By Chance

Major screw up...

===3==

Why the hell did he kiss him again? Oh yeah, he's insane! Yes, he admits that Castiel is very attractive indeed. He also admits that he has this pull towards Castiel, like he was a planet that revolves around the guy, as if he was in an orbit that simply controls his sudden pulls towards him. He also noticed how depressed he was that he couldn't replace Michael in his heart. He can really say at the moment that he is very much head over heels for Castiel. And yes, he admits that he loves the guy. But seriously, Castiel wasn't showing any interest on him, he should just back off and be a friend to the guy right?

No. He wanted so much more than that. He wants Castiel to be the person he wakes up with in bed—be it early in the morning, midnight, midday, afternoon, night or whatever. He wants Castiel to be the one to listen to his annoying problems. He wants Castiel to lean on him when the man needs a shoulder. He wants Castiel to be the one he cooks breakfast for and vice versa. He wants Castiel to hold him close at night. He wants Castiel to be the one he takes on romantic dates (he has so given up on the 'no chick flick' motto). He wants Castiel to give him that smile when he's down. He wants Castiel to be vulnerable for him, that mask of strength removed and see that pained and sorrowed man inside. He wants Castiel to be the one that kisses him gently when he's on the edge of throwing the towel. He wants Castiel, period.

But then, he just had to kiss the guy (it was only on the cheek though) and run away as fast as possible. Yep, it's safe to say that he screwed up; badly. Now Castiel wouldn't even want him as a friend. Life sucks when you go on impulse. The heck, life sucks when you're simply Dean Winchester. Right.

He got to his apartment but stayed in the car, contemplating about the earlier event. Wondering about Castiel's reaction after he left. Wondering if he could find an excuse to see Castiel again. Would Castiel still consider going to Sam's party after what happened? Would Castiel actually want to see him? Uncertainty—that's all he has at the moment. He just has to find away to see Castiel and apologize and try to explain his actions—if there is anything to explain at all.

He sighed heavily and turned to get out of the car. But before he could actually get out, something caught his eye; it was a black book (notebook, whatever) lying on the car's floor in front of the passenger's seat. He took it and opened the first page—hoping that a name and address were written on it. He had a pretty good feeling to whom it belonged to but still opened it.

CC &MM

That was all that was written on the front page and it was written beautifully. Two angel wings on both sides.

Castiel Collin & Michael McKnight. Must be something personal. Dean thought. He remembered the full names of the two lovers. His brow furrowed slightly as he felt something gripping his chest tight. He felt his stomach do a somersault inside him while his lungs seemed to have stopped functioning. He really has no idea how he could fall that quickly for someone—and fall very, very deeply too. Everything was really new to Dean. All that jealousy, pain, joy and love he felt whenever Castiel's around scares him. The feelings were foreign still he knew it very well. He really is very in love with him.

He would have read the book but ordered himself not to. He knew invading Castiel's privacy would make things worse. On the bright side, he has a reason to see Castiel. Maybe he could drop it off at the University the next day. All he has to do is ask Balthazar what time the said man will be free.

He got out of the car and into his apartment with the book in his hand. After he has dropped his keys on the counter, he took out his phone and called Balthazar. Four or five rings later, someone picked up.

"Hello?" came a husky voice.

"Um, Balthazar?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes. Who's this?" he choked out, panting a little. Huh. That's weird. Dean thought.

"Um, it's Dean."

"Oh, Dean. What's wrong?"

"Who's Dean?" another voice from the line asked; a male's voice. Dean's brows furrowed. Awkward.

"A friend." Now the voice came from Balthazar, talking to the unknown voice.

"Um..." Dean started and cleared his throat before he continued. "Is this a bad time?" he asked, brows furrowing deeper.

A moan that sounded like a groan answered him. "Oh god." Balthazar. Dean shut his eyes tightly, doing his best to delete the mental image that has popped into his head. He can't believe Balthazar would answer his phone while doing something unnecessary and not excuse himself from his companion. "Wait." He panted. "I need to talk to Dean, okay?" a small sound of mouths smacking on each other was heard; Dean's biting his lip now, trying to keep his composure. "Hello, Dean. Are you still there?"

"Y-yeah." He choked.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that. So, what do you need?"

"Um, I just want to ask what time Castiel will be free tomorrow. It seemed he dropped something in my car."

"He's got a whole day."

"Excuse me?"

"It's his day off tomorrow. You can drop it off tomorrow morning in the apartment."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just... He didn't say anything about having a day off tomorrow."

"Did you even ask him?"

"No." He replied quietly, feeling a little ashamed for a reason not known to him.

"Well, now you know. I'll text you about our address so you'll know where to go to return it to him personally."

"No need. I know how to get there."

"Wha—?Oh. So you took him home."

"Yep; hence the 'dropping of his book in my car' thing."

"Okay then. Just take it to him; he'll be home all day. Also, um, Dean, I'm kind of busy so..." he trailed off. He really did not have to elaborate, Dean gets it.

"Okay. Thanks a lot." He said with a smile and hung up.

He sighed and ran his hand on his face. He took the book again and looked at it. He really, really wants to see what's inside but went against it.

After some more contemplating, he went to his room and placed the book on his desk. He removed his clothes and threw them into the basket. He wrapped a towel around his waist rummaged into his pile of clothes to get a black undershirt and a pair of black boxers and went straight to the shower.

He stayed in the shower for a long hour, doing his best to relax. He knew Castiel might not want to face him tomorrow but he really wants to see the said man.

Castiel is slowly becoming a drug to him—a highly addictive one. He feels weird whenever the guy's around but he feels lost without him. He gets all dizzy when he sees the man smiling but pain runs through his chest when he sees the man unhappy. His lungs seem to stop functioning whenever those intense blue eyes lock on his green ones but his heart seemed to stop pumping blood everytime those blue eyes pays attention to someone else.

Whether this addiction is healthy or not, he couldn't care less. All he wants is Castiel and Castiel alone.

He inhaled deeply and turned the shower off. He dried himself and put on his boxers and slipped his shirt over his head and down his body. It's still early and Dr. Sexy M.D. will be starting any time soon. But, he felt tired and simply went to bed.

As he lay in bed, he turned his head to the side to glance at his desk and see Castiel's book. He reluctantly took it but didn't open it. He just let it lay beside his head. His fingers lazily traced patterns on the said book until he fell into a deep slumber all of a sudden; thoughts of the blue eyed, man still running in his head.

===3==

"Bed." Dean heard Castiel's voice whisper but he knew he wasn't talking to him. Slowly, he saw Castiel's image sitting on the lap of a man with dark brown hair—any darker and it'll have the same dark shade of Castiel's. Their foreheads were touching while the man with dark brown hair has his hands on Castiel's waist.

The man with dark brown hair seemed to be bigger than Castiel but almost just as big as Dean—muscle wise of course. His hair was quite neat on his head. He seemed to have beautiful chocolate brown eyes—Dean couldn't really tell from their distance. He also wore a simple shirt and sweatpants that fit him perfectly, making him extremely beautiful even in the simple clothing.

Castiel on the other hand wore slightly loose jeans. He was barefooted like the other guy. He wore a simple black shirt that fit his body, showing his beautiful muscles.

With the way Castiel looked at the man he was sitting on, Dean concluded that that guy must be Michael—Castiel's first love and first boyfriend and supposedly soon to be husband.

Dean can see the curiosity in Michael's face at Castiel's words. He saw Castiel manoeuvre Michael's hands on his waist, slipping them under his shirt, smiling smugly down at the man. He saw Michael's head shoot up with a spark of hope. He can see Castiel's raised eyebrow and seductive grin; seemingly challenging Michael. He saw how Michael's face lit up in realization.

Dean saw Michael slowly stand up and support Castiel's weight while the other man wrapped his legs around his hips. He saw them attack each other's mouth passionately and can't help feeling out of air. Even so, he followed them to Michael's room and saw that they were both naked already; Michael on top of Castiel.

He can see Michael's hesitation to get inside of Castiel and knew that Castiel can feel that too. He saw the man underneath pull back a little.

"What's wrong?" he heard a deep sweet tenor like voice. Michael. He decided.

"Don't hesitate." He heard the reply from Castiel; need, lust, desire and love were swirling in that voice of his. He knew Castiel really wanted it with Michael. He knew Castiel trusts Michael a lot. He saw Michael smile before attacking Castiel's lips once more.

He can see Michael slowly lowering himself, getting inside of Castiel. They both moaned as Michael sank deeper. When Michael was fully inside of Castiel and Castiel got comfortable with Michael inside him, Michael rocked a little back—thrusting out—and went back down. He kept on thrusting in a slow phase, making sure Castiel won't get hurt.

He heard Castiel moan loud and hear Michael's shaky breath as he thrust in and out of Castiel.

He felt his chest clench once more; this time though, his stomach betrayed him as well and flipped inside him. He can't stand to watch the scene anymore but can't seem to take his eyes off as well. Another thing Dean can't figure out why. He just stood there and let the scene play.

As he watched them have sex—two of them switching positions, Castiel getting inside of Michael—his lungs started to fail him next. He seemed to be out of air. He just can't breathe. At first, it just felt like his breath being caught. But, he literally can't breathe at the moment. He just can't. As if there was no air for him to inhale at all.

The last thing he saw were Castiel and Michael playing with their hands and trace lazy patterns on each other.

===3==

Dean woke up with a loud gasp. He was panting and sweating when he woke up. He can't remember why he just shot up like that. He doesn't know if it was a sound coming from outside or because he had a nightmare. Since it was very quiet outside, he thought maybe it was a nightmare. His eyes fluttered close and thought hard about the dream that woke him up.

Dream, dream, dream. What is it that I'm missing? He thought for himself. He simply doesn't remember his dream. He doesn't remember what was in that dream that made him wake up with a gasp.

He thought for almost an hour before he let it go. He laid himself back to bed, turned to his left and saw Castiel's book. He lifted it up and absentmindedly opened it on one page. On that page, he saw a photo of Castiel and Michael, asleep on a coach in each other's arms—high angle. Castiel was lying on top of Michael and has his head nuzzled against the other man's. His hand was lying on the Michael's chest while the said man's arm was wrapped around his waist. They looked so peaceful in their sleep.

Dean's brows furrowed and studied the photo a little. Michael was shirtless while Castiel's shirt has two, three or four buttons down. But, as soon as he realized what he was doing, he shut the book and hastily put it on his desk for the second time.

He sighed heavily and shut his eyes; hoping—praying—for sleep to dawn over him once more and take him into a dreamless night.