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Art by the amazing and talented sketchydean
Castiel locked the door to Angel Cakes with a relieved sigh. This was the best part of the job, when the bakery was closed and his work began. He worked days mostly, but every Sunday he would work a nightshift, starting at eleven when the store closed, but staying till around nine or ten to make sure everything was done.
When he wasn’t here, he was sleeping or hurriedly grabbing something to eat on his way out of the door. It wasn’t much of a life, and he had very little time for socialising, but he was happy enough. Plus, the bakery was making a modest profit so he couldn’t complain. His sister Hannah and their cousin Balthazar handled the sales part, and left Castiel alone to do the baking.
It meant they weren’t eating the stock and that was just how he liked it.
It was quiet at night. Sometimes it was too quiet, left Castiel with a reminder of how lonely he was. He had nobody to go home to, although he was sure he could squeeze in time for dating if he could just work out how to meet someone. But talking to people wasn’t really his speciality.
He turned on the radio to fill the crackling silence as he set to work on some muffins. Aside from the bread, they took the longest, with the many different varieties, and they were by far the most popular item at the moment. Castiel privately agreed, he particularly loved the chocolate and cherry muffins, but for some reason the apple pie flavour sold the most. They had started as an experiment, a cinnamon muffin with apple pie filling and glazed with vanilla maple syrup.
They flew off the shelves every day.
Humming softly as he worked, Castiel only glanced up on his fourth batch of muffins (peanut butter, chocolate and banana), when the back door pushed open to reveal Sam.
“Hello, Sam,” he greeted warmly, lowering his gaze again to stir in the chocolate chips. “If you could start on the cinnamon rolls, that would be very helpful.”
Sam was his oldest friend, and came to help out at the bakery on Castiel’s night shift. At first Castiel felt bad that Sam was forced to adhere to a night schedule, but he got over it when Sam pointed out that he rarely slept because he was so stressed from law school, that he might as well use that time productively to help Castiel out.
Still, Castiel refused to let him help out during finals, for his own peace of mind if nothing else.
“Sure thing, Cas. Oh, and this is my brother Dean, who I was telling you about.”
Castiel’s head snapped up to see that there really was someone else there. He was just a little shorter than Sam and probably the most beautiful man Castiel had ever seen. Dropping his spoon, Castiel flushed as he hurried over, reaching for Dean’s hand and shaking it quickly.
“I’m so sorry, I was so caught up in muffins I didn’t see you. It’s very nice to meet you, Dean, Sam has told me lots about you.”
When Dean just stared at him blankly, Castiel let his hand slip away, looking to Sam out of confusion.
“Ah, you’re going to need to speak a little slower than that,” Sam explained, awkwardly. “Dean’s been deaf for about ten years now.”
He turned to his brother and his hands flew in a serious of quick gestures, translating everything Castiel had just said. Feeling a little mortified that he hadn’t even known Dean was deaf, Castiel was relieved when his timer rang and he hurried to get the chocolate and cherry muffins from the oven, setting them next to the finished apple pie ones.
When he felt someone come up behind him, he turned abruptly, flushing more when Dean leaned past him, raising an eyebrow at the muffins.
“Chocolate and cherry, and apple pie.” Castiel made sure he was facing Dean, speaking slowly but not condescendingly so. He tilted his head curiously as Dean’s eyes widened at the mention of apple pie and he leaned in for a sniff.
Cinnamon, he mouthed, signing a word rapidly.
Castiel took stock of it and nodded, smiling softly. “And vanilla maple syrup.” He paused, before plucking a muffin from the tray and pressing it into Dean’s hand. “Here.”
Sam choked. “What the hell, Cas? I’ve been coming here and helping out for years and you’ve never even let me lick a damn spoon.”
“Because that’s unhygienic and disgusting,” Castiel shot back. “And because you’ve never pulled that face about something I’ve made.” He gave Dean a warm smile and turned to get back on with his baking.
Dean didn’t eat the muffin right away, just set it down like it was a precious gem and set about helping Sam. It was obvious Dean knew his way around a kitchen and only stopped when he wasn’t sure about the recipe. Communicating was a lot easier than Castiel had anticipated, given that Dean could lip read and Sam could translate any ASL from Dean. Still, Castiel tried hard to follow Dean’s gestures, wanting to be respectful.
Over the course of the night he found out that Dean had just moved here a few days ago, planning to set up his own auto shop. He was a very skilled engineer, but his passion lay with cars. Castiel found out that Dean had held a love of classic rock music before he lost his hearing, and still drummed out the beats to Led Zeppelin songs with his fingers when he was distracted.
They stayed until just before three, when Dean yawned and Castiel all but pushed them out of the door, making sure Dean had his muffin. He ensured to meet Dean’s eyes and tell him that it was nice meeting him, earning him a wink and a wide smile from the man in question, before the door closed and he leaned against it.
Oh man. Sam’s brother was hot.
He was officially screwed.
Castiel chalked it down to sexual frustration as it was the closest he’d been to a guy he was attracted to in weeks. Months even. He told himself he probably wouldn’t even see Dean again, since he would be too busy with his autoshop to come back to the bakery in the middle of the night.
He decided he was right when Sam came back alone the next week. He pointedly didn’t ask where Dean was, but instead waited until they were working on a batch of eclairs to casually bring up Sam’s brother in the conversation.
“How is Dean settling in?” He asked, turning to the oven to check on the latest batch of rolls. “And the autoshop? Is that coming along well?”
Sam smirked, but didn’t comment on Castiel’s curiosity. “He’s doing good. A little snowed under with getting the autoshop up and ready, you know? He asked me to apologise on his behalf that he couldn’t make it tonight, but he’ll definitely tag along with me next week.”
Castiel’s cheeks flushed, but luckily he could blame it on the heat from the oven. Maybe he wasn’t being as subtle as he thought he was where Dean was concerned. Still, he couldn’t help it if Sam’s brother happened to be the most gorgeous man in existence, could he?
“Will you teach me to sign?” He blurted out, still unable to turn around and look at Sam. “So I can talk to him without you as a translator. I mean, I … I’m not expecting to become fluent after a few signs, but … I’d like to learn a few things. Like how to thank him for helping me out here.”
When Castiel risked a glance at Sam, he noticed his friend looking unnecessarily pleased by that. He supposed a lot of people would just expect Sam to pass on the message, without bothering to make the effort to speak to Dean. Castiel privately thought that would be very lonely. When Sam nodded, Castiel set a timer and settled down so Sam could teach him a few basic signs. He learned how to say a few basic phrases and at his own request ‘how was the muffin?’. He wanted to find out Dean’s opinion from his own words when he asked, not distorted through Sam’s translation.
He was satisfied by the time Sam left, repeating the signs to himself a few times over the night just to make sure he remembered them by the next time Dean came in. He had a whole week to make sure he got them right. Assuming, of course, that Dean did actually come back with Sam.
It was a pleasant surprise, then, when the back door opened the next week to reveal Dean and Sam. Castiel couldn’t help the way his face lit up at the sight of Dean and he hurriedly reached up to sign hello. The gesture itself was almost like an informal salute, but the look of surprise and happiness on Dean’s face when he registered and returned the gesture was enough to make Castiel grin widely.
Emboldened by his gesture, he greeted Sam briefly without taking his eyes off Dean. His hands came up to sign a question asking if Dean had enjoyed the muffin. He held his breath as he waited for the reply, even knowing he would need Sam to translate this one. For some reason, he was so hung up on Dean’s opinion, even though the muffins had been selling out for weeks.
“He said it was really good,” Sam assured him.
Castiel softened, reaching out to touch under his chin and flicking out his hand in an attempt to thank Dean for the compliment.
He didn’t expect Dean to look so taken aback, or for him to quickly sign another gesture. Sam, who had already stopped paying attention, was forced to turn back to translate once again.
“Huh? Oh. He also says it was the best muffin he’d ever had.”
Castiel repeated the earlier gesture carefully, and Sam snorted as he saw it, shaking his head.
“Cas, that’s not the right sign. This is ‘thank you’.” Sam touched his hand to his lips and pulled it away, almost like blowing a kiss without the pout.
Flushing, Castiel repeated the gesture, seeing realisation dawn on Dean’s face as he started to laugh. Still embarrassed, Castiel tentatively wondered aloud what he’d said instead.
“Uh, well… you kinda said ‘fuck you’,” Sam chuckled.
Castiel immediately buried his face in his hands, letting out a long groan. “Oh God. Just go away, and let me die of humiliation in peace.” He moaned, knowing he’d just made a total ass out of himself in front of the object of his crush. Perfect.
This was exactly why he didn’t get dates.
He didn’t look up until strong hands circled around his wrists and tugged his hands away from his face. Swallowing, still blushing, he met Dean’s kindly expression. It only served to embarrass him further and he averted his eyes. It didn’t seem to deter Dean, however, because he ducked his head into Castiel’s line of sight and smiled.
“It’s okay,” he spoke slowly, quietly, squeezing Castiel’s wrist. “It’s an easy mistake to make. Thank you for learning. Not many people do that for me, they just get Sammy to sign.”
His voice was rough from a lack of use. Even without looking over Dean’s shoulder at Sam’s stunned expression, Castiel got the impression that Dean didn’t speak out loud often. He was touched at the gesture and smiled in return, nodding to show he understand.
“Thank you. And I’m glad you enjoyed the muffin.”
Castiel got back to work, working on the next batch of cookies. His cheeks were still flushed red, but he felt a little better, and opted to let Dean lip read for the rest of the night, not willing to make an idiot of himself again by making another mistake.
When Dean left, Castiel immediately pulled out his cell phone to check for any nearby ASL courses. There was one on Monday mornings at 9am. Castiel bit his lip, because that would cut into the end of his nightshift. In theory, he could get all the baking done in enough time to go, but he would have to come in earlier, and then sit through the class before he had any sleep.
There wasn’t a decision to make. Castiel enrolled himself on the course before going back to work.
It was disheartening, to find out that ASL was no easier than learning any other language. To achieve a fluency where talking to Dean in ASL would be as natural as speaking English would take years. Castiel didn’t falter, however, and turned up to the class week after week. He practiced at home, using his laptop to ensure he was getting everything right. Castiel could spell out any words he didn’t know using the alphabet without thinking now.
Dean started coming to the bakery frequently once the autoshop opened, spending his lunch break with his fingers clutched around a coffee and eating a grilled cheese with extra bacon. He always had his order down on a piece of paper, which he handed to Anna, and a brief message at the bottom asking if Castiel was around.
Castiel assumed it was because Dean was new to town and didn’t know anyone else, so he always came out of the back to spend Dean’s break with him, talking with him about the newest episode of whatever Dean was watching at the time. Apparently, subtitles were a marvellous invention and allowed Dean to binge-watch Netflix just like any other person.
Every day, Dean suggested Castiel add some kind of pie to their menu, and every day, Castiel laughed and told him that there was no demand for it.
This happened for months. Dean would come in every day and help out for a few hours during the Sunday nightshift. Likewise, Castiel would hang out with Sam once or twice a week, and Sam would help out during the nightshift too, always ready to translate any conversation between Castiel and Dean.
“Is Dean having problems settling in town?” Castiel asked, one Wednesday night, when he and Sam were having a few drinks.
Sam frowned, shaking his head once he drained his glass. “No? He’s settled in great, he’s out tonight with a few guys from the autoshop, Benny and Victor. Business is going well for him; he always has work. Why do you ask?”
Castiel flushed. “I just figured he was lonely – he always asks for me at the bakery on his lunch break. I thought he just didn’t know anyone else…” he finished lamely.
Laughing, Sam gestured for the bartender to refill their drinks, smiling patiently at Castiel. “No offence, Cas, but you’re kind of an idiot. Dean spends time with you because he’s pretty hung up on you. Ever since you learned a few phrases of sign language for him, he hasn’t even tried to score a date. It’s just ‘Cas this’, and ‘Cas that’.”
Castiel stared at him with wide eyes, and Sam faltered, eyeing his friend in sympathy. “You honestly had no idea?”
Shaking his head, Castiel reached for the new drink in front of him and draining it with a gulp. His hands were shaking, blood pounding in his head. Was that true? Dean had a crush on him too?
“No. Why hasn’t he said anything?” He said hoarsely, clearing his throat to try and lose the raspy tone.
Sam shrugged. “Hell if I know. He’s probably unsure of your feelings, because you stopped signing after that.”
Castiel bit his lip. He hadn’t told anyone about the ASL class, but he trusted Sam not to laugh at him over his feelings now, particularly if it was true that Dean felt the same. “I... I wanted to wait until I was better at it. I’ve been taking an ASL course on Monday mornings for weeks now. It’ll take me years to be fluent, but Dean just looked so happy when I… yeah.” He muttered, lowering his gaze to his empty glass.
Sam’s hand on his shoulder made him look up again. “Cas, nobody has ever done anything like that for Dean. If you tell him, he’ll think you’re a literal angel.” He shook his head in disbelief and pride. “Refill?”
“No, thanks. I better go, if I’m lucky I can get about six hours before I have to get to work.”
Sam’s words played over and over in his mind, and Castiel didn’t get as much sleep as he was hoping to. Fortunately, caffeine was readily available and kept him focused all morning, even though in the back of his mind, all he could think about was that Dean felt the same about him.
When Dean pushed open the door to the bakery at exactly five minutes after one on Thursday, Castiel was ready. He smiled as he swept out of the back, setting down Dean’s lunch, made fresh, perching beside him with his own coffee.
Dean laughed, delighted with Castiel’s foresight and winked at him, before blowing him a kiss. Castiel’s heart stopped for a moment, before he realised that Dean was simply signing his thanks. Castiel smiled softly, inclining his head, waiting with Dean until he finished his lunch and taking his plate.
Wait a minute. Castiel signed the gesture, wiggling his fingers and then pointing. He could see Dean blink at the sign, before lazily agreeing.
Disappearing into the back, Castiel picked up the slice of apple pie he had ready prepared. Oh God, he was about to make a complete fool of himself, he knew it. Taking a deep breath, Castiel pushed open the door and set the plate in front of Dean.
Waiting until Dean looked between the pie and him, Castiel signed one simple sentence to explain all.
I made this for you.
He watched Dean’s jaw drop, the subsequent swallow. Emboldened, Castiel continued, signing some phrases he’d specifically learned for this scenario.
I’m taking a course on Mondays to learn to speak to you. I want to be able to have a conversation with you where we can both talk, instead of just me.
Castiel didn’t get to finish his speech. Before he could start the next sentence, a pair of rough, calloused hands were framing his face and warm lips were descending on his own.
This was one kind of communication they didn’t need sign language for.
Both were fluent in the language of love.