"C'mon, Cassie! Drink a little! Have some fun!"
Castiel looks up from the book he is reading to glare at his brother. Gabriel is lounging casually against the bar counter, taking slow drags from his cigarette. He blows a puff of smoke into the air as he turns towards his brother, giving him a small smirk.
"For the last time Gabe," Castiel mutters, not looking up from his book, "I'm only here because you needed a sober driver. You go have fun; I will be around to drag your drunk ass home later."
"And what fun is it getting drunk alone?" Gabriel whines while he flags down the bartender, ordering two shots of vodka for them. "Please, Cassie? Just one drink the take the edge off is all I ask. For me?"
Castiel sighs. If it would get Gabe off his back, fine; he would do it. Reluctantly Castiel takes the small shot glass off the counter and chugs it in one gulp. He noticeably winces as the alcohol slides down, stinging his throat and chest while he coughs.
"Are you happy?" Castiel gets out between wheezes, shoving the empty glass back at him. "Will you please leave me alone now?"
"What has gotten you all broody?" Gabe asks with a smirk. "I'm not being broody," Castiel spits back. "You're just being horribly irritating. I almost wish I was back at the house with Michael right now."
Gabriel leans away from Castiel, a sarcastic smile plastered to his face. "Why, I'm simply offended! Really? I'm being so annoying that you would rather have Michael, the self-righteous prick's company over mine?"
That breaks him. Cas laughs softly, his sour mood receding for a second. "Okay, fine. I guess I can't resort to an insult that big," he says with a grin, "but it is close!"
Gabriel laughs along with his brother. "Whatever," he replies. "While you're here reading a book, I'm going to find someone more interesting than you. Adios, brother."
And with that, Castiel is alone as one can be in a crowded club.
With a sigh, he turns back to the book in his grip. It is a favorite of his, one he has read many times before. The Great Gatsby feels like a rock in his palm as he turns the pages, knowing he is once again nearing the ending he always hated. It happens every time, but Castiel always hopes the ending will miraculously shift, that Gatsby would not end up dead in the water but would instead get the happy ending he always deserved. Of course that doesn't happen, you can't change the printed word, but Castiel is always one for optimism.
When he finishes and Gatsby is once again dead as a doornail, Castiel pushes the book aside and looks around the room. Are these people that different from the ones in Gatsby's life, living off ecstasy and cheap alcohol to numb themselves to the reality of life? Is this not just one big party, run by an invisible host like Gatsby himself?
He would have pondered farther, but suddenly something catches his attention across the room. Two sparks of bright emerald glow in the distance, glimmering when the strobe lights reflect against them. They remind Castiel of the green light on Daisy Buchanan's dock, pulling him in like the light did to Gatsby. He quickly realizes they are eyes, and they are attached to the most beautiful person Castiel has ever lay a gaze on.
A man that looks like a Greek god stands in the crowd, his bright green gaze scanning the bar like it is Nirvana. His shirt is pulled tight around his body, revealing his toned muscles, and a ragged leather jacket is slung around his shoulders. He walks like a man who has purpose, someone who is confident in himself. It takes all Castiel had not to drool and stare.
He takes all of the man in with a dazed gaze, and doesn't even realize those green eyes are moving forward until they are feet away, moving in his direction.
He is flustered, that is to say the least; Castiel's family never lets him go out and see the world, so his social skills are "a bit rusty". Cas' father told him once that his captivity is for his own good, but he knows the real reason. He has never fit in with his family, the only Novak who can't shoot a gun for his life, the only Novak who doesn't have blood on his hands, the only Novak who prefers working for the college library instead of working for the family mob. That makes him different, and different equates to dangerous in the Novak household. Therefore he is held under strict orders. Only leaving the house for class and work, and never, ever is he to go out to bars and parties, are only a few of the many rules he has to follow. The only reason he is out tonight is because Gabriel snuck him out, and even that is a risk. Castiel often thought that he is like Rapunzel in a tower, locked up and only let out for air.
He is so caught up in these thoughts that he doesn't realize that the attractive man from across the bar is now standing right in front of him, eyeing him with a wolfish grin. "Hey there," the man says in a deep voice that makes Castiel jump from his seat.
"Ah…" Castiel stutters, avoiding looking the man directly in the eye. "Can I help you?"
The man chuckles lightly and takes a seat next to Castiel, grinning at him widely. "Yeah, you can help me. What is it going to take for you to let me buy you a drink tonight?"
Castiel eyes the man suspiciously, sure that this must be some type of mistake. He isn't the type of guy most women, or men in this case, flock to in a crowded bar. He is the type of guys old ladies looked to for assistance, or whom children trusted when they were lost. He isn't the type to be pursued by a gorgeous man in a too-tight tank top, that is for sure.
He flounders about, not exactly sure how to respond to the question. "Is…that a flirtation?" Castiel hedges, already wanting to hit himself when the words come out. This guy must think he is socially inept or something, and he wouldn't be too far off.
The man cackles in a low tone, and Castiel feels a shiver go through his body. "I don't know, is it working? Can I buy you a beer or what?"
He didn't get to answer though before the man is flagging down the bartender, ordering two beers for them and a shot of tequila for himself. He watches as the bartender slings the alcohol down the counter, staring in awe as the man catches both the beers in one hand and his shot glass in the other.
The man turns to Castiel and hands him the drink with a tepid smile. "Hope you like Budweiser."
"Thank you…" "-Dean," the man finishes. "Dean Winchester."
Castiel freezes, the bottle of golden liquid suspended halfway to his lips. A Winchester? Did the universe have something against him? Why is this beautiful man a Winchester and not an Adams or a Johnson? Why is life so unfair?
"So, are you going to give me your name now or just leave me hanging?" Dean asks, popping the cap off of the beer bottle in one click. "Looks like you could use a little bit of social guidance, if you ask me."
Castiel blushes deeply, taking in those teasing green eyes. "My name is Castiel…" he stalls, "…Milton. Castiel Milton."
He looks at Dean with a nervous glance, hoping he doesn't notice his hesitation about the fake name. He decides very quickly that the odds of seeing the Winchester again are slim, and he really needs one night to not be Castiel Novak, prisoner of the house. So what if he used a fake name for a night?
"Castiel, huh?" Dean asks, that small smile never leaving his face. "Well Cas, that is quite the name you've got there. How did your parents come up with that one?"
Castiel grins at the little nickname Dean has given him, already feeling more comfortable. He takes a swig of his drink before he answers, leaning back in his chair. "I wish I knew, but would you believe that my name isn't the strangest in the family?"
"Well I find that hard to believe," Dean smirks, "unless you have a sister name Uhura. Doesn't get much weirder than that. I mean the girl can kick some major ass, but-"
"Wait wait wait," Cas interrupts the Winchester, a warm feeling rising in him. "Don't tell me you like Star Trek?"
Dean leans closer, the smell of hard liquor on his breath. "I may be the biggest geek you've ever met, but don't tell anyone. I also have an encyclopedic knowledge on Game of Thrones, but my brother would tease me so hard if he knew about that talent."
That settles it. Cas feels a warm feeling bubbling up in his stomach, making his heart beat faster and his mind race. Cas told himself he would let Dean go after tonight, but he can't walk away now. No, it is too late for that. He is already falling.