Dean discovered that Castiel was severely lacking in pop culture knowledge, having been raised in a very conservative home with almost no exposure to TV and movies. Dean insisted that if they were going to be friends, they were going to have a movie marathon.

On Saturday morning, Castiel showed up to Dean's apartment with coffee and muffins, prepared to, as Dean put it, "get schooled in awesomeness." Dean beamed at Castiel like a little kid, bursting with excitement to convert someone new to the love of all things Star Wars. "OK, dude, we're starting with Star Wars. It's a crime against nature for anyone to not know who Darth Vader is. But we're totally only watching the originals 'cause that crap that they made in the 90s? Just no. Then we can round off your education with some Die Hard – yippie-ki-ay motherfucker! And finally some Clint Eastwood – Go ahead, make my day!"

"Dean, that's like ten hours of television. It seems a bit excessive."

Dean leaned into his friend with a hand on his shoulder and a finger to his chest, "You, my friend, don't know what you're missing if you never spent a day vegged out watching classics."

Castiel was pretty sure he wasn't missing anything, but kept that opinion to himself. Dean's enthusiasm was infectious and he found himself looking forward to this day. Dean stretched an arm out for Castiel to enter his apartment.

Dean's apartment was very tidy. Cas was a bit surprised at first but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Dean had told him that he had a pretty nomadic upbringing so it would stand to reason that he would take such good care of a home now that he had one. After all, he had seen the care that the man took with his car and knew how he had taken care of Sam so Castiel figured he probably put that kind of devotion into other things in his life as well.

The apartment had an open feeling and the furniture was all modern, Ikea style with clean lines and no frills. He turned and gave Dean a small smile. "OK, I am prepared to be schooled in awesomeness," putting his fingers up into air quotes to emphasize the words. Dean rolled his eyes and thought for a guy who was usually so straight laced, he could be a snarky bastard when he wanted. And he really liked it.

Dean plopped down on the couch, grabbed a coffee and the remote, already having queued up the first movie. Castiel took a seat next to him and relaxed back into the soft cushions. Dean pressed play and watched Cas as the iconic music and opening intro played. He was thrumming with excitement to share one of his passions with his friend. He already had the movie practically memorized and was having a much better time watching Cas discover it for the first time.

He hoped he was being subtle, checking out Cas through of the side of his vision every chance he could. Cas looked so relaxed like this and Dean loved just having the other man next to him doing something fun and casual outside of the shop. He liked that during the more exciting moments in the movie, Cas would become absorbed with the movie, giving Dean the opportunity to really take the man in.

Dean had gotten used to seeing him in work clothes at the shop, and appreciated that Cas favored clothes that showed off his lean body. Today, though, he looked at home and incredibly sexy in a pair of dark jeans, loose fitting and hanging nicely on his hips. He was wearing another Henley and Dean was starting to love that Cas liked these shirts (and when had he developed a Henley kink?). This one was older and worn soft, even frayed a bit around the cuffs that were pushed up and it was a blue and brought out the deep color in the man's eyes.

He hadn't shaved this morning so there was a day of stubble over his face and his hair was rumpled into goddamn sexhair! Dean's hands itched to run his fingers through it, feel if it was really as smooth as it looked. But the worst was his scent. He smelled fresh and clean and was wearing something with a subtle exotic spice smell that was doing a number on Dean's senses.

After several hours of sitting so close to Cas he began to let his mind wonder. After all, he didn't exactly have to worry about getting lost in the movie plot. He fantasized about touching Cas, wondering what he tasted like, what spots on his body were the most sensitive, what kinds of sounds he would make when he was coming undone. Damn, just the thought of that voice all deep and fucked out! He remembered that perfect dancer's body from the day of their first date (date?), all lean defined muscle. And those hands! Now one was wrapped elegantly around a glass and the other rested on thigh, long fingers splayed out and Dean had the insane urge to trace the lines of those fingers.

Fuck, he needed to stop now! He couldn't sit here and pine like a teenaged girl over someone he couldn't have and he really didn't want to screw up this friendship. He forced himself to think of anything but Cas to get his mind off the blood that was travelling to his cock.

Finally, the credits rolled on the final installment of the Star Wars trilogy and Dean was starving and had worked himself into an anxious state. "Thank you, Dean, those were quite enjoyable."

"No shit! Didn't I tell ya they were great? Han rocks."

"I did like Han Solo. He was quite dashing."

"Dashing? Seriously, dude? Who talks like that?" Dean chuckled. "C'mon, let's get something to eat. I'm starving."

They decided after six hours on the couch they were both ready to stretch their legs and get out for some food. They settled on Italian, because Dean said he knew of a good place not far where the food was great and deserts were even better.

Dean was right, the food was excellent and Castiel also really liked the atmosphere. The place only had about fifteen tables and it was decorated in traditional Tuscan style, giving it an intimate, family feel. "Thank you for bringing me here, Dean. I find this restaurant quite enjoyable. It feels authentic. It reminds me very much of my time in Italy."

"Dude, you've been there? I've been around the US, but always wanted to check out Europe."

"I travelled extensively with my mother growing up. She was a professional dancer so we would move between cities whenever she secured a role in another show. When we were in a travelling company, we would usually spend about a month in each city. Occasionally, though, she would be in a more long-running show so we could stay in one location for longer. "

"Well I guess that's something we have in common. I can't remember ever staying in one place for more than a few months at a time. Me and Sammy, we just usually stuck together 'cause it sucked making friends just to leave them after a few months."

"I admire your dedication to Sam, Dean. I always wished for someone else in my life. My mother was wonderful, but growing up with just her definitely got lonely. And once she passed away, it left me with almost no one." Castiel suddenly felt awkward for sharing this and tried to busy himself with his food, looking down and taking a drink of wine.

"Is that why you joined the Army? To be with other people?" Dean was curious as to how this dancer ended up a pilot.

Castiel smiled a little, thinking of how much that was not the case. He had never really become comfortable around lots of people and the fact that the Army would force him into so much teamwork and interaction was a reason that he had almost not joined.

He huffed a small laugh, "Not exactly. I really just wanted to fly. I became very interested in flight as a young child. I don't know why. Something about flight just clicked with me and it was all I ever really wanted to do. The freedom of floating high above the earth just spoke to me. This may sound strange, but I sometimes feel like I belong in the air, like I am more comfortable there than on the ground."

Dean thought that he couldn't think of anything worse. He hated flying, it felt out of control. He liked how grounded he felt behind the wheel of his car, not up in the air.

Castiel continued, "My mother always said that I should have been born with wings because I was created to fly. I was named after Castiel, the angel of Thursday. She would say that I was trying to live up to my name. So she started calling me her angel. Something about that always stuck with me. I felt like I had to fly.

"I planned my career from the time I was in high school, studying aerodynamics and enrolling in ROTC in college so that I could become a pilot. I feel like she was maybe guiding me because everything fell into place when I was assigned my dream job. I got to fly medevac. Maybe it's silly, but it really did make me feel like an angel, not just flying but also saving people."

Dean had stopped eating to listen to Castiel's story. Somehow, seeing Cas as an angel fit perfectly. He had this otherworldly strength and presence to him that Dean couldn't really explain. He could tell how much the man loved flying. It sucked that he wasn't doing it any more.

"Do you miss it, flying?" Dean asked.

"All the time. But I have built a new life. Pamela and I have worked hard to make the studio a success and dancing is something that I love almost as much as flying so I guess I am pretty fortunate."

Shit, there it was again, that reminder that Cas was off limits. He had worked hard to build a life with Pamela after the Army. Dean was determined not to screw that up for Cas. He deserved better. What would an angel who saved people want with a broken soldier who wasn't able to save his own men, anyway?

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Thank you. For listening and just being a good friend. I don't make friends easily and I want you to know that I value what you have done for me."

This was seriously moving into chick flick territory and Dean could feel that niggle of dread rising the way it did when he felt exposed. "Well, someone had to teach you about the finer things in life, Cas. No one should go through life without knowing who Darth Vader is. Stick with me, I will lead you to the force."

"Who's the more foolish: the fool, or the fool who follows him?" Castiel smirked at Dean.

"Dude, did you just quote Obi Wan to me? Cas, you're awesome!"

After dinner, Castiel asked Dean to drop him off at home. After a few glasses of wine, he didn't want to drive his car. When Dean parked outside of Castiel's home, though, he was reluctant to end their time together.

"It's still early. You can come in if you like," he asked Dean with some hesitation.

Castiel climbed the stairs to his apartment hating his traitorous heart. He didn't want to fall in love with Dean Winchester. He had been hurt enough. He didn't think he could ever fall in love again and now here he was wasting his heart on an unattainable man. Maybe he was doing it on purpose. If he only loved someone he couldn't have, there was no risk in being loved back just to eventually lose that love. He was a little drunk and his head was fuzzy and he didn't like where his brain was going.

Once upstairs, he kicked off his shoes and headed to the kitchen, "What can I get you?" he called over his shoulder while leaning down to see what was in his refrigerator.

"How about a beer?"

Castiel grabbed two bottles, headed back into the living room and handed one to Dean before he sat down in the corner of couch, tucking one leg under him. "So, you listened to me ramble on tonight at the restaurant, it's your turn. Tell me something about you."

Dean leaned forward, looked Castiel straight in the eye, pouted his lips (which was absolutely adorable) and said, "My name is Dean Winchester, I'm an Aquarius, I like long walks on the beach and frisky women."

"And you're a jackass," laughed Castiel.

"So it's been said. Seriously, though, what do you want to know?" He leaned back into his corner of the couch and took a swig of his beer, slinging his arm over the back of the couch looking comfortable and at ease.

"Well, you know what I did in the Army, why did you join?

"Well, when I was 18 and Sam was 14 we were in a car accident that killed my dad. He was drunk and we were moving again. I had, uh, gotten in trouble the week before the accident and he was really pissed at me. He never looked at me the same after that and then he was killed instantly. I never got a chance to make things right with him. I don't know, I guess I always felt like it was my fault. We wouldn't have been in the car that night, moving again, if it wasn't for me." Dean couldn't believe he had just told Cas about that night. He never liked to talk about it at all. Fuck, what had he done? Just told his friend that he was responsible for his own father's death, that's what. He brought a hand up and dragged it over his mouth, breathing out slow and long, not wanting to see a look of shock or disgust that Cas would invariably feel.

But that look never came. Instead, Cas narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Dean felt like he was being studied.

"Dean, you were 18. Whatever you did, you are not responsible for your father's choices. He chose to drink and drive. He chose to not try to talk to his own son after your fallout. You can't continue to blame yourself."

Dean felt claustrophobic. He couldn't sit still any longer and he bolted off the couch, walking around the room like a caged tiger. He could feel the angry rush of blood through his veins, making his limbs tingle with the unease. The feeling that he described as swirling had become all too familiar since the war. The doctor called it PTSD. Dean called it fucked up. The thrum of nervousness that pounded through his body was making him feel suffocated.

"Fuck, Cas. You don't know. You don't know what it's like to be such a disappointment. Your mom, she fuckin' adored you! I mean look at that picture. You were her goddamn little angel! And you're talented and smart and fucking saved people. I wasn't even able to keep my family alive! I couldn't keep any of them alive. They all burned, Cas. My dad, my men. There was so much blood and fire and I could smell 'em burning. And I failed. I wasn't good enough to save him."

He brought his hands to his face pressing into his eyes with his wrists, hoping the pressure would help clear his head. He felt the familiar panic rising in his chest, the tingling in his limbs, buzzing in his head. Shit, not another anxiety attack!

He hadn't realized that Cas had gotten up until he felt a hand on his arm. He looked at the source of the hand and up into Castiel's eyes, where he found not judgment or pity, but acceptance. The hand on his arm grounded and calmed him with its solid warmth and he felt the panic that was rising start to drain. He let out a ragged breath that he hadn't known he was holding. "I couldn't save 'em, Cas," was all that came out like a whispered prayer.

"I know," Castiel soothed and guided Dean back over to the couch. They sat there in silence for several long minutes, Dean staring at the ground while Castiel waited patiently perched on the corner of the couch.

Dean finally broke the spell, looking over at Castiel, "Sorry, Cas. Didn't mean to spill on you like that."

"Dean, you have nothing to apologize for." He turned to face Dean fully and shared with him a warm smile that did something to Dean's insides.

Dean needed to break the tension, needed to douse the burning anxiety so he broke the silence, "You still wanna hear about my Army days?"

"Whatever you are comfortable with, Dean."

"Sorry, I promise, no more Psycho moments," Dean tried a halfhearted laugh, "So, anyway, Sam and I moved in with Bobby. We were there three years when the little braniac got accepted early to Stanford. I was workin' a couple of jobs and, I just… I think I just didn't want to be at Bobby's without Sam. I don't know. Maybe from all those years living on the road, three years at Bobby's had made me restless. And I knew Sam was going to need money for college. He got a full ride, but that doesn't include all of his living expenses so I joined up and started sending him as much as I could. Best investment I ever made."

They continued to talk long into the evening. Dean couldn't believe how comfortable he was sharing all of his crap with Cas. He had never met anyone who got him the way Cas did. He vowed not to do anything to screw this up. At some point, both men drifted off, feeling a little buzzed, contented and relaxed in each other's company.

I can see by your eyes, you must be lying
When you think I don't have a clue
Baby you're crazy if you think you can fool me
Because I've seen that movie too
~I've Seen that Movie Too – Elton John