“Now, remember, you do not know me.” Castiel nods slowly, though he truly does not understand. “Now, just sit at the bar, order a drink, and relax. You have the night to yourself and you’re looking for some company, okay?”

“Okay”, Cas answers shyly.

“Alright,” Dean claps his hands and wanders off. Cas sits himself at the bar, waiting impatiently, running through the rules in his head again. When the bartender approaches him, he nearly jumps out of his seat.

Nervously, he sucks on his mead, watching others watching him. Finally a familiar voice is in his ear. “Did it hurt?”

Cas spins around. “Did what hurt, Dean?” Dean glares at him, the words 'what did just tell you?' flooding his head. Cas clears his throat and repeats, shyly, but syrupy, “Did what hurt?”

Dean smiles coyly. “When you fell from heaven.” A small laugh rises up Cas’ throat. He smiles at Dean’s face.

Dean offers him a hand. “I’m Alex,” he says. Castiel takes his hand, grateful for at least some familiar and uncomplicated contact.

“Brian,” he replies. A look of shock crosses Dean’s face. The first man he slept with.

But he recovers quickly. “Can I buy you a drink, Brian?” Cas remembers this rule.

“How about you and I skip the drinks, hmm?” Dean’s eyes widen and for a moment his confident façade falls, the specks of lust and wildness peeping through. “What ever you say, Cas.”