In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn't Dare Elsewhere

Sleeping Over

No doubt Dean had heard what he said, but he didn't give any indication of doing so. "I would like that, Cas."

"You would?" Castiel wasn't sure Dean was going to say yes.

"Sure. Beats bein' home by myself at night. Your mom won't mind?"

"I have a feeling she would empathize with you not having your father around. I don't anticipate she'd find a problem with it, as long as we got to bed at a decent hour."

"No stayin' up all night braidin' each other's hair?"

Castiel smiled. "No, Dean."

"Cool."

It was still relatively early when the movie ended, so Castiel left Dean on the couch and went to his mother's bedroom to ask about Dean staying over. He knocked on the half-open door, where he could see his mother was propped up against pillows in her bed grading papers.

"Mama? May I interrupt you for a moment?"

"Certainly, Castiel, what is it?"

Castiel went into an explanation of how Dean's father was working overnight and if it would be okay for him to stay over. He even promised to strip the sheets and do the wash after Dean left.

"I don't see any problem with it. I don't want you two staying up until all hours, though."

"No, we won't."

"All right, then. Why don't you change the sheets on Michael's bed and get some fresh towels from the linen closet for our guest?"

"I will. I'll say good night before we turn in."

"I know you will," she smiled.

Castiel went back out to the couch and gave Dean the news.

"Awesome. I'll run home and get my toothbrush and stuff. I'll be right back."

In the meantime, Castiel neatened his already tidy room and put new sheets on Michael's bed. He pulled a towel and washcloth from the closet and set them on top of the sheets, where Dean could easily find them.

He sat down on his bed, his mind drifting to the previous afternoon and the way Dean used the exact colored washcloth to wash his face and neck, and the resulting kiss. It still felt like someone had answered a prayer or a wish he didn't realize he had made for the new closeness he shared with Dean. He was ecstatic and frightened at the same time. Leave it to him, he thought, to maintain his outsider reputation and fall in love with another guy instead of a girl. He sighed. Nothing seemed to be easy in his life for some reason. It was like he unconsciously chose the most difficult path every time. He was used to it, however, and only hoped Dean was ready to travel the bumpy road ahead with him.

Dean knocked on the door to his bedroom and popped his head in.

"What you doin'?"

"Making up the bed for you. Here are some fresh towels as well."

"Thanks. You wanna watch another movie before we hit the hay? I got Star Wars."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you going to recite every moment of dialogue between the characters?"

Dean grinned. "I solemnly swear not to be a geek."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"Have faith, young Skywalker."

Dean was surprisingly true to his word, with the exception of a "Here's my favorite part," and some "Ooh, watch this!" moments throughout. They were sharing a Kit Kat and watching the medal ceremony at the end of the film when Castiel's mother came up behind the couch and tapped Castiel on the head.

"It's almost one a.m., Castiel."

"We were just finishin' up," Dean said, gathering up the candy wrappers. "We're about to get ready for bed."

"I hope you sleep well, Dean. If you need anything, don't hesitate to wake me."

"Thanks, Mrs. Agnus."

"Goodnight, Dean. Goodnight, sweetheart," she said, kissing Castiel on the forehead.

"Goodnight, Mama."

She left the two of them on the couch and retreated to her bedroom, and closed the door.

"You can use the bathroom first," Castiel said.

"D'you think your mother can tell about us?"

"Tell what?"

"That we're more than friends."

Castiel turned to look down the hallway. "I don't think we gave off any clear indication as to the nature of our relationship. Frankly, I'm not quite sure how to even broach the subject with her when I'm ready to do so."

"I know what you mean. Gettin' suspended is one thing. Tellin' my dad I'd rather kiss a boy is somethin' else."

"I fear we're in for a difficult time ahead, Dean."

Dean took Castiel's hand. "Nothin' harder than stuff we've already faced, Cas."

"I don't know about that."

Dean leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, and then got up. "Let's not worry about it tonight. I'm gonna get washed up."

Castiel straightened the couch cushions and cleaned up the mess of candy wrappers, and shut off the TV. He went into his bedroom and turned down both his and Dean's sheets. By the time he was finished Dean came into the room, so Castiel gathered his sleep clothes and went into the bathroom.

When he got back, Dean was leaning back in Michael's bed, with Castiel's copy of Leaves of Grass propped against his chest. He was already down to his black boxers and a T-shirt.

"Y'know, from what I've been readin' in the copy you gave me, a lot of these poems are actually kinda dirty."

Castiel tossed his clothes in the closet hamper.

"Instead of the more common symbolic poetry of his time," Castiel explained, closing the closet, "Walt Whitman was one of the first poets to celebrate the body and the material world."

"I'll say: Or, if you will, thrusting me beneath your clothing, where I may feel the throbs of your heart, or rest upon your hip."

"Whitman lost his government job when the collection was first published because his superiors found it offensive."

Dean flipped a few pages in the book and frowned. "I don't think he's talkin' about women in here, Cas."

"No," Castiel smiled, "he's not. Those particular poems are referred to as the Calamus sequence, thought to be the most overt references to Whitman's homosexuality."

"Homosexuality, huh?"

"Yes."

"I guess you've read these before?"

"I have, but they've taken on a new resonance with me lately."

"Because of me?"

"Perhaps," Castiel admitted, smiling.

Dean grinned back at him. "Are you gonna pick one of these Calamus poems to recite in class for our English final?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It would cause problems," Castiel said.

"How?"

"Some are overtly sexual."

"But most are romantic, at least as far as I can figure out. Pick one of those."

"I don't think so."

"You worry too much, man. No one in that class will be able to understand what the hell you're talkin' about anyway."