Pink Champagne - Chapter One, Part A
Title: Pink Champagne - Chapter One, Part A
Rating: Overall rating NC-17. Chapter rating PG-13
Authors: bellacatbee and nileflood
Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel and Adam/Michael
Includes: Cross-dressing, homophobia
Summary: Dean used to know he was straight but since he met Castiel everything’s confused. Castiel dresses like a girl but only for his job, Adam’s experimenting with make-up and Dean knows this is all the fault of Sam’s gender and sexuality course. AU.
A/N: None of this is meant to be disrespectful. If you do find anything questionable or offensive then please do tell us and we’ll change it. Warnings will change with chapters.
<< Part A | Part B >>
Sam sometimes wondered why he’d taken the Gender and Sexuality class. It was an elective and it didn’t even have to do with his core subject but it had appealed to him. He found it fascinating. Growing up with his father and Dean hadn’t really left a lot of room for anything that was considered unmanly. Dean even sneered at salad as being “girly food.” Adam was a bit better, Kate had managed to bring him up with the understanding that men and women were not a separate species (and saw him over enough weekends that she knocked any stupid ideas out of his head) but the more time he spent around Dean the more he seemed to be developing a defensive masculine front he put up in order to deflect his older brother’s teasing. Or at least that was how Sam was seeing things since he’d begun taking the class.
He still wasn’t sure why he’d picked this exact area to write his end of term paper on. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t have written it on other topics. Latent Homosexual Tendencies in Masculine Stereotypes had practically been shouting his name at the top of its voice but Sam knew that he’d just end up illustrating that one with points out of his own life and he didn’t want to think about the latent homosexual tendencies in his dad and Bobby’s fishing trips or any of the stuff Dean did. So he’d ended up picking the question on drag queens instead. It was a pretty interesting subject but he could have done all his research from books really. He didn’t need to come down to the Candy Club and get some personal anecdotes from the boys working there but Sam wanted a top mark in the class. Proving that he could do more than sit in the library and read to back up his theory was going to get him that top mark. Admittedly he didn’t know what his theory was yet. He’d do the research and then make up his mind.
Still, he didn’t want to go to the Candy club on his own. Guys who went there on their own were weird and since Sam wanted to talk to the entertainers he felt it was better to be there with someone. Adam had begged off the moment Sam told him where he was going and he hadn’t wanted to push his little brother. That had left Dean because there was no way Sam was asking his dad to come along with him. That was a conversation right there he never wanted to have. Sam had always known how to twist his brother round his little finger and now they were here, sitting in a corner of the Candy club, sipping beers and watching the lovely Gabriella going through her stand-up routine. He knew he was going to owe Dean big for this, especially after some of the jokes about penis size.
**
Dean couldn't imagine anywhere he'd want to be less than here. There was nowhere on the planet that would have been worse. The comic, well, he was fucking dreadful. Sam hadn't let him bring in a magazine, there was no food to speak of and he was bored. The fact that the place served beer was the only thing in its favour and even if Dean thought it was a bit over-priced, he was willing to deal with that. The alcohol was welcome.
"So when can we leave?" He asked, shifting uneasily. Thank fuck they were at the back, out of sight. Everyone else's eyes, including Sam’s, were at the entertainer on stage. Dean was beginning to wonder exactly what was going on in his younger brother's head. Sexuality was fun if it was girls in Busty Asians but this place dealt with a weird, weird fetish and on the way over Dean had considered asking Sam if there was something he wanted to tell him.
Sure, everyone said they were bisexual now, it was almost fashionable, but Sam was tall, handsome, even if he did have kiddy dimples. He wouldn't really ever... no. He wasn't. He wasn't even bi, probably. Just trying to fit in. They'd always tried to fit in. They were certainly better at it than Gabriella. That guy was a joke.
Sam sighed and took a swig from his bottle of beer, staring out at the stage rather than at his brother. Dean had been the best of a bad choice but practically since they got out the car he’d been asking if it was time for them to leave yet. They’d only seen two acts and it wasn’t even nine o’clock. “Not yet, Dean. I haven’t spoken to anyone. I need to get some proper research and as good as this act is, it doesn’t really count.” Sam thought the comic on stage was brilliant. Most of the jokes were probably flying straight over Dean’s head which was a good thing but Sam was recognising a couple of the guys he’d dated in stories Gabriella was telling although with exaggerated affect.
The comic finished her final joke and Sam put down his beer so he could clap. He wondered if he’d need to hang around backstage to be able to talk to any of the performers or if it would be better if he went up to the bar and found someone to ask. There had to be someone about, a manager or someone who could tell him if it was even possible for Sam to talk to them. He knew that some of these places were pretty firm about the line between customer and performer in case patrons started thinking they were getting anything more than the act they saw up on stage.
Gabriella was leaving and the lights dimmed for a moment as the stage was set up for the next act. “Maybe once we’ve watched this next guy we can go.” Sam said to his brother as the next performer was announced. ‘Please can we have a big round of applause for the lovely Misha.’ The stage was silhouetted in spotlight, a waif like figure standing there in a sequined white dress, hugging a microphone and Sam squinted. “Misha is a guy’s name.” He said after a moment to no one in general but himself.
Whatever Sam was saying Dean didn't hear. The club erupting into applause and clearly this next act was a popular one. He wasn't sure what the lovely Misha did but considering the response it was probably pole-dancing. Dean risked looking up from his beer just as the first chords of a song filtered through the warm air and he couldn't have torn his eyes away from the stage if he'd wanted to.
Gabriella was too short and too obnoxious for Dean to have taken any shine to, too obviously a man in a wig and heels, but Misha, now Misha was cute, and those big, blue eyes were visible even from the back. Hell, this guy was cuter than some of the girls Dean had dated. He wasn't about to admit that, not where people could hear but in the privacy of his own head, it was okay. He tucked in his chair a bit, ignoring his beer and listened. Sam was always going on about how he never respected people or didn't give them the chance, well, now he was.
"You need to interview this one." Dean told him, leaning over the mutter at Sam as the song progressed.
“Okay.” Sam said, glancing at his brother out of the corner of his eye. This was as rapt and attentive as Dean had been to anything all evening that didn’t come with a paper label he could peel off. Still at least Dean was taking an interest in his project. Sam could see a silver lining on pretty much anything by this point. He turned his head to look back up to the stage and wondered what it was exactly that Dean was seeing that had him so enrapt. The guy was a bit more convincing than Gabriella, yes but the act as far as Sam was concerned was pretty much an antique. The 60s cut of the dress, the old Dusty Springfield songs. There wasn’t anything new here. There wasn’t anything terribly exciting here but maybe Dean just appreciated the classics.
“Sure, if we can get him to come back here then we can interview him.” Sam said, grabbing a pen from his bag and he clicked the end of it, starting to scribble something down on his napkin. Trust Dean to get them to pick a table at the back. There was no way Sam was going to be able to grab anyone’s attention from here. Dean was just frightened getting seen in a place like this even if Sam kept reminding him that if Dean saw any of his friends here they’d probably be just as embarrassed as Dean and they weren’t likely to be here simply because their little brother begged them.
**
Gabriella was off stage at the bar and getting a drink for himself before moving around the floor to greet one or two of their usual patrons. Nick was at the front, as usual, a glass of scotch-on -the-rocks in hand. Expensive scotch. On the house expensive scotch. Gabriella just sighed to himself, and tried to pretend he hadn’t seen Nick or his drink. He'd had that argument with Luci before about the men he invited over but things never changed. There was no point starting the same fight up all over again. Last time he'd ended up wanting to pull his hair out, almost walking out on the club and his brothers and that would never do. Misha would never forgive him.
There were a couple of newbies in tonight and Gabriella knew he would have recognised them if they'd been in before- they weren't exactly hard on the eyes. He moved towards them, smile a little less fixed, trying not to interrupt but brushing one of their shoulder's gently with long painted nails. "You boys enjoying yourselves?" He asked, in Gabriella’s slightly higher voice, glad of the drink to sooth his throat.
Sam jumped as the hand brushed his shoulder and he looked up at Gabriella, a smile breaking out across his face. Maybe he wasn’t going to have to skulk by the stage door to get those interviews after all. “Yeah! Your set was fantastic. That joke you did about the guy who brags about his penis size, I could really relate to that.” Sam said, the words coming out a lot faster than he’d expected them to. “Um, why don’t you sit down? I’m Sam and this is my brother, Dean. It’s our first time here.” He said, pushing out one of the seats with his foot for Gabriella to take.
“Um, would you mind if I asked you some questions? I’m a student and I’m doing a paper on cross-dressing for my class.” Sam dug his student ID out of his pocket quickly and passed it to Gabriella to prove what he was saying was true. “Oh, and do you think we could talk to Misha when she’s finished?”
Dean nodded again, spell not even breaking when he reached for his beer, taking another long swallow. It felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, or maybe he was just thirsty. The heating in the place must have only just kicked in, because it was much, much warmer in here than it had been during Gabriella's set. It was actually, well, comfortable now, and Dean felt he could sit there however long Misha was singing for.
Dean only reacted when the other chair at their table was scraped back over the floor, the sound horrible and distracting as he made a face at Sam, and then at the... man joining their table. He kept his mouth firmly shut though; he didn't need to say anything. Sam could be weird whenever he liked, Dean could ignore him, and so he did, his attention once more back on the stage. Misha was much more interesting and better looking, than Gabriella.
Gabriella didn't seem perturbed though, taking the seat with a grin of gratitude, setting down the bright-green cocktail on the table as he glanced back at the stage too, and then Dean. "Big brother come along for moral support?" He asked, taking the student ID card and giving it a glance. Some guys, on their first trip down to the Candy Club brought a friend, although Gabriella had never heard of someone bringing a brother. Especially the sort of brother who didn't seem all that supportive, although maybe he was reading the vibes pouring off Dean the wrong way. He certainly seemed to be enjoying Misha. "If you think Misha is a cutie, Dean, wait till you meet Luci." Gabriella said, taking the smallest sip from his glass, careful not to smudge the gloss on his lips.
"I'm glad you liked it, Sam. It’s just sad how many of us know assholes like that!" Gabriella said, ignoring Dean's snort as the comedian leant back against the chair, hand moving to brush a stray strand of hair out of the way. "I'll ask Misha, but I won't promise anything. She's very shy." And stand-offish, and prudish and desperate to find a 'normal' job- but Gabriella didn't add any of that, instead letting his eyes drift over Sam and his brother again.
“Yeah. They’re almost as bad as the ‘I’m straight really’ guy. The one who always says he’ll make the exception just for you.” Sam laughed. There were a lot of confused guys in his college. There were a lot of confused guys all over the place. Sam wasn’t confused. He was pretty certain he knew what he wanted and college was a great place for experimenting with that. He hoped Dean wasn’t listening too closely. His brother could talk about girls till the sun went down but Sam had never felt comfortable bringing up the guys he’d dated with Dean. It was kind of liberating to talk, even if it was just in general terms, to Gabriella about them. “I mean if Misha’s shy then that’s okay. I’m sure I can get the information I want from someone else.” Sam really didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. He could respect boundaries and if Misha wanted to stay up on the stage and away from the audience then Sam got that.
Gabriella was laughing then, the smile easy and natural, taking another swallow from the cocktail glass, glad that he'd taken the gamble of coming to sit down with a pair of unfamiliar faces. True, one of them wasn't saying much, but Sammy was more than making up for it. Not only was he sort of cute, but he was smart too, and Gabriella wasn't used to meeting intelligent sorts. Maybe he met them more often than he thought but they weren't always being charming and insightful when they were leering. It was a nice change.
"I'll ask Misha," Gabriella offered again, but they had a rule, albeit unwritten. None of them did anything that made them uneasy. They always backed each other up, and if things got out of hand, they had a security firm and the police on speed-dial. They had always been lucky though, nothing had ever really gotten that bad. Gabriella was more than capable of kicking guys out that disrupted them. But these two, Sam and Dean, they seemed okay. And Gabriella was normally fairly good at working out which of their patrons needed a bit of a wide berth. Nick was counted in that group too, although he was a perfectly nice guy (if you ignored the tan lines where the wedding ring had been a few hours before). He was avoided Nick because Luci would have a fit if he thought Gabriella was trying to get in on that action.
"This paper of yours, Sammy, I can call you Sammy, can't I? Well, this paper of yours, what's it all about?"
“Uh, you can call me Sammy but my name is Sam.” Sam said, leaning in a little closer to Gabriella. “It’s about social constructs of gender and the way in which people deconstruct them and play with them. I wanted to ask some personal questions but you can tell me no to anything. I don’t mind and we can use your stage name if you’d rather.” He dug in his bag again, pulling out his notepad and flipped it open, writing ‘Gabriella’ at the top. “Uh, so, do you want to tell me your other name, your, er, real name?”
“And Dean? He’s here because I thought a guy alone asking questions would come off as creepy.” Sam said, glancing at Dean again and he didn’t want Gabriella getting the wrong impression. Sam was just here because he had his paper to write. He wouldn’t have come to the Candy Club normally and while he’d had fun he probably wouldn’t come back. It wasn’t his sort of scene.
The idea of personal questions didn’t both him too much, because as a comedian there were very few taboo topics, and Gabriella doubted Sammy could throw anything out there that was too shocking. And he'd never been interviewed like this before, it was sort of exciting. But he dropped the high, false voice and answered in his own. "My real name? I'm Bond. James Bond. No, of course I'm not. I'm far sexier. But if I tell you my real name, you'll realise how completely unimaginative I am." He warned, with another grin, before easily giving the information up. "Gabriel. I know, I know. But it was meant to be a stop-gap, and then... things took off and it was too late to change it to something else."
Sam laughed, scribbling down the reply. “Gabriel. I should have guessed but I suppose I wasn’t expecting that lack of subtlety, no. Okay, next question, you’re going to think I’m really invasive and I’m sorry, how would you define your sexuality?” Sam had read up a lot on men and the impulse to wear women’s clothing. Most of the guys had said were straight but from Sam did wonder about that. The Candy Club seemed an unofficial gay hang out and there was a lot of overlap between drag queens and the gay community. He wondered if being gay or at least not heterosexual made you more likely to play with gender roles since you’d already circumvented them to some extent by being interested in your own sex rather than the opposite one.
“And, uh, is cross-dressing something that you do simply for work or is it part of your life outside of the club?” He asked, wondering if Gabriel had been drawn to this type of work because it embraced something inside of him that otherwise he hadn’t had avenues to explore or if this was a job to him and nothing more.
Gabriel clearly didn't think the question was invasive, laughing and reaching out to pat Sam's hand. "I've been asked much worse than that, Sammy. Trust me, I've been playing this game awhile, not much shocks me anymore." And he drained the cocktail glass then, pushing it out of their way. "I guess you'd say I'm bisexual. I like my girls just as much as I like my guys. But my last relationship was with a girl." Ah, Kali. Now she had been an eye-opener. "But that was over a long while ago." He added, waving a hand to dismiss those thoughts. He and Kali had hardly lived up to any gender norms.
"The dressing up? It's a bit of fun, really, isn't it? I mean it's a bit of an opportunity to wear something a little... well, a lot more outrageous than what you might wear to an office, let's say. And it gets some laughs. Once you're used to it, it's no different from wearing anything else and besides these" he indicated his long, clearly-false nails by making claws in the air, "are great for getting into tricky candy wrappers. But I don't wear this sort of thing at home. Or stockings or the rest of it," He added, with a grin, "I don't think most women do, either. That or they can't because their husbands are wearing them."
“Right.” Sam muttered, tongue peeking out between his lips as he scribbled down the answers. He was a little surprised to find out that Gabriel’s most recent partner had been a girl but that was, he supposed, just prejudice on his part. Even so she must have been open minded not to worry about her boyfriend working here or maybe that was why they’d broken up. Sam wasn’t going to pry. He didn’t need to know that for his project. Wanting to know about Gabriel’s personal life was just curiosity. “Um, do you mind if I call you Gabriel or do you want me to call you Gabriella?” Sam asked. It was best if he just went with what he was told.
"Gabriel's fine. Or Gabe. I'm okay with Hey handsome too, you know, if you feel the urge." He grinned, watching Sam scribble on the paper. His answers surely hadn't been all that interesting, had they? There hadn't been any punch lines, no witty commentary, nothing like that at all. But maybe Sam was happy with it anyway. Maybe Sam would come back tomorrow night, minus the brother, and maybe they could have a drink or two. Gabriel wouldn’t mind that at all.
Sam laughed again, scribbling furiously. He wanted to talk to Gabriel more but those were his questions. He’d just wanted to add some colour to his paper with personal anecdotes from people in the business and he now he wasn’t sure how to pad any further. The set on the stage was finishing, people were clapping and Sam shot Gabriel an apologetic look. “That’s all my questions. Could you ask Misha is she’d talk to us, please?”
Clapping indicated that Misha’s set was over and as he’d promised to ask on Sam’s behalf. Gabriel got to his feet, trying to be gracious, trying not to act like he’d really rather stay, even if he had no good reason. He offered the pair a bright smile, bowing his head. Dean was too busy clapping for Misha to notice, and he probably didn’t care. “I’ll have the bar send you over a couple more beers, on the house.” He said, as he began to move away, “It was nice to meet you, Sammy. And Dean.”
“That’s really nice of you and it’s Sam!” Sam called after the retreating figure. He nudged his brother, grinning at him. “See, I told you no one here would bite.” And maybe they’d get to talk to Misha next and Dean would lighten up a little bit. If he didn’t then there was still the prospect of free beer which was more than enough to make Dean happy normally.
Gabriel moved to the bar, getting one of the high-heel wearing bar staff to send over another pair of bottles, before heading back stage. Misha, or rather, Castiel, was already there, and Gabriel wanted to catch him before he started removing the make-up or that beautiful white dress. “One last request, kiddo.” Gabriel said, smiling gently at him. “There’s a student sat at the back, drinking beer with his brother. His name’s Sammy. He wants to ask you some questions. Harmless guys doing a paper. They asked me if you’d speak to them.”
And it was probably best not to mention at that point how hard Dean had been clapping after Misha’s set.
Castiel really just wanted to get off the stage now. His shoes hurt. He knew he should probably have tried wearing them in more before getting up to do a set in them but he don’t want to go walking round his apartment in heels. He was hardly even aware of the applause as he made his way backstage. Gabriel appeared at his elbow and Castiel nearly jumped out of his skin. “Gabriel.” He moaned. He knew that Gabriel and Lucifer thought mingling with the patrons was a good idea. They said it create a fun atmosphere. Castiel thought it just gave creeps more of a chance to try and touch him up.
“Fine.” He muttered. “But then I’m going home. And don’t be too far away, okay?” He didn’t want to cause any scenes and if Gabriel had already talked to these guys and thought they were legitimate then he couldn’t really ignore his brother’s request. The table was at the back of the club though and that meant skirting round the sides because there was no way Castiel was walking passed all those tables. Luci might not mind getting pinched but Castiel minded a lot.
“Hi.” He said, reaching the table. “Gabriella sent me over. Sammy and Dean, right?” He asked, wanting to make sure he was in the right place before he sat down. “I’m Misha.”
Dean was up on his feet as soon as the creature in white reached their table. He didn't pull the chivalry act, not really, but he knew the ropes. And well, this close, Misha was even more beautiful; those blue eyes and the dark hair that framed her face so artfully. Misha was clearly tired, and Dean could understand that- up there on stage, singing for everyone, well, that was hard, and he wanted to put Misha at ease.
"Please, sit down." He said, gesturing to the chair that Gabriella or whatever his name had been had vacated. Misha was a much more welcome addition to the table. "I'm Dean, this is Sam. He's the one doing all the smart stuff. I'm just riding shot-gun tonight." He said, offering a smile and settling down himself then, back into the chair, his fingers catching a beer bottle because he needed something to fidget with. "I thought you were really great up there, by the way." He added, and then realised he'd completely monopolised the singer so far, and probably seemed really creepy too, so he cleared his throat, suddenly sheepish and took a swig from the bottle, shutting up so Sam could get on with what he was meant to be doing.
Manners were a nice thing. Castiel didn’t see too many people with manners around. He sat down in the seat that Dean had pushed out for him and smiled at the man. He was nervous and a bit over enthusiastic but he hadn’t done anything to cause Castiel to be frightened of him yet. There were candles on all the tables, Luci’s idea to make everything seem more intimate and keep the lighting costs down and Dean looked good in the candle light. It fell across his face, highlighting green eyes and a chiselled jaw and hiding anything unsavoury. “Thank you.”
Sam cleared his throat. He didn’t even feel like he was one of the people at the table anymore. “So I’m sure Gabriella explained that I’m researching a paper.” He said, jumping straight in. He wasn’t so nervous now he’d spoken to Gabriella-Gabriel and tried out his questions. “Misha is your stage name, right? Do you mind telling me your real name?”
Castiel fidgeted nervously, glancing over his shoulder just to check that Gabriel was there. He didn’t like giving out his name. It made it too likely that someone would track him down in his life outside the club but he also hated people calling him Misha. It made him wince every time. “I’d rather you didn’t use it in your paper but my name is Castiel. Cas.” He said softly, reaching to push the hair from his face and tuck it neatly behind his ear.
“Cool.” Sam agreed, making a note of that. “And how would you define your sexuality?” He looked up in time to catch Castiel’s whole face flooding red. “You don’t have to answer any of the questions you’re not comfortable with.” He hurried to reassure him, feeling a little bad for just assuming that everyone would be okay with his questions. Not everyone was an extravert.
“Gay.” Castiel said after a moment, looking down at the table. “And this is just a job. I don’t find dressing up like this sexually gratifying.”
As Sam launched into boring-school-talk Dean rolled his eyes. From what little he'd caught, Sam had at least chatted with the other one. He was just badgering Misha- no, Cas- for answers and that just wasn't fair. Cas was taking time out of his evening and Sam just didn't seem very grateful at all. And Cas must have been nervous because Dean saw him, looking back towards where Gabriella or Gabriel or whatever was stood, the other drag-queen offering Cas a thumbs up in support. Sam was not making this very enjoyable at all.
"Er, Cas?" He said, interrupting as the young man blushed. He was a guy, yeah, Dean got that, and he wasn't gay and he wasn't going to ever be gay but he wasn't a cave man. Cas seemed nice. There were probably a lot of guys that really dug the whole girls-clothes things. Not Dean. No one was going to leave the club thinking Dean Winchester was interested in guys, not even cute ones with cute hair-cuts and the biggest, bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. "I've only ever done karaoke so it's not the same but I was pretty thirsty afterwards... Can I get you a bottle of water or something?" He asked. Not booze. He wasn't going to offer to get booze because Castiel would think Dean was hitting on him. And an unopened bottle couldn't be spiked or anything. Play it safe, seem normal, nice, and put the guy at ease before Sam asked any more embarrassing questions.
“Hmm,” Castiel glanced at Dean again, having been paying more attention to Sam since he was the one with the list of embarrassing questions. Hadn’t Gabriel said these guys were harmless? Clearly he and Gabriel had a very different definition of harmless. “Yes, I wouldn’t mind a drink.” He agreed raising his hand slightly to touch his throat. It was a little sore. He’d picked certain songs because they fitted his range better but after about five of them in a row a drink would have been very welcome. A bottle of water wasn’t going to be tampered with and he knew that Gabriel would watch the man just to make sure.
Sam waited for his brother to leave before pressing forward, abandoning his questions now because there was something about the way that Castiel answered that made him eager to dig a little deeper. “So why do you work here then? You don’t seem all that enthusiastic if you don’t mind me saying.”
Castiel paused for a moment, glancing back over at Dean and at Gabriel, using the time to compose what he was going to say in his head. “I work here because my brothers asked me. I suppose you could say it’s a family business and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. The money is good but it’s not my sort of place, not really.” Gabriel and Lucifer looked after him though, in their own strange way. It was better than drifting through life without a job to put his name to although how he was ever going to get out of here now he didn’t know. What place would employ him with a reference from one of his brothers and a CV that said he’d been a female impersonator? Was that really something employers were looking for?
Dean was back with the water only a few minutes later, well aware that Gabriel had also stepped up to the bar at the same time, under the guise of getting another of those bright green cocktails but actually keeping an eye on Dean. He would have said that was a little over-protective but he made sure he ordered a bottled water loud and clear before he paid for it, met Gabriel's gaze and headed back to the table. He didn't like not being trusted. He knew he wasn't always trustworthy, but when he was being a good guy- and he wasn't a schmuck like some of the guys in here probably were- he didn't want people expecting the worst from him.
He put the bottle carefully down on the table by Cas' elbow, offering him a grin as he sat back down himself, happily taking another swallow of his beer. "Working with family is always tough," He agreed, because the Winchesters knew all about that. He'd worked with his Dad and Bobby since he could stand by himself, messing about in cars and then actually learning how to fix them. He'd enjoyed it, for the most part, but if they had a fight, he couldn't leave it at work and forget about it. It came home with him; it rode back in the car with him. It continued through dinner. He guessed though that working here was a lot tougher than working in an auto shop.
"What would you rather do, than work here?" Dean asked, taking over again but he couldn't help it. "You sing fantastically, would you want to do that somewhere else? I mean, I fix cars with my dad and Bobby, but Sam isn't in to that. Hence the college work. But that's not for me."
"Um," Castiel paused, opening the bottle of water and taking a sip as he thought about where he'd rather be. There wasn't really very much he thought he was good at. He was only good at singing because it had been trained into him. "I guess I'd make a good secretary." He said after moment’s pause. "I've got neat handwriting." He could take notes. "I do the clubs accounts. I'm good with numbers. Maybe something like that." Something quiet and in the backroom and away from the spotlight. That was really what Castiel wanted. Maybe when his brothers were a bit more established and they could hire someone to work for them then he could just stay in the back office like he'd always wanted to. It was always only meant to be a part time thing.
"Yeah." Sam said, chewing on his pen now. He wasn't getting any further with his research like this and Dean just seemed happy to play twenty questions with Castiel rather than let Sam get on with it. "I'm going to go talk to Gabriel." He said, pushing his chair back and leaving them to it. Trust Dean to end up hitting on a guy in a dress. Sam could admit that Castiel was pretty enough but he doubted Dean would like him out of that dress and with the make-up off. When he remembered Castiel was actually a dude then it wouldn't be so good. He glanced back just for a second. Still, Castiel didn't seem the type to do anything to get himself hurt. He seemed to play his cards close to his chest.
Castiel watched Sam leave, a little perplexed. "Oh. I guess I'm all yours then, Dean." He said with a slight smile. He liked Dean more out of the two of them. "So you're not in college?" He said softly. "Because I promised Gabriel I'd come over and talk to a guy doing a paper as a favour. I am rather tired." He didn't want to run out on Dean and he was nice but Castiel's feet were aching. He'd kick his shoes off under the table if he wouldn't then need to try and find them again.
Now that sounded good. Misha, Cas, was all his, they could talk and laugh and maybe Dean could get her a beer and they’d relax, it’d be great. Wherever Sam had disappeared to, well, he was a big boy now, he could handle it himself. Dean could handle everything over here perfectly, thank you. But then... then it all came crashing down around his ears. And the smile he’d been wearing faded.
“Oh, no, that’s okay, I understand, it must take a lot out of you.” He said, knowing he was being brushed off. “Thanks for helping though. I know Sam appreciates it. I do too. It was really nice to meet you and... Well, I guess I won’t try and take up more of your time.” No matter how much he’d like to. And he couldn’t even offer Cas a ride home either because he was Sam’s lift too and that would be creepy and probably mean that they’d never see each other again. And man, that sucked.
Castiel frowned. He hadn't meant to sound as if he was trying to excuse himself. He was just exhausted after his set but maybe he could find a little bit more strength if he dug down deep enough and he'd stay there a bit longer for Dean. He slipped his shoes off anyway and wiggled his toes, so glad to get away from that crushing pain for a second or so. "No. I'm being rude. Ignore me."
“You weren’t rude. I was just enjoying your company.” Dean told him. And that was true. He’d felt more than a little disappointed when it seemed Misha was going to leave. And they’d hardly talked at all. “And I appreciate you staying late. But don’t stay too late on my account, alright?” He said.
"No, it’s fine." Castiel promised him. He took another sip of the water and then bit his lip, wondering if he could share the next thing with Dean but nothing yet had made him wary of the man. "If I want to go home I've only got to go upstairs. I live above the club. Saves on bills and stuff, you know? And I can never be late for work." He grinned at the old joke. Even if the three of them lived upstairs Gabriel always managed to be late to everything. "So, what did you think of the show? Are you going to come back?" He hoped Dean would. He seemed nice, not like a lot of the guys they got in.
Dean couldn’t help smile, elbow on the table and his chin in hand. “I guess that would be really, really useful,” He agreed, “And I mean, you’re not far from the rest of the city and everything either, are you? I’d hate to imagine what the rent would be here. We’ve only got a little place, really little and that breaks my heart every time I sign off half my pay-cheque.” He reached for the bottle again- most of it was gone now but he didn’t want to get up for another, he didn’t want to leave Misha.
“The show? Oh, the show! I really liked your bit. I...” He paused, glancing back towards the bar, to that terrible pink sequined dress. He didn’t get what had been so funny about half the stuff the comic had said but Sam seemed to think it was hilarious. “Er, I think the comedy was a bit of an acquired taste?” He said, not wanting to seem like a complete idiot. Misha probably heard the same material every night and probably understood all the jokes. Even the one about the guy bragging about his cock. Dean just didn’t get what was funny about that one at all. He stopped then, because Misha was saying something really, really, really worth listening to.
Was that? That was! It was totally an I want to see you again line! “Well, Sammy will probably be here a few more times while he’s doing this paper and I’ll be coming with him. So yes, I’ll be coming back. I’d like to see you sing again.”
"I know what you mean. It's all Gabriel's stuff. He loves jokes like that, anything filled with innuendo." Castiel shuddered slightly. Gabriel was good at what he did but that didn't mean Castiel didn't find it distasteful and off-colour. "And you have to be careful what you say around him or he'll start building an act based on it. He used to have a joke in there about my first boyfriend but I made him take it out. It was so embarrassing." And about the fact that Castiel's first boyfriend had been his cousin Balthazar but when you lived in the middle of nowhere there wasn't much choice. Castiel died of shame every time Gabriel told that story even if he'd changed it to make it sound as if it was about himself and not his little brother.
Dean offered Misha a little supportive smile. “Family are bad enough when they talk about your dates at dinner, I guess it’s a thousand times worse when it’s on a stage.” He shook his head, unable to imagine why someone would want to embarrass and upset such a pretty thing. Misha was beautiful, those eyes, that mouth, the gorgeous jaw and those cheeks. Dean couldn’t help but like Misha, the whole package, not just those looks, but the careful way words were chosen. Most people would just talk and talk and never really think about what they were saying, never engaging their brain as they chattered away. But everything Misha said, it had weight, it was important. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been said at all.
"You should sit up front next time." He said brightly. "Honestly, Gabriel won't bite. Luci might but just show him that you haven't got a wedding ring and he'll back off." He glanced down at Dean's hands just to check there was no ring there. His hands were all clear of tell-tell tan lines and Castiel smiled. "It'd be nice to see a friendly face out here."
“Next time? Well, okay. Next time I’ll sit up front, if that’s what you’d like.” Right up front no one could see his face either, could they? And if it made Cas smile like that, he could do it. Anything for that smile and to see those blue eyes light up.
“Mmhmm, we save special seats.” Castiel said. Mostly for the men Luci liked it had to be said but he could reserve a seat for Dean. “Just call and when you’re booking tell them I said you should be up front. Say Cas told you, not Misha. Some guys try to get places using our stage names. Whoever answers will know you’re legitimate because you know my name.”
“Okay, I’ll do that.” He said, and he actually meant it too. He wanted to come back and he wanted to hear Cas sing again, wanted to buy another drink and sit and talk and then maybe both of them could go pick up some dinner or something. They could, well, hang out, have some fun. If there were any good films on, maybe they could catch one. It’d be good. “When? I mean, when would you like me to come back? My evenings are sort of unstructured so... any time is good for me.”
He tilted his head a little to the side, considering what Dean said. “I don’t mind. You can come back whenever you like. We’re busy on Fridays and Saturdays. We’re closed on Sunday.” He thought about it. Most of Luci’s men friends came on the weekdays when they could pretend they were staying late at the office. “Come whenever you like. I’m always here. I never have time off.”
“Well, at least you’re saving on rent. And sooner or later they have to let you take some time off. I don’t know, maybe you should just go have a good vacation? Take off for a couple of weeks?” Dean had done that once, although he’d not had savings. He’d taken the car and driven up to the mountains and ‘borrowed’ an empty cabin for a week and he’d had a great time. Although when he’d come back he didn’t feel like he’d really had a break at all.
A vacation? It sounded good but he should just save up for somewhere of his own. Somewhere that didn’t have Lucifer bringing men home at all hours and Gabriel’s stockings drying on the radiator. In fact somewhere were there weren’t men wearing women’s clothing. “I could take a holiday.” He mused, “But I’d need someone to cover for me. Can you sing, Dean?” He glanced up at the man and then smiled. “I am teasing.”
“Can I sing?” Dean repeated, and then as it became clear Misha was joking, Dean relaxed, laughing too. “Only Johnny Cash. Nothing else, sorry.” He explained, grinning and feeling that easiness rush back around them. He felt good, the beer warm in his stomach, Misha beautiful and gentle and fun opposite him, the noises of the club around them just lulling him. This was good, this could last forever.
“So... I’ll call and book a seat up front for Thursday then. I’d like to talk to you more and if it’s busy and noisy, I guess we won’t get much chance.” Dean said after a second of thought. And Thursday was a good night for films and restaurants normally- not too busy either, but there was always a good buzz and besides, he would get paid on Wednesday. He could impress Misha a bit, dress a bit smarter.
“I’d like to talk with you too, Dean.” Castiel said quietly. Maybe they could come and sit out here like this again only if they were up front then in all likelihood they’d hardly be able to hear each other talk. He fished his shoes out from under the table, considering for a moment just carrying them but he didn’t fancy walking back across the floor in only his stockinged feet. He placed the shoes down carefully and tried not to wince as he forced his feet back into them. It was only a short distance to hobble to the backstage now. He stood up, swaying unsteadily for a moment and reached for Dean’s shoulder to steady himself.
"Whoa!" Dean said, watching Misha stumble slightly and catching the thin creature by the hip, moving his hand to Misha’s elbow as soon as he was certain that falling wasn't a possibility, sliding out of his chair. "You are tired, aren't you?" He said gently, and then glanced over to the bar where Sam was being fawned over by the comic in the horrible pink dress. He didn't want to shout, but someone was going to have to make sure Misha was okay. Dean didn't really want to say goodnight now, but if he had to, he could man up and do it. He just didn't want to say goodnight and worry that Misha would fall on the way upstairs.
"Shall I get Gabriella or...?" He began, wondering if Sam and his friend would even hear if Dean shouted, or if he did shout, if everyone in the club would hear. He didn't want to embarrass Misha and he didn't want people looking at him either for that matter. Someone was bound to get the wrong end of the stick.
“No, it’s the shoes.” Castiel said, frowning down at them. They were just a bit too small and pinching his feet. They had probably fallen off the back of a truck somewhere since Gabriel had got them for him. He knew they were knock-offs and shoddy and they’d probably fall apart in three weeks but at the moment they were giving him blisters and he wanted them off. They were also stupidly high and once he was standing up in them he was practically towering over Dean which he didn’t really like. He guessed if he’d kicked them off again and stood face to face with the man he would have been just a little shorter than Dean. He would have tucked in just nicely against Dean’s shoulder. He skirted back away from Dean and back away from that thought.
“No, it’s fine.” He said quickly, brushing his hands down the front of his dress, trying to brush off the feeling of Dean’s hand on his hip. “I just need to go and get all of this off!” He gestured to himself, to the make-up and the dress and everything else that just made this completely uncomfortable for him.
Dean stepped back slightly, Misha clearly uneasy with the touch, even though Dean hadn't meant it. He'd just wanted to stop an accident. "Sorry." He breathed, and then offered the singer a small smile, "I didn't think they looked that comfortable. You should get them to splash out and get you a better pair. You deserve that much."
And then his shifted, realising this was good night. Misha was tired, wanting desperately leave, politely yes, but leave all the same. "Well, I'll let you go home, I guess?" Dean said, trying to smile and be polite too, even if he didn't want to say goodbye. But it was only fair. He'd taken a lot of the singer's time up that night and who couldn't blame Misha for wanting to go.
"I hope you have a really nice evening. I really enjoyed meeting you. And I'll be over, Thursday. But I think I have to peel my brother away from the bar."
“Well,” Castiel said, peering passed Dean to the two at the bar. “If your brother orders a few more drinks I think maybe we can afford to start spending a bit more on the wardrobe department.” He smiled at Dean then, just to show him he was joking again. If people did order more of the cocktails then they’d start to do more than break even. Once they had the money to splash out then Castiel was getting heels with a comfortable padded sole. No, he reminded himself, once they were breaking even he was going back to being the accountant and Misha was going back into the box and not coming out again.
“I’m sorry I’m so tired, Dean.” He said softly, “But do come back Thursday. I’ll try and be a bit more awake.” He’d have a lay in whatever Gabriel or Lucifer had to say on the subject because it wasn’t as if either of them was up at the crack of dawn. He’d mainline coffee even though Lucifer complained that it made Castiel’s voice all croaky. He’d take a painkiller before he put his shoes on so he couldn’t feel them as much. He’d do something so he didn’t seem so rude when Dean came back. “I’ll see you then.” He said, waving and turning then to totter away from Dean, holding his hands out a little to balance himself. How women walked in these things he didn’t know but then again most of them probably weren’t trying to find the highest pair of heels they could and jam their oversized feet into them.
He got backstage and collapsed, kicking off the shoes and reaching down to rub at his feet. It was certainly a night for a bath even if Lucifer did shout at him for using all the hot water.
( Part B >> )
Rating: Overall rating NC-17. Chapter rating PG-13
Authors: bellacatbee and nileflood
Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel and Adam/Michael
Includes: Cross-dressing, homophobia
Summary: Dean used to know he was straight but since he met Castiel everything’s confused. Castiel dresses like a girl but only for his job, Adam’s experimenting with make-up and Dean knows this is all the fault of Sam’s gender and sexuality course. AU.
A/N: None of this is meant to be disrespectful. If you do find anything questionable or offensive then please do tell us and we’ll change it. Warnings will change with chapters.
<< Part A | Part B >>
Sam sometimes wondered why he’d taken the Gender and Sexuality class. It was an elective and it didn’t even have to do with his core subject but it had appealed to him. He found it fascinating. Growing up with his father and Dean hadn’t really left a lot of room for anything that was considered unmanly. Dean even sneered at salad as being “girly food.” Adam was a bit better, Kate had managed to bring him up with the understanding that men and women were not a separate species (and saw him over enough weekends that she knocked any stupid ideas out of his head) but the more time he spent around Dean the more he seemed to be developing a defensive masculine front he put up in order to deflect his older brother’s teasing. Or at least that was how Sam was seeing things since he’d begun taking the class.
He still wasn’t sure why he’d picked this exact area to write his end of term paper on. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t have written it on other topics. Latent Homosexual Tendencies in Masculine Stereotypes had practically been shouting his name at the top of its voice but Sam knew that he’d just end up illustrating that one with points out of his own life and he didn’t want to think about the latent homosexual tendencies in his dad and Bobby’s fishing trips or any of the stuff Dean did. So he’d ended up picking the question on drag queens instead. It was a pretty interesting subject but he could have done all his research from books really. He didn’t need to come down to the Candy Club and get some personal anecdotes from the boys working there but Sam wanted a top mark in the class. Proving that he could do more than sit in the library and read to back up his theory was going to get him that top mark. Admittedly he didn’t know what his theory was yet. He’d do the research and then make up his mind.
Still, he didn’t want to go to the Candy club on his own. Guys who went there on their own were weird and since Sam wanted to talk to the entertainers he felt it was better to be there with someone. Adam had begged off the moment Sam told him where he was going and he hadn’t wanted to push his little brother. That had left Dean because there was no way Sam was asking his dad to come along with him. That was a conversation right there he never wanted to have. Sam had always known how to twist his brother round his little finger and now they were here, sitting in a corner of the Candy club, sipping beers and watching the lovely Gabriella going through her stand-up routine. He knew he was going to owe Dean big for this, especially after some of the jokes about penis size.
**
Dean couldn't imagine anywhere he'd want to be less than here. There was nowhere on the planet that would have been worse. The comic, well, he was fucking dreadful. Sam hadn't let him bring in a magazine, there was no food to speak of and he was bored. The fact that the place served beer was the only thing in its favour and even if Dean thought it was a bit over-priced, he was willing to deal with that. The alcohol was welcome.
"So when can we leave?" He asked, shifting uneasily. Thank fuck they were at the back, out of sight. Everyone else's eyes, including Sam’s, were at the entertainer on stage. Dean was beginning to wonder exactly what was going on in his younger brother's head. Sexuality was fun if it was girls in Busty Asians but this place dealt with a weird, weird fetish and on the way over Dean had considered asking Sam if there was something he wanted to tell him.
Sure, everyone said they were bisexual now, it was almost fashionable, but Sam was tall, handsome, even if he did have kiddy dimples. He wouldn't really ever... no. He wasn't. He wasn't even bi, probably. Just trying to fit in. They'd always tried to fit in. They were certainly better at it than Gabriella. That guy was a joke.
Sam sighed and took a swig from his bottle of beer, staring out at the stage rather than at his brother. Dean had been the best of a bad choice but practically since they got out the car he’d been asking if it was time for them to leave yet. They’d only seen two acts and it wasn’t even nine o’clock. “Not yet, Dean. I haven’t spoken to anyone. I need to get some proper research and as good as this act is, it doesn’t really count.” Sam thought the comic on stage was brilliant. Most of the jokes were probably flying straight over Dean’s head which was a good thing but Sam was recognising a couple of the guys he’d dated in stories Gabriella was telling although with exaggerated affect.
The comic finished her final joke and Sam put down his beer so he could clap. He wondered if he’d need to hang around backstage to be able to talk to any of the performers or if it would be better if he went up to the bar and found someone to ask. There had to be someone about, a manager or someone who could tell him if it was even possible for Sam to talk to them. He knew that some of these places were pretty firm about the line between customer and performer in case patrons started thinking they were getting anything more than the act they saw up on stage.
Gabriella was leaving and the lights dimmed for a moment as the stage was set up for the next act. “Maybe once we’ve watched this next guy we can go.” Sam said to his brother as the next performer was announced. ‘Please can we have a big round of applause for the lovely Misha.’ The stage was silhouetted in spotlight, a waif like figure standing there in a sequined white dress, hugging a microphone and Sam squinted. “Misha is a guy’s name.” He said after a moment to no one in general but himself.
Whatever Sam was saying Dean didn't hear. The club erupting into applause and clearly this next act was a popular one. He wasn't sure what the lovely Misha did but considering the response it was probably pole-dancing. Dean risked looking up from his beer just as the first chords of a song filtered through the warm air and he couldn't have torn his eyes away from the stage if he'd wanted to.
Gabriella was too short and too obnoxious for Dean to have taken any shine to, too obviously a man in a wig and heels, but Misha, now Misha was cute, and those big, blue eyes were visible even from the back. Hell, this guy was cuter than some of the girls Dean had dated. He wasn't about to admit that, not where people could hear but in the privacy of his own head, it was okay. He tucked in his chair a bit, ignoring his beer and listened. Sam was always going on about how he never respected people or didn't give them the chance, well, now he was.
"You need to interview this one." Dean told him, leaning over the mutter at Sam as the song progressed.
“Okay.” Sam said, glancing at his brother out of the corner of his eye. This was as rapt and attentive as Dean had been to anything all evening that didn’t come with a paper label he could peel off. Still at least Dean was taking an interest in his project. Sam could see a silver lining on pretty much anything by this point. He turned his head to look back up to the stage and wondered what it was exactly that Dean was seeing that had him so enrapt. The guy was a bit more convincing than Gabriella, yes but the act as far as Sam was concerned was pretty much an antique. The 60s cut of the dress, the old Dusty Springfield songs. There wasn’t anything new here. There wasn’t anything terribly exciting here but maybe Dean just appreciated the classics.
“Sure, if we can get him to come back here then we can interview him.” Sam said, grabbing a pen from his bag and he clicked the end of it, starting to scribble something down on his napkin. Trust Dean to get them to pick a table at the back. There was no way Sam was going to be able to grab anyone’s attention from here. Dean was just frightened getting seen in a place like this even if Sam kept reminding him that if Dean saw any of his friends here they’d probably be just as embarrassed as Dean and they weren’t likely to be here simply because their little brother begged them.
**
Gabriella was off stage at the bar and getting a drink for himself before moving around the floor to greet one or two of their usual patrons. Nick was at the front, as usual, a glass of scotch-on -the-rocks in hand. Expensive scotch. On the house expensive scotch. Gabriella just sighed to himself, and tried to pretend he hadn’t seen Nick or his drink. He'd had that argument with Luci before about the men he invited over but things never changed. There was no point starting the same fight up all over again. Last time he'd ended up wanting to pull his hair out, almost walking out on the club and his brothers and that would never do. Misha would never forgive him.
There were a couple of newbies in tonight and Gabriella knew he would have recognised them if they'd been in before- they weren't exactly hard on the eyes. He moved towards them, smile a little less fixed, trying not to interrupt but brushing one of their shoulder's gently with long painted nails. "You boys enjoying yourselves?" He asked, in Gabriella’s slightly higher voice, glad of the drink to sooth his throat.
Sam jumped as the hand brushed his shoulder and he looked up at Gabriella, a smile breaking out across his face. Maybe he wasn’t going to have to skulk by the stage door to get those interviews after all. “Yeah! Your set was fantastic. That joke you did about the guy who brags about his penis size, I could really relate to that.” Sam said, the words coming out a lot faster than he’d expected them to. “Um, why don’t you sit down? I’m Sam and this is my brother, Dean. It’s our first time here.” He said, pushing out one of the seats with his foot for Gabriella to take.
“Um, would you mind if I asked you some questions? I’m a student and I’m doing a paper on cross-dressing for my class.” Sam dug his student ID out of his pocket quickly and passed it to Gabriella to prove what he was saying was true. “Oh, and do you think we could talk to Misha when she’s finished?”
Dean nodded again, spell not even breaking when he reached for his beer, taking another long swallow. It felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, or maybe he was just thirsty. The heating in the place must have only just kicked in, because it was much, much warmer in here than it had been during Gabriella's set. It was actually, well, comfortable now, and Dean felt he could sit there however long Misha was singing for.
Dean only reacted when the other chair at their table was scraped back over the floor, the sound horrible and distracting as he made a face at Sam, and then at the... man joining their table. He kept his mouth firmly shut though; he didn't need to say anything. Sam could be weird whenever he liked, Dean could ignore him, and so he did, his attention once more back on the stage. Misha was much more interesting and better looking, than Gabriella.
Gabriella didn't seem perturbed though, taking the seat with a grin of gratitude, setting down the bright-green cocktail on the table as he glanced back at the stage too, and then Dean. "Big brother come along for moral support?" He asked, taking the student ID card and giving it a glance. Some guys, on their first trip down to the Candy Club brought a friend, although Gabriella had never heard of someone bringing a brother. Especially the sort of brother who didn't seem all that supportive, although maybe he was reading the vibes pouring off Dean the wrong way. He certainly seemed to be enjoying Misha. "If you think Misha is a cutie, Dean, wait till you meet Luci." Gabriella said, taking the smallest sip from his glass, careful not to smudge the gloss on his lips.
"I'm glad you liked it, Sam. It’s just sad how many of us know assholes like that!" Gabriella said, ignoring Dean's snort as the comedian leant back against the chair, hand moving to brush a stray strand of hair out of the way. "I'll ask Misha, but I won't promise anything. She's very shy." And stand-offish, and prudish and desperate to find a 'normal' job- but Gabriella didn't add any of that, instead letting his eyes drift over Sam and his brother again.
“Yeah. They’re almost as bad as the ‘I’m straight really’ guy. The one who always says he’ll make the exception just for you.” Sam laughed. There were a lot of confused guys in his college. There were a lot of confused guys all over the place. Sam wasn’t confused. He was pretty certain he knew what he wanted and college was a great place for experimenting with that. He hoped Dean wasn’t listening too closely. His brother could talk about girls till the sun went down but Sam had never felt comfortable bringing up the guys he’d dated with Dean. It was kind of liberating to talk, even if it was just in general terms, to Gabriella about them. “I mean if Misha’s shy then that’s okay. I’m sure I can get the information I want from someone else.” Sam really didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. He could respect boundaries and if Misha wanted to stay up on the stage and away from the audience then Sam got that.
Gabriella was laughing then, the smile easy and natural, taking another swallow from the cocktail glass, glad that he'd taken the gamble of coming to sit down with a pair of unfamiliar faces. True, one of them wasn't saying much, but Sammy was more than making up for it. Not only was he sort of cute, but he was smart too, and Gabriella wasn't used to meeting intelligent sorts. Maybe he met them more often than he thought but they weren't always being charming and insightful when they were leering. It was a nice change.
"I'll ask Misha," Gabriella offered again, but they had a rule, albeit unwritten. None of them did anything that made them uneasy. They always backed each other up, and if things got out of hand, they had a security firm and the police on speed-dial. They had always been lucky though, nothing had ever really gotten that bad. Gabriella was more than capable of kicking guys out that disrupted them. But these two, Sam and Dean, they seemed okay. And Gabriella was normally fairly good at working out which of their patrons needed a bit of a wide berth. Nick was counted in that group too, although he was a perfectly nice guy (if you ignored the tan lines where the wedding ring had been a few hours before). He was avoided Nick because Luci would have a fit if he thought Gabriella was trying to get in on that action.
"This paper of yours, Sammy, I can call you Sammy, can't I? Well, this paper of yours, what's it all about?"
“Uh, you can call me Sammy but my name is Sam.” Sam said, leaning in a little closer to Gabriella. “It’s about social constructs of gender and the way in which people deconstruct them and play with them. I wanted to ask some personal questions but you can tell me no to anything. I don’t mind and we can use your stage name if you’d rather.” He dug in his bag again, pulling out his notepad and flipped it open, writing ‘Gabriella’ at the top. “Uh, so, do you want to tell me your other name, your, er, real name?”
“And Dean? He’s here because I thought a guy alone asking questions would come off as creepy.” Sam said, glancing at Dean again and he didn’t want Gabriella getting the wrong impression. Sam was just here because he had his paper to write. He wouldn’t have come to the Candy Club normally and while he’d had fun he probably wouldn’t come back. It wasn’t his sort of scene.
The idea of personal questions didn’t both him too much, because as a comedian there were very few taboo topics, and Gabriella doubted Sammy could throw anything out there that was too shocking. And he'd never been interviewed like this before, it was sort of exciting. But he dropped the high, false voice and answered in his own. "My real name? I'm Bond. James Bond. No, of course I'm not. I'm far sexier. But if I tell you my real name, you'll realise how completely unimaginative I am." He warned, with another grin, before easily giving the information up. "Gabriel. I know, I know. But it was meant to be a stop-gap, and then... things took off and it was too late to change it to something else."
Sam laughed, scribbling down the reply. “Gabriel. I should have guessed but I suppose I wasn’t expecting that lack of subtlety, no. Okay, next question, you’re going to think I’m really invasive and I’m sorry, how would you define your sexuality?” Sam had read up a lot on men and the impulse to wear women’s clothing. Most of the guys had said were straight but from Sam did wonder about that. The Candy Club seemed an unofficial gay hang out and there was a lot of overlap between drag queens and the gay community. He wondered if being gay or at least not heterosexual made you more likely to play with gender roles since you’d already circumvented them to some extent by being interested in your own sex rather than the opposite one.
“And, uh, is cross-dressing something that you do simply for work or is it part of your life outside of the club?” He asked, wondering if Gabriel had been drawn to this type of work because it embraced something inside of him that otherwise he hadn’t had avenues to explore or if this was a job to him and nothing more.
Gabriel clearly didn't think the question was invasive, laughing and reaching out to pat Sam's hand. "I've been asked much worse than that, Sammy. Trust me, I've been playing this game awhile, not much shocks me anymore." And he drained the cocktail glass then, pushing it out of their way. "I guess you'd say I'm bisexual. I like my girls just as much as I like my guys. But my last relationship was with a girl." Ah, Kali. Now she had been an eye-opener. "But that was over a long while ago." He added, waving a hand to dismiss those thoughts. He and Kali had hardly lived up to any gender norms.
"The dressing up? It's a bit of fun, really, isn't it? I mean it's a bit of an opportunity to wear something a little... well, a lot more outrageous than what you might wear to an office, let's say. And it gets some laughs. Once you're used to it, it's no different from wearing anything else and besides these" he indicated his long, clearly-false nails by making claws in the air, "are great for getting into tricky candy wrappers. But I don't wear this sort of thing at home. Or stockings or the rest of it," He added, with a grin, "I don't think most women do, either. That or they can't because their husbands are wearing them."
“Right.” Sam muttered, tongue peeking out between his lips as he scribbled down the answers. He was a little surprised to find out that Gabriel’s most recent partner had been a girl but that was, he supposed, just prejudice on his part. Even so she must have been open minded not to worry about her boyfriend working here or maybe that was why they’d broken up. Sam wasn’t going to pry. He didn’t need to know that for his project. Wanting to know about Gabriel’s personal life was just curiosity. “Um, do you mind if I call you Gabriel or do you want me to call you Gabriella?” Sam asked. It was best if he just went with what he was told.
"Gabriel's fine. Or Gabe. I'm okay with Hey handsome too, you know, if you feel the urge." He grinned, watching Sam scribble on the paper. His answers surely hadn't been all that interesting, had they? There hadn't been any punch lines, no witty commentary, nothing like that at all. But maybe Sam was happy with it anyway. Maybe Sam would come back tomorrow night, minus the brother, and maybe they could have a drink or two. Gabriel wouldn’t mind that at all.
Sam laughed again, scribbling furiously. He wanted to talk to Gabriel more but those were his questions. He’d just wanted to add some colour to his paper with personal anecdotes from people in the business and he now he wasn’t sure how to pad any further. The set on the stage was finishing, people were clapping and Sam shot Gabriel an apologetic look. “That’s all my questions. Could you ask Misha is she’d talk to us, please?”
Clapping indicated that Misha’s set was over and as he’d promised to ask on Sam’s behalf. Gabriel got to his feet, trying to be gracious, trying not to act like he’d really rather stay, even if he had no good reason. He offered the pair a bright smile, bowing his head. Dean was too busy clapping for Misha to notice, and he probably didn’t care. “I’ll have the bar send you over a couple more beers, on the house.” He said, as he began to move away, “It was nice to meet you, Sammy. And Dean.”
“That’s really nice of you and it’s Sam!” Sam called after the retreating figure. He nudged his brother, grinning at him. “See, I told you no one here would bite.” And maybe they’d get to talk to Misha next and Dean would lighten up a little bit. If he didn’t then there was still the prospect of free beer which was more than enough to make Dean happy normally.
Gabriel moved to the bar, getting one of the high-heel wearing bar staff to send over another pair of bottles, before heading back stage. Misha, or rather, Castiel, was already there, and Gabriel wanted to catch him before he started removing the make-up or that beautiful white dress. “One last request, kiddo.” Gabriel said, smiling gently at him. “There’s a student sat at the back, drinking beer with his brother. His name’s Sammy. He wants to ask you some questions. Harmless guys doing a paper. They asked me if you’d speak to them.”
And it was probably best not to mention at that point how hard Dean had been clapping after Misha’s set.
Castiel really just wanted to get off the stage now. His shoes hurt. He knew he should probably have tried wearing them in more before getting up to do a set in them but he don’t want to go walking round his apartment in heels. He was hardly even aware of the applause as he made his way backstage. Gabriel appeared at his elbow and Castiel nearly jumped out of his skin. “Gabriel.” He moaned. He knew that Gabriel and Lucifer thought mingling with the patrons was a good idea. They said it create a fun atmosphere. Castiel thought it just gave creeps more of a chance to try and touch him up.
“Fine.” He muttered. “But then I’m going home. And don’t be too far away, okay?” He didn’t want to cause any scenes and if Gabriel had already talked to these guys and thought they were legitimate then he couldn’t really ignore his brother’s request. The table was at the back of the club though and that meant skirting round the sides because there was no way Castiel was walking passed all those tables. Luci might not mind getting pinched but Castiel minded a lot.
“Hi.” He said, reaching the table. “Gabriella sent me over. Sammy and Dean, right?” He asked, wanting to make sure he was in the right place before he sat down. “I’m Misha.”
Dean was up on his feet as soon as the creature in white reached their table. He didn't pull the chivalry act, not really, but he knew the ropes. And well, this close, Misha was even more beautiful; those blue eyes and the dark hair that framed her face so artfully. Misha was clearly tired, and Dean could understand that- up there on stage, singing for everyone, well, that was hard, and he wanted to put Misha at ease.
"Please, sit down." He said, gesturing to the chair that Gabriella or whatever his name had been had vacated. Misha was a much more welcome addition to the table. "I'm Dean, this is Sam. He's the one doing all the smart stuff. I'm just riding shot-gun tonight." He said, offering a smile and settling down himself then, back into the chair, his fingers catching a beer bottle because he needed something to fidget with. "I thought you were really great up there, by the way." He added, and then realised he'd completely monopolised the singer so far, and probably seemed really creepy too, so he cleared his throat, suddenly sheepish and took a swig from the bottle, shutting up so Sam could get on with what he was meant to be doing.
Manners were a nice thing. Castiel didn’t see too many people with manners around. He sat down in the seat that Dean had pushed out for him and smiled at the man. He was nervous and a bit over enthusiastic but he hadn’t done anything to cause Castiel to be frightened of him yet. There were candles on all the tables, Luci’s idea to make everything seem more intimate and keep the lighting costs down and Dean looked good in the candle light. It fell across his face, highlighting green eyes and a chiselled jaw and hiding anything unsavoury. “Thank you.”
Sam cleared his throat. He didn’t even feel like he was one of the people at the table anymore. “So I’m sure Gabriella explained that I’m researching a paper.” He said, jumping straight in. He wasn’t so nervous now he’d spoken to Gabriella-Gabriel and tried out his questions. “Misha is your stage name, right? Do you mind telling me your real name?”
Castiel fidgeted nervously, glancing over his shoulder just to check that Gabriel was there. He didn’t like giving out his name. It made it too likely that someone would track him down in his life outside the club but he also hated people calling him Misha. It made him wince every time. “I’d rather you didn’t use it in your paper but my name is Castiel. Cas.” He said softly, reaching to push the hair from his face and tuck it neatly behind his ear.
“Cool.” Sam agreed, making a note of that. “And how would you define your sexuality?” He looked up in time to catch Castiel’s whole face flooding red. “You don’t have to answer any of the questions you’re not comfortable with.” He hurried to reassure him, feeling a little bad for just assuming that everyone would be okay with his questions. Not everyone was an extravert.
“Gay.” Castiel said after a moment, looking down at the table. “And this is just a job. I don’t find dressing up like this sexually gratifying.”
As Sam launched into boring-school-talk Dean rolled his eyes. From what little he'd caught, Sam had at least chatted with the other one. He was just badgering Misha- no, Cas- for answers and that just wasn't fair. Cas was taking time out of his evening and Sam just didn't seem very grateful at all. And Cas must have been nervous because Dean saw him, looking back towards where Gabriella or Gabriel or whatever was stood, the other drag-queen offering Cas a thumbs up in support. Sam was not making this very enjoyable at all.
"Er, Cas?" He said, interrupting as the young man blushed. He was a guy, yeah, Dean got that, and he wasn't gay and he wasn't going to ever be gay but he wasn't a cave man. Cas seemed nice. There were probably a lot of guys that really dug the whole girls-clothes things. Not Dean. No one was going to leave the club thinking Dean Winchester was interested in guys, not even cute ones with cute hair-cuts and the biggest, bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. "I've only ever done karaoke so it's not the same but I was pretty thirsty afterwards... Can I get you a bottle of water or something?" He asked. Not booze. He wasn't going to offer to get booze because Castiel would think Dean was hitting on him. And an unopened bottle couldn't be spiked or anything. Play it safe, seem normal, nice, and put the guy at ease before Sam asked any more embarrassing questions.
“Hmm,” Castiel glanced at Dean again, having been paying more attention to Sam since he was the one with the list of embarrassing questions. Hadn’t Gabriel said these guys were harmless? Clearly he and Gabriel had a very different definition of harmless. “Yes, I wouldn’t mind a drink.” He agreed raising his hand slightly to touch his throat. It was a little sore. He’d picked certain songs because they fitted his range better but after about five of them in a row a drink would have been very welcome. A bottle of water wasn’t going to be tampered with and he knew that Gabriel would watch the man just to make sure.
Sam waited for his brother to leave before pressing forward, abandoning his questions now because there was something about the way that Castiel answered that made him eager to dig a little deeper. “So why do you work here then? You don’t seem all that enthusiastic if you don’t mind me saying.”
Castiel paused for a moment, glancing back over at Dean and at Gabriel, using the time to compose what he was going to say in his head. “I work here because my brothers asked me. I suppose you could say it’s a family business and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. The money is good but it’s not my sort of place, not really.” Gabriel and Lucifer looked after him though, in their own strange way. It was better than drifting through life without a job to put his name to although how he was ever going to get out of here now he didn’t know. What place would employ him with a reference from one of his brothers and a CV that said he’d been a female impersonator? Was that really something employers were looking for?
Dean was back with the water only a few minutes later, well aware that Gabriel had also stepped up to the bar at the same time, under the guise of getting another of those bright green cocktails but actually keeping an eye on Dean. He would have said that was a little over-protective but he made sure he ordered a bottled water loud and clear before he paid for it, met Gabriel's gaze and headed back to the table. He didn't like not being trusted. He knew he wasn't always trustworthy, but when he was being a good guy- and he wasn't a schmuck like some of the guys in here probably were- he didn't want people expecting the worst from him.
He put the bottle carefully down on the table by Cas' elbow, offering him a grin as he sat back down himself, happily taking another swallow of his beer. "Working with family is always tough," He agreed, because the Winchesters knew all about that. He'd worked with his Dad and Bobby since he could stand by himself, messing about in cars and then actually learning how to fix them. He'd enjoyed it, for the most part, but if they had a fight, he couldn't leave it at work and forget about it. It came home with him; it rode back in the car with him. It continued through dinner. He guessed though that working here was a lot tougher than working in an auto shop.
"What would you rather do, than work here?" Dean asked, taking over again but he couldn't help it. "You sing fantastically, would you want to do that somewhere else? I mean, I fix cars with my dad and Bobby, but Sam isn't in to that. Hence the college work. But that's not for me."
"Um," Castiel paused, opening the bottle of water and taking a sip as he thought about where he'd rather be. There wasn't really very much he thought he was good at. He was only good at singing because it had been trained into him. "I guess I'd make a good secretary." He said after moment’s pause. "I've got neat handwriting." He could take notes. "I do the clubs accounts. I'm good with numbers. Maybe something like that." Something quiet and in the backroom and away from the spotlight. That was really what Castiel wanted. Maybe when his brothers were a bit more established and they could hire someone to work for them then he could just stay in the back office like he'd always wanted to. It was always only meant to be a part time thing.
"Yeah." Sam said, chewing on his pen now. He wasn't getting any further with his research like this and Dean just seemed happy to play twenty questions with Castiel rather than let Sam get on with it. "I'm going to go talk to Gabriel." He said, pushing his chair back and leaving them to it. Trust Dean to end up hitting on a guy in a dress. Sam could admit that Castiel was pretty enough but he doubted Dean would like him out of that dress and with the make-up off. When he remembered Castiel was actually a dude then it wouldn't be so good. He glanced back just for a second. Still, Castiel didn't seem the type to do anything to get himself hurt. He seemed to play his cards close to his chest.
Castiel watched Sam leave, a little perplexed. "Oh. I guess I'm all yours then, Dean." He said with a slight smile. He liked Dean more out of the two of them. "So you're not in college?" He said softly. "Because I promised Gabriel I'd come over and talk to a guy doing a paper as a favour. I am rather tired." He didn't want to run out on Dean and he was nice but Castiel's feet were aching. He'd kick his shoes off under the table if he wouldn't then need to try and find them again.
Now that sounded good. Misha, Cas, was all his, they could talk and laugh and maybe Dean could get her a beer and they’d relax, it’d be great. Wherever Sam had disappeared to, well, he was a big boy now, he could handle it himself. Dean could handle everything over here perfectly, thank you. But then... then it all came crashing down around his ears. And the smile he’d been wearing faded.
“Oh, no, that’s okay, I understand, it must take a lot out of you.” He said, knowing he was being brushed off. “Thanks for helping though. I know Sam appreciates it. I do too. It was really nice to meet you and... Well, I guess I won’t try and take up more of your time.” No matter how much he’d like to. And he couldn’t even offer Cas a ride home either because he was Sam’s lift too and that would be creepy and probably mean that they’d never see each other again. And man, that sucked.
Castiel frowned. He hadn't meant to sound as if he was trying to excuse himself. He was just exhausted after his set but maybe he could find a little bit more strength if he dug down deep enough and he'd stay there a bit longer for Dean. He slipped his shoes off anyway and wiggled his toes, so glad to get away from that crushing pain for a second or so. "No. I'm being rude. Ignore me."
“You weren’t rude. I was just enjoying your company.” Dean told him. And that was true. He’d felt more than a little disappointed when it seemed Misha was going to leave. And they’d hardly talked at all. “And I appreciate you staying late. But don’t stay too late on my account, alright?” He said.
"No, it’s fine." Castiel promised him. He took another sip of the water and then bit his lip, wondering if he could share the next thing with Dean but nothing yet had made him wary of the man. "If I want to go home I've only got to go upstairs. I live above the club. Saves on bills and stuff, you know? And I can never be late for work." He grinned at the old joke. Even if the three of them lived upstairs Gabriel always managed to be late to everything. "So, what did you think of the show? Are you going to come back?" He hoped Dean would. He seemed nice, not like a lot of the guys they got in.
Dean couldn’t help smile, elbow on the table and his chin in hand. “I guess that would be really, really useful,” He agreed, “And I mean, you’re not far from the rest of the city and everything either, are you? I’d hate to imagine what the rent would be here. We’ve only got a little place, really little and that breaks my heart every time I sign off half my pay-cheque.” He reached for the bottle again- most of it was gone now but he didn’t want to get up for another, he didn’t want to leave Misha.
“The show? Oh, the show! I really liked your bit. I...” He paused, glancing back towards the bar, to that terrible pink sequined dress. He didn’t get what had been so funny about half the stuff the comic had said but Sam seemed to think it was hilarious. “Er, I think the comedy was a bit of an acquired taste?” He said, not wanting to seem like a complete idiot. Misha probably heard the same material every night and probably understood all the jokes. Even the one about the guy bragging about his cock. Dean just didn’t get what was funny about that one at all. He stopped then, because Misha was saying something really, really, really worth listening to.
Was that? That was! It was totally an I want to see you again line! “Well, Sammy will probably be here a few more times while he’s doing this paper and I’ll be coming with him. So yes, I’ll be coming back. I’d like to see you sing again.”
"I know what you mean. It's all Gabriel's stuff. He loves jokes like that, anything filled with innuendo." Castiel shuddered slightly. Gabriel was good at what he did but that didn't mean Castiel didn't find it distasteful and off-colour. "And you have to be careful what you say around him or he'll start building an act based on it. He used to have a joke in there about my first boyfriend but I made him take it out. It was so embarrassing." And about the fact that Castiel's first boyfriend had been his cousin Balthazar but when you lived in the middle of nowhere there wasn't much choice. Castiel died of shame every time Gabriel told that story even if he'd changed it to make it sound as if it was about himself and not his little brother.
Dean offered Misha a little supportive smile. “Family are bad enough when they talk about your dates at dinner, I guess it’s a thousand times worse when it’s on a stage.” He shook his head, unable to imagine why someone would want to embarrass and upset such a pretty thing. Misha was beautiful, those eyes, that mouth, the gorgeous jaw and those cheeks. Dean couldn’t help but like Misha, the whole package, not just those looks, but the careful way words were chosen. Most people would just talk and talk and never really think about what they were saying, never engaging their brain as they chattered away. But everything Misha said, it had weight, it was important. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been said at all.
"You should sit up front next time." He said brightly. "Honestly, Gabriel won't bite. Luci might but just show him that you haven't got a wedding ring and he'll back off." He glanced down at Dean's hands just to check there was no ring there. His hands were all clear of tell-tell tan lines and Castiel smiled. "It'd be nice to see a friendly face out here."
“Next time? Well, okay. Next time I’ll sit up front, if that’s what you’d like.” Right up front no one could see his face either, could they? And if it made Cas smile like that, he could do it. Anything for that smile and to see those blue eyes light up.
“Mmhmm, we save special seats.” Castiel said. Mostly for the men Luci liked it had to be said but he could reserve a seat for Dean. “Just call and when you’re booking tell them I said you should be up front. Say Cas told you, not Misha. Some guys try to get places using our stage names. Whoever answers will know you’re legitimate because you know my name.”
“Okay, I’ll do that.” He said, and he actually meant it too. He wanted to come back and he wanted to hear Cas sing again, wanted to buy another drink and sit and talk and then maybe both of them could go pick up some dinner or something. They could, well, hang out, have some fun. If there were any good films on, maybe they could catch one. It’d be good. “When? I mean, when would you like me to come back? My evenings are sort of unstructured so... any time is good for me.”
He tilted his head a little to the side, considering what Dean said. “I don’t mind. You can come back whenever you like. We’re busy on Fridays and Saturdays. We’re closed on Sunday.” He thought about it. Most of Luci’s men friends came on the weekdays when they could pretend they were staying late at the office. “Come whenever you like. I’m always here. I never have time off.”
“Well, at least you’re saving on rent. And sooner or later they have to let you take some time off. I don’t know, maybe you should just go have a good vacation? Take off for a couple of weeks?” Dean had done that once, although he’d not had savings. He’d taken the car and driven up to the mountains and ‘borrowed’ an empty cabin for a week and he’d had a great time. Although when he’d come back he didn’t feel like he’d really had a break at all.
A vacation? It sounded good but he should just save up for somewhere of his own. Somewhere that didn’t have Lucifer bringing men home at all hours and Gabriel’s stockings drying on the radiator. In fact somewhere were there weren’t men wearing women’s clothing. “I could take a holiday.” He mused, “But I’d need someone to cover for me. Can you sing, Dean?” He glanced up at the man and then smiled. “I am teasing.”
“Can I sing?” Dean repeated, and then as it became clear Misha was joking, Dean relaxed, laughing too. “Only Johnny Cash. Nothing else, sorry.” He explained, grinning and feeling that easiness rush back around them. He felt good, the beer warm in his stomach, Misha beautiful and gentle and fun opposite him, the noises of the club around them just lulling him. This was good, this could last forever.
“So... I’ll call and book a seat up front for Thursday then. I’d like to talk to you more and if it’s busy and noisy, I guess we won’t get much chance.” Dean said after a second of thought. And Thursday was a good night for films and restaurants normally- not too busy either, but there was always a good buzz and besides, he would get paid on Wednesday. He could impress Misha a bit, dress a bit smarter.
“I’d like to talk with you too, Dean.” Castiel said quietly. Maybe they could come and sit out here like this again only if they were up front then in all likelihood they’d hardly be able to hear each other talk. He fished his shoes out from under the table, considering for a moment just carrying them but he didn’t fancy walking back across the floor in only his stockinged feet. He placed the shoes down carefully and tried not to wince as he forced his feet back into them. It was only a short distance to hobble to the backstage now. He stood up, swaying unsteadily for a moment and reached for Dean’s shoulder to steady himself.
"Whoa!" Dean said, watching Misha stumble slightly and catching the thin creature by the hip, moving his hand to Misha’s elbow as soon as he was certain that falling wasn't a possibility, sliding out of his chair. "You are tired, aren't you?" He said gently, and then glanced over to the bar where Sam was being fawned over by the comic in the horrible pink dress. He didn't want to shout, but someone was going to have to make sure Misha was okay. Dean didn't really want to say goodnight now, but if he had to, he could man up and do it. He just didn't want to say goodnight and worry that Misha would fall on the way upstairs.
"Shall I get Gabriella or...?" He began, wondering if Sam and his friend would even hear if Dean shouted, or if he did shout, if everyone in the club would hear. He didn't want to embarrass Misha and he didn't want people looking at him either for that matter. Someone was bound to get the wrong end of the stick.
“No, it’s the shoes.” Castiel said, frowning down at them. They were just a bit too small and pinching his feet. They had probably fallen off the back of a truck somewhere since Gabriel had got them for him. He knew they were knock-offs and shoddy and they’d probably fall apart in three weeks but at the moment they were giving him blisters and he wanted them off. They were also stupidly high and once he was standing up in them he was practically towering over Dean which he didn’t really like. He guessed if he’d kicked them off again and stood face to face with the man he would have been just a little shorter than Dean. He would have tucked in just nicely against Dean’s shoulder. He skirted back away from Dean and back away from that thought.
“No, it’s fine.” He said quickly, brushing his hands down the front of his dress, trying to brush off the feeling of Dean’s hand on his hip. “I just need to go and get all of this off!” He gestured to himself, to the make-up and the dress and everything else that just made this completely uncomfortable for him.
Dean stepped back slightly, Misha clearly uneasy with the touch, even though Dean hadn't meant it. He'd just wanted to stop an accident. "Sorry." He breathed, and then offered the singer a small smile, "I didn't think they looked that comfortable. You should get them to splash out and get you a better pair. You deserve that much."
And then his shifted, realising this was good night. Misha was tired, wanting desperately leave, politely yes, but leave all the same. "Well, I'll let you go home, I guess?" Dean said, trying to smile and be polite too, even if he didn't want to say goodbye. But it was only fair. He'd taken a lot of the singer's time up that night and who couldn't blame Misha for wanting to go.
"I hope you have a really nice evening. I really enjoyed meeting you. And I'll be over, Thursday. But I think I have to peel my brother away from the bar."
“Well,” Castiel said, peering passed Dean to the two at the bar. “If your brother orders a few more drinks I think maybe we can afford to start spending a bit more on the wardrobe department.” He smiled at Dean then, just to show him he was joking again. If people did order more of the cocktails then they’d start to do more than break even. Once they had the money to splash out then Castiel was getting heels with a comfortable padded sole. No, he reminded himself, once they were breaking even he was going back to being the accountant and Misha was going back into the box and not coming out again.
“I’m sorry I’m so tired, Dean.” He said softly, “But do come back Thursday. I’ll try and be a bit more awake.” He’d have a lay in whatever Gabriel or Lucifer had to say on the subject because it wasn’t as if either of them was up at the crack of dawn. He’d mainline coffee even though Lucifer complained that it made Castiel’s voice all croaky. He’d take a painkiller before he put his shoes on so he couldn’t feel them as much. He’d do something so he didn’t seem so rude when Dean came back. “I’ll see you then.” He said, waving and turning then to totter away from Dean, holding his hands out a little to balance himself. How women walked in these things he didn’t know but then again most of them probably weren’t trying to find the highest pair of heels they could and jam their oversized feet into them.
He got backstage and collapsed, kicking off the shoes and reaching down to rub at his feet. It was certainly a night for a bath even if Lucifer did shout at him for using all the hot water.
( Part B >> )