A/N: Sorry about the lack of update, I was in Idaho for the past few days and only got back yesterday.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hallelujah, although I think it's a wonderful song.

Truth be told, Castiel was surprised by the knowledge that Dean played guitar. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Because when he thought about it, he could easily see Dean playing the guitar. But he wasn't aware that the hunter would have enough time to teach himself something like that. Something that took a lot of time that didn't contribute to hunting at all.

So when Cas heard some music coming from Dean's room, it took him a moment to realize it was Dean, not a record or CD.

Driven by curiosity, he headed to Dean's room, and stood outside to watch. Dean didn't know he was there, which meant he was playing like he was alone, leaning into the notes as his nimble fingers danced along the neck of his guitar, playing chord changes that went up and then back down. Up and back down.

Then Dean began to sing, and his voice was actually not bad. It was warm and smooth, like whiskey and seemed almost effortlessly perfect. No, Castiel wasn't giving him credit, Dean's voice was very nice.

The chords changed, and Dean sang. "Hallelujah, hallelujah…."

Cas closed his eyes and listened, listened to the words and the notes. To the music.

"Your faith was strong, but you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you." A pause and a dramatic sounding ascension from the guitar. "She tied you to a kitchen chair, she stole your throne, she cut your hair. And from your lips, she drew the hallelujah."

The song sounded more religious than the songs Dean liked, especially because of the chorus. But it was nice, and it suited Dean's singing style perfectly.

He leaned, too, in time with the chords, and watching him was like watching a dancer carry himself across a stage.

"Maybe I've been here before, I know this room, I've walked this-" Dean stopped suddenly, the note hanging in the air. Unresolved, unfinished.

Cas frowned, and only then did he realize Dean was watching him, green eyes narrowed accusingly.

"Dean," Cas acknowledged, hoping that Dean wasn't angered by him.

"Were you listening to me, Cas?" Dean asked, sounding dangerously calm.

"Yes," Cas admitted.

Dean blinked, and then set his guitar down. He looked away, and his shoulders slumped slightly. "Oh," he said, quietly. Apparently, his song was not meant to be heard.

Cas didn't know whether or not he should stay or leave. He figured Dean would want him to leave, but something in him insisted that he not leave. He opted for the latter, and moved closer to Dean, taking a seat on the bed beside him. He was curious, having never played a musical instrument before, about how a guitar worked. He also figured Dean would be more comfortable if Cas made a fool of himself on Dean's instrument, but he wouldn't mention that, if Dean asked.

"Can I see that?" Cas asked, gesturing toward the guitar.

Dean looked at him, calculating, and then handed it over. "Don't break it," he muttered, but it was quiet.

Cas held it stiffly in front of his chest, watching Dean's face carefully for a reaction. He was doubtlessly holding it wrong, and Dean noticed. He blinked, and reached out a hand to the body of the instrument, lifting it and twisting it so that it rested almost parallel to Cas's stomach and chest. It felt much, much more comfortable than how he'd had it before. "Thanks," he said.

Dean didn't answer, merely watching as Cas's thumb moved to one of the strings and he plucked idly at it. The sound Cas created was nowhere near as pleasant sounding as any of Dean's, it was too loud and too forceful, managing to sound off even though there was nothing really wrong with it.

Dean winced, then said, "Be more gentle. Softly pull on the string, don't yank it around. It'll sound better."

Cas tried, not applying nearly as much force. It sounded similar, but not as grating, and Cas could tell from Dean's face that that wasn't quite what he should be going for, but for now, it was close enough.

"Dean, how do I…" He trailed off, pressing his fingers to the strange golden colored lines on the neck of the guitar. It was, seriously, like trying to learn a foreign language.

With a small scoot closer, Dean pressed his own fingers to the neck of the guitar, to the area between the golden bands. "Uh… I wouldn't even know where to begin, Cas. Do you want me to just show you Hallelujah?"

"Was that the song you were singing?" Cas asked.

"Yeah."

"That sounded nice."

Dean smiled slightly. "Well, Cas, first you gotta make the C chord." Dean's hand directed Cas's fingers to where they needed to go, his third finger above the third little gold line, on the second lowest string. "Press down hard, or it'll sound muted," Dean warned, and Cas pressed down as hard as he could, ignoring the biting of the string into his fingers that weren't used to it.

His second finger went one string higher, one little gold band higher. Cas pressed down just as hard. His first finger went on the second to highest string, and right above the first little gold line. He was immensely pleased with himself, even though he hadn't really achieved much of anything.

"Play the fifth, the fourth, the third, the second, and then go back to the third, and the fourth," Dean instructed. "Like so." He played the aforementioned strings, and although Cas didn't feel very comfortable with it, it sounded alright.

Cas tried, plucking the strings. It was relatively simple, but it sounded heavy and clumsy when Cas played, instead of soft and elegant when Dean played.

"Now," Dean moved his third finger, to the string one higher than his second finger that had previously been unoccupied. He placed it above the second golden line, and said, "This is A minor. Play the same strings as before."

Cas obeyed, and it was a little faster than the first chord he'd tried because he remembered how to do it. Still nowhere near as good as Dean.

"Now back to C," Dean instructed, face carefully blank of all expression. When Cas looked at him blankly, Dean grinned slightly and said, "Keep the first two fingers where they are, move the third finger back to the third fret of the fifth string."

"Fret?"

"It's those golden bar things."

"Oh."

Cas moved his finger back, and played the strings again.

"Back to A minor." Cas obeyed, and didn't think the song could be very hard at all until the next chord came around.

"Now C again."

Cas did that pretty easily, and was right about to start feeling a little proud of himself when-

"F is going to be a tricky one, Cas." Dean frowned. "And there's only a couple ways to do it. The easiest would be to… uh…" Dean faltered, then reached a hand out for Cas's hand, moving Cas's fingers himself. His third finger moved up a string, his second finger moved up a string, and his first finger stayed in the same place.

"Cas, stretch your first finger so that it holds down the first and the second string." Dean pressed Cas's finger down, and it was twice as uncomfortable as the other fingers. As soon as Dean's hand left, Cas's finger lifted off one of the strings.

"Yeah, I figured that would happen." Dean said with a light laugh, moving his hand back. Cas looked away from the guitar, and stared at Dean, and Dean looked back. They were sitting so close to each other, Cas could feel Dean's warm breath and see the unguarded, honest look in Dean's eyes.

They locked gazes for an embarrassingly long time, and when Dean coughed and cleared his throat and Cas dropped his eyes, he still couldn't get rid of the weird, fluttering sensation in his stomach.

Dean reached out and gently took his guitar back, setting it on his own leg and fingering one of the chords he'd shown Cas. He picked the chord, going up and down for a second, then his fingers shifted and he began singing again, "Maybe I've been here before, I know this room, I've walked this floor, I used to live alone before I knew you."

Cas leaned fractionally closer to Dean, and his lips turned up in a small smile.

"I've seen your flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah." Dean closed his eyes, and started leaning back and forth with the rise and fall of the chords.

"Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah." He drew out the last one, and with one last, lingering strum, he opened his eyes and looked up at Cas, a grin plastered onto his face.

"Dean?"

"Mmmm?"

Cas didn't really know what to say. But he figured, since he'd gotten Dean's attention, he had to do something, so he leaned closer, let his smile widen, and said, "That was wonderful."

Dean's grin turned to something more heartfelt and honest, and he looked away. "Thanks, Cas," he said quietly.

The silence that wrapped between them was the most comfortable silence either of them had ever experienced.

A/N2: If you're curious, I tried to keep it as realistic as possible, so those are the real chords that I use to play Hallelujah. There's a lot of different strumming patterns, and what I used in the story was a simplification of the version I think sounds best.

Shoutout to the people who play guitar in the Supernatural fandom.

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