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Chapter 2

To say Castiel was distracted would have been a massive understatement for a start. He ran into four people on the short walk from the shop to the cafe across from his townhouse and the barista had to call his name three times before he broke out of the reverie, in which he had been playing his encounter with Dean Winchester the movie star over and over in his mind, imagining a million different ways in which he might have been cooler or funnier, situations in which Dean had been enraptured by his witticism rather than being put off by his lack of social ability and, by the time he exited the coffee shop, Gabriel's overly sugared, blended coffee in one hand and his own cold brew in the other, he was so distracted by his unhelpful thoughts that he managed to run straight into a very well toned torso that was decked out in a tight black v-neck onto which the iced beverages cascaded in an impressive torrent of beige coloured liquid.

Cas stood frozen as the drinks drenched the man, his mind stuttering to a halt as heat rose in his cheeks and his stomach knotted and clenched in embarrassment.

"Oh. My. God." It came out as a trembling whisper as Dean leapt back, swearing up a storm as the iced and frozen drinks made contact. "Oh my god! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" He fumbled for the wad of paper napkins he'd snagged when he'd stopped for milk and held them out, "Here."

Dean looked from the pathetic peace offering up to Cas with a withering glance and took the proffered napkins, dabbing ineffectually at his soaked shirt.

"Umm, I live nearby, if you want you can dry off and borrow a clean shirt."

Dean stared at him suspiciously.

"How close is nearby?" He asked, obviously suspicious, and for good reason since pretty much all of his experience with Castiel so far had painted the shop owner as nothing but an obsessed weirdo.

"Just over there." Cas answered, pointing to the small townhouse he shared with Balthazar, the only friend who had suck by him through the breakup and divorce. "Number 42. The one with the blue door."

Dean pulled off his sunglasses and glanced where he was pointing, deliberating, before nodding and, after an uncomfortable moment during which Cas could not stop staring into his eyes, gestured for Cas to lead the way with an understandably pointed throat clearing.

Cas blushed and turned, moving to the crosswalk and peering not so subtly over his shoulder to make sure that Dean Winchester was in fact following him and not running for dear life. Not that Cas would blame him.

He made it to the front door and unlocked it, letting Dean in first before entering behind and letting the door fall shut. He turned and, as the state of the living room caught his eye, he immediately wished he was tidier or that at least Balthazar wasn't such a slob. He could practically feel Dean judging him as he surveyed the empty glasses and crumb filled plates that adorned every available space in the cramped living room, all of which sent a very loud message that this was the home of bachelors who had clearly given up on love. Or at least that described Cas. Balthazar was still very much committed to the sanctity of the one night stand, gender or sexual preference be dammed. A hand came up of its own accord to scratch at the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Uhhh, sorry it's such a mess."

Dean shrugged.

"Trust me, I've seen worse." He turned and Cas was once again struck by the greenness of his eyes. He'd always assumed it was photoshop in magazine shoots or lighting in his movies, that they couldn't possibly be this colour in real life. But here he was, standing in Castiel's filthy living room in the house that he hated and that he shared with a man he couldn't stand half the time, staring into the very real, impossibly green eyes of Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester who was now frowning and clearing his throat.

"What?" He asked stupidly, not quite breaking out of his reverie.

Dean grabbed at his still wet shirt and raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Heat flooded Cas' cheeks as the reason Dean Winchester was standing in his living room in the first place came back to him, "Oh! Right, sorry, of course, sorry." He gestured up the staircase. "Up the stairs, first door on your right. I'll go grab you a clean shirt."

Dean stared at him a beat, probably trying to figure out weather or not Cas was legitimately insane before turning and ascending the staircase, Cas coming up behind him and trying desperately not to stare at the perfect ass that was right in front of him and the way the jeans - which probably cost four times what Castiel usually paid for jeans - hugged it so... He closed his eyes and tried to focus instead on other, less provocative thoughts; attending church with his father, watching Gabriel eat his own weight in pastries, the last time he'd had sex with Amelia.

The bathroom door slammed shut and Cas stood frozen for a moment on the landing. Dean Winchester was getting shirtless in his bathroom. He let that thought bounce around in his brain for a while but he still couldn't get his mind to quite believe it. He walked the five feet to his bedroom and rifled through his closet for a shirt that was at least marginally clean, finally locating his favourite old AC/DC t-thirt that would have the added benefit of making him perhaps seem marginally cooler in the eyes of the movie star currently stripping in his bathroom. Or at least slightly less weird and insane.

See, I've heard of awesome bands, I'm not a total spaz, I can be cool and interesting, please never leave.

Cas sighed and moved to the bathroom door.

What he had expected upon knocking was for Dean to open the door a crack, snatch the proffered shirt and slam to door in his face. What he did not expect was for Dean Winchester to open the door wide in all his tanned, six-pack, tattooed glory, take the shirt from Cas' limp grasp, smile and proclaim 'Dude, I love AC/DC!', wink at Cas, and then slam the door in his face.

Cas stood in the hallway for a full minute after the door closed before his mind started working enough to realize that Dean Winchester opening the door to find Cas still standing there was decidedly not a good thing and that perhaps his time might be better spent doing what little he could to make the downstairs look slightly less like a frat house had exploded.

...

Cas had just dumped the last crumb laden plate in the kitchen sink when Dean ascended the stairs, looking every bit the movie star he was and sending confusing messages to Cas' various body parts by filling out the old t-shirt way better than Cas ever had.

"Hey." He greeted, coming to a stop a few feet from the man and standing awkwardly.

Dean nodded and then glanced around at the miraculously tidied up room.

Cas rubbed the back of his neck.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Juice? I could put on some coffee or boil some water for tea if you're a tea drinker."

Dean shook his head.

"No, I'm alright."

"Are you hungry? I have food, I have...bread, I could make toast."

Dean stared at him and Cas wondered if the smile playing at the corner of his mouth was because he was being cute or because he was being weird. He was willing to bet his pitiful bank balance that it was the latter.

"Seriously dude, I'm fine. I should probably be going though. Thanks for the shirt."

"Right, of course. Not a problem. You can keep it."

Dean frowned at him and then nodded.

"'K, I'm gonna go now."

Cas felt his heart sink. The object of his affection was here in his house and he was about to walk out of his life forever. Again.

"Of course." He smiled through his disappointment, "You probably have important things to do."

"Yeah." Dean agreed, slipping his sunglasses on, hiding his eyes.

Cas mourned their loss.

And then the front door opened and Balthazar tumbled in.

"Cassie! You're home!" He stumbled forward smelling like the brewery he no doubt drank dry the previous night, "I may have found someone for you, tall, gorgeous, kinky as fuck, just the thing to initiate your virginal little ass to the wonderful world of sodomy." He nodded to Dean, barely looking at him through his sunglasses as he passed. "Hey."

Cas stood in horror in the wake of Balthazar, heat rising as his roommate's words sunk in.

"Uhhh, I'm gonna go."

Cas looked up and nodded. "That's probably a good idea. Escape while you still can."

He probably imagined the smile on Dean's face as the movie star stepped out the front door and shut it behind him.

Cas moved to the door and peeked out the side window, watching Dean cross the street and disappear around a corner. He turned and dropped his head back against the door, sliding down and slumping to the floor.

"Hold up!" Balthazar appeared at the top of the stairs, "There was a man here. A very, very attractive man wearing your shirt." He descended the staircase, coming to stop a few feet from Cas. "Have you been holding out on me Castiel?"

Cas sighed.

"No. I only met him today. He came into the shop and later I ran into him and spilt coffee all over him so I let him borrow a clean shirt. That's all."

"And you didn't get his digits? Have I taught you nothing?"

"Firstly, yes, you have taught me nothing, or at least as good as. And secondly, no, I did not get his digits." He stood and stalked into the kitchen, Balthazar trailing behind him.

"Come on Cas, I know you're a little late to the game but if you don't put yourself out there, how do you expect to get anywhere? Or anyone?"

The phone rang and Balthazar picked it up, freeing Cas from having to answer. Instead, he squirted a completely unnecessary amount of dish soap in the sink and turned the tap on, hoping the mindless task of doing the dishes would distract him enough to take his mind off his disaster of an afternoon.

"It's Gabriel, he wants to know if you got lost on the way to the coffee shop."

Cas dropped his head.

"Hey," Balthazar said into the receiver, "How much do you know about Castiel's mysterious man candy."

Cas lunged for the phone but Balth danced out of the way.

"What do you mean you have no idea what I'm talking about, Cas says he was in the store earlier and I caught a glimpse of him just now and he was fiiiiiine."

Cas chased Balthazar into the living room and rolled his eyes when his immature roommate leapt up onto the sofa before jumping up himself, having to practically climb up the man to grab the phone.

"Oh, sorry Gabriel darling, I've got to go! Castiel is attempting to molest me. Mmmm and I might just let him."

Cas snatched the phone and hit the end button triumphantly, stepping away from the Englishman and panting from the impromptu wrestling match.

The door flew open and Gabriel sprinted in.

"What's this about a man baby brother! Why didn't you tell me?!"

Cas frowned.

"What are you doing here? Who's watching the store?"

"No one, I closed it, this is much more important."

Cas threw his hands in the air.

"This is not more important Gabe, in fact it's nothing. Balthazar's just being a drama queen. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go reopen my shop and you will forget anything ever happened."

He made to stalk past his aggravating older brother but Gabe grabbed him by his shoulder, halting his movement.

"Cas, seriously. If you've met someone—"

"I haven't met anyone! This guy just came into the shop and I was a complete idiot as per usual and then I spilled iced coffee on him and let him borrow a clean shirt. That's it! End of story!"

"But he was hot?"

Cas sighed.

"Yes."

"How hot?"

Cas stared tightlipped at his overly eager brother.

"From the split second I saw him, smoking." Balthazar added, unhelpfully.

"So why is that the end of the story Cas! Come on, I know you're still getting over the whole Amelia thing but seriously, it's been long enough. And you're a catch."

"Yes seriously." Balthazar added, "I mean if you hadn't been married to that uptight, harpy—"

"Please don't call Amelia that."

"—When we first met, then I would have been on you like spunk on a whore's tits."

Cas stared in shock at his roommate's chosen metaphor and, for the first time in nearly three years, felt the need to cross himself, if only to wash clean his soul.

"Well." He said, softly, "As flattering as those words are, they are unfortunately moot. I will not be seeing the gentleman in question again."

He stepped between his perverted housemate and equally perverted brother and strode over to the door.

"Well, did you at least get a name?"

Cas opened the door and glanced back.

"It was Dean Winchester."