Author's Note: Hello, readers! How are you doing? Excited for the second episode of Season Nine?

So, this chapter is one from Dean's POV, because you guys all want to see what he's thinking about the whole situation. (: I hope you enjoy!

I got so many reviews last chapter, oh my gosh! Twenty five! *gasps* You guys are all so lovely, wow. Honestly, I'm actually pretty shocked that so many of you are actually reading this! Ahh! (: The people on today's WALL OF FAME are amazing and lovely and I'm so grateful! Thanks, guys: more-profound-bond (I wondered if it was you last chapter, but I wasn't sure. :P I've changed it so it says your name.), tii-chan17, thefreespirit18, kat4543, 12crazythomas, lessien Amandil, BekaForEver, CanadaLover008764, jmcswim97, fortheloveofOTPs, ThreeFriends, NCISRoTGPJTMNTGRRATAT39CGAFAN, RealCharactersFakeWorld, MarilynNovak (that's not creepy, that's really sweet! Thank you so much!), Gustin azza, xBeautifullyxxShatteredx, Smiti, KahoriSaeko, Leana-Vine, Casismyfavorite, missiontothestars, jfkgotblownaway, manic the hedgehog, surrenderedwings and DTaddict! Thanks so much! (:

See you all on Friday,

~Rainbow Fruit Loop xx

~Praying for Redemption~
Chapter Twenty One.

Dean's POV

After Cas's startling confession about his brother's murder, Dean had found himself growing closer and closer to his roommate. It was as though the tearful confession had broken down the walls they both held so high, and the desire to see what Cas kept inside his castle was proving difficult to ignore.

Everything about Cas's past should have scared Dean; should have told him to turn around and leave and never come back, because such emotional damage was too much for him to cope with, but something… well, something had kept Dean from running.

Perhaps it was just Cas. Because, despite, all of his trauma, his pain, his wretched helplessness, there was something undeniably bright about him; a spark of burning white light that promised to transform into a fiery, passionate blaze. Dean couldn't help but to surround himself with all of the warmth - it was instinctive.

It was all so strange, upon reflection. A few months ago, Dean had been fine on his own. Sure, he had been lonely after Sam had gone off to Stanford, but it wasn't anything he couldn't cope with. But then up popped Cas, with his bright blue eyes and his tousled sex-hair and his habit of standing far too close, and Dean had just… let himself fall deeper and deeper into a pit he didn't want to think about.

Thinking about his feelings? Not something Dean enjoyed.

But he had to admit that things with Cas weren't what they used to be. Before Cas's breakdown, the line between friendship and romance had been strong; a clear, dazzling light that scared Dean, and kept him well away from even thinking about what life could be like on the other side. But now, the blinding light had faded, and Dean kept catching glimpses of a life he didn't know he wanted.

He could keep telling himself that the overwhelming urge to feels Cas's lips hot against his own was just because it had been a while since he had slept with someone, and that he'd have to be blind not to be attracted to Cas. And, anyway, it wasn't like he had ever claimed to be one hundred percent straight, so it really wasn't surprising that his every cell desired Cas's touch.

But… well, Dean wasn't exactly sure that lust was the only thing he felt for Cas. He had never been in love before, but he knew for certain that lust certainly didn't keep a person up at night, lying there thinking about what the future would be like with a certain person by their side. Lust didn't do that. Lust didn't make you dream about what could be if you were very lucky.

That was something that… love did.

"What movie do you want to watch, Dean?" Cas's gruff voice was loud in the apartment, and it jolted Dean out of his reverie. His eyes snapped upwards, and he found himself staring at a patient-looking Cas.

"I'm sorry, what?" Dean asked, his eyes flickering across the room to glance at where Sam was sitting, smirking like a brat. It was almost as though he knew what was on Dean's mind, the bitch.

"We want to know what movie you want to watch." Cas repeated, waving the DVD player's remote control in Dean's face. "We can't decide between a horror movie or a comedy."

Dean turned back to Cas, and shrugged, an easy grin lighting up his face and the sight of Cas's serious expression. Cas had a way of making Dean smile like no one else could. "I don't care. Actually, no, put on a comedy. I'm not in the mood for a horror."

"Okay. Are you all right, Dean?" Cas asked, as he went about putting the movie on. "You seem distracted."

"You look like you're actually thinking hard about something, which is a total shock." Sam piped up, chuckling under his breath as Dean sent him a glare. "What? You're the one who says 'shoot first, ask questions later' It's not like you to think about something first."

Dean rolled his eyes, and settled himself comfortably against the couch; shuffling over slightly to where he knew Cas would be sitting, just so that he could be that little bit closer. "Shut up, Sammy. Go get some popcorn, bitch."

With a bit of a dramatic eye-roll, Sam got up of the bright red beanbag he had found at some second hand furniture shop - God knows why Sam thought that the apartment needed a beanbag, of all things. "Jerk."

"Make sure it's extra buttery!" Dean shouted after his retreating form.

As Dean watched Cas fiddle around with the volume on the television, he thought about what Sam had said. Shoot first, ask questions later. It was true; that was a phrase that Dean usually followed. Do what you want, damn the consequences. It hadn't let him down so far, because things tended to work in his favour, in the end.

But Cas wasn't just a concept. He wasn't an idea that could be edited through trial and error. If, eventually, Dean figured out that his feelings for Cas were exactly that: true, honest feelings, then he couldn't just muck about, could he? He couldn't just kiss him and wait to see what would happen.

It felt like there was an angel on one of his shoulders, and a demon on the other. One side was urging him on, saying 'Oh, what's the worst that could happen? Cas could be disgusted with you and leave? That's not going to happen.' But, even if what he felt for Cas ended up being purely platonic, Dean didn't want him to leave. He didn't know how he would cope without his anxious, awkward friend by his side.

The other side, the more careful side, was telling Dean to wait. 'Wait and see what happens. Wait and see if Cas's behaviour around you changes. Wait and see if Cas feels anything towards you too. Just wait.'

That side made Dean think. What did Cas feel for him? Was it just friendship? Or was it something more? Dean hadn't forgotten the very first night the two had shared a bed, and how, in the morning, Cas had been all tangled up with him, a content look on his sleeping face. Did that mean that, subconsciously, both men wanted the same thing?

Dean regarded Cas with critical eyes. If there was something there, something happening between them, would Cas address it? Or would he keep it all locked up inside? Unfortunately, Dean had to admit that, if there was something that Cas felt he needed to say, he probably wouldn't. He would probably keep silent, which meant… well, it was up to Dean to shoot first.

"But you are okay, aren't you, Dean?" Cas asked after a few moments, all quiet concern and gentle eyes. "If there was something wrong, you would tell me, or Sam, wouldn't you?"

The urge to lean over and kiss Cas was getting far too strong. It was scary, how tempting it was to just touch him. The odd hugs they sometimes shared weren't enough, and Dean wanted to know just how much more he wanted - just how much more he was allowed to have.

"I'm fine, thanks, Cas." Dean answered vaguely, smiling his very best smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sam coming back into the room with a bowl of popcorn. "Now, let's get this movie started."

At some point during the two hour long movie, both Cas and Sam had fallen asleep. Sam was all curled up around the beanbag, his face peaceful and sleep-slackened against the cheap red fabric. Cas had fallen asleep slumped uncomfortably against Dean's side, and the mere touch of his warm body was making Dean tingle.

He had completely lost track of what was happening on the screen, but the protagonist was annoying, so it didn't really matter. He was just too absorbed in watching the gorgeous man by his side; the man who trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Dean had never had anyone, save for Sam, who trusted him quite as much as Cas did.

It was all quite confusing, but Dean didn't care. He was living life in the moment, and all he wanted right now was to feel Cas's fingers threaded through his hair; arms around his body. Dean, had, however, found that, at some point in the night, he had wound an arm around Cas's shoulders; holding him close, buried in all of the night's darkness.

Absentmindedly, Dean stroked his fingers against the sharp angles of Cas's collarbones, which had been exposed by his too-big shirt slipping off his shoulders. It was strange, to be touching Cas like he was, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach was surprisingly, dangerously pleasant.

After a few seconds, of quiet contemplating, Dean cast another quick glance at the still-sleeping Sam, and leant forwards to impulsively kissed Cas on the temple; surprising himself with his actions. He felt his face turning pink at the realisation of what he had just done, but he ignored it, and settled down against the sofa's cushions, preparing himself for a night dreaming of a man with bright blue eyes.

And, as Cas turned around in his sleep, and pressed his face into Dean's shoulder, mumbling something quietly under his breath, Dean vowed that soon - when they were both ready, and he figured out just what was happening in his head - he would do something about the irresistible temptation he had to kiss Cas properly.