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Sam picks up on the fifth ring of the second call. “Deeeeean,” he groans, his voice raspy with sleep. There’s no mistaking the annoyance in his tone.
“Hey, why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“It’s fucking ass o’clock in the morning, and—”
“Dude, no it’s not,” Dean interrupts, glancing at the clock. “It’s almost one in the afternoon, sleeping beauty.”
“Time zones, you asshole.”
“Even in California it can’t be much earlier than eleven, college boy.”
“Whatever!” Sam grumbles. “I just had a final yesterday. Do you know what that means?” Sam pauses for about half a second before steamrollering on, “It means I got no sleep the night before because I was cramming, and I need my sleep right now.”
“Quit whining, you giant wuss. I need to talk to you.”
And yeah, as little as Dean likes talking about things, it’s been a few days since the awkward as fuck meeting between Dean and Balthazar, and he and Cas haven’t spoken. Cas said something about how they could go back to what they were doing before, but neither of them has tried to initiate contact since that morning, and it’s driving Dean crazy, thinking about what Balthazar could be doing to try to charm his way into Cas’s bed.
Or maybe it’s already happened. Maybe Cas decided to just go for it, since Dean knows already. The thought of Balthazar’s hands on Cas makes Dean feel sick, makes him want to go and punch out all his frustration on a wall or a tree or something. Like a dude with blond hair, blue-grey eyes, a nice suit, and a snotty British accent to top it all off.
“Ugh,” is all Sam says in response, but Dean takes it as encouragement to keep talking, to get rid of his murderous urges in a less… less murderous way.
“It’s uh… it’s about Cas.”
There’s a brief silence on the other side, and then a wary, “What about Cas?”
Dean frowns. “Why’d you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like… like there’s something you know that I don’t know,” Dean says, and just, shit. He gets to his feet and starts pacing, unable to keep still. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. You knew all about this, didn’t you? You’ve known, and you didn’t even think to tell me. How long has this been going on?”
“Dean—Dean, stop. Calm down. I didn’t tell you because Cas didn’t want you to know. How’d you even find out?”
“I asked first, goddamn it. How long?” Dean demands, because it’s one thing if Cas didn’t tell Dean about Balthazar, but it’s another if he told Sam about it and specifically asked Sam to keep it from Dean. And then he goes and says all this shit about Dean not being his keeper, and nothing changing between them. What bullshit—
“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam’s saying. “It’s not like I know the exact date and time it all started.”
“Give me a ballpark estimate, then,” Dean says roughly. Cas is gonna hear about this, but Dean’s gotta get his facts straight first.
Sam sighs, and there’s another silence.
“Is it that hard? Just—”
“I can’t—I’m tired, Dean!” Sam protests. “I don’t know, a few years or something?”
And Dean freezes, because that—that doesn’t make any sense. “Years,” he says flatly.
“Well, yeah. I mean, you guys have been together for like, a year and a half already, and it started at least a year before that, because I noticed—”
No, this makes no sense. Balthazar can’t have been in Cas’s life for that long without Dean noticing. And besides, Balthazar said something about six—seven?—dates. Over the course of a few years? That’s… that’s ridiculous. And there is no way that Cas was with Balthazar before Dean. No way in fucking hell.
“…Dean? Are you even listening anymore?” Sam’s asking.
“Look, Sam, I don’t think you know what you’re talking about, because there’s… Balthazar can’t have been around for that long.”
A long pause. Then Sam says, “Sorry, Dean. Who?”
A sick feeling starts up in Dean’s gut, and he can’t exactly figure out what it’s about. “Balthazar. You know, Cas and Balthazar, and…”
Dean hears Sam mutter a quiet, “Shit.”
“Okay, so you don’t know about Balthazar. What the fuck were you talking about, then?”
“I… nothing.”
But the thoughts are already whirring away in Dean’s head. Something that Sam would have picked up on, years ago, before this arrangement—and he’s really starting to hate that fucking word—started between him and Cas. Something that Cas would have talked to Sam about, asked Sam to keep away from Dean.
And Cas never kept anything from Dean, not after that first year as roommates. Hell, Cas didn’t even try to hide it when he was checking out another guy’s ass. There can’t have been much that he’d ask Sam not to tell Dean, can’t have been much that he’d discuss with Sam over Dean.
“Dean?”
That’s Sam’s voice, tinny, still on the line. The sick feeling intensifies, and Dean feels like he’s gonna hurl.
All the guys he introduced Cas to in the past, all the dates Cas apparently sat through because Dean recommended these guys. And fuck, he remembers the times he’d catch Cas looking at him appreciatively, and it never really struck him as strange because well, he’s always known he was a hot piece of ass, and he’s never begrudged anyone for looking their fill. He never thought of it as anything more than that, and just, fuck.
“Dean. Hey. Who’s this Balthazar guy?”
But Dean’s mouth isn’t quite connected to his mind anymore, and who even gives a fuck about Balthazar when Cas… God, no.
Dean clears his throat, and it takes far more effort than it should. “Sam, just… be straight with me.”
“O—kay?” Sam says, “o” drawn out in a way that’s supposed to be familiar, supposed to say that he’s just going along with Dean’s craziness to humor him, but Sam’s trying too hard for casual, and Dean can hear the apprehension in his voice.
“Does Cas… does he…” he coughs here, not even on purpose, and goddamn it, he’s always hated talking about feelings—
“Yes!” Sam blurts out, exasperated. “Yes, you gigantic moron, Cas loves you. I have no fucking idea why, because you’re even more incapable of expressing your emotions than a potato, for Christ’s sake—”
But Dean isn’t listening anymore, stopped listening after those three words—Cas loves you. Cas… Cas loves him.
Cas loves Dean.
Dean. Not Balthazar.
And god, he feels like the Grinch at the end of the movie after his heart’s swollen five or six or eighty gajillion times—he doesn’t know, he wasn’t paying attention—because his chest’s about to burst, and all he knows is that right now, he’s gotta find Cas.
He becomes aware of the fact that Sam’s still rambling on—“don’t know how many times I tried to—”
“Sam, I… I’ve gotta go,” Dean says, and he hears Sam huffing an incredulous laugh just before he hangs up.
First he tries calling Cas, but his phone is off. He considers leaving a message, but he really doesn’t want to do this over the phone, needs to see him. He starts pacing again, tries Lisa’s phone. Maybe they’re having lunch today. Lisa doesn’t pick up either, and that means they’re definitely having lunch together. He doesn’t even bother trying Anna, because the three of them agreed to keep phones off for their hangouts. Something about reserving time for each other.
But Dean doesn’t really give a damn about that right now, and he needs to find Cas. So he runs through the places that he’s heard them mention, trying to decide on the most likely place.
He’s already in his car, heading for this café called Gratitude a few blocks away from KU campus when his phone rings.
“Jess?” he says when he picks up.
“Yeah, hey!” she says brightly—Jess is somehow always in a good mood. How she manages it Dean has no idea.
“Sorry, I’m a bit busy—”
“Looking for Cas, I know,” she says. “I’ll keep it quick, then. Lisa said they’re gonna be at Bambino’s Italian today, ‘cause she’s been craving their chocolate cake.”
“Jess, you’re an angel. I love you,” Dean says, swerving into the left lane to make a U-turn.
Jess laughs. “If any of them yell at you, tell them I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, sure. I swear, if Sam doesn’t marry you, I’m gonna knock his teeth out.”
“Don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about that, Dean,” Jess answers good-naturedly. “Good luck, hon.”
“Thanks.”
“So, how’s that teaching position looking?” Anna asks.
“Not bad,” Castiel answers. “I’m a bit young to be hired on as a professor, so I’ll be spending a few years as an assistant professor first.”
Anna smiles. “That’s great! It’s just a title. You’re gonna be teaching your own courses, right?”
Castiel nods, and Anna beams.
Lisa rolls her eyes. “Cut it out, Anna. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Cas was your adopted son or something.”
Anna presses a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Do I really look that old already?”
“Only if you squint,” Lisa says.
Castiel reaches out to rest a hand over Anna’s. “Don’t worry. I’ll always think you’re young and beautiful, Mom.”
“You two are the worst. I don’t know why I still bother driving all this way every other week.”
“Aw, you couldn’t live without us, that’s why,” Lisa says.
Castiel stops himself before he can suggest that Anna move back into town.
She and Dean are on civil terms, but that might only be because Castiel hasn’t seen them in the same room for years. It’s weird to think that their relationship had gotten to the point where Anna had asked Dean to marry her. The details of the situation had been hazy because Castiel heard both sides of the story, and the versions had been different, altered for his ears.
Years later, one of the only things he’s sure of is that Anna rushed into it because it was what she thought was right, a timing sort of thing—and yeah, Castiel knows that Anna’s upbringing was similar to his, so there were some notions that Anna couldn’t shake. Sitting and standing with ramrod-straight posture, for example. It just so happened that getting engaged three years into a relationship was one of those things.
The only other thing Castiel knows for sure is that Dean had actually loved her—really loved her—and oh, how Castiel had envied her. But Dean had balked at the idea of tying the knot, getting hitched so early. The breakup had been long, drawn out over several days of arguing and making up and fighting and apologizing. Castiel did what he could as a listener, refusing to take sides. Lisa, meanwhile, had taken Dean’s side, unable to sympathize with Anna’s past like Castiel could. The ensuing rift hadn’t been fun for Castiel.
“Um, hello? Earth to Cas?” Lisa’s saying, and Castiel blinks a few times.
“Yeah, sorry. What?” he says. Lisa’s eyes cut to the amused waiter standing at the table, and Castiel flushes. “Oh. Sorry. I’ll have the pasta alla sorella.”
“Good choice,” the waiter says, throwing a flirtatious wink his way, and before Castiel can respond, the guy is slipping away from the table.
“I believe you’ve just been thoroughly checked out,” Lisa says, grinning.
“Yeah, very funny,” Castiel says.
“Anyway, tell us about Balthy. He was so nice when he dropped you off,” Lisa says, and damn, Castiel had thought that Anna had successfully diverted the topic of conversation away from Balthazar.
“Can you please refrain from calling him that?” Castiel says in lieu of any real response.
“I actually am curious about him,” Anna admits. Oh, she’s a traitor, and Castiel doesn’t bother hiding his thoughts when he turns his gaze on her. She just lifts an eyebrow and meets his eyes steadily. “He looked quite taken with you,” she continues, and please, stop.
“Quite,” Lisa repeats, sniggering.
Castiel shakes his head. “What do you want to know about him?” he asks, a bit of resignation creeping into his voice—he might as well get this over with now, because he knows that Lisa won’t let this go.
As predicted, Lisa pounces. “Have you slept with him?”
“No.”
“Do you plan to?”
Castiel hesitates, and Anna takes pity on him.
“Lisa, stop,” she says. “Is he… nice?”
Lisa laughs. “He sure looked nice. I’ll bet he would kiss Cas’s shoes if Cas asked him nicely.”
“He is a kind person, yes,” Castiel says to Anna, ignoring Lisa’s comment.
“Are you interested in him?” Anna asks.
Castiel shrugs and takes a sip from the glass of water set in front of him, because he honestly isn’t sure what he wants anymore. Okay no, that’s a lie. What he wants is, always has been, and always will be, at least for the foreseeable future, Dean.
But that’s impractical, improbable, and Balthazar is here. At dinner last night, Balthazar even offered to give up his estate, sell it and stay here, for Castiel. Castiel had tried to laugh it off as a joke, but Balthazar had stopped him—Cas, it’s good that you’re acquiring a sense of humor, but I hope you know I did mean every word of that—and an offer like that isn’t something Castiel can take lightly. Balthazar wants him, and not just because he’s attractive. God, if only I could keep you, he’d said as they parted for the night, yet Castiel only wishes he could hear Dean say that to him.
“I think he should go for it,” Lisa’s saying to Anna, but Anna’s frowning.
“Well I mean…” she looks at Castiel. “Does he make you happy?”
“He does make me laugh,” Castiel says with a small smile. Anna’s still frowning, but Lisa claps her hands together.
“Hell, that’s good enough. Plenty! I mean, he’s not half as gorgeous as Dean is, but Dean… god, Dean.” Lisa shakes her head, smiling fondly. “Dean’s not the kind of guy who’s gonna stick around for the long haul. You know, Cas? I mean, we’ve all had a bit of experience with that, haven’t we?”
“All right, enough of my drama. How about you, Lisa? How are you and Matt?” Castiel says.
But Anna’s shaking her head, a hand held up in Lisa’s direction to keep her from responding to Castiel. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about him, Cas. How are things going with Dean? It’s been a while since you’ve mentioned him.”
“We’re fine,” Castiel says. “I saw him a few days ago, when he got back from visiting Sam.”
“Oh right, Sam’s birthday is around this time of year, isn’t it?” Anna says—she’s always been better with these sorts of details than Lisa.
“Yes.”
“Um,” Lisa says suddenly, and Castiel and Anna look over at her, only to see her staring towards the front of the restaurant. “Speaking of Dean… what is he doing here?”
Then Lisa and Anna are both looking at Castiel, and he shakes his head. “I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
A waiter—their waiter—is pointing Dean in their direction, and Dean’s eyes flit over to Castiel’s and stop there. There’s a look on his face that Castiel recognizes, one that screams we need to talk, and he quickly averts his eyes, turning back to face the girls.
“He’s coming over,” Anna says. “Why is he coming over?”
It occurs to Castiel that Anna and Dean haven’t seen each other in person for a few years. Oh, this could turn out to be really awkward.
“Cas.”
And Castiel has to turn slightly in his chair, look up at Dean, and hope that his smile doesn’t look too forced. “Hello, Dean.”
“Dean,” Lisa says, and Castiel can tell just from the tone of her voice that she’s smiling.
“Lisa, Anna, it’s good to see you again,” Dean says, but his eyes hardly stray from Castiel.
“Yes, it’s been a while,” Anna says.
Dean’s eyes are finally drawn away from Castiel’s for an extended moment, and Castiel turns back to face the table. Anna’s smiling, and it looks completely natural, not uncomfortable at all, and Castiel’s about to wonder whether he should ask Anna for lessons on how to emulate that when Dean walks around the table and leans down to give her a hug. Okay, so it’s genuine. What?
Anna’s eyes flick between Lisa and Castiel when Dean pulls back, and she laughs. “What’s wrong with you two?”
And when Castiel looks at Lisa, he sees his own look of surprise reflected on her face. “I hadn’t realized you two were okay again,” Lisa says.
“Yeah, we’ve made a few phone calls,” Anna says. “I mean, you two aren’t the only people I liked here in this town.”
Lisa laughs at this, and Castiel manages to laugh along. But he can feel the weight of Dean’s gaze resting on him again, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. He and Dean haven’t spoken since that morning in Castiel’s apartment, and even though they agreed to maintain the same relationship, Castiel still feels shaky on where they stand.
“Girls, you don’t mind if I uh, borrow Cas for a few minutes, do you?”
“Dean—” Castiel starts.
“Oh no, not at all,” Anna responds as Lisa answers, “Please, help yourself.”
“Thanks,” Dean says, and then he taps Castiel’s shoulder. “C’mon, Cas.”
Castiel shoots both of his friends betrayed looks as he gets to his feet. Lisa just smiles innocently at him, but Anna’s brow is furrowed, as though she’s worried about what’s about to happen.
Then Castiel’s walking out of the dim restaurant and into the sunlight. He blinks several times to let his eyes adjust to the relative brightness, and then a hand grabs his elbow and starts leading him away. Castiel lets Dean drag him a few steps before shaking his hand off and standing his ground.
“Dean, what are you doing?” he says.
Dean turns back to face him. And Castiel was careful not to look too closely at Dean’s face while they were still at the restaurant, but even from the glimpses he caught he can tell that Dean was putting on a calm face back there. Now, the mask is slipping. “When were you gonna tell me?” Dean asks.
And… what? That makes no sense.
“No, don’t give me that face, Cas. When—”
“What face, Dean? I’m not giving you a face,” Castiel says, irritated.
“The I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about face, Cas. You’re doing it right now,” Dean says.
“That’s because I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Castiel shoots back. “You can’t just drag me out of lunch with Anna and Lisa—which hey, you know that isn’t allowed, ever—and just ask me a question and expect me to know what you’re talking about.”
“Cas—”
“And you know you’re not supposed to interrupt,” Castiel says, frowning. “There’s a reason why we keep all our phones off, Dean. I’m sure I’ve brought this up with you before, so this had better be important.”
“It is important, Cas. Just—” Dean stops himself, and Castiel can tell he’s practically grinding his teeth.
“What’s wrong?” Castiel asks, a bit of concern dropping into his voice. Has something serious actually happened? “Is it about your father? Or Sam?”
Dean shakes his head. “No—no, they’re fine,” he says.
“Okay…” Castiel says, waiting for Dean to say something. But Dean just watches him helplessly, and what the hell is Castiel supposed to do with that? “Please tell me this isn’t about Balthazar.”
“No!” Castiel jerks back slightly at the vehemence of Dean’s denial, and Dean says, more mildly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—no. No, it’s not about him. Well, it’s a little bit about him. I… Cas…”
Castiel sighs. “I’m sort of in the middle of lunch, Dean. With Anna and Lisa, may I remind you again.”
“Right, sorry. I just…” Dean groans. “Fucking—should have thought of something to say on the way here,” he mutters.
“Yes, yes you should have,” Castiel agrees. After another uncomfortable silence, Castiel tries, “Do you want to do this later, when you’ve had time to—”
“Break up with Balthazar.”
Castiel blinks. Didn’t Dean just say that this didn’t have to do with Balthazar? “Um. Excuse me?”
“Shit,” Dean mutters, shaking his head.
“Surely I misheard,” Castiel continues, “but did you just declare that I’m not allowed to date Balthazar?”
“No, I didn’t mean it—well no. I did mean it, but… but not like that.”
“All right, then how did you mean it?”
Dean opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and he shuts it again, clenching his jaw. Exasperated, Castiel thrusts his hands up in the air. Normally, he wouldn’t have a problem being patient, waiting for Dean to get his words in order, but he can’t believe Dean would have the gall to just say that.
“Why, then? Why the sudden outburst?” Castiel asks.
“Cas.”
“Why do you—what makes you think you can decide whom I choose to spend my time with?"
“You love me,” Dean blurts out.
The denial is automatic, a knee-jerk response. “No, I don’t.”
“I know you do,” Dean says, and something inside Castiel is dying.
“No—Dean, I—”
“Cas, I know.”
And Castiel gets a hold of himself. “Okay, fine. I... love you.” Fuck, he’s gone and said it out loud now, and there’s no way he’s gonna be able to take it back, and okay no, maybe he doesn’t have a hold of himself yet, because he’s panicking, and everything’s spiraling out of control, and Dean knows, and this is all ending right before his eyes, like a car crash, and he can’t do anything to stop it.
He forces his thoughts to slow down, forces himself to focus his eyes on Dean, who for some reason looks… relieved? Oh, no. He probably only has this look on his face because he thinks Castiel’s going to do as he says—why else would he look so goddamned pleased?
“So,” Castiel says, and he can’t help the anger slipping into his voice, “you think I should stay with you and not Balthazar because you found out about my feelings for you.”
“Well, yes.”
Not because Dean returns those feelings, then. He’s just feeling possessive. “And why is that? Because you can’t stand that someone might actually want what you don’t?”
“Wait—what?”
Dean looks confused somehow, as though he doesn’t understand what Castiel’s saying, but Castiel can’t exactly slow down to elaborate, not when his thoughts are still pouring out of his mouth. “You find out about my feelings, and the first thing you think of is how this could benefit you, get rid of that pesky guy who occupies my time. Is that it?”
“No! Cas—how can you even think that?”
“Why wouldn’t I think that? It makes perfect sense. The first thing you told me was to break it off with Balthazar, and when it didn’t look like I would, you pulled the love card.”
“Cas, you fucker, that’s not what this is!”
Dean’s clearly angry now, but Castiel’s pissed too, so he goes on, “Okay, then tell me. What is this? Surely it’s not you trying to use my emotions to manipulate me.”
“No. Cas, this is me asking you to stay with me.”
This stops Castiel short. Stay with Dean. That can mean more than one thing.
There’s a possibility that Dean’s actually serious about Castiel. Naturally, then, he wouldn’t want Castiel to be seeing another man, and he’d ask Castiel to break up with Balthazar. But this is highly unlikely, seeing as he only expressed frustration at not being informed about the relationship, not about the existence of the relationship in the first place.
Next possibility, then. Dean doesn’t like it when Castiel’s time and attention is taken away from himself. The main demands on Castiel’s time are work, Dean, and Balthazar. So Dean would want to get rid of Balthazar, because he knows Castiel’s not quitting his job anytime soon. This is more likely than the first possibility but still not very likely, because Dean’s already denied it—though he could be lying.
And so there’s the last one. That Dean simply isn’t done with Castiel yet. He doesn’t have any deep, lasting feelings toward Castiel, but he isn’t ready to lose him to Balthazar—yet. This was Dean’s position regarding Anna several years ago, and looking at Dean now, it seems like the most probable choice.
So Castiel asks, “For how long?”
“What?” Dean says.
“For how long, Dean? How long before the day comes when you don’t want me anymore?”
“Cas, I wouldn’t…” Dean’s voice fades, and he looks frustrated, but he doesn’t continue. And his lack of response only serves to support Castiel’s theory.
“What? You wouldn’t what? You aren’t into commitment, so if anything, you wouldn’t stick around.”
“Don’t put words into my mouth, Cas,” Dean growls.
“Then use your goddamn words! Words are gonna have to come out of your mouth for this to work, and if you’re not gonna talk on your own, I’ll just fill in your side of the conversation.”
“Look—Cas, you said that you guys aren’t in a serious relationship. How hard can it be to end it?”
And now that he thinks about it, Castiel should have thought that answer through a bit more before he said it the other day, but he’d been caught off guard by the situation. It’s fine, though—he can fix it now. “I said that because it’s the truth, as far as I’m concerned,” he explains. “But he’s… more invested. He’s offered to move here to Lawrence, permanently.”
“And? So what?”
“So you should understand why I’m reluctant to give that up.”
“But Cas, I…”
“I’m not completely opposed to maintaining our… our relationship, within the same parameters as before. But you’re going to have to do a hell of a lot better than ‘Cas, I’ to—”
“How can you even ‘maintain our relationship’ anyway?” Dean cuts in. “Doesn’t it feel like cheating?”
“You and I are friends who sleep together on occasion, and we even agreed not to be exclusive, so no,” Castiel answers matter-of-factly. Of this, he is certain. And while Balthazar doesn’t like Dean’s existence, he’s obviously already accepted that Dean is a large part of Castiel’s life, at least for now.
“Fucking unbelievable. How is Balthazar okay with this?”
“He loves me.” It’s scary how Castiel can say that and feel the truth of it in his bones. Balthazar hasn’t even said that to him before, not those three words. But he’s shown it in his mannerisms, his choices, his persistence, the way he looks at Castiel… everything.
“Well, I—” Dean starts off strong, but his voice cuts off abruptly.
Castiel just watches him expectantly. “You…?” he prompts when Dean says nothing.
“Fuck it, forget it,” Dean spits, already turning to leave.
Castiel’s hand starts to lift as though it wants to grab Dean’s shoulder, keep him from leaving, but Castiel stops himself—let Dean go. He needs to let Dean go. It’ll be better for both of them, in the long run.
If only it didn’t hurt so fucking much right now.