November 8th, 1996
So yeah, maybe Dean isn't as friendly as he promised he would. And maybe after he took a shower, his head cleared and he realized the severity of the situation. Possibly, he might have replied 'fuck off' to each of Sam's questions. It's not his fault that having friends is just so damn hard.
Dean chews on his pen and pointedly ignores Castiel's attempts to begin a conversation. That's how it's been the whole week. Dean might have agreed to be Cas's friend, but he was under pressure in that moment. It doesn't count.
He wishes John would hurry up with the werewolves. How difficult can it be to kill a few of those bastards? Okay, maybe a whole pack isn't a "few", but Dean is persuaded that John's slacking. Most of the times he comes back to the motel after a couple of nights in his drunken state, and both Sammy and Dean are well aware that he wouldn't hunt this inebriated. He's always under the influence of a little bit of Hunter's Helper, but never to the point that he can barely walk in a straight line.
They're here for almost a week and John hasn't even found the werewolves' lair yet. That's pretty weak for the best hunter in the business.
Needless to point out, it complicates Dean's plans to avoid Cas and get out of here as soon as possible. Sometimes his dad's hunts take a month or two, but they must be really complicated. These are just werewolves. John has faced them before and this should be no problem. So why is it taking so goddamn long?
The thing is, Dean thought that ignoring Cas would cause his interest to falter. Nevertheless, Cas is as insistent as ever. He still invites Dean over for tutoring, and Dean still goes, which is incidentally where they are right at this moment.
"Dean, I'm not an idiot. I can tell you are not focusing on the curriculum," Cas grumbles as he lays the heavy textbook on the coffee table.
"I'm sorry," Dean rubs his face, "there's just a lot on my mind. And it's Friday, Cas, this is slavery!"
Castiel scrutinizes Dean with the usual intensity that no longer makes Dean feel uneasy. (Instead, it makes him want to surge forward and kiss Cas, which is not much better.)
"Alright," Cas finally sighs.
Dean beams. "So I can go home?"
For a second, Castiel wants to say 'yes' and kick Dean out of his fake-house. This mission is harder than he anticipated and he seems to be getting nowhere. Dean won't budge and only speaks to him when they're alone; even then he tries to avoid it. Castiel has had enough. He's not even opposed to the idea of losing his virginity to Dean anymore, but he can't actually seduce anyone. Gabriel once suggested that Cas could get Dean drunk, which would make things very easy, but Castiel's morals didn't let him agree to this plan.
Gabriel keeps assuring the younger angel that everything will work out just fine in the end, and the fact that John's grieving his wife and has a mental breakdown bigger than usual buys them some time. He gave Cas an 'assignment' for today to 'get things moving,' though.
"Well," Cas tries to look enthusiastic, "I thought we could go see a movie."
Dean gulps. This is exactly the moment he dreaded. It had to come sooner or later since Cas and he are 'friends,' but Dean really hoped it'd be later.
They're friends. They are. Dean can do this.
"What movie?"
"There's this new movie that is coming out tonight. Ransom, you've heard of it?"
"The one with Mel Gibson?" Dean's eyes almost pop out of his head in excitement. "Dude, I've been wantin' to see that movie since I've heard that they were gonna make it!"
Cas smiles and this time it's genuine as relief washes over him. "I take it that you would like to go?"
Dean almost trips and falls on his face when he hastily puts on his shoes and stalks towards the door. Screw awkwardness and pushing Cas away. Cas is obviously not giving up on Dean and he really wants to see that freaking movie, therefore he'll absolutely avoid the fact that this could be considered a date, and makes a mental note not to pay for both of them.
They can have a good time. Just two buddies hanging out at the movie theatre because they have nothing (and no one) better to do. People do that all the time, don't they?
"So you goin' or what?"
Cas nods with that small smile still tugging at his lips and grabs his jacket. He hands Dean his leather jacket that he almost forgot in the haste and they head out to Dean's Impala. Dean explained how careful Cas has to be and how he should treat Baby like a lady, not only because John barely ever lends her to Dean and would kill him if anything happened to her, but also because she's the only love of Dean's life and without her he'd die.
Dean smiles and caresses the wheel of his Baby before he steps on the pedal and follows Cas's directions to the local movie theatre.
The ride is mostly silent as Castiel takes the car in. He's never been in a car before. He simply flies everywhere, or walks in cases where he could be seen by humans. This, however, is something different. It doesn't feel like walking or flying or anything he's experienced before. There's a strange rush pulsing through his body as the wind strokes his face and Dean plays one of his father's tapes. Castiel doesn't recognize the song—how could he, really?—but it doesn't matter. It suits the situation perfectly.
The ride ends sooner than Castiel would like to. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, Dean watches him with an expression mixed with amusement and curiosity.
"I suppose you like the car?" Dean chuckles breathlessly.
In reality, he can barely manage to speak. Cas looks so relaxed and alive for a moment that Dean's breath hitches. The setting sun conjures up a halo behind Cas's head and the sight is nothing short of beautiful. If Dean didn't know better, he'd believe that Cas is actually an angel. That is ridiculous, of course, and Dean's thoughts are also ridiculous, and everything he's been thinking for the past few seconds is fucking ridiculous, and he just needs to stop, goddammit.
"Yes," Cas blinks as if he just woke up from a dream and wasn't sure whether it truly happened or not.
"Maybe we could do this again," slips from Dean's mouth before he can stop it. "Go for a drive, I mean."
"I would enjoy that very much, Dean."
Oh, for Christ's sake, just stop staring and get out of the car, you dumbass, Dean reprimands himself. He nods for the last time and practically sprints out of the car, if such thing was possible.
Cas follows his suit immediately, sending a quick prayer to his father to assure that this is the last night with Dean. He wasn't lying when he said he'd enjoy another ride with him. He would enjoy doing anything with Dean again, which might turn into a big problem soon. Growing close to humans isn't against the rules, but it does lead to romantic feelings sometimes, and Castiel prefers to avoid that. Either way, Castiel will have to leave Dean as soon as he completes his mission, and bringing himself the pain of caring about the Winchester would be masochistic.
"Two tickets for Ransom," Dean smiles at the middle-aged woman with the most bored expression he's ever seen. In an attempt not to stare at her giant mole (probably failing miserably), he turns to Cas.
"Please," Castiel adds as an afterthought when he realizes that Dean doesn't intend to exercise his manners.
Dean shakes his head and rolls his eyes but can't stop the tiny smile that Cas's politeness brings to his face. It's kind of adorable.
"It don't start 'til 7:30, boys," the woman drawls in a thick Southern accent. "Is that a'ight?"
Oh god, no, that's sure as hell not alright. Dean hoped to sit down in the dark theatre, swallow his popcorn like there's no tomorrow, and endure the movie in silence. It wouldn't be necessary to speak to Cas at all. Maybe he might utter some comment about how "this scene is incredibly badass" or how "Gibson's totally killing it." Now he would be forced to spend about an hour with Cas and come up with conversational topics. It's like the universe is conspiring against him.
Castiel doesn't let Dean voice his doubts and quickly replies to the employee. "Yes, that is alright."
She nods and offers them the seats all the way in the back. Dean is about to point out that they're definitely not sitting in the make-out row, but Cas beats him to it and nods enthusiastically. Either this kid is socially deprived and doesn't know what the backseats are reserved for, or he does know and doesn't care. Dean's not sure which option scares him more.
It stinks like a date.
"That'll be ten dollars, boys," the woman announces.
Dean opens his mouth to let her know that they will pay separately; however, by then Cas is already handing her a few crumped bills.
"Cas, no," Dean insists, "I'll pay my own ticket."
Cas shakes his head. "Nonsense. I invited you to come with me, and it is therefore my responsibility to pay for you."
Dean's stubborn set of jaw twitches as he prepares to tell Cas that he's perfectly capable to pay his own goddamn ticket, thankyouverymuch, yet something in Cas's intense gaze tells him to let it go.
And yep, this definitely stinks like a date, alright.
Dean tries to come up with a way to thank Cas without actually saying it and ends up with a, "I'll pay next time," which is a dumb thing to say since there'll be obviously no next time.
Cas smiles again—and that's becoming a little bit too frequent for a guy who barely ever changes his face expression—and reaches for Dean's wrist. His hand is cold to the point that it burns Dean (what's the physics behind that anyway?), but he doesn't flinch or move away. He should, absolutely. He shouldn't enjoy Castiel's touch or imagine those long fingers touching other places. He shouldn't be hanging out with Cas at all. He shouldn't be doing lots of things, but here he is. So fuck everything, he's just going with the flow.
Cas tugs at Dean's arm and prompts him to follow. It'd be about time to let go of his wrist if Castiel knew anything about personal space, but he doesn't, and so the burning skin under his fingers doesn't bother him. He strides with purpose and everyone in his way moves away as soon as they notice him.
He finally halts in front of a tiny diner just a few feet away from the theatre.
"I figured you would be hungry."
Dean grins. "When am I not hungry?"
As soon as they sit down in a booth, a cute waitress greets them and hands them menus. Dean smiles at her flirtatiously, but somehow feels like a dick for hitting on the waitress in front of Cas, and looks away immediately.
Castiel seemingly misses (or chooses to ignore) the interaction and studies the menu for about ten minutes before deciding that he'll order the same as Dean (bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake). At least he's not going through his vegetarian phase like Sammy.
Initially, the conversation is a little bit awkward. The first date atmosphere engulfs Dean completely. Come on, dinner and movies? He's done much less to get laid. This must be level three hundred on a one to ten relationship scale. Maybe it wasn't Cas's intention, but they ended up being on a date whether he wants it or not.
And Dean might or might not kinda like it. Kinda.
"Oh wow, how many siblings do you even have?" Dean exclaims when Cas finishes his story about the fight between Anna, Uriel, and Balthazar.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he realizes that they're talking about family. That was the topic that Dean successfully avoided for the past week. Confiding each other tales about their families definitely signifies friendship, and friendship definitely leads to pain once that Dean takes off to another town. Friends are a dangerous business and yet… Dean can't bring himself to care.
"Many," Cas replies vaguely.
Dean fixes Castiel with a glare that might either mean 'I absolutely understand that you don't want to talk about this' or 'I ain't gonna put up with your bullshit, just tell me.' Cas assumes it's most likely the second one and continues.
"My Father has more children than you could count."
"Oh," Dean nods, "womanizer, I see."
"From what I've heard, so are you," Cas slurps his milkshake nonchalantly.
Dean knows it true, but the way Cas says it bothers him. "How would you know?"
"Gabriel caught you kissing Sally Keener in the janitor's closet yesterday, and I know for fact that she's not your girlfriend." Castiel pauses and narrows his eyes as he bites a french fry. "Then, of course, you were also caught having sexual intercourse with Jason Gilborn in the boys' bathrooms on Tuesday, so I suppose 'womanizer' is not the proper term."
"Hey," Dean huffs, feeling the blush creeping on his cheeks. "I'm an equal opportunist, ain't nothing wrong with that."
"I never said there was."
Catching the glint in Cas's eyes, Dean's pretty fucking sure that there isn't – and if there was something wrong with, he wouldn't give a crap.
After that, the conversation flows. Dean spills some things that he'd rather take back if he had the chance; nonetheless, Cas never seems to notice. He speaks with a certain sesquipedalianism that doesn't sound quite as condescending as it probably would if anyone else adopted it, and it leaves Dean mesmerized. That should be illegal. Also Cas's lips, preferably. Actually, Cas should be illegal, period.
They get so caught up in the conversation that they almost miss the beginning of the movie. At 7:28, Dean glances at his watch between hiccups caused by excessive laughing (everything was ten times funnier when said by Cas with that solemn expression of his), slaps some money on the table, grabs Cas's wrist much like Castiel has done before, and runs for his life. Thankfully, they make it just after the trailers begin.
At least there was no awkwardness while buying the popcorn since they didn't manage that. Dean couldn't deal with another 'who's paying' moment. Thankfully, Cas hasn't mentioned how Dean paid for their food. Now they're even.
Throughout the movie, Dean casts quick glances at Cas (just to see his reaction, obviously), who's staring at the big screen with wide eyes. Sometimes he pokes Dean's ribs and whispers, "Did you see that?!" only to shush him when he tries to reply.
The movie is pretty good, but Dean's honestly more entertained by Castiel's reactions.
Even as they leave the movie theatre, Cas is still blinking rapidly and discussing his favorite moments in a monotone voice that doesn't match his word choice at all.
"…which was absolutely unreasonable. Aren't humans fascinating?"
"Huh?" Dean snaps out of his thoughts.
"You have the attention span of a goldfish, Dean," Cas shakes his head as he fasts the seatbelt.
Dean shrugs and starts the car, not bothering with a seatbelt. After all, John never does either. He inserts a tape in the cassette player, losing himself in the story of how the bulldog lost his bite and his breath has gone bad, and the whole damn world is really laughin' mad.
This time, Dean avoids looking at Cas. He's surely just as stunned and breathless as before, and… nothing against him, but Dean doesn't want to see it again. It's just dawning on him that he allowed himself to go on a date with a guy that he genuinely likes and cares about, which is taboo. He can't lose control like that.
As soon as he parks in front of Cas's house, he forgets why it was such a big deal.
Cas licks his lips and hopes to God that Dean finally catches the hint. He stares directly in Dean's bright green eyes with what he hopes looks like lust.
"Thank you, Dean," he leans a little bit closer. "I've thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight."
Dean gulps, flicking his eyes away from Cas's mouth. "No problem."
He doesn't move and Cas takes that as a permission to move even closer. He can already feel Dean's breath on his lips when Dean turns his head.
"Uh, well, I should get home," he stutters. "Sammy is pro'ly all alone and God knows if he ate somethin'."
Cas almost punches him in the nose and takes him without consent, but somehow he manages to smile and breathe, "of course." Unfortunately, he can't keep the annoyed grunt in his mouth.
He mumbles his 'bye' and runs to his house (when did he start thinking about this building as his house?) before Dean can say something else.
For a promiscuous man, Dean's surely a challenge.
A/N: Y'all should know that Ransom actually DID premiere on November 8, 1996, which makes me an awesome person who writes with historical accuracy. I haven't fucked up and gave some person an iPhone yet, and if you don't think I deserve a round of applause for that, you're wrong.