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”So, Cas, what’s your party trick?” the man from sales sitting next to Castiel asks. Castiel sighs, it is yet another Christmas dinner organized by the company he works at, and he is ordered to be there ‘or be square’, whatever that means. He wonders for a moment how the man knows his name, but then he remembers the pink and flowery self-adhesive sticker with his name on that Becky had almost attacked him with the minute he stepped through the doors. Some wore it with pride, like Becky herself and Zachariah, the manager. Castiel finds them superfluous; he knows the names of those he needs to know the names of. The man coughs, to get Castiel’s attention.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Castiel begins, “I wasn’t aware that I’m supposed to bring something.” He tries to convey that he isn’t familiar with the term ‘party trick’, but the man just laughs. On his nametag is written DEAN in large letters. Dean takes a sip from his beer and looks at Castiel. Castiel glances back and it isn’t until now he notices that this ‘Dean’ is good looking. Ridiculously good looking come to think of it. He wears an ugly green sweater with a reindeer on, and across it was written ‘Oh Deer’ in bright red. Castiel actually laughs.
“A party trick,” Dean explains, “isn’t something you bring. It’s something you can do, like a card trick or wiggling your eyebrows. So, what’s your?”
“I don’t think I have one,” Castiel says, frowning. Is this actually something that people spend time thinking about, or practicing, to be able to show off at company dinners or friend’s parties?
“Everyone has a party trick, some weird thing you’re good at or some strange fact you remember? My only party trick is that I can recite the whole ‘Moses supposes’-scene from Singin’ in the Rain,” Dean says, eyes crinkled from smiling.
“I don’t understand that reference,” Castiel mumbles, fiddling with his fork. Dean seems very intense, very extrovert in comparison to Castiel’s more introvert nature.
“You don’t? You haven’t seen Gene Kelly’s Singin’ in the Rain? The scene with the tap dancing in the rain? You know, I read that they blended the water with milk, so that when it splashes you can see it better. And apparently Gene Kelly had a high fever when they shot it and Debbie Reynolds, who’s the mother of Carrie Fisher, Princess Leia, by the way, she was apparently bullied by- Sorry, I’ll stop rambling now, I seem a bit nerdy perhaps…” Dean says, blushing a bit and copying Castiel’s fiddling with his fork. Come to think of if, isn’t it a thing, that if someone copies your movements, leans in when you do, crosses their legs when you’ve crossed yours, that they’re interested? Could Dean really be interested? Castiel had barely said a word.
“No, I- You seem very interested in movies,” Castiel tries, making conversation isn’t really his thing, “Is it an interest of yours?” Dean laughs again, and Castiel unconsciously leans forward, as if to hear it better.
“You might say that, you should see my collection at home, I’ve got everything from Bergman and Fellini to Mel Gibson and Leslie Nielsen,” Dean from sales says, looking proud. Castiel thinks for a minute.
“I think I’ve heard about the first two, the Swede and the Italian? But the last two, no idea, sorry,” Castiel says apologetic, slowly taking another bite of the Christmas pudding, far too sweet for him, but he feels Zachariah’s eyes on him, so he swallows and smiles slightly. Dean leans in and whispers.
“Do you want to be relieved of that pudding? I can help,” Castiel shudders at the closeness and nods, his nose almost brushing against Dean’s cheek. He hadn’t known that it could feel so good, only being close to someone else, being paid attention, being smiled at. Castiel nods and Dean quickly swaps their plates when Zachariah’s looking away.
“I think I have a party trick,” Castiel says after a while, smiling a fake smile at Zachariah who nods approvingly when he sees Castiel’s empty plate. Dean turns to look at him and smiles.
“Yeah? Let me hear it,” Dean winks, putting one arm over the back of Castiel’s chair, leaning back slightly.
“Well, I’m pretty good at German. So I can say a lot of things in German, for example Zwischenkieferknochen, which is a bone is the face, supposedly first discovered by Goethe, the man who wrote Werther’s Suffering, one of the great romantic novels, which caused a suicidal wave through Europe after its release, since the protagonist, Werther, kills himself in the end,” Castiel says, Dean’s eyes gone wide. “Who’s the nerd now?” Castiel adds quietly, eliciting a laugh from Dean.
“You know, you should be on QI, with all the stuff you know,” Dean says, still laughing. “So, can you say anything else in German? The only thing I can say is Lederhosen and ‘Ein Bier bitte’, but that is a story for another time,” he continues, now seemingly laughing more at the memory of Lederhosen and beer than Castiel, looking out into nothing. Castiel shies away, leaning back in his chair, turning forward again. It’s not the first time he loses someone’s interest; he’s used to it by now.
“Hey, uh, do you know anything other in German?” Dean asks, apparently still interested and Castiel’s head snaps back towards Dean. Castiel eyes him for a second, just to be sure, before answering.
“Im wunderschönen Monat Mai,
Als alle Knospen sprangen,
Da ist in meinem Herzen
Die Liebe aufgegangen.
Im wunderschönen Monat Mai,
Als alle Vögel sangen,
Da hab' ich ihr gestanden
Mein Sehnen und Verlangen,“ Castiel recites, Dean’s eyes growing wider and wider for every word, until at the last verse, when he closes them and listens to Castiel’s gravelly voice caressing the words of a completely foreign language.
“What was that?” Dean asks when Castiel falls silent, opening his eyes again to look at Castiel.
“Heinrich Heine’s poem about the month of May, I could translate it for you some time if you want,” Castiel says, before realizing he actually offers Dean to meet with him again, so he adds, “only if you want, you don’t- you probably have better things to do,” and blushes, tearing his gaze away from the green of Dean’s eyes.
“It’s beautiful, even if I understand jack shit,” Dean smiles and looks thoughtful. He opens his mouth to speak again, but he’s interrupted by a clinking, Zachariah’s annual Christmas speech. It’s usually half an hour long and the contents are all profits and the amazing work management has done during the year. It’s only gloating and bragging in Castiel’s eyes, but damn you if you don’t listen, Zachariah’s hawk-eyes watch over every single one of the employees.
When the speech is over it’s time for mingle, and Castiel gets dragged away by Ash from IT to meet his new ‘padawan’, as he puts it, Kevin Tran, apparently a whizz kid. Poor Kevin seems terrified by Ash and his extravagant ways, but when Castiel gets a moment alone with him he discovers that he’s actually a nice kid, and that he’s really happy about his internship.
He glances around the room half an hour later to find Dean. He spots him in the darkest corner of the room, huddled together with another employee from IT, Charlene, going by the name Charlie, if he remembers correctly, which he probably does. Dean and Charlie seem to be whispering, Charlie pressed up against Dean, whispering in his ear. Castiel sees Dean laughing, and he feels something turn in his stomach. Is this what people call jealousy?
Castiel moves to leave, he has long since fulfilled his duty, and now nothing is holding him here. He’s going to go home, relax, and have a quiet Christmas alone with his cat, Balthazar, just like last year. No fuss, no mess, no complicated relations. He reaches the door to the hallway, and feels a hand on his shoulder pulling him back.
“Are you leaving, Cas?” he hears a voice ask, and he turns, colliding with Dean, who grabs hold of his arms to prevent him from falling. They’re almost nose to nose and Castiel nods.
“Yes, I didn’t feel- I mean, there’s nothing here- I should-“ he begins before he gets interrupted by Dean’s lips on his, soft and warm, tasting like pudding, beer and Dean. It’s over before it’s even begun, just a quick press of lips against lips, but it has him breathing heavily when they part.
“It’s another party trick,” Dean says and points over their heads, a green mistletoe hanging in the doorway. Castiel was sure that hadn’t been there when he came. He looks at Dean suspiciously, still incredibly close, but he can’t find it in him to be the first one to move away.
“Is it for me?” he asks quietly, nodding up towards the mistletoe, “I don’t think it was there earlier,” Castiel muses. Dean blushes and leans forward to whisper in his ear.
“Yeah, I, um, couldn’t let you leave without- uh yeah, so I called in a favor from Charlie,” Dean whispers, breath hot on Castiel’s ear.
“Why? Why couldn’t you let me leave?” Castiel asks breathlessly, already knowing the answer, or at least hoping that he does. Dean moves one of his hands from where it’d been holding onto Castiel’s shoulder to gently cup his face, thumb stroking along a cheekbone.
“Because,” Dean says and kisses him again, “because I had to,” kiss, “try,” kiss, “this,” kiss.
“Oh,” he breathes and presses a kiss of his own to Dean’s lips, the beer making itself known. He had always been a lightweight.
“Can I give you my number?” Dean mumbles and Castiel nods eagerly, giggling like a schoolgirl.
This is looking out to be a rather wonderful Christmas after all, he thinks as he walks home, Dean’s number waiting in his phone for when he gets home, and perhaps he’ll even learn a party trick or two.