Chapter Text
It’s a gorgeous day along the Southern California coastline, seventy-seven degrees in early April and with the type of breeze brushing through the air that provides a satisfying sweep of cool air without being bothersome. The sun is out and so are the runners, bikers, hipsters, surfers, and dog owners. The atmosphere is cheerful, bright and lively. Some would call it picturesque, but not Dean Winchester. Dean simply calls it awesome .
He strolls along the shoreline taking in the scenery, his brother’s big, goofy dog in tow. Actually, she’s not so much “in tow” as she is running around in the general vicinity. This is why Dean likes the off-leash dog beaches the best; there’s just something wrong about bringing a dog to a beach and not allowing her to run free, chase tennis balls, or splash in the water. He isn’t even particularly fond of dogs, or so he says, but he’s not a monster. Besides, it’s basically free entertainment and exercise for the pup with minimal effort on his part (and if she’s so worn out that she sleeps the rest of the day and doesn’t bother him, he’s not going to complain).
Dean has been at the beach for over two hours already and the familiar soreness in his muscles from walking along the sand has begun to creep in. The sun’s heat is settling on his face and arms and he thinks he should probably call it a day, since he hasn’t applied sunscreen since before leaving the apartment this morning. As he readies himself to make his way back to his card, another dog comes bounding up to him, circling his legs.
Bending down to pet the dog, a young puppy by the looks of him, Dean expects him to get a couple of curious sniffs in before taking off again in search of something or someone more exciting, but the put doesn’t leave. Instead, he keeps nuzzling up to Dean, wagging his tail and practically begging for attention as he winds in and around Dean’s legs. The puppy has a reddish tone to his otherwise sandy-brown fur and big, floppy ears, and is so adorable that even Dean ultimately can’t resist dropping down to his knees to play with the little guy.
It doesn’t take long for Sam’s dog to notice the newcomer and she comes running back to join in on the attention. A few moments later and Dean is nothing but an afterthought for the dogs as they make fast friends and take off chasing each other out into the water. He’s laughing at the two of them when his ears perk up. Someone is yelling for their dog, which is typical at a dog beach, but he knows panic when he hears it.
“Sebastian! Seb?! Seb! Where are you?! Come on, boy!”
Dean looks up and sees that the voice belongs to a tall, dark haired man, who looks absolutely frantic. He’s carrying a pair of gym shoes and an empty leash in his hands. He’s wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a navy blue button-up collared shirt, the cuffs on both are haphazardly rolled up and his hair is wild. This guy looks so out of place that it would be comical if it weren’t for the terror and worry written all over his face.
He should do something. The poor guy is alone and no one is bothering to help him. Dean stands up and walks towards him.
“Hey man. You okay? Did you lose your dog?” he asks carefully.
“I can’t find him anywhere. He just took off running and I couldn’t keep up! Oh God, she’s going to kill me. I need to find him.” The man’s words tumble out in a rush while he runs a hand through his hair (ah - so that’s why it looks like the dude just rolled out of a good night in bed).
“Okay. Alright. It’ll be fine. I’ll help you look. What does your dog look like?” Dean’s problem solving instincts kick in and he immediately gets into leader-mode.
The man suddenly stops and looks at Dean as though he only just now realized that he was standing there. He stares at him for a long moment before he finds his voice. “Oh. Uh. He’s a ummm… he’s a puppy and only about this high.” He waves his hand around his kneecap, trying to gauge the dog’s general height. “I think he’s a Visla? Maybe? He has kind of reddish fur and floppy ears, and... and I don’t know… he’s a dog!”
Dean can’t help the smile that crosses his face right then. He tries to, he really does, but he can’t stop it. The guy looks at him with a mix of hopelessness and agitation, and now Dean feels like an asshole for not being able to control himself. He steps next to the man so they are side by side and he places a hand on his shoulder.
“Could that be the little guy you’re looking for?” Dean points to where the two dogs are sprinting through the shallow tide chasing each other, stopping to jump and paw at one another before the chase begins again. The guy peers out at the beach and Dean knows exactly when he recognizes his own dog because his shoulders relax and he breathes out a heavy sigh. He then bends at the waist, puts his hands on his knees, and drops his head in relief. “Come on, man. Why don’t you have a seat - you look like you could use a breather.” Dean pats him on the back and leads them further away from the shore where they can sit in the sand without getting wet.
The two of them are seated before the other man speaks again. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost him.” He looks so relieved that Dean wonders for a moment if he’s going to cry.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. See that golden lab he’s playing with? That one belongs to me. Your dog came up to us not long before I saw you. Looks like they’re friends now.” The dogs still haven’t stopped their game of chase.
“Well I’m glad he was out making friends while I was losing my mind shouting his name.” The sarcastic tone makes Dean chuckle.
“He really doesn’t seem like he has a care in the world, does he?” The man makes an annoyed huff but cracks half of a smile as he shakes his head and, with it, Dean can see that last bit of tension leave his body. Dean is finally getting a better look at him now, and damn, the guy is attractive. He’s wearing all the wrong things for a day at the beach, but that doesn’t stop Dean from noticing the toned biceps under the fitted shirt, or the strong jawline underneath a hint of day-old stubble, or the immensely blue eyes reflecting the ocean right back at him. The air leaves his lungs and he blinks a few times to bring it back.
“I’m Dean, by the way.” He sticks out his hand for a handshake before his thoughts get the best of him, and the stranger shakes back with a firm grip and long, strong fingers.
“Hello, Dean.” His voice is deep, but there’s a soothing softness to it, too. “I’m Castiel and that’s Sebastian, but we usually just call him Seb.”
Damn. Dean doesn’t miss the “we” in that sentence. Didn’t he also mention a “she” earlier? That’s right, he said that ‘she’ would kill him if he lost their dog. The instant and distinct disappointment he feels at that takes him by surprise.
“Castiel and Sebastian? That’s quite the set of names.” Dean says Castiel’s name slowly and enjoys the way it rolls off his tongue. It’s different and unique, pleasant. Castiel stares directly back at him and swallows before answering.
“Yes, well, I didn’t choose either of those names. My parents obviously gave me mine, but Charlie chose the name ‘Sebastian’. He’s supposed to be named after some famous lobster or something.” Dean raises an eyebrow, confused, so Castiel continues. “Charlie has red hair, like a fairytale princess, I think? And the lobster is friends with the princess somehow - I honestly don’t understand it.”
“Dude, really?! That’s how Sebastian got his name?” Dean fails at holding back a laugh and Castiel just looks at him with his eyebrows pinched together, like he’s missing the punchline to a very important joke.
“I take it this means something to you? Do you understand that reference?”
“Okay. First of all… Sebastian is a crab , not a lobster, and he’s a friend of Ariel.” Castiel blinks at him. “ The Little Mermaid ? Disney movie? Ariel is the mermaid with the red hair.” If possible, Castiel appears even more confused as he cocks his head a little to the side. “Really? Nothing?”
“No,” he answers bluntly, “but I’m glad to know that at least someone else knows what she’s talking about. I’ll tell her that you got it.”
Dean’s having a difficult time getting a read on this guy, which only encourages him to continue.
“That dog out there playing with Seb? That’s Zazu. She’s mostly a pain in the ass, but I like her. She’s actually my brother’s dog and I’m watching her while he’s out of town. It was his girlfriend that chose the name, but I doubt my brother put up much of a fight over it. One of her favorite childhood movies is The Lion King , so yeah, I get it.”
“Wait… does the lion have anything to do with the lobs-- uh, crab? I’m very confused.”
“Okay, seriously? Zazu is a character from The Lion King , a squawkie little bird. I’m not exactly a Disney expert or anything, but you are talking about some of the classics here! You really don’t know these movies?”
Castiel just stares back at Dean and tilts his head to the side again, looking lost and confused, but also really adorable. “I’m sorry. I’m not much for movies.” He shrugs and glances down, pushing sand around with his forefinger.
Dean doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he looks back out towards the dogs still playing in the water and leans back, resting his weight on his wrists as he enjoys the feel of the sun on his face and the company of his new companion. A minute or so passes when he decides to speak again.
“So what brings you out here? No offense, but you don’t look like you were exactly planning on a day at the beach.”
Castiel glances at him and quirks a half-smile. “Am I that obvious?”
“Just a little.” Dean means to make a joke or some sarcastic comment to keep the mood light, but the words never come. Instead, he catches himself staring at Castiel for just a second too long, mesmerized by his husky voice and the blue in his eyes. He’s about to feel embarrassed for the prolonged eye contact, but then realizes that Castiel is starting right back at him. Dean breaks the eye contact first, and Castiel seems to shake himself back to the present.
“I just moved here not too long ago and I’ve never spent much time at a beach. I am clearly very unprepared for such an experience, but Charlie asked if I could bring Seb here and I couldn’t tell her no. She’s very persuasive when she wants something.”
“Ha, I know what you mean. My brother, Sam, can get the same way. He has this puppy dog look he gets in his eyes and it damn near works on me every time. Always has.” Another short pause and Dean already finds himself eager to know more about Castiel. “So, where did you move from, anyway?”
“Chicago.”
“That’s quite a distance.”
“Yes, it is.”
Alright, so Castiel is a man a few words. Dean can accept this challenge. It’s not like there’s anything keeping Castiel rooted to the sand and he doesn’t seem annoyed, so Dean keeps going.
“I’m originally from Kansas. I moved out here several years ago when my brother decided to make California his permanent home. After he left Kansas, there really wasn’t anything to keep me there, and besides, who could say no to palm trees, beaches, bikinis, and year-round sunny weather, right?” He flashes a smile at Castiel, hoping that sharing a bit of himself will encourage him to open up. To his disappointment, Castiel’s face seems to close off and the grin that had been lingering fades away. He pulls his legs up to his chest and hugs them with his left arm while his chin rests on top of his knees, and he begins to draw random shapes into the sand with his right hand. Dean isn’t sure what to do, but then Castiel speaks.
“I got a job offer here that I couldn’t pass up. Much like you, I didn’t have anything holding me back in Chicago, not really, so here I am.”
“Do you like it out here?”
Castiel shrugs and keeps playing with the sand. “Haven’t really been here long enough to make up my mind on that just yet. Moving to a new place can be very… lonely, but this is a big city with a lot to do.” He seems timid now as he’s speaking.
“What about Charlie? Does she like living in California?”
Castiel looks up at him, like it’s a weird question to ask, and Dean wonders if he’s somehow managed to cross a line by bringing up his girlfriend. Or maybe she’s his wife? He isn’t sure, but he’s only trying to be polite. “Ummm… she seems to like it, I guess.”
Okay then, Dean should steer clear of the girlfriend talk. Got it.
“Well, if you--” His words are cut short when Castiel starts speaking at the same time while making a move to get to his feet.
“I should actually get going. I’ve already been here much longer than expected.” He stands, brushing the sand off of his hands and jeans the best he can, Dean following his lead.
“Oh yeah. Of course. I was about to do the same before Zaz made a new best friend.” He turns to look back out at the dogs, whistles, and calls for them. “Zaz! Come!” She may be a big goofy ball of fur, but at least Sam taught her to obey commands quite well. Sure enough, Zaz turns direction and races towards Dean, Seb following closely behind. When the dogs reach them, Dean and Castiel attach the leashes, ready to head home.
“Thanks again, for finding Seb.” Castiel stands up straight after gathering his shoes and looks at Dean, offering his hand for another handshake.
“Hey, I didn’t even do anything.” He reaches out to shake Castiel’s hand. “I’m just glad he decided to stop and hang out with Zaz here. They got in a pretty intense workout. Zaz will sleep for the rest of the day and for that , I should be the one thanking you. I bet Seb will knock out, too.”
“I can only hope to be so lucky. I swear he’s got more energy than should be legal.”
Dean chuckles at the skeptical frown on Castiel’s face, and then they catch each other’s eyes again as silence falls between them. Dean sees something in those sapphire eyes looking back at him, but he can’t name it. All he knows is that he feels drawn to Castiel, with an inexplicable desire to get closer to him, in any way that he can. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that Castiel makes him feel… a sense of longing, but that’s ridiculous. It doesn’t make any sense. They met a whole ten minutes ago, and yet, if he’s not totally misreading the situation, he thinks that maybe Castiel is hesitating? Staying put just a little too long?
Their eyes linger on one another in a way that anyone else would describe as awkward, but Dean can’t bring himself to look away. Did Castiel just lean in closer to him? Nah. This has to all be in Dean’s head. The sun must be getting to him. He’s probably dehydrated. This guy is a total stranger who has a girlfriend - and it’s definitely a girlfriend (not a wife) because a quick glance at Castiel’s left hand shows no ring, and Castiel seems like the kind of guy who would want to do the whole commitment thing. Dean doesn’t dare question why that thought crosses his mind, but he feels like he just knows this information somehow.
Seb makes a playful yelp, clearly unamused by the strange staring contest happening, and it proves to be a successful distraction. Castiel bends down to give Seb a pat on the head and takes a step back, away from Dean and in the direction from which he came.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Cas.” Dean steps backwards, heading in the opposite direction, putting his hand up in a meager attempt at a wave.
Cas tilts his head again before another half-smile makes its way from his lips to his eyes.
“Goodbye, Dean.”
With that, Castiel turns down the beach with Seb trotting happily alongside him. Dean watches them walk away for just a moment before he also turns away, he and Zaz making their way back up the shore towards where the car is parked. As he goes, he can’t help but feel like he is leaving something behind. He might have actually asked for Castiel’s number had it not been for the girlfriend thing, but even so, walking away just doesn’t feel right. That thought in mind, Dean looks back over his shoulder.
He can’t tell if he’s surprised or not to find that Cas is looking back at him, too.
With that image in his head, Dean spends the rest of the day thinking about the beautiful man with the funny name and the intense blue eyes.
That evening, Dean crashes into his bed, exhausted. Zaz jumps right up next to him and promptly makes herself comfortable alongside Dean’s legs. When she first attempted to sleep in his bed, he had tried to tell her no, he really did, but she’s about as stubborn as Sam, and he no longer remembers when he gave up the fight. He’ll never admit it to Sam, but he really doesn’t mind having lost this one. The two of them fall fast asleep, happily worn out from a day in the sun.
*****
When Dean falls asleep, for the first time in a very long time, he dreams.
He dreams of a storm. There’s bright lightning and thunder strong enough to shake the earth beneath his feet and make his chest rumble. He doesn’t recognize where he is - some kind of shed, or maybe a barn. He hears more than he feels a rush of wind followed by a startling bang. The barn doors slam open and standing on the other side is a tall, dark haired man in a long coat. Dean can’t quite make out his face.
The man marches towards him and the room fills with flashes of fire and light, sparks dancing all around, cascading from the ceiling. The man stops and Dean’s heart slows. He should be scared, he should run, but he stays put, unable to tear his eyes away the stranger. He’s transfixed. Another particularly vivid flash of light illuminates the room, and Dean picks up on something large and looming just behind the figure. The way the light plays against it, it almost looks like… wings .
Dean wakes abruptly and during his first few moments of groggy consciousness, the dream sits at the edges of Dean’s mind. The images quickly begin to lose focus and the details are already fading, eluding him and slipping from his mind’s grasp like a receding tide. Even as the dream makes it’s escape, Dean feels it tugging at him, begging not to be let go. He is weighed down with a sense of nostalgia and familiarity, but has no idea why. He tries to hold onto anything he can remember, but as his memory fades, so does the man with the wild hair.
Dean can’t help but to think that he knows him.
Chapter Text
A few weeks pass and Dean has nearly all but forgotten about Sebastian and his blue-eyed owner… mostly. Tonight, at least, any lingering thoughts of Castiel are miles away.
Tonight, a nervous excitement fills the air at the Roadhouse Bar and Grill and the place is absolutely buzzing. It’s mostly packed full of family and friends for what has been dubbed its “Grand Pre-Opening”, a somewhat private event. The restaurant has not been opened to the public quite yet, but the kitchen and bar are fully staffed for the guests and service is in full swing. In addition to the usual familiar faces, the invitees include a select list of well known community members as well as journalists belonging to local newspapers, magazines, and food blogs. The hope is that the event will drum up excitement for the Roadhouse’s grand opening next week, when the doors officially open and all of Bobby and Ellen’s hard work is laid bare to the court of public opinion.
Dean fondly watches as Ellen attempts to fix the collar on Bobby’s dress shirt while he grumbles in the corner about having to “get all gussied up.” He smiles at his adoptive parents and could not be more proud of all they have accomplished. The night is still young and as he surveys the area, he’s already overwhelmed at the supportive turnout.
The Roadhouse is something that Bobby and Ellen have been slowly working towards for the past several years, Ellen having always wanted to own her own restaurant but putting her ambitions on hold when two little boys were unexpectedly placed in her care all those years ago. Dean’s heart clenches at the memory and the knowledge of her sacrifice and he forces the thoughts aside to avoid becoming emotional, focusing instead on Bobby’s amusing display of childish obstinance.
Bobby, of course, understands that tonight is a big deal, hell, his life’s savings is tied up entirely with the Roadhouse’s success, but he’s always been one to feel uncomfortable in anything fancier than old jeans and a baseball cap. If it were up to him, he’d choose to remain unseen tonight, either helping in the kitchen or working in the small upstairs office they had built above the bar, but Ellen would never let him get away with hiding on a night like tonight.
Dean’s adoptive sister, Jo, and longtime family friend, Ash, are both here helping as well, Jo waiting on tables and Ash working his magic behind the bar. The popularity of this pre-opening can largely be attributed to those two (but if anyone asks Bobby, which no one really does, they are the ones to blame for it). Jo and Ash put forth a relentless campaign about the importance and benefits of a strong social media presence, especially for locally owned and operated businesses in an industry dominated by large corporate chains. Ellen supported the idea from the beginning and, though it took awhile to get Bobby on board, he at least had the good sense to admit that he wasn’t a public relations expert and should probably leave those decisions to his younger cohorts.
Dean mingles with the crowd, helping out when and where he can. He doesn’t have an official job to perform at the restaurant tonight, but being the natural charmer that he is, he mostly stays at the front and welcomes the guests alongside the host. Considering that Bobby and Ellen are the two people who raised him and his brother after their parents died when they were young, he’d do just about anything he could to give them something back, so if he can spend his Saturday night being their errand boy and helping to ease the stress if only a little, he damn well will. It’s the same reason that Sam is here with his girlfriend, Jess, even though he should probably be home studying for his upcoming Bar Exam, having recently graduated from Stanford Law School.
Currently, Dean is chatting up a gorgeous blonde woman who claims to run a popular food blog, but Dean’s not buying it - he knows how to spot a liar, especially if they suck at it. For one thing, the poor woman suddenly can’t remember the name of her own blog and isn’t able to backstep quickly enough to recover from her mistake. She stumbles over her next words while an intense blush washes over her face and neck. Dean can’t help but be amused at her discomfort, but he’s not about to turn her away. She has a legitimate invitation and Dean makes a guess that Ash has something to do with it. His suspicions are confirmed when the woman looks somewhere over his shoulder and gives and enthusiastic wave. Dean turns to see Ash waving back and gesturing for her to walk over to the bar to meet him.
As the woman steps aside and heads for the bar, Dean lifts his head to greet the next guest in line to enter, and sucks in a sharp breath. Staring directly at him is a set of intense blue eyes that he’d recognize anywhere, even after only having seen them once before. Like a pro, he composes himself and hopes that the smile he flashes is enough to hide the embarrassing look of surprise that he’s sure was written all over his face for a split second.
“Hiya, Cas! Fancy meeting you here.” Castiel’s eyes flare wide at the moment of recognition, and Dean feels proud of himself for remembering his name; it doesn’t matter that he’s had the guy’s face in his mind since they walked away from one another at the beach, no one needs to know that part, but damn , does he look just as good as Dean remembers. Castiel is wearing fitted dark jeans with a black t-shirt under a maroon blazer. There’s a brown leather bag slung over his shoulder and he looks every bit the part of a young, casual professor. He has barely-there stubble on his face and Dean swears his skin is already a shade darker from the California sun. He silently wonders if Castiel has been back at the beach.
“Hello, Dean.”
Okay. So Cas remembers his name, too. This is good. It’s fine. It’s also totally fine that he definitely did not imagine how deep and soothing Cas’s voice is. Dean feels a small rush of happiness at seeing him again, but quickly tries to ignore the jolt of excitement that flutters in his chest.
“What brings you in tonight?”
Castiel fumbles to pull an invitation out of his shoulder bag and hands it over. “I was invited to the pre-opening event.” Awkward looks flit across his face and Dean isn’t quite sure what to make of him just yet.
“You got an invite?”
“Yes. My last name is Novak and I am here on behalf of Cali Coast Roast . ”
Dean nearly chokes on the silent gasp that he inhales. The Cali Coast Roast is a magazine dedicated to reviewing all the hottest spots up and down Southern California. It’s also renowned for its associated food blog. A good review with this magazine and blog is basically the holy grail of approval stamps and all but guarantees a successful opening simply due to its mass amount of followers. Dean knows that Jo and Ash specifically sent the publication an invite, but no one actually expected them to send someone and, of course, Dean is even more surprised that that someone is Cas.
“ That is your new job? To write for Coast Roast ?”
“Well, actually, they hired me on as an editor, but I don’t want to get away from my writing, so I asked to take on some journalism assignments as well. This is my first one.” Cas is shy, but Dean can also sense the pride he possesses in mentioning his career.
“Wow. So you’re here to write about the Roadhouse?”
“That's the intention, yes. The job I left in Chicago was as a food and beverage critic. It’s why they let me have this assignment when the original journalist fell ill.” He pauses for a moment and looks up at Dean with concern raising his eyebrows. In a nervous rush, he continues; “Is this going to be an issue? Is this your restaurant? I can assure you that I am quite capable of remaining objective, but if you--”
“No, no. Not mine…” Dean cuts him off, not wanting Cas to worry, “...but I do know the owners. They’re family. I’m just here lending a hand, but I don’t work here in any official capacity.” Dean sees Cas let out a relieved breath. “Why don’t I show you to your seat?”
Dean is eager to get Castiel settled and comfortable as quickly as possible. Not only is the fluttering feeling in his chest at seeing him again unnerving, but Dean absolutely isn’t about to be the one to screw up a major opportunity for Ellen and Bobby, even if they probably have no idea about it.
Cas smiles as Dean grabs a menu and guides him over to a small table along the far right wall, directly opposite the bar at the back and right next to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the busy city outside. Where the table is located, Castiel has a great view of the entire scene - he can stare out the window, watch Ash work his magic behind the bar, or he can take in the rest of the seating area and simply people watch.
“Here we are, best seat in the house!” Dean pulls out Cas’s chair and he accepts, dropping his shoulder bag down next to him.
“Thank you, but please, I don’t want any kind of special treatment. You weren’t saving this seat for someone else were you?”
“Nah, this is just my personal favorite spot. You’re not getting any special treatment, you’re just getting the Dean treatment.” He shoots Castiel a quick wink, laying on his Winchester charm and then, leaning in conspiratorially, he adds, “Although, I would argue that that in itself is pretty damn special, so maybe just don’t tell anyone.”
Cas smiles brightly at him for the briefest moment before he schools his face back to a look that is far more reserved, though Dean still notices the faint pink hue that brushes across Cas’s cheeks. Dean hands him over the menu and lets him know that his server will be someone named Alfie. Cas thanks him and Dean has to will himself to walk away. This is basically a business setting and no matter how much he might want to strike up a conversation with the guy, now is certainly not the time.
Throughout the evening, Dean finds his eyes wandering across the room in search of a head of dark, unruly hair. Each time he spots Castiel, something behind his ribcage dips in excited anticipation, a feeling of relief mixed with nervousness that Cas is still there. More often than not, he also finds that Cas is already staring back at him, their eyes meeting across the room. It’s like they can sense each other’s presence, or some shit like that, and Dean isn’t sure if it’s kind of cool, or kind of creepy. Maybe a little of both?
When there seems to be a lull in the evening, that magical moment when the restaurant is packed full yet calm, he decides to walk back over just to check in.
“So Cas, how’s it going? Alfie treating you alright?”
Cas wipes his face with a napkin and sets his hands in his lap. “Yes, thank you very much. The food is delicious.”
“Glad to hear it! The recipes are all original. It’s mostly Ellen’s handiwork, but a few other family members have added their own touches along the way.”
“What about you? Did you have a hand in any of the meals?”
Dean can’t help it, he beams with pride before he gives an answer, but his smile must be answer enough because he notices that Cas’s own face lights up in response. “The next time you come back, which I certainly hope you’ll want to, you’ll have to try the bacon burger. I know it sounds boring and basic, but I promise you that you’ve never had anything like it. That meal is my own creation.”
“I was considering that as one of my options. Now I’m disappointed that I didn’t go with my gut instinct when making my selection. I’ll most definitely have to come back to try it.” Cas looks down with a shy half-smile on his face and Dean can’t tell if he’s embarrassed or maybe just nervous. It throws him off because wouldn’t someone who works as a food critic and has a career in journalism be a little more arrogant? No, that’s not the right word. Well, maybe it is, but it’s certainly not a word that belongs anywhere close to Cas. But shouldn’t he be more confident or opinionated? Dean doesn’t exactly know how these kinds of things work, but he definitely had an expectation and this wasn’t it.
Suddenly, Dean realizes that they are caught in another wordless moment that lasts just a tad longer than what seems normal. He snaps himself out of it as best he can. What is it with this guy that makes his mind wander and his heart race? Sure, he’s beautiful and interesting and somehow different than anyone Dean’s met in a very long time, but they’ve spoken all of two times. He needs to reel it in.
“Yeah, that’d be great. But you did happen to order one of the best items on the menu, if you want my opinion. I can’t take credit for it, but I can tell you that it’s one of Ellen’s best recipes. I’ve never had jambalaya like hers and you won’t find anything else like it in California. I’d be willing to bet on that.”
“When I’m writing a piece, I usually don’t discuss my opinions until it’s published, but just between you and me, I will say that I have to agree with you, so I won’t be betting against you anytime soon,” he answers, voice lowered as if he’s letting Dean in on a secret.
Dean laughs and relaxes into the easiness of their conversation. He absolutely loves to hear others sing the praises of Ellen and Bobby. They’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so much throughout their lives to make this place what it is (not to mention, to help make Dean and Sam into the young men they’ve become) and they deserve all the happiness in the world for it. He’s never had a doubt that the restaurant would be successful, but to hear that other people enjoy the food and (hopefully) the atmosphere, it just deepens his convictions.
“That’s good to hear, Cas. That’s really good to hear,” Dean gushes with a bright smile.
Cas looks nervous again, and Dean almost asks if everything is alright before Cas speaks first. “Dean, I know that I’m here on a professional capacity and I’m sure you are very busy, but if you’re not needed immediately, would you like to s--”.
His words are cut off as a hand is placed on Dean’s shoulder from someone standing behind him. He turns around to come face to face with Ellen. She looks more stressed out than she has been all evening, so that can’t be a good sign.
“Apologies for the interruption fellas. Dean? Bobby and Sam could really use your help in the kitchen. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” He gives Ellen a squeeze to her forearm in a gesture that he hopes is reassuring. Before walking away, he glances at Cas and offers him a small smile as a quick apology. Cas understands and gives him a silent nod in return.
As Dean walks away, he hears Ellen address Castiel; “Hiya honey. Everything to your liking? Can I get you anything?” He turns to see Ellen patting him on the shoulder.
Dean had decided earlier not to tell anyone that Cas was from Coast Roast because he didn’t want anyone losing their cool over it. The nervous tension was difficult enough to deal with, and no one needed the added pressure of knowing they were being watched by a journalist from such a prestigious publication; however, in this moment, Dean is worried that perhaps he made a mistake in keeping Cas’s identity under wraps. Ellen has such a familial quality about her that Dean wonders if maybe her easygoing approach to customers might come off as a bit unprofessional to someone like a food critic. Do they frown upon that? Will the Roadhouse lose points because of it? Wait. Is the judging process even based off points? Shit. Maybe he should have told someone.
Well, too late now. He just really hopes that he hasn’t done anything to mess up this opportunity. Ellen and Bobby both worked too hard for Dean to be the one to fuck this up. They deserve to have everything.
Dean reluctantly heads to the kitchen to find Bobby red in the face and stuck somewhere between frustrated and horrified while Sam stands against the wall dumbfounded, several bowls of tomato bisque turned upside down on the floor between them. Dean doesn’t wait to be told what’s going on and immediately jumps into action, directing Sam to help clean the mess while he and Bobby get another batch started in record time. This is the type of situation in which Dean thrives - one where others look to him for help, where he can be a leader and problem solver, and where he can turn a potentially disastrous situation right side up again.
The bisque debacle is handled with relative ease and Bobby doesn’t strangle Sam in the process, so Dean’s gonna call this an overall win. He stays in the kitchen a little while longer to help with other miscellaneous tasks and he lets Bobby bark orders at him until things feel back to normal.
By the time he’s ready to head out of the kitchen and back out into the crowd, he realizes it’s been nearly forty minutes. Cas is sure to have left by now. Damn. He was really hoping for one more chance to talk with him, maybe get a feel for how the review is going to go, or maybe to lay on his charm a little more, or maybe just to see if he can coax out one more of those small little smiles Cas lets slip on occasion. What’s the harm in that, right? If he leaves the restaurant smiling, then he’s bound to recall his experience as a positive one. So what if Dean wants to be the one to make him smile? It’s not like the food didn’t also do its job in leaving a good impression.
He leaves the kitchen and his eyes immediately dart towards Cas’s table. Shit. It’s empty. He’s already gone.
With a small weight of disappointment tugging at his chest, he scans the room looking for Ellen. Now that he’s lent his hand in the kitchen, he might as well find out if she could use him for anything. It only takes a few seconds before he spots her. She’s near the front doors and, to Dean’s surprise, Cas is standing with her. He’s smiling, but there is something slightly forced about it, reserved. The air in the room seems to shift and Dean can feel his pulse beat a few times against his cheeks. It’s a strange sensation, but along with it comes an unexplained urge to reach out to Cas, to make sure he’s okay. Nothing seems particularly wrong or urgent, but he feels the need to be sure.
Dean catches his voice in his throat before he does the embarrassing thing and calls out from across the restaurant. Instead, he takes a step in their direction and as he does so, Cas glances up and their eyes meet. It might be his imagination, but he swears he sees Cas’s smile widen and his shoulders relax. As Dean approaches, he puts his arm around Ellen’s shoulder in an attempt to exude a cool indifference. “Everything okay over here?” He smiles sweetly at Ellen and then turns to Cas and gives him a grin.
“We’re fine, baby, thanks for asking. I was just telling Mr. Novak a little history about the place, but I think he’s just humoring me at this point.” Ellen turns her attention back to Castiel. “Thank you so much for joining us this evening and we look forward to having you back here real soon.”
“Thank you, Ellen. The pleasure was mine. You have a beautiful restaurant and I wish you great success.” He sounds genuine and Dean can’t help but smile at the compliment. Ellen looks flattered and she reaches out to give Castiel a gentle squeeze on his shoulder before she turns and heads back towards the other patrons.
Dean watches her go and when he turns back again to face Cas, he’s got a slight but fond grin on his face. “She’s lovely.”
“You’ll find no argument with me there.”
There is a silence that settles between them then. Neither of them knowing exactly what to say next, but yet they don’t make a move to walk away either. It’s Dean who breaks the silence first.
“So thanks for coming by tonight. I hope you enjoyed yourself”, and then, as an afterthought he clarifies, “and not just because of, you know, it being your job and all that.”
“I did, thank you. I meant it when I told Ellen that this place is amazing. I think that she and Bobby will be very successful.”
“Yeah, me too.” Dean glances over his shoulder towards Ellen’s retreating frame before twisting back to Cas. “Oh! By the way, how’s Sebastian doing? Any more attempts to sneak out and make new friends?”
Dean intends to give Cas one of his devastatingly disarming grins. He means to flirt and to lay on all his Winchester charm, but it comes out all wrong. He feels soft and shy and awkward and... what is wrong with him?! If his awkwardness is obvious, at least Cas pays no attention to it.
“He’s just fine. Apparently, ‘that’s just the way he is,’ according to Charlie.” Cas uses air-quotes and Dean wants to laugh and call him adorable, but with some effort, he refrains from doing either. “She basically laughed at me when I told her that I nearly had a breakdown when he took off out of my sight. I feel a bit like an idiot, but now I know better, I guess.”
“Nah, you’re not an idiot. You clearly care a great deal about Charlie and little Seb, is all” and before he can stop himself, he adds, “and they are obviously very lucky to have you.” Once again, Cas looks at him with a mix of uncertainty, as though he’s weary of Dean approaching some imaginary line that indicates he’s about to cross into a territory that’s too personal.
Right. No girlfriend talk. He remembers now.
Before he can make an attempt to rectify it, Cas is already making his exit. “Yes, well, thanks again for your hospitality - I should be going now. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.” There’s an annoyed tilt to his response and Dean secretly berates himself for causing it.
“Right, of course. I’m sure you have a lot of work to do, too.” Dean doesn’t want him to leave, which is stupid, because what reason would he have to stay?
Castiel extends his arm again for an impersonal yet professional handshake. Dean complies and smiles through it.
“It was good to see you again, Cas.”
“You, too, Dean. Have a good night,” and with that, Cas turns and exits the restaurant as Dean deflates.
He resists the urge to run after Cas and apologize, or maybe ask for his phone number, or both, but he can’t. The guy clearly has a family. Besides, it’s possible he’s simply misreading the whole thing. He feels like he has a connection with Cas, but maybe Dean’s just desperate. Sam has told him as much recently, anyway. How long has it been since he’s gotten any action? Two months? Three? Yeah, that’s probably it. He just needs a good roll in the hay and he’ll stop obsessing over some guy he’s met all of two times now. Okay, so it’s decided. He’s going out tonight.
Things are dying down at the restaurant now, but he stays for another hour and a half to help Ellen take care of a few things. As he’s stocking a crate of clean glasses behind the bar, he tells Jo and Ash about his plans for the evening and they enthusiastically agree to join him. Sam, on the other hand, isn’t quite as easily persuaded. Luckily, Jess is there to remind him that he’s been wound up so tight with all his studying that he could use a night off and that she could use a couple of drinks and a dance floor. Within the hour, plans are settled and they are itching to get out of there.
Bobby and Ellen eventually push them all out the door with plenty of hugs and thank-you’s passed around. The group of five walks the few blocks to end up at one of Dean’s favorite bars. It’s a dive of a place, but they serve cheap drinks and he knows most of the bartenders there, including the owner. It also doesn’t hurt that there’s more often than not a selection of beautiful college students who find their way inside. It’s perfect, actually - it’s enough of a dive not to be too popular or overcrowded, but also approachable enough that there’s generally a steady crowd of twenty and thirty-somethings.
They head inside and since it’s already quite late, the few larger tables are taken. Jo spots a small table in the corner that has been recently vacated, so they make their way over, Jo and Jess taking the only two stools available. It’s no matter, Dean won’t be sticking around for long anyway, he has other plans and his gaze immediately starts scanning the crowd for potential candidates.
“Jeeze, Dean. Subtle, much? Why don’t we have a drink first before you go hunting for better company.” Sam says it jokingly, but Dean knows there is a hint of honesty there.
“Hey, let the man look! Not everyone is as lucky in love as you and Jess,” Ash defends. “Besides, our buddy here is out of practice. He’s going to need some time to get the training wheels back off again.”
“Okay. Woah. You’re both assholes, you know that?” Dean acts offended, but there is no heat in his words and he nearly cracks a smile despite his best effort to look angry. Anyway, Ash isn’t exactly wrong. It has been a while and he’s beginning to feel that familiar itch, that need for intimate contact.
He’s always been the kind of guy that’s appreciated a satisfying random hookup now and again, and finding someone to spend the night with has never been a problem for Dean, but over the past two years or so, the desire to slip between the sheets with someone who may or may not remember his name the next morning has become less and less of a priority. He’s noticed himself staying at home more often than going out, and on more than one occasion he’s found himself providing an excuse rather than accepting an offer on the table. Honestly, it’s been such a gradual change that he hasn’t much thought about it… until recently. His friends have made offhanded and playful comments about his lack of extracurricular activities, and while that doesn’t really bother him, he can no longer deny the underlying buzz of want that has settled somewhere in his abdomen. He’ll take care of that tonight, though. He’ll get what he needs and he’ll move on. Easy as pie.
The banter continues and Dean picks up the first round of drinks. If he’s going to invite his friends out with the clear intention of bailing on them before the night ends, he figures it’s the least he can do. Before long, Ash is supplying round number two while they all laugh at his story about the girl who met him at the Roadhouse earlier that night. Apparently, she was under the impression that the event was far more extravagant and that Ash was someone of far more importance. Ash pretends to have no idea how she came to that conclusion, but they all have a good laugh at it and Ash is more amused than anyone, so it’s all in good fun.
By round three, courtesy of Jess, the attention turns back to Dean as Jess sets his beer in front of him. “Aren’t you supposed to be sizing up the crowd, Dean? Or were you just milking us for drinks first?” She’s already a little tipsy, the lightweight, but she’s never needed alcohol to get snarky with Dean. She does that just fine all on her own.
Jo takes the opportunity to chime in. “Oh! Let me be your wingman! Do you have a preference for what type of equipment you’re looking to service tonight? Or is this an open bar type of situation?” She gives him a conspiratorial look accompanied by a mischievous wink. “Come on, I need to know what we’re working with here. The night’s not getting any younger and we need to get you laid!”
Dean’s closest friends and family know that he essentially swings both ways. It’s not something he necessarily wears on his sleeve, but he doesn’t hide it from them either. There was a time when he was younger that he felt shame in the fact that he was interested in men in the same way he was interested in women. Then, one evening when he was in his late teens and heavily influenced by one Mr. Jack Daniels, there came an unexpected confession to Sam about his bisexuality. It was immediately followed by Sam’s unprejudiced acceptance and, ever since that night, the weight of it didn’t sit so heavily on his shoulders anymore. He hadn’t realized how much he genuinely feared Sam’s judgement and disappointment until the moment he realized he didn’t have it, and after that, no one else’s opinion really mattered in comparison. From that point on in his life, he’s always surrounded himself with people who accept him exactly as he is and he’s never looked back or felt the need to apologize for himself.
He groans into his hands the moment Jo’s enthusiasm catches on with the rest of them. Jess wastes no time jumping in and scoping out candidates with Jo. The two pester him for his participation as Ash and Sam just sit back and take far too much pleasure in the fact that they are not currently the ones under the girls’ scrutiny.
“Can you two please try not to be so obvious? I don’t need a wingwoman, let alone the both of you butting in,” Dean pleads, though he knows it’s pointless.
“You shut your face and just sit here and look pretty. Jess and I are going to work reconnaissance, so now’s your last chance - preference?” Jo is not what Dean would consider a lightweight in terms of her alcohol intake capabilities, but even he can tell she’s already feeling pretty good. He silently guesses that she gave herself a bit of a head start before leaving the Roadhouse.
Realizing that there’s no escaping this situation that he’s put himself in, he gives in and gives the girls an answer. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not picking a life partner here, I just want to have some fun.” The second the words are out of his mouth, they feel dishonest. It was his instinctual reaction, but it seems off kilter. Just as Jo and Jess look at one another in excitement and stand up from their stools, he can’t stop himself before he puts a hand out and grabs Jo by the elbow, halting her movements.
“Wait.” Jo looks back at him. “A guy. I don’t know, just… yeah. A guy.”
“You got it. We’ll work the room.” And then they’re off to do whatever it is that they plan to do to be Dean’s wingwomen.
Sliding to take Jo’s spot on the stool, he spins himself back to face the small table, trying to ignore the thrum of nervousness buzzing under his skin. When he looks up, he comes face to face with Sam, who is now also sitting directly across from him, having snuck in to steal Jess’s vacated seat. He also sees that in the brief moment of shifting bodies, Ash somehow managed to find himself a few tables over and talking with two beautiful young women. There are smiles all around and Ash’s laugh rings out clear across the bar. Good for him.
When he makes eye contact with Sam again, he finds Sam staring at him with a look on his face that suggests he wants to ask a question, but he’s deciding on whether or not to voice it. Dean knows the look, he just refuses to acknowledge it and focuses his attention on his beer bottle instead, taking a long swallow and downing half the bottle in one go. Sam’s not impressed.
“Dude. You alright?”
“I’m fine, just thirsty.”
“It’s just that...” Sam trips over his words, clearly not accepting Dean’s weak deflection. “You haven’t done the whole random hookup thing in a while and I--” His thought is cut short by Ash and the two women he’s with nearly crashing into their table in a fit of giggles.
Thank god. Dean isn’t sure he could have handled whatever it was that Sam was about to say. He already knows that Sam isn’t a proponent of the one night stand, but to make it worse, Sam has been particularly worried over Dean for the past several months, after his breakup with his last girlfriend, Lisa. No matter how many times Dean assures him that he’s over her and he’s okay, Sam remains fussy and protective, like Dean is a fragile thing ready to crumble at any given moment. The truth of it is, he really is over her. Sure, the breakup wasn’t a picnic, but once he got some space from Lisa, it didn’t take long to come to the realization that they were never good for one another. Dean had simply been going through the motions, but his heart was never fully invested. He doesn’t miss her.
Dean can tell Sam a thousand times over that Lisa doesn’t matter to him anymore, but what he doesn’t know how to tell Sam is that he’s… well, he’s lonely. It’s not like he’s lonely in the way that he gets bored on a Saturday night and needs more friends. No, he’s lonely in the way that settles like an ache in his chest, like something is missing and hollow and desperate to be filled. He longs for the companionship and easy comfort that only comes with knowing someone so well that their presence is an effortless constant, a continuous source of warmth and assurance.
He doesn’t know how to tell Sam that instead of fantasizing about sleeping around, he’s been fantasizing about settling down in a three bedroom house with a porch and a big kitchen. He can’t tell him that he daydreams about waking up next to someone on a lazy Sunday morning and sipping coffee in bed with legs tangled together. Even more so, he can’t imagine trying to explain to Sam that those fantasies have come into clearer focus ever since he met some random, dark-haired guy on the beach and that now, when he closes his eyes and envisions the life he wants for himself, he imagines that the body laying next to him is tall and muscular, and that the man sharing his bed has a deep voice and eyes as blue as the ocean.
“Hey, Dean-o! This is Katie, and her very lovely friend here is Stacy. We’re going to go hit the bar up for another round, I think you should join us!” Dean is pulled abruptly from his thoughts by a petite arm slung around his shoulder. A wave of blonde hair falls in front of his face as the scent of flowery perfume momentarily disorients him. He takes a second to push the hair out of his face and come back to his senses, looking up to find Ash grinning like an idiot.
Dean is not feeling it at all. “Nah man, I’m good. I’m still working on this one.” He pointedly nods to his unfinished beer as he attempts to peel away the girl’s arm from around his neck. Drunk and clingy. No thanks.
Ash reaches across the table, picks up Dean’s beer and downs it with impressive speed. He slams it back down on the table with a.
“There. Now you need a new one. Let’s go.”
Stunned, but yet not surprised by Ash’s tactics, he looks to Sam for help. Sam, the little bitch, has a smirk on his face and has the audacity to say, “You kids go have fun, I’ll hold down the table.”
Dean glares at him, but then lets himself be led to the bar by a very excited, if somewhat wobbly, Stacy. As he’s following Ash, he sees in his peripheral Jo and Jess heading back towards Sam. Well, this night isn’t going as expected.
An hour later, Dean heads back over to the table where Jo is arm wrestling some guy and Sam looks to be half holding Jess up to make sure she doesn’t fall off her stool as she laughs at Jo’s trash talking. Jo wins and as she’s celebrating her victory, the guy passes Dean while headed back towards the bar, presumably to buy her the drink that she undoubtedly wagered. He’s about to make a snarky comment when Jo beats him to it.
“So! Where’s miss can’t-hold-her-liquor barbie? Did she have to get back to the sorority house?”
“Can it, G.I. Jo.”
“Wait. Did she actually reject Dean Winchester?! ‘Cuz I gotta be honest, I thought she was going to be a sure thing. Even though Jess and I did aaaaallllll that work for you and you just ran off with Ash the second we turned our backs and--”
Dean cuts her off.
“She was a sure thing, alright? But I wasn’t, apparently.” There’s a beat of silence as Jo takes in what he said. “Besides, you didn’t even find anyone for me, did you?” Jess snorts a laugh and nearly falls off the stool. Sam is there to catch her and he manages to look annoyed yet amused at the same time.
“We totally struck out. We found absolutely no one. Seriously. Not one guy for you, but Jo found lots of guys. They wanted to smoosh her face because she’s pretty.” Jess falls into another fit of laughter.
“Alright.” Sam interrupts. “I think it’s time I take this one home. She’s had enough for tonight. In fact, she had enough a few drinks ago.”
“I think you’ve had enough for tonight.” Jess boops Sam on the nose and Dean sees that Sam is trying hard not to laugh.
“And maybe I want to smoosh your face.” Sam leans in to lick the tip of her nose, and that’s when Dean realizes that Sam’s face is red and he’s definitely had more to drink than Dean realized.
“You alright there, Sammy? You need a ride home?”
“Yeah. That’s a good idea. I’ll call an Uber and then come back tomorrow to pick up my car.” It seems that Sam is also only just realizing the state he’s in.
“Don’t worry about it, I got you. I stopped drinking before Ash finished my beer. Hey Jo, you want a ride, too? Ash left with Katie and Stacy and I’m not leaving you here alone.”
“Are you trying to hit on me, Winchester? Is this your play? Take Sam and Jess home and then make your move? I see you.” Jo takes two fingers and points directly at Dean’s eyes with a look that’s supposed to be intimidating but only makes both Sam and Jess giggle again.
“Wow. You caught me. All these years I’ve looked at you like a little sister and suddenly tonight, I changed my mind.” Dean deadpans. “Now get your shit and let’s get to the car.”
The four of them laugh their way down the street. Sam and Jess crawl into the backseat and Jo settles in the passenger side. Dean makes threats about no one upchucking in his Baby, but the drive home is thankfully uneventful. He drops Jo off first and they say their goodnights. When he pulls away from Jo’s, he looks in the rearview mirror and can see that Jess has fallen asleep on Sam’s shoulder. She’s snoring slightly and looks completely unattractive with her mouth hanging open and her hair a mess, but Sam is as content as he can possibly be, so he chooses not to say anything and keeps his phone in his pocket despite the excellent opportunity for blackmail material. He smiles at Sam through the mirror and heads off down the road.
Aside from whatever noises Jess is making, the ride is silent for all of two minutes before Sam speaks up. “So. Did you really turn down that Stacy girl?”
Dean’s first instinct is to get defensive or make a snarky remark, but he realizes in time that Sam’s question seems honest enough. “Yeah. I just wasn’t feeling it. I don’t know. Changed my mind I guess.” He’s not lying. Stacy was beautiful and willing, more than willing, actually. She asked Dean to take her home more than once and was the one making all the moves, but Dean just couldn’t get himself to accept the offer. He absolutely thought about it, of course, but instead of excited, the prospect of spending the night with a stranger just left him feeling empty and unfulfilled. He would rather go home alone than deal with the emptiness he knew he’d ultimately face in the morning.
“Does this have anything to do with that guy you were talking to earlier? At the Roadhouse?”
Dean is caught so completely off guard that had he not been able to control the flinch that jerks his body to attention, he would have swerved his car right off the road.
He tries to play it cool. “What guy?”
Sam shrugs. “I saw you talking to a dude in a maroon blazer. He was carrying a shoulder bag. You seemed familiar with him, is all.” Dean doesn’t miss the way that Sam is being careful with his words here.
“Oh. That guy. Yeah. Uh, about that… I randomly met him a few weeks back while I had Zaz out at the dog beach. It was no big deal but, turns out he’s an editor for Coast Roast .”
“What?!” Sam lurches forward in his seat, nearly knocking Jessica off his shoulder. He sits back and readjusts her, lowering his voice. “Are you kidding me, Dean? You didn’t think to share that with the class?”
“I didn’t know until tonight, okay? Like I said, we briefly met at the dog beach when he thought he had lost his dog. It’s not like we shared our life stories. After we recognized each other and I found out about his day job, I figured it would be best not to spread the information until after he was gone - you know how Jo and Ellen can get. They didn’t need the extra pressure tonight.”
Sam seems to accept his explanation. “Yeah, that was probably good thinking. But Dean, you have to tell everyone tomorrow.”
“Of course I will. I already planned on bringing them coffee and bagels in the morning. I’ll tell them then.”
To his credit, Sam simply nods and doesn’t say anything more. They make the rest of the drive in silence.
*****
Dean makes it home exhausted, but content with the way the night played out and happy to know that everyone got home safely. It takes him no time at all to fall face first into his bed and let sleep consume him, but another vivid dream follows soon after.
He dreams that he wakes up on the floor of his living room. He looks up to see a figure with dark hair and a long coat standing in the kitchen, but it’s not his kitchen. He’s in someone else’s house. He can’t see a face, but the man wordlessly beckons him closer.
Just as before, Dean thinks he should be scared, but there is a calmness that settles over him that he can’t explain, so he approaches the man in the kitchen. When the stranger speaks, his voice is deep and commanding. Dean can’t quite grasp what exactly is being said, but Dean feels his pulse quicken. It all seems so ominous, and yet Dean feels safe, protected. The man’s presence is somehow familiar and calming. Dean doesn’t know why.
The man leaves as quickly as he showed up, but he doesn’t walk out the door - he just vanishes. Dean swears he hears the sound of wings.
Chapter Text
April rolls into May and Dean is busy. Crazy busy. Work is chaotic, Sam is a giant walking bundle of nerves and barely functioning as a human being while preparing to take the Bar Exam, and the Roadhouse is taking up every spare moment of Ellen and Bobby’s time. It feels like his family members have all become passing ships in the night and they hardly have time to see one another, let alone sit down and maintain functioning conversations that involve anything more than meaningless pleasantries.
Two days ago, however, Dean recruited Jess and Jo to help coordinate a family meeting of sorts. They made sure that everyone had at least fifteen minutes to meet at the Roadhouse early this morning - before the restaurant opens, before Dean has to be at work, and before Sam can drown himself in his textbooks. As planned, they are all gathered together and sitting at a table because today is a big day. Today, the Coast Roast review drops.
Dean might have done a little research to find out that the blog posts it’s content at about five in the morning. It’s just after six, which means Dean has spent nearly an hour forcing himself not to cheat and look at it before anyone else has the chance. They had all agreed to look at the article at the same time and his skin is buzzing with anticipation.
Ellen, always the one to try and play it cool, takes her time bringing out a tray of mugs and serving everyone fresh coffee while Bobby sits off to the side looking grumpy as always. They will never admit it out loud, but Dean knows they’re both just as nervous as the rest of them. Sam and Jess show up with a box full of pastries from a local bakery and now they’re just waiting on Jo to arrive. Dean is the first to let his impatience show.
“If she doesn’t roll her lazy ass in here in the next sixty seconds, I’m--”
As if on cue, Jo walks through the front doors and interrupts. “You’ll what, Winchester? Tell my mother on me? Because if you think--”
“Hey! You two knuckleheads knock it off and let’s get this thing over and done with already. I’ve got work to do,” Bobby gripes from his seat. Ellen comes back to the table from the kitchen to sit down next to him. Jess scoots a little closer to Sam, and Jo takes her own seat. Dean grabs his laptop and to try and lighten the nervous tension, he asks for a drumroll as he opens it up to the article. Jo, Sam, and Jess oblige by pounding on the table in front of them as Dean dramatically clears his throat to read aloud.
The article begins with a basic description of the restaurant - the location, the front entrance, the constructional and design layouts - the boring stuff. As Dean continues to read, however, his heart rate picks up a beat. He tries not to fidget and to maintain his composure as he reads on, Castiel’s words explaining that the atmosphere is lively and upbeat, yet homey, allowing one to feel relaxed in such a way that is rare within the modern dining industry. The room holds a collective breath as the article emphasizes that the meal selections promise a twist on original classics and successfully deliver our favorite comfort food with a flare of something unique. Through his grin, Dean nearly chokes on his next words and feels his face flush hot when he also reads that Cas suggests the audience try the Bacon Burger, I hear there’s nothing else like it.
The article continues to overflow with sophisticated praise and rounds out on a beautiful note about Ellen’s hometown hospitality and familial charm that would find itself well suited for the likes of a small-town southern eatery. When Dean reads the final line in which Castiel enthusiastically encourages the locals to embrace the Roadhouse as a new community treasure, silence falls on the room. Everyone waits for someone else to break it.
Finally, Ellen stands up from her chair, sniffles, wipes her hands on the front of her jeans like she doesn’t know what to do with them, and says; “Well, that was all very nice, but I think I’ve got to get to work now.”
“Nice?! Mama, that was INCREDIBLE! That article just put you on the map! It was pure gold!” Jo is out of her seat with excitement and throws her arms around Ellen, hugging her tightly.
“She’s right, Ellen” Jess chimes in, she and Sam also standing now. “You might want to consider a little extra staffing for the next few weekends to prepare yourselves.” Sam hugs Jess, clearly getting emotional himself, and then Jess trades places with Jo to give Ellen a hug as well. Before they know it, hugs are shared all around and the excitement is palpable. Even Bobby gets in on it, but just for a moment.
“Alright, alright. This has been fun and everything, but you all have jobs to get to and we’ve got a business to run. As nice as that review was, those words ain’t gonna jump off the page and start cooking the food or balancing the books, are they? Now get out of here, all of you.” Bobby starts picking up the empty coffee mugs and setting the chairs back in place.
“Well I think we should celebrate properly, what do you guys think?” Sam asks the room. Dean shoots Jess a look of shock and she smiles, raising her eyebrows and shrugging her shoulders, and Dean can read her unasked question - well are you going to argue with him? Because I’m not. Sam has been so buried in his law books lately that if he’s actually considering a moment away, no one would dare deny him.
“Oh yes! Family dinner! But NOT HERE” Jo commands with emphasis. “No one is going to be cooking and we are ordering pizza like a normal family.” She looks absolutely delighted.
“As long as there’s beer with that pizza, count me in,” Dean says.
They quickly plan their family dinner for Friday night, agreeing to get together early enough that Ellen and Bobby can enjoy the company while still being able to make it back to the Roadhouse before the dinner crowd really sets in.
Finally, one by one, they say their goodbyes and repeat their congratulations before heading out to face the rest of the day. Dean is the last to leave, but as he closes the door behind him, he looks back past the bar and sees Bobby pulling Ellen in for a more intimate embrace. Bobby kisses her on the forehead and Dean turns away to let them enjoy this moment together, slipping quietly out the front door and into the sunshine with a lightness in his heart that he hasn’t felt in a long while.
*****
A few days later, Dean finds himself at the end of the workweek. He’s exhausted, but the excitement over the Roadhouse’s phenomenal review has carried him through it with spirits high. He’s also been looking forward to their family dinner and on his way home from work, he stops at the grocery store to pick up a couple of six-packs. He’s standing in the aisle debating on the consequences of adding Smirnoff Ice and a handle of Jack Daniels to his cart when his internal argument is interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Hello, Dean.”
Dean looks up to find Cas, standing just a little too closely and encroaching upon his personal space. His first instinct is to take a step back and put some distance between them, but he finds that his feet stay firmly planted. Maybe he’s thrown off balance a little, too, because he even leans in towards Cas ever so slightly. Dean gets himself in check. Their eyes lock.
“Hey, Cas. This is a surprise,” Dean says, embarrassingly lacking eloquence.
“I don’t normally shop here.” Cas’s words spill out in an unnatural rush, as if they were over-rehearsed.
“No?”
“No.” There’s another few beats of silence before Cas seems to realize that he should probably elaborate. “I was on my way home from work when Charlie called and asked me to pick up some wine. This was the first store I saw after hanging up with her.”
Dean ignores the way his chest constricts when hearing about Charlie again, and the coinciding disappointment he feels is stupid and pointless. He knows the guy’s got a girlfriend, so why does it still feel shitty every time Cas mentions her?
“Well I’m glad you ended up here.” As soon as the words are out, the embarrassment squeezes tight around his shoulders . He looks down at his feet and brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, willing away the blush he feels pulse hot on his cheeks. Cas is silent and still, and Dean feels the weight of Cas’s gaze like a heavy blanket, holding him secure but unrestricted.
When Dean looks up, it’s to stare back into a set of earnest blue eyes. They are deep and unwavering, but through the intensity, Dean can only sense inexplicable softness.
A pang of nostalgia hits him out of nowhere and his stomach drops as he sucks in a breath. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling, but it’s like he wants without knowing what it is that he’s wanting. He misses Cas, but Cas has never been his or given him anything to miss. He hardly even knows the guy, for fuck’s sake. It all hits him like a tidal wave and he’s momentarily overwhelmed.
Dean takes a step back and refocuses. Cas looks away.
The feeling recedes almost as quickly as it comes and Dean finds his metaphorical footing again. Then he remembers; he swore to himself that if he ever saw Cas again, he’d thank him for the review he wrote on the Roadhouse.
Cas is still looking away from him when Dean speaks. “So we, uh… we read your review. It was pretty incredible and I guess my family owes you a pretty big thank you. What you said about the restaurant was… well, it was really special.”
It takes a moment for Cas to make eye contact again, but when he does, his response is soft and genuine. “Nobody owes me anything, Dean. I simply took my observations and opinions and typed them up for other people to read. I didn’t put in any of the hard work, or prepare the food, or invest the money. I just wrote some words about it.”
Dean can’t help but to laugh at the simplistic, straightforward response. “That may be so, but business has far exceeded Bobby and Ellen’s expectations, and I think your words might have had at least a little something to do with that.”
“Well, it makes me very happy to hear of their success and I sincerely hope it continues for as long as they want it. It’s very apparent that a lot of love was woven into the foundation of that restaurant and I find it incredibly rare when a business is built on compassion as opposed to a desire for pure profit.”
“Jeeze, Cas. Keep sweet talking like that and Ellen will come find you and smother you with all that hometown charm you seemed to love so much. She does that, and there will be no escape for you.”
Cas cracks a barely-there smile, but it’s enough to bring a softness to his features. “Is that supposed to be a threat? Because it certainly doesn’t sound like one.”
“Careful, you know not of what you speak. Ellen is never someone you want to underestimate.”
Unbidden, Dean’s mind flashes with an image of taking Cas home to officially meet his family as his… what? His boyfriend? Come on man, pull yourself together. Seriously, what is wrong with you? Dean notices that Cas is standing close again and they aren’t speaking. Dean needs to walk away before he does or says anything stupid.
“Anyway, Cas, it was good to see you and thanks again for the amazing review. I’ll let the family know that I was able to thank you in person, they’ll be happy to hear it.” As he speaks, he notices that Cas has a confused look on his face, and a slight tilt of the head makes it look like he’s thinking. Jesus, Dean needs to get the fuck out of here. He makes his move to turn around back to his cart and step away when Cas’s firm hand grabs him at the elbow to get his attention.
“Wait.”
Dean stops.
“Um. You have something on your face.” Dean’s hands shoot up to rub at his nose, his cheeks, and over his mouth, until finally Cas specifies, “By your ear. No. Other ear. Yeah. There.” Finally, Dean’s hand comes away with green paint smeared on his fingertips. “And forgive me, but is that glitter in your hair?”
Dean lets out an audible groan. “Shit, yeah. It’s paint - and glitter.”
“Dare I ask?” Cas has an inquisitive eyebrow raised now.
“Art project. Kind of. Not mine, but...” Get it together, man . “...I’m a teacher and my students were working on their final projects this week. I was helping some of them and I guess I may have gotten a little too enthusiastic. Thanks for the heads up, though. I’ve been walking around like this all damn day.” Dean continues to rub at his ear, hoping he’s getting all the paint off and not actually making it worse.
“What grade do you teach? With the paint and glitter, I’m guessing… kindergarten? Maybe first grade?” The question is sincere and Dean feels excitement behind his ribs at Cas’s interest.
“Uh, middle school, actually. English literature and history.”
Cas’s eyebrows pinch together and that ridiculously adorable head tilt is back. Dean understands his question before it’s even asked.
“You’re not the first one to give me that look. Listen, school is hard enough as it is, and some of these kids are already dealing with insane amounts of stress, which is stupid. In my classroom, I like to create an environment where they can express their creativity and hopefully have a little fun on occasion. So, yes, I encourage glitter usage. I don’t normally prefer it in my hair, but it’s a hazard of the job.”
“That’s…” Dean holds his breath and waits for the inevitable judgement. Some people are surprisingly opinionated about allowing kids to be kids, but he was kind of hoping Cas wasn’t going to be one of them. “... extremely admirable.”
Oh.
“I don’t have kids, but if I did, I think I would want someone like you as their teacher.”
Cas is looking at him with a closed-mouth smile that somehow makes his eyes even brighter, and Dean doesn’t know what to say. Cas’s words feel like more than a compliment and his face is awash with something akin to adoration, but Dean knows that can’t be entirely right. He forces himself to respond.
“Well, thanks. School wasn’t exactly easy for me. In fact, I mostly hated it. I just try to remember what that was like and do what I can to make sure my students don’t feel the same. If that means some paint mishaps, then I’ll take it.”
Even as he says the words, Dean can feel a heat rise up through his body. It begins at his legs and works it’s way up through his torso until he can feel it burn hot on his paint-covered ears.
Cas is still looking at him with a fondness that Dean isn’t used to and he needs to get out from under Cas’s scrutiny.
“Dean?” Cas speaks up before he can make his move. “Um, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to grab a beer with me. If you aren’t busy, of course. Charlie doesn’t need the wine for at least another hour or so and there’s this brewery we visited a few weeks ago that I’ve been wanting to --”
“I can’t.” Before he can pull them back, the words fly out of his mouth much more harshly than he intended, but Cas can’t do this to him.
Cas can’t just casually ask him for a beer while Dean’s practically having a meltdown. He can’t ask for Dean’s company while mentioning his girlfriend in the same damn sentence. Maybe if they were friends first, but they aren’t, not really. If that’s what Cas is trying to do - to be friends - then fine, but Dean isn’t even sure he can do that.
Fuck. That’s exactly what Cas is trying to do, isn’t it? Just make a goddamn friend. He just moved here and probably doesn’t have many. Dammit. Now he feels like an ass and he needs to dislodge his foot from his mouth, and quick.
“I just mean that I’m headed to a family thing, so uh, thanks for the invite, but I can’t. It’s the first time we’re all going to have a chance to be together in a long time and--”
“No, no. I understand. Of course. My apologies. I just thought that if you weren’t busy… but clearly you are. Sorry. I’ll just get going then.” Cas takes a step away looking so disheartened that it tugs at something deep within Dean’s chest.
“Cas, wait.” They both freeze, Cas seemingly holding his breath and Dean not sure where his words are coming from. “Why don’t you take my number? That way, we can try for that beer some other time.”
Cas’s eyes search his, looking for honesty behind his words. Cas must find what he’s looking for because after a beat, he agrees.
“Yes, okay. I’d like that..” Cas finally breathes out and Dean feels a weight lifted at the change in his demeanor. He still looks a little stunned, but Dean will absolutely take that over seeing disappointment and hurt in Cas’s eyes. One look at his face like that and Dean knows with all the certainty in the world that it’s a face he never wants to see again.
They exchange numbers and after a few additional minutes of pleasant conversation, the two of them finally part ways. Dean grabs that handle of Jack without another thought and heads for the checkout line. Cas continues down the aisle in the opposite direction to pick out some wine for his girlfriend.
Before turning the corner, Dean lifts his head to throw a final glance down the aisle. He catches Cas looking back at him and their eyes meet. Dean smiles and walks away with his heart in his throat.
Dean eventually makes his way over to Ellen and Bobby’s place and enjoys an evening of pizza, beer, games, and laughter so rich that it makes his gut hurt. Ellen and Bobby head out early to get to the restaurant, but everyone else sticks around for several more hours.
Sam, Jess, Jo, and Dean all lose themselves in each other’s company. Before long, the bottle of Jack is unveiled and passed around as time escapes them. It’s one of the best nights Dean’s had in awhile, the kind of night that leaves him feeling full, loved, and happy. It’s also probably the last night that Sam will allow himself to relax and enjoy the company of others for quite some time - his BAR Exam is in early July and it’s not likely that he’ll come up for air again before then. Dean’s missed his brother over the past few months as his studying has taken over his life, but he’s proud of Sam in a way that makes his chest swell and his eyes prickle.
When the night eventually winds down, Dean is still too drunk to drive home. Jo crashes in one of the spare bedrooms and Dean is about to do the same, but he honestly just wants to sleep in his own bed tonight. It’s been a long week and he’s desperate for a hot shower, to sleep naked, and to enjoy the simple thrill of turning off all his alarms. Luckily, Jess stopped drinking awhile ago and didn’t hit the hard stuff (probably still too squeamish from her hangover from hell last month), so she offers to drop him off on the way to her and Sam’s place.
He gladly accepts.
*****
Showered, naked, warm, a little drunk and a lot happy, Dean passes out quickly.
As if on cue, he’s accompanied by yet another dream.
He appears to be standing in an abandoned home as a hurricane-like storm whirls and thunders around him. The room he’s in is unfamiliar and he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The walls shake and the windows rattle and, save for an occasional flash of lightning, the world is shrouded in darkness. He hears shouting, but he cannot make out the words. Suddenly, as if by magic, a ring of fire appears on the floor in front of him and a figure stands inside of it - powerful, menacing, and fearsome.
A palpable furry swells within the room like a balloon about to burst, and the next clap of thunder shatters the windows with terrifying ferocity. Confusion adds to the chaos when glass rains down in angry shards and yet, somehow, Dean isn’t hit. He’s shielded .
Just outside of his view, he senses another’s presence and his world grows inexplicably calm as the storm continues to rage around him. Without seeing him, Dean is aware that the dark haired man in the long coat - the one he’s seen before in dreams past - is there with him, and Dean innately knows that he is safe.
The wind screams and the rain bites sharp at his face, yet a faint warmth wraps around his shoulders, feeling like a blanket where there is none. It seems to be coming from the man next to him. Dean can’t explain it, but the force encircles and shelters him. He should be afraid. He should be running for cover or preparing to fight, but instead, he faces the furious, fiery power before him with tranquil assuredness. He is protected.
Unable to fight the urge any longer, Dean tries with everything he has to bring the man in the coat into clearer focus. He wants to see the man standing by his side, wants to know his face. The harder he tries, the quieter his dream gets until the storm plays like a soft soundtrack in the background.
Dean turns to look at the man and he takes in the wild, dark hair, the strong jaw, and the ocean blue eyes…
Cas?
Chapter Text
It’s been a hell of a two months and Dean just barely feels like he’s coming up for air. Between the school year ending, teaching a class for summer school, beginning his lesson plans for next year, and helping Ellen and Bobby as much as possible at the restaurant, he feels like he’s been running around non-stop for weeks on end.
On top of all of that, he’s also spent the better part of the last six weeks helping take care of Sam. Not that Sam specifically needed looking after per se, but he’d been an absolute mess of stress and anxiety all throughout June and right up until he took his Bar Exam about a week ago.
Unsurprisingly, Sam worked himself ragged, so Jess and Dean took it upon themselves to make sure that he had everything he needed so he could devote all his efforts to studying without the added worry of day to day responsibilities. Sam had joined one of those Bar Exam review courses, was part of two separate study groups, and also studied on his own; meanwhile, Jess took on extra nursing shifts at the hospital to help sustain their income. Jess handled as much as she could (and probably more than even the most devoted girlfriends would), but a couple of times a week, Dean would show up at their house to make dinner, help pick up, and even take Zazu out for a walk - whatever they needed, Dean was willing to help.
Occasionally, he would show up just to stick a couple of sandwiches in their fridge and make sure Sam remembered to eat. This exam was something Sam had been working towards for years, so the least Dean could do was a couple of extra chores. Once, when things were getting really bad and Sam was overdoing it, Dean hid Sam’s books, laptop, and study materials while Sam was in the bathroom and said he couldn’t have them back until after he took Jess out to dinner and got some fresh air. Sam threatened Dean’s violent death, of course, but it was worth it when Dean woke up the next morning to two separate but equally heartfelt thank-you texts.
Even though Sam won’t hear back on the results for a least another two months, there has been a collective sigh of relief amongst their entire family. After sleeping for about forty-eight hours straight immediately after the exam, Sam has finally been able to unclench (Dean even saw him actually smile the other day), and although Dean won’t admit it out loud, he’s grateful to have his little brother back.
This is probably the reason why Dean is in such a great mood as he climbs out of his shower, a towel wrapped around his slim waist, and goes straight for the portable speaker he’s got set up in his living room. Turning it on, he connects it to the bluetooth on his phone and cranks up the volume as he heads back to his bathroom to get ready. As a show of appreciation for everything Dean did for them, Jess and Sam are taking him to an Angel’s game tonight. Dean loves baseball and hasn’t had a chance to get to a game yet this year, which, if you ask him, is totally unacceptable.
With Angel Stadium so close, he and Sam grew up going to games together, and even in adulthood, they’ve always made it a point to attend several a season, usually in the summer when Sam could come home from school and Dean could more easily make the time.
The games used to be reserved for brotherly bonding time, something they did together that was just theirs, but when Jess came into the picture, they had to make room for one more. He grumped about it at first, not wanting Sam’s new girlfriend to intrude on tradition, but after a brief display of petty immaturity and several eyrolls from Sam, Dean learned in record time that not only was Jess fun to be around, but her competitiveness also rivaled that of Dean’s, making everything that much more interesting. Her extensive knowledge of the sport and her enthusiastic loyalty to the team put Dean in his place before the second inning of their first game together even started. Now, games are something they often all enjoy together, although Sam makes it a point each year to set up at least one game with just the two of them, like old times.
Dean fixes his hair and finds his favorite Angels shirt - a fitted, well-loved, gray baseball tee with red sleeves and the Angel’s “A” across the front. He slips into a pair of comfortable jeans that sit low on his hips and if he happens to be rocking out to Taylor Swift the entire time, no one needs to know about it. He’s mid-performance and enthusiastically singing “ME!” into a longneck beer bottle when Jess knocks at his front door, interrupting his living room encore, Sam waiting out in front of the apartment complex with the car.
The three of them make their way to the stadium, parking in one of the smaller lots close by where it’s far less expensive and not quite as congested. Before heading into the stadium, they stop at the brewery across the street from the entrance and take their time enjoying a few beers. If they can help it, they like to show up early and either start drinking, or just lazily walk around the stadium enjoying the evening - usually both.
It’s an hour before first pitch that they make their way back across the street and towards the front entrance where they’re greeted by giant bat-shaped pillars and players’ portraits displayed overhead, making everything seem larger than life. The open space in front of the entrance gates is already bustling with activity, friends finding one another and families gathering together, many taking pictures in front of the entrance or scrambling to will-call to get their tickets. Dean takes it all in, including the smiles on Jess and Sam’s faces.
Dean has always loved baseball. He thinks it’s probably because it’s one of the fonder memories he associates with his father - a father who left him and Sam when they were both still so young because he wrapped his car around a tree after a night of drinking, but that particularly memory doesn’t belong here in his happy place.
He still remembers the first game his dad ever took him to. It was at Dodger Stadium and the Dodgers were playing against the Angels, Dean must have been about seven years old. John Winchester didn’t exactly pledge loyalty to any particular team, but Dean remembers cheering for the Angels, most likely because he and Sam had recently watched Angels In The Outfield and, thinking back, he secretly hoped that if he’d looked hard enough, he’d be able to see one of them - an Angel. Dean’s mother passed away just after Sam was born, and John had always told them that their mother was an angel watching over them from Heaven, so at the time, it all made sense to him. Besides, he kinda always liked an underdog team, and at Dodger Stadium, any visiting team felt like the underdog.
Dean breathes deep. The air smells like freshly cut grass and beer with a hint of leather and sweat. It’s exactly what summertime at the ballfield should smell like, and in the heat of the afternoon sun, it’s perfect. Sam has their tickets on his phone, so they make their way through security, heading into the stadium and immediately towards the beer garden situated behind the outfield. They take their time discussing what they may want to eat later and dodging the kids running every which way. Jess stops to get herself a margarita at a small cocktail stand, preferring something strong and cold before she sticks with water as their DD for the night.
Beers and drinks in hand, they decide to sit at one of the tables in the beer garden overlooking centerfield. The players are still out warming up and they watch as the stadium slowly begins to fill. It's a particularly warm day and the cold beer is refreshing as it runs down Dean’s throat. He’s really fucking missed this, and right now, it finally feels like his life has slowed down enough to let him enjoy it for a moment. He watches as Jess tosses her hair back and laughs at something Sam said, and Sam’s giant, goofy smile radiates across his face. It’s good to see them both finally relax, too.
Jess interrupts his thoughts when she asks where their seats are located and Sam points them out - they’re on the opposite side and almost centered directly behind home plate. The perfect seats, if you ask Dean. They’re high up enough to be able to see the whole field, but low enough that the players don’t look like specs on a canvas.
Their conversation continues and before they know it, the field is cleared, the stadium is nearly full, and they’ll be singing the National Anthem soon enough, so Sam and Dean grab one more beer and the three of them head to their seats to settle in. The Angels are playing the Royals and it’s set to be a good game. The air is thick with the heavy heat of summer, but the crowd is lively and buzzing with the anticipation of the first pitch.
They’re seated near the end of their row and Sam and Jess are on his right. Sam is in the middle and he likes to say it’s because he wants to spend equal time with his two favorite people, but Dean knows the truth; it’s because Jess and Dean’s discussions tend to get a little... animated , and more often than not, Sam has to be a buffer between them, both as a verbal referee and once (maybe twice), a human shield.
Among other things, Dean absolutely loves people-watching at games, it’s hard not to. To his left is an older couple, each ready with their own scorebooks and he knows immediately that the two are seasoned fans. Behind him is a rowdy group of college students, but so far, they’re harmless and kinda funny. Directly in front of him is a father and young son, maybe about seven years old. Dean quietly watches as the father helps the son balance his hot dog and drink. Once settled, the father pulls out a bag of peanuts and casually reviews the lineup, telling his son each player’s jersey number and position on the field, patiently answering his son’s questions as they come up.
Dean swallows against the unexpected sense of longing building behind his chest. It’s a new sensation and he doesn’t like it, it makes him feel unsettled. It makes him feel like something is missing from his otherwise wonderful life, which is, in fact, a pretty fucking great life. He’s got nothing to complain about, so why has he caught himself wanting more lately? Dean adamantly pushes the thought aside. Now is not the time. Now is time for baseball.
The National Anthem plays, the players take the field, and the game is underway. It’s an uneventful and scoreless first two innings, but they’re spent in light conversation. Between pitches, Sam discusses how nice it is to finally not have the Bar Exam hanging over his head but expresses how anxious he is to hear the results. He thinks he did well, but he really can’t feel confident one way or another. Jess talks about her job at the hospital and shares a few funny anecdotes about some of the more eclectic patients she’s seen lately. And Dean discusses his plans for the rest of the summer now that school is out and he has several weeks before he’s due back. He usually road trips somewhere, either by himself or with Sam, but he’s been so caught up in everything else lately that he hasn’t planned one yet, and may just have to pass altogether this year.
It’s the bottom of the third and the current play is under review, a questionable call at home plate against the Angels. A decision in the Angels’ favor would put them ahead by two runs and as the umpires deliberate, Dean’s attention is caught by a young couple one section over taking a picture in front of the railing, the background of the photo overlooking the field. It’s a good shot, Dean thinks, and then he watches as the young man squeezes the girl around her waist and she giggles in excitement, throwing her arms around the boy’s neck and they kiss as he lifts her off the ground. The person taking the photo snaps a few more shots and it’s bound to be a great candid pic, probably frame worthy. His thoughts betray him as he wishes on an exhale that he had a girlfriend to bring to a game… or a boyfriend… whatever.
With some effort and for the sake of his otherwise upbeat and contented mood, he tears his eyes away from the couple and continues to scan the nearby crowd, mindlessly taking in his surroundings. There’s a group of pre-teen girls all looking at their phones and laughing hysterically, another young couple sharing a churro and whispered words, and another family with a couple of kids, the mother handing out snack bags of fruit and goldfish crackers. To his immediate left and in the same row, but at the opposite end of the section over, he sees a guy with a head of dark, messy hair. Dean begins to berate himself for being so hopelessly pathetic when it makes him think of Castiel. Then he does a double-take and… no fucking way.
It is Castiel.
He’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees while staring out towards the field in concentration. If Dean had to guess, he would guess that Cas is focused on the jumbotron positioned high above right field, which is probably cycling through the same slow motion replay from every different angle available. Dean doesn't know for sure, of course, because he’s not paying attention to the jumbotron, or to the players on the field, or even to Sam tapping him on the shoulder and trying to get his attention. Instead, he can’t take his eyes off of Cas.
Dean waits a few moments to observe Cas’s immediate surroundings. There’s an empty seat to his right and he doesn’t appear to know anyone else seated near him - it looks like he’s alone, at least for the moment.
Without a second thought, he gets up and tells Sam that he’ll be right back. He doesn’t wait for Sam to reply before he’s out of his seat and heading up the stairs.
Since the seats are crowded, Dean exits his row and climbs his way to the top of his section. He walks the short distance to the opposite side of the section next to his and makes his way back down another set of steps. The row immediately behind Cas’s has a few vacated seats which makes it easier for him to navigate, so he maneuvers his way towards Cas from the row behind, throwing his leg over the empty seat next to Cas when he gets there.
As he makes the move to hop down into Cas’s row, the stadium erupts into cheers and everyone is on their feet, including Cas. Dean looks up and sees that the umpire upheld the original call, which means that the Angels have taken the lead, the fans pleased and reenergized.
The cheers fade into an excited hum and just as Cas is about to sit back down, he glances over at the stranger suddenly taking up space next to him, and Dean waits patiently for Cas to catch his eye. When the recognition hits, Dean’s mouth splits into a wicked, flirtatious grin, a little too proud of himself for the smooth move.
“Hiya Cas,” Dean says as he settles easily behind the bravado of the false confidence he’s learned to perfect over the years.
“Dean?!” Cas’s eyes flair wide just before a hesitant but bewildered smile sneaks its way across his face. For a split second, Dean swears Cas is going to lunge forward for a hug, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, the two are left standing there, eyes locked, staring. They’re facing each other and, for Dean, time freezes while the world around them fades away.
Someone clears their throat from a few rows behind and it snaps them both back to attention. Cas looks around him and then down at his seat, almost as if he’s forgotten where he is for the moment. When he glances back up at Dean, Dean asks, “mind if I take a seat? I won’t stay if it’s a problem.”
“Yes,” Cas responds without hesitation. “I mean no, you can sit. I mean…” he lets out a frustrated huff of an exhale. “Please, sit.”
Dean accepts the offer and they both sit down, much to the appreciation of those behind them, though nothing is said out loud. A new batter is up at the plate, but Cas is looking down and fidgeting with his hands in his lap, and suddenly Dean worries that maybe walking over here was too presumptuous. They aren’t exactly friends, after all. And whose damn fault is that?
The truth is, Cas’s phone number has been burning a hole in his back pocket since the day he walked out of that grocery store. Dean wanted to call, and he almost did about a thousand different times. Ridiculously, it was all he could think about for days. In his mind, he played out nearly every single scenario he could think of for how that initial call or text might go; he imagined everything from Cas not even remembering him, to a text that lead to a sext that lead to a night in the sack. Neither option was at all probable, of course, but he got so caught up in the “what if’s” that he had basically talked himself right out of contacting Cas at all. After that, his life got so busy that he didn’t give himself time to second guess it.
If Dean was totally honest with himself, he’d also admit that part of him was scared to try and be just friends with Cas. Maybe it was kind of a dick move and it was definitely a selfish one, but Dean has felt drawn to Cas in a way that kinda frightens him, or confuses him at the very least. He hasn’t been able to shake that inexplicable longing that churns in the pit of his stomach whenever he thinks too long about Cas, nor can he stop seeing the obscenely blue eyes that flash across his memory unbidden whenever his thoughts go blank and uninvited daydreams sneak in, so flirting with the idea of being just friends feels like a dangerous game.
He understands that Cas is not available, and if there’s one thing Dean absolutely is not, it’s a homewrecker. Dean Winchester does not get involved with people who are involved. Simple as that. He has never been and never wants to be that guy, but Cas… something about Cas makes him want to throw away all the rules of basic human decency if it meant he could get closer to him.
The truth of it is that Cas makes Dean feel selfish and greedy and full of want and hope and need. If he were to indulge in his own desires even slightly, he’s fairly certain at this point that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. The point is, he doesn’t trust himself to just be friends with Cas, and it’s not like that’s something he could come right out and confess, so as hurtful as it may be, staying away was probably the best thing.
Besides, if Dean had called Cas just to stop the friendship before it even began, that door would have been slammed shut for good, and Dean didn’t want to do that either. There was just no good option, so ignoring it altogether seemed reasonable at the time.
Now here he is, with Cas right in front of him (looking gorgeous as ever, just to make things worse), and fuck. Dean did not think this through.
“I’m sorry I never called you,” he blurts out without preamble, not meaning to be so blunt. He bites the side of his tongue waiting for the response.
Cas just looks at him and tilts his head slightly to one side, so he doesn’t have much choice but to elaborate. “I meant to, I honestly did. Hell, I probably picked up my phone a hundred times to at least text you.” Dean hates himself for the flush he feels sweeping across his cheeks.
“Then why didn’t you?” The words are spoken without malice and the tilt of Cas’s head gets deeper with curiosity.
“Fair question. I was crazy busy and also kept getting nervous and chickening out like a teenage girl - mostly that last part, though.” Cas just looks at him like he’s trying to piece the information together. “Look man, the longer I waited, the more awkward I felt and then it just got to the point that it had been too long since I saw you, which made it even more awkward, so yeah. I definitely didn’t end up calling after that, obviously.”
Cas keeps looking at him and Dean doesn’t know if he’s confused or just sizing up Dean’s excuses. The silence from Cas is getting uncomfortable and he squirms from the scrutiny he’s under. “I really am sorry. Not calling or texting was a dick move.”
“It’s alright,” Cas finally responds. He seems to have accepted Dean’s lame rambling and he sounds disappointed but not angry. “I know very little about you, but I do know that you are an incredibly busy man. It was a bit selfish of me to try to take up your time.”
Now it’s Dean’s turn to lose his words and gawk. Cas is the absolute least selfish factor in this entire scenario.
Cas continues. “I was just hoping that since we kept showing up in the same places together and I enjoy talking to you, we could try to get to know one another a little better.” He shrugs his shoulders slightly and looks back out at the game.
It’s silent for a beat too long again and Dean decides to ask the question he hadn’t really thought about until now.
“You could have called me, too, ya know. How come you didn’t?”
“To be honest, after we left each other at the grocery store, I kind of felt like you took my number out of pity. I didn’t want to push it.”
“I didn’t take your number out of pity, Cas. I can promise you that. Let me make it up to you. How about drinks tomorrow?” Dean regrets the question the moment it leaves his lips, and yet his heart is beating hard behind his ribs in hopeful anticipation of the answer.
“Really?” Cas turns back to look at him then, genuine surprise on his face.
“Absolutely. I’ll think of a place to go and text you the address. That cool with you?” His mouth keeps betraying his brain and he can’t stop himself. He’s not sure he wants to. This feels right.
“I’d like that very much.” Cas’s smile lights up his face and Dean knows right then that he made the right call coming over and talking to him.
“Awesome. Ok then, I better get back to my seat, I don’t want to interrupt your date night. I’ll text you this time, I promise.” Dean stands but Cas stops him with a squeeze to his forearm, quickly retracting his hand when Dean looks back down at him in question.
“What um… what do you mean my date night?”
Dean sits back down in the seat, not wanting to irritate the people behind him. “Oh, I just assumed you were here with Charlie.”
“Charlie?” There’s a pause and Dean’s beginning to feel about as confused as Cas looks. “Dean, why do you think I’d be having a date night with Charlie?”
“She’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?”
“My what?!” Cas looks something close to mortified. “I mean, she was supposed to be here but she had to cancel at the last minute. You’re actually sitting in her seat, but even if she were here, it wouldn’t be a date. Charlie isn’t my girlfriend.”
“Wait. She’s not?” Dean doesn’t understand what’s happening here.
“No. Ohmygod, no. Not even a little bit. Charlie couldn’t make it to the game tonight because her girlfriend got sick and she stayed home to take care of her. Have you… have you thought I was dating Charlie this whole time?”
“Ummm, yeah?” Dean isn’t sure what’s going on, but he knows that he can feel his heartbeat in his throat and the stadium suddenly feels much warmer than it did a moment ago. “You mentioned her that day at the dog beach and I actually thought you were married, but I didn’t see a ring, so I just assumed…”
“Charlie is just a friend. We’re neighbors, actually. It’s why I was taking care of her dog that day.”
Dean’s mind races as he struggles to make sense of this information, realization slowly dawning on him as the pieces fit together. Has he been reading this situation wrong the whole time? What is Cas saying?
He has to know and he can’t tiptoe around it any longer.
“So if Charlie isn’t your girlfriend, did you ask me for a drink because you just wanted to hang out or…” Suddenly, Dean doesn’t have the courage to finish that sentence and it’s left hanging in the air between them as his throat goes dry.
“Oh wow. This is embarrassing.” Cas is now concentrating his gaze towards the outfield, even though the field is clear of players as the game rolls into the next inning. He’s steadfastly not looking at Dean and Dean is still unsure about what exactly is happening. Cas lets out a deep sigh. “To be clear, I was asking you out. Like on a date. I’m so sorry. It seems that we’ve both completely--”
“Yes.” Dean cuts him off and Cas jerks his head back towards him with a questioning look. “Yes. I’d like to go on a date with you.”
“You would?” Cas appears as bewildered as Dean feels.
“Yes, I really would. I’m the one who’s completely misread this, Cas. I’m an idiot, but please don’t hold that against me.” Dean looks down at his lap and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. When he musters up the courage to raise his eyes again, Cas is beaming.
“I may be able to look past it,” he says with a smirk.
Dean’s immediate instinct is to say something sarcastic in response, but he can’t bring himself to do anything other than smile so hard that his cheeks ache. He can’t believe his luck. Cas has been interested in him this entire time? He’s pulsating with excitement when a vibration in his pocket can be felt over the butterflies in his stomach.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone to see a text from Sam.
SAM : If you haven’t left the line yet, bring me a beer.
SAM : Jess wants a water.
Dean rolls his eyes at his phone when Cas gently clears his throat and shifts in his seat.
“Do you need to get going?” he asks with an air of caution, the hint of disappointment behind the question giving Dean courage.
“It’s just my little brother. I’m here third-wheeling it with him and his girlfriend. But, hey, if Charlie had to bail on you, does that mean you’re here alone?” He tries his best not to sound as hopeful as he really is.
“Yes. I couldn’t get anyone to take her place last minute, not that I know too many people that I could ask.”
“Well uh… you want some company?”
Cas’s eyes flash with an eager joy before he quickly looks away, steeling the emotion on his face.
“No, no. You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine. I don’t want to take you away from your family.”
“You kiddin’ me? You’d be doing me a favor. Those two annoying lovebirds have been making heart eyes at each other all night. I could use a break.”
“Oh, well in that case…” Cas’s smile is shining and Dean isn’t sure he’d be able to walk away from it right now if he tried.
He shoots a quick text to Sam to let him know he found a friend and wouldn’t be going back to his seat immediately. Sam rapid fires a few questions back at him, but Dean promptly puts his phone in his pocket and doesn’t take it out again until the game is over.
He spends the rest of the evening lost in conversation with Cas. They watch the game, of course, and cheer along with the crowd, standing and yelling enthusiastically when the Angels make an incredible double-play, and again when Mike Trout hits a home run deep into left field in the seventh inning.
Between the plays, they take the time to get to know each other. Cas talks about his career and tells Dean a little more about Charlie. Apparently, she was his first friend when he moved to California and they became close instantly. She’s some kind of computer genius that works for Elon Musk and Tesla and after what he hears about her, Dean isn’t sure if he’s more in awe or more terrified of her.
Dean tells Cas more about his family and all about how Sam finally took the Bar Exam. They discuss Dean’s teaching career as well and the conversation is light and casual. Now that the confusion between them is gone, it’s almost like they can breathe easier around each other. They laugh and joke and share small smiles and subtle shoulder nudges. Dean finds that he doesn’t want the game to end.
It’s the top of the eighth inning when the crowd erupts in protest to another call against the Angels. Dean is on his feet and shouting with rest of the fans when he glances over to Cas, who’s also standing, but looking confused, his brow furrowed. Dean leans in to explain. “The ump called a balk, but that’s bullshit, it was a fair pitch.”
“A what?”
“A balk.” Cas’s face pinches in further confusion, so Dean elaborates. “A balk is when the pitcher tries to deceive the batter or the base runners on the other team. Once he’s in the set position, he’s not allowed to move his shoulders without first disengaging from the set position. The ump called a balk because he’s saying that the pitcher turned towards first base while in the set position.”
“Oh. Ok. I think I understand.” It definitely doesn’t look like he understands.
“Balks are hard to describe, but if you want, I can find a replay of this call later and try and explain it better.”
Cas looks up at him, shy and surprised. “You would do that for me?”
“Of course. Why not?”
“It’s just that, well… Mick never… I mean, no one has ever taken the time before and…” Cas sounds nervous and Dean definitely wants to know this story, because of course he caught that other man’s name.
He knows he probably shouldn’t pry. He really shouldn’t. It’s too soon, but he’s Dean and he can’t help himself.
“Who’s Mick?” Smooth. Real smooth.
“Oh. So you did catch that. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to mention him. He’s my ex.”
From there, Dean learns a little about Cas’s last relationship. The two were together for two years in Chicago before things went downhill and Mick moved back to England, leaving Cas behind without much warning. Mick actually sounds like a pretty cool guy, but a shitty boyfriend (and Dean tells Cas as much). Mick loved baseball and would occasionally drag Cas to a Cubs game when one of Mick’s friends couldn’t make it at the last minute. Cas had never watched baseball or had an interest in it, but it was at those Cubs games where he learned to enjoy the sport and the atmosphere of a ballpark. Mick, however, had no patience in answering questions or trying to explain the finer details of the game, so Cas, it seems, learned to keep his mouth shut and just watch. Cas also mentions that it’s because of Mick that he is most definitely not a Cubs fan and that this is the first baseball game he’s attended since their breakup earlier this year.
Dean assures Cas that one of the best parts of a game is going with a friend or a partner and discussing the game as it happens, arguing plays, cheering on the team, chatting strategy, and complaining about bad calls. Cas blushes as Dean also tells him to ask any question he wants at any time and he’ll gladly answer. It’s the shy smile that he gets in return that has Dean’s heart swelling and him realizing that he means it - he’d sit for hours and answer even the most mundane questions as long as it meant he got to just be near Cas.
After their conversation about Mick, Dean excuses himself because he has something he needs to do. Cas looks panicked for a moment, so Dean leans down, lays a reassuring hand on Cas’s shoulder and says, “I’ll be back, give me ten minutes”.
It’s closer to twenty minutes later when Dean squeezes his way back to Charlie’s seat, a contagious grin across his face. Cas looks relieved.
“Everything ok?” Cas asks him.
“Absolutely. I just thought it was a shame that here you are, at your first Angels game and you don’t have any team merch. So here - I got you something.” Dean takes the baseball cap that he just purchased and hands it over to Cas.
Cas’s eyes go wide. “This is for me?”
“Well I wasn’t just showing it to you for fun. Look, you’re not a Cubs fan and I’m happy about that, but now that you’re a SoCal local, and I absolutely refuse to let you entertain the idea of being a Dodgers fan, it’s only logical that the Angels are your team now.”
He takes the hat back from Cas and places it firmly on his head and, yeah. Cas looks basically perfect in it. It’s navy blue with a bright red “A” above the bill, a little yellow halo hanging off the logo. The colors bring out Cas’s eyes and Dean tries his best not to stare. He squirms a little and adjusts himself in his seat, surprised at just how affected he is just by seeing Cas in the hat he bought for him coupled with the smile that lights him up from the inside out.
“Thank you, Dean. This is… that was incredibly thoughtful. I uh… I never even had Cubs gear, so this is... this is... nice. Thank you.” He stares at Dean a moment and seems to get lost in thought. Then, shaking his head as if to refocus himself, he adjusts the hat slightly, sits up a little straighter and asks, “Does it look okay?”
“It looks great, Cas. Really great. My little Angel.”
It takes a moment for Dean to realize what he just said and he immediately tries to correct himself. “...fan!” he coughs out. “My little Angel fan , because of the hat and, you know, the team name and… and yeah.” He feels his face burning up and he knows he’s got a furious blush to accompany the embarrassment. Shit - and things were going so well.
Cas laughs. It’s a wholehearted laugh that comes from deep in his chest and makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. The laugh is genuine and contagious and has Dean laughing in return. “Your little Angel, huh? I’ll take it.”
All too quickly, the game comes to an end and the crowd is on their feet celebrating their hometown win. Dean checks his phone and sees several texts from Sam. Apparently, Sam and Jess found him in the crowd and have been watching them from their seats.
SAM : Who are you with?
SAM : omg. Is that Casteel?!?!? The reviewer guy? Ask him how to spell his name.
SAM : Are you staying with him the whole game?
SAM : Deeaaaaaan. Answer me.
SAM : Dude. The entire stadium can see you flirting right now. You know that, right?
SAM : You aren’t even checking your phone are you?
SAM : jerk
JESS : You look so cute. Ignore Sam. He’s drunk. GO GET EM, TIGER!
The last message was sent just a minute ago.
SAM : Dean! If you keep ignoring me, we’re leaving your ass here. Jess has the keys.
Dean is about to text back when the announcer comes on, reminding everyone that there will be a fireworks display happening in about fifteen minutes. He looks over at Cas, “Do you need to get home, or are you staying for the fireworks show?”
“Definitely fireworks.”
Dean grins. “Hell yeah.”
He texts Sam back before Sam has an aneurysm.
DEAN : First of all, I hate you. Fuck off.
DEAN : Second of all, fireworks, dude. I’ll see you after.
They settle back in their seats for the fireworks show and a chill runs down Dean’s spine when they shut the stadium lights off. He turns to look at Cas, whose face is painted with childlike wonder as soon as the first firework pops off and the accompanying music builds in time with lights.
Dean has the strong urge to watch Cas’s face instead of the sky in front of him, but he knows that would be weird and probably a bit creepy, so he refrains. He is, however, feeling a swell of courage at the moment and before he has a chance to second guess or talk himself out of it, he slowly finds Cas’s hand and gently intertwines their fingers together. He holds his breath, waiting to see if Cas rejects the motion, but he doesn’t.
As their hands slide hesitantly together, Dean sees Cas turn to him out of the corner of his eye, so he steals a quick glance over as well. Their eyes meet, Cas smiles, and Dean closes his fingers with a warm grip.
They turn back towards the lights and fire dancing in the sky as Cas leans his shoulder against Dean’s, and that’s how they spend the next several minutes. The grand finale is bright and loud and beautiful and played to the tune of “Calling All Angels” by Train. Cas squeezes his hand a little tighter.
Dean’s heart does something weird inside his chest and he’s sure that he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. It’s in this very moment that he knows that Cas is about to light his world on fire. He can feel the sparks and he’s knows they’re catching.
The fireworks are over, but the ones in his chest are still going off when Cas turns to look at him again. There is something in his eyes, something that looks a lot like admiration mixed with desire.
Cas leans in and Dean mirrors the motion, taking in a deep breath.
“Hey Dean!”
Dean jumps in surprise and turns around to see his brother towering over them. Fucking Sam. Dean’s going to kill him. Jess must notice the murderous look in his eyes and the laser beams he’s trying to shoot from them because she steps forward.
“Hi! I’m Jess.” She extends a hand towards Cas and he stands and shakes it.
“Hello. I’m Castiel Novak.” He turns towards Sam next. “And you must be Sam? Dean’s brother? I remember seeing you at the Roadhouse.” They shake hands as well and Sam is grinning way too wide for Dean’s comfort, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. He sees Jess elbow him to keep him in line and he needs to remember to thank her later. Luckily, Sam manages not to be a total ass for the rest of their short conversation. Small miracles.
They eventually say their goodbyes and much to Dean’s relief, Cas assures him that he still wants to get drinks tomorrow. Dean climbs into the back of Sam’s car for the ride home, and despite the ridicule he receives along the way from a drunk Sam and a very amused Jess, he can’t stop smiling. He doesn’t even care. His last beer was finished during the second inning, but he’s buzzing.
*****
Dean stays up way too late. He’s high on the perfection that was this evening and can’t wait to see Cas again tomorrow. His mind won’t slow down or let him relax enough to feel tired, so he watches some TV and then plays video games until the early hours of the morning when exhaustion finally claims. He falls asleep with a smile still on his face.
He hasn’t dreamt in weeks, but tonight, the blue eyed man in the trench coat is back.
Cas is back.
They are familiar with one another now, friends even. Dean is driving his Baby and Cas is riding shotgun. He’s Cas, but he’s also not Cas. Not his Cas, anyway. Something is different, it’s off. This Cas seems more reserved and awkward.
Dean is in a suit. That’s weird. They’re walking around and talking to people and they seem important. People listen to them.
Cas steps out of Baby and Dean notices that his tie is on backwards. He thinks it’s endearing, so he leaves it, but he does straighten the knot of the tie and adjusts his collar. Cas is looking back at him as he does this and Dean’s palms are sweaty.
Suddenly, they’re in a building and there are people walking around. Dean is obviously a badass because he pulls out a badge. An FBI badge. Awesome. He turns to Cas and realizes that they’re partners. Cas also pulls out his FBI badge, but it’s upside down. Dean fixes that for him, too.
The next thing Dean knows, they’re walking down a sidewalk together and Dean feels impossibly drawn to Cas. He wants to be near him, but he doesn’t make a move. He doesn’t think he can, because this Cas isn’t his Cas. There is something about him, something… surreal. Dean can’t put his finger on it. He keeps his distance, but they laugh. He doesn’t even know what’s been said, but he doubles over, hands on his knees, and he laughs.
It feels good to laugh.
It feels good to be near Cas.
Chapter Text
Dean wakes the next morning much earlier than he had anticipated, the excitement from last night still humming under his skin. He showers, eats a bowl of cereal, and settles down on his couch with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and his laptop balanced on his knees. His first thought upon waking had, of course, been his plans with Cas. He was originally just going to meet him for a few beers, but after last night things just feel different . Now they’re going on a date, right? Like a date date? After last night’s game, Dean assumes as much, but is Cas thinking the same thing?
If he is, and Dean really hopes that he is, then he can’t just drive them to some bar, that would be lame. Cas is obviously expecting a bit more now, isn’t he? Besides, a bar is too casual and Dean wants to make Cas feel special. He doesn’t exactly know why, but to him, Cas feels like someone who deserves just a little bit more. There is this inexplicable force tugging on his heart, whispering to him that Cas is unique and precious, someone to be cherished.
Dean hasn’t been on a proper date in a good long while and all of these uncertainties are driving him crazy. They’re why he couldn’t fall back asleep this morning and they’re why he’s on his laptop right now searching for date ideas because, let’s face it, Dean Winchester is rusty as hell at this.
On the coffee table in front of the couch, there’s a pen and notepad with a few ideas he’s managed to scribble down. He’s trying to come up with a few more when another thought strikes him - they never decided on a time. Is Cas expecting to meet earlier or later in the evening? Should he plan dinner? Maybe he should just call Cas. Or text him. But it’s probably too soon. What if Cas thinks he’s too desperate? Oh God, he doesn’t even know if Cas is a morning person or a late sleeper. Holy shit this is nerve wracking.
Alright. Chill out, Dean. You’re not a teenager anymore, for fuck’s sake. You can do this. It’s not a big deal. It’s just a date. Get a hold of yourself.
But it is a big deal. It is for Dean, anyway. He likes Cas. He likes Cas in a way that he hasn’t liked anyone in a very long time. And last night? His cheeks are still sore from smiling so damn much. He had such a good time just talking to the guy and he would very much like to not fuck this up.
Dean’s phone rings and he nearly spills his coffee when he frantically reaches for it.
Cas’s name lights up the screen.
Can Cas read his thoughts? What if he’s calling to cancel? What if he changed his mind? A hundred worries are racing through his head as his heartbeat jumps into his throat and his palms go clammy. Three rings. It’s about to go to voicemail.
“Hello?” He stumbles as he tries desperately to keep himself steady.
“Hello, Dean.” Cas’s voice is deep and smooth, and it warms Dean from the inside out, like caramel poured over hot apple pie. Dean’s knees might go a little weak.
“Hey Cas. How are you?”
“I um… I hope I didn’t wake you or anything. I wasn’t… uh… I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake. Maybe I should have texted you instead? I’m so sorry, I--”
“Cas. It’s okay. I’m up. I was actually thinking about calling you, too.”
“Really?” There is an audible exhale on the other end of the line and Dean realizes that maybe Cas is just as nervous as he is. It makes him feel better.
“Uh, yeah, actually.” He rubs the back of his neck, willing the heat in his face to go away, even though no one is around to witness it. There’s an uncomfortable silence that follows and Dean isn’t sure who is supposed to speak first, but Cas beats him to it.
“So I guess I was just wondering what time you wanted to ummm… to hang out today? We hadn’t really discussed it and I just figured I should maybe ask.”
“Ha. I was going to ask the same thing.” He laughs lightly to try and shake off the nerves that still won’t let him breathe normally. “So, are you free any time, or do you have plans that we need to work around? Did you double book me with another hot date?”
“What? No, of course not. I don’t have any other plans today.” Cas sounds uneasy and Dean berates himself for making it weird. “Do you? Have another date, that is?”
“Uh, no. Just uh… just you.”
“Yeah. Me too, so that’s good. Well, not good, I guess, if you were looking for another date?”
“No! I’m definitely not.” Well, this is going downhill fast. He needs to save the conversation if he hopes to keep the one and only date he actually has. “Fuck, Cas. I’m sorry. I made it weird. Ignore me, okay? Let me start over... I’m free all day and I’m really looking forward to spending more time with you, if you’re still up for it.”
“Yes, I’d like that very much.”
“Ok, great. So we can just stick with dinner plans or, if you don’t mind, we can start earlier. Maybe try something a bit more unconventional than just dinner and beer?” An idea he wrote down earlier comes to mind and he really hopes Cas will go for it.
“I like unconventional.”
“Awesome. Can I pick you up at eleven?”
“That sounds great. I can text you my address.”
“Ok cool. Oh, and Cas?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you feel about boats?”
“Boats? I like boats. Very much.” Cas sounds confident in his answer, excited even. It causes Dean’s heart to flutter.
“Perfect. Dress for the warm weather and don’t eat lunch. I’ll see you at eleven.”
They hang up the phone and Dean is absolutely giddy, the initial nervousness still causing embarrassment if he dwells on it for too long, but he thinks he rallied and turned it around before the conversation became unsalvageable. He even swears he could hear the smile on Cas’s face when they ended the call, so it’s all good. Everything is fine. It’s better than fine, it’s awesome.
A few minutes later, Dean’s phone pings with a new message and he looks to see that Cas texted him his address along with instructions to park out in front because it’s an apartment complex with a gated vehicle entry. Cas only lives about fifteen minutes away, give or take some time depending on traffic and the time of day, so that’s going to be easy.
It’s just before nine, which means he has a little under two hours before he’ll have to leave. He keeps himself distracted by completing chores around his own apartment, anxiously wiping down the kitchen, throwing in a load of laundry, and then vacuuming the living room and his bedroom. He’s easily able to kill time before it’s absolutely necessary that he get himself ready. Having worked up a bit of a sweat in the summer heat, he takes another, much colder, shower. Pulling on a pair of dark grey shorts and a black tee, he grabs his wallet and sunglasses off of his dresser. Stopping to give himself a once-over in the bathroom mirror, he decides at the last second to switch his shirt and swaps it out for a light-weight maroon v-neck.
Back at the mirror, Dean stares at his hair and questions whether or not he should put product in it. During the school year, meticulously styling his hair is part of his regular morning routine, but during the summer when school is out, he typically leaves it alone. The internal debate is settled when he recalls a time a few weeks ago at the Roadhouse when a gorgeous young woman stopped just short of running her nails across his scalp while telling him that his “fluffy” hair was sexy as hell . She had had a few glasses of wine too many, but the memory of the complement gives him the courage to leave his hair… fluffy.
Before heading out to his car, Dean grabs a couple of beach towels, two reusable water bottles filled with ice and water, and some sunscreen, and throws them into a beach bag he has stored in his small linen closet. He puts Cas’s address into the GPS on his phone, slips on his flip flops, and heads out the door.
Twenty minutes later he’s pulling up to a large and lively apartment complex and parking in what appears to be a visitor’s parking zone. It’s a hot day and people are out walking around in their swimsuits, carrying towels and coolers to and from the pool area that must be somewhere close by. The aroma of charcoal and chlorine fills the air, the smell of summer making Dean relax with the sense of comfort it brings.
He enjoys the atmosphere for a moment, noting that it’s mostly young adults and families. It seems to be a friendly place to live, except that it’s absolutely massive. He has no idea where to even begin to look for Cas’s apartment, so he takes out his phone to send a text.
DEAN : Hey, I’m here, but I think I need a map.
The response he gets is instantaneous.
CAS : Don’t worry. I’ll come to you. Where are you parked?
DEAN : In front near the leasing office.
CAS : Stay there. Be right out.
Dean gets out of his car and leans against the front of her hood, legs slightly out in front of him and casually crossed at the ankles. He sits back, leaning on his hands and people-watching. A few minutes later, he looks up to see Cas walking towards him.
He has to make a conscious effort to keep his mouth closed.
Cas looks gorgeous. He is radiant in an effortless, relaxed sort of way. He looks like he was made for California with rays of golden sunlight illuminating his smile and complimenting his sinfully sunkissed skin. He’s wearing a fitted black tee, blue cargo shorts that hug his hips just so, and a pair of Sperry deck shoes on his feet. But absolutely none of that compares to the way his eyes shine a bright, ethereal blue.
Well, fuck.
Dean swallows hard as he takes in Cas’s approaching figure. As he walks, Cas’s thighs push and pull against the fabric of his shorts, revealing muscular legs and runner’s calves. Eyes raking back up his frame, Dean realizes that Cas is slender, yet toned and incredibly fit, with strong shoulders and defined arms. His shirt gently stretches against his biceps and across his chest and Dean is lost in the thought of what he looks like without the shirt. Cas is unassumingly sculpted and Dean can’t break his eyes away.
He must catch Dean staring because as soon as he approaches the car, he holds his arms out away from his sides, fingers slightly splayed, and asks, “Is this okay?”
Dean quickly stands up to face him, pulling his keys out of his pocket and fumbling with them because he has no idea what to do with his hands. He swallows and wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, hoping it’s enough to allow himself to form words, but all he manages is a slight nod. Cas looks unsure.
“If it’s too casual, I can change,” he says with hesitation etched in his voice.
“No. You’re perfect.” Dean blurts out. “I mean… you look good, Cas. Really good.” He looks down at the ground in front of him and rubs at the back of his neck. If he doesn’t get a hold of himself, today is going to be a very long day.
When he summons the courage to lift his head back up, he finds Cas looking intently back at him with a squint, a barely-there smile, and a tilt to his head that makes him look like he’s concentrating.
In that moment, Dean is overcome with a wave of nostalgia mixed with something like deja vu. He can’t explain it, but it almost feels as if all of this is familiar somehow. In reality, they hardly know each other and are still awkward as hell, and yet… something is nagging at the back of his brain. He knows he’s had vague dreams about the guy, but those are mostly harmless and uneventful from what he remembers, and he’s had deja vu before, but never anything quite like this. This feels more intense and just different. Everything about Cas is different.
For the sake of his own sanity and not looking like a complete loser, he quickly chalks it all up to first date jitters and claps his hands together once, punctuating his mental switch back to the present reality. He smiles wide at Cas. “Alright. You ready to rock and roll?”
Dean walks to the passenger’s side door and opens it for Cas, who stops short of climbing into the front seat. He takes a step back as he notices the Impala for the first time, looking at her up and down, much the same way Dean had looked at him just minutes before.
“This is your car?” he asks with wonder in voice.
“Sure is. Cas, meet Baby. Baby, Cas.” He makes the mock introduction with a prideful grin. “Baby is my 67’ Impala, passed down to me from my Dad.”
“I’ll be honest, I know next to nothing about cars, but I know enough to know that she’s gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you think so. I might have had to end the date here and now if you had said otherwise.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good. Glad we got that settled. Now hop on in.”
They smile over the door frame at one another before Cas ducks his head to climb into the front seat. Dean shuts the door and moves over to the driver’s side, quickly starting the engine and cranking the AC. On hot summer days, the Impala heats up all too quickly with her black leather interior, and she’s already been sitting in the sun for awhile now.
Cas is settling in when he looks over at Dean. “Before we leave, do I need anything? I just have my wallet but I don’t exactly know what we’re doing today.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve got us covered.”
“Okay.” The look Cas throws his way is full of trust as they both relax into the seat.
Dean is backing out of the parking spot when out of the corner of his eye, he notices Cas wiggle slightly and remove something from his pocket. At the first stoplight, Dean looks over, unable to ignore his curiosity. Cas has taken out a brown case and slipped on a pair of aviators.
Sonofabitch . Cas is riding shotgun in his Baby, looking gorgeous as hell, throwing smiles at him as if each one didn’t threaten to make his heart burst, and if all that weren’t enough, Cas has the nerve to put on aviators. He may not be standing right now, but Dean knows he’s weak in the knees.
Yeah, it’s going to be a long day indeed.
*****
They make small talk in the car and the initial awkwardness soon melts away as they easily settle into a comfortable companionship yet again. Cas’s dry humor and sarcasm keep Dean on his toes, and he enjoys the way that Cas makes him laugh. He doesn't even have to fake it with those disingenuous chuckles that people so often do when they’re uninterested but trying to be polite. No, Dean is laughing from his chest, head tilted back and mouth open. It’s been a long time since anyone made him laugh like that.
He’s catching his breath from one of those laughs when Cas finally asks, “So… when do I get to know what we’re doing?”
“You held out on that question longer than I expected. I’m impressed.”
“I didn’t want to be rude, but I’m also extremely curious, and it’s been killing me not to ask.”
“First things first, I’m starving. I’m taking you to lunch out in Newport Beach. I know this spot right on the marina that has fish tacos to die for. Oh shit - I didn’t even ask you! Are you good with seafood?”
“Seafood? Absolutely, yes. I think I just got hungrier at the mention of it.”
“Awesome. So it’s lunch and then I booked us a whale watching cruise. That’s why I asked you about boats - it’s a one hour tour and the reviews on it are great.”
Dean is met with silence and he can feel Cas’s eyes on him. Their exit is coming up and he has to pay attention to the road, but he spares a quick glance over. Cas is staring at him with a shocked expression on his face and his mouth slightly open. Dean isn’t sure what to make of it and he gets a sinking feeling in his chest.
“Is that okay? If not, I can totally cancel. It’s not a big deal and we can easily figure something else out. Fuck, I probably should have asked you first. I’m sorry.”
Another beat of silence.
“Cas?”
“I’m sorry. I just got this weird sense of…you know what, nevermind. It’s just… you did say whale watching, right? Because that’s perfect. Seriously, I… it’s perfect, Dean.”
“Listen, if you’re uncomfortable with it or think you might get seasick or just bored or whatever, you aren’t going to hurt my feelings, I swear. I want this to be fun for you, so you just gotta let me know.”
“I really mean it - it all sounds absolutely amazing. You just kinda surprised me, that’s all.” He sounds genuine enough, but Dean isn’t quite convinced.
“The good kind of surprise, or the bad kind?”
“Definitely the good kind.”
“You sure? Because I can just get a refund, it’s really not a big deal, and then-- ”
“Dean.” Cas cuts him off and reaches a hand out for his knee, but quickly retracts it before it gets there. He hears Cas let out a sigh and he holds his breath for the fallout he’s afraid is coming. “I didn’t… I don’t exactly want to bring this up, especially not now, but I also don’t want my reaction to cause you doubt, because that’s not fair to you, so I’m just going to put this out there.”
“Okay...” Dean is still worried about where this is going.
“Remember the ex I told you about yesterday?” Dean nods his confirmation. “Well, he hated seafood, and I mean really hated it, always said the smell made him sick. And the thing is, I love seafood, but I didn’t touch it for the two years we were together.”
“Well that totally blows.”
“Yes, but that’s not all…” Cas looks down at his lap and fidgets with his hands. “I have dreamt of whale watching since I was a kid. I’m not kidding, Dean. It’s something I’ve always wanted, however lame that may be. Having spent my whole life in Chicago, I’ve always lived near water but not the actual ocean, ya know? So it’s just… yeah.” He keeps staring down at his hands as the words come out in a rush, as if he’s embarrassed by them. “Anyway, Mick and I took a vacation to Cape Cod once and it was the one thing that I asked him to do with me, but he refused. He said it was a waste of time and that the boat would smell like fish. I honestly don’t even know why he wanted to vacation there, come to think of it. We stayed in our suite almost the entire time while he complained about everything...” He trails off, getting lost in the memory.
Dean lets the silence sit, not wanting to interrupt. He’s about to say something when Cas comes back to himself and continues.
“And then there’s you.” Cas looks back at him now. “You plan this date without even really knowing much about me, and… and it’s basically perfect and I don’t know how you did that.” He takes a deep breath, letting out a relieved chuckle, and Dean risks another glance across the space between them. He relaxes when he sees a contented grin spread wide across Cas’s face. “So there you have it. I would love to go get seafood and then yes, please please please let’s go on that cruise.”
The melancholy that had tried to sneak its way into their conversation is easily shaken off and Dean tosses his head back in a hearty laugh at Cas’s show of enthusiasm.
“Alright, Cas. Let’s go find us some whales.”
“But food first, right? I do have priorities.”
“Keep talking like that and I just may have to propose to you someday,” Dean says with a wink.
Cas’s laughter fills the car and Dean’s heart is soaring, both with Cas’s heartfelt confession and with a rejuvenated sense of excitement. He had no idea the plans he made were going to be so poignant, and he can’t wait to get Cas on that boat and share this experience with him. Dean starts to wonder what other things Cas might want to do and the future suddenly feels wide open and promising.
Slow down, Dean. You gotta make sure he wants a second date first. Be cool.
They make their way to the restaurant, a bright and peppy place seated right on the water’s edge with a view of the marina and all the boats passing by. Even though the weather is unusually hot for Southern California, there’s a cool breeze coming in off the water, so they opt to sit outside on the open patio. After settling at their table, they fall into a slow and consuming conversation as they take their time learning about each other, Dean appreciating everything that Cas is willing to share, never rushing or pushing him.
When the food arrives, Dean is delighted to watch Cas dig in with wide eyes. He was so excited over all the choices on the menu that he couldn’t decide, so Dean took pity on him and offered that they share their entrees so he could taste more than one. Dean doesn’t share food, but the way Cas lit up at the suggestion had Dean thinking that he would do just about anything to see that look again. They start with calamari and then share an order of fish tacos and a sampler platter for as much of a variety as they can manage.
When they finish their meal, Cas sits back with a satisfied grin on his face.
“So? Did you get a proper seafood fix?”
“I am so full, but I couldn’t help myself, it was all so delicious. Thank you, Dean. Really. I haven’t enjoyed a meal like this in a very long time.”
“Not even at the Roadhouse?” Dean teases.
“I wasn’t just talking about the food.” Cas holds eye contact as he says the words and he knows that Cas is being absolutely honest with him.
They share shy smiles and relax until the bill comes. When it does, Dean snatches it up, silencing Cas’s protests with the admission that he’s wanted to take Cas on a date for months.
“Let me do this for you. Please. I want to. I’ve wanted to basically since we first met, but I was a dumbass. Besides, from what I’ve gathered, it’s about damn time someone spoils you for a change. Let me take care of you, Cas.”
For a moment, Dean worries that he might have said too much or overstepped a boundary, but his fears are assuaged when he sees Cas looking at him with admiration instead of anger. Cas’s cheeks are slightly flushed and their gazes lock, as they so often do. Cas doesn’t respond with words, but he doesn’t have to.
“Now come on, let’s get out of here.” They stand and Dean places a gentle hand on Cas’s lower back to lead them out of the restaurant and back to his car.
They soon get to the dock and find the information center where they need to check in for the cruise. Once inside, Cas takes his time looking at the photographs that adorn most of the wall space in the small booking office. He grabs Dean’s arm, pointing out a few of the photos that he finds particularly fascinating, his body practically radiating with anticipation.
By the time they are done checking in, Dean has them upgraded to the four hour cruise. Cas had politely tried to insist that the longer tour wasn’t necessary, but Dean knew he was just trying to be polite. The excited squeeze Cas gave his arm while Dean paid for the upgrade was all the assurance he needed to know that he was right.
The longer cruise is on a smaller boat, but it’s less cramped with people. Cas bounces up the ramp and immediately heads to the bow, insisting that they should get a front row seat, and Dean happily follows along, carrying the beach bag that he had grabbed from the trunk. They find seats along the railing and settle in for the captain’s announcements and safety instructions.
The first part of the cruise is the lengthy journey away from the coastline and out to the viewing grounds where they’re told pods of whales have been recently spotted. As the boat picks up speed, Cas is overtaken by childlike fascination. Dean watches as Cas closes his eyes, tilts his chin up, and lets the wind hit his face and sweep through his hair. The air is salty and the sun is warm, but nothing quite compares to just how content Cas looks in this moment. Knowing that he played a part in making this all happen, it’s overwhelming, and it inflates him with a type of joy that he’s never experienced before.
About twenty minutes into the cruise, Dean realizes that they should really be wearing sunscreen and remembers that he packed it in his bag. Cas thanks him for the foresight and Dean quietly berates himself for packing a spray-on bottle because there is nothing dignified about spray-on sunscreen. He’ll make sure to remember that for next time.
Dean gets another nod approval when he pulls out the bottles full of ice water.
“You think of everything, don’t you?” Cas says with a smirk.
“I’m not usually this prepared, trust me. But there are just some things you learn after enough beach experience - always have towels, water, and sunscreen. The basic beach essentials.”
Cas keeps grinning and God, he could get high off of the way he feels when he impresses Cas enough to bring out that damn smile.
Another hour passes and they still haven’t spotted any whales, but no one would be able to tell just by looking at them. They fill their time with laughter and more conversation, enjoying each other’s company and the gorgeous views, and not once does Dean get bored. Of course, the cruise is kept interesting when they see sea lions and come across several pods of dolphins, Cas jumping out of his seat each time like he’s never seen wild animals before. At one point, a pod of nearly eighty dolphins swim right alongside the boat and Cas leans so far over the railing that Dean has to put an arm around his waist so he doesn’t tip himself overboard - and so what if his arm stays right where it is long after the danger passes.
The time slips by and Dean learns more about Cas’s family and his two brothers, Michael and Gabriel. He even learns more about Cas’s ex, Mick, and ends up pouring his heart out to Cas about his own ex, Lisa. It’s a heavy topic for first date material and he’s not usually one to talk about exes in general, never really sees the point in it, but he finds that he’s desperate to get to know Cas in every way that he can.
Dean wants to know everything. Every single detail. He wants to know his hopes and dreams, his fears and accomplishments, his passions, his regrets, and his secrets. He wants to know what makes him angry and what brings him joy, his favorite cereal and his fondest childhood memory, how he likes his eggs cooked in the morning, and how he takes his coffee. He wants to know what he looks like without his shirt on and what he tastes like behind his ear, and the look on his face and the sounds that come from his lips when he’s being pleasured.
Nothing is too much and everything is not enough. Dean wants to know Cas.
When the boat turns to head back to shore, it’s all too soon.
During the last hour, the sun drops low in the sky and the wind picks up, making the ride back to the harbor choppier than before, coating them with a heavy mist of sea spray each time the bow of the boat drops to meet the waves ahead. It makes for a chilly ride and Dean offers for them to head inside, where most of the guests have gathered, but Cas is perfectly content braving the elements and Dean is more than happy to oblige.
He grabs the bag that he brought with them and pulls out one of the oversized beach towels that he’s got rolled up inside. He hands one over to Cas and by the time Dean turns to grab the second one, Cas has thrown the towel across both of their legs, scooting closer so they can share, using the towel as a blanket. Dean grins, takes the second towel and throws it over their shoulders. Cas’s hand seeks out Dean’s and when it’s found, Cas slides his hand over Dean’s palm and laces their fingers together.
“Thank you, Dean” he whispers as quietly as the waves will allow. “This was so much fun. I hope you still don’t mind that we took the longer cruise.”
“I don’t regret a single second of it. I’m only sorry we didn’t see any whales, but I guess that just means that we’ll have to try again sometime.” Dean squeezes Cas’s hand.
“I would love that.”
“Me too.”
Cas wiggles a bit closer to Dean and leans into his shoulder, but just as they are getting comfortable, the boat slows and the Captain comes over the speaker:
“ Ladies and Gentlemen, it looks like the whales wanted to make a last minute appearance for you after all! If you’ll look out in front of us and to the starboard side, on your right, we’ve spotted a small pod. This is a family of blue whales. We’ve counted about four of them so far, so keep your eyes out and they should breach again in a few minutes. We’ve slowed the boat down to hopefully give us all a chance to observe.”
The Captain continues to provide fun facts about blue whales for the passengers, but Cas is out of his seat so fast that he nearly trips over Dean while trying to extricate himself from the towels. Dean follows close behind and they’re both at the railing and peering out into the horizon, waiting intently.
“There! There, do you see them?!” Cas grabs Dean’s arm and points, sounding like a kid who just spotted their favorite superhero at Disneyland. Dean can’t help but smile, loving every second of it. How is it possible that a grown man could be so insanely hot and incredibly adorable at the same time? He doesn’t understand it.
The boat slowly drifts closer to the small pod and after about fifteen minutes of observation time, with the whales consistently breaching and putting on a bit of a show, the Captain comes back on to announce that they need to make their way back to shore. Dean and Cas find their spot again and situate themselves back under the towels for the rest of the ride, a smile plastered across Cas’s face so damn big that Dean swears he can actually feel warmth radiating from it.
“Hey Dean?” Cas says tentatively once they’ve picked up speed again.
“Yeah?”
“I know we ended up seeing whales, but do you think we can do this again sometime anyway?”
“We can do whatever you want, Cas, you just say the word.” Cas leans in even closer and Dean puts his arm around him, holding him tight. “Wait. I take that back.” Cas leans back to look up at him in question. “I won’t skydive. I’m sorry, but I won’t. I can’t. And if that just so happens to be the next thing on your wishlist, then I’ll gladly wait for you on the ground.”
Cas laughs and settles back against Dean, nestling under his arm. “I have no desire to jump out of a perfectly good airplane, so unless I manage to grow a pair of wings, I think we’re in agreement on that one.”
“Thank God.”
*****
They finally reach the harbor and disembark, taking a minute to adjust to solid ground again. By the time they drop the beach bag off at the Impala, Dean’s stomach is grumbling. Realizing that they’re both hungry again and that it’s about dinner time anyway, they walk along the waterfront until they come upon a small Mexican restaurant and head inside.
A lazy dinner and a couple of drinks later, they find themselves aimlessly strolling the sidewalk. Dean feels lightheaded and relaxed, and he can’t quite be sure if that’s because of the beers he drank or just because of Cas. For awhile, they walk in silence and Dean appreciates that it isn’t awkward - it’s peaceful and comforting, and it just feels right.
It seems like everything feels that way with Cas. It’s uncomplicated and easy. Dean likes it.
They stop at an ice cream shop and then make their way out onto the long pier. They eventually reach the edge of it and Dean leans his hips against the wood railing, his back towards the water, Cas standing next to him. They’d been talking baseball for awhile, so Cas looks up the score of the Angels game and updates Dean with the highlights while Dean finishes off his cone. When Cas returns to Dean’s side after discarding their trash, he leans forward and rests his elbows on the railing to face the ocean, Dean turning to join him, their shoulders touching.
The sun hangs low in the sky, preparing to blanket the coastline in twilight. Wisps of orange, pink, and purple paint the horizon like watercolors as the last light of the day dances and shimmers on the waves before them. Cas is beautiful against the picturesque backdrop, the golden yellow light glistening around him, giving the illusion of a halo around his head. Were he able to ask God himself to create a more perfect canvas for their first date, Dean doesn’t think it could be done.
They spend several peaceful minutes watching the sun set before them. They don’t speak - in this moment, it’s enough to simply exist together.
As the sun finally falls beyond the line of the horizon, Cas carefully breaks the silence.
“I’ve been living here in California for a few months now and this is the first sunset I’ve watched. Are they always this beautiful?” Cas gazes out at the expansive ocean in front of them, a wistful look in his eyes.
“I’d love to tell you yes, but the truth is, I haven’t taken the time to watch one in a very long time. It really is beautiful, though, isn’t it?”
“I always figured that California sunsets were a product of Hollywood, you know? Cinematic dramatization and all that nonsense. Turns out quite the opposite is true. I don’t think anything I’ve ever seen has done them justice. I’m a little speechless.”
Dean looks over at Cas, his heart swelling and not for the first time today. A warmth washes over him, tightening around his chest like a physical embrace, and he knows it has nothing to do with the weather. Without taking his eyes off of Cas, he responds in a tone that’s just barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Dean looks at Cas with his windswept hair and his face a little pink from their day in the sun, and it takes his breath away.
Cas’s eyes find their way back to Dean’s and it’s like two puzzle pieces locking into place. Dean feels electricity in the air and he stops breathing altogether, not wanting to break the spell.
Cas leans in, impossibly slow at first, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips just once. Dean wets them as he feels his chest tremble on an inhale. Cas closes the distance and their lips meet.
It’s a firm but gentle kiss. It’s simple and pure and right and Dean doesn’t want to move. He never wants to move away from this moment.
When they break apart, Dean chases the kiss with another, this one more confident and insistent as he moves his hands to Cas’s jaw, Cas wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist in one smooth motion. They melt into each other as they take their time tasting and exploring and learning. They part again, short of breath and with goofy smiles.
“I hope that was okay,” Cas gasps. “I’ve been thinking about doing that all damn day. Longer, actually.”
“That was more than okay. That was um… that was… awesome. So whenever you feel like doing that again, you just go right on ahead.” he says in a daze.
So Cas kisses him again.
It doesn’t take long for dusk to pass and night to fall, the temperature dropping and turning the evening chilly. They make their way back to the Impala and if Cas sits closer to him on the drive home, neither of them say a word about it.
By the time Dean parks in front of Cas’s apartment complex, they are already deep into another conversation, this time swapping childhood injury stories. The engine is eventually turned off and nearly another two hours pass them by before Cas yawns and looks down at his phone. It’s not the first time Dean noticed him check the time in the last fifteen minutes or so, but Cas has made no attempt to leave or end the conversation.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, hoping that Cas hasn’t finally decided that he’s bored.
“Yes, of course. Why?”
“Oh, uh… it’s just that you keep looking at your phone and I don’t want to keep you if you want to go. Besides, you’re probably totally sick of me by now.”
“Not at all!” Cas reaches over and grabs Dean’s hand with a reassuring squeeze. “But I really should get going. I don’t want to, but I have to be up at four o’clock tomorrow morning to be at a meeting in Downtown LA by five. I’m meeting with a restaurant owner before he needs to start prepping for the day’s menu.”
“Four in the morning? Tomorrow ?! Cas, it’s after eleven, why didn’t you say something?! I feel terrible.”
“No no no. Please don’t. It’s my own fault. I just… I really don’t want this date to end, so I didn’t say anything about the time.” Cas reluctantly removes his hand from Dean’s, setting it back in his own lap.
Dean shakes his head and chuckles. “I guess I can understand that.”
“I really do have to get going, but Dean?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you. For all of this. I had an incredible time today, really. I can’t even begin to tell you.”
“I had a great time, too.” They share another shy smile before they both exit the car and Dean walks around to meet Cas on the passenger side. Suddenly, he’s nervous all over again. “So does this mean I can take you out again?”
“I was really hoping you’d ask that.” Cas looks down at the pavement hiding his face and toeing at a pebble, but Dean can hear the grin through his words. “So uh, when do you want to plan for? Or, you know, we can decide that later, too. It doesn’t have to be now.” It’s Cas who sounds nervous now.
“Tomorrow too soon?”
Cas’s head snaps up and his eyebrows raise, a smile splitting his face. “I should be home by noon.”
“Text me when you're settled?”
“Okay. But don’t judge me if I fall asleep for a few hours first.”
Dean laughs. “Never. Now go get some rest.”
“Goodnight, Dean.”
“Night.”
Cas turns to walk away but Dean feels a swell of courage come over him like a wave, the current of it sweeping up his spine and down his arm. Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s reaching out and grabbing Cas by the wrist, pulling him back and spinning him around. Dean takes his other arm around Cas’s waist and pulls him to his chest, their lips colliding for another kiss. Dean closes his eyes and breathes in, letting all that is Cas fill his senses. When he releases his hold, Cas staggers back slightly, a bit bewildered and looking the part with his wild hair.
“Goodnight, Cas” Dean repeats with a wink.
Knowing that if he doesn’t walk away right now, he just might be tempted to ask Cas to call in sick tomorrow and let this date roll right on through sunrise, so Dean turns to make his way back to the driver’s side. He opens the door and slides in, and only then does he allow himself to look back up towards Cas.
Cas is still standing on the curb, not having moved. They smile at each other through the windshield and when Dean revs the engine, Cas laughs and finally turns away to walk to his apartment.
Dean spends the drive home in an absolute daze.
He can’t believe his luck. This guy, who walked into his life out of nowhere, who kept bumping into him by random circumstance, and who happens to be one of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen… this once in a lifetime kind of guy likes him. How crazy is that?
Dean’s brain doesn’t even know where to start. He loved every single moment of today, and he hopes that Cas did too. He hadn’t meant to sound so eager when he asked if Cas was free tomorrow and was relieved when Cas agreed to another date so soon, but he just dropped Cas off and he already misses him. Is that even possible? Can you miss someone like that? It’s just that Cas is getting further away with every rotation of Baby’s wheels and all Dean wants to do is turn back around. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
As he’s pulling into his own apartment, exhaustion finally beginning to make his legs heavy and his muscles ache, his phone buzzes. He parks and turns off the engine, pulling his phone out of his pocket. It’s a text from Sam.
SAM : How’d it go?
DEAN : Just got home. Need a shower then bed.
SAM : Ew gross. Didn’t need to know that.
DEAN : Not like that you perv. Spent all day in Newport. I’m sweaty and have sunscreen and salt all over me.
SAM : Sunscreen. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?
Dean rolls his eyes even if Sam can’t see him and he sends several middle-finger emojis, getting laughing emojis in response. He’ll call Sam in the morning and have a real conversation with his brother, but for right now, it’s shower and sleep.
*****
Dean hits the pillow with a smile on his face. He’s pretty sure he drove all the way home and showered with it on, too, and although the giddy heart palpitations he’s been experiencing all day threatened to keep his mind buzzing and his body awake, he falls asleep within minutes after turning off his light.
It’s not long before he sees Cas in his dreams again.
Dean’s in a desert somewhere. He doesn’t recognize the place, but he recognizes the car, his car, his Baby. He’s driving Baby along an empty road, open land surrounding him, but there are parked cars and people up ahead in the roadway. He realizes that he’s not alone in the car and when he turns, there’s Cas in the passenger seat. Cas is wearing some kind of ridiculously campy cowboy hat. Holy shit - he’s wearing one, too. Wow. He’s wearing a tailored suit, a bolo tie, cowboy boots and a Stetson hat and he looks good .
He parks the car and he and Cas get out. Looking at his partner, he sees that Cas has on that trench coat again. Always with the trench coat, but he makes it work somehow.
Dean has the urge to grab Cas’s hand and he almost does, but he stops short. He remembers that this is not his Cas. This Cas is different and they have a job to do. It feels important. It feels dangerous but, just like in every dream before, he’s not scared or worried. This job of his is dangerous but he’s got backup, and knows he’s protected somehow.
He’s got Cas.
Chapter Text
Dean and Cas go on their second date the following day… and another the day after that, and again the day after that.
And so the summer goes.
Cas is largely able to make his own schedule with his editing and writing assignments and with Dean still on summer break, it’s easy for them to find a rhythm and work around each other, maximizing the time they spend together. If Cas were any other person, Dean would probably find it overwhelming and think him too clingy or needy, but just like with everything else, it’s different with Cas. Dean can’t get enough of him. He wakes up thinking about him and often falls asleep at night while still texting him, only to pick up whatever conversation they were having first thing the next morning. In between that, Dean dreams about him.
Since their date in Newport, Dean’s dreams have become more vivid. More often than not, Cas appears as an angel of some kind. Sometimes he has wings and sometimes he doesn’t, sometimes they are fighting strange creatures together and sometimes they’re just in his car or in the badass underground house that keeps recurring, but no matter what, they’re always together. Sam even shows up in several of the dreams. It’s weird and ultimately frustrating when whenever he and Cas get too close or begin to open up to each other, Sam is there to interrupt the moment. Dean tries not to think too hard on that.
*****
A week later, Dean meets Charlie for the first time. The three of them take Seb and Zazu out to the dog beach and Charlie wastes no time giving Dean the third degree. She’s a spitfire and Dean instantly loves her.
“I can’t believe you assumed we were a couple without even asking! You know you’re a moron, right?” Charlie jabs as they leisurely walk down the beach, the dogs off leash and enjoying the water.
“Yeah, yeah. We’ve been over this. I’m a dumbass. But at least I made up for it with my charm and my good looks.” Dean winks at her.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mr. Hot Shot. I’m still not sold on you, and as Cas’s best friend--”
“Only friend.” Cas chimes in.
“That still makes me your best friend, Cas,” she laughs. “Anyway, as Cas’s best and only and most perfectly wonderful friend, you require my approval.”
“So what’s it going to take to convince you I’m worthy?”
“Asking that question is a start. Then you can answer this one: Episode Four, Five, or Six? Go.”
“Charlie…” Cas whines. “We don’t even know--”
“ New Hope . Hands down.” Dean interrupts, staring Charlie down with a challenging grin. Cas looks at him, stunned and blinking.
“Interesting. I’d have pegged you for an Empire Strikes Back kinda guy.”
“Five has its merits, best sequel of all time, but my loyalties lie with the original.”
“That’s admirable. Ok, next question: would you start our Star Wars virgin friend over here with the original trilogy, or the prequels?”
“I am offended you are even asking me that! Original trilogy. No question.”
Cas looks between them as if they’re speaking another language. When Dean and Charlie finally take notice of his silence, they have to hold back a laugh because the look on his face is scrunched somewhere between amused and confused.
“While you two do your nerd thing, I’m going to go find that tennis ball Seb seems to have dropped and forgotten somewhere - I’ll be right back”. Cas takes off jogging down the beach, calling for the pups and running with them, his bare feet splashing along the water’s edge.
Dean is admiring the sight when Charlie pipes up again.
“Alright Winchester, you have a pass... for now.”
“Oh do I?”
“Yes, but listen to me.” Charlie stops and reaches for Dean’s shoulder, turning him to face her, the look on her face suddenly stern. “I care about Cas. A lot. So I’m only going to say this once and I need you to listen.” Dean nods his head. “Don’t break his heart. He’s been hurt enough, which I think you already know just a little bit about, but he’s more fragile than I think he’s letting on with you. All I’m asking is that you be careful, and for God's sake treat him right because he’s one of the good ones.”
“Charlie, this thing with Cas? It’s barely been a week and I already know he’s special. I could never hurt him, not on purpose. I’ll take care of him, okay?”
“Okay” Charlie says, smiling and bumping her shoulder against Dean’s as they start to walk again. “You know, Winchester, I think you might be alright.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, red.” And just like that, Dean’s made another friend before he makes it home that night.
*****
It’s a random Tuesday when Dean suggests that they take an impromptu trip to Santa Barbara. Cas is sitting on Dean’s couch with Dean’s legs thrown across his lap, Cas’s laptop balancing on top of them. He’s working on a freelance writing assignment and Dean is reviewing lesson plans when Dean drops the idea.
“Just like that?” Cas asks.
“Come on, it’ll be fun! Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”
“Okay, Dean. Yes. Let’s do it.” Cas smiles and excitement lights up his eyes. The way he looks at Dean is so full of trust that he isn’t sure he’s earned quite yet, but he’ll do his damndest to never ever make Cas regret it. He has to swallow against the way his heart clenches with want and affection when Cas goes home that night to pack and rearrange his schedule to make himself available for the next few days.
By the following morning, Dean is throwing his bag into Baby’s trunk and heading out to pick up Cas from his apartment. Charlie walks Cas out to the car when Dean gets there and tries to sweet talk her way into the backseat as a stowaway. She’s unsuccessful. Dean wants them to have the weekend to themselves. Charlie lovingly flips them off and tells Cas that she’ll look after his one single houseplant (the one she got him as a new neighbor welcome gift and that’s miraculously still alive).
Dean quickly sends a quick text to his brother and Ellen to let them know he’ll be out of town for a few days and then shoves his phone in his pocket without waiting for a response. They hit the road and Cas pulls out his sunglasses again.
“Are those your aviators? Do you even know what those do to me, Cas?”
“So you like them?” Cas gets a mischievous grin on his face as he slowly and deliberately pulls the sunglasses out of their case. He looks right at Dean as he takes his time sliding them on and resting them on the bridge of his nose. “Tell me… what do they do to you?”
Dean groans and knowing Cas is teasing him, he grips the steering wheel tighter and focuses all of his attention on the road in front of him. Cas’s laughter fills the car and Dean soaks it in. If he had to hear only one sound for the rest of his life, he would want it to be that.
They spend their time in Santa Barbara doing whatever suits their mood in the moment and Dean is surprised yet again at just how easy it is to be with Cas. On their first day, they decide on horseback riding and then wine tasting, followed up the next day with bike rentals and paddle boarding. By the time they reach their third and final day, they are happily exhausted and keen to walk lazily around downtown and out to the pier for some saltwater taffy.
They have an early dinner during which they end up ordering several drinks. Cas says he wants to try all of the different fruity cocktails, and even though Dean pretends to be offended by the cheesy names and little toothpick umbrellas, the fight he puts up holds no real threat - Dean orders five cocktails to share between the two of them just so Cas can taste them all. When they reach their oceanfront hotel, they are pleasantly buzzed.
Walking into their room, Cas is nearly doubled over in laughter at a stupid joke Dean made and Dean is absolutely drunk - not on the alcohol, although that’s helping, but on Cas. The sight of him alone is utterly intoxicating. They’re both still wiping hysterical tears from their eyes when Cas looks up and his stare locks with Dean’s.
The laughing stops.
Their chests are heaving with the exertion and Dean is pretty sure that his heartbeat can be heard in the next room over. Everything slows and Cas is looking at him like he’s memorizing every freckle on his face, and Dean lets him. They breathe as the electricity builds.
Up until this point, they have taken things slowly, despite the amount of time they’ve spent together. Dean thought it would drive him crazy, and it has, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he’s also been enjoying it. There have been no expectations and no rush while they take their time. The handholding, and the touching, and the kissing.... the kissing … it’s all been perfect, but that’s where it’s always stopped.
Most evenings that they’ve hung out together have been spent at Dean’s apartment, and most of those nights have ended with Cas going home to sleep in his own bed. He’s stayed over a few times and they’ve innocently fallen asleep in each other’s arms on several occasions, but any time Dean has tried to push for more, Cas has politely excused himself and found a reason to go home, leaving Dean frustrated and confused. He’d been worried that maybe the sexual attraction wasn’t reciprocated, but he knew that wasn’t true because not only has he seen the evidence of it, he’s felt it against his leg during more than one makeout session. So Dean has resolutely decided to let Cas set the pace.
He’d been planning to broach the subject during this trip just to get it out in the open, but the way Cas is looking at him now with lust blown eyes, Dean thinks it may no longer be necessary.
Cas takes a deliberate step forward and Dean doesn’t move, unsure of what to do. There’s nowhere for Cas to run off to and the last thing Dean would ever want is to make him uncomfortable.
He isn’t left questioning for long.
Without warning, Cas crowds Dean up against the nearest wall, palms roughly raking at his chest and crashing their lips together. The sudden change of pace catches Dean off guard, but he recovers rather quickly and fists his hands in Cas’s hair, tugging his head back to expose his neck. The sounds that come out of Cas’s throat only work to encourage him further, Dean sliding his knee up between Cas’s legs.
Cas lets out a guttural moan and begins to rock his hips against the top of Dean’s thigh. Their movements are frantic and uncoordinated as they pull and grab at one another, Cas yanking Dean’s shirt up and over his shoulders, attacking Dean’s chest with his mouth the moment his skin is exposed. Dean drops his head back against the wall with a thud and Cas moves up to his neck, finding his pulse point and sucking. It’s Dean’s turn to groan as he lets Cas use his tongue to explore his body and take control.
“Dean,” Cas whispers while tugging on his earlobe with his teeth, making Dean nearly lose his balance. “I want you.”
Dean doesn’t have the coherency to use his words in response, so instead, he grabs Cas by the upper arms and determinedly walks him backwards towards the king sized bed. He pushes Cas down, following him onto the mattress, dipping his head to finally kiss his lips again. The kiss is passionate and just on the right side of desperate, teeth knocking together in their eagerness, and Cas takes him by surprise yet again when he effortlessly flips Dean onto his back and straddles him.
He seriously doesn’t give Cas enough credit, and why is that one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to him?
Cas falls forward to rest on his hands as they bracket Dean’s head. He grinds his hips down and Dean lifts his own to increase the friction. It’s nowhere near enough and yet it’s all too much. Leaning down, Cas brings their lips together and everything is overstimulated and frantic and Dean is dizzy with how desperately he wants this, wants Cas, but he can’t breathe. He needs to breathe.
Dean draws his head back and puts a hand on Cas’s chest before Cas has the chance to dive in again.
“Woah woah woah. Cas, stop, hold on.”
Alarmed, Cas pushes himself up and looks down at Dean, still leaning on his arms but giving them plenty of space. Dean regrets the distance between them immediately.
“What’s wrong? What did I do?”
“Nothing. You didn’t do anything. You’re great. It’s just… is this what you want? I need to know that this is what you want.”
“Yes, Dean. I want this - I want you . Please.” His voice is wrecked.
“But… you haven’t wanted to before now and I just need to--”
Cas cuts him off with a hard kiss. “I know, but I’m sure now. I needed to be sure before and I am. Trust me.” Dean stares at him, searching for any sign of hesitation - he sees none. “Do you trust me, Dean?”
Dean nods. “Whatever you want, Cas. I’ll give you whatever you want, just say the word.”
“I want you” he repeats. “I want all of you and… and I never want to share. I want you for as long as you’ll have me.”
Everything inside of Dean crumbles. He isn’t sure how to handle the magnitude of emotions that are threatening to spill over, so he surges forward and grabs Cas by the back of the neck, bringing their mouths together again.
“I’m yours” he whispers, tipping their foreheads together and trying to communicate everything he feels through his touch alone.
Worries and hesitation behind them, they take their time, attentive and deliberate, exploring, worshiping one another in a delicate balance of give and take.
A few hours later, when they’re both sated and loose limbed, Dean relaxes into the mattress with Cas nestled in the crook of his arm, Cas’s head laying on his chest. Their balcony window is left open and they fall asleep together to the lullaby of crashing waves.
The last thought that enters Dean’s mind before sleep claims him is of the man in his arms and just how hard he’s falling for him. It’s happening fast and he inherently knows that after tonight, there’s no turning back.
When they return from Santa Barbara, Dean finds a sleepy Cas warming his bed almost every morning.
*****
The summer flies by all too quickly and the first major adjustment Dean and Castiel face in their relationship is the start of the new school year. Cas has been helping Dean for the past week and a half set up his classroom and shop for last minute supplies, and Dean has already been back and forth to the school attending the required faculty meetings. Classes are officially in session come Monday.
They’ve had a few conversations about the changes Dean’s new schedule will bring, and while they’re both disappointed that their carefree summer is coming to an end, they’re being carefully optimistic as Dean does a final check of his classroom to make sure that he’s ready - only one more weekend of freedom for teachers and students alike.
“You being at school all day will free up my time during the week, so if I work when you work, I should easily be able to keep most of my nights and weekends free,” Cas reasons.
“Not sure how I’m supposed to be expected to make it through each week knowing I’ve got to get through it to get to you,” Dean laughs, only partially joking.
Cas stops straightening the bookshelf that he’s been needlessly reorganizing for the past ten minutes to walk over to Dean, who’s adjusting the items on his desk for the hundredth time. He grabs Dean by the waist, stilling his hands.
“You don’t have to wait that long if you get impatient .” Cas grins and tries to wink. At least, that’s what Dean assumes his scrunched face is trying to accomplish.
He’s cute when he makes terrible innuendoes and can’t wink worth a damn.
“You offering to be my weeknight bootycall, Cas?”
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Mr. Winchester. ”
Cas has been getting a kick out of the idea of Dean being so formally addressed by his students and the faculty, but Cas is definitely not laughing right now, and the effect it’s having on Dean is downright inappropriate. “Cas, you can’t… that’s not… don’t do that.”
“Do what, Mr. Winchester?” Cas says as he uses his body weight to push Dean back against the desk, their bodies flush together.
Holy shit. So maybe Cas isn’t so bad with the sexy talk after all.
“Cas--” Dean pleads on a groan. “This is my classroom. There are teachers all over the place, fuck, it’s the middle of the afternoon.”
“Mmhmm. Yet that doesn’t really appear to be a problem.” He looks pointedly down at the bulge in Dean’s pants and then back up to catch the flush painting Dean’s cheeks and creeping right up to the tips of his ears.
“What are you doing to me?” He shudders, hardly able to control the desperation in his voice. “I can’t get fired before the school year even starts.”
Cas’s voice drops sinfully low. “Then I suggest you don’t get caught.” He punctuates each word quietly into Dean’s ear, warm breath tickling his neck as Cas slowly slides the zipper of his fly down.
Dean lets out an embarrassing little whine and nearly loses his balance, falling further back on the desk to catch himself, knocking over a cup full of pencils and his Star Wars figurines in the process.
Cas grabs him firmly by the front of his belt and yanks him upright again. “Mr. Winchester… might I suggest you start with locking the door?”
Dean can hardly make it to the door, but he manages it, Cas never taking his eyes off of him.
They end up leaving the school much later than they had expected, but one thing is for sure - Dean won’t ever look at his desk the same way again.
*****
On Sunday evening, the night before Dean’s school begins classes, Bobby and Ellen host a family dinner at their house. They haven’t all gotten together again since the last time, when they celebrated the Coast Roast review, each of them having settled into their own little worlds as summer wore down, and while Cas has at least briefly met everyone at this point, this is his first true family gathering and the first time spending any kind of significant amount of time with them.
As always, the food is delicious, the company is even better, and of course, everyone loves Castiel. Dean spends the entire night watching his boyfriend (they made the title offically official after Santa Barbara and Dean still gets a rush of affection every time he gets to use the term) interact with the people he loves most in this world. Seeing how Cas so effortlessly fits in with everyone causes warmth to bloom in his chest and it grows so big throughout the night that he thinks his heart might actually explode with it. Dean knows that he could never get serious with someone if his family didn’t approve, and although he wasn’t necessarily worried that anyone would have a problem with Cas, he finds relief in the confirmation nonetheless.
After dessert is served, Dean follows Ellen to the kitchen to help her with the cleanup and the dishes. They stand next to each at the sink, working together like they’ve done a thousand times before.
“So. Castiel.” Ellen says his name as if it’s a whole sentence in and of itself.
“Yeah.” Dean flushes, always amazed at how Ellen can say so much by saying almost nothing at all.
“I don’t think I need to tell you this, but I’m going to anyway; you’ve got something special there young man, and you best hold onto that with everything you’ve got.”
“I know and I will.”
“Well alright then.” She dries her hands with a dish towel before handing it over to Dean so he can do the same. She hugs him and kisses his cheek, then leans back and rubs at the spot she just kissed with her thumb, looking at him with motherly affection. “Now go on and get outta here. You’ve got a big day tomorrow, I’ll take care of the rest of this.”
“Thank you, Ellen.”
“Don’t mention it, kiddo. Now scoot.” She shoos him out of the kitchen and Dean doesn’t argue. He knows when Ellen means what she says, and besides, he agrees that it’s time he gets going anyway.
As he walks back towards the living room where everyone else is gathered, he sees Jo and Jess deep in conversation with Bobby, the rise and fall of their animated voices making clear their passion for whatever the topic might be. On the other side of the room are Sam and Cas. Sam’s back is to Dean, but he can see that Sam is nodding along with what Cas is saying to him. Dean enjoys watching their interaction, a particularly strong sense of contentment and satisfaction coming over him knowing that Sam especially gets along with Cas.
It only takes a moment before Cas’s eyes catch his across the room. When they do, Cas smiles wide and Sam turns to follow his gaze, shaking his head in a nearly imperceptible movement, one Dean would have missed if he didn’t know his brother so damn well.
Dean walks towards them. “Ready to head out?” he asks, throwing his arm around Cas’s shoulder and shooting Sam a cheeky grin in response to the look Sam gave him just seconds before.
“Ready when you are, sweetheart.”
Dean’s eyes grow wide at the use of the new nickname, but he decides instantly that he likes it. He really likes it. Sam laughs, which only encourages Dean to squeeze Cas’s shoulder a little tighter, kiss him on the neck, and use a nickname of his own.
“Alright then, Angel. Let’s go.”
They say their goodbyes, Sam clearly bursting at the seams with the need to mock Dean’s sappy joy but ultimately keeping his mouth shut, knowing full well he’d get reprimanded by every single person in that room. He’s a smart man, for once.
Dean drives Cas back to his apartment, both of them having agreed earlier in the day that Dean should probably focus on getting a good night’s sleep before his first full day back at work. They spend nearly thirty minutes saying goodnight in the Impala before Cas finally wishes him luck on the new school year and Dean is reluctantly driving away.
When he gets home, Dean brushes his teeth, packs his lunch for the next day, double-checks that he’s got everything else ready, and then crawls into bed. As he sets his alarm and settles in, only one thought occupies his mind - he misses his boyfriend. He knows he should get sleep and he knows that it’s not reasonable to expect to spend every night together, especially now that he’ll be back working regularly Monday through Friday, but the truth is, he’s gotten used to falling asleep next to Cas.
Trying not to dwell on the cold, empty space next to him, Dean managers to fall asleep.
The dream that visits this time is different. He’s in a new place he’s never seen before, a forest somewhere. He’s hunting something but he doesn’t know what it is until he traps it. When he approaches the creature he’s caught, he looks to see that it’s Cas. He’s got big, beautiful black wings, and like so many dreams before, he understands that Cas is an Angel, rare and something to be admired, not hunted. The guilt he feels for harming Cas is overwhelming, and in his dream state, he tries desperately to make things right. He dreams of meals cooked together in a quiet little cave, of snowball fights and of swims in a lake, of body paint and flowers, so very many flowers.
When he wakes, Dean can almost swear his pillow smells like lilacs.
*****
The week that follows is hectic, to say the least. It’s not that it’s a bad kind of hectic because he loves his students and is already certain that this is going to be a great year, but it’s mentally taxing and he’s exhausted in a way he hasn’t been in awhile. What makes it that much more difficult is that he hasn’t seen Cas all week. They saw each other for dinner Monday night as they had planned, but Cas had late meetings both Tuesday and Wednesday night that he couldn’t miss, and on Thursday night, Dean was talked into going out for drinks with some of the other teachers after work.
It’s Friday now and he’s on his way home, completely wiped. All he wants to do is get home, have a beer, order takeout, and lounge on his couch. He’d prefer to see Cas, but he sounded rushed and busy when Dean had called him on his lunch break and he’d said something about having to meet with an important client tonight. Cas had to hang up before he could elaborate.
He’s trying hard not to be dramatic as he trudges from his car to his front door, but he really hopes that this isn’t how things are going to be now - barely seeing Cas during the week and holding out hope for getting to spend some time together during the weekend, because it totally sucks.
When Dean unlocks the door to his apartment, he freezes.
He’s hit with the overwhelming aroma of apple pie. It doesn’t take him long to spot the pie on the bar of his kitchen, sitting right next to a beautiful bouquet of hydrangeas and… purple lilacs .
What the hell?
Still standing at the front door, Dean looks around his apartment and listens, but it appears to be empty. His heart is in his throat and his hands are shaking, his pulse beating so hard against his chest that he shudders on an inhale. This obviously has to be Cas’s doing, but it’s the lilacs that are throwing him off. He dreamt about them last night, he’s absolutely sure of it. This is… it’s weird, right? It’s… what is it?
Dean has gotten used to the little feelings of deja vu and the general familiarity he feels in the way Cas moves or laughs or looks at him, but those feelings have so far been associated with insignificant moments, allowing him to mostly brush them off. But this feels significant somehow. It feels important, profound.
He finally walks all the way inside, carefully shutting the door behind him. Even more than the pie, the flowers are drawing him in and he instinctually leans in and inhales their scent, his insides filling with an inexplicable sense of comfort. When he lifts his head again, he sees a small note slipped just under the glass vase.
Dean,
Congrats on your first week of classes!
I hope I’m not being too forward if I tell you that I very selfishly missed you this week. I wish I could be there to deliver these in person, but I wanted you to have something to come home to.
If you aren’t too terribly tired, can I take you to breakfast tomorrow? Text me (please).
~ Cas
PS. Sam let me in.
PPS. He made me tell you that. I wanted to leave you guessing.
PPPS. Ok. I see now how that might have been creepy.
He laughs at all the postscripts because it’s all just so Cas. Then he reads the note at least six times over, smiling wider with each reread.
Cas missed him. Cas missed him and thought about him and delivered him a pie and flowers . He’s never been given flowers before. His heart is absolutely soaring. He feels invincible, like he could do anything right now and succeed. Climb Mount Everest? No problem. Run a marathon? Absolutely. He could do it all, because Cas got him flowers.
Letting out a laugh, he digs for his phone in his pocket to text Cas.
DEAN : Dude wtf
DEAN : Have I ever told you about my awesome boyfriend? Cuz I’m pretty sure he’s a real life angel.
He watches his phone to see if the little dots show up that would indicate that Cas is typing something back, but nothing happens right away, so he switches tactics because he still feels giddy and anxious and he needs to talk to someone right this second . Just when he’s about to make a call, another text comes through.
SAM : You home yet?
DEAN : Yeah.
SAM : I didn’t give him a key, so don’t freak out. I let him in myself.
DEAN : I wasn’t freaking out.
SAM : Yeah ok. But seriously, don’t okay?
DEAN : I’m NOT. I’m actually really okay with it. Really.
DEAN : Thanks btw.
SAM : He really likes you ya know.
DEAN : Yeah I’m figuring that out.
SAM : I’m happy for you.
DEAN : Thanks
SAM : Whatever you do, DON’T EAT THAT WHOLE PIE FOR DINNER.
SAM : He put beer in the fridge too.
SAM : You should probably marry him.
SAM : Omg. I was kidding.
SAM : Seriously.
SAM : That was a joke.
SAM : Dean?
If it were any other person and any other relationship, Sam would be right and he’d be freaking out, but he’s not. He just feels warm and content and happy, but Sam doesn’t need to know any of that.
Dean sees Sam’s texts come through and he doesn’t mean to leave him hanging in the balance like that, but while Sam was sending him messages, Cas responded, so he’ll just let Sam stew a little bit. It’s funny anyway.
Cas tells Dean that he excused himself to the bathroom and is hiding out in a stall to send the messages. He doesn’t think he’ll make it back to his apartment until late tonight, but he wants to make sure breakfast plans are set, so they quickly make their arrangements and then Cas has to get back to his dinner meeting. When the conversation ends, Dean changes into sweatpants and an old t-shirt. He grabs a beer from the fridge, a fork, and sits down with the pie. Sammy doesn’t know what he’s talking about, pie is the perfect dinner.
*****
All that sugar might also have something to do with the very weird dream that follows. Dean is on a boat and he’s searching for Cas, lost in a maze of hallways and doorways and staircases. Finally finding the correct door, Dean rushes in and heads straight for Cas. They joyfully embrace but then suddenly Dean realizes that he’s soaking wet. He looks down and sees that he’s standing next to a tank full of water. That’s when he notices the tail.
Wait a second… Cas is… is he a mermaid?!
The dream feels like it goes on forever and while the details remain fuzzy, there is definitely some kind of explosion and swimming in the ocean, and a particularly interesting shower scene.
Yeah, he should really lay off that sugar.
*****
The next morning, Dean leaves to pick Cas up for their breakfast date. By this time, he knows his way around the apartment complex and surprises Cas by walking all the way to his door, knocking on it. When Cas opens it, the smile that spreads across his face doesn’t even have time to fully form before Dean lunges at him, throwing his arms around Cas’s shoulders and kissing him deeply, pouring everything he’s got into it. Cas’s arms naturally slip around his waist, pulling him closer. They stumble backwards into the apartment and they break apart with a laugh.
“What was that for?” Cas asks the question looking a little stunned at the greeting, his cheeks pink and his smile bright.
“You. And how amazing you are. And how I still can’t believe that you're mine.”
“I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even bake the pie myself and I wasn’t sure about the flowers and--”
“Cas.” Dean cuts him off. “Don’t do that, don’t put yourself down like that. It was the perfect end to my week.” He takes his hand and cups Cas’s face, wanting to make sure Cas is listening to his words. “Actually, that’s a lie. It would have been even more perfect if you had been there, but we can make up for that this weekend. You have the weekend free, right?”
Cas looks at him with admiration. “I’m all yours the whole weekend.”
“See? Perfect.” Dean leans in for another kiss, then grabs Cas by the hand to drag him out of the apartment. “Come on, I’m starving.”
“Really? I thought for sure you would have had a slice of pie before you came to pick me up.”
“Yeah, see, normally I would have, but uh, I might have accidentally eaten the whole thing last night for dinner.”
“Mr. Winchester!”
Dean’s laugh echoes down the hallway and Cas can’t help but laugh right along with him.
After breakfast, they stop at a bookstore, Cas wanting to pick up a few books. They end up wandering the shelves for nearly an hour, but Dean doesn’t complain once, even finding a few things for himself along the way. They then decide on what to cook for dinner that night and make a quick list before stopping off at the grocery store on the way back to Dean’s apartment.
Once inside, they put the groceries away as Dean continues to ramble on about his new students and how the first week went, Cas asking all the right questions and staying engaged without ever losing focus. He’s in the middle of putting away the tomatoes after having washed them in the sink when he looks up to find Cas starting at him.
“What? Did I spill something?”
“No, I just really enjoy watching how passionate you get about your work. It’s very sexy.”
“Sexy, huh?” He places the tomatoes down and walks over to Cas, running his hands down the front of Cas’s chest. He kisses Cas long and slow, taking his time, Cas’s hands coming to rest on his hips as he’s backed up against the counter. By the time they break apart, they’re both flushed and breathing heavily.
“You know,” Dean says as he brings their foreheads together, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you this week. Every time my brain had a free moment to spare, and even a few times when it didn’t, I would see my desk and all I could think about was you.”
“Dean...” Cas breathes Dean’s name like the very word is oxygen itself. He dips back in for another kiss, the two of them rocking against one another, hands sliding under shirts and searching for skin. Without preamble, Dean lifts Cas up the few inches it takes to push him up onto the counter, Cas’s legs moving to wrap around Dean’s waist and drawing him closer, their lips never parting.
Cas grabs Dean’s shirt and begins to yank it over his head when there’s a loud thud at the front door. The banging can hardly constitute as a knock before the door flies open.
“I PASSED THE BAR! I FUCKING PASSED THE BAR EXAM. DEAN! I PASSED!”
Dean doesn’t know if he wants to kill Sammy or hug the crap out of him. Probably both.
Definitely both.
Chapter Text
It’s October when Dean and Cas have their first fight.
The school year is in full swing and Cas has been working more hours than usual, picking up several additional freelance jobs on top of his hectic editing schedule. He told Dean that he wanted to use the extra income to put aside into a savings account since he had all but completely depleted his savings with his move to California after his breakup with Mick. Dean felt like there might have been more to that story, but he didn’t push for details because he wasn’t quite sure Cas was willing to share them. They are usually quite candid with each other, but every time his ex is mentioned, Dean gets the feeling that Cas is holding back.
It’s Thursday and Dean’s had a particularly rough week; a couple of his students are struggling with issues that are beyond the reach of the classroom curricular and completely out of his control, making him feel helpless, and a few others are simply busting his balls for no particular reason other than that they’re teenagers and it’s what they do (Bobby doesn’t hesitate to smugly remind him that this is karma coming back to kick his ass for all the stupid shenanigans he used to pull as a teen). But worst of all, he was notified this afternoon that his repeated request for school funding for new books was denied… again. He’s been teaching the same tired course from decrepit books and materials for years on end, and he’s been fighting like mad since last year to get the funding to revamp his course, making it more relevant to today’s youth. He’d really love to add a fantasy novel to the curriculum, but the answer is always the same - there’s not enough funding and it’s just not in the budget right now. Dean could scream.
Feeling utterly defeated, he walks through his front door stressed out and desperately looking forward to the weekend. All he wants to do is get comfortable, open a beer, order take-out, and watch a movie with Cas as soon as he gets here, an arrangement they made together earlier in the day during a rushed conversation over Dean’s lunch period.
About an hour later, Cas walks in the door using his own key (something Dean gave him in a sweet, private moment they shared after Sam’s party for passing the Bar). His shoulders sag as he carelessly drops his bag by the front door, letting out a heavy sigh. Dean greets him, but he hardly gets more than a grunt in response.
Having come straight from work, Cas heads to the bathroom, mumbling something about needing to clean up. When he emerges after several minutes, Dean is sitting on the couch and aimlessly flipping through his phone. Cas takes a seat on the opposite side, no kiss hello or even so much as a friendly pat on the shoulder.
Dean has picked up on the fact that Cas has been a little off lately, more irritable than normal. He’s mostly let it slide because he knows that one of Cas’s projects got pushed up and he’s been worried about meeting its deadline, but Cas seems particularly touchy tonight. Despite dealing with his own frustrations, Dean gets the feeling that he should tread lightly here. Hell, he’s just happy to have Cas in the same room as him after not seeing each other all week, so he can cut his boyfriend a little slack.
“You hungry?” Dean asks. “I don’t have the energy to cook tonight.”
“Oh, so you just expected me to do it?” Cas bites back, his unwarranted hostility taking Dean by surprise.
“What? No, of course not. I was planning on ordering in. Any special requests?”
“I don’t care. Pick whatever.” Cas gets out his own phone and starts typing away at it, presumably answering emails and definitely avoiding eye contact.
“Hey, you okay over there? Rough day?” Dean reaches across the couch with his foot and nudges Cas’s knee, receiving a glare of annoyance as Cas pointedly moves his leg out of Dean’s reach.
“Just order whatever you want.”
“Alright, fine. You good with pizza?” Keeping his words steady, he tries not to let Cas’s bad attitude further affect his already souring mood.
“Yeah.” Cas’s answer is clipped and dismissive as he gets up with a frustrated grunt to get his laptop from his bag, deciding to work from that instead of his phone. He sits down and begins aggressively hitting the keys as he types. Dean let’s it go, ordering the pizza using an app on his phone and turning on the TV.
They sit in silence until the pizza arrives. Dean answers the door and then gets everything situated, grabbing them both a plate and setting everything on the coffee table in front of the couch.
He grabs his first slice, but Cas doesn’t even look up from his laptop. Dean waits a few minutes before he decides to say something, feeling himself getting progressively more annoyed at Cas’s standoffish indifference.
“Hey Cas, you gonna eat, or what?”
“I’m not in the mood for pizza.”
“You’re not in the...? Then why the hell did you have me order it?!” He angrily tosses his slice onto his plate and turns away from the TV to face Cas whose head is still down, Dean now feeling the tension seep under his skin. “Hey, what’s your fucking problem, huh?”
Slamming his laptop shut, Cas glares at Dean. He opens his mouth several times to speak, but it’s like he doesn’t know what to say, and Dean’s patience wears down as Cas’s face works through whatever emotions he’s trying to sort out.
“Just spit it out already! It’s not like you’re the only one who’s had a bad day, okay? I don’t know why you even bothered coming over if you were just going to be a dick the whole time.”
Cas’s face falls and he looks hurt, but just as Dean thinks he made a mistake and should take it back and apologize, Cas sets his jaw and turns angry. “You know what, forget it. I’m leaving.” He stands up and moves towards the front door, forcefully shoving his laptop back in his bag.
“Are you kidding me right now? You’re the one acting like a jerk!” Dean is standing now, voice raised.
“Oh, I’m sorry! Am I ruining your precious evening of cheap beer and shitty television?!” Cas shouts back. “Please, forgive me for not dropping everything to eat the goddamn pizza.” His voice drips with sarcasm and it grates at Dean’s nerves.
“Wow. You’re exhausting, you know that? Here I was just thinking we could spend the evening together, but clearly you have better things to do.”
“Well if I’m so exhausting , then why the fuck am I even here?! What are you doing with me anyway!?”
There’s a tension filled pause, both of them waiting for the other to say something, the air thick with uncertainty. Dean is frozen in silence, not quite comprehending the meaning behind Cas’s words. When no one says anything, Cas reaches for the door handle.
“I’m going home. Enjoy your fucking pizza.” With that, he storms out, slamming the door behind him, leaving Dean standing alone in his living room, stunned.
What the fuck just happened?
Twenty minutes later, the pizza is still lying on the table uneaten. Dean is pacing the living room, unable to decide which emotion to focus on, but it looks like anger is taking the first round.
How dare Cas just walk out on him. What’s his deal, anyway? Dean didn’t do anything wrong. And if this was about the stupid pizza, then he should have just said something. He’s an adult, he can speak up! Yeah, this is definitely Cas’s fault.
But then why does he feel so shitty?
It’s not long before guilt starts to eat away at him instead, edging out the hostility and making his stomach twist into uncomfortable knots. Maybe he was too harsh on Cas. Cas had specifically explained that he was under a lot of pressure from work, so maybe he should have just left Cas alone. Better yet, he should have just tried harder, asked him if he needed help, or maybe just not have been so damn lazy and cooked them up a couple of burgers or something. Cas loves Dean’s burgers.
Fuck. He fucked up.
Finally swallowing that lump of pride that refused to let him chase after Cas the second the door slammed, Dean picks up his phone and dials Cas’s number.
Straight to voicemail. Fuckfuckfuck.
Dean tries his number no less than fifteen more times throughout the course of the night, along with sending off several text messages and at least one voicemail, all of them asking him to please call me.
A response never comes, and when Dean finally lays down in his bed, he feels sick. He just wants to talk to Cas, wants to sort this all out and not feel so worried or scared anymore. Jesus, he’s actually scared . Cas wasn’t trying to break up with him, right? That’s absurd. That couldn’t really be what he meant. No way. Dean’s sure that wasn’t it… but then poking at the back of his mind is that tiny sliver of doubt that feels like a stabbing pain in his heart.
Desperate, he calls Cas one more time. No answer. He considers, and not for the first time tonight, just driving over to Cas’s apartment, but he figures that if Cas was upset enough to turn off his phone, then he probably wants to be left alone. Dean feels like he should respect that, but part of him also thinks he should ignore it. He just doesn’t know the right answer here and it really fucking sucks.
Maybe if he just goes to sleep, things will be clearer tomorrow. Yeah. That sounds like the best option. Sleep now and figure it all out tomorrow.
Restless and anxious, he tosses and turns in his sleep, finding no comfort in the dream to follow.
This dream is dark and ominous. Dean is surrounded by a wooded wasteland and he feels constantly on guard. There is movement in his peripheral vision and he catches glimpses of unidentifiable creatures. They are stalking him, hunting him. He can’t find Cas. He prays and he yells and he searches and then he prays again, begging for Cas to come back to him. He doesn’t like this place. It’s not where they belong.
His voice hoarse from calling Cas’s name, he trudges his way through more trees and brush, eventually turning into a small clearing by a river, and there’s Cas, looking as ragged and worn down as he feels. They continue on together, the creatures never giving them a reprieve, always fighting for their survival. Then, on top of a hill is a glowing light, a beacon, and somehow Dean knows that that’s the way home. He grabs Cas by the hand and they try to escape.
Dean makes it through to the other side. Cas doesn’t.
Dean wakes an hour before his alarm is set to go off, covered in sweat, calling out Cas’s name as he’s jerked back into consciousness.
God, he feels worse off than before. Rubbing at his face to clear the sleep from his eyes, he frantically fumbles for his phone, silently begging for a message from Cas. There’s nothing.
He drags himself into the shower, letting the hot water and steam relax him as best as possible. Placing his hands out in front for support, he leans against the shower wall, head hanging low, stretching his spine, and he realizes he’s shaking. At the same time, his stomach growls, reminding him that he never ate more than a few bites of food last night. He wasn’t hungry after Cas left and he still doesn’t think he can eat even now.
Dean eventually makes it to school, distracted and disoriented. He tried calling Cas before he left for work, but it went straight to voicemail again, causing panic to bubble up behind his ribs. The feeling hasn’t subsided in the slightest and he just wishes he could have stayed home, but that wasn’t an option considering it would have been more trouble than it was worth to try and find a substitute to cover his classes at the last minute.
He’s at the front of his class and going through the motions when he notices his phone light up on his desk from across the room. Trying not to appear too frantic and hoping to avoid his students realizing what he’s doing, Dean makes his way to his desk. When he looks down to see that he just missed a call from Cas, he instructs his students to silently finish the chapter they’re reading and steps outside. It’s completely unprofessional of him, but he doesn’t care. He has to talk to Cas right now, has to hear his voice and make sure everything’s okay.
Cas picks up on the first ring.
“Hello, Dean.” He sounds defeated, his voice rough and miserable, just like Dean feels.
“Cas? I’ve been calling you all night.” The words aren’t meant to be accusatory and he hopes to the heavens above that Cas understands that.
“I know. I um… Dean, listen--”
“Wait. Stop.” He takes a shuddering breath and wipes a hand across his face to steady himself before he continues. “Cas, if you're about to... if you’re gonna… whatever you’re about to do, just don’t. Please. I have a classroom full of students and I just can’t. Can we talk when I get home? Please?”
“You wanna talk?” Cas sounds surprised, hopeful even, and Dean is confused by the response.
“You don’t?”
“Yes! I do. I just didn’t think… hold on, you’re in class right now? Dean, why are you on the phone with me?”
“Because it’s you , Cas. I’ve been worried all night, so yeah, of course I answered the damn phone.”
At least Cas is considerate enough to sound regretful for putting Dean in this position as they make quick plans to meet back at his apartment later tonight. When they hang up, Dean breathes a little easier and focuses on getting through the rest of the day.
Eventually, he does get through it. The minute his last class ends, he’s packing up and racing home, cringing when he opens the door. The room smells stale, the uneaten pizza still sitting on the coffee table next to a couple of empty beer bottles. He quickly straightens up the living room, sprays some Febreeze on the couch, and opens a window, hoping it will freshen the room a bit, and then he cleans. Dean is nervous and so he takes it out on the kitchen counter tops, the kitchen and coffee table surfaces, and he even starts a load of laundry. He needs to keep himself busy; otherwise, all he’ll do is think about what Cas wants to say to him, and he’s not sure he’s ready to hear it.
It’s nearly two more hours before Cas knocks on his front door - he doesn’t use his key.
Dean’s heart jumps from behind his ribs and into his throat. He slowly approaches the door, rubbing his clammy hands against his jeans before he reaches for the handle and opens it.
Cas is standing on the other side and he looks dishevelled, bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept and his hair a mess, although that last one isn’t really anything new.
They stand there for a moment, seemingly both unsure of what to do or what to say. Finally, Cas drops his shoulders and hangs his head.
“I’m so sorry, Dean. I’m sorry.” Dean thinks he’s about to say more, but all that follows is a shaky exhale.
“Shit, Cas. Come here.” He steps forward and wraps his arms around Cas in a tight hug. Cas remains rigid for a moment, but he quickly relaxes into the embrace and bring his arms up to return the gesture, laying his forehead on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, too,” he whispers. “Come on, let’s get inside.”
Cas willingly follows him through the door and they head straight for the couch. He doesn’t mean to blurt out what follows; hell, he fully intended to let Cas speak first, but he needs to clear the air as soon as possible and the words tumble out before he can think to stop himself.
“Are you here to break this off? I just need to know.”
Cas’s eyes that had been intently staring down at the coffee table snap up to meet Dean’s, wide as ever. “What? No!” Cas frantically shakes his head in emphasis. “I don’t… I was… I thought you were gonna...”
Dean laughs, he can’t help himself against the flood of relief he’s been holding out for. Cas looks as bewildered as he’s felt since last night and the amount of hurt in his eyes tells Dean all he needs to know.
“Hell no, Cas. That thought didn’t even cross my mind.” He wipes a hand across his face. “Fuck. We really are a couple of dumbasses, huh?”
And finally, finally , Cas smiles. It’s been days since he’s seen that smile and it might be the most beautiful thing Dean’s ever seen in his entire life, and he missed it.
When Cas smiles, it’s an experience all in itself, his entire demeanor shifts and it’s like he shines from the inside out - it glows through his eyes and Dean feels like he can see the entire world reflected back at him. There’s absolutely nothing else like it and he knows, without a doubt, that he wants to see Cas smile like that again… and again and again and again. Forever. He wants the whole universe to feel the warmth of it, yet wants to keep it for himself, to tuck it away like a secret never to be shared.
Comforted by the fact that his panic and fear was all for nothing, he leans forward and gives Cas a kiss, and although they linger for a moment, they keep it short and sweet, both of them knowing that they still have some things to figure out.
Dean grabs them a couple of beers and they order in pizza, Cas embarrassingly admitting that he’s been craving it since yesterday and insisting that he owes it to Dean to have a do-over of last night’s dinner.
Their conversation is lighthearted at first, but grows increasingly serious when they inevitably begin to discuss relationship stuff, the importance of it not lost on either of them, but both too afraid to acknowledge it. They speak freely and without hostility or judgement as they talk about everything from hopes and expectations to fears and reasons why they believe their past relationships didn’t quite work out.
It’s with that latter topic that Dean finally comes to understand Charlie’s warning from all those months ago - he’s more fragile than he’s letting on.
Cas takes his time admitting to Dean the darker and more disconcerting parts of his relationship with Mick. The information isn’t particularly revolutionary or graphic, but listening to how Cas clearly wasn’t valued or cared for causes Dean’s heart to drop into the pit of his stomach. Cas confesses that he didn’t see it all clearly for what it was until the relationship was already over, but coming to understand how Cas’s last relationship ultimately affected his self worth, and how he’s since been burdened with the consequences of those insecurities breaks something inside of Dean. He keeps his cool and let’s Cas speak at his own pace, but the anger and resolve churns inside of him, building and festering until he’s left with the desperate desire and need to protect . No one will ever hurt Cas like that again, not if he has anything to do with it.
“It’s just that I’ve been afraid for a while now. This thing with you has been good, almost too good, and I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to figure out I’m not worth any of this.” Cas’s voice is painfully timid, riddled with uncertainty.
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that you’re not worth it, Cas.” Dean’s heart physically aches at hearing his words. He wants to comfort him, to heal him from the scars of his past, but he doesn’t know how, so he settles for a squeeze to Cas’s knee. Cas accepts the gesture and places a hand on top of his, squeezing back.
“But it’s true. It’s why I’ve been so hesitant and distant with you lately, especially last night. I’ve been trying so hard to do things right this time, to give you what you need, but always convinced that it’s never enough. It’s so conflicting and I haven’t been handling it very well, clearly.”
Dean’s heard enough, already fighting back something akin to nausea settling in his gut. Has Cas actually been worried about displeasing him? As if Dean could possibly find him unworthy and want to leave?
“Cas, listen to me carefully, okay? Hey, look at me.” Cas finally looks up to meet Dean’s eyes, sadness written all over his face. “Stop trying to reconcile your past by giving me what you think your exes wanted, because those guys? They didn’t want you, not the real you, but I do. I want you, Cas. And look, I’m not saying we’re never gonna disagree or piss each other off, because that’s definitely going to happen, but we get it out and then we move on, together.”
“You really mean that?” Cas’s eyes glisten with unshed tears.
“Of fucking course I do. And you want to know what else? I think your exes, and anyone else who’s ever passed you up, are total douchebags for not seeing how lucky they were just to know you.” He holds eye contact, willing Cas to believe what he’s saying.
“I don’t deserve you, Dean.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. So utterly and completely wrong.” Dean is desperate for him to understand, gently taking his face in his hands and rubbing Cas’s cheeks with his thumbs. “You deserve the best. You deserve someone who is going to value you and fight for you and take care of you. You deserve someone who’s going to love… someone who loves you with everything they have.”
“Dean?”
Dean swallows against the tears building behind his eyes and the lump in his throat that’s threatening to choke off his next words. He hasn’t quite acknowledged it out loud to himself yet, but he knows he’s been falling in love with Cas for awhile. He wasn’t expecting to say the words right now , but here they are. He can’t take them back. He doesn’t want to.
“Like I said, it’s exactly what you deserve and, if you’ll let me, I will try every single day to be the man to give that to you. I love you, Cas. I swear I loved you before I ever even knew you and I know that doesn’t make any sense, but--”
“I love you, too.” Cas cuts him off, all too eager to return the sentiment.
“Yeah?”
“Yes. I love you, Dean.”
As the words are leaving his lips, Cas is launches himself across the couch at Dean, taking Dean’s face in his large, strong hands and kissing him until they both need to come up for air.
Lips tender and cheeks sufficiently rubbed red by their scruff, they eventually make their way to the bedroom, whispered I love you’s repeated over and over again, neither one of them able to get enough.
*****
After they’ve exhuasted themselves by going two rounds (Dean insisting that the first round was for make-up sex and the second round for celebration sex), they find that they’re more hungry than they are tired. Dean runs back out to the living room to grab the box of now-cold pizza and they eat it in bed, enjoying nothing but each other’s company.
“So, am I staying over tonight?” Cas’s voice is hopeful, yet there’s still an uncertainty there that Dean wants nothing more than to destroy with all the power of Thor’s hammer, but he supposes it will take time.
“You think I’d really let you leave my bed after the night we’ve just had? You’re staying. Tomorrow night, too, if I have anything to say about it. I don’t really feel like letting you go any time soon.” He nuzzles at Cas’s neck with the tip of his nose as he swallows his last bite of pizza crust.
Cas smiles fondly at him and he looks beautiful, all naked and satisfied tangled up in Dean’s sheets. How he got so lucky, he’ll never know.
“In that case, I need to run out to my car. In the hope that we worked things out, I packed a bag and left it in my trunk.”
“Noooo, don’t leave me,” Dean whines, wrapping himself around Cas’s body trying to keep him in place. “I have an extra toothbrush and we’re definitely going to sleep naked, so what else do you even need?”
Cas kisses him on the forehead but wiggles free and crawls out of the bed, hopping back into his trousers. “I’ll be quick, I promise. There’s something I need to grab.” Throwing on the first t-shirt he finds, which happens to be Dean’s, he leans over to give Dean one more quick kiss before hurrying out the door.
Dean takes that time to drag himself out of bed and wash up, throwing on a pair of sweatpants, a light chill in the air. He brushes his teeth, straightens the sheets, and picks his clothes up off the floor. He’s tired, downright exhausted, but his entire body and mind is buzzing.
He loves Cas .
He really fucking loves him, and the feeling is almost more than he can handle. How did it even happen? He was living his life just fine and along comes this blue-eyed, messy-haired vision of a man who flipped everything on its head and has shaken him to his core. Cas has settled into Dean’s world so thoroughly that he swears the empty pieces of himself were made specifically for Cas, that he’s been waiting just for him his entire life.
The more he thinks about it, the crazier it all seems. Everything about Cas is unreal - how they randomly met, how they found each other time and again in this big city, and how everything just feels so right when they’re together. Nothing has ever been as easy as falling in love with Cas. This is all Dean’s wanted for so long, and now that he’s found it, he never wants to let it go. To think of what he wouldn’t do for Cas scares him a little. Cas could ask him right here and now for absolutely anything, and Dean knows he wouldn’t say no.
And the dreams . He doesn’t even know where to begin with those, and for that reason he generally tries not to think too much about what they might mean. He’s never experienced anything like it before. In fact, he used to never dream at all, his subconscious a quiet and peaceful place, but that’s the other thing - the dreams don’t always feel subconscious. They’ve become more and more realistic as they’ve evolved, as he’s gotten closer to Cas, even the ones that are more science fiction than they are logical. Like mermaids and angels? Seriously? Regardless, he wakes up half the time with the images and emotions of the dream frighteningly clear in his mind. It doesn’t make any sense, but if he’s honest, really honest, the dreams feel more like long forgotten memories . But that’s ridiculous. Right? It’s not possible, and yet…
Cas walks back in the front door, closing and locking it, effectively shaking Dean from his wandering thoughts. When he looks down, he realizes what he’s been doing while his mind was otherwise occupied - he’s emptied one of his dresser drawers - yet another space in his life for Cas to walk into and fill.
Back in the bedroom now, Cas puts down his duffel bag and he’s wearing a shy grin on his face. He looks nervous, Dean now able to pick up on subtle way his lip quirks when he has something to say but isn’t quite sure of himself.
“Get what you needed?”
“Yes.” His grin twists into a confused frown when he notices Dean awkwardly standing in the middle of the room for no reason that would be obvious to Cas. “Is everything okay?”
“I got you a drawer,” he blurts out, leaning over to pull open the now empty dresser drawer, holding out his hands in proud presentation.
Cas’s face lights up. “Really!?” The genuine excitement as he inspects the space makes Dean feel warm all over.
“All yours. I’ll clear one in the bathroom for you, too, and we can head to Target this weekend and get you doubles of your toothbrush and deodorant and all that shit so you can just keep it here. This way, you can stop worrying about the stupid duffel bag and you’ll never have to leave me alone and naked in bed again.” A cheeky grin lifts the side of his face as he slips his arm around Cas’s waist pulling him in.
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” Cas kisses his cheek.
“I try. Now why don’t you get that fine ass back in bed and I’ll go grab us some water.”
Dean leaves to get them two bottles of water and a handful of treats, mostly Halloween candy that he has no intention of actually saving until Halloween. When he gets back to the bedroom, Cas is sitting at the edge of his bed with his phone, tapping away at it. He glances up when he sees Dean enter the room and he just looks so happy .
“I’m making a list of the toiletries I’ll want to keep here and a few of the things I’ll get from home. Since you’ve made it clear that we’ll be naked tonight, I’ve already put my pajamas in the drawer and—“
Dean approaches the bed and carelessly drops the contents in his arms on top of the comforter. He turns and takes Cas’s face in his two hands, his palms bracketing Cas’s jaw, and he leans down, cutting off his words and kissing him hard.
“God, I love you, Cas.” He holds their gaze, wanting Cas to see the honesty in his eyes, to know that he means those words, and that Cas deserves them.
Not yet ready to let go, he leans in for another kiss, Cas’s hands coming to rest behind his neck, holding him in place, holding him like he’s something precious. Dean breathes him in, and when they break apart, he tips their foreheads together just to steal an extra moment to gain back his composure.
“I love you, too,” Cas whispers back, sounding like he’s trying just as hard as Dean is to keep control of his emotions.
Finally, Dean stands up. “I’m happy that you like your drawer, and tomorrow, we’ll get anything you need. Now, let’s get back in bed.”
“Wait a sec.” Cas stops him, gently squeezing his wrist, the nervousness returning to his voice.
Dean takes the hint and sits on the bed next to him, patiently waiting for him to continue. Cas takes a deep breath.
“When I was upset yesterday, when I thought I had ruined everything…” Dean takes Cas’s hand to reassure him. “I called my brother.”
“Which one?”
“Gabriel. He said a lot of things that weren’t really helpful at all, to be honest, but we did get to talking and, well, he gave me an idea.” Cas stands up, Dean releasing his hand, and walks over to pick something up off the top of the dresser. He comes back and sits facing Dean, one leg tucked under him. “Here. Open it.” He holds out an envelope and Dean takes it, unsure of what to expect. Opening it as instructed, he pulls out two slips of paper.
“What is this?”
“They’re plane tickets. Well, vouchers, actually.” Dean looks up at him in question, Cas picking at an invisible spot on the bottom hem of the trousers he’s still wearing, clearly worried about what he’s preparing to say next. “I was hoping that you’d consider spending Thanksgiving with me. In Chicago.”
Dean’s unsure of what to say. Cas has never expressed interest in going back to Chicago, although it would only make sense because Cas’s brothers still live out there, and he must still have friends there, too. Come to think of it, Cas hardly ever even mentions Chicago and Dean is pretty sure he’s never talked about anyone else aside from Gabriel and Michael. He begins to berate himself for never asking more about it, but as he does so, Cas misreads his silence for indifference.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. It was just an idea. It was stupid. Nevermind. We can use the tickets on something else or we can--”
“I’d love to, Cas.” Cas’s eyes snap up to meet his.
“You would?”
“Yeah, absolutely! You just surprised me is all, but of course I want to. There’s no part of you that doesn’t interest me, and that includes all of your pre-California years.”
Cas is looking down and fidgeting with the hem of his pants again, so Dean reaches up and squeezes his shoulder. He understands now that Cas is going to need time - time to feel confident in his self-worth again, time to accept all the things that Dean is willing to offer, and time to understand that he matters - and Dean will be right here, providing reassurance and support and love every step of the way.
“That really means a lot to me. Thank you.”
“You never have to thank me for caring about you, Cas. Now… can we get back in bed please? I’m beginning to get jealous of your clothes and all the skin they’re touching and that just ain’t right.” He kisses Cas’s forehead, jumps up, and holds his hand out for Cas to take, pulling him up off the bed so they can pull back the covers.
They quickly strip down again and slip into the cotton linens. The earlier warmth of their bodies having long dissipated, the sheets are cool, so Dean uses it as an excuse to pull Cas close and snuggle up to him as much as he possibly can.
“Mmmmm… so warm. You’re like my personal heater. You’ll be great in the winter.”
“Does California even have a winter?” Cas laughs and curls into Dean, limbs tangling.
“Shhhh. It doesn’t matter. Besides, it’ll be cold as fuck in Chicago, so plan on me stealing all your body heat.”
Dean smiles into Cas’s hair and kisses the top of his head as Cas laughs at him, amused. They settle in and get comfortable, Dean relaxing onto his back with Cas curling into his side, laying his head on Dean’s chest and throwing a leg over the top of his thighs. They’re just about to drift off.
“Hey Cas?”
“Hmmmm?”
“If we’re going to Chicago, there’s something you should really know.”
“What’s that?”
“I really hate flying”
*****
Dean falls asleep with Cas nestled against him, still gripping him tightly, as if Cas is holding on for dear life, never wanting to let him go. Dean knows the feeling.
Finally settled into the comfort of sleep, another dream rolls in and envelopes his subconscious like a heavy, warm blanket.
Dean starts out feeling lonely, lost, and heartbroken. Something is missing and he knows it, but he can’t quite figure out what it is. Taking note of his surroundings, Dean sees that he’s sitting at a piano bench on a small stage and he’s… singing? It’s a song that’s beautiful in its simplicity, a tune of hopeful melancholy, and it makes his chest ache. His fingers dance seamlessly across the keys as he sings about a lover’s secret, a place only they know.
He’s bathed in a bright light and everything else is fuzzy. As the song continues, he tries to bring the room into better focus. He can see that he’s in a bar, can practically taste the smell of beer in the air. Across the room there’s a figure moving behind the counter and Dean holds his breath with eager anticipation, expecting to find a pair of sapphire blue eyes, but his heart sinks when he notices that the man isn’t who he’s looking for. The stranger gives him a familiar, knowing smile, but it feels all wrong. Something isn’t right. That man doesn’t belong in his bar.
Suddenly, the music distorts and the setting shifts. Dean is now standing in the middle of the same bar, surrounded by people he recognizes. There’s Ellen and Bobby, and Sam, of course, and even Charlie and Jo are there. Everyone is happy and laughing and he laughs right along with them, but he feels empty inside, disjointed and detached.
Then the front doors open.
In walks Cas and Dean’s world shifts yet again. They see each other across the room and when their eyes finally meet, it’s as though all the broken pieces of himself fall back into place. His very next breath feels like coming home.
In a blink, the two of them are alone and standing hand in hand in the living room of a huge house, looking through a wall of windows and out onto a lake just beyond the property, a fire roaring in the stone fireplace next to them. This has to be the most amazing home Dean has ever seen and it’s theirs .
Dean looks down at his right hand, the one tightly gripping Castiel’s left. There’s a ring on Cas’s finger and the joy that radiates through his entire body is undeniable. He looks back up at Cas again and Cas is smiling at him, wide and bright and beautiful.
And just like that, Dean sees his future as clear as it has ever been.
The lines between dreams and reality may blur for him sometimes, but awake or asleep, he knows with every fiber of his being that he’s not wrong about this: he’s going to marry this man someday. He wants to build his home with Cas, his whole life, and nothing has ever felt so absolutely certain to him.
Cas is it. He’s everything.
Chapter Text
Thanksgiving ends up a complete disaster.
It all started with the flight. Actually, it started before they even boarded the plane. It was a few days before Thanksgiving Day, one of the busiest travel times of the year, and LAX was an absolute zoo. Their flight was delayed three times and they were stuck in the airport for several hours, which only allowed more time for Dean’s anxiety to fester to the point of boiling over. More than once Dean thought how the zoo metaphor was aptly accurate considering that he felt wound up and on edge, like a caged animal itching to be released and ready to snap.
Dean had tried to warn Cas just how much he hated flying, but either he inadvertently downplayed reality a bit too much, or Cas severely underestimated him; either way, it wasn’t pleasant. He attempted to self soothe with alcohol, which seemed to work for a short time, until they hit turbulence. Dean refuses to talk about the rest.
Gabriel met them at their gate at O’Hare, despite Cas’s prior insistence that they would be better off heading straight for a hotel to give Dean some time to recover in dignity. From there, Gabriel’s incessant banter and intrusive personality didn’t mix with Dean’s weak stomach and raw nerves, so they didn’t exactly hit it off.
Things eventually cooled down, Dean warming up to Gabriel after a while (the guy requires an excessive amount of patience, not unlike teenagers in middle school, coincidentally). Once the jetlag and the nerves wore off, Gabe took them to a brewery and out for some deep dish pizza, and when they started swapping embarrassing little brother stories, much to Cas’s annoyance, the trip began looking up… until Thanksgiving dinner.
They’d all been invited to have dinner with Cas’s other brother, Michael, and his wife, Hester, as well as Gabriel and his last minute date whose name has already been forgotten. Cas spoke to Dean about Michael on the plane, but he had either been too drunk or feeling too sick to have paid much attention. He wished he had, though, because maybe he would have been better prepared for the shitshow that followed.
Michael was a cold and arrogant piece of work, and his wife wasn’t any better. They were judgmental and pretentious and they made Dean feel insignificant in a way that he hadn’t felt since he was a child, but what truly upset Dean, what made him radiate with anger, was the way Michael spoke to Cas. It was consistent little jabs here and there, condescending remarks and spiteful asides. Dean watched as Gabriel unsuccessfully tried to break the mounting tension with humor, all while Cas grew quieter and more closed off as Michael continued to play the role of autocratic older brother to the delight and amusement of his own wife.
Dean can’t even remember the specific comment that made him lose his patience and thus his temper. It probably wasn’t even the worst thing that Michael had said that night, but in a moment of clarity, all the stories Cas had shared about his childhood made sense. Although he was loathe to admit it, Dean had also gotten a glimpse of Mick’s Cas - the Cas that had been pushed around and mistreated, the Cas that was made to believe he wasn’t worth the same love and kindness he so readily gave to others.
So Dean snapped.
Dean gave Michael a piece of his mind, said things that were certainly not acceptable at a dinner table, and even less appropriate to be directed at his host, but he didn’t care. He took Cas by the hand and led him out the door, refusing to allow either of them to be subjected to such intentional condemnation. Neither one of them looked back.
Once outside, Cas, who hadn’t said a word since Dean went off on Michael, ran them a short distance right to the water’s edge of Lake Michigan, never letting go of Dean’s hand. When they stopped, he was breathing hard and he was laughing. Dean had looked on in satisfaction, until the laughter gave way to tears.
“Fuck.” Cas smiled through his tears, but it was bitter and disbelieving. “Never in my entire life have I heard anyone talk to Michael the way you just did.”
“I’m so sorry, Cas. That asshole had it coming, but I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have said those things. I lost my t--”
Cas kissed him then, long and hard.
“No one has ever stood up for me the way you just did, either. Please don’t apologize for that, not ever.”
They stood there kissing in the bitter cold of the evening until Dean couldn’t feel his ears and Cas began to shiver, Cas absorbing every ounce of comfort he could from Dean’s lips before he had to force them apart to find some place to warm up.
They ended the night enjoying each other’s company at a shitty diner eating mediocre burgers, but it may very well go down as one of Dean’s favorite meals.
Since their flight home wasn’t scheduled until Saturday morning, Friday was meant to be a day out exploring the city, but when they woke up in their hotel room (they had thanked Gabriel for his hospitality but explained that they needed their own space and booked themselves a hotel room for the next two nights), they were met with a snowstorm so thick, it was difficult to see across the street. Sightseeing was out of the question, so they stayed in, ordered room service, and kept themselves warm and entertained while they focused on a much different kind of exploration.
Alright, so the trip wasn’t a complete disaster.
On the plane ride home and at Cas’s gentle suggestion, Dean decided to forgo the alcohol. He braved the flight with nothing but Cas’s soothing voice whispering words of encouragement and his strong hand holding his. It was enough.
When Dean asked him to spend Christmas with him, Cas gave an enthusiastic yes.
Christmas, too, came and went in a whirlwind.
As has always been tradition, Christmas Eve was spent at Ellen and Bobby’s. Jo was there, and so were Sam and Jess, and even Charlie tagged along. They all helped prepare dinner and then spent the evening playing board games, drinking, and exchanging their Secret Santa gifts. The next morning, everyone met back at the house for a big breakfast before breaking off into their smaller individual families to spend Christmas Day creating their own traditions.
Dean still can’t get over how easy it was for Cas to meld right in with his family. It was his first holiday spent with them but it certainly didn’t feel that way, it felt almost as if he’d always been there, and it filled Dean with more warmth than he knew what to do with. Seeing Cas talk business with Bobby, being doted upon by Ellen, joke around at his expense with Sam, and take Jo’s teasing like a champ… it made something pleasant settle in his gut. Dean knew he loved Cas, but as each moment and milestone passed, it all just became that much clearer.
And just like that, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve came and went.
*****
With the winter holidays behind them and January in full swing, Dean is back in school, already missing the time off and the freedom to spend nearly all his waking hours wrapped up in his boyfriend. His birthday is next Tuesday and Sam and Ellen have been organizing a birthday dinner for him. He had asked for something simple, still recovering from the holidays and not wanting anyone to make a big fuss out of it. It took some coaxing, but Ellen finally agreed to a simple pizza and game night with the usual crowd, nothing special.
After having some difficulty settling back into his school routine, he’s finally made it to the end of the week and is very much looking forward to that dinner. He’s just finishing up grading papers at his desk when his phone vibrates with a text message alert.
CAS : Hello Dean. Can’t make tonight. Something came up.
DEAN : Everything okay? We can resched.
CAS : No please don’t on my account. Just a work thing. Sorry.
DEAN : You sure? Kinda want ya there.
CAS : Me too. I’m so sorry. Say hi to the family for me.
DEAN : Can I see you later?
CAS : I’ll text you. Enjoy your party.
Dean sets down his phone, deflated. The prospect of a family gathering - and one celebrating him - without a very important member of his family just doesn’t feel the same. Shit. When did Cas become so central to his life? And when did the thought of doing something without him feel so empty?
There’s a pinprick at the back of his mind asking why Cas didn’t explain in more detail about his ‘work thing’, but he pushes that aside and resolutely decides that he’s going to join his family and relax.
He arrives at the Roadhouse where Ellen has closed off the room in the back used for private parties. The moment he approaches, he can see through the large glass windows that Sam, Jess, Jo, and Charlie are putting the finishing touches on the decorations, the room fully adorned with balloons and streamers. Figures that they would make a big deal even when he asked them not to.
He walks in the door and is greeted by a screech and a pair of long, soft arms thrown around his neck as he gets a facefull of curled blonde hair.
“Happy Birthday!” Jess shouts as she squeezes him even tighter.
“You guys really didn’t need to do this. I thought I said I wanted quiet and subtle?”
“Since when do we do what you tell us?” Jo pipes up and takes her turn giving Dean a hug.
Sam and Charlie greet him as well and then Ellen and Bobby pop through a door at the back, arms full of pizza and appetizers, pitchers of beer already set out on the table.
“Hi, baby. Happy Birthday” Ellen says after her arms are free to give him a hug.
“I didn’t know you guys were going to do all this. It’s really unnecessary.” Dean feels his cheeks grow pink at the knowledge that this is all for him, never quite feeling deserving of the attention.
“We know you said pizza, but we weren’t about to let you eat that takeout crap made by some idjit teenager who doesn’t know how to work his own thumbs, so this is what you get.” Bobby doesn’t bother with a hug like the rest of them, but Dean knows the sentiment is there. If it wasn’t, there’s no way in hell that he’d let this party take up valuable real estate in the restaurant on a Friday night.
“Thanks, Bobby,” is all he needs to say in return.
“Hey, where’s Cas? I thought you two were coming together?” Sam asks.
“Uh, he couldn’t make it. He got caught up with something at work, but he asked me to tell you all hello.” Dean relaxes slightly when no one questions him further.
They sit down and dig into the brick oven pizzas and hot wings that Ellen and Bobby cooked up in the kitchen, and it’s not long before there are several conversations being had at once as Dean loses himself in the comfort of his family. They play a few games but have to call it off when a rousing game of Pictionary becomes a little too competitive.
Despite how he’s enjoying himself, there are more than a few times that he finds himself weighed down by Cas’s absence, especially when everyone in the room asks about him at one point or another. It’s why his hand seeks out his phone and he checks for messages more often than he’d dare to admit. He’s found a lull in the conversation and a quiet moment to himself when Sam finds him.
“Hey, Dean. Everything okay?” Sam looks concerned as Dean slips his phone back into his pocket yet again. He’d assumed no one noticed, but of course Sam did.
“Yeah, everything‘s great actually, just kinda wish Cas were here, too, but I’ll see him tomorrow, so it’s not a big deal.” Dean isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince more, but Sam doesn’t seem fazed.
He simply takes a seat next to Dean in a way he’s done a million times before and Dean feels himself automatically release some of the tension in his shoulders. He’ll never tell Sam this, but there’s a special kind of comfort he feels when they’re together, a comfort he supposes only a sibling can provide, and he realizes he misses this, misses just the two of them spending time together. Their lives have changed so drastically in just the past year alone, but Dean doubts that there will ever come a time when Sam can’t read him like a damn book, or when he won’t call Dean out on his shit.
“You two have really gotten close.” There is so much more behind that observation that is left unsaid and Dean knows it.
“Yeah, you could say that. I really like him, Sammy. Fuck, I love him. How crazy is that?” He wipes a hand down his face as though the reality of it all is hitting him for the first time, as it often feels like it does. Sam already knows that Dean has dropped the ‘L-word’ in their relationship, but he sometimes wonders if Sam really believes him, and he can’t blame him. Sam has been around for every botched relationship, every half-assed boyfriend attempt, and every time his play at love fell flat. Sam was around when his heart got broken so many years ago, and he was there when he broke Lisa’s not all that long ago. He’s seen it all from Dean.
“You’re different with him.” Sam lets the words slip out as though they don’t hold the weight of the entire world within them. Dean blinks, unsure of what to say. “I mean it, Dean. You look… happy. Something’s changed since Cas and I think he’s good for you.”
“He’s right you know.” Jess says as she slides in next to Sam and slips her arm around his shoulder, Sam moving to put his own arm around her waist. They move so naturally with one another, fluid and easy, like extensions of each other’s bodies. Dean used to give them shit for it, but that was before he knew it was something he wanted for himself, a time when his partner never made him feel like whole. A time before Cas. “And I’m pretty sure that smile you’ve been sporting is permanently stuck to your face now.”
“Yeah, I don’t think Dean’s smiled this much in… well, ever.” Sam laughs. “Just remember to come up for air every once in a while, okay?”
As much as he hates it, Dean can’t keep the heat from radiating from his cheeks, his furious blush giving away all his secrets. He knew everyone was aware how happy Cas made him, but he had (wrongly) assumed that he’d been keeping himself from looking like a love-drunk teenager around his family.
Guess he’s not the only one who knows that he’s drowning in everything that is Cas.
“I think I’m going to ask him to move in with me.”
The conversation pauses. Dean has been wrestling with this idea since Christmas, but he hasn’t said it out loud to anyone yet, and the confession surprises him as much as it does Sam and Jess.
“Really? You don’t think it’s too soon? I know we just said that you look happy, and you do, but do you think you’re ready for that kind of commitment?” Sam’s voice is kind but concerned.
“I know it’s only been, what? Barely six months? But it feels right, ya know? It’s just that I want him around, like, all the time. It’s stupid, but I actually miss him when he’s not there. I usually like my own space, but when I’m alone now, I catch myself wishing he was around. Even for the boring shit, like watching reruns on Netflix or doing laundry.”
Dean stops, his attention darting to Jess when she inhales sharply at his words and then actually squeaks, a noise he’s only ever heard come from her on two occasions: when she sees a kitten, or when she freaks out over that actor that she loves so much. Dean can’t remember his name - Jared Padi… Pada… Padoleski… or something like that. Sam and Dean have no idea what she sees in him, especially Sam, but she swears he has the cutest puppy eyes, like, ever .
He turns back to Sam in hopes of getting some kind of explanation for his malfunctioning girlfriend only to find Sam looking at him with a soft grin on his face, Jess tugging at his shirt sleeve and her hand now covering her mouth.
“That’s not stupid, Dean. That’s love.”
Dean doesn’t know what he was expecting Sam to say, but it wasn’t that.
Jess squeaks again, her voice still two octaves too high, and she and Sam share a knowing look. She surprises Dean when she bends down, grabs his shoulders, and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Do it. Ask him. We support you.”
With that, she finds Sam’s hand and gives it a squeeze, Sam bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it before she leaves them alone again, always one to somehow know when to walk away and not overstep. Damn, how did Sam get so lucky?
Dean watches the moment unfold and allows the warmth he feels inside of him to inflate behind his lungs, like a balloon filling with sunshine. Sam just gives him a big, shiteating grin, like only a little brother can.
“Shut up.” Dean surrenders, playfully pushing at Sam’s shoulder as they both laugh, letting the seriousness dissipate.
“Seriously, Dean. I’m happy for you and I hope it works out.” Sam stands, patting Dean on the shoulder, ready to walk away. “But um… whatever weekend you plan on moving, I’m busy. Real busy. Big case. It’s huge. I’m a super important lawyer now and I’ll be doing lawyer-y things, so uh, good luck with that.”
At that, Dean throws his head back and laughs with his mouth open and his eyes closed. It’s a laugh that comes from his gut and makes his eyes crinkle. Cas once told him it was one of his favorite laughs - Dean didn’t even realize he had different laughs, that is until Cas began to list all of them. In detail.
It’s moments like that when he knows, without a doubt, that Cas loves him, too.
He takes his phone out again and sends off a quick text.
DEAN : Miss you. Family says hi btw.
The party eventually winds down and Jo invites him out for a few more drinks, Jo and Charlie planning on meeting Ash and a few others to keep the night going. He thinks about it, but he honestly just wants to get home to his own bed and call Cas. If he’s lucky, maybe he’ll be willing to come over, and it’s that little nudge of hope that convinces him to decline the invitation, much to the groans and complaints of Jo and Charlie (who somehow managed to become best friends right under his nose while he wasn’t paying attention. It’s weird. Awesome, but weird).
He tries to help clean up, but of course, Ellen fusses until he surrenders, grabbing his jacket and his car keys. He takes his time saying his thank you’s and goodbye’s, but just as he’s about to leave, Ellen stops him one more time and hands him a brown bag.
“What’s this?”
“Its dinner, for that boyfriend of yours. Tell him we missed him and that he better show his face next time or we’ll come lookin’ for him.” With that, she gives Dean a strong hug. Dean doesn’t know what’s coming over him tonight, but he squeezes Ellen back extra tight as he swallows against prickling eyes.
It means the world to him that his family loves Cas and he feels overwhelmed with gratitude because he doesn’t want to know what would’ve happened if they didn’t like him. He dealt with that scenario once before, when he was young and stubborn and knew better than everyone else, or at least thought he did. Turns out, he didn’t. Lisa, wasn’t a terrible person, but she wasn’t good for him, and everyone else seemed to see that at the time except for him. It was a hard lesson that took a while to learn, and although he never said it out loud because he didn’t intend on giving anyone the satisfaction, Dean swore to himself that he’d never do that again.
He gives Ellen another squeeze and a kiss on the top of her head and whispers “thank you.”
“Don’t mention it and Happy Birthday, baby. Now get outta here.” She swats at him, never letting the moment get too serious.
He’s finally out at his car and fiddling with the keys when he hears his named called one more time, looking up to see Charlie bouncing out after him.
“Hey! I almost forgot, I have something for you before you leave.”
“Charlie, didn’t I say no presents?”
“Wow. Self-centered much? What do you think this is, your birthday or somethin’?” She grins at her own joke as Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s not for you, so you can relax. It’s for your classroom.” Charlie pops the trunk of her own car parked just a few spaces away, pulling something out of it and then walking back towards Dean. She hands him a box and he accepts it.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a set of books for your class. I heard from Cas that you were worried about some school funding and, well, I pulled a few strings and got the donation together.”
“Charlie, wow. The Hobbit ?! This is… how did you manage this? Dean is stunned. Thi s is better than any present he could have asked for anyway.
“Eh, don’t worry about it. I have my ways,” she teases with a playful shrug. “I heard you were looking for something in the world of fantasy and that’s my specialty. This one’s one of my personal favorites. It made a huge impact on my childhood, so I’m just kinda hoping it does the same for someone else. Passing it on to the next generation and all that.”
“You’re so awesome. I loved this book and it was one of Sam’s favorites, too. Seriously, thank you.”
“So ummm…” Charlie is looking down at her feet now and toeing at a piece of gravel in front of Dean’s car. “I know Cas couldn’t make it tonight and I’m really sorry about that, but is it… I mean, are you okay that I’m here? Even when Cas isn’t?”
“Are you kidding me? I love it.” She looks up at him then, her smile bright and cheery. Was she actually worried about this? “You’re basically part of the family already. Besides, even if I said I wasn’t cool with it, I’d have to answer to Jo, and nobody wants that.”
“What can I say? Everyone loves me!”
“Yeah yeah. You’re awesome. Blah blah blah. Now get out of here, I can see your ego inflating as we speak,” Dean mocks. He’s about ready to go, but she stops him one more time.
“Hey, Dean?” He turns to look at her, noticing the shift in her spirited demeanor to one with a much more serious undertone. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For Cas. He told me about what happened at Thanksgiving and I wasn’t going to bring it up, but he’s not here and I thought maybe you needed to hear it from someone else.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
Dean isn’t sure where this is going, but one thing he’s always appreciated about Charlie is her genuine, straightforward nature; if she’s serious, then it means she has something important to say. Sure, she’s playful and flirtatious and funny, but when she speaks with intention, Dean has learned to listen. She reminds him of Cas in that way.
“When Cas first moved out here, he was in a pretty dark place. We helped each other through some tough shit and I instantly became protective over him, as you know. I probably don’t have any right to be, but here we are, so whatever.” Dean looks at her, still confused. “Anyway, he’s different with you. He used to talk so negatively about himself and his future, it worried me sometimes, but now, it’s like he’s looking forward to what comes next. You brought that out of him. You made him believe in himself again. So, thank you .” Dean doesn’t even know how to begin to react to her words. “Oh, and thank you for standing up to that asshole brother of his. I’ve never met him, but that’s probably for the best.”
“Yeah, asshole is one word for him, that’s true. I don’t even know how he and Cas are related.” Dean huffs, not knowing what else he could possibly say. Charlie reaches out and grabs Dean’s hand, giving it a squeeze acknowledging that he doesn’t have to say anything at all.
She smiles at him and turns to walk away having said her peace, but as she loosens her fingers to let her hand slip away, Dean holds on tight, causing her turn back around to face him. The gesture feels intimate, in a way, but he’s gotten so unexpectedly comfortable with Charlie that it’s more reassuring than anything.
“Do you think he’d move in with me? If I asked him?” He blurts out, suddenly feeling the need for Charlie’s approval.
“You’re crazy if you think you need to ask me that question.” She winks at him and then she’s off back towards the restaurant. “Let me know when you need help with the moving boxes!” she calls over her shoulder as she makes her exit.
“You’re like the sister I never wanted, but I still like you better than Sam! And you can tell him I said so!!!” he yells after her. He hears her hearty laugh before she disappears through the doors. Seriously, how did he get so lucky ?
Unable to wait until he gets home, Dean climbs into the driver’s seat of his Baby and pulls out his phone. He tries not to feel disappointed when there are no messages waiting for him. He dials Cas’s number anyway. It rings a few times before it goes to voicemail but he doesn’t bother leaving a message. It’s getting late and he just hopes Cas hasn’t been stuck with some jerk of a client this whole time.
As Dean drives home, he ruminates over his decision to ask Cas to move in with him, the idea having become far more tangible now that he’s said the words aloud. Living with someone is a big fucking deal. Really big. And Dean feels the weight of it like a solid, physical thing. If it were anyone else, he’d be panicking right about now - he did with Lisa.
Dean doesn’t always mean to compare Cas with Lisa, but sometimes he just can’t help himself. She was the longest and most significant love in Dean’s life up until about six months ago, much like Mick was for Cas, so it’s sometimes difficult not to think about ‘ who did it better’ when they reach certain milestones. To be fair to Cas, it’s a pointless game of comparison, Cas coming out the clear winner in every and all aspects, so much so that it’s not even a competition at all.
The two of them have been generously open with one another about their past relationships, rarely shying away from sharing the ups and downs of former loves, and Dean has always appreciated the raw honesty in those conversations. Those were conversations that Lisa was never willing to talk about, arguing that “the past is the past and should stay in the past.”.
When he and Cas swap stories, including and most especially the difficult ones, Dean feels vulnerable in a way that he hasn’t allowed himself to be with anyone before, and he’s learned with Cas that the past is an important part of who they are now. Hell, it’s how they found each other. Understanding what Cas had to suffer through with Mick, getting his heart broken and moving his life to California alone, makes Dean appreciate his boyfriend that much more. To think about Cas’s journey and how each moment led him into Dean’s arms? It’s enough to make him contemplate the concept of fate.
The same with him and Lisa; Dean learned a lot of lessons with her, and he made a lot of mistakes. Some would say that he wasted a lot of time, but in the end, it all led to Cas. So how could they possibly be ashamed of the things that brought them together?
It’s because of this very notion that Dean allows himself to continue his train of thought about the question he plans to ask.
When he moved in with Lisa, he had felt an odd mix of panic and complacency. He worried that it was too soon and that he’d be too restricted, lose too much of his freedom and be too smothered by the responsibility of sharing a home with someone, but at the same time, he simply didn’t care enough to fight it. She wanted to take the next step in their relationship and he figured it was his job to appease her, but it wasn’t like he was looking forward to it.
And there it is. There’s the difference.
Dean is excited at the prospect of living with Cas, he wants him around all the time, sharing his space and stealing his covers. He’s eager for Cas to warm his bed every night and wake up next to him with his adorably unruly hair every morning. His heart swells at the thought of arguing over which tv show to binge on Netflix on a random Tuesday and of having to buy two different types of orange juice every other week because Cas requires extra pulp, which is just gross.
The thought of living with Cas doesn’t feel like an expectation he’s meant to fulfill. Moving in with Cas feels… right .
Of course, such optimism can only last so long before doubt sets in. Dean feels so certain that he wants this, but he begins to worry that he’s not worried . This is too easy, right? To just be able to make a decision like this and not have it be filled with anxiety and panic? What if he’s ready but Cas isn’t? What if he scares Cas away with his own eagerness? And the worst of all his doubts… what if, in this relationship, he’s Lisa? Wanting more than Cas cares to give? Or wanting Cas more than Cas wants him?
By the time he’s unlocking the door to his apartment, Dean’s mind is spinning, dizzy from the ridiculous back and forth he’s putting himself through. He kicks off his shoes, tosses his keys on the small table by the door, and grabs his phone, checking it out of habit. Still no messages.
It’s not at all like Cas to skip wishing him a goodnight or to go so long without responding to him, even if it’s just a simple text, and especially not on the night of a special occasion. Dean decides to get in the shower, a small knot forming in the pit of his stomach. He stands under the showerhead letting the hot water and steam relax his muscles, but by the end of it, he doesn’t feel any less tense, his jaw clenching and his shoulders tightening against every worrisome thought that crosses his mind.
He dries off and slips into a pair of navy blue sweatpants and a gray t-shirt. It’s only about ten o’clock and he’s not tired, so he plops himself down on the couch. He should probably spend this time grading papers, but he’s not in the mood, so a re-watch of Brooklyn Nine-Nine it is.
Two hours later and Netflix is asking him if he’s still watching. Of course he’s still watching. What else is he going to do? His phone has been sitting face-up in front of him and he’s been willing it to light up with a message from Cas, but it’s remained dark all night, aside from a few drunk texts from Jo and Charlie.
He’s frustrated and annoyed and also a little worried. He’s been holding out for a last minute ‘ I’m coming over’ text and didn’t realize just how high that hope was until the contrasting disappointment settled deep behind his chest about an hour ago. Now he’s in that late night trance where he’s too tired to pay attention or be functional, but also too stubborn to fall asleep, so he hits “OK” on the screen and lets the next episode play.
He falls asleep on the couch before it ends.
The dream follows quickly after.
*****
Dean is running down a dark alleyway, or maybe it’s a hallway, he’s not sure. He’s calling out someone’s name, searching frantically, peeking into doorways and down corridors, racing, calling out in a panic. Then he hears himself say Cas’s name.
Of course it’s Cas. It always Cas. But what’s wrong and why does Dean need to find him, need to help him?
Turning a corner, he sees him, a shapeless lump on the cold concrete floor. Dean races to get to his side, dropping to his knees. Something is wrong with Cas, blood running down from his eyes as he shakes violently. He wants to look away but he can’t. Someone has to help him and Dean doesn’t know what to do. He cradles Cas’s head in his hands, whispering reassurances.
Someone help! What’s happening? CAS!
*****
Dean wakes with a start and in a cold sweat, an ache in his neck and shoulder from the awkward position in which he fell asleep. He sits upright and feels uncomfortable, not remembering how his phone got from the coffee table and into his hand, but he’s gripping it tightly.
It’s three in the morning. No new messages, not that he expected any at this point.
Groggy and a little disoriented, he drags himself to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water then makes his way to his bedroom. He’s exhausted and the dream has left him feeling unsettled. It’s not that he hasn’t had bad dreams before, because he has. He used to get night terrors as a child and he’s experienced them in adulthood as well, just… not since Cas started sharing his bed a few times a week.
He tries to shake it off and gets under the covers, hating how empty the bed feels and resenting not having a pair of thick thighs and strong shoulders to cuddle up next to. Cas always lets him stick his cold feet between his calves to warm them up and has never once complained about it. Dean’s feet are extra cold tonight.
Aside from the fact that he hasn’t heard from Cas for most of the day, it feels as if giving voice to the idea of asking Cas to move in with him has made the weight of his absence that much heavier. God, and if Cas says no to the whole idea, Dean’s sure his nights alone are going to be so much lonelier. He’s never been one to have a problem sleeping by himself, in fact, he’d generally preferred it, or maybe he’d simply gotten used to it. Either way, he prefers sharing his bed now and he knows there’s no turning back. Maybe if Cas rejects him, he’ll get a dog, or just ask to borrow Zaz. Sam and Jess wouldn’t mind, right?
Grumpy and shivering, Dean waits for his own body heat to warm the sheets that surround him. When he eventually finds a modicum of warmth, he lets himself drift off back to sleep. It’s fitful and restless, but at least he doesn’t fully wake again until a few hours later when the sun begins to peek through his window, pulling him into consciousness.
He wakes feeling unrested. Eyes still half closed, he reaches out to the nightstand next to his bed, blindly searching for his phone, satisfied that he at least remembered to plug it in before he passed out. It’s six-thirty in the morning and there are still no messages.
Dean knows he shouldn’t be worried, but he is. Something just isn’t right, but he doesn’t want to wake Cas up with a phone call at the asscrack of dawn. What would he even say if Cas picked up? Sorry, I was worried you hadn’t called? I buttdialed your phone? Stupid. Instead, he plays mindless games on his phone and ends up falling back asleep for another two hours. It’s just before nine when wakes again.
Still no messages and Dean’s had enough. Enough moping about and enough feeling like a rock has been dropped into the pit of his stomach. Something is wrong. He can’t explain how, exactly, but he just knows it. Screw being logical and sensible.
He tries calling Cas one more time.
It goes straight to voicemail.
Chapter Text
Dean throws on a pair of jeans and grabs a t-shirt from somewhere off his bedroom floor. He sniffs it and, finding it decent enough, he pulls it over his head. He skips the shower, too anxious to bother, but he does talk himself into brushing his teeth. He fell asleep without doing so last night and his mouth tastes disgusting. Besides, he needs to take a minute to slow himself down before he gets more worked up than he already is.
It only takes a few minutes and in no time, he’s grabbing his keys and rushing out the front door. On the way to his car, his phone rings and he stops to fumble it out of his pocket, seeing Charlie’s face on his screen.
“Charlie?” he answers.
“Hey Dean. Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but have you heard from Cas?” Dean instantly hates the hesitancy he detects in her voice, his heart dipping just a little lower than it was a moment ago.
“Dude, not since before I left work yesterday afternoon. Why? Have you?” He’s trying not to sound like a neurotic boyfriend, but he’s probably failing.
“No, I haven’t. I’ve called him a few times but it goes to voicemail. No texts either.”
“Same. I don’t know what’s up, but this isn’t like him. I’m headed to his place right now, actually.”
“Shit. He was supposed to take care of Seb this morning. He’s always there before eight and he always texts me a picture of them together on their walk. He’s literally never not done that, so I got worried when I couldn’t reach him.”
“Yeah, okay. Fuck. Well I’m… wait. I just saw you last night. You aren’t home?”
“Left for a conference in San Francisco at like, four fucking o’clock this morning. Too early to feed Seb, but luckily he’s at least been let out once already. We were supposed to leave last night after your party, but Jo and I had a few too many and needed at least a couple hours to sleep it off.”
“Hold on. Did you say ‘ we ’? Is Jo with you?”
“Duh. It’s kinda the perk of having a new bestie who’s not too busy boinking his boyfriend or making dreamy-eyes all day to pay attention to me anymore.” Dean rolls his eyes so hard that it almost hurts. “I can actually hear you rolling your eyes at me, Winchester.” Oh good, so she’s psychic and sarcastic. “Anyway, I wanted a road trip partner and she wanted to see the sights, so we’re staying a few days. Comped hotel. Open bar tonight. Kinda a no-brainer. It’s gonna be awesome. But you know what won’t be awesome? Coming home to a malnourished dog and a missing best friend. Those kinda put a damper on things, so you think you could help a girl out?”
“Yeah, of course.” Dean wants to be snarky, it nearly pains him to hold it in, but now that he knows that Cas hasn’t contacted Charlie either and that he’s apparently missed his usual check-in time with Seb, the worry churning in his gut kicks up a notch, or ten. “Like I said, I’m on my way to Cas’s place now. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks, Dean. Call me if you need anything.”
“Bye, Char.” He hangs up without waiting to see if she replies and walks a little faster to his Baby.
Dean makes it to Cas’s apartment complex on autopilot, pulling into a guest parking space and trying to remember exactly how he got there. Exhaustion mixed with worry caused his brain to take a nosedive right into the land of pessimism and negative thoughts.
As he heads towards Cas’s place, he walks past his parking space and sees that his car is there. He’s not sure if that’s a good sign or a bad one. He stops in front of the door and hesitates for only a second before he knocks, realizing that his hands are a little shaky. No answer. He tries the doorbell just for good measure. They never got Dean a spare key made because he hardly ever stays there, neither of them thinking that it mattered all that much, especially considering that Charlie has one if it was ever necessary. It seemed trivial and entirely unimportant until right at this very moment.
Dean knocks harder now. Still no answer.
He tries the handle of the door anyway. It’s unlocked and it opens easily, which is weird, because Cas is generally very particular about these things, the same way he’s particular about putting on his seatbelt or brushing his teeth every night and turning off all the lights before leaving a room.
“Cas?” Dean calls from doorway.
Well, at least Cas isn’t throwing some kind of rave in his living room and there’s no drug-fuelled orgy happening on his kitchen counter, so that’s a plus (and okay fine, so maybe his negative thoughts got a little carried away. So what?).
“Cas? You in here?” He tries again, a little louder.
Dean steps inside and closes the door behind him. At first glance, everything in the apartment mostly looks normal, aside from one of his kitchen cabinets left hanging wide open. Oh, and the cup of tea that’s tipped on its side, the liquid spilled all over the counter and down onto the floor.
What the hell?
A quiet, barely-there moan comes from the bedroom. Dean’s blood runs cold and he races to the room. Not seeing Cas in his bed, he peers around the corner into the en-suite bathroom.
“Cas? Cas!”
There, in a shapeless lump on the tile floor is Cas, or who he assumes is Cas hidden under the folds of an oversized comforter and several blankets. Dean’s heart speeds up, or maybe it slows down, or both. Can it do both?
Before he knows it, he’s stumbling into the bathroom and dropping to his knees, sifting through the blankets to try and find the man buried underneath. He lets out a relieved breath when he spots a head of messy hair and a pair of sunken blue eyes blinking at him. Cas is curled in on himself and though his eyes are open, they’re unfocused.
“What the fuck, man? Are you ok?” Cas just closes his eyes and furrows his brow, like he’s trying to think of his answer. “You gotta answer me, Cas. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He’d be ashamed of the crack in his voice if he wasn’t so damn concerned.
“Dean?” Cas forces his eyes back open, his voice weak and raw as Dean tries to excavate him from his pile of blankets, but hey, at least he’s conscious. Once he has Cas’s head and shoulders free, Dean takes Cas’s face in his hands and gasps at the heat radiating from his body. He’s sweaty and shivering. Worst of all, he’s pale, paler than Dean thought possible knowing how golden tan his skin truly is.
It’s all a frightening flashback of his dream last night and for the briefest moment, Dean wonders if it wasn’t a dream at all, but a premonition. This is what he saw in his dream, exactly this, only… different. He shakes the thought from his head immediately, more pressing matters at hand, like trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with Cas.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here, Cas. Can you sit up for me?”
Cas blinks a few more times, trying to bring Dean into focus, but he doesn’t resist and let’s Dean help him up to a sitting position. He’s hardly able to hold his own head up, so Dean gently guides him back to prop him against the wall directly across from the toilet.
“What are you doing here?” He’s confused and disoriented, which scares the shit out of Dean.
“You haven’t been answering your phone or messages. I got worried. Charlie, too.” And rightfully fucking so, he thinks.
Cas’s head lulls. “But your party. You should go to that.”
“My party was last night. It’s Saturday now, babe. Fuck, how long have you been here? And you gotta tell me what’s wrong, okay? Are you hurt?” He’s doing everything in his power not to panic and to remain calm so as not to frighten Cas, but the fact that he’s basically holding Cas’s weight against the wall isn’t helping. Even so, Dean learned long ago with Sam that the patient always takes stress cues from the nurse, so to speak. Right now, he needs to be calm and get answers.
He frantically looks around for clues, anything that might help explain Cas’s current state. He sees a bottle of NyQuil on the sink next to an empty glass of water, and for the first time, he even notices a pillow squished in among the blankets. Did Cas make a fucking nest?
With the initial shock wearing off of finding Cas all but passed out on the floor, Dean’s sense of smell also comes back to him, and the place smells of sweat and sick. The trashcan next to the toilet is full of tissues and there’s a hand towel shoved in the corner.
“Think m’sick.” Cas mumbles.
“Yeah, I can see that, sweetheart. Have you just been laying here and throwing up all night? When’s the last time you had a drink of water?”
“Puking. Yeah. So much. Made my bed here. Couldn’t leave the bathroom. Tried not t’make a mess. M’sorry.” He seems to be coming back to himself at least, but Dean is still worried. He needs to get Cas’s fever down and get some water in him. Fuck, he’s probably dehydrated, too.
“Okay, it’s alright. We need to get you in the shower though. Wash you off and try to help break that fever, alright? Will you let me help you?”
“Everything hurts,” Cas whines. He sounds so weak and pathetic and Dean’s heart breaks. It reminds him of the time that Sam got sick as a child and had most of the same symptoms that Cas does now. Sam was so miserable and not acting like himself, and Dean remembers that it was one of the first times that he truly felt scared and helpless. Sam ended up in the hospital for three days.
“I know, babe, but I’m going to help you, okay?” Cas looks up at him, eyes still glazed over, but he nods slightly. Dean’s entire heart splits open and all he wants is for Cas to fall inside of it and fill the empty space. He wants to hold Cas until he stops shivering and doubting, wants to squeeze him until his fever breaks and all the broken pieces of his spirit are restored. Dean wants to love him until he doesn’t hurt anymore.
He settles for a kiss to Cas’s forehead.
Dean gets up and turns on the shower, making sure it’s on the cooler side of tepid, and then reluctantly steps out of the bathroom to quickly grab two towels, a washcloth, and a large cup of water.
When he comes back into the room, Cas has started to pull the blankets off of himself. Once confirming that the water is the temperature he wants it, he kneels back down and helps Cas slowly remove his shirt. It’s soaked through with sweat and yet again, Dean wonders how long he’s been like this. He has to swallow against the way his stomach bottoms out and bile rises in the back of his own throat at the idea of Cas being here all alone, so sick and weak that he can hardly hold himself upright.
With some gentle coaxing, he hefts Cas to his feet, Dean having to support most of his weight while Cas struggles to gain his balance. They remove the cotton sleep pants he was wearing and, murmuring continued words of encouragement, Dean slowly gets him inside the shower and under the water. Cas nearly loses his balance when his legs give out from under him and before he knows it, he’s in the shower with him, fully clothed and holding Cas upright, one arm around his waist and the other on his shoulder.
“I got you, I got you. You alright? Can you manage standing or do you need to sit?”
“Dean.” The word comes small and sad off his lips and Dean hates it. When Cas says his name, it's like a prayer and a promise wrapped in a single syllable, it’s salvation… but not like this it isn’t.
“Yeah, Cas. I’m here.”
“M’cold.”
“I know it’s cold, but we have to get your fever down, okay?” He runs a hand through Cas’s wet hair, wishing there was something more he could do.
“M’so sorry.” Cas slumps forward and rests his head on Dean’s shoulder, the water at his back, but he’s standing on his own two feet, which is a good sign.
“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, angel. Not a damn thing.”
“Your clothes.”
“They’ll dry. Hey, why don’t I take them off and we can sit down together in the tub, okay?” Cas nods his head against Dean’s shoulder and mumbles something that he can’t make out, but Cas lifts his head and stands unassisted while Dean removes his shirt and jeans, which are a bitch to take off while wet. He steps a foot out and tosses his sopping clothes into the sink, grabbing the cup of water and the washcloth, setting them beside the bathtub.
The tub is too small for two grown men but Dean makes it work, maneuvering Cas so that he’s sitting with his back against Dean’s chest. The water is too cool to be comfortable, but Cas’s body is hot to the touch and Dean lets it warm his own skin, wishing he could absorb Cas’s fever into his own body, anything to take his pain away.
He lets the water run for a little bit before turning it off, and then they’re still for a moment, just breathing together.
With slow, purposeful movements, Dean takes the washcloth and gets it wet while handing the cup of water over to Cas and encouraging him to sit up and drink it. Cas makes a feeble protest but easily complies while Dean gets to work running the washcloth over his back and shoulders. Cas shivers but continues to take small sips of water.
Despite the circumstances, it’s oddly peaceful between the tender, quiet caresses and the easy way they find solace in one another’s touch. When Cas lets out a small whimper of discomfort, Dean begins to follow the trail of the washcloth with soft, gentle kisses, and Cas relaxes as much as he’s able.
After a few minutes, Cas leans back to rest his weight on Dean’s chest, head falling back, pillowed by his shoulder. He continues to work the washcloth over Cas’s chest and neck and across his forehead. Cas’s eyes are closed and Dean thinks he’s fallen asleep, until he speaks.
“Why‘re you here?” His voice is low and scratchy, made raw from repeated exposure to the acid in his stomach.
“The real question is, why wasn’t I here earlier . How come you didn’t call me? I would have been here and been able to take care of you, instead of finding you passed out on your bathroom floor. You fucking scared me, man. You know that?” He’s got about a thousand other questions he’d like to ask, but he refrains for the time being.
“I...” Cas takes a long, shaky breath, grabbing Dean’s hand to hold it still. “... didn’t want to bother you at first.” Another slow breath. “I started feeling bad on Thursday, but didn’t think much of it. Yesterday got worse.”
“Is this really why you weren’t at my party? Did you lie to me about having a work thing because you were sick?”
Dean starts to get worked up. He was with his family, eating and playing games , all while Cas was here alone, puking his guts out. No one to help him, no one to look out for him. What the fuck is that about? What if something worse had happened? What if he had--- his train of thought is interrupted by the shake of Cas’s shoulders. Then there’s a sniffle.
“I’m sorry, m’so sorry.” Dean didn’t think it could happen, but Cas sounds even more broken and miserable than before.
“Hey, stop apologizing. I just don’t understand why you didn’t call me.”
“Didn’t want you to miss your party ‘cuz of me, thought I’d be fine. By the time I realized how bad it was, I was gonna call, but my phone fell behind my bed and I couldn’t get to it.”
“Jesus, Cas.” He wraps his arms around Cas’s torso just to hold him close, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Don’t ever pull that shit again, you hear me? You’re sick, even a tickle in your throat, you tell me. End of story.”
“But--”
“No. No buts. If you haven’t figured it out yet, you kinda mean a lot to me. I love you, you idiot, and that means me being around for the gross stuff and the good stuff. In sickness and in health and all that.”
“Dean. Those are...”
“I know, okay? Just... don’t hide this shit from me. Please .” He presses another kiss to the side of Cas’s head and Cas nods. “Now, what do you say we get you out of here and into bed?”
“Two more minutes?”
“Sure, Cas. Two more minutes.”
*****
Eventually, Dean helps Cas out of the shower and into the bedroom, but not before Cas brushes his teeth, much to the relief of them both. It’s a slow process with Cas as incredibly weak as he is, any exertion on his body making him nauseous all over again. Dean gets him into a cotton tee and a clean pair of sleep pants, borrowing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for himself as well. He then sits Cas in a cushy reading chair positioned in the corner of the bedroom while he gets to work on changing the sheets.
Soon, Cas is all clean and in his own bed with laundered clothes and fresh linens. He looks significantly better, but still not great. He’s not sweating anymore and he’s not nearly as pale as he was when Dean found him on the floor, but the fever remains and Dean’s still worried.
“I’ve got you all set up, okay? There’s a trashcan next to you in case you still need it and you have a water bottle on your nightstand. We’ll try some juice in a little bit, but you need to hydrate as best you can right now. I’ll be right back.”
“Are you going home?” Cas asks, looking like a kid whose dog just ran away.
“I’m not leaving you, babe, but I do have to run over to Charlie’s and feed Sebastian.”
“Ohmygod. Oh no. I completely forgot. I...” Cas makes a move to sit up, but Dean is right there to run a comforting hand through his hair and guide him gently back down.
“It’s fine. I’m taking care of it. The only thing I want you to worry about is getting better. You think you can do that for me for a few minutes while I go feed Seb?”
“Yeah” he responds, his eyes already slipping closed.
Dean sits next to him for a few minutes until he falls asleep. With Cas softly snoring and peaceful for the time being, he grabs Charlie’s key and heads to her apartment a few doors down the hall. As he feeds Seb and takes him out to the grass to do his business, he gives Charlie a call to fill her in on what’s going on. She offers to come home immediately, but Dean assures her he’s got everything under control… he hopes.
Before he leaves, he raids Charlie’s fridge and pantry for anything that might be useful and makes one more phone call - to Jess. He lets her know what’s happening and asks for advice on how best to help Cas handle the stomach bug from Hell.
Jess makes him run through a list of Cas’s symptoms and ultimately agrees that it sounds like the flu, a particularly nasty strain going around, the likes of which they’ve been dealing with at the hospital for the past several weeks. She instructs him to carefully monitor Cas’s symptoms and promises to try and stop by after her shift later in the evening.
Dean spends the rest of the day doing just that - watching Cas closely for any signs that he might be getting worse. He monitors Cas’s fever and does his best to keep him hydrated. There’s only one instance in which the trashcan is required, but Dean is there to rub Cas’s back, refill his water, and bring him peppermints.
Cas sleeps most of the day, which gives Dean time pick up the apartment. There’s not too much to do since Cas is generally a tidy person with the bare minimum in his apartment, keeping only what is necessary and functional, so Dean starts with the spilled cup of tea in the kitchen. He cleans what few dishes were in the sink, wipes down all the counters and surfaces, and then thoroughly disinfects the bathroom.
When he’s done with the bathroom, he checks on Cas and then slips out to his car to retrieve his work bag that he thankfully left in the back seat yesterday. He has no intention of leaving Cas’s apartment this weekend, so at least now he can get some work done while he’s here. Bag in hand, he heads back over to Charlie’s to let Seb out. Dean’s petting him and apologizing for having to leave again when a thought strikes him; there’s no need for Seb to be left all alone when Dean and Cas are only a few doors down. He’s sure Charlie won’t mind, and besides, he knows firsthand how comforting it can be to have a dog around when life feels shitty. Once, when he was sick, Sam brought Zazu to Dean’s apartment while Jess made him chicken noodle soup and Sam studied. He was grumpy as hell about it and made a big fuss at first, but by that night, he was even grumpier about having to let Zaz go back home with Sam.
Sure enough, Seb’s eager to follow Dean down the hall, excited for the company. Tail wagging, he does his preliminary apartment check and sniffs around before finding Cas in the bedroom and immediately joining him on the bed. Dean tries to keep Seb at the foot of the bed for awhile but, to no one’s surprise, the little sneak slowly creeps his way further up to lay by Cas’s side. Whether consciously or not, Cas’s arm reaches out and migrates towards the ball of fur, his hand coming to rest on the sweet pup curled tightly against him.
Dean’s heart melts at the sight of the two of them snuggled closely together, ignoring for a moment the unfortunate circumstances that brought them all here in the first place. He takes a quick picture and sends it to Charlie along with her requested status update and warmth blooms in his chest for the man that, even while sick and miserable, makes his life better just by existing in it.
He could absolutely get used to this. He could have a whole life with Cas, a family .
Later that evening, while Dean sits on the couch grading papers, Jess stops by bearing gifts. She brings Gatorade, soup, and saltine crackers for Cas, and (because she’s actually the best) she brings an Italian sub and a bag of chips for Dean, knowing soup and crackers just wouldn’t cut it for him.
She tells Dean to eat while she checks on the patient and Dean doesn’t dare argue; he learned long ago that Jess can be very scary when she gets into nurse-mode and there’s no arguing with her.
He finishes the sandwich, drags Seb out of the bedroom to take him outside, and sends Charlie another text before venturing back into Cas’s room to see how things are going. Jess has Cas sitting up and drinking some Gatorade through a straw, giving him a lecture about how he needs the electrolytes. Using her stern voice, she adds that he should have called someone, explaining that if Dean hadn’t shown up to help get him hydrated and bring down his fever when he did, things could have been much worse. Cas glances at Dean when she says this, his eyes regretful and watery, but Dean can’t quite tell if it’s because of tears or just plain exhaustion.
Jess sticks around for a while longer, taking Cas’s temperature one last time before she leaves and reminding Dean to monitor him throughout the night. Cas thanks her for coming by and for the soup, even though he’s not quite ready to eat yet, doubtful that he’ll be able to keep it down. Dean walks her to the door and receives another run down of her instructions, Jess warning him to call her if anything changes. He promises he will and thanks her again.
Dean finds Cas’s air mattress in the small linen closet in the hall and sets it up next to the bed while Cas slowly makes his way to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. Cas protests his being on the floor but doesn’t have the strength to put up a fight when Dean explains that it would be too crowded on the bed, especially since Seb has made himself perfectly at home at Cas’s side.
The three of them eventually settle in and Cas is mostly able to sleep through the night, thanks in large part to the humidifier that Jess set up for them and the Tylenol that Dean was able to get him to take. He wakes a few times in discomfort, but Dean is there each time with a cool washcloth to use as a compress across his forehead and a comforting hand to rub along his arm or back.
By morning, Cas’s temperature has dropped significantly and he’s more alert than he was at any point the day before. Dean feels a weight lifted at seeing some color back in his face and he greets the day with high spirits regardless of his lack of sleep - he’s getting too old for air mattresses and already misses his memory foam.
He gets Cas to eat some dry toast and orange juice (with pulp) and once they’re sure he’s going to keep it down, Dean helps him into the bathroom then gets to work on changing the sheets again, wanting to keep everything as fresh and clean as he can. He takes Seb outside and back to Charlie’s to feed him, laughing to himself when they return and Seb charges into the house, tail wagging as he searches for Cas again, acting like they’ve been separated for days instead of the mere twenty minutes it’s actually been.
Seb and Dean find Cas sitting up in bed and waiting for them.
“Hey, babe. You look much better today. How you feelin’?”
“Like I got hit by a bus, but that’s a downgrade from yesterday when it felt like a freight train, so I guess that’s good.”
Dean laughs despite himself. “Well, I’m glad to see that your wit is still intact.” He looks at Cas to see that he’s got his head down and he’s picking at an invisible strand on his bedsheets. “Hey, what’s wrong? Ya know, aside from the obvious.”
“I’m just so s--”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence with the word ‘sorry’,” Dean interrupts. “I already told you, ain’t nothing to be sorry for. It all comes with the boyfriend gig. Besides, you’d do the same for me.”
Cas blinks back at him. “Yeah, but I totally ruined your birthday weekend.”
“Oh, come on, you haven’t ruined anything, okay? I hate that you feel like shit, but getting you better is way more important than my birthday. No contest. I just wish you had realized that last night.”
Cas still doesn’t smile, but the guilt on his face recedes somewhat. He keeps playing with the sheets in his lap. “You probably need to go soon, huh?”
“Not unless you want me to.”
At that, Cas looks up at him, pitiful but hopeful. “But don’t you have work to do and then school tomorrow?”
“I got all my prep-work done yesterday, actually. All my shit is in your living room and I worked on it while you were sleeping, and since Jess said that you’ll be down for the count for a couple of days at least, I was going to request a sub for work tomorrow and stick around. But only if that’s okay with you.”
“You don’t have to do that, Dean” he says quietly.
“I know, but I want to.” Seb has already curled up next to Cas’s legs again and Dean takes a seat on the edge of the bed with them. “Your fever isn’t completely gone and you hardly have the strength to move around your apartment on your own. Plus, we’re still taking care of Seb, remember? Charlie isn’t home until Wednesday, apparently.”
Cas gets a fond little grin on his face and Dean doesn’t know what exactly he said to cause it, but it’s like sunshine and Dean wants to bask in its light for the rest of forever.
“I was hoping you’d give me a reason I couldn’t argue against.” Cas’s smile becomes wider and it takes everything in him for Dean not to surge forward and kiss it right off his face.
“So it looks like you’re stuck with me.”
“Looks like it.”
Cas is getting sleepy again, so Dean lets him rest while he cleans up the paperwork he left all over the living room and makes himself something to eat. While scouring Cas’s meager cupboards, he finds a few boxes of Jello, so he also decides to make two big bowls of it, lime for Cas and blueberry for himself, and places them in the fridge to set. If Cas sticks with toast and the soup Jess brought over, they’ll be good for the day, but then Dean’s going to have to make a grocery run.
When Cas wakes up a little while later, Dean makes himself comfortable next to him in bed (and Seb gets ousted to the foot of it, much to his dismay). At Cas’s insistence, they create a makeshift barrier between them with a row of pillows, the demanding (but adorable) little shit being very vocal about wanting Dean close beside him, but also wanting to take precautions so that he too doesn’t end up getting sick.
The rest of the afternoon is spent with Cas in control of the remote, drifting in and out of sleep as they watch reruns of Dr. Sexy MD. Dean is content to play nurse and makes sure that Cas is kept to drinking fluids, eating when he can, and taking Tylenol regularly to help with the muscle aches. They’re probably on their fifth episode when Cas begins getting restless. He can’t stop moving his legs or find a comfortable position. He whines and huffs his annoyance until finally Dean gives in and asks what’s wrong.
“I’m uncomfortable. I’ve been in this bed all day and everything hurts.” Cas crosses his arms across his chest and scowls. Dean can’t help but think how cute he looks with his hair all mussed up and his grumpy frown, like a soft little angry kitten. He makes the wise choice, though, and keeps that thought to himself.
“Is there anything I can do for you, angel?” Cas’s features soften at the nickname, but he works to keep the frown in place for good measure.
“Take a bath with me? And after, can we please watch something other than Dr. Sexy? I need a change of pace.”
“I think I can make that happen. What do you want to watch?”
“I don’t know, but maybe something I haven’t seen before. I don’t feel quite so groggy anymore and my brain needs something new.”
Dean’s face lights up at that. “Should we put your Christmas present to use then?” He pushes himself off the bed and jumps to his feet in anticipation. “Please, Cas? It’s perfect. We have nowhere to go and it’s something new, like you want, and it’s full of action so you won’t get bored, and we’ve been planning on having a marathon anyway, and--”
“Dean!” Cas cuts off what could easily turn into a full blown presentation over the merits of Star Wars, something Cas has experienced firsthand. “That sounds great, actually. But can I take a bath first? I need out of this bed.”
They take another bath in lukewarm water, Dean still too worried that anything warmer might exacerbate Cas’s symptoms, worst of all being the fever. They take their time and Dean methodically and attentively washes Cas down, stopping to rub his sore muscles and promising to rub his legs when they get out, and if Cas weren’t still terribly ill, the moans he makes in appreciation of Dean’s ministrations would have had them sprawled on the mattress in no time, but the flu, it turns out, is a bit of a libido killer.
Dean eventually gets Cas out of the bath, dried off, and sitting up with a tray table in front of him for some food. He heats up and serves the soup, promising the Jello for dessert. Then, it’s finally time -- A New Hope -- and Dean can’t wait. He asks Cas where the DVD’s are stashed and he’s directed to the closet in the second bedroom, a room that was meant to be Cas’s office at some point, the project clearly abandoned somewhere along the way. Still, what he sees when he opens the door is… confusing.
“Ummmm Cas?” Dean calls, walking back into the master bedroom. Cas looks up at him, tilting his head in question. “What’s with all the boxes stacked in that closet?”
Cas immediately appears ashamed and won’t make eye contact, focusing his attention on scratching behind Seb’s ear instead. “I forgot about those.”
“Care to elaborate for the class?”
“It’s just stuff… that I haven’t unpacked yet.” He works his fingers behind Seb’s other ear as he mumbles the answer, soup already forgotten.
“You told me that all you had left were a few miscellaneous boxes, but what I saw in there was definitely not just a few odds and ends.”
And then the realization hits him. There are a few boxes in the bottom corner of his bedroom closet and on the shelf above it. There are also a couple of smaller boxes stashed under the sink in the bathroom, and Dean also knows about the boxes in the utility storage space off the balcony. Has he really not noticed until now? As he’s adding this all up in his head, Cas remains silent, even more intently focused on Seb.
“You have boxes stashed everywhere in this apartment. Shit, probably over half your stuff is still packed away.” It’s meant to be a question as much as it is a statement.
Cas still won’t look at him. He places his bowl of soup on the nightstand and pushes away the tray table, sliding himself down into the covers as if to hide. He tucks his chin into his pillow and draws his knees up, curling himself onto his side, his back facing Dean. He mutters something, but Dean can’t make it out, so he moves over to the other side of the bed to where Cas is facing him again, forcing an indignant Sebastian out of the way.
“Cas? What’s going on? Talk to me. Why did you just hide all your shit and not unpack it?” Dean sits on the edge of the bed and rests a hand on Cas’s shoulder. Cas finally looks up at him, hesitation written all over his face.
“I didn’t have the motivation, I guess.” He shrugs.
“Well yeah. No one ever wants to unpack.”
“It wasn’t that. It was just… Mick left me with basically everything when he ran off to England. Most of what’s in those boxes doesn’t feel like mine anyway.”
“So why not go through it and keep what’s yours and get rid of the rest?”
“I dunno.” Cas shrugs again, but Dean gets the feeling that that’s not true, so Dean waits him out. “I also kinda hated it here and was thinking about moving back, so keeping it all packed was more practical.”
Dean has to choke back the noise that nearly escapes his throat. “You’re not… are you still planning on leaving?” The way Cas looks at him then, he knows he must look terrified.
“No, not anymore, “ Cas reassures him, and Dean feels himself breathe out in relief. Thank God. “But still, this place never felt like home to me.”
“Then what made you stay?”
“You.”
Cas is looking at him now with all the love and adoration that his tired eyes can muster, and all Dean can manage to do is look right back at him. He never really realized that he was capable of feeling so many conflicting emotions at once. His heart wants to beat right out of his chest knowing that Cas stuck around for him, but he aches for Cas and the homesickness he must feel, especially now.
“Come on, let’s watch the movie.” Cas says, pulling Dean from his own head.
Dean loads the DVD and gets it playing while Cas sits back up and tries to eat the soup and a few of the crackers. They eventually get comfortable and Dean is downright giddy for this. He’s been wanting to pop Cas’s Star Wars cherry for months, and the time has finally come.
During the opening title sequence, he takes a short video with his phone and sends it off to Charlie, knowing she’ll be jealous she’s missing out. The rapid fire, all-caps texts he receives in response confirm this. He laughs and puts his phone on silent, setting it face down next to the bed, ignoring her shouting. He’ll have to suffer the consequences of her wrath later.
Within the first fifteen minutes, Cas has to tell him at least three times to shut up because he’s quoting the dialogue. But by thirty minutes in, Dean has lost his enthusiasm. He can’t stop thinking about the boxes in Cas’s apartment and the notion that he never unpacked them. Cas said this place doesn’t feel like home and that Dean made him stay. The thought weighs heavily on his shoulders. After all this time, Cas really doesn’t feel like he belongs here? What if Dean isn’t enough to make him stay for longer? What if, after awhile, Cas realizes that Dean isn’t worth it? Will Cas resent him? He doesn’t think he could ever handle that.
He grabs the remote and presses pause, turning to Cas. He looks back at him in expectant confusion and Dean holds his gaze, firm and a bit desperate.
“Move in with me.” The words are out before he can stop them.
He wasn’t going to ask this while Cas was sick and puking his guts out, but he can’t hold onto this question any longer; it’s been burning a hole in his metaphorical pocket and he can’t wait another second for an answer. This is it. If Cas wants to get out of California, this could be his out, but if he truly wants to be with Dean, this could work. Either way, it’s a big deal and Dean can hear his own pulse in his ears, it’s so loud.
“What?”
“I mean it, Cas. Move in with me.”
“Dean, I… you don’t have to do this. I’ll unpack, okay? I swear. I’ll start as soon as I’m feeling better.”
“Okay. That’s a great plan. But how about when you unpack those boxes, you unpack them at my place?”
Cas stares at him, eyes wide. “Holy shit. You’re serious. Are you serious?”
“Or, if you don’t want to unpack them at my place, then how about we pick out a new place together and then we can both unpack boxes there instead?”
“Dean?” Cas’s eyes search his. Dean desperately hopes that he’s seeking confirmation as opposed to looking for a way out.
He moves to sit up on his knees and face Cas. Time to go all in.
“I’ve wanted to ask you this for awhile, and I know it’s soon and I know maybe it’s a little crazy, and maybe you’re still thinking of leaving California, but if you’re willing, I want to live with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to never have to see you pack a stupid duffel bag just to stay with me for a weekend, and I just-- ” Dean’s getting frantic and he tries to reel it in.
“Dean, I want all that, too.” He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, never breaking eye contact. “I’m not planning on moving back to Illinois. Did you think that I still meant it was a possibility?”
“Well, you said that this place has never felt like home to you, and you never unpacked, so…”
“I meant this place, as in this apartment. At one point, yeah, I thought that my moving out here was a mistake. I even drunkenly broke down on Charlie’s couch about it once… but then I met you. And then I fell in love with you . I found a family.” Cas’s eyes glisten with emotion. “You’re my home now, Dean. The address doesn’t matter to me.”
“So is that a yes?” Dean needs to hear the words, afraid to believe them until they’re real.
“Yes. Absolutely yes. Let’s do it.”
Cas beams brighter than Dean thought possible in his state. He bounces off his knees to land himself right back next to his soon-to-be live-in boyfriend, causing Seb to pop his head up and wag his tail, eager to be part of the excitement. As Dean turns back towards Cas, he sees his face waiver.
“Hey, look. We can still take this slow, and we don’t have to hash out the details right now. I know it’s a lot and you’re still sick. We’ll go at your pace, okay?”
“What? No, I’m great. I’m so incredibly happy. If I thought I’d be able to lift boxes, I’d start tomorrow. It’s just that… fuck. You really had to ask that question when I’m not able to kiss you, didn’t you? This is extremely frustrating.” Cas has a cute little grumpy pout on his face and Dean is fighting both the urge to pounce on him and to laugh.
“I’ll kiss you anyway, I don’t care.” He leans forward, but Cas pulls the bedding up over his mouth with a yelp, eyes wide in horror.
“No! You can’t! I would never wish this cursed flu on anyone, especially not you. I won’t risk it, no matter how much and in how many different ways I would currently like to express my… excitement.”
“Okay okay. I surrender. You’re right.”
Satisfied, Cas lowers the sheets and Dean makes his move.
He throws his left hand over Cas’s mouth, his palm against his lips, covering the bottom half of Cas’s face, and leans in to passionately kiss the back of his own hand. Cas’s eyes flair wide until he realizes Dean’s plan, then his eyes crinkle in a muffled laughter and he kisses Dean back, the hand a barrier between their wanting lips.
When they pull away, Cas is laughing and Dean has a satisfied smirk on his face.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Just wait until you’re better.”
Dean throws him a wink and leaps off the bed to go wash his hands. He may be downright desperate to kiss Cas through the night until the sun comes up on a new day, but the rational and very un-fun part of him knows that the flu, in all its misery, wouldn’t be worth the few seconds of makeout bliss. Plus, it would only delay their sexy time even longer, and that just won’t do. Guess he’ll just have to make up for it later.
*****
Dean ends up taking two days off work to play nurse and tend to Cas’s every ailing need, and not at all in part because it’s the perfect excuse to finish their Star Wars marathon - that’s just a happy coincidence. On Wednesday night, Charlie comes home and picks up Seb, refusing to leave the apartment until they grovel for her forgiveness for both worrying her and for the movie marathon betrayal. Dean now owes her a weekend of handmaiden duties at her next LARPing event as restitution. He pretends to be upset about it.
It takes nearly two weeks before Cas is fully on his feet again. Luckily, he’s able to work from home in that time and his colleagues are more than happy to allow him to stay away from the office, but it makes him a little stir crazy. Dean shows up at his apartment one afternoon after work and finds that Cas has pulled out every box that he had stashed in closets and cabinets. Cas looks exhausted, but there is no arguing against the pride painted across his face. He’s so eager and pleased with himself that Dean abandons his plans for a relaxing movie night, sets his stuff down on the couch, makes them a couple of sandwiches, and they work together to sort through more boxes.
Considering most everything Cas owns is either already packed or is getting donated, the moving process is a fairly simple one. They had announced their moving plans to the family after Cas got to feeling better and, of course, everyone pitches in to help, even Sam. They’d decided that Cas would move into Dean’s apartment for the time being, but that they would then take their time and look for something a little bigger soon after - a place that was just theirs, together.
It’s finally their first night as official live-in boyfriends, Cas having turned in the keys to his own apartment earlier in the morning, and Dean comes home from work to a bottle of champagne on ice, take-out food on the table, the aroma of a cherry pie filling the air, and an unfairly attractive man waiting for him in the living room. Dean swears that the smile that splits Cas’s face could end wars and create world peace.
“Welcome home, sweetheart” Cas beams, and for a moment, the world stops, as does Dean’s heart.
Dean drops his bags and kicks off his shoes with record speed trying to cross the apartment to get to Cas. This is everything he wants; coming home to the place he shares with the man he loves, Cas waiting for him with a smile on his face, and knowing that he has nowhere else to be because this is where he lives now. This is where he belongs.
Dean crosses the room in determination, his hand sliding up the side of Cas’s jaw as he sinks their mouths together in a passionate kiss. His other hand slips around Cas’s waist as he draws him in closer, their hips pressing against each other, Cas’s arms wrapping around his back and shoulders in an intimate embrace.
He doesn’t slow down. He can’t. Want and desire and need take control and he is powerless to try and stop it, not that he wants to, not that Cas wants to. Dean backs Cas against the kitchen counter, bodies frantic.
They christen the kitchen. And then the bedroom.
Sure, they’ve done it before, many times, but tonight is different, it’s more profound. Tonight, there is no impending question of when Cas will have to leave next. Tonight, Cas will find his things amongst Dean’s and will tuck into the bed that they now share. Tonight, they start the rest of forever together.
Urges satiated and food finally eaten, Dean lies in bed with Cas, loose and content. Cas is resting against his chest as Dean lazily runs his fingers along Cas’s arm, comfortable in their silence in that special way that only lovers can be.
“Dean?”
“Hmmmm?”
“How did you know to come looking for me when I got sick? I know I didn’t answer my phone, but that wouldn’t have been enough to send out a search party. What made you come find me, really?”
His words are hesitant and Dean stiffens against the question. He’s wondered if Cas would eventually ask this. He takes a deep breath, knowing that the truth is the only right way to answer.
“If I tell you the truth, you might think I’m a little crazy, or weird.”
“I won’t think you’re crazy and I already think you’re weird.”
Dean huffs a laugh at that and he can feel Cas smile against his chest as the arm he has draped across it squeezes just a little tighter.
“I had a dream that you weren’t well and that something was wrong. It was very… realistic. I woke up from it and I just couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed my help and that maybe you were in trouble, so I went to find you.”
“Do you… had you dreamt about me before?” Dean’s first instinct is to make a lewd joke, but the seriousness behind Cas’s question prevents him. How is he supposed to answer this? He’s had all kinds of dreams about Cas, some so realistic that they border on the verge of frightening. His mind is racing with how best to respond when Cas speaks again. “Because I’ve had dreams about you before. I’ve been having them, for a long time.”
“What do you mean?” Dean isn’t sure where this is going, so he does his best to stay relaxed, keeping up the motion of his hand across Cas’s arm to help keep the nervous energy at bay. He feels Cas take a long, slow inhale before he continues.
“Promise you won’t think I’m the weird one?”
“I already do.”
Cas takes a moment before he continues, breathing steadily and taking comfort in Dean’s touch.
“When things began to go downhill with Mick, I started having these dreams. There was this man… actually, he wasn’t really a man at all, at least not in the regular sense of the term. It was like… well, I knew it was a person, but in the beginning, he was more of a figureless spirit, kinda like a soul, I guess. He would appear as a glowing light, and he was beautiful. I felt drawn to him, like he needed me and I was meant to help him.” Cas pauses, but continues when Dean doesn’t interrupt.
“This is stupid, but the dream grew more persistent when Mick broke up with me, and it was almost comforting in a way. The light shone brightest when I decided to move to California and I somehow knew that I was making the right decision. Then, on my flight over, I vividly remember dreaming of looking over a wooded area. In the middle, the trees were blown outward, and in the center, there was an empty space. From that space, a hand reached up for me and I woke up. I knew it was him, it was the man reaching for me.”
Dean’s pulse quickens but he wants to hear more and doesn’t dare disrupt the story. He doesn’t know what any of this means, but it feels significant, and if Cas’s tone of voice is anything to go by, Cas feels it, too.
“The strange dreams kept happening, but the man in them… the man I knew I was supposed to save… I never saw his face...”
Cas lifts his head and looks up at him then. He’s looking at Dean like he’s staring into his soul and Dean can’t tear his eyes away. He feels like Cas is putting him together piece by piece and if he moves or even blinks, it will all come crashing down.
“... until you.”
Dean makes a small, inhaled gasp. He’s having trouble remembering to breathe. He’s enthralled, frozen in captivation. Not looking away, Cas continues.
“After I met you on the beach that day, I knew you were him. Over and over again, I saw your face. The dreams became like bread crumbs, always leading me right to where I needed to be. Right to you.”
“Cas...” Dean says his name on an exhale, like giving voice to a prayer.
“I know it’s a lot and I know it sounds crazy, but--”
“It’s not crazy. My dreams started the day I met you. They haven’t stopped since, and when you got sick? It was like I knew you needed me. I couldn’t explain it, but I just knew .”
“So you have them, too?” Dean nods and something washes over Cas, like he’s fitting the final pieces of a puzzle together and it’s beginning to make sense. Cas looks out the window in contemplation, the light outside getting dimmer, making the room glow with an orange hue. “Do you think… do you think that maybe this is bigger than us? That maybe we were always meant to find each other and that this was the universe’s way of pointing us in the right direction?” He looks back at Dean. “Do you believe in fate?”
“I never put much thought into it, but I’d be lying if I said that this didn’t kinda freak me out a little. I just… I don't’ know, Cas.”
Dean has never considered the concepts of fate and destiny and all that jargon, has always chalked it up to religious ideology and the stuff of Hallmark movies, but how can he say that now? He knew the dreams he had of Cas were something unique, but that never really meant anything, at least not until Cas got sick and his dream felt more like a premonition. And learning that Cas has had them, too?
“It’s just that, my dreams, many of them have felt so real. Tangible. More like they were--”
“Memories.” Dean finishes.
They look at each other, the air leaving the room while the weight of the thought settles, too heavy to ignore.
“Do you really think?” Cas asks, and Dean laughs because it’s the only way he can manage to respond.
“I doubt it. I had a dream one time that you were a fucking mermaid. You were being kept in a tank on the this big ass boat. Me, Sam, and Jess were all trying to rescue you. It was kind of epic, explosions and mutiny and all that cool pirate type of shit, but I doubt that it could have been a memory.”
Cas stares, his jaw hanging open.
“Dean. I’ve had the same dream. After I was rescued, you came to get me. You found me again.”
“Holy shit. Yeah. Yes. I dreamt that part, too.” Now it’s time for Dean’s jaw to drop.
“Did you have the one where we lived together in a forest? I had these massive black wings and you were--”
“An angel hunter. Yeah. Had that one, too.”
“Fuck.”
“Cas, this is…”
“Yeah.”
For hours, they sit and share their dreams, remembering the happiest of them, confiding which ones made them laugh or which ones caused them pain. Cas’s favorite recurring dreams are the ones where he’s an Angel with giant, ethereal black wings. Cas likes it best when he can fly. Dean’s favorites are the ones where he drives his Baby across the U.S. fighting monsters and being an all around badass. He likes it best when he gets to defeat the bad guys and be a hero.
Each dream is like a story from another life, plucked from another timeline. Most dreams they’ve had in common while some are just their own, but in every single one of them, they are together; Dean with his angel and Cas with his hunter, and every version in between.
Perhaps the most coincidental dream of them all is the one that they discover they dreamt on the exact same night, almost as if they were sharing the same conscience. It was the night they first said that they loved each other, and they both dreamed of Dean’s bar and the house on the lake he had built just for them. Dean admits that it was then that he knew he could spend his life with Cas.
“I could just see it so clearly, ya know? I had everything in that life. I had the perfect job and my amazing family, I had built the perfect house and I even had Baby, but none of it felt right until you walked through the doors. You showed up and it was like coming up for air when I didn’t even realize I was drowning. You did that for me in the dream, and I realized then that you did that for me in reality, too”
Cas agrees with tears in his eyes.
The sun sinks behind the horizon and casts the world into darkness, but still they discuss. They hang on each other’s words, fascinated by everything coming to light. It’s as if their world and everything they know to be real is exploding around them, and yet it all feels smaller than it ever has before - everything coming down to this night and the two of them. The rest of the world is black and white while they see each other in technicolor. The universe spins while they stand still. In this moment, every being, every atom in creation revolves around them.
They exist only for each other. Dean wonders if they always have.
Hours later, through their bedroom window and out into the sky beyond, the first signs of sunrise can be seen in the new morning’s gentle glow. Dean fights his exhaustion and knows Cas is doing the same, having seen him start to nod off more than once, both of them too stubborn to admit their inevitable defeat against sleep. Neither wants to fall asleep first, each trying their damndest to hold onto consciousness for fear of somehow breaking the spell that they’ve found themselves under.
“You know, I think I kinda like the idea.” Dean breaks the silence, teetering on the cusp of delirium and absolute clarity.
“Which one?” Cas asks through a yawn.
“That maybe you and I… we’re soulmates and this is fate. That maybe, just maybe , our dreams are glimpses into alternate realities. That there are an infinite number of parallel universes and that we’re meant to find each other in every single one of them. That even if we’re badass cowboy boyfriends, or we’re soldiers in World War II barely surviving, or even if we’re just two lost lovers reuniting in a bar, we will always end up together. Somehow, someway.”
They’re laying on their sides under the covers, facing one another, and Cas brings his hand to Dean’s face, gently brushing aside a strand of soft hair on his forehead, his hand slipping down Dean’s jaw, a thumb caressing his cheekbone.
“Always.”
Dean looks into Cas’s eyes and sees his entire world looking back at him. How? How could this one man turn his life upside down, only so he could finally feel right side up? Dean’s heart clenches in a painful twist, his love for Cas all consuming and the thought of being without him unbearable.
“Promise me, Cas.”
Cas tips their foreheads together, leaning in and speaking low, like he’s got the secret to life itself wrapped up in his words. For Dean, he does.
“I promise I will always find you, Dean. In this life and the next and the one after that, and for a million lifetimes left to come. I’ll always find you in the next.”
Dean stares into Cas’s glistening blue eyes, not sure if the glint is from unshed tears or just a reflection of the first light of day peeking through the window, but for a flash of a moment, they seem to shine with an angelic blue glow, and God, is he beautiful.
Dean’s eyes slip closed as he finally lets sleep overcome him, giving voice to one last thought as he does.
“If this is just another dream in another universe, I’m glad it’s a happy one. I love you, Cas.”
“I love you, too, Dean.”
They fall asleep in each other’s arms, safe and comforted in the knowledge that they are exactly where they’re meant to be. And just before Dean falls asleep, he swears he hears one last thing whispered into his ear.
I told you I’d find you.
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