Sorry this chapter is so short! I'm in college now and I suffered from writer's block. The next one will be better, I promise! Thank you all for the kind reviews! It really makes me so happy!



Dean sat on the top rail of the fence, watching the bareback bronc event. After they had kissed each other, he and Castiel had acted like nothing had ever happened. They went about their lives, not bringing it up again.

He was just so confused about this entire thing. He'd never done anything like that before, spontaneously kissing somebody. Let alone another guy. Dean took off his new hat, and pushed a hand through his light brown hair before putting it back on. He'd never even had provocative thoughts about another man before.

"Dean," a familiar voice said from behind him.

Dean craned around to see Sam sitting on his horse, grinning like a fool. "Hey!" He exclaimed, turning around and climbing down. "You guys made it just in time."

"Yeah, it was a long drive, but it was worth it." He studied Dean as he walked towards him. "Dude, are you limping?"

Dean back was still stiff from his fall at Bull Mania, it caused him to walk a little gingerly. "Yeah, I must have slept on it wrong or something. So, how was Texas?"

"Not much different from Kansas." Sam said with a grin. "The coach for the Sam Huston team gave me some pointers for throwing steers, which was really cool."

Dean was glad Sammy had had fun on his trip. He'd been having more fun than Dean had, laid up all week.

"Oh, I gotta go." Sam said, turning his horse away. "I'm third in the box."

Dean didn't feel like climbing up the fence again to watch Sammy ride. Instead, he leaned on the rail and watched. When Sam threw his steer in twelve seconds, Dean gave an impressed nod. That coach had really helped him, steer wrestling had never been Sam's strong event.

"Dean," A voice said from behind him.

Dean's heart thudded in his chest as he turned around. "Cas?"

"Are you ready to student direct for team roping?" His blue eyes met Dean's, then flickered to his dusty boots.


"How does your back feel?"

"I'm almost one-hundred percent." Dean said with a grin. He tried to act like nothing had transpired between the two of them the last time they'd hung out. It wasn't because he hadn't liked what had happened, he was just…confused about the entire situation. His entire life, he'd like girls. Hot girls. Now, all of a sudden he couldn't stop thinking about Castiel.

They walked toward the middle of the arena. "Sorry that I have talked to you since we, uh, we stayed at your house." Dean said quietly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Castiel said, keeping his head down. He didn't look up at Dean, which made the oldest Winchester uncomfortable. "Are you riding bulls today?"

"Yeah." Dean said. He smiled lightly at the smaller boy. "Don't worry, I'll be wearing my helmet." The doctors had told Dean that he could bleed from the brain if he took another hit like that. They also recommended that he not ride bulls for three months. Well, that wasn't going to happen. Being a national champion wouldn't come from sitting on the sidelines while you waited for your injuries to heal.

"Hello, boys." Dick said looking at the two of them approaching.

"Hi, Dick." Dean said smiling up at him.

Dick's smug smirk slipped off his face before he thrust his clipboard at Dean. "These steers are particularly unhelpful today, so pay attention Winchester. Don't be fooling around." He walked past Castiel, pressing the walkie-talkie in his hands.

Dean rolled his eyes and moved to the stripping chute. He called out the number, and heard Castiel repeat it into the walkie. He tried to avoid looking at Castiel throughout the process, but he could feel the other boy's blue eyes boring into the back of his head.

They finished the work and Dean started walking away. He was about to climb back onto the bucking chutes when a hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around.

"Dean, we need to talk." Castiel said, his face stern.

Dean sighed, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Okay?"

"I have to get Artemis ready for roping, will you walk with me?"

Dean nodded and followed him, hanging back a little bit. He walked to his trailer and stood back while he tacked up his mare. He watched as he fastened the saddle on with ease, buckling things where they needed to be buckled. "What's going on, Cas?"

Castiel finally turned to him, his blue eyes big as he stared at Dean. "I need to know that you don't want to talk about what happened, but we need to."

Dean swallowed, his face turning red. He worked hard to keep his face impassive. "Why?"

"Because, I can't perform properly with this weight on my chest. I know you can't either." He was standing close to Dean, his deep voice digging the words in like a sharp blade.

Dean pressed his lips together. "You're right. So what am I supposed to say?"

"We are still friends, right?"

Dean blinked at Castiel, taken aback. "You want to be friends still?"

"Why wouldn't I want to be friends with you, Dean?" Castiel asked, puzzled. He looked confused.

"Because we…"


Dean nodded. "Yeah, that."

"Dean, you're one of the only friends I have ever had. I would not let something like that stop me from keeping you as a friend."

"Yeah, we're still friends." Dean said, giving a small smile.

Castiel smiled back at him, then turned to put his bridle on his mare.

Dean was surprised, Castiel had been right. The massive weight that had been pressing down on his shoulders since that night had vanished. He felt two-hundred times better, and he felt like he could get on any bull and ride it for the full eight.

Castiel swung up into the saddle and turned his mare, putting his pigging string over his shoulder like a twine sash. "Good luck today, Dean. Don't get hurt." He said before trotting off.

"You too." Dean called after him. He watched as the grey mare trotted away, sighing. Eventually, he climbed back onto the rails to watch the rodeo. When Castiel was up his green eyes lit up with interest.

His calf was running particularly hard, but his mare stayed right behind it, putting Cas in the perfect position. Castiel caught the calf, stepping to the ground before his mare had come to a complete stop.

Dean quit watching the cowboy at that point, he was fascinated by the mare. Her ears were forward as she backed to keep the rope attached to the calf taught. She put that calf where it needed to be. She sat back on her big haunches working for Castiel. His attention was pulled from her when he saw Castiel's brown hat land in the dirt. He had fallen and face-planted, but he scrambled to his feet and tied his calf.

He mounted back up, his dark brown hair mussed where his hat had once sat and let the slack out of the rope, his face impassive as his time came back as a thirteen. He put his string back around his shoulders, and dusted his hat off. He put it back on, his blue eyes looking up at Dean as he trotted out of the arena.