A/N: So I saw a gifset a few days ago that made me crave a fic where Dean has to introduce Cas to his dad as his boyfriend. And, not being able to find one (granted, I didn't look very hard) I decided to write one myself. So I brought John back from the dead and wrote this ridiculous little ficlet.

THIS IS FOR YOU, KENZIE. (And she's really the only reason I'm uploading it here it all, so you can all thank/blame her for that.)

Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. Obviously.

John Winchester had been back among the living for three weeks, and it was still as strange as it had been on day one.

The boys took it pretty well, considering. After all, Sam and Samuel had been brought back—what was one more resurrected hunter? But having their father back in the picture was different, and everyone knew it.

They had fallen into a sort of routine, living together while avoiding each other, tiptoeing around each other as they acted like nothing was wrong. Meanwhile, fierce whispered conversations took place between Sam and Dean outside the dingy motels where John couldn't overhear them.

"But what if he was brought back like I was?" Sam had insisted. "You know, missing his soul?"

"You were pulled from the cage, Sam," Dean pointed out. "Dad was in heaven. I think."

"But—"

"No buts. It's Dad. Besides, we re-soulled you. We can re-soul him too if we need to."

But if John was back, complete with soul, that still raised a whole host of other problems. Especially for Dean, who, in the years since John's death, had managed to come to terms with the fact that John was not the idol he had once considered him to be. In fact, though it felt like blasphemy to even think it, Dean knew that he was now a better hunter than John was. In the last five and a half years, Dean had dealt with more crazy shit than John had ever encountered in his hunting career.

Among this crazy shit was angels.

And there was one angel in particular—and the particular nature of his relationship with that angel—that he dreaded revealing to his father.

When Dean and Sam had filled in John on the five and a half years since he'd died, they had left out some of the finer details. Dean neglected to mention, for instance, that he had sold his soul for Sam exactly the same way John had sold his soul for him. They did tell John about Lucifer and how Sam went to Hell, but Sam didn't talk about his demon blood addiction that had led him to accidentally release Lucifer in the first place. And although they made a cursory mention of angels, neither of them said anything about Castiel. Sam was going to talk about him, but Dean shot him a glare and Sam quickly shut up. Sam knew, of course, about Dean and Cas. It was kind of hard to keep that sort of thing secret when you spend every single day around someone, and Dean (and especially Cas) was not the subtlest of people.

In the weeks since John's return, Dean had seen Cas a total of five times—not that he was keeping track or anything—and never for more than a couple of hours at a time, always in a place far away from John. But the visits had petered out, and it had been six days since his last appearance. Cas was busy, Dean knew, and he tried to convince himself that was all. But he had a feeling that he couldn't push down that Cas's absence had more to do with John's appearance than he liked to admit.

This week, they were staying in a cheap motel in a small town in Indiana as they tracked something that took only the fingers, toes, and tongues of its victims. Sam and Dean shared a room, while John had a room to himself one door over. That was their arrangement, which, if they weren't all exactly content with, at least they tolerated. On their first hunt back together, Sam had suggested that John take a single to have some space to himself, and the arrangement stuck. Neither of the boys had wanted to admit to their father that they felt uncomfortable sleeping in the same room as him.

"I think you've got to tell him, Dean," Sam said as they carried their bags in from the car.

"I don't have to tell him anything," Dean snapped, not even bothering to ask what Sam was talking about.

But now, alone in their room, Dean wondered if Sam was right. He was acting like an angsty teenager, hiding his secret boyfriend from his dad. But it was just temporary.

Yeah, he retorted to himself. Just like all the other 'temporary' things. A cold feeling pooled in Dean's stomach as he though of how he was neglecting Cas lately. It had been weeks since he'd prayed to the angel.

The truth was that Dean was afraid. He was afraid of his dad's reaction. John had returned and expected to take charge again, just like in the old days. But Dean and Sam had been through so much together without him that neither of them allowed it. And John was upset. He didn't say anything, but they could tell that he had expected his sons to be good little soldiers, following orders, and he wasn't too pleased to find how much they'd changed. Dean was not eager to fan the fire by throwing Cas into the mix.

It wasn't that John was homophobic. But he expected certain things from his boys, and Dean was pretty sure that sex with other men was not on the list.

Dean was heading to the mini-fridge to get a bottle of beer when there was a soft flutter behind him and a deep voice broke the silence.

"Hello Dean."

Dean turned around to see Cas standing entirely too close. "Hey, Cas," he said, his heart leaping at the sight of the angel. But then his stomach twisted at the thought of his father in the next room.

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other. Then Cas tilted his head to the side. "You look upset."

Dean stepped past him and sat down on one of the grimy chairs. "It's nothing," he said, cracking a smile as he opened his beer. "Just this thing we're hunting. It doesn't matter."

Cas looked around the room. "Where is Sam?"

"He went to get some food. He'll be back soon." Dean focused on the way Cas was nervously toying with the sleeve of his trench coat. "What's up?"

"Dean…" Cas hesitated, meeting his eyes. "Do you wish to discontinue our relationship because your father does not approve?"

"What?" Dean started to his feet. "Why would you say that?"

Cas looked down. "I thought that perhaps the reason why you called less frequently was because you no longer had interest in me."

"No no no no," Dean muttered, quickly crossing the space between them and pulling Cas into a tight embrace. "No, Cas. I want you."

"Oh," Cas mumbled into his shoulder, and Dean felt the angel relax in his arms. And it felt so good to hold him, like they were the one solid point in the midst of all the chaos whirling around them. Oh God, Cas, I'm so sorry. How could anything his dad had to say be more important than this?

"You know what?" Dean said, pulling away. "It's time he met you."

"That is customary, is it not?"

Dean grinned. "Yeah," he said, taking Cas's hand and squeezing it tightly. "C'mon."

He led Cas out of the room and into the hall, where John's room was right next door. Dean knocked on the door and opened it. "Dad?" he said, poking his head in.

"Not right now, Dean, I'm busy," John said, not looking up from his computer.

Dean stepped into the room and pulled Cas in behind him. "Dad, this is Cas."

John looked up long enough to run a quick glance over the dark-haired man in the dirty trench coat. "I've told you before, I don't work with other hunters."

"No, Dad," Dean said. He cleared his throat. "This is Cas. My boyfriend."

John looked up for real this time, staring at Dean before shifting his gaze to Cas. "Oh," he managed, seeming to choke slightly.

"He's an angel," Dean added.

John looked back at Dean, apparently managing to swallow some of his shock. "Well that's no way to introduce him to your father," he said.

Dean sighed. "No, Dad, he actually is an angel. From Heaven."

"It is good to meet you, Mr. Winchester," Cas said, extending his hand.

"Right." John stared at Cas's hand, then slowly stood up and shook it. "Good…to meet you too. Uh, sorry, what was your name—"

"I am Castiel."

"Castiel." John repeated the name slowly, committing it to memory. "Well, Castiel—"

"Dean's right," Cas interrupted. Dean frowned at him and gave a slight shake of his head, but Cas wasn't deterred. "You doubt his word, but he spoke the truth. I am an angel of the Lord. Your son is a great man. Thank you for him, Mr. Winchester."

Dean shifted his feet and cleared his throat. "Cas, you want to flutter off for a bit? Give us some father and son time?"

Cas kept his gaze fixed on John, a slight smile on his face. "I am perfectly content here, Dean."

"Yeah, but—" Dean was worried that his father's shock would soon give way to anger. He didn't want Cas there to see his dad yell at him, as foolish as that was. Cas could probably watch from any location, but it would make Dean feel better.

"Dean." Cas turned to him. "Don't you want me to…stick around?"

The lust in the rough edges of his voice around the unfamiliar phrase hit Dean almost like a physical blow. He wet his lips, staring at Cas, then glanced away abruptly as John cleared his throat. "Please, hold off on the flirting," John said dryly, sitting back down. "Spare me that, at least. So, Dean, do you want to tell me how you two met?"

"Well—" Dean began.

"I raised Dean from Perdition," Cas finished, despite Dean's warning look.

"You were in Hell?!" John shot to his feet.

"Not anymore," Dean said, attempting a smile, but it was more like a grimace.

"Damn it, Dean," John swore. "I sold my goddamn soul for you. That wasn't enough to keep you out of the pit?"

Dean closed his eyes. "It was—look, Dad—"

"Not now," John said, shaking his head. "I'm not in the mood for explanations." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So this is what you miss when you're gone for five years. Is there anything else you'd like to tell me, Dean?"

"Uh…" Dean thought about it for a moment. "Nope, I think I'm good for now," he decided, glancing at Cas.

John was opening his mouth to deliver an angry retort when the door opened and Sam walked into the room. "Hey, Dad, I got the—"

He stopped abruptly, seeing Dean and Cas standing together in front of John. "Oh."

"Come on in and join our family meeting, Sammy," Dean said cheerfully.

Sam put the bag down on the table and walked over to stand next to Dean. "How's it going?" he asked in an undertone.

"Well he hasn't started yelling yet," Dean replied. "I think he's still in shock."

"You knew about this?" John demanded of Sam, gesturing towards Dean, and, by extension, Cas. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sam frowned. "I think that decision lies entirely with Dean, don't you?"

"All right." John sat back down. "Scram, all of you. You're giving me a headache."

Dean turned and nearly pulled Cas bodily from the room. Behind him, he heard Sam say, "It's his life, Dad. He can do what he wants with it."

In the parking lot, Cas stopped Dean and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "I like your father," he said. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, he's not too bad," he said, pulling Cas closer. "So what are we going to do tonight?"

"I have a few ideas," Cas murmured, with a smile that could only be described as angelic.