Dean stole another glance at the angel standing next to him.

Though he was fighting hard against it, Dean was feeling the urge to just tell him – tell him about what he'd been experiencing for the past few weeks. To try to explain how, whenever Cas entered the room, Dean would find himself unable to look away from him; wanting to keep staring until his eyes became weak. He wanted to tell him about that weird, bubbly sensation that exploded in his gut whenever Cas's name was mentioned out of nowhere in random conversation. In short, Dean was experiencing something he would never admit to...

He was falling in love.

But not in the sappy, over-the-top, goo-goo eyes, chick-flick kind of way. All that was just movie dramatization and acting. No, this shit was real. He could feel it in the depths of his soul; rapidly growing and spreading like wild fire. The feeling was slowly taking him over, with every heavenly visit from Cas. And now, the emotion was so enormous, that it was demanding his undivided attention; making him want to spill his guts before he burst at the seams.

But, he stopped himself. Just like always. Cas was a freakin' angel; not only a warrior of heaven who drew a blank on human emotion, but a guy, too. What if he didn't understand what Dean was trying to say? Or worse,...what if he didn't care? Just for that very reason, Dean tried his best to keep the bottle corked...even though he was dying to just let it out.

"Is that all the assistance you require tonight, Dean?" Cas asked, meeting his stare.

Dean blinked, totally lost in the sea of Cas's blue eyes for a moment, before clearing his throat and looking away. He struggled to come up with a good reply.

"Uh, y – yeah. I guess," he forced out, monitoring his words.

Cas gave a slight nod. Dean knew it was coming; the moment when Cas was going to disappear from the room – disappear from his life – again. Everything in Dean's body was demanding that he say something to make Cas stay, if only just for a few minutes.

But the blue eyes were suddenly gone. Dean blinked, instantly searching around the empty room. He felt as if a strong grip was released from his insides, leaving him to dangle in loneliness. A sigh escaped Dean's lips as he brought himself over to fall onto one of the beds. He shoved the pillow forcefully under his head, mad at himself. Why did feeling this way have to be so damn difficult?

Dean glanced at his cell phone on the bedside table. The urge to tell someone was still pressing at the front of his mind. He craved so desperately to talk to someone. Should he call Sam? No way. Dean wasn't ready for that kind of rejection. Could he tell Bobby? Yeah right. The dude already thought Dean was enough of a basket case. The phone just stared back at him teasingly.

Dean closed his eyes and forced his breathing to slow. His chest was physically aching, missing Cas already. Even though he was in pain, Dean felt himself slowly drifting off...still picturing the angel in the trench coat...

Dean raised his head at the sound of soft sipping. He looked around, seeing pale yellow wall paper and a mahogany table under his arms. He realized he was sitting in a nice kitchen. A very familiar kitchen. Dean looked across the table at the sounds of more sipping,... and his jaw slowly fell.

His mother was sitting comfortably at the same table. She was wrapped in a cozy pink robe; pale blonde hair cascading off her shoulders while she held a steaming mug to her lips. Her eyes, which looked blue in the light shining from the window, were watching him with a hint of playfulness.

"You keep falling asleep at the table, and you're gonna end up with sore neck, sweetheart," Dean's mother smiled.

Dean sat up completely, unable to look away from his mother. It had been so long since he'd seen her, he'd almost forgotten just how beautiful she was. He gulped, feeling unsure of what to say. She smirked, leaning forward to place her mug on the table. Her eyes seemed full of motherly affection and honesty.

"What's on your mind?" she asked, her soft voice causing a chill to run up Dean's spine.

Dean gulped. Was she able to see his distress that clearly? The man sighed, resting his elbow on the table to lean his head against his hand. This was exactly what he'd been wanting. Just to talk to someone. Looking back up into his mother's understanding eyes, it finally started to come out.

"Cas," he admitted, "It's Cas."

"Cas?" she smiled, raising her mug again, "The angel that gave you that?"

Dean followed his mother's pointing finger to his arm, where the bottom portion of Cas's hand print was showing from under his sleeve. Dean smiled at the scar before returning to his mother's warm stare.

"Yeah," he said, watching her take another sip, "I've been...feeling different about him."

"Really?" she said, raising a delicate eyebrow, "Well, go on. Tell me about it."

Dean smiled a little, at his mother's eagerness to hear him talk. He glanced down at the table, feeling a flutter in his stomach as he thought about Cas.

"I think,...I think I like him more and more every time I see him," Dean said, his grin spreading, "I'm not sure what it is about him, Mom, but the guy is just so addicting. You know that face he makes, when he doesn't get the joke?"

His mother nodded, her smile growing.

"I love that face. He's just so open and honest, you know? He's the purest thing that's ever walked into my life. Hell, I like him a lot, Mom, I..." Dean paused to gulp, feeling a little light headed, "I think I love the poor bastard."

His mother gave a soft giggle, as she reached out to touch his hand. Dean looked down at her gentle, elegant fingers on him. He could really feel her touch...

"Then, why haven't you told him?" she asked.

Dean met her lovely blue eyes again, realizing that they were almost the same shade as Cas's; Just a little brighter.

"He probably doesn't feel the same way," Dean stated, his smile fading away.

"Oh, honey," his mother said, shaking her head a little, "you always were quick to assume things. I'm sure he cares about you just the same."

"Yeah right," Dean scoffed, dropping his head to stare at the table.

Disappointment was already heavy in his chest. He was already feeling defeat from the task he hadn't even attempted; already trying to accept Cas's rejection.

"Look at me, Dean."

Dean instantly raised his head to meet his mother's eyes again. Her expression was full of wisdom and comfort. Her blue eyes searched his face, as her hand tighten on his own.

"Sometimes you just gotta take a chance," she spoke softly, "you just have to jump without seeing where you're gonna land. Because if you don't, you'll be stuck on the ledge forever."

Dean swallowed harshly, feeling warmth grow in his chest. Truer words had never been spoken in such a loving tone. Hope and courage were manifesting in him, as he stared at his beautiful mom.

"You're right," he nodded, feeling his smile ease back over his lips, "I've gotta tell him."

A brighter smile graced his mother's face, as she patted his hand.

"That's my brave, little boy," she almost whispered.

"I'm a grown man," Dean sighed, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Not to me," she grinned, leaning back to reclaim her mug, "you'll always be my baby, Dean."

Dean smirked, crossing his arms on the table again. He took the time to watch his mother sip another drink. He felt grateful that he was given the chance to finally talk to someone; especially to her.

"Thanks, mom," he said, speaking from his heart.

"Anytime, sweetheart," she smiled.

"Dean,"

The warm kitchen was suddenly gone. Dean blinked his eyes open, seeing a darkened motel room staring back at him. As the dirty furniture and dull wall paper came into focus, Dean slowly tried to regain his barrings. Had he been dreaming? Didn't he just get through speaking to his mother?

"Dean,"

Dean spun around at the sound of Cas's voice. The angel was standing by the bed, looking familiar as ever. Dean's heart picked up speed as his eyes roamed over Cas in the dark. All the feelings he had earlier were quickly returning. The regular, blank expression was still resting on Cas's face. Dean finally met his eyes, taking in the stunning shade of blue he favored.

Cas held something out. Dean strained, in the dark, to see what it was.

"My necklace?" Dean guessed out loud.

"It seems the endeavor to find my father is to great," Cas said, sounding disappointed, "I... I thought I would return your possession. I know how much it means to you."

Dean gulped, remembering his own great endeavor; the one which his mother had given him advice on. The man rose from the bed, quickly wiping the sleep from his eyes. He stepped close to Cas, dismissing the necklace in his hand. He had to do it, now. He had to jump...

"Cas," Dean began, hearing his own breathing picking up as he stared into the angel's eyes, "I need to tell you something."

"Tell me what?" Cas asked, studying him.

"That...that I like you, okay?" Dean blurted, indeed feeling as if he were jumping off a ledge, "I like you a lot. I like your stupid face, and you getting all up in my personal space, and all those dumb little 'Hello, Dean's... I like that shit. In fact, I love that shit, dammit. Don't ever stop doing it."

Cas blinked, tilting his head a little. Dean kept going, still feeling like he was falling.

"When you're gone, I feel homesick," he said, speaking without direction, "And when you're here with me, I feel like a completed puzzle, with all the right pieces in place. This is what is happening to me, Cas, I'm falling...I'm falling in love with you."

Dean paused to breathe, watching to see if some kind of reaction would come across the angel's features. The blue eyes seemed a little lost at first, searching Dean's face, but soon something else appeared. Something that looked like curious interest.

"How do you fall into something that is intangible?" he asked, trying to understand.

Dean reached out and carefully took Cas's hand. The angel stared down at their joined fingers, a light seeming to flicker in his blue eyes. Dean took this as a good sign. Maybe his mom was right; maybe Cas did feel the same way.

"It's just like falling for real," Dean explained, feeling himself lean closer, "your stomach tenses up and your feet feel like they aren't touching the ground, even though you're standing completely still. And it's all because of one person. Because you care for them so much, they make you feel like you're falling," he breathed, his lips almost touching Cas's, "...like you're flying."

Dean felt Cas exhale against his mouth. The blue eyes blinked, appearing full of understanding.

"You make me feel that way, Dean," he seemed to admit in a whisper, "you remind me of flying."

Dean gulped, feeling his extremities tingle at Cas's words. He had been so ready to accept rejection, that he never thought about what it would be like if Cas felt the same way. Dean was almost in disbelief; feeling like he was still in a dream. It was surprising to find that Cas loved him, too.

Dean's body took over; his lips closing the gap between their mouths. His eyes fell shut as he kissed Cas, reaching up to hold the back of his soft head. Cas seemed just as willing, pressing firmly back against him. All the heavy emotions in Dean seemed to feel relieved. This was all he needed to feel complete again; Cas's returned love.

Dean gently pulled away, feeling like he was floating rather than standing. He watched Cas open his eyes and stare back at him. There was an expression on the angel's face that Dean hadn't seen before. He looked a little dazed as a smile flickered on his lips.

"What was that?" he asked.

"A kiss," Dean answered, finding it odd that Cas didn't know.

The angel finally smiled, a blush raising on his cheeks in the dark. Dean smirked, enjoying the sight.

"It was nice," Cas commented.

Dean took a deep breath, reaching up to slide both hands around the angel and pull him into a hug. He held Cas close against him, feeling Cas's hands gingerly circle him back. As they stood in their momentary embrace, Dean closed his eyes. His mother returned to his mind. He pictured her sitting at the kitchen table again, with a hidden smile. Dean was glad they had their talk, even if it was in a dream. She could still teach him lessons and give him advice. She was still his mother, and would be forever.

"May we kiss again, Dean?" Cas asked quietly.

Dean gave a small chuckle as he pulled back to look at Cas's face properly. He smiled, staring into the angel's perfect blue eyes... almost the same shade as his mother's...

"As many times as you want," Dean answered.

(Author's Note: Happy belated Mother's Day to all the mommies out there, including mine. You are all awesome! :) May your sons and daughters love you as much as Dean loves Mary. :) Thank you all for reading and reviewing! I hope this little ball of fluff brightened your day.)