Authors' note: This chapter has a little bit of a different format than the others, But the storyline is all the same. This chapter and on has cusswords so if you are not comfortable with the cussing DON'T READ THE REST OF THE STORY. Also this chapter is very long so be prepared.

Also grab some popcorn and enjoy

"I'm sitting at a booth with you, and this is the first time that has ever happened," he began, noting the way Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Ever."

Dean huffed and squinted at him.

"Don't tell me this is your first date ever."

Castiel stared at Dean despite the flush rising up his collar. Dean's eyes widened.

"You're kidding. Face like yours?"

Castiel remained silent and Dean covered his mouth with his hand, chuckling and looking at the counter for a few seconds.

"Well, damn," he said into his palm, looking back at Castiel, his smile peeking out between his fingers. "Guess that makes me kind of special, huh."

Castiel rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Just because it's my first 'date' doesn't mean I'm an idiot. I could have had my first date with anybody," he growled and Dean leaned forward, elbows on the table, slowly entering Castiel's orbit.

"Oh, I'm sure you were pick of the litter with all the girls. You've got that blue blood look. Too bad you weren't interested..."

Castiel opened his mouth, but just as he was about to retort, a milkshake and a plate of fries were set down on the table.

"Behave yourself. And sit up!" Ellen said, slapping Dean lightly on the shoulder before she smiled at Castiel. "Don't worry, hon, he's all bark no bite."

For a moment Castiel was stunned at having been interrupted, but soon relief washed over him because he really was not in the mood for arguing at the moment. Especially with Dean Winchester, who was already starting to get under his skin. He quietly thanked Ellen, pulling his milkshake closer and staring down at the tabletop, because what if she had heard what they were talking about? She seemed down to earth enough, so maybe she wouldn't care?

But he'd been wrong about that sort of thing before.

"I mean it, Dean," Ellen warned, placing her hands on her hips and staring down at Dean as he pulled his milkshake toward him, staring up at Ellen with a sort of sheepish grin. "If I see you causing any trouble, I'm not letting you in here anymore."

"Okay, okay," Dean grumbled, pushing his straw around in his milkshake, taking a sip from it. "I'll behave myself."

"You better." She turned to Castiel and smiled at him, and he smiled nervously back before she turned around and walked through the doors back into the kitchen.

Castiel turned his attention back to Dean, only to find that Dean was staring directly at him, his eyes falling to rest on his lips, which were casually poised over his straw. Castiel jerked back, and Dean laughed.

"Oh, don't mind me, just enjoy your milkshake."

Dean pulled a fry from the plate and pushed it between his lips, chewing it slowly, his eyes never leaving Castiel. And Castiel awkwardly put his lips around his straw, looking anywhere but Dean. The sight had to have been hilarious, but really, he didn't give a damn.

"So," Dean started, pushing another fry into his mouth. "Have you lived in California your whole life, or did you just move here for school?"

"Why are you talking with food in your mouth?"

"What?"

"It's disgusting."

Castiel looked up at him, pushing his glasses up, and Dean swallowed, staring down at

him.

"Happy? And are you going to answer my question?"

"Yes... And I've lived here my entire life." He moved the straw around in his glass, pushing the whipped cream further down into the milkshake, mixing it up. "I'm planning on leaving when I graduate, though."

"Oh, where to?"

"The east coast, maybe. I don't know. New York's always seemed interesting."

"New York? Pretty expensive up there, and it snows a lot, I heard."

"It snows here, too."

And Dean blushed, actually blushed, and Cas couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah– Well, whatever."

Castiel picked up a fry and chewed at it, humming softly. "So, what are you planning on doing?"

Dean sipped at his milkshake, pushing it away afterward.

"Nothing, really. Well, hoping to go pro with the whole racing thing. I am pretty good at it, after all."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I'm really wanting to buy a better place when I save up enough money. That is, after I send my brother to school. He's been going on and on about wanting to become a lawyer."

Castiel found himself perceiving Dean with a soft sense of surprise. He didn't think that

Dean Winchester was that kind of person – Hester had mentioned him taking care of his brother, but sending said brother to law school?

That was a commitment.

"What's your brother like?" Cas continued, still twirling the fry in his fingers, watching Dean, before taking another bite.

"Sammy?" Dean said, and his eyes lit from the inside out at the name. "He's a good kid. Real good kid. Smart." He trailed off, taking a fry and dipping it into his milkshake, considering the combination before eating it in one go. "...Well, you know, smarter than me, but that ain't so hard."

He shook his sleeve out and took his fries two at a time from that point on, always swiping a bit of milkshake onto them. Cas snorted at the action and let himself have another sip of his own drink.

"What about you?" Dean continued between helpings. "You got family?"

Cas pecked at his plate nervously before sighing at the question; he flicked a grain of salt off of the table while he went about forming a decent answer to the query. "Not exactly," he began, reaching to pull a napkin out of the dispenser and wipe his hands with it. He heard the sound of Dean eating, and the buzz of the light overhead and the metallic clank of someone putting quarters into the jukebox at the back of the restaurant.

The melancholysound of a man's voice on the radio, speaking in the night time slowness about the war slowly faded out. The needle scratched on the record and some old Julie London song came on, filling the diner with a sweeping, sad, sound. "I mean, I do," Cas spoke, trying to explain but failing at it, "but we don't talk. "Cause you like men?" Dean said seriously, the tone of his voice countered by him biting off the cherry on his milkshake. Cas, without thinking, put his own on a napkin and slid it across to him, watching as he bit that too, laying the stems side by side. "Yes." His voice was quieter than it had been. He stared at the stems and, subsequently, Dean's fingers where they rested nearby, noticing the calluses he had and the slightly more tanned areas of skin caused by his gloves. Dean lit another cigarette and drew on it, the smoke floating across the table when Cas waved it away with the back of his hand. Dean didn't respond, and Cas didn't continue, and Cas was glad for the cleansing silence. "You done?" Dean mumbled around his smoke, gesturing at Cas' half–finished food. Castiel smiled, shaking off the dull sense of hurt from thoughts of his family, focusing instead on Dean. His heart thudded a little with that spark of attraction and his mouth felt too dry and there was that strange left over taste of sugar on his teeth. "Are you bored with me?" he teased, unable to keep the slight tremble from his voice, watching Dean pull out his wallet and leave a few bills tucked under a plate.

Dean smirked, but remained silent, standing up, Cas followed the movement, his knee knocking awkwardly on the edge of the table. Ellen wasn't at the counter – some other waitress was, and Dean didn't bother saying goodbye to her and made his way out of the diner instead, the bell jangling. He was being so quiet, and it made Castiel uneasy – had he done something wrong?

He probably shouldn't have mentioned his family like that. Dean's own dad was some kind of deadbeat, right? Maybe he should have been more sensitive. Lied or something. Cas felt the chilly, damp air hit him and his stomach flipped.

That had been his first date and judging by his host's silence it had gone just swimmingly.

Cas stopped walking when Dean didn't immediately go to his motorcycle. Maybe the date wasn't over. He froze. The implication rose up around him like the smoke pillowing from Dean's cigarette. His shoes crunched on the concrete as he toed at it and he swallowed thickly. Dean pushed one of his hands into his pockets, gazing at him, his face illuminated by the diner's neon sign.

"You sure you don't want a smoke? I have plenty." Dean broke the quiet and Cas shook his head.

"No."

Dean grinned at him, the end of his cigarette glowing dull red. "If you really want to know why I brought you here it's because I wanted to see what you'd do."

Cas blushed, hoping the shadow of the diner covered it.

"What was I going to do?" Cas responded. "It's not like you did anything unsavory. You took me to a diner."

Dean tilted his head back, laughing, and he dropped his smoke, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot. "Unsavory." His eyebrows rose. "Did you think I was going to be unsavory?" Cas didn't say anything immediately, blush darkening, and Dean laughed again, harder this time.

Cas was feeling panicky and cornered by the sound of it and his chest was tight from the embarrassment, his face hot.

"You thought I was going to take you home with me or something, didn't you – oh, I can see it, I bet you did. Oh, I'm sorry baby. Not tonight," he cackled, utterly amused, it seemed, by Cas' ignorance.

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