You have monopolized the oxygen

"This is 'Bradberry's Playhouse,'" Dean announced, holding out an arm with a flourish. In the window was a giant figurine of Wonder Woman dipping Cat Woman as if about to kiss her, along with displays of playing cards, comics, books, and other novelties.

"What is this place?"

"This is Charlie's shop. I told you I need to return some stuff. And I can't wait for you two to meet."

Dean opened the door for Castiel again, and he couldn't help but bow his head a little and blush in appreciation. He wasn't used to being made to feel special like someone wanted to do nice things for him. He'd only known Dean a day and already this guy had shown him more kindness than he'd seen from his own family in years.

"Dean!" a petit redheaded beauty squealed and came running out from behind the counter, but before she could reach him, Garth cut her off, jumping up to give her a giant hug. "Garth! My other best guy! How are you?" She pulled him off her and leaned down to hug his big fluffy back before scratching his side, making his back leg twitch.

"Hey, baby!" Charlie called out to Dean, making Castiel's heart stutter. Oh. Was this Dean's girlfriend? She seemed a little young…

Dean laughed, shoved the dog out of the way, and scooped her up into a giant hug. "Hey there!" he said into her hair, twirling her a little.

"You never come to movie night anymore. You spend far too much time alone up in that little cabin." Carlie punched Dean in the arm as soon as she released him and then turned her bubbling energy on Castiel.

"So who is tall, dark, and handsome?" she asked, making a weird facial expression that Cas suspected was supposed to be sultry but it simply didn't land, drawing something between a laugh and a cackle from Dean.

"Charlie, this is Cas. Cas, Charlie." Dean introduced with a grin.

"Castiel Novak." He held out his hand, but Charlie immediately reached up both arms and pulled him down into a hug.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you, Cas. Finally, someone is out there to keep an eye on my guy, so he's not alone with the wolves and bears."

Cas's eyebrows shot up and he looked at Dean.

"There are no wolves or bears, but I have a riffle just in case. Don't let Charlie spook you."

Charlie shot her best who me? face and then grabbed the bag Dean was holding out of his hands. "What'd you bring me? Presents?" She walked behind the counter and opened the bag with a frown. "This is all my stuff. Are you returning my stuff to me, Winchester? Are you?" She placed a hand over her heart. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Dean laughed again and leaned over the counter to chat with her.

Castiel wandered away, not sure how to contribute to the conversation or sure he wanted to. He checked out the isles of comics and books while Garth followed close behind, apparently deciding Castiel's swirling thoughts were more interesting than Charlie and Dean.

She had called him baby, and her guy, and joked about breaking up. Were they dating? He didn't pick up on a sexual vibe between them, but Castiel knew that his intuition wasn't exactly perceptive when it came to this kind of thing. He'd thought Dean had been interested in him, and he knew he should feel relief that the temptation he'd been fighting to avoid had been all in his head. But he wasn't. He was disappointed. Bordering on devastated.

He picked through the collection of Science Fiction books, delighted by the collection of classics and new works. Outside of religion, Science Fiction was his favorite topic of study. He'd gotten in trouble more than a few times for pointing out the similarities between the two. He picked out one he hadn't read yet, but heard a lot about and wandered back out to where Dean was still chatting with Charlie.

"So, Cas, what do you say? You in?" Charlie asked with a gleeful smile.

"What? I just… I found a book." He held it up as an explanation, causing a round of Dean's friendly laughter.

"Dude, don't ever change," he put that big warm hand back on Castiel's shoulder.

"Three Body Problem? Good choice. The whole series is excellent," Charlie didn't move to ring him up and instead just looked to Dean. "So tomorrow night, you'll be there, right?"

"I don't know Char," Dean ran a hand through his hair and then scratched at his beard.

"Cas, back me up. Dean is turning into a reclusive curmudgeon and he's not even 30 yet."

"You're not?" Castiel looked at him with eyebrows raised.

"The beard makes me look older. Maybe it's time to shave it off again."

"You think?" Charlie teased.

Dean shrugged and scratched his chin again, "And I'm not a curmudgeon. I'm fun."

"Yeah, but not like fun fun. Come tomorrow, pleeeease?"

Dean sighed and looked at Castiel, "So tomorrow is Saturday and it's weekly movie night at Charlie's house and a bunch of people will be there-"

"-Including Sam and Eileen!" Charlie chimed in.

"Yeah, including my brother and his wife. It's usually fun. We order dinner and watch a movie or two and hang out."

"You should go," Cas said with a smile. "I meet with Michael tomorrow afternoon anyway, so I can handle being home alone while you go out. You don't have to babysit me."

"I…" Dean scrunched up his nose. "I know that. I meant you should come if you want, meet some more people in town. But if you don't think you'll be up for it after work, we don't have to…"

"Christ, you two are impossible. Would you both please come to my shitty little house tomorrow night and hang out with a bunch of our friends?"

Castiel nodded with a small smile, "that sounds like it would be nice. Yes, thank you."

"Well, I guess if blue eyes here is down, I'm in."

"Excellent, no excuses. And Dean, bring whatever you want to drink. No one else drinks that nasty whiskey you like."

Castiel raises an eyebrow at Dean, imagining how the man would taste with smokey whiskey on his tongue. Father, help me.

Castiel coughs and looks away. "What do I owe you?" he asked, holding up the book.

"You get this old fart to my house tomorrow night and we'll call it even."

Garth stayed with Charlie lying behind the register taking up the whole space, while they head back out to get some food. The sun had set and the streetlights give the whole town a wholesome feeling. It's a welcoming place, where people smile, and the shops were open a little later than other small towns, giving it a bustling feeling.

"This is a charming little town," Castiel commented, thinking how much like a date this felt.

"I love it here. It's the only home I've ever known."

"Where did you live before here?" Castiel asked only to catch Dean's frown out of the corner of his eye.

"I was born in Kansas, a little town called Lebanon. Sammy too. We lived there till my mom died. Then my dad just couldn't stand it anymore. We mostly lived on the road, staying in motels while my Dad worked odd jobs he could find until he got bored or banned from all the local bars, and we moved on." Dean shrugged.

Castiel could feel more to the story behind the man's now hard eyes and the way his posture stiffened, but he didn't ask. It wasn't his place. If Dean wanted to share more, he would.

"How about you?" Dean asked. "I realized I never asked where you're from."

"Oh, I grew up in Massachusetts,"

"Like Boston?" Dean took Castiel's elbow and led him across a crosswalk and down a side street.

"No, no. Western Massachusetts up near Vermont. It was a pretty isolated area."

"What town?"

"No town, it was just the people who lived there and the church. Nothing incorporated. My family had a PO Box two towns over and my brothers and sister and I were all homeschooled."

"Jesus, it sounds like you grew up on some kind of fundamentalist compound."

Castiel shrugged.

"Oh my god. Did you?" Dean stopped walking and turned to face him. "I didn't mean to be, like, an asshole about it."

"No, it's fine. They are who they are. I couldn't live there forever, though, so college and then seminary school was the best way for me to move on with life."

"And your family is okay with that?"

"Yeah, mostly." Cas gave a half-hearted shrug, "I'm still working for the church. Even if they wish I was working for theirs, they accept it. But the assumption is that when I finish school, I'll go back, help establish a more legitimate church, but I…" he shook his head.

"What?" Dean asked, his voice soft.

"No, I don't want to get into it. Family's not an easy topic for me."

"I get it. Sammy is easy. Bobby and Jody are easy, but the rest of it. Sometimes it hurts too much to think about it for very long."

Castiel nodded and then noticed they'd stopped walking.

"Are you hungry?" Dean asked, and when Castiel nodded, he opened the door for him again. Chivalry was apparently not dead.

The bar sign said Cioppino's Mediterranean Grill, and from the way Dean waived to the bartender and slid into one of the empty booths, it clear this wasn't his first time here.

When the waitress came up, she didn't even give them menus, just leaned her hip against the table and cocked an eyebrow at Dean.

"Hi, Meg, how ya doin'?" Dean asked with only half the wattage of his usual smile.

"I'm fabulous. Everything's coming up roses for old Meg. Want your usual?"

"Nah, I'll have the bolognese and a whiskey."

"Fancy. So who's the dreamboat?" the waitress turned her attention to Castiel, and he was taken with her sweet round face with sharp, wicked eyes.

"My name is Castiel." He held out his hand, which Meg shook and then licked the back of.

"Mmm, I'm Meg. Let me know if you ever are in the mood for pizza. We don't usually do it, but for you, I'll deliver."

"Cut it out," Dean barked, his command clear without him raising his voice. The confidence and power of it sent goosebumps across Castiel's flesh.

"Party pooper. Okay, hot-wings, what are you having."

Castiel just stared, still in shock from the sound of Dean's voice and totally unprepared to order without a menu.

"He'll have lasagne, and, hey Cas, you want a beer or a whiskey."

"Whiskey," he muttered, staring at the table. He definitely needed something stronger than a beer tonight.

Meg cackled before slapping the table and walking off.

"Sorry about her, she's… an acquired taste, but mostly harmless," Dean reassured him, his hand on the table, open and available.

"You know everyone in town, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I do. Bobby took us in and then he went and married the town Sherriff. Plus, with Sam being in high school, I did all the PTA and parent-teacher conferences and football games and stuff."

"Really? After you moved here, you kept doing all of that?"

Dean shrugged. "What was I gonna do, just quit on the kid? I was who he was used to relying on, wouldn't feel right to let someone else just take over." He looked away and pulled slightly on the reddish blonde hair of his beard.

"You're a good man, Dean."

Dean's eyes went wide and red heat licked up from under his shirt collar all the way up to his ears. "I don't know about all that."

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, we don't have to talk about it, but I see what you gave up, what you took on, all because you loved your little brother. Not many men would do that. Fewer would keep doing that when they had an out, especially at that age."

"Okay, well, thanks." Dean shifted in his seat. "Anyway, you'll meet Sam tomorrow night. He's a big dork like you with the books and the school. Maybe you can talk him into getting a Master's or going to law school since you didn't stop after college. He won't listen to me since all I have is a GED."

"I'm sure he doesn't judge you for that."

"No, no, of course not, I just mean..."

"You just meant to deflect attention by putting yourself down."

Dean's mouth fell open and he gaped at Castiel. "Well, fuck." he muttered and began playing with his silver wear.

Meg returned to their table with glasses of water and their whiskeys. She didn't say much but made sure to wink at Castiel before leaving.

"So you and Charlie?" Castiel began, bringing the liquor to his lips. It shouldn't matter, but he needed to hear it. He needed to know for sure what Dean's story was so he could get him out of his head and focus on the job he was here to do.

"What?"

Castiel licked his lips. "She's your girlfriend, right?"

Dean stared at him blankly and then broke out into a riotous laugh that pulled stares from other diners. "Oh God, Cas, you read that so wrong. How can you be so perceptive about some things and just like not even in left field but out in the fucking parking lot with others?"

"What did I miss?" Castiel tilted his head.

"Charlie's a lesbian. Her girlfriend Dot will be there tomorrow; you can meet her, they're adorable. Char's the little sister I never wanted."

"Oh!" Castiel drank half his whiskey in one gulp to try and steady his now shaking hands.

"I'm going to have to tell her about that one. She'll die. Like she might actually snort up a lung at the idea of us together. I mean, she and I are living the queer stereotype for sure but not together."

"What stereotype?"

Dean looked at Castiel as if weighing and judging him - deciding what he should and shouldn't say.

"Let me ask you a question first."

"Okay."

"You're working with Michael. He's evangelical, and you're from a fundamentalist family. That usually implies you think about things a certain kind of way. But the stuff you said yesterday about God. It doesn't sound like either of those. So what kind of minister or reverend or whatever are you studying to become."

"Are you asking me if I have a problem with Charlie being gay?"

"Partially."

"I have no problems with Charlie or anyone else. Everyone has their own path to God, and God has His own plan for each of us. I'm studying to be a non-denominational Christian minister. Someplace I can find other people who think like I do, who believe what I do, who believe faith and love are intrinsically connected and can't be undone from one another."

"Shit, Cas. That's… like I could go to a church like that, and I'm pretty sure churches just spontaneously combust when I walk past them.

Castiel chuckled and downed the rest of his drink, "I'm quite certain that's not true."

"You really love what you do, don't you?"

"I do. Now tell me, what stereotype?"

"You know, the one where lesbians always have queer men as their best friends."

"Queer?"

"Yeah, Cas. I'm gay. Mostly. I guess the technical label would be bi. I was married for about a year, but that went… poorly in the end, although I definitely loved her. But for the most part, yeah, I'm gay."

They held eyes a little too long, the gaze broken only by the sudden appearance of Meg and their food.

Father, help me.

Castiel ordered another whiskey.