Work Text:
Dean's life went into a tailspin on November fifth: the day he got a notice he would have to share his cubicle with a new employee. Granted, the cubicle had two sides, and sharing the space wouldn't be a physical problem, but that wasn't the point. Dean had been here for five years and was used to being alone and conducting his work peacefully and in his own space.
The new employee was expected to arrive before lunch, and he would only have half a day to figure things out before a full day following. That gave Dean about two and a half hours to prepare himself, but he didn't know that nothing could prepare him at all for what was about to come.
—
“Dean Winchester, meet your cubicle partner, Castiel Novak,” Charlie, also known as the best person in the Human Resources department, introduced them to each other. Dean heard her, but he waited for a second before turning around in his spinny office chair (the best one in the office, a birthday gift from his brother), gathered his bearings, turned around, and immediately lost them all.
“Hello! I – I – um………….uhhhhhhhhh.”
Castiel was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life, and every ounce of suaveness and charm disappeared from his being, and he was reduced to uttering gibberish, blushing endlessly and being so, so sweaty. When was the last time he got sweaty over someone? Highschool? And that was a hard maybe.
“Hello, Dean. It's a pleasure to meet you,” Castiel extended his hand, a small and kind smile spreading on his lips that made Dean want to melt into the floor. He hoped Castiel would smirk at him and be amused by his blundering, then he could hate him a little, but no, Castiel was smiling softly. Dean couldn't hate that. He took the hand, knowing this handshake would be awkward because his hands were so clammy. After all, there was a Greek god in a trench coat standing in front of him, but alas, he shook Castiel's hand and smiled back at him, looking right into those sky-blue eyes and feeling weak in the knees despite sitting.
The sound of Charlie clearing her throat brought Dean back to reality, “I’ll let you two get acquainted,” she paused, a smirk crossing her lips. “Do let me know if you have concerns about this….. or anything else.”
That last part was said as she walked away, and Dean knew that she knew that Dean had it bad for this man that he had just met, but, really, who could blame him?
Their hands departed and Castiel went and sat down at his side of the cubicle. “I guess I'll….. get started,” he mumbled to himself. Dean spun around to his own station, staring at a screen that he suddenly did not know what to do with. He was too distracted by the noises behind him to concentrate. That beautiful man sitting three feet away was rooting around in his briefcase, and Dean was amazed that he could make flipping through paper sound hot. He shook his head. He needed to get back to work.
—
About twenty minutes later, Castiel was settled in and looking at the beginnings of what he had to do. Dean was finishing what he was in the middle of when Castiel arrived, but now, he was faced with a question.
“What do you do?”
Truthfully, Dean created website banner advertisements and unskippable YouTube ads for the company, but he didn't want to get into the details at the moment. “I’m in advertising,” he stated nonchalantly. “I make truck ads set to indie rock songs.”
“Oh,” Castiel's chuckle was music to Dean's ears. “So I get to blame you for ruining my favorite underground artists.”
Dean began to laugh under his breath, finding himself starting on a new ad and making progress surprisingly quickly.
“I’m worried about your music taste if you think Imagine Dragons is underground,” he quipped.
“Well, they're underground now; they've been beaten into it,” Castiel joked back, thoroughly enjoying this banter between them. Being hired at this branch upon moving to Kansas was a little daunting for him, but he was glad to be getting along with the people around him.
“So, indie fan, what do you do?”
“I’m an accountant.”
“Ah, a numbers guy.”
Castiel squinted and released a short laugh under his breath, “More or less.”
“Well, better you than me. I get tunnel vision when it comes to numbers,” Dean snickered. “I bet you were a mathlete.”
“Yes. And head of the chess team.”
—
That day passed with them having delightful banter between them, and at the end of the week, they went out for drinks with Charlie, Meg, and Benny to celebrate Cas making it though his first week. It was this night when Dean discovered that Castiel was relying on Ubers to get back and forth to work, which he had none of, and volunteered to be Castiel's ride — free of charge — so he could save some money. Besides, the place Castiel was staying at — with his brother, Gabriel — was literally on his way to work.
—
Weeks passed by and Thanksgiving came and went. The first day back welcomed everyone to go on at length about what they did. Charlie drove cross-country to see her mom and knit with her, Benny flew to whichever city his boyfriend was in — Dean didn't remember — proposed, and brought his new fiancé home with him, and Meg had a friendsgiving in which she got drunk off her ass and ate too many jalapeno poppers. All in all, fun was had by all… or so Dean thought.
Dean was one of the ones who had fun during thanksgiving. His little brother, Sam, and his wife Eileen drove in from Topeka with their two kids to stay for the week and they all had a blast. Dean inherited the house from their mom, but Sam struck out on his own. Who could blame him? He had a family now. Regardless, Dean loved his sister in-law, his niece and his nephew, and they all loved him in return. The dinner was great, the company was excellent, the game of Cards Against Humanity after the kids went to bed was fun as hell. Dean wouldn't ask for it to have gone any differently.
But he hated being alone in that house.
Dean told his office friends a streamlined version of the events that took place over break and he and Cas walked over to their cubicle and started to talk amongst themselves.
“You were quiet back there and on the ride here. Is what you did over break improper for work?”
Castiel knew Dean was joking, but the truth was slightly upsetting, and he couldn't lie to Dean.
“No – my brother went to a bachelor party in Vegas, and I stayed home. I binged a few seasons of Frasier while beating too many levels of Candy Crush and also watching weird documentaries on YouTube. All at once.”
With one swift spin, Castiel turned away and Dean followed suit, facing his computer now and booting it up. He felt sad for Cas, and the implications of what he was about to say didn't hit him until they were already out of his mouth.
“Would you like to spend Christmas together?”
—
The night before Christmas Eve, Dean got in his car and went for a drive. Castiel had volunteered to help Dean clean, decorate, and make the food for the occasion. Of course, Dean wasn't going to deny the help, especially since those helping hands belonged to Dean’s favorite person and ~~crush~~ good friend. He hoped Castiel would stay until New Year’s, but Dean had no idea how to make that happen. He also didn’t want to jump the shark and seem a little too eager to be around Castiel, so he reeled it back and continued to secretly hope that Castiel would suggest it himself.
Within ten minutes, Dean arrived outside the apartment, pulled out his phone and shot Castiel a quick text. Most days, Dean never even parked the car, that's how fast Castiel met him in the parking lot, always with a quick “thank you” on his breath upon getting into the car, leading Dean to follow with “you don't have to thank me.” It was routine, and what was happening now, was unusual in comparison. Dean had been sitting here for about five minutes, with the text he sent left unread. His eyebrows furrowed in concern and he decided to park the impala and go get Cas. Dean began to walk up the stairs and huffed as he finished trekking up the second flight and headed toward the apartment. Eventually, he came to a stop in front of the door he’d seen Castiel pop out of countless times, and began to knock.
Soon, a very frazzled Cas answered the door. His hair was everywhere, face flushed, and it seemed like it was a miracle that he was dressed. Speaking of clothing, this is the first time Dean had seen Castiel in casual wear and dear god that t-shirt was either too tight or he was too built and those jeans were also too tight somehow, and – oh shit – Castiel had been talking, and was done now, and waiting for Dean to respond.
Dean felt his cheeks turn red as he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry. What’d you say?”
“I said I was sorry,” Castiel tilted his head, worry clouding his gaze. “For not coming to the door, and for you having to see me like this.”
“Cas,” Dean smiled, sending reassurance Cas’s way. “It’s fine. And, you look great.”
“Dean, I look like I just stumbled out of bed.”
Dean couldn’t help but nod or keep the following statement inside his brain: “Still looks pretty great.”
Castiel just blinked at him for a bit in disbelief before a small smile graced his lips as he opened the door a little more and waved Dean inside.
—
The inside of the apartment looked messy everywhere except for the living room, or what could be called a living room. All the room possessed was an old, worn couch and a tray table. It looked like plenty of parties happened here, as evidenced by assorted solo cups and beer bottles scattered around in random spots. Dean remembered what frat parties were like, and this apartment contained the entire aura of one – smell and all. What puzzled Dean was why one room was clean, and the rest weren’t, but he figured he’d find out eventually, whether through Castiel directly telling him or him piecing context clues together.
Turns out, it’d be a little bit of both.
The couch released a loud creak as each of them sat; Dean frowned when Castiel visibly cringed at this happenstance, and it was suddenly so clear that Castiel never wanted Dean to see this.
“What’s wrong, Cas?”
It didn’t hurt to ask. Any answer Castiel gave would be something worthwhile.
A loud sigh pierced the air. “I was packing a bag and I was looking for one specific shirt. It’s red and long–sleeved and has a little embroidered Christmas tree growing out of the pocket. But I can’t find it,” Castiel shook his head, and his voice had a distraught edge that was barely under control. “I think I must’ve – must’ve forgot it when I moved. It’s in a landfill somewhere now, I know it —”
“Woah, hey,” Dean shifted his weight to the ground, kneeling in front of Cas. “It’s alright. I’ll take a shot at finding it. Where’s your room?”
Castiel stared at him blankly at first, his face slowly evolving into reflecting a combination of feelings Dean couldn't place. Embarrassment? Disbelief? Both?
“I don't have one, Dean,” he gestured to the couch. “You’re looking at it.”
The amount of sympathy Dean felt for Castiel was through the roof. Dean internally facepalmed, of course this room was tidy, it was the only one taken care of, the only one Cas occupied. He was left speechless for what felt like far too long, and all he could do was rise a little and give Castiel a hug.
“C’mon, bring what you packed. I got a shirt you can wear.”
—
“Where’s your brother anyway?”
They had finished the cleaning they had needed to do and were eating an amazing meal, otherwise known as pizza, when Dean's mouth decided to ask that question, and his brain wanted to melt into the floor.
“Jamaica.”
Dean's eyebrow crooked, “really?”
“Yeah,” Castiel nodded and swallowed his bite of pizza. “Planned vacation — from before I moved in. He's with friends.”
The conversation twisted and turned from there. Dean asked if Gabriel was younger than Cas and when he answered that Gabriel was older than him, Dean about lost his shit — going off on a tangent about how the only way he'd let Sammy sleep on a couch is if that was where he happened to fall asleep, and that's only because the guy is just too damn large now to carry to a bed. Luckily for Dean, Castiel saw the point in his voiced opinion, but he also raised a point that Dean hadn't thought of.
“Dean, I know it's not ideal. But, he gave me a place to sleep when I had nowhere else to go. He even forewarned me about only having a couch for me in advance, but I didn't care. I needed to be somewhere else.”
With this admission, Dean paled. But he understood the sentiment behind Castiel's words. He needed to escape something…. Who better to turn to than family? It made sense, even if it wasn't ideal. Dean hated that a small part of him wanted to ask Castiel to move in with him. It was selfish. Selfish by far. But he shook it off and decided to bring attention to a different question he had.
Before backtracking, that is.
“Why did you have to do — ” he paused and shook his head, shaking the question away as if his brain was an etch-a-sketch. “You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.”
It took a moment, but a shy smile appeared on Castiel's face.
“Thank you, Dean.”
That told Dean everything he needed to know.
There were some things that Castiel wanted to remain secret.
—
That night, Castiel slept in a bed for the first time in months, and Dean slept on the other side of the wall, smiling in his sleep, happy that the person he cared about so dearly was comfortable.
—
The next day, Dean and Cas made a ham, mashed potatoes, broccoli, and toasted some store–bought rolls. Once Sam and his family arrived, they began to eat and visit. Everything was perfect to Dean. Thanksgiving was great, yeah. But this was absolutely perfect.
The kids really seemed to like Cas, but, more importantly, it seemed that Sam and Eileen did too. Cas and Eileen kicked it off immediately, since Castiel knew some sign language. Dean did not know this — he felt like he didn't know a lot of things about Cas — but, watching Cas's fingers move made Dean lose access to his brain for a moment.
Sam waving in front of his face brought him back.
“Dude, you okay?”
Dean blinked multiple times, his mind regaining consciousness. He was glad that the kids were busying themselves now that the meal was done — according to them, the tree needed more tinsel — and that Cas and Eileen were in the kitchen, ‘doing the dishes,’ nah, they were just talking, but that was the excuse they gave when they left the table.
“He fits right in, doesn't he?”
Sam nodded solemnly, a tiny smile spreading on his lips. Sam knew his brother very well, and hadn't seen Dean act this way about somebody in a very long time. He suddenly felt grateful for Castiel existing, and so very happy for Dean. Even though they supposedly “weren’t together,” according to Dean — they would be soon. Sam knew it.
“Yeah, Dean. Yeah, he does.”
—
They collectively decided to wait till the morning to open gifts; after all, Bobby and Shannon wanted to set up a blanket fort in the living room, and a trap (with cookies as bait) to catch Santa in the act of placing more gifts under the tree. Bobby and Shannon were six and five, so their belief in Santa was at full force. Sam and Eileen and Dean all enjoyed that the kids believed, but also didn't want to ruin it for them by having one of them be potentially caught. They knew the trap was going to work – it was a miracle it was still standing. Someone walking past it too fast could knock it over. After the kids went to bed, they continued to mull on who should be Santa and how to play this off. Eileen suggested that someone should go for the cookies, get caught in the trap, pretend to set it back up again after talking with the kids and then someone else should put the gifts under the tree after the kids fell asleep again. A solid plan. However, Dean objected.
“I have a perfectly good Santa suit, and I don't want it to go to waste.”
Sam squinted. “What do you suggest then?”
—
“Dean, I'm not good with kids. I can't be Santa.”
Dean placed his hands on Cas's shoulders, reassuring him. “You were fine with them earlier, besides they probably won't even wake up, and honestly,” Dean chuckled and waggled his eyebrows, hoping this joke — sure, Dean — would clear the air.
“I kinda wanna see you in the suit.”
—
Castiel was now adorned in the big red suit, hat, and fake, white, itchy beard, holding a large sack with different gifts in it. He felt ridiculous, especially since Dean was standing in the hallway, perched at such an angle to where he could see everything.
Dean watched as Castiel carefully and quietly took all of the gifts out of the bag, and rested them under the glow of the beautifully lit tree. So far, he was a natural at this and Dean felt secure in his idea to have Castiel do this. However, now came the part of getting to the cookies and getting out of there without setting the trap and waking the kids. The trap was a few blankets secured in a half-tent position by clothesline clips and a few pvc pipes from Dean's shed, that rested against a few books. It wasn't sturdy at all, and there was a bell attached to one of the pipes, so if it fell, Cas was toast. He got down low and started to army crawl under the blanket. Everything seemed to going okay from the angle Dean was at; he heard chewing, which was a good sign. But, when Cas started backing up, he must've hit something because the blankets fell and the pipes fell on him, and he grunted, and the bell rang, and then the kids were up.
“We caught him, Shannon!”
Dean ducked behind the wall, so he could hear what was happening, but he didn't want to be seen now. He honestly didn't know what to do here. From the other room, Dean heard rustling and a mumble, something along the lines of “let’s do this like Scooby-Doo,” and then a set of gasps, followed by a beat of silence.
“Course, it’s him. He's new.” Shannon whispered.
“This is awesome. Our new uncle is Santa.”
“No! It's bad! We have to be good now. Mama and Papa will know if we're bad.”
Shannon raised a good point – wait, new uncle?!
Bobby continued to ask uncle-related questions, and got Shannon interested in it as well.
“Are you our new uncle?”
“Can you have two uncles? Is that okay?”
“Yeah, it's okay. Shan, your best friend has two mamas.”
“That's true, she does.”
Dean could picture Cas's eyes going back and forth between the two kids, especially since they were talking more to each other than him.
“Uncle Santa, do you know about the paint behind the couch?” Bobby asked.
“Uhhh, no. I do not.” Castiel sounded confused and concerned, but goddamn, he was handling this like a champ.
“Should we tell Mama and Papa?”
Dean could nearly hear Castiel nodding, “Yes. Yes, you should.”
Another beat of silence occurred for a few moments, before the uncle related questions came back.
“Uncle Santa, do you –”
“Kids…. I'm sorry —”
Don't tell them you're not Santa. Please don't tell them you're not Santa.
“— I'm not your new uncle.”
Dean peaked around the corner now, Shannon and Bobby were silent, but Shannon leaned in.
“But, you are Santa, right?”
Castiel nodded, and Bobby squinted.
“Are you sure you're not our new uncle?”
“Your uncle and I – we're…… close – yes,” Dean pressed his lips together. Castiel was stumbling over his words and Dean was concerned now over where this was going to go.
“But, symbolically —”
Bobby shook his head in confusion. “Symbolically???”
“Uncle Dean likes you, Uncle Santa.”
“She's right.”
Castiel nodded and grabbed another cookie, presumably for the road. “I think you two need to go to bed instead of trying to set Santa up with your uncle.”
Reluctantly, the kids agreed and said goodnight before going back inside their blanket fort to go back to sleep. Castiel grabbed the rest of the cookie plate and stood, stalling for a few seconds before he ambled down the hallway, smiling at Dean as he turned and started to walk backwards. “I earned these,” he mumbled, and Dean couldn't help but smile back, while trying so hard to hold back the blush threatening to appear on his cheeks, because the kids were dead right, and after that performance, Castiel deserved every cookie set out in America.
“You did, Cas,” the door to Cas's room shut and Dean's face fell. He hoped to god that Castiel didn't hate him for this.
“You sure as hell earned it,” Dean whispered to no one as he meandered down the hallway to his room.
—
The next day, they all gathered beneath the branches of the tree and traded gifts, laughter and love. Castiel got the kids crystal growing sets, and that was a huge hit. Additionally, Sam got Castiel a spinny chair that matched Dean, except it was blue instead of green. Dean could see it in his eyes that Castiel was excited to set up the chair, but they decided on waiting until they got back to the office to do that. Castiel's gift to Sam and Eileen was a cotton candy making machine — random, it seemed — but Castiel felt it in his gut that this was the right gift, and he was right. They loved it, and wondered how the hell he knew to get that. But, in truth, Castiel didn't know how. Dean got the kids a slew of gifts, and got Sam and Eileen a panini maker and a fire extinguisher — Sam wasn't exactly great in the kitchen, and Eileen wanted the panini maker — and Sam and Eileen got Dean several gift cards for local restaurants since Dean always complained about how hard it was to cook for one.
“Get something healthy,” Sam had said as soon as Dean opened the card and the avalanche of cards fell out.
Dean felt a shit eating grin appear on his lips. “Sammy, it's free. I'll treat myself.
“You treat yourself all the time, Dean!” Sam was smiling too, knowing exactly what Dean would do at any of the restaurants he gave cards to.
Dean felt grateful for everything he had, but staring past Sam at Castiel playing with the kids with Eileen, made him long for more than he ever longed for before.
—
Several shades of indigo blended together in the sky, creating a perfect painting as dusk settled outside. Dean and Cas stood in the doorway, waving at the car and smiling as Sam sluggishly backed out of the driveway. The kids didn't want to leave, so the process of saying goodbye and then leaving took almost an hour – a true Midwest goodbye – not that anyone was complaining. Sam and Eileen didn't want to leave, but they had to, after all, they had a trip planned to go to Indianapolis so the kids could see some big city fireworks.
This left Dean and Cas alone to clean up after the festivities, but, neither of them wanted to do that right now. Instead, wordlessly, they congregated in front of the Christmas tree, grabbed their gifts for each other and sat next to one another on the couch.
Dean clutched the bag he had for Cas, his eyebrows furrowed, a pit of worry settled in his stomach over what could happen when Castiel reached into this bag.
“Do you want me to —”
“ — I should go first,” Castiel stated, the same expression Dean had reflected to him. A mirror. Fear.
But what did Castiel have to worry about?
A card came Dean’s direction, a slightly shaky hand outreaching it towards him. “I’m sorry if this isn't enough.”
Dean scoffed at the concept, released his white-knuckle grip on the bag and began to open the envelope. The card was simple: white with a black and gold plaid Christmas tree on it, and “Happy Holidays” printed in gold cursive. Tentatively, Dean opened the card. Upon seeing the contents, his eyes widened, and a slight gasp passed through his lips.
Inside was a gift card for a gas station for two hundred dollars.
“I knew I should've done more,” Cas said with a sigh.
“Are you insane?” Dean blurted. “You didn't have to do this. I told you the rides were free of charge in the beginning.”
“I know, but,” Castiel shrugged.
“But what?”
“I felt like I owed you a little anyway.”
Dean didn't even have to say anything. He knew he looked disgusted at the notion of this.
“More than just monetarily, Dean,” Castiel elaborated, easing how Dean felt. “You’ve been so nice to me since we met. You encouraged me to interact with coworkers outside of work. You've made work entertaining. I finally feel like I have found someone I can trust…. And it's been awhile since I've felt that way. I've lost trust before. But I don't see that happening here. I wanted you to have this Dean. I wanted to do more, but I didn't know what else to do —”
“Cas, don’t,” Dean smiled softly at Castiel. “Thank you. You didn't have to.”
Dean handed Cas the gift bag, “Your turn,” he stated as he felt his stomach twist in his gut. Castiel reached in the bag and muttered a quick ‘thank you,’ and a ‘you really didn't have to do anything’ while unwrapping the gift Dean enclosed inside tissue paper. Once the tissue paper was discarded, Castiel unrolled his gift. In his lap was a red, long-sleeved shirt, with an embroidered Christmas tree growing up out of the pocket. Identical to the one he lost. Dean watched as Castiel stared down at the shirt, fear running through him. He hoped Castiel liked it, that he saw it as a chance to start over, instead of it being a reminder of whatever it was he went through — Dean didn't know anything about that — but he knew how much this shirt meant to Cas. But then, Castiel looked up at him, a smile on his face and tears in his eyes, and the worry inside Dean instantly disappeared.
“This is what I meant, Dean,” Castiel's bottom lip vanished in his frown as he tried so hard not to cry. “When I said that you are so nice to me. How did you even manage to get a hold of —”
Dean launched forward and wrapped Castiel in a hug. “It doesn't matter how Cas. I saw much it meant to you, and I knew you needed to have it.”
Hot, silent tears soaked through Dean's shirt, and Dean began to rub Cas's back as their embrace withstood this development. If anything, Dean squeezed him even tighter.
“This shirt was the last thing my dad got me before he passed,” a few breaths traveled straight from Cas’s lips and into Dean’s ear, they were easing, slowing down, the intensity downgrading. “I know this shirt isn't the exact same one, but I can pretend. Besides,” Castiel pulled away and smiled, his face just inches away from Dean's. “This is the first gift you've given me. Symbolically at least.”
Dean smiled back, an idea brewing in his mind, as he tried to distract himself from how much he wanted to kiss Cas. He licked his lips, his smile turning into a smirk.
“There’s a bottle of peppermint schnapps that Eileen left. Wanna toast to new memories?”
“Only if we also toast to getting through the holiday.”
“You’re on.”
—
Turns out, Dean hates peppermint schnapps, and Castiel loves it. For everything they toasted to, Dean had a polite sip, while Cas had a whole glass and now he was tipsy as hell and a giggling mess and his cheeks and the tip of his nose were red and he looked absolutely adorable.
“Am I gonna have to carry you to bed, or???”
Dean asked nonchalantly. He legitimately wondered if Cas could stand. It seemed he didn't hold his own well in terms of alcohol, whenever Dean and Cas ever hung out at a bar, Cas didn't drink. So seeing Cas like this was a first.
“Nooooooooo. I. Am……..good.”
Dean chuckled. “Okay, buddy, stay here just in case. I gotta go to the bathroom.”
—
In truth, Dean had to grab some clothes from the dryer, use the toilet, take a quick shower and change into pjs. Which, even though he didn't want to leave Castiel alone, he knew this would take ten minutes, if that, and Cas knew how to work the TV – at least whilst sober – but Dean had a feeling alcohol wouldn't impair the knowledge of universal remotes too much. However, instead of finding Castiel watching TV in the living room, he found the room empty, and realized that the ‘Never leave someone who's drunk alone’ rule included ‘your co-worker/best friend/nearly a roommate’ that you have a crush on.
A quick glance out the window determined that it was snowing, so that ruled out the idea of Castiel leaving. Dean doubted Cas would leave even if the weather was perfect. Dean thought maybe Castiel got hungry, but couldn't find him or any signs that Cas was in there. Confused, Dean trekked down the hallway towards the room Cas was staying in, maybe he got tired? It was perfectly feasible. However, before Dean reached the end of the hallway, he heard snoring. The faint sounds wafting in the air, coming from the open door to his bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe, smiling at the sight of Castiel fast asleep, curled up in the fetal position, illuminated by the glow of the standing lamp Dean kept on dim. Cas's arms embraced a section of bunched up blanket, squeezing it in his sleep. Dean found himself internally gushing, entering the room and shutting the door behind him, feeling eternally grateful that he invested in a king sized bed. Seeing no other options – not wanting to see any other options – Dean switched off the light, climbed into bed next to Cas and fell asleep.
—
Dean didn't know what time he woke up, and for a brief moment, he didn't know why either, until he heard whimpering and felt movement next to him. Rolling over, Dean was able to see Cas kicking in his sleep, his moonlit face scrunched up in pain. Dean felt compelled to reach over and shake Cas awake, but when he raised his hand to grab Cas's shoulder, Dean was interrupted by words from below, dripping in fear and sadness.
“No. No. No, no. Please…. Please, don't leave ……….. don't………please………….why?”
Dean decided it was his turn to interject, completing his reach and shaking Cas gently from the shoulder. Castiel awoke with a lot of blinking accompanied by heavy breathing, which slowly subsided into a look of embarrassment, “I’m sorry,” he stated. “This happens a lot more often than I’d like to admit.”
“The nightmares or climbing into friend's beds?”
Castiel chuckled. Which was the exact reaction Dean wanted.
“Unfortunately, the former,” crinkles formed by the sides of his eyes as he smiled. “I’m sorry about climbing in here, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Well, you were half drunk at the time. Most ideas are good ideas when you're that way.”
Dean knew this all too well. He's had plenty of mornings when he's woken up in a stranger's bed. Most of those mornings were in one particular stranger's bed when Dean went off the deep end after Sam left for college and their dad passed. He kept going to this one bar and the bouncer took him home with her and prop him up in her spare bedroom when he had one too many. He'd regularly wake up to find the same printed out note inscribing the who, what, where, when, whys and hows of the situation. Rhonda Hurley. Once Dean was on his feet, they began a relationship of sorts, but it stayed platonic. They cared for one another, but they never went that far. They didn't have to. Neither of them needed that. Besides, he learned things about himself in that direction during their relationship, despite never completely going that way with her in the first place. Bottom line, Dean knew where Cas was coming from a little. However, this particular situation was interlaced with far more concern for Cas's well-being. Dean wanted to know why these things happened to Cas. But, he didn't want to overstep. But, he didn't want Castiel to think that he didn't care. But questioning Cas might make this awkward.
“It was about my ex, Dean,” the duality of a sad smile reflected up to him. “I could see it in your face. You wanted to know.”
Dean nodded carefully. “Yeah, I – I did.”
“We were engaged. I thought everything was going great, but, one day I caught him cheating on me, and stupidly, I decided to give him a second chance. We worked it out, started planning the wedding again, and then I caught him yet again,” Castiel sighed heavily and tears brimmed in his eyes. This was the heavy part. “He told me he didn't love me anymore. That he didn't think he ever truly did in the first place, and gave me the weekend to move out. And I, in denial, begged him not to leave as he was walking out the door and out of my life, without so much as a ‘goodbye.’ The first thing I did was call Gabriel, the second thing I did was call my boss and told them I needed to be transferred to another branch of Chevrolet. By Sunday night, I was in Kansas.”
Suddenly, so many things were explained. Dean felt heartbroken for Cas, pissed off at his ex for treating Cas like that, and apologetic towards Gabriel because Dean thought so badly of him before, but now Dean knew this situation was mostly out of his control. The man was just doing what he could to help his brother. It's just that what he could do was very little. However, right now, Dean had to pick an emotional battle to fight. Naturally, he chose Cas.
“Cas, I am so sorry. You didn't deserve any of that bullshit.”
To say Castiel smiled at him wouldn't be enough. He gazed at Dean with a look in his eyes as if Dean was the only thing that mattered, that meant anything to him. There was love in that gaze. Dean couldn't deny that, even if he tried his damnedest.
“It’s okay, Dean. I met you a week later.”
“I really mean that much to you?” Dean asked, thinking out loud, a little dumbfounded at this. But all Castiel did was sigh and gaze at Dean lovingly. “You’re such an idiot,” he breathed and surged forward, closing the gap between them and kissing him, sweet, sexy and deliberate. All Dean could do was groan and give back the same amount of passion. Heavy breaths echoed when lips parted as the kisses turned hot, fast, like they wanted to eat the other alive and never stop tasting. Castiel wrapped a leg over Dean and used leverage to move him onto his back, a tower of Castiel hovering over him and resting in his lap. However, instead of Castiel leaning down to kiss him, or grind down on him, or both — Dean was not picky — Castiel grimaced and released a pained noise as one hand came up to hold his head.
“Maybe the drinking affected you more than you thought, huh?” Dean's hand rubbed Castiel's thigh, his fingers moving in a circular motion. Another noise passed through Cas’s lips and a barely–there nod came from him, prompting Dean to help Cas lie down again.
“C’mon – easy. That's it, roll over,” encouragement was the least Dean could do through this, releasing a “there we go” once Cas was settled on his side and under the blankets. “We’ll have hangover burgers for breakfast tomorrow, no worries.” Arms wrapped around Castiel for the sake of comfort, protectiveness, and out of instinct. All those things led to Dean placing several, soothing kisses to Cas's forehead as the man nuzzled into his chest.
I love you
Is what Dean thought.
“Move in with me?”
Is what left his mouth. A sacred tone, so low, it could almost be called a whisper. He felt a smile against the cloth of his shirt, and thought he knew exactly what the answer would be. A simple yes.
But, with Castiel, nothing was simple, and yet everything was.
“I love you too.”
—
By the next night, Castiel was fully moved in, as he really didn't have that much to bring over. His main dilemma surrounding this was breaking the news to Gabriel, but a quick phone call proved that he had been rooting for the two of them to get together since Dean started giving Cas rides to work. So naturally, Gabe had no problem with Castiel moving in with Dean. He was very happy for them.
They spent the next few days living in domestic bliss. Cooking for each other, eating together, watching movies while cuddled up on the couch, observing the birds through the window because it was too cold to watch them outside. They drank cocoa by the fire, talking about everything, nothing, and all in–between. They couldn't get enough of one another, even when they slept, they were locked together like puzzle pieces.
When new years eve rolled around, they kissed at midnight and made love for the first time, fireworks providing ambiance while they made each other see fireworks behind their eyes. Later on, they basked in the glow, watching little rays of color decorate their ceiling for short moments as they slowly drifted asleep in each other’s arms.
—
The next day, Sam called. They were on their way back home now, the kids loved seeing the city fireworks and they were now asleep in the car as Eileen drove. Dean was nervous, but told him about Cas moving in and that he and Castiel were together now, to which Sam turned the phone a little bit away from him and told Eileen “You owe me twenty bucks.” Turns out, they had a bet going that Dean and Cas would either start dating before or after they went back to work, and were extremely happy for them. Both sides of their family were more than supportive and the two of them were happy with that knowledge. They spent another week in picture perfect domesticity and then…
It came time to go back to work.
—
The two of them agreed to go in early so they could put together and set up Castiel's new blue spinny chair and so they could have a few moments alone before everyone else showed up. As soon as the chair was set up, Castiel took it for a spin, literally, laughing as he did so.
“I haven't spun like this since I was a kid!”
He continued to laugh as he spun around again and Dean sat down in his matching green one, spinning around a few times and laughing before they stopped at the same time and faced each other. Dizziness pulled lightly in their heads but their faces were full of love. Verbal “I love you’s” were shared, as they were still alone. But not–so–distant squealing indicated that they actually weren't.
There was Charlie, jumping on the balls of her feet, wearing a party hat, a rainbow sweater and golden glasses in the shape of the new year. They smiled at her, enjoying her apparent excitement, but waited to see what Charlie was going to say, especially since Meg was rounding the corner behind her with a box of donuts and she didn't seem to notice, despite the clunking of Meg’s boots.
“Yes!! You're together! I'm so happy for you two!!”
The donuts hit the ground.
“What?!”
Benny peeked around the corner.
“Finally.”
The five of them ate donuts in celebration; a year later, in celebration of Dean proposing, they ate donuts, and two years after that, they ate donuts after everyone else left the wedding venue. The two of them stayed in that cubicle with their matching chairs, despite company policy indicating that partners needed to be separated, their boss made an exception, since they were both more productive now that they were together then they ever were. Even when they were offered promotions that came with more space or a separate office, they opted to stay by one another, in the place that they met and the place Dean proposed in, back to back, with their matching chairs.
They always chose each other.