Because Benny had a dentist appointment on Thursday, Bobby had switched his and Dean's half days around. This meant that he and Cas were working opposite shifts, with Dean in at work the morning and Cas working in the afternoon. It worked out for the best, with one of them being at home to look after the kitten.

At the start of the week, there had been some concern when they realised that Chuck Norris would be left home alone for several hours a day. However they soon discovered that - providing they covered the floor with newspaper as best they could - he was perfectly fine. There were no wiring for him to chew, and he was too small to jump onto the counter. The table was another story, so they made sure the chairs were all tucked under the table in the hopes that he wasn't able to climb up on them.

Dean drummed his fingers off the steering wheel as he pulled into the yard at the end of the day. Hoping to surprise Cas, he practically skipped into the office - which was empty.

He stepped out of the office again at the same time Bobby walked out of the garage. "Where's Cas?" he asked, eyes searching around for his friend

"Where'd you think? Went to 'stretch his legs'."

Dean shook his head. Every other day, Cas would take a walk into the back yard to gaze longingly at the Lincoln. "What's the story with that hunk of junk?"

"The damned insurance company is dragging its heels. They need to hurry up and pay out so I can get it out of my yard!"

"Let me know what happens with it, yeah?"

"What do you care?"

Dean shrugged. "Call it curiosity."

"Hmph. That's what killed the cat."

The phrase caused Dean's thoughts to turn to Chuck Norris. The little guy played havoc with his sinuses but, as much as he pretended to dislike the creature, he had to admit it was a little endearing. Especially the way he'd tried to stop him leaving the apartment by playing with his shoe laces.

"Hey, uh, is anyone off in April?"

Bobby stared at him for a long moment. "You realise I don't know the holiday schedule off by heart, right?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

Bobby moved past Dean into the office, pulling pages out of a filing cabinet.

"April, April, April... Andy's off the last week."

"Can I take the second week?"

Bobby frowned at Dean. "Since when did you ask for your holidays?"

"Since I made plans."

Bobby made an approving noise and marked it down. "Will Cas be needing it as well?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Probably."

Bobby made a slightly less approving noise. "Fine."

"Thanks, Bobby."

Dean left the office again and jogged around the buildings to find Cas, as expected, staring at the smashed up car.

"Are you finished?"

Cas turned to him. "You didn't need to pick me up. I could have walked. Or ridden the bus."

Dean shrugged. "I wanted to get you," he said, unable to keep the grin off his face. "So, are you coming?"

Picking up on Dean's obvious excitement and anticipation, Cas leaned back on the Lincoln and studied him. "Did you win the lottery or something?" he asked.

"Even better," Dean grinned, unable to keep it to himself any longer. "She said yes."

"Who said yes?"

"Lisa."

It took half a second for what Dean was saying to sink in before Cas catapulted himself into his arms.

"That's amazing!" he gushed. "I prayed every night that you could have a second chance with him."

"Well, you know I don't really believe in the man upstairs, but thanks," Dean told him. He pressed a chaste kiss to Castiel's mouth, then dropped his forehead against his. "This is all because of you," he said. "Thank you, Cas."

"I didn't do anything."

Dean pulled away. "You pushed me to write to him. To ask Lisa if I could see him. If it wasn't for you... I wouldn't have thought I deserved to."

Footsteps around the side of the building reminded Dean where they were and he instinctively stepped backwards, visibly putting space between himself and Castiel.

Frowning, Castiel reached out to him; his firm hand hand on Dean's shoulder stopping him in his tracks. "You may not have made the best decisions in the past, but you think of Ben as your son and care for him as such. You deserve to be in his life every bit as much as he deserves to have you in his."

Dean stared at Cas, struck dumb by his heartfelt support.

"You are strong, and kind, and loyal, which greatly outweighs your flaws. No-one is perfect, but not everyone is as loving as you."

Dean's eyes were brimming with unshed tears, and he swallowed hard around the lump in his throat as he nodded his acceptance of Castiel's words. He didn't necessarily believe them himself, but he believed that Cas believed them.

Looking down at their hands as he slowly intertwined their fingers, Dean wondered what he'd ever done to deserve Cas. He'd never felt this level of undying support from anyone - not even Sam. He couldn't put into words how grateful he was and, as a single tear fell down his cheek he wished that he could show Cas his gratitude.

Clearing his throat, he remembered the other half of his reason for picking Cas up from work. "I, uh, thought I'd take you out tonight."

"Out?" Cas asked, a tiny ray of hope inside his mind wondering if this was a date.

"Yeah, to celebrate," Dean clarified, as he led him back towards the car.

"And so we should," he agreed, focusing on his happiness for Dean instead of his disappointment. "It's been a long time since we've gone out."

"I mean it's not out out, you know? Nothing fancy. Just dinner at the Roadhouse."

"Even still, it's a treat."

"Yeah."

Dean dropped Castiel's hand as they rounded the front of the building and they got into the car, waving goodbye to Bobby as they left. They drove for a little while in silence before Dean spoke again.

"You know, it's nice having a bit of extra cash to do this." He'd never bothered before about how much he spent on booze. "Go out," he explained.

Cas glanced over at him.

"I'm not an alcoholic, Cas," Dean said, keeping his eyes on the road and away from Castiel's patient gaze. "Not like my dad. I don't need it... most of the time. Sometimes I use it to take the edge off, other times I just don't want to feel like crap."

"I had to hold your head while you threw up in the toilet," Cas reminded him pointedly.

"That's a different kind of crap. I can deal with that. Feeling alone, like I've failed everyone I know... everyone I care about. That's the kind of crap I want to forget."

"You're not alone any more, Dean," Cas promised him, a hand on Dean's knee warming the skin beneath his jeans. "And you haven't failed me."

Not yet, a small voice in Dean's head cut in. He bent his neck to one side, causing it to pop.

"I'm here for you. Whatever you need. You're my boyfriend, and my best friend. If you feel alone then I'm failing you."

Dean was silent for a long moment as he let Castiel's word sink in, and he wondered how the conversation had derailed so quickly. "I should probably drink a little less," he conceded, getting it back on track.

"If that's what you want to do."

"Yeah. It is."

"Then I'm proud of you, Dean. It's not easy to admit when you need to change your behaviours."

Dean side-eyed him. "Are you quoting Pamela again?"

Castiel opened and closed his mouth. "Paraphrasing, perhaps," he acknowledged.

Dean shook his head as he indicated left. "At this rate, I'm going to have two counsellors for the price of one."

Cas chuckled. "Sorry."

"Nah. It's okay. I somehow don't mind it coming from you."

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Castiel's hand still on Dean's knee. For once, he wasn't even tempted to play music - the silence between them and the roar of the engine felt somewhat comforting.

. * * * .

"Hey, Dean! We haven't seen you in a while," Jo smiled when they walked through the door, Dean holding it open for Cas. "Hi, Cas." She hugged them both.

"Is it just me, or is the service in here getting a lot more personal?" Dean quipped.

Jo smacked him around the head with a menu.

"Ow!"

"Don't be such a baby, Winchester," Ellen grinned from where she stood wiping glasses at the bar.

"Table or booth?" Jo asked them. She looked amused, as if thinking she already knew their preference before they answered.

And she did, Castiel realised.

"He only ever takes a booth when he's on a date."

Except that wasn't the case, as her observation had been prompted by the fact the two of them had shared a booth in the past. And who was to say this couldn't be a celebration and a date?

"Booth?" he suggested, looking at Dean for approval.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Booth."

Jo's look of amusement faded, but her eyes widened slightly. "Okay," she said.

Castiel's paranoia kicked in, because he thought she sounded a little suspicious.

She led them over to the back corner and started removing the extra place settings, but was taken off guard when Dean slid into the same side of the booth as Cas.

"You'll have more room on the other side," she pointed out.

"We're good," Dean told her.

"Okay," she said again when Cas nodded.

And maybe it wasn't his paranoia, because she was looking at them rather oddly.

"So do you guys want your regulars, or do you want to look at the menus?"

"Menus, please Jo," Cas told her. "We're celebrating." A sharp dig in his side stopped him from saying anything more.

Jo beamed. "Celebrating what?" she asked them eagerly.

"Personal stuff," Dean told her.

"Well fine, if you don't feel like sharing with your friends..." she trailed off, pretending to sound hurt.

Dean sighed, because they obviously weren't going to get any peace until he told her. "If you hound all guys like this it's no wonder you're single," he complained jokingly.

She put her hands on her hips, causing her tank top to rise up and expose a sliver of pale skin. "I'll have you know that the the reason I'm single is because I haven't found a man worth my time yet," Jo informed him assertively.

Dean laughed at her attitude. Her tomboyish appearance and self-confidence was a breath of fresh air, compared to some women he'd come across who sought male attention. "You remember I told you I was trying to see my ex's kid?"

She nodded.

"She said she's okay with it."

"Oh," she said, as if it wasn't quite what she was expecting. Then as Dean's words sunk in, "Oh! That's amazing!"

"Yeah," Dean said, still unable to believe it himself.

"I'm really happy for you, Dean."

"Thanks."

"I'll let you look at the menu, but what do you guys want to drink?"

"I'll, uh, just have a Coke," Dean said, deliberately avoiding her gaze as he studied the menu.

"Make that two, please, Jo," Cas told her.

"O-kay," she said, and retreated to the bar to get their drinks.

Dean followed her with his eyes, and caught Ellen looking over at them curiously while Jo poured their drinks.

"Is it just me or is she behaving a little strangely?" Cas asked quietly.

"Jo's always strange," Dean told him affectionately.

Castiel tutted at him. "More than usual?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed evasively. "What do you want to eat?"

Clearly Dean didn't want to discuss it, so Cas turned his attention to the menu as well. "What are you having?"

"The Harvelle Hamburger looks good."

"How is a burger in any way a treat, when you eat them so regularly?"

"This is the house burger, Cas! Beef, bacon, pulled pork, cheese, chillies, tomato, lettuce, onions..."

Cas looked horrified. "You don't need that much meat in one meal."

"No-one does," Dean grinned. "But it's a treat."

Castiel opened his mouth to argue, but Dean had used his own words against him. "Well I'm going to have something different."

They were both studying their menus silently when Jo brought their drinks over, the ice cubes clanking against the glasses as she set them down on the table.

"Have you decided what you want yet?"

"I'm having the Harvelle," Dean said immediately.

"How many times have you drooled over the menu before telling us it's 'too damn expensive'?" she chuckled.

"Well, today I can afford it," he told her.

"What about you, Cas?"

"I think I'll try the potted crab."

Jo scribbled their order down and left them alone again.

Dean pretended to study the desserts for a long moment. It was at times like this that he realised he and Cas were two very different people. While he mostly kept everyone at a distance and had grown more inclined to stay in, Cas had a desire to be more sociable and go out. He ate the same things - or variations of them - whereas Cas was eager to try new food, even if it turned out he didn't like them. They said opposites attracted, but Dean would've thought people needed to share some similarities as well.

It seemed like Cas and Balthazar had a lot in common. From what he saw, anyway. Sure, Balthazar was bolder and more outgoing, but Cas had become more so over the past months. His dislike of Balthazar made his stomach churn strangely, and for the first time he wondered if there was more to his feelings than simply not liking the guy.

"Is that something you like?" Dean asked abruptly. "Crab, I mean? Or..." He trailed off when Cas looked at him.

"It just sounded nice," Cas answered. "And I've never had crab before."

Dean nodded to himself.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"It's just that for someone who wanted to celebrate you've gone very quiet."

Dean sucked in a breath, and let it out over a long exhale. "Have you ever noticed that we're very different?"

Cas's gaze dropped to the table, perhaps wondering where Dean was going with his question. He wasn't very sure himself.

"Yes."

"Do you think that's a bad thing?" Dean held his breath as he waited for Cas to answer. When Castiel's leg shifted and his knee deliberately touched his, he relaxed slightly.

"I think that we both have flaws," Cas considered, "but I like to think that we can balance each other out. When I met you, you were very alone. Now you're not. You've allowed Ellen and Jo to treat you as a friend, and from what I hear you've become less of a..." He trailed off, briefly rethinking what he was about to say before ploughing ahead anyway. "As one of your colleagues put it, less of a 'pain in the ass' at work."

Dean barked a laugh. "That sounds like Bobby. Or Benny."

"I'm not naming names," Cas told him firmly. "I thought I was broken, until you showed me that there was nothing wrong with me. You taught me to believe in myself, and proved to me that I mattered - that my life meant something."

Dean took a sip of his drink, swallowing it around the lump in his throat.

Cas moved his hand to Dean's. "I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you," he said sincerely. "And I think, in a way, you wouldn't be either. Your heart might have been beating as you got through each day, but can you honestly tell me that it was living?"

Dean shook his head.

"So yes, I think we're different - but I do not think that's a bad thing."

Dean looked up at Cas, a little intimidated by his unwavering resolve.

Just as quickly as Cas had taken Dean's hand, he let it go again. Was he trying to be discreet, or wary of unnerving Dean?

"What made you ask that?"

"The potted crab," Dean revealed, laughing at the bewildered look on Cas's face. "It was a, uh, line of thought."

"I vowed to be patient and give you the time you need, but I keep worrying that you're having second thoughts," Cas admitted softly.

"I don't want to be without you, Cas."

"You keep saying that, but it's not the same as wanting to be with me."

"Yeah, I guess it's not," Dean agreed quietly. But he moved his hand a few inches to the side, resting just beside Castiel's on the top of the table.

It was a casual, yet intimate gesture, and not one that Cas had expected. He appreciated the effort Dean was making, and as their conversation took a lighter, less serious tone, Dean's hand stayed there - only moving when Ellen brought their food over.

He wondered if she had noticed, because now she was giving them a strange look as well - and he found himself unable to hold her gaze. Ellen - and Jo - had been good friends to them both. Hiding his relationship with Dean from her, and asking Jo to keep their secret, felt too much like lying.

"Do you guys want more drinks?" she asked, still looking at Cas carefully.

Castiel opened his mouth to refuse, as his glass of soda was still half full - as was Dean's - but Dean spoke first.

"Yeah, you could bring us another couple."

"Same again?" she asked.

"Yeah," Dean told her.

"I'll get Jo to bring them over."

Cas nodded his agreement. He supposed that ordering another drink now would save him having to catch her attention later when it might be busier.

"She's looking at us strangely, as well," Cas told him.

"Yeah."

So he wasn't the only one to have noticed.

Dean cleared his throat. "You're, uh, not going to say anything to her? Right?"

"Of course not!" Castiel felt insulted that Dean would even feel the need to ask. "It's not my place to 'out' you, as Balthazar would say."

"I just thought... 'cause she's your friend, too... that you might want to tell her. I mean, you told Jo."

"I do," Cas agreed. "But I won't say anything until you're ready because it's something that doesn't just affect me."

Dean looked a little relieved, and nodded his acceptance. "Okay."

"But you must know it won't change the way they see you?" Cas asked him. "They've been incredibly supportive of me. And Ellen doesn't seem the least bit bothered that Jo has a friend who's a lesbian."

"Yeah. I know."

Castiel put a hand on Dean's arm. "When you're ready, Ellen will accept you. Ash, too."

Dean swallowed thickly and looked down at his burger. "I know I can sometimes put my foot in my mouth," he joked, changing the subject, "but I don't think I can get my mouth around that."

Castiel chuckled.

"I'm going to need a bigger mouth."

"Or you could just use your cutlery."

Dean looked unhappy, but seemed to accept that he was going to have to. As he shoved a huge forkful of meat into his mouth and chewed, his jaw fell slack in delight.

Castiel was glad he wasn't sitting opposite so he didn't have to see his mouthful of half-chewed food.

Dean tried to say something that came out in an incoherent mumble, but his expression of pleasure was obvious.

"Good?" he asked wryly.

Dean swallowed. "Oh, yeah," he said, immediately attacking his dinner with his cutlery again. "How's your crab?"

"Very nice," Cas told him. A more modest meal than Dean's, his crab came with a side salad and two slices of toasted soda bread.

Jo returned at that moment with their drinks and asked them the same question.

"Lovely, thank you," Cas told her.

Dean had his mouth full again so flashed her a thumbs up, his cheeks bulging as he grinned.

She left them alone again, and they ate their meals in relative silence.

Castiel finished his before Dean, and found himself watching the other man eat for several minutes. He certainly enjoyed eating, if the pleased noises were anything to go by. It was no wonder Dean carried a little extra weight around his waist - barely noticeable when he was clothed. But on the few occasions Dean walked around their small apartment in his underwear, Cas had noticed. And he liked it. Dean played up his tough-guy exterior but, when he shed his clothes, he shed a little bit of his front with them. Cas adored how his underlying softness showed in those moments, both physically and in his actions.

Eventually Dean noticed him staring, and stopped chewing. "You want to try a bit?" he asked around his mouthful of food, pointing at his plate with his fork.

Cas shook his head. "No," he smiled.

"'Cause you're staring."

"I'm just looking at you."

A faint pinkness blossomed across Dean's cheeks as he resumed chewing.

"You're a very beautiful man, Dean," he told him sincerely.

Dean's face hardened slightly, conflicting with the way his blush deepened at Castiel's words.

He'd reacted in a similar way before, Cas remembered then, when he'd been complimented on his looks. He wondered if it had something to do with the way Dean seemed self-conscious about his body, or if there was some other, deeper reason for his reaction to flattery.

As Dean shoved another forkful of food in his mouth, Castiel's admiring gaze fell on his lips. He knew what they felt like against his own, but he found himself wondering what they might feel like on other areas of his body; his chest, his stomach, the inside of his thighs... He glanced away and shifted slightly as his internal thoughts threatened to manifest themselves in external ways, and he slid the menu closer to look at the desserts.

Dean would probably want pie if he had any room left after his burger. There wasn't much eating in ice cream, and after such a light dinner Cas would want something a little more filling. The sticky toffee pudding sounded nice, while spotted dick sounded very strange.

He suddenly found himself wondering if Dean's face and shoulders weren't the only places those freckles were sprinkled...

A warm flush came over him, and he tried to control his thoughts and - thereby - his body.

"I don't think I could eat anything else," Dean said finally, pushing his plate away.

"So you don't want to look at the desserts?"

Dean looked from him to the menu. "No," he said regretfully, dropping his head back against the leather seat and rubbing a hand across his stomach. "Oh, but that was good."

Castiel didn't want to be the only one having dessert, so turned his attention to the drinks menu. He usually just drank beer with Dean, or soda, so he checked out their other options instead.

"They have a whole section of mocktails," Cas informed him.

Dean scoffed.

"I think I'll have a 'Cuddle on the Beach'," he mused aloud.

He'd had one before and been ridiculed by Balthazar for being a lightweight, but then Zeke had spent the night alternating between alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks as well - and by the time their group of friends left, they were the only two who could walk in a straight line.

"You can have a cuddle in the Roadhouse," Dean laughed, throwing an arm around him in jest.

Castiel chuckled and leaned into Dean ever so slightly.

"Finished?" Jo asked, causing Dean to immediately withdraw his arm from around Cas's shoulders. When they nodded, she started picking up their plates. "Do you guys want anything else?"

"Can I have a 'Cuddle on the Beach', please?"

"Still or sparkling? We can make it both ways."

"Oh, um, sparkling please." It would be a little different to the last time he'd had one.

"Dean?"

"No way. I couldn't eat another thing."

Castiel nudged him and pointed at another mocktail - 'Caramel Apple Pie Mocktail'.

"What the hell?" Dean shot upright in his seat to read the description. "Dude, that is just wrong. I'm having one. There's no way that can be good."

Jo peered at where Cas was pointing and rolled her eyes. "You don't have to eat everything that has 'pie' in it."

"Not everything. When Cas has pie in him, I don't eat him."

Castiel's face grew warm and Jo started laughing.

It took another second for Dean to realise the innuendo in what he'd said and he slowly sank back in his seat. "Shit," he sighed, knowing there was no way he could take it back. That's what he got for trying to be a smartass, he supposed.

"So does that mean you do eat him when he doesn't have pie in him?" Jo teased, still chuckling.

Dean just glared at her, and she howled with laughter all the way back to the bar. Cas patted Dean's knee in solidarity.

"We're supposed to be celebrating," Cas reminded him gently. "Don't let her get to you."

"I'm not," Dean huffed, picking up a beermat and trying to spin it on its corner.

"Mmhmm," Cas hummed, not buying into his denial at all. He shifted sideways in his seat, folding one knee beneath him as he leaned against the wall to look at Dean. "She's just kidding around."

"I know."

Cas sighed softly, wondering how their celebratory dinner had become anything but. "Tell me about Ben," he demanded softly.

When Dean looked at him, the light in his eyes had been rekindled. "Ben? He's awesome. You'll love him, Cas, I just know it. He's a great kid - likes classic rock, loves his mom."

"Like a mini you, then?" Cas smiled.

"Yeah. Only a lot smarter."

"You're smart," Cas told him, refusing to let Dean belittle himself.

"Maybe," Dean conceded. "But he's smarter."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Dean."

"He's got to have grown up a lot," Dean continued as if Cas had never interrupted. "I don't know if he'll still be the same kid he was when Lisa left with him."

"He may have grown up, but he won't have changed beyond recognition," Cas assured him. "Even if he is different to what you remember, the little boy you helped to raise will still be in there somewhere."

"I hope so," Dean said hollowly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet. Tucked inside was a photo he removed to show Castiel. "Growing up with a father - or I guess a father-figure - who's not around enough can leave you feeling like a part of you is missing."

Castiel looked from the photo to Dean, knowing that he was talking from personal experience.

"I don't want to have messed him up by not being around."

"He wrote to you," Cas reminded him. "He kept the lines of communication open. You said Lisa told you that he wants to see you. Stop worrying, and be happy!"

"You're probably right, Cas, but—"

"Stop thinking the worst."

"Hey, guys, sorry about the wait. I had to— Is that him?!" Jo exclaimed, seeing the photo in Dean's hand.

"Yeah," he said, moving it out of the way in case she spilled their drinks over it.

When they had their drinks, he let her see. A squeal left her lips as she snatched it from his grasp. "He's so cute!"

"He's too young for you," Dean teased, carefully taking the picture back from her.

She gave him a punch in the arm for his sass. "He looks like you."

Longing and hope swelled up in Dean's chest. "Nah." He dismissed her observation, though the thought had crossed his mind more than once.

"He does, a little bit," Cas agreed, craning his neck to take a second look.

Dean slipped the photo back into his wallet before they could get him overthinking this again. He'd never thought he'd ever be a dad, and if he and Cas worked out then it would never happen. But, thinking about Ben, he realised that he wanted the opportunity.

Even if there was a chance that Ben was his, he'd missed out on so much with the boy by coming into his life when he was eight years old.

Cas and Jo were still chatting away, but he ignored them and picked up his drink. A tentative sip had a tangy burst of apple flavour exploding across his tongue, accompanied by the sweetness of the caramel syrup. Although it had more of an artificial flavour to it, it was definitely reminiscent of an apple pie and actually had Dean longing for one. He wondered if Cas would bake him one at the weekend if he asked nicely.

"Well, it's not disgusting," Dean said, taking another sip. "But I don't know if I'd have it again."

Cas took a mouthful of his mocktail and smiled.

"Good?" Dean asked him.

"Very."

"So do you guys want your bill, or are you going to hang out here a bit longer?"

Cas looked at Dean. "We should probably head home soon and check on Chuck."

Dean nodded his head in agreement. He needed to see the other Chuck as well when they got home. "Yeah, we'll take the bill now, thanks."

Jo was frowning at them. "Who's Chuck?"

"Just this stray cat Cas picked up."

"Kitten," Castiel corrected him.

"Say, you don't want a cat, do you?" Dean asked her. "Because we can't keep it."

Jo glanced over her shoulder at her mother. "I don't think either of us want an animal that's going to bring us other dead animals," she remarked. "So no. Good luck finding it a home, though."

He took another sip of his mocktail after Jo had left and commented, "You know, I can't decide if I like this or not."

"Can I?" Cas asked, pointing at the drink.

Dean slid his glass over to Cas, who offered Dean his own in return.

"That's... not bad, actually," Dean said, taking a second sip.

Cas, on the other hand, pulled a face. "Oh, no. I don't like that."

Dean laughed and they swapped drinks back.

"So is Lisa still asking that you refrain from drinking?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I just, uh... It's been nice, having a little extra cash this month. And I figured, if we want to take Ben out anywhere when he comes, it'd be good to save up a little more."

"That's very responsible of you," Cas told him.

Dean grinned. "Plus I have a crate of beer at home." His grin turned to laughter as Cas rolled his eyes.

Easter was still a few weeks away, but he couldn't wait for Ben to arrive. He just hoped that he and Cas would get on alright, because he didn't want to have to choose between two of the people that meant the most to him.

. * * * .

Cas drove them home from the Roadhouse, under Dean's watchful guidance. He'd only been behind the wheel a handful of times since his permit had arrived, but he hadn't crashed yet and Dean could breathe a little easier in the passenger seat with him now.

"Try pulling in here."

Castiel shot him a slightly worried look, and Dean tried not to let his concern over his car show. Usually Cas would get out and he'd slide over to park, but there was plenty of space today for him to make an attempt without needed to do too much steering.

"Okay, just reverse slowly up to that car behind us. You got it?" he checked, as Cas adjusted the gear stick. He shifted in his seat to look out the rear window. "Back up, back up, back up... Stop."

He jolted in his seat as Cas slammed his foot on the brake.

"Dude, I think you just gave me whiplash," he joked, rubbing his neck.

"Sorry," Cas said abashedly as he handed the keys back.

Dean stretched his neck from side to side, a satisfying pop on one side seeming to ease out some of the stiffness. "That's okay."

Cas looked like he was ready to leave the car, but was just waiting for him to move.

Dean slouched down in his seat slightly. "So, uh, sorry that wasn't really much of a celebration dinner," he said apologetically. He wanted to get it off his chest before they went inside.

"You treated us to a nice dinner," Cas reminded him.

"Yeah, but it was pretty low-key."

"That doesn't matter." Cas put a hand on Dean's thigh, stroking down to his knee. "It's what it meant to us."

Dean glanced over at him. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I kind of feel like maybe I ruined the mood a little, though."

Castiel's head tilted in puzzlement. "Why?"

"For bringing up all my crap with Balthazar again."

Understanding came over Castiel's face. "Is that where all that stuff about us 'being different' came from?"

Dean didn't answer, staring resolutely out the windscreen.

"Are you jealous?" Cas pressed, eager to understand and alleviate any concerns Dean had.

Dropping his head back against the headrest, Dean sighed. "I just think you deserve better than me, Cas. Someone who can take you out nice places, and hold your hand."

Castiel took one of Dean's hands in his own. "One day you'll hold my hand walking down the street," he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "And I don't care if the places we go to aren't 'nice', as long as it's you who takes me to them."

Dean looked at him. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"Absolutely," Cas promised him.

Dean stared a little longer at him, then nodded eventually. "Okay."

"Can we go in now?"

"Yeah," Dean smiled. "But I've got to stop in and see Mr Shurley on the way up."

"I can wait on you," Cas offered.

But Dean shook his head. "No," he said. "You go up and check on Chuck Norris."

Cas still looked mildly exasperated every time Dean called the kitten by its full name. "Okay. Do you want me to put some coffee on?"

"Oh, yeah," Dean replied with a satisfied noise.

"You're not going to be too long, are you?" Cas asked as Dean knocked on the building manager's door.

"I hope not. If he's even in..."

A second later they could hear the sound of the door unlocking, and Castiel made his way up the stairs alone.

"If this is about the elevator, I've been told it'll be working again by next week," Mr Shurley told him as soon as the door was open.

"Uh, it's not," Dean told him, trying to ignore the fact the other man was wearing a dressing gown.

"The water heater?"

"Nope."

"Oh." The other man looked puzzled. "Then what?"

Dean looked around, aware that anyone walking past could listen into their conversation. "Could we talk inside?"

"Sure."

Dean stepped inside, and followed the man into his living room. There were stacks of paper on just about every flat surface, which seemed to multiply every time Dean had reason to come around, and Dean perched on the edge of the sofa.

"Sit down," Mr Shurley told him, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Dean had already done so. "What do you need?"

"Uh, so I've had this guy - this friend - staying with me for a little while, now—"

"This would be the one in the trench coat who's been living in your apartment for, what, six months or so?"

Dean cringed. "I know my lease is only for one, which is why I'm here. Him staying was never meant to be permanent, but I - we - would like it to be. So, how do I get his name put on the lease?"

"I need his ID, social security number, proof of employment," Mr Shurley answered, ticking them off on his fingers. "And it's not as easy as just adding him to the lease - you need to sign a new lease."

Dean's stomach churned. He hadn't considered this. "But I've still got a few months left on the old lease - I can't afford to pay that off."

But Mr Shurley waved away his concerns. "That's not necessary, so long as we both agree that you're going to sign a new lease. And usually the monthly rent would increase as the number of occupants has also increased."

"Cas only works part-time," Dean said quickly, "and he's hoping to go back to uni, so I don't know if he's going to be able to keep working and study, 'cause he took some time out and—"

"It's fine," Mr Shurley said.

Dean stared at him. "Seriously?"

"I said the rent would usually go up. You're a good tenant, and I haven't had any problems with this guy since he's been here. Why do you think I haven't bothered saying anything to you about him?"

"That's..." he trailed off, lost for words. He'd assumed Mr Shurley hadn't noticed that Cas was living with Dean - not just visiting him frequently. "Seriously?" he asked again.

The building manager grinned. "Just bring me the paperwork, and I'll get a new lease written up for you both to sign."

Dean left the apartment and walked upstairs in a bit of a daze. He was so used to things in his life going wrong, that the feeling of something going right for a change had his head spinning. As he opened the door and shed his jacket, he opened his mouth to inform Cas he was home. But before any sound could come out, Castiel's panicked voice had him rushing to the kitchen.

"Dean!"

He barged in, belatedly checking that he hadn't smacked Chuck Norris with the door, then looked at Cas. "What's wrong?"

"Chuck's gone."

"Gone? What do you mean gone? There's nowhere for him to go!"

"He's not here!"

Castiel's face was wrought with loss, and Dean was almost tempted to promise to empty the local cat shelter if it'd take that look off his face. Almost, because he knew that no other cat would be able to take Chuck's place in Castiel's heart - after all, Cas had been the one to find him, feed him, vaccinate him, and care for him. Cas had saved the kitten's life just as Dean had saved his, and Dean knew that created an unspoken bond that could never be broken. He tried not to think of how hard it would be for Cas to say goodbye to Chuck Norris - if they managed to find him again.

He moved to Cas and pulled him into a hug. "We'll find him, okay? I promise."

Cas nodded. "Did you definitely close the kitchen door when you left?"

"Yeah. I mean, you opened it when you got in, right?"

Cas closed his eyes and shook his head. "Of course. Yes. Sorry."

"It's okay," Dean said.

"I didn't mean to sound like I was blaming you."

"You didn't," Dean assured him.

Castiel started looking through the cupboards in case Chuck had somehow managed to get inside one. "Chuck? Here, kitty."

Dean checked under the table, on the chairs, and the window ledge. He really couldn't see where else that damn cat could have gone. Searching for the cat wasn't how he'd planned on spending his evening, but nevertheless he joined Castiel on the floor and started searching through the next cupboard.

. * * * .

It took them almost an hour to check the cupboards, all but emptying each one in their search for Chuck Norris.

"What if he did get out of the room?" Dean asked.

"How?" Cas shot back. "The door was closed."

"I don't know!" Dean exclaimed. "All I know is that he's not here!"

"You never wanted him anyway," Cas pointed out as he put the contents back in the last cupboard.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, sniffing. Damn, it must nearly be time for him to take another allergy tablet.

"I don't know. Nothing. Just that you're not exactly going to miss him if we can't find him."

Dean sneezed. "But you are."

Castiel got to his feet with a heavy sigh, his knees cracking as his legs finally straightened out. "It wouldn't hurt to check the rest of the house," he conceded, but he didn't sound optimistic.

Dean didn't know what to say. He'd thought they would have found Chuck by now. He sneezed again, and moved towards the table for a tissue.

"Cas," he said, pointing at the tissue box.

"If we're out, write it on the list," Cas told him, leaning over the counter to try and see down the back of the refrigerator.

"No, look," Dean clarified.

Moving over to the table, Cas smiled in relief when he noticed the little bundle of fur safely tucked up inside the tissue box.

"I guess he can get up on the chairs, after all," Dean realised aloud.

"What are you doing in there?" he cooed, trying to encourage the small creature out. "You scared us, vanishing like that."

Dean heard a mewl of protest as he watched Castiel rip the hole bigger and coax him out.

"Don't do that again," he murmured to the animal, burying his face in its fur.

One paw reached out in Dean's direction, almost like a plea for help.

"Oh, don't look at me like that!" Dean told the kitten. "You're the one who decided to play hide-and-seek for an hour."

Chuck Norris meowed pathetically. When Castiel finally released his grip on him, he scampered off to the opposite side of the room where he began grooming himself.

Like a lost duck that had finally found its mother, Castiel followed Chuck across the room and sat down beside him. When the kitten finished grooming its fur, it clambered into Castiel's lap to be petted.

Warmth filled Dean's heart at the smile which lit up Cas' face now that he was reunited with Chuck Norris. Watching him interact with the ginger furball - with the relaxed happiness that they both exuded - Dean grew envious of how freely Cas loved the kitten, and it loved him back. The familiar churning of jealousy in his gut took him back to every time Cas brought up Balthazar's name, or Dean compared himself to Castiel's friend. Ignoring that thought, he wished to himself that Cas could be that open with him; that he didn't feel the need to hold back his affections just because Dean was uncomfortable.

He thought back to the Castiel who had first moved in with him - helpless and lost, afraid to be himself, feeling like he didn't have a place in the world... It was a far cry from the Cas who was now lying on his stomach while the cat licked his hair.

"Good luck grooming that," he joked.

Cas chuckled, and brought a hand to his unruly hair. "Maybe I should try cutting it shorter."

"Don't."

Cas looked up at him and smiled. "Okay."

As Castiel turned his attention back to Chuck Norris, Dean promised himself that he would say whatever Pamela wanted him to, and do whatever she wanted him to, because he wanted Cas to be able to be like that with him all the time - not just in the little moments when they were alone.