CastieI has slept with a lot of people in the 13 years since he left his old gang, but no one does it like Dean fucking Winchester.

They're both lying naked on Castiel's bed, Dean with an arm around him and Castiel with his head on the man's chest. Something about it just feels so comfortable. Part of him thinks it's because it's familiar; part of him thinks it's in spite of that. Either way, he finds himself enjoying it a little more than he cares to admit.

But then there's a knock on the front door.

Shit.

"Ignore it," Dean says. "Whoever it is, they can come back later."

Castiel sighs and sits up. "I can't; it's probably—"

"Cas?" Charlie calls.

Castiel gestures vaguely in that direction. "Her."

"So what?" Dean asks. "She can come back later."

"If I ignore her, she'll probably just walk right in," Castiel says. He gave her a key to his place years ago, which speaks volumes about their friendship.

"She's not going to—"

The front door opens.

"Oh, never mind, then."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Go." He jumps to his feet and tugs on Dean's arm. "There. Now." He nods towards the closet with his head.

"But Cas," Dean says with a teasing smile, "you know how much I hate the closet."

"Get in the fucking closet," Castiel snaps.

Dean groans dramatically but ultimately, he does what he's told. As he's closing the closet door, Castiel rifles through his dresser drawer. He doesn't want jeans; he doesn't want dress pants; these ones are too small; ah, sweatpants. Perfect.

"Cas?" Charlie says again, quieter this time. "Cas, are you home?"

Castiel frantically throws his sweatpants on. There's no time for boxers; hell, there's not even enough time for a shirt. There's a soft knock on his bedroom door, and he kicks Dean's clothes under his bed. It's one thing to have his own clothes on the floor, but if she saw flannel here, she might have some questions.

The door opens just a crack, so Castiel walks over and opens it all the way. She jumps, startled, but her expression swiftly changes to one of worry.

"Hey, Cas, are you okay?" Charlie asks.

He cocks his head to the side. "Yes?"

"You're sweating." She puts the back of her hand against his forehead. "Are you sick?"

Or he hasn't showered since he walked six miles because he was too busy fucking his ex, a known criminal, but he likes her explanation for it better.

"Yeah, I think so," he lies. "I told you earlier, remember?"

"Oh, shit, you did," she breathes. "God, I totally forgot. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother—"

"It's fine," CastieI interrupts, hoping to move this along before Dean gets bored and steps out of the closet in his full naked glory, because that is definitely something he would do. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to apologize," Charlie says. "I don't like when we fight. It's weird. When you didn't pick up the phone, I figured you were asleep so I was just gonna leave some apology cupcakes on the table, but..." She shrugs awkwardly. "You're not asleep. You're here. As am I."

CastieI chuckles. "Well, I appreciate the cupcakes, but you really didn't have to apologize. You were right; I should've told her myself, and I definitely shouldn't have been that much of a bitch to you about it." He offers her an apologetic smile. "So, no hard feelings?"

"No hard feelings," she agrees. "And no more secrets."

Castiel fights the urge to glance back at the closet. He can promise many things, but complete transparency is not one of them.

"Do you want company while you're suffering?" she asks.

It takes all his self-control not to respond with a very emphatic, "No!" Instead, all he says is, "I'm just gonna go back to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You don't have to work if you're sick, you know," Charlie says. "Hell, even if you weren't sick, I think you still earned a day off. If I thought today sucked for me, I can't even imagine how much it sucked for you, having to see Dean Winchester again. Take a day to recover."

CastieI tries not to think about the fact that Dean could hear that. "I'll see how I'm feeling tomorrow, but right now, I think I just want to focus on work." With a halfhearted smile, he adds, "Sucks for the dead people, but at least I get a distraction out of it, right?"

Charlie shakes her head, amused. "See ya later, Cas. I'd give you a hug, but, you know, germs."

Castiel nods in understanding. "See ya — and thanks again for the cupcakes!"

"Any time, my dude," Charlie says. "Any time." She holds up the "live long and prosper" sign before turning on her heel and walking out.

Castiel closes the bedroom door immediately, and thank god he does because Dean doesn't wait another second to come back out. He shoves the closet door to the side haphazardly and leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed, an eyebrow cocked.

"That was disgusting," Dean tells him.

Castiel scoffs. "What was disgusting?"

He gestures at him vaguely. "That."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Thanks, Dean. That clears up a lot." He walks over to his bed and pulls Dean's clothes out with his foot. He's seen Dean naked enough that it doesn't really phase him, but he's going to need to put something on before he leaves.

"You're just so..." Dean makes a face. "Nice. All rainbows and sunshine and kittens."

"I'm sorry my desire to have a decent relationship with my partner is inconveniencing you," Castiel deadpans. He picks Dean's clothes up off the floor with his foot and grabs them with his hand, then holds them out to him. "Here you go. Have a nice rest of your life."

Dean grabs his clothes, but he doesn't make a move to go. "Come on, Cas. Things were going so well."

"Things were going tolerably," Castiel corrects him.

Dean takes his hand. "Come back with me."

CastieI shakes his head. "I can't."

"You can," Dean says. He tosses his clothes on the bed so he can hold both of Castiel's hands in his own. His gaze softens as he gazes down at the other man. "I've missed you. We've missed you. You could come back right now; everyone would welcome you with open arms, no questions asked."

"Dean..." Castiel says softly.

"Please, Cas," Dean says. "We have a good thing going — even better than it was when you left. We're raking in so much money from drug sales, we don't even need to steal anymore—"

"Dean, you literally robbed a bank this morning," Castiel reminds him.

"I didn't steal anything, though," Dean says. "I just took back what's mine. I didn't have the lockbox key, but it was still my box. That's all I took, I swear."

Castiel eyes him skeptically.

"Look, I'll show you," Dean says. He grabs his jeans off the bed and sticks a hand in the pocket. When that doesn't turn anything up, he tries the other side, this time with much greater success. He holds his hand out to Castiel to reveal three rings: two plain silver bands and one gold ring with a diamond. There's really nothing remarkable about any of them, so to say Castiel is confused would be an understatement. "See? That's all I took."

"Why?" Castiel asks.

"Because..." Dean tosses the jeans back on the bed, then uses his free hand to point to each ring individually. "My dad's wedding band, my mom's wedding band, and my mom's engagement ring. They were all in the safe deposit box in my dad's name." With a small smile, he adds, "I don't know how it's been getting paid for all these years because I sure as hell haven't been paying for it, but when I found out they were there..." He shrugs. "I figured I might as well take 'em back, so I did."

"Oh." Castiel looks down at them uncertainly. While he doesn't necessarily approve of armed robbery, he can see where the guy's coming from.

"See?" Dean closes his hand around the rings. "I told you, everything's fine. Everything's good. Not legal, I'll admit, but good. Hell, we're even renting a little apartment now — actually renting one; we're not just squatting in it — so we have a kitchen and everything!"

"Mm-hmm," Castiel hums skeptically. "And whose name is it rented under?" There's no way Dean would let any of the Hunters give their real name out, especially for a legally-binding contract. He wouldn't give the police a way to find them.

"Again I say, 'not legal,'" Dean says. "It's rented off-the-record. We slip the owner a wad of cash every month and he lets us keep the place, no questions asked."

Castiel snorts. "You've really got it made, huh?"

"We do," Dean insists. "Come on, come see for yourself. You're gonna love it, I promise."

CastieI sighs. "Dean, I can't. Don't you see? This is my life now — this, here. I have friends, I have a job —"

"You had all of that with us," Dean reminds him.

"No, I didn't," CastieI says. "I just tried to convince myself that I did."

"Cas..."

"I think you should go," Castiel tells him.

Dean hesitates, but ultimately, he decides not to fight it. He slips his clothes on, and Castiel watches, silent. Saying goodbye is the hardest part. He knew it would be from the moment he saw Dean sitting on his couch. It doesn't make it any easier.

Fully dressed, Dean stands in front of him, a frown on his face. He seems to be searching for the right words, but there's nothing left for him to say.

Castiel shakes his head. "Tell my brothers I love them, okay?"

Dean nods. "Before I go..." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out one of the silver wedding bands. He takes Castiel's hand and gently slips the ring on. "Something to remember me by."

Castiel swallows hard. "Dean..."

Dean kisses the ring, then drops his hand. "I'll see you again; I can promise you that much. If you decide you want to come back then, just say the word." Dean gives him a smile before he leaves, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Watching Dean walk away is hard.

Knowing they'll have to do it all over again another day is harder.

Castiel sits down on the end of the bed and buries his head in his hands. Maybe Charlie was right. He's not sure he's up for work tomorrow.