The tequila shot burned down his throat, he grunted and downed another. Dean was on his way to becoming thoroughly drunk, and that's what he wanted. He hadn't seen Castiel since their last date, hadn't even heard from him, it'd been two weeks. Sometimes the walls Dean built up around himself came crumbling. Here in this Missouri bar he drowned his feelings about his dead father, his demon blood addicted brother, his mother. He couldn't save any of them. Couldn't even save himself, surely he was going back to Hell. He couldn't stop anyone from leaving. Not even the angel bonded to him. He slapped some money on the battered bar and stumbled out of the door. Luckily he only had to make it across the street to get to the motel, any further and he surely would have fallen.

"Sam!" he pounded on the door, "Sammy, open up!" he tried to find the keycard in his jacket and after a few moments of patting and digging he carefully lined up the card with the slot. It was a lot easier when he wasn't a shot away from blackout drunk. He tripped over the threshold and landed face first on the threadbare carpet. He laid there for a moment, trying to register what had happened. Eventually he pulled himself onto the bed, stripping his boots, jacket, and shirt once he got there. He flopped backwards and heard a crinkle and felt something scratching at his back. He grumbled and pulled the note from Sam out from under him. Dean wasn't even sure himself why he tried to read it in this state, all he could make out was "Lead, Ruby, Later, Sam."

"Demon bitch."

Dean stumbled into the bathroom. His lazy liquored legs dragged on the ground, catching on a discarded pair of jeans. He went down; his head hit the white porcelain of the sink. Blood's gonna stain the grout, he thought before blackness overtook him.

He instinctively leaned over the edge of the bed as his stomach wretched. Someone had placed the trash can there, how convenient, he thought before his body continued tossing up the minute contents of his stomach. By the time he was able to sit back up he realized someone had put him in bed and bandaged his head. He felt foggy and nauseated. There was someone handing him a cup of water.

"Drink," the voice managed to sound smooth and gravelly at the same time, he couldn't wrap his broken head around it but he didn't question it. "You have a concussion" the tan trench coat sat on the edge of the bed.

"Cas?" his voice was scratchy and confused.

"Yes."

"Can you…?" his hands made wonky motions towards himself, but the angel understood. A gentle hand touched Dean's forehead and he suddenly felt a lot better.

"Thanks," he paused, "Why didn't you just start out with that?"

"With your aversion to reading your thoughts, I wasn't sure if you'd be mad if I healed you."

"Oh. Uh, it's okay. Thanks," Castiel's nimble fingers unwrapped the now useless gauze and bandages around Dean's head. Dean couldn't look at him; he was ashamed to be caught in a moment of weakness. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Are you referring to my absence?" He said, needlessly checking over the hunter who nodded. "Dean, I'm very busy, I still have orders. I apologize. I still kept an eye on you. Clearly not closely enough though." His hand caressed the hunter's cheek, gently turning the face up towards his, "I'm sorry."

"I'm selfish."

Castiel's brow furrowed.

"I forget that you're flying around doing good deeds and protecting and shit when you're not here. I got mad. At you, at myself. I thought I scared you away, after…After last time."

"but I liked that," his head tilted in confusion.

"Yeah. I just. I don't know, man." He threw his hands up in a futile attempted to explain something he couldn't even begin to articulate. He slid out of the bed past the angel, he noticed for the first time he was only in a pair of boxer briefs. He was too flustered to care. He paced back and forth in the small room, the clock read 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Sam wasn't back yet. He checked his cell for messages, he remembered the note "Went to look for some leads in the next town over with Ruby, I should be back later Sunday, Sam." It was Saturday. He felt a little calmer. The angel just watched the man move nervously around the room.

"Dean, is there something I can do?"

The hunter stopped in his tracks and looked as if he's just remembered the angel was there. "Are we…you know?"

"I don't know."

Dean flailed uselessly again and groaned. He plopped on the second bed parallel to Cas, he looked defeated for a moment, before he clearly had decided something in his head and looked to the angel.

"Are we dating? I mean like a couple. I mean like, boyfriends?" his green eyes searched the face.

"I suppose our…relationship , is at a customary point of decision," Castiel paused and looked into the other man's eyes, "Did you not want to be a couple?"

Dean's face dropped, and he reached out to take Cas's hands in his, "I want you. I want only you. I don't want to take home anymore bar girls. I care about you, Cas. If you want to see other people…" his voice drifted off and his eyes dropped.

"I only see you," his voice was soft, he squeezed the hands holding his as if to press the thought into Dean's skin.

"So we're together? We're a couple?"

"Yes."

"Can we set up some rules? Like at least let me know you're alright if you're going to be gone for weeks?"

"That is reasonable. Could you refrain from getting drunk and falling in the bathroom?"

"I'll try," he smiled and the angel smiled back. They just took in the sight of each other. After a while, Dean got up and pulled Cas up with him, "take off your coat and shoes and all that crap. You can leave your pants on. I want to do something I never really get to do." Castiel obliged. Dean slipped into the bed again, and patted the empty space next to him, "Get in." The bed was warm, Castiel instinctively wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders. He was surprised how natural human affection came to him, but he didn't mind. The hunter draped an arm over his chest and nuzzled the crook of his neck.

"This is cuddling, correct?"

"Yeah," Dean replied rather dreamily. The angel smelled like freshly washed clothes, olive oil, and earth after rain. It was an odd combination, but it was so comforting. Castiel kissed the top of Dean's head.

"I like this."

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Don't go anywhere for a while, just stay here please. Just for the day."

"Of course, my love."

Dean smiled into the angel's skin, he was happy again.