Hey lovlies! I hope you enjoy chapter 4!
This ones a little longer than the ones before it, I reallyh hope you like it.
Also I'm looking for a beta reader if anyone is interested! My fic email is in my bio please feel free to use it 3!
Stay safe all!
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They finish the night watching their show. Laughing at Deans' excitement anytime Dr Sexy came on screen. Tossing popcorn or gummy worms at the other when they started dozing off and rattling off predictions for the next season based off of small scenes from episodes they had forgotten about.
And even though part of Dean was on fire while the other was ice cold, he was so damn happy in this one sueded evening.
Because Cas hadn't moved far from him. Always finding his way back to the inviting curve of Dean's side. Settling back beneath their shared blanket any time he moved to grab something from the coffee table.
He kept glancing up to look at Dean, checking to see if this was still okay. There was so much trust and doubt in his eyes. Dean wanted to say...something. He couldn't decide what exactly but it was probably something related to his pathetic infatuation. However, just as he always managed, he reminded himself.
Cas isn't meant for him.
He isn't meant to love Dean.
Not when he could do so much better than flannel clad anger issues and a rudimentary drinking problem.
No, Cas deserved the stars in the sky. Someone uncomplicated and brave. Someone as selfless as the man himself.
There was someone out there who could offer Cas the universe, all Dean has ever been is a measly planet falling apart at the seams.
He takes advantage of his opportunity, taking the arm already slung over Cas' shoulder and letting his hand run up and down the unbelievably soft skin there for the taking.
The television soon becomes white noise, lost and meaningless in comparison to the sauna of heat and peace, lying atop half of his body.
He feels the exhaustion soak into his bones but he fights it off gruffly. He doesn't want to fall asleep. Not yet. Not when he knows at some point when he wakes up again, Cas will be there waiting for him to hand him the steps he will take into another's man's arms.
The hours were flying by too quickly. Before Dean knew it, the sun was due to rise in an hour and Cas had fallen asleep on his shoulder an entire episode ago.
Dean finds himself running fingers through soft, perpetually messy hair next, searching past thick strands for sharp lines and soft curves.
Without his permission, the tip of his finger trails from his hairline to the creamy skin of his cheek bones then his jaw. He stops himself short of trailing over plump lips, taunting him in all their unfair perfection.
"I have so much to say to you." He whispers, voice strained, "But I can't say a word of it, can I?"
He looks so young this way. Just as he did when they first met. Fresh faced and eager to understand the world.
Cas was home schooled before college, meaning his knowledge of social interactions past his siblings were limited at best. Which, in hindsight, explained a lot about their initial interaction.
That being said, the man is sharp as a tack. Always so willing, not to mention capable, of maintaining an interested, in depth conversation with the Brains of the group, ie; Charlie, Kevin and Sammy.
All topics over Deans scope of understanding, of course.
Yet, he never tried to show Dean up in that regard.
The opposite actually. Cas included Dean in these types of conversations, urged his opinions and made him feel like he could be a part of it, despite the fact he knew he had no business trying to be one of "the smart ones" of the group.
He knew better. Said so even.
Cas never liked that answer. Loathed it anytime Dean tried to evade conversations he secretly wanted to know more about. It became so common after they first became friends that he was soon accustomed to the pattern of things and instead of separating himself from the conversation he'd pay attention and sparingly offered his own views.
It had been surreal.
These were people Dean had known his entire life and they had each, in their own ways, urged Dean to participate in their debates and discussions but he had always found a way to pointedly disregard their prompting. Seeing it more as pity, than a core belief that Dean belonged in the conversation.
With Cas, though… There was something so simply pure and kind about him, the idea of denying him anything left him feeling barbed somehow.
That feeling didn't seem to lessen with time.
As intelligent, kind and generous Cas soon was discovered to be, another equally as charming characteristic was brought to the attention of their friends;
Cas was naive.
He was (and still is) utterly unaware of his natural allure or anything else that was integral to his awesome personality.
Brilliant as he has always been, he didn't know much beyond his sheltered upbringing. It was probably why he hadn't then or even now, immediately connected the dots when it came to how Dean felt about him.
Dean had come to this library a total of 9 times in the span of 4 days.
Initially, Sam was confused- almost concerned about his older brother, thinking maybe his grades were slipping.
It was getting increasingly odd, he wasn't just seeking out the public library but being eager to get there.
He had cancelled lunch twice on him last week because he, 'Hadda hit the books at the Library, Sammy. We'll do something next week!'
Dean Winchester? Skipping out on Roadhouse burgers? He thinks not!
So this time, when he sent a quick text to cancel for a third time in favor of another library run, Sam decided to tag along.
Although Dean was older and studying an entirely different field than he was, the youngest Winchester was well versed in the benefits a study buddy could provide. He presumed at least his company would serve his brother well.
Should he have told Dean that he was going to tag along?
Maybe… Okay, probably.
But Dean wasn't one to express weakness and Sam could never be sure when it came to the blonde. He was so hot and cold on so many different things. He didn't want to accidentally offend him by offering his help.
So, he figured if he showed up and subtly infiltrated his study session, passing it off as an opportunity to study himself (which of course wasn't a bad idea in and of itself) where was the harm in that?
Honestly, he was disappointed in himself for not realizing this was all about some tail.
Good thing he changed his mind last year and opted for legal studies instead of Law enforcement. He's apparently a poor excuse for a detective.
Because there his brother was.
He sat at a table off in the corner of the room. Away from the windows and too near the more heavily stacked and cluttered shelves to make his presence at all obvious.
There were a few books stacked at his table. None of which had anything to do with one another, let alone mechanical sciences, which so happened to be Deans Major.
The most pitiful part was the book he was 'reading' was upside down.
Sam quenches the urge to face-palm, choosing to instead trace where his brother's gaze remained glued.
It took him two tries before he determined the subject of Deans, admittedly shameless gawking.
The man, clearly utilizing their public library as it was intended, had his brow pinched, sat alone at a table of his own, books also piled a mile high, none the wiser of his cleverly concealed admirer.
Sam made his way over to Dean as discreetly as he could, only realizing once he was in front of his bone head of a brother that he had no reason to be sneaky.
He doubted Dean had made a move yet, which was weird, but there was no way he had made a move if he was being a creeper from all the way on the other side of the room.
"Should have known this was all about a hot piece of ass." Sam shakes his head in mock disappointment, "Is this worth missing lunch with me?"
Dean doesn't even have the decency to properly acknowledge Sam, glancing at him for half a second before letting his gaze run back to black hair and blue eyes.
Without looking up again, Dean blindly sifts around his table and lifts a ziploc bag half full with Pringles for the law student to see.
"That's food? And it just sitting there, only supports the not eating concern."
Narrowing his eyes in agitation, Dean straightens up in his seat, roughly opening up his snack and munching on one unfortunate chip in two bites,
"See?," He snaps, " I ate. Now let me creep in peace."
Sam can't help but laugh at his expense, not that Dean can blame him; he was acting odd.
Taking a seat beside Dean, Sam whistles lowly, offering a look that appears to be a cross between impressed and concerned,
"Who is this guy, anyway? I've never seen you like this before."
"...I don't know."
"You don't know?"
Green finds their way back to the guy in question. The same guy who has had Dean in a trance for nearly a month now, drinking in the way his eyes soften as he begins to understand whatever it is he's reading, taking notes between pages.
"He does this thing where he holds his highlighter between his ring and middle finger as he writes. He switches between it and his pen, one handed, Sammy… It's… It's-uh" He stumbles catching himself before he can admit to Sam just how much of a stalker he had become in the last three weeks.
It might have been too late though, because Sam is already giving him his signature bitch face. Lips pursed and brow raised in suspicion.
Dean wants to bury himself underneath the table, but then he wouldn't have as good of an angle to continue stalking.
Jesus, he thinks, What the fuck is wrong with me?
"I ask myself that about you, almost every day."
Hmm, he must have said that aloud….
"Fuck you, Sam."
Chuckling, Sam shrugs, "Sorry, but I've never seen you this way. It's nice to see you have feelings. Stalkery feelings but feelings nonetheless."
"I am not stalking him!"
"Oh yeah? Whatcha you reading there, big bro?"
Dean scoffs, trying to sneakily catch a glimpse of the random book he had set in front of him before he realizes it's not rightside up and the title is nowhere near display.
"Fine." He sighs, "But I'm not stalking him. I only see him here. I think his name is Cas. I heard the librarian call him that last week. And before you say anything I wasn't purposefully eavesdropping, I was working myself up to turn on the charm and she so happened to intercept me before I had the chance."
"So you mean to tell me that you've been coming here to ogle this poor guy for however long and you still haven't even introduced yourself?"
Dean glares at the youngest Winchester before he internally reflects on his words.
He's right. By all means he should have made his move ages ago, but… He doesn't know, maybe the guys' just intimidating.
He'd seen him very pointedly, with an impressive amount of sass, shoot down all types of people who dared to approach him.
Dean's never had a problem in the flirting department before. Guys and chicks alike had no problem rolling right into his bed. There were some he needed an actual crowbar to pry them away from said bed. Not that he could blame them, (memory foam bitch!).
But there was something off-different-about this stanger. He just couldn't put his finger on it.
"Wow," Sam continues, "I've never seen you with a crush."
"Psh! Please, Dean Winchester does not get crushes."
"Mhhmm. I've got two words for you;' '."
"You can't just use Dr. Sexy against me at every turn, Sam."
Sam scoffs, "The hell I can't! It's my right as the younger brother. Now can you please make a move already? This is painful to watch."
Dean rolls his eyes, and tries to find a reason to argue with the overgrown twerp but he can't find a one good enough.
Again, sam's right. He needs to go over there!
He may just lose his mind if he doesn't.
Squaring his shoulders, Dean takes a deep breath.
Now or never.
"Alright, I'm gonna go"
"Hallelujah!"
Suddenly, one foot is moving in front of the other towards the object of his most recent obsession.
His mind is swimming. His thoughts sluggish and unresponsive, moving waayy too slow because now he's in front of him and he forgot to come up with something to say.
The brunette pulls his attention away from his book, paralyzing Dean instantly.
Holy shit, those are Blue...
Well, that definitely isn't gonna help Dean formulate words.
"Can I help you?"
Woah.
Now, that's a voice.
It takes him a moment before his brain is reminding him this is the part where he's meant to say something,
"Ahem, oh! Um,yeah."
Alright, there you go Winchester!
Seal the deal, use a cheesy pick up line, they're funny and they're flattering, hasn't failed you yet.
Feeling the confidence strengthen his spine, Dean allows an easy smirk to tug at his lips,
"Hey there, sweetheart, sorry to bother you. But do you think you can help me find something?"
Dean had run that line a handful of times. It was like a play he put on. He's gotten different responses, all within a certain ballpark of each other and all relevant to how he could eventually get a laugh and get a lay.
That is, before Cas he could.
Blue eyes squint up at the taller man, "Do you think I work here?", he asks
Well, that's not in the script.
"Do you- Do you not work here?" Dean stumbles, feeling flustered for what may be the first time.
"No," Cas says slowly.
The smaller man tilts his head to the side in confusion, giving Dean enough time to pause his flustered freak out to note how adorable it is.
This is not how this is supposed to go!
Dean is meant to ask, 'Can you help me to find something'
Then Cas would reply, 'Find what?'
Before being met by a cheesy, 'The keys to your heart.'
"I- I'm sorry, " He finally settles on saying. He can practically hear Sam wince from behind him.
Oh, he's sorry. Sorry he ever stood up from that damn chair.
"Please ignore me. Forget- Forget I ever. Ugh."
Dean shakes his head, not even bothering with a proper apology anymore. He struggles to meant Sam's penitent expression, he's ready to ignore him and drown out this failed attempt with booze and random sex, but then...
"No, wait!"
Dean is half way to his table when he feels a warm hand gently grip his forearm. He is immediately met by those intense blue and his tongue stops working all over again.
It didn't matter though, because apparently it was Cas' turn to talk.
"Don't be upset. I don't mind. I practically live here these days. As a child I actually seriously considered library sciences. I promise I'm not offended."
Cas' eyes are huge. Like impossibly big.
He can see that he's nervous. That he's working on impulse and feels like he doesn't know what he's doing. It's overwhelming. Deans never seen anything like it, Never understood the phrase 'Windows to the soul' before this moment but it was undeniable, like reading off the pages of a book.
For a second, Dean worries he's been staring for too long, but when Cas doesn't express any protest he tries to see if he can gage any thoughts from those wide expressive eyes.
"Would- Would you, uh, like to get some coffee with me? My brother just ditched me, and I can use some company." He lies.
Sam found his way here, he can find his way home, he figures.
Cas looks unsure. Shy…
Stange.
He didn't appear all that shy all those times people had come up to him before. He was way more...Guarded? Almost prepared for a brawl.
Dean wanted to spend hours asking him questions. Hearing that unexpectedly deep voice say his name. He could only imagine hoe addicted he'd be to it,
"I think some coffee would suit me well. Thank you."
It was the first time he had seen Cas smile. It's unsettling how beautiful it is. Something fluttery and too warm pools in his stomach and he never wants it to stop.
They properly introduce themselves, then walk to the coffee shop on campus, no more than a 15 minute walk from where they had been.
Like water, the conversation crashes into them. Waves of new topics washing over each subject before it.
By the time they made it to the coffee shop Dean had Cas doubled over in laughter.
He had paid for Cas' caffeine monstrosity- that's a sugar milkshake, Cas!- as well as his own-normal- coffee, much to the English majors dismay. Dean had made up some bullshit about making it up to Cas for confusing him with staff, and for whatever reason Cas genuinely believed him. Offering a tight smile and promising to treat next time,
Dean tried not show (or think) how fucking excited the thought of a next time made him.
They spent close to two hours, switching from conversation to conversation.
Dean learned a lot that night. He learned that Cas was the youngest of 5 brothers. He was homeschooled by his mother, who was thankfully a retired college professor due to some incessant bullying. He tried to play it off as if it was no big deal, but Dean also noticed a pattern throughout their hang out-date?- Cas had a tendency to bite the corner of his lip right before he skipped over something a bit too personal, as if he was stopping himself from saying more.
Dean was quick to see that he didn't share the same amount of self control when it came to talking to the insanely brilliant brunette.
He spoke about his mothers Death and his fathers absence, he raved about Sam and his favorite movies and every topic in between
When that well ran dry, they guessed eachothers favorite colors amongst other trivial things and didn't leave until the waitress politely kicked them out for not buying anything else,
They're standing outside the coffee shop, the sun starting to descend from the sky. Dean can't believe how long they spent talking.
"Well, this has been very enjoyable, but I should probably be getting home." Cas grins, biting his lip just the slightest bit and Dean feels his entire body convulse with the need to know what he wanted to add to that sentence.
"Can I walk you?" He hears himself ask, shoving his hands into his pockets, afraid he'll do something stupid like reach out and take Cas' hand into his own.
"You don't have to do that." Cas argues.
"Yeah, but I want to."
It's too easy to say what he's thinking with this guy. What the hell? It's like he has no filter.
Opening and closing his mouth for a moment before clearing his throat, Cas nods his head,
"O-okay. Sure, I'd like that."
Cas, unfortunately, lived fairley close to the coffee shop they had come from, no more than 10 minutes.
Still they stretched those 10 minutes into an eternity. Rounded the block a full two times before Deans curiosity got the best of him.
Ugh, he thought, all the apartments on campus looked identical, he felt like he passed his own a handful of times but he wasn't paying mind to the numbers, not when he could be paying attention to Cas.
"Where do you live anyway? We've been walking for like half an hour."
"Oh well," Cas stammers bashfully, a laugh hanging off the corner of soft pink lips.
"We've actually passed my house twice now. And actually, I really should be getting home. I have an exam tomorrow."
"Dude! Why didn't you say anything?"
"I'm sorry," He says between bashful chuckles, "You were just so enthralled with your story about the Dr. show, I couldn't bring myself to interrupt you, but I have to go really bad."
"No, man. It's alright." Dean assures him, catching his breath,
"I'm the one who should be sorry."
Cas shakes his head, "If we turn here it's the third house we passed on this block,"
The amature author points in the direction of his shared dorm apartment.
Hmm, it was close. Damn.
In seconds, they're in front of Cas' door, the sun starting to come down, The light reflecting off Cas head from this one angle, and it almost looks like he had a halo.
Jesus…. He's lossin' his edge.
"Where do you live, Dean?"
"342 B"
With a blank expression, Cas tilts his head in that ridiculously adorable way again.
"Whats up?"
"Dean, This is building 342."
That's when Dean looks up towards the mailbox set by the stoop. In bold numbers confirming what Cas just said.
"Oh."
Cas laughs something melodic and loud, making Dean's own laughter range louder, unable to believe they're fucking neighbors!
"We passed this building twice!"
"I guess I was distracted," He flirts.
Giving another small laugh, Cas shakes his head "This was very kind of you, Dean. I had a great time, Thank you"
"Anytime, Cas. I had a lot of fun too."
Suddenly, Cas is moving his mouth to bring his teeth forward but he stops himself,
"I've had a really hard time making any friends since classes started. I've been told that I come off as a bit of a loner or intense. The loneliness was really starting to get to me, so…" He trails off, biting that god forsaken lip again.
He sighs heavily, his smile timid again, as opposed to the confident sure smiles he had sported the last couple of hours.
"Thank you," he repeats earnestly, I really needed a friend."
It's like a record scratched,
"Can you consider yourself friends with someone after a single afternoon?" He asks Dean curiously.
The last thing he learned that night was something he wished he hadn't noticed. But it was painfully obvious,
So damn painful…
The way Cas said goodbye to the librarian and thanked the waitress for her patience or the cashier for his time.
It shows the most essential elements of who he was as a person.
Cas is kind. Through and through. Good.
More so than Dean had ever been able to witness before. He could feel it emanating off his body; the sheer compassion is a palpable force demanding Dean recognize the situation for what it was.
That fact alone brought him to the last of his first impressions of who would become his best friend for the next 5 years.
Cas was lightyears out of his league.
Even if he could seduce the innocent, unbelievably smart man into actually dating him, Dean would never be Cas' happily ever after.
Eventually they would fall out. Not work out and Cas would inevitably walk away from him.
That's assuming. Cas would ever willingly consider Dean.
He takes a lasting look into vibrant blue, recognizing just how addicted he was already. As he knew he would be.
He could see the future so clearly, Cas smiling at him, knowing him more than anyone else ever would. He wouldn't have said he fell in love with Castiel during their first meeting but he would say the thought of never seeing him again left his soul feeling empty and starving for the space Cas would so easily take up in his world.
Maybe he can't have Cas as a lover. That's fine. He can do friends.
Maybe that's why it had been so difficult to just go up to him in the first place. Why laying down the groundwork for a fling was nearly impossible, because on some level, he had known Cas would be different.
A friend.
"Yeah, Bud." He smiles, not at all hollow,
"We're definitely friends."
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Holy shit! That was soooo much longer than I thought but I couldn't stop going! I hope y'all like it
Also yay we get a little bit of an origin story! I love internally sappy Dean and writing him is just as fun. I'm new to it though, I'm more used to writing a heavily emotionally constipated and or closeted Dean so this is interesting for me. Please let me know what you think about this chapter and what you hope to see next in the comments!
Thank you and stay safe all and happy holidays!
