Dean leaned over the pool table, bringing his hands together and sticking his elbows out to form a triangle around the balls and the cushion. After moving the balls into their correct positions within the triangle, he took aim with the cue and fired the white ball in their direction. Ball after ball, he sank them with ease.

He got no pleasure in clearing the table, for it was no challenge messing about by himself. As he bent over to take an easy shot at the black, he glanced up at a couple sitting in his line of vision. A bald guy and his Latino friend were sitting at a table, drinking and chatting quietly between themselves. They might be decent opponents, he decided, tossing his cue down on the table and making his way over to them.

"Hey," he said when they looked up at him. "Wanna play?" He beckoned in the direction of the pool table.

"Depends," the Latino guy said. "Is it going to be worth my while?"

Dean shrugged. "I could throw some money down."

"Cesar, don't," the bald guy pleaded. "We didn't come out for this."

"It's just a little fun, Jesse."

"It's no fun for me if I'm watching you play pool with someone else."

"Don't be such a bonehead. What's wrong with making a little money off the guy?"

"Nothing, if you win. What if you don't?"

Dean laughed. "You guys fight like me and my brother."

Jesse seemed to curl in on himself as Cesar said, "Well... it's more like an old married couple."

Dean chuckled, but Cesar leveled a challenging stare at him as if waiting for Dean to start a fight. Jesse, on the other hand, simply dropped his head and closed his eyes as if awaiting the inevitable abuse he thought Dean might throw at them. Another glance between the two men, and his eyes widened in realisation. "Oh! So..." As Dean motioned between the two of them Cesar visibly relaxed, a grin spreading across his face at Dean's acceptance.

"So, uh, do you want to play or not"?

Cesar looked at Jesse, who looked a little more secure than he had a moment ago but gave a small shake of his head. With obvious reluctance, Cesar said, "Thanks, but no thanks."

"Fair enough," Dean said, moving back to the table to rack the balls up again. "Hey!" he snapped at the youths gathering around the table. "Did I say I was finished?"

They scarpered back to their table, grumbling amongst themselves. As he played, Dean found himself paying more attention to Cesar and Jesse than the balls. A look here, a touch there... It went against everything he'd ever believed gay men could be - real men, as his dad would probably have put it, and yet completely in love with each other. But then, it wasn't like Cas fit Dean's image of what a gay man should be like, either.

As they murmured quietly between themselves, occasionally laughing at something the other said, Dean wondered if this would be Cas for the rest of his life - introducing his partner and bracing for a fight. Cas didn't deserve that. Dean would make sure that nobody gave him shit for loving someone. His gut wrenched as he realised that Cesar was him, ready to leap to Jesse's defence if need be.

He hit the cue ball so hard it missed the ball he was aiming at entirely and jumped off the table.

"Foul!" Cesar shouted over with a laugh.

Dean forced a half-assed grin.

"Come on over, friend - we'll buy you a drink. It'll make a change from being alone?"

Only the temptation of a free drink stopped him from saying no. "Alright," he said, dropping the cue ball and his cue on the pool table. As he sat down, he could see the students on the other side of the room eyeing up the table. He glared at them for a long moment, before nodding his head at the table. In a blink they were crowded around it, jostling each other as they set up for a game.

Jesse nodded at him, a small smile pulling one corner of his mouth upwards. Maybe something Cesar had said had loosened him up a bit, Dean mused.

They beckoned over to the waitress to bring them another round, then Dean began to realise that Cesar didn't do small talk.

"So tell us - why's a man as good-looking as you moping around a pool table all alone on a weeknight?"

Whether it was because he knew they were married or due to his conflicted feelings for Cas he didn't know, but his instinctual response to tell the guy he was barking up the wrong tree died in his throat. Instead he let out a self-conscious chuckle, wishing he had a beer in front of him already. Being able to down a beer would delay, however briefly, having to answer that question.

"It's a girl," Jesse predicted in a murmur, sounding bored with the conversation.

"It's not a girl!" Dean protested. Why did everyone always think he had girl troubles these days?

"You mean it's a guy?" Cesar asked, sounding surprised.

At Cesar's surprise, Dean found himself wishing that he hadn't been so quick to correct them.

"You didn't strike me as the type."

"I didn't say that!"

Cesar laughed. "So it is a guy." His eyes raked over Dean thoughtfully. "Is he straight?"

"No," Dean replied automatically. As soon as the word was out of his mouth, he wanted to smash his head off the nearest wall. Why didn't he just tattoo it on his fucking forehead that a part of him wanted more than friendship from Cas?

Cesar's eyes softened in sympathy. "First time?"

Dean clenched his jaw, unwilling to answer the question, and ignored the waitress as she placed a drink in front of him.

"Well, you're never too old to switch teams," Cesar told him warmly. "If you've got a good support network, you should do alright."

He wasn't switching teams, damn it! Liking Cas didn't make him gay. He didn't know what it made him, but he still liked women. Still thought about their soft curves when he took his hand to himself at night.

"I know how you feel," Jesse started. "Conflicted. Confused. Everyone telling you you'll meet a nice girl who'll make your feelings for him go away. But you won't. Not if you're like me." He swallowed. "Sometimes I still don't feel like I fit in."

At this, Cesar reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"But I know I'm not wrong. You're not wrong."

It was the most Dean had been aware of Jesse saying all night. All three of them sat in silence for a long moment, letting his words sink in.

"It's not like that," Dean croaked, breaking the silence. His mouth was dry, and he reached for his drink.

"No?" Cesar questioned.

"I got nothing against...you know... people like you."

"Except being one."

Cesar's accusation hung in the air, creating a barrier between them.

Dean's hand, resting on his knee, clenched under the table. He wasn't homophobic! He supported Cas. He'd taken the guy to a damn gay bar! "It's not... I'm not..." He couldn't deny it. His hard expression softened as he thought about Cas. "It's complicated," he settled for.

"Love isn't complicated," Cesar told him.

"Who said I loved him?" Dean exclaimed, straightening up in his seat.

"You didn't have to."

"Cesar's right," Jesse told him. "Love isn't complicated unless you make it that way."

"Whatever it is - and I'm not saying it's love - I don't know how to uncomplicate it," Dean admitted after a moment's pause.

"Do you want to?" Cesar asked.

"Yes. No... Maybe."

"Start by figuring out which it is," he advised. "Don't mess him around, whoever he is. Whoever he is, he deserves better than that."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "He does."

"Who is he?" Jesse asked.

"Who? Cas?"

"If that's the guy you like," Cesar nodded.

"Yeah, he's... he's weird," Dean remarked thoughtfully, smiling to himself as he pictured Cas in his mind. "He's a weird, dorky little guy. Dark hair, blue eyes... Sensible shoes." He stopped when he saw Cesar's wide grin. "What?"

"I was expecting something a bit more personal."

Dean's cheeks grew warm and he leaned forward to grab his beer. After taking a long sip, he set it back on the table, index finger running around the rim as he stared into the half-empty glass. "What? You want me to tell you about the little things? Like the way he tilts his head when he's confused? Or that when he smiles it's like the freakin' sun? Or maybe you want to know how smart, forgiving and friggin' selfless he is? How about the fact that when he looks at me, I feel like I mean something - like just being around him makes me a better man."

"He sounds like a nice guy."

"He is," Dean agreed quickly. "He's the best."

"It's no wonder he turned your head."

"Might turn mine, if I didn't have Cesar."

As if receiving a signal, they both reached out to touch the other; a shoulder, a knee. There was nothing sexual about their actions, but at the same time there was an intimacy that had Dean's stomach twisting in jealousy.

"What's it like?" he heard himself ask. "Settling down with a guy?"

"Smelly, hairy. Twice the worrying about getting prostate cancer."

Cesar's tone was light-hearted, and though it wasn't funny Dean laughed anyway.

"Well, what did you expect me to say?"

"I dunno."

"We've got a nice little spread in New Mexico where we raise horses. Tomorrow we pick up a new stallion before making the long drive back."

"It's a life," Jesse said. "A happy one. Better than anything I thought I'd have when I was a kid. Back then, all I had was my brother. Everyone else..." He trailed off with a small shake of his head.

Dean licked his lips, wondering what his brother would say, knowing how screwed up he was getting over a guy. He finished his drink, then left enough money to buy the couple another round. "I gotta get out of here," he declared. Before he told them anything else. Before he thought too hard about their questions, and the implications of his responses. He'd already shared too much with them. He'd never have said this much to Jo, or Ellen, or anyone else he knew. So why, then, had it been easier to confide in these strangers he'd never see again?

"Take care," Cesar told him.

Jesse, a man of few words, echoed his husband's sentiments with a nod.

. * * * .

Castiel walked up the steps to Balthazar's front door, reaching into his pocket for his keys. His friend had given him a spare key so he could come and go as he pleased, which came in useful when Balthazar was out and he wanted to go for a run. Running usually cleared his head, but tonight he couldn't help but wonder what Dean was doing.

Balthazar was right. He was pining.

When he walked into the living room, the last thing he expected to see was his friend's naked ass greeting him over the arm of the sofa.

"Balthazar! What?!" he spluttered.

"Shit, sorry!" Balthazar laughed. "I forgot this was your bed now."

Castiel really didn't want to think about how many times Balthazar had had sex where he now spent his nights.

"Did you have a nice run?" Balthazar asked as he rose to his feet, his hard cock jutting out proudly and bouncing a little as he moved.

Cas could feel his face flushing and he focused his attention behind his friend, on the darkened screen of the television set. "Yes, thank you."

The girl Balthazar had on the sofa giggled and murmured something in his ear, then Castiel was relieved to hear his friend say, "We'll take this to my room."

"Okay." Feeling hot and sweaty after his run, Cas decided that once Balthazar had retreated to his room he'd have a shower and try to forget about the antics he'd intruded on so that he could eventually sleep.

"You're welcome to join us," Balthazar offered, interrupting his thoughts. "It might take your mind off of—"

"No, thank you!" Castiel said quickly. His first time certainly wasn't going to be in a loveless orgy. Not that he'd judge anyone who engaged so freely in such sexual activities, but it just wasn't for him.

"Suit yourself," Balthazar shrugged, ushering his 'guest' in the direction of his bedroom. "My door won't be locked if you change your mind."

Starting to feel peckish after his run, Castiel mentally postponed his shower in order to prepare himself a snack. While Dean had fattened him up on a wide variety of Eastern takeaways, Balthazar had introduced him to Mediterranean tapas and he knew his friend had some leftovers in the fridge. Helping himself, he piled a plate with a piece of Spanish omelette, some stuffed olives, a few slices of cured meats - the names of which he couldn't pronounce - and a wedge of focaccia bread. He quickly sliced up a small carrot and a stick of celery as well, finishing off the plateful with a large spoonful of hummus.

He couldn't imagine Dean eating this without a great deal of persuasion - but it would be his loss.

He left it sitting on the table in the living room with a glass of red wine - not the usual beer that Dean would accompany any and every meal with - while he showered. He could make out Balthazar's and the girl's grunts and groans of pleasure above the sound of the water, and he was grateful that Dean had never brought anyone home while he'd lived there.

The headboard started to bang vigorously against the wall and Castiel was hit with the sudden and unexpected urge to cry. He missed Dean. He missed his bed, not that it was even a proper bed. And he wanted to go home. Balthazar was a good friend, but Dean was family.

As Balthazar and the girl quietened down, Castiel dried himself off and went to eat his supper. He found that the wine burned a little on the way down, but it didn't mess with his head the way the tequila had on Balthazar's birthday.

He'd forgotten a fork so he ate with his fingers, wiping up the last of the hummus with the bread. After rinsing his dishes and leaving them beside the sink for morning, he tucked a sheet around the sofa cushions. As he settled down beneath a layer of thin blankets, he heard the girl start moaning again. He hoped they wouldn't be at it all night, or else he might not get any sleep.

Though, he thought to himself with a half-hearted chuckle, he probably wouldn't be complaining about being kept up all night if he were in Balthazar's shoes.