Title: Call Me Maybe
Author: adeerfriend
Rating: PG
Pairing: Destiel
Warnings: Shamelessly stolen from Carly Rae Jepsen. And pure crack.
Word Count: 1600
Summary: Becky is on a mission to bag her neighbor, Dean. But that new guy Castiel keeps popping up and throwing a wrench in the works.
Also on
FF.
A/N: I’m so glad this site is anonymous.
May
This was her summer, Becky was sure of it. She had a fresh tan and totally bitching blonde highlights. And she had been totally reading up on how to snag that cute guy in apartment 5C. The guy was a total dreamboat, he had just moved in like three months ago with his brother. Who, although tall, didn’t possess the raw masculinity of his brother Dean. Dean. Entire romance novels could be written about him. And beneath that macho mechanic exterior was a total puppy dog. Becky knew that for a fact. Dean may be completely oblivious to her feminine wiles right now, but by the end of the summer, he’d be hers.
June
For the past couple of weeks Becky had been manning the peephole at her front door so she could ‘accidentally’ run into Dean on the way to pick up his mail. This was tricky because he was only home during mail delivery a couple times a week, and the other days Sam would just pick it up on his way home from work. So it was a delicate process. One that required both extensive time and obsessive tendencies. Which Becky had both in spades. Like, hello? Who do you think ran that online forum devoted to all of Carver Edlund’s books through high school? Not Tiffany from choir practice, that’s for sure.
Anyways, she was getting distracted. Becky had chosen the perfect outfit for the day, a summer casual maxi dress that was super cute and told men ‘I can look put together without trying’. At least that’s what Cosmo had said. So naturally Becky knew immediately that it would be the dress to snag Dean Winchester.
Through the peephole she had seen a flicker of movement from 5C, waiting just a second longer, Becky confirmed that it was Dean. Her hand was literally on the handle of the door when disaster struck. A crash sounded from the hallway, and her eye was glued to the peephole. Some other man, maybe a couple of years older than Becky, had walked straight into Dean. Becky was just able to make out some boxes on the floor, which had the guy had been carrying.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The mystery man apologized, helping Dean off the floor.
“No worries, man.” Dean said good naturedly, wiping the dust off of his jeans. So even tempered, Becky thought, such a nice young man. “Those boxes look heavy. You moving in?”
The other man nodded. “Today is my first day in the building, in the city actually.”
Dean smiled, Becky swooned. “That’s awesome! You’ll love it here. Everyone loves Austin.” Then Dean leaned closer to the other man, as if to tell a secret and said something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Some of the neighbors are creepy as hell though, watch out’. Becky would have to keep an eye out. After all, she was a young independent woman.
“I believe I will too, then.” The other replied. “I’m Castiel.”
“Dean.” He stuck out his hand. “If you like Indian, my brother and I always order too much. Feel free to stop by. 5C.” Dean smiled again. “I’ll catch you later, Cas.”
The men went their separate ways, and Becky pounced.
“Hey, Dean!” She called, running to catch up with him. “What’s up?”
Dean looked slightly scared. That Cas dude must have been majorly terrifying. “Oh, nothing. Ya know, getting the mail.” He laughed awkwardly.
“That’s cool.” Becky nodded, following Dean to the mailroom. “Can you recommend a good Indian place, by the way? I’ve been craving some samosas.” She asked casually, unlocking her mailbox.
Dean shrugged. “Can’t say that I can. I bet that guy in 5A can though. Chuck? He’s always getting take out.”
Because Becky was an aforementioned young independent woman, she took this in stride. Maybe Dean was playing hard to get. This was the 21st century after all.
July
Becky noticed Dean and the new guy, Castiel, were spending more and more time together. Ah, her Dean, so welcoming. So friendly. And clearly very secure in his masculinity. Becky had stopped counting the number of times she had caught them lost in thought, just looking at each other. A real life bromance on her doorstep. It was good, she decided. All boyfriends needed their own friends. Who else would they consult when Dean was buying Becky gifts in the near future? Definitely not Sam. She had seen the shirts that he wore and the only excuse that he had was that it must be hard finding shirts in sasquatch size.
Interactions with Dean had been minimal through the month, limited to whenever Becky could ambush him in the hallway or outside the building when he wasn’t talking to Castiel or Sam. This was until all of Becky’s hard work over the summer paid off, and Dean knocked on Becky’s door. Sure, it was two in the morning, but it wasn’t like she was asleep. Due to a distressing lack of Dean interaction, Becky may have fallen back into an unfortunate quirk of debating people online over the greatness of the Carver Edlund series. And after Becky had ushered Dean into her apartment and sat him down on the couch, it became clear that Dean was more than a little drunk. But, once again it needed to be said, Becky was facing some desperate times. And desperate times called for hooking up with drunk boys that wouldn’t remember it in the morning. But she would. Oh, would Becky remember.
Unfortunately, Dean did not seem to be on the same wavelength as Becky. More than anything, he seemed a little sad.
“What do you need, Dean?”
He scowled and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Let me break down a situation for you, Becks.” She had a nickname. Oh my god. Dean Winchester had given her a nickname. “Say you have a friend. A female friend.”
Becky nodded fervently. There was only one way this could go, and it was definitely in her favor.
“And you like her a lot.” Dean met her eyes, they were a little bloodshot. “A lot.” He repeated for emphasis. “Like you think about her all the time.” Becky’s heart was working double-time. “Her lips. Her hair. Her dumb geeky jokes.” Dean cleared his throat, as if just remembering where he was. “Anyways, you think that you might like her more than a friend, but you’ve never liked another girl like that.” Dean frowned again. “Does this make sense?”
“Yes, yes.” Becky replied quickly. “Continue.”
“Okay, so you think you might be in love with your friend. How do you tell them without completely fucking it up?”
Becky took a deep breath. This was do or die. Dean Winchester was putting it all on the line. “First of all, it’s a very good thing that you’ve come to me.” Becky assured him, patting his knee gently. “The one thing you don’t want to happen is to be pining after somebody who has no idea that you like them, Dean! There’s nothing more pathetic than being that guy. Do you remember Ross on Friends? That was the lamest. Just like, grow a pair and tell her already!” Dean made a confused face, and Becky thought that she might have lost him. “I mean, even if it kills you, you have to put it all on the line. You don’t want to wake up in thirty years and wonder, ‘what if?’, ya know?”
“But what if he-she says no?”
Becky sighed. “That’s a risk you’ll have to take, Dean.” She nudged him. “But between you and me? Nobody is gonna say no to you.”
August
Becky really thought that was it. Somehow she had got him hook, line, and sinker. But Dean remained MIA for days afterwards. Actually, closer to weeks. Sure, Becky saw him enough, but it was always with Castiel. Or ‘The Blue-Eyed Devil’, as she had started calling him in her head. They were always together. And even though Becky had vowed to be the laid back, easygoing girlfriend, she was starting to feel a little jealous.
She had started to take out her frustrations by talking to her twitchy neighbor, Chuck. Their first conversation had been a little slow, she didn’t know if he was scared by girls or what, but he would not talk. It gradually got better; he would even put in his two cents about what he thought about Dean and Castiel. For some reason, he always insinuated that Castiel might have a crush on Dean. Which, granted, was totally understandable. But Dean didn’t swing that way. Becky had told Chuck as much and he had just made another one of his exasperated noises and then shuffled back to his apartment in his robe. Becky would have to find out one day what Chuck did; he seemed to be home an awful lot.
So Becky spent night after night waiting by the phone or peephole as it were, waiting for her one true prince charming to arrive. She had nearly given up too, when she heard the noise. It was two pairs of footsteps, clumsily making their way down the hallway, apparently hitting every wall on the way over.
Becky caught a flash of dark brown hair and the trench coat that Castiel seemed to favor and figured that he had brought a date home with him. Which, good for him, getting over Dean so quickly and whatnot. And then Becky caught a glimpse of his partner. And, oh. Oh.
Eventually Becky would forgive Dean, and she had to admit that the healing process would be expedited by how cute he looked with Castiel.