Chapter 4 - Joker and the Thief (Part 2)
The upstairs landing situated at the top of the massive staircase faced quite a large window and as Castiel stared he could only wish his trusty camera was in his hands. Slowly setting in the distance was the blazing sun, the burst of fiery colours contrasting beautifully against the darkening blue and the faint grey of the clouds.
Beneath him were various costumed people sauntering in through the door, some of them dumping unopened packets of crisps on the large buffet table decorated appropriately for the occasion. On the far right end of the floor was a bar and hired tender serving the best quality beer and wine to the enthusiastic patrons, somewhere underneath the balcony Castiel stood upon was what could only be described as a huge sound system set up in front of a large pair of double doors with many CD's just begging to be played, and to the left was an extension of the dance floor.
There were hardly any tables and chairs in sight, the very few of them placed in front of the bar taken up by the early arrivals with cup stains already defacing the polished wood. On the center of each table there was a large plastic bowl filled to the brim with assortments of themed sweets and surrounding the bowl were small skulls, vampire teeth, cobwebs, and other Halloween decorations.
Castiel averted his attention to the students, already feeling the paint cracking against the skin of his face when he frowned. Never had he seen a scientist without a shirt. Surely that would be extremely dangerous.
"I see you're checking out Bill Nye the Science Guy over there." A rubber hook clapped on his shoulder, startling him from his confused daze. Gabriel flashed him a suggestive smirk, but he should have known that Castiel found no appeal in under dressed students.
"I'm not "checking out" anyone," came the blatant reply before a loud obnoxious huff.
"Whatever you say, Cassie."
When the sky began to darken, the music started up a steady beat and even more students filed through the door, a lot of them already holding bright red solo cups that are only ever seen in movies. Castiel stared with interest at the excited crowd mingled together without a second thought as to who was who - it even looked as though sworn enemies had abandoned their ties and danced up against each other inappropriately.
With unappreciated encouragement from his brother, Castiel mustered up the courage to join the students on the floor below rocking and swaying to the heavy pulse of the music, but at the alarming rate of Gabriel's alcohol being consumed, Castiel guessed he would only be able to tolerate the cramped spacing and overused cologne for a short while.
He could thankfully feel very few eyes on him as he quickly descended the grand staircase with his brother in tow, resisting touching his hand to the railing on the way down to somehow avoid looking like what Gabriel called a "pompous ass."
The bar was what caught the young student's interest the most and he approached without a second thought, grabbing the closest untouched drink and downing it instantly, feeling ever so slightly more relaxed when the unidentified liquid slid down his throat like fire - he had a bit of a taste for strong burning drinks.
He slammed the shot glass back down on the bar, subtly demanding for another of whatever drink it was - which happened to be Whiskey - and plopped himself down on a tall bar stool that would have left his feet dangling in the air if it weren't for the stretcher. He crossed his ankles, resting the bridge of his left foot against the stretcher and leaned back slightly to prop his elbow up on the edge of the counter. He had full observational view of the floor, the way Castiel liked it.
Searching the room for a brief amount of time, he caught the eyes of the student Gabriel compared to Bill Nye staring at him from one of the tables close to the bar. Although it seemed that he didn't quite understand where Castiel's own eyes were. The "scientist" offered a highly exaggerated wink, parting his coat even further to reveal his lean chest, his dark skin glistening with sweat. Slightly disgusted, Castiel averted his gaze in hope that the drinking student would stop staring, but he instead caught the eyes of another individual.
Bright green that could only ever be depicted in romance novels and the best of animated Disney films bore into his and Castiel couldn't care less about the bodies of those around him that passed by in an absent blur, leaving everything unfocused but the tall man before him, who seemed to be just as unable to look away.
Even better, he was dressed as Batman.
Castiel found it to be quite ironic in his academically advanced mind, but he couldn't find the voice to laugh as it had caught up in his throat, suffocating him with a sweet torture that this tall stranger brought upon him within seconds of being in the anxious boy's sight. Eyes unwillingly traced down the masked face to the plump pink lips that stood out against softly tanned skin and a light stubble, bringing Castiel's mentality to its knees.
He could tell that he wanted this stranger and his heart beat rapidly in a lust driven state, threatening to burst through his ribcage and tear him apart from the inside out. Trouble surrounded the stranger - it was a deadly aura that seemed to latch itself onto girls and the occasional boy passing, drawing them into his infectious smile as though it were a great parasite.
However, what truly terrified Castiel about it all was the fact that he knew he was caught. It was game over the second the disease had hit him full force when he glanced into those eyes.
The man seemed to move with a smooth swagger that had been practiced frequently to the point where it was all too natural. Around the tables he moved, dragging costumed fingertips along the decorated table cloths and swirling them through the false stringy cobwebs. He maneuvered around tables and those groups of people that were standing parted like a red sea for the large looking male whilst he sauntered over to where Castiel sat at the bar.
Tension continued to build and by this point it would have so strong that it could be felt from the other side of the room, which Castiel confirmed was pretty far. Down the hatch went another drink and the burn brought feeling back to Castiel's rigid body, his shoulders rolling and his neck clicking in a failed attempt to relax whilst the ironically dressed stranger sat himself down on the stool next to Castiel's with a cheeky grin parting his lips and revealing pearly white teeth.
"What's your poison?" His voice was incredibly smooth and playful, subtle suggestions of something much less innocent balancing on the tip of his tongue. A curious frown etched its way onto Castiel's brow.
He was certain he had heard that voice before.
"Whiskey," he answered as nonchalantly as he could, even though he knew his averted eyes betrayed him.
A tight grin pulled against the confines of Dean's mask when the Joker before him said his preferred drink. It happened to be one of his personal favourites.
"Shots, on me!" He called down the bar, glancing at the surprisingly accurate figure of the suited up man with the painted face, unknowingly taking extra care to slowly drag his eyes down the stranger's thighs.
"You don't have to do that." He seemed nervous, almost uncomfortable with the entire situation, but Dean shrugged in response with plans to just drink his brains out and screw the closest girl with an attractive body. He had a reputation of stealing a hot girl to uphold, not that it was a good one in anyone else's books.
Only a few shots later is when Dean starting feeling the effect. His vision was clouded with desire as his legs screamed at him to get up and dance, but the only thing that kept him from moving was the seemingly irresistible urge to grab the not so crazy Joker and defy the laws of DC movies and comics alike.
But no, Dean Winchester was not into boys.
At least, that's what he continued to tell himself over and over with each glass he raised to his lips. His green eyes flicked from person to person, none of them sparking any appeal within the eldest Winchester brother. What he did see, unfortunately, was his moose of a younger brother sitting quite comfortably with someone on his lap.
"Get some, Sammy," he said to himself with a little laugh even though seeing his brother in such a position with some stranger scarred images into his already disturbed, dirty mind.
His attention turned back to the extremely quiet Heath Ledger beside him - which hilariously contrasted with the real Joker, in Dean's opinion - and watched with interest as his tongue peeked out through red lips, licking it across his cracked lipstick in a small swift sweep.
As Dean drank more and more, he couldn't help but to eventually rest his hand beside the other's on the bar they now faced, gently brushing his fingertips in an innocent flirt when he noticed the loosely sitting green wig upon his head.
Dean wondered what his hair was like under that wig. Maybe it was a sandy blond that made him look sixteen, or maybe it was a charcoal black! A cheeky grin appeared and he ran his fingers up the arm of the Joker, who tensed and stared out without any sort of acknowledgement.
He didn't push Dean's hand away either.
When his fingertips finally reached his shoulder, he left them there for a second to search for any sign of discomfort before he traced them up the other man's neck, watching in amusement as his hands fidgeted and his leg bounced in what seemed to be desperate impatience.
"I don't know about you, but my year's been pretty interesting so far," Dean exclaimed lightly, attempting to make small talk.
"How so?" Dean was surprised at his response. He assumed that the surprisingly awkward guy would have avoided any conversation, although buying him more drinks probably contributed to most of it. As soon as Dean laid eyes on the guy from across the room, he could just sense the internal screaming of "I don't want to be here!"
"I stole something."
"Whoa! What?" He honestly didn't seem very surprised, but instead of a deep look of concern, Dean saw, in his bright blue eyes, a seemingly secret urge for adventure.
His fingers grasped at the wig, tugging it off in one swift motion and sprinting away as he cried out, "Your wig!"
"Well, if ya really wanna know what's happened this year, I bumped into a little someone." Dean gave an indecent wink and waggled his eyebrows despite that he was referring to himself. Boy, his ego even aggravated himself at times. "Like seriously," he added, "the dude was really freaking short!"
He looked down, feeling the amusement of the coffee situation pour out of his mouth.
Ha, pour.
He laughed harder and he shook his head at the terrible pun, probably earning himself a weird confused look from the already lost fellow next to him. Shooting his eyes up proved him to be right.
The sad puppy beside him with squinted blue eyes and a tilted head was incredibly lost (and panting slightly from the wig chase). Dean couldn't help to admit that it did look kind of cute.
After a minute of silence, he finally decided to speak up. "I suppose my year has been rather eventful. I also "bumped into someone," as you say, but they managed to spill my coffee all over my artwork."
He had sounded more and more annoyed with each word that neared the end of his sentence. Dean's eyes were wide as saucer and the muscles in his body froze.
He couldn't believe it. It must have been a coincidence that the one guy he managed to crash into like the start of a cheesy cliché romance novel was sitting before him with his back against the wall dressed as the Joker to his Batman.
But what if it wasn't coincidence? "That was nice artwork too," he spoke suddenly and out of turn, surprising both himself and the Joker. However, he seemed to look absolutely outraged.
The response was simultaneous, both men staring at each other in shock as they pointed accusingly at the other.
"Wait, you're sweater boy?!"
"You're the coffee guy?!"