Dean and Castiel reached an unspoken agreement not to talk about what happened.

It was still arguably the greatest moment of Castiel's entire existence, even better than the dress rehearsal a week later where he got to watch Dean dance and sing in full costume, but that kiss was an isolated moment, that was it. They'd been drinking. A little. And everybody else in the group had done things just as bad. It was all part of the game, right? Right?

But Cas couldn't get it out of his head. And he didn't see any reason Dean might have to keep kissing him after the thirty seconds were over. Maybe he just forgot who he was kissing?

Castiel hadn't been able to sleep a wink that night. After the game, they turned on a movie. The rest of the group was asleep within minutes- even Dean. But Cas just lay there, all night, staring at the ceiling. He'd been terrified the kiss would change things between him and Dean.

Weirdly enough, he was wrong.

Granted, Castiel had been in a state of perpetual anxiety (more so than usual) around Dean since the party, and Dean had stopped the casual touches he used to adorn Cas with, but other than that, everything between them went right back to normal.

So on one hand, it didn't seem like anything changed, but on the other hand, he'd kissed Dean. Of course everything was different.

Castiel just wished he knew what was going on.

Opening night finally arrived. It was a Friday night in early March, and unfortunately, one of the longest winters in several years. So everything was still snowy and cold, not exactly ideal for a spring musical.

"Has anyone seen Dean?" Cas asked frantically, barging into the boys' dressing room.

Garth squeaked and held up a shirt to cover his bare torso, relaxing when he saw it was just Cas. "You don't know where he is?"

"No," Cas groaned, running his hands through his hair. At least being stage manager meant no audience would see the mess he'd made of his unruly locks. "It's twenty minutes till the doors open, and Charlie needs to test Dean's microphone before then, but no one knows where he is. He was here, his costume is gone, but I can't find him. I've looked everywhere."

"Oh," Chuck said, straightening up from tying his Converse. Unsurprisingly, Chuck and Garth dressed as greasers didn't exactly have the same effect on Cas as Dean did. "He got a phone call or something, then he said he was going to go outside. Maybe to smoke a cigarette or something?"

"Are you mixing up Dean with Danny again, Chuck?" Cas sighed, addressing the scatterbrained junior. "Dean doesn't smoke."

"Maybe he didn't say the last part, then." Chuck shrugged.

"Outside?" Cas asked skeptically.

"Outside."

"If he's not there, I'm coming for you," Cas said, pointing at Chuck. Before Chuck could respond, Cas was out the door.

.

Cas was shocked to actually find Dean outside.

Dean turned when the door opened, giving Cas a small smile. "Look at you, all 'Mr. Official-Stage-Manager-y.'" He nodded at Cas' getup—the big headset around his neck, the entirely black outfit. Dean smiled at the two black lines Charlie painted under Castiel's eyes.

"Stage fright?" Cas asked, approaching Dean.

He frowned up at the sky. Light flakes of snow were falling from the dusky blue haze, already catching and collecting on the grass and the edge of the sidewalk. He turned to look at Dean, taking in the sight of his best friend.

Dean was in costume, hair greased back and everything. It wasn't his clothing that Cas was looking at, though. It was the tension between Dean's shoulders, the way his arms were wrapped tightly around his torso, the way he was chewing nervously on his bottom lip and watching Cas with wide eyes.

"Not exactly."

"What's wrong?" Cas asked.

"Dad's coming tonight, apparently."

Castiel's eye brows shot up. He and Dean had been best friends since sixth grade, and he could count on both hands the number of times he'd met John Winchester.

"Yeah," Dean muttered darkly at Cas' surprised expression, "He's never been to anything of mine. Wait, no- he went to one baseball game freshman year, but he left halfway through because he got a call from work. He missed me score a home run," Dean said, shaking his head. "So why the hell does he have to come now? Just when I get used to not expecting him, the bastard has to show up and throw me for a loop..."

Cas pulled Dean into an unexpected hug. Dean hugged him back immediately, burying his face in Castiel's neck.

"Who gives a fuck if he's here or not?" Cas asked when he pulled away. Dean's mouth fell open. "You're not performing for him. You're performing for yourself."

"And for at least five hundred people," Dean mumbled.

"And for me," Cas said, reaching out and taking Dean's hand.

Dean met his eyes, giving him a more genuine smile. "You and your greaser fetish."

Cas laughed, letting go of Dean's hand to hit him on the arm.

"It's okay, man. After all, you know all about my doctor fetish."

Cas tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. "What?"

Dean shrugged, "What can I say? I just have a thing for sexy doctors in cowboy boots."

"Doctor Sexy? But I thought you were-?"

"What, you think I watch the show for the plot? You're kidding, right?"

"I did think it was a rather strange lapse in judgment," Cas said, a huge smile lighting up his face. Dean smiled back, worries forgotten. "You're going to do great, Dean. Don't worry about your Dad."

"Okay," Dean whispered. A large snowflake landed on his cheek, and Cas reached up and wiped it away with his thumb without thinking. Dean laughed breathily. "Could you be any cheesier, dude?"

"Yes," Cas answered seriously. Like he'd hoped, it drew another laugh out of Dean. "Charlie needs to test your microphone before the doors open," he said, remembering why he went looking for Dean in the first place.

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. "Way to ruin the moment, Cas."

"We were having a moment?" Cas asked, lips quirking up into a smile.

"Shut up," Dean grinned, bumping Cas' shoulder with his own.

Thankfully, it was getting just a little too dark for Dean to see Castiel's blush. "Get inside, Winchester," he scolded, trying to look severe. Dean just laughed at him. When he made no attempt to move, Cas rolled his eyes and started toward the door, knowing Dean would follow in his own time.

"No good luck kiss, then?" Dean mumbled behind him.

Cas froze, turning back to face Dean.

Dean's eyes widened. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he stuttered.

Cas studied Dean's face, carefully keeping his own blank while the snow started falling heavier around them. Dean clearly grew more terrified by the second. "I didn't—"

"Shut up, Dean," Cas growled. Before he could change his mind, he closed the distance between them and pulled Dean into a kiss. To draw them closer, Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's neck.

Dean squeaked, wrapping his arms around Castiel's waist and returning the kiss.

Shortly after it started, Cas pulled away. "Break a leg," he breathed against Dean's lips.

With that, he untangled himself from Dean's arms and started heading back toward the door.

"Wait!" Dean called, running after him. He caught Cas' arm and pulled the stage manager back to him. "Tease," he growled. He twisted one hand into Cas' hair and placed the other one firmly at the small of his back, effectively trapping Cas against his body.

"Dean," Cas chuckled, "Fifteen minutes till the doors open. Go get your microphone tested."

"Then more of this?" Dean asked, kissing a line down Castiel's neck.

"Of course. If that's what you want."

"Damn right it is," Dean growled. "Jesus, Cas. This is what I've wanted since seventh fucking grade."

"Good," Cas said, giving Dean a light kiss.

"You better be there when Charlie's done with me," Dean threatened, grabbing Cas' hand and dragging him toward the door.

"Metatron might have work for me," Cas admitted, "but I'll come find you," Cas beamed up at Dean, their hands still entwined.

Dean hummed, pulling Cas in for another quick kiss before heading into the auditorium. He paused with his hand on the door and turned back to Cas. "Hey, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Wanna go out with me after the show?"

"Like a date?"

"Or we could study," Dean suggested, grin growing even wider.

Cas laughed. "Okay."

"Cas?"

"What, Dean?"

Dean laughed. "I was just gonna say, you and me? We go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong."

"Oh my God," Cas groaned, slapping a hand over his face. "Go find Charlie, Dean."

Dean gave him a grin and a salute. "Yes, sir."

.

.

A/N: Oh my gosh I know that ending was incredibly cheesy, but I just couldn't not, you know? Well, that's it! I hope y'all liked it! This was a prompt, so if you guys have one you wanna give me, shoot me a message! Or send me an ask on tumblr, my url is emmarowene-fandom-queen! (And follow too, yes?)