Chapter 4
Dean was freaking out. In ten minutes Cas would be there and dinner was far from ready. He also hadn't had time to take a shower, change his clothes or even tidy up his house. Why had he invited Castiel to dinner? Of course Dean knew why, although he was very careful to not think about the real reason. It was the same reason why he had spent all Wednesday morning in his kitchen, obsessively cooking.
He was extremely curious if his food would manage to get Cas to make these noises again. And he hadn't been disappointed. On the contrary: Castiel had seemed totally lost in relishing the food and moaned even more than while eating at the Roadhouse. Dean had taken that as a big compliment, since he knew how great Ellen's food was.
But now he was under serious pressure. He had gotten stuck at work and then while cooking, he'd noticed that he was missing some vital ingredients for his mother's pot roast, what was why he spontaneously had to change the recipe and had now absolutely no idea how this thing would taste. All in all it had been an absolutely terrible idea to invite Cas over on a work day.
Just when Dean had worked himself into a serious fit, the bell rang and to his astonishment, he felt the stress melt away and a swarm of happy butterflies fluttering through his stomach. Cas was here. Fuck missing ingredients and bad timing and possibly horrible tasting food, fuck dirty clothes and grease all over his face. He knew that they would have a great evening nonetheless.
He hurried to open the door and let Cas in. He looked great in his black suit and tie, his trench coat over one arm. "Hey, buddy, come in." Dean took the coat and hung into the closet. "Well look at you, all dressed up in your fancy suit," he winked at his friend.
"Hello Dean. I'm sorry; I didn't get off of work and came here directly, so I didn't have time to change." He looked at Dean a little sheepishly and if that wasn't the most adorable thing Dean had ever seen...
Dean forced himself to stop staring and tried to wipe off the soft smile he knew was on his face and replace it with a big grin. "Well, that makes two of us," he laughed, gesturing down his greasy clothes. "Speaking of which, now you're here, I guess I'll hit the shower. Could you watch the oven maybe? You don't need to do anything, just make sure the house doesn't burn down." He had led Cas into the kitchen and positioned him at the table, glass of wine before him, "Be right back."
Dean quickly fetched fresh clothes from his bedroom and went into the shower, carefully not thinking about fluttery feeling that was still in his stomach and increased every time his thoughts wandered to the man in his kitchen. He forced himself to finish his shower quickly, get dressed and return to the kitchen without checking his appearance first.
Castiel was standing in front of Dean's picture wall, back to the door, wine glass in hand, studying Dean's collection of family photos. For a moment Dean just stood there and watched. For some reason it was great to see Cas like this; relaxed, content and in Dean's home. He had shed his suit jacket and it looked like he had loosened his tie, too and Dean couldn't help but think that Cas looked like he'd just gotten home from work on a normal day. He looked like he belonged into Dean's kitchen, his house, his life.
Without realizing it, he started walking towards Cas, who was so occupied with the pictures he didn't notice him. He jumped a little when Dean was suddenly next to him, reaching for the photo Castiel had been looking at. It was the picture of a young blonde woman, sitting in the grass under a tree. "That's my mom. The only photo we've got of her alone."
He handed the frame to Cas, who took a moment to study it and then put it back on its nail, smiled and said, "She's beautiful."
Dean looked at his friend and smiled, then quickly turned back to the wall. "Yeah, she was. This one was taken when I was two, way before Sammy was born. And that one's my favorite." He took a small frame off the wall and held it so Cas could look at the picture with him. It showed the blonde woman under the same tree like the first picture, but now there was a little boy next to her, who was holding a baby. The boy was looking down at the baby in his arms, eyes full of wonder and the woman watched her sons lovingly. "It was taken the day they brought Sammy home. Look how tiny he was." Dean chuckled. "It's the only picture of us three we've got. Everything else was lost in the fire."
"She clearly loved you very much." Castiel said softly.
"Yes she did. That's the thing I remember the most. This pure, unconditional, warm love. I miss that." Dean could feel the tears welling up, but could do nothing to stop them. "And she and my dad, they were so in love. Of course, they had their problems and fights, everybody has. But when my dad talked about her later, it always seemed like this epic, perfect love story. Growing up with these stories, I guess you can't help but idolize it and unconsciously start looking for something like that too..." He trailed off, still staring at the photo and to his embarrassment felt a single tear slipping down his face.
"You will have that, too," Castiel said softly.
Dean finally tore his gaze off of his mother's face and looked at his friend. "You think?" He could hear the doubt in his own voice.
"Of course, Dean. If this is what you really want in your life, then I'm sure you will find it someday." Cas smiled at him and reached his hand out towards his face. Only then Dean realized just how close they were standing. He unintentionally held his breath when Castiel's hand touched his face, using his thumb to gently wipe Dean's tear away. Dean didn't move, he didn't do anything; he just stood there and stared into Cas' eyes, while the other man stared back, the soft smile still on his lips and his hand still cupping Dean's face.
Suddenly it became too much for Dean. He felt on the verge of doing something incredibly stupid, like lean into the touch or something worse. So he did the only thing that came to his mind in such situations and he hated himself for it before he even opened his mouth.
"Yeah, you're right!" he barked out, forcing a grin onto his face, what made Cas pull his hand back. "I don't even know if I want that! Actually my life is pretty perfect as it is. No strings, no responsibilities. And besides, it would be totally unfair to all the other ladies, to restrict access to this, wouldn't it?" he winked and gestured to his body.
Castiel smiled and nodded, "Absolutely," and Dean was sure that the shadow and short blink of disappointment on his face had just been his imagination.
"Well, anyway. Enough with the chick flick moments!" he said, hanging the picture back on the wall. "I guess dinner's ready. Take a seat, let's eat!" Dean quickly stumbled to the oven, taking a few deep breaths to compose himself. The pot roast smelled delicious and he desperately hoped it would taste that way, too.
"I hope you like pot roast. I had to improvise a little bit, 'cause I had no time for shopping, but I guess it'll be okay." He put the pot on the table in front of his friend, then went to fetch the potatoes and salad.
"Mmmh..." Cas inhaled deeply. "If the smell is any indication, it will be amazing."
Dean blushed and grinned, relieved that the mood was returning to normal. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He knew he was a good cook and had every right to be proud of it. But it somehow seemed especially important to him that Cas thought so too. He sat down opposite of Castiel, refilled both of their wine glasses and smiled. "Dig in."
The food was great. Dean was very nearly moaning himself, but to his immense satisfaction Cas wasn't able to hold his enthusiasm in. "Oh my god, Dean! That is incredible! Where did you learn to cook like that? Ohh..." Cas managed to purr between mouthfuls of food.
Dean was thankful for the question, since it distracted him from the noises Cas made and his own body's reaction to them. He smirked, pleased about the success of his cooking. "I didn't really learn it anywhere. I one day started to cook things out of my mom's cookbook and sort of went from there."
For the next hour they happily stuffed themselves with food – Cas had brought an apple pie, made by Gabriel, for dessert – and talked about everything that came to mind. But when Cas didn't get a Star Wars reference for the third time, Dean had enough. "Okay, that's it dude! We're gonna watch Star Wars. Now! Grab your plate and the glass, we're moving to the couch."
Castiel laughed, but complied immediately. Dean carried the rest of the pie and a new bottle of wine to the living room, where he put the DVD in before he fetched his plate and glass and sat next to Castiel on the couch. "Pay attention now! You're gonna watch one of the best movies of all time. It was released 1977, but it retains its status up to this day."
They fell silent after that. Now and then Dean sneaked a glance at his friend and was incredibly pleased to see that Castiel was completely riveted by the film.
Dean couldn't really enjoy the movie, because he wasn't able to ignore the fact that they were sitting so close their shoulders and thighs brushed every time one of them leaned forward to pick up his glass or eat some pie. Castiel seemed entirely unfazed by that, but Dean felt a rush of adrenaline every time.
So, naturally, stupid masochist that he was, he took plenty of sips of his wine and when he went to replace the empty bottle one hour into the film, he carefully sat back onto the same spot as before. He told himself that he only did this to try and figure out what all of this was about, but when the end credits rolled and Cas turned to look at him with a happy and excited expression, he promptly forgot to breath and was nowhere closer to know why, than before.
"Dean! That was amazing! And there are more of them? Can we watch them too?"
The mechanic couldn't help but laugh loudly. "I knew you'd love it! Of course we can watch the other parts. But..." he took a glance at his watch, "it's one in the morning already. Maybe we should do that some other time. We don't wanna miss going to the shelter tomorrow morning after all."
Cas looked totally shocked at that. "So late? Oh god, you're right. I'll call a cab immediately. Hopefully I won't oversleep tomorrow morning." Cas leapt from the sofa to fetch his cell phone, but without thinking Dean reached out and quickly grabbed his wrist.
"Wait. Cas, that's ridiculous. It's Friday night, it's gonna take forever to get a cab now. You can stay here, the couch is pretty comfortable to sleep on and I'd be happy to do it. We can drive to the shelter together in the morning, makes more sense anyway."
Castiel just stared at him, unbelieving but also considering. "But... I can't just stay here. I have no other clothes with me and I can't possibly keep wearing this suit for another day. And my cat, Jasper..."
Dean knew he wouldn't do any of this if he hadn't drunk the major part of three bottles of wine, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to give a shit about that. "That's no problem. You can have a shirt and sweats from me to sleep in and I'm sure I'll find something you can wear tomorrow as well. I'm pretty sure the cats won't mind if you don't come in suit and tie a single time," he winked. "Come on Cas, it's ridiculous to try and call a cab now."
Castiel looked at him for a moment longer, then he suddenly yawned widely and they both had to laugh. "All right," Cas smiled. "But I'm taking the couch."
For a moment Dean considered objecting, but then decided against it. He knew that this probably wasn't an easy situation for Cas, going this far out of his comfort zone and it was amazing he was even willing to do this. "Okay, I'm gonna get some clothes and a blanket for you."
He went to his closet, picked an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats, and then decided to get the clothes for tomorrow as well. He took his most comfortable pair of jeans and his favorite Led Zeppelin shirt, grabbed his own blanket off the bed and returned to the living room. "Here ya go. That's for tomorrow. I'll set the alarm. G'night Cas." He smiled and left the room.
At the door to his bedroom he had another thought and returned to the living room once more. "I forgot, towels are-"
He broke off and just stared, mouth hanging open awkwardly. Castiel stood in front of the couch, dressed in Dean's sweat pants and his own, opened dress shirt, tie resting loosened on his naked chest. Dean's eyes raked over smooth tanned skin, down to a flat stomach and a dark trail of hair that disappeared into the sweat pants, which were sitting very low on prominent hipbones and... was that a tattoo? There, just over the left hipbone was a tattoo of foreign looking symbols.
Dean's eyes paused there for a moment, before they traveled back up, over the broad muscular chest and the slightly stubbled neck, over chapped lips, until they met deep blue eyes, staring back in surprise. That was what pulled him out of his haze and back into reality. Dean was absolutely horrified when he realized what had just happened and he blushed harder than ever before in his life.
He quickly turned away, barely avoiding to slam face first into the doorframe and stuttered, "Oh god, uhm, I'm so sorry... uhm, I just... uhm, towels. They're in the closet... in the, uhm, bathroom. Take what you need! Night!" he called, already half way back in his bedroom, where he slammed the door behind him, collapsing against it.
He took several deep breaths to calm himself, burying his face in his hands, still mortified. It took him nearly half an hour to convince himself that everything was fine, he had just been surprised and it was perfectly normal that he had taken a look at Cas' body, he was good looking, after all. Nothing to worry about. And when he finally way lying in his bed, carefully not thinking about how great Cas would most likely be looking in his clothes the next day, he fell asleep rather quickly and absolutely didn't dream about blue eyes and strange tattoos over gorgeous hipbones.
*#*#*#*#*
Castiel didn't get much sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Dean, standing in the doorway, staring at him with wide eyes and an expression Cas couldn't place. Nobody had ever looked at him like that before, so the accountant was at a complete loss at what it meant. He was alternating between staring blankly at the ceiling and turning to his side, burying his face in the cozy blanket. It had a lovely scent, a mixture of detergent, fabric softener and... Dean. Had Dean given him his own blanket?
Cas inhaled deeply, smiling to himself and relished in the thought that he was adding a tiny bit of his own scent to the mix. This made him think about Dean using the blanket again and the question if he would notice. This line of thought involuntarily led him back to earlier, to Dean's gaze upon his body and the question of what it meant. Cas could only hope that Dean wasn't mad at him or disgusted or something like that.
Around six a.m. he gave up. He knew that Dean's alarm would go off at seven o'clock, so he had enough time to take a shower and maybe even make some breakfast – or coffee, at least. He found the towels where Dean had told him he would and even a small collection of wrapped toothbrushes, but he preferred not to think about their purpose. He took his time, the shower working wonders in clearing his overtired head. Then he toweled himself down and put on the clothes Dean had given him.
He had to admit that it was really comfortable to wear something different than a suit for a change. He knew it was stupid to go to the animal shelter in a suit, but he couldn't help it. It was some kind of armor, it helped him feel safe. When he wore a suit, he was Castiel Lord, accountant, not just Cassie, shy and anxious. It wasn't much, but it gave him at least a little bit of professional confidence he could hide behind. But when he spent time with Dean, he noticed this urge less and less often.
And it was also really nice to wear another set of Dean's clothes, even though they were a little large for him. He briefly tried to arrange his hair a bit, but it somehow ended up even messier than before, so he gave up. It was ridiculous, really. His hair was the one part of his appearance that never quite fit with his professional appearance.
But it didn't matter anyway. Even if his hair did what he wanted it to do, he would still be boring, plain Castiel and, of course, a man, what made him completely uninteresting to Dean anyway.
He mentally scolded himself for thinking like this, he could be thankful that Dean even wanted to be his friend. That was more than he had ever had before. With a deep sigh, Castiel looked at his watch, saw that Dean would get up soon, and he went to the kitchen to start making breakfast.
