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***
Dean gets the call at 4am which he is decidedly not happy about after a late night watching the game he’d recorded while he was on shift yesterday. He grumbles as he pulls back the sheets and slides out of bed, picking up his phone and answering it.
Sam’s on the other end sounding just as tired as he is, a loud yawn ringing out before he talks.
“C’mon Sammy,” Dean teases, trying his best not to react to the yawn with his own. “What you got at this time in the morning?” Dean could probably hazard a guess at what he’s got in store but he’s busying himself making a cup of coffee to take with him to bother with more words that necessary.
“Two bats, little ones are stuck in a woman’s high-rise netting. A third one is on her balcony looking stressed. She said one hit her window which woke her up. I’ll text you the address.” And with that and no other pleasantries, which Dean shouldn’t have expected from Sam before coffee, Sam cuts off. Soon enough his phone chimes with a text message with the same conversation he had with Sam and the address and details of the homeowner.
Dean grabs his bag, a small carrier box and some towels for the bats when he picks them up. He also remembers to grab his net just in case and throws everything in the back of his truck.
Outside the sun is nowhere to be seen, it’ll be a good few hours before sunrise and the air is frigid even with his several layers. He turns up the heat in his truck, glad it’s slightly more modern than his impala and warms up quickly.
The address isn’t too far, just an hour from his Lawrence home and a little way into a city. He finds the high rise easily having been round these parts of the city before.
He’s worked at Winchester Wildlife Rescue as long as he can remember, even having been out with his dad when he was younger. Ever since his dad’s death, he and Sam have carried it on, on call twenty-four-seven all year round. He likes the work. It’s rewarding in more ways than just rescuing various animals from any place he can imagine. He found himself down storm drains, up trees, in tight spots and, on one notable occasion, in the depths of an old mine.
Dean tallies down the list of residents until he finds the R. MacLeod he’s after and buzzes through. It feels like forever until he gets a response, the equipment he’s got slung over his shoulder and under his arms growing heavy, and the chill in the air creeping in.
“Hello?” A very broad Scottish accent comes through the speaker, perhaps he should have guessed with her surname.
“Dean Winchester of Winchester Wildlife Rescue, you called us about some bats?” Dean announces clearly while trying to keep his voice at an acceptable volume for the time of morning.
“Ah! The wee bats, come in,” she says, and the front door unlocks. He shoulders his way in awkwardly. It would have been easier to take his stuff in stages, but Rowena lives on the eighth floor and that’s not something he can be bothered with. So instead he squeezes himself in the small elevator, nearly taking his eye out on the end of his net pole and rides up to the eighth floor.
The entire place is eerily quiet; it seems as though not even the early birds are about yet. He knocks his elbow against the door to gain Rowena’s attention and waits for her to open the door.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting her to look like, but the elegant redhead is not it. Despite the early hour she’s dressed in a long dress which makes her small frame and short stature seem a little intimidating. There’s not much that intimidates Dean, but older ladies who look like they could cuff him on the ear is one of them.
The next door neighbour he and Sam had growing up did just that. She also dished out twice as many hugs and listened as Dean and Sam told her about their after school adventures to save foxes or rabbits.
Rowena leads him through her home, the light oak floors are polished and make him feel guilty for not having taken his shoes off. He guesses the woman would be insistent if he had needed to take off his shoes. Immediately he can see what’s he’s here for. Still flapping around trying to break free are two bats, one’s caught up worse than the other and he suspects there may be some damage. He tries to figure out where the third one is opening the sliding door to the balcony; the last thing he wants is to startle it or step on it if he’s not careful. He spots the bat in the corner looking more than sorry for itself, so Dean opens the door slowly. He places the box with the towels on the balcony floor before kneeling down. He reaches out and swipes up the stressed bat and once it's in his hands he can tell just how young it is. Setting the pup gently in the box and covering its tiny body with a towel, he lays the lid over the top to discourage the bat from escaping.
Standing back up he takes his cutters from his pocket.
“I hope you know what you’re doing with those, young man,” Rowena says behind him. He turns around, making sure to keep his hands on the struggling bat to stop it flapping around so much in the netting.
“Been doing this for twenty-eight years, ma’am, don’t you worry,” he assures her. He knows he can’t be put off with comments like those, he has an important job he needs to be doing.
Some of the netting is caught around the bat’s foot, too tight to unravel so he snips the netting and is able to set it free, placing it with his friend in the box.
The last one is the most concerning; its wing tangled in the netting and it really makes him wish this kind of netting wasn’t necessary. As he’s finishing off he hears a noise behind him, a soft meow which has him looking round in alarm to see a fluffy black cat nosing at the lid.
“Hey!” He warns the cat and it startles. “Could you keep your cat inside please, ma’am?” Dean says to Rowena who looks less than impressed that he dared to yell at her cat.
“He’s just interested in the wee bairns,” she explains uselessly. “Honestly, if you can’t deal with a cat, what can you deal with?”
Dean turns back to tending to the bat before rolling his eyes, trusting the woman to remove her cat. It’s bad enough the bats are injured and stressed, he doesn’t need them half chewed by a curious cat too.
As he cuts the net again and frees the last bat, he inspects it closer. As suspected, there’s a small tear in the right wing and it's now much less agitated than it was still caught up. He sets it in the box and makes sure the lid is on, there’s plenty of breathing holes and space but he hopes the towels will keep them comfortable for the trip to the wildlife centre.
“That’s me done, Ms. MacLeod. Hopefully I won’t be back any time soon,” he jokes but it falls flat with an unimpressed look. Dean sighs internally, it’s not even 6am yet so he shouldn't be surprised.
“Thank you for getting them, I hope they stay well away from my net now.” She means well, he knows, but he can’t help wanting to snark back at her. He keeps quiet though because if she leaves good feedback, it’s more business and exposure for them. What he doesn’t want is a review saying how rude and insulting he is.
He says his goodbyes and leaves the apartment, thankful he didn’t come across the cat again. He heads back down the elevator, his equipment even more awkward now he has a box of bats to keep in check but he makes it down without a hitch.
Dean places the box of bats on the front seat next to him where he can keep and eye on them before grabbing his phone from his pocket so that he can let the wildlife vet know he’s on his way.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says when he hears his phone click through.
“Hello, Dean, you’re calling very early,” Dean can tell that Castiel isn’t even at PAWS yet.
“I’m coming through with three bats shortly, maybe thirty minutes,” he says, getting straight to business; he’ll have time to catch up with Cas shortly
“Alright, I’ll go open up, see you soon and drive safe,”
“Thanks buddy,” Dean hangs up, throwing his phone on the seat next to him and driving off.
He keeps the music low so he doesn't disturb the small creatures and heads down the highway and back towards his home.
He stops of quickly at one of the coffees shops he knows will be open and orders one for both him and Cas just the way he likes it – far too much creamer for Dean’s liking.
Rolling up at PAWS always makes him smile. He and Cas get on well with one another and he’s definitely Dean's favourite vet to go to. Some of the others just don’t have the same warmth as Cas does.
He takes the bats and the coffee inside. The lights are on but the sign on the front door still dictates that it’s closed to the public.
“Hey, Cas!” he calls into the reception area. A few seconds later a bed hair ridden Castiel pokes his head out of the office.
“Hi, you brought coffee,” he says and Dean chuckles indicating which one is his.
“And bats. One’s got a torn wing and the other two I reckon just need some rest.” He places the box on the counter but Castiel nods his head towards the double doors leading into the main part of the animal hospital.
Dean follows him through and then sits down at one of the examination tables. Castiel takes a swig of his coffee before setting it down somewhere that wasn’t supposed to be sterile.
“Let’s have a look then,” Castiel starts. He checks out the one with the broken wing first and talks to the bat like it can understand. Dean can’t fault him, it’s not like he’s never done it before himself but Dean finds it all the more endearing and enjoys watching Cas process through everything he needs to.
He pulls the delicate wing out, the fine skin pulling taut and it becomes clear at that point how big the tear is.
“Oh dear, what are we going to do with you, little one?” Castiel sets him back down in the towels.
The checks on the other two are just as thorough but Castiel find them both to be in good shape. “These two can go in the aviary, but this young man will need to stay back for a few days until his wing heals.”
“Well, I’m glad they’re all okay,” Dean yawns.
“How much sleep did you get if you got called out this morning?” Castiel asks in response to his yawn.
Dean hesitates, he knows that Cas hates how little sleep he has so he could lie and keep him happy or he could tell him the truth and let him lecture him.
“’bout three hours,” he concedes, taking another sip of his coffee to avoid looking at Cas who he knows is disappointed.
“Oh, Dean,” the words cut through Dean like a knife and he feels bad for making Cas worry about him.
“I promise I’ll get an early night tonight,” because honestly it seems like a really good plan.
“Or you could go take a lie down upstairs on my bed?” Cas suggests.
“What?” Dean feels flustered suddenly, of course he’s been up to Cas’ house before but he’s never slept there. Even on the days he’s been over late, he’d always gone home. Right now though it’s enticing and Cas’ worried expression is making the decision easier.
“You,” Cas points at him while putting the two healthier bats in the box and sets the other one aside wrapped in a towel to be placed in a different area to heal, “go upstairs and sleep.” Now that’s an order with no wiggle room because it’s Cas and he has the stern eyebrow in his arsenal that he won’t hesitate to use on him.
“Fine, I’ll be on the couch,” Dean says, getting up off the stool he’d been sat on. Castiel seems to busy himself with the bats, turning away from Dean. Before Dean leaves, he wants to make sure Cas is okay. Cas is usually a little more enthusiastic, even at this time in the morning, but he’s been a little distant this morning. “Hey, Cas?”
Castiel turns to him and gives him a little smile. He’s now holding a large grey rabbit in his hands which is the most adorable thing Dean has seen in a while. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay?” he asks and Castiel breathes out a long breath.
“Of course, Dean,” he replies, but Dean doesn’t really believe him for some reason. He’s not going to pry though, he already knows how much he hates it when Cas presses him for his feelings.
“Okay,” Dean says with one last smile. He makes to leave the room through the back door which he knows leads up the narrow staircase to Cas’ apartment.
He hears Cas call out after him, “take my bed if you want,” before the door swings shut with a thud.
Dean contemplates it, he could, but that would be weird, wouldn’t it? Sleeping in another man’s bed. He steps through the main door into the living room. The couch is plush, just like he remembers it, but he wanders to Cas’ bedroom anyway.
Cas’ dark blue duvet is made perfectly, not a wrinkle in sight and despite Cas’s say so that he can sleep there he decides against it. After all, he can’t mess up his bedsheets, not when they’re so neat.
He grabs a glass of water from the kitchen, downing it, washing it and stacking it on the drying rack before heading back to the living room. He kicks off his shoes and jacket and lies down, practically sinking into the well-loved couch and breathes out.
He barely has another thought before he’s asleep.
*
Dean wakes up to the feeling of something being put on top of him and mumbles unintelligibly at Cas.
“I thought I said you could sleep in my bed?” Cas says quietly, tucking what Dean realises is the throw from the back of the couch around him. He’s already pretty cosy but the blanket is a nice additional comfort.
“Didn’t wanna ruffle your sheets” he says remembering the conclusion he came to earlier. Dean sees Cas shake his head with a fond smile. “How are the bats?”
“Two of them are settling in the aviary and the other one I managed to patch up the wing and give him some antibiotics.” Cas explains, Dean watching him stack up a few magazines like he needs to hide the mess.
“Good, that’s real good,” Cas hums a response and then goes off out of sight.
Dean surprisingly sleeps for another two hours and when he wakes up this time the sun is shining bright through the open curtain, making shadows on the carpet from the plants that line the windowsill. He sits up slowly, stretching his back and arms finding them a little achy. It wasn’t long he spent on the couch but perhaps, in hindsight, he should have chosen Cas’ bed.
Dean stands, folding the blanket up and the casting a glance to where he’s spotted Cas curled up in the recliner. A pot of coffee is definitely in order, so he pads into the kitchen and finds two mugs and the coffee as quietly as possible. He can’t eliminate the sound of the coffee maker gurgling but he hopes it won’t wake him before he’s ready.
While he waits, Dean stands in the doorway and finds himself watching Castiel. He’s known him for several years now and they’ve become fast friends which is a benefit when he’s calling in the early hours of the morning with a wildlife emergency. This is a first though, he’s been told several times that he needs more sleep, but never before has Castiel asked him to stay. It’s nice, he realises and the thought sets ticking an anxiety in him.
If he wasn’t so constantly busy between Winchester Wildlife Rescue and his shifts at the Roadhouse, then maybe having someone in his life would be nice. Not Cas though, they’re just friends. It still makes him wonder though sometimes if he could really have someone.
Dean shakes his head, he slept on the guy’s couch once and he’s getting all domestic? That’s just ridiculous.
The coffee pot ceases its gurgling and Dean pours himself a cup and on a second thought makes one for Cas too, just how he likes it. He leans his hip against the counter and watches out to the small wooded area that the property backs on to.
Cas always said that it makes for a good release site for a couple of the animals that pass through the hospital. He and Dean have released several over the past few years, often taking short trips to the edge of one of the protected reserves to set them free where the wildlife is in less danger of running back into areas that are unsafe for them.
“You made coffee?” Cas is right behind him and Dean jumps, his coffee splashing over his hand. He hisses automatically, but the coffee isn’t that hot any longer like he’d expected. “Shit.” Castiel scrambles for the roll of paper towels and is there mopping up the mess.
Dean’s insides go fuzzy when Castiel takes hold of his hand, removing the coffee cup and then dabbing up the coffee. Part of him wants to pull away, but it feels nice, and he should have nice once in a while.
“Thanks,” Dean smiles up at him and Castiel returns it, his eyes shining despite their tiredness, making Dean’s heart speed up for a moment.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you’d heard me get up,”
“No sweat, just a bit of coffee, wasn’t even that hot,” he assures Cas and he nods, picking up his own coffee and taking a deep drag of the smell before sipping at it appreciatively, slurping quietly at the liquid.
“Anything interesting out there?” Cas asks, changing the subject swiftly.
“Trees,” Dean says dumbly, but realises it doesn’t matter when he turns back and Cas is chuckling into his coffee.
“Ah, yes,” Castiel purses his lips, but his eyes and nose are crinkled with mirth.
“Alright, make all the fun,” he says and finishes off his coffee in a few gulps even though it’s still a little hot. He’s just noticed the time and if he’s going to make it to his afternoon shift, he should probably get going no matter how much he would rather spend the day with Cas. Following him around the wildlife hospital for the day sounds much more interesting than serving the same three patrons at The Roadhouse. “Look, I gotta go,”
“So soon?” Castiel looks disappointed and that alone makes Dean wish he could call in sick, but Ellen would chew him out in a heartbeat if he tried.
“Yeah – two jobs and all, gotta pay the bills somehow,” Dean shrugs, rinsing out his mug and setting it on the side for Castiel to either put in the dishwasher or hand wash – he knows the man is particular about his mugs. Cas doesn’t say anything to that, just stands by the doorway as an awkward silence hangs between them and then Dean moves, making for the living room to find his shoes. He left his bag in his truck so he doesn’t need to traipse through the hospital to get back out.
As he perches on the couch, tying his boot laces back up, Cas seems to lurk around. Dean looks up to him before he stands and he’s sure that Cas wants to say something and he’s about to ask what’s on his mind when Cas speaks, “do you want to go for a drink some time?”
Dean’s heartbeat seems to stumble into slow motion, before he deciphers Cas’ question. “Yeah, sure, why not?”
Castiel smiles, and his cheeks flush. “Like… a date kind of drink?” He adds.
And Dean’s heartbeat really does stumble to a stop and his gut flips.
“A date?” Dean queries, making sure he’s heard Cas right.
“If you don’t—it was a stupid idea, I’m sorry.”
“No! Yes… I’d…” Dean clears his throat giving him time to gather his scattered thoughts. Cas just asked him on a date which was something he barely put a thought too (he may have thought about it once or twice but had always filed it away in his never gonna happen box). “I’d love to, Cas,”
“Really?” Cas seems to be in just as much shock as Dean which in some ways is comforting because it means that they’re both in this confused box together. They’ll work it out, Dean hopes.
“Yes, really,” Dean smiles. “So, you free tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow? Yes,” Castiel grins, rocking up onto the balls of his feet and then hiding his smile with his mug.
“Great, I’ll pick you up?”
“Only if it’s in the Impala,” Castiel smirks and Dean can’t help but chuckle; as if he would pick someone up in something that isn’t his baby.
“Shotgun’s all yours,” Dean stands finally and moves tentatively towards Cas. He doesn’t feel like he can initiate anything before their first date, it’s all too fresh and uncertain, but even as the friends they are now, they’ve always been a little tactile with each other.
As Dean moves past Cas to get to the back door to leave, he squeezes his forearm gently, and sees how Cas’ cheeks flush once again and he bows his head. “See you tomorrow then.”
“Yes, tomorrow.”
Dean leaves, feeling the blast of the midmorning air hit him as he makes his way down the steps. Unlocking his truck, Dean glances back and he’s warmed to see Cas peering out the living room window. He waves and Cas waves back.
***
Dean rolls up the next evening with nerves fluttering in his stomach. He doesn’t get chance to be nervous for too long as Castiel must have heard the Impala come up the driveway and comes rounds from the back of the house.
Cas smiles as he nears and opens the passenger side door, sliding in. “Hello, Dean,”
“Hey, Cas,” a silence spread over, then, but instead of being smothering, it was a nice silence which Dean hadn’t expected.
Dean drives them the scenic route to a small hole-in-the-wall bar and parks up under a streetlamp.
“Where are we?”
“Benny’s, it’s a small bar with a restaurant too, serves the good kind of southern comfort food?” Dean explains, he nudges Cas’ shoulder as they saunter across the deserted road.
“I’ve always wanted to try gumbo,” Castiel says and Dean knows, they’ve had this conversation before, but it must have been well over a year since Cas mentioned it.
“Let’s go on in then, I’m sure there’s a quiet corner we can take over for the evening,” Dean grabs the door, holding it open and letting Cas pass through first.
“A true gentleman,” Cas remarks with a shy smile, “we’ll have to take the gentleman-ness in turns,” he chuckles and Dean does too.
They spot a cosy looking corner to one side and make a beeline for it; a small booth with a small candle in the centre which sets the mood nicely.
“So...” Dean starts and honestly it can’t be more awkward if he tries. Cas picks up the drinks menu and peruses the wine while Dean already knows he’s after one of the craft beers. “Name’s Dean Winchester, I’m an Aquarius, I like long walks on the beach and frisky people.” The words are out before he can really think about them.
Cas puts down the menu, holding out his hand to Dean. It’s not clear what he’s thinking, but eventually he smiles back at Dean, “Cas Novak, I’m a Virgo, I like long walks in the mountains... And uh... Yes,” he finishes awkwardly, a flush high on his cheeks in comparison to Dean’s crassness.
“What can I get you boys?” Their waiter asks. Dean looks up at the voice and sure enough it’s Benny.
“Hey, Benny,” he greets.
“Nice seein’ you back here, Dean. Been a while.”
“Work’s been a lot lately so I haven’t had a lot of time for social stuff.”
“Looks like yer back on the wagon now, Chere,” Benny winks at him and nods his head towards Cas.
“Yeah, first date and all,”
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Benny disappears with their order, leaving Dean and Cas to talk among themselves.
“He seems friendly,” Castiel comments.
“Yeah, I used to be here on all the nights I wasn’t working the roadhouse. Never used to drink much with being on call though, but it was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t Sam.”
“You’re more than welcome to stop by for a chat,” Castiel says, giving Dean a small smile.
“Thanks, Cas, ‘preciate it,”
Benny comes swinging by with their drinks, setting them down with just a nod. Dean thanks him with a smile and turns back to Castiel who has a weird look on his face.
“So you and Benny?” He doesn’t need to say it, the rest of the implication is already there and Dean’s face heats up and he scratches the back of his neck, fuck, he’d kinda forgotten about that. Talking about past relations on a first date, surely that’s not a good thing.
“Oh... Uh—once, ” he admits, “a very drunk once,” he chuckles nervously, but Cas doesn’t seem that bothered. Of course, it shouldn’t be weird that he’s had past flings and relationships with people, he’s nearing thirty, should it? Besides, he and Benny are like brothers than anything else.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Cas says, taking a sip of his wine. Dean watches him, momentarily, and how he seems to taste the wine like this is some kind of posh restaurant. “It’s fruity,” he concludes and Dean holds his beer glass up towards Cas.
Their glasses clink together quietly, neither of them wanting to draw too much attention to their small company.
Their dinners come out soon enough and Dean’s thankful it’s not Benny. He’s not that embarrassed, he and Benny had a good time together. They just knew anything other than a roll in the sheets was never going to work with Benny’s long hours at the bar and Dean’s awkward and temperamental hours at The Roadhouse and animal rescue.
Castiel hums around his Gumbo and Dean is salivating over his fried chicken before it even hits his lips. They eat in silence, too enamoured by their food to talk as well.
The beer and wine goes down well and Cas joins him with his second beer. They’re full after the hearty meal but Cas insists he has room for dessert. He goes for a chocolate brownie sundae and, before the waitress can leave, Dean asks for two spoons.
“Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” Cas teases and Dean forgets that they have known each other for years already.
At first they try to eat respectfully, one then the other but Cas spots the brownie chunk, and he’s obviously too taken by it to care that its Dean’s turn to scoop. “Hey, that was gonna be my brownie,” He protests indignantly. Cas spoons it towards his mouth in slow motion with a smirk before chewing it with a show despite Dean’s faked aghast. Dean takes his own scoop of just ice cream and cream before Cas goes in again.
Cas’ spoon comes towards him, laden with brownie and Dean doesn’t hesitate to take it off him. “That’s good brownie,” he exclaims, barely having swallowed it down.
Dean insists on paying and still, his gut feels warm and happy when Cas agrees as long as he pays next time. Next time. That’s good in Dean’s books. Better than good.
They leave soon after, and as soon as they’re out in the cool evening air, Castiel’s fingers brush Dean’s and then they’re slipping their hands together. Hand in hand, they walk together towards the Impala in a content silence.
They talk about their weeks ahead, Dean’s got a couple of later shifts at The Roadhouse and whatever callouts he gets.
“I should stop by if I have time, check on those bats... And you too,”
“That’s sweet Dean,” and Dean’s not sure weather to be flattered or offended by that.
Dean’s phone rings and he fishes his out of his pocket. The ringtone tells him it’s Sam, so he hands the phone to Cas’ direction.
“It’s Sam, could you answer it?” Dean asks, Cas takes the phone and answers, he can only hear one side of the conversation.
“A buck?” Dean looks sharply across to Cas whose brow is knitted in concern.
“Okay, we’re close to Dean’s house, so we can both go down. Bye Sam.”
“What’s the score?”
“Buck trapped in a backyard, seems it leapt in but doesn’t want to leap out. The house owner said it was limping,”
Dean veers onto the highway back to his house and it’s not long before he’s got the Impala parked in the garage and they’re hopping out.
“Jump in the truck, I’ll grab some supplies,” Dean doesn’t wait to see if Cas does get in the truck before he’s grabbing what he needs from inside and carting it out to the truck. He can see Cas inside, fiddling with the radio and his first thought is to make sure he’s not changing the station, but when he climbs in and finds KISS FM playing some chart hit. “Really, Cas?”
“It’s catchy,” he claims, but Dean just shuts his mouth, throws the truck into gear and speeds off towards the address Cas pulled up.
The house is a big one, on the edge of town where the woodland begins. It's already dark which means this might be harder than they need at this time of night.
“Ready to catch a deer?” Dean asks enthusiastically. He’s glad he didn’t go all out smart for their date because it would be inconvenient, but he does pull on a sweater over his shirt to battle the cold. They both go up to the door and it opens as they arrive.
“It’s round back, pretty chill at the moment, maybe wore itself out.” The man says, his wife hovers behind him as the man slips on a pair of garden shoes and shows them out.
Their backyard is lit with a few security lamps which Dean knows will help them out.
“Over there,” Castiel says, pointing to a wooden jungle gym and to the deer that is curled up by the swings.
“Okay, let’s see what we can do,” Dean nods to Castiel who seems to be enjoying their detour into Dean’s job. “Cas, you wanna head round one way and try to block its path if it spooks when I go up from behind?”
“Okay, be careful, Dean,”
“Careful is my middle name,” he replies to which Cas raises a brow. So maybe Cas knows him too well, sue him, it’s not the first time he’s had to catch a white-tailed deer and probably won’t be the last. “Let’s go.”
Slowly, so they don’t spook the deer too soon, Dean takes steady steps towards the jungle gym. The swings are swaying lightly in what little breeze there is, and his breath is just about visible when he breathes out in controlled huffs. His heart is jackhammering against his ribcage. This sort of job is what he enjoys. He remembers helping his dad catch a couple of rogue sheep that had run off a guy’s farm.
He looks up to Cas who has concentration written all over his face and for the first time ever, he really notices how… cute… he is. He’s seen that same face hundreds of times whenever Dean’s stayed with him as Cas treated the animals he brought to him; but he’s never noticed it properly before. There’s a ruffle and then movement in front of him as the deer bolts. Fuck, he should have been watching the deer and not Cas’ face.
First attempt down, Dean stands up from his hunched spot. “What were you looking at? You had a good chance,” Cas chides, though there’s no malice behind it.
A wave of nervousness goes through Dean, “may have been distracted,” he admits, however.
Castiel rolls his eyes with a smile and shakes his head. “We’ve been friends for nearly fifteen years,”
“I know, but—” Dean sighs, trying to phrase his words right. “This is new, and different, and maybe these feelings have always been there and you asking me on a date, it let me have them, for real.”
Castiel stills for a moment, eyes blinking. “We have a deer to catch,” and if that wasn’t a plot twist then who knows. When Castiel turns to see if the deer has settled elsewhere, Dean just stares after him. They can talk about this later, it’s not really what they need to be doing right now.
They work well together, after that, slowly surrounding the deer until it doesn’t have any place to go. Dean goes for the antlers to lessen any potential impaling of himself or Cas and then Cas manages to subdue his body until he calmed.
“Lift on three?” Dean asks, looking to Cas for confirmation that he’s ready. This is a hundred-and-fifty-pound deer which will be no easy task. Ideally, they could have done with a third but just the two of them will have to suffice.
“One…” Cas begins, bending his knees and keeping his back straight. He wraps his arms around the deer securely which wriggles some.
“Two…” Dean makes sure that the antlers are tucked away and safe from doing them any harm.
“Three.” They lift, one sweeping movement and begin to walk it out of the backyard and towards the wooded area. Dean doesn’t want the animal moved too far, as it’s herd is probably around here somewhere. It’s still pretty young and separating it at this point could do more harm than good.
By the time they reach a good distance from the house, Dean’s sweating and panting, chest heaving as he tries to maintain his grip on the deer. In the darkness, Cas doesn’t even look like he’s breaking a sweat, which, knowing he’s into his fitness, isn’t all that surprising.
“Here,” Dean croaks out. They could go a couple more metres, but Dean’s arms are about to give out, and he’s worn out enough that all he wants now is to sleep for at least the next month. Together, they set down the deer and it tries to get away prematurely. A quick once over using their head torches shows that the deer seems to be in good shape despite the earlier concern that it was limping a little. It’s good for them because it means that Cas isn’t trying to treat an animal with limited supplies in the utter darkness. Cas lets go first, leaving Dean with the antlers which begins to wrestle out of his arms and soon enough he lets them go too. The deer is up and bounding away into the woods quickly before Dean can even get up from kneeling on the ground.
“Nice work, Cas,” Dean says, turning back once the deer is out of sight.
“You too, Dean,” Cas smiles and bumps against his shoulder lightly. “I’ll go wait in the car while you speak to the owners,”
“Sure, I won’t be long. Just – leave off the crappy music?”
“I think I should be offended here,” Cas gasps, a dramatic hand to his heart.
“I’m the offended one here, you didn’t leave Poison playing.”
Castiel hums and then leaves Dean to talk to the owners, there’s not much to say, he mostly thanks them for calling him out and that the deer is free in the woods once again. He heads back to the car and he should have expected it but the crappy KISS station is back on but Cas is smirking.
“I’m beginning to wonder if you even like me,” Dean comments with a huff, he looks longingly down at the tuning settings but resists changing it.
“You haven’t changed it back so that counts for something,” Castiel grins and then there’s a hand over his own, soft but cold from being out in the chilly air. He’s right though, Dean’s always changed the music back. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole, he remembers fondly and even more so how Cas had dramatically rolled his eyes. That had been one of the first times they’d done a job together, some ten years ago.
The hand doesn’t leave his as he starts the car, and maybe it’s a little weird but it makes his heart stutter and cheeks flush and he finds more comfort in it than he cares to comment about. As they drive off, Dean lowers his hand to the bench seat between them and entwines his fingers properly.
“Your hands are cold,” is the only comment Dean makes and holds on tighter. He doesn’t miss Cas’ other hand flexing, probably warming it up, before resting between his thighs.
With the late hour, the roads are clear and fifteen minutes into the thirty minute journey back, Cas has fallen asleep. Dean extricates his hand from Cas’ so he has better control over the car, the last thing he needs is for a really great night to end in disaster.
He chances a look at Cas, watching how the glow of the passing street lamps flicker over his features. He can’t work out how he’s never noticed how handsome Cas is before. He’s been out and about in all his bisexual colours since high school and yet, he’s only just noticing.
It baffles him and yet, maybe he’s okay with it and maybe the universe just needed him to wait until the right time. Yes, he’s still busy and no, he wasn’t ready for dating anyone—he wasn’t even dipping his toe in—but here’s Castiel right next to him looking perfect and who asked him out for dinner and it suddenly feels like it’s all clicked into place.
He can find the time to see Cas, be it at work or in what little spare time he has, all because he wants to. Because Cas is someone he wants to see above anything, hanging out, watching movies, throwing freshly cooked popcorn at each other in the kitchen. And he wants to see Cas smirking over the rim of his mug again because he’d never seen something quite so lovable, even if it had been at his own expense.
Dean prods Cas lightly as they pull up on Dean’s driveway, he could have taken Cas the extra twenty minutes back to his house but maybe he can repay the favour of sleeping on his couch yesterday morning. Cas grumbles and seems lost for a moment.
“It’s my house, come inside and sleep for the night,”
Cas doesn’t answer but opens the truck door and follows him into the house, weariness in every step. At least Dean’s couch is on the ground floor and they don’t have to waste effort getting up there. He guides Cas towards the living room where he slumps on the couch.
Dean pulls out several blankets from inside the pouffe and drags them over Cas.
“You coming to join me?” Cas asks, half asleep and snuggling into the warm blankets.
Dean pauses for a moment, just watching Cas blink sleepily at him and nods. He wouldn’t miss being on the couch under blankets with Cas for the world now.