Dean was stomping his way to the library ( surprise! ) his mind set on setting things with Castiel. If that guy wasn't even gonna give him a chance, then Dean wanted to know why! What was so wrong and repulsive about Dean that Castiel went out of his way to be rude to him.

He swung open the doors, thumping loudly against the walls, making the library patrons all snap their heads towards him.

His frown was set, not even sparing a glance to the wide-eyed students, eyes concentrated at the desk at the end of the room.

And there Castiel was sat again, head slung down ( again! ) but under those glasses his eyes were concentrated on him. He looked very much like Meryl Strip in the Devil Wears Prada, but Dean would never admit to watching that movie, or knowing who Meryl Strip is, or admiring her, or secretly having watched all her work.

No, not Dean.

"May I help you?" –Castiel asked in that dead voice of his, eyes unaffected by Dean's entrance.

"Why, yes, kind sir, it would be quite dandy if you could explain to me why the bloody hell are you treating me like a wanker!"- Dean spoke with a mock British accent. He was probably trying to make a statement with that outburst. But no, it just came out like a crazy meltdown. He was just gonna have to play it off.

"Was that supposed to be a British accent?" –Castiel asked with a raised eyebrow and God dammit he fucking did look like Meryl Strip!

"Just because you're hot doesn't give you the right to treat people like shit!"- Dean shouted over Castiel's calm words.

"You think I'm hot?" –Castiel's eyebrow wouldn't drop, only raising with amusement.

"You're missing the fucking point! Why do you hate me? Why?" –Dean's voice grew even louder, agitated with this man.

"First of, you don't swear in my library. Next, you don't yell at me, regardless if I'm in the library or not. Third, you don't know who you're talking to. Get out. You're making a scene and you're embarrassing yourself." – Castiel's gaze instantly dropped from amused to cold, his tone going a terrifying octave lower.

"First of, you only had to tell me. Second, I wouldn't do anything to upset you-

"You already did-"

'THIRD! Third, I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers! Why wont you go on a date with me? WHY!" – Dean stressed the last word, doing the Italian three fingers with his hands, eyes wildly blown with frustration.

"Well, maybe, because you frustrate me, and you're hot, and guys like you usually end up braking my fucking heart, because I give myself easily, and I let myself trust people I shouldn't, and maybe, just, maybe, I'm fucking scared!" –'Castiel cursed in his own library breaking his own rule' Was the first thought that ran through his mind as Castiel gave his speech.

"Well, maybe, you frustrate me too, but a kind of nice frustration, that makes you keep a person in your thoughts, and maybe, I'm fucking scared too, because you too are hot, and maybe, I find you really interesting and maybe I haven't felt like this in a long time and fucking maybe I think I would treat you right and I fucking WANT to get a date with you!" –Dean shouted in equal frustration.

"Well maybe you will!"



"Maybe I'll see you at seven at Jefferson's café!"

"Maybe you will!"



And with those last words Dean stomped out of the library, flopped himself in his car seat, slammed the door shut, and halfway home the realization that he had a date with Castiel hit him. Or atleast, maybe he did.


Sam was surprised to see that Lucifer had taken him to a bar. Not classy, but it definitely worked for him.

What didn't work for him, was how Lucifer, just, stared at him, while he awkwardly sipped from his beer. He was trying to look anywhere but Lucifer, but the staring made him feel nervous. Because the guy simply didn't blink. And the way he stared wasn't that 'I'm looking for something' stare or that 'I wanna see into your soul stare' it was a 'I'm happy to be staring at you' stare that didn't imply anything behind it.

"So, uh, you wanna play some cards?" –Sam decided that if he were to go through this date he was gonna have to be the one putting the effort.

"I don't know how." –Lucifer stated firmly with a slight brow furrow, though his look of satiation didn't falter.

"Like, seriously?" –Sam asked with disbelief apparent in his voice.

Lucifer nodded with a tiny smile.

Wow, and here was Sam hoping for a game of poker with the Devil. Maybe put his soul on the table.

Sam chuckled absently and asked for a stack of cards from the bartender.


An hour later and Sam was laughing his ass off. Lucifer couldn't understand a single game they played, and dammit if it wasn't funny as hell.

He even convinced him to put on a bowler hat the bartender had laying around, while he smoked a big cigar. Lucifer seemed eager to do anything Sam wanted him to and even though that should be a scary thought it was too amusing to concentrate on the scary part.

Sam may have been laughing on Lucifer's regard all night, but Lucifer seemed to be taking it all well. Like, he would do anything to make Sam laugh, and that sort of felt you know... Warm, or some girly shit Dean would call him a bitch for.

"Oh." –Lucifer suddenly stopped dealing cards and looked over Sam with shock in his eyes.

"What?" –Sam asked puzzled.

"That's my song!" –And Lucifer was out of his seat in a second.

Sure enough 'Dancing with myself' by Billy Idol was blasting through the bar.

"Dance with me." –Lucifer said with a warm smile, his hand extended towards Sam.

"No way, dude." –Sam wasn't a dancer. Never was. Dancing made him feel awkward and he stood out with his great form like a giraffe amongst rabbits in a zoo.

"Come. Please." –Were Lucifer's last words before he made his way to the small group of dancing individuals.

And wow, talk about smooth.

Lucifer, in that leather jacket, those tight pants, and stark blond hair, and oh my God those fucking movements had Billy Idol on spot.

Sure enough, the other people ( some leering men ) noticed too, joining with him, laughing and doing a weak impersonation of his dancing.

Lucifer seemed full of energy as he swung his body side to side, legs shuffling beneath him, knees bending towards his arms.

And finally he turned towards Sam, a wide grin plastered on his face, and with an opened hand beckoned him towards the dance floor.

Mesmerized by what he saw with a thought of 'Fuck it', he stood up and towards Lucifer who's grin stretched into a full on smile as Sam joined him.

"I've gotta tell ya, you might suck at cards, but you own this." –Sam said with a smile as he leaned towards Lucifer, as the music grew louder, the bartender noticing that more people stood up to dance.

"We all have our stronger side." –Lucifer smiled as he kept shuffling beneath Sam.

"Yeah, like, I suck at dancing. I don't know what I'm doing here." –Sam said with an awkward chuckle glancing down as this off beat shifting feet.

"Here." –Lucifer said as he put both of his hands around Sam's waist, pulling him a tad closer, flush against his own body. Sam couldn't help but think how they fit together.

Lucifer's fuller form, against his own, big rough hand at the dip of his back guiding him gently, and the way he was just a breath shorter than him, giving just the right angle to kiss...

So he did.

Lost in the moment and his own emotions he slipped his own lips over Lucifer's who gave the leading off to Sam, giving him space to decide how to do this.

It was funny how Lucifer was always the one pushing, and now that he had Sam where he wanted, he almost slipped out, giving Sam room to take whatever he wanted.

And Sam wanted. He slid his hands up Lucifer's arms, squeezing lightly, to his shoulders, up his neck and carded them into his soft blond hair.

To this Lucifer slid his own hands lower and squeezed his ass lightly, making Sam jump a little, a silent smirk playing at his lips.

But the moment was soon ruined by a loud catcall and the two broke off abruptly. Sam blushed wildly, running his hand through his hair as he dropped his gaze at his feet. Lucifer though didn't feel ashamed, instead he shook his head wildly searching out the asshole that had the balls to interrupt them.

"Let's just... go." –Sam whispered to Lucifer, whose hawk eyed stare immediately softened upon hearing Sam.

"Where to?"

"My place."

Yay, the other chapter is finally up, so I hope you all liked it.

And let me just thank to all of the people who reviewed you all mean so much to me, every word means a lot. And as you can see I keep your suggestions in mind as I write so keep em coming and hopefully I don't disappoint.

Also if you're interested in more Samifer I have another story which is tagged as a Dean/Castiel one but Samifer is also in there, so if you're Samifer starved go there. I also have another ficlet, but it's just that, a ficlet. :)

PS: If you have a weird/cracky/fluffy samifer request I'm in. :)

And please, if you'd care to leave a review, it gives great motivation. :)