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With a sigh Dean pushed the kid back into the room and shut the door behind them. He didn't need this kid to let the whole damn floor know with his big mouth. Moodily, turned back to face him, putting his hands on his hips. Dean was about to yell when his eyes were caught by the posters covering the walls. He blinked as he took it all in. Musicals, rock shows, movies. It was an impressive OCD-like set up of a movie hoarder's dream. DVD's covered his bookshelf and the floor and the boxes under his bed, collectables in pristine cases on his shelves. The bed was made and the floor was spotless and everything was put in perfectly orderly place. Even the open laptop on his polished desk was dust free. He looked back to this kid, nodding in surprise, and saw he was being stared at.

"Look," Dean said firmly, squinting at him a bit. "What me and my friend do together is nobody's business, all right? We're not bothering anybody and don't plan to. So tell me who you are and what your problem is, and I'll be on my way."

Shy, nervous, but still ready to stand up for himself, the anxious blonde looked like he'd just been watching a movie when Dean came knocking. His TV was paused on a frame of Captain America – one of his many posters, too – and his hair was ruffled up, as were his clothes. His bed had a single crumpled blanket on it, his pillow collection organized easily to support him upright when he sat down. A box of Cheese-It's were leaning against the wall, balanced on his comforter. A Mountain Dew was beside it. Although lounging looked to be his favorite hobby, he wasn't pudgy at all. His legs were pretty thin and his waist was incredibly so, but he did have pretty broad shoulders. He had a baby face with big, expressive eyes, shielded only by fear, and a curl to his lips. His nervous hands shifted under sleeves too long for him, and his khaki shorts hung off his hips lop-sided.

"Samandriel," the kid was determined not to look like a total wuss. He refused to back down; Dean would give him props for that. "And I… don't have a problem with you guys being… whatever you want to be." He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. There were reds and blues and awkward tans on his striped shirt, making it look like a '70s nightmare.

"Then what is it, Sam?" Dean questioned, getting shivers just relating this kid to his little brother. "Cause you made Castiel feel pretty damn bad tonight, and he's got enough to worry about without you giving him grief. Why did you watch us? You like him or something?" His anger crept into his tone. The wide-eyed look he received froze on Samandriel's face like he just got called out on camera, on national television. That was proof enough. Dean lifted his eyebrows. "You do." Jealousy and anger pricked at him.

"I-I-" Samandriel stammered, fidgeting under Dean's stare. He tightened his arms over his chest and his humiliation made his face beet red. "I didn't mean to, all right?" He snapped. "I heard you guys when I came in to wash my dishes. I wanted to know if it was really the two of you. I've been... hearing you… for a while."

"Yeah, I figured that. You kept sending Ricky after us," Dean shot back.

Samandriel's face contorted in anger. "I thought you were hurting Castiel," he barked, making Dean's anger plummet again. "So I was concerned! I made a few calls! I honestly thought you were beating him, I – I was worried." Licking his lips, he calmed down, shrugging loosely, "When I heard you two in the bathroom, I wanted to see if I could make it look like an accident that I opened Cas's stall door and saw his bruises, and report you." He swallowed. "When I saw how you two were together, in the same shower, shaving…" He looked up. "I realized how stupid I'd been."

Dean stared at him. "You mean to tell me," he blurted, "you were worried I was beating up Castiel?" He blinked as a thought touched his mind. Castiel… How did Samandriel know his name? "Wait, do you… know him?"

"Yes. I went to high school with him." Samandriel ran his fingers through his hair and walked off, pacing in the room. His socks padded over the thin carpet. "He barely noticed who I was. Martius commanded his attention ever since we were kids. I knew he would figure out it was me eventually living right next to him, but he was never really aware of me. I just wanted to help him if he was in trouble." At the last bit, he turned and made a helpless motion with his arms at Dean, guilty but taking responsibility, which got him brownie points.

Dean nodded, looking at the floor. "Well, he's just fine," he said gently, looking at the kid. "I take pretty good care of him. I'm glad you want to protect Castiel – that's all right with me, I'm glad for it. I thought you were some damn creeper trying to mess with him." He held out his hands. "But as you can see, I'm not abusive. And you're not a creeper?"

Samandriel nodded briefly, glancing him over. "Definitely not. You're…?" He pursed his lips.

"Dean. Dean Winchester," Dean reached out and shook his hand. Sam wiggled one arm from being tightly stuck against his chest and closed warm fingers around Dean's. "I'm new 'round these parts. Any friend of Cas's, you know the routine. Nice to know our neighbor."

"Dean. I'm sorry I thought the worst of you," Samandriel said quietly, giving him a sheepish look. "I really feel like a jackass." When he got his hand back, he tucking it under his arm again shyly.

"It's ok. Really. Looking out for Cas is a big job, I know." Dean flashed him a smile back. "I know I look pretty sketchy too, so. It's just good to know I have a partner in crime. Do me a favor, though? No more freakin' peep sessions. I mean I look damn good naked, but Cas doesn't like it."

Samandriel suppressed a grin, nodding, as if his regular humor was peeking through the anxiety. "No problem. Didn't mean to in the first place - that was really an embarrassing accident." He laughed and glanced at Dean. "So you guys are…?"

"Together." Dean nodded. "Sorry if we make a lot of noise. We try not to."

Samandriel just shook his head. "It's, uh, it's ok. It's cool. You seem like a cool guy, and I know Cas is a good guy too, so I'm not holding it against you." He rubbed his neck, "I upset Cas, huh?"

"Yeah, you did. He got really sensitive. When they bullied him at school, you know... It takes a bit of convincing to get his mind away from those ideas. But it back-wheeled him when you caught him off guard."

"I remember." Samandriel looked off. "I should apologize."

"Yeah, and say hi." Dean got a surprised look. "Really, man, Cas needs a friend. Maybe he'll appreciate the company. I can tell you care about him – that's all you need, man."

Samandriel stared at him a little, a small smile on his face. "Yeah, all right. I might work up to it when I get the right time. Thanks, Dean."

Dean nodded. "Anytime," he winked, "Take care, kid. I'll see you around, ok?" He left him with a small wave, going to his own room. At once he heard the movie resume behind the closed door.

When his door was shut behind him he sighed, sinking into his desk chair. At least it was another friendly face; they'd been damn lucky about that so far. But Samandriel. What kinda name was that?

And how long had he liked Castiel? Dean didn't like that. I mean, he was really attached to Cas, they were… intimately in need of one another. The thought of anyone trying to part them made him intensively furious. He took out his homework and checked his watch. He had a good amount of time left. He needed to calm down. So that kid was crushing on Cas; he'd gotten that and loads more off him vibe wise. He felt half jealous and half pretentious, like he got Castiel only after a few months, when Samandriel had liked him since high school and had never been with him.

He marinated in his pride for a while in order to banish his jealous emotions. His homework got finished, and he was reading ahead for his bible class when he glanced down at his watch. Time to go get Cas. Feeling much easier, he left the building and climbed into his car and slid off into the night, wondering how to break this Samandriel news to Castiel.