Castiel seemed to show up more and more in Dean Winchester's life, so much he actually came around the hotel room from time to time. Cas would treat Sam like his own brother, and he and Dean would dance around each other. "How has your paper been going, Cas?" Sam asked one day as they sat on one of the hotel beds while Dean lounged on the other mindlessly staring at the tv.
"I'm almost done with it, just have to get a few more paragraphs written." Castiel replied, closing one of the books they had just finished reading.
"How long is the paper?" Sam asked with a curious smile. "And what are you writing about?"
Castiel smiled and opened his bag. "It's nine pages so far, and it's on this book." He answered, handing a book to the boy.
"The Great Gatsby..." Sam read off the cover. "Would you mind reading it to me?"
"If Dean doesn't mind." Cas said, looking over to the spaced out teen. "Hey, Winchester, want to hear the Great Gatsby?"
"No." Dean replied, though it didn't matter what Cas read or when, Dean found himself listening.
Castiel's voice always somehow managed to pull Dean in, lose himself in whatever story those lips were weaving at the time. They all knew this, but it didn't stop Dean from denying everything. Sam and Cas rolled their eyes and Cas opened the well worn and marked book. "In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever sense. "Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone" he told me, "just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had." He didn't say any more, but we've always been able to communicate in a reserved way..."
They kept doing this, reading a chapter or so a night, Sam would dose off on the bed, Cas and Dean would chat, and Cas would go home. It became a sort of routine they fell into easily, almost too easily. "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." Cas' voice trickled out of the room as he closed the book and smiled at Sam, who was already asleep gracelessly beside him.
Petting back some of Sam's long, messy hair Cas moved from the bed. "What do you think he meant by that?" Dean asked, staring up at the ceiling.
Cas picked up some of the things the brother had strewn across the hotel room since the last time he had done it, two nights ago. "That no matter how much progress you try to make, you do it because of your past. You can't lose your past no matter how hard you try, because it's what shapes and motivates you." He said, stacking some things on the table.
"I didn't like Daisy. Why did Gatsby love her so much when she was so..." Dean wasn't able to finish his sentence, unable to properly find the words.
Cas smiled a bit as he worked his way towards Dean in tidying up the room. "It was because he had this ideal of her from their past. He... put her up on this pedestal so to say, he loved her memory of her so much he deluded himself." Castiel tried to explain, picking up an empty bag of pretzels from the floor.
When Cas stood, he felt arms wrap around him from behind, but he couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. "Dean..."
"Please don't say anything Cas." Dean said simply, pressing his nose to Cas' neck. Castiel placed his hands over Dean's arms and sighed, leaning back into the welcoming touch.
"Dean, I have a boyfriend."
"No. You have a boss. Crowley treats you like trash and you still stay with him I don't-" Castiel quickly pulled out of Dean's arms and turned around to glare at Dean.
"You don't know anything, Dean Winchester." Cas growled trying to seem threatening.
Dean only shook his head, reaching up to cup Cas' cheek, only to have the hand slapped away. "I know those bruises you try to hide don't come from a fight, but a beating. Cas, you don't deserve this."
"Who do you think you are trying to tell me what I deserve and what I don't."
"Fine, if you're going to be a little prick about it maybe you do deserve it."
"Then stop trying to save me, Winchester, I will not be your pet project."
Those words struck Dean hard and he raised his fist to hit Cas in retaliation when he saw the look that came on the boy's face. There was fear there, fear and love and an experienced look of bracing himself. Dean dropped his hand and turned away, ashamed of himself. It took Cas a minute to relax and realize that Dean wasn't going to hit him. Cas stared at Dean for a while before turning and gathering his things. The hotel room was quiet when Castiel left, but Sam stared out at the closed door for about a half hour before trying to finally sleep.
