Finally, Castiel thought as he plopped the final box down on the floor.
He looked around at the stacks of brown boxes and carelessly strewn trinkets and furniture. The moving was done, but to put everything in its place would take weeks, maybe even months. Surely this couldn't all be his.
Castiel dragged his exhausted body to the backyard, where there sat the only piece of furniture not completely covered by his belongings. He let his body fall onto the stained patio chair and was asleep within seconds.
The smell of withered book pages and freshly polished wood encapsulated Castiel's senses. Castiel's eyes shot open with the familiar smell around him. It didn't take him long to realize where he was. The long black curtain draped in front of him was illuminated only by the vented window to his right. The cramped leg room and wooden bench proved itself to be part of the confession box in Saint Gabriel Church.
If Castiel's memory was right, Pastor John would enter the booth next to him any minute now. Confessing your sins to your life-long family friend and pastor isn't something a righteous man forgets easily. It scares Castiel how vividly he can remember the most humiliating moment of his life, and how often his brain likes to recreate it.
A bright light shines through the vent and into Castiel's eyes, giving the man the false hope that he was waking up. The Pastor apologized for disturbing Castiel, who was obviously in deep thought.
As the man in the booth beside him situated himself on the bench, Castiel could feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest. There was no reason for him to be nervous, Castiel thought, since he'd known this man his entire life and trusted him absolutely.
"Hello Castiel. How're you doing today? It's been a while since we've gotten a chance to talk."
Castiel cleared his throat. "I'm fine, John. I know I should've visited sooner. I've just been busy with the move and everything."
"Well I'm glad to hear you're doin' fine. So what can I help you with, son?"
Now was the moment of truth. Castiel has been trying to get this out for months, and the moment was finally here. He realized that the only reason he was able to do this was because he knows he won't see John or anyone else in the small Colorado town for a long time after today.
"Okay. Well because I don't have much time… I suppose I'll just come out and say it." Castiel could feel himself losing his voice and coughed again to finish what he was trying to say. "When Daphne and I were having problems, some things that I'm not proud of happened."
John gave Castiel a nod that told him it was alright to continue.
"I was in a very bad place… and I was lonely and desperate. Ralph came over to offer his condolences… and… I may have gotten the wrong idea and gotten ahead of myself because… I felt a longing for him…" Castiel covered his face with his hands. Oh, God, this was impossible to say. He gulped and glanced quickly at the pastor. "A… uh… sexual longing." Castiel could feel the temperature in his face rise and his hands instinctively reached up to hide his flustered cheeks.
Castiel could see that John was taken aback, but before he could hear his response, he felt a shaking of his shoulder and felt himself coming to.
A dim orange light shown in Castiel's eyes and he could immediately feel the crick in his neck from being on the uncomfortable lawn chair for too long.
The silhouette of a man leaned over him which caused Castiel to jump out of the chair. It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light enough to focus on the man's face.
"Uh, sorry pal, I didn't mean to scare you. I just saw you sleepin' out here and thought you'd wanna go inside. I'm Dean by the way." The man said with an outstretched hand.
Castiel shook the foreign appendage reluctantly, taking note of the strong and confident hand shake the man had. It complimented his deep gruff voice perfectly. It was then Castiel realized he was staring at the men's hands together, still shaking. He let go and cleared his throat, trying to make the silence between them less awkward.
"I'm Castiel. Thank you for waking me up. I've heard the mosquitos here are quite terrible." Castiel looked away. Small talk was never his specialty, but things seemed incredibly difficult with this stranger.
"Castiel… Interesting name. Well I live right next door." Dean pointed to the peach-colored house just over the neglected hedges. "Sorry I couldn't come over sooner, but I am friendlier than I look. If you ever need a cup of sugar, y'know?" Dean cracked half a smile, causing the corners of his eyes to wrinkle. His smile faded just as soon as it appeared, and he looked around the yard returning the neutral expression to his face.
Castiel wiggled his fingers and looked around, trying to find something to talk about. He was trying not to stare at the man whose features were beautifully complimented by the sunset. While Dean was admiring the backyard and all the fixing up it needed, Castiel snuck peeks at Dean to really see his face.
His new neighbor was a few inches taller than him, standing even taller with his thickly soled boots. Castiel tried to focus on Deans facial features, but he caught himself admiring the toned man standing before him. Dean had begun to ramble about his ability to work with cars and his other handyman skills, which gave Castiel an opportunity to get a good look at Dean's face.
Castiel gazed in awe at the man's unbelievably perfect bone structure, enhanced by the stubble that covered his lip, cheeks and chin. His nose was set just the right distance above his full, well-rounded lips. Even in the bad lighting, Castiel noticed the pools of green with golden specks glinting in the light. Dean's eyes were mesmerizing, but Castiel needed to stop staring. He moved his gaze to his hair, short but long enough to gel up.
Dean had finished his rambling and looked over at Castiel expectantly. Castiel nodded and said, "I appreciate your offer to help me fix this place up, but I don't think I can accept. I wouldn't want to intrude in your busy schedule."
Dean snorted, amused by what Castiel said. "My schedule is anything but busy. You wanna start around 10 on Saturday?"
"Dean y-you don't have t-to, uh," Castiel stuttered, trying to find his words. This isn't what he wanted, is it?
Dean winked at Castiel and started walking backwards towards his house. "See ya Saturday, Castiel."
Just before Dean was out of Castiel's yard, he stopped himself and turned towards Castiel, a confused look on his face. "Hey, you got any nicknames?" Dean shouted across the yard.
Castiel just stood there, dumbfounded. No one had ever tried to give him a nickname. He shook his head slightly, still wrinkling his brow and squinting towards Dean.
"How about…" Dean thought for a moment before it hit him. "Cas." He grinned, proud of his idea. Dean continued walking to his house, stopping only momentarily to mumble something to himself.
"Cas…" Dean smiled and nodded his head.
"Cas…" Castiel thought of his new nickname, and about how wonderful it sounded when Dean said it. "Cas…" He said aloud again, before going inside for the night.