Part IX
The Compromise

As the elevator traveled between third and fourth floor, Castiel hastily bolted down the rest of the fries he had purchased from Burger King. He was licking the grease and salt from his fingers when the doors slid open. The empty carton was tossed into the nearby receptacle, and Castiel habitually glanced at himself in the mirror hanging across from the elevator doors. His hair was doing those annoying cow-lick flip ups all over the place. Castiel blamed Michael, purely for the fact that because of his brother his morning had been rushed and there had been no time to use some product to tame the unruly strands. There were also dark circles under Castiel eyes that were rimmed in red from staring at slides all day.

Altogether Castiel didn't think he made for a very attractive image.

Castiel ran desperate fingers through the inky strands a few times before giving up hope on his disobedient hair. It was show time - the moment of truth. Castiel straightened his tie and shirt collar, squared his shoulders, and headed out and down the hallway. At the far end he saw Dean standing beside his apartment door. The mere sight of the detective started a nervous flutter in Castiel's heart.

The distance closed one step at a time. The excitement and apprehension flooding his senses made the moment feel like it was prom night all over again, stretching into a seamless moment of nervous eternity. Castiel keenly watched Dean's expression for sign of approval. It should have been telling enough that the detective was there at all despite Castiel's little side trip. Yet Castiel couldn't shake the uncertain twist to his thoughts. Dean's expression wasn't revealing to his inner thoughts, and Castiel began to wonder if the detective had changed his mind after the rush of the original lust-fueled moment had passed.

Oh man – fuck – this was a mistake, a big mistake –

"What took you so long?"

Castiel's mouth fished, opening and closing as he tried to work out an explanation over the insecurity shaking his thoughts. Dean leaned close and Castiel snapped his mouth closed. It took a moment for his mind to register that Dean was sniffing at the air.

"Did you-" Dean gently took Castiel's chin, tilted it up and sniffed again, "-stop somewhere to eat?"

Castiel's jaw tensed, "Your mouth tasted like fries. It made me really hungry."

To his relief, Dean softly chuckled and tugged Castiel forward to plant a quick peck on his lips. "Dork."

Castiel once again found his mind going blank and he responded by doing little more than stare at the detective. Even well after Dean released his chin, and just fixed him with a bemused look, Castiel continued to gawk. He could hardly believe he was lucky enough to have the handsome detective right outside his apartment, stealing a light kiss from him as if they had been dating for months. It was a step forward for Castiel. After a year of inwardly wallowing about his long time boyfriend bailing on him, Castiel was finally moving on.

"Cas.. "

The day dream look cleared just enough for Castiel to let out an airy, "Yes?"

"Are you going to unlock the door?"

Heat crept up the side of Castiel's neck. He was quick to pivot and hide himself in the imaginary space between his door and the jamb next to it. Huddled there, with shoulders raised, as he fumbled with his keys. He checked the knob before he put the key to first lock, relieved to find his apartment just how he left it that morning - namely that they were still locked.

Dean's hand snaked around his waist and Castiel nearly dropped the keys. He managed to unlock the dead bolt, but as he jammed the key into the knob, Castiel's hand slipped. He palmed the wood of the door to keep from being pressed flush against it due to Dean leaning into him. The detective slipped his hand under Castiel's rumpled shirt that had been left undone from their earlier encounter. There fingertips curled against Castiel's tightened abdomen before wandering up as far as the buttoned fabric would allow.

Castiel bit into the flesh of his hand to keep from making any sounds. The reaction had little to do with the fact they were in the hallway and neighbors were likely to overhear such a tell-tale sound. It had everything to do with being conditioned to stay quiet. When he was younger it had started with less than tactful make-out sessions that had gotten heavy and having to cover his own mouth to make sure his parents or brother didn't hear him through the walls. His ex had a habit of climbing into his window in the middle of the night; being quiet was always necessary. Of course, Lucifer had always taken it as a challenge, and damn if the man didn't take enjoyment out of biding his time to manipulate each and every sound out of Castiel - slowly making him unravel into complete submission.

Dean seemed to be of a similar mindset, because even though Castiel did little to encourage the wandering hand, the detective was intimately aware of the way Castiel was resisting. The tensing of muscles, the hitching of breath, and the utter inability to do anything other than brace himself against the door. Inside, they needed to get inside. Castiel blindly reached down to fumble with the key and the knob to little success. It was Dean's free hand that finally came through for sanctity of the hallway and Castiel's neighbors. The detective had much more motor control functionality while under pressure than Castiel, because it only took Dean one twist to get the knob unlocked and for the door to swing open.

Castiel stumbled forward in a twist of limbs as he attempted to turn about to face the detective. His hands didn't know what to do, first he grabbed at Dean to make sure he didn't stray, pulling the man into a clumsy kiss as he tried to remove his own clothing and Deans at the same time. Inwardly Castiel laughed at himself, chiding his eagerness after being in such a long dry spell. He should conduct himself with more composure than this.

Perhaps he might have thought about taking his time if there weren't already hands divesting him of his overcoat and working on loosening his tie. Dean struggled with the knot and Castiel was about to suggest he leave the tie on when Dean turned his head toward the living room. "You got a new tv?"

"No," Castiel responded absently while trying to draw Dean's lips back to his own.

"You got it fixed?"

Here Castiel blinked - who the hell cared about the television! - then growled his frustration, "No."

As he stared at the detective's face, Castiel became aware of the change in lighting. A shift from bright to dark and an constant flickering that could only be attributed to a playing television. His attention swiveled appropriately to the living room to see that indeed not only was there a tv on, but it had also doubled in size. A pair of socked feet were poking out from over the arm of the couch.

Damn it all, if Michael thought he was crashing here—!

Stalking over to the couch, Castiel readied himself to nastily tell his older brother to get lost. He rounded the back of the couch and froze at the sight that greeted him. He literally halted on the spot as if weighted in lead and would have sworn he felt his heart come to a screeching halt as well. All systems malfunctioning. The only thing that did seem to work were Castiel's eyes, and the dark blue orbs scanned the man sleeping on his couch from head to two several times.

Lucifer.

And on his chest, curled and also sleeping, mini-Lucifer.

Traitorous cat, Castiel griped to himself as his features slowly shifted from shock, to vexation, to discontent. It was decided, his apartment was the nexus of everything plotting to give him a psychological breakdown. Seriously. There were issues in his past that he didn't handle well, and this week everything was getting dredged up from the metaphorical lake he had sunk them and being thrown sopping wet into his lap. Then there was the little fact that everyone was coming and going in his apartment like he was having an open house. Christ. He was getting the locks changed first thing tomorrow.

Dean came up behind Castiel, took one glance at the man on the couch before turning on the nearby lamp. As the light flooded the room, casting light to Lucifer's dozing features, Castiel couldn't help but notice the detective's hand resting on his gun. A nervous twinge drew Castiel's gaze back to Dean's expression before he edged between the two men in hopes of keeping the situation from escalating into violence.

It wasn't easy dating a high profile criminal.

Lucifer wasn't on the FBI's most wanted list, but only because they couldn't pin him with any crime. Not for lack of trying of course. Lucifer always managed to walk free like an untouchable mafia don. Dean shot a glare at Castiel, and the dark haired man let his gaze fall to the floor in guilt. He didn't know exactly what Dean might be mad at him for, but there were plenty of plausible theories he could toss on the table.

"You're home," Lucifer's soft voice sent a chill down Castiel's spine. It was good to hear, too good, but the feeling that welled up in his chest was pain. Hurt. It hurt to hear that voice after so long. Lucifer's long legs bent and settled on the floor. Castiel looked at the man's socks from the corner of his eyes, too wary to meet the man's pale blue eyes. "And with company."

Castiel flicked a glance up at Dean as his guilt continued to build. It was a confusing sort of guilt, because Castiel was caught on the fence between the two men and he felt apologetic toward them both. The worst part of it, other than feeling like a piece of crap over the fact he couldn't lean one way or another to pick a side, was that he felt pathetic enough to feel like he was cheating on Lucifer with Dean.

Sinking with his mood, Castiel sat on the edge of the couch arm and began to cover his face with his hands when he felt arms twine around his waist from behind. Lucifer was up on his knees, leaning into Castiel to set his chin on the smaller man's shoulder. "I thought about making dinner, but didn't know when you'd get home. Do you normally work this late?"

Castiel's mouth opened, but it was Dean that replied, "Do you normally break into apartments?"

Lucifer's arms coiled more possessively around Castiel as his pale gaze shifted to the detective that had yet to move his hand away from his gun. "I guess that depends on whether or not Castiel wants to press charges."

"Well how 'bout I just take you into custody just to stick to protocol."

"It's fine," Castiel grumbled while freeing himself from Lucifer's grasp. "It's not a problem."

He felt sick. He'd spent a good portion of their relationship together providing an alibi for the man. It was second nature to him by this point, but never had Castiel felt like he was being torn in half. That every word out of his mouth, and action of his body, was betraying those closest to him.

"I noticed your t.v. was broken," Lucifer commented with nonchalance, "So I had someone bring by a new one, hope you don't mind."

Castiel curiously narrowed his eyes at Lucifer, wondering at the man's game. It wouldn't have been surprising to have walked into the apartment to find the whole place cleaned and all the broken furniture replaced. Lucifer had the means and the willing bodies to set it right and put Castiel's mind at ease. It was something the man was good at, and it made it all that more difficult to be angry at him.

That he only replaced the television, however, was a curious move. Castiel wanted to think Lucifer had the tact to not immediately try and sweep him off his feet when he had been gone a full year. But considering he was here uninvited and hugging him like they were still together told a different story. There had to be an angle Lucifer was working in all of this, because if there was one thing Castiel knew about his ex-boyfriend, it was that Lucifer never did anything without reason.

"You didn't need to do that," Castiel muttered, refusing to be thankful. "I would have done it myself."

Dean chose that moment to clear his throat.

Lucifer lounged against the couch cushions, "So who's your friend?"

It never occurred to Castiel that introductions could be so difficult. Where did he even begin introducing the two to each other? Hey, meet my ex-boyfriend who may be rumored to lead a radicalist group that did anything and everything to thwart the government from cheating the people.

As for Dean, well, at the moment Castiel dejectedly thought of the detective as his 'pre ex boyfriend'.

"Nick this is Dean, a co-worker. Dean this is Nick my... ex."

"I don't recall breaking up."

"You left," Castiel snapped under his breath.

"I invite you to come with me."

"I shouldn't have to leave everything I worked for just because you ran into trouble."

"I couldn't stay, you know that."

"You left. I stayed. It was a break up."

"Well," Lucifer's voice was always calm, leaning toward indifference with just a hint of patronizing. "Don't you think it should be more mutual?"

"It's called getting dumped, jackass" Dean broke in.

Castiel ducked his head, ashamed, and partially surprised Dean hadn't taken the opportunity to duck out of the apartment during the lover's spat. Lucifer merely smiled at the detective, a playful glint to his eyes. His attention remained on the detective, but his words were all for Castiel. "Did you dump me, Castiel?"

"I... " No, he hadn't. Castiel had always viewed it as Lucifer left him. Charlie had been right in saying that he had been making excuses - keeping himself available in case Lucifer came back. Wow. He officially felt like the world's most pathetic person. Shaking his head in defeat (and absently giving answer to Lucifer's nearly rhetorical question) Castiel plopped down on the couch and buried his face into his hands.

"Man, you really are one helluva piece of work."

Castiel lifted his head, fearing the worst and oddly relieved that Dean was glaring daggers at Lucifer, not him. Then in the next moment he felt annoyed, because he doubted Dean knew the first thing about Lucifer. He had a bad reputation, no doubt, but a man's reputation and character were two very different things.

Lucifer hummed before wrinkling his nose, tone pretentious, "Is this were I stoop to school yard insults and say I'm rubber, you're glue, whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you?"'

Oh God, Castiel dragged his hands over his face, make it stop.

"Oh don't trouble yourself sugaring it up, Lucifer, you can just skip right to the death threats."

"Testy one, aren't you. I thought all you suits were suppose to be calm under pressure. Although Michael always tended to lose his temper around me as well.."

"Dean's a detective," Castiel muttered in case anyone cared to listen. "Not a Fed."

"Oh right," A smile could be heard in Lucifer's tone. "Detective."

"You can take that smug ass smile and—"

"You know what–" Castiel cut in, abruptly standing from the couch. "I'm going to go lock myself in the bathroom and try to hang myself with my shower curtain. So if you two could try and not break anything while you finish this pissing contest, I'd appreciate it."

As a last minute decision Castiel scooped up the white blob of kitten off the couch before making for the bathroom.

"Look at what you did," He heard Dean snap at Lucifer.

"He doesn't like conflict," Came the simple reply.

True to his word, Castiel locked the door even knowing it wouldn't keep either man out. The voices were muffled through the thin door, growling and low enough to suggest they had purposely dropped their voices so that Castiel wouldn't hear them. Whatever, as long as they didn't kill each other, Castiel would find a way to be content with that fact. He just couldn't take being in the same room with them any longer. He needed a little time to himself to think, to sort it all out because it was all complicated, right?

Castiel frowned at the kitten in his hands, as if the white devil would have the answer he needed.

Climbing into the tub, Castiel laid out as comfortable as possible with the idea he might be there for a while. Little Lucifer stretched out across his sternum and instantly set about purring. The vibrating noise was comforting, and as Castiel stroked the kitten's soft fur, he felt a little calmer.

"He could have called," Castiel confided to the kitten. "He just left and never called."

Logically Castiel could reason that it was highly possible that the FBI kept his lines tapped in case Lucifer contacted him. No, Castiel slumped further in the tub while rubbing a hand along his brow, he shouldn't be justifying it. Except, maybe he should have gone with Lucifer. He loved the man - shouldn't he have been willing to drop everything to go with him?

It hadn't been a life Castiel wanted to live. The things that Lucifer got involved with in his passionate desire for justice in the world. Castiel use to have this romantic view of Lucifer as a vigilante, willing to take the risks and make the sacrifices to avenge those that had been wronged. He still was that man, but Castiel didn't like some of the choices Lucifer had made over the years.

"I asked him to stop," The kitten purred louder in response to Castiel's voice. "I just wanted to be with him without all that burden that came with the crap that comes with his stuff. I lost count how many times we had to move, but you know, we never had to leave the country."

Therapy in a tub, Castiel silently mocked himself, and he was spilling out his heart to a cat.

A gentle tapping came from the locked door, and Castiel could easily imagine Lucifer on the other side, leaning against the frame with one arm and softly rapping the back of his knuckles against the door. The mental image pulled at Castiel's heart strings. He couldn't lie - he missed Lucifer and at that moment he wanted to wrap his arms around his ex and bury his face into the man's chest.

"Castiel."

Yet he was afraid, because although he could hear Lucifer's soft tone on the other side of the door, he couldn't bring himself to go to the man. Dean was out there and.. well, Castiel liked Dean. He didn't know what was there between himself and the detective, but there was a desire to pursue it. He didn't want to lose his chance with Dean because of the complicated situation he had with Lucifer.

"Will you come out?"

Castiel softly snorted, "Did you two kiss and make up?"

There was silence on the other side of the door, and out of curiosity Castiel sat up far enough to peer blue eyes over the rim of the tub. The gap along the bottom of the door revealed two separate movements. The reason behind the play of shadows became more obvious when Castiel heard Dean's growling tone.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not kissing you."

Lucifer's voice murmured something too low for Castiel to decipher. Dean responded with a growl of cursing. He then knocked on the door, his own a firm knocking that lightly rattled the door. "Com'on Cas, don't be like this."

"Castiel," Lucifer had always liked the full version of Castiel's name. "We could sit and watch a movie if you like."

His interest perked, "All of us?"

Dean's voice weighed heavily with reluctance, "I'm not leaving you here alone with this bastard."

"How sweet," cooed Lucifer.

"Shut up."

Tucking the kitten to his chest, Castiel crawled out of the tub and crept over to the door. He twisted the lock open and cracked open the door to glance between the men leaning against opposite sides of the doorway. Both pairs of eyes, one pale blue and the other sea green, honed intently on Castiel, making his mouth go dry. He licked his lips, drawing in a breath to rebuild his composure. "Kiss."

Lucifer smiled, amused, but Dean's brow wrinkled in bewilderment. "What?"

"Show me you're going to stop fighting."

"By kissing him?"

Castiel did his best not to smirk. The silence whittled at Dean's composure, and slowly the detective shifted his weight and cast a wary glance at Lucifer. There was something predatory about the way Lucifer calmly met Dean's uncertain gaze. "What do you say, Dean, are you willing to put away the gun and place nice?"

Dean rubbed fingers across his lips, and for a moment Castiel thought the detective was actually considering kissing Lucifer. Castiel wasn't all that sure how he felt about that. Curious, mostly, which was a great deal better than feeling his heart sinking into a pit of despair while he was in the tub.

"Fine, we'll watch a movie," Dean grunted before pointing a finger at Lucifer's face, "but no kissing."

Things to Know
1.) Castiel's apartment is like an opened gateway into hell. Chaos happens there, and Castiel is certain the forces are working against him to prevent him from getting laid.
2.) Lucifer has the advantage of knowing Castiel for ten years. It's like having the home team advantage. Dean needs to step up his game.
3.) Lucifer is sort of like Tyler Durden in Fight Club. Without the crazy.
4.) What do you think about Polyamory?