Castiel's throat was unhelpfully tight as he adjusted his grip on his phone, trying desperately to calm himself.

"You're sure?" He cleared his throat, trying to rid his voice of the unprofessionally tense and excited tone. "Perhaps you should be speaking with Sam about this?"

"No. No, Sam can't… He's too… he's with Gabriel you know, he's all couple-y and happy and I need…" Dean trailed off, sounding exhausted. Castiel gripped the phone tighter to his ear, and nodded.

"We can meet in an hour, if you so wish. At the office?"

"Yeah. Thanks Cas, it… it means a lot."

"You're welcome." Castiel smiled, reluctant to hang up until he'd heard Dean's end of the line go dead. This was it. Finally, some progress. Dean was ready to admit, in a safe space, that he was gay. He was hoping to take steps towards telling his family, too. He trusted that, in the two and a half weeks until Thanksgiving, Castiel would be able to counsel him into the ability to share. This was definitely progress.

And a little pressure.

And, Castiel admitted to himself, inappropriately exciting. He dragged himself through the quickest shower and morning routine that he'd ever had, before swooping quickly across the street to his office. He had never been so glad to live close to work. He had got there even before Becky, and waited patiently in the reception for her. As soon as she came through the door, caught off guard by Castiel's unusually early presence, he walked briskly to his office.

"Hold all my calls and appointments. I have a very important meeting to hold. When Mr Winchester arrives, show him straight through."

"Oh," Becky grinned. "This is a Dean thing… have you nailed him yet?"

"Thank you, Rebecca."

"It's still Becky!" She called after him, finding her boss equal parts annoying and amusing.

(-*-)

Dean was flushed with an awkward smile, drumming his fingers against his thigh as Castiel helped him draw up a plan of what he wanted to say.

"So… what do gay people do? I mean… now I'm gay, what do I… I mean, I was always gay, but…"

"Being gay is not like being a vegetarian, Dean." Castiel smiled at him, finding Dean's childlike trepidation undeniably amusing. "There is no 'can' or 'cannot'. Your life is exactly the same, except now you don't have to hide your sexuality. You do whatever you always do, except now, you get to do it honestly, and hopefully with a man you care about."

Castiel watched Dean blush, apparently still getting used to the idea that Castiel was perfectly ok with whatever sexuality he chose. The blush was light pink, creeping up across his smooth skin, blotting out the faint, faded freckles that graced his cheeks, beneath those mossy green eyes…

Castiel needed to calm himself down, apparently.

"Now, this… what you'd like to say to your family, is there anything else you feel needs to be added?"

He handed the sheet of paper over to his client, and Dean scrutinised the overly neat lettering.

"This should be right… 'I'm thankful that I finally kicked a very bad relationship to the curb. I was with a guy who treated me bad, and I didn't have the confidence in myself to end it. But it was my friends and family who helped me through. And I want to thank Gabriel for introducing me to his brother, who… helped me with my issues…'" He looked up at Castiel, smiling at him with a sheepish but honest grin. Castiel nodded, reassuring Dean and gesturing for him to continue.

"And… I know that it's the loving support of my family and friends that will help me through this time. Because I want to say that… that I'm a homosexual."

"Good." Castiel nodded. "You don't seem too comfortable with it, though."

"It just… it's not the way I talk, you know?" Dean flashed another awkward smile before staring at his feet. "It sounds way too smart."

"You're an intelligent man, Dean. Those words came from you, I merely wrote them down…"

"Yeah, but you fixed them. Made them sound nice." Dean shrugged, folding the note and putting it in his pocket. "Forget it. It's no big deal. Look, I should probably get going, but I'll make an appointment for next week and… would you like to… as friends… you know, hang out some time?"

Castiel's higher reasoning screamed at him. No, no o this was not only unprofessional but a total violation of trust, not to mention an abuse of his position of authority, and Dean probably didn't even want anything romantic with Castiel anyway, so he really should just stay with his books and his hermetic life and let…

Except, cut in the voice that for some reason always sounded like Gabriel, if Dean really didn't want anything romantic with Castiel, then there'd be no harm in going out for a drink or two. Not to mention how therapeutic it could be for Dean to see his counsellor as a person, not a title.

Higher reasoning told the inner Gabriel that that really wasn't the point ant he knew it.

The inner Gabriel asked exactly what the point was.

Higher reasoning was so tied up in its own logic that it couldn't speak.

Castiel smiled up at Dean.

"I'd like that. We'll organise something soon."

(-*-)

Dean sat on the couch, sucking air in through his teeth. Sam was spending the night with Gabriel, which meant Dean was in the apartment on his own.

Sam was spending a lot of time with Gabriel lately, and Dean really didn't want to think about it any more than that.

So what was Dean going to do?

He could finish reading that Ian Banks book that Sam had got him for his birthday.

He could watch a movie.

He could log on to Sam's Xbox live account and turn his little avatar dude into a dudette.

Or he could put his hands down his pants and refuse to admit that he was thinking about Cas.

Nah, he thought, he'd done all that already. Apart from finishing the book. And the movie. And it was still only nine p.m. Fuck it, he decided, he was apparently a masochist as well as a homosexual. He grabbed his coat, keys and phone, sent out a quick text to the number that his hand found almost without his being aware of it, and headed to a nearby bar.

It wasn't like Cas would even be seen dead in a place like that anyway, Dean thought. His local bar was decorated as if the guy who made sets for Cheers had lost his wife, kids and dog on the same day he'd gotten beaten up by some biker dudes for not paying protection money; dismal, dim, and it only looked good if you saw it through one eye.

Not the sort of place you saw suit-wearing, quiet intellectuals.

Except, apparently, Castiel liked to defy convention. In a quiet, intellectual sort of way.

When he arrived, he took off his trenchcoat and folded it over the back of the chair, smiling a greeting at Dean, before consciously checking himself.

"What?"

"What?" Dean asked back, blinking a little too rapidly to be casual. Castiel looked from Dean to his shirt, smiling awkwardly.

"You were staring at me."

"No I wasn't." Dean said, earning himself an arched eyebrow.

"Dean, I spend all day around people who lie pathologically. What makes you think I would believe you?"

Dean shrugged, hailing a server.

"Your tie's all… undone. It's weird. You're… not office-y."

It was true. Castiel had pulled his tie loose, and opened his shirt to the collar bone, the effect of which meant that for some reason Dean couldn't stop staring at the pale, exposed skin of Castiel's neck. He blinked as the server put down two beers in front of them, and stared at that instead.

"I'm actually surprised that you asked me to join you," Castiel said, tasting the beer like he was some sort of connoisseur (he probably was, thought Dean, since Cas was apparently an expert on everything and that made him feel like an inch tall, and yes he was aware he'd swapped out one fundamental insecurity for another but fuck it, Cas said he was making progress and Cas would know), "given that you have an appointment tomorrow."

"I wanted some company." Dean shrugged. "I don't know anyone else good for conversation."

"I feel so appreciated." Cas said, his sarcasm still surprising Dean.

"Screw you." Dean advised, but not without smiling. "Drink, you need to catch up with me."

As if uttering some magic words, time suddenly seemed to jump forward, as they started talking about how their days had been, how their week had been, and how annoying both Sam and Gabriel were being in regards to the Thanksgiving dinner.

"I mean…" Cas composed himself, resting a hand on Dean's shoulder. It was more to stop himself falling over than anything, but he still felt a slight thrill as he touched the warm cotton of Dean's shirt. "I mean, I love Gabriel. He's my brother. And Sam seems like a perfectly nice young man… but if I hear one more word about how nervous they are that they're going to embarrass each other, I will make them wish I'd never been born."

"You mean make them wish they'd never been born."

"I know what I mean."

Shit, thought Dean, Cas could be dark when he wanted. He laughed into his beer, smiling a warped, alcohol skewed smile.

"Does that make me a bad person?"

"No. Hell no. at this point I just might join you." Dean giggled into his beer. "You know how weird it is, seeing a seven foot tall twenty five year old moon about making puppy eyes?"

"Can't be weirder than seeing Gabriel act like a five year old…"

"It's sickening. Just because they're… in love…" Dean pulled a face, which made Cas dissolve into laughter. The barman shot some choice glares at them, before looking pointedly at the clock.

"Shit… Cas, we better move. Think this guy wants to close up."

"Oh…" Castiel looked up at the clock, swaying slightly as he stood. "Yes… I hadn't realised it was late."

"It's not so late…" Dean shrugged. "Dude, I've got a six pack at home, want to help me finish it?"

"I shouldn't." Castiel shook his head as he struggled into his trench coat. They started walking towards the door.

"Why not?"

"It would be unper… unprofessional."

"You can barely say it."

"Exactly! I should go home."

"No… come drink some more with me and talk. Please?" Although his eyes swam with intoxication, Dean levelled Castiel with a look of rare honesty. "I could really do with a friend right now."

Castiel, knocked off guard by the sudden honesty, found himself slowly nodding.

"Ok."

(-*-)

They took the beers up to the roof, but only after Dean had sworn Cas to secrecy. Sam had his own ways to relax… bubble baths, working out, generally acting like he was Bridget Jones… The roof was Dean's secret.

"It's amazing." Castiel gasped, looking out over the strings of distant light that, in the daytime, would be unremarkable streets and windows. In the dark, they looked like fallen stars.

"Yeah." Dean sat on the edge, his legs hanging over the side of the building. Hesitantly, Castiel joins him. Dean stares into the distance, and Castiel makes no effort to interrupt. Eventually, his thoughts seemed to find a way down to his mouth.

"How did you do it?"

"Hmm?"

"When you… no, forget it, I'm way out of line."
"No, what was it?"

"Forget it."

"Dean." Castiel patted his arm, chinking their beer bottles together. "Whatever you ask, I won't be mad."

"When did you tell your parents? About… you know… being gay?"

"Ah…" Castiel shifted his weight, staring out at the horizon. Dean waved it aside.

"I shouldn't have asked. It was stupid. Out of line…"

"No, no, I want to tell you. You're a friend and… friends know things about each other." Castiel rolled his shoulders, squaring up to tell the story. "I… didn't exactly get to tell them. Gabriel did, and he went about it oddly well, all things considered. It was just the aftermath that he didn't cope so well with."

"Why didn't you get to tall them? They do know, right? I thought that was why you didn't speak to them."

"Yes, they know. I just…" Castiel rolled his shoulders, debating for a moment whether to delve into that particular memory. Dean's inquisitive eyes invited him to talk. "There was a boy. I had known since I was… probably about eleven. I had known there was something different about me. Gabriel came out when I was twelve, and… by the time I was fourteen, I knew for definite. I spoke with Gabriel… conspired, if you like…"

Castiel still remembered the phone calls, made in the dead of night, curled up underneath the table the phone was on, whispering into the receiver and fighting back terrified tears. Gabriel had assured him it wouldn't happen the same. They wouldn't yell and scream, wouldn't shut him out, wouldn't call people to drag him away to a correctional… Because Cas wasn't as stubborn as Gabriel. Never had been. They'd try to talk him out of it, they'd cry, but he'd be, ultimately, left to make his own choices.

"He told me what I should say, what I should do, but… I never got around to it. I put it off and put it off, until… One day they found me. My parents were visiting my school for… a sort of sports day, parent's day, call it what you will. I was very bad at sports, and I had faked an injury so I could sit in the changing rooms."

"Dark horse." Dean muttered, if only to break the tension. Castiel smiled, appreciatively, but couldn't bring his eyes away from the horizon.

"He was… his name was Martin Pickett. He wasn't a particularly good looking boy, but he was a friend, and… I loved him. He asked me if I was alright, said he'd noticed how tired I was. Was I sleeping alright. And I told him. I told him everything, about Gabriel's being disowned, Raphael's death… my parents… myself… and he held me. We… we kissed. It was… a fifteen year old's kiss, sloppy, nervous, but with an odd desperation. I remember exactly how it happened, every detail. But, then my father appeared, apparently he'd been told by the teacher that I was to be taken home if I couldn't compete. He saw me kissing Martin. And he left. I had to walk the half mile home, and when I got there, my possessions were all boxed and packed, waiting by the door. My father and mother were stood waiting for me, and gave me a simple ultimatum; either pretend it never happened and go about life as…'normal'…" he said the word with so much scorn, which was so unfamiliar with Castiel's voice. It sounded strange. "Or take whatever I had, take the money in my savings, and never go back. I went for the second option, took my things, and walked another half mile to the house Gabriel was staying in. They never tried to contact me. I think they blamed Gabriel for it. I know Gabriel feels that they did."

Dean stared at Castiel for a moment, processing the story.

"Wow. So… you haven't seen your family in… what, twenty years?"

"Fifteen, thank you, I'm not that old."

"Wow." Dean repeated, because he honestly didn't know what else to say. He lay an awkward hand on the other man's shoulder. "I'm sorry, man, that sucks."

"I've learned to live with it." Castiel shrugged, smiling sheepishly at Dean. "Although… it does mean I have become somewhat needy in terms of being reassured about a relationship."

"You and me both." Dean chuckled, relieved to see Cas wasn't about to break down in tears. "I mean… shit, dude, that's awful. When Sam told Bobby and Ellen… They'd kind of figured it out for themselves. Ellen offered to take him out somewhere and help him hook up."

"They sound like good people."

"They are."

"Then you have nothing to worry about." Castiel patted Dean's arm reassuringly, before stumbling to his feet and away from the edge of the roof. "I should really get home."

"It is kind of late, huh?" Dean pulled himself up, and pulled open the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes." Castiel swayed slightly as he stood. "I won't accept this as an excuse for lateness."

"Yes sir." Dean gave a mock salute, guiding Castiel down the stairs into the body of the building. They chatted and laughed, although neither of them really knew what they were talking about, until they reached the front door of the apartment building.

"See you tomorrow." Dean repeated, leaning against one of the doors as Castiel pulled open the other.

"Good night." Castiel grumbled back, returning Dean's drunken smile. Dean, who couldn't help but find the smaller man adorable in his drunken state, leant in and kissed him, smiling all the time. Or had Cas leant up to Dean? It didn't really matter, he supposed.

"Night." He smiled, before starting up the stairs. Castiel pulled the door open and started out into the night air.

Curiously enough, both men made it exactly nine paces before they realised exactly what had just happened. Both of them swore into the otherwise silent night, and spent the rest of the night wracked with guilt.