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“So,” Castiel starts, pushing up his glasses and leaning against the circulation desk behind which his best friend and arch-enemy is currently working. “I hear someone’s birthday is coming up.”
“How would you know, hasn’t your calendar been in January for like, four months now?” Meg deadpans.
“And if you try to change it again, I’ll cut your hand off. Buy your own calendar if you so desperately want to know the days. That man is all I have going for me right now, so hands off.”
Meg rolls her eyes for the millionth time since Castiel bought the Fire Department’s Charity Calendar and hung it on the library wall. Upon complaints (Meg’s, mostly), his one concession had been to move it to the relative privacy of his office (perks of the job he didn’t want), where he could ogle hot men in peace.
Okay, one man in particular.
Known by Castiel as Mr. January, the hot blond firefighter with spiked hair, freckles all over his face and beautiful green eyes (Castiel inspected the photography really closely. It was good quality.) has been in display for months now.
It was a discussion they’d had before and it repeats itself every time Meg wants to antagonize him.
“Never mind that it’s a calendar and its function is to tell the days, but surely there are equally good-looking men on the other pages?”
“There aren’t, I checked. I also checked in every other existent calendars, and no, there aren’t. Not on Mr. January’s level of hotness.”
“I mean, if you’re into the beefcake firefighters type…”
“Okay, first of all, he’s more of a hunky lumberjack than a beefcake firefighter in this picture. Second, look at him. He’s everyone’s type. You just have no taste.” Castiel shrugs. “I came here to ask what you wanted for your birthday but see if I care now.”
“I’d like a calendar that didn’t feature semi-naked men smoldering at me while I’m trying to focus on my job!” She says as Castiel is retreating to the quiet of his office.
“That is by far the best part. I’ll be getting you plain, boring socks to match your taste in men.”
Hours later, Castiel can be found testing the strength of his jaw by grinding his teeth against each other in order to keep himself from screaming. (Just outside his office are a bunch of librarians who take their work way too seriously and wouldn’t hesitate in tearing down the door and shushing him with a vengeance.)
When he hears the door being opened without a forewarning knock he knows exactly who it is.
The smell of suffering must have attracted her. She’s like a shark when it comes to pain.
“What do you want, Masters? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“I sensed pain. Needed to check it out, see if it was the fun kind of pain, so I could watch.”
“Do you consider any kind of pain not fun to watch?”
“You’re really as smart as you’re pretty, ain’t you, angel face?” Meg smirks. “You’re right, I don’t. I’d be here whether you’d fallen off the stairs and broken a leg, or gotten off the phone with Dick Roman.” Castiel shudders at the name drop and Meg’s grin only widens. “Which I guess it’s what’s happening here. He asked you out again?”
“Only in the middle of a phone call about the funding of bookmobiles for undeserved communities.”
“How did he even get an in to bring that up?”
“There was no link, he straight up interrupted me every few minutes to ask if I’d changed my mind. You know, like a child.”
“Did you tell him to go fuck himself?”
“And have the library shut off due to bankruptcy? No, I laughed it off and steered the conversation back on topic.”
“Wasn’t he like, super against bookmobiles in the last board meeting? Or against anything that brought the community any good?”
“I might have mentioned to him that I found selfless guys attractive,” Castiel murmurs, finding his keyboard highly interesting, all of a sudden.
“You what, now? Didn’t catch that.”
He sighs. “I told him I found selfless, charitable men, who believed the education of our most vulnerable citizens was worth investing in, attractive.”
“Did it work? I mean, it sounded obvious to me that you were whoring yourself for the sake of poor children having access to books. Didn’t he notice?”
“He either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Point is, bookmobiles are now a thing.” He sighs again and looks at her with a hopeless expression. “But at what cost.”
“At the cost of your pretty butt, apparently.”
“My butt isn’t cute,” he mumbles, frowning.
“It really is, though. All round, and firm, and slappable. Real shame you only have eyes for superstuds in cheap calendars,” she tsk’s, receiving a glare in return. “But seriously, listen, I know Dick’s, well, a fucking prick, pun fully intended, and the extreme opposite of everything you find attractive in the world, but guy’s like, filthy rich. And he actually helps other people? Would it kill you going out with him?”
“Uh, yes?” Castiel rolls his eyes, praying for patience and trying to remind himself that Meg doesn’t have the same hang ups about romance (or basic decency ) that normal people do. “He doesn’t help other people because he cares, but because of tax refunds and looking good on his political campaign, I guess.”
Meg shakes her head disapprovingly. “Clarence, do you know why I always come when you’re suffering?”
“To feed off my pain in order to refill your energy deposits? To amuse yourself? To add to my suffering?”
“Yeah, all of that. But also a little bit because I want to help.” She stands up straight from her position at the door and nods to the main area with her head. “Come. Children’s reading is about to begin.”
Castiel hates his job.
As the director of the Kansas State Library, he has little to no time to indulge in the things he loves about being a librarian, such as interacting with people, finding them books that would change their lives, or attending the children’s storytelling sessions.
But, as the director of the Kansas State Library, Castiel can pretty much do whatever he wants. So he does.
The children’s section of the Kansas State Library – Castiel is proud to admit – is the liveliest and most comfortable part of the entire building, with its colorful walls, chairs and bean bags, and the many educational activities they promote on a daily basis. It’s the one space they don’t strictly enforce the silence rule applied to the rest of the civilized spaces in the library, and Castiel wouldn’t have it any other way.
There’s this constant buzz of excitement and movement and laughter that lifts Castiel’s mood the second he steps his bare foot into the multicolored foam padding mats that cover the floor of the reading sessions. There are pillows and bean bags strewn all over the place, creating the best atmosphere in Castiel’s entire library. Toddlers and preschoolers can be seen running around and tripping and hitting their faces and butts on the matted floor and it’s honestly one of Castiel’s favorite things to watch.
His non-existent womb itches with the need to one day have one of those. Or two. Or twenty. Of course being gay (and completely hopeless in the dating department, truth be told) made it harder for him to have the family he’s always wanted, but it didn’t mean he didn’t stare longingly at those stinky kids being disgustingly cute.
Like the little blond menace currently running towards him while screaming “Mr. Ca-a-a-a-as!” until he crashed against Castiel’s legs, hugging them with all the strength in his six-year-old body. “Missed you so much!”
Now, Castiel isn’t supposed to have favorites, but he does, anyway, and it’s definitely Jack.
Jack is the single most affectionate kid Castiel has ever known. He’s sweet and funny, and kind and friendly with other kids, while still being a stubborn brat who 10/10 times successfully charms his way out of his mischiefs.
“Missed you too, buddy,” Castiel replies honestly. “How was the trip with your dad?”
“It was awesome! ” Jack lets go of Cas’ legs to look at the librarian’s face as he tells the man in excruciating detail the most random parts of his road trip with his dad and uncle on spring break in a car he calls “Baby.”
Castiel laughs nervously at what Jack considers “awesome” (“there was a truck coming towards us in our lane, and then dad went vroom, vroom! and we switched lanes real quickly and then Baby went weeeeeeee and I jumped real high in my seat! And then dad yelled at me for having unbuckled, but that part wasn’t so awesome.”) while he looks around in search of either Charlie or Sam.
“Are you here with your auntie Charlie or your uncle Sam, Jack?”
“Auntie Charlie, but she needed to leave. It was an in…insmurgency.”
“Emergency,” Castiel suggested.
“Esmergency. That. It was important and auntie Charlie needed to be fast . She wanted to take me but I begged her to stay for story time, so she talked to Mrs. Meg and dad is picking me up today!”
“He is?” Castiel asks with a smile to hide his wariness. Jack nods fast and grins. “That’s great buddy,” Castiel says, trying to sound genuine.
Castiel’s never had a good impression of Jack’s dad. Of course Castiel has never even seen the man, but that is precisely one of the reasons why. Castiel gets working two, even three jobs, to make ends meet, and it sometimes involves not seeing much of your children. It sucks, but it doesn’t mean you’re a bad parent.
But it isn’t the first time he hears Jack say his dad is picking him up only to have someone else do it at the last minute. The boy is often inconsolable when it happens.
Castiel knows Jack “doesn’t have a mom”, as the little boy once said. Castiel has no idea what happened to her (and neither has Jack, it seems), and found it wise not to ask about it, but his dad is the only parent Jack has and the little boy idolizes the man. Castiel knows how much Jack suffers when his dad can’t honor his promises, and it also sucks not being able to do anything about it.
He’s also planning on scolding Meg for allowing children to be dropped off here like it’s fucking daycare, but only lightly scolding. He allows it too, in certain circumstances, but he’s usually around to actually watch them, whereas Meg is currently nowhere to be seen.
Every kid’s caretakers are aware they have to watch their kid during storytime. The library can’t be responsible for them since, again, it is not daycare. But it usually takes two volunteers for storytime – one for doing the reading, one to watch the kids and make sure they don’t run off and get themselves injured, as little kids often do. So Castiel sometimes turns a blind eye to the breaking of protocol since he knows very well that this is some parents’ only child-free time to get errands done.
Jack’s uncle usually leaves the boy in order to attend classes, and Castiel can get past that. Jack is great at making friends and entertaining himself in the absence of other people to make friends with and is never much work. Charlie usually works at her computer at a nearby table during storytime and never left Jack alone, so something important must have happened for Charlie to have done that, and even more so for Meg to agree (she isn’t big on children, but then again, it is Jack. Even Meg can reluctantly agree he’s sweet and polite, but to volunteer to watch him it’s a whole new level, even for her.)
“Gather ‘round, little punks. Story time’s about to begin!” His thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice trying to get the children to gather in a circle and be quiet for the reading to begin.
Castiel has tried multiple times to get Claire to not talk like that in front of the parents but the kids loved her for that and no one could miss the affection in her tone, so she hasn’t been fired from her payless job at the library. Yet.
Castiel knows from experience it will take another five or so callouts for her to be able to start, so he helps Jack settle down on his beanbag at the circle and sits on the floor beside him, while he chatters Castiel’s ears off.
“After we saw the dinosaurs movie uncle Sam let me eat at Madonna’s and the toy was a dinosaur!” Castiel has to contain his laughter at Jack’s eating at “Madonna’s” but doesn’t dare correct him.
Castiel looks around the library, watching the families settling in for the reading – some more successfully than others.
There’s little Krissy and her dad, the Banes twins with their mom, Kevin (reading his own book as he waits for the reading to start), his friend Channing (that’s wriggling her hands in her lap as Kevin ignores her) and their moms discussing something serious sounding. Ben is there as well, running with other kids in the middle of the circle as his mother Lisa catches up with the other moms on a table nearby.
In short, it’s mayhem, and Castiel loves it.
Meg is constantly appalled at the kind of behavior Castiel condones when it comes to the kids’ reading and no doubt is hiding somewhere with a door at this point.
But Castiel lives for these moments of kids being kids. Playing, and running and letting their imagination run free. These moments when they finally settle a little and allow themselves to enter whatever fantasy world their volunteer reader will be taking them on that day. The bright eyes, the easy smiles, the laughter and exclamations…
God, Castiel loves his job.
“Meg, why on Earth would you tell Charlie you would watch him and then leave the boy unsupervised?” Castiel asked as he entered his own office (and his friend’s favorite hiding spot from kids.) “You know if something happens to him while he’s in here – and allegedly on your watch – that’s on the library. Or, in other words, that’s on me. ”
“Oh, my God, will you calm down a minute? It’s a library, not Vietnam. He’s safe here, Clarence.” She rolls her eyes and Castiel does the same.
“He can climb one of the shelves and have it fall over him. Someone can run him over with a cart book. He can trip and hit his head. You don’t need to be in a warzone to be in danger.”
“And what are the odds of this ever happening?”
“What with him being a six-year-old, I’d say very high,” Castiel deadpans. “Besides, you know who’s supposedly picking him up today?”
There’s a silence as Meg stares with her mouth open. “No.”
“Yes. And you’ll be the one waiting for him to show up. I’ll be out of here by five.”
“Please, don’t do this to me, I’ve had this reservation for months now.”
“Then let’s hope his dad actually shows up then. I’d add on time to that sentence but him showing up would be a feature in itself, let’s not ask for too much.”
“Castiel!” Meg calls out to him but Cas is already out the door, going to the corner of the library where Jack is reading a pop-up book at a table with his friends and some of their parents.
“Should we try to find his uncle’s info on the system?” Meg asks Castiel as five o’clock nears and Mr. Winchester is nowhere to be seen.
“That’s not ideal,” Cas comments. “But I guess neither is having a child in our custody after closing time. Go ahead.”
As Meg goes in search of Sam’s phone number through illegal means Castiel feels a light tug on his pants. Looking down, he’s met with pleading brown eyes and an adorable little pout.
“Mr. Cas, I’m hungry,” Jack says and Castiel mentally goes through a list of every snack he has in his drawer, before realizing something bad.
“Hm, do you know if you have any allergies?”
“What’s allergies ?”
“Food you cannot eat because it makes you sick.”
Jack ooooooh’ s and stops for a moment to consider. “I do. Broccoli.”
Despite the direness of the situation, Castiel has to fight a smile. “That so? What about chocolate cake?”
“No allergies!”
Castiel definitely laughs at that. “Then come. There was a birthday party here today and I haven’t eaten the cake yet.”
Jack holds Castiel’s hand as they walk to the librarian’s office, chatting happily all the way. “You sang happy birthday?”
“I didn’t, because I was busy at the time, but they saved me a piece of cake.”
“Can we sing happy birthday?” The boy asks but the second he enters the office he forgets all about it.
Jack spots Castiel’s swiveling chair and runs to climb it, using the desk to spin himself until he’s complaining he’s dizzy, all the while giggling like a maniac.
Crossing his fingers and hoping that the ants didn’t get to it first, Castiel opens his drawer and retrieves the disposable plate with the cake. He puts an end to Jack’s swirling before the boy pukes, and places the cake in front of him.
The boy takes a bite and hums. “It doesn’t make me sick. Definitely don’t have this allergies.”
Thank fuck, Castiel thinks, ridding his desk of any important documents since Jack is one messy eater.
Once he’s done, Jack politely pushes the plate away and looks up to Cas. “Thank you, Mr. Cas, it was delicious!”
“You’re welcome, Jack. Now let’s go back to see if your dad has arrived.” Cas holds the chair in place so Jack can safely get down when the boy stops all of a sudden.
“Oh, that’s my dad,” Jack says, surprised, and Castiel turns to the door expecting to find someone there. There isn’t, though, so Castiel follows Jack’s gaze and realizes, in horror, where it’s landed.
Castiel pales.
“Why do you have a picture of my dad in your office, Mr. Cas?” Jack asks, turning to him with a curious expression.
“Mr. January is your dad?” Castiel asks, fearing the answer.
Jack looks pensively at Castiel’s shameful, unfit-for-six-year-olds’-innocent eyes-calendar.
“People usually call him Dean, though.”
“And you’re sure of that? You’re not confusing him with anyone?”
“Don’t be silly, Mr. Cas. That’s dad!” Jack smiles, as if seeing a picture of his semi-naked dad in a stranger’s office wasn’t scarring him for life. “Do you love him?”
Castiel chokes on his own spit. After a lot of coughing, he manages to choke out a “What?”
“Uncle Sam has a picture of auntie Jess in his bedroom because he loves her, and auntie Jess has pictures of all of us in her house because she loves us, and dad has pictures of grandma in our house because he loves her…” Jack explains, all logical and serious sounding. “Do you love my daddy, Mr. Cas?”
“Jack, I– I don’t even know your dad.”
Jack squints at the calendar, then at Castiel. “Then why is his picture on your wall?”
Because Goethe says a man should see a fine picture every day of his life in order that worldly cares do not obliterate the sense of beauty God has implanted in the human soul and your dad is smoking hot and I deserve nice things sometimes, Cas thinks.
“Uh–” Castiel starts, not really knowing where he’s going.
“Well, you can know him in a second. He said he’d pick me up today. But I don’t know, though. He’s not very good at keeping promises. Uncle Sam says my grandpa was just the same. Dad was hurt when he said that, but I don’t know if he’ll aaaaaactually come today.” Jack shrugs.
Okay, that’s a lot to unpack right there, but Castiel chooses to focus on the least harmful (at least for himself.)
“I’m sure he’s just working a lot to make sure you get everything you need, baby,” Castiel says, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Wanna hang out with me until he comes?”
Jack nods brilliantly, the small pout that was just forming completely gone.
To both Castiel’s relief, Jack’s disappointment and everyone’s unsurprise, it isn’t Dean Winchester who picks up Jack half an hour later, but his uncle, Sam.
The other man apologizes profusely and thanks Castiel for taking care of Jack when he didn’t have to.
Jack tries not to look so upset as to not hurt his uncle, but everyone can tell how bad he’s hurting. Cas gives him a hug before the leave and tells the boy to cheer up.
It seems to work, at least some, because just as Jack is leaving (the scene of such a tiny being holding hands with his ginormous uncle possibly the cutest thing Castiel will see today) he sees the boy tug at his uncle’s hand and asking him, “Do you know Mr. Cas has a picture of dad in his office?”
Castiel groans.
For over a week, Castiel manages to avoid Jack’s father, who went from never showing up to showing up every day, according to Meg’s reports.
However, it all seems to be ending now, Castiel thinks as he sees the man in question approaching the circulation desk, hand in hand with Castiel’s favorite child.
“Mr. Cas!” Jack squeals and runs under the table to get to Castiel.
“Hey, Jack.” Castiel hugs him back with the same warmth and resolutely doesn’t look up to the older and much more handsome version of Jack looking at them with a smile on his sinful lips.
“Mr. Cas, look who’s here!” Jack tugs at Cas’ hands and the black-haired man is finally forced to look into astounding green eyes, much greener than the print was able to capture, on a handsome and woefully familiar freckled face. “Dad!”
“Hello, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel greets the man, extending his miraculously steady hand to shake his in a display of calm the librarian doesn’t really feel.
“Hey, man. Dean. Nice to meet you.” Dean shakes Castiel’s hand and holds it for a second too long, making Castiel blush.
All things considered, though, Castiel isn’t as star-struck as he believed he would be if he met Mr. January in person.
Sure, the man was hot as all hell, and unbelievably more handsome in person, and also raised an amazing little boy whom Castiel would lay down his life for, but Castiel hasn’t forgotten all the times Dean broke his promises to Jack, even if the boy in question did.
“So, reading is about to start,” Castiel announced to the Winchesters. “Should we get you both settled?”
“Uh, I’ll just find some place to make a phone call. You go ahead, buddy,” Dean tells Jack, who just nods and looks up at Castiel, expectantly.
Castiel nods back and settles down with him on one of the bean bags on the circle, as he listens to Jack’s retell of all his antics he got up to in that week at kindergarten.
When Kaia announces they are about to begin, Jack settles more comfortably against Castiel’s side.
The librarian’s arm goes automatically around Jack, making the boy all but nuzzle into Cas’ side.
Castiel swears his heart just grew three sizes at that.
“Missed you, Mr. Cas,” Jack says, making Castiel feel like an asshole for having been avoiding the boy’s dad, and the boy himself as a consequence.
“It’s only been a week,” Castiel protests weakly, poking the boy in the ribs and making him laugh.
“But no one does the voices like you do!”
“Oh, kiddo,” Cas ruffles Jack’s hair. “Missed you too. Miss Megs says that your dad has been coming with you every day. How’s that been?”
“Awesome!” Jack sits up abruptly and nearly knocks Cas’ chin with his head. “He makes me breakfast, and takes me to school, and to the park, and we watch movies!”
“Sounds like a lot of fun,” Cas says with a genuine grin.
“But dad’s sad, I can tell. I think it’s because of uncle Benny,” Jack says with a small sigh.
“What happened to your uncle Benny?” Castiel asks.
“He’s sick. Dad explained to me. He’s still at the doctors.”
Castiel presumes the man is still at the hospital, and is suddenly glad that he didn’t accuse Dean of bad parenting.
Kaia takes her time shushing the room yet again and starts the book. Castiel and Jack settle against each other to enjoy it, as Dean watches the scene from the back of the room with a fond smile on his face.
As Jack plays with his friends after reading time is over, none other than Mr. January himself approaches Castiel
“Hey, Cas,” Dean says and Castiel shudders, at hearing his name being spoken in that velvety raspy voice.
“Dean,” he breathes, tying to keep the composure.
“I, uh, I just wanted to thank you for the amazing job you guys are doing here. It’s an amazing environment and the kids really have fun while learning. It’s actually Jack’s favorite place, you knew that? We don’t even live that close and he begs to come here every day,” Dean huffs, scratching the back of his neck.
Castiel looks at where Jack is coloring a book with Ben and can’t help but smile at that. “It makes me happy to hear it. The plan was to have a space in the neighborhood so kids of every background could come and make friends, play and exercise their creativity. That Jack wants to spend so much time in here means we’re doing something right.”
Dean’s gaze lands on Jack and Castiel doesn’t miss the adoring way he looks at his son. “He’s so happy in here. I feared him not having a mother would mess him up, but–” Dean licks his lips and despite the seriousness of the conversation, Castiel can’t help but follow the movement with his eyes. “This place does him good.”
God, that picture on the calendar didn’t really do Dean Winchester justice.
“Anyway,” Dean continued. “I just came here to thank you. Lately you’ve been more present in Jack’s life than I have and he really likes you. It’s all ‘Mr. Cas this’ and ‘Mr. Cas that’. Had to step up my game before he asked you to adopt him, the Matilda way.” Castiel laughed at that. “Also, to apologize for the day Charlie dropped him here and I couldn’t pick him up. I hope that I didn’t get you into trouble, but I appreciated it all the same.”
Castiel smiles. “It didn’t get me in trouble. I’m the director around here, so I got someone else in trouble.” It’s Dean’s turn to laugh and Castiel’s own smile blooms at the sound. “He’s a sweet kid, everyone here adores him. Is he this polite and easygoing at home, as well?”
Dean’s laugh is loud enough for people to turn their heads at him. “Hell, no. The little dude has opinions on everything and fights me every step of the way. He’s not disrespectful, per se, but he questions everything and is incredibly insistent and annoying. He’s luck that he’s really cute. That gets him out of trouble every time.”
“Oh, that he is. I can’t imagine how anyone could manage to stay mad at him. I mean, look at that.” Castiel points to the table where Jack is explaining to Alicia and Max one of their board games very seriously.
Dean laughs and Castiel feels the sudden need to keep hearing that for many years to come.
Castiel isn’t expecting to see any of the Winchesters the following day, since there are no readings on Thursday and he’s pretty sure Jack has soccer or something (not that he memorizes his kids' schedules. Pff.) And yet, there Dean is, crossing the library towards Castiel with no Jack in sight.
The librarian’s heart starts to race in his chest and Castiel feels his face burning. “Hello, Dean,” he says when the man is close enough for them to communicate without yelling. “Where’s Jack?”
“I just dropped him off at soccer practice.”
“Ah,” Castiel nods.
“Busy day?”
Cas shakes his head. “Surprisingly, no. I was just on my way to grab a coffee and sit down to read for a few minutes before another fire comes up and I have to put it out.”
“Oh, no need to worry about putting out fires, that would be my job,” Dean jokes and Castiel reddens, as he does when he remembers (not that he can ever forget) what Dean does for a living. “In any case, allow me to take you to coffee, then. You know. To thank you for taking care of Jack that day.”
Did Castiel just die or is Dean Winchester really asking him out on a date?
“T-there’s no need, I–”
“I insist.”
“It’s the middle of the work day, and–”
Castiel is interrupted by the sound of the doors opening once again, this time to let someone much more unpleasant in.
“Castiel!” Dick Roman’s voice booms through the precariously cultivated silence of the library, making Castiel violently shush him in pure automatic librarian reflex.
Dean looks at Castiel with a glint in his eyes and an indecipherable look in his face that closely resembles lust. Castiel shakes his head at the absurd notion and turns his attention back to the asshole that’s walking in as if he owned the place (which some would say he does, considering how much he donates to the library, but it will be a cold day in hell when Castiel admits that.)
The librarian tries to mentally conjure Meg to appear by his side and act unpleasantly (in other words, act like herself) until Dick leaves, but his psychic powers are low today.
Dick approaches the desk and turns fully towards Castiel, completely ignoring Dean. “I came here to pick you up. My driver is waiting outside.”
Castiel’s eyebrows shoot up and he turns away from Dean in order to try and clarify what the everloving fuck is going on.
“Uh, did we have a meeting scheduled? I don’t think I wrote it down…”
“We didn’t,” Roman replied. “I just thought I could drop by and invite you to discuss your… what was it again? Book vehicles? – over coffee.
“Oh, Mr. Roman, that is unfortunate,” Castiel sighs, trying to look apologetic and sincere and probably failing. “I’m leaving now to discuss some matters with Mr. Winchester here, and I’m not sure when we’ll be back. Please try to set up another date with Meg for us to better discuss the bookmobiles.” Preferentially over the phone, or better yet, via email, he mentally added with a forced smile.
“Now,” Castiel says, turning to face Dean, smile becoming more and more genuine. “Shall we, Mr. Winchester?”
Without hesitation, Dean offers his arm. Without hesitation, Castiel takes it and leads them to the cute coffee shop just around the corner, leaving behind an equal parts baffled and offended Dick Roman.
The coffee shop isn’t crowded when Castiel and Dean arrive, so pretty much as soon as they place their orders at the counter they hear their names being called.
They sit on a booth at the corner that’s cozy and private and they make the whole awkward first date small talk, except that for some reason it isn’t awkward at all.
They talk about their jobs and when Dean says he’s a firefighter, Castiel tries and fails to act surprised at the information.
“You knew that?”
“I remember Jack mentioning very loudly his dad rode in a firefuck ,” Castiel says with a serious expression. “There was also something about you sliding down a pole.”
It has the intended effect of making Dean laugh out loud and Castiel feels proud of himself for accomplishing that.
“Why did you assume I was a firefighter?” Dean asks in between fits of laughter. “I could totally rock that pole if I decided to be a stripper!”
“I don’t doubt it,” Castiel says, the memory of Dean’s well-defined abs ingrained into his mind from so much looking at them for hours on end over the course of months.
Dean flusters and Castiel feels proud of himself for that as well.
Castiel tells Dean about the joys of being a librarian, and the woes of being the director of a library.
“It’s the kind of place I wish I’d known while growing up,” Dean comments. "I mean, Sammy would have loved it, the nerd. He would probably be more of a pain in the ass about going every single day than Jack is, believe me,” Dean snorted.
“Would ‘Sammy’ by any chance be your 6’4’’ brother?”
“Yep, that’s him. Samantha, if you will.”
“I think I don’t wanna be on his bad side, but thank you.”
They talk some more about their families and Castiel finally finds out what happened to Jack’s mother.
“I begged her to keep him, and she was nice enough to do it, but she had a life, you know? Secretary of some big shot in the congress, lots of things ahead of her… Considering how few dates we’d been to, I’m just thankful she even let me know about him. Things between us were obviously ruined after that, since I always meant to raise him and she never even meant to keep him, but I can’t find it in myself to resent her, not even when Jack asks why he has no mom.”
“You can tell Jack she is a fairy godmother who appears randomly and gives people gifts, and that he was her gift to you. He loves this sort of thing,” Castiel says and Dean smiles in agreement.
“He does love his mystical beings. Which, man, you gotta tell me how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“The voice.” Castiel frowns. “The King of the Forest voice! He’s obsessed with these russian fairy tales since you read one of them a while ago–”
“Oh, I remember it!”
“And he asks for one every night. Except that when I read it to him he’s all like ‘ Mr. Cas’ voice for the King of the Forest isn’t like that, dad! ’ and it’s super annoying.”
Castiel laughs at that. “I bet you are making a deep, scary voice, right?”
“Obviously,” Dean snorts.
“Have you ever heard Schubert’s Der Erlkönig?”
“No? That german?”
“That german,” Castiel agrees. “It’s the Elfking voice you have to make, it’s floaty, and whispery and melodious, not at all like the father’s. I’ll show you later.”
“God,” Dean exhales. “How are you so good at that?”
Castiel takes a deep breath, wondering how he could answer that without having to explain his entire life philosophy so soon into knowing Dean.
He couldn’t.
“So,” Castiel starts. “You know how kids are becoming pessimists, and cranky, and ill-tempered and so impossibly cynical so soon into their lives?” Dean nods, even though that’s definitely not his experience with Jack and he probably has no idea where Castiel is going with this. “For me, that’s the biggest sign of how messed up a society is.” Castiel fiddles with his empty cup before looking up at Dean again. “Childhood shouldn’t just be protected because it lays the ground for all future development, in terms of health, behavior, learning, productivity, etcetera.” Castiel rolls his eyes at the superficial points he often has to make to convince people to donate to their projects at the library. “Children must have access to health services, and food, housing and education, obviously, but it must go beyond that.”
“Childhood is the time to develop imagination, and creativity, the time to play and build relationships and learn how to respect differences, the time to just be happy . It’s a precious period in our lives, that must be protected at all costs, not shortened by worries, or excessive exposition to screens, or by the need adults feel for their kids to be quiet, mature, and completely well-behaved.”
“And I believe,” Castiel continues. “That fairytales are one way to keep our children being children for a while longer. They speak of an inner reality most adults lost the ability to access a long time ago. Their messages aren’t always as clear-cut as we think, and they don’t necessarily contain a moral lesson we can intellectually understand. But there are symbols in them that even though we can’t rationalize, we can feel it and conceive on a deeper level. It’s a language we comprehend, even though we don’t always understand. I believe that if we raise children with books and love and support, they’ll grow up to be happier, more empathetic, caring, generous, respectful and overall better individuals. I believe this is what makes a difference in society.” Castiel shrugs, as if he didn’t lay down the meaning of his entire life for Dean to judge.
Dean is silent for a long time, staring at Castiel with a strange look that makes the librarian want to fidget. After a while, Dean shakes his head, smiling.
“What?” Castiel asks, almost defensively.
“I’m just glad someone here knows what they’re doing in the upbringing of my kid.”
Castiel frowns at that. “I’m hardly the one to blame if Jack is the single most polite, affectionate, sweetest and curious child I’ve ever met. That’s all you, bud. You might not have a plan, but you’re doing great.”
Dean beams like parents do when they find out their kid is appreciated by people other than themselves. “He’s really great, but I promise you that’s all him. Not having the first clue of how to raise a kid was the reason I didn’t want kids in the first place.”
Castiel gapes at that. “You haven’t always wanted children?”
“Me, a high school dropout with a GED and with six bucks to his name, a father? Hell, no! Cas, I barely even had a father to know what one was supposed to be like. I would never have chosen to have kids, if it was up to me. And then it was happening, and suddenly the idea of not being a father to that bump became a devastating idea.”
“I was still scared out of my ass that I’d turn out like my dad, but I can’t explain to you how I felt when Kelly told me she wouldn’t be keeping it.”
Castiel leans on the table to get closer to Dean. “I hear that when you become a parent you find yourself able to tap into a seemingly endless source of strength.” Castiel didn’t miss the slight nod Dean gave. “But I think you already knew that. That when you love someone, when you truly love someone, you are able to overcome stuff you haven’t thought possible before.”
Castiel remembers being 20 years old and meeting a practically orphaned and homeless 14 year old Claire at the library he now works at. Castiel gave himself the mission not only to feed her to the best of his abilities, but to also give her hope, and help her become the strong, intelligent and caring girl hidden beneath the thick shell of sarcasm and pessimism she used to protect herself.
For many years, the thing that kept him through school and two jobs, as well as volunteering, was Claire.
Because he wanted the best for her and children in situations similar to hers, he kept working when he thought he could no longer keep standing. Had he been doing it all for himself, he just wouldn’t have bothered.
He isn't Claire’s parent, but he sure loves her like one.
And Dean isn't his brother’s parent, but Castiel has the suspicion that much of Sam’s upstanding upbringing is due to Dean’s efforts as well, based on how he talks about his brother, and how the brothers regard their father.
“You are… awfully good at reading people,” Dean says.
“Or maybe your child is very communicative and I pay attention to things.” Castiel shrugs. And indeed, Jack has given many clues about his family life, such as his grandma being an angel and having gone to Heaven when daddy was small like him.
(That came accompanied with the uncomfortable question of “Do you think my mommy went to Heaven too, Mr. Cas?” and it was a tough one to dodge.)
Dean then does something very scary. He leans back on his chair and smirks at Castiel, arms crossed in his chest, and says, “He is very communicative, indeed. And I sometimes pay attention.”
Oh, no.
The Calendar. How could Castiel have forgotten Dean most likely knew about Castiel’s dirty secret that wasn’t even a secret until he realized Mr. January was an actual three dimensional being?
“Anwyay, I think we should go, it’s super late, nearly closing time at the library and I–”
Dean laughs, interrupting him. “Okay, Cas. I’ll walk with you.”
Castiel could groan in frustration, but he’s too elated for that.
They are walking back to the library and Castiel is feeling a pleasant buzz, as if it had been alcohol instead of coffee he's just drunk. He has no doubt Dean is the one to blame.
There’s a comfortable stretch of silence between them, broken only by Dean clearing his throat before speaking. “So. About that picture of me on your wall…”
“There’s no such thing,” Castiel cuts him off, too quickly to have been true.
“Jack said–”
“Dean, Dean, Dean. You know how impressionable young children are. Sometimes their minds play tricks on them. He must have been missing you a lot, that’s all.”
Dean hums, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Maybe I should take him to a neurologist, to take a look at these hallucinations he’s been having.”
“Uhum, perhaps you should,” Castiel says, throwing a six year old under the metaphorical bus in order to keep his dignity.
They arrive at the library and Dick Roman is thankfully nowhere to be seen. Dean still has a few minutes before he has to pick Jack up, so Cas watches him non-too-subtly peek inside his office, likely looking for the Calendar their little blond snitch mentioned.
As if Castiel hadn’t removed it the second he realized the potential trauma for the kid (and for Castiel himself, if Dean ever saw that.)
“Looking for something?” Castiel asks innocently.
“Yeah, just wondering what day it was,” Dean replies. “And what would be the next best day to take you to dinner.”
What a jerk. Castiel can feel himself falling already.
Two months later, Dean can be found at the library again, this time waiting for Castiel to leave his office so they can have dinner at the restaurant Benny’s working at. After the accident a couple of months prior that forced him to quit his job at the station, the Cajun was now working with his wife at her family’s restaurant and Dean had been threatened to bring his new beau, or else.
Since Castiel is taking forever to leave, Dean enters his boyfriend’s office and sits on his chair, swirling away to pass the time.
“You really are Jack’s sire,” Cas says, struggling with his cufflinks. “He was twirling in this very same chair not many hours ago.”
“What else is there to do when your boyfriend is a fucking princess?”
Castiel stops the swirling abruptly with a knee on the chair between Dean’s legs, inches away from his crotch. He then leans in and whispers against the blond’s lips, “And you love fucking this princess. Now, since you didn’t even let me go home to try and make me look presentable, you wait here while I go to the bathroom and do one last thing before we go.”
Dean is left alone in Castiel’s office, mouth agape, while Castiel leaves to do something Dean strongly suspects is related to their after dinner plans. The firefighter gulps, imagining what’s happening behind that bathroom door.
Shaking his head to get a grip of himself, he resumes his swirling, using the desk as a propulsor. Not a second later he’s hissing in pain when his leg hits a drawer stuck partly open. He pushes it again, only to realize there’s something preventing it from closing.
Dean opens the drawer to try to unjam it and can’t help the grin that slowly forms when he finds what is keeping it from closing.
Oh, he won’t let Castiel live that down.
“So you must be Castiel,” the man that just greeted Dean in a bone crushing hug turns to Castiel and speaks in a heavy Cajun accent. “I heard that Dean had been having fun while I was unconscious and I felt betrayed, but it all makes sense now.”
“Benny, please, refrain from flirting with my boyfriend or I’ll put you back to sleep.”
“That’s way too soon to be making jokes about my near death experiences, brother,” Benny says, faking seriousness.
“You just did!”
“But I can, it was my near death experience.”
Dean rolls his eyes at that but Castiel just grins harder. “Nice to meet you, Benny. Heard great things about you.”
“Yeah,” Dean cuts before he can reply. “Because I thought you were gonna die and I didn’t want to offend your memory by telling the truth! But now that you’re once again alive, Cas, let me be honest – he’s a real jerk,” the blond says with fondness.
“Only the good die young, brother,” Benny says and leads them to their table to eat what’s easily one of the best meals Castiel's ever had.
And that’s not even counting their plans for dessert, which includes Castiel and the plug he’s wearing.
“Dean,” Castiel calls his boyfriend through gritted teeth with an awkward smile frozen on his face. “I cannot stress enough how stupid I feel doing these poses.”
“Same here, buddy,” Dean says through a much more natural and handsome looking – although just as fabricated – smile.
Castiel then looks down at their six year old, doing the same pose as they are, but genuinely smiling and having the time of his life. “At least someone is having fun,” he mumbles only to Dean’s ears as the photographer asks them to pose in an even weirder position.
The boy just loves to have his picture taken – both Castiel and Dean’s phone are filled with selfies he takes when he gets his sticky hands on their phones. Jack has already made friends with the photographer, following his every instruction on how to pose, despite of how ridiculous they are.
Towards the end of the photoshoot, the photographer guides them through the more romantic pictures, like Dean and Cas kissing, and every pinterest couple pose he could think of. Jack doesn’t care for being left out of the pic, so the next one they sandwich-kiss Jack, which results in the absolute best picture of the entire session.
A couple of weeks later, on Christmas morning, Castiel receives from Jack a new calendar to hang on his office – a much more safe for work one – with pictures of him, Dean and Jack at the photoshoot.
From Dean, he receives a red velvet box with a ring inside.