A/N: Wow! Dew Diamonds, hellosweetpea, Autumn Alchemist, and guests, thank you for the reviews! They make me very happy. To my guest who mentioned the whole "body and soul" thing, I was going for as close as I could get to love at first sight. I know a lot of people don't believe it can happen, but to those who've experienced something like it, it's violent, terrifying, and all-consuming. It's possible to be totally mad for them in only a few hours. That was my mentality towards it.
And now for some angsty, freaked out Dean and a Castiel we haven't seen before.
Chapter Three
Dean ignored Sam's calls. Sam called constantly for three days, and Dean lay on his couch listening to the voicemail pickup.
"Dean, it's Sam. I think we should talk about what happened. I mean, you've scared my boyfriends before, but punching a car? What was that? Call me back." Beep.
"Dean, seriously, you have to talk to me at some point in time. I just want to know if everything is okay with you. Call me." Beep.
"Pick up your damn phone." Beep.
"Dean I'm coming to your apartment right now, so help me god." Beep.
"Fine, you win. Call me when you feel like being human again." Beep.
Dean felt awful, but what was he supposed to do? He was the other man in Sam's relationship. If the hook up didn't count, then that kiss kind of made it clear. How did he look Sam in the eyes after that?
Instead, Dean threw himself into his work, taking up every extra shift available at the garage. Ash thought he was saving up for something big and offered to drive them to Vegas together. Garth played engine-side therapist and kept telling Dean that he was distantly related to Oprah, so Dean could talk to him about anything.
Jo was the most suspicious. She could usually read him like an open book, so he tried to stay as closed off as possible.
"Girl troubles?" Jo crossed her arms, eyeing Dean's tense expression under the hood of a Toyota Camry. "Guy troubles?"
Dean hit the back of his head on the hood and cursed.
Jo smiled triumphantly. "Guy troubles, huh? Did you meet someone?"
"No," Dean grunted, crossing the room to fiddle with equipment.
"I know when you're lying, Dean," Jo followed him. "Don't talk about those bottled up feelings, just tell me what happened. Then we can get drunk tonight and talk about your feelings then."
Dean snorted. That's usually how it went: he would give Jo the bare minimum, Jo would infer the rest, and then Jo would feed him tequila until he spilled everything. "It was just a one-night-stand," he partially-lied. "I don't even know his name. And I can't go out with you tonight, I have the last shift."
"Oh come on!" Jo pouted. "You never take the last shift! You've worked overtime the last three days! Jeez, Dean, you're gonna burn yourself out."
Dean wiped his greasy hands on a towel and picked up a stack of papers. "Hey, maybe I'm planning a trip to Vegas and need the money."
He gave her a snarky grin as Ash yelled from the back, "I'm driving!"
"Alright, Dean Johnathan Winchester. You stew in your juices for a few days. Your tequila will be ready when you come crawling back." Jo ruffled his hair and walked off.
Dean sat, grumbling about the motor oil in his hair as the shifts changed. 6:00 came and went, and soon only Dean and Kevin were left. Dean thought about working on that new (old) car for Sam he was planning, but didn't have the energy to get his ass up and do something productive.
It was almost 8:30 when Dean saw a tow truck pulling into their lot. He squinted, trying to assess the damage before the car was even brought up. There was only a small dent, but the wheel was twisted funny. He definitely wouldn't be able to finish fixing that in an hour.
Kevin ran out to help the truck driver detach the car and the car's owner opened the door and stepped down. Jesus Tapdancing Christ. It was Cas. The blue-eyed man was looking down at his phone as he walked towards the shop.
There were those butterflies again. That is, if the butterflies were angry and on fire. Dean found his extremities tingling and his heart rate rising.
No! He needed to calm the fuck down. His hands itched to pull the man to himself, but he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't even touch Cas, not at all. He needed to focus on something else besides feelings. Annoyance. Yeah, it was only an hour til they closed and Dean wanted to go home. He could be annoyed. Dean stood outside with his arms crossed, and when Cas got close enough, he cleared his throat.
Big blue eyes crashed with green and Dean reminded himself that he was at work, and he was annoyed. "I-I thought you didn't work this late," the man stuttered.
"How do you know my work schedule?" Dean asked, curious.
"I asked Sam so I never had to bother you, and..." he stepped into the light and Dean immediately noticed the tear stains on his cheeks.
All the previous annoyance fled. Something was wrong. Alarm bells went off in Dean's head. "Cas, what happened? Are you hurt?" Dean closed the distance between them and put his hands on the blue-eyed man's shoulders, immediately breaking his promise for the night.
"I'm fine." Cas' lip trembled and, without thinking, Dean's thumb came up to soothe the quivering flesh. Cas' eyes widened and Dean immediately removed his hands, floundering before he clenched them tightly at his sides. His brain was screaming StopNoBad! but his heard begged YesGoodMore!
"Come here," Dean ordered gently, leading him towards the part of the garage where his car would be parked. There were a few little plastic seats against the wall, and Cas collapsed into one.
"Do you want, uh coffee? Tea? Something stronger?" Dean asked, not exactly sure where the line between hospitable and doting was.
Cas chuckled humorlessly. "Tea would be nice, thank you."
Dean forced his pace to slow and steady, though he wanted to rush to comfort Cas. The tea they had for the customers was kind of shitty, but he made it anyway.
Cas accepted the steaming styrofoam cup, and their fingers brushed. They tingled, but before Dean could say anything, Kevin called over to him. "A little help here, Dean?"
The two got the car into the garage and Dean focused on inspected it. It was a modest 2001 Chevy Cavalier, black. One of Cas' rims was damaged and the CV joint had failed completely.
Dean relayed the information to the blue-eyed man. "We're gonna have to replace the whole axle. The boot too. I can fix the rim damage. We don't have all the parts though, so," he looked pointedly away from Cas, "it'll take a few days. Maybe more."
Cas groaned, and Dean's dirty mind immediately turned it into the hungry moans from two Sundays ago. No, bad Dean. The man was upset, for god's sake! Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll have to start the repairs tomorrow."
Kevin went back inside to write all this down, and Dean sat on the other plastic chair. "Do, uh, do you need me to call Sam to come get you?"
Cas shook his head. "Sam and I are fighting again."
There was a pause. "Do you want me to take you home?" That was stupid, he shouldn't have offered that. Cas would think he was propositioning him, and-
"Yes, please," he murmured, finishing the tea.
Dean nodded, somewhat surprised. "Okay," he mumbled.
After telling Kevin and grabbing his keys, Cas followed him to the Impala. It was silent as the two sat in the car, save Castiel giving the occasional direction. After several minutes, Dean asked, "Why did you think you'd bother me if you showed up during my shift?"
"The last time I saw you, you punched through a windshield," Cas deadpanned. "I didn't think you were keen on seeing me again after that." Dean nodded to himself. Made sense. After a few moments, Cas peered sideways at him. "You don't seem to mind now."
Dean opened and closed his mouth like a fish. What did he say to that? Of course I don't mind, I wouldn't mind if you were glued to my side. Dean cleared his throat as they came to a stop sign. "Right or left?"
Cas pointed, and Dean took a right. His small house was about a ten minutes drive from Dean's apartment, not that Dean noticed or anything. It was the only modern one in the neighborhood, surrounded by 70's style houses.
Dean turned into Cas' driveway and shut the engine off. They sat there for a moment, staring at each other, air crackling with tension.
"Will you come inside?" Cas asked. "Just to talk. I need someone to talk to right now."
Dean nodded numbly and followed Cas into his house. It was pretty sparsely furnished, with couches, a television, and some books adorning the living room. Cas beelined for the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. He poured two cups and handed one to Dean. Dean observed Cas quietly. The blue-eyed man stared at his mug for a minute, then reached into a cupboard for a bottle of Bailey's and added a generous amount to his. He immediately took a huge gulp, cringing at the scalding liquid.
"Cas-"
"I actually don't want to talk," Cas mumbled.
Dean awkwardly stood at the entrance to the kitchen. "Should I leave?"
"No," Cas said quietly. "I just..." he stopped and finally made eye contact with Dean. There was a heartbreaking expression on his face, and Dean forgot about everything that shouldn't be happening. He walked right up to Cas and wrapped his arms around him. Cas buried his face into Dean's shoulder, clenching fistfuls of Dean's shirt behind his back.
They stood like that for several moments, just holding each other. It felt right, like Cas belonged right there in his arms. It was platonic, Dean told himself. Just a friend comforting another friend.
After a while, Cas let go and led Dean towards his couch. Dean sat and Cas moulded himself to the Winchester's side. "My brother was just arrested," Cas said quietly. Dean's eyes widened, but he said nothing. "Luke had been embezzling his company's money for a few years, and I knew about it. I didn't condone it, obviously, but I wasn't going to turn my own brother in. The Michael found out that I knew and ripped me a thousand new ones, then turned Luke in. Now Luke's going to court and Michael won't talk to me and Anna's talking about moving to Paris and Gabriel's MIA and-"
"Breathe, sweetheart," Dean murmured, stroking Cas' hair as the other man tried not to hyperventilate. When he seemed fine again, Dean spoke up nervously. "This is a horrible time to bring this up, but why aren't you talking to Sam about this?"
Cas chuckled humorlessly. "I kind of tried. I mentioned Luke, but he got all lawyer on me and started asking for the technical stuff. That wasn't the point I was trying to make. Besides," Cas heaved a sigh, "he doesn't like talking about sad stuff. He just wants to cheer me up right away. But I don't want to cheer up. I don't want to force happiness all the time, and then we fight, and..." He fell silent.
Dean nodded. "I am the poster child for not dealing with shit well, but it's okay to be upset. You need to be upset, at least a little." He traced lines on the back of Cas' hand. "As long as you don't bottle shit up for fifteen years like I do, then you have every right to be sad or angry. Just," Dean huffed, "don't be angry at yourself, okay? Your brothers put you in a shit position, and you were just trying your best. Nothing here is your fault."
Cas was quiet for a long time. Minutes ticked by, and Dean almost thought Cas fell asleep until he whispered, "Thank you, Dean."
It was nearing ten 'o clock, and Dean had to be at work by nine the next morning. He knew he smelled like salt and motor oil. He wasn't sure why Cas still wanted him here, but he didn't want to leave yet.
"Let's get you to bed," Dean murmured, pulling the blue-eyed man to his feet. Castiel walked to a door at the far end of the living room and pushed it open. He left it open, and Dean crept to the doorway. Cas toed off his shoes and pulled off his shirt quickly, apparently uncaring that Dean was there. He went so far as to kick off his jeans and don sweatpants.
Dean groaned inwardly. Cas undressing in front of him reminded him so much of that night. He wanted to touch again, taste again, wrap himself around Cas and mark him as his own. He kept his hands pressed firmly to his sides, though. There were countless reasons that he couldn't do those things. Shouldn't do them.
It took him by surprise when Cas suddenly focused and marched right up to Dean, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Dean responded automatically, pressing his palms against Cas' naked back and pulling him close. Cas felt desperate, clutching onto what little comfort was in his reach. Dean matched everything Cas gave him, desperation included.
It was only a moment or so until their kissing slowed, becoming a different type of desperate. They stopped, foreheads touching. Reality set in, and they disentangled themselves from each other, tension thick in the air. They stood almost eye to eye; Cas was only an inch or two shorter than Dean.
"Good night, Dean," Cas murmured.
"Good night, Cas," Dean said. He didn't really remember leaving Cas' house and getting into his car. All he felt was half of a hard-on and a terrible ache in his chest.
A/N: How do we feel about vulnerable Cas? Reviews are much appreciated!