Dean looked up at the waitress, assessing her. She was pretty. And then there was a certain vibe about her that said "back off" which gave a little flavor. He chose to ignore what that might have said about him.
"Mandy," Dean said, turning on the charm. "That short for Amanda?"
The waitress didn't even look up as she let a condescending "duh," slip from her mouth.
Dean shrugged it off as he closed his menu. Can't win them all. The hustle of the diner grew louder in the background as there were a few more less-than-cordial exchanges while Mandy took the other orders.
Finally, her eyes landed on Cas. Dean smirked. It's not like the angel would eat the food anyway.
But suddenly, Mandy was looking right into Cas's eyes, and, for the first time since she came to their table, she didn't look pissed off that she was having to work. In fact, she looked intrigued. No, not intrigued. Interested?
Dean shifted in his seat.
"And how 'bout you, handsome?" she asked.
Interested. Definitely interested. Dean swallowed, fighting off the strange sensation growing in his chest that was making it hard to breathe. He moved again.
I'm moving too much, he thought, am I moving too much? Suddenly, he was so unnaturally still that he swore someone was going to call him out for his over-correction.
He leaned forward in his chair. "Oh dude, she is into you," he said. He heard a murmur of agreement to his left. There, he thought, Problem Solved.
"Dean," came Mary's voice from across the table.
"No, we've been looking for teachable moments," Dean interrupted as he forced a small laugh "this. . ." He played it off lightly, throwing a wink an a click of his tongue towards Cas's straight expression.
With the buzz of Mary's phone, the conversation took a detour.
Dean should have felt relieved. He should have let it go. Instead, he found himself sneaking another peek back at the waitress as his hands grew clammy.
"Nobody cares," he interrupted Sam with a growl. "Cas, here's the thing you need to know about waitresses, okay? They get hit on all day long, so you gotta bring your A-game, but, upside" Dean added another click of the tongue for good measure, "they always smell like food."
Wally was nodding next to him in agreement, echoing "they always smell like food."
Vaguely he heard Sam start to protest in the background. Dean joined in the discussion, words starting to blend together as they all began to argue.
Suddenly, Mary was slamming her palm on the table, bringing their focus back to her. Right. Back to business.
When the waitress brought the food over, Dean forced himself to wink at Cas, head nodding towards Mandy knowingly as she leaned over the table:
Cas squinted and tilted his head.
When Sam wasn't looking, Dean purposefully knocked over his glass of water, summoning Mandy back to help with the spill:
Cas was paying attention to Mary.
When Mandy was at a nearby table, Dean waved her over, asking her for salt. She pointed to the salt in front of him blank faced and wordlessly. Dean shrugged. She scowled at him, and smiled at Cas. Dean gave Cas a smirk:
Cas was starting to look suspicious.
At the end of the meal, Dean had barely eaten anything. Still, unusually, he didn't feel very hungry. Instead, he found himself sliding a pen and napkin over to Cas, wiggling his eyebrows up and down knowingly.
Cas was staring. Mary was staring. The whole table was staring. Dean's heart was acting like he's just been for a run and not slouching in a diner chair eating burgers.
Finally, Cas spoke:
"Dean," he said, his tone calm, "do you want me to give Mandy my number?"
It was a strange question. But, suddenly, it made Dean's actions look even stranger in context. Deep down he knew it was a cover. Deep down, he knew it was the last thing he wanted.
So, naturally, Dean smiled with a shrug. "Yeah buddy," he said, "why not?"
Cas was squinting again. Analyzing. Suddenly they were playing poker, Dean's hand still outstretched with the napkin trapped underneath. Don't take it, Dean suddenly thought to himself, even if his face was all smiles.
But Cas's face was suddenly resolute. Challenging. Their fingers brush as he grabbed the napkin. Dean threw the pen over to join.
"Ok," Cas said, nodding. "I will."
Everyone was giving Dean strange looks. He'd made it weird. He knew he did. Still, the only thing he could think about was the way that Cas's hands wrote his name with 10 digits underneath on the napkin. And the only thing that he could focus on right now was the way the waitress and Cas smiled back and forth as she accepted the napkin.
The checks were paid and soon they were in the car.
Dean tried not to look when he heard Cas's phone go off in the back seat, but his eyes glanced to the rear view mirror anyway, as Cas pulled his phone out smiling at a text message.
"Dean," Sam yelled as the hunter almost missed a stop sign.
Dean slammed on the brakes: "Damn it!"
He saw Cas pocket his phone. Damn it.
The next few days felt very long, and Cas was suddenly on the phone constantly. And Smiling. Texting and smiling.
Dean's stomach felt like it was going to grind itself to death. He gave Cas a wink and a thumbs up.
Cas's phone was constantly buzzing. During dinner. During their movie marathon. During their research sessions.
"Ugh. Don't you ever turn the sound down on that thing?"
Dean shifted uncomfortably, eyes widening. Shit, he hadn't meant to say that out loud.
"Sorry," Sam said, turning the sound down on the instructional video he was watching on the laptop.
Cas's phone buzzed again. Dean groaned.
"You alright?" Cas asked, mid text.
Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, "Headache," he said in explanation, standing. "I think I'm gonna call it a night."
Sam shut the laptop with a stretch, agreeing. "Movie?" he said to Dean.
Dean shrugged, having trouble looking away from Cas's stare fixed to his screen. "Sure," he said belatedly. "Cas? You in?"
Cas's reply was delayed, too. "Uh, no," he said, finally, plunking his phone back into his pocket. "I have plans."
"Plans?" Dean gawked.
Cas stood, nodding. "Yes Dean," his gaze steady. "Plans."
It took a second for Dean to realize they were alone in the room. "Ok then," he said, "uh, have fun."
Buried were Dean's winks, and nods and fake smiles. Instead, he felt the need to leave before he thought too hard about Cas's hands wrapped around Mandy's waist.
He didn't give Cas a chance to answer before Dean was making his way to his room, shutting the door. He didn't even bother to find Sam and tell him he wasn't in the mood for a movie anymore. Sam would figure it out.
Instead Dean sat on the bed, cringing when he heard the bunker door open and then close again.
"Shit," he said, thinking of Cas's blue eyes crinkling in a smile for Mandy.
For the next few hours, Dean tried to bury his thoughts inside a book before throwing it to the ground after reading the same paragraph a few times over. He wasn't sure why he thought reading would make him feel better, but it didn't. It really didn't. In fact, the more time Cas was gone, the more Dean thought about the angel's pink lips and dorky trench coat. He thought about Cas fighting alongside him with badass fury like a god, only to roll his eyes like a teenager when Dean teased him.
Dean groaned, grabbing his stomach again, finally letting himself admit it. He'd screwed up.
And suddenly, he didn't care that he had no idea where Cas was. He didn't care that he would probably look like a crazy person barging into their date; Dean had to find Cas.
Dean stood quickly, swiping his keys from his desk and pulling his jacket on in one fluid motion. He headed to the door, yelling a quick "Going out for a bit," for Sam's benefit then swung the door open quickly.
Then, suddenly, he was face to face with Cas.
"Cas," Dean stuttered, his mouth falling open. "You're back. . ."
Cas looked down at Dean's hand wrapped around his keys. "Going somewhere?" asked the angel.
"Yes," Dean said, his face surprised, but still firm. "Uh, no." he stuttered, looking out of sorts. "I was looking for you."
Cas smiled. "Well, I'm here. What did you want to talk about?"
Dean frowned. "I uh, well. . ."
Suddenly Dean had the urge to make an excuse. To say it was something about a hunt, or a new lead. But then he heard Cas's phone buzz in the pocket of his trench.
Dean swallowed and closed his eyes tightly. It's now or never.
"Cas," he said almost too quietly to hear while his eyes stayed closed. "I don't want you to go out with Mandy."
Then it was quiet. Too quiet. Dean braved a look at Cas. But the angel didn't look upset, he was smiling.
Cas still looked suspiciously amused as he innocently said "the waitress?"
Dean exhaled heavily, his shoulders dropping, though his stomach was still yelling at him.
"Yes," he said quietly, feeling his cheeks start to turn red. "I know I pushed her on you, but. . . I don't want you to go out with her. I mean, unless you want to, that is."
"Dean," Cas started, but Dean cut him off, looking down at the floor embarrassed. "Because," he continued quietly. "I want you."
Dean paused, waiting for Cas's response, but it didn't come. Instead, Cas's face slowly broke out into a smile, his head tilting forward until his forehead leaned against Dean's as they stood in the door frame.
Dean blinked as his eyes met Cas's blue ones so close to his. "Finally," said Cas. And the angel's hands found their way behind the small of Dean's back, pulling him forward into a deep kiss. It was warm and intense and Dean loved Cas's taste.
After awhile Cas pulled away, both men smiling as the angel held Dean close.
Then Dean's face fell. "Wait a second," he said, "what did you mean, finally?"
Cas smiled mischievously. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, holding it up. He opened a long string of text messages. Dean read the contact labeled "joke of the day," then his eyes skimmed down the long list of ridiculous puns and dad jokes sent intermittently to Cas's phone as a subscriber.
"But," Dean gaped, "Mandy. . ."
Cas's face was even more devious as he explained how he'd given her a wrong number, and that tonight's "date" was a long drive for Dean's benefit.
Dean cleared his throat. "So wait," he said, furrowing his eyebrows. "This. All of this, was a set up?"
Cas shrugged, then leaned in, whispering into Dean's ear. "I'm more perceptive than people think. I saw the look on your face when the waitress started flirting with me."
By now, Dean's face was definitely beet red, but he still felt a little bothered anyway. "So you decided to set me up?" he said defensively.
Cas sighed. "Dean," he said, "if I recall, you're the one who tried to set me up. I just decided to play your game this time."
Cas had a point.
"I've been in love with you for a long time, Dean," Cas suddenly said quietly. Reverently. Then, more playfully: "I knew you were too stubborn to ever let me tell you first, and I wasn't sure you were ever going to tell me how you felt without a little nudge, so when I saw an opportunity, I took it."
Suddenly, Dean laughed. Hard.
"You are an asshole," Dean said. Then, Cas was pulling him into a deep kiss, prolonging it until they were shivering from the cold leaking in from outside.
"Cas," Dean said when they broke away. "I love you, too."