/Still a lot of ache and angst. Goddammit./

DEAN

"You look awful." Sam comments, rather unnecessarily in Dean's opinion. He feels awful.

"I'm worried about Cas." Dean mutters in reply, running a hand through his mussed hair. He hasn't bothered with getting it cut the past few months, and it's grown rather shaggy, flopping over his head.

"Dude." Sam is concerned. Dean has to admit it's within good reason, but he's just not in the mood.

"Don't Sammy." Dean warns. They're hanging out in Bobby's kitchen, both nursing cups of coffee. Sam came by to see him on Dean's break. He throws himself into work a lot, ever since Castiel vanished, which was about three months ago.

"Dean, look at you." Sam says, exasperated. "Mom's getting worried. She wants me to talk to you."

"Yeah well it's not like I can tell her my angel boyfriend just flew on me right?" Dean snaps.

"Yeah, but you could tell her a story just as close." Sam hints.

"Are you saying I should lie to our mother?" Dean rolls his eyes.

"Yes." Sam says shortly.

"So what do you say I tell her?"

"Tell her you met someone in…I don't know…somewhere really far away?" Sam mumbles.

"Like heaven?" Dean jokes.

"I'm serious!" Sam frowns. "Tell her you met someone in uh…Louisiana! Skip out on details."

"That could work." Dean sighs. "Why do I even have to tell her anything?"

"Because when you pine, you're a total dick, Dean. It's kinda obvious."

"Bitch." Dean grumbles, swigging the last of his black coffee.

"Jerk."

Dean takes his advice though, and as he helps his mother wash the dishes in the kitchen that night, he waits for her to broach the subject as delicately as she can. She does not disappoint.

"Honey, is everything okay?"

Dean takes a rinsed plate from her and sets it in the dishwasher. "I guess."

"You just seem sort of sad lately." She says, gently.

Oh what the hell. He takes the bait. "Yeah well, Mom, truth is, I met someone."

"But that's great!" Trust Mom to be supportive. "Why the long face then?"

"Because he's all the way in Louisiana."

"Oh, wait, he?"

"Yeah. I'm uh…I'm gay I guess."

"So that's why you and Jo didn't work out?"

Dean stares at her. He just told her he was gay. How was she so cool with it? "Uhm yeah…."

Mom gazes at him sympathetically while washing and drying her soapy hands. Then she pulls him into a hug. "I'm sorry sweetie. This stuff is always hard. Did you fall in love with him?"

Dean's heart aches and his eyes prick. He hates lying to Mom and all he really wants right now is comfort. In that way, he's a little kid inside. "Yeah. He's amazing Mom. You'd really like him and so would Sam. He's kind of a geek, and he knows a lot, but he doesn't know shit about pop culture, I mean I had to tell him about Lord of The Rings, but Mom I love him and he's so far away and I don't know what to do…" Oh god, he was blabbering like a tween girl. Fuck. What is it about Mom that makes him get like this?

As he blubbs on her shoulder, Mom rubs soothing circles into his back. He's taller and bigger than she is, but he feels like the ten year old he was not too long ago in her arms. "I'd love anyone you bring home hon." Mom kisses his forehead. "I don't care that you're gay at all."

"Thanks Mom." Dean wraps his arms tighter around his mother and buries his face in her shoulder. He misses the way it used to be. Whenever he scraped his knees, he'd run to Mom and let her kiss the pain away. Castiel was always there, but when it came to comfort he always turned to his mother first. If only it was that easy now. If only his problems were limited to scraped knees and elbows, instead of broken hearts. Either way, it's a long time before he pulls away.

Every night, it's hard to sleep. Dean tosses and turns, unable to sleep. In a way it's productive. By day he works on cars in Bobby's auto-shop, and by night, he reads about ancient philosophy, which he's taken an interest in. Barely any information remains on pre-Socratic philosophers, and sometimes he wishes he could call Castiel up and ask him about it. His longing barrels into him at the most inconvenient times and places.

One day, he's in a random diner, just on the outskirts of Lawrence for Sunday lunch with Mom and Sam, when he orders a cheeseburger with a side of bacon, just like Castiel liked. He doesn't realize it until the waitress plops his food down in front of him, and countless memories of sitting in the motel with Castiel, gorging on fast food. Castiel always ordered the same thing; that angel loves cheeseburgers. Luckily no one notices him wipe away a tear surreptitiously before he picks up his cheeseburger.

Another time, he's going Christmas shopping in the clothes aisle, and he spots a tie that is exactly the colour of Castiel's eyes. It's sky blue but a little darker and textured. He buys it without a thought. Maybe Castiel will come home for Christmas this year. He needs to have a present for him just in case. He rubs his fingers along the tie, and hangs it up in his wardrobe. Castiel will be back. He has to be back.

At Christmas dinner, knowing how upset Dean still is, Mom makes cinnamon apple pie, Dean's favourite. As Dean cuts an extra slice for himself at 3AM in the morning, when everyone's asleep and he's feeling peckish, he thinks about how he and Castiel shared pie from every diner they ever stopped at in the Impala. He squeezes his eyes shut, and heaves a shuddering sigh, refusing to let himself cry. Opening his eyes with a renewed sense of determination, he tells himself there is no point in grieving. Why mourn when Castiel will be back? Allowing himself a small smile at the thought, Dean piles ice cream on his pie and takes it to the living room to watch late Christmas specials.

Dean gets mad while watching Brokeback Mountain, screaming at Ennis not to leave Jack when he could so easily be with him. After all, it's not as if they're dimensions apart. Sam is scandalized.

Sam makes him watch The Notebook and he teases Sam mercilessly for being a giant girl, but inside his heart aches and he misses Castiel. He'll be back, he continues to tell himself. Castiel always comes back.

Dean holes himself up in his room at the end of one year and watches A Beautiful Life. Sam refuses to watch any more movies with him, and this is good because at the end of it, the dam breaks. Dean grabs a pillow and bites into it as he sobs. Castiel is never coming back.

A year and a half drags by and on a usual work day, Dean meets a stranger passing through Lawrence. He's working alone in Bobby's Auto-Shop. Both Bobby and Rufus have taken the Saturday off, and Bobby called in a favour from Dean, so he's stuck working on a Saturday. Dean's puttering about in the engine of a silver Honda belonging to one of Dean's neighbours and he's pretty much done with it. He locks up the car, and looking up, he notices a man hovering at the entrance of the garage. He's dressed in a button down black shirt and jeans. Dean raises an eyebrow at him.

"Can I help you?"

"Um, I need to get my car looked at." The stranger smiles apologetically. "I'm sorry, you were working and I didn't want to disturb you." He moves forward, and Dean's breath catches. He has blue eyes. Not the intense, vivid cobalt of Castiel's irises, but still a lovely pale blue.

Dean grins. "No problem." He hangs up the keys to the Honda by Bobby's desk, and walks out to where the stranger's car is parked.

After a quick discussion about the car's carburetor, the conversation moves on to the various perks of engine oil, and the effectiveness of Armor-All on genuine leather.

"You sound pretty versed on cars." Dean asks curiously, as he pulls a rag from the back pocket of his jeans, and wiped his hands. "Why didn't you just do it up yourself?"

The other man laughs sheepishly. "You caught me out. I really just came in here for some engine oil. Then I saw you, and my mind just stopped working I guess."

Dean flirts with pretty much everyone, but he's never actually considered coming onto someone before. Not since Castiel anyway.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to have your car checked out by a professional once in a while." Dean smirks.

A smile slowly spreads across the man's face, and he holds out his hand. "The name's Kyle."

"Dean. I would take your hand, but I'm kinda greasy."

Kyle laughs, his blue eyes crinkling with warmth. "Gotcha." Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he clears his throat. "So hey, I'm going to be in Lawrence for the night, so do you want to grab some dinner across the street later?"

"I get off in about three hours. I'll close up and meet you in the diner?" Dean asks.

Kyle nods. "See you later Dean." Dean notes the way his heated gaze travels all the way up his body before he turns to leave. Dean gulps. He knows what he's getting himself into, and he kind of wants it. Part of him screams, as he gets back to work, that he's betraying Castiel, but Dean quashes it. Castiel is not going to be back, and Dean needs a one night stand. He needs to move on. At least that's what he'd going to tell himself. It has nothing to do with the fact that Kyle has blue eyes. Nothing whatsoever.

Dinner is a fairly quiet affair, nothing too wonderful. There's no immediate emotional connection, but it's not necessary. Dean knows both he and Kyle know exactly how the night is going to end and that's really all Dean wants. If Kyle had suggested skipping dinner in lieu of other more exciting activities, he still would've gone along with it.

By the time they get to Kyle's motel, Kyle's hand is already on his ass, and Dean is mouthing at his neck as he fumbles with the door. The door shuts behind them, and Kyle maneuvers him to the bed. Dean feels something solid knock against his knees and falls back heavily against the softness of the motel bed. Kyle lands heavily on top of him, knocking the wind out of Dean and he wheezes.

"Shit sorry!"

Dean chuckles a little breathlessly. "That's okay."

Kyle kisses him. It's nice but not great. It's a little too wet and sloppy, even though Kyle seems pretty experienced. It's not the way Castiel did it, slightly hesitant but dry and probing. Dean ignores that though and groans when Kyle palms his dick through his jeans. Kyle pulls Dean's jeans down so that they tangle around his legs and reaches for the lube on the bedside table. Kyle isn't patient and caring in the way he prepares Dean. He's hurried, but it still feels pretty damn good. All Dean can do is focus on his blue eyes, and pretend that's Castiel. He moans as Kyle adds a third finger, brushing up against his prostate, while he laps at the crown of his dick.

"Do it." Dean growls, and Kyle obliges, undoing his jeans, rolling on a condom and thrusting into Dean. It hurts at first. Castiel used to push in slowly and steadily, letting Dean get used to the feel of his cock stretching him, but Kyle starts ramming in as soon as he bottoms out. He hits against Dean's sensitive prostate again and again while jerking Dean off, and very soon, Dean is coming all over his stomach. His ass clenches, and soon Kyle's coming as well.

Kyle pulls out, and pulls off the condom, tying it and throwing it into the wastepaper basket beside the door. Dean sits up, and looks around, spotting a tissue dispenser. Grabbing some, he cleaned the sticky liquid off his stomach, and off his ass, while Kyle buttons himself up. They grin at each other as Dean does up his jeans.

"Um, thanks, I guess." Dean mumbles as he stands around awkwardly.

"Do you want to stay the night?" Kyle asks, but Dean can tell he's asking out of politeness.

"Nah, I gotta get back." Dean declines.

"Right, sure." Kyle nods, and Dean gives him a strained smile, and lets himself out.

Dean walks out, feeling strangely empty, instead of satiated. He remembers the name he'd mouthed as he came.

Cas.