I posted the wrong chapter first, so if you were confused, I'm so sorry. I suck. I set it right now. I'M SO SORRY. Thanks CrapMusicCat for bothering to let me know that I'm a complete dumbass and... yeah.

Gabriel grabs his car keys and a jacket before he turns to his nervous brother. He doesn't understand the blind faith Castiel has in God and the unadulterated desire to comply everything He commands, but he couldn't leave the poor angel unattended on Earth. Life here is tough and a little noob like Cassie would get crushed by the cruel high schoolers if it wasn't for Gabe. Not to mention that Cassie has little to zero (and Gabriel is quite positive that it's closer to 'zero' than 'little') sexual experience.

How is marking Dean Winchester with Cassie's grace relevant to the chaos that is surely coming in a matter of years is beyond him, but he doesn't question it. If Winchester is somehow important to the future development of the world, then so be it. He learned not to query about any orders from Heaven that don't involve him centuries ago. The orders that do involve him are simply ignored. It's none of his business what's going on between those assholes upstairs.

Castiel is pacing around the room, breathing heavily, his eyes wide in horror. Gabriel walked him step by step through what he has to do, yet the idea of actually applying his newly acquired knowledge terrifies him. If he does something wrong, he might not get another chance to complete his task. That is unacceptable. He's never failed Heaven before and he won't change that now.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and sharply turns around to find Gabriel's sympathetic face reassuring him.

"Everything's going to be fine, Cassie."

Castiel exhales. "You don't know that. I have never done anything of the sort, Gabriel," he almost whispers. "I have no experience in this field. So many things could go wrong."

"It's not like you have to find the right hole to slip into, bro, there's only one. It's just a little bit of dicking around," Gabriel beams. "Dicking around. You get it?"

"Gabriel!"

"What? It's pure facts. And I know for fact that you have a thing for him."

At that exact moment, a knock on the door resonates through the small living room. Gabriel quirks an eyebrow and eyes his wristwatch. 4:56 PM. Dean is pretty eager, isn't he?

Castiel closes his eyes and performs something that resembles a prayer (and Gabe sure as hell hopes it isn't what it looks like because you don't just go around throwing 'amen's and 'hallelujah's when you're about to shove your holy dick up someone's asshole). He takes a final deep breath and creeks the door open while Gabriel squeezes his shoulder for the last time and leaves through the back door.

Dean doesn't know what convinced him to obey Cas or why he arrived four minutes earlier (seriously, what the fuck? Cas must think that he's a total loser). What he does know is that Cas is staring at him as intensely (and sexily, to be honest) as ever and if he doesn't stop soon, Dean will lose it.

"Hi," he manages to squeak in a totally not girly voice, pssh.

"Hello Dean," Cas rasps in return, not as smoothly as Dean would expect him to.

Cas motions for Dean to enter the house, which Dean immediately obliges.

The house is not huge, that much he could see from the outside, but it's a home, and for a minute, jealousy overwhelms him. He inspects the place as inconspicuously as he can manage, throwing glances at the furniture and pictures. Every photo contains only Gabriel and Cas and they're taken very recently. Dean fights the urge to inquire about Cas's family, which would be only fair since Cas already knows everything about his, but in the end decides to stay quiet.

Cas and he are no buddies. They don't need to become anything more than fellow students who've been unlucky enough to meet on Dean's bad night. Just because they will study together sometimes (or more like Dean will listen to Cas's excited banter and eyefuck him) doesn't mean he has any right to pry. Family business should stay between family. Dean made the mistake of confiding in another person, but exchanging life stories and gossiping while they paint each other's nails is a whole new level of fucked up.

"Would you like something to drink?" Cas asks in the same nervous voice from earlier.

"No, I'm good," Dean assures him. "Let's just get this over with, okay?"

Cas nods and licks his lips- and yeah, this is going to be way harder than Dean expected (pun intended).

They both sit on the opposite sides of the particularly big couch. Dean takes off his shoes and kicks them under the coffee table. He waits patiently for Cas to say something; nevertheless, the gorgeous boy only sits stiffly in awkward silence and focuses his cerulean eyes on Dean's shoes.

Dean wonders if Cas is some kind of germ freak and taking off his shoes ticked him off, but then Castiel trains his eyes on his lips and all is forgotten.

"I-" Cas starts, "I'm going to get the History book. Wait here."

Cas gets up so fast that he almost trips on flat surface and flees to the safety of his room.

Dean nearly huffs in disappointment before he remembers that History is the reason why Cas invited him. This whole thing is ridiculous. He can control himself (has to, in fact); he's not an animal. He's not even into guys that much. Usually, he goes after round breasts and wide hips. Boys are his last resolve in cases when the ladies present aren't his cup of tea. Now all he can think about is a pair of blue eyes and pink, kissable lips. That's just unfair.

Castiel takes time fetching his textbook. Dean certainly didn't look unwilling, so he shouldn't feel so guilty, right? Dean has copulated with people whom he knew less than Castiel; this is no big deal for him. Cas, on the other hand, is a virgin. Untouched for millennia, and a few weeks ago expecting to be untouched for the rest of eternity. He's just never had an occasion. Now the 'occasion' is sitting in his fake house on his fake couch, waiting for him to bring his fake textbook and babble about an unfortunately real war.

He descends the stairs as slowly as possible, putting off the inevitable. Dean is slouched on the couch with his face in his hands, mumbling under his breath. Castiel plops next to him, much closer than the last time. If he wants this to go somewhere, he must make his advances quickly.

Dean startles at the sudden thump next to him. Cas is so close that their thighs are touching, and not that he exactly minds, but it makes the whole 'get a grip, Winchester' thing much harder. He would shift away if he could, but he's already at the farthest corner of the sofa.

Cas opens the textbook at a seemingly random page and glares at it as if intimidating it could solve third-world problems.

Here it goes. He forces a tense smile and finally looks at Dean. He can just lean in and kiss him. He can do it. Yes, absolutely.

"So, what do you know about the causes of World War II?" That went well.

Dean frowns at the question. "Hitler was an asshole?"

Cas relaxes and chuckles. "True. Anything else?"

"Not really."

"That's why you are here, after all."

Cas begins to explain the immediate and secondary causes of World War II, and the initial awkwardness finally dissipates. There's still that little issue at hand, of course. Eventually, Castiel will have to seduce Dean. The question is how. Gabriel might have explained the simplicity of a kiss and how things would flow naturally from that point, yet Cas's stomach still twists in a knot just considering the possibility.

Dean's lips are nice. More than nice, actually. They're plump and a pretty shade of pink. Human beauty still mesmerizes Castiel and Dean's no different. Except he is, at least a little bit. To Castiel, all humans are wonderful, and still, Dean possesses a kind of beauty that Cas never perceived before. His delicate features captivated the angel the first time he's met him. Then he trusted him with his secrets and Cas noticed the other, more important kind of beauty. His soul. So pure, selfless, caring, but already broken.

"Cas?" Dean addresses him, making him realize that he's been staring, which according to Gabriel is inappropriate and 'creepy'.

"Yes?"

"You stopped talking about two minutes ago," Dean smiles. "You might want to take a break."

"That's a marvelous idea," the angel sighs. "Would you fancy a drink now?"

Dean lowers his head and laughs. "Yeah, man, sure."

Castiel prompts him to stand up and leads him to the kitchen. The kitchen looks spotless as if nobody ever used it. Dean is tempted to ask Cas if his parents are one of those OCD freaks like Sammy, but recognizes how close to the personal information territory he'd be digging. The forbidden area of family talk is forbidden for a reason.

Cas hands him a bottle of coke and leans on the counter. Dean settles on the chair dangerously close to Cas in the cramped kitchen only to feel intimidated and so tiny that he stands up again. He shuffles the chair in the perfect position it's been in before, mentally going back to the question if the Novaks even use the kitchen.

"We don't," Castiel replies.

Dean's heart drops to his pants, wondering if he actually spoke his thoughts out loud.

"I can see it on your face, Dean. You've been meaning to ask the reason as to why this house is so sterile."

Dean blinks.

"And why there are only pictures of me and Gabriel around."

Dean opens his mouth to say something, but takes a sip of his coke instead.

Castiel and Gabriel have been working on their cover story for the past two days and finally settled on the typical 'dead mother and absent father' story. When Cas truly pondered it they weren't even lying. Neither of them ever had a mother and God is indeed absent. They added details such as Gabriel taking Cas in his custody as soon as he celebrated his eighteenth birthday and voila: questionable, sad background that Dean would never ever want to talk about was created.

Gabriel specified that Cas shouldn't speak of it unless Dean asks. "Don't scare the kid, he's not the touchy-feely type," he noted. Nonetheless, as soon as Cas's mouth opens the story spills out of his mouth. He adds details that he hadn't discussed with Gabriel. How he's never even met his father and how his name had a religious origin; how he had many more siblings, but they didn't take care of him like Gabriel does; how Gabriel told him that their father is dead, but he believes he's still out there. He pours his heart out, narrating as much as he can without mentioning anything strange that would suggest he's not human.

And Dean listens, yearning for it to stop, because his stomach is turning over, and he feels pity. That one thing he despises getting from other people. He can't comfort Cas. What would he say? He's in the same situation, with his mom gone and his dad barely ever there. The only person in the world who's always there for him is his brother, much like Gabriel is there for Cas.

He didn't want to get emotionally invested. He knew it would end up like this, it always does. You tell people about your life, they tell you about theirs, and then sooner or later you're both hurt.

If you ask Dean, he won't be able to tell you when and how it happens. At some point he gravitates toward Cas and lays his hand on his shoulder.

Castiel touches his vessel's cheek and is surprised to find it wet. He takes a glance at Dean's hand on his shoulder, at his mouth, and then his eyes. Those pools of despair and understanding are what finally pulls him closer to Dean.

Dean stills, but doesn't move away. Castiel takes that as a cue to continue and presses his lips to Dean's. At first, it's soft and experimental. He rests his hands on Dean's hips while Dean's slide on Cas's chest. Dean's mouth opens slightly and Cas's tongue promptly slips in without hesitation. Something warm spreads in his belly when Dean's pliant lips move in sync with his, picking up pace.

Castiel had his expectations. Gabriel assured him that kissing feels nice. However, nothing could prepare Cas for this strange feeling. It feels good—almost too good—and Castiel wouldn't mind if it never stopped.

Dean's tongue presses against his, compelling Cas to fist his hands in Dean's shirt and bring him even closer. Dean's hands roam through Cas's already messy, dark hair. Castiel focuses on everything and nothing at once. Hands, hands, tongue, tongue, bite, hands. He nibbles on Dean's lip, following every gentle bite by a lick or kiss. He wonders where he learned how to do that until Dean corners him against the counter and their bodies flush together. Dean's groin rubs against his (whether accidentally or not is unclear), eliciting a deep moan from Cas.

The sound wakes Dean from the trance he's been in. He parts from Cas and takes a step back, studying the angel's face with wide eyes. He can't believe that he let this happen, yet the evidence is clear on the boy in front of him. Red, swollen lips, wild hair (not that different from its usual state, actually), and pupils blown wide. He's sure if he allowed his eyes to travel south, he'd find Cas's tight jeans tented just like his own. So no, it wasn't only Dean's overactive imagination.

Castiel's a little bit annoyed and very frustrated, wanting nothing more than for the hunter to return to their previous activities. He's never wanted before, but now his vessel's body screams with want, and who is Castiel to deny his vessel the pleasure? He almost throws himself at Dean again, stopping short in his tracks when Dean takes another step away from him. It stings Castiel in a way that he'd rather repress and never experience again.

Dean struggles to breathe. His entire body reprimands him for what he does next; however, he listens to the last reasonable part of his brain that reminds him how badly this will end if he lets it go too far. He could have had so much fun with Cas if he didn't ruin it with his dumb insinuation about his messed up family. Then Cas had to go and make it even worse, confessing to the horrors of being a Novak. Dean isn't allowed to have that kind of a relationship. John gave him this advice years ago and he was right. Sympathy combined with intimacy ended up with feelings, and feelings ended up with heartbreak.

He spins on his heel, grabs his shoes and jacket, and marches out of the house. Ignoring Castiel for the rest of the time in this town will be hard, considering they share a class together, but not impossible. He needs to escape before his stupidity comes back to bite him in the ass.

Castiel supposes he should follow him. Although that's what he wants to do, he can't. This isn't about him or his 'wants.' He's on a mission. Being too close to Dean could bring problems to Heaven, he's been told. He's heard stories about angels falling in love with humans and what happened to them. He won't become one of those. He won't.