"I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you." ― Friedrich Nietzsche

"I most certainly am not!" Castiel was beet red as he yelled at his step brother Gabriel. The guy was slightly annoying on a good day, but apparently today was 'Let's pick on Cassie day.' Castiel hated that nickname.

"And now you sound British." Gabriel huffed a laugh as he passed on clean empty bowls and spoons to the people in the line.

"I do not!" Castiel retorted throwing his brother a dirty look as he poured hot soup into the bowls people would extend to him. Some snickered at the brother's bickering, others tried to be polite and hid their faces so that Castiel wouldn't see their smirks.

"Only a Brit wouldn't use abbreviation where he can. We Yankees are very lazy and would say don't." Gabriel mocked back and Castiel could do nothing more but Pfff at him and cross him arms for only a moment, before he threw them up in the air.

"Fine! I'll prove it to you! I will prove that I am not wasting my life living in a bubble, that I am not a chicken! I am not afraid to go out and do something adventurous!"

"By all means. Go out and buy Captain Crunch instead of Cheerios. Get high on the sugar, go nuts." Gabriel said with a laugh. He liked to tease his brother, but this was a bit more serious. This time he really wanted to provoke a reaction.

Unlike his step brother who was either a secret spy or a independent contractor as his business card said, Castiel was a closed off person, an introvert if you will. His days consisted of sitting home, reading and editing lame romance novels for Crossroads Publications Inc., while trying to write his own story and hoping that Mr. Crowley would do good on his promise and at least give it a read. He didn't have any friends aside from Gabriel who spent most of his time out of the country and was almost never here. Castiel always claimed his social skill were lacking, but the truth was, he was scared to go and meet new people. Last two times he did, he got stabbed in the back and it served to only make him even more closed up then he was before.

"Face it, bro. You are a coward. You are scared to go out and meet new people and try new things. Heck, if it wasn't for this kitchen, you wouldn't even leave the apartment. " Gabriel said as he motioned around the open cafeteria that was part of the homeless shelter. Few years back, Gabriel managed to persuade him to come out here and help out. He put his best wounded puppy look and used 'for a good cause' to guilt him into it. He had hoped it would help Castiel, but so far, nothing had really changed. Cas would just come, serve the people with a smile and leave after it was done.

"I'm not a coward!" Castiel shouted, still sounding pissed off, but with tears brimming in his eyes. Good, he was upset. Maybe that would get him out of his shell and make him do something, anything. Castiel's chest were heaving, his ears burning a hot shade of red and he was gritting his teeth at his step brother who just threw him a 'I am right and you know it' smile and turned to serve the last few people in the line, and completely ignored Castiel's huffing and puffing, and it pissed him off. He looked around sharply, suddenly unsure what to do, but needing to something, feeling compelled to act, and it he had a something to throw at Gabriel, he would. But a man, last one in the row came up to the big pot Castiel was serving out of, and Castiel grabbed the paddle with too much force, but when he went to scoop up the soup, he found the pot to be empty.

"That's okay. At least the kids got to eat." The man said and when Castiel looked up he was met with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. The man was dirty, with his hair long and greasy under his cap, his beard thick and tangled and filthy and Castiel really wasn't a germaphobe, but he still made a face at the man's appearance. Still, his eyes shone bright, too bright for someone who was homeless and broke and was last in line for food and ended up not getting any. It wasn't fair.

"What's your name?" Castiel asked just as the man was about to turn and walk away. Those green eyes looked at him once again, and Castiel could make out a small smile under all that façade.

"Dean." The man offered and waited to see what Castiel would give in exchange. After all, some of these people had nothing more then their good name.

"Well, Dean. You're in luck. I just happen to have some Chinese leftovers at home that I would mind sharing with you." Castiel said, keeping his eyes on the man, purposely not looking at his step brother who was clearly listening in and was about to protest. There was a difference between helping people and doing something potentially dangerous, this was not what Gabriel hope to accomplish. But before he could say anything, Castiel spoke up again. "In fact, I have a working shower and a free couch, I bet you could use one good nights sleep?" Castiel said and watched as Dean's eyes widened at the offer and glanced at Gabriel before nodding uncertain.

"Cassie..."

"I think you can manage the dishes without me. Have a nice evening, Gabriel." Castiel interrupted as he took off his apron, set it down on the table and rounded it, coming up to Dean. "Please. Follow me." He said, then he brushed past the confused man and headed towards his apartment that was only a block away. He didn't see Dean glance at Gabriel once again and give him a shrug before turning and going after Castiel.

It took Castiel exactly five seconds to regret his outburst and his decision as he heard the footsteps follow him. This was a stranger he so easily invited into his home, a man he knew nothing about except that he fed at a national kitchen and was most likely homeless. He spotted a rucksack over the man's back when he walked past him, probably containing all his belongings. But all of this spoke nothing about the man's character.

For all Castiel knew, Dean could be a serial killer or a rapist, or both. Dean might not even be his real name.

"Hey, um..." Castiel flinched and dropped his keys when the man spoke, then huffed and crouched down to pick them up. He looked up when Dean spoke again and from that position he could see the man blushing. "If you don't want to do this, it's fine, I get it... If this was just a way to shut that guy up, I am happy to play along, but you don't have to... I mean if you're uncomfortable..."

Castiel rose back up and met those amazing green eyes, and even if he wanted to laugh it off and agree with Dean, he just couldn't. He sighed, but smiled. "No, I, um... You didn't get your portion, and I do have some leftovers, it isn't much, but... I would like to share them."

There was definitely a small smile hiding under all that unruly beard, and Castiel couldn't help but wonder what the man might look like without it? Maybe he would look good, handsome even? Or maybe, he has a nasty scar that the beard is hiding? Maybe something even gruesome, like maybe someone tried to cut out his tongue and he struggled and got cut all over the... Castiel really should reel in his overactive imagination and save it for his book.

"As long as you're sure, man. I mean, I could always go and try to fish something out of the bakery before it closes..." Dean offered, but they both knew that the bakery in question was already closed, so Castiel just shook his head and motioned for the man to follow him.

The place really wasn't much, one bedroom and a kitchen/living room all cramped up together with so little room, it could only fit a small coffee table and a couch and even with that there was not much room to maneuver in the kitchen. Castiel motioned for the couch as he spoke up "Have a seat, I'll just find the leftovers and heat them up..."

"I think... I don't mind standing." Dean said looking a bit apprehensive.

"Stand? Why?" Castiel frowned as he looked between Dean and his couch, then focused on the furniture piece like it had personally offended him.

Dean let out a sigh, finally stopping shifting from one foot to the other. "I hate to bust your bubble, dude, and it is really nice of you to have invited me, but I... I am dirty. I got mud and who knows what else on me, and I really don't want to get all that shit on your couch."

"Oh." Castiel said and looked over Dean, his eyes roaming his entire body before he caught himself and cleared his throat, never noticing the amusement on Dean's face. "Then, um..." He paused for a moment, thinking and finally came up with an idea. "Then you'll shower first and I'll give you a shirt and sweatpants I got... How's that?"

"I..." Dean seemed to be stunned for a moment. "I didn't think you were serious about that..."

The statement made Castiel frown. "I might have been angry at my brother, but I meant what I said. Food, shower and... um... Place to sleep. For tonight." The frown melted into embarrassment as he added that last part. He wanted to help, but he had his limits, most of them financial. Besides, even this was way beyond pushing his boundaries. Except for Gabriel, he didn't invite anyone in his home, not even that nice kid that help out at the shelter, Alfie. This situation was really out of his comfort zone, but he needed to prove to Gabriel, and maybe himself that he could do this, he could go out and meet new people and socialize, he just chose not to. Less complications, less headaches... Less hurt.

"Dude... I really don't have to do that... " Dean said, looking torn, but at the same time hopeful.

"I know. I want to." Castiel replied and took a deep breath, trying to look certain of his decision. "Come on, let's find those clothes and get you into that shower..." He paused mid step on his way to the bedroom, his eyes going wide and whipped around to face the man. "No, I meant... Not to... To show you where the shower is... That's... That's what I meant." Dean looked amused, smiling, but Castiel couldn't face those eyes, feeling mortified. Hell, maybe Dean wouldn't have even thought anything of what Castiel said, if he hadn't tried and correct himself and come out as an idiot. Shit, he had to make it up to Dean, he had to make it right. As they walked the short distance to Castiel's bedroom, he contemplated what else he could offer Dean, overwhelmed with sudden urge to do something more. But it wasn't really that the fact that he wanted to help Dean as much as it was this inner urge he sometimes felt, an urge that told him that things have to be right, have to be proper, correct. Balthazar, the manager of the national kitchen, and in his own way a Gordon Ramsey, would joke sometimes and say Castiel had an OCD, but he didn't. Not really. No, ne didn't.

Dean hummed as they entered the bedroom and drew Castiel's attention. The man was looking over at the bed, some longing in his eyes, and by God, that was it. That was that extra thing Castiel needed. With that idea, he quickly fished out some old sweats and a plain white T-Shirt, handed them to a surprised man then showed him to the bathroom. He nearly pushed him inside, and closed the door behind him, completely forgetting to show him where fresh towels are and what soap he could use, or anything else Dean might need (a toothbrush and a razor would have been nice). Instead, he skipped (yes, skipped!) back to his bedroom, giddy and with a smile on his face as he dug into his wardrobe in a search for clean sheets.

When Dean emerged from the bathroom, Castiel was fussing around the kitchen, frowning at the open boxes of the Chinese leftovers. There were actually a few of them along with a container of what was probably soup. As soon as he heard soft footsteps, Castiel turned and smiled widely, before catching himself and reeling in that smile, but couldn't help the rush of heat he felt in his cheek. "Hey..." He trailed off, desperately needing to look away.

Because Dean might still have that long beard and that long hair, but it was clean and even from a few feet away, Cas could tell the man smelt like Castiel's soap. Not to mention he was wearing his clothes... Castiel scrunched his eyes shut, and let out a grunt. He really needed to get a hold of himself, NO! No , not that, he needed to stop. Yes, it has been a while and maybe he felt a little lonely sometimes, but he couldn't go and dump that on innocent people. He needed to remember Dean, or whatever his name was, was a stranger and that he should be careful. But how could he when those green eyes seemed so earnest and inviting?

"So..." Once again, Dean's voice snapped him back to reality and Castiel huffed, then turned to the food.

"Yes. I might have overestimated my leftovers, I am not sure. I got some Kung Pao chicken and a few bites of Yungchao fried rice. I do have some tomato rice soup and some fried noodles from yesterday I think they are still good. And I also have exactly two dumplings." He finished with a smile. Dean came closer, but still at a respectful distance and peeked to see that even though there were a few different dishes, there wasn't much then a few bites of each, except for the chicken. Still all of those things combined should be enough, or so Castiel hoped.

"I call dibs on the soup?" Dean tried, phrasing it more like a question, perhaps to see if Castiel would allow it.

"Alright. I'll take the rice and we could um... Split the rest evenly?" That earned him a grin, and wow, the man had such a charming smile under all that facial hair.

"Cool. So, I'm just gonna..." Dean said and pointed to the couch with both his thumbs to which Castiel nodded, then got to work reheating everything. Dean sat down, setting his rucksack next to the couch and then tested it for comfort by bouncing off of it once. He hummed appreciatively then started looking around. Odd silence filled the room. It was a bit awkward, but not as much as Castiel would have imagined. He was never good at making small talk, and even if he was, what could he ask? Somehow it all seemed to private, especially for a man in this situation. How do you ask someone why they are homeless?

"So... What's your name?" Dean asked looking over the couch and seeming like a little lost kitty with their claws digging into the material in hopes it would slip down.

"What?"

"Your name? That guy, your, hm... brother? He called you Cassie, but somehow I doubt that is really your name... Unless you don't want to tell me which is totally okay, I get it... You don't have to, it not... I'll stop talking now." A little lost kitty indeed. Castiel surprised even himself when he laughed, but it was worth to see that spark in those green eyes.

"Castiel. My name is Castiel. And before you ask, no, I am not a foreigner, I... I have absolutely no idea what my parents were thinking when they named me." The sound of Dean's laughter filled the room at the last comment just as the microwave sounded it finished reheating the food. Castiel brought two trays over to the couch and they sat, each on the farthest end and ate in relative silence. Dean complimented him on the food choice once, and another time he told him he had a nice place, and Castiel just muttered a few Thanks and that was it. There was never a moment when Castiel hated being socially awkward so much as this one. He feared he might say something wrong, ask a wrong question, and this was a stranger he was sharing his meal and couch with. This was a man he knew nothing about. Images of Dean running after him with a knife came to mind before Castiel shook them away. Luckily he remembered to turn on the TV, so that provided enough of a distraction, even if it was a cheesy soap opera.

When they finished their meal, Castiel was uncertain if Dean wanted to keep watching the TV, but thankfully the man caught on, so he made a show of stretching and showing off a patch of skin unintentionally as his (Castiel's) shirt rose up. Castiel did not look. "Are you sure it's okay if I stay the night?" Dean asked, his face purposely void of any emotions.

"Yes, yes, of course... I invited you and... well..." He paused, biting his lower lip, not sure how to convey the idea he came up with. "I was thinking... I... I want to show you something." He finally settled and beckoned Dean to follow him back to his bedroom. Dean patted along behind him, drawing Castiel's thoughts to the man's bare feet. When did he take of his shoes? Castiel always took them off when he he entered his apartment, did Dean do the same? He was startled out of his thoughts when he abruptly stopped and Dean bumped into him, but the man immediately took a step back and apologized even if it wasn't really his fault.

Tingles traveled down Castiel's body at the thought of another warm body touching his, but no, he will not go there. NO. Just no.

"So, what did you want to show me?" Dean asked and was that a blush? Castiel couldn't tell for sure. He motioned for the bed and why did he think Dean would understand and not jump to conclusions? "Your bed?" Dean asked and Castiel nodded as if it was clear as day what he was offering. Dean paused, as he glanced back at the bed and then looked up at Castiel, his face suddenly guarded and untrusting. "Look man... I think there was a misunderstanding here... I am glad you offered me food and a shower, but I don't... I didn't..." What was happening? Dean was getting riled up and also seemed on alert like Castiel would attack hi over his words or something, so he tried to choose them carefully, but eventually ended blurting out what was on his mind.

"I don't offer sexual favors, okay? I didn't think this was that kind of a gig, otherwise, I would have said Thanks, but no thanks. Lots of sleezebags asked me to blow them or let them fuck me in exchange for a few bucks, but I refuse. I would rather starve then sell out like that..." Dean brushed his hand through his hair and paced a bit looking around and on the ground while he spoke, only looking up at Castiel once he finished. He completely froze and stared at Castiel who could feel the exact moment his face drained of all colors, it was pretty much at the same time he stopped breathing. His lower lip shook and his eyes filled with tears, because, no, he wasn't that person Dean was describing, he would never do that, he couldn't, he...

"Oh, shit! That wasn't what you... Oh, crap, I am sorry, I'm so... Could you forget I said anything? Castiel? Cas?" Dean was there, eyes filled with concern and dread as Castiel didn't respond, having an emotional turmoil in his chest that threatened to explode, because he wasn't that kind of a person, he would never do that to someone, he would never make someone do anything they didn't want, and it was clear that Dean was wary of him because he thought Castiel might actually attack him and maybe even rape him and oh God! A small hiccupped sob escaped him because that was exactly what Zach tried to do and he knew, Castiel knew how it felt and he remembered how much it hurt and...

"I didn't... I..." He tried and forced himself to focus, because he had to explain, he had to make Dean understand this wasn't what he wanted, he had to make him understand he didn't want to hurt him, only help him. "I didn't... I wanted to... I know those beds in the shelter... They are not very comfortable... And... And I know most of you adults let the kids or the elders sleep while you take the ground or... I just... I was going to take the couch, and let you... I am so sorry, I didn't mean... I wanted you have a decent night's sleep, I am... I didn't..." He was shaking and his eyes burned a hole in the ground as he spoke, not daring to meet those beautiful greens and see any resentment in them.

"Crap, I am sorry, man. I just assumed... I'm really sorry. Here you were just trying to be nice and I have to go and open my big stupid mouth and... I'm such an idiot." Dean said and finally Castiel looked up to see it to be true, his eyes so vibrant with color and pleading and hopeful. He forced a smile on his face even if the sound of Zach's laughter still echoed in his head.

"It's okay... I should have been more clear about what I intended, I am sorry."

"I should have asked what were your intentions before I practically yelled at you." Dean countered and it might have been true, but Castiel still wouldn't hear it.

"No, no, that's perfectly understandable considering your situation. You asked if we could forget this happened and I would like for us to do so, is that okay?" Castiel offered and Dean nodded, gracing him with a small smile and a grateful spark in his eyes. "But I still insist you take the bed." He said and watched as Dean started shaking his head.

"No, no, man, I couldn't. Especially after what I just said..."

"I thought we agreed to forget it?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"No buts. This is something I want to do. For at least one night, you could have a proper meal, a proper shower and a proper bed. Please. Allow me to do this." Castiel said, this time not letting his eyes drop, but force them to stay locked with Dean's as he wanted to win this argument. Somewhere along the line, he completely forgot why it even mattered, why was it so important for him to do this, he just knew he needed it. He was pleased when Dean caved and nodded, so with a smile Castiel wished him a good night, picked up his pillow and his blanket that were waiting for him on his dresser and closed the door on his way out.

For the first time in years, his nightmares were chased away by pleasant dreams of a green-eyed man and of the two of them just talking and playing cards and commenting on a movie, plain, simple things, but still things that required a second person, things he could not do alone.

When the morning came, Castiel woke up with a neck cramp, but to a room filled with a sweet smell of coffee, and when he looked over, he saw a his old coffee maker buzzing and a note next to it. Castiel got up and picked it up, smiling as he read it over.

Had to dash, but didn't want to wake you.

I put on some coffee, least I could do after the kindness you showed me.

I will repay you for it someday.

Thank you, Cas. Really.

I'll see you around.

Dean

It would be four days later that Castiel could find time to come down to the shelter to help out. Mr. Crowley was pressuring him into finishing editing a real bad written story, and Castiel barely managed not to just burn it all. Maybe he would have if it was a hard copy instead of a digital one on his poor excuse of a laptop, courtesy of Crossroads Publications Inc.

"Well, if it isn't our little prince Charming, savior of all?" Meg shouted out, making every head turn in his direction. Castiel froze, not even remotely comfortable with this kind of attention, but luckily, these people knew what it felt like to be stared at, so they quickly averted their eyes, but Castiel could still hear his name being whispered around the open cafeteria. He approached the table where Meg was setting up the meals to be served, looking as annoyed as ever, probably because she was court ordered to be there, he couldn't help not notice a spark in her eyes. A sort of spark that would make a man's blood run cold.

"Well, if it isn't the celebrity man himself, came down to grace us with thy presence?" She slurred just a bit as she talked, a hint of alcohol in her breath. "And here I thought you were too high and mighty now to walk with the common folk."

"What are you talking about?" Castiel asked as quietly and as calmly as he could, not wishing to rile Meg up even more.

"Oh, don't play dumb with me. Out of all the people, I would never suspect you to be such a sellout, but I guess I am not that good judge of character, now am I? You know, I always knew you were tender, but I had no idea we played for the same team." She added and Castiel's eyes went wide. How could she have known that? "But I get it, man, respect! Re-espect! That was beautifully executed. Just beautiful."

"I don't understand, what..." Castiel tried to piece it together, because Meg was making no sense. He looked at Balthazar, who just came out of the shelter, hoping he could shed some light on what Meg was talking about. However before he could even finish his sentence, Meg laughed loudly and obnoxiously.

"Like it isn't obvious. You parade that cute little ass around here, and just happen to run across Dean, the Dean. Don't play dumb, you recognized him. Took him home, bent over and let him pound you, didn't you? Just for that little taste of glory, your few minutes of fame?" Meg finished and ripped today's newspapers from Balthazar only to shove them in Castiel's extremely pale face. The title in big, bold letters read: " Dean Winchester - Vagrancy Exposed "

Castiel snatched the papers out of her hands and skimmed over the article that was basically an exposé on the homeless in Kansas city, trying to piece together everything he had learned in the past few minutes. It wasn't until he reached the end where the author spoke of finding a kind soul on the last day of his journey and being provided a warm meal, a hot shower and a soft bed. And right there, next to it all was Castiel's name, portraying him as the angel after whom he was named.

Millions of questions rose in his head, but before his panic mind could work through them, a voice echoed behind Castiel.

"Heya, Cas." Castile turned only to come face to face with a man he did not recognize smiling back at him and holding a box of chocolates. But he knew that voice and when he looked up and met the man's eyes, they were bright green and warm and no, no, no , no, no... Castiel shook his head with his eyes closed as he stepped back, dropping the paper on the ground, looking alarmed and scared. "Cas? You okay, dude?" The man asked again, and Castiel flinched and met his eyes again, as the realization hit. Dean. "Cas?" Dean asked as he stepped closer, making Castiel stumble back, and raise his hand as if he wished to hold the ugly reality away.

"No, no..." He uttered and stumbled again when Dean reached out to touch him, then turned around a fled. He could hear Dean calling out to him and he could hear his footsteps as the man chased after him, but he couldn't stop, he couldn't face it, he couldn't admit it was real. That the man he met four days ago was a lie and that this is Dean, the real Dean, the Dean in brand new designer jeans and a button up shirt and shaved and with a new haircut and his damn green eyes.

"Cas wait!" Dean shouted and finally caught up with him in front of his apartment door. "Wait, please, let me explain."

"Explain what? That you used me for your story? That you advertised to the whole world what I did? They... Meg, she... Why did you lie to me, Dean? Why didn't you tell me who you were?!" Castiel demanded, yelling, but feeling his voice crack after every spoken word. He could feel the tears bubbling up, and he could only hope Dean wouldn't see it and that he would be strong enough not to let them spill.

"I couldn't. I had to be in character until midnight on Sunday." Dean said and paused, probably realizing it wasn't an excuse at all, and not just because it was Monday when he woke in Castiel's bed. Castiel shook his head, his hands trembling as he tried to find the right key to open his front door.

"I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe you did that..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trick you, I was just..."

"Don't you get it?! This isn't about me!" Castiel shouted as he turned to face Dean again, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Okay! Maybe it is a bit about me too, but it is also about what you have done. That could have been an actual person I would have helped. Someone who really needed a fucking meal and a warm bed. Someone who might have make it through another day in his troubled life. Instead, you... You took that away from them. YOU." Castiel spat out as he got into Dean's space, and the man just stood there, ready to take the hit if Castiel decided to throw a punch, and looking so much more hurt by Castiel's words, because he must have known them to be true. Once more, Castiel shook his head as if trying to repel this empty feeling in his chest and backed away from Dean sparing him one last glance before he unlocked his front door and slammed it shut after walking away, and leaving Dean behind.