Being recently boned and reminded of exactly what his mission was, Dean left Castiel's apartment and marched on back to his car.
This left Castiel with the ludicrous amount of work he had to do.
He poured himself some coffee, sat down at his desk, and started marking papers. I he burned his way through, really tried hard, he could probably get through half of it before his appointments this afternoon.
Probably.
The apartment was oddly silent, oddly empty, with just him, his marking pen, and his colossal stack of papers.
He tried to keep his treacherous mind away from thoughts of Dean. He needed to focus.
But.
Dean.
He hadn't told Dean the real reason he was so eager to quit before the next term started. He hadn't fully expressed to Dean how desperate he was to not have that on him.
Dean had his own problems.
And it wasn't anything major, Cas could deal with it.
He'd just set himself a deadline, that was all.
After the New Year, Castiel would no longer be teaching. No more essays, no more students, no more avoiding the staff lounge because…
Just, no more.
B plus, a solid foundation, but could be expanded upon.
It had been alright for Dean. Once he'd found out, he'd never had to see Crowley again. And their relationship had been very different to begin with.
But Castiel had seen Crowley almost every day. The staff lounge, the cafeteria… even just walking from A to B on campus.
And it actually hurt.
To see the face of someone who had, even if you'd suspected it all along, betrayed you.
B, insightful, but needs further development.
Crowley had been true enough to his word. Hadn't approached Castiel, attempted to talk to him, had barely even looked at him. But he was still there. It was like having pictures of a dead man, a constant reminder of what had been, a constant invitation to feel betrayed all over again, a completely passive emotional trigger. Irritating for his lack of acknowledgement, painful for his presence at all.
C minus, watch your personal opinions getting in the way of your analysis.
No more, though. Whatever it was, however you summed it up, it wasn't going on any more.
Some would say this meant Crowley had "won", chasing Castiel out of his job.
F. Depressing.
The fact was, it had been a relationship, or Castiel had thought of it as one. And this… this was the result of the truth. The fall out. The push Castiel needed to finally admit that he hated teaching, hated marking essays, and hated, beyond all logical reasoning, hated looking out over a sea of blank faces who heard that psychology was a good career path.
A plus. A plus, A. Please take these credits and transfer to a course you actually want to be doing, psychology is clearly a waste of your talents.
His phone rang, and he answer it without looking up from the papers.
"Castiel DiAngelo's phone, whom may I say is calling?"
"Cas, guess what?" Dean's voice shot through the small amount of mental integrity Castiel had.
"What?"
"Dude, I don't know what Ellen said to him, but Gabriel's been setting up his own plan to get back with Sam. He doesn't do things by halves."
"No, no he doesn't. When you say plan..?"
"It involves renting a freaking theatre, on New Year's Eve."
"That sounds like a Gabriel plan."
"Yeah… Gabriel will probably call you in, like, ten minutes to let you in on the plan so act surprised."
"I shall practice."
Dean chuckled.
"What are you doing?"
"Marking papers."
"You sound so happy about that."
"You see, this is why I said I'd need to practice."
"Have you had breakfast?"
"No."
"Ok, if you were having breakfast, would you prefer a cinnamon bagel or a plain one?"
Castiel furrowed his brow, sitting back from his papers.
"Original?"
"With sweet filling or savoury?"
"Dean, why are you asking me about bagels?"
"Because I have a fetish. Why do you think I'm asking you about Bagels, Cas?"
"Savoury filling."
"I think… a Classic New Yorker. Alright, catch you later."
Dean hung up, and Castiel returned to his papers, slightly confused and entirely distracted. He was tempted to just give everyone a B and finish now, so he could sit there thinking about Dean guilt free for a little while.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Castiel dragged himself over, prepared to courteously dismiss any girl scouts or too-early carollers, only to be confronted with a delicious smelling paper bag thrust under his nose.
"Let's goof off today." Dean grinned.
"I have appointments this afternoon," Castiel replied, regaining his personal space from the bagels. Dean shrugged.
"This morning, then. Sam and Gabriel will be back together by New Year's, let's just… goof off."
Castiel set his features, looking for a moment like he might, just might, be able to be a serious and responsible adult.
But then Dean stepped towards him, glanced down at the floor and bit his lip, before his eyes flicked up again to meet Castiel's. He smirked.
Castiel almost visibly melted.
"You're not going to accept any negative answer, are you?"
"Nope."
Cas heaved a sigh, and took the bagels from Dean.
"I suppose it would be rude to refuse baked goods."
(-*-)
The plan, as it was, was this.
Dean, Bobby, Jo, and Ellen were to coerce Sam into attending Pamela's first solo stand up tour. Castiel and Balthazar would be backstage, providing emotional support for the opening act, AKA Gabriel. Gabriel would make a big, publically humiliating show of himself, then Sam would be taken backstage and he and Gabriel would have a big heart to heart, kiss, make up, and everyone else would get to watch a show.
That was the plan. But first, quite worryingly, came Christmas.
It was worrying, because Dean had a very finite amount of money. He managed to pick up some girly crap for Jo… socks, lip gloss, a party make-up set… plus some feminist literature, because she always appreciated that, and a lesson at a kick-boxing dojo.
For Sam, chocolate coated coffee beans, and an alarm clock that had painted on the face "time to sleep", "time to wake up" and "time to chill out" instead of numbers were the safe bets, but he had no idea what else to get. Socks, he figured, and a couple of fancy legal pads.
Bobby got a face/ass bathroom kit, Ellen would hopefully appreciate the "Southern Mama's Big Book'a'Cookin'" in the humour with which it was intended, and if not, she could join Jo at the kick-boxing lesson.
That left one person to buy for, and Dean really was clueless.
All his brain was giving him was "blue" and "psychology related". He tried to think hard, really hard.
Were they ready for sex toy related gifts? Would Cas appreciate it if they were?
He thought of the colossally burned pasta, and considered a cook book.
Season tickets for the local ice rink? Cas had enjoyed the ice hockey game…
Something personal? Monogrammed?
Cheap.
When he eventually slipped away from Zomboid Sam and made it around o Castiel's, on Christmas Eve Eve, he still wasn't sure about his gifts.
He held the wrapped gifts under Castiel's nose, not quite managing to hold eye contact.
"They suck."
Castiel raised an eyebrow, before grabbing Dean by the shoulders and walking him over to the couch. Castiel sat down next to him, taking the gifts and putting them on the coffee table before leaning forward and hugging him, brushing his lips against Dean's neck.
"I normally get three presents. One from Gabriel, one from Pamela, and one from Murdock."
"Gabriel's dog?"
Castiel kissed Dean's jaw, and then kissed him on the lips. "The fact you thought to give me a present at all means more to me than you can possibly imagine."
Dean returned the kiss, smiling.
"They're seriously crappy. But you're welcome."
Castiel smiled up at Dean, before glancing over at his gifts.
"You can open them now," Dean shrugged, "if you…"
Castiel moved surprisingly quickly, his fingers fumbling through the wrapping paper. The first gift was a pair of new ties, one a silver blue with blue diamonds over the top, and the other a novelty one, with a team of reindeer running up it. The second gift contained a season pass to the ice rink, for recreational use or t watch any of the scheduled shows. And the third gift was a poster. The picture on the poster was a landscape, one of those beautifully photographed Nordic landscapes, with a lake and icy mountains and pine trees, with blue water and blue sky.
There was a caption underneath the picture. It read "I know I'm a confused, annoying dick at times, so when I drive you crazy you can look at this and chill out."
Castiel smiled at Dean, and kissed him again.
"You don't have to pretend to like them," Dean muttered, but was silenced as Castiel kissed him again.
"I love them. They're perfect."
"Thanks… I love you, Cas."
Dean didn't have time to breathe before his mouth was full of Castiel's tongue.
Castiel finally broke away, staring into Dean's face. "Say that again."
"What…"
"You know what."
"No, come on, don't…" Dean tried to shy away, but Cas had hold of his face, and it was easy to grab him by the shoulders and hold him there. "Cas…"
"I love you, Dean." Castiel smirked. "Does that make it less embarrassing? I love everything about you, even when you're a, as you say, 'confused, annoying dick'."
"Ouch." Dean chuckled, before suddenly summoning up his courage and grabbing Castiel's shoulders, rolling them over so he was pinning Castiel. "Alright. I love you. There, I said it, happy?"
"Extremely." Castiel grinned, before patting Dean's sides and pointing to one of the drawers in the coffee table. "You have a gift too. In there. It's not… much. But, I should give it to you."
There was, inside the drawer, a brown envelope. It contained a card, inside which was a cheque.
"What's this?"
"Refunding all of the money you paid me as a psychiatrist. I would feel wrong keeping it."
"No, Cas…"
"Shh. I will not allow you to not accept it. And there's more."
Dean emptied the envelope, and found two novelty voucher books. 'The Lover's cheque book', filled with coupons for "one free kiss", "one free screw" and so on, and the other was 'The Best Friend's cheque book', including "an evening in", "an evening out", "this round's on me" and "I will listen to whatever you have to say, without answering back".
Dean couldn't really think of anything to say to that. He thumbed through the lover's cheque book.
"Dean?"
"Hang on, I want to see what I can cash right now…"