I figured you guys would like some plain old Dean/Cas interaction. This chapter is not in the least bit sexy. It is pure friendship playful banter awesome stuff.

Thank you for your support in the story so far.

I said I wouldn't probably update again until Sunday. I have now updated twice. I lied.

Dean and Cas fell comfortably back into the old routine, but now, with texting added in.

While Dean was at work, he'd get teased for checking his phone every five minutes, and Cas would die multiple times trying to reply back. (Dean knew this because he complained about it constantly). They talked about everything from music, (Cas didn't know any of Dean's) to art, (Dean didn't understand that at all, but he liked it when Cas talked about it), to other games Cas had been playing.

So, what do you do for a living, Dean? I've supplied you with my information, it's only fair that you would return the favour.

What, the all-mighty hacker can't find that info on the internet? I'm disappointed in you, Cas.

Dean threw the rag he'd been cleaning the car with onto a table. It was covered in crease-coated tools and rags already, so he figured one more couldn't hurt. He gave a large stretch, yawning, his phone clutched tightly in his hand as was usual these days. He heard the chatter of his coworkers from behind him, and the clanging of tools as somebody threw something onto the table. He turned, seeing Garth dusting off his hands.

"Wow Dean, you've been really attached to that phone the last few days. I would complain, but you've been working an awful lot faster and looking happier than ever." Garth said, leaning on the table with a beaming smile. That wasn't unusual for Garth; he could often be seen with a skip in his step and a twinkle in his eyes. Dean didn't think he was all that bad.

"Have I? I didn't even notice." Dean admits, truthfully. He feels a little bit self-conscious, as if Garth somehow knew who he was talking to. Garth, of course, knew no such thing.

Dean felt his phone vibrate in his hand, and he immediately checked it, without thinking.

Well, I figured that would be invasive. If you refuse to tell me, I suppose I'll take to the internet. Then again, I'd be slightly concerned that you may be a porn star. You're not in a sketchy profession, are you, Hunter?

If you find automotive repair sketchy, then yes. Dean typed out quickly, turning back to Garth. Another dopey smile had stretched across his face when he read Cas's response, and Dean felt a little bit like he had just shown something to Garth that Garth shouldn't have seen. He didn't know why he felt like that; Cas was just his friend, so why should their conversations be kept private? He was funny and Dean liked to talk to him. Their times on the phone shouldn't make him feel jumpy.

"Are you talking to your girlfriend? " Garth demanded, drawing out the word. The wrinkles around his eyes increased as he smiled even larger. Dean honestly didn't know how to respond, and he could feel his face heating up uselessly.

"Dude, when did this become middle school?" He mumbled, as his phone rung again. A second time, he checked, without even thinking about it. It had become routine by now.

Only if you're repairing cars that have, in your own words, "pimped out like twelve girls". Yes, I would call that sketchy. Dean snorted, remembering what he had said when Cas first picked out his terribly unclassy car. They were still driving that thing around. Even in the game, it was embarrassing.

That is more than likely not exactly what I said. Dean texted back. He looked up to see Benny coming over, and he flinched just a little bit inside. He had a bad feeling about where this was going...

"What's so interesting over here?" He asked, taking off his cap and setting it on the table. Garth turned back with mischief in his eyes, smiling at Benny like he smiled at everyone. Benny looked just as unphased as usual.

"Dean's texting somebody and smiling like an idiot. I think it might be his girlfriend. " Garth said, turning back to Dean. Benny's eyebrows rose, and his gaze turned to Dean, too.

"Winchester, you have a girlfriend? Why haven't you told us about her?" Benny asked. "Is she ugly?"

"No, she's not ugly!" Dean spat, before he could stop himself. Both the others shared a look, and he quickly tagged on, "Because she doesn't exist, okay?"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. I'm sure she has a gorgeous personality." Garth said. Dean let out a groan, bringing a hand up to his face and rubbing it there. He knew that he was probably leaving grease all over the place, (it was already in patches all over the flannel he was wearing) but he didn't care at the moment. He was frustrated with all of the scrutinty.

"If she's not ugly, why aren't you telling us about her?" Benny questioned. Just then, his phone rang again. Dean saw Benny's eyes flicker to it, and he had exactly three seconds topanic before Benny was around the table.

Benny grabbed Dean's wrist, pulling him against his chest. Dean wiggled away, managing to sprint a couple of steps before he was caught again, this time by Garth, who had gone around the other way. Dean wiggled out of that one and turned around, forgetting in his panic that Benny was still there. He wanted to use his karate on them, or any of his fighting training, but he was afraid he would leave permanent damage. The hesitation in his next move gave Benny the advantage that he needed; Dean found his head in a lock, and his phone being forcibly ripped from his grasp.

"Angel, huh? No girlfriend my ass, Winchester." Benny said, giving a small chuckle. Dean was glad as heck that he had a lock on his phone, or else he just knew that Benny would have unlocked it and read through his messages. Finally, he shook his way out of the head lock, glaring at both Benny and Garth for putting him in that situation.

The thought, I came out to have a good time and honestly I am feeling so attacked right now, may or may not have crossed his mind.

I can't be sure exactly, but it was something along those lines. Well, do you fix those kinds of cars? I can't be involved with a drug dealer. They could kidnap me and hold me for ransom. Cas had said.

"We're just friends. Angel is my nickname for them." Dean said, automatically slipping into gender-neutral pronouns. He didn't want them to find out that Cas was male; he had a feeling the teasing would start right then and there. Or, even worse, the speech about "accepting him no matter what" and all that. Chick-flick stuff.

"Alright then boys, leave him alone and get back to your jobs." Came the voice of Bobby. Dean turned and looked at him like he was his own personal guardian angel. "Break is twenty seconds from being over and if I don't see all of you idjits working on a new car in that time, I'm going to make sure none of you see the light except through an engine or a flashlight for the next six hours."

"Isn't going that long without giving us a break against regulations?" Garth asked. Only from him could a sentence like that sound as if he was honestly curious, rather than being rebellious or testing his limits.

"Would you like to find out?" Bobby asked. Garth shrugged, smile still on his face, and walked away. Bobby turned to Dean, and his phone incriminatingly rang in his hand. Bobby's eyes flickered to it, and Dean was almost certain that he was going to tell him to put it away until the end of the day. His heart sank down to his feet. "I'm only letting you get away with texting on the job because you've been working faster the last few days. Slow down and I will not hesitate to make you leave your phone in my office until it becomes an artifact. Are we clear?"

Dean eagerly nodded his head, sighing in relief. Bobby turned around, and he immediately checked his messages. Of course, in that situation, I would trust you would have me returned safely.

What, like when the prince saves the princess from the dragon? Dean questions.

I don't understand that reference. And find that statement quite sexist. I believe the princess would be more than capable of saving the prince from the dragon, should he be abducted.Angel responded.

Well, of course. I was just- never mind. Wait, are you implying that I'd still be the princess? Really, dude? Dean questioned.

Just then, another car pulled up, needing to have all four tires replaced. He frowned at the condition of the old ones before propping the car up, taking the drill to the tires and undoing them one by one. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and hurried to finish his task, eager to get to the point where he would be able to respond. He saw then what Bobby meant when he said that it made Dean faster; he was always excited to answer Cas, so he felt like he had more energy. It was a nice effect, especially since he'd woken up late that morning (up late last night trying to finish their second solo mission), so he had skipped on the coffee.

Why, would you be offended if I was implying that? Why do either of us need to be the princess? Cas questioned. I find your logic generally confusing.

This gave Dean a pause. That was one thing that had been bothering him lately; his and Cas's interaction made him happy. He'd given up on pretending like he didn't like Cas after the night they had phone sex. He'd spent a lot of time thinking on it, and he'd finally come to the conclusion that maybe- a big maybe- he did like dudes. But, of course, not all dudes. Just Cas. Plus, he tagged on, just to himself, You don't even know what the dude looks like. You could meet him and be instantly repulsed.

Well, with that little tidbit finally coming into light, Dean had been the slightest bit worried that this would somehow affect his manliness. From what he'd heard, somebody always had to be the bottom in the relationship, the submissive, the one who has emotions and likes kids and wears pink out in public. Which really was faulty logic, because Dean knew good and well that none of these things were necessarily true about women. He wasn't sure why he applied this logic to gay guys and gay guys alone, but he had never really questioned it before. He'd never had a reason to, until now.

Of course, Castiel's words had been revolutionary to Dean. Maybe... Maybe there was a chance that he could like a guy like Cas (clearly manly and commanding) and not start to lose bits of himself in a stereotype? Maybe neither one of them had to be the princess, and they could both be freaking awesome princess that ran around saving people everywhere from dragons before they got rescued by some dick waffle who would demand their hand in marriage as return? Dean found he actually really liked that idea.

He liked it a lot.

Okay then, we'll both be awesome princes who save literally everyone and eventually become awesome kings. Oh, and we'll make sure all the villagers in our kingdoms know how to protect themselves from supernatural creatures. It'll be sick.

Your fantasy sounds significantly better that way. Of course, I pity your kingdom. You would have no political knowledge of any kind. Cas said. Dean let out a little huff at that; he'd totally have political knowledge, screw him! He knew about the president and how bills became laws ( I'm just a bill, up on Capitol hill~ Dean briefly sang to himself) and everything. He would totally be an awesome king.

Okay, yeah, even he knew he was being stupid. Cas was right; despite playing as many MMRPG games as he possibly could, he would never be able to wrap his mind around the actual dealings of a real-life court. He knew that politics wasn't as easy as it seemed to somebody with an outside perspective.

Well, we'll just have to unite the kingdoms and I'll have you take care of all the political crap while I'm the face of the campaign. After all, I'm hot as hell and everybody knows hot people demand respect. Dean said.

Unite the kingdoms? You do realize that often implies marriage, correct? Was that a flirtation?

Dean felt his face heat up red. He had finished with the tire change and had moved on to the oil change, and he was grateful that nobody could see his face at this moment. Was he flirting with Castiel? They hadn't talked about the phone incident since then, but... Maybe it would be okay to let himself relax and flirt, just a little bit? One or two texts couldn't hurt anything. Still, Dean couldn't quite make up his mind.

Maybe. He sent, his stomach twisting up into knots of uncertainty. He went back to working, finishing the entire car's tire changes before his phone started ringing again. He checked, almost afraid to see the answer.

Well, I'll have you know that it's typical in matters such as these for you to court me before offering to buy a ring. You're impulsive; you'd definitely need my help. Cas said. Dean wasn't quite sure if that was a yes or not, but it was good enough for him. At least it wasn't death and doom and imminent destruction for daring to say anything. Sometimes, it felt like that was what it would be like if he did ever try and flirt with a dude. Of course, he should have known better, from Cas. He seemed entirely content to leave things as they were, Dean initiating any flirting that took place and being (sometimes overly) respectful of his boundaries, while still managing to keep things interesting between them.

Dean was absolutely certain that if he decided right then that he never wanted to flirt with a guy again, Castiel would support his decision, and wouldn't push him for anything that would make him uncomfortable. Castiel felt like the kind of person Dean himself strived to be; a "If you're happy, I'm happy" kind of guy.

Well thanks. I'm sure the people will be grateful. We don't even have to try and win any wars; you'll just hack the other king's facebook account and he'll roll over like a domesticated dog. Dean said. Laughing to himself. Because no matter how bad his jokes were, they were still awesome. You couldn't convince him otherwise.

That was another thing Dean loved about Castiel. Unless he just didn't get the joke all together (which was often, because Dean had a wide array of pop culture references he used) he always managed to give a small, half-assed chuckle or said something in return that made Dean laugh. Dean loved it when people actually responded to his jokes and terrible puns, because it made him feel sort of special. Most people just rolled their eyes and shook their heads, albeit a small smile on their faces. Castiel's reactions made him feel paid attention to. Cas made him feel important. Dean could honestly say that other than Sam, nobody really had that kind of power over him.

Ahhh, I suppose. Kingdoms don't sound as exciting if they were in modern day, do they? I don't want to rule at all, now that I think about it. I'd like to work on a nice bee farm.

A bee farm? Dude, what kind of a wish is that? Dean demanded, scrunching up his eyes. He didn't take Castiel for the country life. Then again, the area code on his number only told him the state that Castiel lived in, nothing about the environment he lived in. He could live in the country boon docks of New York, for all that Dean knew. If those even existed. He wasn't entirely sure.

A realistic one. Honey bees are quickly going extinct thanks to large, African bees that have come over in recent shipments. They take over hives. That mixed with a rare disease killing off honeybees means that soon, all the true honey bees may well be dead. That is, unless somebody steps up and preserves some of them. As the honey bees die, the price of honey will skyrocket and it will become a delicacy that surpasses even caviar in price. So, it will be a very fulfilling business decision.

Dean stared at his phone blankly. Where the hell did the guy know all this stuff from?

I just never took you as the nature type. He decides to respond. That car is now entirely finished, and a new one rolls up, needing new repairs. He does his work trying not to feel sympathy for the bees Cas had spoken of. He, for one, loved honey.

I would have to live somewhere vaguely close to a town. Somewhere with a nice internet connection, perhaps. However, I would gladly give up the ability to walk to whatever store I desire if I could raise bees. The country is worth the peace. Of course, I would never be able to do it alone. I would need a partner or a mate to keep me company. Cas explained.

Well then, Cas, if you ever get the chance, I would love to open a bee farm with you. Dean said, surprised at his own honesty. Of course, only if it was somewhere I could keep my job. Honey is nice, but there aint nothing like working on cars for a living.

Of course. I would be quite pleased to have your company. Then again, for all you know, I could be a pedophile.

Come on Cas, I know you're not a pedo. Hopefully. I mean, you're not like, secretly 70 and touching yourself to thoughts of me every time we talk, right? I'm not gonna open my front door one day and you're standing there, somehow knowing where I live.

You're forgetting Dean, I'm a hacker. I technically saw your address when I found your email. If I wanted to show up on your doorstep, I would have by now.

Yeah, I'm glad that you haven't. That would be just a little creepy. Then again, I trust that you're not a pedophile. I may be 27, but that's not that young. I totally get five o'clock shadow and everything.

Alright, Dean. If you say so.

The end of the day came much too fast for Dean. He was packing up his stuff, changing out of his "work" clothes, his cell phone switching pockets to his regular pants.

"Hey, Dean, how ab out you come out to the bar with us tonight? It's been too long since we've sat down and had a good time, buddy." Garth announced, reaching up to ruffle Dean's hair. He flinched from the touch, knowing that his hair was sweaty as heck and that could not be sanitary. He would normally jump at the offer, but today, he just wanted to get home and shower. Plus, he couldn't text Cas if he was at the bar, or else risk a whole nother round of questions and teasing.

He shook is head no, which was met with the combined protests of the two in front of him.

"Come on, Dean! You deserve it!"

"It's been too long, Buddy. Don't leave me to get drinks with just sunshine here."

"I'm not sure whether or not to resent that. Actually, I think I kind of like it."

"GUYS!" Dean yelled, breaking up the fight. He had an idea; his guild was already coming to the Christmas party, why not prove to Sam that he had people he hung out with in real life, too? "I have a better idea. How about we just forget about all of that drink stuff. I'm throwing an incredibly out of season Christmas party next week, why don't you come to that instead?" Dean proposed.

There was a long pause.

"Christmas is my favourite holiday." Garth said, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

"Okay, then it's settled." Dean announced. "You guys leave me alone for now, and you'll come to my place this Saturday."

Twin nods met his decision.

PRESENT-DAY ME: This next part is edited from past me a little bit because I had actual links prepared but you can't put links into stories. Back to (slightly edited) past me now.

What I said about African bees and disorders killing off bees is true. If you'd like to learn more, (the disease is CCD) you can do some google research.

SAVE THE HONEYBEE!

Also, if anybody wants to open a bee farm with me, I am open to the idea. Not until after I've traveled the world, though, of course ;-) Can't settle down too soon~.

Please comment, I live off of them.