The following morning, Castiel was greeted with a pounding headache that instantly put him in a bad mood. He glared at his reflection as he shaved carefully, following an overly long and *relieving* shower. He muttered curses at his coffee machine, and pouted moodily as he sat on the couch to write a task list for the day. In his bad mood the night before, he had totally forgotten he had two days off work. Of course, that meant the washing could have waited - but then again it meant he could fit more in today. Within half an hour he had a carefully scheduled list compiled, every second of his day accounted for.
Castiel sat back in the couch, sipping the remnants of his coffee. He frowned as he recalled his previous confrontation with Dean - whether he liked the man or not, he'd had enough rest to realise that his words were callous and cruel. He didn't usually behave like that - in fact, from the moment he met the man, he'd been behaving in a way that entirely contradicted the way he tried to conduct himself.
"I need to apologise..." He muttered to himself, as he picked his list up again.
He glanced over his schedule - then he smiled crookedly as an idea came to mind. He made a few adjustments to the list then nodded to himself. Hopefully, his plan would work. With a hopeful outlook, Castiel rinsed his cup, and set to his first task of cleaning the apartment.
Castiel arrived back at his apartment block just before Midday, which meant he was half an hour ahead of schedule. He parked his car in the underground garage, making sure to lock it before he headed toward the elevator to take him up, laden with shopping bags. He was waiting for it to arrive when he heard a voice that held an anger that made his blood run cold.
"So, this is where you live." A large hulk of a man that he wished he didn't recognise stepped out of the dark stairwell, and Castiel cursed himself for not seeing him. At his panicked expression, the man chuckled darkly. "Ah, don't look so tense, now. If I was going to do something to you here, I would have already done so."
"Uriel." Castiel breathed, glancing at the elevator doors. It hadn't arrived yet, and despite the man's words, he felt the beginnings of panic.
"You cost me a job, fairy." Uriel growled, taking a step closer. "That's going to cost you. Now that I know where you live, it will come when you least expect it. But it will come. Every shadow, every strange sound - that could be me, Castiel, coming to exact my revenge."
The elevator dinged it's arrival and Castiel tumbled into it, his back hitting the wall as he slammed his hand on the button for his floor. Uriel's dark laughter followed him as the doors closed, leaving him panting and trembling, struggling to remind himself to breathe as his throat closed up with fear. By the time the doors slid open again, he was slouched on the floor. His chest heaved, unable to get his breathing under control, and he stared blankly at the floor. He could hear a voice, but he couldn't respond to it anymore, his entire focus on getting air into his lungs.
"Cas? Cas!"
He was dimly aware of hands holding his shoulders, shaking him - But as much as he wanted to, he couldn't react. His body wasn't cooperating with his mind anymore. He felt, however, the moment he was pulled against a strong body and held tight. He could hear slow, steady breathing in his ear, loud and controlled. Some part of his mind recognised it, and as he copied, the breaths slowly got steadier and deeper, until eventually he was breathing normally. Control of his body returned, and he pulled away slightly, frowning in confusion.
"Dean?"
"Jesus, Cas, what the hell happened?" Dean stared at him, relief and worry written in his face.
"I-" Cas paused as his mind raced. How could he explain this? How could he explain a few simple words had set him off like that? No. "I'd.. rather not talk about it."
"Right." Dean's eyes darkened as he sat back, his lips pursed. "Well, guess I'm good for more than just a fuck, huh?"
"Dean..." Castiel sighed, shame washing over him as he closed his eyes. "I shouldn't have said that about you. It was cruel and- and I didn't mean it."
"Yeah? Well, sorry doesn't just magically make it alright, man." Dean crossed his arms, watching Castiel. Admittedly, he hadn't expected the apology, but he wasn't going to let the guy get away with it that easily.
"I know." Castiel answered in a small voice, glancing back up at Dean. "I was hoping you would let me make it up to you. I would like to make you lunch. If.. if you haven't eaten yet. It isn't much, but it's food and I am a decent cook, and-"
"I'd like that." Dean cut him off, allowing a small grin. Food could always win him over, but he found the way Castiel kept babbling was endearing.
"-Oh. Great. That's great. Thankyou. I should probably..." Castiel glanced around himself, only now realising this whole conversation had happened in the elevator.
Dean shook his head with a smile and stood, then offered a hand to the man. Castiel accepted gratefully, and within a few minutes he was out of the elevator, once again laden with his shopping bags. Dean remained in the elevator, and Castiel looked at him questioningly.
"I've gotta run out to grab a few things." Dean explained. "Won't be long, maybe forty-five minutes."
"Of course. I should have lunch ready by then."
"Great. I'll come over after I've washed up, then."
Dean grinned and, with a nervous chuckle, pressed the button for the ground floor. He couldn't help smiling to himself as he caught the radiant expression on Castiel's face. Maybe Castiel really was an okay guy, and his first impression was way off. He was starting to doubt his idea that the guy was an alcoholic, too. But the little incident that had played out had him worried, and he pondered on it as he left on his errands.
Thirty-five minutes later, Castiel looked at his handiwork and was satisfied. He'd made burgers - but since he didn't know Dean's tastes yet, he'd plated everything in seperate little bowls and placed them on the table with two plates, in a build-your-own burger style. The meat patties, bacon and onions were all covered with tin foil to keep them warm. There was an array of salad vegetables, all ready sliced so that they could choose what they wanted, and the sauces were in the middle. It looked good.
Five minutes early, there was a knock on the door. As Castiel went to answer the door, he hesitated - what if it was Uriel? But as the hesitation stretched on, he heard Dean call out - announcing himself from the other side of the door. Castiel relaxed and opened the door, shooting the man a grateful smile.
"Dean. Come in."
He swung the door open wider, gesturing to the apartment. Dean stepped inside with a smile, and Castiel led him over to the table, which sat between the couch and the kitchen area. He watched Dean expectantly, smiling as the man's eyes widened in excitement at the spread laid out.
"Burgers? And bacon? Jesus, Cas, are you sure you don't know me from some alternate universe?"
Castiel laughed, and the mild tension that had developed quickly evaporated.
"I figured it's unlikely to go wrong with burgers." He explained as they took a seat.
"Thanks for this, Cas."
Dean was smiling at the man, his words meant for more than just the food. Castiel picked up on the meaning and ducked his head, flushing with slight embarassment. He felt a little out of his depth - how did this man manage to induce such reactions in him? But as he looked up again into those mesmerising eyes, he knew he didn't want whatever this was to stop.
"Go ahead, you must be hungry." Castiel motioned to the food.
He watched Dean build his burger and grinned slightly when absolutely no salad went near the buns. Dean was a meat, bacon and cheese guy, apparently. Castiel's own burger had a little of everything, topped with a spicy barbeque sauce. As they began to eat, Castiel couldn't help chuckling at the sounds of pleasure coming from Dean.
"What? S'good!" Dean grinned around a mouth full of burger.
"Dean, I have never heard anyone enjoy food so much. With those sounds, you could do a voiceover for a porn video." Castiel commented.
He grinned as Dean flushed a dark shade of red and flipped him off across the table.
They finished the meal in relative silence, until they were completely full and slouched back in their seats. They made idle chat for some time, until the food settled enough for an actual conversation. Castiel noticed Dean glancing around the apartment for the first time, and he felt shame flood through him. He'd forgotten about the state of his home when he invited Dean over. Now, however, he wished he'd insisted on bringing the lunch to Dean's apartment.
"It's.. I know how it looks. I'm not a slob, I swear. I tried to fix some stuff, but..." Castiel shrugged his shoulders, twisting his fingers nervously. "I can't afford much at the moment."
"Cas, stop. It's fine." Castiel looked up, noticing that Dean had leant forward to capture his attention better. "I'm not judging you. I get it. I was thinking, though, I could probably fix alot of this..."
"You- what?" Castiel frowned in confusion at the offer. "Dean, I just told you I can't afford it. I'm barely staying afloat here."
"I'm not asking for money."
Silence fell as Castiel stared at Dean in shock. Had the man seriously just offered to fix up his place for nothing? No, that wasn't possible. Nobody did anything for free anymore, there was always something expected in return. Then something clicked, and he glared at the man suspiciously.
"If you're implying that I would pay you with sex, I am most certainly not going to do that. I know we've had a few encounters, but I am certainly not a whore and-"
"Whoa, whoa! Hold up!" Dean raised his voice, hands held up in defence. "That's not what I was saying!"
"...Oh. Then what do you want in return?"
"Man, you gotta stop jumping to conclusions. I'm trying to tell you I don't want anything. I'll do it just to, you know, help out." Dean rubbed the back of his neck in frustration, and Castiel deflated, feeling ashamed. "Though I wouldn't turn down those burgers once in awhile."
"I don't understand." Castiel huffed, leaning back. "Nobody does anything just to help out."
Castiel caught the look of pity in Dean's eyes, and he hated it. He hated how it made him feel like he was less of a person, someone who couldn't make it on their own or something. It made him feel incapable; useless, even. He was about to say so, when Dean spoke again.
"You haven't exactly had it easy, have you?"
He sounded genuinely curious, a tinge of.. something, in his voice. It almost sounded like Dean could relate, but that certainly wasn't possible.
"No." Castiel replied simply, looking away.
The silence stretched for awhile as they avoided looking at each other. Castiel marvelled at the fact they they were simply sitting, had enjoyed lunch together, almost friendly. He smiled as he thought about the past week - the way that they had gone from hating each other, to sex, to this, confused him. He mused on that wonderingly - it made no sense. Castiel was usually a placid person, kept to himself, and certainly never went and fucked complete strangers. He wasn't the type to rage, nor switch emotions as quickly as he had been. Meeting Dean had brought out things he had never known about himself, and it unsettled him. Perhaps more unsettling was the thought that perhaps he had always been this way, and it had just stayed hidden this whole time.
"Cas?"
"Hm?"
"I was saying that I should probably get back to work." Dean's frown told Castiel it wasn't the first time he had called him.
"I'm sorry Dean, I was thinking. Do you really have to go?" Castiel flushed as soon as the words were out - that was meant to be a thought.
Dean grinned, though, and he relaxed slightly.
"Yep. Got a lot to do. But hey, I can come back tonight and get started on some work in here?" Dean asked, face alight in a way that Castiel imagined could be hope. "I mean.. if you don't have plans, or anything. You probably do, though. It is the night to party, so I mean, some other time-"
"Dean." Castiel interrupted half way through the babbling, and waited silently until Dean looked at him. "I think perhaps we have the wrong idea about each other."
"Oh?" Dean frowned, rubbing the back of his neck again.
"Yes." Castiel noticed the rubbing and smiled slightly. It seemed to a habit Dean had when he was frustrated, nervous or confused. It was a little cute. "I would like you to come back, if it's not too much trouble. I think I'd like to make you dinner, and we can maybe learn some more about each other."
"How do you make things sound so formal?" Dean questioned, though it seemed mostly to himself. "I- yeah, I'd like that. We can do that."
"Good." Castiel smiled.
For the remainder of the afternoon after Dean left, Castiel was frantic. While he had already cleaned the apartment in the morning, he now dedicated himself to removing the contents of every cupboard, scrubbed it, and replaced them all. As he sorted his belongings back into order, he noticed that he gained a lot of space - a testament to how little he actually owned. It was sobering, but it didn't really get him down too much. He'd lived like this a long time.
It was, however, slightly depressing to see how little was in his pantry. Despite his shopping today, it was less than half full. Castiel was the type that liked to have a lot of non perishable food, just in case. Right now he barely had enough to last a few days, and he knew he would have to get more soon. He filed that thought away for later as he gathered the ingredients he would need from there and the fridge, dumping it on the counter top.
As he prepped, he found his mind wandering to his budding friendship with Dean. It was strange, really, how their relationship had progressed. When he first met the man, he had hated him with a passion. Somehow, and very quickly, that hate had changed. It wasn't the moment they had sex - no, he had still hated Dean even then, as bad as that was. But somewhere along the line, something had shifted. He found himself considering Dean's reaction tonight, hoping he would like what Castiel had decided to make.
A knock came on the door far too early - He was barely finished assembling the dish before he could put it in the oven. He glanced at the clock, wondering if he had been running later than he thought - but no, it was only five o'clock. He wiped his hands off and cautiously approached the door, calling out once he reached it.
"Who is it?"
"Just your friendly neighbourhood fix-it service!" A sing song voice called back.
Castiel rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he swung the door open. He froze, his breath catching as he caught sight of Dean. He was clad in denim shorts and a tank top, which suited him well. His eyes were drawn to the tool belt on Dean's waist, and he wasn't sure how he could be instantly turned on just by that. His eyes raked over the man, eventually raising to meet green eyes dancing with amusement.
"Jesus, Cas. Last time somebody looked at me like that, I got laid."
Castiel flushed, not quite sure of what to say to that. He stayed silent, ducking his head as he stepped aside for Dean to enter. He heard the laugh as Dean led himself to the kitchen, and he couldn't help raising his eyes to the ceiling as he prayed for strength.
"So, um," Castiel coughed to clear his throat. "You're early."
"Yep. Figured I'd get a head start, being you like your early nights and all."
"Oh, well, um... thank you. I have a day off tomorrow, though. I don't get two off in a row often, but I did this week so I'm not back at work until Friday."
"Ah..." Dean didn't look so confident now, and Castiel was confused as the man turned back to the door. "I, um. I can come back later. If you'd prefer."
"Wait- no, that's not what I meant!" Castiel reached out hurriedly and grabbed Dean's wrist, causing shocked eyes to meet his own. "Stay, please."
A few beats of silence passed before Dean nodded, smiling slightly. Castiel let go of him and breathed a sigh of relief, watching as he placed the toolbox down by the wall. He couldn't help glancing over his ass in the tight denim, though he quickly averted his eyes when Dean stood and turned back to him.
"So I guess I'll check out what needs to be done first, if that's okay?" Dean asked, holding up a note pad and pen.
"Of course. I'm just going to finish preparing dinner so I can put it in to bake." Castiel replied. "Do you want a drink or anything?"
"Sure, I'll have whatever you've got. I'll just do this first."
Dean indicated the notepad, then turned and headed off for the bedrooms. Castiel flushed slightly as he realised the man was headed for his most personal space, glad that he had cleaned in there. Hopefully Dean would respect his privacy and not look through his belongings, but some part of him knew he could trust the man.
Half an hour later, Dean sidled up beside him as he finished washing up the few things he'd used to prepare dinner. He quietly grabbed a second beer from the fridge and held it up questioningly. Dean nodded, so he opened the bottle and passed it over, then turned around to lean back against the counter top. Dean grinned at him, mirroring his position opposite him as he dropped his note pad on the counter.
"So, am I going to be in debt for twenty years, or fifty?" Castiel joked.
"No debt." Dean chuckled, taking a long drink. "I mean, there's a bit to do, but the place is relatively solid. It's just surface stuff."
"Surface stuff?" Castiel frowned. The damage looked pretty extensive to him.
"Yeah. I mean for example, the paint is peeling off the walls sure. But the walls themselves are solid - no patch work needed, just a cleanup and few new coats of paint. These cupboards are solid, they just need a bit of fill, new doors and hinges, and they'll be fine. I've seen places that pretty much the whole insides needed to be gutted."
"Oh. I suppose when you put it like that, it doesn't seem so bad."
"Nah. Shouldn't take me more than a week, I think."
"That fast?" Castiel couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment at the words, though he tried not to let it show. He dropped his eyes to his bottle of beer, picking at the label. "I see."
"Cas?"
Castiel refused to look up. The tone of Dean's voice told him that his disappointment was evident, and he didn't really want to face the questioning about it. Dean wasn't going to accept that, however, and Castiel found fingers on his chin, lifting it so he could search his face. He bit his bottom lip slightly, surprised at how close Dean had gotten.
"You know... I know we haven't known each other long. But, if you wanted to still see me after..."
The sentence trailed off into silence as the two men just stared at each other. Castiel found himself leaning closer, his eyes trained on those perfect lips. He felt the sensation of butterflies in his stomach as they drew closer, tasting Dean's breath on his lips. Despite their interactions to date, this was the first time he honestly wanted to kiss the man without being angry. His hand came up to settle on Dean's hip, gently brushing over the material there.
Then Dean was gone, pulling away from him, and disappointment flooded him before he realised that the man was chuckling softly as he moved away.
"If you start that, I'll never get any work done."
"If I-?! You started that!" Castiel yelled after him in a shocked voice.
As Dean laughed, Castiel grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl and threw it, catching the man on the arm as he retreated to the bedroom. Another laugh sounded, and Castiel grumbled about ridiculous accusations - all the while with a smile on his face.