2009 AU/Fusion Challenge Fic
Title: Peanut Butter-Pumpkin Wedding Cake
Author: sparseparsley
Rating: NC-17 overall, PG-13 right now
Genre/Pairing: Total AU, Romantic Comedy, Dean/Cas
Wordcount: 4k for this part, should be between 15k and 20k total
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Sex, movie clichés
Feedback: I wants it, my precious.
Summary: The good ones are sometimes assholes and always taken.
EDIT: Hello! This fic is now complete and can be found here in its entirety.
Thanks: Thanks to evalens for being my first beta reader ever and being both supportive, helpful, and fun to talk to. And thanks to BELLAJAYD for sharing her car knowledge with me, for I have none of my own.
Author's Note: Written for the deancastiel AU/Fusion Fic Challenge. The prompt from lizzie451was 'Dean is a waiter in a strip club to put his kid brother through school. Castiel is dragged to the club as a part of his sister Anna's bachelorette party. Dean and Cas hit it off, but Dean thinks Cas is the one marrying Anna.'
I am so not going to be done by the due date, and I apologize for that. The full story is planned and about 2/3rds written but I thought I should post the first scene now, to show my dedication (ooo, ahhh). Note to myself: You are a slow writer and should stick to shorter stories when you have any kind of time constraint.
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“Dean! Hey!”
He's maybe ten feet from his car when Tessa yells for him, with the fast click of her heels catching up behind. God dammit, it's been such a long fucking day already.
“Dean, wait up!”
“Yeah.” He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. Shit.“Yeah, I hear you.” She's right there when he finally turns around, looking sorry enough but not, you know, going away or anything.
“I know, I know, I'm sorry. I just really need your help! Can you cover the rest of my shift?” It's a little chilly out tonight, yeah, but she could've tossed her coat on instead of standing there shivering and looking pathetic. She totally did it on purpose.
“Seriously? Jesus, Tess, you know how early I had to get up this morning?”
“I know, but no one else can stay! Look, it's... my stupid brother got arrested; not for anything big, but Mom's freaking out. I have to go get her.” And now he can see that it's not just the chilly air getting to her, Tessa is twitchy with nervousness. Damn.
He's already walking back towards the club when he answers her. “Yeah, alright. I've got you covered.” At least it's only a few more hours until closing, and fuck if he's sticking around for any clean-up afterwards.
“You're the best!” Tessa's flying hug makes him stumble a few steps, grabbing her waist to keep them both up and maybe holding a little tighter than is strictly necessary. Yeah, he's a saint alright. “I owe you big time.” she says. “Oh! Hey, you might even thank me; I've got a group that called ahead. It's a bachelorette party, your favorite!”
Just because he's good at something doesn't make it his favorite. He is good at them, though; those single girls always go a little wild when their friends are getting married. Wild and loose with the tips. “Oh yeah?”
“Uh huh, her name's Anna Milton and one of the bridesmaids set it up. Meg something. Oh! And it's a combo bachelor 'slash' bachelorette deal.” Wow, people still do the air quote thing? Huh. “She said that the guy is kind of a loner... well, friendless pathetic geek is what she really said but that sounded kinda mean. Actually, she sounded like she really wanted to embarrass the guy, Charles or something, asking about lap dances and stuff.”
Well, that's a little different. They get plenty of mixed parties at the club, the co-ed strippers thing is still unique enough to draw people in, but this is the first he's ever heard of an engaged couple coming together. 'Charles' must be one open minded geek.
They go in the side door, so it's not too bad when they get back in the club, noise-wise, but Tessa still has to raise her voice to be heard. “You should keep an eye on him! You don't want some stupid fight to cut into your tips or anything.” Dean just nods and tosses her coat out while he hangs his own up. Sounds like a fun night, looking after the interpersonal relationships of drunk people.
“Thanks again!” And there's hug number two; he could get used to that. “I owe you huge!”
“Sure, you should take me to dinner, I swear I'll order cheap.” He gives her a wink and gets an eye roll in return. Not a good sign. Oh shit, wait. “Hey!” She's nearly out the door when he catches her, hand at her elbow. “You need anything, call, alright? I know you've got my number, I put in your phone myself.” He gets a kiss on the cheek along with the thank you for that one before she's gone. Tessa's got a thing for mixed signals.
“Okay then.” The changing room mirror shows him some terminally limp hair, and he runs his fingers through it quickly before heading out front. Bad hair is no waiter's friend. “I'm getting puked on tonight. I can feel it.”
*****
The Heads or Tails Exotic Dance Club isn't a bad place to work, really. The people are good, the customers aren't always disgusting, and nobody's fucked with Dean's car yet when he's had to leave it overnight. Smart people.
Ellen is a pretty great boss, too, keeping the good dancers happy and turfing the ones who try to sell a little ass on the side. She tries to keep the place as clean as a strip joint can be. Dance club, dance club, right. Last time he called it a strip joint, she'd smacked him on the back of the head like a little kid. Or not so much like a kid, because that shit had hurt and Dean wasn't so surprised about her being a bouncer at her own bar after that.
She's really good about Dean's situation, too. Working two jobs means sometimes he just doesn't have it in him to play nice with the customers, so she finds him other stuff to do. Like helping the dancers get ready, which is fun, or cleaning the bathrooms, which is disgusting, but thankfully mindless. Some nights she even lets him split a shift and take off early. Kinda like how tonight was supposed to be.
He's behind the bar when the party arrives, fixing up some girly drinks for the college chicks at table five and keeping one eye on Billy up on stage who is currently holding his cowboy hat hands-free. There's maybe eight people in the group, a few looking a little drunk already, and they're all crowding around one girl in the middle. That must be the lucky lady. Or her husband to be is the lucky one because wow, she's pretty fucking gorgeous. She's got that otherworldly waif deal going on, with really pale skin and bright red hair and even as he's walking over, Dean can tell that her eyes are huge and sad. God, he's such a sucker for eyes like that.
“Hey there! Ladies, guys, welcome to Heads or Tails. I'm Dean, I'll be getting you drunk and poor tonight.” The red-head is smiling at him, warm and soft, but one of the other women cuts in front before he can ask if she's Anna. This one's blond, pretty in a punk pixie sort of way.
“I talked to some girl named Tessy on the phone, she's supposed to be our waitress.” Huh, Pixie Cut seems a little brittle tonight.
“You're Meg, right? Tessa had a... thing, so she's gone for the night. Told me all about you, though, no worries. We've got some tables together up near the stage for you guys. I'll be right over.” He motions them towards their seats and takes a second to deliver the college girls' drinks while they get settled.
The party is actually seven total: five girls and two guys mostly chatting happily when he gets back to them. “So! This is a little unique, actually. I've never seen a his and hers bachelor party in here before. Who's the happy couple?” He gets a few eye rolls for that, mostly from Meg and an older black guy who seems to take 'unimpressed' to an art form. So he hasn't got the group quite figured out yet. Some people like the chatty waiter thing, some don't.
“It's just the happy girl tonight, Bubbles. Romeo pussied out.” This is from a dark haired woman at his elbow, all pouty mouth and sarcastic eyebrows.
“Ruby!” The read-head smacks her arm in that 'you're crazy but I love you' way and smiles up at Dean. Oh yeah, those are drowning eyes alright. “Sorry. Um... I'm Anna, the 'happy girl'. My fiancé couldn't make it.”
He shakes the hand she's holding out, surprised at her callused skin. “Ah. Well, nice to meet you Anna. Was he scared of the man ass or what? We get that sometimes.”
“Oh no. I mean I don't think so. He's a writer.” The unimpressed guy snorts at this and Anna gives him a quieting look before she goes on. “He writes science fiction stuff.” She's looking at Dean again and he shrugs. Reading for fun is more Sam's thing, though biographies are good sometimes. “He had some big idea and said he had to work on it right now. It's a writer thing, I guess. He might show up later, though.”
Dean thinks she doesn't look so sure of that, which is too bad. If it were him, this 'idea' would have to be pretty spectacular to make him skip out on his own bachelor party. Not to mention his own potentially drunk and horny girlfriend. “I'll make sure he finds you guys if he does, I promise. What can I get for everybody in the mean time?”
*****
He's back behind the bar getting their second round when the fiancé finally does show up. The night's been slowish and he's been talking with Anna's party when he has a spare minute. He toned down the Friendly Waiter thing and they all seem open enough now.
So far he's learned that Anna is a university student and an artist working with metals, which explains the rough skin. She likes David Bowie. Jessica, the girl-next-door blond, is Anna's high-school friend and Maid of Honor. Sarah, the nice brunette, can chug a beer like a friggin' trucker. Meg and Ruby like to order Screaming Orgasms and dance with each other, which would be hot if it weren't so damn obvious. Uriel the Unimpressed is a dick with a really weird name, and apparently he's some kind of artist too. So is Al, the creepy older dude with a funny accent and nails like fucking knives, and Dean will have to get Ellen to intervene if that bastard grabs his ass again. He's not allowed to intervene for himself anymore since that other guy threatened to sue. Christ, you break one nose and people throw a fit.
He also learns that the wedding is sort of a rush job (as in, within the month, and Dean didn't know that was even possible) since Anna's grandmother is in 'poor health' and they don't want her to miss it. That one was kind of a conversational backfire.
So he's at the bar restocking the limes when he sees the guy come in. He's not bad, looking a little rumpled in a suit and trench coat, but still hot in a librarian sort of way. He's peering through the crowd like he's looking for someone and Dean figures oh hey, maybe he's looking for someone.
“Evenin'!” The guy turns to Dean as he makes his way over, a little startled. Or maybe that's just how he looks, because as Dean gets closer, he sees that 'not bad' may have been an understatement. There's no way this guy is Anna's boyfriend; the world isn't cruel enough to hold two people with eyes that pretty and then have them be with each other. “Are you... Charles? With Anna's group?” Please say no. He's not wearing a ring, but men generally don't before the big day, and Dean is tired but not that tired.
The guy tilts his head. It's a weird movement, kind of deliberate, like he had to think about it. His voice is low enough that Dean has to lean in to hear it. “Castiel. But yes, I'm with Anna. It's from the Bible.” Dean hadn't actually asked, but he guesses that 'Castiel' probably gets a lot of funny looks over his name. No wonder Tessa hadn't remembered it right. Shit, the world is cruel after all.
“Cool. I'm Dean, from the James.” Oh, funny. Christ. “They're over near the front there. What can I bring you?”
Castiel just shrugs and looks to where Dean's thumb is pointing, eyes flicking quickly past the half-naked dancer on stage (Nancy, shaking her fine rear end to Foxy Lady). “A beer will be fine. Please.” He's looking at Dean again, and his eyes are blue. God, so not fair. “Thank you. Whatever you have on tap.”
Maybe he's foreign or something, with the way he seems to be hand-picking his words but still not getting the order quite right. No real accent to speak of, though. Maybe he's high. That's a writer thing, right?
Dean makes it back to the bar before Castiel manages to thread his way to the table, so he's got a great view of the loving reunion. Anna is on her feet and has her arms wrapped around Castiel's chest, squeezing tight enough that the guy looks a little winded from it. His arms are much gentler around her, careful but familiar. Dean shakes off the little ache that gives him; he hasn't been able to hold someone like that in a long time.
When Anna pulls back, Dean can see her mouth form the words 'you made it'. Her grin is painfully bright, but Castiel's answering smile is like a transformation. People talk about a smile reaching the eyes a lot, sure, but this guy's smile is like a face full of joy. It's all mouth and eyes and crinkled skin, cheeks and even a little gum, and Dean's never liked gummy smiles before. There is a kiss, of course, but it lands on Castiel's cheek instead of his lips and Dean figures Anna must be one of those Good Girls he keeps hearing about.
God, they're fucking gorgeous together, and clearly happy despite Castiel's late arrival. Dean wants to be happy for them, these perfect strangers, but it's only natural to be wondering where his angel-eyed other half is, God dammit. As he's walking the next round of drinks over, he concedes that he might possibly be a little jealous.
“Two Sex on the Beaches for the ladies.” The glasses clink down in front of Meg and Ruby, who are doing something with cherries that he's not going to ask about no matter how curious he might be. “A Tequila Paralyzer for Al.” This one is put down on Dean's side of the table and pushed over, keeping his ass a safe distance away. “And a Whatever Beer for the new guy.” Dean tosses out a new coaster and sets the last drink down, and if he's waiting for a little acknowledgment he's not going to get it. Castiel and Anna are deep in conversation, something about a studio, and neither of them look up.
*****
Dean tries to keep his distance after that. The enduring love at table 7 is putting him in a down mood that would make his brother proud and he doesn't want it to cut into his tips. That plan is working pretty well, he's telling himself, when half the group shows up at the bar. Ha.
“Bubbles!” It's Ruby, of course, with Sara and Anna on either side and Castiel standing, looking at a barstool like he isn't quite sure what it's for. Yeah, so he's probably high since he sure can't be that drunk on, what, three beers? Unless he's been stealing sips from his girlfriend. “Bubbles, we need shots!” She's got two arms slung around the other girls and a grin like a proud parent. “Lots of shots.”
Castiel finally sits down beside Anna, looking more relaxed now that he's left his trench and suit coats back at the table. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbow and Dean lets his gaze linger a little on narrow wrists and long fingers. Castiel is watching him when he looks up, a slight frown drawing his eyebrows together. Shit, caught.
“Shots! We can do that.” Dean tries to turn his nervous flinch into false excitement, smiling broadly at the girls. Anna, thankfully, is looking warm and toasted under Ruby's arm and hasn't noticed a thing. “We have the technology!”
Sara giggles, she must be a fan of 70s TV. “We want tequila!” Of course they do.
Dean is setting four shot glasses in a row when Castiel speaks. “Three. I'm fine, thank you.” Yeah, Dean can see where this is gonna go.
Ruby takes her cue perfectly, leaning past Anna to point a finger at Castiel. “Hey! I'm buying, we're celebrating, and Anna already let you out of the lap dance! You owe me and you want shots.” One red fingernail pokes the middle of his forehead, but Castiel just rocks back with the little push and then straight again. Like a weeble-wobble or something. “Cas, man, if you say no again, I will be forced to make you stuff dollar bills down the crack of some girl's ass. With your teeth.”
Wow, that's a little crass with his future wife sitting right there between them. Anna apparently agrees because she's blushing to match her hair and not really looking at anyone.
“Alright. I'll do one shot.”
“There's no such thing as one shot! You'll do four.”
“Two.” Castiel has one hell of a poker face. Or Cas, and Dean's glad the poor guy has a decent nickname. It could've been something unfortunate like... Casty.
“Fine! Two, and one dollar bill in an ass.”
There's hesitation in those eyes now, poker face or not. Smart man, but he must know where to pick his battles. “Agreed.”
“That's our boy, four tequilas!” Ruby slaps Cas on the shoulder before wrapping her arm around Anna again and giving her a squeeze. “Aren't you proud, Annie? Maybe we can get his tie off next!”
There is a distracting moment with that idea and Dean nearly misses the look that passes between Anna and Cas. It's one of those non-verbal things that really close couples do (or him and Sam, but let's not think about that right now or right ever). She says 'you don't have to' with a raise of her eyebrows and he says 'I want to make you happy' with a smile and 'you're happy when your friends are happy' with a small shrug.
Dean fills the shot glasses with a level of concentration usually reserved for important tests. Possibly jealous, a little.
Shockingly, Ruby doesn't push for body shots. She just salts up her own wrist, tosses the shot back, and sucks on her lime slice with an air of satisfaction. The other three follow, although Dean misses the two girls in favor of watching Castiel's pink tongue slide thick over his own wrist.
People usually try to be sexy with it, that's sort of the point, but his lick is fast and precise. Efficient. It's strangely hotter than it should be, and Dean is still staring when he pulls the lime away from his lips, puckered and wet. The feel of his own tongue wetting his lips registers before Dean can stop himself and when he looks up from Castiel's mouth, blue eyes are watching him. More than watching, focusing on Dean like they had on the barstool, like Cas doesn't know quite what to do with Dean but is very close to figuring it out.
Jesus. Dean pulls away and glances at Anna again. She's just finishing and shaking her head from the sour citrus taste, eyes squeezed shut. He looks back at Cas and does the guy have no sense of self preservation? He's still staring. His almost-wife is sitting right next to him and he's indulging in eye sex with the bartender.
Dean gets it, he does. He's seen enough ring-shaped tan lines to know how easy it is for people to stray. He's even been fooled now and then, ended up with a husband-inflicted black eye that one time, so he gets it. But God dammit, he's not a cheater and he's not going to play along when someone else wants to be.
That train of thought is enough to dampen the tight pull of arousal in his belly and Dean can fill up the shot glasses with their next round before turning away. Thankfully, another customer is in dire need of a beer and he doesn't have to watch the next round of wrist licking. Less thankfully, there is no more them when he gets back to them, just Castiel sitting with his hands crossed flat on the bar. He would look prim if not for the slight lean to the left he's developed.
“You lose the ladies or did they lose you?”
Castiel is very still, watching him with that precise head tilt again. “Sarah found some more dollar bills.”
Dean can see them now, Sarah and Ruby waving money at the latest dancer (Ash now, who uses decent music but had to be mugged with a haircut before Ellen let him on stage) with Anna laughing and shining behind them. “Yeah, those don't last long around here. Want another?” Dean gestures with a shot glass.
“No, please.” Emphasis on the 'please', and Dean can't stop his short laugh at that. “I would very much appreciate a glass of water, though.”
“Easy enough.” He does look a little flushed. Dean passes the glass along, icy cold, and not even thinking 'engaged engaged engaged' can keep him from watching the harsh bob of Castiel's throat on each long swallow. The man is panting lightly when he's done, savoring it with his eyes shut, half the glass empty and a few stray drops trailing down his chin. That wide tongue sneaks out to chase them and Dean's going to need a safe topic of conversation right fucking now.
“So... uh... not much time left, huh?” Swing and a miss. “I mean the wedding's pretty soon. You guys all... prepared and stuff?” He barely even knows what he's asking, wedding prep being something he's had to worry about never. As far as he knows, the guy's duty is to show up, dress nice, and not act like a dick at any point.
“Not really, no.” There's a small half-smile added to the head tilt now, and Cas is running his fingers up and down the condensation on the water glass. Dean honestly can't tell if he's flirting or not. “The amount of preparations to be made yet is... daunting.”
Daunting. Who says daunting any more? Other than Sam, who says daunting any more? “I guess I wouldn't know. It's all pretty terrifying from this side.”
The grunt and nod of agreement for that is surprising. For one thing, Cas doesn't seem like a grunter. The 'terrifying' agreement should probably be less shocking, though, considering the smokey looks he's been giving Dean. “We shouldn't be here much longer, really. We'll all be useless tomorrow. It's 'envelope licking day', I believe. And something about... seating arrangements.”
Dean shudders. “Fun. Don't forget to take more water. I was the designated licker for my brother's Valentine's cards once and believe me, tongue hydration is important.” Fuck, stop saying tongue. “Uh... for school, you know. Where everyone was supposed to get cards so no one felt left out?” Fuck, stop saying anything.
“Yes, I remember.” Dean's pretty sure Cas is laughing at him now on the inside. He can see it in his eyebrows. But it's hard to feel insulted when all he wants to do is grin back.
“Look, when you're ready to go, if you guys need a cab or anything, let me know. I can call one of the good companies.” He can see Anna at their table with her head on her arms, possibly sleeping. That was fast. Three of the other girls are dancing with, holy God, Al. “Pretty sure no one over there is in a driving state, and I know you aren't.”
He looks surprised, Dean's got the feeling that he gets a lot easier to read once he's had a few drinks. “That's probably correct. I very much appreciate the offer, if you would.”
Dean is leaning with one arm on the bar and he's pretty sure the tilt of his body is saying 'You should come home with me'. Cas will be gone soon enough, though, and he's tired of trying and failing to control himself. “Course! All part of the job.”
There's a moment where Cas seems to look inward, forehead in a puzzled bunch again. It's quick, but when he comes back he seems distant. “I suppose it is. You're very good at your job.” Why does that feel like an insult? “Please send someone over to let us know when the taxi arrives.”
Then he's gone, and Dean is left with a puzzled frown of his own. Did the guy just realize they'd been flirting, or what? Way to take it out on the innocent bartender, if so.
When they leave the club a half hour later, Dean isn't sure he's sad to see them go. And if Dean has a quick jerk-off in the shower later while thinking about narrow wrists and a strange, hot gaze? Well, there's no point in having a dick if you can't fantasize about people you'll never meet again.
*****