Dean glanced at his watch. It was nearly lunch time, and then he could get home. Thursdays were his favourite day, because although he loved his work he also loved having some time to relax, so getting to finish up at the yard at lunchtime was a good thing.
He slammed down the hood and wiped his hands off on his overalls. "Bobby, that's me done!" he announced as he dropped the keys back into the office.
"Good! Now get out of here!"
Dean grinned as he stepped out of his overalls. Bobby wasn't the tough nut he appeared to be. He flipped his phone open and called home as he walked over to his car.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Cas. That's me heading home now, okay?"
"You told me this morning that you would be finishing at this time and – I quote – 'pigs will fly before I leave so much as one minute later', so I am not entirely sure as to the purpose of this phone call."
Dean laughed. "I'll see you soon, Cas."
"Goodbye, Dean."
Castiel seemed happier, Dean had noticed. Well, maybe more settled was the word. He supposed the fact that he had given him a place to stay would have helped a little, but he figured the church had probably had a lot to do with it. When your life was going to shit, it helped to have something else to focus on. He turned the key in the ignition and drove home.
. * * * .
When Dean had found that the cupboards were practically empty that morning, he'd bitten the bullet and announced that they would go shopping. But as he'd been about to leave he realised that Cas was in charge of the cooking, so should also be in charge of the groceries. So he'd told him to write a list of anything he thought they'd need (thinking it would give Cas something positive to focus on, and distract him from whatever it was that he was dealing with) and the rest they could just make up as they went along.
Unfortunately, it seemed that Castiel was reluctant to spend Dean's – or rather Dean's brother's – money, so when he got home the list consisted of milk, bread, and eggs.
"Really? The cupboards are empty and you think all we need is milk, eggs and bread?" Dean grinned, internally screaming because a short list meant more time wandering around looking for things, and more time spent wandering around meant Dean got more irritable because he hated shopping.
Castiel shrugged. He hadn't wanted to seem greedy by writing out a full shopping list, especially when he wouldn't be the one paying for any of it, and he didn't know how long he'd be welcome to stay – especially once Dean found out the truth about him – but now he realised that perhaps he'd gone too far in the other direction by only writing down the bare essentials. "I didn't know what you liked," he said quietly. That was true enough.
"I guess you're right," Dean acknowledged. "Well, come on – let's go."
Dean drove around the parking lot three times as he waited for a woman to finish loading her bags into the trunk. It was right on the end, and far away from the shop door, so there was less chance of his baby being knocked about by idiot drivers.
At first Castiel tried to ask Dean what he liked, but when Dean had answered with burgers and beer Castiel exclaimed, "You can't live off of burgers and beer!" before apologising for telling Dean what he could and couldn't do, but insisting that he was only concerned for Dean's health. (He wasn't too impressed when Dean joked that he got his vegetables on pizza.) However, they quickly fell into a routine that involved Castiel seeing something and deciding what he could cook with it, and then asking Dean if it sounded like something he liked, or would like to try, eating, but the time they were halfway round the store the contents of the cart were probably five times what Dean would usually buy for himself.
"How much do we have to spend again?" Castiel asked for the fifth time.
"Enough, dude. Just get what you think we'll need to last us the month."
Castiel chewed on his bottom lip.
"You know, I don't even know what half this stuff is!" Dean joked, because Castiel was radiating tension you could cut with a knife. "When I said 'get whatever you want' I thought you might buy something I actually recognise – fruit and veg, or something. You know, healthy stuff to improve my diet."
"This will improve your diet. Anything is an improvement on the lack of one you already have," he said, before his eyes widened in shock at his cheek.
But Dean just laughed and slapped him on the back. "Well you're not wrong there."
Castiel tensed as Dean struck him, expecting pain that never came. "Besides," he added after a moment, wondering if perhaps Dean was a bad influence on him, "you don't need to know what it is. I'll cook it, you just need to eat it and tell me if you like it or not, so I know whether or not to make it again."
"Yeah, but I'm not going to ask you to become my little housewife, or anything," Dean frowned.
"Well, hardly," Castiel said. "For one, we are not married, and two, I'm a man."
"Cas, that's not— Never mind," Dean sighed. "Look, you don't have to take everything I say so literally all the time, okay?"
Castiel nodded absently. "I'm glad I'll get to cook for you. Well, for us." He turned to him, eyes wide and sincere. "I like having a way in which to repay your hospitality."
"If I'd let you carry on the way you were going I'd have felt guilty about using you as slave labour!" Dean told him jokingly. "It'll make a change from burgers, anyway – it's about the only goddamn thing I can cook."
"Would kindly to not use the Lord's name in such a way?" Castiel asked. "At least not in my presence."
"Fine, fine! I'll just stand here and keep my mouth shut, while you spend all my brother's money on a load of groceries, half of which I have no idea what they are, so you can cook us up a bloody banquet and I—"
"I'm sorry," Castiel interrupted him hurriedly. "I didn't mean to upset you."
Dean exhaled, mentally berating himself for getting all worked up and worrying Cas. "I'm not upset, Cas. I just don't like shopping."
Castiel looked in the cart. "I could put some of this back if you think your brother's money isn't going to be enough. I do not wish to impose on you."
"For the hundredth time, you're not imposing," Dean insisted, slinging an arm around Castiel's shoulders and hating the way his immediate reaction as to tense up at his touch. If Dean ever met Castiel's dad, Dean couldn't promise that fists wouldn't fly. "And for the fiftieth time, buy whatever you want to cook. I really don't want to have to come back here for at least— What the hell?" he asked, as Castiel suddenly dropped to the floor.
He looked up at Dean and pressed a finger desperately against his lips, motioning for him to stop staring at him. Dean shrugged, and pretended like he was suddenly very interested in – he looked at the shelf ticket – a butternut squash. After a moment he carelessly tossed back onto the pile (for Castiel had already added one to their shopping cart) and risked a glance down, to find Castiel was now peering over the trays of vegetables at a short blonde man who was selecting apples, with a basketful of chocolate and candy at his feet.
"Dude, what the hell?" he repeated in a whisper.
"My cousin," Castiel explained, gesturing in the direction of the man as he ducked back down again. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap...
"And we're avoiding him because?"
"I do not know what, if anything, my father has told him."
"Riiight," Dean said, as if that explained why Castiel was crawling on the floor like a two-year-old.
"I do not want to get involved in a confrontation here – it would be embarrassing, for there are rather a lot of people here."
"And playing a one-man game of hide and seek isn't embarrassing?" Dean pointed out with a smile.
Castiel seemed to suddenly realise that other people were looking at him strangely, and when he looked up at Dean again his fear was obvious.
"And I... I cannot bear to see the look of crushing disappointment on his face if he knows the reason my father threw me out," Castiel said. Which was near enough the truth – if his cousin confronted him it would be embarrassing, but there would then be no way to avoid Dean hearing everything and Castiel couldn't put into words how much he didn't want to end up on the street again.
Dean looked over at Castiel's cousin again, waiting until the man wasn't looking. "Ok, look, stand up and walk beside me – if he looks over it won't be obvious it's you, because he'll just see someone walking beside me."
Dean gripped Castiel's arm tightly and held him close as they continued up the shop and turned into the next aisle. Once they were out of sight of Castiel's cousin the other man visibly relaxed.
"Thank you, Dean. I am sorry if I embarrassed you back there."
Dean shrugged off his apology. "I've done a lot worse to embarrass myself, believe me. Just don't ask what."
Castiel smiled.
Eager to change the subject from his embarrassing misdemeanours, Dean motioned to the overflowing shopping cart. "Dude, we've barely been here twenty minutes, and I swear you've bought half the shop!" he laughed.
"Well there are two of us now, Dean." Castiel cast a sideways glance at him. "For the time being, at least."
"Okay, would you stop with that!" Dean exclaimed, a little too loudly.
Castiel flinched at the harshness in Dean's tone.
Dean placed a reassuring hand on Castiel's arm, and when the man didn't tense at his touch he spoke again. But this time he spoke more softly, in the voice he used to use when he was a kid and Sam was too scared to go back to sleep after having been woken by a nightmare. "I said you could stay as long as you wanted, Cas, and I meant it."
"Thank you. I know I've done nothing to deserve it, but I cannot adequately put into words how grateful I am for your kindness."
Dean scoffed and looked at his feet as he shuffled from side to side awkwardly, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. Every time Castiel thanked him he just felt embarrassed, but he didn't doubt that Castiel would soon see him for the fuck up he really was.
"Well, if you can cook half as well as it looks like you can, I may never let you leave!" he laughed.
. * * * .
The rest of the shopping trip was uneventful – unless you include the small child who ran around pulling things from the shelves and throwing them on the floor being chased by a rather harassed mother putting everything back on the shelves – and Dean was more than happy to let Castiel unpack the shopping once they got back while he switched on the TV to see how the football was going. It was ten minutes before Castiel reappeared, and dropped the latest edition of Busty Asian Beauties in front of him, and Dean had the good grace to look abashed. Castiel sat down quietly beside him, not saying a word, but Dean knew he was itching to say something. After several moments of trying to concentrate on the game while seeing Castiel fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, Dean hit the mute button on the remote and turned to him.
"Spit it out, man, before you choke on it."
"Spit— What?"
"Whatever it is you're too damn polite to say."
Castiel's gaze dropped to the floor. "I would not presume to—"
"Spit. It. Out."
"Very well." Castiel squirmed uncomfortably. "I find those sorts of magazines to be highly disrespectful to women, and it pains me to see a good man such as yourself objectifying them in such a sexual manner."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Dude, it's a porn mag. What do you expect?" He felt uncomfortable that Castiel had called him a good man, because Cas didn't know him at all.
"Still, I am uncomfortable with the idea of women being treated as objects for sexual gratification rather than as people."
"Okay, I see women as people," Dean started.
"How do you feel about women lusting after pictures of attractive, well-built men?" Castiel asked.
"I... Well... I mean..." Dean spluttered, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. He narrowed his eyes. "How attractive?"
"Exactly. The women in these magazines do not accurately portray the vast majority of women in society, leaving them with unreachable dreams of conforming to the stereotypical male fantasy of what is 'sexy'."
Dean's tried to process what Castiel had just said, but he got distracted by Castiel's obvious discomfort and awkwardness as he said sexy – with air quotes. It was kind of hilarious.
"Look," he said eventually, "I know that most women don't look like that in real life – but at the end of the day, I just want something I can jerk off to."
Castiel closed his eyes and exhaled softly. His point had flown completely over the other man's head. Dean had said his brother was a lawyer, yes? So that meant Sam was intelligent, then – perhaps he'd been given Dean's share of the brains, and Dean had got the looks. But as soon as that notion entered his head, however, he berated himself for thinking such a thing.
"Come on – tell me you've never jerked off over a picture of a hot, half-naked chick!" Dean pressed him with a grin.
"I can honestly say that I have not."
"What – never?"
"Never."
"Dude..." Dean shook his head. "You don't know what you're missing."
Dean's attention flicked back to the television for a minute, just in time to see the wrong team score. He scowled and punched the arm of the sofa in frustration.
Castiel tried a different approach. "Dean. These women have mothers. Some, children – how would you feel if some stranger was 'jerking off' to a picture of your mother?"
Dean's face hardened, and fist slammed unto the table in front of him as he leaned for ward to Castiel.
Castiel recoiled, half expecting Dean to lash out at him; however he just glared at him. "I'm sorry," he apologised quickly. "That was inappropriate."
"Damn straight that was inappropriate," Dean growled. "Let's get one thing straight – you don't ever talk about my mother – ever, at all, period. You got that?"
Castiel nodded. "I'm sorry, Dean."
Dean rubbed a hand across his face, and cast a glance up to the picture lying on the mantle. He'd lost count of the number of different scenarios that he'd played in his mind, despite the fact he'd only been four at the time he still felt that he could have – should have – done something more. He blinked back tears and looked back at Castiel, who was eyeing him warily, and Dean could have kicked himself. He leaned across and placed a reassuring hand on Castiel's arm, hating himself for the way he tensed at his touch.
"Well as long as we're clear on that," he said, his tone softer.
Castiel nodded.
"Look, I'm not saying it's perfect," he said, motioning to the magazine, "but it's better than nothing."
"But it would be better with someone else involved, yes?"
"Oh, yeah..." Dean grinned to himself for a moment, thinking about the girl he'd had in the back seat of his car the night he met Castiel. Then he shook his head. "Although it has to be said, it's not always great. Sometimes you can feel kind of... empty, after – you know?"
Castiel didn't. Although he had been warned about the 'sins of the flesh' and taught that such practices were wrong and sinful, Castiel had indulged in the act of self-satisfaction; however sex had never been something he'd had the occasion, or the inclination, to indulge in. "Perhaps it would be more satisfying if you cared for the woman in question," he suggested quietly.
"Probably," Dean said, and shrugged. "But I'm not really the settling down type."
"You don't want a family?" Castiel sounded surprised. He thought Dean would make a good father – he was kind, and certainly seemed to have a lot of love to give if the way he had taken Castiel in was anything to go by,
"Well, yeah, I guess," Dean said. "But I know I'm not cut out for family life – I wouldn't wish me on anyone. I know how fucked-up I am inside, and it's not a pretty picture."
"You don't seem fucked-up to me."
Dean scoffed. "You don't know me, Cas. Even my own brother got so sick of my shit he left."
He turned back to the television and turned the volume up – a sign that their conversation was over – so Castiel left him and started on dinner.
. * * * .
Dean came through to the kitchen after the game had ended. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier," he said.
"It's my fault," Castiel insisted. "I shouldn't have pried."
"I just don't like talking about my family, okay? I want you to stay, and I don't want you to feel like you're an inconvenience or that I don't like having you here because I do. It's just..." Dean sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that the topic of my family is not up for discussion. Anything else, you can ask me about."
Castiel nodded. "Once again I'm sorry if I upset you."
"Forget it. It didn't happen." Dean said with a reassuring smile. Castiel was always so quick to apologise, and Dean wondered if that was to escape his dad's fists. "Dude, I'm not your dad," he added softly, without really thinking.
Castiel nodded, and then smiled.
Before Castiel could put up any kind of defensive wall and shut down he changed the subject. "So what smells so good, anyway?"
"Chicken and butternut squash curry," Castiel informed him as he loaded two platefuls and carried them to the table.
"Awesome!" Dean liked a good curry, but he was a bit wary of the butternut squash. He'd never had it, and really didn't want to disappoint Cas over his first cooking attempt for the two of them. He frowned and tentatively tried a mouthful. His eyes widened at the heat and he hurried to the fridge to grab a cold beer.
"Thanks!" he coughed after he downed several gulps of beer. "Wow. I didn't expect it to pack quite a punch. That's really good."
"I think I may have gone a bit overboard," Castiel said, face flushed red as he reached for his glass of milk.
"Well, maybe just a little bit," Dean agreed. "I'd like to still have my taste buds when I'm finished!" He laughed, but it took Cas a moment to join in. "Say, man – you've been here a week, now."
"Yes," Castiel agreed quietly, wondering if Dean was going somewhere with it.
"We should go out this weekend. Together. I know a few places, we can just relax and have fun. What do you say?"
"I'd like that," Castiel said automatically, and then realised that it was true. He wanted to get out of the apartment, but didn't really know his way around the area all that well, and it would be nice to go out with Dean.
