*Like A Rose*
~WhiteGloves~
Fighting on Destiel's side finally ;)
*Enjoy reading*
Chapter One: Meet
Dean was bristling. "No, I won't go out! Ya happy?"
"Bet you 50 bucks you would. It's Valentine's Day. It's Dean's day." Sam quips.
"No."
"C'mon man, why are you so stubborn? There's nothing wrong of you doing your routine work of—of hunting down women who's got the hots on you anyway?"
"That's no crime."
"Exactly—so why are you not—"
"You see—that's the thing—you make it sound so 'routinely' like it's some holiday Turkey I can't get by. Like exposing myself on Valentine 's Day is—is necessarily what I do!"
Sam gave his brother the most incredulous look. "Isn't it? And since when did you give shit of what is routinely as long as you like doing it?"
"Make me feel like a douche."
"What?" the brothers exchanged looks with heavy curt eyebrows. The kitchen table they were sitting by nearly toppled up when Dean flopped and stood.
"Anyway, drop it. I'm not going, that's final." He walked out— but he could hear Sammy call out—
"That makes me so worried. Hey—act like that and the next time I see you I'll throw you a bucket of holy water!"
Sam had been teasing him the whole day of where to go and which bar and city was most popular during Valentine's Day, where he, Dean, could go and leave him, Sam, at peace even for just awhile. The two began arguing about how there was plenty of space in the Bunker that Sam could just disappear into whenever he felt like solitude would do him any good, and that peace was nowhere near their dictionary when all of a sudden his younger brother began attacking his 'habits': that Dean was a master of expectations and though it may not be a bad thing—Sam knows if there was one thing he couldn't be wrong, it would be Dean being the guy who leaves the house on Valentines' Day.
That piqued Dean much and threw the table at his insane brother. There was nothing wrong with living with custom—damn, custom makes him who he is! But just this time, Sam asked for it. Valentine's Day was one of his favorite days—except that time with the cherub who loves giving out bulky hugs— but just to prove Sammy wrong… Everyday's Valentines for him anyway so what's the lost of not going out this particular night to meet beautiful ladies?
He can do this.
No way was Sam correct about his brother. Dean was resolute.
But 11:00 o'clock just hit the spot on the Bunker when Dean was seen climbing the metal stairs and shutting the door close with the impala's key jingling on his hands. He strode out into the night wearing his favorite blue jacket and jeans, in all means of a night out and was already turning the key of his car open when there— looking up and staggering in surprise—he found himself staring at the angel.
"Dammit, Cas!"
Cas was watching him curiously with his pallid face reflecting the shine of the moon.
"I knew you'd say that." The angel offered with eyes falling on his friend's keys. Dean brimmed with a sharp look at the trench coat guy before snapping his baby's door open.
"What? You're going to accuse me of being 'Mr. Routine' guy too?" when the angel did not respond, Dean took a moment to look at him. "You heard me and Sammy?"
"I didn't exactly eavesdrop." Cas looked him straight in the eye of someone confessing an honest crime, "You and Sam were practically shouting. It was kind of difficult to block."
"Yeah, well, you get music once in awhile." Dean frowns. "You were already there? Why didn't you join the convo, you could have added salt to plenty of injury knowing you."
"I didn't want to overstep," Cas looks on his side like he usually does when getting distracted, "this is you and Sam's… space. There was no reason for me to join in."
"Yeah? Or that's you saying you didn't want to join all that human crap?"
Cas shrugs. "Crap."
Dean paused with a strange look at the angel who looked back innocently. Realizing he must've said something uncomfortable, Cas doubled and stepped near the car, eyes turning here and there.
"I didn't want to be a bother. I try my best to come in and out without you guys noticing."
Dean raised his chin, and then the next thing he had put both arms at the top of his baby just to face his lost looking angel friend. "Yeah, Cas and d'you know what I'd call that? A ghost. You're an angel—screw that—you're one of us—act like one. You kick the door if you have to when you want to talk or listen—not with much force though, buddy—like last time you brick-box the kitchen wall—anyways—you join us during meal, you sit in the library to read, you watch porn—that's being with us, Cas. And then there's the constant nagging of supernatural but that's just the icing on the cake, alright? You don't have to come and go like some sort of stranger. Don't be a stranger."
Cas stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Well, it doesn't matter. I don't stay often anyways. When I do, I always make sure you know. I was hoping that was enough."
"You've got to put more back into it." Dean gave him a look before finally sliding inside his baby. When the angel didn't step away from the doorway, the hunter looked thoughtfully at Cas' figure, before leaning by the window.
"You know where I'm going, right Cas?"
"Of course." Cas leaned down too. "The city of transgression; favorite place of pollinating cupids with 100% percent success rate and unsurprisingly 100% unavailability of motels till dawn. Actually till noon. I wonder if you people actually sleep.
Dean made a face. "Wanna join?"
The look on Cas' face was deep, like he was... weighing options. The man rolled his eyes and pushed the door open for him— the next seconds they were already speeding on the highway with Castiel silent and occupied.
Dean watches the rear view mirror first before turning to his buddy.
"What? You remembering your first time in a bar?"
"That felt like only yesterday." Cas hums.
"For you—you're friggin angel. That was years. You should be remembering your day with the bitch who tried to kill you when you were human—"
"She did kill me—"
"Yes—but tonight's' different. Tonight you're the one who's going to kill, okay?"
Cas paused, and gave a slight turn of his head. "Are we talking about having sex?"
"Oh, yes we are." He smiled, but then realizing what he said, Dean nearly breaks his neck shaking his head. With a glare and a lick of his lips, he charged— "We are. No—not 'we'…'you' are and 'me'… I am having…dammit." He glared again and hit the honk of the car agitatedly, "Stop putting words in my mouth Cas!"
"I'm not." The angel looked ahead looking quite surprised himself but unanswered. "I'm sorry."
Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. "Anyways, you and I—once we're in the bar—we go separate ways okay? We can't be seen together by ladies, we can't. You know the next thing the girls won't even look at me. They won't like me."
The man felt the angel's staring eyes for about a minute, and was glad when it was over but then—
"Yeah, well, I like you."
Dean sighs. Of all of his friend's much honesty this was one Dean was very careful with. But hey—he also liked the angel, and he knows his friend means the same. Heck—they're friends! "Please, Cas. You don't go saying that around, okay? And no why's—remember what I told you about some things unexplainable?"
"You mean supernatural?"
"Human natural."
"Fine. But I don't think an angel like me should go to wherever we're heading. I had an excuse before—I was human—"
"Now you're a fallen angel—not a saint. Live to the expectations."
"Like how you're living to Sam's expectations, you mean."Castiel nodded his head and Dean turned to him and gave a final shake of his head.
When the two landed on what of the city's most crowded bar, Dean was all-ears-split-smiling at all the gals, winking here and there, almost forgetting the angel still strutting behind him. When on the next five minutes he felt Cas still back there bumping on him on every turn did Dean turn finally.
"Cas, what did I tell you the first time?"
Castiel squinted at him carefully—"You asked me 'Who are you?... and I answered 'I'm the one who gripped you tight'—" he stopped in midair when he saw Dean's expression, especially when two ladies walked by and gave them meaningful looks. Dean watched them go.
"Funny, chuckles." He turned to the angel, "This is where we separate, remember? You've been living here on earth for years, you know how to move your ass around. Now stick to our rules, no commitment whatever just—have fun, alright? It's Valentines!"
"Dean—"
"We don't know each other!"
Dean turned and waved to the brunette eyeing him deviously by the bartender's talbe and sat with her to chat. Things began skyrocketing after that and he forgot his angel friend and concentrated on Lora's name. For the next hour, Dean offered the usual drink—one, two glasses— the common sharing of his job bout' hunting bad bad wolves that get paid in giggles from the feminine company; how his brother was a jock, a nerd and a total mother goose, how the Impala at the parking lot was his and why—the usual timer—why he was so attractive himself. It was a great night and Dean could just see himself winning the night with her when at the corner of his eyes he saw a trench coat swing by with another company.
Great ol' Cas now all grown up—?
It took Dean moments to realize he had followed the figure and watched the entire episode of his friend, Castiel, the angel sit down by one of the chairs with another man—a lean, tall, dark haired man wearing a neat comfy red jacket and jeans— a typical guy you see every day. There, sitting with Cas.
The hunter blinked again and watched the two in deep conversation.
Then he felt a touch on his arm and realize Lora was calling his attention. Dean gave her a chuckle and a shake of head, implying he heard what she said, but then he sneaked another look on the angel's direction and saw him—Castiel—smiling like he heard holy Chuck's good news. The unknown guy beside him was grinning too, like he just told the jackpot joke of the season. With eyes turning large, Dean sat straight and was distracted for awhile.
Did Cas just got himself a… boyfriend?
~TBC~
A/N: only a couple of chapters
~Thanks for Reading~