Dean didn't understand the whole thing Sam had going on with those two strange dudes, but whatever made his little brother happy.
He did find it a little weird that Sam and his boyfriend were discussing Sam's other boyfriend while Dean was driving.
"I know tonight was supposed to be our thing, but Gabriel just broke up with Kali and he needs someone to make him breakfast." Sam showed the blonde in the back seat next to him a text on his phone.
Sam sat in the backseat any time his boyfriends were around, and Dean didn't like that. His little brother was supposed to be up front with him. They were supposed to be partners in crime, two against the world, and then these guys had to take Sam's company from him.
"Is this you asking for a raincheck on me tonight?" Lucifer quipped, smiling wryly. "I'm sure Gabe is capable of putting his own damn self to bed."
Dean wanted to gag at the sight in his rearview mirror, Sam and Lucifer making weird love-eyes at each other. Dean could live without the cheesy romantic crap. Oh, and the thinly-veiled jabs about his little brother's strange sex life.
"I have to make sure he doesn't put himself in an alcohol-induced coma. All I need to do is check on him after dinner, then get up early and go make him pancakes or something." Sam promised. "I'm not skipping out on you, babe, just changing plans a little."
Dean's eyes flashed away from the road and to the mirror again in time to see the blonde brush his fingers across Sam's cheekbone. "At least let me drive."
Dean made a face and looked back at the road.
The streets of L.A. seemed eerily empty, even for as dark as it was. Dean pulled up outside of the blonde man's apartment. "This one is for you guys."
Sam leaned over the console to grab his phone out of the passenger seat. "Thanks for the ride, Dean. I'll see you tomorrow?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah. Call me." He ruffled Sam's hair affectionately and looked at Sam's boyfriend. "You know the drill."
Lucifer laughed, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't hurt him or they'll never find my body. I remember."
Dean watched Sam and Lucifer disappear up the stairs that led to the blonde's apartment, his stomach almost tight with jealousy. He wished he could be in love like they were. It killed him to watch this weird lawyer guy act so loving and protective of his little brother. The devil was in their little touches, and Dean noticed all of them. Sam's hand on the blonde's thigh, Lucifer's arm easily across the back of restaurant booths with his hand flicked over Sam's shoulders, the eye contact.
Dean was lonely and he knew it. He hadn't had a date in almost a year. He craved the stability and love that came with a relationship, but he couldn't seem to bring himself past his one night stands.
Which, by the way, he was going to be late for. He'd met a girl on Feathr, a dating app, named Abby. She was a gorgeous redhead and they had exchanged text messages hot enough to start fires. Dean put his Baby in drive and started towards the bar.
The bar was a few blocks from Lucifer's place, in a slightly more questionable area. Dean parked close to the building, close enough for the neon signs to illuminate his Baby's paint job.
The inside was seedy, but Dean didn't mind. He took a seat at the counter and ordered a whiskey and coke to sip on.
Not five minutes after he sat down and started idly scrolling his phone, the stool next to him scraped across the floor. Dean looked up and locked gazes with a man sporting the most riveting blue eyes.
His hair was a mussed up mess of raven locks, long enough to sweep across his forehead but too short to touch his ears. His jaw was a strong line and dusted with black stubble. His hair contrasted the deep blue of his wide doe eyes, and Dean put his hand over his mouth to suppress a low whistle.
He wasn't totally oblivious; Dean knew that sometimes he liked men, but he'd never slept with one. Dean Winchester's sexual adventures were solely heterosexual, thank you very much. The man next to him stripped off a beige trench coat to reveal a tight white tee and ripped skinny jeans that really complimented his—
Dean took a long drink. That was a can of worms he didn't need to open right now.
The bartender seemed to know the man next to him and set a bottle down in front of him with a smile. "Haven't seen you in a bit! Makin' it big now?"
The man fingered the neck of the bottle with a pale, nimble hand. "We're trying. You still want us to play next Friday?"
The bartender chuckled. "We wouldn't cancel for the world."
The black-haired man raised his bottle and tipped it slightly. "Hopefully I can bring Abby, and it'll be a night to remember."
Dean frowned. Abby? Surely it was a coincidence.
"Let me know if you have any creative ways you want to do it, man. I'll do what I can." The bartender winked and moved on down the counter.
Dean turned to the black haired man and tried to catch his breath. "Did you say your girl's name was Abby?"
The man set his bottle on the counter heavily. "Yeah, love of my life."
"She a redhead?" Dean blurted, his stomach dropping out of his body.
"Yeah, why?" The man frowned, as if he was having the same thoughts as Dean.
"Son of a bitch." Dean whispered. "I, uh, she was supposed to meet me here tonight."
Blue eyes hardened, and the man whipped out his phone. The screen was cracked. He tapped the screen a few times, then held the phone to his ear. "Abs?"
Dean watched the man's face fall and waved the bartender over. He pointed at the drink in the black-haired man's hand. "Can I get two more of those?"
"Yeah, babe, I'm at Marbles. Uh-huh. You coming to meet me?" His soft pink lips hardened into a thin line. "Are you staying with Rowena?"
Dean swallowed nervously.
"That's real funny, babe, because I met this guy at the bar." A hard blue gaze settled on Dean. "What did you say your name was?"
"Dean." The Winchester offered as the bartender set two more bottles on the counter.
"Dean. Yeah, super cool dude. Says he's waiting on someone. You sure you're not heading over?" The man's face dropped into a frown. "I knew you would do something like this." His voice was soft, full of hurt.
Dean wasn't sure what compelled him to do so, but he opened his phone and found Abby's Feathr profile. He slid it across the counter for the blue-eyed man to see.
His voice grated like a sewer cover across gravel. "I knew you were cheating on me. Get your crap out of my place by tomorrow. I don't want to see you again." Then he hung up the phone.
"That sucks, man." Dean shook his head. "If I had known, I wouldn't have agreed to meet her." He pocketed his phone and offered the man a second bottle of beer.
"I had a feeling, but I wanted to ignore it." He took a long swig of his drink before slamming the bottle on the counter again with a thunk. "I thought I could change her, you know?"
"Can't change anyone. Not cheaters, not liars, not weird little brothers." Dean traced his finger across the lip of his glass.
The man finished off the bottle in his hand. "I'm Castiel." He offered his hand to Dean, a little unsteady.
"Nice to meet you, Cas." Dean liked the sound of the shorter name better. "I'm Dean. Winchester." He gripped Castiel's hand for a little too long, then let it drop.
"Well, Dean. That was an eventful ten minutes. I'm gonna need my guitar." He stood up unsteadily. Dean fumbled some cash onto the counter and followed the black-haired man outside.
Cas was far more drunk than the two beers he'd had, Dean reasoned. He must've been drinking before. The strange little guy clutched his trench coat to his chest and stumbled over to a pickup truck, parked in the row across from Baby.
"Cas?" Dean grabbed the guy's hand and took his keys from him. "You're not driving."
Castiel groaned. "Gimme my keys."
Dean fumbled for the unlock button and the truck lit up. "You said something about a guitar, right?"
His blue eyes lit up and he opened the backseat. Castiel pulled a beat up black case out of the truck and shut the door. He looked around the parking lot, then sat on the asphalt. Humming tunelessly to himself, Cas popped open the latches and opened the case.
His guitar was a work of art. The wood was polished, gleaming in the dim light of the bar. Painted onto the white wood were a set of wings. Every little feather was painted individually and outlined in a metallic gold paint. Castiel settled the instrument in his lap, plucking the strings and tilting his head to the side.
"Damn E string." He cursed, turning one of the pegs and plucking that one again. "Never stays in tune."
Dean chuckled. He looked around the parking lot, and they were alone beneath the cloudy sky. "You wanna get somewhere we won't get rained on first?"
Castiel shook his head. "Let the sky cry with me." He picked a chord and strummed the guitar a few times.
Dean wasn't one for soft music; he much preferred classic rock and a little bit of the newer heavy stuff, but Castiel's singing was amazing.
My crown of thorns caught up with me today
When I looked in the mirror again
My eyes are full of rain
Sometimes I think I can escape
But Misery creeps along my side
Castiel's tongue flicked out to wet his lips and his fingers slid along the neck of the guitar, changing chords and humming in harmony. The first pricks of rain hit the back of Dean's neck.
"Hey. Cas." Dean pointed at the sky. "Let's get you somewhere dry." Dean knelt and gently took the guitar from the trench-coat wearing man and put it back in its case. He clicked the latches shut and helped Castiel to his feet. "I'm not letting you drive."
Castiel crossed his arms and pouted. "But I gotta get home."
"No, buddy, you're gonna crash with me tonight. I'll take you home when you're sober." Dean promised, walking over to Baby and stashing the guitar in the backseat.
Castiel seemed resigned to the fact that Dean was doing this for his own good. Dean made sure the man had his seatbelt on before he started the car. The roar of Baby's engine was comforting to him, but it made Castiel jump. Dean turned on the radio and Black Sabbath came floating out of the speakers.
Castiel reached for the radio and poked some buttons. Dean was tempted to tell Cas to stop touching the radio because he wasn't driving, but the poor guy had just had his whole world upended.
The black haired man cracked up in a smile when he flicked on a local station, where the host was talking.
"And now, our favorite local's choice band, Commies With Guitars, and their new single, Void of Perdition!"
Castiel picked up the volume a few notches and settled back. Dean frowned slightly until he heard an all-too-familiar voice coming from the speakers. Castiel.
You weren't promised to me, but another
But I couldn't watch you fight in Hell any longer.
I fought through my demons and tried to drown yours
The void inside was ours
But I gripped you tight and raised you up.
This band was actually something Dean liked, the nice balance of drum riffs and guitar solos humming pleasantly in Dean's ear. Castiel sang along, like he knew the ins and outs of every word… probably because he did.
The song was barely four and a half minutes, and Dean must've driven way too fast, because they pulled up to his apartment building just as the last cries of the guitar faded away. Dean shut off the car and looked at Cas. "Your band, huh?"
"Yeah. My brothers say I should get a real job, accounting or some shit, but I couldn't give up my music." Cas fiddled with his sleeve.
"Maybe they just worry about you." Dean made no move to get out of the car.
"Maybe they need to mind their own damn business. I don't care that they all went to college. Architects and lawyers all have sticks up their asses." Castiel made a face. "I'll never work in an office." He declared.
Dean chuckled. "Amen to that, brother. Let's get you upstairs." Dean got out of the car.
Castiel did not navigate stairs very well while inebriated. Dean let the singer hold onto his arms.
"Come on, buddy. Just another flight." Dean soothed. Castiel stumbled and almost brought Dean down with him.
"Why do you live in the clouds?" Castiel mumbled.
Dean didn't know how to answer that. He guided Castiel to his door and hoped his roommate was asleep. He didn't want to explain why he brought home a drunk man to sleep in their apartment. His key still fit, so at least Balthazar hasn't changed the locks since Dean had used the last of the coffee creamer that morning.
"Come on, buddy." Dean guided Castiel through the dark of the living room and pushed him onto the couch. Castiel growled. "I know." Dean reassured. He went to the refrigerator and found a sports drink.
Castiel shrugged himself out of his trench coat and gladly accepted the drink.
"Electrolytes." Dean chuckled. "It'll help your hangover."
"It's dark in here." Castiel observed.
Dean shrugged. "I don't wanna wake my roommate up. I pissed him off this morning."
Castiel nodded and drank slowly. "You got brothers?"
"Yeah, my little brother. I love him to death even if his life weirds me out." Dean smiled. Sam would be teasing him until the end of time if he knew that Dean had a drunk musician on his couch.
"Why does his life weird you out?" Castiel's voice was almost childish, but the deep gravel of his voice kept him in the realm of sounding like an adult.
Dean chuckled. "He's got this weird thing going on where he has two boyfriends. I really don't get it, and the one kinda freaks me out because he's really intense." Dean kicked off his boots. "But whatever makes Sam happy."
Castiel nodded. "I wish my big brother was like that. Mikey was rather upset with me when I told 'im I was pan. Wish he would just want me to be happy." The singer rolled his shoulders. "Wish Nicky would introduce us to his girlfriend, but I bet he doesn't because Mikey wouldn't like her."
"Big brothers always try to do what they think is best." Dean shifted away from Castiel as the black-haired man pulled his knees to his chest. "Can I get you a blanket?"
Castiel shrugged. "Yeah. That'd be nice."
Dean stood up. "I'll get you back to your truck in the morning." He went hunting for a blanket. Finally finding one that Dean swore used to be Sam's baby blanket, he returned to the couch to find that Castiel had balled up his coat for a pillow and snuggled into the back of the couch. "Here." He covered the man up.
Castiel mumbled his thanks and drew the blanket to his chin. "G'night, Dean."
"Night, Cas. If my roommate wakes you up in the morning, you have my permission to hit him."