Love Is Like a Torch (It's Burning Bright)
By: TheFifthCharmedOne
Disclaimer: Nope. Kripke owns the characters, the show just owns my soul.
Summary: [Sequel to When They Think of Me (They Think of You)] Six months later, nobody expected this to happen. "What did you think? We were all going to live happily ever after? Please. Spare me your sparkly bullshit." – Destiel, Sabriel, Anna/Charlie/Jo, Jess/Garth, and others.
-X-X-X-
Chapter One: Afraid To Be Happy
Castiel Novak was a man of many things.
He was a loyal brother, a dedicated academic, a skilled artist, a recent graduate school alumnus, and a proud gay man.
His 6'0 frame was currently covered by a dark blue Christmas sweater and khaki dress pants. His sweater had obnoxious Christmas trees and reindeer art on it, on the back one of the animals was urinating on an evergreen tree. Despite the ridiculousness of it however, Cas appreciated its sentimentality, as it had been a gag gift from his brother Gabriel two Christmases previous.
He was currently holding a mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, and each time he sipped, he'd have to lick away the cream from his upper lip.
He could feel his boyfriend's eyes on him as he did it, and he tried not to smirk.
"You bastard." Dean growled into his ear. "You're doing that on purpose."
"What? I'm drinking my hot chocolate, Dean." Cas said as innocently as he could.
"Uh huh." Dean crowded closer and took the mug from Cas's hands, set it on the table, and crashed their lips together. Cas's squeak turned into a moan, and his hands instantly went to the back of Dean's neck.
Soon enough, they were horizontal on the couch, the Christmas movie they'd been watching long forgotten.
Dean mumbled something against Cas's neck.
"What?" Cas asked, breath hitching as Dean's hand gravitated closer to the zipper of his pants.
"Move in with me."
Cas froze. Dean shifted back so that he met the other man's gaze, his green eyes soft with affection but also nervousness. "You're here all the time anyway," Dean continued, his teeth coming out to pull over his bottom lip. "I just figured…"
"Yes." Cas said, surprising himself with the certainty in his voice. "Yes. I'll move in with you."
Dean's smile is so wide and happy, Cas swore that their outdoor decorations brightened a little.
-X-X-X-
The next day, Dean and Cas went to their local IKEA (even though Cas was unsure about putting the furniture together themselves) and bought a king size bed.
"This is awesome," Dean said happily as he and Cas ate lunch in the store. "Expensive, but awesome."
"I agree." Cas said, biting into his barbecue chicken sandwich. "So, should we start putting the bed together today?"
Dean swallowed a bite of his burger and pursed his lips in thought. He had a little bit of ketchup on his chin, and Cas reached over to wipe it away with his finger.
"Do you have to be so blatantly affectionate?" A woman asked them, scowling. Her bleached blond hair was perfectly straight, her pink tracksuit open to show off her overly exaggerated cleavage. "There are children present." Indeed, there were toddlers and school-age children playing in the nearby attraction.
Suddenly losing his appetite, Cas leaned back from Dean, his face flaming in mortification.
"What the fuck is your problem, lady?" Dean demanded, and Cas's head shot up at the pure anger in Dean's voice. The other man got to his feet. "It's not like we're having sex in front of you, you might enjoy it too much."
"Why I never-!" The woman cried, scandalized.
"Dean, let's just go." Cas urged, nervously glancing around at the other patrons, as they were starting to stare.
"No, Cas. We have every right to be here, just like she does." Dean sat down emphatically, biting into his burger and chewing, only to open his mouth with the partially chewed food inside to show her. "See? Eating. Just like you're enjoying your rabbit food." He gestured to her salad.
"Dean," Cas said quietly, but emphatically. "Please."
"Is there a problem here?" A tall, African American man approached them, wearing a security guard's uniform. His eyebrows were crinkled, emphasizing his receding hairline. His nametag read: "Rufus".
"Oh thank God." The woman proclaimed. "Can you please escort these two men out of here?"
"For what, ma'am?" the guard asked, glancing at Cas and Dean speculatively, but not judgmentally.
"For…" she made a disgusted face. "For broadcasting their lifestyle. It's ruining my lunch."
"Lifestyle?!" Dean shouted, slamming his hands down on the table. "I'm sorry, did you choose to be straight?"
Indecision crossed the woman's face momentarily, and the guard seemed briefly conflicted. As he looked at Dean closer though, any worry he might have had cleared from his face.
"To keep the peace, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." he said.
Dean and Cas turned to stare at him, only to be completely shocked when they realized the guard wasn't talking to them.
The guard was talking to the woman.
"Are you talking to me?" She demanded. "I didn't do anything wrong!"
"You violated store policy by openly discriminating against a protected class." The guard told her. "Now, please leave. Your food will be discarded for you."
The woman grabbed her purse in a huff.
"Come on, Larry!" she screeched at her presumed husband, who had been watching the whole thing unfold in a spellbound silence. He stumbled to his feet and picked up the baby carriage that had been at his feet, the infant sleeping soundly inside. "Expect to hear from my lawyer!" the woman told the guard.
She stomped away, but not before spitting a final slur at Cas and Dean.
"Faggots."
Rage flushed through Dean's body and he made to charge after the woman, but Cas pulled him into an embrace, pressing his chin against his boyfriend's shoulder.
"Let's go home, Dean. Please."
The anger disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Dean thanked the guard before walking away, he and Cas holding hands, and not giving a damn who saw or what they thought.
"Winchester!" The guard called, and the couple turned back. "Give Bobby Singer my regards."
Dean's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked between the man's nametag and his face. "You look so much like your daddy, it's a wonder you're not his clone. Got your mama's light hair though."
"Rufus?" Dean's eyes widened like saucers. "Holy shit man, how've you been? I didn't even recognize you!"
"That's the point," Rufus moved closer to the two men and said in a theatrical whisper, "I'm working a case."
"Rufus works for the FBI," Dean explained to Cas. "He and Bobby have been friends for a couple decades at least. He used to hang around Singer Auto before he became a big shot."
"Boy, I'm not that old." Rufus complained. "That oversensitive bitch needed to get out, though. You two weren't even doing anything wrong." Dean grinned.
"Turner!" A new voice shouted, and the three men saw a tall, slightly heavyset man in a guard's uniform staring at them, arms crossed angrily. The homophobic woman was smirking beside him.
"Well, shit." Rufus grunted. "You guys better get gone. Good seeing you, though."
-X-X-X-
"For the record, you've never been more attractive to me than you were in that moment." Cas told Dean once they were in the Impala, their new bed packed into the trunk.
"Is that so?" Dean asked, pressing his foot lazily against the brake pedal as they approached a traffic light. "Remind me to stand up to more homophobic bitches in the future, then."
Cas snickered, but then looked down at his lap.
"I suppose you're wondering why I wasn't filled with righteous anger at the whole event," Cas began, but Dean shook his head as the light turned green.
"I would have been shocked if you had, and probably made out with on the spot, but that's not the point. You're not a confrontational person, Cas. You avoid conflict whenever you can. Prob'ly has something to do with your brothers."
"You know about my brothers?" Cas asked.
"Not a whole lot. Sammy told me a little, but not the whole story. I was waitin' for you to come clean when you were ready."
Floored by the patience and understanding Dean showed, Cas took the next opportunity to kiss him soundly on the lips, ending it once he felt the car begin to accelerate.
"Mm, you taste like barbecue sauce," Dean grinned, and Cas smiled affectionately. "I think I wanna christen our mattress tonight, what do you say?"
Cas looked up at him with a sultry smirk.
"What did you have in mind?"
-X-X-X-
"Dean, really, Anna has more important things to do." Cas said uncomfortably as he and Dean walked toward Anna and Gabriel's apartment.
"Why don't we let her decide that?" Dean challenged, and Cas groaned.
"You're really hell bent on this, aren't you?" asked Cas, nervously shifting his sketchbook from one arm to the other.
Dean stopped walking and grabbed Cas's hand, rubbing his thumb across Cas's knuckles.
"I'm just proud of you. I want everyone to see how talented you are." Dean told him sweetly, and Cas huffed out a laugh.
"How am I supposed to argue with that?" Cas wanted to know.
"You're not." Dean pecked Cas on the lips just as they arrived at the doorstep of Cas's former abode.
-X-X-X-
"Yeah, of course I'll paint these!" Anna Novak said cheerfully. "Might need some kickback for the supplies though."
"No problem." Dean said, and she smiled winningly at him. "So how are things with you and Charlie lately?"
For the last six months, Anna had been dating Dean's childhood friend Charlie Bradbury, and to the best of their knowledge, they were quite happy together.
Cas watched his sister's expression change almost imperceptibly. It wasn't something Dean would notice, or Anna would likely even realize that she'd done.
Her mouth fell into the tiniest of frowns before becoming her normal bright smile again.
"We're all right. She's busy getting used to living with Jo, I've got to prepare my lesson plans for next semester…" Anna had recently taken a position with Lawrence Public Schools as the third grade art teacher.
Those sound like excuses to me. Dean thought, his personal red flags going up. He didn't want to cause any unnecessary problems though, so he kept his opinions to himself.
"Oh, by the way," Anna said to Cas, her voice light. "I found an old photo album that we managed to salvage from the fire. It was on the floor of my room when we ran out."
Dean's eyebrows furrowed – fire? He looked over at Cas, only to see his boyfriend staring at his feet. "Oh. You didn't know." Anna said softly. "I'll…give you a minute."
Anna slipped out of her studio and left the two alone.
"You know that Anna, Gabriel and I spent the majority of my childhood on the road; but did you ever wonder why?"
Dean thought about it – in his attempt to wait for Cas to tell him when he was ready, he hadn't really tried to piece it together on his own. He shook his head in answer to Cas, and the dark-haired man leaned his head back, eyes closed. "I have a total of four older brothers, and one sister. I was born in Salt Lake City, Utah; also known as the most religious city in the domestic United States. We were all named for angels: Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Anna, Gabriel, and me. When I was still in grade school, my mother died. Our father told us it was an accident, and then he left too."
Cas finally looked over at Dean. "You can see why I have abandonment issues." he said drily. Dean cracked a smile and prompted Cas to continue. "Michael and Lucifer took over raising us, as they were legally adults by the time our father disappeared. Raphael was arrested when he was thirteen, and sent to juvie. When he was released five years later, he came home and confronted Michael and Lucifer. I don't know everything that they said; Gabriel and Anna covered my ears. The next morning, Gabriel shook me awake and told me the house was on fire. He, Anna, and I escaped. Raphael wasn't home, and Michael had gone out."
"Your brother set your house on fire?!" Dean cried, unable to contain himself any longer.
"Yes." Cas said bluntly, never one to beat around the bush. "Anna almost suffered a psychotic break-"
"You would too if your big brother tried to kill you." Anna said from the doorframe, where she had been leaning for the last few minutes. "Then we moved in with this elderly couple, the Miltons, and the rest is history."
Dean blew out a long sigh.
"That's some heavy stuff." Dean began. "So you lost everything?"
"Yep." Anna walked in and knelt down by a cardboard box. "Except this." She beckoned the two men over, and they leaned over her shoulder to look inside.
The first picture was of a dark haired and fully bearded man and a smiling blond woman. A small blond boy was giving a brown haired boy bunny ears, a dark-skinned boy was scowling into the camera; a boy that Dean recognized as Gabriel had both Anna and Cas in headlocks.
"This was a few months before our mother died." Anna said. "We were a happy family."
She suddenly stood and gave the album to Cas. "You can look through it, I already did. Charlie's coming over soon, so I should head downstairs to meet her."
Cas sat down and folded his legs into a pretzel. Dean joined him, stretching his legs out as Cas pointed to each of his siblings. "Raphael was adopted. Michael and Lucifer were twins, and then Anna was born with the recessive Novak red hair. Gabriel came next, and then me."
"You were cute even as a kid." Dean said, and Cas rolled his eyes affectionately.
"I always looked up to Michael, always thought he was the greatest big brother ever." Cas confessed. "I guess you could say I idolized him."
"I did the same thing with my dad." Dean told him. "Kind of explains why Sam was his favorite."
As they went through the album, Dean asked questions about Cas's family, and what life on the road was like.
"Michael and Lucifer don't even look like siblings, let alone twins." Dean commented. "You look a lot like your dad."
"Gabriel says I got his looks." Cas said, and Dean sensed a new tension in his tone, and reached over to close the album. "Dean-"
"This is upsetting you."
"How do you know?"
Dean blinked, surprised at the anger in Cas's question. "I'm sorry." Cas sighed after a few minutes. "I was hoping it wasn't obvious. I want to share this with you, I do. It's just…" he shrugged helplessly.
"I can read you like a book." Dean cupped Cas's face in his palm, turning the other man to face him. "What're you scared of?"
"Being too happy." Cas admitted. "You see it in the pictures – every time I've been happy, tragedy has followed. When I was younger, I believed I was cursed."
"Nah." Dean said, kissing Cas's forehead, nose, then either side of his lips. "Curses ain't real." The timbre of his voice became more rough, but smooth at the same time – like uneven molasses. Cas shivered.
"You did that on purpose." he accused, his face flaming when he realized what Dean was doing. "You know that does things to me."
Dean smirked innocently.
"Payback's a bitch."
-X-X-X-
Sam Winchester was a simple man. He needed the bare necessities to be happy, and had been blessed so far with a solid family, awesome friends, and an amazing boyfriend.
His fingers danced over the keyboard of his ancient PC laptop, bringing life to all of the ideas in his head. His tongue was even curled over the right side of his lip as he worked, so he jumped slightly when he felt strong arms slip around him from behind.
"Mmm, come to bed Sam," Gabriel murmured in his ear. "I miss you."
"Be there in a minute," Sam said, clicking save on the document and closing it before Gabriel could start reading it.
"Whatcha workin' on?" Gabriel asked through a yawn, straightening up and stretching. He wore grey boxers and no shirt, and his hair was rumpled from sleep. Sam stood up for the first time in at least six hours, leaning back and stretching. He winced as his joints popped in protest.
"Nothing important." Sam answered, removing his glasses and placing them on the desk.
Though he still technically lived with his ex-fiancé Jess, Sam spent far more time in Gabriel and Anna's duplex. In fact, unless he had to go back to take Jess to work or something else routine, he basically lived with Gabriel. "Hey I'm not…you know, mooching off of you, am I?"
"Sam, it's 3 A.M. I don't want to answer your silly questions." Gabriel told him. "But if I did want too, I'd say no. Mooching is when you overstay your welcome – trust me, I've done that a few times over the years – but I want you here. Anna loves you cuz' you understand the difference between vegan and vegetarian, but also cuz' you make me happy and junk." Gabriel tilted his head in the way that Cas often did when he didn't understand something. "Why?"
"No reason." Sam said. "I just…with Jess and Garth getting more and more serious…"
Gabriel said nothing as he wrapped his fingers around Sam's hand and pulled him onto their bed and kissed him passionately.
"Why Sammy…" Gabriel said in a scandalized tone. "Are you asking to move in?"
"Only Dean calls me Sammy," Sam grumbled, not answering the question. Gabriel chuckled.
"You're so cute, you know that?" the shorter man informed him. "Let's talk about this more in the morning. The longer we stay horizontal like this, the more interested my cock gets."
Indeed, Sam could feel Gabriel's half hard dick pressing against his thigh. Sam pressed his weight into his hands and knees and ground his hips against Gabriel's tauntingly. He then rolled over to his side of the bed and curled up as though he was going to go to sleep right then and there.
"Oh, you little tease." Gabriel growled, and tackled Sam, living concerns forgotten for the moment.
-X-X-X-
Around 9 AM, Sam's nostrils picked up on the scent of rich cinnamon and maple syrup, but the smell was far too close to be coming from the kitchen. He opened his eyes and found Gabriel, now wearing his favorite lounging pants and a Las Vegas, Nevada t-shirt, holding a platter of perfectly baked pancakes with bananas on top, a cup of coffee, and a glass of juice.
"What's this for?" Sam asked.
"You looked so cute sleeping that I didn't want to wake you. So I brought you breakfast in bed." Sam reached up to take the tray.
"You didn't have to do that." Sam told him, touched that Gabriel had done something so sweet.
"I wanted too. Plus, it'll give me practice."
"Practice?" asked Sam, picking up his knife and fork. Gabriel paused, but Sam knew he'd say what he wanted to say eventually.
Buttery deliciousness filled Sam's mouth as he took a bite, and he moaned in appreciation. He made sure to lather the pancakes with syrup, the way he had when he and Dean were kids. He ate so fast that he was probably going to have some indigestion later, but looked up when his boyfriend spoke.
"I want to open my own bakery."
Sam turned to look at Gabriel, who had moved to sit beside him on the bed. "Spending most of my teenage years on the run, it gave me a chance to really figure out what I wanted to do once I settled down. Now that we're here in Lawrence, no brothers or baggage in sight…I just can't help but feel like this is the perfect time."
"Go for it!" cheered Sam, and Gabriel glanced at him in surprise.
"No 'it's going to take a long time' or 'it's silly' lectures?"
"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't support your dreams? You've never discouraged me from college or law school, why should I try and stop you from starting your own business, especially if this is," he gestured to the empty plate "-is the result?"
For some reason, Gabriel felt a laugh bubbling in his chest. He knew it wasn't exactly the right time, but he couldn't stop once he got started. He let out a full guffaw, the kind that made is hard to breathe and had him holding his stomach.
He saw Sam was giving him a bitch face, and that just made him smirk.
"I couldn't help myself, you were just being so sweet and earnest." Sam mumbled something, but instead of questioning what it was, Gabriel removed the tray and set it aside. "Now, what do you say we finish what we started last night?"
-X-X-X-
Winter sunlight shone brightly on the roof of the bright red Chevy Camaro that Dean was working on. His scooter was firm under his back, rolling slightly as he shifted and worked with the car's inner mechanics.
"Hey Dean!" Bobby shouted, and Dean rolled out from under the car.
"Yeah, Bobby?" he called back.
"Can you come on back to the office for a sec?" Dean stood up and dropped his tools into his nearby toolbox, pulling up the hem of his shirt to dab at the sweat on his forehead. It didn't matter what time of year it was, car garages were always hot and busy.
Dean ambled to the back office, completely unaware of the shadow that followed him.
Gordon Walker was an African American man of medium height and build. He'd been working at Singer Auto since it opened in the late 90s. He'd always been suspicious of Dean and Bobby's bond, because while he and Bobby had gotten along, it was clear that Dean was his favorite.
"Close the door." Dean swung the door to the office shut behind him, but neither man saw Gordon's foot slide between the door and the threshold, stopping it from closing completely.
Bobby had taken off his trucker's hat and was running a hand through his sweaty hair. At 67, he looked pretty good, though bits of gray had begun to sneak into his beard and the top of his hairline.
"Dean, there's no way to sugarcoat this. I ain't gettin' any younger, and with this damned chair, I can't run the shop the way I'd like too. Jo's away at school, Ellen's running the Roadhouse…I can't help but feel like it's time to retire." Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Bobby held up a hand. "It's clear to everyone that knows you you're good with cars, you handle the customers well enough, and my staff respects you."
Gordon had to resist the urge to snort. Respect was a strong word for what Gordon felt about Dean Winchester. "So, I guess what I'm saying is: do you want to take over my shop?"
Dean blinked.
"Bobby, I…"
"Take some time to think about it. Hell, take the rest of the day off. Go home, talk to Cas. There's no time limit on it. I just want to know that the shop will be taken care of."
Jealous rage consumed Gordon as Dean walked right past him in a haze.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Gordon demanded, throwing open the door as soon as Dean was out of hearing range. "Him?!"
"Oh, hey Gordon. Nice of you to drop in." Bobby said, not at all surprised. "How long were you out there eavesdroppin'?"
"Long enough. Bobby, I don't have to tell you that I've been here since you opened. If anyone should take it over, it's me."
"Answer me this: other than years of service, why should I even consider you?"
Gordon licked his lips, any answer disappearing from his mind. "That's what I thought. You're a good mechanic; but it takes more than that to run a business."
"He's an alcoholic!" Gordon protested.
"An alcoholic that's been sober for 912 days. He got his two year sobriety token a few months ago." Bobby said coldly. "And he's going to KU for his Bachelor's degree in Engineering. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you drop out of high school?"
Gordon said nothing as he balled his hands into fists, glaring at the wall. "Now get out of my office." Bobby finished, and Gordon did, slamming the door on his way out.
This isn't over. Gordon thought, staring at Dean as he climbed onto his motorcycle. Not by a long shot.
-X-X-X-
Congratulations! You have completed your application for:
Doctorate in Psychology
at Columbia University!
Please do not call the Office of Admissions unless you have a legitimate concern about your application. It can take up to three months for our staff to make a decision.
Cas leaned back and sighed, running a hand through his hair. New York wasn't around the corner, but a desire to leave, to get away, itched under his skin like a persistent bug bite.
The door to his and Dean's apartment opened and shut, so Cas hastily closed out the browser window. He wasn't going to say anything to Dean until he knew for sure whether he was going or not.
"Cas? You here?" Dean called.
"Hello, Dean," Cas said, and Dean walked over to him, pulled him to his feet, and pressed his forehead against the other man's shoulder. "Are you all right?"
"Been better." Dean answered. "Bobby asked me to take over the shop for him."
Cas pushed Dean and arm's length away and tried to look into his eyes. The green-haired man was staring at the floor.
"Dean, that's fantastic! You've always wanted to own your own shop!"
"Sure, but I never…I don't think I can handle the responsibility."
"And how do you know unless you try?" Cas asked, pulling Dean into a hug once again. "You don't have to make any decisions now. Come on – let's go to the Roadhouse. You'll feel better."
"You're the best, Cas." Dean told him.
Guilt chewed on Cas's heart as Dean looked at him with so much admiration and love in his eyes.
It's only temporary. He told himself. I might not even get in.
As he and Dean bundled up in their winter attire, Cas's stomach rebelled intensely against the idea of food, but he didn't care. The Roadhouse always made Dean feel better, and even if Cas didn't eat, he'd at least get to see Dean smile.
That'd be enough.
-X-X-X-
A/N: Hello out there and welcome to my next Destiel/Sabriel-filled adventure! FYI, this is a sequel to "When They Think of Me (They Think of You)"; but there will be enough of an original plot that I believe this can be read on its own if you so choose.
Please let me know what you think, and I'll see you next time!
-Charmy