It takes an hour and a half, but CastieI makes it to his street in one (very sweaty) piece. It would have been so much easier to get a ride with Charlie like he was supposed to, but he has to admit, it was nice to have the time to cool off. Seeing Dean again really put him on edge, and he took it out on both Charlie and Jody. He'll deal with the latter at work tomorrow, but he should probably call his partner now to apologize. He owes her that much.

So that's what he does. He takes out his phone and calls her up. He holds his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he searches his trench coat pockets for the key to his apartment. Where the hell did he put it... Ah, there it is. He's just putting the key in the lock when Charlie picks up.

"Hi, Cas."

He frowns. She sounds so defeated, so emotionless. That's not the Charlie he knows and loves. He really overreacted, huh?

"Hey, Charlie," Castiel says. He opens the front door, ready to drop his shit on the kitchen table and flop down on his bed to talk to her. "Listen, I just —"

Shit.

Dean is sitting on the couch — Castiel's fucking couch — and watching cartoons, like this is the most normal thing in the fucking world. He smiles and gives him a wave, then puts a finger to his lips.

What the fuck? Castiel mouths.

Dean points at his phone, then drags a finger across his throat. Of course he wants Castiel to put the phone away. Of fucking course.

"Cas?" Charlie says warily.

He could tell her. He could tell her right now and there's nothing Dean could do about it. Sure, there's a gun on his waist, but he could only pull it out so fast, right? He could...

Castiel bites his lip. Talk about shitty timing. "I just wanted to let you know that I got home okay. I, uh..." He eyes Dean cautiously. The man just turns off the TV, then looks up at him with a stupid fucking smile on his face. He's up to something, which means what Castiel says to his friend next is probably not a good idea. "I think I'm gonna take a nap — you know, long day and all — but I'll pick you up tomorrow?"

"I think I'm gonna drive myself, actually," Charlie says.

Castiel grimaces. They've been alternating drivers in their two-person carpool for years. This has to be the first time either of them has tried to put a stop to it. Granted, he did it first, but it still stings. He just wishes he could apologize, just get it over with, but with Dean staring at him, that's probably not a good idea.

Finally, Castiel just says, "Okay, cool. I'll see you later, then."

"Bye, Cas."

"Bye, Char—"

Click.

Castiel grits his teeth. She didn't even let him finish saying goodbye. He fucked up. He has so obviously fucked up, he doesn't even know where to begin. No, actually, he does know where to begin: the son of a bitch sitting on the couch with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Castiel demands.

"Waiting for you, duh," Dean says.

"How —"

"You can find anything with the power of the internet," Dean says simply. "C'mere, sit down." He pats the cushion next to him. "We need to talk."

"No, you need to leave," Castiel says, "before I call the fucking cops on you."

Dean spreads his arms, a carefree gesture. "If that's what you want to do, go right ahead. We'll see how far that gets you."

Castiel narrows his eyes. Dean's right: even if he did call the cops, the guy would be long gone before any of them showed up. All he'd accomplish would be causing himself a lot of strife, and he has it bad enough as it is.

"That's what I thought," Dean says with a smirk. "C'mon, take a seat. I won't bite. Probably."

CastieI sighs. "You know, all I wanted to do was come home, take a shower, and go to bed. Is that too much to ask for?"

"By all means, go ahead," Dean says. "I would be more than willing to have this conversation in the shower."

CastieI doesn't dignify that with a response. He takes off his trench coat and suit jacket and drapes them over the back of a chair.

Dean lets out a low whistle. "That's not quite what I had in mind when I closed your curtains, but if you're that excited, by all means, we can do it here instead."

"I'm not going to sleep with you," Castiel deadpans.

"Fine, fine," Dean says. "Now, c'mon." He pats the couch again.

CastieI heaves a sigh. He's going to be in so much trouble if Jody hears about this. It's not like there's much he can do about it now, though, so he reluctantly takes a seat by Dean's side. He sits up straight, every muscle in his body tensed. Dean is much more casual; he puts an arm around Castiel's shoulders and leans against him, almost cuddling with him.

"So," Dean murmurs, thumbing at Castiel's lip. "What've you told your friends about me?"

CastieI moves Dean's hand away from his face and swallows hard. "I told them that I don't know you; that it's been years since we've spoken and —"

Dean puts his chin on Castiel's shoulder and looks up at him through his eyelashes. CastieI forces himself to look away before he finishes speaking.

"And I don't know where you've been or what you've been up to."

"Attaboy," Dean says. "My hero, always here to protect me."

"I wasn't protecting you," Castiel says. "I told them the truth."

"Right, right, I believe you," Dean says. "So you told them about Jack and Claire, right?"

"Well, no, but —"

"And, of course, you implicated Ketch, too," Dean continues. "And Mick, Benny, Crowley..."

CastieI's silence is all the answer he needs. Dean gently turns the other man's head until they're face to face, but when they're all alone so close together like this, he can't bring himself to meet his eye. His gaze drops to Dean's lips instead. He's not sure this is much of an improvement.

"You know," Dean murmurs, "they told me not to come see you. They told me you'd just turn me in."

"I will," CastieI says, his voice barely a whisper. The small smile that grows on his lips tells him that Dean heard it anyway.

"And you know what I told them?" Dean continues. "I said 'Not my Cas. My Cas would never.'"

CastieI squeezes his eyes shut. He spent months planning his way out of this. He refuses to fall back into it.

"And what do you know?" Dean puts his lips up to Castiel's ear and murmurs, "I was right."

Castiel bites his lip but he doesn't move.

"Now, I was thinking..." Dean lets his fingers crawl across Castiel's chest. He plays it off like an absentminded movement, but he knows exactly what he's doing. "They're not going to trust you anymore. Everything's gonna change for you now that people know where you come from. So what if..." Dean's fingers make their way to Castiel's face, and he gently tugs at his lip. "What if you came back to the fold, hmm? We could use someone with your... experiences."

CastieI takes a deep breath. "No."

"Why not?" Dean asks. "It'd be fun. You and me against the world, just like old times."

"No," CastieI repeats.

"You could put your time and energy where it really matters," Dean continues. "Helping the poor and the homeless, not criminalizing them."

CastieI moves his hand away again and meets his gaze. "No." He is not letting Dean manipulate him into this.

"So you're not sold," Dean surmises. "That's fine. If you change your mind, I'll be around."

"I've been back here for eight years and I've never seen you around," CastieI reminds him.

"And yet, here we are, twice in one day," Dean says. "It's amazing what can happen when I put my mind to it, isn't it?"

Castiel just rolls his eyes.

"Isn't it?" Dean repeats, quieter this time. He brushes his thumb against Castiel's cheekbone, and he shudders. "You know, I have nowhere to be for at least a few hours."

"Dean," Castiel whispers. It's supposed to be a warning; even to his own ears, it almost sounds like an invitation.

"And," Dean continues, "you seem to be off for the day..." He thumbs at the top button of Castiel's shirt. "What if we..."

"Dean, we can't —"

Dean cuts him off with a kiss, just long enough to make him stop talking. "Just this once," he murmurs. "For old time's sake."

CastieI bites his lip. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. And yet this time, when Dean kisses him again, it doesn't end there.

And CastieI doesn't even try to stop it.