It was mid-May in Portland, the absence of clouds allowed the sun to shine down onto the city. Sam scratched his beard and ran a hand through his hair, the other balanced the handlebars of his bicycle. He was on his way home from work, his messenger bag dug into his shoulder with the weight of his laptop. He stopped briefly at a coffee shop, then walked the rest of the way home, guiding the bike with his free hand. He hesitated at the front door, the kitchen window was open. Is Ash...cooking?
"Dude, are you really using the stove right now? To cook something that isn't frozen pizza?" Sam asked as he dropped his keys onto the small table next to the door and set his bag down.
"How could you have possibly gotten taller?" An almost familiar voice said from behind him, the comment froze Sam in place. It couldn't possibly be who he thought it was. It's been too long, far too long. He turned around slowly.
"Cas? What are you doing here?" Sam hugged him excitedly.
"I was in the neighborhood. Come on, I took over your kitchen, you like Italian, don't you?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course." Sam sat down at the kitchen table next to Ash.
"He came back out of nowhere, I heard a knock at the door and thought it was going to be someone trying to convince me to sell my soul back to jesus but it was him. You don't call, you don't write. You're lucky I even let you in," Ash said. "What have you been doing all this time, anyway?"
"Stuff. Traveling here and there. I learned this recipe when I went to Sicily," Cas spoke as he served them dinner. "This tiny old lady, I swear she was four feet tall, taught me. Whenever I would do anything wrong she would slap me or throw something at me, but when I did something right she would give me wine, I learned a lot from her."
"You've been to Sicily?" Sam asked.
"Among other places," Cas winked at him. The night ended too quickly, Sam hardly spoke, too many memories flooded his mind and he tried to ignore them, but he couldn't construct sentences. They sat too close together and Sam laughed too loudly but there was this oddly familiar feeling between the two of them. Almost like no time had passed at all.
When they said goodnight, Sam leisurely walked to the bathroom, now allowing his mind the freedom to delve into the pit of thoughts he had been suppressing the entire evening. His small grin quickly faded when he began to disassemble what had happened, what they had spoken about, what happened so many years ago, the urges he felt at this moment, and how he was ignoring his impulses. Castiel was sitting in the other room, so close, beyond the wall to the right of him. Sam stared back into his own eyes, thinking, yes, I want more. I want him. He needed more than talking and laughing together.
"You aren't a kid anymore," he said aloud to himself, but that is how Cas made him feel. Like the same kid he was all those summers ago. It wasn't the joyous, the world is at my fingertips kind of childlike naivety, it was the fear. The fear of the possibilities.
What actually would happen if I go in there right now?
Would he turn me away?
June 3rd, 2007
It was unbearably hot in Chuck's cabin when everyone walked in and dumped their bags on the hardwood. Everyone could hear the sound of the ocean waves that were crashing down mere feet away, every single one of them suppressed the urge to tear off their clothes and dive in. Ash began unloading the copious amounts of beer from his car with the help of Becky, they stocked the fridge to the brim. Ruby and Chuck started pulling the shades and opening the windows while Sam dragged his bags into one of the guest bedrooms, following behind Adam. It was the summer before their junior year of college, everyone attended different schools and since freshman year they had seen less and less of each other. It was sad, given they all grew up together, went to the same middle school and high school. They decided to spend the summer together, thinking they would probably not see eachother again for many years.
They sat on the beach for the rest of the day, which is what they did the entire summer, mostly. Sam went back into the cabin fairly early that day, he changed into his pajama bottoms then sat on the couch. He let his eyes drift closed for a few minutes, he listened to the waves outside, laughter, and the sound the fan made that was on overhead. He suddenly heard the door open quickly, the knob hitting the wall with a thump.
"I got lost," Cas said, allowing his backpack to fall off of his shoulders and hit the floor.
"Cas. I didn't even know you were coming!"
"Yeah. Ed and Harry were supposed to come along but something about a Lord of the Rings cosplay thing, I dunno. I brought the fire works for tomorrow night, though." He sat down on the couch next to Sam with a sigh. Sam had met Cas two years ago at one of Ash's many parties, they hung out on and off through freshman and sophomore year. Cas was eccentric even then, Sam always wanted to know more about him.
"Everyone else is at the beach if you wanna go see them."
"Nah," he fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. "It's nice and quiet in here, I'll get into full party mode tomorrow. How are you?"
"I'm alright, how are you?"
"Good."
"Good." And that was it. Simple small talk after not seeing each other for months, it was uncomplicated. Sam was relaxed and could have easily made a move but he just leaned his head back against the couch and Cas eventually got up, told him goodnight and found his room. It could have been easy, but Sam lost a lot of sleep that summer. What made it worse was that Cas was staying in the room right next to his, and Sam could hear him moving around, could hear his music, the flick of his lighter. Cas' almost insomnia kept Sam awake as well, he just wondered what he was doing all those hours, if he wanted any company, but Sam never got up to find out.
All of his adult life Sam has spent countless hours, days, years, questioning his significance. His importance. If he'll do anything worth recognition in his lifetime or will he just be forgotten...
Importance. Being important. Feeling important. Most people believe that in the grand scheme of things, in the entire world, that we are all insignificant. But we're not really talking about the entire world right now. Yes, Sam knows he'll never do anything worth praise, he'll never become president, he won't win a nobel peace prize, but it doesn't matter.
What matters is being important to one person. To know that their entire world is you, and vice versa. The entire fucking world doesn't matter. The fact that Sam Winchester is standing in the middle of the bathroom, thinking about all of this, and not doing ANYTHING is what's important. He's about to brush his teeth, shut off the light, and go to bed. Then he'll wake up tomorrow with birds chirping outside of his window, walk downstairs, and realize that the guest bedroom is empty, that Cas is gone. All because he didn't do anything. Sam also knows Castiel's character, and knows how fickle he is. Right now, as Sam's fingers tap against the sink in contemplation, Cas is staring up at the ceiling of the guest bedroom, thinking about dipping into his trust fund and take a trip to India. Like I said, fickle, can't stay in one place for too long. Fickle and adventurous. (He also has the worst craving for a good cup of darjeeling. The keep you up at night, travel to another country for satisfaction kind of craving.) If Castiel was adventurous like this all those years ago, things would have been different. He really would have stopped Sam or even gone with him.
June 22, 2007
Sam and Cas were shoulder to shoulder, Cas' laptop was open at the foot of the bed, they were watching Rushmore. Sam wasn't paying any attention, hyper aware of how his body was postitioned, where Cas moved his hands and how he occasionally shifted even closer. He quickly finished his beer when he felt Cas' fingers graze his hand, trying to find any excuse to casually get up so he can calm down. He felt droplets of sweat run down the back of his neck when Cas turned his head to look at him.
"You're nervous," he said and Sam flushed.
"Nah, it's just hot in here."
"Whatever you say, Sammy." Sam watched Cas lean over and turn on the small fan on the bedside table. "It seems like you're always nervous, or maybe you're just thinking or over thinking. I like that about you. It's like, if aliens came down or zombies took over, you'd be the man that would always have the most logical plan."
"Heh, thanks."
"It's a good trait to have, the ability to be Rick Grimes when others don't want to be. I'm bunking with you when the world begins to end." Sam smiled and turned to look at him. It was like one of those cheesy romantic movie moments when the two people stare at each other and the sound of the movie fades. They both started leaning in, it was like a figurative thread went from Cas into Sam, binding them together in that moment. Sam watched Cas close his eyes and part in lips but then-
Fucking Ash.
The door bursts open with a loud bang, he drunkenly looms in the threshold, looking back and forth between them. "Do you guys...," he said slowly. "Do you guys know where my bong is?"
Sam cleared his throat and stood up. "I'm gonna go get us some more beers." He shuffled around Ash who was desperately rummaging through his bags. Sam stood flustered in the kitchen, opening two bottles of beer and taking in sharp breaths.
"I found it!" Ash exclaimed from the other room.
The other thing with Cas is, he has trouble leaving things as they were. He never suppressed what he felt, his regrets, his feelings toward Sam, he just tried to block them out. Well, block them out to the best of his abilities. No amount of meditation, therapy, yoga, Chinese hypnosis rituals, stopped the thoughts from entering his mind and begin the ward off sleep. Every night. That one month he spent alone in a cabin writing his unpublished thriller/action/scifi/romance screenplay had helped a little. He had the freedom to scream until his thoughts quieted, or until he couldn't anymore.
Unlike Sam, who thought being close to another person would make him forget, Cas thought hiding himself away was a better solution. They are both so very, very, horribly wrong.
Anyway, Cas can't leave things alone. Few days ago he was rummaging through his closet when a folder of photographs fell onto his bedroom floor. Fate did, in fact, toss the ball into his court that day. The photographs brought all those feelings he tried to hide away from back to the surface. A wave rippled through his chest and made his legs give out slightly as a nostalgic feeling took over him. One by one he stared at the pictures, almost smelling the ocean. Just like that he straightened his back and rang Ruby, who told him that Sam conveniently lived with Ash, then he took a train. Those photos are still laying on his bedroom floor, all but one. It's folded neatly in his wallet, Chuck holding a guitar, everyone smiling, their faces frozen mid-song and Cas looking directly at Sam.
August 20, 2007
It was the night before Sam was to leave and go back to school. He and Cas sat on the beach and watched Chuck pile up wood in front of them. "Going back to New York tomorrow?" Cas had asked him.
"Yup, studying abroad second semester, too," Sam said, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it.
"Really? Where?"
"Paris."
"France? That is awesome. You have to tell me about it when you get back! I've always wanted to go to France. Backpacking around Europe...I totally need to do that. Imagine all you can learn about yourself if you were in a foreign country by yourself." You see, when Cas spoke of what he wanted to do, he did it in a way that made you want to go with him. He knew he was going to do all the things he said he would. He has this power to make you want to do things, to make you dream big, to try to fulfill all the far fetched ambitions you have even if you fail.
"You make it sound fun, I'm terrified."
"Don't be, just be open to things. You'll probably come back an entirely different man." The rest of the group sat down in a circle around them. Beers were passed around and Chuck settled down and tuned his guitar.
"Raise your hand if you want Bohemian Rhapsody." Everyone's hands flew up. They all started singing as the fire crackled before them. Photographs were taken, their songs were sung too loudly and too off key, it was a nice evening. Sam had watched Cas stand up and walk down the beach after Ruby snapped the first photo of the night. Cas' eyes stared unseeing at the ocean, he could still hear them singing so he walked farther down until the waves drowned out their noise. This was the start of a habit he wouldn't try to kick, running, and hiding away.
Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. One hand rested on his chest. The ache presented itself for the first time since he'd seen Cas again, it pulsed with every other beat of his heart. It faded when he walked into the apartment today. He was so accustomed to it paining him that it was striking how easily it could be forgotten. It was an ache that grew stronger when he laid in bed with another man. An ache that occasionally stopped his breath when he tried to trick his mind into thinking that he loved someone else.
He did try. The men that had walked into his life and had given him everything. When they looked at him with love in their eyes and then realized that that same adoration wasn't mirrored back at them, that feeling turned to scorn. He, himself, was trying to ease his own pain but part of him wanted to share it. Seemed as if he was the only one suffering, he wanted someone to understand. He never realized that the one person that understood, that felt the same pain, was also the one that could dismissit.
He pushes all his thoughts aside and decides to walk to the guest room. His hand doesn't hesitate to open the door like he assumed it would. Cas is laying on his side, the moon casts light onto the edge of the bed. It dips with Sam's weight, one of his hands pulls the blanket up as he slides in next to the other man. Their eyes met in the almost darkness, Sam leans his head down and covers Cas' mouth with his...
None of that actually happens.
When Sam opens the door he finds Cas sitting Indian style in the middle of the bed. Light from his laptop casting a glow onto his skin. His eyes flicker to Sam's then back to the screen. Bon Iver's rendition of I Can't Make You Love Me plays from the tiny speakers, leaving Sam with an odd feeling in his chest when he focuses on the words.
"How can you not have tea in your house?" Cas says slowly, taking a drag from the cigarette hung between his lips. "You have enough beer to intoxicate Ireland in its entirety but not a single tea bag? You guys are from another planet."
"A tea-less planet, do your research," Sam smiled and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Are there no cafe's open this late?"
"It's, like, two in the morning."
"Yeah, and? This is Portland, don't you guys live for that shit?"
"We do, yeah, but mostly during the day."
"During the day," Cas scoffed. "You know, I lived above a cafe for a few months. The owner was the landlady, she used to say, "Anything you need, Cassie, just help yourself". Unlimited amounts of tea, coffee and pie. Ironically, that was right before I left to bike around Argentina, I was so slow, all the pie made me put on a few pounds. Anyway, she used to leave the door unlocked, pretty sure she just wanted into my pants. The more I flirted the more cookies she left out, though. There was a close call once, positive she put drugs-OH! God bless, 24-hour Wal-Mart. Care to join me, Sammy?"
There's another thing about Cas, he's a storyteller. Not the normal beginning, middle and end kind of story teller, but the beginning, remember another incident that happened, then another, then back to the original story, then something that he's not sure was a dream, no it wasn't a dream, definitely was real except there was a dragon smoking a pipe there, too, kind of story teller. Sam loved that about him, considering how his eyes glazed over and a pleased grin would stay on his face the entire time Cas would go on and on and on. No matter how far fetched and Edward Bloom esque Cas' life seemed, all of his stories are true. It's the way he tells them, he can make buying eggs sound like a majestic quest. It's all in the way he moves his hands and pitches his voice. Sam always thought of the stories Cas would tell their kids...not their kids, no, not like they are going to have kids, not that Sam has thought of having kids with Cas or named them... Kids. Kids in general.
Cas also has the power of persuasion. Not that he tries to persuade anyone, it just happens. That's how Sam found himself walking into a deserted Wal-Mart only in his pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, with Cas happily humming along to the song that played overhead.
"Tea, tea, tea," he chanted, eyes scanning the shelves. His bedhead the worst it's ever been, a thin sweatshirt covered his torso, zipper low, revealing his chest hair and lack of shirt underneath. He wore baggy shorts and a pair of sandals that kept slipping off of his feet. "No darjeeling." He said, frowning. When he did, finally, decide on a box of tea they walked around the store for a few more minutes. Cas gasped when his eyes met plastic swords. They proceeded to chase each other around the barren store, wearing Thor and Loki helmets and giggling like children. Sam soon found himself on the floor with Cas straddling him, his arms raised toward the ceiling in victory.
"Are we ready to go now, god of mischief? You have defeated me." Sam asked. Cas looked down at him as he let his arms fall to his sides. He had a strange look in his eye that Sam noticed and mirrored back at him, it was almost an unsure expression. Cas inched closer to Sam's face, looking directly into his eyes, almost as if he didn't know him. As if Sam was a stranger. What he was doing was looking for that thing. That glint or sparkle or something that said, yes, I want you to kiss me right now. He didn't see it. Or Sam wasn't showing it. They both stared at each other for several seconds, searching for something inside one another. It was almost a contest to see who would give in first, which one would show that glint of longing that they both have felt for too long.
"What is my reward for defeating the almighty Thor?" Castiel said lowly, he felt Sam's hips grind against his slightly. If it wasn't for the footsteps approaching them something could have or would have happened. Sam would have made something happen. It was close to perfect, that moment, it didn't matter that they were in a desolate Wal-Mart at almost three in the morning or that Cas might leave tomorrow for ever, Sam had him. For a moment, just like the split second in the train station before he turned his back, Sam had him.
August 21, 2007
Cas was positive that it would rain, he thought storm clouds would swallow up the sun in an apocalyptic type fashion and the rain would pound down. It was sunny, he squinted even with his sunglasses on, and the car ride to the train station was quiet. Eerily quiet, save for Ash's small comments here and there. When all three of them stood in the train station it was as if the dark, heavy cloud looming above Cas seeped over to Sam as well. "I love you guys." Ash hugged them both. "It's been, like, the greatest summer ever."
"Love you, too, man," Sam said. They watched him disappear into the crowd, then Sam hugged Cas tightly. "It was nice getting to know you better." Was all he could think of to say.
"Yeah. It was nice." All they did for a few moments was look at each other. Sam finally turned around and walked to his platform without hesitation or a look back. Even just a glance would have had Cas running to stop him, but the absence of a gesture left him frozen in place. He went back to his car and sat in silence for almost an hour. He's gone. I can't even stop him. I lost my chance. His head fell against the steering wheel with a thud. "Ow." Was he referring to the pain in his forehead or the pain in his chest...
Sam hesitated the entire way to his seat on the train, his movements so very slow. The train began moving a long while after he sat down. All those minutes, chances for Sam to get up and find him. He flinched as the train pulled out of the station, one hand clutched his chest as an ache pained him.
"Why did you come into my room tonight?" Cas asked, flicking his cigarette out of the window as Sam pulled the car into the driveway.
"Honestly?"
"Honestly."
"I thought, I dunno, that something might happen," Sam blushed as he turned off the engine.
"You thought you'd slip into my bed then in the morning we'd get married or something?" The atmosphere in the car stiffened slightly, this conversation had to happen sometime, but couldn't it have waited?
"Why are you bringing this up now?"
"I just can't get it out of my head. What, so, now after five years of nothing you come to the sudden realization that you'd like to be with me?"
"I'm not just realizing now, Cas."
"Why didn't you say anything at the train station then? Why did you leave?"
"I didn't think you wanted me. I was scared of rejection, I still am. I wanted to say something, I really did. I figured that if you didn't stop then it wasn't worth getting hurt." Sam stopped talking and looked over at Cas who was giggling, surprisingly. "Why are you laughing?"
"It's funny because I felt the same way and was too scared to stop you from getting on that train. We were idiots."
"We still are idiots," Sam said, laughing along with Cas.
"I wanted to stop you, though. I really did. Worst thing I ever did was let you go. I spent all this time trying to forget you, you know. Everyone says I can't stay in one place, it's because I'm looking for somewhere that doesn't remind me of you. I don't think that place exists." They stared at each other for a long time, Sam's heart was beating so quickly, the anxiety wouldn't leave, he thought he was going to pass out because he was leaning in but then...the thoughts. The dreaded thoughts.
We're in my jeep. Shouldn't we be somewhere more romantic? Is the moment supposed to be romantic? Does the setting even count? Should I have kissed him in wal-mart? I should move away. I can't move away because he's looking at me, directly into my soul with those blue eyes, and he's pouting his lips. Oh, god. Is the moment still there? I can't move. I don't think I can move. What must he be thinking? (Are you serious? JUST KISS ME, SAM. JUST DO IT. I can see that you're over thinking this, you know. Do you do this with all your dates?)
Cas' hands rested on Sam's shoulders and pulled gently. When their lips (FINALLY) met it was like, how do I put this... You know after a storm, the clouds part, the sun emerges again, and it's like the world has been renewed? It was like that. It felt like being born again. Like god had patted them both on the shoulder.
Ash walked out of his bedroom in the morning wrapped in a worn blanket. "It smells weird in here." He said as he walked across the living room to the bathroom, stepping over worn out sandals and two pairs of pants as he went. He peeked over the sofa when he emerged again. Sam and Cas were laying together, bare skin covered by a large blanket, half drunk mugs of tea sat on the wooden coffee table. "You whores!" Ash yelled, startling them from sleep. Ash walked to the kitchen, he clicked on the coffee maker and set three places at the table. Why is there a box of tea? he thought. "Why is there a box of tea here?" Neither of them answered him, he was pretty much talking to himself at this point. "What kind of kinky stuff can you do with tea bags? Lord have mercy on these poor boys' souls, my god." He served waffles onto the three plates, set down powdered sugar and syrup on the table, and filled three mugs with coffee. "Sit down, sit down, you men need sustenance." He gestured toward Sam and Cas, when they got up and walked toward the kitchen. "Sam, I'm burning that couch and you're buying me a new one. But, yay!" Ash clapped. "It only took you five years! I'm so proud."
"Thank you, where's our award?" Cas said, sipping his coffee.
"I'm having it engraved as we speak, have your speeches prepared. I'm thinking tan for the new couch, or black leather. No, leather is too sexy, ya'll might get that urge again."
"You do know I'm not buying you a new couch, right?" Sam said.
"Yeah, I know, a man can dream. ...You guys didn't do it on this table did you?" It only took Cas to merely glance at Sam to make Ash push his chair back and lean against the counter with a shocked expression. "Nooooo! My elbows were leaning against that." He pointed a shaky finger at the table. "You allowed my flesh to touch where your bare asses have been! And I call you two my friends." Ash began walking down the hall. "You dirty harlots! Where is the bleach?"
"So, I'm thinking we should find our own place," Sam said.
"Not before we have sex on everything Ash owns."