Okay! Just a couple more chapters to go here! I seriously cannot believe I wrote this much. I think I thought this was going to be somewhere around 10,000 words haha. Turned out to be kinda ambitious for a first story considering I've never written anything before! You all made it worth it to write this though!

Chapter 18

Much to everyone's disappointment, they didn't take the private jet. John had abducted it the night before when he had been called back to Washington suddenly. No one other than Bela looked remotely sad to see him go, but he promised to meet them all at the resort the following evening regardless to film the finale.

Castiel wondered if the other senators would notice that his eyebrows were missing. Gabriel claimed that some people actually looked better without eyebrows and he had done John a favor.

However, after spending nearly three hours crammed in economy seating, Castiel almost wished John Winchester hadn't left. Almost. Knees drawn up to his chest defensively, he sat slumped between two wailing children. Three, if Gabriel kicking the back of his seat from the row behind counted.

He supposed, after all the antics his family had pulled, he was due for a round of bad karma.

His one comfort was that the rest of the group was stranded in economy seating as well. Bela tapped her leg nervously and had her arms tightly crossed, as if she could avoid any possible lower class cooties by decreasing her surface area. Ruby and Sarah were fast asleep however, and, as Gabriel kicked his seat again, Castiel envied them their unknowing bliss.

Castiel had originally hoped to sit in the double seat by Dean, but had been thwarted by Sam, who claimed he needed some brotherly bonding time. Castiel really had no idea what that meant, unless it was Sam's secret way of saying he wished to try to suffocate his brother through the weight of his superior body mass. The two Winchesters had been stuffed into the back corner of the plane and Dean sat, squashed, against the window, shooting daggers at Sam, who had taken up the better portion of the two seats.

Suddenly, the children wiping snot on his pant leg didn't seem so bad to Castiel.

It was time to talk with Dean though. Even if Gabriel hadn't been much help in the dating advice arena, Castiel had had plenty of time to think over the past couple of days.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't force Dean to tell his father about the two of them. There was too much at stake for Dean—he could lose his relationship with his only parent if John couldn't handle the idea of his son being with another man. Castiel had never had a real parent and he wasn't about to ask Dean to sacrifice his.

However, he also had no intention of spending the rest of his life being shoved into a pantry in order to kiss the man he loved. He had enough self-respect to blanch at that option.

In the end, the decision would have to be up to Dean. Castiel knew he loved the man and if Dean let him, he would stay by his side forever, but Dean would have to choose that. He could either have Castiel fully and completely, or he could let him go. It was really the only way Castiel could live with himself: He was not, nor ever would be someone's dirty little secret.

He glanced back through the rows at Dean again and his gut clenched. It would kill him to leave the man, but if that was what it came to, he would do it, his own heart be damned.

"I can't breathe, Sam."

"Dude, you're such a drama queen."

"I'd say something sarcastic in reply, but I just ran out of air."

Sam tried to shuffle over into the aisle. It wasn't his fault that he was perhaps a shade taller than most men.

Dean huffed. "You're trying to justify the fact that you grew into a man-crushing giant again, aren't you?"

"Jerk."

"Bitch." Sam noted that some of the color had returned to Dean's cheeks however after he moved over.

Dean groaned. "So, can you tell me why I'm sitting here with you, being squashed, when I could be sitting by Cas, who happens to be smaller and much more comfortable?"

"Okay, don't freak on me here, but I wanted to talk."

"You wanted to talk? You are so gay, Sammy."

"Well, hey, now that you've brought up the subject…"

"Nuh-uh. That is not a subject. That is just a plain, old-fashioned insult."

"Let's talk about you and Cas," Sam said calmly. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Nope." Dean extracted his arms from where they were pinned at his sides and managed to cross them.

Sam sighed. "Just remember you forced my hand, okay?" He proceeded to pull out his phone and whip through his videos.

Sam knew his brother wouldn't be able to resist. Sure enough, Dean leaned over to look at the screen. Sam studied Dean's expression as it dawned on him that what he was watching wasn't static; it was powdered sugar.

"You can't…it's not possible…I checked for a camera…" he sputtered.

"Yeah, yeah. Kinda hard to check very thoroughly when your lips are locked with lover boy's though. The chocolate syrup was really a nice touch, if I do say so myself."

Dean didn't say anything for a long time. Sam wondered if he was going into shock and he should get him to breathe through his nose or cover him with a blanket or something.

He elbowed Dean in the side instead. "Dean, it's okay. You like Cas and that's fine. Do you really think I would care? I already told you I didn't."

"Does Dad know?" Dean asked quietly.

"No, no of course not. I, umm, made friends with a girl on the editing staff. She isn't going to show anyone."

Dean seemed to collect himself a little at that. "And how did you pull that one off?"

"Well, I might have agreed—"

"You sold your soul, didn't you?"

"No! Why does everyone think that?"

"I watch too much TV?" Dean chuckled weakly.

Sam shook his head. "Look, we're getting off track here. What I'm trying to say is that I want you to be happy, and if Cas makes you happy, I want you to go for it."

"Sam, if your selective memory would think back to the lecture Dad gave us when he arrived, you would remember that we've already talked about this."

"No, we didn't talk about it." Sam said firmly. "You just agreed Dad was right without ever consulting me. Who cares what Dad thinks? It's not his life."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"I'm okay, Dean, really. I didn't used to be—that fire and Jess dying was undeniably the worst time of my entire life. You were right to be worried about me and I'm so sorry I handled it the way I did. I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I regret that."

"I was mad, you know." Dean said slowly, like he had never really talked about it. "I thought that I could be enough, that I could fix you. But I wasn't."

Sam looked down at his hands. "You are enough, Dean. It just that…you don't have to be everything for me. You can't. You aren't Mom and you aren't Jessica—you're just my awesome older brother. Well, awesome and gay older brother."

Dean covered up the fact that his eyes watered a little with a sarcastic snort. "Don't you dare start with that or I'll make you explain to Sarah why you have porn-worthy videos of me on your phone."

Sam did a double take. "Wait. You know about me and Sarah?"

Dean tapped his head. "Older and smarter, Sammy. Dude, why do you think I've kept her in so long? She is so not my type. Jane Austen? Really?"

"And you're okay with it?"

"Course' I'm okay with it. She came to the mixer that first night in glasses and an argyle blazer. I knew you'd be totally all over that."

"Wow. I did not see that coming."

"Yeah, well, you'll owe me forever etcetera, etcetera…"

"Love you, Dean." He tried to give his brother a hug.

"God, Sammy! Can we just save it for later? Like if you almost die or something?"

Coming from Dean, that was practically an "I love you too".

Dean muttered something about chick-flick moments and left to get some air.

Dean paced at the back of the plane, a million thoughts running through his mind. He had to get his head straight, but the noise of the plane combined with a million passenger conversations wasn't helping.

He looked up though as a tan trench coat swam into view and he found Castiel peering into his personal space.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Cas cocked his head in that funny way he had of asking a question.

"Yeah, I've just got a lot on my mind. The usual stuff. Did you know Sam and Sarah are together?" he blurted out, not ready to talk about his real issues.

"No, but it makes sense. I suspected that might be the case."

They both stood there and Dean shuffled his feet.

Castiel hesitantly patted Dean on the arm. "I'll leave you to your thoughts. I merely came to use the facilities."

He turned around and slid through the small door that read "vacant" in green lettering on the side. Suddenly, Dean couldn't bear to see him go. Not really thinking, he slipped in behind Cas.

"Dean, what are—" Cas started to say but Dean covered his mouth with his own. God, he just wanted to do this all the time. He pushed Castiel against the small plastic counter and flipped the lock.

Castiel responded to him in a glorious instant. Cas tasted like sunshine and pie and everything that was right in the world. And when he made that little mewling sound in the back of his throat, Dean couldn't stop himself if he tried.

He slipped open a couple buttons of Cas's white dress shirt and marveled at the expanse of pale skin. Dean suddenly wanted nothing more to mark it. He let his lips trail down Castiel's neck and the other man groaned in appreciation.

"God, Cas, you're so perfect." He sucked at a spot on his collarbone and watched with deep satisfaction as a blue mark appeared. He wanted more though.

"Cas, do you wanna…" he trailed off suggestively and lowered his hands to Castiel's hips, rocking once.

However, the thrust was probably harder than he had intended because Castiel slipped off the counter and landed on top of the adjacent toilet seat.

"Dean, there's no room," Castiel rasped. "How is this appealing to you?"

"Because it's you, man." Apparently that was the right answer because Castiel scrambled awkwardly to his feet and fisted Dean's shirt in his hands. He slipped his tongue in Dean's mouth and Dean was pretty sure he'd gone to heaven.

They kept up like that for several minutes and if Dean couldn't quite get his arms all the way around the other man because the walls were too tight, he ignored it.

"Besides, I like to live in the moment. You never know when you'll get another chance like this," he added.

Castiel pulled back fractionally. "Are you referring to the practice of having cramped and probably germ-infested bathroom sex or to the fact that you don't know when you'll get another chance to kiss me?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. Both?"

Castiel's hands were pushing him backwards now. "I can't do this." He started re-buttoning his collar.

Dean tried to run through what he had said, but it wasn't making sense. "What do you mean?"

Castiel gestured between them. "This. I can't be your dirty little secret, Dean."

"What? No, it's not like that, Cas."

"Except that it is. You haven't told your father," he said pointedly.

"I just haven't found the right time…"

"And when will the right time be exactly?" Castiel peered at him with that piercing blue gaze and Dean had to look away. "Why are we still on this show if you've made your choice? Why are you making me go through this—watching you with other women and having to act I'm competing for your affections? Either you want me or you don't."

"Of course I want you, don't be stupid."

"Stupid? It's stupid to want to be able to hold your hand in front of everyone? It's stupid to hope that you would want only me?"

"That's not what I meant."

Castiel sighed. "I know that's not what you meant. And I'm not going to ask you to choose between your family and me; I would never do that. However, I do believe I deserve more for myself than a secret make out session in an airplane bathroom."

Dean had nothing to say. Cas was absolutely right.

Castiel seemed to read his silence as something else though. "What are your intentions, Dean? Have you ever been serious about me or has this all been a lark, an experiment?"

A million responses ran through his mind. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, Cas. I can't imagine life without you now. Who else has ever made me laugh the way you do? I love you. He didn't say anything however because a knock sounded abruptly on the restroom door.

"Uh, excuse me," the voice of a stewardess called out, "I, umm, hate to interrupt, but only one person can be in there at a time."

Cas glanced back toward the door and then back to Dean. He leaned forward slightly and brushed his lips across the other man's. "You have to choose, Dean. Either way, I promise I'll understand," he finished with a sad little quirk to his mouth. He was gone before Dean could even protest.

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur for Dean. Everything seemed to happen through a veil; a voice over the speakers announced that they had arrived in Cancun and he somehow managed to stumble off the plane.

Dean smiled numbly for the cameras as he checked into his resort suite, barely noticing the resplendent décor or the private Jacuzzi. He slipped into a swimsuit at some point and was vaguely aware of Sam hauling him to the beach.

He woke up for a brief moment when Cas arrived. His brother must have helped him find a swimsuit because Dean couldn't imagine that Cas would have picked out such a hot pair of black board shorts for himself.

Cas ignored him completely however and went swimming with Sam and Gabriel. It was a special kind of torture to watch them all laugh together from afar as Dean sulked under the umbrella and endured Ruby's endless complaints about the heat and Bela's attempt to tan herself in the sluttiest positions possible.

He pinched himself and dug his toes into the burning sand, but somehow even that didn't feel real.

Dinner passed in much the same way. Their party sat by the poolside under twinkling strands of lights, sipping fine wine on low divans and feasting on the best Cancun had to offer, but Dean hardly noticed. He was fairly certain he didn't embarrass himself, laughed in all the right places and didn't mix up his fork and his spoon, but that was it. His friends might as well have been speaking gibberish for all he cared and barely even batted an eye when Gabriel soaked him from an impromptu cannonball.

It simply hadn't occurred to him that he could lose Castiel. Even on his insane midnight ride to the airport, he had assumed that he would somehow catch up with Cas and that everything would work out. Castiel not wanting him back had never crossed his mind.

And now it was over. Cas had said as much. He wanted the whole package and Dean wasn't ready.

In the end, Dean just didn't think he had it in him to ruin his dad's hopes and dreams for his life. During the past weeks, he had experimented with what it felt like to make his own decisions and it was hard. It was hard to figure out what you really wanted and to have the courage to go get it. Maybe people like Sam could do that, but he didn't seem to be wired the same way.

He was afraid because, when it came down to it, what he wanted and what his dad wanted weren't very similar at all. And it wasn't only about Cas, if Dean was honest with himself. He thought back to his childhood dream of being a firefighter instead of a politician. If he truly wanted his own life, Cas was that first seemingly insurmountable step to having it—once he chose Cas, he would never be able to go back and it scared the shit out of him.

Dean suddenly realized that he had been abandoned by the poolside. He vaguely recalled seeing the others leave some time ago, but couldn't remember where they went. He slumped back into the divan and watched the different color lights flicker underwater, feeling like he was on the brink of some elusive revelation that was just out of his reach.

The slap of footsteps startled him however and he twisted around, half hoping that Cas had come for him after all. He was disappointed as a moist pair of lips brushed by his ear and he caught the scent of a sickly sweet perfume.

"Hey, sexy. You look like you could use some company."

"That's why I have my wine glass, Bela." He tipped it her direction and drained the remainder.

"Touching, Dean. You really are quite the charmer," she said but sat down next to him regardless.

"I aim to please, princess. Feel free to leave any time now." Dean poured himself another glass and proceeded to ignore her.

Bela, failing to take a hint, ran her fingers up his arm. He shuddered. "I'm not all bad, am I?" she asked.

Dean considered ripping her a new one. A long list of all the wrongs she had committed threatened to spill off his tongue, but he was just too tired. Or, maybe, this was what becoming more mature felt like?

It was pointless anyhow though; Bela would never be able to understand what a conniving bitch she really was because manipulating and lying to people were like what breathing and eating were to others. He might as well spend his time teaching Sam how to appreciate classic rock.

"You should go into business with my father," he said instead.

Bela thought about it and decided to look flattered. "And what makes you say that?"

"You'd probably be good at it. Heck, at the rate you're going, you could even make president someday."

The irony passed right over her. "Well, just as long as it wouldn't interfere with the fashion line I'm launching," she replied seriously.

Dean rolled his eyes and poured a third glass. He couldn't believe they were having an actual conversation, even if it mostly consisted of Dean insulting Bela without her realizing.

"I've decided to forgive you for the camouflage, by the way," she said and adopted her most charitable expression. "I have a feeling that little mishap might have had more to do with a certain meddlesome and rather obnoxious Novak."

"Well that's just incredibly generous of you, isn't it?" Dean couldn't remember how much wine he'd had over the course of the evening, but the world was spinning slightly.

"Yes it is, actually." Bela poured herself a glass of the stuff and held it up in a toast. "To generosity," she said.

Dean saluted and drained his cup. "To fucking generosity," he repeated.

In the next instant, before he could react, a pair of lips covered his own and he forgot it wasn't Cas. Maybe it was the combined effects of the alcohol and the pity party he had been throwing himself, but it felt good for a moment. He could almost pretend that Castiel would sigh his name any second and wrap his arms around him.

The scent of Bela's perfume hit him again though and, with a jolt, he tried to push her away. "Get off. I didn't ask you to kiss me. You have to get off."

"Dean, you know you want this," she purred from where she had managed to drape herself across his lap. "You've always wanted this."

It hit him. No, he didn't want this. He knew exactly what he wanted and it wasn't Bela.

He tried to stand up at the same moment a chair clattered sharply to the deck floor. Castiel was there, picking himself up from where he had tripped and his shocked blue eyes met Dean's own.

"Forgive me. It was not my intention to, umm, interrupt. I was just coming…to see if you were okay…" he trailed off. His eyes flicked away from Dean and he backed up, a heartbroken expression etched across his features. In horror, Dean realized how this all had to look to Cas. He had Bela's freaking lipstick all over his face.

"Cas…this isn't...it's not how it looks," he tried to say but Castiel bolted.

"Get off me, Bela!" Dean yelled again, pushing Bela away. He had to find Cas and explain. He had to tell him what had happened.

Bela sat up. "That was rather unfortunate timing, wasn't it?" she smirked and rearranged her hair.

"You knew! You saw him coming!"

She stood and straightened her skirt. "It's for the best, Dean."

"Like hell it's for the best." He stood, preparing to race after Castiel. Bela grabbed his sleeve but he shoved her off.

Dean took all of two steps in the direction Castiel had run when a loud splash echoed from the pool area. Bela, dressed in a tight skirt and six-inch high heels, had fallen in. And Dean was the one who had accidentally pushed her.

He waited for her to swim to the side but she floundered in the water. "Of course she can't swim. Or course she can't fucking swim!" he yelled to the heavens, ripped off his shirt and jumped in after her.

By the time he dragged a sopping wet Bela back onto solid ground, he had no idea where Cas had gone. Dean pounded on his door until his voice went hoarse and even camped out beside it in the hallway, but Cas never returned.

Okay, after writing this I feel totally angsty. I think I actually need some Ben and Jerry's now! But hey! If you like what you read, I would love to hear about it! Reviews totally make my day awesome. They're almost better than ice-cream...wait, what am I saying? Haha:)