"Cas, what the hell!" Dean yelled from his room. Castiel was in the kitchen of the bunker and making a pot of coffee. He furrowed his brow, wondering what he could've done wrong that made Dean mad.

He walked over to where Dean was, and grimaced when he noticed what was the matter. Shit, he thought.

"Y-Yes?" Cas asked, hesitating.

Dean pointed at his bed, his face as red as a tomato. This wasn't what Cas was expecting Dean's facial expression to look like. He was still trying to understand human emotions, and the one that Dean was expressing was one Cas didn't know just yet.

"Your bed?" Now that Cas knew Dean wasn't mad in the way he thought he was, he wasn't as nervous.

"Yes, Cas. My bed. What the fuck did you do to it? In fact, what the fuck did you do to my whole room?" Dean's voice was odd. It sounded like he was trying to act angry to cover up the emotion that Cas couldn't pinpoint.

"I...I do not understand why you are upset."

Dean threw his hands up in the air, "Fucking bullshit! You rearranged my whole room!"

Oh. Well, all Cas did was add a few things to make it his room too. Dean and Cas have been sharing a bed for a few weeks now. What that meant, Cas had no idea. But since he was spending his nights tucked under Dean's arm he wanted to have a few personal things. Like his own pillow, a bumble bee poster next to Dean's band posters, and he grabbed a purple comforter that was big and heavy because sometimes Dean's room got cold. He did it while Dean was taking a shower, but didn't think much of it. Why couldn't he add a few things to make it feel like it was his room too?

"I thought it was...our room?" Cas asked more then said. Why did Cas think this was a good idea? It took months to even hold Dean's hand and even longer to get him to let Cas into his bed. He never talks about it, like if he didn't talk about it then it wasn't too serious or anything, not even to Sam. Of course Dean would freak out to Cas 'settling' in his own room. This was his space. It wasn't Cas'.

Dean's face got even more flushed, even though Cas didn't know that was possible. He rubbed his hand down his face and mumbled a few curses. "What exactly...What exactly do you think is between us?"

That was the golden question, wasn't it? "I know what I want to be between us, but I decided to not vocalize my opinion. I told you that you decide what goes on, and I am staying true to that statement."

"Then what the hell is with all this room stuff? What if Sam comes in and makes assumptions? What if he figures out that I'm..." Dean didn't finish his sentence. Cas was starting to understand why Dean was embarrassed.

"Figure out what, Dean?"

Dean didn't answer that. He refused to look at Cas, and instead started at the floor like it was the most fascinating thing.

"Dean."

"Friends don't share beds, okay? They don't! So what the hell are you doing? We're FRIENDS!" Dean, being overwhelmed, started to ramble, "Friends don't hold hands, or cuddle at night, or know that they like way too much creamer in their coffee so they don't have to add sugar because we always run out of sugar, or know how to talk to each other without even talking, or, or, or..."

Now Dean's face was in a complete state of horror, like he couldn't believe what he just said came out of his own mouth. He slowly looked up at Cas, obviously afraid of his reaction.

What Dean said was still processing in Cas' head. Dean was right. Friends don't do any of that stuff. So, if they did all those things, what were they?

Cas didn't feel his lips curl into a happy smile. Neither did Cas notice that Dean's face went from embarrassed, to surprised, to confusion. "Dean. We do not have to label this thing between us, but I do want us to acknowledge there is a thing between us. That is all I want." He walked closer to Dean so they were only feet apart. "What is it that you want, Dean?"

It took awhile for Dean to think and respond, because he knew that Cas was asking a serious question he couldn't ignore this time, but Cas didn't mind. Because the waiting to hear what Dean said was worth it when he said, "You."

Their lips connected and it wasn't like what Cas would expect. All those movies and books that Dean showed him where the hero gets the girl in the end, the kissing seemed to be magical and epic. This kiss wasn't any of that. It was so much better.

Passionate. Slow but enough emotion to say everything that they both were feeling. Happiness and hope.

Love.

They broke apart and Cas knew he couldn't stop saying the words if his life depended on it, "I love you, Dean Winchester."

Dean looked content with the information, "I need you, Cas. Fuck, I need you." In 'Winchester language' that was equivalent to saying that he loved him. Cas was more than happy with that response.

"I knew it!" Sam's voice came from the door way and made Cas and Dean whip their heads in that direction.

They were both still holding each other (wait when did that happen?) and Sam was leaning against the door.

"Finally. I mean you guys have no idea how hard it is to not notice you guys obviously having eye sex and all that jazz." That is all Sam said as he left to go to the kitchen.

Dean was back to being a blushing mess, but Cas only smiled humorously. He looked back to Dean and his smile grew.

"Great..." Dean mumbled.

But then Cas thought to one thing that Sam said that didn't make sense to him. "Dean, what is eye sex?"

This got Dean to laugh, and even though he didn't answer his question, Cas felt happy.