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Twenty-four hours had passed since the BILLY-accident, almost to the minute. The rest of the previous night was a blur of beer, sloppy kisses, beer, shelves and more beer. They had fallen asleep in Castiel’s bed, exhausted after a long day, with a fluttering feeling in their stomachs, a feeling that something new was about to start.
The only thing was, Castiel wasn’t so sure that this new thing was necessarily a good thing. He really liked Dean, he was funny and caring and sweet and good-looking. But they hardly even knew each other. And these kind of things never played out in Castiel’s favor, of that he was sure. When Dean had left earlier with a brief kiss and a promise to come back soon he had smiled and kissed back, but his stomach was churning.
Castiel sighed and massaged his temples. He could never avoid Dean if things got screwed up, they lived in the same building, only separated by three floors. He willed himself to stop thinking ‘what if’ and began unpacking more boxes with books. Castiel managed to connect his CD-player to his speakers and not so long afterwards he had Bitter Sweet Symphony blaring out, the volume probably inconsiderate, but he didn’t really care.
He lost himself in his books, filling up one shelf after the other with everything from science to theology to a biography on Alice Cooper. If an outsider came to look it would seem as if his books were places haphazardly, but Castiel had a system. It wasn’t his fault that no one seemed to understand it. He had spent three days in his old apartment once, taking out all his books and then reorganizing them. His boyfriend at the time, Balthazar, had just stared at him and exclaimed that it looked exactly the same as it did before. Castiel had rolled his eyes and sighed, the whole system was rearranged. He couldn’t help to wonder if Dean would understand his system, and if he would be able to put a borrowed book back in its right place.
When he had only seven boxes left and hummed along to Lovefool he heard a knock at the door. He cringed, assuming it was Dean, but it was rude to ignore people, apparently, so he opened the door after taking a deep breath. He looked up from his feet, bracing himself to meet Dean’s green, amazing, warm, kind eyes. But when he gazed up he was met with a blue wall and an empty space. He muttered something about pranks and kids when something caught his eye.
He picked up the small note, one of those you get at IKEA to write up the name and article number on with IKEA printed at the top, and squinted. He really should use his glasses more, but they make him feel old. Castiel read the note, and then had to read it again, just to be sure. It read: ‘Meet me at the roof? I have pie! – Dean’.
Castiel smiled slightly, and turned to grab his coat. He was almost out the door when he turned back to dig through a box in the hallway after a blanket and a scarf; it was early November after all. Satisfied with what he found, a blue scarf and a plaid blanket in brown and green, he locked the door and walked the few steps to the only other door on the floor. He managed to find the right key on the second try, and pushed the door open to reveal a ratty old staircase, illuminated only by the open door at the top.
Wrapping the coat and scarf tightly around himself he began climbing the stairs, hearing soft music coming from the roof. He didn’t recognize the song, but he rarely did so it didn’t really bother him. As he reached the top he waited, trying to talk himself out of it but failing, taking a few deep breaths and clutching the blanket in his arms.
“Cas?” he heard a deep voice say somewhere on the roof, and he decided that his cowardly days were over, and stepped out on the roof.
The sight that met him had him breathless. Dean was standing in the middle of the roof, lit up by the lanterns, a soft glow seemingly radiating from behind him against the dark sky littered with stars. A table stood in one corner of the roof, a pie placed upon it along with two plates, beside them two spoons, accompanied by a small CD-player, soft rock floating from the speakers. There were no chairs, but the chaise lounge (as he had learned when reading the actual label on the package) they’d bought stood proudly next to the table, covered in pillows and blankets.
“Hey,” Dean said, sounding nervous, “you, uh, you came.”
“Yeah,” Castiel replied breathlessly as he walked towards Dean, still looking around him in awe, “Dean, this is fantastic,” he continued as he stood right in front of Dean, so close he could count every single one of the other man’s freckles. Dean hummed in agreement before closing the distance and placing a chaste kiss on Castiel’s lips. He didn’t deepen the kiss and he didn’t wind his arms around Castiel as he had done the day before. He just kissed him lightly, lips pressing against lips before breaking away, smiling.
“I- uh, I was thinking, that perhaps we’re moving a bit too fast, and I haven’t even asked you what you want or anything, so I thought the least I can do was giving you a real date. That is, if you want to, you know,” Dean said, the nervousness evident even if he was visibly trying to hold it back.
“I’d love to,” the shorter man answered, reaching up to press a kiss to Dean’s lips before moving to sit.
“Pie?” Dean asked, and, when Castiel nodded, handed him a plate with apple pie.
“I see you managed to get the damn sofa-thingie up here, what did the landlord say?” Castiel mumbled around a spoonful of pie as Dean sat down next to him, pressing up against him, shielding him from the cold.
“Nothing, he’s an old family friend, I can basically do anything,” Dean said, winking before taking a bite himself. He moaned obscenely once again, apparently something he did every time he ate pie.
“Oh,” Castiel whispered, thinking about that it was yet another thing he didn’t know about Dean, the previous anxiety coming back. Dean, noticing he had been zoning out, nudged his shoulder.
“Hey, Cas? You ok?” he asked, worry in his eyes. Castiel nodded, looking down at his plate and what was left of the pie, before shaking his head, feeling tears burning behind now closed eyelids. He felt strong arms around his shoulders, wrapping his blanket around him, pulling him close. The smaller man rested his head against Dean’s chest, his ragged breathing slowing down as he listened to Dean’s heartbeats.
“You wanna talk about it?” Dean whispered after a while and Castiel shook his head. He wasn’t ready to let this go, not yet. Surely Dean wasn’t willing to stay if Castiel showed him what a mess he really was. Dean drew circles on Castiel’s shoulder with his hand and leaned his head to rest on the back of the chaise lounge.
“You know,” Dean began, speaking up into the sky, “there’s so much I don’t know about you. You could be a serial killer or a drag queen for all I know. But, what I do know about you I like. And I know that I want to learn more about you, your life and your habits and quirks. I already know you’re an impossible book nerd, that you don’t appreciate good music but that you like my car. I know you can bake awesome pies and that something serious happened before you moved here. I know I really like you, Cas,” he finished, still staring up at a velvet night. Castiel turned his head to look up at him, smiling slightly as he sniveled.
“Well,” Castiel said and Dean looked down at him, hugging him closer, “I don’t know that much about you either, except that you are great at assembling IKEA furniture while drunk and that pie is the third most important thing in your life.” Dean chuckled, pressing a kiss to his forehead as Castiel nestled his arms around Dean.
“Only third? What’s the other two?” Dean asked, still laughing slightly, making Castiel smile again.
“Well, there’s Sam as number one. And then there’s your car, Baby I think you call it. Correct me if I’m wrong,” Castiel replied, feeling uneasy. Where was he on Dean’s list of important things?
“I think,” Dean mused, “that perhaps pie has been downgraded to fourth.”
“Mhm?”
“Yeah, I think someone baking divine pies deserves to have a place on the list as well,” Dean answered, pressing another kiss to Castiel’s forehead and then one on his nose. Castiel’s heart swelled as he allowed himself to live in the moment, to feel safe in Dean’s arms, at last.