Chapter summary: Dean tries to figure out what his relationship with Castiel is, and contemplates when he should leave, and why he keeps putting it off. He wonders if the two subjects are mutually exclusive.
Author's Note: Yay for updates! I made the chapter a little longer than I was originally going to because I'm not sure when I'll be able to post next. I'm going to be putting a lot of focus on my DCBB, so that will take up most of my writing time. So enjoy a little extra story! I hope you all like it. As usual, this is unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.
Chapter warnings: nyctophobia, small panic attack, nightmares, mentions of Dean's attack, masturbation, and angsty thoughts.
Dean bby is trying to sort out what his feelings for Cas are, and he's just not good at that sort of thing.


Dean sat bolt upright in bed.

His short gasps filled the quiet as he struggled to breathe. It felt like his chest was constricting, squeezing the air out of his lungs with each breath, his body covered in a cold sweat that made the sheets stick to him as he looked around the room.

The guest room. In Castiel's house. He was at Castiel's.

He was safe.

As the feeling of security slowly sank in, he felt his body relax. With shaky hands, he tried rubbing his face to help him feel more awake as his heart pounded in his ears and made his chest throb with each beat.

The nightmare had felt so real, in the way only the worst ones did; it was an exact replay of that night less than a week ago, the one where he woke up on his stomach, bound and exposed.

Looking at his hands, he carefully traced over one of his wrists. The bruises from the rope had long since healed never fully formed, really- but he could still feel it, the burn of it against his skin, the imprint of it as he struggled, completely helpless, at the mercy of someone who wanted to do him harm.

With a sickening lurch, Dean threw the covers off and headed into the bathroom, fighting the sudden nauseating feeling in his stomach. He didn't bother with the light, he rarely did; usually it was because he didn't need it, but this time, it was for comfort. He felt a little safer in the dark, sometimes. It was almost a comfort, being able to see, but not be seen. It gave him a stronger sense of control, which helped the shakes die down.

The water felt cold against his hands when he turned the tap on, and it made him more alert when he splashed some of it on his face. His heart rate was still a little high, so he thought it again, over and over like a mantra: It was only a nightmare. It was over. He was safe. Again and again he said it until the trembling stopped. How many times was he going to have this nightmare?

When he reemerged from the bathroom, he saw the sky starting to lighten- the sun was just about to rise. Knowing there was no way he'd be able to fall back asleep before it was time to get up, he threw on a shirt, made his bed and headed downstairs.

Dean loved this time of morning, though he usually only saw it when he was about to fall asleep. There was something about the newness of the day that spoke to him, coupled with the idea of isolation, but in a comforting way. Dean felt the most alone right before dawn. Alone and safe. Untouchable.

Except he wasn't untouchable. And he wasn't alone.

He was safe, though, and not just at the break of morning.

Which brought his thoughts back around to Castiel, as his thoughts were prone to doing these days. It was a pleasant surprise that the time he spent there at Castiel's house was so comfortable. He got along great with him- Dean had never spent so much time around one person without so much as a disagreement coming up before. Sure, the guy missed a few of his jokes and was a little slow to pick up on sarcasm, but he was just so… nice? No, it was more than that. He was good. And he made Dean feel good.

He made Dean feel a lot of things, many of which he was unfamiliar with. And Dean had a way of dealing with things he didn't understand: ignore them. What was the point of trying to sort through these new emotions if he was leaving soon, anyway?

Dean headed over to the cabinet for a glass before going to the tap for water, the thought of leaving still going through his head. It wasn't that he didn't like it there- on the contrary, Castiel's house was awesome; he had access to free and unlimited TV, internet, phone, and food. Plus, the location was beautiful, even though he hadn't gone out to enjoy it yet. More than once, Dean felt like he was on vacation as opposed to hiding out.

But he couldn't stay. It wouldn't be right. Dean had lived the first twenty-four years of his life being a burden on others, he wasn't going to put his problems on Castiel. It didn't matter how much the guy insisted, Dean knew that, somewhere down the line, he'd be a problem. No matter where he went, no matter what he did, Dean always brought trouble to those who sheltered him. It was only a matter of time before whatever was out there trying to get him followed him here, and when it did catch up to him, he wouldn't put Castiel in the line of fire. He couldn't. If something happened to him because he was trying to protect Dean… He wasn't going to let that happen. No one was going to get hurt because of him. Not again.

So then why was he dragging his feet? Castiel never brought it up, but Dean was sure to mention it from time to time. Despite how he felt, he wasn't going to let his host think he was getting too comfortable and had changed his mind about staying. Dean considered that to be leading him on, and it wouldn't be fair. The excuses Dean gave himself were always valid, but as the days added up, they became less and less true. Back in the wake of his attack when he was still shaken up and needed to get his bearings straight, then of course it was reasonable that he stayed. But that was five days ago. And he really was going to leave.

But then the nightmares started. The nightly reoccurring reminders of his own vulnerability. They were shaking him up, vividly reminding him of what he might have to face again if he left. It wasn't that he was getting too comfortable, it wasn't the internet and the scenery that made him delay his departure. Dean was scared. This house meant protection, and leaving there meant the possibility that he could get attacked again, and he couldn't always count on a rescue from a friendly stranger to save him.

And then there was the rescuer himself. If Dean was being honest with himself- and I mean uncomfortably open, fully no-bullshit honest- Dean liked him. He was something Dean had never had before. It was different with Sam, where he had to hold back, or with his dad who he couldn't really open up to.

For the first time since Mary was alive, Dean had someone. Castiel was safe. He was honest and good and could be trusted. He knew about Dean's biggest secret, and somehow, without that obstacle, Dean found he could be himself for a change. It had taken him a while to come up with a word to match the feeling until one fit: acceptance. Castiel accepted Dean exactly as he was. There was nothing to hide, no reason to hold back. Dean could just be. It sounded so simple, but it was huge, and Dean never really appreciated the magnitude of it until Castiel reminded him what that felt like.

Put aside the fear of leaving, how fragile and vulnerable he felt, because even without that, Dean would still put off leaving. Not the house, but Castiel. Dean was reluctant to let go of the only chance of happiness he's ever been offered. Though, he reasoned, it's not like he couldn't come back. And what made him think Castiel liked him that way, anyway? The guy was just helping him out, that didn't mean he actually had feelings for Dean.

This was exactly why he never thought about these things. Better to ignore them, put them aside. Forget about them.

It was easier. It was safer. And Dean was all about safety first.

Thoughts of uncertainty and lingering traces of fear clogged Dean's head, making him feel a little dizzy. After he washed and put his glass away, he decided to go out on the patio for some fresh air.

It really was beautiful out there. The mountains in the distance, the lake just a little ways out from the house, the crisp, cool, clean September air. Just a few lungfuls, and Dean already felt better. His eyes gazed out at the shore of the lake. Another thing he liked about this place was the solitude, the complete withdrawal from the rest of humanity; out here, it was easy to feel like he was the only person around for miles.

Until he wasn't.

The sudden movement near the trees immediately drew his eye. Before his brain could even register the work 'jogger,' his body reacted instinctively, making him jump and dash back into the safety of the house. He knew he was being paranoid, knew that the person was way too far away to see him, and even if he did, it wasn't like he was glowing, but paranoia was a big part of keeping him alive this far. Carefully, he crept to the window in the door, and with his whole body concealed save for one eye, Dean gazed out at the other side of the lake.

Should he go tell Castiel? No, there was no need to wake him. If the man started running this way, then maybe, but as of now, there was no reason to think he was anything other than-

Wait… Dean narrowed his eyes at the retreating figure, his eyesight sharp enough to take in some of his appearance. Cautiously, Dean stepped back out onto the patio for a better look. Relief and a bit of something else he couldn't be bothered to identify made him break out in a smile.

Didn't Castiel say he liked to go running?

Without thinking, Dean half-ran to the shoe rack by the door and slipped on the new sneakers he had yet to wear, before taking off in the direction of the jogger.

He had been meaning to go see the lake, anyway.


The area behind the house was gorgeous. Colorful flowers and pretty plants decorated the paths, and the closer he got to the lake, the more beautiful it looked. The water was calm and surprisingly blue. There was even a dock near the right, almost on the opposite side of the house, that would make a great place to jump in. All of it framed by the mountains in the distance, the sun just breaking the dawn of morning

And Dean might have noticed it, if he were to give it the lightest hint of attention. There were a few paths that lead in the direction of the lake, and Dean took the one that looked the most used, sprinting passed the beautiful flowers and jumping over large stones in his haste to catch up to Castiel. He had had a good start, but he was only jogging, and Dean was fast.

The closer Dean got, the more giddy he felt. He couldn't explain it, he knew it was childish, but the thought that Castiel didn't know he was coming, that he was going to surprise him, made Dean feel like laughing. It was fun. You didn't have to explain fun.

The path veered off to the right up ahead, away from the lake, and Dean had a small pause- was he even on the right path? Too late to go back and try again, he thought, and continued off to the right. His lungs and thighs started to get that hint of a burn, but Dean ignored it. He really needed to work out more. Maybe he could start running with Castiel in the morning. If the guy was gonna do it anyway, then he might as well join him. Anything you could do on your own could always be more fun with someone else, right?

Just as the idea came to him, he picked up on the sound of footsteps near by, a steady, slower pace than Dean's. Dean immediately slowed just as the figure came into view up ahead- just behind a curve of trees was Castiel. Dean smirked to himself. Quietly, Dean resumed his running, much slower now, but faster than his target. The giddy feeling in his stomach grew with each step until it felt like a fluttering in his gut.

When he was about ten feet away, he noticed a wire hanging from Castiel's ear- headphones. Perfect. Knowing he didn't have to worry about being heard made it all that much easier to get closer. It also helped with Dean's uncontrollable snickering. Finally, when he was right behind him, Dean pounced on Castiel like a cat would a toy.

There was only one thing Dean didn't account for in his otherwise flawless plan to surprise Castiel: physics. The momentum from Dean's jump knocked an unsuspecting Castiel forward, and with the weight of another man on him, he tripped. Thinking fast, Dean drew Castiel close to him and threw his weight so he could take the impact, making Castiel fall on top of him instead of the ground. Somehow, he didn't think his small act of heroism would be getting a 'thank you.'

If Dean wanted a surprised Castiel, then mission accomplished. If his back didn't hurt so much, he might have laughed at the look of panic on Castiel's face when he turned to face his attacker.

"Oops," Dean said with a wince.

"Dean?" Rolling over to face Dean, Castiel looked at him with wide and confused eyes. "What happened? Are you okay? What's wrong? What are you doing out here?"

The questions came very fast, and it took Dean a second to realize that Castiel was concerned. Somehow, that notion made him laugh. There Dean was, trying to scare him, then accidentally knocking the wind out of himself like an idiot, and instead of getting angry, instead of laughing with a 'Serves you right,' he was worried that something was wrong.

"M'fine, m'fine," Dean waved it off with another laugh before looking up at Castiel. From where he was. On his back. Laying underneath him.

Dean's throat went suddenly dry when the position they were in dawned on him, while Castiel, holding himself up by his arms, looked down at him with confusion and concern. Unaware of the turn Dean's thoughts had taken, Castiel continued with his need to make sense of the situation.

"What are you doing out here? Did you need something? Is something wrong at the house?"

"Cas," Dean said, finally deciding to sit up before Castiel caught on to his awkwardness. "I'm fine, everything is fine, relax-"

"But then why did you jump on me if there wasn't an emergency?"

Dean looked at Castiel from where he sat in front of him, taking in the way he leaned forward and his expression of confusion, and uncertainty filled Dean's thoughts.

"I, uh," Dean said, running his hand over the back of his neck. "I was trying to scare you. You know, like a surprise?"

Castiel blinked at him a few times.

"You wanted to scare me," Castiel said. "Like a prank."

Dean gave an apologetic half-shrug, unsure how Castiel would react. Before Dean could properly say sorry, however, the man surprised him by laughing.

"You ran all the way out here just to scare me?" Castiel said around his chuckling. "Well, if it helps anything, it worked. I was definitely scared."

Brushing the dirt off of his pants, Castiel stood up and reached a hand to help Dean stand.

"What are you doing up this early?" Castiel asked as he wrapped his headphones around his iPod and pocketed it. "I didn't wake you when I got up, did I?"

"No, no, I just…" had yet another terrifying nightmare about my almost-rape for the fifth time this week. "Couldn't sleep. I went to get some water when I saw you from the kitchen window."

"Oh, okay, that's- wait, you saw me from the house? From the other side of the lake?" Castiel looked confused for a moment before smiling in understanding. "Oh right, I forgot. Of course your eyesight would be perfect. Well, since you're here, did you want to jog with me?"

Dean had to really try to suppress his smile.

"Yeah, sure, if you wouldn't mind the company. I've been meaning to see the lake."

"Of course I wouldn't mind, I like spending time with you."

And he failed.

"The lake is beautiful this time of morning," Castiel continued, kindly ignoring the stupid grin on Dean's face. "Wanna race there?"

And then Dean's grin turned into a smirk.

"You sure that's a good idea? I mean, I don't wanna brag, but I'm pretty fast."

"I think I can hold my own," Castiel said confidently. "The lakes not too much farther from here, it's just around this clearing. But before we start, could you help me find my iPod? I think I dropped it when I fell."

Castiel pointed to the tree behind him next to where Dean first tackled him. Eyes on the ground searching for something shiny, Dean walked half-bent over to the area before he remembered that he saw Castiel put his iPod in his pocket. Just as he was about to straighten up and remind Castiel, he felt a hand on his back push him and he toppled over. Turning around to ask what the deal was, he found that Castiel was gone, the sound of quick footsteps fading by the second towards the lake.

"Oh, you cheating son of a bitch," Dean laughed as he jumped up and bolted after Castiel.

Dean had to admit, Castiel was pretty fast, but Dean was gaining on him with each step. Within ten seconds, he had caught up, trailing just behind him, as the reflection of the water came into view up ahead. Dean pulled even with him as they neared the clearing, and was the first to break past the line of trees, beating Castiel by several feet.

"Ha!" Dean cheered with a fist in the air as he turned to face a still running Castiel. "Sorry, no trophies for second plac-"

The breath from Dean's sentence was knocked right out of him as Castiel tackled him to the ground.

"What's that they say about payback?" Castiel said. After catching his breath, he rolled off Dean's stupefied form and walked over to the shoreline. Carefully, he stood on one foot, and tipped the toe of his sneaker into the water. "I win!" Castiel called back over his shoulder.

"What?" Dean exclaimed with an incredulous laugh from where he still laid on the grass. Coming back to his senses, he stood back up and walked towards the cheater. "What do you mean 'you win?' I got here miles before you did!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Castiel said sarcastically. "Did I say we were racing to the area around the lake, or to the actual lake? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm sure I said the latter."

"Wow," Dean said, staring at Castiel with a smile of disbelief. "I gotta say, I always pictured you as a sort of goody two-shoes, I had no idea you were such a rule-breaker."

"Rule-breaker?" Castiel said, placing a hand on his heart and looking mock-offended. "We didn't set any rules."

"They're universally understood," Dean educated him. "Everyone knows you don't push someone before a race, and you don't put loop-holes for the finish line. It's called sportsmanship."

"You know," Castiel smirked as he walked onto the dock and waited for Dean to follow him. "If you go through life assuming everyone follows your rules, you're going to end up disappointed and losing a lot of races."

"Clearly."

"Don't be a sore loser."

"I'm not being a sore anything," Dean mumbled as he followed Castiel down to the end of the dock and sat down. "It really is nice out here."

The sun had finally shown itself just over the horizon, turning the sky into an array of different pale colors, and casting it's light over the stillness of the lake. The dock went about fifteen feet out into the lake, and he had to keep his feet up a few inches to keep his shoes from getting wet. Castiel took a seat next to him, bringing up a hand to help shield some of the light from his eyes. It was quiet for a few moments. Peaceful. Dean could count on one hand the number of times he felt this relaxed outdoors, and never had they happened with someone else present.

It was just another way Castiel was different. Dean would never have had the urge to run and laugh and be this carefree before coming here, and while he was definitely checking himself every few seconds to make sure he didn't slip, he still couldn't believe he was risking it. Ever since the moment he caught his reflection in that window, since he found himself glowing in front of Castiel, he had been on a sort of Happiness Watch, determined not to slip up like that again. While we was sure Castiel didn't mind, and that no one else was near by to see him, he wasn't going to let himself get complacent.

That was how accidents happened.

Even still, he couldn't help but feel happy. This morning was proving to be one of the funnest mornings that he could recall. From chasing and scaring Castiel, to the fun of their race (which Dean totally won, he didn't care what anyone said), hell, even their bantering, all of it, was making him feel happy. Right then, in that moment, sitting on that dock with Castiel watching the sunrise like some cheesy chick flick movie ending, Dean could feel the prickle of his glow right under his skin, fighting him every second to reveal itself.

And he wanted to let it.

It wasn't just about feeling safe; when Dean was around Castiel, he felt happy. Everything felt right and good in a way he hadn't felt in too long.

Dean didn't realized he had been staring at Castiel for a little too long until the man turned to face him. Their eyes met, and for the briefest flash of a moment, Dean could have sworn he felt something pass between them. Like they understood what the other was thinking, because they were thinking it, too. All of a few seconds passed before Dean looked back out at the lake.

"Yep," he said. "Really nice out here."

"I like it," Castiel agreed. In Dean's peripherals, he saw him turn back to the lake and nod. "It's nice and quiet."

"If you like the quiet so much, why'd you bring an iPod?"

"Running to music is very motivating," Castiel answered matter-of-factly.

"What were you listening to?" Dean asked. He was curious of Castiel's taste in tunes.

"That's not of import," Castiel dismissed. "I hope you'll run with me again. I find it much more motivational when I have someone to run with."

"You mean when you have someone to beat you. That's a good idea, I'm sure it'll be a good exercise for you to try and keep up with me."

"You mean like I did today? Remind me, who won that race again?"

"I will shove you in this lake."

"I'll pull you in with me."

"You can try."

"We'll see what my try is worth when you're swimming with me."

"You think you're strong enough to best me?" Dean said, looking at Castiel with a challenging smirk.

"Only one way to find out," Castiel answered, not backing down from Dean's stare.

"Keep it up," Dean joked, looking back out at the lake, because staring at Castiel's eyes was doing him no favors. "That water is looking really cold for you."

Castiel just laughed and playfully knocked his shoulder against Dean's.

"But yeah," Dean said. "I'd like to go running with you. I'm so out of shape, it'll do me some good to get some exercise in every now and then."

"This is you out of shape?" Castiel asked with an air of disbelief, making Dean laugh.

"I appreciate your surprised reaction," Dean said.

"I guess that makes sense," Castiel added with an understanding nod. "It would explain why you couldn't beat me running here- you've become sluggish, but you didn't want to admit it, so you blamed your shortcomings on me. It all makes sense now."

"Hey, can I see your iPod real quick?"

"Why, did you want to listen to something?"

"No, I just don't want it in your pocket when you hit the water."

The sound of Castiel's laugh filled the space between them, and Dean thought it was a nice sound. He'd like to hear it more often.

"So what are you going to make for breakfast?" Castiel asked after his chuckling subsided, as if deciding that maybe he didn't feel like taking a morning swim.

Somehow over the past week, cooking became Dean's thing. As it turned out, Castiel preferred quick easy-to-make meals that were usually stored in the freezer. Then Dean started making their meals, and it just sort of stuck. Not that he minded- cooking was possibly the one chore Dean enjoyed. I mean, why have a fully functioning kitchen if you weren't gonna use it? And he was definitely in favor of the positive reactions Castiel had towards his food, always smiling when he went into the kitchen and smelled what was being made, maybe taking a small sample and thanking Dean for making it.

"I was thinking omelets," Dean answered.

"Mmm," Castiel hummed in appreciation. "If I knew that was on the menu, I would have started heading back by now."

Castiel stood and reached his hand out to Dean to help him up for the second time that morning.

"Yeah, I'm getting hungry, too." Dean added as they started walking back towards the trees. A sudden thought occurred to him and he grinned at Castiel. "Hey, wanna race to the house?"

"No, I feel like walking."

"Now who's the sore loser?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Dean and Castiel's friendly back-and-forth bantering continued all the way back to the house. Fun, teasing comments, small shoves, and easy laughs flowed between them until Castiel left Dean in the kitchen to take a shower. While Dean stood at the stove and started preparing to make the omelets, he thought back on his morning with an easy grin.

The fear from the nightmare was long gone, completely forgotten in the wake of his time with Castiel, replacing it with smiles and new memories.


Unfortunately, Castiel had to work that afternoon, and while Dean never disliked having the house to himself, the long Castiel-less hours became lonely after awhile. When Castiel locked himself in his office (which turned out to be the room with the huge bookshelf), Dean looked for ways to keep himself occupied.

As there were only two people living in the house, it didn't really get messy, but Dean went about cleaning anyway. It was his go-to thing when Castiel wasn't around, partly because nothing passed the time like chores, but mostly because it was essentially the only thing he could do to show his thanks for free living. Cooking, cleaning, and providing company. That was it. It wasn't much, but it would have to do until he left, found a good paying job, and could offer Castiel money for his help. He doubted Castiel would even accept money from him, because he was just awesome that way. but that didn't mean he couldn't offer.

Once the carpeted rooms were vacuumed, the wooden floors swept, every surface of the downstairs dusted, Dean ran out of things to do. Both him and Castiel were orderly- they did their dishes as they dirtied them, and nothing was really out of place.

Dean stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking around. He couldn't think of anything else to do. There was always Netflix, but the internet wasn't the fastest here, and if Castiel was using the computer upstairs, he didn't want to slow his connection. So then how else could he pass the time?

The thought nudged at his mind and slowly took root, making Dean grin. That wasn't something he had done in a while- definitely not since he had arrived at Castiel's. He looked at the clock on the stove- if Castiel stuck to his usual schedule, then there were still two hours to kill before his host left his office.

Plenty of time for a few rounds.

With a slightly devious smirk, Dean trotted up the stairs, but quieted when he reached the landing and passed the closed door of the office. Dean slipped into the guest room and hesitated before locking the door- was he allowed to? He thought it might be best not to- Castiel always knocked anyway, and he'd hear him if he left the office. Shrugging it off, he turned away from it and stepped more into the room. Despite his being on the second floor in a house that was on a mountain, Dean still followed his habit of checking the curtains, making sure no trace of light could get through. It made the room dark, but when he reached for the light switch, he stopped himself; he was going to leave the light off this time.

The urge to glow that followed so closely to his arousal hummed just under his skin, but it felt different from how it usually did. Maybe it was because this time was different; Dean wasn't under threat here, there was no danger, but the feeling carried the hint of shame that said he was doing something private in someone else's home. It had that feeling of wrongness, and it just made Dean want to do it more.

Slowly, almost as if teasing himself, Dean stripped off his clothes. Standing in the middle of the room, he pulled off his shirt and dropped it in front of the dresser. Warm hands ran over his chest, his abs, before finding his hips. Hooking his thumbs under the waistbands of both his pants and boxers, he pushed them down, and let them drop, kicking them to fall beside his shirt.

He took a deep breath, and let go.

It was like feeling the sun on his skin after living in a cave, the glow flowing freely over his skin, warm and natural. The pleasant pins and needles sensation overtook any other as Dean looked down at himself.

God, he loved the way this felt. A natural, full body glow, confident and bold, illuminating the room around him. He took his time, admiring the contrast he gave the dark room. The longer he stood there, the more he believed it was an instinct, the urge to light up dark spaces, to chase away the black and fill it with his glow. This was what he was made for.

But he didn't come up here just to look around.

Dean went over to the bed, walking on his knees over the comforter until he could throw himself onto his back in the center of the mattress. His hands trembled slightly as the anticipation built up. It was stronger this time than it was the others, felt more intense, somehow; he didn't even need to work himself up, already able to reach down and drag three fingers through his slick before it dripped onto the blanket.

Just because he had all the time he could want didn't mean he wanted to go slow, so without further teasing, he took himself in hand, spreading the slick around his length in a tight fist. The rush of sensations caused by his wetness made him gasp and he let out a small moan of appreciation, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Then a reminder struck him- Castiel was right down the hall.

Instead of motivating him to stay silent, the thought made Dean groan and he moved his hand just a little faster, rubbing the slick into his skin with each movement. Somehow the idea that Castiel was so close by while he was doing this made his arousal spark through him. But that didn't make sense- Dean was usually terrified by the idea of someone discovering him like this, not fantasizing about being walked in on, and yet, that was all that was going through his mind. Maybe that's why he didn't lock the door; maybe he wanted Castiel to find him like this, maybe he wanted Castiel to come in here, maybe he wanted Castiel-

Dean flinched hard and sat up so fast it made him momentarily dizzy. What the hell was he thinking? Why would he want Castiel anywhere near him while he was exposed like this? While he was in a glow and touching himself?

A thought occurred to him then- that's why this was feeling so different. Any time Dean had ever done this, it was for the sake of relieving himself, to make himself feel good. Never had he pleasured himself with someone else in mind. It felt more… intense. Dean couldn't deny that the idea scared him a little. But he also couldn't deny that it excited him. A lot.

He looked back down at himself, contemplating stopping; his body was still very much interested in continuing (and maybe his mind was as well), but should he? Slowly, almost as if he were suspicious of his own mind, Dean laid back down on the bed, re-slicked his hand, and gripped himself again. His movements were slower now, almost hesitant, but eventually he was able to find a steady rhythm.

Within seconds, his body picked right back up where he left off, but his mind was having trouble cooperating. His thoughts were a little harder to control, and they kept straying away from where he wanted them. He tried to focus on the feeling, and not think of anything (or anyone) specific, but no matter what he did, thoughts of Castiel streamed back into his mind. There was no stopping it. It came to a point where Dean had to choose: either stop touching himself, force his glow away, and get dressed, or… accept it.

Dean chose the latter.

Without his mental blockade, his mind filled itself with moments of Castiel, either real or invented. He thought about before at the lake, the way Castiel had held himself over him, of how he had tackled him to the ground, so much stronger than he looked. The solid weight of him felt so good against Dean's body, even though it was just for a moment.

Dean's hips rocked up into his fist, his breathing turning harsh, echoing loudly in the empty room. Not too loudly, but maybe loud enough… The office was only a little ways down the hall… Dean imagined what might happen if Castiel heard him. In his mind's eye, he fantasized Castiel hearing him so out of breath and coming to check on him, opening the door just enough to make sure he was okay.

And when he saw Dean, spread out on the bed, desperate, and so bright, what would he do? What did Dean want him to do? Fuck, he wanted Castiel to touch him. To kiss him, to move against him, for his weight to cover him, and push him into the mattress. Dean wanted to know what it felt like to have Castiel's body heat pressed against him, to know what he tasted like after he kissed marks into his neck. He wanted to know what Castiel's hand would feel like in place of his own, working him closer and making him feel perfect. Dean wanted to hear Castiel's voice, so deep but comforting, as he whispered in his ear, encouraging him to come, telling him how good he was, how he made Castiel feel. God he just wanted-

"Cas," Dean hissed as his orgasm ripped through him, his whole body shuddering with the force of it.

It felt like a star burst behind his eyes, the heat rolling over his skin as he tried to catch his breath. When he could finally open his eyes, all he could see was his light reflecting off the ceiling, and either he had forgotten how bright he could become, or he had never glowed this hard before. He had definitely never come this hard before, and it was taking a lot longer for him to come back to himself than it normally did.

When his breath evened out, and his heart rate slowed, and he felt he had the strength the do so, Dean propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at his body. Glistening patches of come shined up at him in patterns all over his stomach and chest, almost like a decoration. Dean slid a finger through one of the thicker drops and brought it up to his face, as always, admiring the glittery look of it.

Dean spent the next minute licking his fingers clean until his stomach was dry. There was definitely a lot more come than he was used to, not that he minded of course, but it was another change to account for. When he shifted his hips against the bed, he could feel himself dripping; Dean was normally wet after an orgasm, but when he felt how much was leaking out of him now, he knew it was more than normal.

Spent and satisfied, Dean laid back on the bed with a long exhale and let his thoughts wander, though there was really only one thing to think about.

Castiel.

Dean was not so naive and sheltered that he didn't know what this meant. He, in some way, liked Castiel. That much was obvious. But how much of what he felt was real? He had only known the guy for a week, verging on less. There was no way what he felt for Castiel was anything more than (he stayed determinedly away from the term 'crush') superficial. It was temporary. After all, Dean was, to put it lamely, pent up when it came to his hormones, and now he was spending the majority of everyday with an (extremely) attractive guy. Thoughts like this were bound to happen, it's only rational. Expected, really.

Just because they had spent a lot of time together, and had gotten to know a lot about each other, and had shared a good handful of personal, intimate moments, and enjoyed each others company, and Dean missed him when he was gone, and Castiel said he liked spending time with him didn't mean that what he felt was serious.

Right?

Dean let out a frustrated groan before sitting up, his jumbled thoughts starting to give him a headache. He needed to get his shit together and kill his glow before he did anything else, but before he could try and force it, his mind ventured somewhere unexpected-

Just because Dean like Castiel didn't mean Castiel would like him back.

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, and the room went abruptly dark.

Well, he thought with a bitter laugh, that took care of that. He went to remake the bed when he saw the large and obvious wet spot and decided to strip the sheets for washing. Placing the bundle on the bed, he grabbed his clothes from the front of the dresser and added them to the bundle before redressing in something from the closet. He pulled out some jeans and a solid green shirt that he hadn't worn yet, pulling them on. The shirt had that nice, new softness to it, and it felt good on his slightly sensitive skin. He was careful not to think about how Castiel had bought it for him.

With a defeated sigh, Dean sank onto the bed again. What should he do? How long was he going to keep this up? It would only get worse if he stayed, he knew it. Maybe now was a good time to leave. Without warning, a flash from his nightmare lit up his mind's eye, and Dean shuddered hard, goosebumps erupting over his skin as fear seized through him. He could leave, but what if…

Before he could fully recover, he heard a door open down the hall.

"Dean?" a rough voice called out, muffled slightly by the closed door between them.

"Yeah," Dean answered. "I'm in here!"

Footsteps approached the guest room, but stopped when they got to the door, Castiel speaking to him though it.

"The weather is starting to get bad, and they're calling for a thunderstorm tonight. The internet went out, so I was going to go start lunch if you wanted to join me," Castiel told him before adding. "If you're not too busy, of course. I mean, you don't have to, I'm not asking you to make me anything, I just thought-"

"Yeah," Dean interrupted, stopping Castiel from repeatedly correcting himself as he was known to do. "That sounds fine, I'll be right down."

"Oh," Castiel said. "Okay, then. I'll just… meet you in the kitchen. No hurry, just come when you can. If you want."

With another pause, as if he were thinking of adding something else, Castiel could be heard walking down the hall, his footsteps going down the stairs.

Dean had to hold back a laugh, because yeah, that was so like Castiel, wanting to ask for his help, but not wanting to sound demanding or bother him, and not opening the door because he didn't want to intrude on Dean's space, even though this was his house. They were funny to him, these little quirks of Castiel's. Sure the guy was a little weird, but mostly he was-

Dean's thought process stopped when he saw the room light up, and it gave him pause as he looked around for the source before settling on his hands.

Oh. Well then.

He was glowing again. All traces of the fear and doubt from his earlier thoughts had vanished, and he grinned at the sight.

Fuck it. He didn't want to think about it anymore, whether this was a good or bad thing. If it meant he had some one-sided feelings, who cared? He would deal with them later, or never, because that always worked for him. And maybe he was putting off leaving, but there was no point concerning himself about that now, not lunch being prepared in the kitchen, and a thunderstorm on it's way.

He didn't have to worry about it now, and that was all that mattered.

Double checking his dull, glow-free skin, Dean grabbed the bundle of cloth to throw in the washing machine and left the guest room.


Thunder shook the whole house and Dean could feel the vibrations of it resonate through his body as he joined Castiel on the couch.

The storm, it turned out, was indeed pretty bad that night. If it weren't for Castiel's reassurances that the house was safe and had suffered through much worse, Dean would be worried. But as it was, he relaxed into the plush couch and handed over the large bowl of popcorn he had made for their movie.

Being the good host that he is, Castiel had let Dean choose what they saw. He looked over the sizable collection of DVD's on the shelf beside the TV, his eyes immediately falling on the perfect thing- couldn't go wrong with Star Wars, right?

The nostalgic look Castiel had had when he handed the movie over made Dean pause- because shit, was that one of Samandriel's movies?- but it only lasted a moment before it was replaced with a smile. Dean went to make their snack while Castiel set up the movie.

"This is actually one of my favorites," Castiel informed Dean as large, yellow words scrolled up the screen.

"See, I knew there was a reason we got along so well," Dean said.

He reached over Castiel and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl in his lap. He was aware he could have just held the bowl himself. He chose not to.

But Castiel didn't offer it back, instead letting Dean reach over him each time he wanted popcorn, but Dean wasn't going to read into that. Best to just focus on the movie, and not the warmth of the shoulder that was pressed against his. He hadn't meant to sit that close, but Castiel didn't move away, either.

The movie played on, and it was a good thing that Dean had seen it so many times, or he would be completely lost to what was happening. He couldn't help it- Castiel was just so distracting. The gruff sound of his laugh was way more interesting to listen to than 3PO sassing at R2. Every movement caught Dean's attention, from his hand that was transferring popcorn from a steadily emptying bowl to his mouth, to the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Even the smell of him drew some of Dean's focus away from the movie. When Castiel leaned forward to grab his drink from the coffee table, Dean found himself holding his breath, until Castiel resettled next to him, their shoulders still touching, and he relaxed.

As both of them had seen the movie, it was natural that they talk throughout the whole thing, giving their opinions, adding their own commentary, and pointing out their favorite parts.

"I had the biggest crush of Han when I was growing up," Castiel admitted with a laugh. "I think I still do."

When Dean looked back on this moment in the future, he would ponder how it was he didn't have a bigger reaction, because instead of looking at Castiel in surprise, or reflecting on the man's sexuality, he laughed and said-

"Seriously? Me, too! Sammy and I would get into arguments because he thought Luke was more powerful, and we argue over who was better."

"That doesn't sound like much of an argument, though I may be biased," Castiel admitted.

"Luke may have had special abilities, but Han was just… I don't know, cooler."

"Han didn't need special abilities, he got on fine without them."

"See, you just get it," Dean said.

He relished in the small laugh it earned him, turning to see the smile he had won, too. What he saw, instead, was Castiel staring at him. The look of humor froze on his face, and he looked for a moment like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been. Their eyes met, and Dean couldn't look away. They were so close. Close enough that Dean could feel the warmth of Castiel's breath on his skin as he breathed almost too slowly.

There is was again. That feeling as if something were passing between them, as if they knew the other's thoughts because they were thinking it, too. He watched as Castiel's eyes flashed down to his mouth, and without meaning to do so, Dean automatically licked his lips. When Castiel met his eyes again, he could see the unasked question, and Dean inched forward as if drawn to him.

That's when everything went dark.

Dean's head jerked to look at the room in surprise, his eyes adjusting immediately to the sudden darkness; all of the lights had gone out, the TV screen black, just as another boom of thunder shook the room. Enough seconds passed before a back up generator kicked on, and the lights blinked back to life, the TV emitting a blank, blue screen as his eyes readjusted. Dean felt like his heart was in his throat, though he wasn't sure it was just from the shock of the short power outage. He let out a small chuckle to cover his embarrassment.

"Almost forgot about the storm for a seco-"

The words stuck in Dean's throat when he turned back to Castiel.

Castiel's eyes were wide, fearful, and he had one hand on his heart, as if trying to force it to slow down. His gasps could be heard over the pouring rain outside and the cracks of thunder. He looked so small and terrified. Dean reacted instinctively.

"Hey," he whispered. "Hey, look at me, it's okay."

Dean placed both hands on his shoulders and turned his body more towards him until blue eyes met his. They were still wide as Castiel looked at Dean and slumped against him, and Dean held him against his chest, rocking him slightly, whispering comforts in his ear. He could feel Castiel's whole body shaking under his arms as he waited for the fear to pass.

After a few moments, Castiel did stop shaking, but Dean didn't let go, not until Castiel felt safe. More and more time passed until slowly, Castiel shakily pushed himself off of Dean. If Dean had thought he looked embarrassed when the lights clicked back on, it was nothing compared to the reddening of Castiel's face and his 'please let me evaporate' expression.

"I- I apologize," Castiel stammered out, his voice sounding faint. "I didn't mean to- I mean, I-"

"Cas," Dean cut in to spare Castiel from trying to find the words that weren't coming. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

Dean hesitated before asking; as curious as he was, he didn't want to embarrass Castiel further, but if something were wrong, he'd want to know if he could help.

"What… was that?" he asked cautiously.

Castiel sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, either to help him clear his eyesight or so he wouldn't have to look at Dean.

"I suffer from a condition called 'Nyctophobia,'" he stated, and as if sensing the confused look on Dean's face, he explained further. "It's a fear of the dark."

While his voice sounded stronger, it still carried that hint of fear, both from what had just happened as well as from judgment. A heaviness hung in the air between them, rich with Dean's worry and Castiel's uncertainty, and Dean just wanted to clear it out.

Dean knew these next few moments were delicate, and he had to treat them as such. The moment was hanging on whatever he was about to say next; it needed to carry the weight of comfort while letting Castiel know he wasn't being judged, but not be too heavy as to weigh the moment down more.

"I'm afraid of heights," Dean said with the air of a shrug. He thought about it for a second and decided to offer an embarrassment of his own. "Once, a few years back, this fair came through town, and my brother and I decided to go. There was this huge Ferris wheel there- and I mean huge, you could see it from miles away- and Sam bet me fifty dollars to go on it. Normally, I'd tell him to can it, but there were these two girls were we trying to impress, so I couldn't say no. When we got to the top, I got so sick, I puked all over everyone. Sam was so mad, but really, it was his own fault."

Dean's gaze was unfocused, caught up in the memory, but when he came to and looked back at Castiel, he saw the man staring at him with an unreadable expression.

It was Dean's turn to sit and wait for the reaction. Shit, did he say the wrong thing? He just told a vomit story, of course it was the wrong thing- what the hell was he thinking, this was a serious moment, why did he always have to-

The soft sound of Castiel's chuckle ceased Dean's self-berating.

"Did you ever get your fifty dollars?" Castiel asked him, and Dean grinned back.

"Nope," he declared. "Sam said he needed it to buy new pants and shoes. I got him back, though. See, he has a fear of clowns, so I bought a small clown doll and put it on his pillow while he was sleeping. Woke up with a scream."

Castiel laughed again, and Dean could feel the weight in the air dissipate with the sound.

"How afraid of heights are you? You know we are on a mountain."

"Eh," Dean shrugged. "We're close enough to the ground for me to be alright. Pretty much anything that's high enough for the fall to kill me is a no. Ferris wheels are a double no. Airplanes are a hell-no."

"That should be manageable. There aren't many of those around the house, so you should be fine."

Dean smiled at him and watched as Castiel returned it easily. It took Dean longer than it should have to realize his hand was still on Castiel's knee, a comforting touch from when the man was still shaking. Now that there were laughs between them, there was no reason to keep touching him. Except Castiel hadn't said anything. Dean decided to keep it there. For reassurance.

Movie long forgotten, Dean and Castiel stayed up late exchanging stories, mostly prank-based, until they were both in fits of laughter. Outside, the storm raged on, turning the surrounding area into a dark, dangerous downpour, but inside, there was only light, laughs, and good feelings.

Eventually, Dean fought a yawn, and Castiel pointed out that it was late. They switched off the TV and headed to the stairs together, walking side by side until they had to split up on the landing.

"Well, um," Castiel said. "Goodnight."

"See you in a few hours."

There was a pause, as if Castiel wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. With another small smile, he turned and walked to his room.

Dean laid out in the middle of the mattress, his thoughts putting off sleep for the time being. He kept reverting back to that moment, when the lights came back on, the look on Castiel's face… he had never seen him so scared. Despite the impression Dean gave, seeing Castiel like that did make him see him differently. He wasn't sure what it was, or what it said about him, but being so close when Castiel was so vulnerable changed something between them.

Maybe it was because Castiel had seen Dean like that. Vulnerable. Exposed. When he had rescued Dean that night, barely a week ago, he had seen Dean naked and terrified and helpless. It didn't get more vulnerable than that. When Castiel trembled against him, and Dean comforted him, it was like they could both relate. They understood each other, what it felt like to be ruled by their fears.

Dean concentrated on how it felt to hold Castiel in his arms. Though he wasn't thinking so at the time, it was nice. The weight of him, the warmth. And, oh! Dean almost gasped out loud. In the wake of the power outage, Dean had forgotten until his mind brought it to his attention.

The moment right before it went dark; were they about to…? No, he must have been imagining it. Must have been. Except Castiel held the bowl of popcorn, making Dean have to lean over him every time he wanted some. Except Castiel didn't move away when Dean sat a little too close, letting their shoulders touch throughout the movie. Except something definitely happened between them, both tonight on the couch, and that morning on the dock, when they looked at each other. Except Castiel had looked at Dean's lips, and he was so sure they were about to… This many signs didn't lead to coincidence.

Castiel had even said he had had a crush on Han Solo, so had was at least gay, if not bi. It was possible. Castiel might feel the same way.

The humming under Dean's skin had been bothering him since they started the movie, and kicked up again once they started telling stories. Here, in the safety of the guest room, Dean stopped resisting, giving out just the slightest glow that grew with each thought of Castiel, each notion of maybe.

That night, Dean let his mind lead him wherever it wanted him to go, sure to keep his moans quiet, even if he secretly did want them to echo down the hall. This time, he had the presence of mind to lay down a t-shirt over the clean sheets. He didn't want to have to explain why he had to wash his bedding twice in two days.