Chapter 2

"Be careful, it's hot," Dean reminded Castiel as he set the steaming bowl down on his lap. He didn't actually need to remind him anymore – a couple of burned tongues had taught the lesson far better than words ever could – but he did it anyways because he always laughed watching Castiel puff out his cheeks and blow determinedly on the broth for a few minutes before starting to eat.

"I can't believe you're not tired of that stuff yet," the hunter chuckled, plopping down on the couch. "What's that, like, your hundredth bowl of chicken noodle soup so far?"

Castiel cocked his head to the side. "It's good," he stated before continuing to blow on his soup.

"Yeah, but don't you want to try something else? Have some pie," Dean insisted, holding up a forkful of the sugary mess from his own plate.

Shoving his hand away playfully, Castiel huffed, "I've told you many times, I don't want any. You're missing your favorite part," he added, nodding his head toward the tv screen.

It seemed as though in the three days since the fallen angel appeared at Bobby's salvage yard, Dean and Castiel hadn't moved from their spots on the couch, watching re-runs of Dr. Sexy with soup and pie. Bobby had left his house to the boys after getting a vague call from one of his hunter friends and going off to help with something or other. Sam had busied himself looking for signs of the missing grace while Gabriel made a general nuisance of himself, and though Dean wanted to help his friend get back to his angel-status as much as the next guy, he found that he enjoyed spending time just hanging out with him, and he wasn't exactly eager to give that up. He actually kind of liked caring for Castiel; making him soup, tending to his injuries, distracting him and making him laugh whenever he got that serious look that meant he was thinking about Heaven a little too much. Not to mention, he had to teach him all about being human.

Eating and sleeping were the easy parts, but other things had been a bit more complicated. The first time Castiel had to use the bathroom absolutely terrified him. However, he managed to figure it out without making things too uncomfortable for Dean, who despite his uncontrollable laughter was extremely relieved that he didn't have to get too hands-on in that area.

Castiel had also started picking up on little things, like body language, especially with Dean. He could tell when the hunter was being sarcastic or genuine, when he was excited or tired or irritated. And when he was upset, Castiel learned not to ask. Just to be there and offer his silent support.

The more time he spent with Dean, the more his feelings for the man grew. He wasn't sure if he should do anything about them, and even if he wanted to he didn't know how, so he just tried not to think about it. But that was getting more and more difficult.

Castiel spooned some noodles into his mouth and watched out of the corner of his eye as Dean set aside his now empty plate and stretched his arms up lazily, laughing at some joke on the tv show. The muscles in his torso rippled under his thin t-shirt and Castiel tried as best as he could not to stare. But when Dean casually leaned back and placed an arm around his shoulders, Castiel couldn't help looking over at him with wide eyes, his mouth falling open.

Dean caught his gaze, a shocked expression on his face, as if he was just as surprised by what he had done. He hurriedly looked away again and started to take his arm back, muttering an apology under his breath.

Castiel caught his hand before Dean could move away and tugged until it was back around him, offering a timid smile, which the hunter immediately returned in full. He settled back down and Castiel shifted a little so that he was pressed against Dean's side, soaking up the warmth emanating from him. It was just a friendly gesture, he told himself, trying to suppress the small part of him that hoped it was something more.

Castiel kept eating his noodles and watching the show, though he wasn't paying much attention anymore. He was distracted, listening to the other man's steady breathing and feeling his chest rise and fall against him. Although Castiel hated being so weak, so human, he decided it might be worth it just for these moments he got to spend with his hunter by his side.

"C'mon Sam, please," Gabriel begged, leaning across the desk to snatch the heavy book out of the younger Winchester's hands. "There's no way this old thing is more interesting than me!"

"I'm trying to help Cas," Sam snapped, reaching to get his book back. "You could help too, you know."

Gabriel held the thick volume high, tauntingly, just out of the big man's reach. "I've been helping. Just take a short break with me. Please?" he asked again, making caramel colored puppy dog eyes and pouting.

"And do what? Go watch Dr. Sexy with the star-crossed lovers?" Sam smirked. "No thanks."

Gabriel huffed in annoyance. He'd been trying to get Sam's attention for way too long now; he wasn't used to being ignored like this. He wasn't sure why he wanted the hunter's attention so badly, but he didn't stop to think too hard about it. He turned it into a game – Let's-See-How-Long-It-Takes-To-Make-Sam-Winchester-Snap – but really, he was the one about to run out of patience.

"We could go somewhere," the archangel offered. "Just get outta here for a while. The fresh air might do us both some good."

Sam sat back in his chair and crossed his arms across his broad chest. He stared Gabriel down for a few long seconds before finally sighing, "Where exactly are we gonna go?"

The smile Gabriel beamed at him almost hurt his eyes. "I'll surprise you!"

Before he could get out a word of protest, two fingers were pressed against his forehead and he felt the familiar sensation of angel flight; his stomach churned and he was lightheaded and dizzy, but his feet landed on solid ground almost immediately. Well, not quite solid... more like...

"Are we on a beach?" Sam asked in disbelief. He took in the hot sand under his feet, the high, jagged rocks that encircled the two of them, and the stretch of crystal clear water that seemed to extend endlessly into the horizon. It was breathtaking, vibrant shades of blue and green and white and brown, a perfectly picturesque scene. But, being Sam Winchester, he couldn't just enjoy it. "Cas is at Bobby's completely graceless, and you wanted to take the time to come to a beach?"

"Lighten up, kiddo," Gabriel chuckled as he patted the big man on the shoulder. "Relax a little. Spiaggi Rosa is one of my favorites, I know you'll love it." He threw his arms up and ran off toward the waves rolling up on the soft, white sand, sporting nothing but a pair of swimming trunks.

Sam sighed heavily. He needed to be back at Bobby's, researching, finding answers, helping his friend. Although, looking around at the beautiful scenery, he supposed taking a break with Gabe for a little while wouldn't be too bad. Castiel was back with Dean, and they seemed cozy enough to be there for a while on their own just fine. The water looked extremely inviting, and he found himself laughing as he watched the archangel frolic in the gentle waves.

"C'mon, Sammy!" he called out, jumping up and diving back down into the salty spray.

Sam took off running, stripping down to his boxers to join his friend, actually a little grateful that he could forget the worries hanging over his head for a moment and have some fun.

Not too long after that, the big man found himself sprawled out on his back in the sand, letting the gentle breeze blow through his unruly, tangled mop of golden hair. He sighed contentedly and cracked one eye open to glance at the equally relaxed body laying on its side next to him.

Gabriel twirled a finger in the sand, grabbing a handful and letting the grains fall between his fingers. He cleared his throat. "Sam, I gotta tell you something."

"Yeah?"

"About Cassie's grace..."

Sam propped himself up on his elbows and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Go on..."

The archangel bit his lip before continuing, avoiding eye contact. "I have it."

"You what?!" the hunter exclaimed angrily, moving to sit up straighter. "For how long? And you didn't tell me? You didn't tell Cas?!"

"Hey hey, easy man, lemme explain." Gabriel placed a cautioning hand on Sam's chest to hold him down. His honey colored eyes still evaded the hunter's accusatory stare. "He's doing okay, yeah? He's with Dean. I wanted to... I dunno, he seems happy, ya know? Being with him. I thought it would be good for them to get closer. With their profound bond, or whatever." He kept his other hand buried in the sand, fidgeting uneasily, acting very unlike his usual cocky self.

"Why do you care?" Sam asked. "It's not like that has anything to do with you."

"He's my brother," Gabriel said sharply, finally meeting Sam's gaze. "I care."

"He's not used to being human, Gabe. He's hurting."

"And Dean is taking care of him. He's fine! It's fine. Just, let him be. For a little while longer. Anyway, don't tell me you don't see it," the archangel added with a smirk.

"See what?"

"The chemistry between those two? The tension? The eye fucking?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, gross," Sam said with an eyeroll and a laugh, laying back down on the sand and shoving Gabriel's hand away playfully. "Seriously though, you're holding Castiel's grace hostage so he can be with Dean? That's a little extreme."

"Like I said, he's fine. Being human for a little while never hurt anybody," Gabriel dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

"When are you gonna give it back?"

"When they get their heads out of their asses and have se–"

"Okay! Really, enough with the mental pictures already," Sam groaned. He rolled over onto his stomach, exposing his chiseled back dotted with sand that had stuck to his skin. Gabriel couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the tanned muscles glistening in the sunlight. He had never seen Sam shirtless before, and he decided it was a damn shame that the hunter kept such a well toned body hidden under his clothes all the time. It was no secret that he'd had his own escapades between the sheets with men, but he had never seen someone who looked so pure and raw, so defined. He wanted to reach out and touch, feel the silky skin on his fingertips, revel in the strength of the hunter's muscles as he moved...

"Dude, are you listening?"

Gabriel was snapped out of his reverie. "Huh?"

"I said," Sam huffed, "we should probably go on back to Bobby's. They're gonna realize we're gone."

The archangel didn't want to leave his tropical paradise with his hunter – he realized that Castiel may not be the only one with a Winchester fixation – but he reluctantly agreed. He gently reached around and pressed his fingers to Sam's forehead, zapping them back to the study, dried off and (unfortunately) fully clothed. Sam took a second to steady himself and register where he was.

Glancing over at the piles of books and papers littering the wooden desk, Gabriel smirked, "At least you can lay off the reading, eh?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed with a sigh. "I can finally catch up on some sleep now." He turned to leave the room, but paused and looked back over his shoulder, brushing gold strands of hair out of his eyes. "Thanks, for uh, taking me out there today. It was fun." The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.

"Anytime, Sammy boy." Gabriel shrugged his shoulders as if it was nothing, but his wide grin betrayed how much those words meant to him. His caramel colored eyes gazed deep into hazel ones for a long moment before the hunter finally turned around and left.

Sam made his way to the panic room downstairs, where he shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his boots before climbing into the bed. He laid on his back, crossing his ankles and moving his hands behind his head as he closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

He wondered what he was going to do about Castiel's grace; if he should tell Dean, or Bobby, or even Cas, or if he should just let Gabriel do whatever the hell he wanted to. Knowing the ex-trickster, that would happen no matter what, Sam thought with a chuckle. Dean and Castiel did have a little chemistry, he guessed, now that he thought about it. He had never even considered his brother being into guys, being the chick magnet that he was, but he honestly didn't really care either way. Whatever made him happy. If that just so happened to be an angel in a trench coat, well good for him.

Rolling over onto his side, Sam nestled into the sheets, taking a deep breath and relaxing his shoulders. He kept picturing the beach; the cool water, the gentle breeze, the breathtaking view, Gabriel glowing in the warm sunlight... He wouldn't mind going back sometime. Hell, he wouldn't mind staying there forever. He was thankful that the archangel had taken him out somewhere calm and peaceful, just the two of them. Relaxing wasn't something he got to do very often anymore, and he had felt so completely blissed out. As he slipped slowly into visions of white sand and blue waves, a pair of caramel colored eyes found their way into his dreams, and he thought for a moment that maybe it wasn't as much the scenery as it was the company that had made him feel so at home.

Dean hummed to himself as he rifled through his duffel bag for a clean pair of jeans. He finally found a pair without any holes, dirt, or bloodstains and tossed them behind him onto the makeshift cot he had thrown together for Castiel in one of Bobby's empty rooms upstairs. He then pulled out a faded and wrinkled Led Zeppelin t-shirt and held it up, taking a good long look before deciding that even if it hung down to Castiel's knees, it would have to work. He zipped his duffel back up and was just about to go downstairs to grab a beer when he heard a frantic voice call him from the bathroom.

"Dean!"

He ran down the hallway and flung open the door, immediately overwhelmed with the wave of heat and steam pouring out of the running shower. Trying to bat it away from his face with one hand, he reached out with the other and called out, "Cas?"

"Dean," Castiel squeaked from the far side of the bathroom. He was standing just outside of the shower and had somehow tangled himself up in the shower curtain. Bits of soap were stuck in his dark hair and he was soaking wet, dripping water all over the floor. His frightened blue eyes looked up at Dean helplessly through the steam. "Help."

Dean couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing. It looked as if Castiel had picked a fight with the shower and lost – miserably. He made his way across the bathroom and reached around the poor guy to turn off the running water before helping to unwrap him from the curtain. "How the hell did you manage this?" he asked, wiping tears from his eyes, still chuckling heartily.

"I don't know," Castiel sighed. "This isn't funny, Dean. I don't know what to do!"

"Calm down, you're fine, I just gotta... Jesus, Cas, you really tied yourself up in this thing." Dean grunted as he tugged hard on the curtain. Finally it gave, falling away onto the floor, leaving Castiel completely exposed.

Tension immediately thickened the air between the two. Dean froze, face instantly flushed with red and his green eyes widened before darting away from the naked man in front of him. "Sorry... I uh... didn't mean to um..."

Castiel noticed the hunter's growing embarrassment, and though he felt none of his own, he hurriedly stooped to pull the curtain back up and wrapped it around his waist. "It's okay." He ran slender fingers through his hair and then looked at his now soap-covered hand, tilting his head slightly. "I'm soapy."

Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding before looking back at the fallen angel with a nervous laugh. "You think you can rinse off without wrestling the shower curtain this time?" he teased, trying to ease the tension with humor, though he was apparently the only one who felt it.

"Yes, I will try," Castiel replied with a sincere nod. "Thank you, Dean."

"Yeah, sure. And uh, I laid out some clothes in the other room for when you're done," Dean added as he turned to leave. "They might be a little big, but I can send Sam out to get you some that fit if you want." He smiled meekly at Castiel before hurrying out of the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Once back in the hallway, Dean leaned his back against the wall and took a couple deep breaths. Thoughts were running through his mind at a mile a minute, all of them questions, none of which he had the answers to. Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did he feel so lightheaded? And why did that close encounter with Castiel – a very male Castiel – turn him on so freaking much?

Jimmy Novak was an attractive man. A little on the small side, but he was very well proportioned, and his defined jawline was something anybody could appreciate. He had lean muscle that rippled beneath pale skin as he moved, which he always did fluidly and gracefully. Dean had never seen the angel in anything other than that trench coat, but the image of the flawless figure was already tattooed into his retinas from just that brief moment. With closed eyes, he imagined being back in the bathroom, standing in front of Castiel, admiring him from top to bottom. Starting at his shoulders, moving down slowly, taking in the powerfully built torso... and Christ, those hipbones! Dean didn't dare go any lower than that, not even in his mind, forcing his eyes open and having to slow his breathing again.

He looked down and, dear God, he hoped the angel hadn't noticed his raging hard on through his jeans. Admittedly, it was a little hard to miss. He rubbed his face in his hands and tilted his head back until it hit the wall, letting out a quiet groan. Dean Winchester, well renowned ladies man, could not be gay. Especially not for an angel. Wouldn't that be blasphemy or something?

Besides, it was probably just frustration. He hadn't been with a woman in weeks, or could it even have been months? He honestly couldn't remember. With a final deep breath, he decided that he would drive out to the local bar and let off some steam that evening. Trying to focus on getting rid of his unwelcome boner, he pushed himself off the wall and went downstairs.

Passing by the study, Dean did a double take, peeking his head around the corner. "Gabriel? Where's Sam?" He looked around the room and furrowed his brow as he caught a whiff of something different... kind of smelled like... the ocean. Strange.

The archangel looked at him over his feet, which were propped up on Bobby's desk. He pulled the cherry red lollipop out of his mouth slowly, rolling it on his bright pink tongue before replying, "He's taking a break. Poor kid has to sleep sometime."

"You guys get anywhere with the grace thing?"

"Nah, but we're still looking, don't worry," Gabriel lied through his teeth. It wasn't really that hard for him, being a trickster and all. Besides, Dean didn't look too disappointed. In fact, the hunter's green eyes seemed to light up a little bit. He smirked. He was so right about this whole 'profound bond' thing.

"Alright well, lemme know if I can help," said Dean as he continued on his way to the kitchen.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed into the living room, where he settled into his usual spot on the couch. Twirling the remote in his fingers, he flipped through channels looking for something worth wasting some time on. He paused on some soap opera so he could open up his beer and take a swig.

"Dean," came a voice from behind him.

The hunter turned and almost choked on his drink. Castiel stood in the doorway of the living room, dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for him. Bare feet peeked out from under a pair of too-big jeans that sagged suggestively low on his hips. The faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt hung off his shoulders, but the thin fabric clung to him and his curves. His dark, messy hair was still a little damp and a few water droplets slid down the sides of his neck, collecting in the hollow between his collarbones. He looked... really, really sexy.

Dean just stared, mouth hanging open in a small o, beer bottle held loosely in his fingertips.

Castiel cleared his throat. "I'm clean," he stated.

Dean inhaled sharply, but still found himself unable to look away, wide green eyes raking over the fallen angel's body. "Yeah," he breathed. Suddenly, his mind snapped to attention and he realized what he was doing, quickly looking down at his feet. "Good," he added gruffly before taking another swig of his beer and leaning back on the couch, trying to be nonchalant about the pillow he was pulling over onto his lap. Dear God, he hoped Castiel was still clueless enough to not understand what had just happened.

Maybe he was a little more sexually frustrated than he thought. Or a lot more. His trip to the bar that evening just couldn't come fast enough.

Dean felt the couch dip under Castiel's weight as he sat down beside the hunter. He felt the piercing blue eyes on him, but refused to meet them with his own. Instead, he cleared his throat and stammered nervously, "You can take it off. I mean, turn! Turn it off. The tv. Cause, uh, I'm not watching it."

"Are you alright, Dean?" Castiel asked concernedly. He started to raise a hand to the other man's forehead, but Dean shied away from his touch.

"Yeah, fine. I'm fine."

Castiel pulled his hand back and rested it in his lap. He looked down and twirled his thumbs around each other, wondering what he could have done to upset his hunter so much. It must have been the shower. Dean saw him without any clothes, and it made him uncomfortable. If he had just kept a hold on that infuriatingly slippery bar of soap then maybe –

"I'm going out," Dean said suddenly before standing up and marching out of the room. Castiel's stomach dropped when he heard the front door close behind him.

With a heavy sigh, the fallen angel stretched out and laid down on the couch, resting his head on a pillow. He pulled the neck of the t-shirt he was wearing up to his face and breathed in deeply. It still smelled like Dean; aftershave, motor oil, and his own unique scent that was wildly intoxicating to Castiel. If he closed his eyes he could almost believe that he was back in the hunter's arms, laying on his chest, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

"Another drink, handsome?"

Dean blinked out of his reverie and looked up at the bartender, who was leaning over the counter and eying him predatorily. She tilted her head so she could gaze at him with bright, sparkling eyes from under dark red bangs, biting her lower lip and raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Yes ma'am," replied Dean in a low voice, smirking slightly. They had been flirting shamelessly since he arrived, just a few words back and forth at a time. He drained the last few drops from his glass as he watched her bend over to get the bottle.

"Anything else I can get you?" Her voice was almost a purr as she refilled his glass. Her fingers brushed against his lightly and dark eyes stared deep into his.

"Actually, I can think of a few things," Dean said softly, leaning in close, keeping up the staring contest. He had played this game more times than he could count, and he could tell that he already had her right where he wanted her.

"I get off at ten," she murmured, and he could feel her breath on his lips, they were that close. "Don't move." With a wink and a smile, she leaned back and turned to tend to the rest of the men lined up at the bar drinking themselves into a stupor.

Dean raised his glass and took a sip. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting here or how many drinks he'd had, but the familiar burn of alcohol in the back of his throat just wasn't enough to clear his mind this time. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about it – about him. Castiel.

He closed his eyes and fought back the images of the angel in his clothes, mussed hair and cheeks tinged pink from the heat of the shower. Jeans hanging low on his hips, and he just knew those sinful hipbones were peeking out above the waistline, even though he couldn't see them because they were covered by the too-big t-shirt. His t-shirt. That made him smile, for some reason.

But back to the hipbones... and the protruding collarbones, and the defined muscles, and the thin trail of dark hair that led down, down to where Dean hadn't dared to look...

The hunter took a deep breath and forced his eyes open, shifting slightly in his seat to relieve the uncomfortable pressure in his groin. He downed the rest of his drink in one go and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before pulling out his phone and checking the time. Still had forty-five minutes to kill before he could get out of here with the bartender. He groaned; he needed relief now.

He motioned at the bartender and she walked back over to him, reaching for the same bottle he had been drinking from all night, but he shook his head and said in a hoarse voice, "No, not that. Strongest thing you got."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, but turned and pulled a tall bottle of clear liquid from the shelf behind her and filled his glass wordlessly. Before she could replace it, he added, "Leave the bottle."

"You sure about that, sweetie?" she asked, still trying to be flirtatious but unable to mask the concern in her voice. At Dean's terse nod, she leaned over and rested her elbows on the bar in front of him. "Seems like you got a lot on your mind, huh?"

Dean snorted. "You read me like a book."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I don't even know your name, and you wanna know my deepest darkest secrets?"

"Not your deepest darkest ones, just the ones on the surface," the bartender joked back. "I'm Luann."

"I'm Dean," he replied before taking a long drink from his glass, grimacing as he swallowed.

"So what is it, then? Your job? Family? Girlfriend?" Luann asked.

Dean let out a hollow chuckle. "Not one to beat around the bush, are ya? None of the above."

"Boyfriend?" she pressed, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

"No," Dean said quickly, but his cheeks immediately flushed bright red and he looked down at his hands, causing Luann's eyes to widen.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, at a loss of something to say, before finally regaining her composure and asking quietly, "Did you guys have a fight?"

"No! We didn't – there isn't – we're not together," Dean rushed out.

"But you like him." It wasn't a question. When Dean flashed her a what-the-hell look, Luann grinned, "I'm not an idiot. Why else would you be all upset? Does he know you like him like that?"

Dean's mouth hung open and he just stared in shock. He was not about to have a chick-flick conversation about his feelings with some random girl he met in a bar. That was just wrong on so many levels. There was no way... But somehow, he found himself answering her question, unable to stop himself from shaking his head no.

"Well that's it then, you dumbass," Luann huffed, smacking him on the head as if they were old friends. The action reminded him a little of Ellen. "You gotta tell him how you feel, or you're never gonna get with him. You can't just sit around and wait for him to make the first move if he doesn't even know you like him." She rolled her eyes as if it were obvious.

"But he's not... I'm not... I'm straight," Dean finally managed to get out.

It was Luann's turn to laugh. "Right. You're just the poster child of heterosexuality, sitting in a bar, drowning yourself in booze to forget about your unrequited love for another man."

Dean glared at her. "It's not love," he snapped.

"Whatever," she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "My professional advice to you? Go get him, tiger."

Dean rolled his eyes, reaching for the bottle to refill his now empty glass, but Luann snatched it away before he could wrap his fingers around it. "Uh-uh, you've had enough for tonight, I think."

With another glare, Dean snarled, "What are you, my babysitter?"

"No, I'm your friend." Luann flashed her teeth at him in a warm smile and added, "Instead of letting you get even more drunk, I'm telling you, go get your man and live happily ever after, okay?"

"Right away, your highness," Dean grumbled, gazing sadly at the bottom of his glass.

"It's a shame," Luann continued, "I really thought I was gonna get to take you home tonight, too. He's a lucky one, your guy."

"He's not 'my guy'," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes, but he seemed to finally give in. He stood up and pulled a couple bills out of his wallet before handing them over to Luann. "Thanks, I guess."

"See you around," she winked, pocketing the money and flashing him another grin. "Good luck."

"Yeah, yeah." As he left the bar and headed toward the Impala, he sighed heavily. How the hell had a random stranger cornered him into a conversation like that? At least he'd been alone, so no one else could make fun of him for it, but still.

And he hadn't even gotten laid. So he would have to go back to Bobby's, back to Castiel, wearing Dean's t-shirt and Dean's jeans, and pretend like he wasn't so turned on he could come in his pants just from looking at him. He slammed his fist down on the dashboard and let out a groan.

It was going to be a long night.