Saturday morning, Dean woke up to the vibrating of his phone. He groaned and rolled away, wanting to just go back to sleep. He and Cas had stayed out until almost 3 AM just driving. They didn't talk much so as not to disturb Meg, asleep and slumped up against the passenger door window, but it felt like they'd been talking for years.

When Dean had dropped them off at Meg's house, she hugged him, pulled him tight, and assured him she'd never needed his damn help in the first place. Dean was starting to see why Cas liked her.

And then he'd looked at Cas and all he wanted to do was pull him into a hug, hold him close so he could feel his warmth like he had when they were in the car, when they sat so close with Dean's arm slung over the back of the seat and Cas was pressed up against him. Dean ached to touch the muscle in his thigh and the firmness of his shoulder, the heat of what made up Castiel.

Dean's chest could still feel the vibration of Cas's low chuckle in the quiet car. He could still smell that faint hint of fresh snow that seemed to follow Cas around. The whole drive, Dean had been at ease, comfortable with himself in a way he rarely was. No pressure to appease or amuse, no need to pretend to be anything other than who he was, and he knew Cas accepted him that way. It was a comfortable way to be and he wanted more of it.

But there was the other side. The ache in his arm when he thought about dropping his hand from the back of the seat around Cas's shoulder. The tingle of his side when he imagined Cas dropping his hand to his thigh. The dryness of his lips as he dragged his tongue across them, wanting to not just hug but kiss Cas goodnight.

It was a new feeling. To enjoy someone's company and want to just be near them, but to also want to touch and kiss. Usually, for him, it was one or the other. Never both. And never with guys.

He didn't know if that made him gay or whatever, but as his mind kept returning to Cas, he didn't really care. So far in his life, he'd touched when he wanted to touch, taken what he'd wanted to take, why should that change now. Just because he'd never touched or taken a dude before didn't mean he didn't want it, or that it wouldn't feel good. Kissing Cas would have to be amazing. His mind drifted back to the full body press of a kiss he'd seen Meg and Cas share… if that's how he kissed when he wasn't interested, what was he like when he was?

Would feel different if it was anyone but Cas. He couldn't imagine himself with Victor or Gordon or some other guy from school. Being physical with girls was so easy, but then he never knew how to talk to them, to be himself. He really wanted to spend more time with Cas and be allowed to touch him with the same ease they spoke. Was it possible Cas felt the same? The dude was so weird, it was impossible to assume anything.

The guy just did something to him and knowing that it wasn't going to be an issue outside of his head made it take on the feeling of fantasy, like having a crush on a character from your favorite TV show. It was never going to fucking happen, so what did it matter if he indulged in thinking about it. He'd never have to say it out loud or think about it beyond what he allowed himself, so it was a safe, private desire. He'd just have to learn to endure its burn.

His phone vibrated again. For Fuck's Sake.

He checked his phone and it was a text from Cas.

Cas: Good Morning, Dean. I wanted to thank you again for your assistance last night.

Dean: No worries, man. How is Meg today?

Cas: Feeling much better. Still shook up

Dean: I'm not surprised. How are you?

Cas: Fine

Dean: You have that little frown that means you're lying, don't you?

Cas: No, because I'm not

Dean: Liar

Cas: You are exceedingly frustrating

Dean: That one was the truth, but you still haven't answered my question

Cas: I am...

The three dots started and stopped for a long time

Cas: ...frustrated with myself for letting Meg down

Dean: You can't be with her all the time dude

Cas: Logically, I know that

Dean: and yet

Cas: and yet

Dean: I understand. I'm like that with Sammy. If he has a bad day at school, all I want to do is make it better and feel bad I let it happen in the first place.

Cas: Yes, I suppose it's similar

Dean: Although I don't make out with Sammy…

Cas: Still obsessing about that kiss I see

Dean blushed a little. He'd intended to tease Cas not turn the attention back on himself.

Dean: No

Cas: Now who's lying?

Dean chuckled and rolled over in bed, his phone cradled in his hand as he snuggled back into his pillow.

Dean: So what are you doing today?

Cas: Avoiding people

Dean couldn't hold back the eye roll and smile that came over him as he read Cas's response. It was so 100% Castiel.

Dean: So same thing as every day, Pinkie?

Cas: Pinkie? I assure you, Dean, I am not a communist

Dean: No, Cas, that's Pinko… Nevermind. I need to start compiling a list of movies and shows for you to watch

Cas: It's challenging to get time with the television here. I tend to prefer to read than ruffle anyone's feathers

Dean: You wanna come here? We could hang out, have a movie night

Cas: Will Bobby be there?

Dean: Cas, he's cool. I promise

Cas: But what if…

Dean: What if what? Sam hasn't said anything. I haven't either. Unless you plan on whipping out the glowing eyes again like last night, there's nothing for him to suspect.

Cas: I should thank you for that, as well. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there.

Dean: I'm relatively certain you would have set Crowley on fire with your eyeballs

Cas: It's possible. I'd rather not talk about him

Dean: Alright, but at some point, you'll have to tell me what the fuck the deal is with Crowley

Cas: That's Meg's story to tell

Dean: I respect that

Cas: So…

Dean: Hang out for a while? Movies? Order a pizza?

Cas: Okay, Dean. I'll be there around 2 if that works

Dean: Yeah, that works

Cas: I'll see you soon

Dean thought about sending another text, but he really didn't have anything to say. It was like that stupid game where neither person wants to hang up the phone so you just keep saying goodbye to keep hearing the other person's voice.

He sighed. He shouldn't be this giddy about having a friend over, but he couldn't take the stupid smile off his face.

Dean spent the rest of the morning flipping his phone over from front to back while working on some homework and munching on peanut butter toast at the kitchen table. He wasn't checking for texts from Cas. Obviously. If a text came in his phone would chime anyway. Why would he be looking for texts from him? He was coming over later.

Dean checked the time and flipped his phone over again.

"You spelled that wrong," Sam said, whipping into the kitchen and grabbing an apple. He hopped up on the kitchen counter and swung his feet, staring at Dean.

"Whatever."

"It's hom-E-ostasis, not homostasis."

"Alright, smartypants. You want to do the rest of my work for me too?"

Sam chewed his apple as he spoke, "I just don't want you to get kicked out for not being able to do 4th-grade spelling."

"Screw you, bitch."

"Jerk," Sam laughed, jumping off the counter and rummaging through the cabinets. "What are you doing today? I finished my homework. Some people are going to the lake tomorrow but I haven't asked Bobby yet."

"So, you want me to vouch for you and drive you there?"

"If you would," Sam gave him puppy eyes and a big smile.

"Okay, if you do my English homework, it's another fucking poem and I got a D on the last one."

"Fine," Sam fake huffed and sat at the table to look at Dean's English assignment.

Dean wished Sam could do his chem homework too, maybe his Algebra. Dean flipped through the assignment and textbook so many times even Sam got annoyed with him. His brain just couldn't retain anything. It was like as soon as he flipped away from the page he was reading, all of it just disappeared, especially with the amount of memorization he had to do for this class. He plowed through though, this was the price for being able to have a stress-free day with Cas. If he could tell Bobby he'd gotten a good chunk of work done when Cas got there, they'd be left alone, and even though Dean couldn't place his finger on why, he really wanted to be alone with Cas. No Meg. No Sam. Just them.

Cas was easier when it was just them too. They hadn't had a lot of it, but the dude was funny in a whacked-out way and thoughtful. Something about him calmed Dean down, too, made it easier to listen and think like he slowed everything down and gave Dean time to breathe.

Cas: I'm here

Dean looked up and the clock on the stove said 1:59

Dean: Come on in. I'm in the kitchen

Cas: I'll wait here

Dean: Bobby isn't even home. Stop being weird

Dean heard the front door open and close gently as if someone had guided it shut instead of slamming it. He could feel Cas's approach before we heard him. Dean turned in his chair and watched as he walked in. He had on those stupid big boots again and skin-tight black jeans. Dean had only seen him in long sleeve shirts or layers or sweaters, but today it was warm out with a nice breeze and Cas had worn just a simple black t-shirt.

Dean's mouth went dry.

Cas's skin was pale but had a glow to it. Dean imagined that with enough sun, he'd be golden. His hair stood out in all directions like he'd just come through a wind tunnel.

Dean stood and when Cas caught his eye, Dean's chest tightened. He'd meant to smile but he stepped back, overwhelmed as Cas's smile split across his face. He fucking beamed, his nose crinkline and his dimples popping, even his eyes seemed to sparkle. It became the only thing he could see. The only thing that mattered in the whole universe. The feeling that spread through him, knowing that smile was for him, made him the heroine of every chick-flick, made-for-tv, Hallmark Channel, Daytime Soap style movie.

"Heya, Cas," Dean smiled, not holding back his excitement.

"Hello, Dean."

"I didn't hear your car."

"Oh, I walked."

Dean frowned. "What, did you start walking as soon as we stopped texting? I could have come and gotten you."

Cas stepped up to Dean, just a little too close, and Dean's pulse sped up. The hairs on his arms tingled where Cas was closest. Dean's breath was short, but he shrugged it off, unable to move away if he wanted to.

"It's fine, Dean. I walked quickly and I enjoy being out. Plus, you don't want to come to where I live. It's… it's unpleasant."

"Do you, wanna like, talk about it?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

Cas chuckled. "No, thank you. I'm used to it and I spend as little time there as I can. I'll age out next year. I'd just rather not subject you to them."

"Okay, well, remember you can always crash here, or I can drive you wherever if you need a ride, like in the rain when you can't walk." Dean rested his hand on Cas's bicep, squeezing just a touch to show his sincerity. He definitely wasn't losing his shit over the unexpected hardness beneath his fingers. Definitely not.

"That's kind of you, unnecessary, but kind." Cas's smile was smaller and he lowered his eyes, shoulders slumping forward a little, more like how he stood at school. Like he was trying to avoid drawing attention to himself.

Dean's hand still held Cas's arm.

"Castiel! Hi! Why are you here? Did something happen?" Sammy ran into the room, dropped Dean's spiral notebook on the table, and leaned against the wall.

Dean dropped his hand.

Generally, Dean loved having his little brother around. Despite the age difference, the little dude was his best friend and the only person who knew what his life had been like before moving in with Bobby. He still spent most of his time taking care of Sam and trying to fill in all the things parents should have done for them. Bobby was amazing, but he wasn't their Dad. As they got older, they had more and more in common and Dean felt less like he had to teach Sam and more like he could just enjoy the cool kid he'd turned out to be. Sam being damn smart helped close the age gap that much more. But right now, he wished Sam would just fuck right the fuck off.

"No, nothing happened. Should I be concerned about something?" Cas asked.

"No, I was just excited to see you," Sam babbled. "Any more thoughts about what you might be? I still think alien is the most likely option. I mean, it checks all the boxes so far. Nothing else we've ever seen-I mean read about-comes close. I thought we could make a list of abilities and attributes and-"

"Sam," Dean snapped. "Cas isn't here for monsters. We're just hanging out."

"Oh, cool!" Sam didn't move.

"Come on, Cas," Dean grunted, walking out the kitchen door to the back porch. He could hear Cas clomping behind him in those stupid boots that shouldn't be so fucking hot and his brother babbling away asking Cas what classes he was taking and if he thought Sam should take Honors classes (which of course he should), and where he wanted to go to college, and…

"Sam! Leave him alone, huh? Go enjoy having the house to yourself for a while, jack off somewhere other than the shower for once."

"Eww, Dean!" Sam blushed crimson.

"Dean, was that necessary?" Cas scolded with a little smile.

"Well yeah, otherwise he'll pester you all day. You have all dinner and movies later to flirt with Cas, Sammy."

"Shut up," Sam blushed and turned back into the house. The door slammed shut behind him.

"How is it that you and your brother bicker so fiercely and yet you seem to love each other so much?" Cas asked, his head tilted like an owl.

"That's just how brothers are, I think. Plus, Sammy and I have been through some shit, so that makes us closer."

"I thought brothers behaved more like the other guys where I live." Cas lowered his eyes, a look of sadness on his face appearing and quickly disappearing. If Dean didn't know Cas, he'd think he'd imagined it.

"Let's take the Junktrunk out, I'll show you around, and you can tell me about it." Dean led the way out of the small yard and into the junkyard. There was an old pickup with no doors or windshield and two propane tanks strapped onto the bed. The keys dangled in the ignition because who in their right fucking mind was going to steal this monstrosity. Dean jumped in and smiled at Cas as he stood on the passenger's side, frowning.

"This is not a real vehicle," he growled.

"That depends on your definition."

"Are there any original parts remaining?"

I don't know, maybe the floorboards? Nah, those would have rusted out by now. I bet the steering wheel is." Dean flashed his brightest smile. "Trust me."

"I do," Cas said, climbing into the passenger's seat and searching for a seat belt. "No safety restraints?"

"Good thing I have you to heal me if anything happens," Dean winked and turned the key. He drove quickly, giving Cas the two-dollar tour of the junkyard, pointing out some of the rare or bizarre things that had been rusting away, piled and parked into rows and columns, making it searchable.

Dean drove them around, pointing out some of his personal favorites—the motorcycle some guy totaled as he pulled out of the dealership, and the rusty Impala Dean had pulled the passenger door from when he needed to replace his. Bobby had taught him all about how to work on his own car when his Dad left it for him, and now he worked at the garage learning about other kinds of cars. He loved it, but no one ever wanted to listen.

Cas didn't say much but he didn't miss a word. If Dean petered out, feeling self-conscious, he'd ask a question about whatever Dean had been rambling about, encouraging him to talk.

To most people, this place was just a trash heap. The few times before he'd tried to have friends over, they would laugh at him, tell the other kids at school that he lived in a dump. But to Dean, the scrapyard was beautiful, and Bobby kept their living space away from it. It's not like the house butted right up against a pile of cars. He'd never brought Lisa or any of his current friends here, just knowing they'd be asses about it. But with Cas, it didn't even occur to Dean that he might think less of him because of where he lived.

It never occurred to him not to share the things he loved inside this little bubble they'd created of secrets and trust.

After another 20 minutes of driving, Dean pulled alongside an old bus that had a tree growing through the inside and out the skylight.

"This has always been my favorite place. Even before I could drive this thing, I used to come out here when I wanted to be alone."

"Thank you for showing me," Cas nodded, looking at the dilapidated bus.

"I haven't shown you shit yet," Dean smiled widely, excited all over again. He wanted to take Cas's hand so badly, but clenched his hands into fists instead. If he let himself relax, he'd take his hand and pull him into his favorite place on earth and kiss him until they were breathless until his body took over and made up for the fact that his brain didn't know what he wanted beyond that.

But he had no idea what Cas would think of that. Not even an inkling. Most people, he could read pretty well. That's how he'd gotten through school when his grades weren't able to keep up or when his Dad used to move them around, he flirted and charmed and talked his way out of every situation. He could read people and know just what buttons to press to piss them off or get him what he wanted. It worked well with girls, and he knew who of his friends might be into him. Gordon would never be interested. Victor probably would at least consider it. Garth? Nah, he didn't swing that way, but of all his friends, he would care the least if Dean did.

Cas, though, as usual, was unknowable. And Dean was a chickenshit.

Dean climbed over the old Mitsubishi between them and the bus and looked back to offer Cas a hand, but he was already there, right behind him. "Careful, you don't want to get tetanus."

"I don't think I can contract tetanus."

"No, right, obviously."

They scrambled to where the door of the bus used to be and climbed inside. The seats had mostly been removed, leaving a floor of glass and dirt and animal leavings. Dean climbed out the window closest to the tree and then up onto the roof, using the tree limbs to keep his balance. Once on the roof, he looked down for Cas in time to watch him swing himself out the window and climb up to the top like he'd been doing it his whole life.

Under cover of the lone tree that had grown up around the old bus, Dean watched as Castiel took in the view. The vehicle was placed on an incline but the footing was flat, making the roof a long stable platform.

"If you look up the hill, you'll see there are fewer cars. That's the direction we'll grow in if we get more in than moves out. It's all overgrown now. But if you look out this way, you can see the whole scrap yard. And our house back by the trees." Dean looked over his kingdom of possibilities and smiled.

"There's so much beauty here," Cas said, standing perfectly still, shoulder to shoulder with Dean.

"You think?"

"I know you think so, too." Cas smiled at him and then looked back out. "I can see this place through your eyes now and all the potential that's contained within what other people have discarded as having more life in them. There are new, impossible uses just waiting to be discovered." Cas bumped his shoulder against Dean lightly, "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Yeah... sure, man." Dean flushed, feeling the side of Cas's bare arm against his own.

Cas wandered up and down the bus, testing the roof's stability before laying down in the middle and staring up at the sky. They'd spent most of the day out here and it was still early spring, so the sun was low, but it wasn't cold yet. At least Dean didn't notice it with the way looking at Cas made his blood simmer just below boiling.

Dean laid next to him, not sure what else to do. He clasped his hands on his chest and enjoyed the silence. His life was rarely quiet, and his mind even less so. But lying here, watching clouds float across the sky, everything was still.

"Did you enjoy the party last night?" Cas asked into the space between them. "Other than the regrettable end that is."

"Ehh, it was okay. I mean, Milligan pulled off a great bash but I had kind of a shitty time, to be honest."

"Really?" Cas turned his head, brows low and concerned. "Why?"

"Um, well, I broke up with Lisa."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"Nah, don't be. It wasn't a big thing to begin with."

"But you must have cared about her to some degree. Did something happen to change that?"

Dean sighed, put one of his arms over his eyes, and the other laid on the bus roof. It took him a minute to put together his thoughts.

Cas didn't make a sound.

"So, I found out she'd been making out with Ruby when they hung out without me the other day, and then she wanted me to like, I don't even know, have group sex with Ruby and Gordon, which really isn't my thing. I mean, the whole two girls thing is hot, but I wasn't really even asked. She just assumed it was okay and that I would jump right in."

"Hmmm, so she cheated on you," Cas said when he paused.

Dean shrugged, tucked the arm over his eyes behind his head, and turned to face Cas. His expression was neutral but his eyes unblinking in their intensity. Dean felt like confessing every mean thing he'd ever done, every act that made him unworthy of a friend like Cas, but he knew that even if he did, Castiel would forgive him. It was overwhelming, lying there like this with so much honesty laid bare.

Dean licked his lips.

"Meg is what pushed me over the edge."

Cas squinted and Dean imagined that if he wasn't lying down his head would be tilted to one side.

"Lisa was just so mean. I don't know if I'd never seen it before or if I hadn't cared. And I hate what kind of person that might make me, but Meg was scared, man. Like, even with all her bravado, I could feel it radiating off of her, and for her to come to me—that took a lot of fucking guts. And then Lisa was a bitch about even getting her a glass of water. And then she expected me to leave Meg just to go off and have some orgy, while she was still freaking out." He shook his head and looked back up at the sky.

"That's not the kind of person I want to be, and it's not the kind of person I want to be with." Dean sighed. "So I probably have no friends now, but I guess that's better than hating myself."

"You have me," Cas breathed. Dean barely heard him and didn't dare turn to look.

"Thanks, Cas." Dean let the soft smile that twitched on his lips escape for a moment.

"And Meg," Cas continued. "Meg is your friend. She's prickly and self-sabotaging at times, but she has a good heart. You have similar senses of humor actually, all acidic and sardonic."

"Ok, I'll look those words up when we get back." Dean chuckled.

"Don't play dumb, Dean. It's not attractive." Cas scolded and Dean's cheeks flushed, pink quickly turning to red as the idea of Cas finding him attractive washed over him.

They lay quietly for a while. Side by side, hands near each other between their bodies, the quiet somehow both crackling with tension and soothing. Dean nearly jumped when he felt the touch of Cas's pinkie run along the side of his hand. His breath stuttered and a flutter of nerves ran through his hand, up his arm, and into his chest. It had to have been a mistake, an accident.

"So, where were you when I called last night?" Dean coughed, trying to keep the tightness out of his voice.

"On the roof."

Dean chuckled, "You never say what I expect, dude."

"Oh?" Cas's smile shone in his voice. "And what did you expect?"

"Oh, I don't know, like that you were in the bathroom, or talking somebody up, or in the pool, or passed out drunk."

"It takes much more than watered-down beer to get me drunk."

"High tolerance, good to know," Dean looked over and winked. Cas gave another dimpled smile that made Dean feel like he was disintegrating into the bus top.

They both looked back to the sky and Cas slid his pinkie beneath Dean's.

Dean shivered and wished he knew what Cas was thinking. He and Meg were touchy. Maybe this was just Cas. It was the first time Cas had touched him despite Dean seemingly unable to keep his hands off the dude and it felt fucking amazing. He wondered if it had something to do with him breaking up with Lisa. He was technically single now. Did that mean Cas was interested in him? His chest constricted and he forgot where he was for a moment. What would he do if he was? Dean shut his eyes and tried not to think about it beyond how good the light touch of Cas's finger against his skin felt.

"So why were you on the roof, was there like another group of people hanging out up there or something?"

"No, I was alone… in a manner of speaking."

"Cas, you're being weird again. Just tell me." Dean smiled, Cas's feather-light touch the only thing he was aware of in the universe aside from the deep gravelly voice next to him.

"I've never told anyone this. It's… uncomfortable. I feel… exposed."

"You don't have to tell me, Cas. I'm not gonna be mad if you wanna keep it to yourself."

Cas nodded and breathed loudly.

"There's a song in my head. Most of the time, it's just beyond my hearing, and I can ignore it. Sometimes it's a little louder and I can almost make out the words but it's like someone has a stereo on in the background. For some reason, that night, it was loud, loud enough I could almost recognize some of the words like they were painting images in my head, symbols."

"Woah, maybe you are psychic."

"No, then they should have been from the people around me. This got louder the higher up I went, until I ended up on the roof, listening, straining like my body thought it could get higher but didn't know how."

"Maybe you can fly," Dean offered.

"No wings." Cas chuckled. "But I feel terrible I let Meg down and that you had to deal with Crowley. Hopefully, he'll forget all about you. Actually, hopefully, you'll never see him again."

"He's really as bad of a dude as Meg acted like he was?"

Cas turned to look at him and wrapped his pinkie firmly around Dean's. "Worse. If he comes near you, find me. Don't even talk to him, okay? I don't want you hurt. I couldn't..."

"But you can handle him?"

"I can," Cas's voice left no room for argument.

"Alright, Cas. If I see him again, I'll call you."

Cas let out a long exhale and seemed to relax, his body melting back down to Earth. "Thank you, Dean."

"We should head back, it's getting dark, and we still have movies to watch." Dean pulled his hand away slowly, immediately missing even that tiny bit of contact.

The drive home was quiet—Dean lost in his thoughts, and Cas looking out at the scrap yard. They didn't speak when he parked the Junktrunk or when Dean headed toward the house, Cas following close behind. It wasn't until they got to the back porch steps that Cas sighed and Dean felt his hesitancy.

"Do you think he'll like me?" Cas didn't look at Dean and the difference from his usual constant eye contact worried Dean.

"You mean Bobby?"

Cas nodded and Dean stepped closer, placing his hand on Cas's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I don't know what's got you so twitchy. You usually don't care what people think."

"People, no—this is your father." Cas blinked up at Dean and something like real anxiety flashed in them.

"Well, no. But my dad sucks, so you really shouldn't care what he thinks." Dean gave Cas a smile but he just frowned deeper.

"But Bobby lives with you, cares for you. If he doesn't like me, you might decide not to either." Cas looked away, back to the junkyard.

"Cas, buddy, that's not gonna happen. I mean, Bobby's gonna love you, so it doesn't matter anyway, but even if he didn't, I'm seventeen. I can decide for myself who I wanna hang out with. Honestly, you're one of the only people I'd even bring here and I really like hanging out with you."

"And on Monday, I'll be Krazy Krushnic again." His frown deepened even further.

Dean took his hand off Cas's shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you really think that little of me? Fuck man, I can be my own person. I broke up with Lisa because of how she treated Meg. You think I'd stand by and let anybody treat you badly and not say anything?"

"Most people do, Dean."

"Well, not me. You're my friend. There isn't a compromise on that. I don't let people pick on Sammy either and he deserves it way more than you do." Dean gave a small smile, hoping to catch Cas's eye. "Why do you care anyway? You're always so stoic about shit."

"Stoic is an affect, Dean. I still have feelings." Cas grumbled. "Chuck, the man who runs the house where I live, doesn't like me. He's made it very clear I'm on my own when it comes to issues with the other guys, who also don't like me. School is basically a nine-hour exercise in patience. Other than Meg and a handful of teachers, I'm either ignored or outright ridiculed. But if I say anything or fight back, Principle Adler blames me and calls Chuck."

"Shit, man, I didn't know it was that bad."

Cas shrugged. "Most of the time, it doesn't bother me. I have Meg and she's fiercely loyal. But thinking about Bobby telling you not to hang out with me, or you being like everyone else at school…" Cas shrugged. Dean wasn't sure he'd ever seen Cas so vulnerable, even when he was afraid Dean might expose him as whatever he is.

"Cas, I promise, I'm not going anywhere, even on Monday. If it would make you feel better, you can hold my hand all day like you do with Meg," Dean flashed a teasing smile, but now that he'd said it, the idea flashed in his mind, and he found himself kind of wishing Cas would.

"Such a display isn't necessary, Dean. But I appreciate the gesture." He finally smiled and Dean was elated, like a balloon inside his chest was filling with warmth and… ahh fuck, he was turning into such a girl!.

"We could make out at my locker."

"Still obsessed with that kiss," Cas rolled his eyes and his easy smile fell back into place, loosening the tightness in Dean's chest.

Dean led the way inside and they almost walked into Bobby, who ignored them completely. "Sam's getting your movie set up since you two were off fuckin' around. You're on dish duty."

"Sure, Bobby," Dean smiled. "This is Castiel."

"Hello, sir," Cas stood and waited for a moment, expecting Bobby to acknowledge him but it never came.

"What ya doin' standin' here, boys? Go pick your damn movie before Sam puts on The Princess Diaries again. I'll get the meatloaf when it's done and bring it into ya."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean grabbed Cas's elbow and led the way to the couch where Sam was already sprawled out and flipping through Netflix.

"Nuh-uh—no way. You are not picking!" Dean said, pouncing on Sam and wrestling him for the remote.

Cas watched their antics, how they fought and laughed and tickled and fell off the couch eventually with a broad smile. "I'm so confused by this sibling behavior."

"This is only normal for the ones with dipshits for little brothers," Dean said, sitting on Sam's chest and flicking him in the face until Sam gave up and offered up the remote. "Don't forget it either," Dean said, sticking out his tongue.

Cas laughed again and joined them on the small couch, bodies tight together with Dean in the middle. It was… odd. To have his brother hanging on him on one side with Dean barely even aware they were touching and Cas a hair's breadth away on the other, where Dean could feel every shift in his posture, every moment of brief contact like the lick of lightning.

Dean turned on Raiders of the Lost Arc and the three of them settled down. Eventually, Sam grabbed some pillows and flopped down on the floor in front of him. Dean knew he should scoot over, but he didn't want to. It wasn't until Bobby came out and told them to pause their damn movie and get dinner that he reconsidered his seating.

They ate and watched the end of the movie before taking a pause to do the dishes. Sammy queued up the next movie and grabbed a package of Oreos for them to snack on while Dean hand washed and Cas dried.

"I just don't understand."

"What don't you understand? The movie is pretty straightforward. Was there something in the plot you didn't get?"

"No, it's just… Why is the character of Indiana Jones there at all."

"What?" Dean stopped washing, a hard, dangerous look on his face. "Because he's fucking awesome."

"Sure, with the whip and the hat… awesome. But as far as the plot goes, he really adds nothing."

"Castiel, you're going to want to think about your next words very carefully," Dean growled. Harrison Ford was nothing but hot. There was no room for argument and Dean would not stand for Indiana Jones to be disparaged in his own home.

"It's not an emotional issue. Logically Indiana Jones is irrelevant to the outcome of the story. If he weren't in the film, it would turn out exactly the same. The Nazis would have still found the Ark, taken it to the island, opened it up, and all died... just like they did."**

Dean glared at Cas, words caught in his throat. "I… There's… You don't… Well, you end up exactly the same!" he shouted and stormed out, leaving Cas to finish the dishes himself while chuckling.

When they queued up Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Dean still hadn't forgiven Cas and sat on the floor with Sam. Halfway through the movie, the big longhaired half-man had curled up and fallen asleep on Dean's lap.

Dean ran his fingers through his brother's hair gently, leaning back against the couch Cas had finally laid down on. His lips were next to his ear when he whispered, "Dean, I've been watching how people interact, and I don't think this is how brothers your age usually are."

The scent of freshly fallen snow filled Dean's senses. He leaned back and turned his head, so he and Cas were face to face. Almost too close to even see each other but Dean didn't want to move away.

"Yeah, I know. Remember I told you my mom died?"

Cas nodded and rested his head on his arm.

"I was four, almost five. Sammy was only six months old. Our Dad, as much as I know he loves us, couldn't be fucked to raise us. So until we came here and Bobby took the parenting reins, I raised Sam. At five years old, I was changing diapers and feeding him. At six and seven, I was potty training him and teaching him to walk. I taught the little fucker how to read and recognize his numbers. I made lunches for school and did a lot of teddy bear surgeries. I had to be his parent even though I'd never had one. And even now, Bobby's great but Sam still needs me. I'm the only one who's always been here for him."

"That's a lot for a child that young, or for anyone your age."

"Too much. He slept with me every night until he was in, God, fifth grade? Because our Dad… Well, I told you, that's how we know what weird things are out there. The monsters. I've always known. Dad didn't bother to protect me from being scared. He wanted me to be alert, to be a soldier, instead of soothing my fears he handed me a gun. But it was my job to protect Sam when he wasn't around, which was most of the time. I shielded Sam as much as I could, but he still grew up scared, and he slept better with me."

"Dean, I'm again astounded by your capacity for love," Cas said simply.

"What?"

"There were many options for you in that situation, and you chose to love your brother. That's an impressive thing, that depth of devotion. Each time we spend time together, I find something new to marvel at."

"Cas, don't be ridiculous." Dean shrugged and blushed.

"I'm not. What I wouldn't have given for someone to look out for my best interest and protect me from the frightening things out there. I came here alone. I don't know where I came from and I'm not sure I want to know. I can do these things no one else seems to be able to do. And I'm alone with it. It is frightening."

"You aren't alone. You have me. And Sammy."

Cas smiled widely and a dangerous look came over his face. In the dark of the living room, it's just them with the movie playing loudly in the background and Sam fast asleep. His eyes dipped to Dean's mouth. "Does that mean I can sleep in your bed?"

"I, well, I… I mean, it's not… um…"

"Relax, Dean, I was teasing," the wicked smile remained but his attention turned back to the movie.

"Duh," Dean said, looking at the television and seeing absolutely nothing that happens on screen. He scoots Sam off his lap and onto a pillow but keeps his arm draped over his little brother's shoulder. Once he'd settled back in, he felt that feather-light touch again, this time along the collar of his shirt.

Cas's finger ran back and forth over the stitching, igniting flames along his neck. Dean exhales loudly and closes his eyes. This feeling, this tension, was so new and different. He never wanted it to end. The touch never strayed to his tingling skin. It never ran over his shoulder or up into his hair. It remained soft and agonizingly sweet. Hotter than any touch Lisa had ever given him.

Dean sat up and adjusted his jeans. This unbearable feeling of Cas's fingers heating like a volcano beneath his skin, burning him from the inside out until his entire body was focused on the ministrations of one gentle finger.

He exhaled shakily, eyes closed.

"I should go," Cas whispered by his ear, pulling his touch away. He stood and stepped over Sam, heading for the front door before Dean could get his brain to register what was happening.

"Wait," Dean said, too loud, pulling himself up to standing and approaching Cas. "It's late, you can stay the night, or I can drive you. You shouldn't walk this late."

Cas smiled fondly. "It's sweet that you worry. I'll be fine."

"Wait," Dean reached out and grabbed Cas's arm. His hand wrapped around Cas's skin for the first time. It was so warm, so soft. "I… I know you spent all day here but I don't want you to go."

"I know," Cas tilted his head. "And that's why I should."

Dean reared back, shaking his head. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It only means your friendship means a great deal to me." Cas stepped closer. Closer than friends should. "I don't want anything to take that away."

"Cas…" Dean reached out with his other hand, but before touching Cas, the room was filled with that fresh snow smell, and Cas was gone. Leaving Dean alone with nothing but more questions.