Simple Pleasures ~ Chapter 8
Dean debated for six hours the ramifications of jerking off prior to this date with Castiel. If he did, then he might be more relaxed during the date, less likely to do something carnal and stupid. But what if the date wound up defining itself on being carnal and stupid? If he jacked off ahead of time then he might not have all the 'juice' he wanted for such an encounter.
This conversation bounced back and forth inside his skull, occasionally adding on new arguments and counter arguments, until he couldn't take it anymore. At quarter-past six, Dean found himself panting, smiling, wet, and clean on the bottom of his shower, his mind floating on the hot water and steam. Every few moments his brain tried to serve him that chaser of guilt, but fantasy Cas would push it away before straddling Dean's hips… and this was the reason Dean was so often stuck on WANT.
"Bi," Dean whispered. It still sounded strange in his mouth. Was that the right label to use? Was there another that was more appropriate? "Bi," He said again. Yup, still weird.
Dean eventually pulled himself out of his shower, dried off, and got ready for the - oh shit. Date. This was happening. When was the last time Dean had gone out on a date? He grimaced at his mirror reflection; three years at least. Granted, that was excluding the handful of awkward hook-ups with the occasional interested, female-bodied person, but this was a male-bodied, not hook-up situation.
"The fuck am I doing?" He hissed at his reflection. What would he even do on a date with Cas? Go to a bar, get drunk watching the Jayhawks kill the Tigers, and then tap that ass? Something told him that was a very stupid idea. But that was what his brain had concocted a few hours earlier when he asked him out… well, that plus the shower scene.
6:30. Maybe a gay bar? Were there any gay bars in Lawrence? Dean pictured walking into a loud, strobe light lit hole in the wall where feather boas flounced about like dancing alcoholics and… yeah, no. Baby steps on this sexuality thing.
At 6:45 Dean downed a scalding swig of whiskey and headed for the Impala. He'd just have to figure this out as he went. Maybe he'd think of something on the way?
Dean pulled up to the Obolus Café assured that that presumption was also a very stupid. He walked up to the front door with increasing torpor, muttering, "Just some idea of what I'm doin, c'mon brain, gimme somethin'…,"
He was at the door. Castiel was reaching across a table for a napkin and… he had a noticeable ass. Was it plump and perky and perfect? Nope. Did it need to be? Nope. It was nice and round and made Dean's head turn slightly to the right as a dazed grin tugged at the corner of his lips and this was oh so very yes. One JO session clearly hadn't been enough.
Castiel turned around but Dean's eyes didn't move from Cas's hips until he realized the barista was staring at him. Dean called upon his innocent smile to get him out of this. Castiel came to the door, unlocked it, and opened it. He opened his mouth to speak, but his jaw only hung limply for a few moments before he stepped out of the way, welcoming Dean in.
"Yeah, thanks," Dean said, which was followed by 'Yeah, thanks?! The fuck was that!?'
"So…," Cas said in his unusual, gravel voice. "How do you… What did you have in mind for this… date?"
"Oh, eh," Shit shit shit,"I just, uh, I thought, you know, maybe a bar? And then a movie or somethin' but it's Sunday so nothing's open, shit, so maybe..."
Dean chanced a look at Castiel. His head was only slightly tilted curiously. "I'm not sure what you just suggested."
Dean pressed his lips together as he took a deep breath, held it, and said, "Me neither."
"Dean, I should let you know something. I'm sorry I didn't mention it before, but… your invitation for a date… surprised me. I can't leave the building," Castiel said.
Dean blinked. "You can't leave?"
"That's correct," Castiel said.
"Is this like a 'I'd violate contract,' kind of thing or a 'magical soul things won't let me" kind of thing?"
"The magical option, though the first one is close." Castiel replied. "If you'd prefer to cancel this, I understand."
"…You really can't leave?"
"Yes," Castiel said.
"Hunh… so what'd happen if I picked you up and ran out the front door?"
Castiel grinned slightly. "You'd fall through the door and I'd stay in the building. Though I suspect I'd bleed profusely."
"Whoaookay, yeah, let's not do that then," Dean said.
"I'd appreciate it."
"But hey, that's alright, we can uhh… We can do stuff here."
"Not really," Castiel said wit ha wary edge. "Unless you enjoy making caffeinated drinks and talking to the dead."
"Ah," Dean said. "Got TV?"
"No… nor do I have a computer. I apologize Dean, I should have-"
"Hold on… ," Dean said, holding one finger up to stop the conversation. "I'm about to be a fuckin' genius. Just... don't go anywhere."
As he ran out the café and threw himself back into the Impala he heard Cas yell, "Because I could if I wanted to!"
Dean returned twenty minutes later, slightly out of breath and carrying a backpack. "You're gonna learn that Han shot first."
"I - - what?"
Dean pushed past Cas and into the darkened café. He had to admit, this was pretty brilliant. Cas had never seen the best movies of all time? Dean could show them to him. Once Dean found a plug for his computer charger he pulled his lap-top and set it on a wobbly table.
"…You brought your computer…," Castiel said.
"And I'm gonna use it to expose you to awesome," Dean replied. He pulled up Star Wars, Episode IV on his computer, turned it around to show Cas, and hit the play button. Castiel eyed him suspiciously for a moment before jumping at the movie's intro music.
"Star Wars…," Castiel said, peering at the computer screen. He ambled forward while squinting at the screen, his mouth moving slightly in time with the words he was reading. "This is the movie you mentioned the other day."
"Yup, good ol' Lucas digital awesome," Dean said. He waited a few moments for Castiel to say something, but the barista was already deeply engrossed in reading the scrolling introduction, and then he was lost to the opening battle. Dean sat back in his chair, leaned it against the wall, and kicked up his feet.
He could see Cas's wings in the low light of the café. Screw the movie, Dean wanted those wings. His left hand twitched where he held it, crossed over his chest, but that was as far as it traveled. A douche would reach out and try to start something after being only slightly horned up. But nope, Dean wasn't going to do that. Granted… his hook-up history left him wondering whether his idea of a douche was the only he could be one… It certainly hadn't seemed that way to Cassie.
Shit now he was thinking about Cassie. Right as Princess Leia appeared on screen. The Gods truly enjoyed torturing him… and a moment after that thought passed through Dean's mind it occurred to him that was actually a possibility. His hand found his face.
There was once a time where Dean got off on the idea of being a knight in shining armor, be it in video games or movie fantasies or fighting off the bullies that went after his brother. But Cassie was attracted to him while not being impressed by his gravitas. She wouldn't stand for physical or emotional bull-shit from anyone. Like Ms. Moseley, come to think of it. Or Mrs. Winchester.
Dean sighed as more bad memories clattered down onto his brain. What the hell was he thinking asking Cas out on a date? This was way too soon. He had no idea what he was doing, he didn't even know… if this date went in the direction of his hook-ups or those humid nights in Cassie's dorm room… he didn't know if he could go through with it.
Besides, who'd want to be with knight who failed at his only job, left sobbing in the mud without a white horse?
Luke was racing back to the water farm on Tatooine. Dean knew this part of the movie. It was when he finds out his parents are dead - - well, his aunt and uncle, but close enough. Dammit. If it wasn't that night where Dean killed Cassie it was when he was racing to that hospital in Kansas City. His momma had asked for him, and he had to get there. He got the speeding ticket. He got to her room late. It was empty save a bouquet of roses fixed to the inside of her door. They'd never been watered. His mother's last waking moments, waiting for her baby to get there, were spent staring at a bunch of dead flowers.
A phaser beam shot knocked Dean out of the memory.
"Ah…Han Solo shot first…," Castiel said, still staring at the computer. "I understand now."
"Yeah, he's… not one for finesse."
Dean zoned in and out of the movie several times, alternatively thinking about the notebook, the roses, or that knight. He came to during the final scene, as Princess Leia gives medals to Luke and Han. Castiel leaned back in his chair and frowned, using his fingers to tighten his lips. As the credits began rolling he spoke.
"That was an interesting film… but I do not like the sexism. A princess in that setting would likely be trained with greater knowledge of combat and strategy then what Leia demonstrated. She's effectively the princess in a Middle-Ages European story interpreted by a Victorian, white male: something to be placed upon a pedestal because of her class position and beauty. She is the medal in the in the overall story, which is unfair. Would a princess whose home was brought to apocalypse pass her agency off to a man with cavalier pretentions? I seriously doubt it. That was very unrealistic."
"…That was the unrealistic part you're upset about?"
Castiel shrugged. Dean shook his head slightly. "Jesus everything's all Cassie tonight."
Castiel turned to him. "Who is Cassie?"
"Oh, uh… old girlfriend," Dean replied. Talking about exes was awkward enough to begin with, but apparently even more so when they were a different gender than your present date. And, well, dead.
Castiel looked at the computer screen a moment, then back to Dean curiously.
"No, just… that's something Cassie would have said… you're little feminist critique of the coolest movie ever."
Castiel nodded, turning back to the computer. "Were you close? You and Cassie?"
"Man, I'm don't gonna talk about that."
"…Then you were. Well, that's a good thing."
"Why?"
"If you cared greatly for this woman, and you see something similar between her and I… then perhaps this date isn't a fluke," Castiel said.
What are you talking about?"
"…I believed you were heterosexual, and then… you weren't. That was very surprising, Dean. I couldn't help wondering if you proposed it because of… guilt, or… something else beyond my comprehension."
"No, dude, really, I like you," and THAT just came out of his mouth.
"…I sense that was not the end of your thought," Castiel said.
"What, do you want me to give you a running monogluge of everything that's running through my head?"
"…Did your former girlfriend ever tell you that you struggle with emotional vulnerability?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what I said. You don't seem to be open to what you sense or feel… and that means you don't communicate terribly well, at least with words."
"Jesus dude, how do you do that? Just bore into people, can't you ever just let it rest?"
"…Not really," Castiel said with a wince Dean missed.
"Well just leave it, aright? Watch the movie."
"The movie is over."
"Then watch the next one."
Castiel sighed. "Why do I feel like we're having a repeat of the yelling match last night?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm just thinking about things."
"For example?"
"You know the basics, and believe me you don't want to know any-more than that."
"… I do know the basics, but if I didn't want to know more would I have asked? You know I'm not just some random person with a dangerous excess of curiosity or someone who says they want to know what's going on in your head when really they want to know how to get into your pants."
"How'd that get into the conver—you know what? Forget. Just watch the next Star Wars movie."
"You're avoiding the topic. Besides, there can't be another—"
Dean pulled out the Episode V DVD.
Cas's mouth closed, glancing between Dean and the DVD. "I… I don't want you to avoid emotional discourse… but I also want to know if Leia is allowed to personify bad-assness."
Dean smirked. "Still think I'm a terrible liar?"
"Not necessarily. Please, the film."
Dean reached forward and shoved the disc into his computer, part glad that he was getting off the topic of emotional vulnerability and back to the awesome.
Cas put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "I'm not going to drop the topic though. Something is bothering you that wasn't bothering you this morning or when you arrived this evening, and I'm not okay letting you suffer in secrecy."
That final part of his sentence caught Dean off guard. After a momentary stare he shook off the thoughts of his mother and the roses to say, "Sure thing Freud."
Castiel glared at him. "This isn't a matter of Freudian interpretations of psychoanaly—HOLY!…
Dean's stared at Castiel wide-eyed for a moment before a grin crept over his face.
"The starting theme is loud and disconcerting," Castiel said quietly. "…Don't look at me like that."
"Free country," Dean found himself saying. He took off his jacket and leaned back as he had before while Castiel leaned forward to watch Episode V's icy opening. He didn't want to say it, let alone think it, but… Cas was kinda cute. Hot, yes. Engaging, yes. And now kinda cute. Dean much preferred where his mind was going now compared to where it was. He mentally tugged at the cords tying Cas's apron around his hips, then pulling off that button down one button at a time, then tasting that skin that perpetually smelled of spiced baking…
"Is the reason you didn't want to say what was on your mind because that's what's giving you a massive erection?" Castiel said coldly.
"Bwuh, wha, I, I don't-!"
"Peripheral vision, Dean," Castiel said. "And denim doesn't lend itself well to quiet rubbing."
Rock of Ultimate Awkwardness. Dean Winchester. Hard Place.
"That's what all this is about, isn't it?" Castiel sighed.
"What what's all about?"
Castiel hung his head for a moment as the battle on the ice planet Hoth getting underway. "You asked me out on this date so you could have sex, then, ideally, leave."
"…Are you fucking serious?"
"You wouldn't be the first to try to 'nail a Mormon' or to want boasting stories about 'screwing the coffee shop worker,' or even just wanting to sexually experiment on the si—"
"Well I'm not like those guys, alright?" Dean shot back.
"…Not all of them were men," Castiel mumbled.
"Well I'm not like those chicks either!" Dean said. "Really man, you're way off the ball on this one."
They returned to the movie. Dean watched Han running through the maze of collapsing snow bunker. Solo was a cool character, especially when he became less of an ass later in the movies, but right now he looked like a bumbling idiot, like that knight crying in the mud. Dean rolled his eyes.
Was it really so awful if that fallen knight had taken any kind of comfort and connection that'd been offered him, even if it was mainly physical? It was what it was, but it wasn't like Dean only ever looked for physical gratification. He was a knight, dammit, horse or not.
What was it that Cassie said about women and pedestals that one time in their entry seminar class, the one they'd met in? She said… men like to think they're doing women a favor by idealizing them, putting them up on a pedestal, but once they're there it's a mighty long way to fall. Was the distance from that pedestal to the ground the same as from a white horse?
"Why the hell'd you think I'd be like that?" Dean blurted out. "I mean, sex is awesome, but it's not worth being a douche to get it."
Castiel looked away from the screen, where the rebel leaders were discussing evacuation ideas, to the storage room doorway.
"Seriously man, what gives?... Now who's avoiding the topic?"
"I thought you understood. Sex is something that's only supposed to take place within the sanctity of marriage, or as close to marriage as someone can reach," Castiel whispered. "Or that's what I think it's supposed to be… I'm afraid I've ruined this date."
The words "Yeah you have" caught behind Dean's teeth. Instead of saying them he swallowed and said, "What if this wasn't a date? What if this was just us… you know, doing the thing over the counter?"
"Doing what thing?"
Dean stood up and walked to the counter, gesturing for Cas to follow. Dean jumped over the divider and walked up behind the register, watching Castiel walking up warily. "I don't understand what you're doing," The barista said.
"Just follow my lead," Dean replied. He cleared his throat and said, "Yo, welcome to the Obolus freak zone, home to psychopomp-crazy-bitches and back doors to the underworld. What can I get ya?"
Castiel continued to stare warily.
Dean rolled his eyes. "This doesn't work if you don't play along."
Castiel stared at the ground for a moment before saying, "Maybe…a green tea."
"On it," Dean said, though he held on to the side of the upper counter for a second. "You sure you just want Green Tea? I got something way better than that if you think you can take it."
Castiel shrugged. "I guess."
Dean nodded before tearing through the strange bottles that lined the hidden racks of the front counter. Cas once mentioned that they stocked alcohol. Dean was gonna find it, dammit. "Something got ya man? You look like a 500 pound hooker just finished an hour of farting in your face."
It took a few moments for Castiel to reply. "You have a very strange sense of humor."
"Maybe everyone else's strange for not getting it," Dean said while squatting on the floor. "Sweet Jesus, y'all got the good stuff."
"What did you say?"
"Nothin'."
Dean jumped up, holding a bottle of George T. Stagg Whiskey. Now, cups. "So let's talk. What's eatin' ya?"
Again, there was hesitation, but as Dean located the cupboards that held seemingly endless amounts of rolling trays, filled with mugs, cups, classes, bowls, flagons, and tea pots, Castiel said, "I… I think a guy that… I enjoy the company of doesn't reciprocate… He asked me out on a date, but it was strange… I can't figure out if I'm just another sexual conquest or curiosity to him or not."
Dean pulled the top off of the whiskey and took a sip before pulling two glasses out of the trays of endless cups, hoping he never had to hear Cas say something like that ever again. "What makes ya think he's like that?"
"…Most men are, I've found," Cas said. "And… he seems very easily aroused, and he's from a culture that… I've long been taught is full of sinners."
"So… you think he's a rapist or something?"
"What!? No, not at all!" Castiel said. "He's a kind soul, if a brash one… I don't think I really know what's bothering me. I'm… uncomfortable with how easily he seems to be able to act sexually."
"'Cause that's a sin thing?" Dean asked.
"Perhaps… but… maybe it's because I'm not so comfortable acting… sexually. And… it is strange to think of him as also being homosexual… sometimes I wish I could take the sex out of sexuality."
"You sure he's gay?" Dean replied, eyeing the whiskey as he poured it into the two glasses. "Maybe's he's not, you know? Like some guys like guys and some girls like girls, but some like both, right? Maybe he's like that."
Dean waited a few thunderous heartbeats before hearing, "That would make sense."
"And hey, you're a guy, you know how easy guys get turned on, like… a lot of times you don't even think about it, it just happens. It's not like you start screwing anything that moves though. Some guys do, and they're a bunch of selfish ass-holes, so…," Dean was back in front of the front counter, holding the two glasses. He passed one across the way to Castiel, who took it slowly, carrying 500 pounds of guilt on his face.
"So…maybe you did something that turned him on, and that's all there was to it."
"…I misjudged you, Dean, I'm sorr-"
"Ah - hey, you're breaking character."
Castiel whispered a smile. "Perhaps you're right."
"You bet your sweet ass I'm right."
Castiel let his smile all the way through. "I think I prefer these discussions to dates. There is less pressure."
"Dude. Character; stay in it."
Castiel nodded slightly, pushing down his smile as his voice picked up out of the gravel and into the air. "So what did you find in the place of Green Tea?"
"The best thing made east of the Mississippi," Dean replied.
Castiel brought the glass up to his nose then dipped his head back. "This doesn't smell like tea."
Dean kicked back a good chunk of his drink, hissed, and smiled. "Nope, this is liquid gold."
"Or paint thinner," Castiel said. He took a breath before swallowing as much of the drink as Dean had, only to bulge his eyes a moment later, swallow, and cough horribly. "How… gracious, how did you do that?"
"Ehh, get used to it with practice," Dean said with a smile.
"I hope so," Castiel said, taking another deep breath. "I really am sorry for jumping to conclusions about you Dean."
"Y'get used to me with practice," He replied.
"…Shall we?" Castiel asked, pointing back to the computer. Dean gave a lop-sided nod and jumped back over the divider, bringing his drink with him. "Would you mind that this remains less of a date and more of a…?"
"A hang out?" Dean offered.
"Yes," Castiel said, sitting down in his chair and looking at the screen. "Why are Leia and Han flirting with each other in a cave?"
"Ah, one sec," Dean said, setting his drink down on the table before reaching forward to rewind the video via track-pad. "And I'm cool with it, as long as you're cool with sometimes giving me a hard-on."
He liked that that made Cas smile. "That is a two way street, Dean."
Dean's eyes shot from watching was his fingers were doing to Castiel's blues. He raised one eyebrow slowly.
"…There have been times that I was standing in front of the counter. Khakis tend to leave little to the imagination."
Dean stared, swallowed, and moved to reply until his hand slipped and the Star Wars opening theme blasted out of the computer's speakers, sending both men cursing and falling backwards out of their chairs.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE!
1. This chapter turned out to be really hard to write. I think this is its sixth version? Seventh?
2. It is now October, which is prime paper writing season in grad school (at least my grad school). I'm not going to necessarily be able to get chapters out as often as I want (every Wednesday), but I'm going to try. If I can't make that deadline, then I'll just keep working until I finish and then post.