Big Machine (2013 DCBB) - Part 1

[anubis_s_j]

Title: Big Machine
Author: Anubis_S_J
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural, AU
Pairing(s): Dean Smith/Castiel Novak
Rating: R
Word Count: 11,076
Warnings: Minor drug use
Summary: Dean Smith is an intelligent, successful businessman who is perfectly content with his life the way it is. That is, until he meets Castiel Novak. Castiel is strange and unlike anyone Dean has ever met before, but he can't help but be drawn to him.

Part 1



Dean Smith was seated at an outside table at the cafe across from Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc. He had just shoved a forkful of mandarin salad into his mouth when someone sat down heavily across from him. He raised his eyes, taking in the sight of a dark- haired man who obviously hadn’t shaved for several days. He was wearing a loose, light blue shirt under an dirt- stained military jacket. Dean finished chewing quickly, swallowed, and then straightened to address the stranger that had decided to occupy his table as well.

“Uh, do you mind?” He tried to make his voice as unwelcoming as possible without being blatantly rude.

The man smirked at him, and leaned casually back in his seat like he belonged there. “No, not at all.” Dean hadn’t been expecting the low, throaty voice that came out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of trying to eat here.” The man didn’t seem to get the hint, staying right where he was.

“That’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? It is lunchtime.” That little smirk lingered on his chapped lips, and he gazed at Dean steadily with all-too bright blue eyes. Dean had to look away from that piercing stare, too unnerved by it to keep eye contact.

He snorted then, stabbing his salad with his fork in a flare of frustration. “Wanna tell me why you’re sitting at my table? I’m pretty sure there’s open seats somewhere else.”

“I wanted to.” The stranger tilted his head to the side, and shrugged. His demeanor was entirely too smug for Dean’s liking. “Besides, I’m... enjoying the view.”

Dean’s eyes went wide, and he looked up in time to see the other man’s eyes obviously roaming down his body before meeting his again. That smirk seemed to widen, and for a brief moment Dean couldn’t breathe as his brain short-circuited on him.

“Oookay, then, uh, that’s, that’s great, but, uh...” Dean mentally berated himself for tripping over his words as he closed up the plastic container his salad was in. Taking it in hand, he shot to his feet, and gave the stranger a very strained smile. “I’m, I’m not like that. So, yeah. Bye.” He made a hasty retreat then, trying very hard to ignore the other man’s huff of laughter, and the way he could still feel his eyes on him.

Dean had tried to put the weird little incident from lunch out of his mind, and he had almost succeeded, except the next time he went to the cafe to eat, that guy was there again. Dean decided the best course of action was to completely ignore him, and he ate in silence, trying to pretend the back of his neck wasn’t flushing red under the scruffy guy’s blue-eyed stare. The only good thing about that encounter was that the other man didn’t try to talk to him either, and he bolted as soon as he was done with his salad. He avoided the place for an entire week after that, but it didn’t seem to matter, since Dean kept seeing him around.

Somewhere around the eighth time Dean ran into the creepy bastard face-to-face, he finally lost his temper, and confronted him. ”So, what, are you stalking me or something?”

The man looked up at him, blue eyes earnest, as he replied simply, “Yes.”

Dean’s eyes bugged out, and he blew out a large puff of air, before giving the other man the most incredulous look he could manage. “What?! Are you kidding-- Why?!”

“Because I think you’re interesting. I want to get to know you better. By the way, my name is Castiel Novak. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He brought up his arm suddenly, offering his hand, with the barest hint of a pleased smile on his lips. “I believe this is the part where you introduce yourself now. You don’t want to be rude, do you?”

Dean rolled his eyes up, before covering them with a hand. Was this guy serious? He breathed out, long and slow as he dragged his hand down his face. “Fine. Whatever. I know I’m gonna regret this, but...” He reached up and firmly grasped Castiel’s hand, shaking it properly. “I’m Dean. Dean Smith.”

Castiel’s smile grew, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle, and he squeezed Dean’s hand once before letting go. “Dean. I like that. Your name suits you.”

“Uh, yeah, thanks... I think. So, just for curiosity’s sake... Why were you stalking me, exactly?”

“Well, I wasn't technically stalking you. Not really.” Castiel was so matter-of-fact about it, and it sort of threw Dean for a loop. “I noticed you eat at the same place at least three times a week. It wasn’t that hard to just wait around for you.”

“I dunno, man. It still seems kind of creepy.”

Castiel shrugged. “It’s not like I followed you to your house or anything, and you were pretty adamant about not talking to me. I wasn’t really sure how else to get your attention aside from try and have a nice lunch with you.” He gave him a small smile, and Dean huffed out a laugh despite himself.

“Okay, fine. Maybe I could’ve been a little more friendly, but you’re also kind of strange, and I don’t usually talk to people who, uh...” Dean floundered then, waving his hand helplessly in Cas’s direction.

“Who look like a dirty hippie? Yeah, I’ve heard all that before.” Dean clenched his jaw shut, swallowing hard, but Castiel didn’t seem offended. In fact, he spread his arms wide, showing himself off, that same little smirk still on his lips. When he dropped his arms back down, Dean noticed how the loose green shirt he was wearing started sliding down a shoulder, revealing part of Cas’s collarbone. His eyes ticked away quickly. “So, how about we try this again. You can call me Cas, and we should meet for lunch. Tomorrow. Same place as this first time. Sound good?”

Dean nodded, smiling a little now. “Yeah, sounds good Cas. See you tomorrow.” With that, Cas waved, winked at him, then turned and walked away. Dean shook his head. He had no idea what he was getting into, but he had to admit that Cas was interesting, and he found himself really wanting to figure the guy out.

“So, I think you should come over for dinner soon.”

“What?” Dean looked up at Cas, who had shoved an unnecessary amount of fries into his mouth after he finished speaking. Dean gave him an expectant look as he waited for him to finish chewing and finally swallow.

“Dinner. My house. I think you should come over for it.” Cas was staring off to the side, picking at his fries absently now.

Dean’s brow furrowed as he watched Cas. They hadn’t been spending time together for very long, only a few weeks, but even he could tell the guy was acting weird. Almost nervous. “I can... I can probably do that.” Admittedly, Dean wasn’t too sure about actually going to Cas’s house. He knew the guy was off in his own world, and trying to imagine where he lived usually brought guilt-inducing images of a tiny dark hovel with clothes thrown everywhere and pizza boxes stacked in the corner and all sorts of drug paraphernalia he couldn’t even begin to name covering every available surface. He liked Cas, though, really liked him, for all his oddities and strangeness and very probable drug addiction, and Dean didn’t really have much in the way of friendships, so he figured he could do this one thing.

Cas finally looked at him then, eyes wide and round and entirely too sincere, and it made Dean feel like someone had just punched him in the gut. “Yeah? Cool. Good. Uh, you should come over Friday. About eight. I can have dinner done by then.”

Dean nodded. “Alright. I’ll make sure I’m out of work by then, and I’ll come right over.” Cas smiled at him then, slow and easy, and Dean smiled back.

Dean was absolutely not freaking out about going to Cas’s, really, he wasn’t. Okay, so he never, ever went to that side of town, and he had no idea what Cas’s place was like or if he even lived in a real house, and he probably couldn’t eat whatever Cas was making for dinner, but still, it wasn’t like he was worried or anything.

Except for the part where he totally was. He didn’t want to let Cas down, which was why he was driving to the address he was given, following his GPS’ directions, but he was still working himself up until he was a bundle of nerves. This was somehow worse than negotiating a big, important account that would have resulted in his ass getting thoroughly chewed before getting fired if he screwed up. Dean had the passing thought that maybe this was why he didn’t really have friends outside of work.

He still hadn’t calmed down by the time he reached Cas’s, and it took him an entire five minutes before he could make himself get out of the car and knock on the door. When Cas opened the door, he had a lazy smile on his face, and his eyes were slightly unfocused.

“There you are... Come in. Please.” Cas moved aside so Dean could enter the house. He looked around, slightly confused and more than a little surprised. From what he could tell, Cas’s place wasn’t pristine, but it was clean, and there was nothing immediately frightening in sight. “Oh, come on now,” Cas muttered, from close behind him. “It’s not that bad, is it? I made sure I cleaned and everything, just for you.”

“What? No, Cas, it’s fine, I’m not uh...” Dean coughed into his hand then, trying to hide his embarrassment. “It’s just fine. Kinda’ wanna know what that smell is, though.” Cas raised an eyebrow, and gave him a knowing look. He squinted back at him, pursing his lips in his confusion, for a long moment until the pieces started to slide into place. Then his eyes went wide. “Are you-- Are you high?!”

“Usually, yes. That a problem?”

Dean made a choked noise, and flailed his hands around. “Yes, no, maybe, I don’t know, I mean, it’s not like, going to affect me is it? ‘Cause, dude, I could get fired for something like this!”

Cas snorted. “You’re fine, calm down. I did it before you got here, it can’t do a damn thing to you.”

“Okay, but-- Why?!”

Cas shrugged. “I needed to calm down. I was... nervous.”

“Nervous about what?”

Cas’s eyes flicked over to look at Dean, and he frowned slightly. “You. You make me nervous, okay? You’re too clean, you know that?” he spat. “I don’t have a damn problem with the way I live, but you make me feel dirty.”

“Woah, hey, Cas.” Dean held his hands up placatingly. “You’re the one who asked me over, remember? That’s why I’m here.”

Cas side-eyed him for a moment, before he sighed, and shook his head. “Yeah, you are. I didn’t think you were going to come.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I could tell you didn’t want to come.” Cas smirked at him then, and shuffled closer to throw an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “I’m willing to bet you thought I was going to tie you up, throw you in the basement, and do all sorts of unspeakable things to you, right?” He nosed at the spot behind Dean’s ear as he finished talking.

Dean yelped, and shoved at Cas’s face. “Y’know, Cas, when you say things like that, it really makes me question this friendship.”

Cas laughed, and pushed off of Dean so he could start walking towards the kitchen. “C’mon, dinner’ll be done soon.”

Dean’s eyes went wide when Cas a large plate of one of the best looking salads down in front of him. He could only stare as the other man finished putting plates on the table. He only looked up when Cas sat across from him, and realized that they weren’t having the same thing.

“Something wrong?” Cas asked when he realized Dean was still staring.

“Uh, no... Did you, uh... Did make this just for me?” Dean pointed at his salad, and tried not to feel like an idiot over his total lack of eloquence.

“Yes, of course I did.”

“But... why?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “That’s the kind of crap you eat, isn’t it? Look, I know your types. You give up half of everything you’re supposed to eat, and one bite makes you horrendously sick. I know my place isn’t much to look at, but I’d rather you didn’t redecorate it with everything you’ve eaten since breakfast.”

Dean made a face, scrunching up his nose. “Ew.”

“Yeah, ew. Now eat your food.”

After dinner, Dean and Cas were sitting together on the couch, watching some movie on tv. It was starting to get late, but Dean was comfortable and didn’t feel like leaving just yet. He was starting to drift off, when Cas slumped over, leaning against his shoulder. He looked down at the same time Cas looked up, eyes apologetic. He didn’t move though, just stared, and Dean’s breath hitched.

Something in the air around him suddenly seemed charged and electric, and as Cas shifted closer, Dean swallowed hard against the strange feelings forming like something physical in his throat. He closed his eyes, and for a moment all he could do was breathe. He felt Cas’s fingers slide across the back of his hand, and his own twitched at the contact, be he didn’t pull away.

“Dean...” His name was on Cas’s lips, low and questioning, and Dean finally opened his eyes. Cas was close, very close, partially hovering over Dean. His eyes were half-lidded, darker than normal where they were visible, and lips parted slightly. His hand travelled lightly up Dean’s arm, and curved over his shoulder, fingertips just barely brushing Dean’s neck above the collar of his shirt. Dean made a small whimper of a sound, but he held Cas’s gaze as he nodded, once, almost imperceptibly.

Cas let out a relieved sigh, tension noticeably leaving him, and closed his eyes as he leaned the rest of the way forward. His chapped lips pressed against Dean’s, and after a few seconds, Dean finally responded, mouth moving slightly against the other man’s. Cas made a pleased noise, and moved his hand up to cup the side of Dean’s face, thumb rubbing gently just below his eye.

As Cas kissed him, Dean finally closed his eyes again, and let everything else slip away from him until he could only concentrate on Cas. The way he was leaning over him, the way his fingers felt on his skin, the way he kissed sure and slow, like he was guiding Dean. When he felt Cas’s tongue slide across his bottom lip, he opened up for him immediately, and when Cas deepened the kiss, he groaned into the other man’s mouth.

Dean found himself completely helpless to Cas’s touch. The other man had taken Dean’s hand and intertwined their fingers, and he used his other to trail down Dean’s neck with feather-light touches, stopping at his tie. He curled his fingers around the knot, and tugged on it to loosen it up. Dean hardly noticed, with the way Cas’s tongue was curling around his, and encouraging it into his mouth, where he sucked on it. The action caused Dean to moan, and arch away from the arm of the couch, and press into Cas’s body.

The contact, however brief, seemed to snap Dean out of the haze that had filled his mind. His eyes shot open, and he made a panicked noise, wrenching his hand away from Cas’s grip to smack it against his shoulder. He forcefully pushed at Cas, shoving him back, and he gasped in air.

Cas’s eyes narrowed, staring at him in confusion. “Dean, what...?”

“I can’t do this!” he blurted out. “Cas, I... Look, this isn’t-- I don’t-- I’m sorry. I have to go.” He jerked away from Cas, off the couch, and started towards the door with a sense of urgency. His heart was racing, and he tried not to think about why as he grabbed his jacket. He pulled it on quickly, barely got his arm all the way through the other sleeve before opening the front door.

“Dean! Wait!” Cas called out to him, and he could hear the other man walking after him, but he couldn’t turn around; couldn’t face him. He could only think about getting out of there as soon as possible. “Dean!” Before Cas could get to him, he stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him with more force than he meant. He then bolted to the elevator, not wanting to give Cas the opportunity to catch him, not wanting to give himself time to think about what had happened. Not until he was back home, where he could freak out in the safety of his own apartment.

Cas had tried to call Dean sometime after he ran out on him, but Dean was in the shower and missed it. He couldn’t bring himself to call back until the next day, but then Cas didn’t answer. He didn’t answer any of the other times Dean tried to call either. He couldn’t work up the nerve to go by Cas’s house, but he spent lunch every day at the cafe where they met, hoping he would show up. It had almost been a week before Dean spotted a familiar dark-haired head on his walk back to the Sandover building.

“Cas!” At hearing his name, Cas started looking around for the source. When his eyes fell on Dean, they widened, and Dean caught the flash of emotion in them before they hardened. He turned back around, seemingly intent on just completely ignoring Dean.

“Cas, wait! Please!” Dean rushed forward, dodging around a few people so he could get to Cas before he disappeared into the crowd. “Cas!” He reached out, curling his fingers around Cas’s bicep and tugging. Cas halted, looking over his shoulder to glare at Dean. His face twisted into something that Dean was fairly sure was a snarl, and he tensed up as if he were going to yank his arm out of Dean’s grasp, but then he deflated all at once, sighing deeply.

“What do you want, Dean?” His voice sounded tired, and he looked away.

“I...” Dean swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat. “Look, Cas, I want you to know I’m sorr--”

“Don’t, Dean. Just... don’t.” Cas shifted, turning to face Dean, and he finally released his arm, grip going slack. He looked worn out, and a bit sad, and Dean suddenly realized how carefully Cas schooled his expressions, and how much he must have hurt him to crack his mask like that. Something in his chest started to hurt, and he wanted to kick himself for ever doing this to his friend. “I don’t want your apologizes, not the way you mean them. I was the one who messed up. I thought that... I thought that maybe you wanted...” Cas clenched his jaw shut, swallowed hard. “I see now I was only projecting what I wanted onto you. You’ll never...”

“Cas...” Dean reached a hand out, stopped short when Cas flinched away, then cautiously placed it against his shoulder. Somehow in the time they had known each other, touching shoulders had become their thing, and he knew he wasn’t really prepared to let that go. “Look, Cas, I... You’re my friend, alright? We are still friends, aren’t we? I don’t... I don’t want to lose you over this.”

Cas’s drew his mouth into a thin line, and his expression was completely unreadable. After a moment he sighed, and looked away. “Yes, Dean. We’re still friends. I just... I need a few days to myself. Alright?”

Dean nodded, trying to choke back on the panicked feeling welling up from the pit of his stomach. “Okay, Cas.”

Cas nodded back, already moving away from Dean. “I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye, Dean.” With that, he turned around, and walked away. Dean watched him go until he was lost in the throng of people. He then took off in the other direction, wanting to get back to the relative privacy of his office as soon as possible.

Dean had tried to give Cas his space, he really did, but it had been a week since he had caught any trace of Cas, and in all honesty, it was driving him completely crazy. He hadn't been sleeping well, spending his nights tossing and turning and obsessing about Cas, and how much he had hurt him. It had started to interfere with his work, and he just barely caught and corrected a big mistake he had made before it could cause problems the day before. The last thing he needed was Adler on his ass on top of everything else.

To make things worse, when he wasn't thinking about how pissed Cas was at him, Dean was remembering the way he kissed him. And the way he kissed back. It was... it was really good. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been kissed like that, or if he ever had in the first place. He suddenly didn’t think so. Maybe he would never be kissed that way again. Dean groaned and rolled onto his back, staring blankly up at his bedroom ceiling.

“I’m really stupid, aren’t I?” he asked of his empty room. The silence felt like it was agreeing that, yes, Dean Smith was the stupidest person on the planet. He smacked his hand over his face and muttered, “Crap, okay, fine, I get it,” between his fingers. After letting out a deep sigh, he turned his head to look at the alarm clock. 1:35 AM. Cas was probably asleep, just like he should be. Even if he was still awake, Dean figured he should try and call first. It was the polite thing to do. “Yeah, to hell with this,” he grumbled, and rolled off his bed so he could pull some clothes on.

Dean took in a deep, calming breath, before he knocked on Cas’s door. He waited, putting his hands in his pockets, shuffling from foot to foot as he looked down at the ground. After what felt like far too many seconds passing, he knocked again, this time longer, and with more urgency. “Cas, are you there? Cas, it’s Dean! I-I need to talk to you!” He started to knock again, when he heard the sound of a lock clicking, and then the door swung open to reveal Cas. He looked more disheveled than usual, dressed only in a pair of of brown yoga pants.

“Dean, wha--” Cas broke off with a yawn, and rubbed at his eyes. “What do you want?”

At first, Dean couldn’t speak, only stare. For the first time in a week, Cas was right in front of him, real, and looking so adorably grumpy that Dean wondered how he could ever let himself hurt him. He wanted to ask for forgiveness, be rational, talk things out, but instead he lunged forward, taking Cas’s face in his hands, and he kissed him, hard. Then he kissed him again.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Cas. I’m so sorry,” he got out between kisses, selfishly not giving Cas a chance to speak. He didn’t want to be rejected, the way he rejected Cas. He just wanted to keep kissing him, and the way Cas was kissing back, hands fisted into his shirt made it even harder to stop. He did, though, pulling back, watching as Cas slowly opened his eyes to look at him, gaze slightly unfocused.

“Dean...? What the... hell was that?”

“I’m sorry, Cas. I’m stupid, okay? I’m really, really stupid. Look, the other day, I didn’t mean to... I mean... Cas, please don’t push me away.” Dean covered his mouth with a hand to keep himself from saying anything more, since he was barely making sense to begin with. His eyes were starting to sting, threatening tears, and he blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

Cas crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes as he stared Dean down. “You make no sense. Look, Dean, I know you’re probably not being an ass on purpose, but I’m not going to let you play games with me.” Dean opened his mouth to speak, and Cas held up two fingers to stop him. “You can play the whitebread repressed corporate jerk all you want, but you don’t get to toy with me because you’re ‘confused’ or ‘curious’ or, or want some sort of fucking thrill. Understand me?” When Dean nodded, Cas finally put his hand down, and took a step forward again. “I really like you, Dean. I want to give you a chance.”

“Please.” Dean inwardly flinched at how desperate his voice sounded to even his own ears. “Please, Cas, that’s all I want. I... I’m not even good at friendships, I have no idea what I’m doing when to comes to, to...” Dean waved his hand between himself and Cas. “Whatever this is between us, Cas, I’m going in blind. But, I know that I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

Cas closed his eyes, breathing out slowly. He took another step forward, putting his hands on Dean’s chest, causing the other man’s breath to hitch. “Yes. Yes, Dean.” He then raised his head, and kissed Dean gently on the lips.

Dean made a relieved noise in his throat, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Cas’s. “What do we do now?”

“What do you want, Dean?”

Dean opened his eyes again, to look into Cas’s blue ones. “I think... I think I want you to bring me inside, and kiss me. Kiss me until I can’t think anymore.”

Cas grinned, and moved to take one of Dean’s hands in his own. “I think I can do that.” He gently pulled Dean inside, closed the door behind him, and led him over to the couch. They sat down, and Cas wasted no time in leaning close, putting a hand on Dean’s jaw before kissing him, soft and slow and sweet. They kissed for a long time, until Dean was on his back and Cas was laying on top of him, hands slowly exploring. When they fell asleep, Cas had his face buried in Dean’s neck, and Dean had his arms wrapped around Cas.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean whined as he kneaded at the muscles in his neck. “I can’t believe I fell asleep on your couch. That was so dumb.”

“I do it all the time,” Cas answered from the kitchen.

“That’s you. Eugh, and I slept in my clothes, how did I let this happen? I have to go home.” Dean stood up, and raised his arms so he could stretch out his back.

Cas chuckled as he came out to lean against the wall. “It’s not that bad. You don’t have work today, right? You should stay here for a while.”

“No, but...” Dean huffed, plucking at the light blue polo he’d throw on last night. “Cas, I have to change...”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Y’know, you could just, oh, not wear anything. That way you don’t have to run all the way home.”

Dean’s eyes went wide, and he whipped his head around to stare at Cas, which did not help the twinge in his neck. The bastard was leaning a hip against the wall with his arms crossed, an eyebrow raised and that barely-there smirk that just oozed smugness on his lips. “Wha... You’re not serious, are you?” He looked Cas up and down, and it suddenly struck him that Cas had never actually put a shirt on, and those pants hung pretty low on his waist. Dean swallowed. Okay, so Cas was probably completely serious. “I, um. Wouldn’t that be weird, or... something?”

Cas pushed himself away from the wall, and actually sauntered over to Dean. He put a hand on his left shoulder, and leaned in close. “There’s nothing wrong with nudity, Dean. You know, removing such layers can actually help you find your balance, become closer to nature. Everyone should do it now and again.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, giving Cas a disbelieving look. “Uh-huh. Is that true, or you just spouting fake hippie bullcrap at me so I’ll take my clothes off?”

Cas shrugged, completely unabashed. “It’s totally hippie-sounding bullshit. Did it work?”

Dean rolled his eyes, but his face was breaking into a large grin. “Maybe later. Alright, you win, I’ll stick around, but we’ve got to go out for breakfast soon. I need coffee-- Real coffee.”

Cas snapped his mouth shut. “I need to break you of that habit, there is nothing wrong with the coffee I have.” He sighed dramatically, and padded towards the staircase.

“Yeah, there is! It’s swill!” Dean shouted at his retreating figure.

“And you’re a brat!” Cas called back. He winked at Dean before disappearing up the stairs.