Hey guys! I'm back with an update! I'm glad so many of you like this story so far, it really makes me happy! I want to just give a little heads-up though:

*Sure, Sam is with Jess now, but this is a Destiel/Sabriel fanfic, so...

*This chapter is extra fluffy. It's so sweet, it'll rot your teeth.

Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy. RxR!

Chapter 2. Blue eyes wake up to green

He remembered noticing those alluring, deep-blue eyes. His messy hair, that if anything, just made the man sexier. Dean wanted to see more of Cas, since yesterday was not enough time to take everything of him in.

Castiel awoke with a shiver. He is wrapped up in his blanket and his feet are cold. He turns his head and realizes that he forgot to close the window last night. He frowns and reluctantly moves his arm from under the warmth of the blanket, combing his fingers through his hair as he thinks about the tasks he has to do today.

College, work, home. He thinks, throwing the blankets to the side and sitting up in the bed. Cold air instantly hits his body and goosebumps appear on his skin. He finds that his feet ache from the cold. He stand up, walking to the window to shut it and grabs fresh clothes and makes his way to his shower.

As Castiel is washing his hair, he recounts what happened yesterday. When it was storming, and he ran for shelter in a tattoo parlor, met all kinds of new characters, including Dean Winchester.

He felt as though his entire body had warmed instantly. Dean Winchester. The name rolling off his tongue like a hymn from the heavens. But Dean Winchester was no angel, far from it, apparently. Unless there was such a thing as a gorgeous angel that liked classic rock, worked as a mechanic, and drove a '67 Chevy Impala. Castiel smiled despite himself. He even remembered the car.

When he finished his shower and got dressed, Castiel was just about out the door, when he stopped and looked himself over in the mirror. Now, he didn't consider himself a model, but he wasn't ugly either. He hardly ever combed out his hair, stray strands flying this way and that. Today, however, he took the time to carefully smooth it out, trying to make his hair go in one direction.

When he deemed himself presentable, he grabbed his bag and was out the door. This morning was even colder than the last, and Castiel had a tan trench coat on, seeing how it would be warmer.

The yellow-orange leaves were no longer crunchy, and instead lay soaked all over the pavement. Small splashes could be heard as Castiel stepped in puddles. The sky was still gray, and he made certain to bring an umbrella with him this time. If he ran into Dean again and he offered him a ride, he could say no.

He was up to the college within twenty minutes, never stopping as he walked to his first class. There were a few people scattered here and there, but not much. It was pretty early in the morning, after all.

Castiel shifted his bag on his shoulders and began his ascent upstairs to Sociology. He liked that class. It was very interesting. As he was walking, however, he heard a name that made him stop dead in his tracks.

"I already told you Dean, I don't need to be picked up!"

Castiel whipped around, spotting a very tall man leaning against the stair's ramp. He was tapping his foot impatiently and looking cross. Castiel noted to himself how this man had similar features to Dean Winchester. Light, brown hair, same style of clothing...could this be 'Sammy?'

"Jess already said she'd drive me back when it gets dark. I'm in college, Dean, so stop being such a worry-wart!" The man said, hanging up and ending the call.

Castiel felt light-headed. What if that was Dean Winchester? What if this is his brother? What if his brother is in his Sociology class? Castiel quickly turned and made a bee-line to the doors of the classroom, rushing inside.

Castiel was sure he was just imagining it, but he felt a little warm...he wrapped his coat over him a little better. He also felt cold...He hoped he wasn't getting sick.

He then realized that he should probably introduce himself, shouldn't he? But Dean wanted to...then again, it's not like he's planning on seeing Dean again...

The decision was solved by itself however, when the man sat down next to Castiel. Had he always sat there? Castiel never took notice of his surroundings much, not when they weren't interesting or didn't concern him.

The man settled himself down on the desk, looking agitated. Then he noticed Castiel staring at him. "Oh. Hey there." The man said, giving a small smile.

Castiel looked down at his desk, pretending to look through his notes. "Um...hey." He said awkwardly.

A ringtone went off and the man beside Castiel groaned loudly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning it off. He threw the phone into his bag and huffed.

"...Rough morning?" Castiel offered, tilting his head curiously.

The man nodded solemnly. "Yeah...it's just my stupid older brother. He's worried that I won't have a ride home tonight, but I already told him my girlfriend is gonna drive me." He grumbled.

Castiel felt his body tense. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth to ask. "Older brother...?"

"Oh...yeah...my older brother, Dean. My name's Sam by the way, Sam Winchester." Sam held out his hand.

Castiel knew his eyes were wide, that he probably looked a little insane, but he was sitting next to Dean Winchester's brother. How did he not see it before? They do have similar features, but Dean is definitely more beautiful. You just can't beat those forest-green eyes.

He took Sam's hand and shook it politely. "I'm Castiel..." He murmured.

Sam froze for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. Castiel thought he had said something wrong, but instead Sam smiled a little nodding. "Nice to meet you Cas- I mean, Castiel."

"Nice to meet you as well." Castiel answered. Before either of them had the chance to speak again, the professor walked into the classroom, leaving them to their own devices.

~oO0Oo~

Castiel only had two classes today, so as soon as he finished the second, he just wanted to go home and do homework. It was raining, and he was extremely grateful that he had brought his umbrella. As his shoes hit the pavement and puddles, his mind began wandering back to Dean.

Why couldn't he just stop thinking about him? He already told himself that it's just not possible. Once Dean sees his scar, he'll for sure want out. The thought that scares Castiel the most is it being too late and Dean having to live the rest of his life with Castiel's ugly tattoo. He clenched the strap to his bag.

He passed by the corner where the tattoo parlor stood. Castiel only gave it a small glance, merely checking to see if Dean was inside. To his disappointment, he was not. Instead, the man – Ash – was sitting in the front desk, waving to Castiel. He waved back.

When he finally made it to his apartment and kicked off his shoes, he plopped down onto the couch, sighing. He'd go to his bedroom and do his homework later. Right now, he was just a little tired. He shifted his feet slightly, then he heard a crumple. Dean's phone number.

Castiel suddenly sat up, snatching the paper off the floor and examining it. He took out his phone and with shaking fingers, added it to his contacts. He paused and frowned. Why was he saving Dean's number? But he figured that it would be good to have it on hand in case of an emergency. So telling himself that, he tossed the phone aside and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes and drifting to sleep.

~oO0Oo~

He awoke to a headache, one that had the room spinning. His nose was plugged up with snot and he felt like he needed to vomit. Castiel groaned and attempted to sit up from his position on the couch, immediately regretting it as pain in his head surged through him. He laid back down and tried to control his breathing. Okay, this was bad. Castiel couldn't afford to catch a cold this time of the year.

He tried again, fighting the pain until he was sitting up straight. His vision blurred and the room swayed, and he felt ready to puke. Carefully, he pushed himself off of the couch, staggering to the bathroom.

He didn't get very far though, within seconds another surge of pain hit him and he keeled over, holding his head with a groan. He could feel the contents of his stomach rising and he felt extremely cold. Did he remember to close the window this time? Then everything went black.

~oO0Oo~

"This is something that you should tell your partner before you enter in a relationship with them!"

Castiel knew that voice. He hears it every time when he thinks about that day.

"I mean, look at it! It's hideous! I'm ugly! I can't ever have another partner again!"

Castiel didn't want to think about this memory. Stop it.

"I guarantee if you show your next partner that, they'll high-tail it out of there, because no one wants this!"

Stop.

Castiel felt his throat clench, the words slicing him open like a cutlery knife. Meg wasn't always like this. She was kind before. Castiel knew those words were just a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, but they still kill him a little inside each and every time he hears them.

Stop.

"Meg, I didn't mean- I didn't want for this to..." Castiel tried, but realized he couldn't finish his sentence. He had nothing to say, nothing to offer for the poor girl. Castiel cursed himself for being so terrible with words, especially at such an important time.

STOP.

Meg grabbed her suitcase and car keys off the table, glaring at Castiel. "Goodbye Castiel. Thanks for nothing. I'll live my entire life with your ugly ass tattoo." She murmured viciously, shoes clacking on the floor as she marched out of the house.

STOP!

Castiel stood stunned for a moment, until he heard the car doors slamming closed, and ran to catch up with her. "Meg! Meg wait- Meg!"

STOP IT!

Then Castiel's eyes shot open. Was he shouting Meg's name in his sleep? He realized he was under a pile of blankets in his bedroom, a damp rag resting on his head. He turned his head a little and saw a glass of water, some pills and a box of tissues on the bedside table. How peculiar...

Then he heard footsteps coming to his bedroom. He wondered who it was? It couldn't be anyone from his family...no one would visit him...

So he feigned sleep, closing his eyes just before the stranger came in through the door. Castiel could tell the stranger was trying to be quiet, their steps gentle as they crossed the room and stopped beside him. Then the smell of chicken noodle soup hit him.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and they widened when he saw Dean's face above him. Oh god...

He jerked away immediately, his head still feeling awful. "W-what are you-?" Castiel began, looking at Dean with wide eyes.

Dean looked shrugged, sitting down on the bed with the soup still in his hands. "I came over since you never called or came by, and your curtains were open. I looked inside and you were laying on the ground. So, I picked the lock and carried you up here, tucked you in, and made you a bowl of chicken noodle soup." Dean explained easily, holding up the bowl.

Castiel's stomach growled, and he fidgeted nervously. "...You...you broke into my apartment?" He deadpanned. His nose was still full of snot, so he grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and blew his nose.

Dean chuckled, reaching over and taking the rag that fell from Castiel's forehead. "Well, when you put it like that...But! I did it to save you! Seriously dude, you were soaking in your own sweat, despite shivering uncontrollably. That, and there was a puddle of vomit next to you. Of course I'm gonna break in to help you." Dean rolls his eyes, then looks down at the bowl in his hands. "...Sit up. I don't often make soup for other people other than my little brother, but I decided to make an exception for you."

Castiel smiled weakly, forcing himself to sit up in the bed. As he was busy pushing himself up, Dean hurriedly grabbed a pillow and placed it behind his back on the headboard. Castiel looked at him questioningly. "You're already sick, no use hurting your back too." Dean shrugged.

Dean handed him the bowl of soup, carefully placing it on Castiel's lap. "I already cooled it for you, so it should be good to go." Dean said, smiling.

"I never thought a guy who jams to classic rock and works as a mechanic would be such a softy..." Castiel mumbled as he shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

Dean actually laughed. He threw his head back, a huge grin on his face. "Hah! Never thought I'd meet a good, hard-working and independent college student such as yourself in a tattoo parlor."

"It was raining." Castiel replied.

"There were other buildings you could have run into." Dean pointed out. "Not that I mind that you ended up in Ellen's shop. Matter of fact, I'm super glad we met."

Castiel continued to eat his soup, looking away from Dean and feeling embarrassed. Dean continued. "...Say, Cas?" Dean asked, and Castiel felt his body warm with the nickname more than the soup could ever hope to achieve.

"Y-yes...?" Castiel stammered, placing the spoon down.

Dean ran his fingers through his hair, biting his lip. Wow. Castiel found the action to be highly attractive.

Spoon! Soup...bowl-

He looked away, staring at the bowl of soup in his lap. He could feel his face warming, and he wondered if Dean could tell he was blushing.

"Do you want to...you know? Go...on a date sometime?" Dean asked hopefully.

Castiel turned to Dean, feeling at a loss for words. This man, this gorgeous, beautiful man... was asking Castiel out on a date? They barely met! Castiel clutched the bowl of soup in hands and realized with a sinking feeling, that he just couldn't bring himself to say yes.

"I can't, Dean..." Castiel said, a hint of hurt in his words.

Dean's face fell a little, and he dropped his gaze to his hands that were resting on his lap. "Oh...I see..." Dean murmured disappointedly.

"I-it's not that I don't want to-" Castiel began. "It's just- I'm... I just can't..." Castiel dropped his head back against the headboard, defeated.

Dean looked at him with interest. "You're...what? And don't tell me you're straight, because I know for a fact that you're not!" He snapped, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

Castiel let out a breathless laugh. "No, I have no preference for gender...it's just..." He trailed off, unsure.

Dean moved closer, looking conflicted. "Cas, whatever it is, please just tell me. I need to know if there's any chance, and if I can help." Dean offered, placing his hand on Castiel's.

"Dean, I don't think- It's just..." Castiel sighed, hanging his head. There really was no other choice. Dean did all of this for him, and it would be extremely cruel of him to just say no. Besides, it wasn't like Dean was asking him to be his boyfriend or anything. It was just a date. "...I-I'll go." He murmured.

"Cas, I don't wanna force you to-"

"I said I'll go, and I want to go." Castiel said, looking at Dean fiercely. "It's only a date. Nothing more." He told more to himself than to Dean.

Dean nodded slowly, a small smile on his face. "Cool. How about this Saturday?" Dean asked with that voice Castiel was fond of so much.

No. Nope, no, no and nope. He could not fall for Dean Winchester. This was only a date. Castiel just had to keep repeating that to himself.

"Sounds great." Castiel smiled.

Dean practically beamed, and he stood up from the bed, grabbing the rag. "Awesome. You go back to sleep and get some rest, Cas. I'll re-wet this." Dean said, holding up the rag and taking the finished bowl of soup from Castiel, allowing him to lay down before he left.

Castiel heard Dean whistling 'Highway To Hell' in the hallway, and he closed his eyes, a smile still stuck on his face. Saturday.

~oO0Oo~

Dean finished washing up the dishes in Castiel's apartment, whistling different AC/DC songs. He grabbed the rag and held it under cold water, wringing it until it was damp enough to be placed back on Castiel's forehead. He crossed the small living room, heading back to Castiel's bedroom, when a small dripping noise caught his attention. He strained his hearing, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

He realized the noise was coming from Cas' extra room in the hallway. Well, that was worrisome. Dean doubted Cas had more than one bathroom in his apartment, and a leak coming from an office or a second bedroom could be dangerous or damaging to Cas' belongings. Dean figured it'd be better to ask Cas first before checking it out. He went to Cas' bedroom, damp rag in hand.

"Hey, Cas? I think there might be a leak in your apartment in the-" Dean stopped, realizing Cas was fast asleep. His breathing was quiet and soft, and he was tucked nicely underneath the blankets. Figuring it would be best not to wake him, Dean simply placed the damp rag back on Cas' forehead, running his fingers through Cas' hair.

Man, this guy was gorgeous. Ever since Dean first saw him, he'd been trying to keep his cool. Dean recalled yesterday, when he saw Cas and had to just look out the window for a moment before he said something stupid. He remembered noticing those alluring, deep-blue eyes. His messy hair, that if anything, just made the man sexier. Dean wanted to see more of Cas, since yesterday was not enough time to take everything of him in.

When Dean found Cas laying on the floor in a pool of vomit, Dean had felt his heart stop. He panicked, and fumbled with getting the door open. As soon as he was inside, he quickly checked Cas' temperature and was seriously considering calling the ambulance.

Dean was relieved he settled for just cleaning Cas up and taking him to his bed. Not only did Cas' fever go down, but Dean had an inkling that Cas wouldn't have liked waking up in the hospital.

While Cas was still fast asleep, Dean couldn't help but stare. The man truly was something to ogle at.

Dean sighed in bliss, relishing at the thought that he and this gorgeous man had a date set up this Saturday.

Then he realized that he could not be caught smiling creepily down at Cas while he's sleeping. That would not only freak the hell out of Cas, but also make Dean look like some sort of gross pervert. He walked out of the bedroom, deciding that now would be a good of a time as any to check what the dripping noise was. Castiel shouldn't mind too much...right?

Dean opened the door to the room, looking inside. He had expected it to be an office of some sort, or maybe even a second bedroom, but he was far from the reality.

Paintings scattered all over the room, stacks piled onto the floors, some leaned against one another, some laying abandoned on the floor...

Holy crap...Cas was an artist...

Dean stepped inside, looking at his surroundings in awe. Cas had paintings of still life, abstract, even portraits of people he didn't recognize. He found the source for the dripping noise. One of the containers of water used to wash the brushes had fallen sideways on the desk. Dean examined around it, feeling relieved that there seemed to be no puddles. Cas must've dumped the water. But the container was still dripping, the water was hitting a plastic palette that lay beneath it. Dean placed the container back and felt a cold breeze. The window was open. Well, no wonder Cas is sick.

Dean shook his head, crossing the room over to the window and closing it. When he was sure the window was sealed shut, he looked around the room again. Cas said he was thinking of becoming a doctor, but he was such a good painter. Dean thought for a moment, then it hit him. He knew exactly where to take Cas for their date this Saturday. Now was time to start planning.