A/N: You guys are so nice. Thank you so much for the kind words!
The town this takes place in is made up. I have no knowledge of the geography of Oregon besides Portland. It just seems like a cool state. I visited there recently and want to move there. I wanted this story to take place in an small Oregon college town that is near Portland and the coast. I could not find a town like this that existed, so I made one up. Also, Cocorosie and Melt Banana are two of my favorites so if you like them 3 3 3
Dean walks Castiel home because it's the right thing to do and because Castiel is far more intoxicated than he let on at the bar.
It's early October and the air is just beginning to get nippy. Dean loves fall. It's his favorite season, with the air smelling perpetually of bonfires and dead leaves. He has fond memories of celebrating Sam's birthday, which falls on the same day as Halloween, and for years it was the best, because they'd get to trick or treat and eat birthday cake, all in one glorious day. It's nostalgic for him now in a bittersweet way, since Dean hasn't been home in two years. Dean glances over at Castiel as they walk up the block to his apartment complex and Dean wonders if Castiel ever celebrated Halloween as a child.
They arrived at Castiel's apartment complex, one of the two located in town. Jo had actually lived in the same building during her junior year.
Castiel fumbles for his keys and turns to Dean. "Would you like to come up and see my place?" He asks, almost shyly. "I rarely have people over, so it'd be nice to actually show people I don't sit around in the dark listening to screamo while painting portraits of dead people."
Dean hesitates. Castiel is drunk and Dean feels incredibly sorry for him right now. Dean also feels this strange bond with him and for some reason, he was dying to get to know him. Dean rarely felt this way about people anymore and he wasn't sure what it was about Castiel. Coming up to his apartment after a night of drinking almost seems like a bad idea. Then he sees the way Castiel is looking at him, so hopeful, and he remembers what Castiel said about not having many friends, and he can't say no.
They walk up a flight of stairs and walk down an unremarkable hallway and Castiel unlocks the door to his apartment. Once inside, Dean recognizes it as having the same basic set up as Jo's apartment: four walls, a narrow kitchen, a small living room and a bedroom the size of a refrigerator box. Dean walks in and observes the walls, which are covered with horror movie posters and a series of large paintings that are awash in varying colors of dark green and crimson. Castiel has a respectable leather couch and an even more respectable sound system, and a TV that looks like it has been around since the 80s.
"You're a horror fan?" Dean observes, taking note of the vintage looking Psycho poster above the couch.
Castiel shrugs. "What can I say? I like noisy music and violent movies."
"Psycho is one of my favorites." Dean said. "The Birds too."
Castiel grins. "I love the Birds. Hitchcock is amazing."
The more you get to know a person, the more they surprise you. Dean thought.
He never would have pegged Cas as a horror fan.
"These paintings." Dean motions at the wall. "These yours?"
Castiel blushed. "Yeah, I know it's kind of lame to put your own work on the walls, but no one ever sees them anymore, so…"
"These are awesome, Cas." He stares at the painting, taking in the violent strokes of the brush, the way the color bleeds together and the dark shapes and lines that come together to form what look like faces, insects, shadows and licks of fire. Dean doesn't know what they are, but they disturb him. "What are they supposed to be?"
"I painted those my freshman year of college during a studio class. We were supposed to paint a series of memories from childhood. Ridiculous, I know. There's a reason I didn't stick with art here. I can't even really explain what came over me when I did those…" He said, his voice fading away.
"They're amazing. They're scary as hell, but, man, you have real talent." Dean said admiringly.
"Thanks, Dean. Seriously, thank you!" Castiel gushed.
Dean turned to Cas, who wore another ridiculously large smile. It occurred to Dean that it had probably been a long time since anyone had complimented Castiel's art skills. Otherwise he wouldn't be gushing so much.
"Do you want a beer?" Castiel asked, changing the subject. "I don't drink much, maybe a beer or two after a long day, so I have some in the fridge."
"Sure." Dean said.
Dean feels very awkward. Castiel had offered him a beer and he accepted, which meant he expected him to stick around for awhile. He actually felt out of place in this very clean and very cool apartment. Dean had expected there to be textbooks and papers and paint everywhere, for it to be as disheveled and rushed as Castiel seemed in person. Instead, the apartment showed a more accurate portrayal of Castiel: he was an artistic person with unusual taste in music who liked to chill with a Hitchcock movie and a beer after a long day of teaching. In other words, Castiel was just like Dean in many ways, except Dean can't even draw stick figures.
Castiel ambled over to the stereo. "Anything you feel like hearing? I have a very large music collection."
"Um, not Melt Banana or anything like Melt Banana." He said, frowning just a little, hoping he wouldn't offend Castiel.
"Do you like Cocorosie?" He asked.
Dean shrugged. He'd never heard of Cocorosie. His tastes tended to lean more toward Ozzy, Zeppelin and Alice Cooper.
"Oh, it's very good. Female indie rock, of course. Very mellow, almost haunting."
He sounded like a Pitchfork review. Charlie would be creaming herself right now.
Castiel put on the music and went over and sat on the couch. Dean sat next to him, making sure not to get too close. The vibes he was getting from Castiel and the way he personal felt so uncomfortable, yet also totally himself, was wigging him out. Plus the music coming from the stereo was making him feel drowsy, like he was about to fall asleep in a field full of dandelions.
"Dean, can I ask you something?" Castiel said carefully.
"Sure, Cas. What is it?" Dean said, giving him a lazy smile.
"What do you think of me, like honestly?"
Dean blinked. The question seemed totally out of left field, especially since he thought Cas was more comfortable tonight than he had been since he had first met him.
"Why do you ask?" Dean said.
"I'm just wondering. Like I said, I don't have a lot of friends. I don't know. I don't want you to hang out with me just because you feel sorry for me. If I thought that was why you were here or why you were seeing me outside of tutoring sessions, I wouldn't have told you about my, um, background." He said, staring at the wall behind him, his eyes darting back and forth again, like they had when they'd first met.
Dean thought for a second. He wasn't sure how to answer that without lying or making Castiel angry. He did feel pity for him, but it wasn't in a negative way. He was actually impressed with the way Castiel had come from a background like that and done so well for himself academically and economically. He knew he had to choose his words carefully.
"I think you're a great person, Cas. I mean, I don't see why you don't have many friends. Yeah, when we first met, I thought you were kind of strange, but I get it. Getting to know you the last few weeks, seeing how quickly Jo and Charlie took to you, it's clear to me that you're a cool dude who deserves everything good in this world." Dean said.
"Do you feel sorry for me? Do you like me?" He persisted.
"Shit dude, I feel bad for anyone who grew up without a home. But look at you now. You're a smart guy with a real job and some kick ass taste in music and movies. Not to mention the whole artistic genius thing. And duh, of course I like you. I wouldn't be sitting here with you if I didn't, believe me." Dean said finally.
When Castiel had asked Dean if he liked him, Dean knew he was seeing a side of the other man that he had never seen before. Castiel was sitting there hunched forward, hungry for approval. He was practically begging for it. His eyes were wide, slightly wild, and Dean saw a bit of the child who had spent the better part of his life being shuttled from one foster home to the next.
Castiel looked pleased and settled back into the cushions. Dean didn't know if it was the beer or intimacy of being alone in his apartment that was making Castiel so open to him after being so guarded. He wasn't sure why Castiel would choose him, of all people, to be the one who saw his true personality.
"This is pretty." Dean said, listening to the music. "Much better than Melt Banana."
"Why do you give me so much shit about Melt Banana?" Castiel said.
"Because they suck."
"Charlie likes them."
"Charlie has awful taste in music."
Castiel giggled. "Dean, seriously, once again, what is with the lesbians? I have never seen you around anyone else. Just lesbians and friends of lesbians."
"It's the dream of most men to have two lesbians to himself all of the time. I don't know why you're hassling me about it." Dean said, grinning at him.
"You're a male fag hag." Castiel said.
"Take that back! I am not a hag."
"Is that why you don't have a girlfriend? Charlie and Jo are enough for you?"
Dean shrugged. "It's not important to me right now. What's important is graduating, starting my career, Jo and Charlie and somehow making sure my brother doesn't go bat shit again from 2000 miles away." He said, almost too casually.
Cas stopped. "What's wrong with your brother?"
Oops.
Dean rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Oh, um, I thought I'd told you about that. Sammy, well, Sammy has some issues. Some mental ones that tend to… cause trouble in our family."
"Is that why you stayed at home after high school?"
"Well, yeah. My mom kind of bailed for awhile and my dad, well, he kind of sucks and only comes around every 6 months or so. Sammy needs someone around, like, most of the time." Dean said, vowing not to say anything more. He was not a sharing and caring kind of guy and Castiel already had enough baggage of his own.
"I didn't know."
"I didn't tell you."
They sat there in silence for a few minutes, sipping their beers, listening to Cocorosie croon about werewolves and schizophrenia and creepy fathers and skinny, tall brothers and with those lyrics, it almost became too much for Dean.
"Can I have another beer?" He said hoarsely, draining his bottle.
"Of course."
Castiel rushed into the kitchen and brought him another beer. He handed it to him and Dean took it silently.
"Dean, are you okay?"
Dean swallowed. His entire reason for majoring in biology, going into research, his determination to search for a cure that probably didn't exist was Sam. Yet, Dean hadn't been home in years and he hadn't talked to Sam in weeks. He was a dismal excuse for a brother.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking about Sam, I guess. I haven't talked to him in awhile. I was just thinking about what I'll say when I call him tomorrow." Dean said. Of course, he hadn't been thinking about that, but now he was determined to set aside a chunk of time tomorrow to talk to his younger brother.
"What's wrong with him? Like, what exactly?" Castiel asked.
"I don't want to get into it, Cas. I'm sorry man, but that stuff is personal, like too personal." Dean said, snapping a little.
"I'm sorry." Castiel murmured. "I swear. I won't bring it up again. I'm really sorry."
"Dude, don't apologize. It's not a big deal at all. I just don't like talking about it, just like you don't like talking about certain things. You don't need to feel bad about it." Dean said, turning to his friend.
Castiel's face was creased with worry and he looked unsteady. He was hunched over and his right eye was twitching. Dean glanced at his hands. He had both hands wrapped around his bottle and he was clutching it so tightly, his knuckles were white.
"Cas, are YOU okay?" Dean said, staring at him, suddenly very worried. "Man, seriously, you don't worry about it. I'm not mad. You and I are perfect, okay?"
Castiel nodded weakly. "Okay." He said.
"Why don't you put the beer down?" Dean said easily. "Come on, put it on the table.
Castiel didn't move. Dean reached over and plied the beer from his hands. He set it on the table.
"Cas?"
"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I can't… I hate it when I get like this."
"It's okay. Come here. I'm just going to give you a little hug, okay? Nothing serious or bad. Just to show we're cool."
Dean reached over and pulled the smaller man into a very loose embrace. Castiel actually shuddered against him, as if it was the first hug he had ever received, as if he hadn't been touched in years. Dean realized that there was a good possibility the latter part might actually be true. He held him close for a minute until he felt Castiel's body relax. He was so tiny compared to Dean that it was like hugging Jo.
"Cas, what happened there?" He murmured, breathing into his hairline.
"I don't like making people I like angry. I told you, I'm a freak."
"Once again, you're not a freak, Cas. Look, I'm not mad, either. You and I are totally cool and look, we're close. Would I be sitting here cradling you like a baby bird if I were angry or didn't like being around you?"
"I guess not." Castiel said, his voice evening out.
Dean let him go, but continued to hold his hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze to further illustrate his point.
"You're good at dealing with people like me." Castiel muttered.
"It's a part of the Dean Winchester package. Stick with me and you'll get to reap all of the benefits." Dean said, smiling at him.
Castiel smiled back at him, a ghost of the smile he had earlier, but a smile nonetheless. Dean's heart ached for Castiel. Clearly the guy had been through some unspeakable shit during his life. Dean still thought he was dealing with it remarkably. Seeing him sitting there, those amazing paintings behind him, the strange music playing in the background, Dean wished he could convey to him that he was sitting here for reasons beyond pity and free tutoring. He just wasn't sure how to do that without risking breaking Castiel into tiny pieces.