever slept. An enormous weight had been lifted from him and he knew things would just keep getting easier from now on.

Until somewhere, something in Cas's head clicked, and everything inside him changed.

When Dean woke up he was momentarily confused as to why his eyes hurt and why he had his arm draped across someone until he realized that someone was Cas. That was cool. Cas was cool. He and Cas were cool.

Dean said up with a groan and Castiel sat up at last. He looked back at Dean wordlessly as Dean stretched. He was unsure of whether the night had seemed long or short. He'd been trying not to think about it. Episodes had passed and so had thoughts about the episodes, along with one thought always behind the ones in his conscious mind.

Dean loves you.

But what does that mean? The conscious thought would always follow.

Well, clearly it meant that they could lay on a bed together in a position Cas was almost certain was called "spooning". Pre-"I love you" Dean and Cas would never have done that. It had taken two fumbly, "I'm fine on the chair" sessions of them watching Netflix together for Dean to actually accept Cas's offer to both sit on the bed and another two incredibly brief sessions, brief being twenty minutes or less, for him to accept Cas's offer of sharing a blanket.

And then the night of their first proper binge together happened, sharing a bed and sharing a blanket and Dean had, out of nowhere, almost kissed Cas in the middle of Orange Is The New Black and promised him it wouldn't mean anything. Cas remembered pushing Dean away as he continued trying, grabbing Cas's face in his hands, until Cas's third 'Dean, no' got through to him leaving him irrationally angry, making him leave in a rage.

And last night the l-word happened, tears happened, and it seemed like they could do anything.

And now it was morning, and Castiel was wondering what exactly it all meant and then suddenly if it was weird that he was watching Dean stretch with a moderate interest in his movements.

'What time is it?' Dean asked, his voice thick with sleep.

Castiel checked the time on Dean's laptop, still open and playing, just before he paused it.

'A little after nine,' Cas replied.

Dean moved himself to the edge of the bed and leaned forward, blinking, his eyes adjusting to the light. He was awake, but not awake awake yet. It always took him a minute, like his brain had to finish loading or something along those lines. Once it was fully loaded, he looked at Cas and said one word.

'Shoes.'

Cas replied with the stupidest fucking thing he could have possibly come out with.

'You love me how?'

Apparently his brain, while on the surface was taking in and watching Grey's Anatomy, had been very busy all night, like it was waiting for Dean to wake up so they could talk when they were both calm and collected rather than desperate and sobbing.

'What?' Dean asked, taken aback by the sudden and blatant question.

'I mean what kind of love?'

'Dude. Let a guy wake up and clear his head first, would you?'

'But I need to know,' Cas pleaded, moving right up next to Dean and facing Dean's side, since Dean was still sitting facing away from the bed. 'what kind? The appreciative kind? The familial kind? Or,' and here, he knew he may be asking a stupid question considering past occurrences, 'the kissing kind? Or some other kind? I don't understand.'

Maybe his brain telling him they could discuss it while they were both "calm and collected" was badly timed. Cas was still desperate and Dean was still groggy.

Dean turned his head to look at Cas and the angel's worry was evident. Maybe they shouldn't have stopped their discussion where they had last night and talked it through. It was clear to Dean that Castiel had been waiting several hours for this.

What kind of love did he feel? He didn't even like the word, but it was a good question. He did appreciate Cas, he did consider him family, but he did want to kiss him too. He often found himself accidentally staring at Cas's lips, or checking him out, or thinking thoughts he didn't usually think about his friends.

He also knew that "the kissing kind" was most likely a synonym for another word Dean disliked that began with an "r". That kind was something Dean wasn't as experienced with as others, but whenever he had acknowledged it with anyone in the past he wasn't completely clueless. He just wasn't big on the "r" stuff.

'The kissing kind, I guess,' Dean decided. Seeing understanding and some calm now in Cas's eyes, he asked, 'so can I go shower now or what? I think I have a food hangover.'

'Go,' Castiel urged. 'I'll just wait here.'

Dean nodded and headed for the bathroom. Castiel watched him go and stared at the closed bathroom door for a while.

The kissing kind. Obviously. Since Dean had tried to kiss him once. But what did that mean? Cas was starting to frustrate himself now with all the questions he had and all the clarification he needed.

Yes, the kissing kind meant kissing. Then why hadn't there been kissing since what they could only call their confessions? Or was Cas supposed to initiate it? Or what? It just got even more confusing when he thought about the fact that as far as he knew, Dean was heterosexual. And as for himself? What the hell was he? Did he want to kiss Dean? Maybe. Probably. Okay, definitely. But was it just Dean, or did he want to kiss other people? Yes. He'd thought about it before. It's not like he was just discovering the activity.

Alex Karev was pretty. He wouldn't mind kissing Alex. Or George. Or Derek. Or Connor Walsh from How To Get Away With Murder. Oliver looked like he enjoyed it anyway.

But now he had to consider: did he want to kiss anyone female? Kissing Meg had been weird. An experiment of his, just to see what it was like. He wouldn't want to do it again. But that was Meg. The demon. There were plenty of other women out there – like Izzie Stevens. He liked Izzie the best out of the female characters in Grey's Anatomy. She was nice and she was very pretty, but Castiel didn't feel like he would kiss her if he was given the opportunity. Or any woman that he thought of for that matter.

Figuring out who he wanted to kiss was scary. And he hadn't even dared approach the subject of wanting to kiss people of other gender identities. He didn't even know of anyone who identified as anything other than strictly male or female. Except maybe Ruby Rose from Orange Is The New Black who he had heard was gender fluid. But he didn't want to kiss her either.

Gender identities were confusing. Sexualities were confusing. The fact that he was supposed to figure out his own was confusing.

The kissing kind of love was confusing.

But he did love Dean. A lot.

And Dean was very pretty.

Just as Castiel had that thought, Dean appeared at the bathroom door with a towel around his hips and he got even more frustrated than he already was.

Dean wasn't pretty. Dean was hot.

Cas tried to focus only on the pretty, which was on Dean's face. Stare at his face. Just stare at his face.

'Hey Cas, I just had a thought – do you know what time they stop serving breakfast in this place?' Dean asked.

'I, uh, I don't know,' Castiel replied. Suddenly, he felt his face flush and an odd yet familiar stirring somewhere else. 'Would you like me to go find out?'

'Nah,' Dean said offhandedly. 'We'll just go out.'

Dean disappeared again and Castiel heard the shower turn back on and he could calm down slightly. So Dean had paused his shower just to ask a question? Couldn't he just have waited until he'd finished to ask?

Dean was confusing.

Cas stopped thinking about it altogether and turned back to Grey's Anatomy as a distraction. He wondered if maybe Dean would be open for discussing it and helping him out. Probably not. Sam, though, would probably help him out. Dean just didn't seem the type to want to discuss those kinds of things.

The relief Cas had felt from the events of the previous night was long gone. Of course he should have known it wouldn't last. Once one thing was sorted out, another thing always arose to mess everything up again.

Dean seemed to be a little more alert and in a better mood when he left the bathroom looking refreshed. For this, Castiel was grateful. Maybe by analyzing Dean's behavior he could try to make more sense of where they were at now.

What had last night meant?

Cas just didn't know.

'Cas?' Dean asked, sounding slightly confused.

Castiel looked at him.

'Yes?'

'Aren't you gonna get dressed?'

Castiel had been so lost in his own thoughts that he'd completely forgotten about that. He suddenly wanted to get away from Dean as fast as possible, which seemed completely insane since he'd wanted to be so close to him last night, not even moving so he wouldn't disturb him.

'Oh, yes,' Castiel said quickly.

He grabbed one of his shopping bags from yesterday and bolted into the bathroom, closing the door so fast he was lucky that it didn't slam.

Embarrassed. That's what he felt. Embarrassed about how much he'd probed last night and then about how much he shared and then about how much he cried. And he was embarrassed about how damn confused he was now.

Space cats and slim fit blue jeans and the hi-tops with the skulls. They all happened to be in the bag he'd grabbed in his haste and so that was the outfit he'd chosen. He tried to seem less flustered when he left the bathroom.

'Looking good,' Dean commented as Cas emerged.

But would he have said that before last night, though?

Of course he would have. He'd commented on Cas's appearance before. It's not like anything was different now. Dean Winchester loved him, he loved Dean Winchester and Dean Winchester knew that, but of course nothing was different.

'This feels …' super confusing because I have no idea how to act around you now but let's just pretend I'm talking about clothing '… odd.'

'Yeah, it's pretty weird seeing you dressed like that,' Dean agreed, looking him up and down with a half-smile.

'Is it too weird?' Meaning, is it weird for you too? Are you also over thinking everything? Or should we both be on the same page and I just don't understand because I don't think the same was as you do?

'Way too weird,' said Dean, nodding. 'But good weird. The kind of weird you can pull off and get used to.'

But what do you mean? Cas pleaded silently.

'Okay,' said Cas uneasily, hoping his apprehension wasn't as obvious as he felt like it was. 'So … breakfast?'

'Yeah,' Dean agreed, grabbing his jacket from the floor by his bed, or rather the bed he had intended to sleep in but didn't. 'Let's go. I think I saw an IHOP about ten minutes from here last night.'

'What's an IHOP?' And what's going to happen now? Any acknowledgement of what happened last night? Or of the position in which we watched Grey's Anatomy together and then you fell asleep? No? Okay.

'It's a breakfast place, Cas. Man, I've gotta educate you on places to eat. So are we going or what?'

He would have rathered Dean educate him on the "I love you."

'Yes, let's go.'

When they got to IHOP, Castiel was so overwhelmed by all of the options that he momentarily forgot his confusion and general unease that he couldn't seem to shake, but once he'd made up his mind on what he wanted he was right back to staring at Dean whenever Dean wasn't looking and trying to read him. Dean seemed to be acting the same as he had yesterday, or the day before, or on any given day really. It was beginning to get on Cas's nerves, but he refused to ask anything else about whatever was going on. He was just going to act as he would if it hadn't happened.

There was a shoe store less than five minutes from the IHOP they were at so they headed there straight after breakfast.

'What's your shoe size?' Dean asked on their way inside.

Castiel tried to recall, but he couldn't.

'I don't know. I've never shopped for shoes before.'

'Don't worry about it. We'll just check the size of the ones you're wearing when we get inside.'

Once inside, Dean discovered Cas's feet were bigger than his own which was something he'd never noticed up until now. That was interesting to think about … now they knew who had the bigger … shoes.

They got two pairs of sturdy boots that would most likely last years and not be worn down during whatever running or fighting or whatever else Cas would be doing in the future depending on what circumstances he got himself into what with wanting to hunt more with Sam and Dean and all. They also got two pairs of casual shoes for just doing whatever, plus, (God forbid, Dean thought,) a few pairs of converse that Cas liked the look of. They were similar to the hi-tops he'd gotten at Hot Topic, which he also liked very much. They did happen to look good on him, but the fact that they were what Dean often referred to in his head as "the shoes of ignorant youths and moody teenagers" was mildly horrifying to him.

He mentioned this to Cas on the way out, Cas frowned at him.

'"Ignorant youths"?' he quoted questioningly. 'That makes you sound very old, Dean.'

Dean glared at him but understood that it was a joke. Cas only half-smiled.

They decided that after the shoe shopping it was time to go back home, even though Dean seemed to want to stay. Cas would ordinarily have wanted to, and he did want to, but he also wanted to talk to Sam. And, if that failed, he wanted a while alone with Google which seemed to be a good source of information for a lot of things, so maybe it would do for this too.

They talked less on the drive back which gave Cas time to get started on the books he'd brought with him. Dean didn't ask about them. While reading, another part of Castiel's brain registered that Charlie would be a good person to talk to about what he needed to talk about and figure out. But he couldn't talk to Charlie unless he broke into heaven or something and that was obviously never going to happen.

So far, the first book in the series seemed interesting. Cas liked how this Katniss character seemed like she would do anything for her family. It reminded him of the Winchesters to an extent. The world of the Winchesters was as far from being like Panem as it could get, but if he analyzed enough as he read he was able to find ways in certain gestures or lines in the story for them to relate to the brothers.

Although Cas felt tense, the silence between him and Dean felt comfortable. He was still glad to have gotten all of what he said off of his chest, but he was still embarrassed about how it had come out. Yet still, Dean didn't seem to be. Dean was the hardest thing on the planet to understand.

When they arrived back, Cas's greeting Sam was rushed as he and all of his new things disappeared into his bedroom almost instantly, declaring he was going to put all of his stuff in his closet and dresser. Neither Sam nor Dean stopped him for which he was grateful. Now all he had to do was figure out how to get Sam alone. Usually it wouldn't be hard, but there was no telling what was going on in Dean's head right now so Cas wanting to talk to Sam alone might seem suspicious or it might seem completely normal. There was no telling and it was vaguely frightening.

When Castiel did finally emerge in pursuit of Sam, he was lucky to find him alone after he'd wandered around for a while. He encountered Dean along the way, when he checked the library. Dean was in there pouring over The First Book again.

'What are you doing?' he'd asked.

'Re-reading the stuff about the other victims,' Dean replied. 'I'm trying to see if there's a pattern or if there's any hints or anything else we can work with after Christmas.'

'I thought you were supposed to be taking a break over Christmas.'

'I thought so too. Sam told me to leave him alone while he attempted to blow up the kitchen, you were busy putting your stuff away and this was there so I just figured I'd give it a shot.'

'Sam's in the kitchen?'

'Yeah. Why?'

'I wanted to …' Cas hesitated. If he said "ask him something" Dean might get suspicious. 'help,' he finished lamely, then added, 'I mean, help with whatever Christmas activity it is that he's doing.'

'Good luck with that,' Dean said with raised eyebrows, looking highly amused.

'Thank you.'

The kitchen, thankfully, was messy but hadn't been blown up yet and Sam was in there with his laptop and it sounded like he was watching some video. There was a large raw bird beside the laptop, which Cas assumed was a turkey, but he couldn't be sure because he'd never seen a whole one raw before apart from in shops where they were in packages.

'Hey, Cas,' Sam greeted, barely letting his eyes flicker away from the video he seemed to be concentrating on.

'What are you doing?' Cas asked curiously.

'Trying to figure out how to stuff and cook a turkey. I bought six of them to practice on.'

'That's a lot of practice,' Castiel commented walking to stand across from him on the other side of the surface he was working at. He hesitated now, seeing that Sam was busy, but it's not like he was busy with something huge … and if Cas didn't do it now, he'd end up leaving it days and things would be incredibly weird. 'Can I talk to you about something?'

Sam, sensing the tone, paused the video he was watching and slowly closed his laptop.

'Sure, Cas. You know you can talk to me about anything.'

Cas hadn't actually known that, he'd just hoped it, but it was very reassuring to hear it. He wondered why his heart was beating so fast. He felt like he was building up to it inside himself and his mouth suddenly felt very dry, even though he knew that, as an angel, he didn't get thirsty.

'It's not something we've ever even touched upon before,' Castiel said seriously and steadily. 'And it's quite a … personal thing.'

Sam folded his arms, nodding.

'Okay. Hit me with it.'

Cas took a deep breath and decided to just get it over with. Like ripping off a band aid, pulling a knife out of his chest or, a better comparison being, asking Dean all of those questions he'd asked him last night.

'It's about sexual orientation.'

Sam looked briefly puzzled, or taken aback, or both. It took him a moment, but when he replied completely seriously in a non-judgmental manner, Cas felt a little better.

'What about it?'

'Well … basically … hypothetically … how would one go about … figuring out what theirs is?'

It wasn't in an unkind way that Sam asked, 'you mean yours?'

Cas nodded meekly.

'I'm indifferent to sexual orientation, but I'd really like to know mine.'

Sam smiled at him kindly, which calmed Cas down even more. It seemed as though Sam wasn't going to find this annoying, or stupid, or just plain odd, and Cas had been considering the fact that two grown men talking about this would be an uncomfortable topic for most.

'Why don't you sit at the table and I'll make coffee and we can have some mince pies and talk about this.'

'Mince pies?'

'Christmas stuff. I got some yesterday.'

Castiel nodded slowly and headed off towards the table. He watched Sam making coffee with an odd, cold feeling in his stomach. He was calm about the conversation to follow, yes, but he was still worried that if he worded things badly Sam might get the wrong idea. Cas didn't want to bring up the fact that it was Dean that had caused this confusion, or perhaps make Sam think Sam had caused it, because that was far from the truth. Castiel loved Sam also, but not the same way that he loved Dean. It was completely different. He saw Sam as family, he saw Dean as more.

When Sam put two mugs on the table along with a plate covered in small pies, he sat across from Cas and rested his elbows on the table.

'Eat. Drink. Relax. Tell me what's on your mind.'

Almost obediently, Cas picked up one of these "mince pies" and took a sip of his coffee before he bit into it. He had been expecting beef, as mince was generally made from cows, but it was some kind of fruit. He wasn't going to ask questions.

'I've been thinking,' Cas began, 'and trying to discover my own sexual orientation, but am finding it difficult to do so as I don't understand what all of it means.'

'What don't you understand?' Sam asked, sipping his coffee and surveying Cas curiously. 'Or, better, what do you understand?'

'I understand that there are people in the world who seem to think God thinks anyone who is not heterosexual is going to hell,' Cas began, 'but I also understand that is completely untrue. I understand that there are ignorant people who are uncomfortable with anyone who is not heterosexual, which seems to be the normal thing for most, but I don't understand why. And I understand that there are more than just heterosexual and homosexual out there, that there are a number of different sexualities, but I don't know what they are and that's where I begin to get confused.'

Sam nodded, listening intently. Cas felt a rush of affection for him.

'Well, first thing's first, it's way more complicated than just sexual orientation, but we'll get to that in a minute,' Sam started, folding his hands in front of him in a business-like fashion. 'First off you need to figure out if you experience sexual attraction, and if so, to what extent. Understand?' Castiel nodded, so Sam continued. 'So – sorry for the blatant question – do you experience sexual attraction?'

Cas thought over the question for a moment. He understood what it meant – basically, Sam had asked him if there were any people he wanted to have sex with. And for a long time, that answer would have been no. Castiel in the beginning didn't think about that kind of thing at all. He remembered that time Dean had taken him out intending to, as Dean would but it, "get him laid." At the time, he hadn't understood why, or had a particular interest in it, but now if he was in that situation he did think that he would like to have sex again if he were to die the next day.

'Yes,' Castiel answered confidently.

'So that rules out asexuality,' said Sam, nodding, mentally taking note.

'What's that?'

'It's when you don't experience sexual attraction.'

'Oh.' Cas thought it over. He could understand that. 'I think, perhaps, several years ago I might have been asexual. But I'm not anymore. Can that happen?'

'Anything and everything in this area can change with time,' Sam informed him. 'It can't change all at once, at least I doubt it can, but it can change slowly. Did you notice it happening or did it just … seem like it came up over night?'

Cas cast his mind back again. As time went on, yes, he did notice changes. The first time he'd maybe experienced sexual attraction was when he had discovered that porn movie or whatever it was. The pizza man and the babysitter. A brief thought had crossed his mind, thinking that maybe perhaps he would like to be the babysitter in that situation. And then Dean had spoken, and Cas had looked at him and felt an odd stirring and as he looked back at the screen, suddenly he had a "boner". And rather than wanting to be the babysitter, he suddenly wanted to know what it was like if he were to be the pizza man, but with Dean as the babysitter.

Oh God, thought Cas. He had a feeling he knew where his mind was going. He tried to pull it back from that direction.

It started to happen more after that. His Meg-kissing experiment had seemed to be an education. He didn't care for acting the pizza man with Meg as the babysitter, so had deemed that the end of it. Until the next time he looked at Dean for an extended period of time and noticed he had freckles on his ears and on his fingers and started wondering where else those freckles extended to, and then it was back.

Then as more time went on, it wasn't just Dean. He started to notice when people, all people, were attractive. And began to consider others in the babysitter position, just briefly, just a slight wondering thought. And then it was more than slight. Then, years later, with April, it was definitely more than slight. But with April he had been wishing she was someone else. He hadn't specified who in his mind, he just knew that April was attractive, but she wasn't someone he would ever consider for the roll of babysitter, or the roll she had just played in their intercourse.

Hell, he'd even considered Sam when he noticed the younger Winchester brother was pretty. But he valued his friendship too much to dare thinking about it. He'd feel too weird about it.

'It changed slowly,' Castiel decided. 'It took a long time. But I noticed it happening.'

Sam nodded again.

'And are you attracted to people often? Or rarely?'

Castiel thought again. It had been rare in the past, he knew that for sure, but now … there were many, many people he saw, even just passersby in the street, that he deemed attractive. And out of those people, the ones he got a better look at, there were some that he was attracted to on a purely aesthetic level.

'Often.'

Cas felt vaguely flustered admitting that. But Sam didn't seem to judge him for it.

'And are they just people you already have developed a bond with, or is it just … anyone?'

Castiel felt a little flurry of panic at the word "bond". But he didn't even have to think about it before replying with a simple 'no.' Though he did wonder how exactly Sam could think there were enough people that he had a so-called "bond" with to experience this "often". It was just … often and it was anyone.

'Okay, lastly, have you paid any attention to the gender of people you're sexually attracted to? We'll more onto other types of attraction in a moment, but this is purely about people you'd have sex with.'

Cas's face grew hot at the words and he couldn't look Sam in the eyes after he'd said those words, as Cas thought back yet again.

He had only ever kissed Meg and had sex with April and they were both attractive and he could see that yet no, those were two people he would not like to have sex with. There were many attractive people he would not have sex with, and most of them were female. There were some males that he wouldn't have sex with either because they were attractive but not … could he call it his "type"? But he did discover that, if thinking only of people who's birth sex and their gender identity were the same, it was just men he would have sex with. And, he supposed, if it was someone who was assigned female at birth yet transitioned to male later in life, depending on whether he found them attractive or not, he would probably have sex with those people too.

Cas didn't know why it was just men he wanted to have sex with. It just was. He felt a sudden wave of happiness wash over him upon discovering this.

'Sam,' he said, suddenly filled with a confidence and an odd sense of pride, 'I think I'm – no, I'm sure – that I'm gay.' He suddenly felt an urge to defend himself even though Sam hadn't even responded yet, and hastened to babble, 'I know I've never even … even … kissed a man before, but the thing is, you see, I –'

'Woah, woah, Cas, calm down,' Sam said, making calming hand gestures. Cas stopped talking, feeling suddenly nervous. 'Listen. That's great. That's really great.'

'It is?'

'Of course it is,' Sam said supportively. 'It's good that you know your own sexuality.'

'I just don't understand why I was confused about it,' Castiel said thoughtfully, frowning to himself. 'It seems so obvious now.'

'Maybe you were confusing sexual orientation with romantic orientation,' Sam suggested.

'What's that?'

'Romantic orientation as in … what genders you'd date but not have sex with. For example, some people who identify as gay are actually biromantic or panromantic because they wouldn't have sex with anyone of a different gender, but they could date them, fall in love with them and so on. And some people don't experience romantic attraction at all.'

'I feel like I have the ability to fall in love with anyone regardless or their gender identity,' Cas considered out loud. 'I mean, I love Meredith Grey and think Derek Shepherd is an idiot for leaving her and if I were him in that situation I know I would want to stay with her, to date her and to love her, but if it were me I personally would not have sex with her because, well, y'know. I'm gay.'

It was oddly satisfying to say the words.

'So you're panromantic if you feel like you can love someone regardless of gender,' Sam informed him helpfully. 'But it's up to you to decide what you are or what you want to call yourself. You can figure it out as you go along if you ever end up … with someone.'

Castiel nodded. He had a feeling who, if anyone, he would want to end up with eventually … it was Dean, of course. He understood now. He loved Dean romantically. And … if Dean had been honest with saying it was "the kissing kind of love" … then Dean and him could … maybe?

Now was not the time to think about it. He had to talk about that with Dean himself.

'Thank you, Sam,' Cas said sincerely, then inquisitively decided to ask, 'how do you know so much about this?'

'I looked it all up a few years back when, I, uh,' Sam looked down, laughing somewhat, 'I had this crush on a guy. I learned that I'm pretty sure I'm panromantic and pansexual. No big deal, though. I prefer women, but the rest is … there, I guess.'

Castiel nodded and stood up immediately.

'Thank you,' he repeated. 'Thank you.'

Sam stood up, laughing now.

'You're welcome. I'm gonna get back to the turkey now – wanna help?'

Cas shook his head quickly.

'No. Thank you. Maybe next time you practice – I have to go, thanks – thank you …'

Cas was out of the kitchen before Sam could reply. Still laughing at his friend's sudden burst of joy and feeling joy himself at the fact that he'd been able to help, he went back to his turkey, lowkey wondering if Cas's gratefulness would be any different if he knew that the guy that had caused Sam to look up all of this stuff was Gabriel. Probably not. Shrugging, he went back to the turkey tutorial video.

Castiel, on the other hand, was rushing through the bunker with his sights set on the library. He hoped Dean was still in there. Now he'd figured it out, figured all of it out, there was one thing he wanted to do, needed to do, that he was pretty sure he'd needed to do for years.

Dean was in the library still and he was staring down at The First Book with an odd expression Cas didn't have time to catch before it was replaced by one of surprise at Cas's sudden entrance, causing him to jump to his feet.

'Cas, there's –'

Cas cut him off.

'No. Don't talk.'

'But –'

The second time Castiel didn't tell Dean not to talk. He stopped him from talking. He strode across the room full of his new found confidence and grabbed Dean's face, stood on his toes just slightly to be at Dean's same height, and kissed him.

It was warm, and it was soft yet at the same time thanks to Dean's stubble it was scratchy. Cas had never thought about how it would feel to kiss Dean, or any man for that matter. He felt Dean's hands on his waist, steady, and felt Dean kissing him back. He didn't expect to be able to tell the difference between when he was kissing and when he was being kissed back, but he could definitely tell the difference, and he felt as though his heart would explode.

He didn't stop until he ran out of breath and he took a step back to see Dean's reaction. Dean's hands slowly dropped back to his sides and Cas was horrified at first when he saw Dean's reaction wasn't exactly a good one, but less horrified when he realized how morbid he looked.

This wasn't about the kiss. This was something that was in The First Book.

'What is it?' Castiel asked seriously, all other thoughts suddenly out of his mind.

'The fourth victim,' Dean said darkly. 'I think I know who the fourth victim is.'

'Who is it?'

'Crowley.'

Cas felt his face fall into almost an exact replica of Dean's. He knew this wasn't good news. He knew this wasn't bad news. He just knew this was … news.

'Well,' Castiel stated with a sigh, 'fuck.'