I finally did it! I finally finished this chapter! Still not feeling great, but I think I know what's wrong now, and I've been making the effort to rest up as much as possible. I think it's worked, this is the first week in about two months that I've written more than 2k! I almost wrote that much today.

So, this is officially the last chapter, which kind of breaks my heart. But there is an epilogue, and a sequel, so I'm nowhere near done with this. I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has read this story. And a big thank you to those of you, who have commented: Swimstyle, Kaoticangel, LeeMarieJack, Karonkgb, Livthereader, Queenwoofy, VickyBaxter37, Wilow580, Morbidlyartistic, b3yondimaginations, FireAngel5683, Tcooper, hellabyss, Im-In-A-Shower, The Third Biker Scholar, JulesCapulet, MadWithMusic, PanoraDowns, LA Suka, airiesgrl, Breanna3593, UnleashYourInnerAssButt, and all the people I know who I've given this to for a quick read through to make sure I was on the path I wanted to be on, people like Lucie and Cynthia who deal with my irrational writerness with a lot of patience.

And especially GrammarDemon. She kinda started this whole thing, when talking to me about Cassandra Teal/Those Nephilim Days/Faith with a sentence that went something like "I love your style, but you always end the scene as it gets interesting. I want to see what happens next!" - I kinda wrote the first chapter as a way to prove to the both of us I could do it, and then the idea exploded. I thanked her yesterday and she thought I was being insincere. But writing this has taught me so much about the craft, even with my typos and plotholes, so I'm very grateful.

It's long, so I hope that makes up for the wait x It's too long for FF again, so enjoy the double upload!


Castiel sat quietly in the Impala as Dean wound his way across country to their destination. He was still amazed by the speed with which Dean had organised everything after they had agreed to go away together, and yet he felt a sense of disappointment. He wanted to show Dean all the things he had promised, that time they were laying in bed and Dean was asking him exactly what he wanted. The first time Castiel really thought there could have been more than just one date. He found himself gazing at the trees flickering by as he imagined Dean's reaction if he took him to the mountainside, and showed him the sheer drop underneath the narrow plinth he liked to sit on. He wished that he could have done it, regardless of whether he still had his grace, but he knew it was impossible. The grace was the only way to access the place, it was simply too dangerous for humans to even try to go there-

'Cas? You okay?'

Dean finally broke the silence with the tentative question. Could he feel Castiel's lament?

'I'm fine, Dean,' he lied.

'Sorry it's Wisconsin.'

'Its fine.'

Castiel didn't quite know why Dean was apologising for selecting a place in Wisconsin. He knew deep down that it really didn't matter where they were, so long as they were together, alone. And if they couldn't leave America and visit Nepal, it really didn't matter. Yet he still longed to go there, to squeeze onto that narrow rut with Dean and look out at the vast expanse of untouched earth-

'Well, you looked like you had a place when I asked, but you didn't say anything. We could always go there? I'll cancel.'

Castiel closed his eyes, just for a moment. Dean was beyond sweet, offering to change their plans to satisfy him. But it made it so much harder to deal with.

'We can't go there.'

He knew his emotion was evident in his voice. He was careful not to look anywhere near Dean, or he would start crying, and Dean would become frustrated, and he was so hopeful for their week away. Dean wasn't letting it go, however.

'Come on Cas, the deal is that we talk. Tell me about this place.'

Castiel sat back in his seat, feeling defeated. Dean was of course correct. They had agreed to discuss things more thoroughly, to avoid any misunderstanding. But this wasn't over a misunderstanding, it was something unattainable. He knew that Dean wouldn't let the matter drop just like that.

'It's in Nepal, and hard to reach. At least, for humans, it's hard to reach. And I don't have a passport, you don't enjoy flying. It's just not possible.'

He could feel a lump in his throat as he spoke, could feel an irritating, prickling sensation in his eyes. And Dean's next response did not help that feeling in anyway.

'Do you miss your grace?'

Castiel worked on not crying, and Dean seemed to be happy to wait patiently for an answer. Maybe he knew that it was complicated, or thought that Castiel would want to soften the blow when he confessed that he truly missed it. Dean had to know the truth, that Castiel's grace came second to him, every single time. He answered when he was ready, his voice shaking slightly despite his best efforts.

'I miss some things. Being a human is tiring and dirty. I don't like having to constantly eat and silence my stomach, or urinate as frequently as my vessel demands. But,' he looked at Dean, whose gaze was flickering between the road and Castiel. He forced a smile onto his face, so that his boyfriend would know he genuinely meant it. 'I made the right choice, Dean. I'll take whatever comes of being human, so long as I'm with you.'

'You can't get rid of me now.'

Dean smiled, and Castiel was baffled by how easily he seemed to say things like that, suddenly. Dean who was verbally constipated, Dean who only admitted to loving him when their situation seemed irredeemable. He moved closer to the hunter, sliding across the leather upholstery.

'This week will be nice,' he declared, trying to make the effort to be more positive. After all, they had a long stretch of time to be intimate. Longer, if Sam carried out his threat. 'We can kiss and not get interrupted all the time.'

'We can fuck and not hear Sam bitching about how loud you are.' Dean nodded. Castiel fought the urge to look around, in case they were overheard. It seemed novel, being able to discuss their sex life at normal volume without fear of someone making derisive comments. Castiel felt emboldened by that fact, enough to join in.

'Well, that's your fault. Is that why you gagged me last time?'

Dean didn't seem at all affected by Castiel's attempts to be casual.

'A little. Sometimes, you only start talking when we're fooling around. And why is it my fault that you're so loud?'

Castiel felt a little non-plussed by Dean's accusation. He felt as though he talked a lot, regardless of the impending intercourse. But Dean's question made him genuinely smile, and gave him the opportunity to practice flirting.

'Because you're so good.'

'Okay. I totally accept the blame on that one. But this week, you can be as loud as you want.'

Dean was grinning, enjoying the flirting. And not making a point of Castiel's clumsy attempts, which spurred the ex-angel on.

'I'll be as loud as you make me.'

'I'll accept the challenge.'

Castiel smiled again, and returned his gaze to the window. If this was a sign of things to come, Castiel couldn't have been happier. He had a man he loved, who loved him back, and they finally seemed to be thinking the same way. He was happy with the prospect, but couldn't escape the one shadow that felt as though it lurked over them. He knew bringing it up would sour the mood, but he wanted to dispel it as quickly as possible, so that they could enjoy their time together.

'Dean, what if … what if we have longer than a week for all these things? What if today is just the start of us having that time together, alone?'

Dean's smile tightened, and Castiel instantly regretted saying anything. After all, Sam hadn't totally been sure, had he? He was reticent about leaving his brother with the ex-angel.

'This week is meant to be a trial thing. So Sam and Becky can have some alone time. They're not moving out. Not yet. And we get to have fun in the mean time.'

Castiel didn't respond. He looked out of the window without truly seeing the scenery, trying to think of how to discuss this with Dean. Obviously, the hunter was still in denial about his brother's plans.

'Cas-' Dean said weakly, and Castiel was prompted into speaking his mind.

'He seemed fairly certain. Yes he said it was a trial, but he said he was moving out with her soon as well. I don't know, it was a feeling I got from him, that he'd already decided to move out. It's just a question of when.'

'He promised he wouldn't.' Dean pressed on belligerently. Castiel had his misgivings about bringing up the topic, but he knew they couldn't bury it now. Could he admit to Dean that he was the element of doubt for Sam? That if the younger hunter knew that Castiel was truly trustworthy, he would be out already? He didn't know how Dean would react to that. He didn't want to spin it so that Sam sounded unreasonable, but he knew it would come across that way while he avoided that topic.

'He asked me not to tell you. That's what makes me think he's serious.'

'Why did you tell me then? If you're not meant to?' Dean sounded petulant, and Castiel felt the strain of tension. He reminded himself that it was better to get it all out into the open and then move forward.

'I'm trying Dean, to make the effort. You want us to talk, you want me not to keep things from you. I think this quantifies as something I should tell you.'

'It is. Sorry, Cas.'

'I know,' he reached across the leather to take Dean's hand, their fingers weaving together around the steering wheel. 'I know you're not mad at me. Did you want to turn around, go back and talk to him?'

Castiel watched as Dean set his gaze firmly on the road in front of him, his nostrils flaring slightly, his jaw set as he considered Castiel's offer. It had been genuine. He knew that Dean wanted to be with him now, knew that they were a couple in all the ways that mattered. Of course, he was looking forward to their alone time but it wasn't essential, not if Dean was going to be upset over his brother the entire time. Castiel purely, simply, wanted the hunter to be happy. Eventually, Dean spoke again, his voice shaking as he tried to suppress his emotions.

'No. Besides, we're nearly there now.'

'Okay. We can call him once we're settled in, maybe?' Castiel offered, trying to appease his lover. He wasn't sure what had made Dean pick him over his brother, but he knew that he couldn't take Sam out of the picture entirely. Their relationship was a complicated one that Castiel had only really scratched the surface on. He only knew that for Dean, Sam came first. He was flattered by Dean's decision.

'Cas?' Dean said abruptly.

'Yes?'

'I'm … thanks.'

Castiel squeezed his fingers, and Dean squeezed back, the sensation almost painful. Castiel didn't bring up that Dean was hardly articulate, or that there was a hypocrisy in the notion that he wanted Castiel to talk and was unable to do so himself. He knew that the words just weren't coming to the hunter. And he knew what the words were anyway.


Castiel waited patiently in the car while Dean sorted out their accommodation in the reception area, his thoughts stuck on Sam Winchester. He felt responsible for Sam's decision, not necessarily because of how he and Dean conducted themselves in their relationship, but because he felt that Sam's decision was a product of Dean's neglect. Castiel had taken up so much of the hunter's attention, no wonder his brother was feeling isolated. No wonder Sam was turning to the person filling Dean's void.

Dean climbed back into the car and drove along a dirt path, through a glade of trees, and Castiel looked around, appreciating how close this location was to what they had been discussing. So it wasn't his favourite mountainside location, they could still feel alone, cut off from society, in their own small bubble. When Dean parked the car, they both stayed in their seats for a few moments, surveying the two-storey cabin, the small beach and jetty that was just visible from their parking spot, and the lake that seemed to stretch out into a distant hill range. And then Dean seemed to rouse himself, and climb out of the car, and Castiel felt obligated to follow.

Castiel was surprised by the decor in the cabin, at how light and open it all felt, but Dean seemed not to notice as he threw their bag down beside a chair, striding across the thick carpet, and turning around in the middle of the couches. Castiel watched his lover intently, cocking his head to the side almost without realising he'd done it. Dean looked back quietly for a few seconds that seemed to last forever, and Castiel felt a pull in his chest. He missed being able to just look at Dean like this, communicating just with eye contact. It was as special to him as when they kissed. And there was something in the hunter's eyes that let him know the feeling was mutual.

'Pretty sweet digs, right?' Dean smiled. Castiel nodded, his throat too dry for him to respond. His chest was close to bursting with love for the man in front of him, and Dean seemed to notice. 'Everything okay?'

'Yes,' Castiel pulled himself together enough to answer, and then decided to hit the biggest issue head on. 'Are you going to call Sam now?'

'In a while. I'm hungry, are you?'

Castiel ignored the bluster, and the change of subject. He was still concerned about Dean, and the way he was going to handle Sam leaving. The worst outcome would be that the brothers stopped talking, and Castiel would be left trying to encourage Dean to talk to his brother once again without being allowed to utter his name. It wasn't an impossible notion, and it made Castiel uneasy. Would either of them blame him if they did stop talking?

Dean turned away, heading into the kitchen and pulling open cupboard doors, removing various packages from inside them. Castiel realised that Dean was going to be his usual belligerent self, and ignore the topic in favour of a distraction. In this case, food. Castiel conceded that it had been a long time since they had last eaten, and whatever meal Dean was preparing would be very welcome. And Dean seemed at peace as he stirred something in a pot on the stove, Castiel couldn't resist approaching him, slipping his arms around his lover, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. He could remember dreaming of the day he would be allowed to do this, to touch the hunter tenderly, affectionately. He had never imagined how comfortable it would feel, how routine. And yet, despite that, it felt as though they had been this way for years. It was as though the unrequited longing was in a very distant past that had no more meaning.

'I could get used to this,' Dean commented, still stirring the pan. He seemed to be content, but Castiel was sure it was a farce. He tried to tread lightly.

'It's very domestic.'

'Is that a bad thing?' Dean noticed his slightly dour tone, and Castiel tried to sound happier in response.

'No.'

'What's up with you, anyway? I thought you'd be excited to get here. Stop worrying about Sam, I'll talk to him, he'll come around.'

Castiel wanted to believe that Dean meant the words, but he knew his boyfriend far too well. It was a mask of bravado, hiding his upset and anger over losing a piece of his brother. And more than that, since they had stepped into the house, Castiel had a strange sense of deja vu that he was trying to process. He attempted to answer Dean as sensitively as he could.

'I know you will. And I'm happy to be here,' he tightened his hold on Dean momentarily. 'It's nothing.'

'Cas-'

'You wouldn't want me to talk about it, Dean.' Castiel felt exhausted by trying to tread carefully. And this was, in his opinion, an issue between them. He'd felt Dean shut down the conversation before, and the hunter had said Castiel should express himself more often. Maybe, he considered, the time was right to at least bring up this one bone of contention.

'Cas, we're meant to be talking more. Right?' Dean echoed his own thoughts, and that was the final piece of motivation that Castiel needed. He could make his point, and hope that Dean understood what he was trying to convey. He focused on the bubbling pot in front of them.

'If I said everything I was thinking, you'd be perpetually mad. Or worse, you'd shut it down.'

Dean turned his head, trying to make eye contact, and Castiel continued to watch the sauce react to the heat underneath. He was hoping to avoid an argument.

'Try me.'

Dean's tone was gentle, one Castiel recognised as empathetic. He continued avoiding Dean's eye contact, cleared his throat, and took his boyfriend up on the offer. At least, to an extent, to see how much Dean truly meant that.

'It reminds me of our house, this place. Of the one you convinced me to leave. You were cooking for us then as well. And Sam lived with Becky, they had two little girls, remember?'

He knew that he wasn't expressing himself well. And with voicing the unrest came another wave of deja vu. It wasn't just the furnishings that felt reminiscent of the house he had created, there were other elements. Dean cooking at the stove, the intimate discussion as he made their meal. They were even standing in the same way. Castiel was afraid to look in the refrigerator and find wine. And Dean couldn't possibly have known about these details, because he had so far refused to discuss that place. The more that Castiel acknowledged the similarities, the more he wished he'd continued trying to discuss Sam.

'So what, this is what it looked like beyond the front passageway?'

Castiel heard the strain in Dean's voice, as he tried to relate. He knew that Dean was still trying to avoid whatever had gone on in Castiel's head.

'No, but it felt like this place.'

He knew he wasn't explaining himself well at all. How did humans do it? How did they just know what they were thinking and feeling and express it in words?

'Did I make you mac and cheese then too?'

Castiel was surprised that Dean was engaging in the conversation. And though he knew it meant the hunter was trying to prove a point, that he could discuss these things despite his reticence, Castiel was grateful. So grateful that he began to let his guard down. After all, this was their romantic weekend away, they were meant to be confessing their thoughts.

'No. Thai green curry. From scratch.'

He kissed Dean's shoulder, glad his lover was being so calm. Maybe it was a good thing that Castiel hadn't mentioned his brother.

'Dream me was showing off. I can't make that, Cas.'

Castiel even managed to smile at that comment. Dean seemed okay with discussing the fantasy, or dream, or whatever it had been. Maybe he was trying to understand Castiel better.

'It's okay. That wasn't the point. You made me get your beer out the refrigerator.'

Castiel felt Dean's face move, and he knew the hunter was smiling too. This was what he wanted for the entire week, these confessions and bonding moments and tender touches-

'Dream me had a good idea. I didn't check for beer.'

Castiel kissed his shoulder, and let go of his waist, crossing the room to the chiller, which he pulled open slowly, still anticipating the bottle of wine. Fortunately, he couldn't see any in there, though there was a six-pack of beer. He pulled two bottles out, and passed them both to Dean, who left the stove alone to open them up with a gadget set in the wall. He passed a bottle back to Castiel wordlessly, and the ex-angel sat down on a stool by the breakfast bar, overwhelmed once again by the sense of deja vu. Dean returned to cooking, and Castiel absent-mindedly lifted the bottle to his mouth, trying to drink the beer the same way that Dean did. The taste was bitter, stronger than Castiel had been anticipating, and he swallowed a wince before his boyfriend could notice the expression on his face.

Dean distributed the vivid yellow gloop into two bowls and slid one across to Castiel, before digging his phone out of his pocket, and pressing the screen. Castiel stuck a fork into the sauce-covered noodles, feeling a little grateful for the distraction. It was a normal thing, for Dean to answer his cell phone, and it certainly hadn't happened in Castiel's fantasy. He gingerly bit down on a few noodles, and his tastebuds were flooded with an intense cheese flavouring that wasn't unpleasant.

'How's the moving out going?' Dean broke the silence with his petulant tone. Castiel glanced up at his boyfriend, studying his face. Dean was grimacing, and Castiel assumed that Sam was talking quickly, trying to appease his brother. Dean continued to be abrupt. 'Put it on video call.'

After a moment, Castiel could hear a tinny version of Sam's voice, amplified slightly by the change in the phone call. He tried not to marvel at the things humans could achieve, not while Sam and Dean were both gearing up for an intense conversation. Instead, he did the sensible thing, and focused on the bowl of deliciousness that Dean had made him.

'Okay. Dean? You might wanna move your phone from your ear.'

Castiel may have been trying to stay out of the conversation, but he could still hear every word. He planned to listen carefully, and whatever the outcome, work on making Dean feel happier.

'Where are you?' Dean was asking his phone screen.

'At dinner with Charlie and Becky. We're taking Charlie home. They're just using the restroom so I thought I'd check in with you, if you weren't sucking face with Cas anyway.'

Sam sounded fairly happy, and Castiel wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. He made himself sip some more beer, and chased it up quickly with another mouthful of mac and cheese, as Dean replied to his brother.

'We're eating too.'

'Hey Cas.'

Castiel looked up, and saw Dean's arm extended, the phone in his grasp, and Sam smiling at him from the handset. He looked quickly at Dean, and the resigned expression on the hunter's face, before turning back to the phone.

'Hello, Sam.'

Dean withdrew his arm, and turned the screen back to himself, cutting off Castiel's chance for a chat with Sam. Castiel understood that Dean wanted this conversation to very much be between the brothers. He continued to pretend to concentrate on his meal, while listening to them both as much as he could.

'See? We have self-control.' Dean's voice oozed with attitude, and Castiel couldn't help himself.

'One of us does.'

He took another mouthful of beer, and winced again. Dean caught his expression, this time.

'If you don't like it, Cas, don't drink it. And what does that mean?'

Castiel could hear Sam chuckling, but he focused on the beautiful man in front of him. Was it not obvious to Dean? Castiel had withstood his emotions for years before he finally acted, and Dean was suddenly the one with the wandering hands. He shrugged as he stated the obvious.

'It means I can restrain myself.'

'Sure, Cas.'

Dean rolled his eyes, as though he didn't believe him. Okay, Castiel had introduced the experimental element to their love-making, but otherwise he had been the one asking Dean to stall, to wait. He knew it was important for the hunter to talk with his brother, but Castiel wanted to make a point, so he climbed off his seat, and walked around the breakfast bar until he stood beside Dean, leaning close so that they were almost touching. He could feel his boyfriend's body heat, could sense the tension building. But he directed his gaze to the screen, which still showed Sam's face. Sam was once again laughing, and Dean responded to his brother, his voice catching as he spoke.

'Seriously, Sam, are you moving out?'

Sam sobered up, as Becky appeared behind him, slipping her arms around his neck and beaming at her boyfriend.

'So you told him!'

As Sam turned to look at Becky, to shoot her a warning look that told Castiel far too much about the state of Sam's thinking, Dean quickly kissed Castiel's cheek. He felt himself smirk, full of self-righteousness, and knew he didn't have to say anything more on that issue. Dean would already be kicking himself for letting someone else be in the right. He blustered over the moment by referring back to the phone call, and the real issue at hand.

'We guessed, Becky.'

She pursed her lips at the screen, and Sam looked resigned. Castiel continued letting them talk it through, knowing it was important to Dean to do so.

'We have talked about it, Dean.' Sam's tone was as close to agitation as the taller hunter could get while still remaining polite. Clearly, this was going to be a bone of contention between the two of them that resonated deeper than most people would comprehend. Castiel supposed it had something to do with Dean feeling like Sam's other parent, and Sam wanting his independence, which had been a theme when Castiel had met them both. He supposed it went in a cycle.

'We talked about it as a maybe, you said you'd hold fire. I knew it, you always have to sneak off, or run away.'

'Dean,' Sam sounded strained, and then his eyes flickered to the corner of the screen. 'Cas? Can you please just talk to him?'

Dean hit the end call button, and flicked his wrist, so that the phone tumbled across the counter top. Castiel stayed exactly where he was, unsure if Dean would want reassurance, or else would want to vent his frustration. But Dean seemed incapable of doing either, and eventually, Castiel put a hand on his shoulder, hoping that he would at least unfreeze from his position. Dean immediately wrapped his arms around his chest, cuddling in close, nuzzling into Castiel's chest. And what else could he do but hold his boyfriend in return, leaning down and touching their heads together, stroking Dean's hair in an attempt to be soothing. Castiel wasn't sure why Sam's appeal had caused such a negative reaction, but he supposed that it didn't matter. Dean was in pain, and finding it hard to deal with losing his brother, and Castiel's role was to be there for Dean. He needed to reassure Dean that he wasn't alone, that they were a team and Sam wasn't trying to fight. Maybe Sam just didn't see the situation in the same way that Dean did.

'At least I have you,' Dean mumbled into Castiel's chest. He knew it wasn't intended as an insult.

'You'll always have me, Dean.'

Dean planted a kiss on his chest, and Castiel continued to run his fingers through the hunter's hair, knowing that he had to offer his boyfriend the option to talk to his brother face-to-face, and appeal to Sam's better nature.

'We can cut this trip short if you want to, Dean. We could go over to Becky's house and plead with him to reconsider-'

'No.' Dean sat back, looking up into Castiel's face, and the ex-angel fought the urge to caress his face. 'Sam's made his choice. And we need this. Look, we'll finish eating, I'll make sure we're totally warded in here, and then I just need like, five minutes driving time to myself, okay? And then when I come back, it's all about us, no worrying about my brother or anything else for the entire time we're here.'

Castiel didn't even consider arguing with Dean, as much as he was worried about his boyfriend going out alone. He knew that he had to let Dean process it in his own way, and if that meant letting him drive away for a portion of the evening, Castiel was going to have to accept that. He pressed his lips against Dean's forehead, hoping that his lover understood exactly what he was trying to convey, and then he walked back across the kitchen, to his now-cold food. Despite having no more appetite, he made himself eat the rest of the dish, and drain the rest of the sour-tasting beer. He couldn't help himself from watching the man he loved, as Dean shovelled his own meal in, before grabbing his car keys and heading for the door.

Castiel listened, and heard the faint hiss of a spray can working on the outside of the house, before the familiar roar of the Impala starting up rent the air, and Castiel was left alone. He tapped the table as he thought, and then decided to do something that might make Dean at least a little happier. He gathered together all the dishes, and set about washing them, drying them, and replacing them in the cupboards.

He then walked around the main room of the cabin, and gravitated towards the bookshelves. He ran his fingers along the broken spines, and pulled a book out at random, grabbing the throw from the couch and settling in the armchair. He wrapped the throw around his shoulders, and pulled his knees to his chest as he began to read, absorbing himself in the book to try and distract himself from worrying about Dean.

He lost track of time as he read the book, which seemed to be discussing stories within the bible and was actually fairly interesting. He was already on chapter four when he realised that he wasn't alone, someone was standing nearby, observing him. He looked up slowly, and saw Dean, looking wearier than ever. Castiel bit his lip, as he acknowledged that this two, was similar to his siren-induced fantasy. He had tried to read a book, and Dean had been demanding and attention-seeking. He looked at the book as he considered the difference between the fantasy of Dean and reality.

The reality was, real Dean needed the attention, he needed the reassurance that he was supposed to get from Castiel. But he just did not have the vocabulary to let his boyfriend know how vulnerable he was feeling. Castiel bit his lower lip as he closed the book, and moved it aside. And then his eyes were back on Dean, taking in the hunter, trying not to be overwhelmed by his personal epiphanies. This was what he had wanted, Dean relying on him, the two of them together no matter what challenges they faced. Dean showing him a side that no one else saw. He opened his arms, and the hunter crashed into them, hardly seeming to care if either of them were comfortable in their respective positions. Although Castiel wished he could unfurl his legs from their now-cramped position, he had no desire to reprimand Dean. Instead he wrapped the blanket around the broad shoulders of his boyfriend, and tucked himself into the curve of Dean's neck and shoulder, one hand toying again with the short bristles of hair at the back of Dean's neck. This time, he decided not to let the silence drag on, not if there was a chance that the love of his life would talk candidly through his vulnerability.

'How was your drive?'

'Okay. How's the book?'

Castiel knew that Dean was trying to avoid the subject, but he let it slide. That was all part of it, wasn't it? That he work around Dean's limitations and Dean would make the effort. So he would play along, and try and ease the truth out of his boyfriend.

'Interesting. It's a take on the Bible I haven't yet come across. I found it on the book shelf over there,'

Castiel indicated the bookshelf across the room, and Dean turned his head to look. Castiel assumed that things would be easier to discuss without eye contact.

'Are you feeling better?'

Dean shrugged, and Castiel couldn't resist touching his face, stroking it cautiously. He didn't know what to say to make the hunter feel better, but he knew that this was probably the best way to communicate his compassion.

'Cas? Are we still good?' Dean muttered quietly. Castiel hadn't expected it, didn't know where Dean would think they were still having problems.

'Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?'

'Because you're not pawing at me, demanding too much from me.'

Castiel kissed his temple fondly, trying to follow Dean's logic. He reminded the hunter of their deal.

'You asked me not to, Dean. I'm trying to respect your wishes.'

Dean looked back at him, and spoke quietly, not breaking eye contact.

'You still love me?'

It was bold of Dean to speak so clearly about his emotional state, and Castiel understood straight away where the vulnerability was coming from. The hunter needed reassurance that Castiel wasn't going to leave him also. He endeavoured to talk to Sam, to try and find some way of making the blow easier for his boyfriend. And in the mean time, he would make sure Dean felt treasured. He smiled, stroking Dean's hair.

'Nothing could stop me from loving you, Dean.'

Dean reached forward, kissing him abruptly, and Castiel kissed back, trying to tame the kiss, trying to make it more about that slow-burning sensation that Dean created than a short-living fire. They seemed at odds with each other, wrestling for their own agendas, and Castiel wondered why Dean was pushing for anything other than the love and acceptance that he was trying to convey. It was at total odds from their conversation also. He tried to give them the chance to pause, to regroup.

'Maybe we should find the bed?'

Dean nodded, looping his fingers into Castiel's waistband and standing up. Castiel moved willingly, the blanket they had been sharing falling to the floor. Dean picked a plastic bag up as they walked up the stairs together, heading into the first room and finding a huge bedroom, filled with a king-sized bed. Dean threw the bag inside, and returned his attentions to his boyfriend, pulling up at Castiel's shirt, untucking it from the jeans he was wearing. Castiel let him remove the shirt, still dwelling on what could possibly be going through the hunters mind, even as Dean began to touch his chest and kiss his face, their lips almost glued together, and they resumed their silent fight from the living area. The power struggle as they both tried to dictate how this would go. Castiel just wanted to show that he loved the hunter, without it turning to sex. But Dean seemed determined to avoid his own emotions, and return to safe ground.

'Do you want me, Cas?' He eventually moaned.

'Of course.'

They carried on kissing, Castiel still trying to be slow, and sweet, and sensual, and Dean still trying to shove his tongue down Castiel's throat. He was once again toying with Dean's hair, massaging Dean's scalp in the way he liked the hunter doing to him, trying to use the same technique to make his boyfriend calm down, even as Dean's fingers traced his chest. Dean was the one to break apart again, panting all the while.

'Come on, Cas. Get in the mood.'

Castiel rested his forehead against Dean's, his fingers still working his boyfriend's scalp as he tried to understand what Dean meant. He was very much in the mood, in the one that Dean had been in before they began kissing. In the end, he decided that maybe the physical contact wasn't appropriate. Not yet.

'Dean, maybe this isn't a good idea. You seem … we should talk.'

Dean didn't respond, but from his controlled breathing, Castiel assumed that it was safe to continue.

'You're making me talk about things I'm uncomfortable with, it should work both ways. I know you use body language more, I understand that, but I think right now you need something other than sex.'

'I think sex is exactly what I need.' Dean responded immediately. Castiel let his hand caress down Dean's head, along his neck, and then he stepped back, looking straight at the man he loved.

'I understand, you know. What Sam means to you, how betrayed you feel about it all-'

'We agreed we weren't going to talk about that when I got back.'

Dean's tone was abrasive, and Castiel felt disappointed that Dean was shutting it down, despite all the signs pointing to the fact that the hunter needed something. He steeled himself to fight back.

'I think we need to. I'm not going to leave you, Dean. I wouldn't. I've been in love with you for a long time. And when you broke up with me and they took my grace? All I could think about was getting back to you. And Sam's not trying to hurt you, either. I'm sure he thinks he's doing us a favour, as well as helping himself. This is his solution to a lot of conflict.'

Dean started to hyperventilate, his eyes glazing over with tears, and Castiel stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the man he loved, rubbing his hands along Dean's back, hoping that the gesture was a soothing one. At least, the hunter didn't fight him, didn't resist his touch.

'It'll be okay. You'll see.'

He kissed Dean's neck, and Dean leaned into him, letting Castiel practically hold him up. They stood together as Dean's breathing slowly returned to normal, and he began to hold himself normally again. Castiel rested his head on the hunter's shoulder, stroking his thumb across the top of his arm.

'Let's just go to bed,' Dean broke the silence. Castiel nodded wordlessly, taking a few more moments to savour Dean's touch before letting go, and surveying him quietly as the hunter stripped off and climbed into the bed. It was only then that Castiel shucked off his own jeans, and climbed into the bed too, wriggling over until he could wrap his arms around Dean. 'Since when do we wear clothes in bed?'

It was a moment before Castiel realised that Dean was commenting on the underwear that the ex-angel was still wearing. He kissed Dean's collarbone, and then reached down, pulling the elastic band down as he wriggled out of the material, and then tossed them aside.

'Better?'

Dean nodded, and Castiel cuddled close again, hoping that Dean wouldn't take the fact that they were both naked to pursue amorous activities once again. But he didn't seem able to move, and Castiel once again took to running his fingertips across Dean's scalp, as Dean closed his eyes and a small tear gathered in the corner of one eye. He lifted the ex-angel's chin, and Castiel avoided his lips neatly, planting small kisses on the hunter's fingertips instead, and trying once again to get through to him.

'We have a whole week for that, Dean. Tonight, can we just enjoy this intimacy?'

Dean let the silence linger after Castiel's words for a moment, and when he spoke it was with a grudging voice.

'You owe me.'

'Well, you owe me a top.' Castiel replied simply.

'Do I?'

'You promised.'

Dean left another lingering pause.

'I was trying to see if you were paying attention.'

'It still counts.'

Castiel wasn't trying to sound petulant, but he was aware he might have been coming across that way. And yet, despite that, he thought that Dean sounded more like himself than he had all night, more flirtatious and friendly. Castiel wanted to embrace that.

'Nope, I said right then, at that moment. And you didn't move.'

'What would you have done if I had?'

There was another pause, and when Dean spoke again, there was a softness evident in his voice.

'I would have tried. I don't break promises, Cas.'

Castiel kissed Dean's chest, rather than articulate just how touching it was that Dean thought that, even after everything. And then the hunter's fingers were caressing his jawline, tilting his face upwards so that their lips could meet. This time, their kiss was mutual, that softness from Dean's voice threading its way into the flow of their mouths, and the kisses that Castiel had tried for earlier now seemed so easy between them. He fell into the sensation, into the endless slow kisses, and the lazy way that Dean's tongue grazed against his own. And then Dean was rolling on top of him, pressing down on him, and Castiel knew that the sweet innocence of their kisses were going to fade as Dean resumed his default setting.

'Not tonight, Dean.' He tried to be firm on the issue.

'Don't you love me any more?'

It was a cheap shot, and Dean had to know it. Nothing Castiel had done all evening indicated that there was anything less than affection for him. Hadn't they both discussed before that sex didn't equate to love? It was just a very pleasant part of it. He slid his hand to the back of Dean's neck, and began to massage the skin there.

'I love you very much and you know it. And you know I don't think sex is love, so don't even try that. I meant what I said, Dean, not tonight. I don't think you could handle it tonight.'

Dean stroked his face wordlessly, his fingertips catching on Castiel's lips, caressing his throat, grazing down Castiel's chest, and the ex-angel caught him somewhere on his stomach, knowing full well what his boyfriend was planning.

'Yes, I know, you can physically handle me. That's not what I meant either. I don't think you realise how much it showed on your face Dean. It's all I'm going to be able to see.'

Dean sighed, looking resigned, and rolled away from Castiel, settling on the mattress where their bodies could no longer touch. But they were still holding hands, and Castiel took that as a good sign. He squeezed his boyfriend's fingers gently.

'I just don't want either of us to regret anything.'

'Mmmmm.'

It was not the time to bring up Castiel's irritation with that sound. Instead, he decided that Dean was finally conceding to the idea that they would not be engaging in intercourse that night. He decided it was best to be wilfully ignorant.

'Goodnight, Dean.'

He scooted over and rested on the hunter's chest once more, and Dean tucked his chin on top of his head. Castiel took that to be a good sign, that Dean wasn't mad despite the rebuff. He just hoped that the next day would be better, happier.