The next few weeks went by in a bit of a blur. It felt as if someone had pressed the fast-forward button on Cas' life, occasionally pressing play to draw out certain scenarios. Each elongated scene played contained Dean and the entire tape of Castiel's life after the kiss featured him as the main character.

He was all Castiel could think of when he wasn't actually with Dean, which wasn't very often.

After Dean had found Cas, that fateful day, they didn't really talk about what had happened to Castiel. Cas didn't know if it was because Dean wanted to pretend he was fine, just like everyone else had deluded themselves into thinking, or if Dean just didn't know when or how to broach the subject of recreational drugs. Either way, Cas was appreciative, because it meant no one would be stopping his self-destructive behaviour anytime soon.

What did end up happening that day was Dean walking Cas into his home where they watched a movie until Dean had to go home to make dinner for Sam.

"I'll pick you up for school tomorrow morning?" Dean had asked, about to walk out the door.

"If it's okay with you, I think I'd much prefer meeting you at your house," Cas replied, not wanting to let an opportunity for exercise pass him by.

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I am, thank you."

Dean hovered over the threshold, then, looking uncertain, gaze wandering across Castiel's face, landing on his lips.

Cas shivered in anticipation for the upcoming kiss only to be slightly disappointed when sturdy arms pulled him into a hug instead.

"Bye." Dean murmured.

"Goodbye, Dean." Castiel sighed sadly as Dean extracted his arms from Cas' cold, emaciated body.

The next day, Castiel had met the Winchesters at their house, as he had promised. He spent the walk smoking in lieu of eating, just so he felt full somewhere, even if that somewhere was his lungs, which were more appropriately thought of as two dirty ashtrays.

When he was stood outside the Winchester's he tossed the cigarette butt to the side of the street and walked up to the front door, knocking twice.

Sam opened the door, beaming and offered him some breakfast to which Castiel declined, claiming he had already eaten before he had left home.

When Dean greeted Cas, Cas had hope for at least a kiss on the cheek, but instead he got a grin and a clap on his back.

Every day was the same. A smoke and walk to Dean's, a smile hello, a ride to school, morning classes where Dean sat next to him in the class they shared, lunch in his usual spot including Dean, afternoon classes, meeting up at the Impala, then returning to Dean's house where he stayed until dinner, a smile goodbye, a smoke and walk home, where he'd then retreat to his room to sleep.

Being with Dean wasn't exactly what Castiel had thought it would be like. He'd thought that after he confessed his feelings, there would be some sort of acknowledgement that they were more than just friends, and kisses. Castiel thought there would be at least some kisses, perhaps when they were left alone in Dean's room.

Instead they just chatted about nothing of import and watched sci-fi television series and movies. It was nice, sending time with Dean, but it was just as if they were friends, like the time at the pond hadn't happened.

Castiel would dream of that kiss only to wake up miserable and confused. Dean had said he wanted Castiel, but it seemed as if Dean had changed his mind. Castiel didn't blame him; there was nothing to want from Castiel, he was just a broken mass of charred bones and blood.

Lots of blood.

Castiel made at least one cut every day, most of them were chastisements for wasting Dean's time, and not being worthy of the pleasant companionship Dean presented him with. Others were to do with how ugly, stupid, fat, and annoying he thought he was. It wasn't much of a wonder why Dean seemed to lack any sexual or romantic feelings for Castiel, which only hurt more as he realised he was falling hopelessly in love with Dean.

Each day was torturous, having to pretend he was just fine being friends, when all he wanted was to pin Dean to the wall and make him beg for Castiel's touch, but Cas was good at masking his emotions, so he donned his neutral expression and went on with his daily routines.

He was worried, Dean would one day notice what a mess he was behind that mask, but he realised that Dean didn't care a week and a half into their friendship.

Castiel had been trying to hide the fact that he smoked. Cigarettes were his lunch, but since Dean had started to join him, Castiel had taken to leaving class five minutes early, telling his teacher it was for various appointments, so he could race to his lunch spot and get in at least one smoke.

It was a Thursday when Dean found out. Castiel had only been smoking for one minute when he heard Dean approaching.

Castiel immediately dropped his cigarette, stomping on it, but he had been too slow. Dean had seen.

"Those things'll kill ya, y'know," Dean said nonchalantly, pulling out his lunch.

Castiel just stared, wide eyed, waiting to be reprimanded.

"You already ate?" Dean asked as he bit into a sandwich.

"Yes." Castiel lied.

"Cool," was all Dean said before launching into a story about something silly Sam had done.

From then on, Castiel would leave his class when the bell rang for lunch, letting Dean see him smoke just to see what Dean would do or say.

To Castiel's dissapointment, Dean acted as if it was no big deal, just accepting it as if he didn't care either way.

This lead to more self-destructive behaviour and drugs, to numb the pain of Dean's indifference.

At the end of the third week, Castiel forwent the ride from school with Dean, opting to take a very long walk to his little pond, his sanctuary.

He sat down by the water and cried. He looked at all his scars, the ones on his wrists, the newly scabbed, the old and faded, the ones on his stomach. The word 'FAT' was still there a stark contrast of dark red compared to his pale, sallow skin. He ran his fingers over the ridges of the letters, enjoying the way they felt, in his intoxicated state.

Castiel found himself talking to the few little animals who ventured near him talking about the beauties of the world, including Dean. Castiel spoke about how everything and everyone was connected in some sort of wondrous way.

"So, in this way," Castiel explained to a bee pollinating a flower next to him, "We're each a fragment of total perception—just, uh, one compartment in that dragonfly eye of group mind."

A twig snapped a few feet away from him, distracting him from his speech. Castiel turned to see what made the noise and was startled by the sight of Dean.

Cas was simultaneously ecstatic and upset that Dean had shown up, so when he greeted Dean by his name, it started out overly loud before trailing off to a whisper.

Dean just chuckled, "Hey, Cas. Thought I'd find you here," and sat himself down next to Cas.

The two of them kept eye contact, Cas getting completely lost in those green orbs.

"Woah," Castiel accidentally murmured.

"What?" Dean inquired.

"You…are very beautiful," Castiel was so high he had no inhibitions, no filter from brain to mouth.

Dean just snorted and shook his head.

Castiel was confused by his reaction, until something finally clicked in his mind. Dean didn't think he was anything special, Dean seemed to hate himself, just as Castiel hated himself.

Cas felt very sorrowful. Dean's hard life must have somehow obscured how much worth Dean carried within himself. Castiel knew Dean had no one to take care of him since his mother died, but that alone shouldn't have created the self-hatred that resided heavily in Dean's mind. Something or, more likely, someone had triggered Dean and Castiel wanted to punch whoever had reinforced Dean's false sense of ineptitude.

"Who did this to you?" Castiel couldn't help asking.

Dean just frown slightly, confused as to what Castiel was talking about.

"Interesting," Castiel mused over the new information he had received from merely observing Dean.

"Oh, yeah, it's friggin' fascinating," Dean humoured Cas, " Now. Why don't you strap on your angel wings and fly us back to my place?"

Castiel cocked his head to the left, squinting his eyes, "I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but I'm sorry, no dice," Castiel replied, trailing off into a fit of giggles.

Dean looked at Cas then, really looked, and his eyes widened slightly "What, are you stoned?" Dean seemed somewhat appalled.

Castiel felt smug. Dean was finally paying proper attention to the obvious, "Uh, generally, yeah." Castiel snorted with amusement.

"What happened to you?" Dean's worry and sadness seemed to echo around them, sinking deeply into Castiel, like one of his razor blades, immediately cutting off his laughter.

"Life," was Castiel's only reply.


There was something off about Castiel. Dean knew he was a little odd from the time he caught him crying in the boys' toilets, but he'd never thought too much on the matter. He figured Cas was fine, maybe just a little bullied by Crowley, but considering that, Cas was very kind and rather fun to be around.

He'd never thought he'd end up finding Cas passed out from drugs in the middle of nowhere, and he never expected Castiel to want him back.

That's why Dean had only remained on friendly terms with Cas. When they'd kissed, the other boy had seemed distraught and confused. He'd taken God knows how many pills and he wasn't thinking properly.

Dean had preyed on him, just as Crowley had, and Dean was disgusted with himself. Even though the memory of that kiss made him fill with hope and joy, it was sullied by the circumstances.

It was torture not touching Cas the way he wanted to, but he swore to himself he wouldn't make any sort of advances unless Castiel asked him to.

Unfortunately, Cas hadn't even thought of making a move, as far as Dean was concerned. So, more and more nights, Dean found himself accompanied by alcohol.

Sam was worried. Dean knew that, but he couldn't help it. He just cared about Cas so deeply and Cas seemed almost indifferent to Dean.

When they'd sit on Dean's bed to watch Star Wars, Castiel always left enough room so that no part of them touched. It stung. It really did, but Dean wasn't going to go cry about it to Sam or Cas. He'd grown up keeping ridiculous feelings to himself and he planned on keeping it that way.

As the days passed, Castiel seemed to be more and more distant and Dean didn't know why. The day Dean had caught him smoking, he'd almost lost it. His beautiful Cas was hurting himself, but of course Cas wasn't his so it wasn't really his business.

Dean desperately wanted to talk about the drugs and the smoking and the way Cas seemed to be getting thinner and thinner, but he felt like his friendship with Cas was dangling by a thread. Anything he said could snap that thread and send him reeling into a dark pit of despair. He didn't want to try to tell Cas what to do or scare him off with his unwelcome possessiveness, so he stayed quiet and watched his friend get worse and worse.

Dean felt helpless and scared. He distanced himself from his friends and his brother and became an alcoholic being obsessed with a sad blue eyed boy. It was easier that way, that way he wouldn't be dragging anyone else down with him.

When Cas didn't show up at the Impala the end of that third week, Dean finally lost it.

"I saw him walking. Didn't he tell you he'd be walking home?" Sam asked, while Dean waited for Cas.

"No," Dean breathed heavily.

"But you two are practically joined at the hip. Don't you, like, talk about everything?" Sam was looking up at him with his giant puppy dog eyes.

"No," Dean repeated, getting into his car and shutting the door with a sense of finality, trying to tell Sam to drop it.

"What did you do, then, Dean?" Sam bitched at him.

"Fuck off, Sam. Nothing! I did fucking nothing! Or I did something fucking terrible. Either way, it's none of your damn business!" Dean cursed, racing out of the school parking lot.

The ride home was tense and silent. Sam wanted to ask more questions or yell at Dean some more, Dean wasn't sure, but thankfully he knew better than to badger his older brother when he was in such a mood as he was at that moment.

Dean was stewing in his rage. He'd finally done it. He'd finally pissed Cas off enough to make him never want to see Dean again.

Dean pulled up into their driveway and growled, "Get out," to Sam.

"Dean−" Sam started in a warning tone.

"For fuck's sake, Sam, I said out!" Dean yelled at his brother, making him feel guilty, adding another reason to hate himself on his ever growing list.

Sam grabbed his bag and stormed out of Dean's baby, being a good enough brother to not slam the door, which only made Dean feel worse.

Dean needed some time to himself to gather his thoughts, so he drove around for a little over an hour and a half. When he finally stopped driving he was just outside the main part of his town next to a field which grew into a forest. It took a second, but Dean realised he could probably find Cas and sort all of their shit out.

Dean parked the car in the middle of the field and ran into the forest.

Fifteen minutes later, he found Cas, at the same pond he'd been before, talking nonsense to a friggin' wasp or whatever.

Dean was at a loss with what to do with himself, with Cas, with their situation. He didn't know if he should apologise or ask for an explanation or accuse Cas of being a danger to himself. Before he could figure out a way to approach Cas, he stood on a fucking twig and Cas was looking at him with his large blue eyes. Dean decided he'd let Cas take control of the conversation.

The more Cas spoke, the more Dean felt like crying. How had his angel become so broken? It wasn't fair.

Once Dean realised Cas was high again he just pulled him through the forest, back to the Impala. Castiel was upsettingly compliant, letting Dean lead him by the hand. Dean realised this was how Crowley got away with messing with Cas. Castiel wasn't worried about himself, he'd let anything happen to himself because he didn't care about himself. It made Dean's heart ache painfully as he helped his angel into the front passenger seat of his car.

"Where are we going?" Cas asked as they drove.

"To my place. I don't want your sister seeing you this way." Dean replied curtly.

"She won't notice. If she's home that is, and anyway, I'd probably just go to sleep so she'd never know," Castiel said, boredom coating his words.

"Well, I'd like you to come to my house, that way I know you're safe." Dean explained.

"Why do you care? You don't care about me," Cas said petulantly.

"Fuck. Cas…" Dean bit back a sad sigh. "I do care. So fucking much, but how about we talk about this later, when you're sober."

"Okay," Cas conceded.


Castiel was confused. It was morning and he was lying in Dean's bed fully clothed. His mouth was dry and his body ached.

He looked around sleepily to see where Dean was, but instead found a glass of water on the bedside table. Cas guzzled it down, recalling the previous day.

He'd gotten high, Dean had come for him and brought him to his house where Cas had immediately fallen asleep in Dean's bed. He remembered being embarrassingly open about how attractive he found Dean, but that wasn't too bad.

Castiel got up and stretched, going to look for Dean. The house was completely silent as the early morning light engulfed the house in an orange glow. Castiel tread carefully, trying to avoid any creaky floorboards lest he wake Sam up.

Castiel crept down the stairs, slowly. When he was on the second last step, the wood under him groaned eliciting another groan over on the couch. Cas froze for a moment, unsure of what he'd heard, when a sleepy, "Cas?" was muttered.

Castiel looked over the head of the couch to see Dean sprawled out in an old AC/DC t-shirt and boxers. Dean's blanket was tangled up in his feet, revealing the long, tanned expanse of Dean's thighs and calves. Castiel gulped, averting his vision only to be redirected to a large rip in Dean's shirt, revealing his muscled stomach.

"Good morning, Dean," Castiel breathed as steadily as he could, forcing himself to look into Dean's sleepy eyes.

"How're you feelin'?" Dean asked, sitting up.

"I'm fine, thank you," Castiel replied politely.

There was a long pause in which Dean stretched and Castiel watched as Dean's shirt rode up.

"I hope you slept well on your couch. My apologies for monopolising your bed," Castiel said, blushing.

"Nah, it was no problem, Cas. I've slept on worse than this old thing," Dean made his point by patting the worn cushions.

Castiel nodded in acceptance of Dean's answer, unsure of what else to do.

"So, you were pretty fucked up yesterday. Wanna talk about it?" Dean asked bluntly.

"Not particularly," Castiel responded. He watched as Dean's face went from open kindness and concern, to closed off annoyance. "But, I suppose it would be most beneficial to our friendship if we were to talk," Castiel changed his mind, unable to cope with Dean being upset with him.

"Okay, so let's talk. What happened to you and don't say life because that's too damn vague," Dean moved to make room for Cas to sit next to him.

"Um, Dean? Could we perhaps speak elsewhere?" Castiel inquired shyly.

"Oh, er, yeah, I suppose. Where were you wanting to do this?" Dean yawned.

"The pond." Castiel felt silly, but he felt like he'd be more comfortable there. That's where all the big things in his life had taken place. He wanted this conversation to be another of those 'big things'.

Dean looked a little surprised, "You mean the place I'm always findin' you?"

"Yes," Castiel made sure to sound more certain of his decision so that Dean would feel less inclined to refuse.

"All right, man. Just let me get some breakfast and change. You want anything to eat?"

"No, thank you," Castiel answered without a thought. As Dean walked away, Cas caught a glimpse of Dean's expression of disturbed resignation and knowing, making him feel guilty for refusing the proffered food.

Dean got ready very quickly, and before Castiel knew it they were saying goodbye to a dishevelled looking Sam and getting into the Impala.

Dean drove quickly on the empty morning roads, the rumbling purr of the car a soothing distraction from what was to come of this conversation. It was either going to be the best or worst thing to happen to the boys. Castiel prayed it would all turn out to be okay.

When they got to the pond, they sat on the little dock, dipping their feet in the chilled water. They were both silent and the tension between them was stifling. Unable to cope with Dean's stiffness, Castiel decided to be the one to speak first.

"My mother used to take me here all the time. I thought it was the sea, it seemed so vast when I was younger."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. They sat in a less tense silence until Dean had formed his response properly.

"What happened to her, your mum, I mean."

Castiel looked out over the glittering water before him. "She died. It was an allergic reaction to a general anesthetic. It's quite silly if you think about it. She just went in to the doctors for a routine operation, then she came out in a body bag."

"Man, that's rough," Dean sympathised, laying a hand on Cas' shoulder.

"Rough is a bit of an understatement, Dean. I don't have anyone. I don't have my mother, my father hasn't been home in years, my brother, Gabriel ran away from home when my father was still around, and Anna, she's so busy working to support us that I never get to see her. I'm so alone Dean," Castiel's eyes grew sadder and sadder as he spoke around the lump in his throat.

"Is that why you do drugs? To make the loneliness go away?" Dean's hand tightened its grip on Castiel, anchoring Cas, making him feel less alone.

"I suppose so. Though, who are you to judge? From what I've heard you enjoy the occasional joint," Castiel was more accusatory than he'd meant to be, but he was uncomfortable with this topic of his life. He'd never shared so much in his life.

"Hey, whoa, sure I do. When I'm with my friends and we dim the lights and sync up Wizard of Oz and Dark Side of the Moon, not to run away from my problems!" Dean exclaimed, though a flash of guilt washed over Dean's face.

"Then what is it you do when you don't want to deal with your problems?" Castiel asked in response to that look of guilt.

"That…that's irrelevant. We're talking about you right now, man," Dean rubbed a hand down his face exhaling slowly.

"No, I don't quite think it is irrelevant. Tell me the truth, Dean. If we're to have any form of a relationship, we can't hold anything back. Not now." Castiel threw a pebble into the water, watching it sink in an imitation of his aching heart. He just wanted to get everything out in the open, then see if they could make some sort of romance out of the shambles of both their lives, but Dean was being so secretive about his own life.

The silence between them was screaming in Castiel's ears as he kept his gaze on the spot where his pebble had disappeared.

"My dad," Dean started, making Castiel jump slightly.

"What?" Castiel encouraged Dean to continue, confused when Dean said nothing more.

"My dad," Dean repeated, "he's an alcoholic, and…" Dean let out a shaky breath, "and I think I am too."

"You drink." Castiel stated.

"Yeah. A lot. Like, so much, I'm dealing with a hangover every morning." Dean smirked self-deprecatingly to himself.

"Why?" Castiel tilted his head.

"Honestly?" Cas nodded, "You. I mean it's me, but because of, I don't know, how I deal with you? I guess? I don't know, it's complicated, but it's just me and Sammy in that house and I have to be strong for him, but I can't because all I can think of is you, and how much I'm always fucking shit up between us." Dean's eyes were wild, full of unknown emotion, distress and self-hatred.

"How are you 'fucking shit up between us'?" Castiel used air quotations, making Dean crack a tiny smile at how awkwardly adorable that was.

"Y'know, like making you upset that first time at my house and then kissing you when you weren't sober and then I don't know what I've done wrong, but I know I've upset you these past few weeks even though it's been great just being with you." Dean explained.

Cas looked up at Dean, squinting. "You assbutt!" Castiel cried, hitting Dean on the arm lightly.

"What?!" Dean's eyes went wide with surprise.

"You didn't make me upset at your house! I made myself upset by making you upset!" Castiel huffed.

"What?" Dean uttered yet again, "You didn't make me upset." Dean said, frowning.

"I didn't?" Castiel asked equally as confused as Dean.

"No, man. I mean I got kinda mad at myself when you left, 'cause I thought I fucked up, but you didn't do anything wrong!"

"Hmm, then I suppose my apologies for running out on you are in order. I'm sorry." Castiel's eyes shone with sincerity.

"It's okay, you weirdo." Dean said, smiling. "But there's still the kiss…"

"Assbutt," Castiel muttered before crashing his mouth to Dean's.

The kiss was slow and passionate. Searing Castiel's lips as he tried to convey everything he was feeling. He made his annoyance known with the soft nips to Dean's lips, his forgiveness with the soft strokes of his tongue, and his hope with the exuberance he put in with every motion, clinging tightly to Dean as Dean held him just as tightly.

When they broke for air, lips only millimetres away from each other, Castiel whispered, "I wanted that kiss, just as I told you I wanted you. Sober or not, I mean it. I want you Dean Winchester. Do you still want me?" Each word brushed against Dean's lips.

"Fuck, yes, Cas." Dean managed to get out before meeting Castiel's lips again. This time there was more urgency in the kiss, as if Dean were trying to make up for all those weeks not kissing Cas.

Dean lowered Castiel down on the dock, not breaking the kiss. Castiel put his hands on Dean's waist, keeping Dean in place so that their crotches were aligned allowing the two boys to rub against each other, making them feel sparks of pleasure reach their extremities. Castiel moved his lips away from Dean's, kissing along his jaw and down his neck.

"Cas," Dean sighed contentedly, running his hands through Cas' messy dark hair.

Castiel reached Dean's collar bone, where he attached his mouth, sucking gently, grazing his teeth against the spot and deliberately running his tongue gently over the bruise that was forming.

Castiel's hand moved down to where Dean's growing hardness was begging for touch, massaging him through the denim.

Castiel had thought about this moment for weeks, and now that it was finally happening, it was more perfect than he could have hoped for. They'd cleared everything up between them, there was nothing holding them back from giving and receiving such addicting attention. It was everything Cas had ever wanted.

Castiel unzipped Dean's trousers, acting more boldly than he felt, and gripped Dean's cock in his hand, moving his hand up and down Dean's length.

"Oh, fuck, Cas!" Dean moaned, reattaching their lips as he began to thrust in Cas' hand.

Castiel wanted to stay in that moment forever. Dean was completely at his mercy, Cas was making Dean feel good and that realisation made Castiel almost painfully hard in his own trousers. He bucked up, rubbing himself against Dean's thigh, letting out a low grumble of pleasure.

"Dean. I want you to come for me," Cas murmured after a long while in his gravelly voice.

All it took was several more strokes of Cas' hand and some encouragement spoken in Castiel's lustful voice, and Dean was coming all over Cas' hand, calling out Cas' name. Castiel rubbed him through his orgasm, placing soft kisses all over Dean's sweaty hairline.

Dean collapsed next to Cas on the dock, kissing him adoringly, his hand undoing Castiel's trousers to return the favour.

Within minutes, Castiel was seeing stars as he clung to Dean, moaning Dean's name over and over.

Somehow Cas' lips found their way back to Dean's and the pair of them continued kissing, making up for all the times Cas had been waiting for Dean's kisses and not receiving them.

"We're good, right?" Dean asked, panting for breath between kisses.

Castiel let out a soft laugh, "I'd say we're better than good, Dean."

Dean smiled, eyes crinkling beautifully, before pecking Cas on the lips, "Good."