Summary: The eight times Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak had a surprise encounter, and the one time it was on purpose. Just a nice little Destiel College AU in which Castiel is a hapless freshman and Dean is a helpful and friendly senior. Basically an excuse for me to practice my lemons that somehow gained some plot.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural related 'cept a few t-shirts, buttons, and random bits and bobs.

"Talking"

'Thinking'

"Phone Calls"

Warnings: Just thought I'd put this back up here to remind ya'll that this is in fact an M-rated slash fic. There's gonna be more sexual tension from here on out, so if anyone wants to hop off the bandwagon, now's the time.

A/N: *stumbles in and drunkenly snoodle boops everyone on the snoodle* Wow, its been almost 2 years since I updated this. I'm a garbage. But! Here's a chapter XD. This fic isn't abandoned, it's just not really on my mind. I don't really watch Supernatural anymore ^_^" but I'll do my best to finish this up! We've got...4 more chapters till it's done? So hopefully I'll be able to get those out in a timely manner. I mean...it's not like anyone gives a shit anyway, this fic is garbage (sorry). But still *shrugs*. Anyway, this one's a long one, so enjoy!

oOoOo

The next time Dean met Cas, the blue-eyed freshman was a bit…out of it.

Dean was lying in his room with his legs flung over his bed, his back resting on the floor as he blasted Metallica through his headphones, humming along. It was Friday night, he didn't have any homework that needed to be done right away, he had a cheeseburger in the fridge if he got hungry, and he could just relax. Life was good.

He jumped as he felt his phone vibrate from where it'd been sitting on his chest, picking it up to glance at the number. He rolled his eyes as he saw it was his brother and set the phone back down on the floor next to him; he wasn't in the mood to listen to Sam's bitching right now.

"Sleep with one eye open, gripping your pillow tight" he sang along off key, tapping his socked feet to the beat on his mattress. The phone rang again showing his brother's number, but he ignored it yet again, letting it ring, though he decided that if it rang a third time he'd pick up just to tell his brother to fuck off (and to make sure that nothing was actually wrong with his baby brother, but he'd never consciously acknowledge that thought).

When the phone rang again, he growled, grabbed it, and sat up, just about ready to throw it across the room, but this time it wasn't Sam. It was Jess. Sweet, kind, wonderful Jess, his little brother's girlfriend who Dean could never ignore without feeling guilty. He sighed in resignation, taking off his headphones and leaning back against his bed as he picked up. "Hey Jess."

"Hi Dean." She sounded amused, and he could faintly hear his brother's voice in the background, probably complaining about Dean ignoring him.

"How are you? Is my brother treating you right?" Dean asked, more out of habit than out of actual concern; he knew his brother was absolutely smitten with the beautiful gray-eyed blonde, and would never do anything to upset or hurt her.

"Wonderfully as always, but come on Dean, we both know you probably want me to get to the point, so let's just skip the pleasantries," Jess said, her voice teasing.

"Alright then." Dean said with a smile, "What's up?"

"I need a favor." Dean hummed questioningly, waiting for her to elaborate. "It's about my friend Castiel." Dean's heart jumped into his throat before falling back to its normal place and beating a tattoo on the inside of his ribcage.

It had been about a month and a half since Dean and Cas's last meeting, and their huge argument. Though Dean had experienced a mini-revelation in which he decided he wasn't too angry with Cas, he was still sulky and unreasonable for the duration of the past 7 weeks, hence him ignoring his brother's phone calls. If this call was about what he thought it was, it had happened a bit earlier than expected.

"What's the matter with Cas?" he asked, hiding the worry in his voice. Perhaps he didn't do as well as he thought, as Jess sounded surprised and asked, "You know him?"

"We've run into each other around campus a few times." He replied easily, ignoring the urge to squirm even if she couldn't see him.

"Oh, well that makes this less awkward." She said with a sigh of relief. "His friend Meg called me a few minutes ago from his phone in a bit of a panic. Apparently Castiel, Meg, and a few of their friends are over at Gallagher's and, well…he's had a bit too much of the happy juice." She paused, then continued sheepishly, "A lot too much, actually. Meg says she can't get him to stop and she's worried he'll drink himself into unconsciousness and she won't be able to get him back to his room. Meg doesn't have a car so…"

Dean sighed. Weirdly enough, he'd run into Meg a few times since their initial introduction and they'd become something resembling friends, though with a lot of snark and semi-friendly ribbing, after he'd repeatedly insisted that he wasn't interested in her in any kind of romantic context. Theirs was a rather odd friendship, especially considering the fact that he and Cas weren't talking.

(Like, really not talking. Dean had seen Cas walking down the hallway-with Bela of course, always with Bela-and had nearly run the other way, hoping the couple wouldn't notice him. Not his proudest moment, but he really didn't want to bump into Cas again until this all blew over.)

He and Meg both knew Cas's relationship with Bela wasn't going to end well, but after his reception to Dean saying it aloud, Meg figured it wasn't worth it for him to push her away as well, and that she'd just be there for him when his heart got broken. Dean shook himself, getting his thoughts back on track.

Gallagher's was a nearby bar and eatery that all the college kids liked to go to to relax. The owner of the bar, Andy, didn't really care overmuch if anyone was a bit underage, as long as they paid for their drinks. Not the most responsible practice to be sure, but it was a great place for the students to go to unwind, and the food was pretty good. "You want me to go get him?" Dean said, already standing to grab his shoes.

"If you would please? Sam and I would, but as you know we're about two hours away right now…" Jess sounded extremely relieved.

"Yeah, I got it." Dean replied, phone pressed awkwardly between his shoulder and the side of his face as he laced up his boots.

"Thanks so much Dean, I really appreciate it."

"Anything for you Jess." He said mock seriously, though only partly joking, his grin readily apparent in his tone. He absolutely loved his little brother's girlfriend. She was perfect for Sam, always gave as good as she got in their day-to-day squabbles and stood her ground, which was good for his little brother who always seemed to get his way with his ridiculously effective puppy-dog eyes or intimidating stature, though he didn't tend to purposely use the latter. The two of them seemed to be forever in the honeymoon stage of their sickeningly sweet relationship, and Dean was honestly quite sure that she would be the next Mrs. Winchester.

"You charmer." She accused amusedly.

"Guilty as charged." He replied, picking up his keys as he headed out his door, shutting it and heading off down the hall.

"Really Dean, thank you. I think a trip to Conner's is in order." Dean grinned, Conner's was his favorite diner, located about an hour and a half away from his college, and half an hour more from Stanford.

"Jess, you are an angel." He stated reverently as he climbed into the Impala, the soothing and familiar scent of leather surrounding him comfortingly for a moment.

"Yeah, yeah. Can you text me once you have Castiel?"

"Sure thing. Till then." Dean replied, hanging up, revving up the Impala, and peeling out of the parking lot.

The trip to Gallagher's was about half an hour walking, but it only took him about 10 minutes in the Impala. He pulled into a parking space, listening to his baby's engine purr for a moment before he turned off the engine and climbed out of the car, swiftly making his way to the bar. A quick, deep breath and he was striding in like he owned the place, his eyes flitting from group to group as he looked for familiar faces.

Within moments he had located Meg and her crew. An extremely drunk looking Cas was slumped over in a booth while Meg sat next to him and rubbed his back soothingly, and most of the rest of the group was seated in the booth directly behind them, while one was seated at the bar. As Dean started walking toward them, he saw Meg glance his way and roll her eyes before patting Cas on the back, leaning over and murmuring something to him, and standing up and heading toward Dean. They met somewhere near the middle, Meg drawling, "I'm glad you're here Ken-Doll, 'cause we've got a bit of a situation on our hands."

"Yeah, I've noticed." Dean said with a raised brow, glancing over her back toward Cas where his friends were watching curiously. "Jess called me, he looks like shit. Was it…" he trailed off and Meg nodded sadly.

"Dean, you gotta do something. I can't get him to stop. He's never actually gotten this drunk before; at this rate you're gonna have to carry him back to the dorms." Meg muttered, glancing half-exasperatedly, half-worriedly back over her shoulder at the very drunk Cas.

"Don't worry shortstop, I got this." Dean stated confidently, reaching out to muss her hair, but drawing back at the venomous look she sent him. "Alright, alright…" Dean muttered, raising his hands in surrender as she whipped around and stalked back over to her friends. She muttered something that he was too far away to hear, causing all of them (sans Cas) to look to her in surprise before glancing at him suspiciously. He rolled his eyes, wandering over to the group.

He was the slightest bit worried that Cas would be mad to see him, considering the note they left off on, but it seemed (luckily for him) that Cas was a happy drunk. Or, at least that's the message he got when Cas looked up, saw him, and exclaimed, "Dean!" happily with a beaming grin. It was much more expressive than his usual expressions, and looked slightly out of place yet unsurprisingly attractive on his face.

Dean mentally slapped himself, refusing to believe he'd been contemplating his friend's attractiveness at such an inopportune time and replied, "Hey buddy." as he stood somewhat awkwardly. Perhaps he should've thought of a plan on the way over; he wasn't quite sure where to go from there, and most of Meg and Co., other than the beanpole of a kid at the bar who seemed completely unconcerned with everything around him as he stared idly up at the ceiling, were sending him expectant and pleading or, in one case, unimpressed and judging looks.

Luckily for him, Cas decided to pipe up again, gleefully stating, "Dean, meet my friends!" and glancing around and making an expansive hand gesture toward the group crowded around him before his attention turned back to Dean. They all paused in their curious or judgmental staring at Dean to send awkward smiles Cas's way.

Uncomfortable silence descended on the group, and Cas's grin turned to an exaggerated frown (Dean would go so far as to call it a pout if Cas wasn't a grown man) as he again turned his attention from Dean back to his friends and chided "Guys, you have to introduce yourselves!" The group glanced awkwardly between each other before the beanpole-looking kid at the bar sighed and spoke up, finally pulling his attention from the ceiling as he focused on Dean.

"Hey, I'm Garth. S'good to meet ya." He drawled lazily, giving a little salute.

The sweet, kind looking brunette in the booth was the next to speak, and cheerfully piped "Hi, I'm Ava!"

The short Asian kid next to her spoke next, and he smiled at Dean in a distracted manner as he said, "My name's Kevin.". He looked back down to his open textbook which was situated on top of a pile of increasingly larger textbooks. Dean tilted his head to the side, reading along the spine of one of the lower textbooks, and frowned in sympathy at the familiar 'Intro to High Level Calculus' book that glared out at him.

After him came another freshman who was seated across from him and murmured, "My name's Samandriel, but everyone calls me Alfie. It's good to meet you." in a friendly manner.

Lastly was the attractive red-head sitting in the corner of the bar, glaring out the window. She sent Dean a scornful look and shortly said, "Anna." before turning her attention back to the window.

"Good job!" Cas exclaimed cheerfully, taking another gulp from his glass. Meg sighed, sending everyone pointed looks, and over the course of the next couple of minutes they found excuses to leave the booths and meander away, leaving Cas and Dean somewhat alone, though they were all hovering nearby. Dean slid into the booth and settled himself across from Cas, who continued to watch him with a smile, before stating, "So, uh...how ya doin' buddy?"

Cas's happy expression quickly slid off his face, replaced by extreme, almost exaggerated, sadness as he stared into his glass. "Dean, I should've listened to you. Bela…Bela only came onto me because of Crowley. Then she broke up with me. Loudly. In the cafeteria. And everyone was there and watching. It was terrible." He murmured unhappily. Dean stayed silent, not completely sure how to respond to that, though he knew "I told you so" was probably not the correct response at this point.

Luckily for him, he didn't actually have to respond, as Cas slumped down over the table sulkily, his blue eyes unfocused and staring down at the tabletop as he muttered "This isn't fun, I don't wanna drink anymore. I think I'll just sleep…" he trailed off, his eyes closing.

Dean smiled, this he could deal with. He had years of getting a reluctant Sam to bed as training, one drunk friend would be a piece of cake. He tapped the unhappy Cas on the forehead to gain his attention, chuckling at the one eye that opened to glare blearily at him, before stating, "Well, you can't sleep here, dude. If you wanna sleep somewhere, we have to go back to the dorms."

"But Deeeeeaan…" Cas whined (honest to God whined like a two year old), sending Dean a wide-eyed pleading look.

Dean somehow managed to resist the unintentional puppy-dog eyes, staying firm as he replied "No, Cas. Bars are for drinking, not for sleeping." And wasn't he a bit of a hypocrite, considering how many times he'd managed to fall asleep in a bar...but that's not the point here, damnit. Cas sighed, thankfully turning off the eyes as he rubbed his face tiredly with his hands, and nodded in understanding.

"Do you think you can walk?" Dean asked, standing from the booth.

Cas's expression turned mildly offended. "Of course I can walk, I'm not that drunk." Cas said with an exaggerated eye roll as he stood from the booth with affronted dignity, though he seemed too drunk to be overly upset. Dean smiled at him and took a step back, raising his hands in surrender, but quickly stepped closer as Cas swayed dangerously. "Okay, maybe I'm a little drunker than I thought." Cas murmured, leaning heavily against Dean.

Dean hummed an amused noise and pulled Cas's arm over his shoulders, heading toward the door. He saw Meg and Co. giving him impressed and grateful looks, other than Anna who was still tracing the rim of her cup. He gave them a little wave as he supported Cas on their way out, making his way to his pride and joy. The Impala. His baby. He was about to let a peaky looking Cas get in his baby. Why had he thought this was a good idea again?

He sent the sagging Cas a sideways glare. "Man, if you puke in my car, I swear I will eviscerate you." For the sake of his sanity, he took Cas's groan as agreement, and maneuvered him into the car, shutting the door behind him and quickly moving around to the driver's side. He got in and turned on his car, pulling out of the parking lot and heading back toward campus, carefully so that he didn't upset Cas's stomach. When they got back to campus, it seemed that all the liquor had caught up with Cas, as he was really out of it.

Dean managed to get him out of the car without incident, and was practically dragging him along the hallways when he realized that he had no idea where Cas's dorm was. He'd automatically driven over to his side of the dorms, so they could be on the wrong side of the building for all he knew. In fact, they most likely were, since mostly seniors lived on this end of the dorms, because it was a bit too high priced for the average incoming freshman. He groaned and looked at Cas asking, "Cas, buddy, where's your room?" His only response was a giggle and a slurred comment about the color of the walls.

He sighed, trying to reach his phone, but he realized that if he let go of Cas to get it he'd topple over. And getting a drunk person up after they'd fallen over was a chore he knew he wasn't in the mood for. He sighed again, deciding that it'd be best to just take Cas to his room for now, and then he'd call Jess and get her to come get him, or at least tell him where Cas's room was.

He half-dragged, half-carried the staggering Cas to his room, somehow managing to unlock the door without either of them collapsing, and allowed him to topple onto the bed (since if he'd toppled anywhere else he'd be harder to get back up, and he'd probably hurt himself). As a senior, he'd been allowed one of the larger rooms on campus; it was basically like a mini-apartment with a bedroom, bathroom, a small living room, and enough space for tiny kitchen appliances.

He stayed for a moment, staring at the corpse-like Cas who hadn't even bothered to roll over, wondering if he should turn him so that he didn't suffocate, but the decision was taken out of his hands when Cas rolled over onto his side with a groan. He sighed again, leaving the room to grab his phone and call Jess instead of texting her.

The phone rang five times before Jess picked up, her voice slightly breathless as she answered, "Hello?"

Dean allowed a smirk to cross his face. "Hey Jess. You and my brother having fun?"

He could almost hear her blush through the phone as she cleared her throat and changed the subject. "So, uh, do you have Cas?"

"Yeah, but I've got a bit of a problem." Dean replied, glancing back toward his bedroom.

"What is it? Is he okay?" Jess sounded panicked, and Dean almost facepalmed; he really needed to use his words better.

"No, no, Cas is fine!" He hastened to reassure her. "I just don't know where his room is."

"Oh, thank goodness." Jess replied, sounding relieved but hesitant. Dean waited, the two of them falling into a bit of an awkward silence.

"So...where's his room?" Dean prompted, just this side of irritated (he couldn't be mad at Jess! She was just so nice and caring and…don't judge him).

"I, uh...I don't actually know…" Jess replied slowly, sounding sheepish.

"...what." Dean deadpanned.

"Well, Castiel and I are friends but I've never actually been to his room. I honestly couldn't even tell you what side of the dorm he's on. But I could call Meg and ask!" She spoke quickly, seemingly afraid he was angry. He scrubbed a hand tiredly across his face, groaning slightly. "I'm sorry." She said in a small voice, which took the little bit of wind out of his sails. He couldn't get angry with the girl he considered to be a little sister of sorts.

"It's fine." He murmured. "And don't bother calling Meg, he can just stay here for the night. I think he already passed out anyway."

"Are you sure?" Jess replied. Dean nearly snorted.

Of course he was sure, damnit. It wasn't really any trouble to have an attractive, blue-eyed brunette in his bed, though he could certainly think of something more fun to do than sleeping...wait, those were the kind of thoughts that would get him in trouble. He shook his head, pushing shooing away the pesky thoughts, and replied. "Yeah Jess, it's fine. And I'll make sure he's okay."

"Alright. Thanks so much, Dean." Jess said, promptly hanging up.

"You're welcome." He replied to empty air, flipping his phone shut. He sighed again, muttering "The things I do for friends." and completely ignoring his subconscious's idle contemplation of whether he'd been talking about Jess or Cas, he headed back into his bedroom, but paused just as he entered the room.

Cas had moved from his cadaver-esque position on one side of the bed to sprawl over nearly its entire surface, his head buried in Dean's pillows, the arm closest to the desk hanging off the bed. Dean smiled, a genuine almost sappy grin usually reserved for moments alone looking at pictures of family reunions, or when no one was looking at him as he watched his brother and girlfriend be in love with each other. He stepped closer, staring at Cas's prone form.

His dark brown hair was all over the place, and his face had an obvious 5 o'clock shadow. His clothes were a bit dirty, probably from tumbles on the ground before Dean got there, and he had a bit of some purple-ish liquid staining the shoulder of his trench coat (probably the purple-nurples, his brain supplied helpfully, Gallagher's was damn near famous for them).

He took a step toward the bed, automatically making to take Cas's shoes off as he had god knows how many times for a sleeping little brother, before he jerked back, startled. What the hell was he thinking? Cas wasn't his little brother, they were barely even friends! He couldn't just randomly strip him while he was asleep, that strayed way too far into the creeper-zone.

But, his subconscious piped up, he couldn't let Cas stay in dirty clothes on his bed, right? And it wasn't like he was gonna strip him all the way, just his shoes and trench coat. Completely normal, yes? He took a deep, shuddering breath, and released it in a gusty sigh before steeling himself and continuing his aborted step forward.

He came to the bed, kneeling down next to it as he untied Cas's shoes and slipped them off one-by-one, and stripped him of his socks as an afterthought. Then, he stood and, with a deep fortifying breath, began divesting Cas of his trench coat. He gently coaxed Cas's arms out of his baggy overcoat and began to tug it from under his body. He paused, holding his breath as Cas mumbled in his sleep, and releasing it in a sigh of relief as Cas just rolled over, burying himself deeper into Dean's pillows.

Dean gently laid the trench coat over him, since he was lying on top of the blanket, and stepped away, ignoring the oddly adorable picture Cas made. He retrieved Cas's shoes and socks from the floor, putting the socks in the shoes and placing both next to Dean's boots (the mixing of shoes giving him an oddly fluffy and domestic sensation), and retrieved a box of Advil and a bottle of water, as Cas was gonna have one hell of a hangover when he woke up. He tiptoed over to set them down on the desk next to his bed, smiling down at the other man again.

He reached out to brush a piece of hair off his forehead, but quickly flinched back when he realized what he was doing. He tiptoed back the way he came, ready to have a fitful (yet chivalrous) night's sleep on the carpet, but before he could leave he heard a deep, muffled, gravelly voice say, "Don't go." He turned around, looking back over at the bed. Cas was still face down in his pillows, so for a moment he thought he'd imagined it. Then Cas spoke again, lifting his head slightly and calling out "Dean?" in a small voice. Dean sighed, walking back over to the bed.

"Yeah bud?" he replied, giving into the urge to flick the piece of hair off Cas's forehead. As he was retracting his hand, Cas suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist, startling him slightly.

"Stay?" he begged, his blue eyes wide, pleading, and slightly watery.

Dean tried to resist (common sense warred with something soft and fluffy in his chest), but he broke in seconds murmuring, "We're gonna need to get under the blankets, cause both of us aren't gonna fit under that trench coat." and earning himself a tired, but beaming grin. It would be a tight fit for two grown men to fit on his double bed, but he'd shared a twin with his overgrown brother once, so he was sure they could manage.

He somehow managed to maneuver the comforter from under an unhelpful Cas, roll him to the side, and slip in next to him, leaving about a foot of space between them. To manage this he had to be practically hanging off the bed, in fact one arm actually was hanging off the bed, fingers brushing the ground as he stared blankly up at the ceiling, but at least his self-control wasn't being tested this way.

Of course, Cas seemed to exist just to test his self-control, so as soon as he'd relaxed and begun to fall asleep, Cas rolled over, squirming closer to him and tucking his head into the crook of Dean's neck. He yelped slightly at the feel of Cas's cold nose against his neck, and was just about to comment about personal space when he felt Cas's shuddering breaths and the tears on his neck, and swallowed his words with a sigh (he's been sighing a lot since he met Cas).

He pulled his arm from under Cas, ignoring his feeble protests and wrapped it around his shoulders, drawing him into a side hug. "Let it out." he murmured, kissing Cas on the side of the head like he used to do for his little brother when they were young. This opened the floodgates; Cas broke down sobbing pathetically on his shoulder, arms wrapped around him and holding him like he was an island in the middle of the sea.

Eventually, Cas dried out, his sobs turning to sniffles and eventually petering off into nothing as he fell asleep. Dean's last thought before he fell asleep was that Bela Talbott was one cold-hearted bitch.

oOo

Dean's first thought when he woke up was that he must've been really drunk last night, as he didn't even remember taking someone to bed with him. He didn't feel hung-over though, odd. He opened his eyes slightly and, seeing short, dark brown hair inches from his nose (the scent of which, it must be noted, was ridiculously appealing) and feeling a lack of breasts pressing against his chest, concluded that he was lying with a dude. And considering the lack of pain in his ass, he figured he'd probably topped. He hoped he hadn't been too out of it to wear a condom, some people complained about that kind of thing.

He closed his eyes again, and grumbled quietly, shifting slightly as he tried to pull his numb arm and shoulder from under the heavy weight resting on it. The answering groan had his eyes shooting open in surprise as he stared, blearily confused, at the top of a now familiar head.

"Cas?" He tried to ask, but it just came out as a quiet, choked, questioning sound. He cast his sleepy mind back, frantically trying to remember how he'd gotten into this situation. It was hard though, his mind was fuzzier than usual, a phenomena which only occurred on the rare occasion that he got a good night's sleep. As a college student working toward a master's degree, he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten this good of a night's sleep...but back to the matter at hand.

He poked and prodded at his subconscious, begging it to send him some kind of explanation, and it grumbled tiredly before passing giving up the memories of last night. Memories retrieved, and conscious appeased (because he'd have felt like a complete dick if he'd somehow taken advantage of his drunk friend), he began attempting to sneakily remove himself from Cas's octopus-like grasp.

He held his breath as Cas groaned again, his head lifting slightly. Cas squirmed impossibly closer, slotting their hips together with a satisfied hum and pillowing his arms on Dean's chest, taking a deep breath which he released as a sigh as he fell back asleep. Dean released a sigh of relief through half-crushed lungs, waiting another few minutes to be sure Cas was asleep before he again began trying to maneuver himself from under Cas.

After a trying half hour, the duration of which was spent in fear with many false starts and heart-stopping moments, Dean finally managed to maneuver himself and his over-eager morning wood out of the bed. A pillow took his place in Cas's arms and, ignoring his jealousy against the innocent inanimate object, he padded silently out of his bedroom, heading to the bathroom.

He turned the water on cold, ignoring his dick as he began thinking of other things; his homework, his plans for Christmas, and eventually he was calm enough to turn the heat up high and just enjoy the water. He turned the shower off, grabbing a towel and drying himself off before wrapping it around his waist. He opened the doors slightly, wondering if Cas was awake yet, but the steady breathing that still filtered through his room told him otherwise.

He snuck through his rooms again, managing to procure a clean pair of boxers and sweats, and put them on, tossing his towel over his shoulders. He wandered into his mini-kitchen, pulling out an electric skillet and grabbing the half-full carton of eggs and some bacon from the fridge as well as, after precursory sniff, the half-full carton of milk.

He cracked the eggs into a paper bowl and whisked them with a plastic fork before adding a bit of salt and pepper. After checking expiration dates, random bits of vegetables and a piece of cheese he found in the fridge were also added to the mix, and an appealing aroma began to filter through the room. He couldn't make much, in fact he was damn-near useless in the kitchen for anything that didn't come out of a box, but his post-hangover breakfasts had been perfected during his stint in college. The delicious smell of his post-hangover breakfasts had been known to bring people back from the brink of alcohol induced comas, so he was unsurprised when he heard a loud thump from his room followed by swearing.

The deep, unusually husky voice that the swearing came out in, however, surprised him, and he began carefully stirring the eggs and singing the alphabet backwards to the tune of the alma mater of his elementary school to distract himself...which he was quite impressed with, honestly.

Moments later, his bedroom door slowly opened, and Cas came stumbling out, one hand holding his head, and the other outstretched toward the wall to steady him, his eyes squinted against the sunlight that poured in through the windows. Dean smirked, but his voice was quiet when he called, "The bathroom is the door across to the right." Cas jumped, eyes wide as he looked to Dean as though surprised to see him (and really, Dean wouldn't be overly surprised if he remembered nothing from last night, he'd been drunk as fuck). The motion caused him to groan, face pale, and he ran to the bathroom. The sound of retching floated out to him moments later and Dean rolled his eyes, though not unsympathetically.

He finished cooking, and by the time he heard the toilet flushing, he'd dished out the eggs and bacon onto two different paper plates and grabbed plastic utensils for the two of them to use. Cas came stumbling out of the bathroom toward the living room, looking a bit better than he had when he went in, though now he looked oddly uncomfortable and awkward.

Dean silently passed him his plate and sat on the floor gesturing for him to join him when he remained standing. The two of them ate in an odd silence; it wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. Cas was avoiding Dean's eyes, and Dean was content to let him, still dealing with the awkwardness of trying not to jerk off to his friend in the shower this morning.

Eventually, they'd finished, and Dean finally broke the silence asking, "Did you get the Advil next to the bed?" Cas shook his head, still not speaking. "Alright." Dean murmured easily, standing up and grabbing his and Cas's plates, and throwing them in the trash on the way to his room, quickly retrieving the bottle of pills and coming back to Cas, handing him both the bottle of pills and a bottle of water.

Cas finally looked at him then, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of shame, embarrassment, sadness, and remorse. "Dean, I'm so sorry." He murmured sincerely, his eyes wide and pleading for Dean to believe him.

Dean felt his heart melt at the unintentional puppy dog eyes, and his hand moved without his permission, resting itself on Cas's head and affectionately ruffling his feather-light hair. "S'all good, Cas." He murmured, sending him a smile.

Cas frowned slightly, replying, "No, it's not okay. I should've listened to you. I think I knew you were right, but I didn't want to believe it. I know you were just trying to look out for me, and I was...I don't know. Hurt, maybe? I thought you were looking down on me, but...you were just trying to help, and I ignored you." Blue eyes fixed themselves on the floor.

Dean frowned down at the man who was now avoiding his eyes again. Removing his hand from Cas's hair (and dear god did he have to force himself to; he could run his hands through the silky stuff for days), he kneeled down in front of him, tilting his head up toward him with one finger when he didn't look up on his own, some part of his mind storing away the way Cas's breath hitched at the move. "Cas. It's okay. I forgive you. I don't wanna hear any more on it, got it?" He murmured seriously, staring deeply into his eyes (just to prove a point; he wasn't lost in them or anything) and smiling when Cas nodded, a soft smile on his face.

"Good." Dean replied, plopping down on the floor next to the still seated Cas. "Now that we've been through that, what've you been up to?" His grin was bright and mischievous, and Cas's answering smile, though hesitant, was happy.

"I went to the nearby art museum?"

Dean resisted the urge to reply, "Are you asking me or telling me?" Like some annoying elementary school teacher, and merely replied, "And how was that?" curiously to Cas while cupping his chin with his hand and leaning his elbow on his knee.

He found out that day that Cas could be quite the chatty cathy, if only you gave him something he was passionate about to talk about. Luckily for Dean, his little brother's wife, 'scuse me, girlfriend, was an art major, so he could fairly hold his own in a conversation. Mostly though, he just enjoyed listening to Cas talk.

His eyes lit up with a passionate fire, and he used expressive hand gestures. At first, Dean could basically keep up with what he was talking about, but eventually he gave into the urge to zone out somewhat, his slightly glazed over eyes focused more on the shape of Cas's mouth as he spoke rather than the words coming out of it.

He zoned back in a bit more when he noticed that the lips were no longer moving, and began flushing in embarrassment when he looked up and saw Cas staring at him with a slightly amused expression. "I'm sorry, what?" He said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Cas's slight amusement grew to a small smirk as he replied, "Well, someone's not quite awake yet. You've been staring into space for the last," Here he paused and glanced at the watch on his wrist that Dean hadn't even noticed, "Minute and a half."

Dean's blush deepened as he coughed and laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that…" As he trailed off he could feel his flush making its way down the back of his neck. "I'm never a morning person without coffee, which neither my brother nor my friends thought to bring me today." Which, really, was probably a good thing; adding another person to this morning's awkwardness probably wouldn't have helped much.

Cas suddenly started, jerking himself from the slight slump he'd been in and startling Dean from his thoughts (which was quite fortuitous considering the direction they'd been headed in). "Oh crap, my friends! They're probably worried about me!" He frantically patted himself down, seemed to suddenly notice he wasn't wearing his trench coat, shoes, or socks, and looked to Dean quizzically.

Dean refused to allow himself to blush, and merely stated, "Your coat's in the bedroom on the chair, and your shoes and socks are by the door." Cas sent him an unreadable look, though it seemed closest to amusement, but silently headed to retrieve his coat from the bedroom without comment. As he came back, he was checking each of his pockets, pulling out pens, charcoal, a small writing pad, and a few other odds and ends, but not finding his phone.

Upon the realization that his phone was not upon his person, Cas quickly stood, Dean scrambling to follow and nearly falling ungracefully on his face. "I have to go, it looks like I left my phone in my room, and I know my friends are probably frantic by now." Cas said, oddly apologetic as the two of them crossed the living room and went to the door. Dean resisted the urge to offer his phone or tell Cas that Sarah knew where he was, because he really shouldn't want Cas around as much as he did.

Dean grinned in response. "Alright dude, I'll see you around. Hopefully with fewer purple nurples though." Cas flushed slightly before sending Dean a small genuine smile. Dean's breath caught in his chest, his heart stuttering before racing madly. Cas's smile lit up his face, making his blue eyes shine and twinkle madly. He felt an odd sense of loss when Cas's smile dropped, and the idle thought that he'd be doing his utmost to see it again was shoved deep into his nearly overflowing subconscious.

Cas stepped closer, his intense gaze boring into Dean's. Dean felt something charge the air around them, his eyes flicking to Cas's nose, his slightly parted lips, and back to his eyes. There was something heated, something predatory in those blue eyes, and he found himself leaning forward slightly-

Their moment was broken by a sound down the hall; Cas blinked and Dean was finally able to pull his gaze away, locking it somewhere around Cas's shoulder. And what a gorgeous shoulder it was-he averted his eyes completely as his phone rang, and he mumbled something unintelligible to Cas as he fumbled it out of his sweatpants pocket.

"Hello?" Dean murmured, hopefully keeping the relief out of his tone as he waved to the now retreating Cas. He covered the mouthpiece of the phone, calling out quietly, "Don't be a stranger!" and luckily sounding less awkward than he felt. Cas glanced back over his shoulder, once again catching Dean in his intense gaze. He hesitated before murmuring a thank you and walking away down the hall. Dean definitely didn't watch his ass as he left.

(He totally did.)

"Dean?" His brother's voice brought him from his Cas induced trance.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Don't get your panties in a knot." He muttered. He could practically hear his brother's bitchface through the phone.

"Well sorry, you're the one who didn't respond when I said your name like a billion times." Sam stated. Dean could practically see him standing there with his hand on his hip, bitching into the phone as Jess sat nearby grinning, and it made him smile. He ignored this, moving on with the conversation (ribbing).

"So, what do you want, Sammy?" he asked, moving back into his room.

"It's Sam, not Sammy," came the well rehearsed and automatic response, "And I'm calling for Jess. She had to leave early for class and didn't want to call either you or her friend that early, but she wanted to make sure he got back okay. What was his name? Cassiel?"

"It's Castiel." Dean corrected idly, "And he's fine. He just left as a matter of fact, so you can tell her he'll probably call or text her soon."

"Wait, he just left?" Sam asked, sounding confused.

"Yeah, didn't Jess tell you? We didn't' know where his room was, so he bunked with me last night. Dean said absently, his mind focused elsewhere (and certainly not on Cas, no sir).

"What? Couldn't you have called one of his other friends or something?" Sam asked, sounding even more confused.

"Well, yeah, I guess, but Cas was already asleep by then, and I figured it was easier to just let him stay." Dean explained, still mostly focused on controlling his libido.

"Ah. I see." Sam murmured, something unidentifiable in his tone.

It sounded like Sam new something he didn't, and it made Dean oddly nervous, so he nonchalantly said, "What's up with you, Sammy?"

Sam's awkward response of, "What? Nothing! Nothing's up! Nope…" didn't exactly reassure him.

Dean paused, suspicion waring with amusement and stated, "You're a terrible liar, you know that Sam?"

"Oh wow, would you look at the time? I gotta go, Jess'll be wanting to know her friend's okay!" Sam said, and hung up without another word, leaving Dean standing in his room alone, blinking in confusion.

He went to his bed, sinking down on it slowly, and then flopping onto his back with a deep sigh as he allowed himself to actually think through what had happened earlier. With this mental run through, he came to the realization that he was definitely attracted to his straight friend, Castiel Novak. Which was just. Fucking. Peachy.

(His subconscious breathed a sigh of relief, releasing its tight hold on some of the emotions it had sequestered away as Dean slipped into unconsciousness.)

oOoOo

A/N: I did in fact breach the 3k barrier, so that's something to be celebrated. XD Yay for sexual tension! Thanks to my readers, I love ya. I'll see you all next time for the next chapter (whenever the hell that is…)!