Beep, beep, beep.

Dean reached over and slammed his hand down on the snooze button.

He groggily turned over in his bed, moaning as he tried to stand up. It was the third time his alarm clock had gone off that morning, but before he just hadn't had the energy to get out of bed.

Dean walked over to his closet and opened it, staring at the boring clothes he wore every day. Slowly he took out a plaid button up and slipped it on over his bare chest. He stripped out of the boxers he had slept in and into a new pair, jumping into some ratty jeans.

After he was dressed and had been to the washroom, he headed downstairs where his dad and brother were sitting at the kitchen table- John drinking a coffee and reading the newspaper while Sam ate a bowl of cereal.

"Hey," Dean said as he entered the kitchen and sat down.

"Morning, champ," John said, getting up and pouring Dean a cup of coffee.

"Cas called, he's on his way over," Sam told his brother as he finished eating his Rice Krispies and put the bowl in the dishwasher.

"Alright."

Sam excused himself to go outside for a bike ride and John settled down in the living room, turned on the television and began watching the news.

There was a knock at the door just as Dean finished his coffee. He discarded the empty mug in the sink and ran over to answer it.

"Hello Dean," Castiel said in his usual deep, gravelly voice.

"You ready to go?" Dean asked.

Castiel nodded. "I wouldn't have come yet if I wasn't ready."

"Right."

It was the beginning of summer vacation and the two of them had made plans to go out on a fishing trip. Dean went on fishing trips a lot with his dad when he was younger, and he'd always found them very relaxing. Castiel on the other hand had never been on one before.

Dean had been shocked and quickly put together a trip for them, giving Castiel no choice but to go.

The two of them collected the fishing gear from the shed in Dean's backyard, piled it into the Impala and took off for Lake Layalow – Dean's favourite fishing spot.

The Impala was Johns pride and joy. He'd restored the car completely – it had been junk before he got it. When Dean was younger, he'd help out sometimes. His knowledge of the car's mechanics was plentiful, and when he'd gotten his drivers license the year before, John had agreed to let Dean use the car as well.

Castiel sat in the passenger seat, tapping his hands on his lap lightly.

"So…" Dean said, breaking the silence that had been looming in the car since they'd left. "Are you excited?"

"I'm nervous. As you know I have no previous experience in fishing."

"Yeah? And?"

"Well I suppose I just have a lot of questions. What if I hurt the fish? What if the fish hurts me? What if-"

Dean laughed as Castiel started counting the questions on his fingers.

"Why are you laughing?" Castiel asked with a confused look on his face. These were very serious concerns of his, so why was his friend laughing at him?

"Don't worry about things like that, Cas. Fishing is supposed to leave you worry free and relaxed."

"But-"

"Listen. I'll show you how to bait the hook and throw the line okay? And if you want I'll take the fish off for you if you catch any. I've got lots of experience, so just leave it to me, alright?"

Castiel nodded, though what Dean was saying hardly lessened his worries. He was afraid about the trip because he didn't know anything about fishing, and he didn't want to mess up things for Dean.

Dean turned on the radio and flipped through a couple of stations before finding a good song, and dialed up the volume.

It was a nice day out, even if it was a little bit cloudy. It wasn't rain clouds though – only fluffy white clouds that dashed and darted in front of the sun. The air was warm. It wasn't so hot that they'd sweat, but it was cool enough to need a long sleeve shirt if you weren't directly under the sun.

All in all, it was the perfect day to go fishing.

Dean's fingers tapped on the thin, black steering wheel with the beats of the song.

Castiel stared intensely out the window, taking in the view of the river and forest to one side. He'd never seen this area before, but Dean seemed to know it like the back of his hand. They passed a small white shack-shop with a blue sign on the top saying 'Bobby's Bait.' A couple of cars were parked out in front, and a group of men holding fishing rods were chatting.

"Over there is where some people buy bait when they're fishing on the riverside," Dean commented, as he turned down the radio a little bit.

"Are we fishing riverside? Should we have stopped there?" Castiel asked, turning back in his seat, and watching as the shop disappeared from sight behind some trees.

Dean put out his hand and pulled Castiel down so he was facing front again. "I told you not to worry about anything."

"So if we aren't going back there, where are we going?"

Dean pulled down off of the paved road they were on and down a thick, dirt one. "There's this little part of the lake that's secluded and quiet. It's my dad and I's special place. No one else ever fishes there- well not from what I've seen. There's never been a day I've been there when the waters not calm."

"Well if you're implying that that particular body of water holds a special quality in that it is always still, I am sorry to inform you that you are incorrect. The stillness or roughness of the water depends on the wind and weather."

Castiel wasn't saying it to make Dean feel bad – he was just stating the facts like he usually did.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Then I guess my dad and I just pick the best days. I have a feeling this day will be no different."

"I hope so," Castiel said, swallowing. He was pretty sure they'd be fishing from a boat, and not from the beach like he'd been hoping. He'd never been in a boat before, and the whole idea of it seemed all together… unstable.

But Dean had planned this day out so that Castiel would get the real fishing experience, and Castiel would oblige.

"So how long until we are there?"

"Probably about ten minutes."

Castiel nodded. "I guess we should make conversation in the meantime."

"That's usually what people do," Dean said, smiling to himself at Castiel's usual awkwardness in social situations.

"Are you and Jo Harvelle having sexual relations?" Castiel asked out of the blue.

Dean, completely caught off guard by Castiel's question swerved on the road, almost missing his turn.

"What?" Dean asked, looking at his friend.

"Was that not an acceptable topic of discussion?" Castiel asked, putting his hands together. "My apologies."

"Where the hell did that come from?" Dean demanded, ignoring Castiel's apology.

Castiel shrugged. "I saw you to talking yesterday and your body language towards each other suggested that you were interested in each other. And yu being who you are I assumed…"

"Assumed that I what? You really don't know me at all," Dean scoffed, baffled by Castiel's comment. "Jo and I went out for coffee once. We talk sometimes but no, neither of us are interested."

"Hm," Castiel said, wondering where he'd gone wrong in his calculations of Dean's attraction level to people. He'd though strong blondes like Jo were Dean's type. Though he really had no idea.

He'd been trying to assess Dean ever since he met him – trying to figure out what Dean felt, towards whom he felt that way etc. He wasn't sure why, but Dean was so interesting. Perhaps he was so interesting because every time Cas tried to make predictions about his friend, Dean would come out of nowhere and surprise him with the exact opposite.

So strong blondes weren't his type after all, Castiel assumed. That left him just with the brunette category; if brunettes weren't Dean's type then Castiel didn't know what Dean's type was.

The rest of the ten minutes was spent uncomfortably shifting in seats, clearing throats and Dean adjusting the volume level of the radio several times.

Maybe it should have been normal for guys to talk openly about their relations with their other guy friends, but Dean didn't feel this way with Cas. It wasn't because he didn't trust the guy. Aside from his brother, Dean probably trusted Castiel the most out of everyone.

Something about the two of them discussing that though… just felt strange. Dean tried to blame it on their conflicting personalities – perhaps about how odd Castiel was when it came to other people.

But Dean knew it wasn't because of that. He couldn't quite place what it was but there was some other reason that he got flustered and choked up when Castiel tried to talk about dating and sex with him. Even just small comments that would be normal to any other people, Dean couldn't handle it well.

They pulled over on a small road by a dock.

"This is place," Dean said, his voice ripping through the weird silence that had grown between them. Castiel nodded and opened the door, glad to be out of the car.

They pulled the bags with the fishing rods and gear over their shoulders and trekked down to the dock.

"I remember one time my dad and I came here, and the dock had sunk beneath the water since it had rained so much that year," Dean said, smiling as he recalled the old memory. He pulled the bags off of his shoulder and made sure they had everything as he kept talking. "Neither of us had been expecting it, so we hadn't brought bathing suits or anything. My dad had to dive into the water in his clothes and swim out to the boat that had floated out. It was great."

Castiel thought it was nice how happy Dean got when he recalled on these old memories, and he was glad he could be there to share in Dean's reminiscing.

"Well that's everything," Dean said, picking up the bags he had and tossing them into a small boat to the right of the dock. Half of it was in the tall green reeds, masked from any wanderers on the road – though not many people ventured down that road anyway.

"Are we… Getting into that boat?" Castiel said, taking a deep breath. He thought once he'd seen how secure the boat was he'd be fine with floating out into the middle of the lake with it.

"It's perfectly stable," Dean said, hopping into the shallow water and pushing the boat out of the reeds. He was up to his calves in water now, but if he moved forward a couple of meters more, he'd plunge down to his waist, and in a few more steps he'd be under completely.

He pushed the boat out and motioned for Castiel to step in. "I'll hold it still will you get in."

The boat was a short, but wide blue painted model with two wooden benches. It was a tight fit with the bags of gear and the fishing rods, but fishing didn't require a lot of movement apart from moving the arms to reel. At least for the kind of things they'd be fishing for.

"Come on, you'll be fine," Dean told Cas encouragingly.

Castiel gently placed the rod bag on his back down into the boat on top of Dean's. Experimentally, he reached his foot out and placed it on the side of the boat, seeing how easily it could tip. He wasn't sure how to go about getting into the boat… what if he just kneeled down and…

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, as he watched Castiel getting down onto his knees and reaching forward towards the boat with his hand.

"I've never been in a boat before."

"It won't tip no matter what way you get in it. And if it does, this water is not even a foot deep."

Castiel got down onto his stomach when kneeling hadn't inspired him to get in the boat anymore. He turned onto his side and reached a leg out, placing it into the boat.

"Dean, I'm trying…" he muttered.

Dean's eyebrows knit together as he watched his brainy, yet tragically dim friend try to make it into the boat without killing himself.

Finally, Castiel got his foot sturdily in the boat, and then slowly lowered his second one into it. Both of his feet were in the boat, and he was clinging to the dock with his hands.

"Now sit down," Dean said, eager to get into the boat himself.

Castiel sat down clumsily onto the bench in the front. "It didn't tip over," he commented.

Dean smiled and rolled his eyes as he pushed them out a little bit farther and jumped in before the shallow water turned into a deep lake.

The boat they were in had no motor, so Dean was forced to paddle them out himself, which wasn't that big of a deal.

Once they'd gotten out into the middle of the lake, and Castiel had calmed down from his small freak out about being in the middle of the lake – hovering over a dark mass of who knows what that was down there – Dean showed Cas how to bait the hook and toss the line. They practiced a couple of times until Cas had gotten the hang of it.

Together, they cast their lines and settled down to wait. By now it was the afternoon, and fish weren't generally interested in eating at that time. They were usually more active in the morning and at night, but Dean didn't want to wake up early, and Castiel didn't want to be out on the water while the sun was sinking.

"Now is where we can just relax," Dean smiled, pulling the baseball cap he'd brought with him over his eyes, and leaning back to rest on the back of the boat.

Castiel sat silently, watching his line. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

He was afraid to move his arms around and adjust his spot incase he moved his line. What would happen if he moved his line? Would the fish get suspicious and move away from the peculiar worm? He stayed completely still, waiting for something to happen.

In the meantime, he moved his eyes around to study is surroundings – something he hadn't been able to do much of since he'd been closing his eyes and praying for his safety when Dean paddled them out.

The water was still, just like Dean said it always was.

Tall, green trees that blocked out the site of any and all man made structures surrounded the isolated body of water.

It really was beautiful, and Castiel could see why Dean enjoyed coming here so much. The sounds of the slight winds mixed with the noises of trees rustling and insects chirping, and it was truly relaxing.

Something tugged at the end of Castiel's line. It was small, and nearly unnoticeable, but Castiel thought it was suspicious all the same.

"Dean. What do I do?" Castiel whispered after a moment.

"What?" Dean said, moving the cap onto his head and yawning, moving his fishing rod over.

"Something is down there…"

"Did you get a bite?" Dean asked, smiling.

Castiel nodded, looking nervous.

"Calm down, Cas. Just remember what I told you. If you feel a bite, tug, and then reel, then tug again, and keep reeling."

Castiel concentrated on his line for another moment, anticipating another bite. When it happened, he yanked his arms upwards, throwing the rod above his head and shaking the boat.

"Woah!" Dean exclaimed as he reached both hands out to stable the boat. Large ripples were sent out from around them and eventually disappeared in to thin rings. "You don't need to tug that hard."

Castiel frowned and handed his rod to Dean. "Here, I don't understand."

Dean didn't take the rod from him. Instead he pushed it back into Castiels hands, ushering him to hold it back in position. Dean awkwardly maneuvered himself over the gear, throwing it down on the bench where he had been sitting to keep the weight distribution fairly equal. He sat down on the floor of the boat and grabbed onto Castiels hands that rest on the fishing rob.

"I'll show you how, okay?" Dean said, trying to stay calm as his hands were placed over Cas's – his rough, calloused skin meeting Castiel's soft, delicate skin.

Castiel breathed in sharply at Dean's touch. He tried to nod to what Dean had said, but he was more distracted by his friend who hovered closely beside him, and the nod probably looked like a confused head buck.

"When you feel a bite," Dean started, attempting to focus on the fishing rod. "Just pull like this," he finished, jerking Castiel's hand upwards – a lot soter than when Castiel had tried. "This is important because then the hook will get caught on the fish's lip and guarantee your catch – if you do it right."

Castiel nodded, but still couldn't speak.

Dean tried to pull his hands away, but resisted himself. His brain wanted to move, but his hands wanted to stay exactly where they were.

Castiel noticed how Dean was lingering, but he didn't mind. In fact he'd really have preferred if Dean stayed there. To help him with his fishing of course…

Something pulled on the line. Simultaneously, Dean and Cas pulled on the rod together, moving perfectly in time.

"Reel!" Dean said, excitedly.

Castiel gasped and started reeling in the line as quick as he could; Dean's sudden excitement had made him excited as well.

"Now pull a little bit," Dean said, guiding Castiel's arms back. "And now reel again."

Castiel didn't notice when Deans hands slipped from touching his arms to resting on his shoulders and back. Dean didn't really notice it either.

The long perch in the water flipped and flopped as it got closer to the boat, emerging from the water and spashing around, trying to resist Castiel's pull.

"You got it!" Dean called.

"We both got it!" Castiel said, laughing. The two of them peered over the side of the boat and looked at the fish. Castiel pulled the rod out of the water so they could see the length of it.

It was small.

But it was a fish, and they had caught it together.

"My first fish," Castiel said as the creature thrashed around.

"No longer a fish virgin!" Dean joked.

As Dean said it, they both realized where Dean's hands were. He had one hand clasped on the skin where the shoulder meets the neck, and another on the side of Castiel's arm.

Slowly, Castiel lowered the fishing rod, and Dean moved his hand up to the back of Castiel's face. Before either of them knew what they were doing, Dean went in for the kiss and Castiel responded with nervous enthusiasm.

It was a little bit messy, but it was soft, and gentle, and soon they'd forgotten where they were and what they were doing. Castiel let go of the fishing rod, which caught on the edge of the boat, which stopped it from falling overboard. Dean leaned back and pulled Castiel down in the bottom of the boat with him. The gear had been moved out of the way, so there was no problems there, except that Dean was lying on a paddle – but he didn't even notice. All he noticed was how different it felt to kiss Cas.

How good it felt.

It was like their whole friendship had been built up to finally reveal this part where he realizes that the feelings he'd felt about Cas were more than platonic. He'd thought about it before, but he'd always just brushed it aside as nothing until now.

Until now when Castiel was practically lying on top of him, running his hands through his hair. He could feel Castiel's knee resting on his leg, inching closer and closer to his waist.

"Dean," Castiel whispered, as he tried to pull out from their kiss but was just pulled back in by Dean.

"Shh," Dean said, silencing Castiel immediately, who continued with the kiss.

After another moment, Castiel resisted again. "Dean."

"What?" Dean said, slightly annoyed and bothered by the bright sun as he propped himself up from the shady canoe.

"It's just… the fish," he said, motioning to the fish that still splashed around at the side of the boat.

"Right," Dean mumbled. He'd completely forgotten where they were and what they were doing. He also forgot Cas didn't know how to take the fish off the line. He sat up and reached across, grabbing the rod. He swung the line up out of the water and over to him, taking the slimy, scaly fish in his hands. The feeling of the creature really didn't compare to the feeling of Castiel's smooth face and soft hands.

Castiel watched in silence as Dean effortlessly unhooked the hook from the fish's mouth and tossed it into the water.

"Well, I guess we should head back in," Dean said quietly, not looking at Cas. He didn't know why but he just couldn't look at his friend. He was a little bit embarrassed, and a tad bit angry at himself, but he was also filled with this odd feeling like he just wanted to grab Castiel again every moment and take his face in his hands and-

"But we only just started a while ago," Castiel said, blushing. "Started fishing I mean."

"We got here a bit later than I'd planned, and this was about the time we were supposed to leave. The bugs can get bad around this time," Dean said, hoping Castiel couldn't catch his lie. The bugs were not bad in the afternoon at all – mostly just at night or in the morning, but Castiel didn't have to know that.

"Okay."

That was the last word either of them said for a while apart from Castiel asking if Dean needed any help paddling them back. Dean of course declined and shooed him off.

Once they got back to the dock, Dean hopped out and pulled the boat up so Castiel could get out. Dean shoved the boat back into the reeds and collected their gear, handing half to Cas and heading back to the Impala.

They threw their gear in the back and piled in, heading back around the way they came.

There was a lot of tension in the car.

Castiel sat in his seat, tapping at his knees. It was similar to what he had been doing on the way there, but now it was because of something different. So many questions swarmed his head, just like they always did. What will happen now? Will Dean be all weird? Are they going to pretend it never happened or will they get together?

He had no idea what to do in a situation like this.

Should he make the first move or should he wait until Dean did?
Inevitably, he'd always wait for Dean to make the first move because he simply didn't have the courage or experience.

Dean pulled over.

"Why are we stopping?" Castiel asked nervously.

Dean stared down at the steering wheel.

It was sudden.

So sudden that Castiel jumped back and hit his head on the window of his car door as Dean got out of his seat and moved in to kiss Castiel.

"I'm fine," Castiel said, his cheeks flushing red as he pulled the worried Dean back in for the kiss.

After a moment, Dean pulled back from Cas and smiled.

"I like you… a lot," he said.

Castiel exhaled a laugh and smiled back.

"I like you a lot too."

"And I think this could work."

Castiel's nervousness about everything disapated and it was just him and Dean together. Together like they should be.

"I do to," he whispered, as he leaned forward and kissed Dean again.