Castiel won't even look at him. How can eyes that once gazed at him so longingly now turn away in disgust?

There was always the possibility that Castiel would regret it, but that thought never struck him in the moment. How could have thought like that, when Castiel's smile, his arms wrapping around his neck and drawing him in, and his sweet, eager words said everything but?

In fact, nothing had ever felt more natural. There was no awkwardness, no fumbling, just him and Castiel, breathless but smiling as they rocked throughout the night. It's not a backwards reflection through rose-tinted glasses, but the reality of it. It wasn't just sex; it was honest to goodness love. That night was his dreams made flesh.

Friendships of this magnitude aren't risked and irreparably changed for just sex, there has to be intense feeling behind it. Castiel didn't have to look at him like that if it was just sex. He didn't have to say he loved him if it was just sex.

Absentmindedly, Lysander twirls the ends of his hair around his finger, just as Castiel had done that night as he fell into a slumber in his embrace.

Yet when he awoke he was alone, no body to hold and no mop of red hair on the pillow beside him. There was no note either, no text explaining where he'd gone.

Ignored and unanswered, the phone calls ring out and his texts get no response. For days there's nothing except the hole Castiel's left in his wake.

Lysander considers showing up unannounced at Castiel's place but the thought of having the door shut in his face proves to be a barrier he can't overcome. He wallows instead of making it worse.

When he finally does see Castiel again, its pure coincidence. They just so happen to shop at the same corner shop and they were bound to run into each other at some point.

"Castiel," Lysander says, almost without thinking. It's instinctual to reach out and say hi, he doesn't stop to think about what to say or to acknowledge that things have changed between them.

"Hey," Castiel replies. He examines the can of soup in his hand, probably just for an excuse to look away.

"So what have you been up to lately?" Lysander asks. The phrasing is the most innocuous manner he can think to ask what's been going on.

"Just songwriting and practice, not much."

Lysander pauses, that wasn't much of an answer. He doesn't want to seem desperate and asking Castiel why hasn't he heard from him may come across that way, but he's waited long enough and he can't help himself.

"Why haven't I heard from you," Lysander stops to consider his phrasing, "since that night."

Castiel looks away and Lysander could swear there was a grimace. What's that emotion? Shame or regret? Is it embarrassment or worse, disgust?

Castiel's eyes narrow and look back at Lysander. "Forget it ever happened."

Lysander stares back blankly. What are you supposed to say to that? Quickly, he comes to his senses before he loses his chance. "You don't mean that."

"Lys, drop it," Castiel speaks through gritted teeth to measure his volume and to avoid a scene. "I want for us to stay friends so don't fuck this up more than it already is."

Lysander nods, too dumbstruck for any real words. Castiel has made it clear; he regrets what happened between them. It's over, not that it ever really began. He knows in his heart that Castiel meant everything between them that night, but for whatever reason, he wants to move past it.

In the end, it doesn't matter if Castiel does or doesn't love him in return because the outcome is the same, he'll never tell. Real feelings will be buried deep, walls will be built, and they'll both go on ignoring the passion gnawing inside them.

And Lysander will go along with the charade because keeping Castiel in his life is more important than being loved in return.