Castiel's tie dropped to the floor as he sighed deeply. The apartment he had been stuck in for the past ten years was a darkened blur around him, as he shed layers of clothing and collapsed on his bed. This was partly because he had a veritable ocean of emotions swirling in a disheveled storm in his mind, and also because he hadn't had a paycheck with which to pay the electric bill. His breath rose up in front of him in misty spirals, and appeared as if it belonged in an enchanted forest.
He couldn't focus on anything, except perhaps the many scenarios floating through his vision, many of all the possible ways in which his life could fall from this new high he had achieved. Some made sense only in the darkest realms of science fiction. Many scared him. But some brought him such joy, a feeling of complete contentedness that he hadn't felt in a very long time.
He glanced at his old wall clock, which despite his every attempt to wind it properly, was a constant seven minutes behind. It read a proud thirteen minutes past ten. So it was already 10:20? Cas was exhausted, but at the same time, abuzz with….something. What was it? Happiness? Yes. Nerves? Also yes. Heat flowed through him making each nerve ending come alive, every swish of the fabric of the sheets on his skin much louder and it brought a vibrating haze to his mind.
The doorknob. The window that was far too tall and had just enough of a curtain to fend off sunlight in the morning. The ceiling with off-white spackle that was far too yellow to be at all white flaking onto his nose. The window again. No matter how he lay, Cas couldn't but close his eyes and have the face of his new employer cloud his dreams. No, he couldn't sleep. Not when he had so many things to think about. A loose blue tie and a tan jacket later and Cas was nowhere to be found around the dreary old apartment.
It was now almost 11:30, and Cas was making his way downtown, walking fast, and nearly broke through a shop window when he slipped on the slightly icy ground beneath him. He figured that now he had a job at Cirque de Ceros and a paycheck, at least for a little while, he could go out and celebrate seeing as he couldn't sleep. Besides, his apartment was freezing. A little beer and warmth sounded much better. Cas' feet were on auto pilot, and he found himself standing in front of the door to a small pub he often went to, to drown his sorrows. But today, he was here, at Carroll's Corner Pub, to celebrate. Yes. He was happy.
A familiar cheery bell, rusted over from the many years of rain and snow battering it as the door was opened over and over, greeted Cas as he shuffled inside, waved half-heartedly to the bartender, and rubbed his hands together, in an attempt to shoo away the tendrils of ice on his fingers. Once satisfied with the job, he made his way over to the deep mahogany bar, the wood stained such a striking shade of burgundy, you wouldn't notice all the dents and scratches until you had been looking at it long enough, by which point you would be drunk and not really care enough to remember.
Beer in hand, tan coat roughly shoved into a corner, Cas was finally able to sit and organize his thoughts. He made a list.
1) He was undeniably infatuated, if not completely in love with a man he had only recently met.
2) He had about the same chances with him as he did with Angelina Jolie.
3) This man was his new boss.
4) This is a very bad thing.
5) He needs to quit while he's ahead and push away any ideas of a relationship with Dean.
6) Even if he did try to pursue that path, Dean was likely as straight as an arrow, and likely already in a relationship with someone much more deserving than Castiel. (But still not completely deserving)
7) He needed to push aside his social anxiety and work on a professional relationship.
8) Dean just walked into the bar.
9) He starts work tomorrow and probably shouldn't be drinking, seeing as he can barely hold a single beer.
10) Shit! Dean just walked into the bar!
Having not processed this, Castiel choked and started coughing, trying to avoid drawing attention to himself. 'I can't deal with this right now!' thanking whatever god there was that he had paid for the beer beforehand, he quickly shrugged on his coat and turned up the collar to avoid Dean's gaze, and shuffled toward the door in hopes of escaping unnoticed.
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Dean shivered deeper into his favorite leather jacket against the frigid night air as he sauntered up to his favorite bar, Carroll's Corner Pub. He loved the place with it's alluringly grimy atmosphere and rustic decor. He loved the cracked and worn stools at the bar and the dusty mirror behind the bottles. He even loved the tired chime of the ancient bell that greeted him whenever he entered.
He gave a cheery wave to the bartender he had long since befriended and took his customary glance around. His eyes roved over the usual array of bikers, pool sharks and businessmen and caught on someone he had never seen there before. The man looked familiar, but Dean couldn't quite put his finger on where he had seen this gorgous man. He definitely would remember knowing him.
It hit Dean like a brick wall. The man sitting in a booth solitary, nursing a beer and looking alarmingly like he was having a minor heart attack was the new performer he had hired not 3 hours before. Castiel. How could Dean have not remembered a face as perfect as Cas's?
Distracted by his internal scolding, he almost didn't notice when Cas just about sprinted out the door, leaving behind a half finished beer and the rusty echo of the bell marking his exit. Slightly alarmed by the hasty escape, Dean furrowed his brow and wondered briefly if he had done something wrong. He sure hoped he hadn't, that would ruin what little chance he had at scoring a date with the socially awkward aerialist.
The irony of that thought did not escape Dean seeing as he was here to have a date with some woman his brother Sam had set him up with.
Sam had promised that while she was a law student, she wasn't as snooty as most other ones he had sent Dean's way. She was certainly Dean's type if he had one. That much was evident the moment they locked eyes from across the room. She flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder and sauntered over to Dean, giving him a gorgous smile that showcased a set of perfect teeth. She was thin but not too skinny, her jeans hugged her hips and her shirt, just too short to cover her entire midsection, outlined seductively protruding hip bones and a strip of bronzed skin.
As the date progressed, Dean tried to be interested. He really did. Under different circumstances, he would have had no trouble. She had the cutest laugh, she was smart and witty and seemed to think Dean's stupid jokes were funny enough. He loved the way she would bat long eyelashes at him and gaze at him with her light brown eyes.
Yes, if the day hadn't progressed in the way it had, if Dean hadn't met Castiel or even if he hadn't seen him sitting alone in this very bar, Dean would have loved to love this woman. Unfortunately the only thing Dean could really think about was Cas. His sapphire eyes that glistened with passion as he danced, how painfully awkward his social interactions were with other people. His almost complete transformation he underwent as soon as that spotlight hit his golden skin.
Dean felt horrible for this woman. She was obviously very interested in him and here he was acting distracted and distant. From that moment on, he focused all his attention on her. Or tried anyway. Thoughts of Castiel kept popping unexpectedly into his thoughts, stunting him mid-sentence and taking his mind elsewhere while his date was talking.
Though he found his date to be a very interesting and sexy woman, he was glad when the date was over. It was late and his brain was exhausted from exhorting so much effort in trying not to distract himself with thoughts of Cas.
After a rather awkward hug-handshake thing, they parted ways. He sincerely hoped he had made their date a pleasurable one even though he wasn't interested and had probably acted as such. He really hoped she didn't think he was a douchebag...
He flopped gratefully face first onto his bed, groaning in exhaustion as he rolled to his back. He gazed at the ceiling through the dark, his imagination once more painting vivid images of Cas in various scenarios. He huffed out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand until he saw spots. What the hell is going on? He thought, pushing away a particularly sensual picture of Cas in the lyra. Dean barely knew the guy's name. He knew nothing about Castiel other than the fact that he was socially awkward, an amazing performer, and he really didn't like seeing Dean in bars.
Why was he so captivated by Cas? Why was this beautiful man suddenly all he could think about? Dean should be used to beautiful people by now, being in show business, he was constantly surrounded by them. Somehow Cas was different. Dean was not one to believe in love at first sight but his unnecessarily strong reaction to Cas's very presence was proving him wrong.
"Cas. Castiel. Cassy." He mumbled the nicknames to himself, marveling at the way they so easily fit in his mouth and rolled off his tongue. He was going crazy. That was the only explanation. Castiel didn't even exist, the Renaissance man was a figment of his imagination dreamed up by desperation for the love his previous relationship had stripped him of. But how could Dean dream up something so perfect? It simply wasn't in his mental capacity. So Cas must be real...
Dean fell asleep thinking along those very lines, picturing the man in question, imaging twining his arms around the other man, smiling against the lean muscle of his shoulder and planting tired kisses over his back... Dean fell asleep with the name Castiel on his lips.
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So... short chapter is short. This is one of those slow chapters that doesn't really go anywhere, but still needs to be there for plot development, and there will likely be a few of these, so bear with me. Umm... there isn't really much else necessary to say, so see you next update!
