Howdy!

Back with a second... chapter? I guess.

A lot of you followed this story, so I can only assume you're expecting a second chapter...

Enjoy, I guess. Also it's pretty fluffy...

:)

"Cas? -Castiel?" Dean corrected, sitting up just to rest back against the unfamiliar bed's frame.

He could practically hear the smile as the other responded. "Yes, Dean, it's Cas."

They both sat in silence on the phone, not sure of what to say. Dean was nervous Castiel would never call, and the other was worried Dean wouldn't pick up. Castiel cleared his throat, and Dean rubbed the back of his neck, the silence almost becoming too much.

"So," Castiel finally broke in, his deep voice causing Dean to startle, hissing out a few slurs, which in turn cause the dark-haired man to laugh. "This isn't quite going how I hoped."

"You're telling me," Dean responded, situating himself back into a comfortable position. "It's a bit weird. No one ever really calls me."

"Oh." Dean could practically hear the change in Castiel's expression, from content to disappointed and embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I mean, you wrote your number down, and I thought you wanted me to call, and I apologize for misinterpreting your intentions. I'll just ha-"

"Cas what the fuck are you going on about?"

Castiel gaped on the other end of the line, fingers twirling in the cuff of his pants. "I'm lost."

Dean chuckled, which caused Castiel's eyebrows to knit together in confusion. "Cas, I didn't mean I didn't want you to call. I just meant that nobody ever really does. It's not a bad thing, it's great actually."

Castiel let out a breath of a laugh, his face relaxing. "So it was just… unexpected?"

"Unexpected, yeah."

Another silence fell over them, though it wasn't quite as awkward as before, yet it made Dean uncomfortable. He'd never been able to deal with silences or phone calls, and he was currently in the midst of both. He cleared his throat. "So, what do you say we go out for coffee?"

Castiel's eyes widened. "N-Now?"

Dean shrugged before realizing Castiel couldn't see him. "Sure, why not?"

Castiel gaped. "It's… It's nearly midnight…"

"And?"

"And?" Castiel shook his head. "And as in I just called to let you know I was interested, and see if we could set something up. And also I'm in my pyjamas."

Dean laughed, eyes crinkling as he set his phone down on the bed to cover his mouth, trying not to make Castiel feel bad. "Pyjamas? Who cares! Come meet me in your pyjamas."

"In my pyjamas? Are you serious?"

Dean shrugged, and once again realized Castiel couldn't see him. He mentally slapped himself. "Yeah, what the hell?"

Castiel was quiet for a moment. "… Will you be in your pyjamas?"

"I'm not sure showing up to a coffee shop nude is exactly legal." Castiel choked, and Dean laughed. "I'm sure I could find something to throw on. So, Cas, whaddaya say?"

Castiel bit his tongue as he thought, and Dean worried his lip as he waited. "Sure," he responded after a moment. "I have the name of a shop that's open this late. Think you could be there in 15?"

Castiel found himself perched in his favorite corner booth 15 minutes later, legs tucked up onto the worn leather beneath him, the old seats now looking more dull orange than their original red, but they were comfortable, so he wasn't about to complain.

He had a simple drink in front of him, placed there just moments before a ding front the front of the shop caught his attention.

Dean had just walked in. He had the same leather jacket on as before, and the sunglasses that had previously been hooked on his shirt were now covering his eyes, but now a white t-shirt with a torn collar clung to his body, clearly old, and his legs were graced by a pair of black, slightly baggy cotton pyjama bottoms that appeared to be decorated with… was that occult paraphernalia?

Castiel made a face, but quickly dropped it. His weren't much better. He had a plain, navy t-shirt on, similar in state to Dean's, though his bottoms were fuzzy and warm, similar enough in color to his shirt to not draw attention, though he supposed the embroidery-style angels and snowflakes decorating them made his choice of clothing much more ridiculous.

Dean took notice of him after a few moments, and sent a warm smile his way. Noticing the drink already in front of Castiel, he stepped up to the counter and ordered one for himself before retreating toward the back, plopping himself down across from the dark-haired man, removing his glasses.

Castiel's eyes grew wide almost immediately. "You're Dean Winchester."

Dean huffed out a laugh. "Very good, Cas."

Castiel continued to stare at him, blue eyes ridiculously wide, and Dean furrowed his brows, a bit from the freaking creepy blue color the other's eyes were, but mostly out of confusion. He reached out and touched Castiel's hand, causing the other to snap out of whatever trance he had fallen into, though his eyes still remained almost comically large.

"You're Dean Winchester? The Dean Winchester?"

Dean laughed, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah. Did you not know? I was sorta writing on your arm for over an hour."

"Yes, you were, but I didn't exactly get to look at your face. And it was dark…ish."

Dean chuckled quietly. "This isn't making you uncomfortable, is it?

Castiel shook his head rapidly from side to side, eyes growing wide once again. And they had finally settled back down. Dean bit his lip. this guy was kinda weird. "No, no, Dean. It's just…"

"Unexpected?"

"Unexpected."

Dean's drink was handed to him a minute later, and the two of them sat in slightly strained silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable.

"So what's with the-" Castiel whirled his finger in a circle, pointing down at Dean's legs, much more relaxed with some caffeine in his system. "-The occult stuff."

Dean shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. "My baby brother, Sammy, was really into that shit. Demons, gods, creepy shit- the shebang. He had this huge collection of stuff that he collected over the years, but he eventually grew bored with it. He packed all of his newer and more valuable stuff into boxes, and threw the rest out. He grew to the size of a giant, and when he was rifling through his boxes before he moved out, he saw these. Naturally, they were just a bit big, but he pretty much demanded I take them, and you try to resist his puppy eyes." Dean tried to mimic Sam the best he could, though fell short, causing Castiel to laugh. "I know he's gonna ask about these someday, so I usually just keep 'em in a drawer. You gave me an excuse to use them."

"Well they certainly do look good on you," Castiel commented, quickly picking up his drink to cover his embarrassment from what he'd just said. He didn't want to sound like a fangirl. Or boy. fanboy?

"Not as good as you look in yours," Dean spoke, snapping Castiel out of his thoughts, causing his cheeks to flush. "What's with the angels, though?" Dean questioned, leaning and reaching forward to touch Castiel's knee, where a set of wings were resting.

"I just thought they were cool," Castiel murmured, taking another gulp of his drink, hiding his face behind the gigantic cup. Why was he acting like this? he touched his knee, not his dick. He had a fucking grip on his arm yesterday! Why was this so different?

Dean just grinned, oblivious to Castiel's internal struggle. "It suits you."

"Thank you."

The conversation flew easily after that, the two of them chatting about what exactly had brought them to go see that movie. Both had been hiding; Dean from fangirls, and Castiel from an ex.

Hours passed easily, and soon the barista was informing them it was closing time, and the pair reluctantly got up, stepping out into the mild cold.

"Let me walk you home?" Dean asked, turning to a slightly shivering Castiel. He nodded and they set off down the street, opposite of Dean's hotel. The blue-eyed man was still shivering, and Dean would be lying if he didn't admit to moving closer to him with every step, until their arms were brushing.

Dean took a risk, and twined his fingers with Castiel's. The other didn't do much aside from adjust his fingers, and neither could help but notice that the hands linked together were bother covered in mildly blurred black ink. They both tried to hide a smile as they continued down the street.

It all would've gone down fine, really, if it hadn't rained earlier that day. A careless car was speeding down the road, failing to notice the large puddle and the two men walking along the side of it. Dean noticed, however, and quickly let go of Castiel's hand, wrapping his arms around his waist to pull him away from the edge of the sidewalk.

Thank god for Dean. Castiel was still relatively dry, except for his t-shirt, which was completely soaked on one side, and he was currently wrapped in the arms of a slightly bigger, nice smelling, and very warm man. One of them had to end soon though, and it certainly wasn't going to be his shirt at this temperature.

Dean had pulled him back to the edge of the nearest building, slightly inside the alley beside it.

"You didn't get hit with rocks or anything?" Dean questioned, hands sliding down Castiel's arms in almost ridiculous concern, causing Castiel to laugh.

"No Dean, I'm fine. Just wet."

Dean frowned, stepping back to look at Castiel's shirt before looking up at him, locking their eyes. "Take off your shirt."

Castiel's mouth fell open in disbelief, making unintelligible noises while he tried to find his words. "What kind of guy do you think I am? I know you're famous, but that doesn't give you a free pass into my pants, especially not out in public!"

Dean stared dumbstruck, lips parted and mouth open. "I… What? No. Cas, just… take off your shirt."

"No."

"Cas-"

"No! I'm not a…a first date fucker! Are you-"

Dean grew impatient and just slipped off his jacket, grabbing it in one hand as he stepped forward to cover Castiel's mouth. "Take off your shirt, and put this on." He waved the jacket to emphasize his point.

Castiel stood frozen for a moment, focusing on the warm, rough hand covering his mouth, laying flat against his pouted lips, and the calloused, guitar-playing fingers resting against his slightly stubbly cheek. Dean seemed to notice Castiel's distraction, sliding his hand away gently, causing Castiel to sigh. "O-okay."

He pressed himself farther back into the cement wall behind him, and wiggled his shirt up and over his shoulders, unaware of the curious green eyes roaming his abdomen. Dean's eye's snapped back to Castiel's once the shirt was off, and he held out his hands, taking the wet shirt in one, and handing over his jacket from the other.

He'd be lying if he denied checking out the other once again.

"Thank you," Castiel said as he finished zipping up the jacket. The sleeves were just a bit too long for him, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Of course," Dean replied with a grin, holding his hand out for Castiel to take again.

The walked in relative silence back to Castiel's building after that, and Dean followed him straight to his apartment. They both paused outside of the door, neither willing to let go of their interlocked fingers. Castiel was the first to break the silence.

"This was really nice."

Dean smiled back. "It was, really."

Silence again.

"I… I assume you're here on tour? Just a stop, right?"

Dean rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Yeah. I asked to stay here for my break. I've got about… 2 weeks before I kick off again."

"2 weeks is enough time to meet again."

They both grinned. "It sure is," Dean agreed.

They fell quiet.

"I should probably go change, get this back to you," Castiel commented, tugging on the jacket.

Dean shook his head, reaching forward to grab Castiel's other hand, causing the smaller to flush. "You'll see me again, right? Just consider this insurance on that offer."

Castiel smiled, looking down at their hands. He spoke a moment later. "I'll call you, alright?"

Dean nodded, and stepped back, his hands sliding out of Castiel's. "I sure hope so." He turned to walk back the way he'd come. He paused halfway down the hall. "Goodnight, Cas."

Castiel smiled. "Goodnight, Dean."

Dean nodded, and turned, leaving. Castiel didn't step inside his apartment until Dean was out of sight, and when he did, he quickly made his way to his room, flopping down on the bed. He didn't bother to remove the jacket, only his shoes, and he curled up, the dark leather and Dean's cologne surrounding him as he fell asleep, wishing that for once, he'd kissed on the first date.

So I didn't really make it super clear earlier, but Dean's a famous musician... That'll be addressed more if I write more, but I'm not going to waste my time on something nobody really likes, so let me know what you think!

This is also un-beta'd, so all mistakes are on me.

I hope you enjoyed

:)