Cheeseburgers and Pie (Chapter 6)
“Dean! Are you sure I won’t need anything more formal?” Castiel called to him.
“Dude! You ask me any more questions and I swear to God I will leave you here.” Dean shouts back around his toothbrush. Castiel has been worrying all morning about what to pack. He can’t take it anymore. “Just pack your normal shit. Jeans, t-shirts, whatever.” To illustrate exactly how much he cares, Dean waves his toothbrush around in the air. Not the best move since he just got his spit and toothpaste all over the mirror, but Castiel seems to finally get the point and shuts up.
Three minutes later, after Dean has completed his daily routine and cleaned off the mirror he leaves the bathroom to find Castiel sitting cross-legged on the floor staring at his clothes like they’re going to come to life any second and he needs to be there to see it. Dean rolls his eyes, picks them all up in one motion and tosses them into Castiel’s open duffel bag. Or rather Dean’s duffel. Castiel apparently owns nothing except the enormous bags he came here with, so they’re sharing.
“Dean! I hadn’t folded those yet!” Castiel whines and tries desperately to snatch them back. But Dean only puts his foot on Castiel’s chest and holds him there.
“Listen, Cas, you need to relax. You’re meeting my family, not the Spanish Inquisition. It’s going to be fine.” Dean gives him a gentle shove backwards and Castiel falls to the floor dramatically. Dean rolls his eyes but smiles as he turns to shove his own clothes in the bag.
“I’ll be living with strangers for a month.” Castiel says to the ceiling.
“I’ll be there.” Castiel lifts up on his elbows and gives Dean a stern look. The look says ‘thank you very much for stating the obvious, Dean. But I already know you and am not worried. I do not know your family so they are the strangers I was referring to.’ Dean’s gotten used to supplying voice over for Castiel’s expressions. “Dude, seriously. Calm down. If I have to say it again you’re riding in the trunk.”
“Maybe the darkness will calm my nerves.” Castiel deadpans. Dean shoots him an annoyed look as he zips up the bag with their clothes in it.
“Alright, let’s get moving. Before you say anything, I didn’t pack any of your girly bathroom shit. You can go a month without your scented soap. We have plenty of stuff to get you clean at my house and we’ll get you a toothbrush there. Now get up off your ass and grab your coat. We’re leaving.” It was Castiel’s turn to shoot him an annoyed look. Dean rolled his eyes again and headed towards the door to pull on his old leather jacket. Castiel finally got up and joined him, grabbing the worn out trench coat that he’d bought a few weeks ago from the Salvation Army down the road. He hadn’t wanted it but Dean refused to let his friend walk around Kansas in winter without a coat. Castiel had grown fond of it by now though, slipping it on everyday before class like a second skin.
They walked to the student lot in silence, but it wasn’t comfortable like it normally was. Dean wasn’t sure what to say to make Castiel relax. He was being ridiculous and Dean had been telling him that all morning. As they reached the Impala, Dean popped her trunk and threw in their duffel while Castiel walked silently up to the passenger side door. He didn’t get in right away and by the time Dean had slammed the trunk and gotten to his own door, Castiel still hadn’t even opened his.
“Cas...” Dean leaned against the side panel and tried to give Castiel his best ‘get in the fucking car’ look. Castiel looked up and rested his chin against the roof. His eyes were clouded with such a mix of emotion; there was anxiety for sure, but also sadness, and something that looked a little like hope, but brimming right on the edges or all of that was gratitude. Dean reached over a ruffled his friends hair, causing it to stick out at all angles a little more dramatically than usual. Castiel gave him a soft smile and the boys entered the car in synch. As Dean settled into the driver’s seat and reached for his tape collection, Castiel’s hand covered his own.
“Thank you, Dean.” It was simple enough but Dean heard what Castiel said loud and clear. He nodded and Castiel gave his hand a final squeeze before letting go and allowing Dean to pick out a tape and pop it into the cassette player. It was the same tape he’d played for Lisa on their date and Dean winced at the thought. He reached to press the eject button but Castiel swatted his hand away. “I like this album, Dean.” Dean couldn’t help but laugh at that, he never pegged Castiel for a rock and roll kind of guy. But then again, there was a lot about Castiel that was surprising. Like the fact that he was so incredibly smart, but by his appearance you would judge him for a brain-dead stoner. His professors always seemed surprised to have Castiel at the top of their class. Dean couldn’t really blame them, Castiel’s appearance didn’t exactly scream ‘hard working student.’ He always had a little more than a five o’clock shadow going on, his jeans were worn to the point of almost pathetic, his t-shirts were always old and hung off his frame in a way that could either be purposefully cool or oblivious to fashion, Dean guessed it was the later. That didn’t seem to matter much to Castiel anyway. Dean always heard the term free spirit thrown around when talking about ‘individuals,’ but in Dean’s humble opinion Castiel was one of the only true ‘free spirits’ he’d ever encountered in his life. Castiel never did anything because of anyone else but Castiel. He didn’t care for outside opinions and as far as Dean knew, Castiel didn’t even bother speaking to most people if he didn’t absolutely have to. The girls in a few of Dean’s classes called him mysterious and drooled over Castiel every chance they got, they even made up stories about his past life. One of the more entertaining ones claimed that Castiel was some kind of deep, brooding, dangerous, undercover cop, sent to the university to hunt down criminals. Not that the university had a crime problem, at all, but hey, girls will be girls. It made Dean laugh, especially since one night he had told Castiel about his reputation among the female student body and Castiel just scoffed. Claiming that he was only mysterious to them because they admired from afar, if they took the chance to speak with him they would soon see that he fell short of all of their expectations. Dean personally couldn’t believe Castiel didn’t capitalize on these opportunities, but then again, that was just one more surprising element to his best friend.
Dean was shaken out of his thoughts by a low humming noise. He knew it wasn’t coming from him, and Metallica certainly didn’t sound like that, so he glanced over at Castiel for confirmation. Sure enough, Castiel had hunched down in his seat and was currently resting his head against the window, quietly singing along to “Enter Sandman” and tapping out the beat on the upholstery. Dean let out a soft chuckle and Castiel stiffened as his eyes darted to Dean. Dean gave him a knowing smile and Castiel’s neck started to flush. But then Dean reached for the volume and cranked it up, joining in loudly. Castiel sat up in his seat and smiled at Dean before starting to sing again. They spent the rest of the ride belting out song after song, switching tapes whenever they felt like it. As the last few notes of “Wanted Dead or Alive” rang out through Baby’s speakers, Dean was pulling into the driveway of his childhood home. He cut the engine and started to get out when he realized Castiel was frozen again. Dean sighed softly and reached over, giving him a small squeeze on the shoulder. Castiel looked at him and nodded, his frame relaxing at Dean’s touch. Dean gathered up their duffel from the trunk as Castiel stood by the hood, examining the house.
“It’s a very lovely home, Dean.” Castiel stated as he grazed his eyes over every inch of the facade.
“It’s not too much, we used to live in this huge house, but uh, after my mom, we just... we had to move to something a little smaller you know?” Castiel nodded and followed Dean up the wooden porch steps that creaked if you didn’t step on them just so. Dean looked back at Castiel once before hitting the doorbell, to find him inspecting everything on the porch. Castiel glanced from the left side, the one where the wooden swing and his dad’s herb garden was sitting, to the right, the side containing a couple wicker chairs and a table, surrounded by hanging baskets. It was a quaint sort of picture, very Better Home and Garden but Castiel didn’t seem to notice. He took in every detail like it was brand new information, like he was trying to imagine it in the summertime when the flowers were in full bloom and the sun lit up all the whitewashed wood just so.
“It’s wonderful.” Castiel nearly whispered, in awe of the homely space.
“You should see the rest of it,” a deep voice answered, Dean smiled wide and turned to embrace his dad who had propped himself up against the door frame. Clapping his son tightly on the back, John chuckled, “Good to see you, son.”
“I just left, Dad, don’t tell me you missed me that much already.” Dean teased and he gave one final squeeze and then pulled away.
“Nah, just putting on a show for your friend here,” John nudged back, but his smile was just as wide as Dean’s.
“Dad, this is Castiel Novak,” Dean gestured between the two men, “Castiel, this is my dad.”
“Mr. Winchester.” Castiel offered his hand. “A pleasure.”
John smacked his hand away and Castiel’s expression went from neutral to shocked in a millisecond. Just before Castiel had the chance to take offense, John pulled him tight into his own hug and Castiel had no choice but to stand there and take it. Castiel shot Dean a desperate look but Dean was too busy being amused by his friend’s lack of social grace to be of any use. John squeezed a final time and pulled back, placing his hands on Castiel’s shoulders. “It’s good to meet you too, son. Dean here has told me a lot about you.” At this Castiel quirked his eyebrow at Dean, who only shrugged in response. “But call me John. Now let’s go in and get you settled. We’re calling pizza for dinner, you got any preferences Castiel?”
“I will eat anything, but I prefer meat to other toppings.” Castiel said, which earned him a hearty laugh and clap on the back from John that propelled him across the threshold.
“Sounds good to me!” John grinned as he stepped inside and headed towards the kitchen to grab the take out menu folder from the junk drawer. “One meat lovers and one cheese.”
“Sammy’s trying to put on this show of eating healthy, but there’s a couple things he can’t resist. Cheese pizza is one of them.” Dean clarified as he too stepped in and settled alongside Castiel.
“Whatever, Dean.” Sam snapped as he strut down the stairs, followed closely by Gabriel. “You’re going to die before you hit thirty because your arteries are more clogged than a werewolf’s shower drain.”
“At least I enjoy my food!” Dean snapped back and lunged at his little brother. Sam caught him in a headlock and soon they were wrestling at the foot of the stairs. Gabriel rolled his eyes and stepped around the mess, coming up to meet Castiel. Gabriel got right into Castiel’s face and squinted up at him. Castiel’s nervousness came back immediately.
“Man, Dean sure knows how to pick ‘em.” Gabriel chimed, a cheeky smirk spreading across his face. “Where’d he pick you up? Male model agency?”
“I was assigned to Dean’s room by the board office.” Castiel deadpanned. “And I only modeled once for Dean’s sculpting class.”
“Oh, trust me sweetheart, I know all about that,” Gabriel winked. “You sure know how to ruffle Dean-o’s feathers don’t ya?” Castiel’s face contorted in confusion and Gabriel’s smile only grew wider.
“Hey, Gabe, leave him alone.” Dean called from his position on the floor. He had Sam’s head in one hand and the other pulling Sam’s leg so that the taller man was contorted into what resembled a twist pretzel. Sam took the opportunity to lick Dean’s hand which made Dean recoil in disgust and at that the match was over. Dean wiped his hand on his pants and strolled over to Castiel. “Sorry, man, the big idiot on the ground is my baby brother Sammy.” Sam gives Dean another frustrated look, then turns to give a small wave and his most charming smile to Castiel. “The tiny annoying one is Sam’s boyfriend, Gabriel. Gabriel, Sam, my roommate Castiel.”
“Pleasure.” Gabriel took a step back but his smile got even more devious, as he gave Castiel a quick pat on the cheek. With a final wink he turned back to go help Sam untangle himself from the floor. Dean gave Gabriel's retreating form a final glare and turned to smile at Castiel.
"Come on man, let's get you settled." Dean picked up the forgotten duffel in one hand and grabbed the sleeve of Castiel's trench with the other as he headed up the stairs. He took two at a time, practically dragging Castiel up with him. "Here, let me give you the tour." Dean stopped them at the top of the stairs, gesturing to the room at the right. "That's Sammy's room. Don't go in there unless specifically invited. Sam and Gabriel like to leave the door unlocked for some reason. I think it's Gabe's idea." Dean moves them down the hall to a door directly across the hall from Sam's room "That's the bathroom, I'll show you everything in there later when you want to take a shower or something." Walking them further down the corridor he gestures towards the closed door at the end of the hall. "That's my dad's room, I wouldn't go in there either, my dad likes his privacy. And this is my room" Dean's hand is on the doorknob of the room just past the bathroom. "It's not fancy but it's got enough room for the both of us."
"Both of us?" Castiel looks at Dean apprehensively.
"Yeah I mean, you could sleep on the couch but to be honest, the blow up mattress is more comfortable." Dean shrugged as he opened the door and stepped inside. "Your choice."
Castiel hesitated for a moment before following Dean into the room. He stood just inside the door and took everything in like he had when they stepped onto the porch. Castiel's eyes jumped from the classic rock posters scattered over the walls to the small bookshelf, back towards the queen sized bed stuck in the middle of the room that sat on top of a dark oak frame, around the walls, grazing over top of the two dark stained walnut dressers and finally landing on Dean. Dean gave a small smile and then shrugged nonchalantly as he busied himself around the room. Rearranging things to give Castiel a space to sleep. Castiel walked quietly to the closest dresser to the door and placed his hand on it gently, tracing the intricate Celtic knot pattern carve around the edges. “This is beautiful, Dean.”
“Thanks. That one was my senior project.” Dean busied himself with straightening the mattress out and pushing the bed frame closer to the wall. Castiel came over to help him and together they easily slid it from the middle of the room to give enough space for Castiel and the air mattress. “This I built with Bobby.” Dean tapped the bed frame.
“Dean, did you build all of this furniture?” Castiel looked around again, awe dawning on his features.
“Well, with help.” Dean shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t like talking about his work, especially the creative kind, he wasn’t even sure why he had told Castiel that he built the furniture. Castiel just had that something about him. It was like truth serum. Times like these he was thankful that Castiel either lacked complete knowledge of how to carry a conversation, or could somehow sense how Dean felt. Instead of going on and on about how gorgeous the furniture was, Castiel just gave him a smile and nodded.
“Not to, uh, interrupt,” Dean whipped his head around and found Sam standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, hip cocked, and the biggest smirk Dean had ever seen, “but, soup’s on.”
Castiel turned to Sam with a perplexed look on his face, “I thought your father mentioned something about pizza?”
Dean rolled his eyes and dragged his friend by the wrist, pushing past Sam on his way out the door, “It’s an expression, Cas.”
“Cas, huh?” Dean turned to find Gabriel peeking out from behind his brother with his eyebrows raised practically to his hairline and a devilish grin. Dean glared and continued to lead Castiel swiftly towards the kitchen.
Dean directed Castiel into the chair on the broad side of the rectangular table in the dining room, then exited to the kitchen to help his father gather up the food and bring it out. When Dean reentered with John right behind him, they both had their arms full of pizza boxes, paper plates, napkins, cups, soda bottles, and Dean had a particularly large bowl of salad balanced on top of his pizza box. Castiel eyed it curiously, catching Dean’s eye. “Sammy always makes us have a vegetable, even though I’ve told him a hundred time, the tomato sauce counts.”
“It doesn’t, Dean. If it’s just as greasy as the meat it doesn’t count as a vegetable.” Sam declared as he entered the dining room, Gabriel hot on his heels. Dean shot Sam an exasperated glance before rolling his eyes again and plopping down in the chair next to Castiel. Sam and Gabriel took the opposite side of the table, Sam across from Dean and Gabriel across from Castiel. John settled himself at the head of the table between his two sons and they all began to distribute the food. Castiel hesitated, not wanting to intrude on the progress the other men were making. Dean looked down from where he was hovering over the meat lover’s box, a slice hanging from his mouth by the crust while his plate was consumed with two more slices and a miniscule portion of salad that was more ranch dressing than vegetables. Letting the pizza from his mouth drop to his plate, Dean took the back of his hand and wiped his mouth before gesturing for Castiel to hand his plate over so Dean could fill it. Together they went back and forth, signalling with eyebrows and head nods, until Castiel had two slices of pizza and a large helping of salad, lightly coated in raspberry balsamic. At Castiel’s dressing choice Sam gave an approving head nod. Gabriel had long since loaded his plate, refusing to eat until he was done admiring Dean and Castiel’s silent communication. “Aw, Dean-o, that was adorable. Do you two have your own secret code? Could you teach me and Sam how to do that?”
Dean dropped Castiel’s plate in its proper spot on the table unceremoniously and slumped back into his chair, grumbling. Castiel canted his head to the side, creasing his brow in confusion. He looked from Dean to Gabriel for clarification, but Dean was too busy staring holes in his dinner and Gabriel too busy whispering things into Sam’s ear to pay him any attention. They spent the rest of the meal in relative calm, John asked Dean question after question about school and how he was keeping up. Dean answered every one, with general honesty. He may have let on that he wasn’t a loner that had only managed to make a handful of friends. Only one real friend, who happened to be sitting next to him, so no way Dean would be admitting that. Especially since Gabriel and Sam had been giving him knowing looks since Castiel had first set foot in the house. After twenty questions came to an end, everyone had finished and John stood to clear the table. Dean and Sam rose in unison, along with Castiel who started gathering up his own mess. Dean put a hand on his shoulder and gave Castiel a small smirk. Castiel furrowed his brow, a look that was becoming quite regular.
“Guests don’t clear their own mess, son.” John said from the kitchen doorway before accepting the dishes from Sam and turning to place them in the sink. “But since you’ll be here for a while, you’re only a guest for the night. You start pulling your own weight tomorrow.” John called back from over his shoulder. Dean gave Castiel a hearty pat on the back before pulling the plates out of his hands and taking the remaining dishes into his dad. Castiel stood, frozen in place, watching Dean leave. When Dean came back to grab the garbage, Castiel was still standing behind his chair, though his hands had dropped to his sides. Dean nudged him with his elbow and raised a brow and he gathered the trash into a half-full black plastic garbage bag. Castiel looked at him dumbfounded, like he’d never been shown this kind of hospitality in his life. Dean shrugged and gave Castiel a sheepish smile before heading to the kitchen and out the back door to put the bag in the metal cans.
“Come on, Castiel. We’re gonna set up poker in the living room.” Sam’s gigantic hand on his shoulder roused Castiel out of his trance. Castiel looked up at Sam and gave a small nod, following the lanky man into the living room, where Gabriel had already settled on the floor at the coffee table, a wooden briefcase propped open in front of him.
“You ever play Texas Hold ‘Em, Cassie?” Gabriel pulls out piles of chips and starts distributing them into five even stacks, handing the cards to Sam to shuffle.
“I’ve read about it. But practice differs from theory.” Castiel says as he sits across the table from Sam.
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine. And if you need any help, you could always ask. We won’t go too harshly on you since it’s your first time.” Sam assures him as he deals out a hand to each of them and two additional ones for the missing Winchesters.
“Speak for yourself, Sammy. I’m not willing to lose shit for helping out a rookie.” Dean protests as he and John enter the living room and take their own seats on the floor, Dean next to Castiel and John opposite Gabriel. After Sam runs through the rules quickly for Castiel the game gets underway.
When Castiel has efficiently cleaned both John and Gabriel out of a hundred dollars each along with dish duty for the rest of the month, it’s down to just Dean. True to his word, Dean hadn’t helped Castiel. In fact, no one had. Castiel fumbled a bit in the beginning, before he realized that lying was the key; after that Castiel’s poker face alone promptly wiped out Gabriel and John had followed closely. Dean had been holding his own, carefully watching Castiel for any twitch, tick, hell even a difference in breathing. He’d found nothing so far and continued to lose, hand after hand. Only when all he had left to offer was his last week of dish duty, did he finally find a break in Castiel's shell that told Dean he was bullshitting. At first, Castiel had been shocked. Then a look came over his eye that was part determination and part malevolence. Gabriel and John both perked up from where they were slumped against the couch, watching the two face off. Dean and Castiel glared at each other over their hands before Castiel set down his hand and went all in. Dean was caught off guard at the tenacity of the move, but had no choice but to go all in as well. His hand was good enough, already three of a kind. As Sam flipped over the final cards, Dean glanced over at Castiel and saw the crack again. Confident in his hand he flipped it over and started to rake in the winnings. Castiel grabbed his wrist quickly though, and with a cunning smirk, turned over his hand. Son of a bitch! Castiel had pulled off a straight flush. Dean went slack jawed and gaped at Castiel as he piled everything in front of him and started to neatly stack it. Sam let out a roaring laugh and Gabriel fell to the floor in giggles. Even John was smirking approvingly. Castiel glanced over at Dean with a glint in his eye. Smug bastard.
Stretching noisily, John unfolds himself from the ground and yawns. “Alright boys, I think that’s enough damage for one night. I’m hitting the hay. Remember to check the doors and windows and shut the lights.” The boy’s both answer affirmative in unison. “And, Castiel? That was quite a show, boy. Not a lot of people can beat Dean here at poker.” Castiel looked up at John’s words and smiled with childish pride. “That’s quite a poker face you got there.”
“I’ll say.” Dean grumbled, John chuckled as he took to the stairs.
“Don’t be such a sore loser, Dean.” Sam teased as he started piling the chips and cards back into the wooden case.
“That’s easy for you to say! You didn’t just gain a month’s worth of dish duty!” Dean whined as he slumped back onto the floor.
“Just admit you were bested and get over yourself.” Sam snapped playfully, tossing a chip and bouncing it off of Dean’s chest.
“Bitch.” Dean snapped back and flung the chip back, narrowly missing Sam’s head.
“Jerk.” Sam stuck his tongue out to emphasize his statement and the both boys broke into laughter as Dean sat up to help Sam finish clearing the table. Castiel tried to help but Dean just swatted his hands away repeating John’s earlier statement about guests not being allowed to help. Castiel rolled his eyes but conceded.
“Okay, now that Cassie’s done cleaning us out, movie marathon? Yes? Good.” Gabriel piped up from the floor.
“God, Gabe. Please. Just, no chick flicks.” Dean moaned as he snapped the closures on the poker case, taking it over to the large bookshelf by the television to store next to the other games. Scooting himself over to the television stand, Gabriel starts to rifle through the drawers, piling DVDs on the floor around him.
“Okay. So... Brat Pack?” Gabriel calls as he holds a DVD above his head and waves it.
“Oh God. Again?” Dean whines, slumping back against the couch. Castiel rises to sit stiffly next to where Dean’s sprawled himself over most of the couch.
“Dean?” Dean hums in response. “What is a Brat Pack?” Everyone turns to Castiel at once, three pairs of eyes wide in disbelief.
“You’ve got to be kidding. Dean, I have to.” Gabriel whines, collecting three more DVD’s from the drawer. “Everyone has to watch the Brat Pack. It’s a requirement of life. A right of passage!”
“Ugh, yeah, whatever fine. Just start with Breakfast Club, okay? I’m making popcorn. Everybody in?” Everyone nods, except Castiel who is still looking hopelessly confused. But Dean ignores that and heads for the kitchen. Castiel turns to the other two, looking for clarification.
“What is a Brat Pack?” Castiel repeats. Gabriel just huffs dramatically and pops the DVD into the player.
“Alright, here. Let me explain.” Sam starts as he settles next to Castiel on the couch, “In the 80’s there were these movies, that everyone saw, I mean everyone. They were teen movies about hanging out and every day problems. So you know, relatable and they got really popular. So anyway, they got the nickname Brat Pack because it always seemed like there was this select group of young actors that were in them. Most of them were even directed by the same guy.” Castiel nods at this. And Sam smiles, clapping him on the shoulder before moving to the large armchair and entangling himself with Gabriel. Dean comes back just as the main title screen is displayed, two large bowls of popcorn balanced in one arm while the other holds the leftover soda from dinner and four glasses. Castiel rises and reaches out hands to help, and just as Dean is about to protest, Castiel gives him a sharp look that makes him snap his mouth shut. Castiel takes one of the large bowls and folds himself around it as he sits back on the couch. Dean glances over and smiles, he looks a lot like Sam used to whenever they had movie nights back when they were still both in grade school. He hands the bowl over to Gabriel and then scurries over to flick the lights off before he can miss the opening credits. Dean doesn’t like to admit it, but Brat Pack movies are some of his favorite. As he settles at the end of the couch and sprawls his feet out to the coffee table he catches Sam’s eye. Sam gives him a knowing look and Dean makes a lewd hand gesture, they both smile and turn back to the TV to enjoy the movie.
Halfway through Sam and Gabriel have decided that they’ve seen it enough and start paying attention to each others mouths instead. Dean rolls his eyes and scoots over close to Castiel. Castiel has perched himself on the edge of the cushion, hugging the popcorn bowl closely, face contorted in extreme concentration. Dean taps him on the shoulder and Castiel sits up slowly, peeling his attention off of the movie. He quirks an eyebrow at Dean and Dean nods his head towards where Gabriel looks like he’s currently trying to taste Sam’s tonsils. Castiel looks over and quickly looks back at Dean, wide-eyed and so flushed that even in the dim light from the TV he’s visibly red. Dean smirked wickedly and grabs a couple pieces of popcorn from the bowl in Castiel’s lap. He pops one in his mouth and places one on his open palm. He lines it up, eyeing his target, before flicking it violently in Sam’s direction. It misses and Castiel snorted softly. Dean puts his finger up to his lips and Castiel nods, watching as Dean tries again. It takes at least ten tries to land one on Sam’s forehead, which happens to bounce off and get sucked into Gabriel's mouth while he takes a breath and then chokes on it, spitting all over Sam’s face. Needless to say Dean falls off the couch laughing. Even Castiel breaks into a smile. Sam and Gabriel don’t find it at all funny, instead turning back to the movie and pouting, barely daring to hold hands. Dean climbs back on the couch next to Castiel and they both turn their attention back to the screen. Throughout the night they slump together naturally, leaning against each other’s shoulders for support. When the final notes of “Don’t You” ring out as John Bender’s fist hangs frozen in the air, Dean snaps up, realizing just how close they’d become. Castiel turns to him and gives him a confused look, opening his mouth slightly like he’s about to say something when Sam coughs lightly.
“So, Castiel?” Sam prods, “Shall we continue?”
Castiel’s gaze leaves Dean to turn his attention to the other Winchester. “Yes. I believe so. I found the closing monologue to be inspirational.” Gabriel squealed in glee and jumps off of Sam’s lap to pop in the next film.
“Do St. Elmo’s Fire next!” Dean barks from the couch.
“No, Dean! You can’t jump from Breakfast Club to St. Elmo’s Fire. We don’t want to traumatize the poor boy!” Gabriel proclaimed, shuffling through the pile of movies, considering each one carefully. “We’re going with Pretty In Pink!”
Dean groans and pushes himself further down on the couch to pout. Castiel looks to Sam again for clarification, clearly not understanding anything that has been said. “Don’t worry,” Sam smiles, “Dean’s just upset because he has a huge crush on Judd Nelson.”
“I do not!” Dean groans, crossing his arms in protest.
“Dude, you so do. You dressed like Bender all through high school, you’ve memorized all of his lines, you used to have a giant ass poster taped to your wall. Admit it!”
“He’s a good actor Sam!” Dean’s argument doesn’t even sound convincing to his ears so he snatches the popcorn out of a confused Castiel’s lap and stuffs his mouth, effectively ending the discussion. Castiel settles next to Dean, folding his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees as he prepares for the next movie to start. Dean calms down a little bit when Castiel takes a moment while the screen blacks out to nudge his shoulder gently and whisper, “I think he’s an excellent actor.” Dean’s not quite sure if he’s patronizing him, but it’s a nice enough gesture that he doesn’t mind too much. After that they slip into silence as Castiel watches Pretty in Pink just as carefully as Breakfast Club. When Molly Ringwald’s character runs to the pretty boy and kisses the hell out of him, Castiel lets out a low groan. “She would have been better off with the Duck.” Dean chuckles in agreement. Without even waiting for the movie to stop Gabriel is up and back in front of the player, readying the next disc.
Dean isn’t sure at what point he officially passed out, but he wakes suddenly with a tickle in his nose and a crick in his neck for sleeping upright for however many hours that was. Though Dean guesses quite a few since he can tell through his eyelids that it’s close to dawn. He snuffs violently and tries to move his head around to get rid of the disturbance. It’s then that a mass presses against on his chest and he snaps his eyes open to look down and find Castiel, tucked into the space between his shoulder and chest, one leg folded across his lap and the other dangling off the edge of the sofa. The popcorn bowl had landed upside down on the floor, somehow, and Sam and Gabriel were piled on top of one another in front of the TV. What the hell happened? Last thing Dean remembered Sam was trying to explain to Castiel the Asian jokes in Sixteen Candles. Dean wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He was certainly in a compromising position, especially if Sam or Gabriel happened to wake up and find him like this. Not to mention what Castiel might think. He wasn’t exactly sure, but Dean didn’t want to take the chance that Castiel might think he was some kind of creep for snuggling with him. He slowly tried to slide his hips out from under Castiel’s leg while simultaneously guiding Castiel down to lay on the couch. Halfway to freedom, Castiel shifted so that his head dropped out of Dean’s reach and the force startled him awake. Flustered and groggy, he looked around himself quickly, like an animal that comes to in a cage from a tranquilizer. He whipped his head around so fast he caught Dean’s temple with his forehead. Dean let out a pained groan and Castiel gasped in shock. “Dean!”
“Shh, Cas, it’s cool. You just got me a little.” Dizzy from the blow, Dean leaned back against the couch to steady himself. Castiel shifted around and took Dean’s head in his hands examining the tender area above Dean’s eye in the early morning light. Dean keeps his eyes closed, still seeing stars, just letting Castiel inspect the damage. Castiel shifts again, over top of Dean now, hovering above his lap. Dean can feel him everywhere and it’s unexpectedly welcome. He snaps his eyes open as Castiel presses a gentle touch to his temple. Castiel recoils his hand, but reached in again, slowly dragging his finger across what Dean expects is the outline of the bruise that will form. Dean hissed in pain and squeezes Castiel’s forearm in warning. Castiel nods and slumps back so that he’s sitting on the very edge of Dean’s knees.
“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel says sheepishly, not looking Dean in the eye. Dean reaches out and lifts Cas’s chin and they lock eyes.
“Hey don’t worry,” Dean assures with a smirk, “Sammy’s hit me harder than that. I’ll live.” Castiel stares at him for a few more moments, expression slowly fading from concerned to serene. They stay like that a few more moments before Dean comes back to himself, realizing just how close they are. He coughs slightly to relieve the sudden tension, “but uh, hey, Cas? Personal space?”
Castiel cocks his head in confusion but realization dawns in his eyes and he quickly stands, embarrassment flushing his face. Dean isn’t sure what to do next so he keeps sitting, hands over the warm spots on his jeans where Castiel was just moments ago. It’s Castiel that breaks the awkward silence first. “You should go put some ice on that.”
Dean nods without looking up and shuffles over to the kitchen to grab ice out of the freezer. He wraps it in a dish towel and comes back to the living room, preparing a speech in his head about how he was glad Castiel had looked at his head and that the whole sitting-on-my-lap thing wasn’t weird. Even in his head he was fumbling over words, trying to string them together into something that could pass as cool and casual. He can’t though, and as he crosses the threshold between the kitchen and living room, he braces himself for the inevitable awkwardness. It never comes though, as he finds Castiel crouched on the ground picking up the spilled popcorn. Castiel looks up at Dean’s reentry and gives him a nod. The situation is officially forgotten and Dean steps over Castiel’s fingers to gather up the empty glasses and soda bottle from the table. They clear the living room together and head upstairs, leaving the still snoring Sam and Gabriel in each other’s arms. Dean shows Castiel where to get towels and which shampoos to use, as promised, and leaves Castiel to it as he promptly passes out on his bed.
Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Epilogue |
“Dude! You ask me any more questions and I swear to God I will leave you here.” Dean shouts back around his toothbrush. Castiel has been worrying all morning about what to pack. He can’t take it anymore. “Just pack your normal shit. Jeans, t-shirts, whatever.” To illustrate exactly how much he cares, Dean waves his toothbrush around in the air. Not the best move since he just got his spit and toothpaste all over the mirror, but Castiel seems to finally get the point and shuts up.
Three minutes later, after Dean has completed his daily routine and cleaned off the mirror he leaves the bathroom to find Castiel sitting cross-legged on the floor staring at his clothes like they’re going to come to life any second and he needs to be there to see it. Dean rolls his eyes, picks them all up in one motion and tosses them into Castiel’s open duffel bag. Or rather Dean’s duffel. Castiel apparently owns nothing except the enormous bags he came here with, so they’re sharing.
“Dean! I hadn’t folded those yet!” Castiel whines and tries desperately to snatch them back. But Dean only puts his foot on Castiel’s chest and holds him there.
“Listen, Cas, you need to relax. You’re meeting my family, not the Spanish Inquisition. It’s going to be fine.” Dean gives him a gentle shove backwards and Castiel falls to the floor dramatically. Dean rolls his eyes but smiles as he turns to shove his own clothes in the bag.
“I’ll be living with strangers for a month.” Castiel says to the ceiling.
“I’ll be there.” Castiel lifts up on his elbows and gives Dean a stern look. The look says ‘thank you very much for stating the obvious, Dean. But I already know you and am not worried. I do not know your family so they are the strangers I was referring to.’ Dean’s gotten used to supplying voice over for Castiel’s expressions. “Dude, seriously. Calm down. If I have to say it again you’re riding in the trunk.”
“Maybe the darkness will calm my nerves.” Castiel deadpans. Dean shoots him an annoyed look as he zips up the bag with their clothes in it.
“Alright, let’s get moving. Before you say anything, I didn’t pack any of your girly bathroom shit. You can go a month without your scented soap. We have plenty of stuff to get you clean at my house and we’ll get you a toothbrush there. Now get up off your ass and grab your coat. We’re leaving.” It was Castiel’s turn to shoot him an annoyed look. Dean rolled his eyes again and headed towards the door to pull on his old leather jacket. Castiel finally got up and joined him, grabbing the worn out trench coat that he’d bought a few weeks ago from the Salvation Army down the road. He hadn’t wanted it but Dean refused to let his friend walk around Kansas in winter without a coat. Castiel had grown fond of it by now though, slipping it on everyday before class like a second skin.
They walked to the student lot in silence, but it wasn’t comfortable like it normally was. Dean wasn’t sure what to say to make Castiel relax. He was being ridiculous and Dean had been telling him that all morning. As they reached the Impala, Dean popped her trunk and threw in their duffel while Castiel walked silently up to the passenger side door. He didn’t get in right away and by the time Dean had slammed the trunk and gotten to his own door, Castiel still hadn’t even opened his.
“Cas...” Dean leaned against the side panel and tried to give Castiel his best ‘get in the fucking car’ look. Castiel looked up and rested his chin against the roof. His eyes were clouded with such a mix of emotion; there was anxiety for sure, but also sadness, and something that looked a little like hope, but brimming right on the edges or all of that was gratitude. Dean reached over a ruffled his friends hair, causing it to stick out at all angles a little more dramatically than usual. Castiel gave him a soft smile and the boys entered the car in synch. As Dean settled into the driver’s seat and reached for his tape collection, Castiel’s hand covered his own.
“Thank you, Dean.” It was simple enough but Dean heard what Castiel said loud and clear. He nodded and Castiel gave his hand a final squeeze before letting go and allowing Dean to pick out a tape and pop it into the cassette player. It was the same tape he’d played for Lisa on their date and Dean winced at the thought. He reached to press the eject button but Castiel swatted his hand away. “I like this album, Dean.” Dean couldn’t help but laugh at that, he never pegged Castiel for a rock and roll kind of guy. But then again, there was a lot about Castiel that was surprising. Like the fact that he was so incredibly smart, but by his appearance you would judge him for a brain-dead stoner. His professors always seemed surprised to have Castiel at the top of their class. Dean couldn’t really blame them, Castiel’s appearance didn’t exactly scream ‘hard working student.’ He always had a little more than a five o’clock shadow going on, his jeans were worn to the point of almost pathetic, his t-shirts were always old and hung off his frame in a way that could either be purposefully cool or oblivious to fashion, Dean guessed it was the later. That didn’t seem to matter much to Castiel anyway. Dean always heard the term free spirit thrown around when talking about ‘individuals,’ but in Dean’s humble opinion Castiel was one of the only true ‘free spirits’ he’d ever encountered in his life. Castiel never did anything because of anyone else but Castiel. He didn’t care for outside opinions and as far as Dean knew, Castiel didn’t even bother speaking to most people if he didn’t absolutely have to. The girls in a few of Dean’s classes called him mysterious and drooled over Castiel every chance they got, they even made up stories about his past life. One of the more entertaining ones claimed that Castiel was some kind of deep, brooding, dangerous, undercover cop, sent to the university to hunt down criminals. Not that the university had a crime problem, at all, but hey, girls will be girls. It made Dean laugh, especially since one night he had told Castiel about his reputation among the female student body and Castiel just scoffed. Claiming that he was only mysterious to them because they admired from afar, if they took the chance to speak with him they would soon see that he fell short of all of their expectations. Dean personally couldn’t believe Castiel didn’t capitalize on these opportunities, but then again, that was just one more surprising element to his best friend.
Dean was shaken out of his thoughts by a low humming noise. He knew it wasn’t coming from him, and Metallica certainly didn’t sound like that, so he glanced over at Castiel for confirmation. Sure enough, Castiel had hunched down in his seat and was currently resting his head against the window, quietly singing along to “Enter Sandman” and tapping out the beat on the upholstery. Dean let out a soft chuckle and Castiel stiffened as his eyes darted to Dean. Dean gave him a knowing smile and Castiel’s neck started to flush. But then Dean reached for the volume and cranked it up, joining in loudly. Castiel sat up in his seat and smiled at Dean before starting to sing again. They spent the rest of the ride belting out song after song, switching tapes whenever they felt like it. As the last few notes of “Wanted Dead or Alive” rang out through Baby’s speakers, Dean was pulling into the driveway of his childhood home. He cut the engine and started to get out when he realized Castiel was frozen again. Dean sighed softly and reached over, giving him a small squeeze on the shoulder. Castiel looked at him and nodded, his frame relaxing at Dean’s touch. Dean gathered up their duffel from the trunk as Castiel stood by the hood, examining the house.
“It’s a very lovely home, Dean.” Castiel stated as he grazed his eyes over every inch of the facade.
“It’s not too much, we used to live in this huge house, but uh, after my mom, we just... we had to move to something a little smaller you know?” Castiel nodded and followed Dean up the wooden porch steps that creaked if you didn’t step on them just so. Dean looked back at Castiel once before hitting the doorbell, to find him inspecting everything on the porch. Castiel glanced from the left side, the one where the wooden swing and his dad’s herb garden was sitting, to the right, the side containing a couple wicker chairs and a table, surrounded by hanging baskets. It was a quaint sort of picture, very Better Home and Garden but Castiel didn’t seem to notice. He took in every detail like it was brand new information, like he was trying to imagine it in the summertime when the flowers were in full bloom and the sun lit up all the whitewashed wood just so.
“It’s wonderful.” Castiel nearly whispered, in awe of the homely space.
“You should see the rest of it,” a deep voice answered, Dean smiled wide and turned to embrace his dad who had propped himself up against the door frame. Clapping his son tightly on the back, John chuckled, “Good to see you, son.”
“I just left, Dad, don’t tell me you missed me that much already.” Dean teased and he gave one final squeeze and then pulled away.
“Nah, just putting on a show for your friend here,” John nudged back, but his smile was just as wide as Dean’s.
“Dad, this is Castiel Novak,” Dean gestured between the two men, “Castiel, this is my dad.”
“Mr. Winchester.” Castiel offered his hand. “A pleasure.”
John smacked his hand away and Castiel’s expression went from neutral to shocked in a millisecond. Just before Castiel had the chance to take offense, John pulled him tight into his own hug and Castiel had no choice but to stand there and take it. Castiel shot Dean a desperate look but Dean was too busy being amused by his friend’s lack of social grace to be of any use. John squeezed a final time and pulled back, placing his hands on Castiel’s shoulders. “It’s good to meet you too, son. Dean here has told me a lot about you.” At this Castiel quirked his eyebrow at Dean, who only shrugged in response. “But call me John. Now let’s go in and get you settled. We’re calling pizza for dinner, you got any preferences Castiel?”
“I will eat anything, but I prefer meat to other toppings.” Castiel said, which earned him a hearty laugh and clap on the back from John that propelled him across the threshold.
“Sounds good to me!” John grinned as he stepped inside and headed towards the kitchen to grab the take out menu folder from the junk drawer. “One meat lovers and one cheese.”
“Sammy’s trying to put on this show of eating healthy, but there’s a couple things he can’t resist. Cheese pizza is one of them.” Dean clarified as he too stepped in and settled alongside Castiel.
“Whatever, Dean.” Sam snapped as he strut down the stairs, followed closely by Gabriel. “You’re going to die before you hit thirty because your arteries are more clogged than a werewolf’s shower drain.”
“At least I enjoy my food!” Dean snapped back and lunged at his little brother. Sam caught him in a headlock and soon they were wrestling at the foot of the stairs. Gabriel rolled his eyes and stepped around the mess, coming up to meet Castiel. Gabriel got right into Castiel’s face and squinted up at him. Castiel’s nervousness came back immediately.
“Man, Dean sure knows how to pick ‘em.” Gabriel chimed, a cheeky smirk spreading across his face. “Where’d he pick you up? Male model agency?”
“I was assigned to Dean’s room by the board office.” Castiel deadpanned. “And I only modeled once for Dean’s sculpting class.”
“Oh, trust me sweetheart, I know all about that,” Gabriel winked. “You sure know how to ruffle Dean-o’s feathers don’t ya?” Castiel’s face contorted in confusion and Gabriel’s smile only grew wider.
“Hey, Gabe, leave him alone.” Dean called from his position on the floor. He had Sam’s head in one hand and the other pulling Sam’s leg so that the taller man was contorted into what resembled a twist pretzel. Sam took the opportunity to lick Dean’s hand which made Dean recoil in disgust and at that the match was over. Dean wiped his hand on his pants and strolled over to Castiel. “Sorry, man, the big idiot on the ground is my baby brother Sammy.” Sam gives Dean another frustrated look, then turns to give a small wave and his most charming smile to Castiel. “The tiny annoying one is Sam’s boyfriend, Gabriel. Gabriel, Sam, my roommate Castiel.”
“Pleasure.” Gabriel took a step back but his smile got even more devious, as he gave Castiel a quick pat on the cheek. With a final wink he turned back to go help Sam untangle himself from the floor. Dean gave Gabriel's retreating form a final glare and turned to smile at Castiel.
"Come on man, let's get you settled." Dean picked up the forgotten duffel in one hand and grabbed the sleeve of Castiel's trench with the other as he headed up the stairs. He took two at a time, practically dragging Castiel up with him. "Here, let me give you the tour." Dean stopped them at the top of the stairs, gesturing to the room at the right. "That's Sammy's room. Don't go in there unless specifically invited. Sam and Gabriel like to leave the door unlocked for some reason. I think it's Gabe's idea." Dean moves them down the hall to a door directly across the hall from Sam's room "That's the bathroom, I'll show you everything in there later when you want to take a shower or something." Walking them further down the corridor he gestures towards the closed door at the end of the hall. "That's my dad's room, I wouldn't go in there either, my dad likes his privacy. And this is my room" Dean's hand is on the doorknob of the room just past the bathroom. "It's not fancy but it's got enough room for the both of us."
"Both of us?" Castiel looks at Dean apprehensively.
"Yeah I mean, you could sleep on the couch but to be honest, the blow up mattress is more comfortable." Dean shrugged as he opened the door and stepped inside. "Your choice."
Castiel hesitated for a moment before following Dean into the room. He stood just inside the door and took everything in like he had when they stepped onto the porch. Castiel's eyes jumped from the classic rock posters scattered over the walls to the small bookshelf, back towards the queen sized bed stuck in the middle of the room that sat on top of a dark oak frame, around the walls, grazing over top of the two dark stained walnut dressers and finally landing on Dean. Dean gave a small smile and then shrugged nonchalantly as he busied himself around the room. Rearranging things to give Castiel a space to sleep. Castiel walked quietly to the closest dresser to the door and placed his hand on it gently, tracing the intricate Celtic knot pattern carve around the edges. “This is beautiful, Dean.”
“Thanks. That one was my senior project.” Dean busied himself with straightening the mattress out and pushing the bed frame closer to the wall. Castiel came over to help him and together they easily slid it from the middle of the room to give enough space for Castiel and the air mattress. “This I built with Bobby.” Dean tapped the bed frame.
“Dean, did you build all of this furniture?” Castiel looked around again, awe dawning on his features.
“Well, with help.” Dean shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t like talking about his work, especially the creative kind, he wasn’t even sure why he had told Castiel that he built the furniture. Castiel just had that something about him. It was like truth serum. Times like these he was thankful that Castiel either lacked complete knowledge of how to carry a conversation, or could somehow sense how Dean felt. Instead of going on and on about how gorgeous the furniture was, Castiel just gave him a smile and nodded.
“Not to, uh, interrupt,” Dean whipped his head around and found Sam standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, hip cocked, and the biggest smirk Dean had ever seen, “but, soup’s on.”
Castiel turned to Sam with a perplexed look on his face, “I thought your father mentioned something about pizza?”
Dean rolled his eyes and dragged his friend by the wrist, pushing past Sam on his way out the door, “It’s an expression, Cas.”
“Cas, huh?” Dean turned to find Gabriel peeking out from behind his brother with his eyebrows raised practically to his hairline and a devilish grin. Dean glared and continued to lead Castiel swiftly towards the kitchen.
Dean directed Castiel into the chair on the broad side of the rectangular table in the dining room, then exited to the kitchen to help his father gather up the food and bring it out. When Dean reentered with John right behind him, they both had their arms full of pizza boxes, paper plates, napkins, cups, soda bottles, and Dean had a particularly large bowl of salad balanced on top of his pizza box. Castiel eyed it curiously, catching Dean’s eye. “Sammy always makes us have a vegetable, even though I’ve told him a hundred time, the tomato sauce counts.”
“It doesn’t, Dean. If it’s just as greasy as the meat it doesn’t count as a vegetable.” Sam declared as he entered the dining room, Gabriel hot on his heels. Dean shot Sam an exasperated glance before rolling his eyes again and plopping down in the chair next to Castiel. Sam and Gabriel took the opposite side of the table, Sam across from Dean and Gabriel across from Castiel. John settled himself at the head of the table between his two sons and they all began to distribute the food. Castiel hesitated, not wanting to intrude on the progress the other men were making. Dean looked down from where he was hovering over the meat lover’s box, a slice hanging from his mouth by the crust while his plate was consumed with two more slices and a miniscule portion of salad that was more ranch dressing than vegetables. Letting the pizza from his mouth drop to his plate, Dean took the back of his hand and wiped his mouth before gesturing for Castiel to hand his plate over so Dean could fill it. Together they went back and forth, signalling with eyebrows and head nods, until Castiel had two slices of pizza and a large helping of salad, lightly coated in raspberry balsamic. At Castiel’s dressing choice Sam gave an approving head nod. Gabriel had long since loaded his plate, refusing to eat until he was done admiring Dean and Castiel’s silent communication. “Aw, Dean-o, that was adorable. Do you two have your own secret code? Could you teach me and Sam how to do that?”
Dean dropped Castiel’s plate in its proper spot on the table unceremoniously and slumped back into his chair, grumbling. Castiel canted his head to the side, creasing his brow in confusion. He looked from Dean to Gabriel for clarification, but Dean was too busy staring holes in his dinner and Gabriel too busy whispering things into Sam’s ear to pay him any attention. They spent the rest of the meal in relative calm, John asked Dean question after question about school and how he was keeping up. Dean answered every one, with general honesty. He may have let on that he wasn’t a loner that had only managed to make a handful of friends. Only one real friend, who happened to be sitting next to him, so no way Dean would be admitting that. Especially since Gabriel and Sam had been giving him knowing looks since Castiel had first set foot in the house. After twenty questions came to an end, everyone had finished and John stood to clear the table. Dean and Sam rose in unison, along with Castiel who started gathering up his own mess. Dean put a hand on his shoulder and gave Castiel a small smirk. Castiel furrowed his brow, a look that was becoming quite regular.
“Guests don’t clear their own mess, son.” John said from the kitchen doorway before accepting the dishes from Sam and turning to place them in the sink. “But since you’ll be here for a while, you’re only a guest for the night. You start pulling your own weight tomorrow.” John called back from over his shoulder. Dean gave Castiel a hearty pat on the back before pulling the plates out of his hands and taking the remaining dishes into his dad. Castiel stood, frozen in place, watching Dean leave. When Dean came back to grab the garbage, Castiel was still standing behind his chair, though his hands had dropped to his sides. Dean nudged him with his elbow and raised a brow and he gathered the trash into a half-full black plastic garbage bag. Castiel looked at him dumbfounded, like he’d never been shown this kind of hospitality in his life. Dean shrugged and gave Castiel a sheepish smile before heading to the kitchen and out the back door to put the bag in the metal cans.
“Come on, Castiel. We’re gonna set up poker in the living room.” Sam’s gigantic hand on his shoulder roused Castiel out of his trance. Castiel looked up at Sam and gave a small nod, following the lanky man into the living room, where Gabriel had already settled on the floor at the coffee table, a wooden briefcase propped open in front of him.
“You ever play Texas Hold ‘Em, Cassie?” Gabriel pulls out piles of chips and starts distributing them into five even stacks, handing the cards to Sam to shuffle.
“I’ve read about it. But practice differs from theory.” Castiel says as he sits across the table from Sam.
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine. And if you need any help, you could always ask. We won’t go too harshly on you since it’s your first time.” Sam assures him as he deals out a hand to each of them and two additional ones for the missing Winchesters.
“Speak for yourself, Sammy. I’m not willing to lose shit for helping out a rookie.” Dean protests as he and John enter the living room and take their own seats on the floor, Dean next to Castiel and John opposite Gabriel. After Sam runs through the rules quickly for Castiel the game gets underway.
When Castiel has efficiently cleaned both John and Gabriel out of a hundred dollars each along with dish duty for the rest of the month, it’s down to just Dean. True to his word, Dean hadn’t helped Castiel. In fact, no one had. Castiel fumbled a bit in the beginning, before he realized that lying was the key; after that Castiel’s poker face alone promptly wiped out Gabriel and John had followed closely. Dean had been holding his own, carefully watching Castiel for any twitch, tick, hell even a difference in breathing. He’d found nothing so far and continued to lose, hand after hand. Only when all he had left to offer was his last week of dish duty, did he finally find a break in Castiel's shell that told Dean he was bullshitting. At first, Castiel had been shocked. Then a look came over his eye that was part determination and part malevolence. Gabriel and John both perked up from where they were slumped against the couch, watching the two face off. Dean and Castiel glared at each other over their hands before Castiel set down his hand and went all in. Dean was caught off guard at the tenacity of the move, but had no choice but to go all in as well. His hand was good enough, already three of a kind. As Sam flipped over the final cards, Dean glanced over at Castiel and saw the crack again. Confident in his hand he flipped it over and started to rake in the winnings. Castiel grabbed his wrist quickly though, and with a cunning smirk, turned over his hand. Son of a bitch! Castiel had pulled off a straight flush. Dean went slack jawed and gaped at Castiel as he piled everything in front of him and started to neatly stack it. Sam let out a roaring laugh and Gabriel fell to the floor in giggles. Even John was smirking approvingly. Castiel glanced over at Dean with a glint in his eye. Smug bastard.
Stretching noisily, John unfolds himself from the ground and yawns. “Alright boys, I think that’s enough damage for one night. I’m hitting the hay. Remember to check the doors and windows and shut the lights.” The boy’s both answer affirmative in unison. “And, Castiel? That was quite a show, boy. Not a lot of people can beat Dean here at poker.” Castiel looked up at John’s words and smiled with childish pride. “That’s quite a poker face you got there.”
“I’ll say.” Dean grumbled, John chuckled as he took to the stairs.
“Don’t be such a sore loser, Dean.” Sam teased as he started piling the chips and cards back into the wooden case.
“That’s easy for you to say! You didn’t just gain a month’s worth of dish duty!” Dean whined as he slumped back onto the floor.
“Just admit you were bested and get over yourself.” Sam snapped playfully, tossing a chip and bouncing it off of Dean’s chest.
“Bitch.” Dean snapped back and flung the chip back, narrowly missing Sam’s head.
“Jerk.” Sam stuck his tongue out to emphasize his statement and the both boys broke into laughter as Dean sat up to help Sam finish clearing the table. Castiel tried to help but Dean just swatted his hands away repeating John’s earlier statement about guests not being allowed to help. Castiel rolled his eyes but conceded.
“Okay, now that Cassie’s done cleaning us out, movie marathon? Yes? Good.” Gabriel piped up from the floor.
“God, Gabe. Please. Just, no chick flicks.” Dean moaned as he snapped the closures on the poker case, taking it over to the large bookshelf by the television to store next to the other games. Scooting himself over to the television stand, Gabriel starts to rifle through the drawers, piling DVDs on the floor around him.
“Okay. So... Brat Pack?” Gabriel calls as he holds a DVD above his head and waves it.
“Oh God. Again?” Dean whines, slumping back against the couch. Castiel rises to sit stiffly next to where Dean’s sprawled himself over most of the couch.
“Dean?” Dean hums in response. “What is a Brat Pack?” Everyone turns to Castiel at once, three pairs of eyes wide in disbelief.
“You’ve got to be kidding. Dean, I have to.” Gabriel whines, collecting three more DVD’s from the drawer. “Everyone has to watch the Brat Pack. It’s a requirement of life. A right of passage!”
“Ugh, yeah, whatever fine. Just start with Breakfast Club, okay? I’m making popcorn. Everybody in?” Everyone nods, except Castiel who is still looking hopelessly confused. But Dean ignores that and heads for the kitchen. Castiel turns to the other two, looking for clarification.
“What is a Brat Pack?” Castiel repeats. Gabriel just huffs dramatically and pops the DVD into the player.
“Alright, here. Let me explain.” Sam starts as he settles next to Castiel on the couch, “In the 80’s there were these movies, that everyone saw, I mean everyone. They were teen movies about hanging out and every day problems. So you know, relatable and they got really popular. So anyway, they got the nickname Brat Pack because it always seemed like there was this select group of young actors that were in them. Most of them were even directed by the same guy.” Castiel nods at this. And Sam smiles, clapping him on the shoulder before moving to the large armchair and entangling himself with Gabriel. Dean comes back just as the main title screen is displayed, two large bowls of popcorn balanced in one arm while the other holds the leftover soda from dinner and four glasses. Castiel rises and reaches out hands to help, and just as Dean is about to protest, Castiel gives him a sharp look that makes him snap his mouth shut. Castiel takes one of the large bowls and folds himself around it as he sits back on the couch. Dean glances over and smiles, he looks a lot like Sam used to whenever they had movie nights back when they were still both in grade school. He hands the bowl over to Gabriel and then scurries over to flick the lights off before he can miss the opening credits. Dean doesn’t like to admit it, but Brat Pack movies are some of his favorite. As he settles at the end of the couch and sprawls his feet out to the coffee table he catches Sam’s eye. Sam gives him a knowing look and Dean makes a lewd hand gesture, they both smile and turn back to the TV to enjoy the movie.
Halfway through Sam and Gabriel have decided that they’ve seen it enough and start paying attention to each others mouths instead. Dean rolls his eyes and scoots over close to Castiel. Castiel has perched himself on the edge of the cushion, hugging the popcorn bowl closely, face contorted in extreme concentration. Dean taps him on the shoulder and Castiel sits up slowly, peeling his attention off of the movie. He quirks an eyebrow at Dean and Dean nods his head towards where Gabriel looks like he’s currently trying to taste Sam’s tonsils. Castiel looks over and quickly looks back at Dean, wide-eyed and so flushed that even in the dim light from the TV he’s visibly red. Dean smirked wickedly and grabs a couple pieces of popcorn from the bowl in Castiel’s lap. He pops one in his mouth and places one on his open palm. He lines it up, eyeing his target, before flicking it violently in Sam’s direction. It misses and Castiel snorted softly. Dean puts his finger up to his lips and Castiel nods, watching as Dean tries again. It takes at least ten tries to land one on Sam’s forehead, which happens to bounce off and get sucked into Gabriel's mouth while he takes a breath and then chokes on it, spitting all over Sam’s face. Needless to say Dean falls off the couch laughing. Even Castiel breaks into a smile. Sam and Gabriel don’t find it at all funny, instead turning back to the movie and pouting, barely daring to hold hands. Dean climbs back on the couch next to Castiel and they both turn their attention back to the screen. Throughout the night they slump together naturally, leaning against each other’s shoulders for support. When the final notes of “Don’t You” ring out as John Bender’s fist hangs frozen in the air, Dean snaps up, realizing just how close they’d become. Castiel turns to him and gives him a confused look, opening his mouth slightly like he’s about to say something when Sam coughs lightly.
“So, Castiel?” Sam prods, “Shall we continue?”
Castiel’s gaze leaves Dean to turn his attention to the other Winchester. “Yes. I believe so. I found the closing monologue to be inspirational.” Gabriel squealed in glee and jumps off of Sam’s lap to pop in the next film.
“Do St. Elmo’s Fire next!” Dean barks from the couch.
“No, Dean! You can’t jump from Breakfast Club to St. Elmo’s Fire. We don’t want to traumatize the poor boy!” Gabriel proclaimed, shuffling through the pile of movies, considering each one carefully. “We’re going with Pretty In Pink!”
Dean groans and pushes himself further down on the couch to pout. Castiel looks to Sam again for clarification, clearly not understanding anything that has been said. “Don’t worry,” Sam smiles, “Dean’s just upset because he has a huge crush on Judd Nelson.”
“I do not!” Dean groans, crossing his arms in protest.
“Dude, you so do. You dressed like Bender all through high school, you’ve memorized all of his lines, you used to have a giant ass poster taped to your wall. Admit it!”
“He’s a good actor Sam!” Dean’s argument doesn’t even sound convincing to his ears so he snatches the popcorn out of a confused Castiel’s lap and stuffs his mouth, effectively ending the discussion. Castiel settles next to Dean, folding his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees as he prepares for the next movie to start. Dean calms down a little bit when Castiel takes a moment while the screen blacks out to nudge his shoulder gently and whisper, “I think he’s an excellent actor.” Dean’s not quite sure if he’s patronizing him, but it’s a nice enough gesture that he doesn’t mind too much. After that they slip into silence as Castiel watches Pretty in Pink just as carefully as Breakfast Club. When Molly Ringwald’s character runs to the pretty boy and kisses the hell out of him, Castiel lets out a low groan. “She would have been better off with the Duck.” Dean chuckles in agreement. Without even waiting for the movie to stop Gabriel is up and back in front of the player, readying the next disc.
Dean isn’t sure at what point he officially passed out, but he wakes suddenly with a tickle in his nose and a crick in his neck for sleeping upright for however many hours that was. Though Dean guesses quite a few since he can tell through his eyelids that it’s close to dawn. He snuffs violently and tries to move his head around to get rid of the disturbance. It’s then that a mass presses against on his chest and he snaps his eyes open to look down and find Castiel, tucked into the space between his shoulder and chest, one leg folded across his lap and the other dangling off the edge of the sofa. The popcorn bowl had landed upside down on the floor, somehow, and Sam and Gabriel were piled on top of one another in front of the TV. What the hell happened? Last thing Dean remembered Sam was trying to explain to Castiel the Asian jokes in Sixteen Candles. Dean wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He was certainly in a compromising position, especially if Sam or Gabriel happened to wake up and find him like this. Not to mention what Castiel might think. He wasn’t exactly sure, but Dean didn’t want to take the chance that Castiel might think he was some kind of creep for snuggling with him. He slowly tried to slide his hips out from under Castiel’s leg while simultaneously guiding Castiel down to lay on the couch. Halfway to freedom, Castiel shifted so that his head dropped out of Dean’s reach and the force startled him awake. Flustered and groggy, he looked around himself quickly, like an animal that comes to in a cage from a tranquilizer. He whipped his head around so fast he caught Dean’s temple with his forehead. Dean let out a pained groan and Castiel gasped in shock. “Dean!”
“Shh, Cas, it’s cool. You just got me a little.” Dizzy from the blow, Dean leaned back against the couch to steady himself. Castiel shifted around and took Dean’s head in his hands examining the tender area above Dean’s eye in the early morning light. Dean keeps his eyes closed, still seeing stars, just letting Castiel inspect the damage. Castiel shifts again, over top of Dean now, hovering above his lap. Dean can feel him everywhere and it’s unexpectedly welcome. He snaps his eyes open as Castiel presses a gentle touch to his temple. Castiel recoils his hand, but reached in again, slowly dragging his finger across what Dean expects is the outline of the bruise that will form. Dean hissed in pain and squeezes Castiel’s forearm in warning. Castiel nods and slumps back so that he’s sitting on the very edge of Dean’s knees.
“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel says sheepishly, not looking Dean in the eye. Dean reaches out and lifts Cas’s chin and they lock eyes.
“Hey don’t worry,” Dean assures with a smirk, “Sammy’s hit me harder than that. I’ll live.” Castiel stares at him for a few more moments, expression slowly fading from concerned to serene. They stay like that a few more moments before Dean comes back to himself, realizing just how close they are. He coughs slightly to relieve the sudden tension, “but uh, hey, Cas? Personal space?”
Castiel cocks his head in confusion but realization dawns in his eyes and he quickly stands, embarrassment flushing his face. Dean isn’t sure what to do next so he keeps sitting, hands over the warm spots on his jeans where Castiel was just moments ago. It’s Castiel that breaks the awkward silence first. “You should go put some ice on that.”
Dean nods without looking up and shuffles over to the kitchen to grab ice out of the freezer. He wraps it in a dish towel and comes back to the living room, preparing a speech in his head about how he was glad Castiel had looked at his head and that the whole sitting-on-my-lap thing wasn’t weird. Even in his head he was fumbling over words, trying to string them together into something that could pass as cool and casual. He can’t though, and as he crosses the threshold between the kitchen and living room, he braces himself for the inevitable awkwardness. It never comes though, as he finds Castiel crouched on the ground picking up the spilled popcorn. Castiel looks up at Dean’s reentry and gives him a nod. The situation is officially forgotten and Dean steps over Castiel’s fingers to gather up the empty glasses and soda bottle from the table. They clear the living room together and head upstairs, leaving the still snoring Sam and Gabriel in each other’s arms. Dean shows Castiel where to get towels and which shampoos to use, as promised, and leaves Castiel to it as he promptly passes out on his bed.
Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Epilogue |