Dean tried to be involved, but he wasn't really focusing on the floor show. He was finding the ribs more interesting than the scantily clad dancer who was parading the stage to Suzi Quatro's Can the Can. She just plain wasn't doing it for him, which wasn't helping his mood any. A waitress approached him, eyes lidded and seductive smile firmly in place he glared at her until she backed off again.
Growling to himself, he threw money for the ribs on the table and left.
He wasn't gay. He just… wasn't in the mood today. The fact that he couldn't stop thinking about Crowley or his counsellor or… or even guys who looked twice at him on the street… Dammit, he wasn't gay. It was just that he was having to sort out so much stuff lately (watching out for Sam who was spending more time with his boyfriend than on his studies and pretending everything was fine, and trying to deal with the whole Crowley situation, not to mention Bobby nagging at him about going back to college) that he was confused. Once he'd ended things with Crowley, though, that would be it. End of. No more.
Wearily, he trudged over to Castiel's office and waited for his appointment. Thankfully, Castiel seemed just as distracted and annoyed as Dean was, so he didn't dwell on asking Dean how he felt. Instead, they sat either side of Castiel's desk and did breathing exercises.
"Do you feel relaxed?"
"Yes." Dean lied. He felt really awkward.
"Now, take a deep breath in, and when you exhale, I want you to express the things you would like to say to your partner."
Dean took a deep breath in, held it for a second, closed his eyes and exhaled.
"You're a dick, and you've messed up my life."
He opened his eyes to see Castiel with a curious expression, somewhere between annoyed and quietly amused.
"It's… Well, I'm sensing some aggression…"
"Shit, yeah, I'm aggressive. The guy's caused me… what was it you said… emotional trauma or something."
"Yes, he's put you in a situation which has caused trauma, but he will respond better if..?"
"If… he's treated with respect." Dean parroted, knowing exactly what Castiel was getting at. They'd covered it before.
"Yes. He demeans you because..?"
"He… expects me to be a submissive, controllable partner. So if I treat him with manners then he won't have room to manipulate."
"Exactly. So what would you like to say to him?"
"That he's a dumb-ass S.O.B if he thinks he can kick me around…"
"Dean."
"Fine… I… want him to know that I am unhappy, and that… he's… provoking conflict which I don't deserve."
"Very good. That's exactly the tone you want to convey…"
"You mean, sounding like you?"
Dean smirked, gaining himself a withering glare from Castiel.
"If it helps you…"
"You sure I can't yell at him a little?"
"No, yelling would be bad. There's a lot of hostility there, Dean."
"Dick did cost me my future."
Castiel sat up straight at this. Dean instantly regretted saying it, but sighed wearily and shrugged under the scrutiny of Castiel's analyst glare.
"What? He made it very uncomfortable for me to be in college any more. And now I can't go back."
"Why not?" Castiel sat back, his eyes intent on Dean in a way that made him feel rather warm and uncomfortable. "There are plenty of mature students who…"
"Because for one thing I can't afford it, and for another… I don't know, I just… it felt like I didn't fit right before, but now I'd fit even less. And I guess he's kind of responsible for that."
Castiel nodded, stood, and wandered over to the window. Dean watched him closely, seeing a vaguely troubled expression on his face.
"How did you do it?"
"Hm?"
"You ended it with your guy, right? How did you do it?"
"Oh, it was… very straightforward. Almost insultingly so, if I'm honest. I told him we could not continue, he said he understood… that was it."
"Seriously?"
Castiel turned a weary, awkward smile on Dean.
"I… think I misinterpreted the physical nature of the relationship for something more emotional."
"Oh, dude, that sucks."
"Yes… well, let's try something. Imagine I am your partner."
"It'll take some imagining…"
"No, stand up."
Dean stood, shrugging. He stood in front of Castiel, who rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Just saying, he's different to you. Shorter. British. Not as… nice…"
"Nice..?"
"Never mind. So what now?"
"Close your eyes," Dean did so, "and tell me whatever it is you want to tell him. Let's get all of this hostility, all of this confusion out in the open now, so that when you come to confront him, you can be clear, level-headed and determined."
"Ok."
"Ok. So imagine I am your partner, and just… let it all out."
"Well…" Dean's brow furrowed over his closed eyes, and Castiel was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing. And how easy it would be to pull themselves closer.
"Well?"
"I hate it. I hate us. I hate that you can confuse me like you do, and I know that you jerk me around for your own sick benefit but there's nothing I can do about it. And I guess I used to enjoy it, but it's always come with this sort of sick… wrongness. Like it's all a lie, and it's wrong, but I don't know what to do, and I never knew what I was supposed to do. And you preyed on that, 'cause you knew I'd never admit that someone had taken advantage of me. If I didn't hate you so much, I'd call you a goddamned evil genius."
"So why did you continue our relations?"
Dean opened one eye and looked at Castiel.
"Relations?"
"I don' know how he speaks. Just… imagine."
"Alright…" Dean closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders, taking another deep breath. "You… messed me up. I kept on hoping that we'd manage to do it right. I kept on hoping it would make sense. That's… that's why you're so damn cruel, you know? Because you'd give me just enough of a chance to hope, and then…" Dean gripped Castiel's arm, staring at the floor for a moment. Then, quickly, he pulled away, moving so he was against the opposite wall. "I don't want to do that any more. I feel stupid."
"But…" Castiel's head swam with the sudden absence of Dean, and he had to take a moment to regain his professional composure. "I think we made good progress …"
"No, OK? It's a stupid exercise. It was a dumb idea."
Castiel stared at Dean, who looked like he'd been assaulted, and nodded quietly. He sat behind his desk, looking very hard at his notes.
After a while, Dean returned to the chair behind Castiel's desk. He smiled nervously.
"So, uh… if I can't yell at him, can I punch him?"
"No. I think that would be very bad."
"Can I wait outside and cut his brake wires?"
"That would also be unwise."
"Well what if I just throw things at him?"
"Our time here is up."
"Oh come on… I'd let you punch him too. You said everyone has unresolved anger, right?"
"Goodbye, Mr. Winchester."
Dean stood, smirking as he saw the corners of Castiel's mouth crease in amusement.
"Later, Doc."
The door swung shut behind him, and Castiel grudgingly let himself smile. It was slightly annoying that the smile didn't stop for his next two clients. It got frustratingly more intense when Becky delivered a single chocolate chip muffin to him, with the note "I couldn't remember what you ordered at the fast food place, but I figured everyone likes muffins, right? Sorry for being a dick- Dean".
Becky smirked at him. Castiel blushed and shut himself in his office, the door slowly swinging closed as she called after him:
"You told me we were supposed to be professional!"
Castiel stuck his head back around the door, indignation on his face.
"We are professional. I, for one, took a Hippocratic oath and it would be an abuse of that to commence flirting with a patient."
"So you want me to hold any other baked goods he fed-exes for you?"
"Yes, thank you, Rebecca."
The door closed again.
"It's still Becky!"
(-*-)
Castiel watched Dean enter the office with the same cold assessment that he always did, his ice blue eyes surveying him with quiet ambivalence.
"Good morning, Dean. How are you today?"
Dean sat in the chair, the same as he always did, but it felt different. Bigger. Like he was shrinking even as he sat in it, the room becoming a gaping cavern of well lit, ergonomic furniture, with Castiel watching over it all. Dean shrunk.
"I'm ok."He shrugged slightly, trying to avoid his gaze. "Little tense."
"Why? You're tense, Dean. Ashamed, maybe. Why? What have you done that makes you feel so wrong in your own skin?"
"I dunno…"
"I think you do." Castiel wandered around the edge of the desk, his eyes still fixed on Dean. "I think you're lying."
"I'm not lying!"
"John said you were lying."
"My dad? How was he…"
"He was here to take Becky on a date. But that's irrelevant. Let's not talk about him, let's talk about you. Why are you lying?"
"I'm not lying, Cas, I…"
"Not to me." Castiel sighed, shooting Dean a withering glare before grabbing his shoulders. Dean was suddenly on his feet. He didn't remember standing up. Then the window was gone, and light and air and noise was pooling in, filling the room, surrounding them. Castiel was still staring into his eyes, but softer now, more gentle. "Let me show you."
And then they were kissing, tongues down each other's throats, hands fisting in each other's hair, clothes almost melting away from each other as, in the haze of light and air and noise, they let their fears and predispositions be forgotten as they became one continuous tangle of limbs, breathing the same breath, sharing passion-heated air…
"DEAN! You're going to be late, and I don't want Bobby screwing at me." Dean started awake as Sam threw a shoe at him. Dean managed to penetrate the confusing dream fug long enough to glare angrily at his brother.
"Ow. Is that how you wake your boyfriend?"
"Dean, if I woke you the way I woke Gabriel, I could be arrested. Speaking of which, dude, sheets." Sam rolled his eyes in disgust as he left Dean's room, leaving Dean to scramble to cover his morning-related shame. Stupid confusing sex dreams. Shaken, and more than a little aware of how awkward this would make the counselling session he had later that day. Not to mention how freaking weird it would make seeing Crowley that evening. Because, he realised, as he trudged to the bathroom with the grim, determined, horror of a man on death row, tonight would be the night he ended things with Crowley once and for all.