They talked until well past 2:00 am.
They talked about everything, about what they wanted to be when they grew up (Dean wanted to be a firefighter, Cas a veterinarian or a snowflake, and Dean laughed about that for a solid five minutes), they talked about their dreams for the future, their proudest moments (Cas opening the restaurant, Dean holding Ben for the first time), they talked about politics, and music, classic cars, favorite foods, most embarrassing moments, childhood heroes, TV shows, movies, stupid people, annoying things their siblings did, literally anything they could think of.
Dean shared his relationship history, the long string of worthless one nights, and how except for Lisa and Jo, every serious relationship he's ever had crashed and burned, Lisa and Jo just fading into friendship. He told Cas how scared he was of where things were going now, that he was afraid to open up and fall again. How confusing it was to be so attracted to a guy instead of a girl.
Cas in turn shared what happened in LA, even telling Dean the celeb's name, and Dean agreed the guy was hot and was worth making a pass at. He told him how much he missed his parents, how guilty he felt that he hadn't spent more time with them. They talked about how short time really is in the long run, which is why, Dean told him, that he was willing to take this chance, because time was just so damn short, and if they had a chance to be happy, they should just go for it.
Dean learned more about Cas in five hours than he did about his ex-fiancé in the almost three years they were together.
He yawned so hard at one point, he thought he might break his jaw, but he wasn't getting off the phone. They didn't do anything naughty, they just talked, and it was one of the best nights Dean could remember having. They finally disconnected when Cas literally fell asleep mid-sentence.
He's sitting at Ben's baseball game now, at 1:00 pm on a sunny Sunday afternoon, Lisa sitting next to him, dark hair tied up in a ponytail, brown eyes sparkling, sharing her popcorn with Dean while Vic takes pictures. Ben's on fire, he's pitched a six inning no-hitter, and his team is up by seven runs. He's only in tenth grade, but Dean knows there are already college scouts looking at his boy, and he couldn't be prouder.
"He's amazing, isn't he? The pitcher?" The guy next to him says, and Dean beams.
"That's my son," he says proudly, and the guy congratulates him with a smile. Lisa grins at him and he grins back.
Ben throws another pitch, a low fast ball, and the kid at the plate strikes out. That's the third strike, and Ben's team heads for the bench, the other team taking the field.
"So," Lisa begins, "Ben called Sam for Calculus help last night."
"That's good, Sam's smart with that stuff."
"Mm-hmm. Then Sam wanted to talk to me. About you. Any idea what he wanted to tell me?"
Dean drops his head into his hands and mumbles, "I can only imagine."
"Rumor has it the legendary Dean Winchester is off the market." She giggles. Victor leans over her shoulder.
"Come on, Leese, leave the guy alone."
"I just want to know if it's true, because I was going to set you up with somebody."
"It's true. Can we drop it?"
"Sure, for now. But you'll want to tell Ben that you're dating again. I don't want him surprised."
"Right…that should be interesting."
"Why? Because it's a guy this time?"
Dean groaned. "Does Sam get off on spreading my personal life around? I'm going to kill him, I swear."
Lisa patted his shoulder. "That's family for you. However, I can report that you've been grinning like an idiot most of the day, and you don't seem all that put out. Dean, we're your family, and we all just want to see you happy. No one's out to get you, or embarrass you…"
Vic coughed "bullshit" under his breath.
"…well not really! I mean, we're all just really happy for you. Just, you need to tell Ben. Ok?"
Dean shakes his head. "Yeah, ok, I'll take care of it. Now can we just watch the game? Please?"
"Yeah, I'll back off." Lisa turns her attention back to her popcorn, and for a little while at least, Dean watches the game in peace.
"So what's he like?"
Castiel spends his morning sleeping in, dreams of a green-eyed man keeping him company.
When he finally does get up, he takes his time in the shower, then eats a simple meal of cheese, grapes and crusty French bread. He flips through the Times for a while, then watches a bit of CNN.
He's thinking about Dean the entire time. Logging on to his computer, he makes sure the item he ordered will be at Dean's business tomorrow, clicking on the Winchester and Sons Ltd. website to verify the address for the hundredth time.
Scanning through the pictures on the site, he's impressed by the work the shop turns out, and he's already decided his first classic car will come from them. There's pictures of the staff on the site; Ash, the webmaster and graphic designer, a skinny guy in a plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off, an unbelievable mullet on his head; Garth, the shop's paint guy and master of old school pin striping, another skinny young guy in plaid, spiky blonde hair messy and all over the place; Benny, the shop foreman, a good looking man with bright blue eyes, wearing an old fashioned black sailor's hat; Jo, the office manager, a gorgeous blonde with deep brown eyes; and of course, Dean himself, green-eyed, freckled and beautiful.
There's also a picture and dedication page for John Winchester, a ruggedly handsome man with a salt and pepper scruff and kind eyes. From what Castiel has seen of Dean's family pictures, Sam looks more like his dad than Dean does, but he can definitely see a resemblance. Castiel spends maybe an hour or so trolling the website, admiring the before and after pictures of many different cars.
A knock at the door makes Castiel jump slightly, and he looks at the time, surprised that it's after three. Gabe's on the other side of the door, grin on his face, lollipop hanging out of the side of his mouth.
"What's shakin', lil bro?" he asks, leaning against the doorway. "How was your weekend?"
Castiel holds the door to let him in, a smile on his own face. Gabriel is more than just his brother, he's one of his dearest friends, and he's always glad to see him.
"I had a good weekend. How was yours?"
"Fine, although we were busy as hell at the restaurant last night. All the reservations were filled, and we still had a line out the door. Cray-zay! Probably be just as bad tonight, so I can't stay long. Taking Kali to a Yanks game tomorrow. So damn glad we're closed on Mondays." He plops into Castiel's cream linen sofa, sprawling out like he owns the place, and like he's exhausted from the long shift when it hasn't even begun yet.
"I knew right from the beginning that we should be closed at least one day a week. Monday made the best sense."
"Well it was a good choice. So, tell me about "Land O' Rednecks". Was Kansas as bad as you thought it would be?"
Castiel smiles, remember just how good Kansas had turned out to be. "It was fine. The man that won was actually fairly knowledgeable, had a nice kitchen, there was even a decent grocery store. It was nice, actually."
Gabe's studying him closely, looking for clues.
"Nice, huh? A guy won? Tell me about him." Gabe waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Was he good looking?"
"Very. And we have a lot in common." He grins again, figures Gabriel might as well be the first to know. "His name is Dean, and we're seeing each other."
"Christ! You work damn fast there, lil bro. He must be something special."
Castiel gets his laptop off the dining room table and brings it over to Gabe, and shows him the screen where Dean's face is still displayed on the Winchester and Sons website. Gabe studies the picture for a minute, then looks up at Castiel, amusement on his face.
"He is something special, Gabe, you have no idea."
Monday finds Dean head and shoulders in a '55 Chevy Bel Air, fighting with one lousy bolt that's rusted solid to the block and holding up the whole operation.
Benny's liberally spraying the whole thing down with WD-40, and Dean tries again to wrench the damn thing free.
"We gonna have'ta drill it out, brotha. She ain't movin'."
Dean sighs, and runs his hand through his hair, frustrated as hell. The car's for an extremely demanding client, who pays well, but expects things done at a certain time. He takes most of the cars Winchester and Sons builds for him to the Barrett Jackson auctions, and it's been a huge boost for the shop.
Crowley's a tough customer, and Dean doesn't want to let any customer down, but Crowley's special, and this car has to be perfect.
"Dammit. Alright, see what you can do with it. I've got to get that engine out today so Garth can get it into paint. It's got to be mostly done by mid-week, 'cause Crowley's coming for it Monday."
"I'll get it out of there, don't you worry none." Benny bends back over the engine, and Dean heads for the office, wiping his hands on a rag as he goes. There's a stack of messages on his desk from Friday, when he took off to do the show with Cas, several of which are from new clients. Dean's backlogged about four months now, and he's got quite the waiting list. It's amazing to him that people like the shop's work enough to wait that long to get a car done. It's part of why he puts up with Crowley's demands. The man has brought in a ton of business for them this year.
He's going to have to hire more people. They just bought the building next door so they can expand. Business is booming, and Dean's damn grateful. He's pretty sure Ben's going to get some kind of scholarship for college, because not only is he a star on the ball field, he's a damn good student as well. Lisa wouldn't have it any other way, but still, Dean wants to have the money available if he needs it, and when Adam graduates in a few years, he wants to make a repeat of the Hawaii trip, just Adam, Sam and him.
Jo comes in, arms full of packages and drops an envelope on his desk. She grins and winks.
"Hear you had a pretty good weekend."
"What the fuck? There is no privacy in this damn family. Friggin' Sam."
"Actually, no, Adam called me." She giggles. "But you're right. There's no privacy. Also, I'm happy for you." A sincere smile and she's on her way, and Dean picks up the envelope.
It's from Cas.
Castiel is on his way to the studio to film an episode of A Little Taste of Heaven when his phone rings, "World's Sexiest Mechanic" flashing in the caller ID screen.
"Hello, Dean," he says with a smile.
"Plane tickets to New York for this coming weekend? Not very subtle there, Chef."
"Subtlety is for other people. I prefer the direct approach."
"I see that. Gotta tell you though, Cas, I seriously hate flying."
"I know, I do remember you telling me that. But it's first class, so you'll be comfortable, and I hired a car to pick you up, so you won't have to worry about the Impala sitting in Kansas City all weekend. I thought you could come up, have dinner at the restaurant, maybe do some other stuff. If it makes you that uncomfortable…"
"No, man, for you, I'll do it. First class, huh? They'll have alcohol. I'll be ok. It's not as long as flying to Hawaii and I survived that."
Castiel smiles, glad that his gift was well received. He simply can't wait for this weekend.
"So should I bring a suit or something? Your restaurant's pretty fancy, right?"
"I'd love to see you in a suit, so yes. But bring jeans and comfortable stuff for the other days."
"Please tell me you're not going to drag me to see Wicked or something like that?"
"Would you like me too?"
"Um. I don't know."
"'Cause I could get tickets."
"Might be kind of cool," Dean mumbles.
"Or we could do something else. We could spend the whole weekend in bed if we wanted to."
Dean coughs, and Castiel grins. Dean's so deliciously easy to knock off balance he could make a game of it.
"Well, there's that too," he says huskily.
"Have you ever been to New York before?"
"One time, like nine months ago. I um…I um, saved up, and um…wenttoyourrestaurant." He says it so quickly, Castiel almost misses it.
"You've been to the restaurant before?"
"Yeah, it was no big deal, it was the same weekend as that stupid Super Chevy show, and I left a few days early and went up to New York before I went to Carlisle and had dinner but you weren't working and I was really disappointed, but damn, the food was amazing. Best dinner I've ever had."
"You've been following my show a long time then?"
"Yeah, actually, since the first episode. I don't know if you saw them when you were here, but I have all of your cookbooks." He sounds so shy when he says it, and Castiel can practically hear him blushing. There's a noise, and some raised voices in the background, then Dean's back on the line. "Hey, Cas, I gotta go, one of my clients is here for a pickup. Talk to you later tonight?"
"I'll be home after seven. Call anytime. I miss you."
"Miss you too, Cas. See you soon." Dean disconnects the call, and Castiel smiles, staring off into the distance, thinking about the weekend, and what he could do with their time. He wonders if Dean was serious about not wanting to see Wicked, but so far, this mechanic has surprised the hell out of him, liking movies like Sabrina, and he thinks he'll risk it. He calls Sarah, and she agrees to get tickets for Saturday afternoon.
He's a bundle of smiles by the time he arrives at the studio, and Charlie grins knowingly at him.
Even Balthazar's surly mood can't touch him.
Dean's exhausted by the time he gets home that night.
It was a long, long day. Crowley's Chevy is going to give him nightmares. If it wasn't for the almost limitless budget the man provides, he'd have been tempted to turn the project away. Benny and Dean had stayed until well past eight, trying to completely pull the drive train so Garth could get the car into paint. It had been unbelievably frustrating, that car wouldn't budge an inch, and they both had the bruised knuckles to show for it.
Dean finally said enough, and sent Benny home to Andrea. He'd stayed an hour beyond that before he finally called it quits. It's nine now, and he still has a stack of employment applications an inch thick in his laptop bag, and he desperately needs dinner and a shower, in that order, but he doesn't think he'll be able to stay on his feet long enough to accomplish either.
In the end, he simply cleans up as much as possible and passes out on the couch.
He never did get around to calling Cas back.
The phone rings around 10:30, and Dean actually falls off the couch as he scrambles for it. He smacks his head on the coffee table and groans as he answers the phone, groggily mumbling a hello.
"Hello, Dean. Are you ok?"
"Cas?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"I think I was asleep. Had a rough day. I'm sorry I didn't call you." Dean's stomach growls. "Christ, I'm hungry. Passed out on the couch without dinner. Haven't eaten since noon."
"That's unfortunate. You should eat, I can let you go."
"No, no, don't go." Dean pulls himself to his feet, and pads barefoot out to his kitchen. "I'll find something to chomp on, and you can tell me about your day. Hopefully it was better than mine." Dean opens the fridge, and stands there and stares blankly for a moment. He pulls out a Chinese food container, sniffs it, makes a face, and tosses it in the garbage.
"So what are you eating?"
"I don't know. I got a whole lot of ingredients and nothing prepared."
"Got any bread?"
Dean looks around and finds a loaf of Italian bread left over from the spaghetti dinner he cooked Ben the day before. "Yeah, soft Italian bread."
"Perfect. Cheese?"
"Cheddar, mozzarella, and some goat cheese."
"Balsamic, basil and tomato?"
"Yup. Which cheese?"
"Goat."
"Ok." Dean gathered all the items and dropped them on the counter.
"Turn your broiler on then cut yourself a couple of one inch thick slices of bread."
"You teaching me to cook over the phone Chef?"
"Just helping you out. Can't stand the thought of you going to bed hungry."
"Aw, that's sweet," Dean grins into the phone.
"Shut it, Winchester."
Dean outright laughs at that.
"Slice the goat cheese into medallions, then put them on the bread. Drizzle them with olive oil and cracked pepper and stick 'em under the broiler until the cheese melts."
"Ok, I can do this." Dean puts the bread on a tray and sticks it under the broiler.
"Keep a close eye on it, don't let it burn. Burned is not good eats."
"Ha! Ok, thanks for the advice, Alton."
"You'd like him. He's a trip."
Dean chuckles. "Alrighty then Mr. Famous." He pulls the bread out. "That didn't take long. Now what?"
"Chop up the basil and tomato and stick it on there, drizzle it with balsamic, get some wine and eat up."
"Ok. I'm out of wine. Beer ok?"
"How can you be out of wine?"
"Um, my celebrity boyfriend and I drank it all." Dean rolls that word around in his mouth. He didn't mean to say it, but it felt right.
"Boyfriend, huh?"
"Yeah, boyfriend."
"Hmm, I like that. Well, then, my mechanic boyfriend should go get himself a beer then. And then eat your food while it's still warm. I'm going to let you go. Eat, get a shower, and a good night's sleep. Call you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'd like that. I miss you, Cas."
"I miss you too, Dean. Friday's going to be here very soon."
"Can't wait. See you then."
"Goodnight, Dean."
"Goodnight, Cas." Dean disconnects the call, and takes his plate and a beer up to his room. The bread is delicious, the beer comforting. Dean finishes, and takes a quick shower, then curls up in his bed.
His phone chimes, and he picks it up.
Sweet dreams.
You too, he texts back, and sets the phone down on his nightstand.
Dean falls asleep with a smile on his face.