Castiel brooded in the dark confines of the shop for the rest of the day, trying to decide which moment in particular from that afternoon won for most embarrassing of his life.
Thankfully, Gabriel and Balthazar had enough tact to leave him alone after he had stormed out of the house. He'd only received three texts, one from Gabriel expressing his opinion on the suckyness of the situation and two from Balthazar, one of which had been clearly written at the behest of his brother and read simply, too bad old chap, while the other had elaborated on the virtues of the person to whom he had been referring when he had first blown through the door just as Dean had been leaving.
He set the phone down and dragged his fingers through his hair, balling his hands into fists and tugging, hoping that maybe the action might pull the memories right out of his head. But all it did was give him a headache.
He was in a foul mood for the next few days, snapping at people indiscriminately, most of whom - Gabriel and Balthazar - deserved it. He didn't bother to snap himself out of it until he found himself harshly critiquing the performance of the college student who worked weekends for nearly nothing, feeling like utter shit once he had.
"I'm sorry Alfie, I shouldn't have said that."
Alfie shrugged and picked up the pile of fallen books that had sparked the insensitive comment in the first place.
"That's all right Mr. Novak," Castiel still hadn't managed to convince him to use his first name.
"No it's not. It was unwarranted and I apologize."
He sighed wearily and sucked back the cold dregs of coffee that lingered from his third cup of the day.
"Mr. Novak?"
Castiel looked up and into Alfie's wide eyed face.
"Yes?"
The boy frowned, "Are you alright?"
Cas considered answering truthfully, that no, he was not alright, that he hadn't been alright in a very long time, not since he got knocked out of his pleasant little life of blissful ignorance by urges that just wouldn't stay quite any longer and this recent turn of events was just another upset on his road to becoming an old, lonely, forgotten man. But Alfie's eyes were still so bright. He still had so much to look forward to. Life hadn't yet dragged him down the inevitable road of pessimism and Castiel couldn't dump all that on him.
"Yes. I'm fine."
And with that lie, he stood and moved into the dust filled back office where he could mope and pine in silence.
"Oh! Mr. Novak, I almost forgot."
Castiel turned at the doorway.
"Earlier, when you were at your brother's bakery. Someone called." He fumbled in his pocket for a slip of paper. "He said his name was Dean and that he wanted to see you, to thank you, and then he said he was staying at the Peninsula, and then he said he was saying under another name but I can't remember what it was."
Castiel blinked.
Dean had called? Dean had gone to the trouble of finding out his phone number and called and wanted to see him again?
"You can't remember the name he gave you?"
Alfie's eyes went wide.
"I'm sorry Mr. Novak. I was searching for a pen and paper and by the time I got everything down he'd hung up."
Castiel looked at the miserable expression on the boy's face. He was a good kid, and he tried really hard.
He stepped forward and took the proffered paper, clapping him on the shoulder for good measure.
"That's all right Alfie. Thank you."
He beamed up at Cas and hefted the stack of paperbacks, trotting off to suspense and thrillers.
Cas watched him go and then glanced down at the message.
For: Mr. Novak
From: Dean
Just wanted to thank you for the shirt. Staying at the Peninsula under the name…? Call me.
Cas sighed. There was no way they'd let him see Dean without knowing what name he'd checked in under. He briefly contemplated staking out the place before deciding that was too close to stalker territory and decided to try his luck with a phone call.
"The Peninsula, how may I help you."
"Uhh, hello. I'm looking for um, Dean Winchester, he called about an hour ago and left a message."
"I'm sorry sir, there is no one of that name staying here."
"Yes I know, see, he left the message with my...assistant who forgot what alias he's staying under but I do know he's using a different name and he did want me to be able to contact him."
"I'm sorry sir, but without the proper name I cannot connect you to any of our guests. It is a matter of privacy. Our guests choose to stay with us because we take the utmost care to-"
"Maintain their privacy, yes, I get it." Cas didn't care if he was being rude, this pompous concierge was the only thing standing between him and Dean and he was damned if he was just going to let himself be intimidated. "Look, can't you just-"
"Mr. Novak! Mr. Novak!"
"Hold on a second."
He pulled the receiver down and rested it against his chest as Alfie came hurrying around the shelves.
"I remember. I remember because my brother got really into Led Zeppelin last year and he would play all their albums and listen for the Lord of the Rings references and he-"
"Alfie!" Castiel interrupted, trying to drag him back to his point.
"Right, sorry! John Bonham."
Cas brought the receiver up to his ear.
"John Bonham." He said, and waited with bated breath.
"One moment sir, I'll connect you."
Cas gulped as the line rang and he rubbed his moistened palms on the tan fabric of his slacks.
"Hello?" The voice seemed deeper down the line and Castiel almost lost the ability to speak.
"Hello. Hi. Dean? It's Castiel."
"Who?"
For a second, Cas was afraid Dean had changed his mind and was trying to get rid of him before realizing he'd never actually given the man his name.
"Oh! Right, Novak, Castiel Novak. From the bookstore."
There was a pause.
"Your name's Castiel?"
"Yeah uh, my mom was more than a little obsessed with angels."
"Hmmm, it suits you."
He wasn't sure if that was meant to be a compliment or not but he answered with a sincere, "Thanks." Regardless.
"Anyway," Dean continued, "I just wanted to call and say thanks, and sorry if I came across as a bit of a douche the other day."
"What? No, not at all. If anything, I should be apologizing for coming across as a crazed weirdo."
There was laughter down the line, deep and full bellied. Castiel basked in it.
"Well, if that was you as a crazed weirdo, then I liked it."
Cas felt a blush rise in his cheeks.
"Anyway, I was wondering if you could stop by the hotel. So I can thank you properly and return the shirt."
"I said you could keep it." Cas reminded him.
"Come on man, I can't deprive you of such an awesome shirt."
Cas was ready with another argument before his brain chipped in with are you seriously going to pass on another chance to see Dean Winchester?
"Okay. I can come tomorrow, around noon if that works."
"Great. It's the Peninsula hotel, the Peninsula Suite."
...
Castiel took in a deep, steadying breath and pulled his fingers through his hair, wishing just once that it would do something other than 'unmanageable'. It was no use, Cas could see himself from all angles in the mirrored elevator and it still stood up in every direction. The elevator was private and, apart from the usual open, shut, and emergency buttons, the display had only three floor options; Parking, Lobby, and Suite.
He gulped.
He'd stayed in a total of one hotel in his entire life and that had been in The Chicago Hilton on his honeymoon. He'd stayed there for five days and, by the end of the week, he'd had himself convinced that everyone's first time was disappointing and that it was bound to get better from there. It hadn't.
The elevator door pinged and Cas stepped out into the foyer. The floor was black marble and so shiny he could almost see his unmanageable hair reflected in it and the walls were…he moved closer and reached out a hand to touch it. Yep, the walls were suede.
Someone close by cleared their throat and Cas turned to see a skinny guy in a well tailored suit and aviator sunglasses standing at ease a few feet away.
"Oh!" Cas stepped back, wondering if he could pass off what he had been doing to the wall as anything other than stroking, but figured it wasn't worth trying, "Umm, I'm here to see Dean? Dean Winchester?"
"A likely story." The man drawled, "Now why don't you turn around and spread 'em."
"What? I don't—"
"Spread 'em!"
"Okay! Okay!" He turned, heart racing. Perhaps there had been a mistake. Perhaps he had gotten the room wrong or the hotel. Maybe the whole thing and been a prank. Gabriel was certainly devious enough to think something like this up and Balthazar could easily have been bored enough to go along with it. He was already resigned to having a full cavity search when footsteps sounded.
"Garth! For Christ's sake, this is that bookstore dude I told you was coming."
"But Dean," 'Garth' protested, "He might be—"
"What? He might be what? Huh? A teenage girl wanting to get a selfie with me? A middle aged woman claiming that my movies got her through her divorce? Seriously man, this guy's harmless.
"I was thinking more along the lines of Mark David Chapman." Garth muttered.
"He's not going to shoot me Garth. Ca—uh Castiel, you can turn around now."
Cas turned, lowering his hands as he did so. Dean was standing barefoot in the entrance to the foyer, jeans riding low on his hips, a white henley under a plaid shirt completing the ensemble.
Garth stood off to the side looking like his favourite chew toy had been taken away.
"Sorry about him." Dean greeted, "He's new. And a little overenthusiastic."
Cas tried for a laugh, just to show that he wasn't bothered, but it was a little difficult with his heart still in his throat.
"Thanks for coming man, come on in." He turned and Cas followed, giving Garth a wide berth, and stumbled to a halt when he entered the living room.
It was huge. There was a piano. Through the window he could see a patio and beyond, the lake. He spun in a slow circle, trying to take it in. Everything was bright and overstuffed and decadent. Amelia would have called it sinful. He caught a glimpse of Dean out of the corner of his eyes and pulled his jaw up off the floor.
Dean was smirking at him.
"What do you think?" He asked, Castiel could almost imagine a tone of temptation underscoring the words.
"This is..." He trailed off, unable to find the words for what it was.
"Yeah. Have to agree with you on that one." Dean answered, "Come on!"
Castiel followed him through the living room into a slightly smaller living room and from there into the bedroom where Dean picked up Cas' freshly laundered t-shirt and handed it to him. It was folded and crease free.
"Here you go."
Cas looked down at the shirt. It smelt faintly of tetrachloroethylene.
"Was this dry cleaned?"
Dean shrugged.
"I dunno, I sent it out to have it washed."
Cas glanced back down at it and nodded.
"Well, thank you." He gestured with the shirt and smiled.
"No, thank you. I wanted to apologize actually, I'm pretty sure I acted like a jerk and I'm really not. Sometimes I can be a bit of an ass, well, a huge ass actually but, I'm not a jerk and I guess I just wanted you to know that." He trailed off lamely and silence filled the space before Cas shrugged.
"Well, I can't really blame you since I did pour frozen coffee all over you."
Dean shrugged.
"Wasn't the first time I've had drinks spilled on me, accidentally or on purpose, and besides it wasn't your fault. Plus it was pretty hot out and it was kind of refreshing."
He flashed a brilliant smile and Cas momentarily forgot what they were doing in favour of staring at what that action did to his face.
He started when he realized he had been staring at Dean's mouth for god knows how long and he cleared his throat, ducking his head so his blush might go unnoticed and shifted where he stood.
"Thank you." He nodded, "For giving me the shirt back. I uh…guess I'd better be going."
"Do you have somewhere to be?" Dean asked, a frown gracing his features.
"No." He answered simply and Dean smirked.
"Then why so quick to rush off?"
Cas shrugged.
"I didn't want to take up any more of your time."
Dean scoffed.
"Please. I didn't invite you up here just to give you the shirt back, I could just as easily dropped it off at your shop or your house." He leaned in conspiratorially, "I know where you live you know."
Cas cocked his head in confusion.
"Then why did you invite me up here."
He shrugged.
"To apologize."
"Which you've done."
"Okay fine, you've see through my pretence. Now will you come out onto the porch and enjoy the spectacular view with me? 'Cause to be honest, I'm tired of doing it alone."
To be fair, the view was spectacular, the vast expanse of Lake Michigan stretching off into the hazy distance and the towers and skyscrapers standing tall and shining in the noonday sun. They chatted about meaningless things, the weather, politics, the economy before both realized neither had any interest in those subjects and they moved on to slightly more personal topics. Cas told Dean about the history of his bookstore and Dean told him about his upcoming projects. They explored the suite. There was a dining room, fitness area, fireplace, guest rooms, massive tub, and an outdoor jacuzzi.
"Wow." Was all Cas could muster by the time he slumped into one of the many sofas. It was as comfortable as it had looked.
"Yeah." Dean agreed, dropping down into a nearby chair. "No matter how many swanky places I get put up in, I still can't quite get over it."
Cas restrained himself from commenting. Despite the fact that Dean was notoriously tightlipped about his past in interviews, he'd still let the occasional comment slip and from what little the media had pieced together, it didn't paint a very pretty picture of a well-adjusted American family. Cas knew it involved abject poverty and a lot of moving around but he didn't bring it up because he really didn't want to put a damper on what was turning out to be a pretty nice afternoon and also, he didn't really want Dean to know how much of a fan he really was. At least not yet.
"Say, Cas, I was thinking." Castiel looked up, "You wanna grab a bite? Maybe take in a show? I got nothing on the roster tonight and it'd be nice to have a Chicago native show me the sights."
Cas grinned. Dean wanted to spend more time with him. Dean was enjoying his company.
"Sure that'd be great." He agreed, before remembering the date and realizing that, no, he had a previous engagement, "Shit. No, I can't I'm sorry…I have this thing. Family thing. It's my sister's birthday."
Dean nodded and Cas wondered whether or not the look of disappointment was wishful thinking when he blurted out.
"You're welcome to come."
Dean blinked at him.
"Really? I don't want to intrude."
Cas shook his head, "No not at all, the more the merrier. Seriously you wouldn't be intruding. And my family is really nice. Well, this part is, the rest of them…" He shrugged, "Seriously you'd be more than welcome."
Dean shrugged.
"Alright."
Cas beamed.
"Great, I've got to go home and change but how about I pick you up at six?"
Dean nodded and then narrowed his eyes.
"Wait, what kind of car do you drive?"
"A Pruis." He answered, "Why?"
"Nu uh. There's no way I'm getting into an estrogen tank on wheels. We're taking my car."