Rules

The Auror team was going through their biweekly training routine. Their expansive arena had bright targets, foam barriers, floating hoops, and other interactive equipment that the men and women worked through in rapid succession. Some stations focused on precision wand work where the Aurors had to shoot down one of the targets with a silent and well-placed curse. Another station was a small obstacle course that centered on balance and form. A few Aurors were sprinting from one end of the arena to the other.

Harry finished his third repetition of push-ups with some difficulty. Training used to go a lot better before his injuries. Now his wrists hurt after upper body training, his back seemed to be on the verge of hyperextension, and his legs tired faster than before after a few suicide sprints. He wiped the sweat off his neck with his shoulder and picked his bottle of water up off the ground.

A strange prickling at the back of his neck unsettled him.

He looked over his shoulder at the spectator's booth.

It was empty.

Castiel turned away with a doleful sigh and leaned against the glass, invisible to everyone. Apparently laying off meant not meeting with Harry at all. It was torture. It had only been six days, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. Is 'laying off' supposed to help him win Harry over? He didn't understand the logic behind it.

He had tried speaking with Harry. He had tried so many times. But those conversations never reached anywhere. Harry deliberately sent it spiraling into meaningless circles with his glib remarks and callous attitude until there was nothing to talk about. Not speaking with him was even worse.

It was past twelve when the team hit the showers, famished and ready to eat anything the cafeteria was serving that day. Everyone was sore, head-to-toe. The trainers never took 'no' for an answer. The Aurors were always pushed to their limits during these workouts. Harry was one of the last to leave the locker room because he had to tape his sore wrists to ensure he didn't strain them too much over the course of the day. He had to take care of his hands. Injury to his wand arm would be unfortunate. He slung his duffle bag across his shoulder and was on his way out when…

He was tugged back gently, away from the door.

He blinked in astonishment at Castiel standing before him.

The angel didn't say a word. Instead he took Harry's hands in his and drew the pain away.

Harry felt warmth flooding into his arms through his fingers. The ache was replaced with heat. He slumped his shoulders when he figured out what Castiel was doing. "You don't have to," he mumbled.

"I know." Castiel wouldn't heal Harry if he didn't want to. "I want to." He wanted any excuse to meet.

"You can't be in here."

"… I know." Dimissed again. He disappeared without fanfare.

He arrived in his Heaven and sat on the warm bench to think. Why was he torturing himself this way? Why did Harry matter? He closed his eyes as he thought back to that day in the hospital, when he had felt compelled to save the wizard from Death. Their fates became entwined because of one impulsive decision on his part. A selfish decision. Harry had been ready to die. And now this… Another selfish, impulsive decision on his part. He fell in love for the very first time. Harry had no say in that.

All these encounters with the young wizard since New Year's Day – confessing about Jimmy, waking him from his nightmare, visiting his mother's grave – it was all supposed to lead to something. It had to lead somewhere.

Instead, Harry acted like nothing was different. He was being mild mannered, his words were vague, he appeared so distant.

Castiel pressed a hand to his heart, trying to calm it down. There was only so much he could take. When had he grown impatient?

Why wouldn't Harry just listen?!

He suddenly found himself in Harry's study.

His sleeve was snagged and he was yanked down hard.

He ended up crouched under the desk, bewildered as he blinked at Harry who was pulling the chair back in place. "What are you doing?"

"Shush."

Being so close to Harry was stifling. Just inches apart. Castiel stared at the young wizard's profile with no thought about consequences. He could just reach out if he wanted to. He really wanted to.

They heard the door swing open just then, prompting them to go still and silent. Cautious footsteps echoed in the musty library, pausing for a beat. There was some shuffling to one side, followed by shuffling to the other side.

Then…

"Haaaarry? Where aaaare you?"

Harry slapped a hand over Castiel's mouth and glared at him just in time to stop him from answering to Teddy's taunt.

Footsteps followed the path of the room, making a slow arc from the bookshelves on one end to the windows at the back. From under the desk, they could see the boy's plaid pajamas and socked feet moving deliberately. They didn't have to hold their breaths for long. Teddy passed the bureau without looking under it. He walked along the other edge of the bookshelves after peeking behind curtains. When he came up empty, he let out a frustrated sigh and ran out the door. "This house is too big," he muttered to himself.

Harry relaxed as soon as his godson was out of earshot. "You nearly gave me away," he frowned at Castiel in reproach. He pushed the chair out of the way so they could climb out from under there. As he got up to his feet, he wondered if he should double back or if Teddy would be expecting him to do that.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked again.

"I'm hiding."

"But why?"

"Why?" Harry narrowed his eyes. "Um… That's how hide and seek works."

"Oh."

He saw Castiel's obvious confusion. "Now that's surprising," he murmured to himself with a faint smile. He wound around the desk and made for the door. "I thought you were all for games." He disappeared around the corridor.

"I never…" Castiel trailed off. "Ah…" He felt a gentle twist in his chest.

Harry wasn't being dismissive after all.

It was just the opposite.

Harry had finally started playing with him.

He had been so focused on getting a reaction that he had forgotten how important not getting a reaction is. The fact that he wasn't being pulled close shouldn't matter…

Harry wasn't pushing him away like before.

Castiel's heart beat faster than ever now. He didn't know how to play this game…

Sam and Dean scowled at the dazed angel in disgust.

"You have to help me," he insisted.

"Ugh. No."