A/N: Okay it took me a while to decide what to do with it but I kinda merged the two ideas i think? anyway here's the important chapter PLEASE tell me what you think PLEASE i'll reward u with badly written daytime tv smut ayyy

Chapter Seven

They have a nice evening; Balthazar is good company, with his pleasant accent and vast collection of witty anecdotes. Cas laughs frequently, and only falls over twice, and when he does Balthazar picks him up and calls him a "twat" and pats him on the back. They have burgers at the plastic tables and Balthazar gets a bit of mustard on his face, but Cas doesn't tell him about it for a while because it makes him less intimidating.

By the time it reaches 8, they're putting on their shoes, sitting on those carpeted stools that line the walls in places like this, and Cas is feeling more relaxed. He had a nice time, a good way to spend a Friday night. It might have to be a week or two before he does it again, but it was nice, and he did it, and he doesn't regret it.

Balthazar opens the door for him as they leave, and Cas mumbles an awkward, "Thank you," as he slides past Balthazar's body, the other boy leaving him not quite enough space to walk through without touching. It's dark outside, the lone streetlight dim enough that Cas can't make out all the details of Balthazar's face, casting his eyes into shadow.

They stand outside the doors, and Cas says, "Well, I have to go. I had a nice time."

"Why do you have to go again?"

"Dean is waiting for me."

"Oh, well in that case." Balthazar takes Cas's hand and pulls him along, past the lights into the alley just beside building. Cas glances around him, but there's no one around, only a few cars in the parking lot, and they step out of sight as Balthazar presses Cas up against the cold brick wall.

Of course, he panics. How could he not panic in a situation like this? He's in a dark alley and there is a guy who is stronger than him and oh god is he gonna get stabbed –

"Sorry, but I've been wanting to do this all evening," Balthazar says, and his voice is different, and Cas isn't that dumb, he knows what's up, and he's still as terrified as he was when he thought he was gonna get stabbed, but the fear paralyses him and he can't move and so he stands there with wide eyes and one hand in his pocket while Balthazar leans in and kisses him.

He closes his eyes as fingers tangle into his hair and the old rain on the wall behind him seeps into his jacket and without meaning to he brings his hands up to Balthazar's face, feeling smooth skin and no trace of stubble and oh yeah, he's being kissed. This isn't his first, but it's the best one he's had, in the almost complete blackness of the alley with nothing but two thin layers of clothing between his body and the blonde boy's.

They stay like that for a few minutes, Cas trying to keep up with the way Balthazar's lips move while the latter runs his hands all over Cas's body and Cas tries not to say "sorry" all the time, and in the end Balthazar pulls away with a cocky smile and says, "Alright, love, you should go."

Cas just stares at him with his mouth open. "I. Uh. I."

Balthazar's smirk deepens. "Ah, that's a good sign. Oh, I think that's your little boyfriend over there," he says, pointing towards the parking lot. It becomes evident to Cas that the car that's been there for the last ten minutes is Dean's Impala, parked with the headlights on low, just enough that the acts in the alley aren't so much secret as mysterious. Cas finds himself blushing immediately. He can't see Dean, he's too far away, but he's already embarrassed.

Balthazar follows his line of sight and says, "Well, this was a lovely evening. See you on Monday." He tilts Cas's chin up with his finger to kiss him again, before winking and swanning off towards his car.

Cas stands there watching the car leave and waving as it does, which is really just an excuse for him to mutter "oh my god oh my god oh my god" under his breath without Dean hearing him. Eventually, he clenches his fists firmly by his sides and walks towards the car, avoiding Dean's eye as he slips into the passenger seat.

"Hey there," Dean says, putting on his seatbelt and starting the engine.

"Hi." Cas's voice is tight and he coughs a little.

"How was your evening?"

"Good, yeah."

"Good."

They pull out onto the road. Cas stares straight ahead, at all the stars he didn't notice before, and feels his body warming up, his shivers stopping gradually. He risks a glance to the left and sees Dean's lips pressed in a firm line and god, he doesn't want to go home, he wants to stay in this car with his best friend and feel that buzz under his skin, the high that comes from someone liking you enough to spend time with you, let alone kiss you.

"Can we drive around for a little bit?" Cas asks quietly.

"Why?"

"I just feel really good right now."

"I really gotta get home, Cas." Dean's voice is blunt and unfeeling, and just as Cas is about to reply, Dean pulls over and says, "We're here."

Cas looks out. His house is outside the car.

"Oh. Great. Thanks." Cas smiles, and Dean smiles back and says, "Night, Cas," which basically forces him out of the car.

Cas stands on the sidewalk and watches the car drive off, feeling very different as to how he did a few minutes ago. Now he's just alone and cold and confused.

He doesn't think much of it though, going inside and to bed almost immediately after he does his homework. His head swims with new information and different feelings and he doesn't know whether he should smile or frown so he does neither.

The next morning, around ten, he calls Dean, and it goes to voicemail after a few rings. The next time it doesn't even ring. Or the next time. Or the next time.

He wants to just drop round his house, but Dean might not even be there, and the last thing Cas wants is to meet Dean's father right now. Then he remembers that he has Sam's number, given to him in a flurry of "see you soon"s, and he calls.

Sam, unlike his brother, picks up on the first ring. "Hey, Castiel!"

"Hello, Sam. Is it alright if I come over at some point? Dean isn't answering my calls, I want to know whether I've upset him in some way." He's pacing as he talks. Phone calls have never been his specialty.

"Sure! My dad's out at the moment and I can go for a walk. Just text me when you've left."

"Thank you. Is Dean there at the moment?"

"Yeah."

"How is he?"

"It's ten fifteen, dude. Dean isn't up yet."

Cas laughs. "Right. Will he mind?"

"Nah, I'll wake him up with a beer. He never minds when I do that. See you around, Cas. Good luck."

"Thanks, Sam. Bye." He hangs up and throws the phone on the bed and makes a strangled noise. The usual post-call thoughts like that went terrible oh my god I have the worst voice he didn't know what I was saying oh it's over oh are quieter this time.

He has no one to tell that he's leaving, so he just picks up his jacket and leaves the house, taking his bike and heading towards Dean's house, which he's been to precisely once, but knows exactly where it is.

The Day Before

Dean sits in the car outside the roller skating place, or whatever those things are called, and waits. His hands lie on the steering wheel, fingers tapping the underside in time with the George Thorogood track. Who do you love? the song asks him repeatedly, and he doesn't reply.

The clock on the dash turns to 7:56 and he's considering popping the glove compartment, grabbing the lighter and setting something on fire just to have something to do. Cas is his newfound best friend and all, but he's a man with a short attention span, and a car that smells like feet, thanks to Sam's gym bag sitting in the boot. It's a tiny smell, one that Cas won't notice, but Dean's fine tuned to his baby and he knows when the usual smell of leather and stale cigarettes is corrupted. It's a delicate ecosystem.

7:58 and the doors open. Dean's hand instinctively goes to the ignition, eager to get out of there, but it's just another dark haired boy. This one is with a woman. Okay, but, Dean's not gay. No, but like, he's not. He likes women. He checks out the blonde walking from the building and raises his eyebrows at the ass she's packing so he's not gay, right? Yeah. That's what that means.

When he looks at the ass of the boy she's with he feels nothing. So he's not gay.

But a little voice in the back of his head reminds him that it's not Cas's ass he's really interested in. It's his eyes, and his smile, and the way he's the only person Dean knows who sincerely bites his lip when he's thinking instead of just trying to be coy. His laugh is so soft and sometimes so strong and he's so nervous about everything which is really rather refreshing in Dean's life of passive aggression, and it's just, just something about the air around him that demands to be filled with Dean's body and he's been ignoring it until now but he's in the car on his own and the passenger seat is empty and it's really dark outside and god he wishes Cas would come outside already, and that the prospect of a sleepover wasn't just a cover story.

Fuck, he's in trouble.

8:01. The doors open again. And that's definitely Cas.

He's smiling, which is a good sign. Come out of a date with a face like death and it's gone sideways for sure. Bathazar's smile is a lot bigger, and he's asking Cas something, from the way he shrugs. Cas answers, and then Balthazar takes his hand and pulls him into the alley beside the building.

Dean blinks. He can't see where Cas went, the area is enveloped in darkness, so he inches the car closer and turns on the headlights in order to catch a glimpse of what's going on. Balthazar could be murdering Cas or something, have him up against the wall in a chokehold.

But the headlights go on and, while Cas is being pinned against a wall, he's not being murdered. Although the way he's flailing he does look like he's dying. And from the look on Dean's face he probably looks like it, too.

It was ridiculous of Dean to misinterpret things. Of course Cas wasn't interested in him. The way he always got red in the face around him was just his social anxiety, not Dean. His shaking, sweaty hands wasn't Dean, either. And the person kissing Cas into oblivion isn't Dean, either.

It was silly to even entertain the possibility of them being together. It was silly to not think about anything else since they'd gone to lunch the day they met.

Cas and Balthazar break apart and Cas looks all flustered, and his mouth is hanging open while Balthazar is grinning like a twat, and Dean has to clench his fist so hard that he feels his fingernails cutting into his palm even though they're bitten all the way down.

Cas spots him then, blushing harder, and Dean's at least relieved that this will be over soon when Balthazar kisses Cas again and Cas waves his car off and Dean can't take it, he says "fuck fuck fuck fuck" under his breath and allows his voice to break so that he can keep it together when Cas is in the car. But he knows right after that, he's gonna go home, shut himself in his room, and it's not gonna be pretty.

Now

Cas doesn't really think on the way to Dean's house, a relapse of last night; too many thoughts, too many variables, too many things to worry about. He just kind of concentrates on where to go and the ache in his legs and the wind on his face.

Dean's house is where it always is, on that street surrounded by all those other houses. Cas approaches it nervously, locking his bike to the fence that surrounds the place. He stands looking at the building for a few seconds, working up the nerve to go in, but then he realises it's very likely that Dean knows he's out there, so he jogs up to the front door and knocks.

It opens almost immediately and there's Dean, in jeans and a white t-shirt and grey socks, holding the beer Sam mentioned, and wearing a very unimpressed look. "It's eleven in the morning, what are you doing," Dean asks flatly.

"You wouldn't answer my calls."

"I was asleep."

"You turned your phone off on me."

"I was asleep." Dean takes a deep breath and looks past Cas to the garden.

"What was up with you last night?" Cas blurts, but he's glad he asked, because that's the reason he's here.

Dean doesn't react. "What?"

"You were being weird. It was weird."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean walks away, into the house, and Cas follows, closing the door behind him, and he doesn't care if he's being rude right now.

"Dean, you have to admit, you're not exactly acting like yourself."

Dean just rolls his eyes, getting another beer from the fridge and drinking half of it right in front of Cas. "You know what?" Dean asks eventually. "Why don't you just leave? I didn't ask you to come round." He shakes his head, running a tired hand through his tired hair. "Just go home, Cas."

"Put the beer down and let's talk."

"Just get out!" Dean yells, pointing the hand with the bottle in it towards the door. His face is full of anger and frustration and something inside Cas snaps.

"What is your problem, Dean?" Cas shouts, completely unlike himself now, being whatever he has to be in order to get answers.

"It's you!" Dean shouts back, voice catching as if his throat is trying to stop the words from coming out, but Dean's eyes are fierce and sad and there's no going back. "It's you, and I don't know why it's you, but every time I see you I just feel like – like I'm exploding, like I'm on fire, and –" His voice falters and he takes a deep breath, running his hand through his hair for the millionth time. "God, that Balthazar kid. You have no idea how angry it makes me, how much I just wanna grab your shoulders and just – make you mine."

"Then do it," Cas says, voice back to normal, steady and low and calm but with a quiet twist of something deep, warm caramel, dripping with suggestion.

Dean starts, blinking. "What?" he snaps.

"Do it," Cas repeats, arms hanging loosely by his sides.

Dean looks at him for the whole of four seconds before striding forwards and, with the force of weeks of frustration, kissing him.

It's nothing like before, nothing like being cold and paralysed in an alley. It's warm and sweet and his whole body, the surface of everything burning up and Dean's touch sending the feeling deep into his core, to settle into his bones, his blood, his everything, and Cas just gets lost in it, like a labyrinth where the sky is Dean's eyes and the walls are made of plaid shirts and the ground is him, so solid and he just wants to lie down on it and he's not making sense but he's grasping Dean's shirt in his fist and Dean wraps his arms around Cas's neck in a gesture that's so surprising and comforting that he just presses himself into it, lining their bodies up, contact in every place possible, and Dean pushes forwards with his hips and leans Cas against the counter, and Cas feels Dean's weight resting on him and that means something to him, that's something, he trusts him, and he understands why Dean was so angry and cold because he's been feeling that same frustration ever since they first met.

It all slows down a bit after a while, from fast, sloppy kisses to slow, careful ones. Eventually Cas leans back and opens his eyes and sees how red Dean's mouth is and how messy his hair is and his blown pupils and dumb smile and thinks, I did that. It's a good feeling, better than the anonymous buzz from kissing someone. This is the high from it meaning something.

"Hi," Cas says awkwardly, and Dean just laughs, because Cas has changed, but he hasn't changed that much.

"Sorry I yelled at you," Dean says, leaning his forehead on Cas's.

"It's okay."

"Sorry I asked you to leave."

"No really, it's okay."

"Don't leave."

Cas smiles and says, "Yeah, okay," before kissing him again.