A/N: Does this mean I'm going to get back to posting my work regularly? Unfortunately, I don't think so, but I thought I'd post this. Enjoy the weird beginnings of Destiel!

WARNING: This fic contains mentions of mental illness, and alcoholism.

Dean sulked in the passenger's seat, not used to being there. He didn't even really let Sam drive. But a total stranger was at the wheel now, taking him back to his hotel. Probably for the best. He couldn't see straight, and he was busy nursing his right hand.

God, what the heck was he doing? What was going on?

Lights and colors seemed to streak by, and he groaned, closing his eyes, leaning his head against the window as nausea took him.

Right, he'd had a lot to drink.

Thank god, he thought.

He couldn't deal with Zach's bullshit sober.

Eventually the awful rolling and bumping motions that were shifting his stomach stopped, and there was a hand lightly tapping at his forearm.

He cracked open his eyelids. Nausea flushed through him, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

"Mm?"

"We're here."

Dean nodded, instantly regretted that, and then opened the door and spilled out into the parking garage to puke his guts out all over the cement.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed once his body calmed down.

"This happen often?" the other man asked.

"A stranger watching me puke? Ha ha, funny."

"My name's Castiel, by the way."

He'd come around the car to help Dean up, and he felt reassured in this stranger's grip. Had he been feeling well enough, maybe…

No, can't do that anymore. Gotta keep your pants on and your bed neat. Fuck.

"Huh, weird name."

"Thanks," Castiel responded, seeming completely deadpan.

"I like it. I'll call you Cas."

Cas closed the door, and locked the car, putting the keys back in Dean's pocket. Was it just him or had his hand felt his torso a bit too much? Dean cracked a smile at him, hoping it gave Cas the idea of what he was thinking about. He didn't notice.

There was a lot of awkward shuffling, Dean bumping into Cas, and then walls, as they got into the hotel. Dean got up to his room with Cas, and he realized he didn't know what to do now. He leaned against the door, and Castiel just frowned.

"I'm gonna go in there," Dean said, "and security's gonna wonder who you are. You tell them you're a friend, okay?"

"Can't I leave?"

Dean laughed. "How are you getting back to your place? You gonna fly, angel?"

Cas gave him an odd look at that, and Dean laughed some more, getting his keycard out before struggling to fit it into the slot. Castiel reached out to help him, but Dean glared him away. Eventually he got it. Thank god.

The door heaved open with him leaning against it, and he almost fell.

Clif, his main bodyguard, a big, bald guy with tattoos, was standing in front of him, arms crossed. Or… maybe he was to the right. Or the left? Three of him. Fun.

"Hey, Clif," Dean said. "Went out for a bit. Got a friend with me."

Dean beckoned with his hand, and he felt Cas press close before following him into his suite.

Clif didn't budge.

"Dean, buddy, you're a good guy, but you should've come straight back here."

Dean leaned against the wall, cheek pressing against the corner of a picture frame. Ow.

"Needed… needed to clear my head." He held out his arm in a weak, all-encompassing gesture. "Cas, Clif. Clif… yeah."

"Hello," Cas said, not seeming to know what to do in this situation.

Dean peeled himself off the wall, hand against it to help steady himself, and he told his bodyguard. "You can go rest, call it a night. I'm safe."

"I'm gonna check over your friend anyway."

Dean nodded and shuffled farther into the suite, collapsing on the perfectly white couch. From his position he could see Clif patting down Cas, and then taking the napkins out of his pocket, eyeing him questioningly.

"You're all good," Clif announced.

"Thank… you?"

"Dean, call me if you need anything. I'll be next door. And I'll let Ellen know we found you. Can't just ditch your handlers like that, man."

Dean knew Clif was saying this from a place of love, and he really liked having Clif around and as his bodyguard, but after the night he'd had, he just held up a middle finger. His bodyguard chuckled, and then he was leaving.

"This is… nice," Castiel observed.

The suite wasn't the biggest Dean'd had, but there was a living room area, a TV, a kitchenette, and a separate room for the bedroom where there was a king-sized bed. He'd checked out the bathroom earlier, and it had two separate tubs like he'd requested.

"Garth?" Dean called, flipping over onto his stomach on the couch, hand dangling to the floor. "Garth?!"

"Dean, there's no one else here."

There was a knock on the door.

"Can you get that?"

"Sure."

There were clicks as Cas got the door, and then Dean poked his head up, sure he saw the skinny legs of his assistant. Good, he'd heard him with the security system. He could turn it off, but it was just for safety right now. At least there wasn't a camera in the bedroom, or one in the bathroom.

"Oh, hi, I'm Garth. You must be Dean's friend! Nice to meet you."

Dean laughed as he saw Cas forcibly getting his hand shaken, and he pried himself off the couch, or at least… got himself sitting up.

"Garth!"

Garth walked around Cas now, holding his arms out. "Dean!"

He was suddenly wrapped up in a hug by the wiry man, and he didn't seem like he ever wanted to let go. Dean shot Cas a look that he hoped said, Friends. What are you gonna do, right?

"So what can I do for you, Dean-o?" Garth asked.

Dean wiped a hand over his face, and then answered slowly, hoping the words came out right. "Baths. I need the baths, the after concert ones?"

"I'll get right on it, buddy." He took his phone out, tapping out a message. "Room service is gonna be here with a ton of ice real soon."

"Ice?" Cas asked, gingerly sitting on the far end of the couch from Dean.

"Oh, it's his after concert recovery routine," Garth answered for him, already seeming so jovial with Cas. "First he has an ice bath for five to ten minutes, then a hot bath for twenty. Gets him feeling absolutely great again."

"That's… good."

"Sure is! Well, Dean, text me if you need anything else. Oh, and your friend's name?"

Castiel tried answering, but Dean cut him off, "Cas. His name's Cas. He'll be here tonight."

"Dandy!"

Dean shook his head, an affectionate smile on his face at the sheer ridiculousness and ball of positivity that was Garth.

"What'd you do to your hand there?" his assistant then asked.

"Punched a wall."

"Dean, what have I told you about getting into fights you can't win?"

"The wall had it coming."

"First aid kit's on the top shelf in the bathroom cabinet. Use it or I'm calling you a nurse."

"I don't need a nurse."

"Okie dokie, then! Get some rest, Dean."

And then with that, his assistant was off.

"You have a post concert routine?" Castiel eventually asked.

"Yeah," Dean explained, trying to straighten his back, and figure out exactly where Cas was in his vision. He edged closer to him, hoping that would help his vision and fogged brain somewhat. "Ice for inflammation, heat for relaxation."

"Ah."

Even now Dean could feel that he needed all that. He'd gone without it plenty of times to have sex with someone, but now he was aching. And god, he just wanted to go to sleep.

"And what about me?"

"What about you?"

Cas plucked at his shirt.

"I have tea on me."

Dean laughed, and then noticed the shirt he was wearing, and that it was much too tight.

"What is with that shirt?" he asked.

"What, it's one of yours."

"No, no. It's… Do you know your shirt size?"

Castiel shrugged. "A friend bought it."

Dean smirked. "Female friend."

"Yeah."

"Okay, so you say you don't like me, but you're wearing a shirt with my name on it. What's the story there?"

Dean wasn't even sure if he cared if Cas liked him. Or… maybe he did. How could he not like him? He was fucking Dean Winchester!

"Meg, my friend, she didn't want to go to your concert alone."

"So let me guess, she bat her pretty eyelashes, and you couldn't say no."

"Not exactly. She was very forceful. I don't even like your music."

"Come on."

"Okay, before tonight I didn't care."

"But now…?"

Castiel crossed his arms, seeming to realize he was being interrogated.

"I think you crashing my car lowers my rating. And, you basically kidnapped me."

"You drove!" Dean pointed out.

"Because I had nowhere else to go."

Dean chuckled. "You could've kidnapped me."

"Did you want me to kidnap you?"

There was a light knock on the door, an announcement rather than a request, and various room service assistants came in with bags of ice, going into the bathroom to fill his tub.

He shrugged. "Would've been fun to play out."

"Uh… Oh!"

Castiel's eyes widened as he realized what Dean had just implied, and Dean deepened his smile, staring right into his eyes.

They were pretty eyes, a bright blue. And they looked amazing with his dark hair. God damn it, just Dean's type.

He licked his bottom lip as he eyed him, but Cas didn't squirm like he'd anticipated. The other man held his gaze firm. A tingle ran down his body, into his gut at that.

He lost track of time when he was looking at him like that, but eventually room service let him know his baths were ready, and then left.

"Alright, well, uh, you can go through some drawers, find something that fits you for tonight," Dean told him, standing, and wobbling. Son of a bitch. He steadied himself with the couch. "I'll be…" He pointed a thumb towards the bathroom. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

Smooth, Dean, he told himself. Real smooth.

As he went into the bathroom and undressed, not bothering to close the door since he knew no one would dare walk in on him, he thought of how much of an idiot he was. Not just with messing up this night, but how he was messing up with talking to Cas. He had a hot guy with super pink lips and a strong, chiseled jawline in his room, and he didn't even know how to get him into a bath with him!

How had he gotten so useless?

He winced as he settled himself into the ice bath, and even let out a cry. Okay, yeah, he'd waited too long to do this. He was no longer feeling overheated from his performance, so this was… a lot. Downstairs really didn't like it either.

Yeah, that's hot.

Cas was soon at the doorframe, one of Dean's shirts held in his hands, and a pair of his sweatpants were hugging his thighs. "Are you…" he began to ask, but broke off, realizing Dean was naked.

Dean settled down more, shivering, but tried to play it cool, resting his arms behind his head, showing off his triceps, shoulders, and chest.

Casiel bowed his head, but otherwise didn't seem too flustered. Huh. "Are you okay?"

"You seem pretty unfazed at seeing a guy in a bath."

"After working at a hospital, bodies just become bodies to you. Sometimes I have to keep an eye on patients when they shower."

"Pervert."

"Keeping them safe," Cas reasoned. "They've needed my help before. When people are in a bad place, they'll try anything to hurt themselves."

Dean had no response to that, just nodded in what he hoped Cas would take as a thoughtful gesture.

Fuck, his hand was throbbing. Dean took off the bandana and lowered it into the ice water.

"So… you gonna leave?" he eventually asked.

"You didn't tell me if you were okay."

"I'm fine."

But Dean didn't tell him to go, and Cas didn't make any move to do so.

"Alright, have a seat on the counter," Dean told him. "Start being my therapist or whatever."

"Am I getting paid?" Cas joked.

"Don't you have the money I gave you?" Dean reasoned.

"That was for the other thing."

"Oh, right."

Cas went over and sat himself down on the counter, rubbing his tea-soaked shirt between his hands, even with it still on his body.

Dean glanced away, but kept him in the corner of his eye.

"Keep changing."

"Okay."

There was a flash of skin in his peripheral vision, muscles, a nice, hard, wide body. Or maybe he was imagining it. There was only so much you could see out of the corner of your eye. Mm, but his imagination was liking it either way. Dean pretended to look over too soon accidently, and caught Cas as he was pulling the clean and dry shirt over his head.

It hugged his chest even though Dean wore an extra large because of his shoulders. So they were big in different areas.

"So, the drinking," Cas hedged. "You do that often?"

"Yeah."

"Any reason?"

"Lots."

"That's fair."

Dean smiled at him. "You're the first person who hasn't gotten mad at me about it."

"Why would I?"

"'Cause, it messes me up."

"You're not alone. Plenty of people are alc—"

"Don't call me that."

"Okay. But you're not the only one who has urges, who needs help."

"Yeah, but what if it's messing up my life?"

Castiel shrugged. "Usually people who drink already had hard lives to begin with. You're just trying to cope, and you can't hate yourself for coping. No one taught you how. It's okay."

Dean didn't know why, but he felt himself tearing up, and he turned away.

The timer he set on his phone by the bath went off, and he started getting up. Castiel let out an exclamation, but covered his eyes. Dean dripped cold water as he went to get into the tub with steaming water, but then he was encased in relaxing warmth. He sighed, leaning his head back against the lip of the tub.

"Oh god, that's good."

"Can I look?" Castiel asked, as Dean set a new timer on his phone.

"What, you got virgin eyes or something, Mr. I-Have-To-Watch-People-Shower?"

Cas said nothing, but even with his hand over his eyes Dean saw pink in his cheeks.

"No way," he blurted out. Cas was looking now, slightly averting his gaze, and Dean just stared, mouth agape. "No way. You're a virgin?"

"That's too personal."

"Hey, you were talking to me about how hard my life is, so this shit is just gonna get weird from here."

Cas sighed, resting his hands down on the counter.

"Fine, yes. I'm a virgin."

Dean gave a pleased, hearty laugh, and didn't let up even when Cas began laughing nervously. God, he was cute.

"You're deflecting," he eventually stated.

"Maybe, but you're cute."

"That's unprofessional."

Dean smiled. "What, am I paying you to be my therapist?"

"I'm not certified, so no. I'm just a mental health worker."

"Then what's unprofessional? You gonna check me in as a patient?"

Cas just glared down at him from his perch, and Dean was sure he heard a low growl emanating from his chest. Dean pulled his head back at that, surprised, and lowered his hands, pretending he wasn't covering up the bit of pressure he felt in between his legs. Though, the hot water increased the throbbing in his right hand tenfold. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He was going to have to take care of that. But the fact that Cas was turning him on? Wow, that was annoying.

Cas had better not notice. Not like it was sticking up too much at least.

He cleared his throat, and settled himself down deeper, feeling warm marble against his skin, water lapping at him.

"Alright, so, you have to call your friend or something?"

Castiel gasped. "Meg! I completely forgot."

Cas dashed out of the room, probably to grab his phone, but then he came back in, realizing it was broken.

"I'll get you a new one," Dean said, as he saw Cas smacking it.

He used his thumb print to get into his own phone, and then tossed it to Cas.

"No going through my pictures," he warned.

"Sure."

Cas left as he was dialing a number.

"Don't tell her who you're with!"

"Don't want to anyway!"

"Asshole," Dean muttered. "Ass… hole."

Yep, that's what Cas was.

Or was he?