Alright, so I got this idea from an awesome picture. It's the cover art, dears. Just so y'know. It was drawn by emmydrawsthings on deviantart- also known as radalecki on tumblr. C:
This is pretty much a (gay)western AU where Cas is a sheltered, rich, and proper Sherriff's son, and Dean is the type of hooligan cowboy Cas's father always told him to stay away from.
I'm saying it's set in the early 1900s, like most western films…but y'know. I don't know much about history, so if I'm wrong, tell me. I'll fix whatever mistakes I make. /D
This is rated M for cussing/future smut. Just so you're all warned. However, I'll point those chapters out, and let anyone who's still sex-shy skip around them. Promise!
Disclaimer: Supernatural/Dean/Castiel/etc. are not mine, and they never will be.
And finally, I want to thank my lovely beta, Maestus. She is fantastic and she has managed to catch stuff I would never notice. She's amazing, you guys. Seriously. Check her out.
Castiel didn't look up as his sister (he knew it was his sister because of the soft, but determined sound her footfalls made) opened the door to his bedroom. He didn't look up as she pulled the wooden chair across from him back, then scooted forward. He also didn't look up when he heard her give an impatient huff, though he supposed he probably should have. However, in his lifetime, he had found that if you ignored something you didn't want around, it generally went away.
It wasn't like he didn't want his sister around- he loved his sister, as he did all of his siblings. But his sister had a habit of asking him to do things that would get him in trouble, and he didn't like being in trouble with their dad. He preferred to do what he was told, then wait for his next orders. He liked to think of himself as his father's soldier- he took commands, followed them through, then went back to his barracks. The end.
His father's commands for today were studying, schoolwork, reading a passage of the bible, and meeting with his tutor.
"Castiel, pay attention to me. Right. Now." She said, her tone demanding and sharp. He had no choice but to stop what he was doing (he had been studying a book his tutor had given him, so he could one-up the short, chubby man next time he had a lesson). He looked up at her, face blank, as he liked to keep it.
"You're going out in town with me tonight. Wear something fancy, but not overly fancy. Like that cute waistcoat you never want to wear." She raised her eyebrows, as if challenging him to defy her.
"Anna, I have things to do. I still need to finish my schoolwork, and read a bible passage. Plus, my tutor hasn't come yet. I can't just skip; he'll tell dad." He said this blankly, like it was a matter of fact, no arguments or way around it. He happened to do that a lot. His brothers would make fun of him for his no-nonsense, no-smiles, bland attitude towards everything, but he just found it to be proficient.
"I already sent a message to the tutor, telling him you're sick, and you can't have class today. And dad won't know, if no one tells. So you're going." She smiled, knowing she had one. Castiel knew it too, so he simply nodded and looked back down. He didn't look back up until he heard the 'click' of the door sliding shut.
Most brothers would have argued and refused- at least, his brothers always did. But since Anna was older than him, he felt the need to do what she asked as well. He never argued or complained. He just did as he was asked and got on with his life.
The fact of the matter was, even if he did want to argue, he couldn't. She didn't really ask you to do something. She told you to do something. It was never a question, or a proposition. It was a statement. Sure, he could give his reasons why he couldn't do something, but she was a step ahead of him, most of the time.
He sighed, closing his book. The sun was setting in the distance, and he realized he didn't have much time to get ready.Did you manage to cut telling me close enough, Anna?He snarked to himself. He didn't necessarily mind, though. He was ready to adapt to the situation.
He went through his closet, picking out the waistcoat his sister was talking about- it was navy blue, with coattails that hung down to the back of his knees. It opened widely at the top, and had two pockets at the bottom. He had never worn it before now- he never really liked it. He found it to be too stuffy. But he supposed he would wear it, if Anna liked it.
He pulled a white shirt on under it, buttoning all but the top two. The sleeves were a bit too long, and it was hot, so he rolled them up to his elbows. Slowly, he threaded a silky blue ribbon through the collar, tying it in a knot and smoothing it out. He grabbed a pair of pinstripe pants that matched the rest of his ensemble, and a pair of white British clogs.
They were leather, with a wooden sole and heel that were protected by plastic bottoms. It was his favorite pair of shoes- he kept them clean and took care of them as if they were his children. His father had bought them for him in Lancashire, England a few years ago. He had never let anything happen to them since then. He bent down and tied them, the white laces slipping into position snugly. He looked into the old mirror on the back of his dresser's door. He had to admit- he looked pretty good. And those shoes gave him an extra couple of inches, which he liked.
Cas smoothed down his unruly hair the best he could. Little black pieces stuck up here and there, but it looked decent, and that was as close to perfect as he could get. He ran fingers over the stubble on his face. He didn't need to shave it just yet, but he would soon. That was a problem for another day.
Finally, he grabbed a pocket watch and stuck it in one pocket, fastening the t-bar chain onto his waistcoat, and made a promise to be home by ten. He closed the wardrobe and exited his room, the tap-tap of the plastic on his shoes echoing through the top part of the house. Though, house wasn't the best word for it. It was more of a mansion than anything- his mother had inherited it from her father, who was a rich old man. Therefore, they were a rich family. Castiel didn't really think it made sense, since there were so many children in his family, which meant they should have less money…but he never inquired on it to anyone. He supposed things worked out the way they did for a good reason.
His room was upstairs, at the end of a wide balcony. His was not the only room in the small upstairs portion of his house- there was also his parent's, Anna's, and two other rooms that were split between his four brothers.
He had never been in his parent's bedroom, and only in Anna's once or twice, because his father sent him. He had, however, been in his brothers' bedroom multiple times. They always had some secret to share with him, or some plan, or something of the sort. Or they just wanted him to referee their fights. His brothers were always fighting. He generally stayed out of it- they were like their own little group, and he hated intruding. He and Anna were like the two loners of the family. Most would think they would gang up together, but they were too different to be a team.
Sighing, he started down the stairs. It was grand staircase leading down into the main room- the large one with couches and coffee tables and bookshelves. The one you brought guests into to have a quick chat after supper.
When he reached the bottom, he was greeted by the sight of an empty room.Where is everyone?
Well, Anna was probably in her room, getting ready. His father…well, he was probably at the jail house, considering he was the sheriff. His brothers? They were probably off doing something incredibly stupid and juvenile. His mother was gone- whether dead or disappeared, he didn't know. She was just a person no one ever talked about, as if she didn't even exist.
He was okay with that.
However, sometimes it did make him sad. Every once in a while, he would dream about a nice, black haired woman with sweet green eyes, hugging him and tucking him in when he was a kid.
But that was a dream, and dreams never came true, so he refused to dwell on it.
"Where are we going?" He asked, looking over to his sister, who was smiling stupidly, like she had won a million dollars. For her, this was probably like a million dollars- getting Cas out of the house, getting someone to go with her to town, being allowed to do what she wanted because someone would be there to take her home. He inwardly sighed. It was going to be a long night.
"We are going to a bar! I'm going to get you stupid drunk, and you're going to have fun. I'm going to stick a smile on your face!" She said, elbowing him in the side. He grunted at the light pain, but did nothing to retaliate.
They were walking into town, since their house wasn't very far. A few twists and turns and you were right there. The dirt road under his feet bothered him, though. He was regularly dodging mud puddles and patches that looked suspiciously dusty. He really didn't want to get his shoes all dirty before he even had a chance to get into to town.
The cowboy hat his sister had picked out from him shielded his eyes from the setting sun above them, which was nice. However, he hated the hat. It was white, with a long blue feather sticking out from one side. He thought it looked too…frilly. But his sister asked him to wear it, just like the waistcoat, so he did.
As they passed the first building into town, the tailor's shop, he took the hat off. He wouldn't need it much longer, anyways. He held it behind his back with two hands, continuing his strolling.
When they passed the bank, Anna saw one of her friends, waving at the girl. She turned from Cas, to her friend, then back to Cas.
"Cassy? Go to the bar. Stay there. No drinking until I get there. I mean it!" She said, narrowing her eyes playfully. He nodded and continued walking.
Castiel didn't really like this town. It was small, and only had the basics- a bank, the doctor, barber, tailor, and a bar. Then, on the very other side of town from him, there were a few houses for the people who actually stayed there.
It was mostly a passing-through town, though. Anna said she liked it, since she always got to meet new people, but Cas disagreed. Making a new friend, just to have them move away? It was just depressing. Although, how would he know? He didn't really have any friends. He stayed in most of the time, except to run errands for his dad. Plus, he really didn't see the point in friends. They seemed like a nuisance, to him.
"Whoa! Stop." Someone said, startling him out of his thoughts. He looked to the person who spoke, who was waving at him as he sealed up the side bag on his horse and grabbed a blanket. He threw the blanket over his shoulder, running over towards Cas.
"Howdy!" He said, a smile on his lips that was just barely there, but still made all the difference.
Castiel found that smile interesting.
"Hello." He answered. He figured there was no harm- he could judge by the man's clothes he was a cowboy, herder, probably. His blond hair stuck up in the front, the rest covered by a black cowboy's hat that further proved his theory. The stalk of wheat that hung from his pouty lips went to make him completely positive.
He was wearing a white shirt, the long sleeves pushed up to the elbows haphazardly. Cas noticed that they were a brown color at the end- he guessed they were pushed up to keep them from getting dirtier. At least that wasn't a problem with the brown vest that was over the white shirt- it wouldn't show dirt. Neither would the pants, which were just a little darker brown. Finally, he had on black leather cowboy boots- no spurs. Which, most of the time, meant he didn't like hurting his horse. For some reason, that was endearing.
"So do you norm'ly just stare at people when they try to figure out your name?" The cowboy asked, raising his eyebrows. Cas tilted his head in the slightest of ways, to signal he had acknowledged the statement.
"No, actually. I normally just ignore people who try to learn my name." He replied. The blonde looked at him, as if he was expecting Cas to be kidding. When he realized that there would be no smile or laugh after the statement, he chuckled, slapping Cas on the back.
"You know what? You're a dick. I like that. M'names Dean." Castiel frowned. That was strange. Most people didn't like him because he was so cold. Most people didn't like him at all.
He silently decided that Dean was crazy.
He wondered if Dean was thinking the same about him.
He broke out of his thoughts as he felt a hand on his chest. He looked at the hand, then up the arm, the shoulder, and the neck, to see Dean looking at him. The boy flicked his –amazingly, not that Cas would say or admit that they were- green eyes to the ground, and Cas looked down. There was a huge mud puddle in front of them, and Castiel had almost walked straight into it.
Silently, he started to walk around it, but Dean grabbed the tails of his waistcoat, pulling him back.
"Wha-?" He began, but stopped, because Dean was bending down, placing the green and brown horse blanket in front of his feet. Dean looked up, his lips curving into a smile.
"Are you gonna take up my kind offer and cross, or just stand there?" He said, chuckling. The stalk of wheat sticking out from his lips quivered as he laughed, and Cas stared at it for a moment, before furrowing his brows.
"Why can't I walk around? It's much simpler." He said, and this brought another chuckle from the cowboy.
"Because, men are supposed to treat ladies with respect." Castiel sensed sarcasm, and yet, the twinkle in Dean's eyes made him think that maybe it wasn't a total joke.
Or maybe he was just imagining things.
"Well…thank you, I think. But I assure you that's completely unnecessary." He said, and Dean just smiled wider.
"Awh, nonsense! Wouldn't want to get them pretty shoes all dirty, would we?" He replied, and Cas looked down at his shoes. He really didn't want to get them dirty. And walking across the blanket wouldn't hurt anyone- in fact, it seemed as though it would make Dean happy. He wasn't sure why he cared if Dean was happy, but something in him inexplicably did.
So, he walked across the blanket, throwing a huffy look at Dean over his shoulder. Dean got up, looking down at the blanket with a huge smile on his face. He shook it off and folded it, placing it back over his shoulder. He silently walked up to Castiel, their noses almost touching. Cas wondered if it was normal for people to stand this close. He didn't think so. But he knew nothing of social standards and personal space. If Dean was comfortable, so was he. He looked up into Dean's green, green eyes, feeling a chill run down his spine. That was weird.
"You never told me what your name was." He said, smile still on his face. His breath smelled like mint. It was warm, and tickled Castiel's lips. This was also a strange sensation.
Cas slid his eye's down, noticing the freckles on Dean's face, now that he was closer. He wondered how many of them there were. After that, he wondered why he cared.
"My name is Castiel." He finally said, looking back up into green eyes. Dean tilted his head, as if he was thinking, then stepped back, extending a hand.
"You have a strange name, but I like it. Now, we should formally shake, like gentlemen." Dean had a smirk, now, his lips tilting to one side more than the other. He looked from Cas's face down to his hand, as if trying to tell him to shake. It took him a second, but Castiel finally realized what he was supposed to do and shook his hand, noticing how rough and firm Dean's hands were compared to his. His own long fingered, slim, well-taken-care-of hands seemed to slip inside of Dean's. He kind of liked it.
"You can let go of me now, y'know." Dean said, and Castiel jerked his hand away, feeling embarrassed. Dean smiled at him, shaking his head in that what-will-I-do-with-this-idiot way.
"I'm sorry. I don't have any friends." Cas said, and Dean raised an eyebrow.
"No friends, huh? I don't usually learn that kind of stuff till the fourth date, but hey. That's cool too." Dean smiled again at his own joke, and Castiel decided that Dean was a very smiley man. His brother Gabriel was kind of like that, when he wasn't upset.
"I guess we're just going to have to become friends over drinks, buddy." Dean said, slinging an arm over his shoulder and steering him to the bar. Castiel decided he also liked the feeling of Dean's arm around him.
He wanted it to stay there.
He'd never wanted anything more.
"Cas! Don't be afraid! Just drink the damn whisky!" Dean slapped the smaller man on the back. Cas shook his head, staring at the pitcher of whisky Dean had pushed towards him.
"I promised my sister I'd wait for her. She said not to drink."
"Don't be a bitch! You can drink without her permission. She doesn't own you." Dean said, pushing it towards him again. Cas slowly battled with himself- either he defied his sister for this almost stranger that he really liked, or he made Dean upset and made his sister happy…
"Fine." He said, picking it up. He took a big sip, hearing a 'hell yeah!' from Dean as he took it.
He set it down, coking a little. It took a few tries, but he finally swallowed it, taking a huge breath afterwards. He coughed, the burn in his throat almost unbearable. He wiped the tears from his eyes, looking up at Dean, who was laughing heartily, slapping his knee.
"Was it...ahaha...was it good, Cas?" He asked, wiping tears of his own from his eyes. Although Cas assumed they were from different things.
"It was terrible. My throat hurts. Why do you drink this?" He asked, staring angrily at the pitcher before him. Dean chuckled a bit more, before lightly punching Castiel on the shoulder.
"That wasn't even bad, Cas. I've tasted something that is like straight horse piss, or worse. You try that, and you'll be begging for whisky." He said, and Castiel wrinkled his nose.
"I don't see the point in drinking, Dean. It seems like it's no fun." Dean just winked at him.
"The fun part isn't the drinking. The fun part is watching other people drink. Some people are hilarious drunks, Cas. And when you find those people? You can laugh for hours. And they'll laugh with ya, cause they don't know what's going on."
"That just sounds rude. Why would we laugh at the intoxicated?" Cas knitted his eyebrow. Dean shook his head, sighing.
"Cas, you need to get out more. Trust me. You laugh at them, or they will laugh at you." He said.
Castiel watched as Dean ordered another drink, gulping it down in a couple of swallows.
When he looked at Dean, he felt an odd tickle in his chest, one that made him feel…fuzzy, for lack of better word. He looked down at his own chest, confused. He had never felt that before today. He didn't understand why his body was behaving so funnily, all of the sudden.
Dean turned towards him, a huge smile on his lips, and Castiel felt his heart speed ever-so-slightly. He gasped, looking from his heart to Dean, his eyes widening.
"What's wrong, Cas? You look freaked out." Dean said, his face showing hints of worry. He's worried about me. This thought made Castiel's heart skip a beat, and he put a hand over his chest.
"I think I'm having a heart attack!" He said, staring up at Dean, who instantly leaned in closer.
"Let me feel. Does your chest hurt any? Feeling short of breath?" Dean asked, moving Castiel's hand from his chest and replacing it with one of his own.
He sat for a second, feeling the rhythm of his heart, then put an ear to it, listening.
Having Dean that close to him did something funny to his body, and his emotions. He wasn't sure what it was. He felt as though he just wanted to hold Dean closer, and push him away. He felt his heart race, and his thoughts go from one thing to another- all of which involved himself and Dean. His mind stopped on one, though. Himself and Dean, kissing. For some reason, this was what his body wanted to do.
However, he didn't. He ignored his thoughts. Because he knew what they meant. He had never felt them before, but he had read books about them.
Those feelings were classic signs of attraction. Something which he should not feel towards a man. Especially a man he had only met a few hours ago. A man who had been eying one of the women in the bar a few minutes before he had forced Castiel to drink.
He shook his head, pushing Dean away.
"I'm fine. I just got confused." He said, and Dean looked at him funnily.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. I should go." He said, and got up to leave without thinking. He knew he was supposed to wait for Anna, and he knew it was rude to just leave someone behind like that- especially someone who had been so nice and forthcoming. But he didn't think it would be smart to stay any longer.
As he left, he heard Dean call his name, and the thud of boots hitting the ground. He didn't stop, though, just kept walking. He ignored it was Dean called his name once more, then just gave up, cursing at him.
Because he had decided he wasn't going to be around someone who caused such emotions in him. He didn't like feeling those things.
He decided that Dean was a distraction from his duties. And he couldn't afford any distractions.
