Chapter Text
Across the crowded dance floor, he’s a vision of golden-brown hair, tan skin, and blinding smiles, all wrapped up in a black suit with pants that have no right to hug his ass so snugly.
Castiel first spotted him across the aisle earlier that afternoon, and from the moment his eyes found the man, he was lost. Now that he’s remembering the skip of want his heart made, it occurs to him how fortunate it is that he didn’t have any part to play in the wedding. He can’t stop his wince as he imagines himself stumbling and fumbling along, embarrassing himself and ruining the service and reception. The mental picture suddenly seems so real and mortifying that he has to fist his hands and remind himself Becky married the nervous Chuck without a hitch, so to speak.
Castiel had watched the man from then on, watched as he walked up the aisle, spoke a few words to fewer people, and walked outside. Castiel had sighed, ships-in-the-night, but thankfully his concern proves unjustified when the man turns up at the wedding party down the street an hour later. The reception is being held in the huge backyard of Becky’s parents’ estate, and the giant tent set up with dance floor and fairy lights feels dreary and boring to Castiel until the man swaggers in and strides by. When he comes into Castiel’s sights again, everything feels brighter and more alive, and to Castiel’s dismay, his heart begins to race with anxiety.
Or maybe it’s excitement? It’s been so long since Castiel met someone he’s attracted to that he wouldn’t be surprised if he has forgotten what it feels like. “Met” isn’t even the correct word, either; it’s not like he has actually spoken to the man, or that he even knows Castiel exists and is watching him from afar.
Castiel briefly considers asking the happy bride who the beautiful man is, but immediately squashes the thought. Years of working alongside Becky have established her as the least subtle person he knows, and given how desperate she’s been to set him up with someone, he’s sure her exuberance will find a way to embarrass him.
He watches as the man leads a woman onto the dance floor. She’s not his date, Castiel is fairly certain, because he left the church alone and arrived alone at the reception. The man gyrates his hips to the beat of the song, and laughs when his dance partner blushes and pushes him away. He’s a good dancer, and Castiel smiles, charmed by the way the light catches the mischief in the man’s eyes.
Castiel has to find a way to talk to him. But small talk is the work of the devil, as far as he’s concerned. He’s never been able to understand how others can do it so effortlessly. And introductions…well, there are several reasons why Castiel has so few people in his life, and that’s one of them.
So he continues to watch the man from a distance throughout the night. He watches as the man jovially talks to so many of the guests, watches as he dances with several other women (but never a slow dance, Castiel notices), watches as he sits at his table and eats his filet mignon (Castiel is pleased to note they chose the same meal, which of course means they are meant for each other), while chatting happily with his table mates. Castiel watches him as the wedding guests begin to leave, one by one; and as he becomes aware of the exodus, his heart constricts tighter and tighter with the worry that the man will leave without ever knowing Castiel exists.
Castiel’s growing panic crests into a weak bravado as he makes a decision, and he helps the timid bravado grow some muscle by impulsively swallowing the dregs from every champagne flute abandoned at his empty table before the waiters can grab them for themselves under the pretense of cleaning up. Once he can feel the alcohol start to fuzzy things up, he grabs a napkin and pulls out a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket.
Five minutes later, he walks himself over to the man’s table, legs shaky and heart stuck in his throat. He stands next to the man’s chair for a moment, working up the courage to say something to grab his attention. When the man suddenly looks up at him, Castiel feels a stir of panic and a desire to flee, but he digs his heels in and forces himself to open his mouth.
“What’s your name?” he asks awkwardly, wanting for all the world to melt into the floor and never be seen again.
The man’s brow furrows, and he opens and closes his mouth once before replying. “Dean,” he says, voice deep and gruff. Castiel likes that voice a lot. “What’s yours?” the man, Dean, asks before Castiel can say anything else.
“Castiel,” he answers, and, emboldened by the fact his voice hasn’t stuttered once, and by the look of interest on Dean’s face, he continues. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve noticed you all night. I wanted to leave this with you before I left.”
Castiel hands Dean the napkin on which he wrote his phone number, and quickly walks out without looking back.
Once outside and clear of any onlookers, he promptly vomits in the bushes of the nearby garden, as the champagne and nerves decide they don’t play well together.
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The following morning, Castiel wakes groggy but thankfully not hungover. He waits to check his phone until after he’s showered and had coffee, and splurged on a bagel. He’s convinced himself that if Dean does text him, he definitely won’t do it so soon after last night. Even though Castiel tends to ignore or be oblivious to dating codes in his own behavior, he is at least aware of what the rest of dating culture tends to do, and he knows it’s considered desperate to call or text so soon after meeting.
Which is why he’s surprised to find a new text message from an unknown number waiting for him when he finally checks his phone. His excitement over finding it is soon replaced with disappointment as he reads:
Hey, this is Dean from the wedding. I just wanted to let you know that I actually have a girlfriend, but I thought it was really brave what you did, coming up to me like that. Keep it up!
Castiel hides his face in his hands for a moment. He’s embarrassed, but at the same time he’s grateful that the man, Dean, is being so gracious about it. He didn’t have to text Castiel at all, yet he took the time to inform him of his situation but still compliment him. Castiel considers whether he should reply or what he should say, until he finally comes up with a response:
Hello, Dean. I appreciate you responding. It took me a very long time to work up the courage to approach you. Given my awkwardness, I was certain I wouldn’t hear from you again, so thank you again. Your girlfriend is a very lucky woman.
Castiel hits send on his phone, and sets it back down on the desk. He stares out the window for a few seconds, trying his best to not feel the sting of disappointment. He should have known better than to get his hopes up or to get attached to some random stranger, but watching the man all night, he couldn’t help but feel a pull towards him. There had been something about him that just felt so familiar and right—but it isn’t meant to be, no matter how it felt last night. It was probably just the setting that made him feel so…attached. Leave it to a wedding to make people want to find love in unlikely places.
Castiel shakes his head and attempts to pull himself out of his fruitless gloom, but as he stands up from his desk, his phone pings again with another text message. Surprised, Castiel opens it to find:
Thanks! And do keep it up—it’s so much better to live your life without the regrets of not doing those types of things even if they’re scary at the time. I wish you the best and know you’ll find someone soon. Have a great week! :)
Castiel stares at the screen, a smile finding its way across his face. He hadn’t been expecting Dean to reply again, and especially not with such nice words.
Thank you, you too :), he texts back, and suddenly he doesn’t feel so embarrassed anymore. He feels proud of himself for taking that chance. Because Dean is right: life is too short for being too scared to take risks like that. And even though he’ll never see Dean again, at least he knows that the other man is out there, living his life and being a good person. If there’s one of him out there, surely there will be another like him…one that might like Castiel this time, right?
He goes to take a shower, and drags his mind away from the man from the party, forcing himself to think about all the chores he needs to get done that day. Soon, he gets swept up in his activities, and he doesn’t give Dean much thought at all for quite a while.
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