Ready to Fall

Chapter Three

Dean wakes the next morning with a crick in his neck and a set of wide, blue eyes staring adamantly at him.

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean grumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. Castiel is fully dressed, his hair still slightly damp from a shower, and Dean wonders just how long his best friend has been waiting for him to wake up. "How long you been watching me sleep? That's creepy."

Castiel ignores the question and instead says with more conviction than Judge Joe Brown, "Dean, I don't think you should tell your family we're not dating."

Dean forces his eyes back open and his heart stops in his chest. "What?"

"I thought about it last night and I think it's better if we play along. For your family's sake."

There's something about the way Castiel explains his reasoning that makes Dean feel like he's missing a vital part of the story, but Dean doesn't want to pry into the other teen's head.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Cas," Dean reasons, even though he wouldn't hate having to pretend to date Castiel for three months. The idea seems kind of nice actually, being able to take care of Cas like he would if they really were dating, having an excuse to touch him all the time and smile at him just because...  But what about after the three months is over? Dean reminds himself, and says as much to Castiel.

Castiel shakes his head. "I don't know," he admits. "We'd have to figure it out when the time came, I just..." he pauses to sigh, "I just don't think we should tell them."

Nothing that's coming out of Castiel's mouth sounds very much like the guy Dean's gotten to know over the past five months or so. Castiel is calculated in all his thoughts and actions, every move carefully thought out, every decision executed with precision. But this, with the I don't know's and the figure it out's has Dean itching to know just what it was that's changed Castiel's mind.

Dean knows he should argue the point more, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he just doesn't want to. So what if his family spends three months thinking Dean's snagged a guy who's actually pretty great, a guy who listens to Dean like he truly cares and looks at him like he's of the utmost importance in Castiel's life?

"Are you sure?" Dean finally asks. "I mean, we might have to hold hands at some point in front of them, or kiss or something to make it believable."

This Castiel seems to mull over thoroughly before nodding and answering with a resolute, "Yes, I'm sure."

Dean stares up at the ceiling, a mantra of bad idea-bad idea-bad idea playing on repeat in his brain, but when he can't think of any other counters to Castiel's suggestion he turns to his best friend and says, "Okay. I'm game."

"It's settled then," Castiel states with finality, as if they've just agreed to a formal business deal. "Now your mother almost has breakfast ready downstairs. I'm to tell you to get your lazy ass out of bed."

"My mom said that?" Dean questions, because while his mother is no stranger to foul language, he can't recall a time hearing her use it like that.

"Your father," Castiel corrects.

"Oh," Dean says and when he realizes Castiel has officially had his first run in with John Winchester he says it again, "Oh. He better not have given you too much trouble." 

"He didn't," Castiel reassures.

"Are you sure? Cause he can be a little..." Dean trails off trying to find the right word to describe his dad. He loves the man with all his heart, remembers a time he wanted to be just like him, but John Winchester is not the most openly loving person Dean's ever met to say the least.

"Gruff?" Castiel offers, "Yes, I've gathered. But, I assure you he was polite, now please shower so we can go downstairs. I'm hungry."

"Okay, okay," Dean gripes as he rolls out of bed, adding, "You're a bossy boyfriend." When he looks at Castiel's face, the other teen's expression can only be described as smug. 

In the shower, Dean closes his eyes as the hot water pounds against his back, working loose the tight muscles he garnered from a night of trying to sleep as still as possible, so as not to end up winding himself around his best friend.

It had been a long, restless night.

When he pads back into the bedroom, dressed for the day and hungry as a horse, Castiel is sitting on their bed reading a weathered paperback book.

"You ready?" Dean asks shoving his dirty clothes into the hamper his mother set up in the closet.

Castiel's eyes flick up from his book. "Yes," he says with a nod.

"Should we establish some ground rules before we go down? What we can and can't do?"

Castiel is quiet for a moment before nodding. "That seems appropriate," he agrees.

Dean nods too, racking his brain for anything he wouldn't feel comfortable doing with Cas. When he comes up with nothing he's both pleased and terrified by what that means. "No groping me in front of my family," he finally says with a smirk on his face, because the rules were his idea in the first place and not having any seems counterproductive.

Castiel's cheeks go red. "I can assure you that is not something you'll need to worry about."

 "I'm still going to keep an eye on you," Dean jokes and then asks, "What about you?"

Castiel shrugs. "I suppose just treat me as if I were your real boyfriend," he says.

Dean rolls his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock, isn't that the whole point?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel retorts with an edge of irritation in his voice that makes Dean smile for reasons he can't even begin to comprehend. "I only meant it's okay to act naturally. If you feel like holding my hand, hold my hand, if you feel like hugging me, hug me."

"Fair enough," Dean says.

"Okay."

Dean pulls a plaid shirt on over his t-shirt while Castiel marks his place in his book and then they're heading for the bedroom door. Dean's hand is on the knob, about to fling the door open, when Castiel catches his arm and pulls him backwards. His eyes are wide, sheer terror in them as he swallows.

"Cas, what's wrong?"

"I've changed my mind," Castiel states. "Can we just start with holding hands or-" Castiel takes a deep breath, "anything, but kissing? I've never kissed anyone before, and I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of your family."

Dean's brain stutters to a halt as he asks, "You've never kissed anyone before?"

Castiel rubs at the back of his neck and averts his eyes. "I've never had occasion," he finally says.

Dean stares at his best friend for a few seconds, processing that bit of information before asking, "Cas, have you dated anyone? Ever?"

Castiel is slow to shake his head, but when he does Dean feels like the floor is going to fall right out from underneath him. He suddenly feels like complete and utter shit over the idea that Castiel's first significant other isn't even real and that it's Dean nonetheless.

"Fuck," Dean mutters. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can go tell them right now, it's not-"

"I'm sure," Castiel states, not bothering to let Dean finish. "Just no kissing. At least not right now anyway. If- if that's alright."

Dean pushes all of the air out of his lungs as he nods, "Okay, sure. No big deal," and then he grabs Castiel's arms in his hands. "Just relax, okay? I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"Thank you," Castiel states, sliding his arms in Dean's grasp until his hands are in Dean's. He gives Dean's hands a light squeeze and then offers, "I trust you."

The weight of the words hits Dean and he nods, unsure of what to say in return. They stand there in silence for a moment determining once more that they're ready and then step out into the hall.