Author's Note:

I would like to dedicate this to I2adiol2obot for requesting a prequel, so here it is, part one! I will write another one-shot with their first date, and another with the proposal :D This is from Castiel's P.O.V., the other two will be from Dean's. I have several multi-chapters on my writing agenda, but I am Destiel fluff deprived because the SPN writers hate me. *sniffles, gets tub of ice cream* I mean c'mon, we haven't gotten any good Destielness since "Dean and I do share a more profound bond." Anyways, lyrics at the end are from Find a Way by SafetySuit.

Thanks for reading!

Sam was researching and Dean was leaning against the wall sipping on a beer, so I took the moment of peace to disappear outside the motel. Something about the room suddenly seemed much more confining. I had been summoned to help them with a hunt, but my problem was I couldn't stand to be within a close proximity to the eldest Winchester.

My vessel was doing strange things to me. When I'd arrived in response to his prayers, I'd found myself standing within an inch of his face, his breath warm against my skin. He'd given me another lecture about personal space, but I had been flushed and heated throughout the one sided conversatio . I'd had the same irrational and confusing desire that I was having now.

I wanted to kiss him.

The urge had come to be with a shocking abruptness. As an angel, I was accustomed to being in full control of my emotions, but try as I might, I couldn't will away this new feeling. It happened every time I was close to him. My eyes were drawn to his lips, and I had to step back before I gave in to the desire to cover them with my own.

This was a new development to put it mildly. I'd never fallen victim to human indulgences before now. Yet something about that toned, golden skin and those bright green eyes was twisting me inside out. Thankfully the lighting of the motel was dim enough so he couldn't see the saturation of my cheeks whenever he was close.

"Cas, you okay?"

The sound of his voice sent a cold sensation down my spine that I'd learned was a shiver. It was not of the unpleasant sort. It snaked down my back and the coolness was quickly replaced by warmth that spread throughout my body and had my face flushing again. It was partially in response to the sound of his voice, which I'd taken quite a liking to, but mostly because I was embarrassed by these new feelings.

"I am fine, Dean," I lied.

"You actually think I'm gonna buy that?"

He knew me far too well for my liking. "I sincerely doubt it."

"C'mon man, spill. What's wrong?"

"My vessel is merely having minor complications." It was the truth, just not the entirety of it. A trick I had learned from the humans.

"Hungry?" he asked, walking over so that he was standing in front of me.

I took a subtle step back. "I suppose."

Again, it was mostly the truth. He had asked me if I was hungry, not what (or in this case, who) I was hungry for. It wasn't as if I could tell him what was really happening to me. I knew that not only did he prefer those of the female gender, but I was not naïve enough to ever think he could care for me the way I cared for him. It was more than just physical desire; I was fairly certain I had made the mistake of falling in love with Dean Winchester.

Ever since I'd begun "falling" for him as humans liked to phrase it, I had pushed the emotions to the back of my mind. Expressing them would only result in making things awkward between us. I was his friend and nothing more. Though angels only cared for the soul within the body and found the gender of the body irrelevant, humans tended to prefer the opposite sex.

"Come back inside, you look like you could use a burger and a cold one," Dean commented, slinging a casual arm around my shoulders.

I stopped, not allowing him to pull me along any further. If I didn't stop and regain a focused state of mind, the results would be catastrophic. I was tucked against his side and his face was only inches from mine. Kissing him would be as simple as turning my head and slightly leaning forwards.

"Okay chuckles, something is definitely wrong. What's up with you?"

My self control wavered before finally breaking. He was too close, too easy to reach. I leaned forward and pressed my lips fiercely to his. Just as I knew he would, he pushed me away. I blocked out the involuntary pang of hurt I felt when he looked at me with shock and borderline revulsion.

"What the fucking hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, shoving me away from him.

"I-I'm sorry…"

"I don't know what's going on with you, but let's get one thing straight: I kiss chicks! Hot little women with boobs! Not angels that apparently don't know when their best friend is straight. And if you can't get that through your head then Sam and I can finish this hunt by ourselves."

By the time he was done, yet another foreign sensation had worked its way into me. A hot stinging was prickling in the corners of my eyes. I wasn't familiar with the feeling, and I didn't understand what was going on until I felt a wetness trickle down my face. I was crying. Having only seen humans do it on rare occasion, I did not know what crying symbolized.

I shamefully peered back at up at him from under my eyelashes. His jaw was clenched tight, his face was red with anger, and his fists were clenched by his sides. Knowing he well and truly hated me, I swallowed hard (a human mannerism I'd learned that helped keep unwanted emotions in check) and turned to walk away. A hand grabbed my arm.

"Cas…are you crying?"

There was no anger in his tone. If I was judging correctly, he sounded pained and regretful. But I would not allow myself to hope that he could possibly still care about how I felt. I reluctantly turned to face him, knowing he could see my reddened eyes and heartbroken expression. Before now, I hadn't understood what the term "heartbroken" meant, but now I did.

"I understand that you hate me, Dean. Just let me go and I will not bother you again," I said flatly.

He sighed and scrubbed his hand across his face, muttering, "I am such a dick sometimes."

The statement seemed rhetorical, so I remained silent. I was about to disappear to anywhere that wasn't here, but he started speaking again. "After everything you've done, you deserve the truth. First, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean a word of it. The only reason I got so defensive…is because I didn't want to get my hopes up."

"I don't understand."

"Normally I do everything I can possibly think of to avoid the chick flicky, emotional conversations, but you should know something." He paused briefly before continuing, as if his next words would be difficult. "I wanted you to kiss me. Hell, I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. I just didn't want to entertain the idea that you had a thing for me. I figured I'd just get myself hurt."

My throat was tight for a reason that was anything but the sadness I'd felt just moments ago. He'd just said the words I hadn't dared to dream he ever would. Never had I imagined that he would care for me in the same way I cared for him. My vessel's heart beat rapidly as I carefully framed his face in my hands, feeling a little spark of hope when he leaned into the touch.

This time it was he that leaned down and kissed me. I closed my eyes and lightly pressed forwards, feeling his tongue slide into my mouth. Soon he was encasing me in his arms, holding me to him as the kiss deepened. His hand ran through my hair and down my back. I shuddered in pleasure as his fingers traced my spine.

"Cas, I think I love you," he whispered hoarsely, pulling away and leaning his forehead against mine.

I caressed the side of his face with my hand, feeling loved and secure in the warmth of his embrace. "I love you too, Dean."

"You know I'm gonna find a way to let you have your way with me

You know I'm gonna find the time to catch your hand and make you stay

I don't care what clothes you wear, it's time to love and I don't care

You know I'm gonna find a way to let you have your way with me."