summary: the chapter we've all been waiting for (or, the only thing that i could force myself to write)
an: i just wanna give a thank you the size of a small planet to bookaddict67 for their glowing review. as i read it, i had literal tears in my eyes and was clutching my bosom, and i was able to write a bunch of bull crap that was later refined into this. but really, you're a star. i'll answer some questions at the end of this chapter.

The slightly musty smell of the library they were in brought back both fond and hated memories to Castiel. It reminded him of his Nest, of the Book Room, where he would spend the majority of his time. Surrounded by old scrolls and parchments, he would revel in the thick silence of the room. When he was a young phoenix, no older than five hundred, this was where he would wait out the arguments, wait for the hurricane to blow itself out. As he got older, and as the papers grew more yellowed and curled and cracked with age, he and his many nameless vessels had visited the Book Room with more and more frequency. If no one else from his Nest saw him, then no one bothered him. It had been a win-win situation. He had been alone with his thoughts, and none of his family had to be with him. He had done his best to not let anyone know how lonely he was.

Thunk. Castiel set aside the thick tome he was reading to glance up at his companion. The vampire now had his head placed against the table, various papers and books scattered around him haphazardly.

"Caaaaaas," Dean wined, "this is so booooring." Sometimes, Castiel wasn't quite sure if Dean was an actual adult.

"What exactly about this is boring to you?" Dean groaned and shifted. "I thought you loved your 'job.'"

"Not the super boring parts, like research." He lifted his head from its resting spot, green eyes filled with budding hope. "Can I do something else?" Castiel opened his mouth to respond, but Dean hurried to speak over him. "I'll do anything. I'll make dinner, clean the weapons, hell, even give you a massage, just anything other than research." Castiel barked out a short laugh at that. Frowning, Dean ran through what he just said in his mind before blushing furiously.

"Anything?" Cas asked, and crap, his voice was low and sultry, sending shivers down Dean's spine. Mutely, Dean nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Castiel gave him an innocent little smile, one that made it quite obvious that his thoughts were anything but. Cas leaned across the table that sat between them, before glancing around the library. Dean found himself unconsciously leaning forward, drawn to Castiel. They were barely a foot apart now, despite the table sitting between them. Castiel smirked as he saw Dean blush even further. "I would like," Castiel paused, licking his lips, "for you to sing American Pie." What. Singing. Out of all the things he could've asked for, Castiel chose singing.

"Are you serious?" Castiel nodded shyly, biting his lip softly. All previous flirtatiousness had suddenly disappeared. Maybe Dean had been imagining it. Dean sighed. "Fine." He settled deeper into his seat, cursing his big mouth. Why couldn't he tough it out? Why'd he have to say anything? He glanced up at Castiel sullenly, and was slightly surprised to be met with intense blue eyes. Castiel raised his eyebrows. "What- Now?" Castiel nodded again, this time a bit more eagerly. "Dude, we're in a friggin' library. I don't think they would take kindly to my singing."

"Yes they would," Castiel said immediately, "I'm sure you have a marvelous singing voice." And, damn it, Dean was blushing even more. He was supposed to be over all of this blushing crap when he had hit eighteen. Castiel just reduced him to a nervous, prepubescent teenager. Figures.

Dean cleared his throat and began to sing. "A long, long time ago," At Castiel's purely ecstatic expression, he found himself melting inside. Crap, he was falling hard.

In short, the ancient librarian did not appreciate Dean's singing. Cas had leveled the grayed and wrinkled librarian with a –literally– heated glare. The man had perspired slightly, reprimanded them one last time before bustling away, fanning himself and frowning at the increase in temperature. Castiel turned huge blue eyes on Dean again, and Dean swore that he could see galaxies and imploding stars swirling in the blue depths.

"That librarian has no concept of beauty," Castiel said seriously, "Your voice is lovely, Dean." Dean groaned, and hid his once again red face in his hands. "Sadly," Cas continued, sounding quite sorrowful indeed, "you were unable to finish that song. We'll have to finish later." Dean's head jerked up at that, and he fixed Castiel with wide eyes. He was absolutely positive that his fear was showing in his eyes, and for once he didn't bother trying to hide it.

"That wasn't enough?" Dean asked, bewildered, "Did you purposefully choose the longest song I've shown you?" Castiel ducked his head, and Dean closed his eyes. Dean wasn't a praying man, but if he were, right about now he would be praying for patience and the strength to not strangle the man sitting in front of him. "Maximum embarrassment," Dean muttered under his breath. Lacking something else to do, Dean grabbed the nearest book and began to read. He heard Castiel snort out a breath. After all that, and he still didn't make it out of researching.

Castiel let out a soft yawn and checked the time. Eight in the evening. They should be heading back.

"Dean," he said gently, beginning to collect the books sitting on the table, "we should go." The only response he got was a soft snore. He looked up to find Dean with his head buried in a book, completely asleep. Castiel smiled softly, and started putting books away. Once everything was cleared up, he shrugged on his overcoat, and stood next to Dean. He was reluctant to wake the man, and he inwardly cursed him for looking so adorable, all the damn time. He was still hovering over Dean's shoulder awkwardly and staring when Dean awoke. Dean glanced around and jumped when he discovered that Castiel was standing directly behind him.

"Cas, man, don't do that."

Deciding to feign ignorance, Castiel asked, "Do what?"

"Y'know, the whole watching me sleep thing. We've talked about this."

"But I wasn't watching you sleep," Castiel protested, indignant. Dean snorted.

"Then what were you doing? 'Cause it sure looked like it to me."

"I was trying to decide the best way to wake you." Dean quirked an eyebrow at this, and it was quite clear that he didn't believe it, even if it was the truth. Castiel had not been staring or admiring the gentle slope of Dean's cheek bones and nose and lips. Nope. Not at all.

"Why didn't you, oh, I dunno, shake my shoulder and tell me to get my lazy butt outta my chair?" Castiel didn't really have a valid answer for that, and he ended up blurting out what was already on his mind.

"Because you looked so adorable!" Castiel's eyes widened and he quickly clamped his mouth shut. Dean went rigid, eyes doing their best saucer imitation.

"You… You think I'm cute?" Dean asked quietly.

"What- No! I think you are… are insufferable and infuriating and kind and wonderful and… and cute." The last word was whispered, as though if it were said any louder Hell might just break loose. Castiel's shoulders slumped, waiting to be showered with derogatory statements. It was quite clear that Dean valued his perception of manliness, and, despite the fact that Castiel himself had no problems with it, he was fairly certain that finding another man cute did not fit into Dean's definition of 'macho.'

"Do you really mean that?" Dean asked, voice hoarse. "Not the whole insufferable part, I already know that. But… the other stuff? 'Cause if you do," Castiel braced for the rejection. What would this perfect creature want to do with a flawed and rebellious phoenix like Castiel? A phoenix so strange that very few of his own kin enjoyed being with him? A socially stunted creature that had little value outside of battle and healing? What did he possibly have to offer Dean other than his limited set of skills? He dropped his head, so that when the confession of, "I don't like you" came, Dean wouldn't see the tears that would inevitably fall. Castiel heard Dean blow out a breath, long and slow. "That makes things so much easier." Castiel's head snapped up, watery blue eyes clashing with stunning green.

"What… what do you mean?"

"I mean that I've wanted to kiss you for weeks now." Castiel could feel his chin drop, knew that he was sitting there with his eyes bulging out of his head, knew that he probably looked like some sort of strange fish from the depths of the ocean. His mind was a whirlwind, but his only coherent thoughts were of how this was so not the appropriate time or place for random confessions of love. Or affection. Or whatever the hell this was.

Castiel swallowed, having closed his mouth at some point, and his eyes flicked down to Dean's lips. This was not the first time he had caught himself staring at those lips, probably wouldn't be the last, either. They were full and pink, and were most likely illegal in most countries. If they weren't, well, they should be. "Then why don't you?"

And in a flash, Dean was around the table and pulling Castiel in by the lapels of his overcoat. Dean smushed their lips together, and all of Castiel's thought process halted. Thinking back on it, his thoughts could be expressed with a dashed line and the occasional exclamation point.

Despite the initial speed and ferocity, the kiss was surprisingly sweet and chaste, and over far too soon. Dean pulled away with a soft whine and placed one of his hands on the back of Castiel's neck. Castiel pressed their foreheads together as Dean's other hand found a place to rest on one of Castiel's cheeks. Castiel's own hands had migrated from hanging limply and uselessly at his sides to Dean's hips. They both fought for breath, as though they had been running for hours, instead of kissing for all of five seconds. Well, that's what it felt like. Castiel didn't know much about kissing, but he was fairly certain they were overreacting for such a small kiss.

"That was… unexpected," Castiel whispered. Dean laughed softly, and they were so close that Castiel could feel Dean's breath ghosting over his own lips. They had forgotten that they were in a library, and that the librarian of said establishment was a curmudgeonly old man that hated anything that had to do with joy. They were reminded of this when the librarian cleared his throat. They jumped apart, Dean's hand flying up to rub at the back of his neck, while Castiel's cheeks reddened.

"If you are quite done with your… public displays of affection, the library is closing in ten minutes." With a glare that could rival one of Castiel's, the librarian stalked, or rather, creaked, off. Both Dean and Castiel turned back to each other, before they both burst into laughter. Neither of them knew what this was quite yet, but neither one of them was going to question the first good thing to happen in years. Or, in Castiel's case, millennia. No, they were both content to let things lie and for once, not go looking for trouble.

are all of dean's teeth gonna grow back: yes indeed. i've come to the conclusion that it takes about a month for each tooth to come in, so at this point, dean currently has six or seven of his fancy vamp teeth.
what will their first case be: this is supposed to be their first case, but yeah, i've gotten kind of distracted. probably just a ghost or something.
where is sam/when will we see him: sam is off the grid, like how he was while dean was in hell, and as for when we'll see him, i'm a little unsure? like, should they see him working this hunt, or see him in some unnamed dinner in some little town? i don't know and i'm so very torn. you guys should totes tell me what you would like and i'll decide from there.

you guys are all fabulous and deserve virtual hugs :3