Grease Monkeys and Orange Aprons

Chapter 2: Wings and Names

Song of the Chapter: Back In Black- AC/DC

I've been told that this Castiel is like Angel!Cas and 2014!Cas mixed together…you're pretty much right…but no orgies…*le sad face*

Alright, enjoy the chapter!

Castiel stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed and more than a little giddy. He was excited for work, more so than usual. He swiped a hand across the steam clouded bathroom mirror, catching a glimpse of himself through the small streak. He retrieved his glasses from the counter, slipping them over his eyes and finding comfort in the light pressure on his nose.

As the fog began to dissipate, more and more of Castiel's body was revealed to himself. He didn't know why but he paid attention today, scrutinizing his body in a way that made even him uncomfortable. He still couldn't see what others saw, all his self-consciousness and insecurities made sure of that.

He thought his hair was okay, even if it always resembled sex hair. Gabriel constantly commented on it, telling him how jealous he was of his mop of dark hair and fawned over his 'sexiness'. Castiel always listened with half an ear, not believing a word that came out of his brother's mouth.

Then there was the small, silver earring he wore in his left ear. It had been his mother's and she'd worn it with everything. It had been given to him in her will. He only had one ear pierced so he kept the other earring and had it fashioned to fit around a chain. He wore that earring every day, in the shower, if he went swimming (which was a rarity), playing sport (again, another rarity). He wasn't much of a sports fan.

When he was in high school, he was almost always skins and it was a miracle if he made it on shirts. It had made him uncomfortable the way the other students had stared at his body, most did so with subtle glances, others would openly gawk. People just couldn't get over the fact that a sixteen year old had tattoos, and with as many as Castiel had, it must have been shocking.

A few tattoos is three, maybe four. Castiel had eight and was thinking of getting a ninth.

The first tattoo he ever got was when he was fourteen. He'd wanted something special, a symbol that meant something. That meant something to him. So, he'd asked the tattoo artist for wings. To symbolize his mother and father and his younger brother, Lucifer. They were all in heaven by then, angels that were watching from above.

The wings were etched in black ink and they took up the space from his shoulders to his lower back. They curved inward until the feathers at the very tip of either wing touched. He was proud of that tattoo; it meant so much to him.

Beneath the wings were three names:

Lucifer Collins
1993-1999

Annabelle Collins
1964-1993

Michael Collins
1962-1998

Castiel missed them all. But he still had Gabriel and, on occasion, Balthazar.

Castiel felt the tears threatening to spill and shook his head, hoping to rattle his depressing thoughts loose.

As Castiel wrapped a towel around his waist, he saw the tattoo on his side. In Russian characters were the words 'We'll meet again someday'. Another reference to his family. Another favorite of his.

Gabriel hadn't bat an eyelash at all the tattoos Castiel was having etched into his skin. Gabe had a few of his own, but not nearly as large and not nearly as many as Castiel.

Castiel glanced at his watch; it read 4:00 A.M. He would have to continue this self-inspection later; he was going to be late for work.

"So, what'd you two talk about?" Gabriel asked, leaning against the rack of balsa wood. That was his way of being subtle.

"Nothing much," Castiel said quietly, rearranging the wood so it wouldn't fall out and crush some poor elderly woman and her grandchildren. Yes, that had happened before and it still gave Castiel shivers. Speaking of shivers, he was starting to get the shakes. He hadn't had a smoke since yesterday after talking to Dean. He needed one right now, bad.

Gabriel huffed, displeased by Castiel's answer. He'd been hoping for details pertaining to a hot make-out session in the smoker's corner. No such luck.

"Gabe, cover for me. I need a smoke," Castiel told his older brother, who glared at him, attempting to burn holes in his forehead. Castiel smirked and walked away, rummaging in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.

Castiel stepped outside into the March air, relishing in the feel of the still-chilly zephyr. Due to the sun not having risen yet, the street lamps were still casting a dim glow about the parking lot, turning everything orange and black and yellow. Castiel would have loved take a picture of it, but his camera was safe at home, sleeping inside its carrying case.

Castiel dug in his pockets for a lighter and to his dismay, yet again, found none. "Son of a bitch!" Castiel cursed, running a hand through his hair, frustrated. He needed a cigarette like, yesterday.

"Need a hand?"

Castiel turned around and saw Dean leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching Castiel's quiet 'freak out'. Castiel grinned.

"My hero," he said, copping a southern drawl. He caught the lighter mid-air, nodding his thanks to Dean. Castiel let out a deep groan as the smoke filled his lungs and strangely, cleared his head. He lazily breathed out the smoke, watching it curl away from his mouth and up into the dark morning sky.

"My pleasure," Dean replied, holding his hand up and catching the lighter easily as Castiel tossed it back. Dean lit his own fag and hummed what sounded suspiciously like an AC/DC song. Castiel raised an eyebrow, watching Dean from his little corner. The coverall clad man had his eyes closed, a pleasant smile tilting the corners of his mouth. Castiel took this as his chance to really look at Dean. Castiel leant back against the brick building his free hand in his pocket, his other holding his cigarette.

Turns out, it was an AC/DC song. Back In Black, to be precise.

Castiel's eyes wandered over his face, the light dusting of freckles, his perfect nose, and those perfect lips. Oh, how Castiel was beginning to like Dean's lips. And now, those gorgeous lips were moving, but those beautiful green eyes stayed shut.

"Are you done eye raping me?" Dean asked casually, taking a drag from his cigarette. Castiel's eyes never left Dean's face.

He shrugged lazily. "Not quite. Nice taste in music, by the way," Castiel added, tapping his ash to the cracked sidewalk.

"Didn't peg you for a classic rock kinda guy," said Dean, rolling his head to the side to look at Castiel. He grinned at the blue-eyed, sex-haired man.

"There's plenty you don't know about me," Castiel said, waggling his eyebrows. "And it's only on occasion. I'm more into sixties rock. Pink Floyd is definitely a trip when you're high," said Castiel wistfully. It'd been a while, but he still remembered how elated and free he'd felt last time he let himself have any fun. Which was about five years ago. Damn Gabriel and his persuasiveness.

Dean's eyebrows were in his hairline and struggling to find purchase above his head. "I guess not," Dean said, turning his head back and taking one last pull from his fag then dropping it to the ground before snuffing it with his boot. "You're a mystery, Cas." With that, Dena turned and walked back into the auto-shop, leaving Castiel to stare longingly at his vacant spot.

Castiel gazed at Dean from his perch on the auto-lift. He was supposed to be re-stocking the Quik Cement, but he'd only gotten about two bags actually on the shelf in the forty-five minutes he'd been up there. One had fallen and scared the shit out of Gabriel by exploding at his feet.

The others were sitting in a pile beside Castiel, like a mountain of laundry that needed to be done, but had an unlikely chance of that actually happening.

Castiel let out a sigh; a girly, obsessed-over-Taylor-Lautner-pansy-shit-sigh (Castiel personally was in love with Kellan Lutz, but that's a story for another time). Castiel closed his eyes and turned away from the sight of Dean's bare back, the top half of his coveralls having been undone in an attempt to cool off in the persistent heating of the depot.

He heaved a bag onto his shoulder and slid it carefully onto the orange painted, diamond grated shelf. Normally, he'd be whistling the Smurf's work song, he loved his job so much, but right now, all he could think about was Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Fuck, he was so screwed.

"You've got it bad, Cassy."

Castiel jumped and nearly fell over the railing of the auto-lift. As he righted himself, he felt his left eye twitch, which only happened when he was extremely pissed off; which he was.

"Dammit, Gabriel!" Castiel hissed. "You scared the Hell outta me!" Castiel pushed his glasses up his nose.

Gabriel just grinned like an idiot. "I so saw this coming. You've got the hots for grease monkey, Winchester," he commented, looking pointedly behind Castiel at the shirtless Dean that Castiel had been praying had gone.

"I do not," he said defensively and knew he sounded like he was ten years old.

"Uh-huh, sure you don't. Just remember, be safe." And with that, Gabriel hoisted himself over the railing and used the rungs of the lever to 'Tarzan It' down to the floor. Castiel watched him go, his face going bright red from his brother's words. And of course, the one thing that had been clouding his thoughts for the past oh, twenty-four hours, waltzed over, shirtless.

"Cas! Hey, Cas! Come on down here! There's someone I want you to meet!" Dean called, waving the red, grease stained rag in the air. Castiel sucked in his breath and flicked the switch that levered the auto-lift down. Dean grinned at Castiel when he touched down. A boy stood by his side.

"Cas," Dean said. "This is my brother, Sammy."

The boy stuck out his hand. "It's Sam," he said, his shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes. For only twelve years old, the kid was almost as tall as Dean, and muscle was starting to become evident. Ah, puberty…let's just say Castiel was glad he was twenty-four now.

"Nice to meet you, Sam." Castiel shook his hand and the kid's mood seemed to brighten a bit. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?" It really wasn't Castiel's place to ask, but he needed to say something instead of look like an imbecile. So, he chose to stick his foot in his mouth. Smart.

"He got in a fight," Dean said, his tone sounding like he was trying to be stern. But Castiel heard the undertone of pride in his voice.

"But I won. And that douchebag, Crowley, started it-"

"Sam! Language!" Dean snapped. Sam's brown eyes widened, then he looked down at his floppy-soled, no longer white, trainers.

"Sorry," he muttered. Dean's face softened and he put an arm around his little brother.

"S'okay, Sammy. Here, go buy yourself a soda and a candy bar," Dean said, handing him a five dollar bill. Sam took it from his brother's hand like it was a fragile piece of china.

Sam's wide eyes looked up at Dean. "Really?" he asked, excited. Dean smiled and nodded. Sam practically skipped away, the kid was so happy.

Castiel watched him go with a small smile, barely perceptible, turning the corners of his lips. "You're brother's adorable. What happened to you?" Castiel joked.

Dean laughed. "Inhaled exhaust one too many times?" Castiel smiled. He noticed Dean watching his lips.

"What?"

"You should smile more," Dean commented. They were silent for a moment. "Do you know anything about cars?"

Castiel looked at his feet. "A little. Gabriel's taught me a few things he learned from Dad, but that's about it. Why?"

"Just curious. Want to come take a look at my car? I've been trying to teach Sam lately…but he kinda sucks at that kind of thing," Dena said, a lopsided smile turning his lips.

"I could teach him the way Gabriel taught me. What's Sam like to do?"

"He's a great artist. He loves to draw."

Castiel broke into a wide smile. "Perfect."

Here we are second chapter! Thanks sooo much for all your reviews! They mean a lot and they feed my Muse, who is freakin' PMS'ing right now. She's whining, hungry and bitchy as Hell.

Oh and, I was wondering if anyone would mind doing a banner for The Innocent or for this story? Maybe a little FanArt? I'd really like to see what some of you would come up with. (:

Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.

Feelings of an almost HUMAN nature,
Dublin O'Malley

XOXOX