A/N : I got this ready faster than I thought. Now, I think this is the longest chapter yet, and it took me only day and a half to finish it. And I've already started the next chapter. Thank God for free weeks and too much time to do anything but write.
Where Do We Draw the Line
Chapter 9
This was definitely not what Dean had expected. He had thought something like witness protection, being paroled for some reason, having a stalker ex or even HIV, but not this. Dean couldn't think anything to say, he barely even registered Castiel staring at him with pleading eyes. He couldn't bring himself to even look at the other person in the room. A small voice in the back of Dean's mind laughed wickedly and told him he got what he deserved since allowed himself to cross a few lines because he wanted someone who wasn't his wife. What was he supposed to do now? Dean had promised he wouldn't leave Castiel no matter what, and even now he had no intention of breaking the promise, but he just didn't know what to do or say.
"Dean, could you please just say something," Castiel's pleading voice managed to catch Dean's attention through all the buzzing in his head.
"Something," Dean offered weakly, because he had no idea what else he could say. He could faintly see Castiel coming few steps closer to him.
"Just-. Give me a sec, okay?" Dean said quickly and Castiel halted immediately. Dean needed to be alone, the air of the room suddenly becoming too thick to breathe. He got up slowly and got out of the room without a word. As he passed Castiel Dean could see how broken he was over the situation. Soon Dean paced slowly circles in the living room and tried to come up with a solution to the situation. He wished he would've felt something, anything at all, to make everything easier, but he was trapped in a blank, emotionless lockdown.
Dean knew that this wasn't simply because of what Castiel did, but his own feelings for the younger man in the picture it was twice as hard for him to take. Dean took a deep breath and collected himself, deciding he would talk this over with Castiel and they would continue to be friends, because Castiel was an amazing person and Dean wasn't going to abandon him over something like this. With this firmly in his mind Dean returned to the kitchen and finally looked at Castiel, who had moved back to sitting on his chair. Castiel's head snapped up when he heard Dean enter the room, and Dean took in the completely forlorn look on his face and the slumped shoulders.
"You should've told me earlier," Dean said seriously and sat to the chair in front of Castiel.
"Would you have wanted to be around me if I had told you?" Castiel asked quietly without looking at Dean, who understood why Castiel had decided not to tell him the truth right away. Since they were being completely honest with each other at the moment, he didn't even think about lying.
"I don't know, probably not that much. But I still would've tried to understand you," Dean answered and Castiel's shoulders dropped a little. Dean wasn't sure what to say, only that he didn't want to see that hurt look on Castiel's face.
"Can I ask you why?" Dean queried hesitantly. He wasn't sure if it even was any of his business. Castiel finally raised his eyes to meet Dean's and nodded.
"I was in a bad situation and needed the money. I liked it and I was good at it so I never quit," Castiel told in a calm, detached manner. Dean couldn't help but raise a questioning eyebrow and Castiel offered him a sad smile.
"So, how does it work? I mean, um," Dean tried to come up with a good way of asking how Castiel actually found his hook ups, or what ever Castiel called them. Castiel seemed to understand what he meant though.
"I don't go and stand in a street corner or anything like that. I got my first client by accident. He introduced me to the next guy in line and then the next and then there were people coming to me. Now I'm rather well known in certain circles," he explained. Dean had no idea what Castiel meant with certain circles, so he asked for a clarification so Castiel would keep talking and he could keep his mouth shut.
"The rich and famous," Castiel said with dry humor. "I'm what you could call high-class," he added as an afterthought. Dean had an idea what it meant.
"You know, I'd really like to understand this, but…" Dean started and hoped Castiel would understand what he meant. He had a little trouble in understanding why someone would willingly sell themselves to other people to use.
"I know it's hard to get, but I don't have a problem with my job, so I won't quit it. I can work when I want to and I can live in a place like this even if I'd take a week off and go on a bender. I have a my rules and I've picked all my clients carefully. I'm not putting myself in any unnecessary danger here," Castiel tried to explain.
Dean studied Castiel's face, somehow expecting it to be different now that he had told Dean he was a prostitute. Nothing had changed, however. It was still just Castiel with his bright blue eyes and messy hair. Dean couldn't help but wish he would have seen Castiel as a different person. This made it just so much harder for him to try to get the point in this twisted conversation.
"Why'd you tell me this now?" Dean asked suddenly. He didn't want to sit in the pressing silence surrounding them. Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion and did that endearing head tilt of his before answering.
"Because I like you and you deserve it," he answered with an edge of desperation in his voice. Dean lowered his eyes, he could respect Castiel's decision, it would have been a lot easier for him to just keep his mouth shut and let Dean think what he wanted. Dean wanted to thank him for being honest, but the words wouldn't come, he couldn't say any of the things he really wanted, not now. He needed to take his time to calm down.
"I think I should go home now. Lisa's probably worried about me," Dean said distantly. Castiel nodded sadly and got up before Dean.
"I'll get you a ride to your car," he promised an hurried out of the kitchen before Dean had the chance to stand up properly. He followed Castiel very slowly to the living room, where Castiel was already hanging up the phone. He told Dean that a taxi would pick him up in fifteen minutes with too much lightness in his voice, but Dean still thanked him. Castiel nodded with a forced smile on his face and reached out to had Dean his car keys.
"I confiscated them form you last night. Thought you might want them back," he told Dean, who took the keys and quickly gathered the rest of his belongings. The silence around them was one of the most uncomfortable ones Dean had ever faced. Dean made a point not to look at Castiel as he checked that all of his possessions would be leaving with him. He turned around only when he heard Castiel clearing his throat, clearly trying to catch his attention. Castiel stepped to Dean and placed some money in his hand, saying it was for the fare.
"Don't be ridiculous. I can pay for it," Dean said and tried to offer the money back to Castiel, but he refused and stepped away from him. Dean had to stop himself from grabbing Castiel's arm to keep him standing close to him, this was the worst possible time for any desperate actions. Dean shifted his weight from one foot to another and tried to come up with something positive to say before he would leave.
"Don't hate me," Castiel suddenly implored and Dean's eyes snapped back to his face in surprise. Castiel looked alarmed, like Dean hating him would be something really painful and dangerous. Dean loathed himself when he felt a small bang of satisfaction with the thought that Castiel couldn't stand the idea of Dean not liking him even though the way Castiel looked at the moment made a big part of Dean want to pull him close and protect him from the cruel world.
"I don't hate you. I just need to think for a while. I'll call you later," Dean quickly assured soothingly. Castiel shook his head minutely seemingly not believing Dean.
"You should probably go, I could imagine your ride is waiting. It was nice knowing you," he dismissed Dean's assurances and turned away. Before Dean had any sense to stop himself he had marched to Castiel's side and grabbed his arm, swirling him around with a little bit too much force. Castiel gasped and stared at Dean with wide eyes while trying to pull away from the iron grip. Dean forced himself to calm down and loosened his hold on Castiel.
"Don't say that. I said I won't walk out on you and I meant it. I'll see you again, I promise. Cas you gotta believe me." Dean knew he was pleading, but couldn't bring himself to care. Castiel studied him closely for a long moment, before his expression softened ever so slightly and he nodded. Dean let out a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding and squeezed Castiel's arm for good measure before letting go of it.
"I should go. I'll get in touch with you later. I have a pissed off wife waiting for me so it might take a while before I can do that but I will," Dean reassured Castiel, who gave him the barest hint of a smile and nodded again. Dean backed out of the room, keeping his eyes on Castiel as long as he could. They bid their goodbyes a little too casually and Dean opened the front door, got to the elevator and hurried to the taxi waiting for him.
Castiel fell to the couch, shaking under the weight of too many emotions that were all in conflict with each other. He cursed his inability to learn that telling people you sell yourself for money isn't a good idea. The only two people in the span of six years who hadn't in one way or another left Castiel were Chuck and Pamela. And how many of those who had just faded away from his life had made promises just like Dean had? Too many for Castiel's taste. He had shut himself off from any deep social relationships years ago because of this. He just couldn't lie to those who he wanted to keep close.
Castiel reached for his phone and after a moments thought he dialed Pamela and buried his face to the pillow he had brought to Dean as he waited for her to pick up. Castiel could smell Dean in the pillow and it made his heart clench in his chest. This was not good.
"I thought you'd forgotten me completely," Pamela's teasing voice pulled Castiel back to the reality. He quickly assured his friend she has not been forgotten, that would be impossible. All teasing and amusement disappeared from Pamela's voice when she spoke again, asking what was wrong in a concerned tone.
"I think I screwed everything up again," Castiel told her, his voice shaking slightly and full of sadness. Pamela was silent for a moment and Castiel could almost see her frowning and tapping her toes angrily.
"I'll be right there," she promised finally and hung up on Castiel, who knew his friend well enough not to take it personally. He snuggled deeper into the cushions and pulled the crumbled comforter over his head. Castiel inhaled the subtle scent that was left of Dean. It was weird how the faint smell made Castiel feel completely depressed and sappy at the same time, and if he closed his eyes he could almost pretend Dean hadn't left yet.
There were a lot of things Castiel would've wanted to tell Dean. Like how he was the first person Castiel had actually fallen asleep with, or how happy he had been when he had had someone to take care for just one day, because Castiel never got to take care of anyone. And then there was of course the joy when Dean had thanked him for breakfast even if Castiel had seen clearly that Dean hadn't been hungry at all, and the closeness when they had watched the soap operas. Castiel had wanted Dean to know how much it meant to him to have these things, even if it was for a one day, but now he feared he would never get the chance to let Dean know any of this. Castiel closed his eyes tightly and did his best to fight the desolation within him.
Twenty minutes later the door bell rang and Castiel was forced to pull himself up from the warm couch. He dawdled to the door and barely got it open when Pamela stomped in with Chuck in her tow. Pamela dropped her bag to the floor with a heavy thud and pulled Castiel into a tight hug. Castiel welcomed it gladly and buried his face to her soft hair. Neither one of them payed attention to Chuck, who had closed the door behind them and was now fidgeting quietly. After a long moment Castiel dislocated himself from Pamela's grip and greeted Chuck with a wave of a hand before leading his friends to the living room.
"How long has it been since we were here? Over a year?" Pamela asked as she took in her surroundings. Castiel shrugged his shoulders dismissively and crawled back under the blanket. Chuck cleared his throat and raised the plastic bag in his hands.
"We brought you the cure for a broken heart," he proudly informed Castiel accompanied with Pamela's energetic nods. Castiel eyed his friends incredulously for a little while.
"My heart is not broken," he said after deeming that the duo wasn't kidding. His friends shared a knowing glance before Pamela took in a deep breath and sat down almost on top of Castiel.
"Sweetie, you've never acted like this. You liked the guy and now he's gone and you think there's nothing in the world that can make you feel any better. You think the world is a terrible place and nobody loves you but you're wrong. And if that jerk won't see how amazing you are then he doesn't deserve you," Pamela tried to alleviate. Chuck chimed in a word of agreement and wandered to the small guest room turned into an office only to return heaving a large, toffee colored bean bag chair with him.
"You still got that?" Pamela asked amusedly. She had bought the bean bag for Castiel years ago as a birthday present. Castiel nodded and felt slightly better as he saw the hidden pride and gratitude in Pamela's eyes. Chuck wrestled the bag to Castiel's side and slumped down on it with a feel of great satisfaction floating around him.
"So we brought you some chocolate, the obligatory Ben&Jerry's and slasher movies. We've got Halloween, Psycho, Child's Play, A Nightmare on Elm Street and Hell Night. I would've brought more but I didn't have the time to start going through all my movies," Pamela explained and Chuck quickly retrieved the plastic bag he had held earlier.
"Here is the chocolate and the ice cream. Pam has the movies. Now all you need to do is to imagine your boyfriends face on every dying person in the movie," Chuck told and Castiel lifted his head to glare at his friend.
"He wasn't my boyfriend. He was married for God's sake," Castiel retorted harshly. Pamela petted his hair lightheartedly and barked a laugh.
"Since when has that been a problem to you?" She teased and Castiel considered if kicking her off the couch would make him feel any better. Probably not, Pamela might kill him afterwards.
"Point taken. Though it would've been different, he wouldn't have paid me," Castiel replied instead of harming his friend.
"Did you have that doll movie with you?" He added and tried to peer into Pamela's bag. He received a nod and Pamela pulled the movie out, got up and put the disc carefully to the DVD-player. Chuck grabbed the remote and studied it curiously before setting the movie on pause until they would all settle down. Castiel received a large Ben&Jerry's pack from Chuck as Pamela hurried to get him a spoon. Castiel allowed the mild pampering only because he knew Chuck and Pamela only wanted what was good for him.
After Pamela shoved the spoon to his hand Castiel opened the cover of the chilly pack and took a large spoonful of the ice cream. He hoped he wouldn't eat the whole thing at once, because even though it was good and Castiel needed the comfort he doubted it would do very little good for him in a long run.
After they all had settled down Chuck started the movie and they fell into a comfortable silence. Castiel didn't pay much attention to the movie, his thought had wandered back to Dean at the first possible moment. He wondered what Dean was up to at the moment. Had he erased everything that could possibly remind him of Castiel, or was he in a similar distress as Castiel was? The latter opinion was somehow more preferable to Castiel, it meant Dean couldn't just throw Castiel out of his life.
Maybe, if Castiel was really lucky, Dean was thinking about calling to him and proofing his promise to be true. Maybe they would get together and laugh at this day. Maybe Dean would sleep over some other time too, and they could watch a movie and talk about stupid things and not have any secrets between them. That would've been amazing, Dean would sit where Castiel was at the moment and Castiel could study his freckles more closely, in a purely platonic manner of course, Dean was still married and Castiel did have some moral codes and lines he wouldn't cross in his personal life.
Chuck's terrified shriek snapped Castiel out of his musings abruptly. Pamela was laughing at him with tears in her eyes, and Castiel smiled widely at the familiarity of it all. The movie ended not long after that. Castiel had finished the whole pack of ice cream in his hands and he felt a little guilty about it, stuffing himself full of sweets wasn't something he usually did. Pamela got the disk out of the player while she bantered with Chuck, before she turned her attention to the unsuspecting lump on the couch. She shared a mischievous grin with Chuck before lunging at Castiel. Pamela did her best to tickle the flailing Castiel who let out an alarmed yelp and tried to get rid of the weight on top of him. Chuck was laughing at them, occasionally lending Pamela a hand by poking at Castiel's ribs. They didn't stop the torture until Castiel was begging for mercy, completely out of breath and properly flushed.
"And now you look like you'd just had couple rounds of wild sex," Pamela laughed and patted Castiel's cheek lovingly.
"Story of my life," Castiel responded as he tried to catch his breath. Chuck was snickering as he and Pamela shared a victorious high five, making Castiel roll his eyes.
"So tell us about your plans for next week. Will we go and throw rotten eggs at your ex-friend? Who'll you be seeing? Stuff like that," Pamela ordered good naturedly.
"And where you'll be this weekend?" Chuck chimed in. Castiel grinned wickedly at that.
"It's mostly short notice calls this week. I got Tuesday afternoon full though. And I'll be on Malibu from Thursday to Sunday drinking cocktails and spotting celebrities in the sun," he informed his friends smugly. Pamela slapped Castiel as Chuck settled on glaring at him jealously.
"So which one is it? Is it that artsy French guy? Or some big business guru? Or maybe even that British guy with questionable operations going on," Pamela questioned excitedly and grinned at Castiel, who once again pondered how disturbing Pamela's enthusiasm for his job was. Castiel liked this though, being able to talk about his various clients with his friends without worrying they would look at him down their noses. Of course Castiel never told anything crucial information about any of his clients to anyone, and it had lead to Pamela and Chuck spending countless minutes coming up with ways to identify every client without using their names.
"The French guy. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to face that Brit ever again, last time I saw him he had personally baked muffins. It was disturbing," Castiel told and shivered at the memory of the surprisingly delicious blueberry muffins.
"What? The big bad mobster can bake?" Chuck asked and quickly pulled out the small notepad and the pen he carried everywhere with him. He wrote something down with a great deal of concentration, ignoring Castiel's and Pamela's shared smirk. They knew Chuck was taking notes for his story.
"Apparently yes, and pretty well too. And I don't think he's a mobster, just a little shady. He won't tell and I won't ask, that's how it goes. It's something called professionalism," Castiel said and tried to nudge Pamela off of his lap without any success.
"I think your French lover wants to marry you. He treats you far too well for anything else," Pamela teased Castiel with a singsong voice. Castiel rolled his eyes even though he had an amused smile on his face.
"Nah. He said he likes it when he doesn't need to question my motives for being with him since it's clear I'm there for the money. He's probably my all time favorite client until the end of days," Castiel said with fondness.
"Because he bought you an apartment or because he drags you around the world in art shows and fashion events and buys you clothes all the time?" Chuck quizzed quickly.
"Both. And he's really great in bed. Though I'm not sure if I should be offended because I got this place. That jerk probably knew I'd never be able to charge him without a big discount ever again," came the contemplating reply that caused all three of them to laugh after changing grave looks.
Pamela and Chuck left soon after that, ordering Castiel to call them if there was anything he needed. After the door closed behind Chuck and Pamela Castiel was left with nothing to do but to dwell on his thoughts. He considered it a fortune that the sun had set couple hours ago, so he could just grab something to eat and go to bed. Castiel made his way to the kitchen and put the lights on, stopping when he saw two cups on the table. He swallowed down the lump threatening to rise up his throat and swiftly drowned the cold coffee down the sink and placed the cups on the counter.
Castiel did a very good job ignoring the cups as he got himself some yogurt and an orange even though he had lost his appetite somewhere between the front door and the fridge. Castiel wondered if he would have told Dean he was an escort if he would've known the reaction he got in return, most likely yes because in his eyes Dean deserved the truth. Castiel gritted his teeth as he remembered the few occasions that he had felt that way, and the questions and the looks he had received.
Couple of the people Castiel had told about his job had taken it well, but had slowly drifted away from his life. And then there were the few very ugly insults he had received that still hurt after all this time. Castiel had never called himself a prostitute or a hooker or anything like that, he didn't work on a street corner and just take what was given to him. It wasn't like he thought he was any better from those who did that kind of a thing, just that he worked on a different level with a different method and more upscale clientele.
Castiel's clients expected him to be able to keep up with long, intellectual conversations, master the etiquette, have a elegant and stylish wardrobe, and be sophisticated enough to be able to attend various social events if needed. And even though Castiel didn't think he was any better from those who stood by the road, waiting for some random person to pick them up, he did think his job was harder because of the expectations, and therefore he didn't fall to the exactly same category with them. Maybe if he had told this to Dean he wouldn't have left like he did.
Castiel climbed to his bed after brushing his teeth and locating both of his phones. He moaned miserably when he smelled the faint trace of something that was so clearly Dean, and decided he would need to change his sheets in the morning. It took him a long time to fall into a light slumber. He was in the twilight of sleep, still able to realize he wasn't asleep but not quite awake, and shutting off his thoughts was too much of an inconvenience at that moment.
Castiel remembered what it had felt like to have Dean wrapped around him like it was the most natural thing, that he belonged there, pressed tightly against Castiel until morning dawned and forced Castiel to carefully free himself from Dean's arms so that he wouldn't accidentally wake Dean up. Castiel opened his eyes slowly, cursing his brain and rolling to lie on his back and stared at the dark sealing. He wanted to sleep, he really did, but apparently his mind wasn't ready to do so.
The sudden beeb from his nightstand startled him fully awake with the realization that someone had just texted him. He looked at the nightstand for a long moment, before he quickly reached for his phone as he did his best to ignore his loudly beating heart and shaky hands. Just as he was about to grab the phone he received another message. Castiel raised a curious eyebrow and looked who it was that missed him at this hour. His heart stopped for a moment when he read the name on the screen. Dean. Castiel was barely able to open the first message with his shaking hands, let alone read it in the fear of final rejection, but somehow he managed to take in the three words on the screen.
Good night Cas
Castiel read the words few times before realizing what it said. A warm, silly grin spread over his face and he finally relaxed. He barely remembered the other message waiting to be read, but when it occurred to him he opened it rapidly.
I'm sorry about today. I know I'm an idiot… I kinda miss you.
Castiel would claim until the end of days that he did not shriek like a teenage girl. Dean didn't hate him, in fact Dean missed him. Castiel had a faint memory of this utterly enraptured state he was in. It had been years ago since he had last felt anything similar, and it had been with David. Even in his excitement Castiel decided that an answer would be a good idea, and he spent countless minutes trying to come up with something sane to send back to Dean. Castiel's heart beat so fast he was sure it would break free from his chest as he wrote a reply.
It's okay, I get it. Good night to you too. And I kinda miss you too.
It took Castiel longer than it probably should have to push the send button, but in the end he gathered the courage to do so. He settled back to the bed even though he knew he probably wouldn't fall asleep for a long while, and even when the oblivion finally claimed Castiel, he never let go of his phone or loose the joyful smile on his face.
A/N : Facts about this chapter :
1) The movies Pam brought are all taken from my vast move collection.
2) Watching slasher movies and eating Ben&Jerry's is a really effective cure for heart break. Me, my sisters and my best friend use it all the time.
3) I had to add some late night lovey-dovey texting here. It's my favourite kind and definitely one of the most difficult types in the vast sea of texting. If you've ever done this with someone you have a crush on you know why.