Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is a mistake. He should just turn around and leave, drive the 10 or so hours back to Chicago, and just forget about this stupid idea he had of coming back to Lawrence, Kansas, of coming back home.

Castiel isn't a coward anymore, he doesn’t shy away from adversary, oh, no, he stands proud and tall in the face of it, puffs up his chest, and states his ground. He doesn’t hide in a broom closet, doesn’t run crying home to mommy, and doesn’t bite his nails whenever he feels panic creeping up on him…

But right now, he is scared, nervous, and his entire body is so on edge that he is forced to pull the car over twice because it feels like his chest is on fire, like he is suffocating. The only difference between now and then, when Castiel was a pathetic, frightened little kid, is that now there's no broom closet to sneak into, no more self-harm of any kind (a coping- mechanism which took him years to overcome), there is also no mommy to run to, for quite a while actually.

Castiel's parents are officially deceased, caput, gone six feet under, though they've been somewhat dead to him for the past 10 years. They both passed away within three days of one another, both of supposed natural causes, forever faithful to each other, entangled in both life and death.

Castiel is driving home to attend their funeral. Somehow, his older brother Gabriel had convinced him, about a week ago over the phone, to meet with him there. Gabe was flying over from Barcelona, where he's been living for the past eight years, so Castiel could try and make an effort to drive from fucking Chicago (were Gabe's words).

For some reason, it worked, and Castiel agreed to pay his parents one final respect. The plan was to meet up with Gabe at their parents' house, make it through the memorial service while avoiding a bunch of gossip-ridden aunts, then head back home as quickly and as pain free as possible. That was the plan, and it had been a good one, at least until his parents' lawyer called.

His folks weren’t rich, but they did have some savings, a car, and there was the house. A two-story colonial which Castiel and his siblings Gabe and Anna grew up in. According to the attorney, the money was to be divided equally between him and Gabe, since Anna had been dead for many years, but the house was left for Castiel alone.

He'd never owned a house before. When Castiel fled Lawrence, he moved from one shitty apartment to another. The closest he ever got to having anything resembling a front lawn and a picket fence arrangement was his current apartment, which he shared with his roommate and best friend, Meg. Their two-bedroom studio had a small balcony with a couple of flower planters and a miniature Bonsai tree. Castiel considered it his little piece of urban paradise.

He remembers himself as a kid, running across freshly cut grass in nothing but a pair of shorts, throwing water balloons at his siblings, and getting spritzed by the sprinklers during the summer. He even had a tree house in the backyard where he used to plan journeys to the center of the earth, or conduct secret missions to distant planets. Castiel spent hours on that tree, huddled on a green beanbag, sketching maps and diagrams leading to hidden treasures.

Sometimes, Gabe and his friends would play ball on the yard below, and would throw small pebbles in through the window for Castiel to try and catch. Other times, his mother brought over hot cacao and blueberry muffins, and delivered it through a small pull-up basket his father had installed.

Castiel feels weird recalling all those funny, cheerful memories, especially since they were often tarnished by sad ones, awful ones, the ones that made Castiel leave Lawrence all those years ago, in the hopes never to return again. Castiel is heading for a place that was once his sanctuary, then his own private hell, and is now a kind of an in between, a space where the good and especially the bad co-exists so potently.

Castiel left Lawrence a frightened, clueless, 19-year-old teen, with enough emotional trauma to last him a lifetime, and a couple of ambiguous dreams, but he is returning a 29-year-old man, no longer naïve, no longer afraid.

In the years since he moved to Chicago, Castiel made a name for himself as a well accomplish archeologist. He participated in a number of expeditions, mainly into the northern parts of Russia, Denmark, and Norway, where he studied and uncovered Viking remains. It had been one of the most exciting moments of his life when he uncovered an Iron Age axe mostly intact, with rune carvings on the handle. It was also where he met Meg, who was a fellow historian who also lived in Chicago.

The first thing she did was try and get him in bed, batting her thick dark eyelashes at him and complementing his ass whenever she had the chance. Castiel made it clear that he wasn’t interested, and was in fact gay, but Meg continued to woo him. Pretty soon, it became a kind of an inner joke, where Meg would try and seduce Castiel in creative, preposterous ways, and he would turn her down using various ridiculous excuses.

By the time they got back to Chicago, they were already close friends who knew everything about each other's past. When Castiel broke up with his then boyfriend, Michael, it felt only natural for him to move in with Meg, where he lived up until about a week ago, when his aunt Amara called to let him know his parents were dead.

Working as a professor meant Castiel had a steady job, but it certainly didn’t mean he had money to spare, and living in the city wasn’t cheap. He had some reserves, and Gaberiel helped on occasion, but it had been a continuous struggle, especially since Castiel refused again and again to accept any monetary support from his parents.

Just a week before his aunt called, Castiel was thinking about selling his old car in an attempt to save some cash, and suddenly, he owned a house, and had received a relatively generous, albeit not life-changing, sum. His parent's only request was that he moves back into the house for at least one year before he was allowed to sell the property. It was an unusual condition, but the lawyer was insistent that if Castiel doesn’t follow it, the house would go to Amara instead.

Now, Castiel liked Amara, but he was also not stupid enough to give up a free real-estate, and it was his childhood home after all. So after much deliberation, mainly consorting back and forth with Meg, he decided to go for it and return to Lawrence. He could use the change in scenery for sure, even if going back to a place that used to regularly occupy his nightmares meant having to conjure up at least a couple of old demons.

Within a week, Castiel had miraculously managed to get a job at the local history museum, sell most of his belongings (and leave some for Meg), and find a roommate to replace him once he moves out of their current apartment. He had offered Meg to join him, but she was a city girl, and refused to be stranded in some 'god forsaken hillbilly town' (her words, not his).

So here he is, driving the last few miles into Lawrence, his hometown, a place that was once recognizable but is now unknown. As he passes the sign stating the city's name and population, Castiel feels a tightening around his chest area, and his heart starts beating fast. There is still a lot of unprocessed distress related to this place, and despite many years of psychological treatment and self-exploration, Castiel knows it's not going to be easy.

He isn’t in danger of getting beat up, being made fun of, or bullied anymore. Castiel makes sure to work out regularly, and even trains in Krav-Maga, so any person attempting to assault him now is going to have a hard time doing so. The danger is a more sentimental one, like an old scar turning sore during winter. Castiel's heart is preparing itself, arming itself in case of once again being trampled on, or broken.

****

"The house is in good shape, just a little rough around the edges", his aunt Amara explains when she meets him in the driveway of his parents' house. It looks much the same from the outside as it did when Castiel was little, simple grey beams with white framed windows, but the lawn is slightly unattended to, and the front porch wood shows some cracklings.

Amara is a well-preserved 60-year-old woman, his father's younger sister, who lives across town with her husband and their two Siamese cats. When Castiel ran away, Amara often called him and attempted to convince him to come back, saying that he was causing his parents grief and neglecting his family, but she never once asked him how he was doing, or tried to understand the reasons why he decided to leave, and for that, Castiel never truly forgave her.

Right now, he is giving her his courteous, professional version, humming, and nodding and keeping his emotional responses to a minimum. It’s a system he developed in order to handle more demanding, aggressive students, acknowledging what they had to say without promising too much in return, and so far, it served him quite well.

"The upstairs bedrooms are mainly used for storage now, but if you want you can turn them into a nursery or a playroom, although Gabe told me you had no children, or a wife…" Amara says sourly as he follows her around the house, on a self-proclaimed tour she decided he needed. He ignores her attempt at provoking a response out of him, and replies with another short hum. The tour ends in the kitchen, where Amara had already organized an assortment of snacks and beverages for guests who decide to stop by after the funeral.

Castiel really doesn’t want to be a part of all this. He wants to grieve his estranged parents in his own way, alone, but feels like he has no say on the matter. He looks out the kitchen window and into the neighboring house, a lovely yellow colored townhouse, where a beautiful apple tree marks the border between the two yards.

He wonders if the family next door is still the one that used to live there when he was a kid. He was good friends with Sam Winchester, who was the same age as Castiel and sometimes played with him in his tree house. Sam was smart and funny, and never participated when other kids made fun of him or harassed him.

His brother Dean, however, who was four years older than them, was an entirely different story. Dean and his then posse, Crowley, Bart, and Cole, used to make fun of Castiel constantly, targeting his affinity for reading books and being extremely shy. They would smack him on the nose and break his glasses, or grab his backpack and tear at the books he used to borrow from the school library. The librarian, Mrs. Butters, was never upset when he returned a damaged or torn up book, but Castiel always felt ashamed of it, nonetheless.

Dean wasn’t actually the one to cause Castiel any harm, but he never stopped his friends from doing so, and sometimes he laughed when they made jokes about how Castiel was so scrawny and weak that if a bus ran him over it wouldn’t make much difference. They weren’t the only ones to make Castiel's life miserable, but he certainly remembered them.

Castiel knew he was an easy target, and would often lie when being asked why he looked a mess, or why his glasses were broken. He never told his teachers about the abuse he was suffering, and was never offered help from anyone other than his brother Gabe, who often ditched school and wasn’t there to provide Castiel with a sense of real security.

Castiel's thoughts are cut off by a familiar voice coming from the hallway. The undistinctive flamboyant sound of Gabe. His brother flew over leaving his nice penthouse overlooking the ocean and his model girlfriend, Kali, and came to spend some time with his younger brother. Gabe was into real estate, and wasn’t exactly rich or successful, but he for sure made it look like that was the case.

Gabe always wore designer clothes, dated hot women, and drove extravagant cars, and on the single occasion when Castiel went to visit him in Sapin, he insisted upon taking him only to fancy, Michelin starred restaurants. Gabe always made fun of Castiel's boring wardrobe, which consisted mainly of dull-colored pant suits, white dress shirts, and a T-shirt and khakis whenever he would go out on digging expeditions.

"Where's my quirky little brother?" Castiel hears him call, and a moment later Gabe steps into the kitchen wearing a cotton turquoise suit and a shirt that is open to reveal a somewhat hairy chest. Gabe maybe older, but is shorter than Castiel, and lacks muscle tone. He does have a large ego and a quick-witted mouth to make up for it though. People instantly have an opinion on him, either loving or hating him, which is more than Castiel can say for himself. He is mostly just ignored, and he usually prefers it that way.

"I'm right here, Gabe" Castiel calls, spreading his arms to welcome his brother's hug. It had been a long time since they saw each other in person, despite speaking on the phone at least every few months or so, and Gaberiel looks older, tanner, but just as mischievous as ever.

After Anna died, he and Gabe had grown closer to one another. Castiel was 11 and Gabe was 16, but somehow they found solace in each other, almost like they realized it was all they had left now. Anna was ten years older than Castiel, and about to attend college when a drunk driver took her away. It was devastating, losing his sweet and kind older sister, but Castiel was still a young boy, never fully realizing just how much her death is going to change his family, and not for good.

His usually fun loving, cheerful parents grew detached, cold, and even stricter than before. Gabe was acting out and eventually quit school all together. He and Castiel's father used to shout at each other all the time, which usually ended with Gabe leaving the house and disappearing for long periods of time. There was no room for Castiel and his problems, no one to give him some advice on how to deal with people bullying him, no one to comfort him when they did.

It was the loneliest he's ever been, a terrible time that left him fractured and untrusting of others. It was also when he discovered he was attracted to men, which made everything even more difficult. Castiel's parents never spoke to him about those kinds of things, and Gabe only showed him porn on occasion, but it was always heterosexual, and Castiel couldn’t figure out why he never got turned on from watching lesbian porn, and why his body only reacted when there was a guy involved.

When he was fifteen, he fell in love with one of his classmates, a popular guy named Gad. He used to fantasize about Gad kissing him, touching him, rubbing his slight stubble against Castiel's then smooth cheek. He wrote poems to Gad confessing his undying devotion, calling Gad his knight in shining armor (it was around the time he read the King Arthur legends which inspired some of his most melodramatic fantasies).

One day a girl from his class named Lilith, who used to bully Castiel all the time, snatched a note from his hand during lunch break. It was a poem he'd written the day before, dedicated to Gad, pleading Gad to take him far away, to a place where the two of them could live together happily ever after without fear. Castiel stared in horror while Lilith read the poem out loud in front of the other students sitting in the classroom (it was raining outside).

They all laughed and pointed their fingers at him, even Gad laughed and made a disgusted face when his name was mentioned. Castiel wanted to die. He grabbed his things and ran out into the hallway, locking himself in one of the supply closets and crying until he had no more tears to shed. It was then that he decided that on the first chance possible, he was going to leave this hellhole, and find a place where he would be accepted, where he wouldn’t have to hide what he was and who he loved.

"Earth to Cassie" Gabe calls, bringing his attention back to the present, to standing in his old childhood home while his brother and aunt stares at him, somewhat concerned.

"Are you all right, Castiel?" Amara asks, reaching to touch his forehead to check his temperature, but Castiel flinches away from her, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, just tired, I've had a long drive and I need to shower and rest."

"I prepared the main guestroom, Anna's room" Amara says. "There's an ensuite bathroom attached to it so I figured you'd prefer staying there for now."

"Thank you, Amara, I think I'll just go freshen up. What time do we need to be at the cemetery?"

"Four pm, that's… three... four hours from now" Gabe says, checking his golden Rolex. "I'll head back to my hotel and come pick you up, bro?"

"Yes, Gabe, thank you" Castiel replies. His brother refused to stay in their parent's house, and chose to book a hotel downtown instead. He is only there for the funeral, and has an early flight back in the morning. Castiel wishes he could stay longer, maybe assist him with figuring out how to settle back in, but Gabe is even more bothered than he is about their family house, and refuses to be there more than necessary.

Castiel thanks Amara for taking care of the burial arrangements, and after she leaves with Gabe he locks the front door and turns around, leaning against it with a sigh. He is stuck in a town that is no longer his town, in a house that is no longer his house, but he still needs to make this work, move forward, start anew.

Castiel already did it once when he moved to Chicago, a wide-eyed, scared young man, with little money and big dreams. How hard could it be doing it all over again? He'll just have to wait and see.

****

Anna's room looks different than what Castiel remembered it to be. Instead of band posters, the walls are now painted pale lavender. The writing desk is the same one Anna used when she studied for her SAT's, and the white chest of drawers with the flower knobs is also hers, but the bed is new, a double instead of a single, and Anna's collection of records and dolls is nowhere to be seen.

It's clean at least. His mother had always kept a tidy household. Castiel remembers how she used to dust the higher shelves with a fluffy feathered stick, then tickle him with it until he would sneeze and giggle, running away while she chased him down the corridor.

He refrains from entering his old room, which is located at the end of the hallway, right next to Gabe's room. His parent's room is on the first floor, and he is definitely not going in there, at least not now.

Castiel places his duffle bag on the bed. He has several more bags and boxes full of clothes and personal stuff in his car, and Meg promised to ship the rest over mail, but it could all wait until after the funeral. He prepares a fresh set of clothes, a dark suit, and a simple white shirt with a dark blue tie, and lays them on the bed.

Castiel starts pulling off his shoes and socks, tossing them aside and reminding himself to look for a laundry bag, and as he turns to face the large window overlooking the Winchester's house, unbuckling his belt as he goes, Castiel freezes in his tracks.

Someone is looking at him through the window just across the yard, a girl, no more than 10. She has bright hair from what he can tell, and she smiles at him as if he wasn’t just about to strip naked in front of her. Horrified, Castiel moves quickly to close the curtains, sighing in relief for taking his time undressing.

Whoever the girl is, she seems curious about her new neighbor, and Castiel takes a mental note to make sure all windows and curtains are accounted for next time he wants to take a shower.

He finishes undressing and steps into the small standing shower, turning the hot water on and waiting until it is warm enough to wash under. He has a compact bottle of shampoo and a bar of soup he brough along with him, but he knows sometime soon, he's going to have to do some grocery shopping.

Back in Chicago, he and Meg used to go shopping together. Everything was at a walking distance, so every two weeks or so they would take the time and visit the farmer's market for some vegetables, then go to the local supermarket and buy the frozen and dry ingredients.

Meg loved cooking but Castiel was terrible at it, so she was usually the one in charge of meal prep while he would be left doing the dishes. It worked well for them, and Castiel feels a wave of sadness washing over him when he thinks about the life and people he left behind.

Castiel leathers his body hurriedly, then rinses away the soap. He decides against shaving because for some silly reason he feels like his stubble could serve as a kind of shield against what's to come. He dries himself off with a towel he finds under the sink, then wraps it loosely around his waist, deciding to explore a little until he's dry enough to get dressed again.

He strolls across the second-floor corridor, stopping to look at old family photos that hang on the wall. There are his father and mother on their wedding day, looking innocently happy, and there is young Gabe and a teenage Anna, sitting under a tree in the backyard with Gabe sticking his tongue out at the camera. The next photo is of baby Castiel in a diaper, smiling toothlessly, held in his mother's embrace.

It is like watching someone else's life. It seems so far away, out of context, like unearthing an archeological relic and trying to regain a sense of time and place. All he has is speculations, hints of how things felt like, because most of the people in these photos are gone by now, nothing more than a memory.

It is the first time since he learned of his parents' demise that Castiel feels like he is about to start crying. He wipes some moisture from the corner of his eye and onto the cloth, then heads back to Anna's room to get rid of the towel and pull on a pair of boxer shorts.

The house is relatively warm, so Castiel stays in his underwear until it is time to get ready for the ceremony. He makes his way back into the kitchen, making sure to pull on the window curtain just in case more nosy neighbors wanted a peek. He opens up the fridge and pulls out a bottle of mineral water, chugging it down in one gulp. He didn’t even realize how thirsty he is up until now.

He looks back inside the fridge for something to nibble on, when suddenly there is a knock at the front door. Castiel freezes, unsure what to do. He could just ignore whoever it is and pretend like no one is home, but what if it's important, what if someone already knows he's here?

Reluctantly, he moves into the hallway and peers through the eyepiece. A handsome looking man in his thirties, with broad shoulders and sandy blond hair, wearing a red and black plaid t-shirt, stands on the porch. Castiel doesn’t recognized his face, but he seems harmless, and well, Castiel is just too curious to resist, so he opens the door gingerly, well aware of the fact that he is mostly naked, hair still damp from the shower.

The man, who is even more striking up close, with a face covered in freckles and a pair of pouty red lips, stares at him in shock. He blinks once, twice, opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. Castiel glares back. He is only human, and the guy is a masterpiece of bursting masculinity after all.

The man clears his throat, forest green eyes doing a quick up and down scan of Castiel's body, but are soon everted down as blush creeps up his cheeks. He looks familiar somehow, but Castiel can’t quite put his finger on it.

Castiel knows he looks good. He was done feeling ashamed of his body long time ago, and is even somewhat of an exhibitionist ever since Meg came into his life with her shameless attitude, so he isn’t surprised by the guy's reaction, although everything about him screams 'A stereotypically heterosexual white male'.

"Can I help you?" Castiel asks as the man continues to stand there, seemingly unable to speak.

It seems to do the trick, and the guy shakes his head and looks back at Castiel, focusing on his eyes. "Umm… hey, I'm… well, I wanted to let you know that if… well, if you need anything, you know, for the funeral, then… um, I'm here for… you know", he mumbles, and Castiel struggles not to laugh. He clearly caught the man off guard with his nakedness, and probably made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Thank you", Castiel says, scratching his chest absentmindedly. It is rather cold outside, and his nipples are obscenely perky at this point. The movement seems to draw the man's gaze back to his exposed torso, and he blushes even more, pink hues tainting his freckled cheeks and even reaching his ears. It is kind of adorable, and Castiel secretly wishes to know if there are other areas of his body that flush this beautifully. "But, if you don’t mind me asking, who the hell are you?"

The guy chuckles, a rich sounding, guttural laugh. "How stupid of me, forgot to introduce myself… I kinda figured you'd recognize me…"

"Oh" Castiel says, "I'm sorry, I don’t…"

"It's Dean, Dean Winchester, we used to be neighbors, still are actually…" he says, smiling, but Castiel is already taking a step back, alarmed. Dean appears friendly enough, if a bit discomfited, but all Castiel can think about is him as a kid standing there, laughing viciously while his friend Crowley threw every single item Castiel had in his Transformers backpack on the ground then stomped on it.

Castiel swallows around the lump in his throat and starts a slow retreat back into the house.

"Thank you, but I’m perfectly fine, see you at the funeral", he mumbles, then shuts the door in Dean's face and locks it. He is breathing heavily and fighting back rising panic, attempting to calm himself down through breathing exercises. By the time he gains enough courage to peer into the eyepiece again, Dean is already gone.

****

Castiel should have stayed in Chicago, he should have known coming here was going to reopen old wounds and stir up his usually calm and collected character, achieved through years of working through his trauma. Sure, Castiel is nowhere near past methods of handling his distresses, which included self-harm and plenty of recreational drug use, but it is still difficult facing these memories, and especially the people that were once a part of them.

The cemetery is packed full of family members, townsfolk, and acquaintances of his parents. His father Chuck was a war veteran who also volunteered at the local wildlife reservoir following his retirement, and there are a lot of people who knew and respected him, and wanted to speak of his gentleness and wisdom. Castiel's impression of his father far differed from theirs.

His mother, Naomi, was a housewife for most her life, and didn’t socialize much, especially after Anna's death, but Castiel recognizes some of her book club members, now extremely old and wrinkly, as well as her sisters Duma and Hannah.

Thankfully, most people don’t recognize him, which allows him to sort of blend in amongst the crowd in an attempt to make himself invisible. He doesn’t want to be questioned about his life, his job, or his current relationship status. These people are strangers to him, and Castiel does everything he possibly can to keep his distance.

He stands next to Gabe, who decided to honor the occasion by switching into a mellower colored grey suit (but still had a neon lime green tie on). It's raining, and Castiel has his tan trench coat over his suit, but is still feeling the cold, unsure if it's due to the weather or just his uneasy emotions. He wishes Meg was here, she would have known how to cheer him up, make him feel like none of this had any effect on him.

Halfway through the ceremony he scans the crowd of umbrellas around him, and his eyes land on Dean Winchester. The guy is looking directly at him with an unreadable expression, and seems embarrassed when Castiel catches him staring, quickly everting his gaze elsewhere. It seems that their previous encounter has left Dean somewhat intrigued, but Castiel has no intention of encouraging the man to contact him any further, despite the fact that Dean is extremely good-looking and practically ticking all of Castiel's boxes for what he considers desirable.

Thankfully, the ceremony is soon over, and he gets into Gabe's rental car along with Amara, to head back to the house. He knows it's going to be awhile before he can finally be alone again, so he takes a deep breath and braces himself for his next challenge.

As predicted, his parents' house is swarming with people, many of which bring over casseroles and salads. Some sit on the living room couch, some gossip in the kitchen, or hang around the roofed porch, he even catches a couple of old friends of his father' examining the vast library in the study.

About an hour later, after being interrogated by at least five or six different people, Castiel is officially done. He wants everyone out, wants to run and hide someplace quiet, but there is nowhere to go.

Gabe seems to enjoy the attention, telling tales of his business endeavors in Spain, and offering a variety of holiday rentals to the townsfolk. When nobody is watching, Castiel smuggles a slice of blueberry pie from the kitchen, and sneaks out into the backyard.

The rain has stopped, but the sky is still dark and cloudy, which makes everything feel a bit apocalyptic. Castiel makes his way over to the treehouse, delighted to find it still intact, and in surprisingly good condition. It seems as though the old rope ladder had been replaced by huge chunks of wood that are nailed to the trunk, and there are also new reinforcement beams around the old structure. It is weird considering the fact that his parents had no grandchildren. Perhaps his father wanted to keep it in good shape for memory's sake.

Castiel climbs up the ladder easily, and pulls aside the green hanging curtain that's blocking the entrance. He crawls inside, taking in his surroundings, and nearly has a heart attack when he spots a young girl seated there on a small bench, playing with a pink plastic tea set. It's the same girl that stared at him through the window earlier, and Castiel's first instinct is to turn around and leave, but then she smiles shyly, gesturing towards the assortment of cups, trays, and cutlery on the floor.

"Hey, Mister, would you like some tea?" she asks in a small, friendly voice.

"What are you doing in my tree house?" Castiel replies impulsively, then wants to punch himself for being this rude towards a child. He thinks about going back inside the house, but that seems even worse than staying here, so Castiel keeps the curtain open and positions himself close to the entrance where he can be seen from the outside, as far from the girl as possible, just for good measure.

"Grandpa Chuck said I can play here, but he's dead now" she says, sounding sad all of a sudden.

"Yes, I suppose he is…" Castiel answers pensively. The girl doesn’t look like she's related to the Novaks. Most of his family members fall into the "Dark and brooding" category, excluding Gabe, and the girl is as blond and cheerful as can be, like a bright ray of sunshine. She's probably the neighbor's kid who apparently has his father's permission of using Castiel's old sanctuary.

"What's your name?" she asks, fake pouring a cup of tea. Castiel still has a small plate of pie in his hands, and he puts it down on the polished beams and accepts the offered empty cup she hands him.

"Castiel"

"That's a weird name" she says and giggles, "But don’t tell my Dad I said that. He doesn’t like it when I make fun of other peoples."

"What's your name?" Castiel asks back, feeling the tension in his bones slowly dissipating. Being in the treehouse always has a therapeutic effect on him. It was where he felt most safe and secure, like no one and nothing could ever harm him.

"I'm Emma, pleased to meet you" the girl answers politely, and automatically reaches a hand for him to shake, like she was taught this is how she's supposed to greet people. Castiel shakes it for a second then leans back against the wall. Thankfully, the treehouse is big enough for the two of them not to feel crowded, and he really doesn’t want to get caught sitting close to a ten-year-old girl he's never met before.

"Nice to meet you, Emma. Are you my neighbor?"

"Yes, I live here" she says, pointing in the direction of the Winchester house. "Can I have some pie?" she adds, looking at the plate next to Castiel.

"I don’t know, are you allowed to? Do you have any allergies?" Castiel asks, not wanting to risk hurting someone else's child by mistake.

"I need to ask Daddy. Wait right here, and drink your tea" Emma declares determinedly, then leaps to her feet and moves past him quickly, climbing down the ladder like a monkey. Castiel laughs to himself and for some stupid reason, lifts the plastic cup she gave him to his mouth and pretends to drink.

Five minutes later he hears voices, and peeks his head outside the door to see Emma skipping happily towards the tree, followed by none other than Dean Winchester.

"Catsiel!" she yells, butchering his name, then climbing up the ladder in record time, "Daddy said I can have a little bit of pie." She retakes her seat on the other side of the floor and stares at him eagerly.

Castiel inhales a deep breath, attempting to calm his nerves down. So, Emma is Dean's child. Of course a guy like Dean is married with children, it's only fitting. Dean stands there at the bottom of the tree throughout their interaction, a half-smile decorating his beautiful face.

Castiel ignores him, then shrugs, and uses one of Emma's plastic knives to cut a small piece from his pie and place it on one of the plastic trays. Emma practically vibrates with anticipation, and as soon as he finishes cutting, she grabs the plate and starts digging into her pie excitedly.

Castiel can’t help himself, laughing out loud at the cute display.

"I take it she went into 'Nibble mode", Dean says amusedly, reminding Castiel that he is still there. Castiel looks down at him, finding Dean leaning against the trunk, smiling.

"Let me know if she bothers you in any way, she can get quite bossy" Dean continues, as Castiel just stares at him blankly. "I can understand you needing some peace and quiet", he says, face full of empathy. He probably thinks Castiel is hiding in the treehouse so that he can mourn his parents.

"It's ok, I don’t mind" Castiel finally replies, then laughs again when Emma beams at him with a mouth full of crumbs and blueberry jam.

"Chuck used to let Emm play here all the time, so she kind of thinks this treehouse is hers now" Dean explains, and now it all makes sense. His father must have enjoyed hearing sounds of children running around the yard, since he always wanted grandchildren, which was one of the reasons he never accepted the fact that Castiel is gay.

"Do you have any more children?" Castiel asks. Wanting to know what to expect noise wise.

"Nope, it's just Emm and me" Dean replies.

"What about your parents?" Castiel remembers Mary Winchester, who was always nice to him whenever he came over to play with Sam.

"Dead. A long time ago actually."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, well, it happens" Dean says calmly, looking at Castiel as if acknowledging his acceptance into the 'orphans' club, except he doesn’t know that Castiel has been living without his parents' support for longer than Dean had.

"And Sam?"

"Oh, he's perfectly fine, runs a law firm all the way over in California, married with two children and a wife and a white picket fence, the whole shebang."

"Uncle Sammy is a human moose!" Emma declares, and Castiel suddenly notices that she is also eating the slice of pie he left for himself. For some reason, it upsets him.

"You ate my pie!" he calls, somewhat accusingly.

"Emma Grace!" Dean's voice roars from below, deep enough to be heard loud and clear inside the treehouse, "Did you eat all the pie?"

"You said I could have some, it wasn’t a big piece. I'm sorry Mister Catsiel" the girl says, pouting.

Castiel can’t stay mad at her, but he certainly had enough socializing for one day. He nods reassuringly, then moves to stand on all fours, crawling back through the doorway, ass leading the way. He puts his foot on the first step of the ladder and then jumps the rest of the way down.

Dean is staring at him wide-eyed as he touches the ground, much like he did when they met earlier. "Are you a freakin' cat or something?" he says with a smirk.

"It's not that high" Castiel shrugs, then looks up to see Emma sticking her head out the window, cheeks and mouth covered in blue jam.

"Thank you for the tea, Emma" he says, making his way back into the house.

"Goodbye, Catsiel, thank you for the pie" she shouts back, and Castiel hears Dean snorting behind him.

Chapter Text

"So, are you ready to run back screaming and kicking?" Meg asks, and Castiel wants to punch her in the metaphorical shoulder for having such little faith in him.

He is lying in Anna's room, on his back, staring at his phone's screen where Meg's smug rounded face awaits his reaction. The house is finally quiet, and Castiel is thankful for Amara sticking around after everyone else left, including Gabe, and helping him put the place back in order.

Despite living in this very house until the age of nineteen, Castiel really has no idea where things are, so he follows her around like a puppy while she shows him the cellar, the cleaning supply closet, and the storage room. He now has enough food to last him through this week and probably the next.

"Shut up, Meg, I'm fine, just a little overwhelmed."

"Did you meet any former enemies?"

"I don’t know about enemies, but apparently my current neighbor is the same one who used to make fun of me when I was a kid, except he is now an adult and has a daughter who took over my treehouse" Castiel says, and Meg bursts out laughing at his annoyed expression.

"You're such a drama queen, she's just a child… besides, you probably don’t even fit in there anymore."

"I do fit in there! I've spent time there today having a fake tea party with her… will you stop laughing?!?" he cries, half upset, and half amused by Meg cracking up at his words.

"I'm just glad you've managed to make new friends, is all…"

"Stop it, she's a ten-year-old who calls me Catsiel for some reason, and her dad is triggering my childhood trauma as well as my libido" Castiel admits, because despite the fact that Dean symbolizes a bad period in Castiel's life, he is still incredibly nice to look at.

"She's a genius. I could have called you Catsiel all this time, I can't believe I didn’t think of this myself."

"Goodbye, Meg" Castiel says, "Thank you for your support."

"Oh, come on, Clarence, you know I'm here for you if and when you might need me."

"I do, love you, talk to you soon" Castiel says, hovering his finger above the End Call button.

"Love you, too… Catsiel" Meg mocks, and Castiel hangs up the phone, frowning.

It's been a long, tiring day, and he just wants to go to sleep and stop worrying about being back in Lawrence. He's somehow managed to politely dodge being probed and questioned about his past disappearance and his present relationship status, he got to see Gabe, and his encounter with his neighbors has been mostly harmless, if a little confusing.

Dean seemed to be a functioning, responsible adult, nothing like the rowdy teenager he used to be, and Castiel will for sure bump into him in the future, since he lives next door, so he decides to withhold judgment on the man for now, but still tread carefully.

Castiel thinks about his parents, about how his mother tried reaching out to him after he left, begging him to come home, promising to talk to Chuck about apologizing for the way he treated Castiel after he told them he was gay.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back, Chuck standing there shouting at him that no son of his is a faggot, and that Castiel was just confused and needed guidance. He said they were going to help him, make it better, and the day after, Castiel received a phone call from the local pastor, asking him to come meet with him by the church and talk. Castiel hung up the phone and started packing his bags right there and then.

Up until that moment, he somehow managed to suppress years upon years of cruelty and mockery from his peers, had graduated high school, and even got accepted into KU, but his father's approach to Castiel telling him that he liked guys, not girls, was unacceptable and quite frankly, heart-breaking. His home was no longer a haven, no longer a safe space for him to be when all else failed.

Castiel left Lawrence a week later. He had his battered old car and some money he saved from working at the local Gas-n'-snip. He waited until his parents fell asleep to sneak out of the house and drive as far away as he possibly could until he got tired and had to pull over and snooze at the side of the road.

He had good enough grades to get accepted into Chicago University with a tuition and share a dorm room with a weird dude named Garth, who introduced Castiel to marijuana and occasional orgies. He graduated with honors, and obtained his doctorate in Archeology while working at the university library and also functioning as a TA.

Castiel loves his job, enjoys the thrill of uncovering something new. He even appreciates the meticulous, time consuming stages of processing found objects while making sure not to damage them in any way. He is somewhat excited to start working at the Lawrence History Museum, who is considered a well-respected institute. He still has four more days until he needs to attend his new job, and Castiel is going to take advantage of them and get comfortable around his new environment.

It is way past midnight when Castiel finally gives up on trying to fall asleep. He just can’t shake off the rush of adrenaline and tension that accumulates in his body, so he puts on a pair of shorts, a sweatshirt, and his running shoes, and slips out of the house.

The weather is chilly, but once Castiel starts running, his body naturally heats, and he doesn’t mind the cold anymore. He takes to the left past Dean's house, where all the lights are out, and continues down the street. Some houses look the same and some are different. He recognizes his friend Charlie's house instantly thanks to the large orange flower pots her mom still nurtures on the driveway.

Charlie was a nerdy, red headed girl who befriended him during high school, and was the only other gay person he knew back then. He wonders if she is still living in Lawrence, since he wouldn’t mind bumping into her.

Castiel runs past the local post office, then takes a shortcut through the huge park with the fishpond at the end of the neighborhood. Everything looks altered, yet somehow familiar, and it contributes to the odd feeling of disassociation Castiel has been experiencing since he first got here.

It's 20 minutes later that Castiel completes his little tour and jogs back up his parent's driveway, stopping for a quick stretch before heading back inside. He drinks some water then collapses on the living room couch and turns on the TV, settling for a dumb medical soap opera. He contemplates about starting his life anew, and rediscovering his hometown.

Despite everything he's been through, Castiel is still an unrelenting optimist, who believes he could have a good quality of life if he just choses to put in the effort and not panic, but it is of course easier said than done. The final thought passing his mind before he falls into a deep dreamless slumber, is a scared little voice telling him that he doesn’t belong here, that he is going to get hurt, just like he did all those years ago.

****

"Good morning, Castiel."

"Good morning, Donatello" Castiel greets, bowing his head towards the Museum's elderly security man. Donatello is working in the museum since Castiel was a little kid who came to visit there with his parents, and he was always fond of the kind, clever man.

Donatello's knowledge of the exhibitions in the museum can put some of Castiel's colleges to shame, so he makes sure to let the man know that his opinion matters. They had already engaged in some eye-opening conversations about altering the medieval display, which is now under Castiel's supervision.

It's been two weeks since Castiel returned to Lawrence, and all in all, things are beginning to take shape. He spent the first week clearing his parent's house of clutter and trash, packing up boxes, donating items and clothes to charity, and unboxing his own stuff, especially his books, courteously sent over by Meg.

He repurposes Anna's room, turning it into an office, and makes his parents' bedroom on the first floor his own bedroom. He donates their old, rickety wooden bed, and buys a new one, a fancy king size with memory foam mattress, because he loves his good night's sleep more than anything.

His and Gabe's rooms remains mostly untouched. One of them is already a sort of a storage room for discarded furniture, Christmas ornaments and old records, and Castiel decides to leave it be for now. He has to admit that the house is too big for one person to live by himself, and there are nights where the emptiness is too much to bear. When that happens, he usually calls Meg, or goes out for a jog.

He hardly ever sees Dean or Emma. Sometimes he hears them laughing or hears music coming from within the house. He learns quickly that Dean doesn’t have a wife, or at least, she isn’t staying with them at the moment.

On occasion, when he is out exercising early in the morning, he sees the two of them getting into Dean's vintage black car on their way to school. Dean usually waves at him, and Emma greets him good morning, but Castiel mostly nods politely and continues running.

Then one afternoon Castiel is finished working early, and is making his way from his office at the top floor of the museum to the exit, planning a nice evening of ham sandwiches and perhaps a movie. He crosses the Prehistoric Animals exhibition hall, where a group of young schoolchildren are gathered around a teacher and guided by his colleague, Rowena, when he hears a familiar voice.

"Catsiel!"

Castiel turns to see Emma standing somewhat separated from the group, wearing a green AC/ DC shirt and wiping tears and snot off her red face. She is obviously in the middle of crying, and is accompanied by another, very young male teacher who seems a little lost in dealing with the sobbing child.

"Mister Catsiel!" Emma calls again when Castiel has a sudden panic-induced thought of running away pretending like he didn’t hear his twisted name being called, but Emma is crying, and she is after all just a kid, so no need to unload his personal issues on her.

Castiel turns and walks over to where Emma is standing with the teacher kneeling in front of her while wrapping a bandage around her right pointer finger.

"Hello, Emma" he says politely, "Are you all right?"

"I cutted myself when we did the tree carving" Emma explains, pointing at her bandaged finger. "It hurts like son of a something Daddy told me not to repeat."

Castiel laughs against his will, finding her honesty adorable.

"She had a wood chip stuck under her nail, not a pretty sight but nothing life threatening." The young male teacher, who wears a sticker with the name "Jack" printed on it, explains.

Castiel knows that the museum offers young visitors a variety of workshops and classes, so that they could experience firsthand what life was like back in antiquity. He appreciates the more hands-on approach of teaching history through experimentation and investigation rather than just staring at un-contexed, glass protected, exhibits.

"Feeling better, Emma?" Jack says. It looks like he's a teacher in training, and has accepted his role as a caretaker for the crying child somewhat uncertainly. "How about we catch up with the others?"

Emma gives Castiel a look full of anticipation and plea, like she wishes for him to rescue her from the boredom that awaits her inside the next exhibition.

"How about I show you something cool instead?" Castiel asks, looking at Jack. "I work at the museum and Emma is my neighbor, so if it's all right with her dad, I can give her a little VIP tour."

Emma's eyes open wide like Castiel hung the moon, and he finds her enthusiasm endearing. He wishes someone had nurtured his own curiosity when he was this young, but his childhood couldn’t be further away from this.

"I'll text your dad, ok? Give me a minute" Jack says, and starts fiddling with his phone.

"Do you really work here?" Emma asks, and Castiel notices that she has drifted closer to his side like a baby goose waiting for its mother to start marching.

"I do, I am an archeologist specializing in medieval and Viking age tool making and weaponry."

"I don’t know what that means, but daddy watches a show about Vikings on TV."

Castiel chuckles internally, he knows that show well enough, it’s historically imprecise on occasion, but he mainly watches it for the hordes of sweaty, bearded, naked men, not the scientific accuracy.

Jack returns a moment later telling Castiel that Dean has approved of Emma taking a small tour with him. They set up to meet back at the Prehistoric Hall twenty minutes from now, and then Castiel finds himself alone with a ten-year-old energy ball who bounces excitedly from one foot to the other as they walk back up the stairs.

"Come on, Emma, I'll show you where we keep our medieval artifacts, and we can also take a look at the new, unopened, mammoth exhibition."

Emma squeaks, and twenty minutes later they are finished with a very educational look behind the scenes of the history museum. Emma Wowed and Whooped when Castiel showed her the rows upon rows of drawers containing precious, ancient relics, and asked very clever questions considering her age, much to his surprise.

They briefly caught a glimpse at the stuffed wildlife storage, because Castiel didn’t want to scare the little girl with a room full of dead, cloudy-eyed animals, then they finished their tour by entering the mammoth exhibition. It was still under construction, but Castiel's college, Rufus, did an excellent work positioning the huge true to size models of a wooly-mammoth in their supposed wintery environment.

Emma seemed awestruck standing next to the giant creature. Castiel explained to her a little about the origins of the wooly mammoth and how it migrated and lived. She was so cute jumping around, trying not to touch or disturb anything. You could tell she was a good kid, a lot different from Castiel's notion of her father when he was her age.

When their twenty minutes are up, he brings her back to where Jack is waiting with the rest of her class. She has completely forgotten about her injury by now, and is rushing towards another girl her age, telling her animatedly about what she saw.

Castiel fastens his backpack straps and starts making his way towards the museum's exit when someone calls his name. It's Emma, and she hurries to catch up with him, and then reaches out her hand for a shake.

"Thank you, Mister Catsiel, I really enjoyed my tour."

"You're welcome Emma, it was nice meeting you again, and please, call me 'Cas' from now on, I think you'll find it easier to pronounce."

"No problem, Mr. Cas, byeeee." She says, and runs back to join the rest of the class.

Castiel smiles to himself, pleased by his little afternoon adventure. His people skills often feels a little rusty, but all in all, Castiel really likes to teach, likes to see people's eyes pop open in wonder, their mind expending to accumulate new knowledge. It was nice spending time with his curious young neighbor, and he feels a little less lonely as he pulls his car out of the museum parking lot and stirs it back home.

****

Castiel is relaxing on the living room couch, a mug of hot chocolate in one hand, and his phone on the other. The TV is on but it's on mute, he is talking to Meg.

Apparently, his ex, Mick, ran into Meg at the university and was surprised to learn about his recent move to Kansas. Mick is a professor of international relations, an articulate, charming English guy who made a move on Castiel at the university's Christmas party.

They dated for five months, but Castiel put an end to the relationship once he realized it wasn’t going to be anything more than a convenient booty call for him. Mick was clearly very upset, because according to him, he had feelings for Castiel, but staying true to his stoic demeanor, he just nodded when Castiel told him they should stop seeing each other, then left his and Meg's apartment and never spoke another word to Castiel again.

Castiel wants someone special in his life, wants to give and receive love, to feel that sense of wholesomeness and security that comes with being an intimate part of someone else's life, but he also finds it incredibly difficult to trust, to give himself fully to another person, to stay vulnerable.

"So, what did he say? Does he still hate me?"

"He never hated you, Clarence, on the contrary… he asked how you were doing and told me to wish you best of luck on your future endeavors." Meg says, attempting to mimic Mick's aloof sounding tone of voice.

"Ouch" Castiel says. It is clear that Mick is still hurt from the way things ended between them. If Castiel was a braver man, perhaps he would have called Mick and straightened things out with him, but apparently, he isn’t.

"Yap, that's what I thought, by the way, are you wearing that gift I sent you?"

"I am." Castiel replies. Amongst books and assortment of objects Meg sent over to his new accommodation, was a cellophane wrapped package of a fluffy, white bunny overhaul. At first Castiel thought she sent it by mistake, but when he read the attached note stating that it was as close as giving him a hug she possibly could, he realized it was intended for him.

Castiel likes his comfort, and usually feels a little cold during the long fall evenings, so he sees no harm in slipping into the extremely soft garment with nothing but a pair of boxers on, and zipping it all the way up to his neck. The onesie also has a hoodie attached with a pair of floppy white ears, but Castiel doesn’t use it, he thinks he looks stupid enough as it is.

Combined with sitting on the couch drinking cacao, Castiel feels very much sated and pampered. He ends his call with Meg and tries focusing on the show. It's that medical soap opera again, with the doctor who is apparently so sexy, all the nurses as well as the other doctors wants a piece of him.

He is alarmed when the doorbell rings. Looking at the clock, it is half past eight, hardly a time for socializing. Perhaps it is Amara coming in to check on him unannounced. Nevertheless, given his current state of dress, Castiel opens the door just enough to peek his head out and find Dean standing on his porch in a pair of grey sweatpants and a dark hoodie.

"Dean? Is everything all right?" he asks, puzzled by his neighbor's unexpected visit.

"Yeah… yeah… I just wanted to… what the hell are you wearing?" Dean says, looking with wide eyes at the part of Castiel's onesie that is visible.

"It's a gift" Castiel deadpans defensively, opening the door a little wider to reveal the rest of his outfit. He isn’t going to be ashamed of wanting to feel comfortable in his own damn house.

Dean's cheeks redden, and he covers his mouth with his hand, eyes sparkling full of mirth. "Oh my god" he mumbles, gaze swiping over Castiel's fleecy clad body. "That is too precious."

"Are you making fun of me?" Castiel asks, ready to slam the door back in Dean's smug looking face.

"No, it's just… fuck, you look… adorable" Dean says, smiling widely. "I have a ten-year-old who's obsessed with puppies and rainbows, but somehow you're the cutest thing I've seen all day", he Chuckles.

Castiel stares at him, unsure how to react. It doesn’t look like Dean is mocking him, more like he's extremely amused to find a grown man dressed like a bunny in the middle of a suburban neighborhood. Dean keeps grinning at him, hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Why are you here, Dean?"

"Oh, right" Dean says, shaking himself out of his trance. "I wanted to come by and say thank you for helping Emm out today. She told me what happened, and she wouldn’t shut up about the amazing tour you gave her, so… really man, I appreciate it."

"You're welcome", Castiel says, smiling when he remembers Emma's joyful expression when he showed her a stuffed bear cub model, "She's an intelligent kid."

"Yeah, she is" Dean says, beaming with pride. "Listen, how about you join us for dinner Friday night? Emma really likes you, and it will be my way of thanking you for making the extra effort."

"I don’t know if…" Castiel immediately starts to say, looking for a way to politely decline. He sort of likes this new, fatherly version of Dean, but he still feels nervous getting too close to someone who was once a part of his childhood woes.

"Come on, I make a mean burger, and you can even wear the bunny suit, I'm sure Emm would approve" he says and winks, and Castiel giggles against his will. It is tempting not to spend his weekend alone again, and it's been a while since he had a decent burger…

"All right, I'll come."

"Yes!" Dean calls, and his smile is breathtaking. "See you tomorrow at eight", he adds, then moves down the porch steps. On the final step he turns, just as Castiel is about to close the door.

"Sweet dreams, Bugs" he says playfully, and Castiel cringes as he rushes to shut the door behind him.

Chapter Text

"Welcome to our humble abode" Dean says, stepping aside to allow Castiel entry to a well-lit foyer connecting to a narrow hallway that ends with a flight of stairs on one side, and an open kitchen-dining room area on the other. Castiel steps inside looking around in admiration. Dean's home is tastefully decorated, the wooden floors shine with freshly applied varnish, and it feels warm and hospitable.

It also smells wonderful, like fresh dough, vanilla and pines mixed together, causing Castiel to inhale deeply. It's such a striking contrast to the Novak's' boring, gloomy, naphthalene scented lodge. Dean seems to take good care of his home, and it makes Castiel respect him a little more, or perhaps feel less suspicious about his intentions.

"I just need to get the garlic bread out of the oven and we're good to go" Dean states, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Castiel is following him into the forest green decorated kitchen. If Castiel notices that the color of the cupboards matches Dean's eyes, he doesn’t comment on it.

"You have a lovely home" Castiel finally expresses, taking a seat at the huge kitchen island and observing quietly while Dean, clad in a red apron, pulls out a tray with the most amazing smelling loaf of bread. Castiel's mouth salivates so much he is forced to swallow loudly. It's been a while since he's had a decent, home cooked meal.

"So, what's it like being back in Lawrence? Amara said that you used to live in Chicago before you moved back here."

"It was… different, but I liked it" Castiel says, not sure how much Dean wants him to elaborate. He wonders what else Amara has been saying about him, and plans on keeping his answers to small-talk level, not wanting to give Dean the impression that they are somehow suddenly friends.

"I gathered from what Emm told me that you work at the history museum, what is it that you do?" Dean asks, spraying kosher salt and dried spices on a large plate of golden, crisp looking, fries.

"I'm an archeologist, mostly specializing in medieval battle tactics and toolmaking, as well as Viking age weaponry, although I did my thesis on trade in religious artifacts in the 11th and 12th century France."

Dean looks like a deer caught in headlights. He's got a bowl with freshly cut cherry tomatoes in his hand that is suspended mid-air as he continues to stare at Castiel like he's some kind of an alien lifeform.

"Are you’re telling me that you're like Indiana Jones?"

"That's not what I said at all" Castiel replies irritably.

"But you've been on digging expeditions in the wilderness…"

"Yes"

"And you own a cowboy hat?"

"I think so" Castiel says, unsure where Dean is heading with all his weird questions.

"And did you, on occasion, catch people trying to smuggle archeological remains on the black market?"

"Well, there was this one time in Siberia… wait, what does this have to do with anything?"

"Dude, you're freakin' Indiana Jones! That is so cool" Dean says, beaming at him like an enthusiastic child.

"That's just dumb, Dean… most of what I do is marking and cataloging things and begging for funds" Castiel says, shaking his head in dismay. He's never considered his job exciting, although he himself gets extremely thrilled whenever he or his team finds anything new or scientifically important.

"I bet you look hot in a pair of boots and a fedora" Dean Comments, arranging juicy looking burgers on a tray, and his expression is on the verge of bashful.

Castiel stares at him in shock. Is Dean flirting with him or is he just making a joke? Castiel doesn’t know him well enough to tell the difference.

When Castiel doesn’t reply, Dean turns back to the counter as if nothing happened, and picks up out tableware and cutlery for three, placing them on the kitchen island.

The silence makes Castiel uncomfortable, so he tries to come up with something, anything, to make it less awkward. Castiel remembers Sam telling him at some point about his brother going to boarding school, which means that the last time he probably saw Dean was when Crowley destroyed his stuff. After that incident, Castiel hardly ever left the house and lost touch with Sam as well.

He has no idea which boarding school Dean went to, and back then he was most likely relieved to never see him or his obnoxious friends again. Perhaps he should ask Dean what happened to him after he left Lawrence high, but he feels like opening up a portal to those kinds of memories isn't going to be good for his mental health or his attempt at being a decent neighbor.

"What is it that you do, Dean?"

"I'm a mechanic, I renovate vintage cars on my uncle's shop, nothing as fancy as digging for treasures, I know…"

"What? I do not dig for… never mind" Castiel says, assuming Dean is still joking with him. He always found it difficult to tell when people were being comical, and when they were just plain rude. It made his dating life quite challenging, and it was no wonder that up until now Castiel only had one long term relationship under his resume.

"Why return to Lawrence? I mean, once you get used to living in the city..."

"My parents left me the house in condition that I spend a year living here. I plan to sell it once that year is over, and maybe go back to Chicago or travel for a while, I'm not sure yet…"

"Oh…" Dean says. The kitchen island in now packed full of delicious looking food, and Castiel gathers that they are not going to be eating in the huge dining room adjacent. He is perfectly fine with keeping it simple, since he usually just eats his frozen dinners on the living room couch. "So it’s not like you wanted to come back here as much as you were forced to."

"Basically, yes. Meg convinced me that the money was worth it, I mean it's not like I can get rich digging up old bones and decomposing remains."

"Meg's your girlfriend?" Dean asks, looking at Castiel with a furrowed brow while handing him a beer. "I also have some red wine if you prefer."

"No, beer is fine, thank you… and no, Meg isn't my girlfriend, she is my best friend and former roommate."

"Oh, I see… so… no broken hearts or weeping maidens left in Chicago?"

"Hardly, just a couple of baggaged exes." Castiel says, thinking about Mick and Michael, who are very much still upset with him for pulling the plug on their relationships.

Dean laughs, and it looks like he plans on asking something more, but then Emma shows up and shrieks in delight when she sees him sitting there.

"Mister Cas!" she calls, rushing over to him and reaching out a hand for a shake in what appears to be a well-practiced habit. Castiel takes her tiny palm in his and wiggles it briefly.

"How is you finger, Emma?" There is still a small bandage there, but the girl doesn’t seem restricted in any way.

"It's ok, Daddy says it's nothing to write home about."

Castiel chuckles, appreciating the way Emma is so attentive to her father's words. Emma takes a seat on the highchair next to him, and starts nibbling on a piece of carrot.

"Did you wash your hands, Emm?" Dean asks, settling on Castiel's other side. Their knees touch for a brief moment, but Castiel quickly readjusts and takes a large sip of beer.

"Yes, Daddy. Did you wash your hands Mister Cas?"

Castiel chokes on his drink with an unexpected chuckle, then coughs, and Dean has to lightly pat him on the back until he manages to breathe properly again. His hand, big and warm, lingers on Castiel's back for a moment longer, but then he brings it back to rest on the table.

"I washed my hands before I came over here" Castiel croaks.

"Emma, it isn't polite to interrogate the guests" Dean says playfully.

"It's ok, sanitary practices are important, it's what keeps us healthy, unlike some of the medieval people I was telling you about."

"Mrs. Mcleod said they had to go potty in the forest because they didn’t have toilets, is that true?"

Dean sends him an apologetic look, then offers a huge slice of steaming garlic bread. Castiel accepts it gladly, then turns his attention back to Emma.

"It is true, but that doesn’t mean it's unsanitary. In fact, defecating in nature is considered quite beneficial for the environment."

It's Dean's turn to choke on his slice of bread now, and Castiel pays him the same treatment of gently tapping his back. He can't help but notice how strong and muscular Dean feels under his simple black Henley.

"I can't tell which of you is worse" he mutters, taking a sip of water to sooth his distressed throat.

Castiel smiles guiltily and takes a bite of bread. He moans loudly, happily, savoring the comforting softness and warmth spreading in his mouth.

"Mister Cas likes you bread, Daddy" Emma says, "I don’t like garlic, but sometimes Daddy and I make our own pizza dough" she adds quietly, as if sharing a secret with Castiel.

"This bread is phenomenal" Castiel compliments, and Dean beams at him. "The last time I tried baking anything, I nearly burnt down my ex-boyfriend's kitchen" he continues, and then panics. He just revealed to Dean and his daughter the fact that he was gay. It's not like he is ashamed of his sexual orientation, not at all, it's just that he doesn’t know how Dean is going to react to his confession.

It is quiet for a couple of seconds, and Castiel keeps his eyes on his plate and nibbles on the fries, trying to reduce his growing anxiety. When he finally feels brave enough to glance over at his neighbor, Dean is looking at him attentively.

"Would you like some hot sauce?" he asks as if nothing happened, gesturing towards the small bottle of sriracha on the other side of the table.

"Yes, please" Castiel says, relieved to see that his little admission made no difference to Dean or Emma.

He focuses on his food. The burger and fries are just as good and as fresh tasting as the bread, and Castiel gathers that on top of being sinfully attractive, Dean is also an excellent cook. He can't help being fascinated by him, especially when he laughs whole-heartedly at Emma's comments, and makes sure to keep Castiel's plate full of amazing food. He reminds himself, however, that it is unwise to get attached to anyone in Lawrence, especially since he's only here for a short period of time.

Once they are finished eating, and Castiel can't seem to fit anything else inside his mouth, he leans back against the chair, placing a hand over his slightly swollen belly.

"This was the best meal I've had in a quite a while, thank you Dean" he says. "I might have to double my running speed for a few days to make up for it, but it was totally worth it."

Dean smiles at him, seemingly pleased by the praise. "Glad you liked it, we don’t entertain dinner guests very often, but when we do, I make sure to keep them thoroughly satisfied," he says and winks, and once again, Castiel can't tell if he's flirting or kidding.

"Daddy, can Mister Cas also come to dinner tomorrow? I want to ask him more about medinval people" Emma says, looking at her dad with pleading eyes.

"It's pronounced 'Medieval', Emm, and I'm sure Castiel has better things to do than talk to you about forest toilets."

"I honestly don’t" Castiel comments, "but I'd hate to impose, and I do need to keep unpacking boxes, so perhaps another time."

Emma seems disappointed but nods obediently. Dean gets up and starts putting away the leftover food, while Castiel gathers the rest of the plates, placing them on the counter. He feels strange all of a sudden, standing in a stranger's house having just engaged in one of the most sociable conversations he's had in a while, but Castiel tries to stay calm about all this, even if it is confusing.

"The least I can do is wash the dishes" he says once everything is either back in the fridge or inside the sink. He can't cook for shit, but he is good at dishwashing, and spent years perfecting the art with Meg and his former partners.

"You sure? I've also made dessert, but I know that if I leave them here now I'd get too tired to wash them later and they'd stink up the place."

"I'm used to doing the dishes, since I really suck at cooking, I'll be quick, I promise" Castiel says, already positioning himself next to the large metal sink and running the hot water. Dean busies himself around the kitchen, cleaning the table and throwing away the trash and recyclables. By the time he gets back inside the kitchen, Castiel is already wiping down the last plate and placing it on the dishrack.

"That was lightning fast" Dean Calls, "Is it because I promised you dessert?" he adds teasingly, and this time Castiel recognizes the naughty glint in his eyes. There's tension between them, a loaded energy which keeps Castiel on edge. He isn't sure if Dean is just naturally flirty or is trying to break the ice with his dull mannered neighbor, but whatever it is, it feels oddly pleasant.

"Dessert sounds like a great idea" Castiel says. He still feels full of the fantastic dinner he just had, but he could never say no to sweets. He follows Dean out of the kitchen and into a large, glass enclosed terrace at the back of the house. There's a wicker love seats and a wicker chair around a low table, and a huge beanbag where Emma lies, playing a game on her smartphone, earphones on.

The balcony has a door that leads into what appears to be a nice garden with plant pots and a toolshed, but it's too dark and cold to be sitting outside.

Castiel sits in the chair while Dean takes the larger couch, leaning against the pillows with his legs raised up on the table, and Castiel can't help from eyeing his strong looking body as he shifts to get comfortable. Dean sighs, sounding somewhat exhausted.

"I can leave if you require rest, I'm sure you've had a long day, and having a kid is time and energy consuming from what I've heard."

"No, Cas, I don’t mind you being here, but yes, it can get quite overwhelming" Dean admits.

"May I ask how long you've been a single parent?"

"Sure, um… Lydia left when Emm was only two years-old, so it kind of feels like forever I guess." He brushes a hand through his thick dark blond hair, tousling it up a bit.

"Oh, um… I'm sorry? I mean if you're sorry… I don’t really know what to say so I'll just shut up now."

Dean chuckles. "It's ok, if I'm being honest with myself, I think her leaving was for the better. She wasn’t ready to become a mom, never really cared for it much, and we weren't even living together when Emm was born… so it is what it is" he shrugs.

"Does she keep in touch with Emma?"

"No. haven’t heard from her since Emm turned four, so as far as she's concerned, I'm the only parent she ever knew."

"That must have been difficult."

"Yeah, but Sam and his wife Eileen helped a great deal. I owe them more than I care to admit."

"Sam was always a good guy" Castiel comments, not wanting to elaborate.

"Why did you leave Lawrence, you know, all those years ago? I mean, there were rumors and stories all over town about you getting involved with drugs and gang feuds, and I remember my mom and your mom whispering about it in the kitchen, but I never believed that shit people were saying."

Castiel laughs bitterly. He's had his fare share of experience with recreational drugs, but nothing that would justify getting in trouble with criminals, and even the ones he used to smoke were always purchased by his stoner dormmate Garth. Castiel doesn’t think he's ready just yet to tell Dean about the reasons for his departure though.

"I prefer not to talk about it. I'm still getting used to being back here, but I can assure you it had nothing to do with me being a lawless junky."

Dean laughs out loud. "Yeah, I figured that much. You know, it's funny that I don’t really remember you from when we were growing up, but then again, I was so caught up in my own shit I couldn’t even recognize my own reflection if it was staring back at me", he says, sounding bothered all of a sudden.

It's a conversation Castiel really doesn’t want to be having, and it is getting late anyways. When he glances over to Emma he finds her napping on the beanbag with her earphones still on.

"I think it's time for me to hit the hay" Castiel says, getting up and stretching his limbs to indicate that he's tired.

"But you haven’t even tried my dessert yet" Dean says, sounding like an insulted toddler. It makes Castiel smile internally, because for some reason Dean seems determined to impress him.

"I promise I'll come by another day to test your exceptional cooking skills again."

"I'll take you up on that" Dean says and winks, but looks disappointed when Castiel starts heading back into the hallway through the living room, stopping by the door.

Dean follows him then stands there rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, as if unsure how to conclude their… interesting evening.

"I had a lovely time with you and Emma, Dean, thank you." Castiel says courteously. He always takes the polite approach when in doubt about the proper way to interact with others. Meg used to call it his 'Stick-up-the-ass' attitude, but he really can't think of another way for him to express his gratitude without sounding too personal or too insensible.

"Thank you again for taking care of Emma, it means a lot to me. You're welcome to join us again for dinner, and if you need any help putting your folks' place back in order, just let me know, I've got a shed full of tools and I'm not afraid to use 'em."

"I will, good night, Dean" Castiel says, smiling uncomfortably and pulling the door open. A part of him is reluctant to go home just yet. He enjoys Dean's company, and the light bantering that is happening between them feels nice, but he still doesn’t trust him, and thinking about the risk of getting close to other people is what makes Castiel avoid from letting his guard down.

"Good night, Bugs" Dean calls after him, and this time Castiel's cringe is a little less discomforting than before.

****

Castiel wakes up in his new bed to a mild headache and a raging hard-on. He's been stressed out lately, so preoccupied with all the major changes that's been happening in his life to even think about taking care of his sexual needs, and now he's lying there with a boner that simply won't go away, proudly demanding his immediate attention.

It's been two days since he had dinner with Dean and Emma, and Castiel is experiencing some puzzling emotions. He can't stop thinking about Dean's strong, virile body, about the way in which his shirt stretched tightly over his biceps, the way his palm felt, resting on Castiel's back, comforting and firm. He wants to feel those huge hands all over him, wants to card his fingers through Dean's soft looking hair, to press his lips against Dean's cupid bowed ones, feel their hot breaths mix together.

On the other hand, Castiel fears like it is too soon to let anyone in, especially someone like Dean who once belonged to a select group of people who made his life a living hell, abused and taunted him, made him feel so powerless, unworthy, small…

Dean never laid a hand on him, never stomped on his glasses, never tore his favorite Whinnie-the-Pooh addition to shreds and scattered it across the schoolyard, but he was there, and he laughed, and he never did anything to help Castiel.

Is witnessing a wrongdoing the same as participating in one? Castiel knows deep down that Crowley, and Luke, and all those bullies who made a target out of him, were worse than the ones watching from the sidelines. They were sadists, who enjoyed causing him harm for their own amusement, but he was still angry about all the other kids who saw him get beat up and kept quiet, who turned their backs and walked away instead of trying to help, who laughed while he was crying, humiliated, hurting and alone.

Castiel's childhood was characterized by a deep, all-consuming sensation of being alone, unseen. Sometimes it felt like he was standing in a vast nothingness, a black empty space, existing yet not quite there, with no means to save himself or call for help.
Castiel feared that if he told someone about what was happening to him, no one would believe him. He was nerdy, and shy and he simply didn’t fit in.

Most of his class mates misunderstood him, others simply never tried. The very few he was able to call friends, like Sam and Charlie, were way too unimportant to make a difference. He remembers Charlie yelling at Luke after he stole Castiel's lunch and threw it in the trashcan. He remembers Sam reaching out a hand to help him get up from a puddle of mud after Crowley pushed him and broke his glasses for the gazillion time.

They were only kids, and it felt like they are incapable of changing their circumstances, and since Castiel insisted on not telling his parents about what was happening in school, there wasn't really anything he and his friends could have done to make a difference. He remembers his father scolding him about being irresponsible, breaking his glasses again and again and costing them a lot of money. He stood there embarrassed, wanting to yell that it wasn’t his fault, that he was the victim in all this, but fearing that it would sound like a pathetic excuse.

Castiel learned to walk in the shadows, make himself seem trivial and insignificant, learned to speak less and smile less. It got so bad that at a certain point he hid in the boys' bathrooms for an entire school day. He spent the entire day sitting on a stall's floor, reading Jules Verne, and imagining himself living someplace else, where he could explore the world and live without the fear of being persecuted.

What was it about him that made those kids want to mess with him? His mother, who grew up very religious, used to say that he was her little angel, too delicate and precious for this realm. She said that when he was born, he looked at the world with big blue eyes full of innocence, wander and curiosity, and this was why she named him after an angel, because she knew he was special, other worldly.

Well, Castiel definitely felt special most of his life, often not in a good way. As an adult who had excess to psychological therapy, he learned that he was probably suffering from some kind of a communication disorder that made it difficult, if not impossible, for him to express how he was feeling and what he needed.

His lack of ability to comprehend social situations, or infer the correct way to form bonds with others, also indicated to adult Castiel that he simply wasn’t getting the support he needed in order to overcome those obstacles. For some reason, he slipped under the radar, with his parents being preoccupied with their jobs, their church, and later Anna's death.

Years later, when he was a somewhat functioning grown-up with a steady job and a small circle of loyal friends, he was able to understand and recognize the causes for his miserable childhood. He was able to seek professional help, and talk about the emotions that were buried deep inside him. It was as if every day the bag he was carrying got a little lighter, filled up with strength instead of weakness. He finally had the means and the support he needed in order to be happy.

A big part of that was his decision to study history and archeology. He always loved immersing himself in other people's stories, it's what kept him grounded when all else seemed misplaced. Knowing that somewhere, someone was living a different reality, a different story, made him feel capable of dictating his own narrative, instead of others doing it for him. There was a time when people like Luke, and Lilith, and Crowley, and even the church, were controlling his story for him, but now Castiel was taking back the reins, he was in charge of his own destiny.

Which leads him to his current problem, his attraction to Dean and his surprising new personality. Castiel is certain that Dean has been through a lot, and possibly made big changes in his life as well, but he just can't shake the underlying anxiety, almost reflexive in nature, that creeps into his heart whenever he is near him. It's as if ever since Castiel returned to Lawrence, he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and he hates it, hates not being able to feel more relaxed around someone who's been nothing but kind towards him.

Dean is now an adult, a father, protective, caring, and attentive. It's endearing to see the way he looks lovingly at Emma, like she means the world to him. It's also scandalously sexy, and Castiel is forced to admit a hidden daddy kink.

Thinking about that reminds Castiel of his throbbing condition, and he pulls away the blankets and palms himself through his boxers. He closes his eyes and tries to picture Dean kneeling next to him on the bed, rubbing a huge, calloused hand up Castiel's thigh, sneaking his fingers under Castiel's waistband to take hold of his achingly hard cock. He does just that, sneaking his own hand inside his underwear and starts pumping his shaft slowly.

It's a little too dry for his taste, so he reaches his other hand inside the bedside drawer and pulls out a bottle of hand lotion, squeezing a small dose onto his palm then spreading it all over his erection.

Castiel starts a languid up and down rhythm, twisting his wrist at the tip to include his purple, swollen cockhead in the motion. It feels so good he is forced to speed up a bit, squeezing a little harder every time his fingers touch the head. He moans quietly, savoring not having to rush himself, but it's been a while since he did that, and he seems to reach the threshold pretty fast.

Castiel imagines Dean lying across the yard in his own bed. Its morning, and he's probably also sleeps in nothing but a pair of green boxers to match his gorgeous eyes. Fantasy-Dean is now naked and stroking his own cock, Castiel imagines it to be long and thick at the base, perhaps with a slight curve towards the right, and a soft layer of dark blond curls at the bottom. Fantasy-Dean is groaning softly, voice deep and low, and then starts to buck up into his tight fist, much like Castiel is doing now. Fantasy-Dean's skin shimmers with sweat, and his head is tilted back against the pillows, lips parted and swollen in an inaudible cry.

As Castiel's orgasm crests he moans louder, rubs faster, hips lifting off the bed. He whimpers on a particularly pleasurable stroke, and he knows he's going to come any second now. Fantasy-Dean's condition is much the same, he pants and whines and fucks into his imaginary fist, then calls Castiel's name as his cock starts spurting white ribbons of cum all over his broad chest. Castiel cries out as he too comes. It's strong and messy and absolutely magnificent, and he milks himself through the aftershocks, then collapses back on the bed, sated and spent.

Chapter Text

Castiel is pissed. He just finished going through his father's study, sifting through years of paperwork and documents, cataloging them according to what needs to be saved for future reference, and what belongs in the shredder. A lifetime of achievements, minimized into two cardboard boxes full of dead trees.

Castiel tries to make sense of who his father was, reading through grade charts from his military academy, old paychecks and letters written to and from friends. All he gets is a complex picture of a man who cared about his family as much as his own appearance and reputation, a man who wanted to be important. He opens up the final drawer in his father's mahogany writing desk, extracting a pile of wrinkled paperwork, when he finds it.

Tucked under a stack of old electricity bills, is a pamphlet with a large cross printed on the cover. Inside is a description of what appears to be a bible camp of some sort, but Castiel is wise enough to recognize the illusive phrasing of "Correction of morals", "rehabilitation", and "Returning to god". It's a brochure for a conversion camp, probably given to his father by the same priest who wanted to meet with Castiel after his grand revelation.

Castiel had always suspected that this was his father's intention. He had no solid proof that there ever was an evil plan to send him away, but he didn’t really stick around much to wait for that to happen. Castiel holds the thin laminated pamphlet in hand, and gets so angry and upset, that tears start running down his cheeks.

When he left home, he had sworn to never let another person dictate for him who he was, and who he was permitted to love, and now Castiel knows for sure that despite all the barriers, and pain, and turmoil he had to overcome, leaving Lawrence was the right decision. There was no other way for him to be free except distancing himself from the very same circumstances that were bringing him down.

For a second, he thinks about keeping the pamphlet, to make sure he remembers that separating from his family and friends wasn’t in vain, but eventually, he places it in the 'Shred' box, knowing that he really doesn’t need to be reminded anymore. After all those years, it still hurts to know that his father never truly accepted him, never gave up on wanting to "correct" him, but it's too late to prove Chuck wrong now, too futile to even try.

It is way past dinnertime when Castiel hears the doorbell ring, followed by a gentle knock. He's so distracted by thoughts, that he opens it without even checking to see who it is first, and he finds Dean standing on his porch, holding a Tupperware covered with a piece of cloth.

Castiel isn’t really in any mood for company, he's had a long, troublesome day, and the last thing he feels like doing is being nice, so he gives Dean a poised, quick smile, and looks at him questioningly.

"I had some leftover pie, and I figured you might like some" Dean explains, smiling sheepishly. He is wearing a pair of soft looking grey sweats and an Iron Maiden black hoodie, and for some unknown reason, seeing him so cozy and carefree upsets Castiel. Dean probably never had to worry about not being accepted, never had to care what other people thought of him, whether they would harm him or not, never had to justify or apologize for his very existence.

No, Dean had it easy, being the perfect, golden child, having a mother and father who loved him unconditionally, spending his time frolicking with friends and being invited to parties, laughing at pathetic little creatures such as himself…

"No, I'm good, thank you" he says shortly, trying to conceal his growing distress.

"Really? Got your own pie or something? Because let me tell you, once you've tried my apple-cinnamon combo you can never go back."

"I already ate" Castiel mutters, looking anywhere except Dean's eyes.

"Come on, Cas, are you nuts? This is dessert we're talking about", Dean says playfully, but to Castiel it sounds like he's taunting him again. "Not many people get a special Winchester delivery directly to their doorstep these days, but I consider you a friend."

Castiel doesn’t mean to, but he snaps. A day spent digging through old wounds and learning about his father's horrible intentions was finally getting to him, and Dean being annoyingly flawless and sweet is the final straw.

"Dean, I don’t want your damn pie, and I don’t want your friendship. You were never nice to me in the past, so I see no reason for you to start now."

Dean stares at him in shock, still holding up the Tupperware like he's offering a sacrifice for the gods. His eyes are full of disappointment, dismay, and it reminds Castiel of the way he himself used to look like when other people were abusing him, like he can't quite comprehend why.

"What… Castiel, what are you talking about?"

Castiel should just walk away, politely say good night, and shut the door, but he just can't seem to stop himself now that the dam has broken.

"You honestly don’t remember me from when we were kids?"

"No, not really" Dean admits, clutching the container closer to his chest as if for protection. "I know you were my neighbor and such, but I don’t recall us ever engaging."

"Typical" Castiel spits out. His fingers clutch the door handle in a grip so strong, his knuckles turn white. "Why would someone like you waste a second thought about a loser like me…"

"Cas, I'm sorry if I did anything that might have offended you? Is it because Emma invaded your treehouse? I can tell her to stop using it, I mean she's…"

"No! Emma has nothing to do with it. It's you, and your senseless friends… Crowley, and Bart… and… and Cole, you've made my life a living hell! you've abused me, made fun of me… kids like you were the reason why I spent most of my childhood in fear, and the fact that you can't even remember doing it, is even worse!" Castiel shouts, running a hand over his face in an attempt to calm himself down. It's maddening to think that Dean can't even recall treating him like shit. Was he so insignificant? Unworthy of a memory?

Dean blinks, face full of confusion. For a second his mouth twitches like he's about to start crying, but then he takes a step back, examining Castiel with a concerned expression.

"Castiel, I'm not saying I didn’t do all those things you're accusing me of, but I was a very troubled kid back then, full of anxieties and I had a lot of issues, so I'm sorry, really, but I'm sure I would have remembered if it was anything serious…"

"Serious? Is hiding in the boys' bathrooms with no food for an entire day not serious enough for you? is having your glasses broken every other week, or having your stuff dipped in mud, or your notebooks being torn to shreds, not serious enough? You were right there, Dean, and you laughed, and I just can't be your friendly pie-loving neighbor knowing that you don’t even acknowledge what you and your friends did to me! I was miserable! I left Lawrence because I couldn’t take it anymore, because I was treated like dirt, worse than dirt. No one gave a fuck about my feelings… no one helped! Oh, I'm sure you can move on from that, but I can't, and I don’t want your goddamn pie right now!"

Castiel finishes his little speech, slightly panting, staring at Dean with tearful eyes. Talking about the things that happened to him makes him feel weak all over again, like he's reliving the past, and he doesn’t like it one bit. He's worked so hard, managed to build his confidence back from scratch, and here comes Dean with his gorgeous smile and delicious pie, acting like none of it mattered, like his suffering didn’t matter.

He steps away from the door and closes it, not even waiting for Dean's response. He can't handle another confrontation right now; he shouldn’t have allowed himself to start this one either. He was foolish to think that coming here was going to be anything other than heartbreaking.

Castiel walks into his parents' old bedroom. He takes off his clothes and violently kicks off his shoes, then crawls under the covers, shutting himself from the world. He starts to cry, soft, lingering sobs that grow louder and louder the more he thinks about all the things he's lost over the years… his innocence, his self-worth, his home, Anna, and now his parents. He shoves his face into the pillow, stifling a scream full of angst. It's as if he's a kid again, sad, and misunderstood, and so terribly alone.

****

I need you.

Clerance? What's wrong? We're having a board meeting but it's boring AF so shoot…

I just yelled at Dean for bringing me pie, and he doesn’t even remember being mean to me, he looked so hurt, and I…lost it. Tell me I'm not going crazy.

You're not crazy. We knew this might happen, you can't live in a vacuum, and it’s completely normal to lose it a little bit (it is a little bit, right?)

Yes, I'm just lying here smearing snot on my pillow, I promise. I feel bad for yelling, but it just makes me so mad to thinks that he didn’t even care enough to remember me.

Must have had his reasons. Did he apologize?

Kind of? I didn’t really give him a chance to explain himself.

Oh, Clerance…I think you need to just accept the fact that it's always going to hurt, but you are not the same person you once were, let go of things you cannot change, focus on what you can.

I know… and I'm trying, but it's hard. I like him, I told you this already, but it feels weird, like I'm betraying my younger self or something.

It's ok to want, we can't help who we love, you of all people should know that, but we can choose to forgive and move on. I think you might owe Dean an explanation, maybe not today, but definitely someday.

I don’t know, Meg, I feel like I should just keep my distance and forget all about it.

Right, just ignore the problem until it goes away, because that really worked out for you in the past, hasn’t it?

What's that supposed to mean?

Michael…

Michael broke up with me, Meg.

You didn’t speak to him for a month.

I was angry with him.

Yes, but you didn’t even tell him why, you just pushed him away.

He went to dinner with his ex while I was on expedition with you.

It was a business meeting, they weren’t even alone, and you never told him why you were upset, you just stopped talking to him.

I was saving us both the trouble.

No, Clerance, I love you, but you ran away because you thought you might get hurt. It's not the first time you did that…

That's low, Meg, even for you.

Is it not true?

Castiel puts his phone down on the nightstand. He's too depressed and distracted to get involved in an argument with Meg right now. Of course he knows she's right. Castiel has a tendency of fleeing at the first sign of danger, calling it quits before anyone else has a chance to. It's a technic he perfected in order to deal with his insecurity and lack of trust. Very few had managed to stick with him past that pattern, Meg included.

He knows that Dean isn't the only one to blame for what happened to him, he was a small pawn in a system that was never in Castiel's favor, a member of a society that pushes away anyone foreign or misunderstood. But now Dean was there, reaching out to him, and he was kind and caring and it made Castiel feel vulnerable, made him afraid.

Castiel might choose to apologize to Dean, he might choose to call truce and try to be civilized, because it’s not Dean's fault that he's so fucked up, and it's certainly not Emma's, but he thinks that for now it's best to keep his distance, try and settle in into his new environment, be strong enough to handle more challenges that are sure to come, sooner or later.

Chapter Text

Castiel is fine. It's been over a week since he snapped at Dean, and he is focusing on his job and getting the house back in order. It's already taking shape, with most of his parents' possessions either in storage or donated, and with Anna's room officially functioning as an office, things start to feel a lot more grounded.

He's been avoiding Dean, even going as far as altering his running route so he doesn’t have to run past Dean's house on his way back, and whenever he hears Dean or Emma in the yard he makes sure to stay indoors and wait for them to disappear before he leaves for work. So far Dean hasn’t made any attempt of contacting him either, which simplifies things.

Today, he's getting coffee at a cute little bakery not far from the museum. Lawrence had really taken a turn for the better development wise, with new businesses and shops opening to accommodate the ever-growing young and hip population.

Castiel pays for a large coffee and almond-honey croissant, then picks up his order from the counter. He turns to leave and smashes into a tall, beefy guy in a yellow muscle T.

"I'm so sorry", he mumbles as the guy reaches a hand over and places it on Castiel's shoulder, stabilizing him. Castiel is thankful that he didn’t spill his drink all over what appears to be a very solid torso.

He looks up to meet the man's eyes and is shocked to learn that he knows him. He'd recognize that squared jaw, now heavily stubbled, and those piercing blue eyes everywhere. It's Gad, his childhood crush and the first person to ever reject him and break his heart.

"Don’t worry about it" Gad says, voice low and enticing, and his smile is so wide it makes Castiel instantly blush. Gad was always a charismatic dude, who was into sports and weightlifting, but now he looks like he's stepped out of a WWE championship, all hard muscle, and broad shoulders. Just as dazzling as he was when they were teens.

Castiel continues to stare a moment longer, unsure what to do next, and just as he comes to his senses and starts to push past Gad towards the exit, the guy stops him by placing a hand on his arm again.

"Hey, do I know you?" he asks, inspecting Castiel with intrigue, and something else that looks strangely like sexual interest.

"Maybe?" Castiel croaks, turning into mush under Gad's warm, heavy hand still resting on his arm. It's been a while since another man touched him, and Castiel suddenly feels the familiar surge of arousal building in the pit of his stomach.

"I sure as hell would like to" he says, grinning at Castiel mischievously, and yap, he's definitely flirting, quite openly. "How about I take you to dinner and we can try and figure out where we know each other from?" Gad offers, pulling a phone out of his back pocket and looking at Castiel expectantly.

"Ok" Castiel finds himself saying, and he takes Gad's phone and inserts his number, saving it under 'Cas'.

"Cas, ha? I'll text you and we'll meet up soon, I'm sure we'll have plenty to talk about" he says, and his following wink is full of lust. He unashamedly continues to check Castiel out, nodding to himself as if approving of what he finds.

Castiel waves awkwardly like the klutz he is, and walks out of the coffee shop with a still full cup of coffee, a slightly cold croissant, and a promise for a date.

****

He meets up with Gad for dinner at a place called 'The Roadhouse', it's a type of diner/bar that is family-friendly during the day, and drunk-friendly during the night. He hesitated at first about going out on a date so soon, especially with a guy who refused him once before, but after talking to Meg, and realizing he could use the distraction, Castiel agrees.

Following Meg's advice, he goes for the 'Casual Professor' sort of attire, with a pair of well-tailored dark blue pants, and a simple white button-down, no tie, as Meg insisted it would look too formal. He tries to comb his hair into a neat display, but the minute he steps outside his house into the cool windy air, it's a mess again.

Castiel enters the roadhouse and immediately spots Gad sitting at a booth. He's so large that he takes up the entire seat, and Castiel feels threatened for a second. He's by no means as scrawny and lacking in strength as he used to be, but he really doesn’t measure up to the masculine vision that is his date.

Gad stands up and walks over to him when Castiel approaches, then wraps him up in an unexpected hug. Castiel is surprised and slightly taken aback. They don’t really know each other, and he was going for a neutral handshake as an introduction, but apparently Gad is the touchy kind. He escorts Castiel back to their table, hand resting on the small of Castiel's back as if guiding him forward.

Castiel looks around at the shabby, half-full diner, and it is then that he spots Dean, sitting across from them at a similar booth, two tables down the line. He is wearing the same Henley he had on when Castiel came over for dinner, and he's not alone.

His companion has her back to Castiel, but her long brown hair gives away her gender. It's clear that Dean notices Castiel sitting down with Gad, but as soon as their eyes catch, he looks away. Castiel curses internally as he is forced to seat facing his estranged neighbor, since Gad retakes his previous position.

"So, Cas, how old are you?" Gad says, and Castiel remembers that he's supposed to be on a date and shifts his attention away from Dean and his mysterious partner.

"I'm 29"

"I'm also 29!" Gad says, smiling. "Did you go to school here in Lawrence?"

"Yes, um… we actually went to high school together, we were in Miss Barker's classroom" he admits, because there's no reason to pretend anymore. If Gad remembers him, or his ridiculous little poem, then so be it, he is done hiding like a coward.

"Wow, that's amazing! How come I don’t remember you? A handsome guy such as yourself is sure to leave an impression" Gad says and winks.

"I highly doubt it, I was very shy back then, hardly noticeable."

"That's too bad, but then again I wasn’t out yet, so I suppose I wouldn’t have made a move on you anyway."

Their waitress comes over, and to Castiel's surprise, Gad orders for both of them. He's not even checking with him to see if he has any preferences before he chooses two cheeseburgers, a beer for each, and four shots of tequila. Castiel can handle his booze fairly well, but it looks like Gad is aiming for a night of drunken explorations, which Castiel isn't sure he's on board with just yet.

He can't help but glance over to where Dean and his female friend are munching on their dinner. The women is laughing, head tilted back, exposing a long, tanned neck, and Dean is also smiling, but seems a little distracted. Once again, their eyes meet, and this time it's Castiel who tears them away to find Gad examining him across the table, chin resting on his palm.

"So, Castiel, what is it you do? You've got that nerdy vibe going on, which don’t get me wrong, is totally hot."

"I'm an archeologist, and I currently work at the history museum" Castiel replies. It's strange to be sitting in front of a boy he once wrote love verses and cheesy confessions to, because right now, he's not feeling it at all. Gad is sexy for sure, but he seems a bit shallow, and Castiel did not expect to be disappointed, but he is.

"Really? That sounds boring as fuck, are you one of those people who can talk for hours about the De Vinci code and whatnot?"

"Um… not really, I mean… I like to think of myself more as an explorer" Castiel responds, trying desperately to avoid from telling Gad how very wrong his perception is. "What do you do for a living?" he asks in an attempt to divert the conversation away from his work.

"I'm a personal trainer in a gym on Flint Street, you should check us out… used to box for a while but it wasn’t really paying the bills, so I quit."

"Do you like your job?"

"Hell, yeah. I get to train for free, and I also get to stare at plump looking butts all day, I bet you work out as well" he says, eyes roving over Castiel's form.

"I run, and I like to go hiking, but I don’t weight lift."

"You should, you could use some upper body muscle" Gad says nonchalantly, nibbling on some peanuts, and Castiel stares at him in slight shock. Gad is an honest guy, but he's also kind of rude, choosing Castiel's meal for him and commenting on his appearance without being asked his opinion.

"So what's it like being queer in a town like Lawrence?" Castiel asks, because he's very much interested to know if things changed since he lived here, and also because he's getting a little annoyed by Gad ogling him like a piece of meat.

"We are a somewhat tight knit community, I suppose. There's one gay club called 'Purgatory' that everyone goes to, and it's definitely different from what it was like when I was growing up. Some people are still douchebags, but I never had any issues with anyone, I mean, who's dumb enough to come at me?" he laughs at his own joke, and Castiel cringes internally.

Dean and his friend are holding hands above the table. The woman brushes Dean's arm back and forth gently, and he doesn’t seem to mind. He's looking at Castiel again, though, an unreadable expression on his face.

Their food arrives, and Castiel tries to focus on his plate, and put his jealousy aside. He doesn’t even know if Dean's interested in him. As far as he's concerned, Dean's straight, and was just being friendly when they first met, and now they're not even speaking to each other, so why the hell does Castiel care about his love life, it's none of his business.

Gad's foot brushes against his under the table while they eat, making him jump. He can tell Gad wants him, the guy's practically eye-fucking him from the moment he sat down, and he's physically Castiel's type for sure, but he's also extremely dull and a bit of an assbutt.

At a certain point, Gad reaches over to wipe a smear of ketchup from the side of Castiel's mouth. He then places the tip of his finger on Castiel's lips and nudges it, as if expecting him to suck it clean. For a second, Castiel thinks about biting the unruly finger that's probing its way in, but then he sees Dean staring at the two of them wide-eyed, and chooses to part his lips and suck the digit thoroughly, lapping at it with his tongue. Gad gapes at him, pupils dark with arousal until Castiel finishes and pulls back, letting the digit fall from between his lips.

"Shit, that's hot" Gad pants, then continues eating his burger in huge, ungraceful, bites. Castiel feels somewhat disgusted with himself. He doesn’t like being ordered around, and Gad is definitely testing the limits for what is considered consensual, but he's also somewhat pleased by the jealous look on Dean's face, and the way he now stares down at his food as if bummed out.

Castiel continues to eat his surprisingly delicious burger, and the next time he looks over at Dean's table, the girl has moved and is now sitting next to him on the bench, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Castiel can see now that she's very pretty, and is wearing a cleavage so revealing, that he can identify the trim of a lacy black bra even from a distance.

"Listen, Cas, I know we've only just met, but you're hot, and weird, and I’d really like to fuck you. I promise I'm the best fuck in Lawrence, and I have a pretty big dick as well", Gad suddenly declares, sounding completely serious, and Castiel wants to burst out laughing. Is this guy for real?

It's not like Castiel isn't horny. The last time he was with someone was when him and Mick were together, and it's been a while, but he isn't desperate either, and usually likes to get to know his partners before jumping into bed with them. He's also experienced enough to know that guys like Gad, who think highly of themselves, are usually selfish lovers, focusing on their own pleasure instead of making sure their partner is enjoying himself as well.

Castiel on the other hand, takes great satisfaction in hearing his lovers' cries of joy, in watching them unravel while he pleasures them, bringing them closer and closer to ecstasy, and he's not willing to give that up for a quick, meaningless sex with someone he used to have a crush on, but now he quite frankly can't really stand.

Gad places his palm on Castiel's, and his middle finger starts moving back and forth in between Castiel's, as if mimicking a fucking motion. It's rather unappealing, and Castiel decides there and then that no matter how badly he wants Dean to be jealous, it's not worth settling for someone he doesn’t even like as a person.

"I'm sorry, Gad, I'm having a great time, but I'm not ready for that just yet" he says politely, pulling his hand away and placing it in his lap.

"You sure about that? I'd really love to hear you scream my name while I fuck you with my monster cock."

"No, thank you."

"What's your problem?" Gad asks, as if not used to being turned down. Castiel has a feeling he's accustomed to people doing what he says, but that's not him, not anymore.

"I just don’t want to fuck you, that's all", he says determinedly.

Gad stands up, face twisted into a nasty glare. He pulls out a couple of bills from his wallet and tosses them on the table. "Lose my number", he utters, then walks out of the diner.

Castiel sighs deeply, taking a sip of beer. They haven’t even touched their shots yet, and he's glad for it, because he might have just accepted Gad's sleazy offer if he was somewhat intoxicated. When he feels brave enough to peak over at Dean's table, he finds that he and his partner had already left.

****

"Castiel Novak!"

Castiel stops mid-sentence. He's standing in the museum's lobby, consulting his colleague Rowena about the upcoming 'Black plague' exhibition, when someone shouts his name in a tone reserved only for scolding mothers and displeased teachers.

He turns to see a small figure characterized by a heap of long, red hair speeding towards him. The figure smacks him on the shoulder, hard, then wraps two arms around his neck and clings to him like a lifeline.

"Charlie?"

"In the flesh, you ass!" she says, letting go of his neck and moves back to give him a once over. "You look just as delicious as Dean said you would."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, we've been friends for years, unlike certain people who didn’t even bother telling anyone they were back in town", she states, wiggling her eyebrows judgmentally at him.

"I don’t have your number anymore, Charlie."

"You know where my parents live, you could have asked."

"You're right, I could have, and nevertheless, it's great to see you", he says, and means it. Charlie is exactly the same perky, energetic ball of sass she used to be when they were growing up. She's still short in height but big on charisma, and Castiel is genuinely happy to find her healthy and smiling.

"Come on", she says, grabbing his hand in hers and pulling him towards the exit.

"Where are we going?"

"To get ice-cream at Harvell's, and then hang out around the park, just like we used to do when we were kids, accept neither of us is a blushing virgin now."

"Can't argue with that" Castiel says, chuckling. He shrugs apologetically at Rowena, and follows Charlie out of the museum and onto the main street.

Twenty minutes later they are seated on a pair of swings, each with a cone of tasty, overly-sweetened ice-cream, swaying back and forth while quietly tending to their frozen treats.

They used to do that on occasion, usually during the summer, and Castiel suddenly realizes how much he's missed being able to share a simple moment of happiness with someone he cares about. He takes a mental note to talk to Meg soon, before she feels like he's neglecting her.

"So, why'd you yell at Dean?" Charlie asks once they are both done eating and are now licking their fingers clean.

"He told you about that?"

"He tells me everything", she deadpans." Was it because you still resent him for not being nice to you when we were growing up?"

"Not being nice? Charlie, his friends physically injured me."

"Yes, but Dean never touched you."

"He never helped me, either."

"So did others, why take it out on him?"

"He… brought me pie, and invited me over for dinner, and he was all nice and perfect as if nothing happened and I… suddenly feel… stupid…" Castiel says slowly as the recognition of his unfitting behavior suddenly dawns on him. He face palms himself, groaning. "I've been horrible to him…"

"Look, I get it, you come back here and suddenly things are different, people are different, and you never really had closer. Many people have wronged you, Castiel, but Dean isn't one, besides, he was having a really hard time back then, you should ask him about that once you get your head out of your ass and apologize, and you should apologize to me as well."

"To you? What have I ever done to you?" Castiel enquires, and Charlie looks at him like she wants to punch him again.

"You fucking left. I was your friend, and you just ran away. No phone calls, no letters, I couldn’t even find an email address, and believe me, I've tried" Charlie says, sounding hurt.

"I'm sorry, I really am. My father wanted to send me away to a conversion camp, I had to leave, couldn’t risk being subjected to any more condemnation, Charlie… I was going insane."

Charlie seems horrified, and she stands up and moves in front of Castiel. He's confused for a second, but then she spreads her arms wide, gesturing for him to come hug her. They engage in a long embrace, with Castiel swallowing his tears as well as the petite woman in his arms.

"I'm sorry, too. Sorry for not being able to help you. I'd never presume to know how hard it must have been for you."

"It was terrible, Charlie, I've been so lonely for so long" Castiel says, sniffling, because it's devastating to admit just how unhappy he was back then, how little hope he used to have.

They step away from the playground and pace side by side for a while. Charlie tells Castiel about her job as a programmer, and he describes his recent expeditions north and his life in Chicago after leaving Lawrence. There's years of separation and miscommunication between them, but by the time they reach the end of the park and settle down on a small bench, it already feels like they've never been apart.

"I should probably talk to Dean, but what am I going to say to him?"

"That you've been an angst induced asshole, and you're sorry?"

"You make it sound so easy."

"Listen, I know Dean, he isn't the type to be holding grudges. He's been through a lot, with Lydia and Emma, but he's one of the most caring people I know, I'm sure he'll understand."

"What happened with Lydia? He mentioned her leaving, but never said anything about a current partner, and I saw him at the roadhouse with some woman…"

"You did? It's probably just Lisa. As for Lydia, it’s was nothing complicated really, they had a fling, she got pregnant, they weren't even a couple, even though Dean offered to marry her at some point for Emma's sake, but then she got cold fit and left. Last I heard she was living in New York, and wanted nothing to do with him or Emma."

"Who's Lisa?"

"No one of importance. She's been courting Dean for years, trying to get him to have a relationship with her, but I know for a fact that he's not interested, he's just too nice and lonely to turn her down once and for all… why do you care so much about Dean's love life by the way?" Charlie asks, observing him suspiciously.

"I, um… I was just… curious, I guess?" Castiel mumbles, knowing he probably sounds as smooth as sand paper.

"Bullshit, you like him. I'd ship that, but only if you promise not to break his heart, he's too precious to deserve being toyed with."

"I have no intention of… he's not even speaking to me at the moment, it's all just dumb, I'm dumb, getting myself mixed up in things I shouldn't get mixed up with."

"You were always overcomplicating things, even when we were kids, remember how long it used to take you to hand over you papers? You were constantly checking and double checking every minute detail, I used to go insane whenever we teamed up for an assignment", Charlie says, scoffing at the memory.

"Was I really this bad?"

"Yes. But you were just nervous, it's not like I was mad or anything. I used to be jealous of you for being able to sit for so long and read or study, I couldn’t get my ass down for more than ten minutes before I started getting bored."

"I remember you joining Sam and I at the library and making little paper airplanes to crush into us while we tried to study", Castiel says, chuckling at the image popping into his mind. Despite the troubles he was having at home, and despite being constantly bullied, there were also moments of joy, friendship, brief glimpses of goodness that were usually swept aside by the bad ones.

"Did you know that Dean's parents sent him to boarding school against his will? Sam told me he cried over the phone for a month, begging them to let him come back home."

"Why did they send him away?"

"He wasn’t doing well in school, had problems staying focused, he often skipped classes and hung out with bad company like Crowley and the rest of his "delightful" companions", she explains, and her hatred towards them is clear in her tone of voice. Castiel can definitely relate, and knows he wasn’t the only victim subjected to their savagery.

"I had no idea… Sam never mentioned it, or him in general."

"He knew you had a lot going on. He was always considerate and empathetic towards others, still is…"

"Are you two keeping in touch?" Castiel asks. He's suddenly jealous of their friendship. He could have had that if he stayed in Lawrence, but then again, he wouldn’t have met Meg, or followed his passions…

"We see each other during the holidays when he and his family visit Dean and Emma, his wife is sweet and funny, they're perfect for each other, and sometimes I text him to let him know how Dean is doing, he worries about him, wants to make sure he's really ok when he says he is."

"Does he tend to not disclose his true feelings?"

"Oh, definitely, Dean has difficulty admitting he needs help, he thinks he needs to take care of everyone else around him, and forgets to pay attention to his own needs, it's why it took him such a long time to come out of the closet."

Castiel stares at Charlie wide-eyed, mouth agape. "Come out of the… is Dean gay?"

"He's technically Bi, but if you ask me, dude is dying for a good dicking."

"Oh my god, Charlie! Why are you telling me this?"

"Because he's my friend, and I want him to be happy…"

"What does this have to do with me?"

"You're a smart guy, figure it out. Now come on, let's get you back to work. I need to do grocery shopping, I'm throwing a small gathering this Friday, and turns out I have an extra guest coming over."

"Really, who?" Castiel asks as Charlie once more grabs his hand and drags him after her. What she lacks in strength, she makes up for in pure will power.

"You, dumbass, it’s obviously you."

Chapter Text

Spending time in Anna's bedroom now turned office, is both comforting and melancholy inducing. Castiel doesn’t have a lot of memories left of his older sister, but the ones he still maintains are incredibly heartwarming.

Anna was always kind to him, allowing him to crawl into her bed at night when he was having nightmares, and taking him to the park to teach him how to ride her old bike. Castiel was talking to Gabe on the phone just a couple of hours ago, letting him know that he was settling in and doing quite all right, and they reminisced about the times before she died, when it felt like they were part of a real family.

He also called Meg and told her about his unfortunate encounter with Gad. She laughed so hard he heard her wheezing, trying to get her breathing back in order. She said it was a good thing that Gad turned out to be a jerk, and it goes to show Castiel how little naïve high school crushes really matter in the grand scheme of things. Then Castiel told her about his conversation with Charlie, and she agreed with her that an apology to Dean was definitely in order.

It is so easy to get carried away in thoughts, but Castiel has an important essay to write for the museum's website about Viking burial practices. He is just concluding a paragraph about how, unlike common beliefs, most Viking warriors were actually simple farmers who ventured onto sea looking for new opportunities, when he hears a crashing sound coming from the backyard, followed by a loud cry of pain.

Castiel leaps out of his chair and rushes down the stairs, quickly making his way onto the back side of his house. His first guess is the treehouse, and he is proven right when he sees Emma sitting at the foot of the tree, crying, and nursing a heavily scraped knee.

"Emma, what happened?" he asks, kneeling by her side and examining the bloody, yet shallow, wound on her knee.

"The ladder broked, and I slipped down the trunk" she whimpers, showing him her palm that also shows signs of light bruising.

"Oh, Emma, come on, let's get you cleaned up" Castiel says. He gently picks her up and carries her back to Dean's house. He stops at the front door and knocks, not wanting to barge in and scare Dean.

"Daddy isn't home, he went to the store to get us cheese for pizza night", Emma says. She's still weeping quietly, but appears a lot less shaken.

"Um… ok, I'm going to take you to my house so that I can dress up the wound and disinfect it, is that all right with you?"

"Yes, Mr. Cas, thank you for helping me", she says, wrapping her arms around his neck as he crosses the lawn and carries her back to his house. He puts Emma down once they are in the kitchen, and tells her to wait until he recovers the first aid kit.

"You should text your dad, Emma, explain what happened and let him know that you're here" Castiel says. She nods and takes a seat as he walks over to his parents' (now his, he reminds himself) bedroom where he keeps a medicine cabinet.

When Castiel returns with the kit, he kneels in front of Emma with a cloth soaked in warm water and a little bit of soap, and cleans the scrapes thoroughly. One of the things he learned on his voyages is how important it is to make sure that wounds don’t get infected, because if they do when you're in the middle of nowhere, away from civilization, you're basically fucked.

"Daddy said he'll be back in ten", Emma says as she attentively watches him dab iodine on her knee then place a large bandage to cover it up. He makes sure to tend to the small chaffing on her hands as well, and then washes his own hands in the sink.

"Would you like some water?" he offers. Emma nods quietly. Her tears have already dried, and she is now checking out his fridge door. It has pictures of him and Meg during their dig in Siberia. Castiel hands her a glass of water, then takes a seat across the table.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, Mr. Cas, please don’t be mad at Daddy, ok?" she suddenly says.

"I'm not mad at… who told you that?" he asks, slightly caught off guard.

"Daddy said you were angry with him because he used to make fun of you when you were little. He said he didn’t know it was bad to do it. He told me never to laugh when other peoples are in pain…"

Castiel struggles to hold back tears. Emma is such a great kid, and Dean is an amazing father. It sounds as if he's not afraid to talk to his daughter about difficult issues, or refrain from admitting his mistakes, Castiel finds it endearing, admirable.

"Your dad is the best, Emma, you should know that, and I'm not mad, not anymore."

"He also said that people who get really mad end up turning red like a tomato, and they sometimes poop their pants", she whispers, giggling, and Castiel bursts out laughing, unable to contain himself.

As they wait for Dean to return home, Castiel brings over a book detailing what life looked like for children in the Middle Ages. They go over the illustrations and Castiel answers Emma's many questions using everyday examples and simplified facts. They are so invested in their conversation that they don’t even notice it when Dean arrives and stands at the entrance to the kitchen, silently observing them.

Only when he clears his throat does Castiel look up to see him leaning against the doorframe in a green and black plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. He looks as stunning as ever with that beautiful mixture of delicate yet incredibly manly features, and his small smile is soft.

"Dean" Castiel says, shifting into 'Stick-up-the-ass' mode without even meaning to, because he's slightly embarrassed by his behavior towards the man. "Emma fell down the treehouse ladder, nothing serious, just a grazed knee and some shallow scrapes. You should change the band aid and reapply some iodine tomorrow", he rambles, unsure how to express how ashamed he is for how he reacted.

Dean doesn’t acknowledge his words. "You ok, Emm?" he asks, moving to her side and petting her hair. "Thank you for taking care of her, I shouldn’t have left her alone, even though the store is like a mile away" he says, as if scolding himself for being a bad parent.

"You can tell me to keep an eye on her next time, I don’t mind", Castiel says.

"I like talking to Mr. Cas, Daddy, he's like a human Wikipedia", Emma says, grinning at him.

"We should go, Emm, I bought cheese, and we still need to discuss toppings", Dean says, as if refraining from talking to Castiel directly. He gets it, he's been an ass to him, and now Dean shouldn’t trust him simply because he did what anyone in their right mind would do and helped a child in distress.

"Daddy thinks pineapples on pizza is tasty, but I think it's yucky" Emma says, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"I once had meatballs on a pizza when I was in Scandinavia" Castiel tells her, and Emma's eyes grow wide like saucers.

"That can't be true…" she says, looking astonished, as if Castiel just described the most outrageous thing in the world. Castiel laughs, then winks at her. Someday, he'll tell her more about some of the crazy delicacies he's encountered during his travels.

He escorts them to his front door, keeping a safe distance away from Dean. "Thanks again, Mr. Cas, you are my hero!" Emma declares, and Castiel smiles bashfully at that statement.

"Take care, Emma", he mumbles, "and enjoy your pizza."

He looks over at Dean. The man is carefully examining him, as if trying to determine whether they are on speaking terms again or not. Castiel just nods, trying to wordlessly signal to dean that regardless of the tensions between them, he can rely on him when needed. He hopes Dean is going to forgive his recent outburst, and plans on going over to his house tomorrow morning to finally set things right.

Once Dean and Emma are gone, Castiel reheats some leftovers from yesterday's disappointing dinner. He should really make an attempt at cooking without destroying his kitchen, because to be honest, he's a little sick of eating frozen meals and uninspiring sandwiches.

When he's done, he moves back to his office and tries to focus his attention on finishing his article. Pretty soon he finds that he is too distracted to continue, and his thoughts keep drifting back to Dean and the way he avoided looking Castiel in the eyes, and about how upset he looked when he saw Castiel and Gad together at the Roadhouse.

Perhaps Charlie was right, and Dean really sucks at being sincere about his emotions. Castiel knows more than anyone how frightening it is to open yourself up to someone new, to take a chance not knowing how it's going to turn out. Meg was right after all, Castiel has spent his life running away at the first sign of danger, but maybe he shouldn’t do that anymore, maybe he should take a leap of faith and stay optimistic about what waits for him at the bottom.

****

Castiel feels uneasy as he waits for Charlie to open the door to her city apartment. it's been a while since he attended a social gathering, and coming here means that he's going to have to be a little less reserved, and more communicative and engaging.

He's chosen to wear a pair of jeans, and simple T he got in Norway, that has a dumb joke printed on it. He thought it might make him appear more casual and approachable, and perhaps help break the ice.

It's easy being open and speak fluently to people he already knows and loves, but exposing himself to new crowds always makes him feel on edge. What if they don’t like him? What if he doesn’t like them? It's very confusing keeping up with social etiquette when it feels so forced and unnatural to him. Nevertheless, he knows that Charlie is going to be there, and she's good people, so her friends must be just as amazing.

Charlie opens the door and immediately pulls him into a hug. He reciprocates, flattered by her excitement to see him. she moves back, staring at his shirt, and reads the words printed on it out loud.

"What happened to the Viking who got reincarnated?
- He was reBjorn"

Charlie bursts out laughing, smacking Castiel on the chest. "Oh my god, that's hilarious! And by the way, you look amazing, come on in and meet everyone" she says, grabbing his hand in what seems to be a sure way for her to get people to comply.

Inside the apartment is a spacious living room with an L shaped grey couch and a couple of comfortable looking armchairs. Behind it is a huge bookcase with an assortment of books, games and other nerd-oriented merchandise, and there are five more people sitting on the large furniture, engaging in conversation, one of which is Dean.

Fuck. Castiel should have known there was a catch to Charlie's invitation. That morning he came over to Dean's house hoping to finally get a chance to apologize, but he and Emma weren’t home, so Castiel assumed they went out for the weekend. Now, there was no escaping the inevitable. He was going to have to talk to Dean, say his pathetic little apology and probably never have Dean speak to him again.

"Hey, everyone, this is Castiel", Charlie introduces as she escorts him over. Dean is looking at him, but doesn’t acknowledge his presence any further. The low table next to the couch is loaded with snacks, wine, and various other finger foods, and Castiel has an urge to grab one of the bottles and chug it all down, just to help calm his nerves.

"Cas, these are Gilda, my girlfriend", she says, pointing to a brown-haired woman, "Jo and Kevin, and Gordon, my next-door neighbor who makes the most amazing chocolate soufflés", she winks at the tall, dark-skinned man, "and you already know Dean."

Castiel nods and smiles, unsure how he fits in what appears to be a tight-knit group. Jo, a tiny blond woman and Kevin, a dark-haired, somewhat scruffy-looking guy, are definitely a couple judging by the way that they are holding hands and sitting close to each other. He spots Gordon reading the joke on his T-shirt and giggling quietly.

"Nice meeting you all" he says, trying not to sound like he's panicking.

"Charlie has told us so much about you", Jo says pleasantly, "Let's see if she was exaggerating like she always does or not", she adds playfully, and Charlie makes a face.

"Hey! I never exaggerate!" she calls, tone over-dramatic, and everyone laughs including Castiel. Even he knows that's not true. Charlie has always had a flare for being theatrical, it's what makes her… well, her, unique and at times a bit too much to handle.

"I hope to not disappoint", Castiel says, realizing that he's expected to eventually take a seat. He moves to the far end of the couch, where there's more space available, and plops down next to Gilda, who smiles at him reassuringly. If it just so happens that Dean ends up as far away from him on the other side, then so be it, for now, it's best to keep his distance anyway.

Castiel accepts the wine glass Gilda offers him, and soon enough they all resume their conversation. They talk about their jobs and plans for the summer, and Castiel feels a little left out because he has no idea how the rest of his year is going to look like. Everything still feels so unhinged and somewhat unclear.

"So, Castiel" Gordon finally addresses him, tearing him away from the loop of anxiety ridden thoughts he was heading towards. "Charlie tells us that you're an archeologist, what's it like? Did you get to travel abroad for your research?"

Castiel is happy to be asked such a question. He could talk for hours about his job, but ask him about relationship goals and he'd rather dip his head in sand.

"Yes, I love it. My main focus is on northern countries such as Denmark and Sweden, and what used to be referred to as "The Rus" regions, such as the Ukraine. I participated in a number of expeditions there, and it was very much enlightening as well as challenging."

"Did you have to wear snow equipment and like, be careful not to get frost bites?" Jo asks. Castiel can see that the entire group has stopped conversing and are now listening to him attentively, including Dean.

"Yes, there were some areas that were difficult to get by, but I got to meet amazing people and see some incredible sights, so I suppose it was worth all those hardships."

"That's amazing, I can't imagine myself willingly venturing into the wilderness just so that I could dig for bones in the snow."

"It's more than that", Castiel explains, "Some of the people living in those areas are still following old traditions such as hunting and fishing… even tool making, so it feels like stepping into the past in a way, although most of them have smartphones these days, and I don’t think their Viking ancestors had access to Google Maps", he adds, causing the rest of the group to chuckle.

Even Dean is laughing, and his gorgeous green eyes sparkle with mirth when he catches Castiel's gaze. It's a good sign, and Castiel feels a little more confident about his plan to talk to his neighbor tonight. He smiles back, then focuses his attention on Kevin, who is explaining to his friends how he ended up losing a bet to his coworker and showing up to the office in his pajama pants for a week.

About an hour after arriving, Castiel is already starting to get comfortable. Charlie and her friends are funny, open-minded, and seem to genuinely care and respect one another. He learns that Gilda is a schoolteacher, that Jo is currently running Harvell's ice-cream shop, and that Gordon used to play professional basketball but retired due to an injury. He also learns that they all know each other because of their love for comic books and sci-fi movies, and usually engage in LARPs and attend conventions together.

Sometime around his third wine glass, Castiel feels brave enough, and when Dean goes into the kitchen to wash his hands from all the Cheeto's he's been eating non-stop, Castiel gets up from his seat. Charlie winks at him as he does, and tilts her head towards the kitchen, as if encouraging him to follow the other man.

He finds Dean leaning against the sink, nibbling on a piece of carrot. He can't help himself as he says: "What's up, Doc?"

Dean looks up at him, then laughs. "You're the one with the bunny suit."

Castiel leans on the other side of the counter. The kitchen is somewhat narrow so there isn't more than a foot separating them. It feels strangely intimate occupying the same space as Dean, even more so with the weird vibe that's hanging in the air between them.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he asks, preparing for a disappointment. The way Dean avoided talking to him after Emma's fall made Castiel suspect that the guy doesn’t want anything more to do with him, so he's a little surprised when Dean agrees.

"I'm not very good with words, unless it has to do with my work, and then I can't seem to shut up", Castiel begins, "but I need to tell you that I am very sorry for lashing out at you. You caught me in a bad timing, and I was unprepared for your kindness, so I just…"

"Behaved like a complete douchebag?" Dean completes.

"I was going for – misread the entire situation and reacted out of self-regard, but yes, douchebag about covers it up I think", Castiel says with a small, cautious smile.

Dean chuckles, "It's ok, Cas. I figured I was sort of coming on too strong, I mean, you just moved back, and I was probably kind of smothering you with Emma and the treehouse and the dinner invitations…"

"What? no! it wasn’t like that at all. I enjoyed spending time with you and Emma, I was just overwhelmed by old insecurities and disturbing memories, and missed the fact that you are no longer the same as you once were, and I'd like to think that I'm not the same either, despite acting like a senseless child."

"I understand, it's hard coming home after being away for so long, I know what it's like… makes you feel untethered, torn. You were so wonderful with Emma, and I thought maybe we could get to know each other better, I mean… I like you… at least the parts of you that are not yelling at me for bringing you pie."

Castiel covers his face with his hands, groaning. "I'm so sorry for doing that, I like pie, and I really like you, Dean."

Dean is looking at him intently, and Castiel notices a slight blush tainting his cheeks. He's seen that blush before, when Dean first saw him shirtless on the day of his parents' funeral, and when they had dinner and discussed Castiel's Indiana Jones inspired attire. Dean likes him, he said so, and judging by his body language, he also seems attracted to him. Castiel would be a fool not to confess his own fascination with the man.

"We could give the pie another try, this time I promise not to bite your head off… at least not too hard", he adds teasingly, and watches Dean's eyes grow wide with what looks like a mixture of surprise and slight arousal. Just what he was hoping for.

"O… ok" Dean mumbles, and the way he looks all flustered and bashful is fucking adorable.

Castiel takes a step forward, just to test the waters. He may be shy and restrained in his everyday life, but in the bedroom Castiel prefers to be passionate and daring. He wants to see if Dean is on board, so he leans within an inch of Dean's ear, watching the tiny blond hairs on his neighbor's neck perk up.

"I promise to make it up to you any way you want me to, just let me know where and when", he purrs, and Dean responds with a full body shiver. Pleased, Castiel pulls back, picks up his wine glass, and returns to the living room where the rest of the group are now busy playing charades.

Dean rejoins a moment later, looking a tad bewildered, and Castiel chuckles internally as Charlie takes advantage when everyone else is preoccupied, to give him a thumbs up.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Cas."

"Dean, hey…"

"Are you busy? I could come back some other time…" Dean says, and gingerly takes a step back from where he is standing on Castiel's porch.

"No, I was just catching up on some reading, please come in", Castiel rushes to say, stepping away from the door to allow his neighbor entry.

Dean is dressed to impress in a black band T under a dark grey jacket that emphasizes his broad shoulders, and a pair of blue jeans tucked into army boots. He is carrying a small container in his hands which he places on the antique chest standing behind the door, so that he could safely strip off his heavy jacket and hang it on the coatrack.

Castiel is a little more underdressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an oversized light blue hoodie, he's also barefoot because he's been spending the last two hours curled up on the living room couch with a book.

"Would you like some hot cacao?" he offers, because he was just about to make one for himself when Dean knocked on his front door.

"Got anything stronger? Emm is spending the night at her friend's house, so I figured I'd check in to see if you'd like some company", he adds, rubbing the back of his neck and looking somewhat agitated.

"I would love to spend time with you, Dean" Castiel replies sincerely, because he is done hiding his growing affection towards the man, "and I believe I have whiskey hidden away somewhere. I could make you a relatively boring version of an Irish coffee if you like."

"That sounds awesome" Dean says, beaming at Castiel as if he's offering him the most luxurious treat. Castiel goes into the kitchen and starts working on their beverages, while Dean plops down on a stool near the counter.

"I can't cook even if my life depended on it, but I know how to make a decent drink", Castiel explains as he pours hot water onto an espresso cup. It was Meg who taught him how to mix drinks, saying it would make him look "cool", and not as clueless around potential dating partners. Castiel doesn’t think knowing how to mix a drink makes him any less dull than he already is, but he is glad for the additional skill, nonetheless.

"I learned how to cook back when I was in boarding school, we used to take turns making dinner, and I had a friend, Benny, who taught me everything I know about how to season correctly and cut like a professional. He owns a restaurant in New Orleans now… I should go visit him someday…" he says, as if to himself.

"What was it like? Going to boarding school?"

"Awful at first, I felt like my parents were abandoning me because I wasn’t good enough or something, begged them to take me back… I don’t think I've ever cried as much as I did in those first few months after I started going there, I was devastated, but slowly I managed to make friends, and then I realized that having boundaries and a strict schedule was beneficiary for me, it really helped with my anxiety, and taught me how to take responsibility for my actions. All in all, I think my parents did the right thing by making me go there, I needed to grow up, and boarding school definitely made that happen."

Castiel listens attentively to Dean's story. He identifies with the feeling of being betrayed or abandoned, but he also knows that unlike Dean's parents, his own father's plan for straightening out his son's act probably wasn’t going to end up being an empowering experience.

"I'm yapping your head off, sorry…" Dean suddenly mumbles, but Castiel only laughs in return and hands him a cup of whiskey infused, creamy coffee.

"I don’t mind, I find you interesting" he says.

"Oh! I almost forgot", Dean Calls, putting his cup down and rushing back to Castiel's hallway where he hung his jacket only minutes earlier. He comes back into the kitchen with the small container he brought along, and places it on the counter. "It's raspberry pie" he declares, sounding pleasantly smug.

Castiel stares at him for a moment, taking in how even more gorgeous Dean Looks when he's smiling. He really is stunning, and a decent human being on top of that. If Castiel isn’t careful, he might actually end up falling in love with him. He pushes away those thoughts because they make him anxious, and that's when an interesting idea pops to mind.

"Dean, how about we take our drinks outside and hang around the treehouse? It's a cloudless night and it might be fun to engage in some stargazing." Castiel isn’t sure where this urge to be playful is coming from, but he thinks he might need loosening up a bit, and what a better way to do just that than spend some time outdoors?

Dean gapes at him for a second, as if trying to determine whether Castiel's lost his mind, but then a huge grin spreads on his face, and he responds by standing up and grabbing his drink as well as the pie container.

Castiel leads them through the back door and onto the yard. He notices that someone's already fixed the broken step on the ladder, and has a pretty good idea who it was. He places his cup of cacao on a flat looking patch of grass, then climbs the ladder quickly. Once he reaches the top Dean hands him over their cups and the pie dish.

Castiel scooches over to the far end of the treehouse, to allow Dean an easy access. The older man takes a moment longer to mount the ladder, but he manages to crawl in and settle down on the floor next to Castiel.

It's a bit snug because they are after all two grown men squeezing into a space fit for children, but after a couple of adjustments, Dean is eventually leaning with his back against the wall, legs sprawled forward, and Castiel is maintaining a lotus position at his side. They are both facing the large window enabling them a good view of the bright night sky, and their shoulders gently brush whenever one of them bends over to reach for his drink.

"I can see why Emm insisted on calling you Catsiel, you're displaying some impressive flexibility skills", Dean Comments, referring to the way Castiel's legs are tucked under his thighs. He used to do yoga every day for several years after moving to Chicago. It helped stabilize his then fragile mental state, and also channel some of his frustrations into something more productive and less damaging than heavy drinking and drug use.

"It can be quite beneficiary" Castiel says, bold enough to attempt a small wink with his statement, and he's amused when Dean chokes a little on his sip of coffee. Castiel decides to keep the flirting to a simmer, because he doesn’t want Dean to feel uncomfortable, but he also doesn’t want to be vague about his intentions.

"Did… um… did you had fun on your date with Gad?" Dean asks carefully, as if not wanting to sound like he's snooping.

"Not really, he was constantly touching me and ordering stuff without asking my permission, and then he plain offered to fuck me with his "monster cock", Castiel says, using air quotes while attempting to dramatically imitate Gad's deep tone of voice, to emphasize how ridiculous he found that offer to be.

Dean glares at him, and Castiel glares back, and then they both burst out laughing. It takes them a couple of minutes to settle down because every time they look at each other, they start snickering like a couple of misbehaved children.

"Oh god, I knew the guy was a tool, but that's lame on epic proportions", Dean says, smirking.

"Definitely, and besides, I prefer to top" Castiel states, then peeks over to check Dean's reaction when the other man grows silent all of a sudden.

That's it, Castiel thinks, he's done it again, managed to scare Dean off with his dumb innuendoes. Soon enough Dean is going to make an excuse and go home, away from his rude neighbor. But then Dean looks at him bashfully, a small smirk on his face.

"Do you also have a monster cock?" he quietly asks, and the rush of blood pulsing through Castiel's entire body makes him dizzy for a second.

"Stick around long enough and you'll find out", Castiel replies cheekily, picking up his cup of lukewarm cacao from the floor and sipping from it, pretending that his insides aren’t currently preforming tiny flip flops of excitement.

They spend the rest of the night huddled side by side, gazing out the window at the shimmering stars, and exchanging embarrassing dating stories. Castiel tells Dean about how oblivious he was to the fact that Mick was hitting on him, and kept trying to set him up with Meg, and Dean tells Castiel about the time he brought Lisa over for dinner only to have Emma spill a can of tomato soup on her dress.

"She won't admit it, but I know she did it on purpose", Dean says, chuckling at the memory.

"I can't believe we're talking about the same person, I mean, Emma is the sweetest, gentlest kid I've ever met", Castiel replies, secretly pleased by Emma's obvious rejection of Lisa.

"She is to you. She adores you, I think you attending her tea party and giving her a tour of the museum had a lot to do with it… made her trust you, and believe me when I say that it is not very common", Dean explains, and Castiel can't help feeling warmth spreading through his limbs. It's not just his lightly alcohol infused cacao, it's the feeling of being accepted and valued, even if it's the regard of a ten year old girl.

"I meant what I said, Dean, I'm not an expert on how to raise kids, but if you need any help with Emma… let me know, I'd be happy to assist."

Dean smiles at him, and his hand moves to squeeze Castiel's thigh for a brief moment, acknowledging the offer. "How come you're still single?" he asks, catching Castiel off guard.

He thinks for a moment, debating whether to give an offhand reply or be honest about the reasons why his former relationships failed. "I was too afraid of getting hurt, so I ended up subconsciously sabotaging my relationships, holding myself back from develop meaningful enough connections", he replies, admitting what he now knows was the truth. He allowed fear to control his life far too long, allowed his past to dictate his future, but Castiel no longer wants to do that, no longer wants to deny himself of the happiness he deserves.

"I think I just got used to being alone, rejecting the fact that I needed someone to share my life with, other than Emma of course…" Dean says, and his boot clad leg bumps against Castiel's bare one gently. "I've convinced myself that I'm not smart enough or successful enough to be relationship material, I mean, who would want a 33 year old single dad, a mechanic with no academic degree and a whole bunch of self-esteem issues", he says and sighs deeply.

"Dean, I'm not just saying this because I'm currently stuck in a treehouse with you with no escape route and a pie that I'm dying to try, but you're a wonderful human being, and an amazing dad, and you should be proud of the things you've achieved. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a partner", he adds, and is thankful for the darkness of the treehouse for hiding his blush.

Dean smiles, and suddenly his hand sneaks over and takes hold of Castiel's, combining their fingers together. It feels strange at first, foreign, but slowly Castiel gets used to the sensation of Dean's calloused yet soft palm slowly stroking his own, and he relaxes into the touch.

He looks up to find Dean watching him intently, eyelids slightly hooded, and it takes a lot of courage and some alcohol induced valor not to tear his gaze away. Dean smiles softly, blinking those long lashes at him, and Castiel feels his heart start beating fast inside his chest.

Somehow, the tight space they're currently occupying feels even tighter, and Dean's shoulder presses against his as he leans closer and closer, narrowing the distance between them.

"I'm gonna kiss you now" he says breathily, and Castiel nods, tilting his head slightly to the side to allow better access. Then, in a heartbeat, those luscious, slightly moist lips land on his, and Dean is pressing against him, body warm and solid. Their lips meet for a brief moment, then part as Dean moves back, licking his own absentmindedly. He dives right back in, and this time kisses Castiel hungrily, urgently.

Castiel moans when Dean nips his lower lip, then sucks on it eagerly. His own tongue dares to penetrate Dean's mouth and explore inside, sliding over Dean's tongue in a slick fake battle for domination. Castiel's fingers end up touching the soft hairs on the back of Dean's head, carding through them gently, then lightly tugging. Dean gasps into his mouth when he does that, and Castiel does it again, taking note that perhaps Dean likes it a bit rough.

They continue to kiss for several more minutes. It's messy and explorative and incredible. Castiel's entire body feels on fire, and Dean's hands roaming up and down his back are the ignition. Suddenly, Dean shifts without separating their lips, and moves to straddle Castiel's lap. He grinds down just enough to brush against Castiel's growing interest, and Castiel groans, hands moving to grab Dean's hips and pull him down. He can feel the bulge in Dean's own pants gently rubbing against his belly, and he maneuvers Dean's up and down movements to allow better friction.

"Ah… fuck, Cas…" Dean groans, voice sounding wrecked already.

Castiel isn’t sure how far they can take it considering that they are inside a structure made primarily for children. What he wants to do to Dean's body is going to require a much more solid surface. Nevertheless, he finds it difficult to stop when Dean is making such delicious sounds, moaning and gasping while wriggling on Castiel's lap.

They are still kissing relentlessly when Castiel tries to sit up and bangs his head hard on one of the tree branches that is a part of the inner construction. He grunts in pain and Dean Stops attacking his mouth and pulls back. He looks utterly debauched, with his hair sticking up from being ruffled by Castiel's fingers, and his lips all swollen and wet from being kissed and bitten on.

Castiel is pretty sure he looks much the same, except now there's an angry, throbbing bump at the back of his head. "Ouch", he says, rubbing the sore spot carefully.

"Are you all right?" Dean asks, looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, just bumped my head."

Dean lifts away from his lap, which is a shame, and retakes his seat next to Castiel. He adjusts his pants a little, reminding Castiel of how good it felt having him all aroused and pressed up against him.

"This might not be the best location for what we were doing…" Dean says, sounding shy all of a sudden.

"It is a bit crowded", Castiel agrees, then giggles at how dumb they must look like to someone watching from the outside. He sure hopes no nosy neighbors with a flair for voyeurism decided to stargaze tonight as well. The thought makes him chuckle even harder, because Dean is actually his neighbor, and he did catch Emma peeking at his window the first day he arrived in Lawrence.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Just a silly thought. Hey, how about we go inside for some pie, and then think about how I'm going to make it up to you for being an ass the other day?"

"I like that idea, both of them actually", Dean says, smiling.

It takes them a while to make it back on land with two empty cups and a container of uneaten dessert. Dean stares at Castiel in awe when he once again, perhaps somewhat less gracefully, jumps down from the first step of the ladder.

They go inside the house and reposition in the living room. They maintain a certain amount of physical distance, as if suddenly embarrassed by their little make out session, but still look at each other fondly from both ends of the sofa.

"I don’t want this to be just a one-time thing" Dean says unexpectedly.

"Me neither."

"So how about we go out on a date and then see what happens?"

"Sounds agreeable to me", Castiel says, reaching for the container of pie and pulling out a small slice. He takes a bite and moans joyfully. It is creamy and delicious, tangy and not overly sweet, just the way he likes it.

"You can't make those kinds of noises if you want me to be able to refrain from jumping your bones", Dean says playfully.

"I can't help it, this pie is otherworldly" Castiel utters, stuffing another piece in his mouth.

"I hear the chef tastes even better" Dean Replies, winking.

Chapter Text

"I really am sorry, I thought…"

"Dean, it's fine, she's a child, they get sick, don’t worry about it" Castiel says, hanging his jacket in Dean's hallway. He may be slightly over-dressed, but he's sure Dean will understand given that their initial destination was a semi-fancy restaurant downtown.

"I canceled our reservation but I'm going to make some gnocchi with fresh Portobello mushrooms, basil and cream sauce, I hope it will make up for dinner."

"Are you kidding me? I figured we could just order a pizza and be done with it" Castiel says as he follows Dean into the kitchen.

Dean looks like a man who started dressing for a night out, but regretted it halfway. He's wearing a pair of black belted chinos and loafers, but his upper body is clad in a simple white T with a Bugs Bunny print. When Castiel notices it, he laughs, and Dean shrugs.

"Emma threw up on my dress shirt, so I had to change, and I wanted to at least make you smile, looks like it worked, Bugs", he says playfully, and Castiel beams back at him, appreciating the gesture.

"How is she by the way?"

"She's resting in her room, had to clean up carpet vomit… twice, which was not an easy task, but I think the worst is behind us, she just needs to hydrate and sleep it off."

Dean starts organizing ingredients on the counter, lightly banging them down in frustration, and Castiel reaches over and grabs his elbow, effectively turning him around so that Dean can see his face.

"Dean, it's ok, I don’t mind staying in, I appreciate our talks… our time together, and I don’t care where they take place."

Dean's green eyes blink as if holding back tears. For some reason he looks vulnerable tonight, nervous, and Castiel wants to help him unwind.

"I wanted our first date to be perfect, I had it all planned out, we were gonna eat, and then stroll along the pier, and I was going to kiss you like I've been dying to do all week…"

"We can do those things another time, but right now Emma needs you, and I am happy with whatever you have to offer… and besides, who says you can't still kiss me here? Is there a house rule I don’t know about?" Castiel asks, cupping Dean's cheek in his palm.

Dean leans into the touch, sighing, and places a hand on Castiel's hip, pulling them closer together. "The only house rule regarding kissing, is that you have to do it as often as possible" he whispers. Their faces are only inches away from one another, and Castiel takes advantage of that and places a tiny peck on the tip of Dean's nose.

"Start counting", he says, then places a second one on Dean's cheek, then another on his eyelid. Dean melts in his arms, remaining still as Castiel peppers his face with tiny, chaste kisses while purposely avoiding his lips. The hand on Castiel's hip tightens, as if making sure to keep him right where he is.

"Dadddyyy!" comes a somewhat feeble yell from upstairs, and Castiel reluctantly stops and pulls back. Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, attempting to compose his emotions.

"How about I go check on Emma and you start the cooking? I promise to give you a call if she seems off or if I don’t know what to do."

"You sure?" Dean asks gingerly, looking at Castiel like he suggested to step into a lion's den.

"Yes. Besides, if anything goes wrong, you're probably going to hear me scream and come rescue me", he adds jokingly, making Dean chuckle.

Castiel grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and makes his way up the stairs. He's never been to this part of Dean's house before, and it looks similar to his own home, with a long corridor that has multiple rooms attached to it.

The first room appears to be Dean's bedroom, because it has a sticker of a black Impala car at the bottom. The following room turns out to be a bathroom, and there's another room on the other side of the hallway, but it is clear where Emma's room is because of the soft flickering lights emanating for the door.

Emma's room is surprisingly not pink given her fondness of unicorns and fairies, but it has many pictures of family members hanging on the walls, as well as an assortment of stuffed plushies. Castiel also spots a tiny table with the famous tea set he's already had the pleasure of encountering. Emma herself is lying in her canopied bed, looking a little pale and sickly.

The moment she sees Castiel, she sits up and smiles. "Mr. Cas!" she calls cheerfully.

"Hey, Emma, how are you feeling?" he asks, placing the water bottle on the small nightstand next to the bed and sitting down on the carpet, careful not to touch the huge wet spot that signifies the location of Emma's accident.

"I threwed up on Daddy, my tummy hurt…" she explains, pointing to her belly that is currently hidden under a stack of blankets.

"I'm sorry to hear that, would you like some more water? You need to drink so that your body will stay strong while he fights away the sickness."

"I already dranked", she replies, pointing to a half empty bottle placed beside her on the covers. "Where's Daddy?"

"He's cooking us dinner; would you like for me to go and get him?"

"No, I'm glad you came to visit me. Maybe you can read me a story?" she asks, and the look on her face lets Castiel know that it's more a command than a suggestion.

He nods and gets up, scanning the array of books on a nearby low shelf. "Which one would you like?" he asks, choosing one and presenting it for her to see the front cover.

"Not this one", she states confidently.

Castiel picks up another book, one that has two dogs riding a Farris wheel on the cover.

"Not that one either."

He picks another, and then another, but Emma refuses them all, and Castiel begins to understand some people's reluctance for having children. When Emma turns down what feels like the eighth book in a row, Castiel gives up.

"How about I tell you a story I know? It's about a Viking boy named Cnut who was once the king of England, Denmark, and Norway all at once", he suggests, and is relieved to see Emma's face light up with interest.

"Yes, I want to hear it!" she calls, and Castiel retakes his position on the carpet, but removes his shoes to make himself more comfortable. He leans his back against Emma's bed, and starts by briefly telling her about the bloodline of Scandinavian warriors and rulers such as Sweyn Forkbeard and Harald "Bluetooth", leading up to Cnut's birth.

Loyal to the tradition of the old Norse Eddas or Skalds (as the poets writing hero tales were called), Castiel spends time describing the military and social success of Cnut and his associates, and by the time he reaches the conquest of London, Emma is already sound asleep and wheezing softly.

Pleased with himself, Castiel gets up slowly, grabbing his shoes and climbing back down the stairs. He leaves his shoes by the front door, then heads for the kitchen. Dean is standing with his back to him, stirring something on the stove. He's got the red apron on, and is humming a tune that sounds vaguely like AC/DC's Thunderstruck, while swaying his hips from side to side.

Castiel stares at him quietly, heart growing three sizes bigger with affection towards the man. He still can't believe he was foolish enough to think that Dean was anything other than a charming, intelligent, sensitive person, one that had snuck his way into Castiel's heart in a short period of time.

It is honestly scary how badly Castiel wants this to work out, how much he longs to be close to Dean, both physically and emotionally. He's never felt this way before with any of his former partners, never felt such desire to know someone and bond with him in both body and soul. He's spent his life running away from the possibility of failure or being let down, but right now, all he wants to do is jump headfirst into whatever was happening between Dean and him, without even thinking about consequences.

He sneaks behind Dean and wraps his arms around his trim waist, causing him to jump and squeal in a pitch so high, he is certain Dean will forever deny reaching. The other man turns in his embrace and places his hands on Castiel's shoulders, returning the hug.

"I'm almost done with the sauce, and then we can eat" he announces, "how's Emm?"

"Asleep. I bored her to sleep with tales of brave conquests and extensive ancestry charts" Castiel replies, smiling proudly at his own achievement.

Dean raises an eyebrow then laughs. "I should record you for future use whenever I'm having trouble falling asleep myself."

"I can think of a few ways for me to wear you down other than using my voice" Castiel says teasingly.

"I bet", Dean replies, bucking his hips forward a little to emphasize his intention, "but I promised to feed you so we're going to do that first, and then we'll discuss dessert."

****

Castiel leans back in his chair, placing a hand on his overindulged stomach. "This was beyond delicious", he says, gesturing towards his empty plate.

"I have indeed excelled myself tonight, for some reason I felt inspired", Dean says, wiping down the remainder of sauce from his plate with a piece of bread and munching on it.

"In that case, you should feel inspired every day, because this was the best gnocchi I've ever had."

"I think I just wanted to make sure you'd want to come back for more", Dean replies, smiling bashfully.

"Dean… me wanting to come here has nothing to do with your cooking. Well, it’s part of the appeal, but I'd be willing to come back even if all you had to offer me was PB & J sandwiches."

"I actually know how to make an amazing version of these using white wine and real strawberries…"

"Oh, come on, you know what I mean…" Castiel chides him, then laughs when Dean makes a pouty face. "I really want to kiss that pout away", Castiel discloses, "But I don’t think I can move right now."

"Why don’t you sit down while I clean this up, and then we can watch a movie and see if we can get your kissing muscle back in order", Dean suggests, getting up to clear the dishes away.

Castiel vigorously shakes his head no at that offer, and after a short deliberation they settle for Castiel starting on the dishes while Dean checks in on the still sleeping Emma. Her fever is down, and she's stopped throwing up, which is a good sign. When Dean comes back into the kitchen, Castiel has already washed all the plates, cleaned the table, and placed the rest of the food safely inside the fridge.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he says, scanning his immaculate kitchen. "I can't recall the last time anyone's helped me take care of house chores, and you just waltz in and go for it like it isn't a big deal…"

"It isn't a big deal", Castiel replies, wiping his hands down with a cloth. "When I moved to Chicago I had to learn to do everything from scratch. I didn’t even know how to do laundry… had to wear pink undergarments for a year before I figured out how to properly separate the colored items from the whites."

Dean laughs. "I bet you were a marvel in pink."

"I suppose, but I thought you preferred my bunny outfit."

"I prefer you with nothing on, like the first time we met. Thought I'd died and gone to heaven when you opened that door practically naked and smelling of soap."

They make their way into Dean's lounge room that's located at the back of the first floor. It's got a large couch, a huge flat screen TV, a mini fridge, and even a vintage arcade box standing under a shelf full of DVDs.

"I call it the 'Dean Cave', even though it looks nothing like a cave, and Emma keeps sneaking in to watch SpongeBob SquarePants, but it's the thought that counts", Dean explains, making a displeased face while Castiel laughs.

They stand for a couple of minutes examining Dean's collection of favorite movies. Castiel isn't exactly a movie buff, so he lets Dean pick something for them to watch. They settle for The Lost World: Jurassic Park because Dean claims it's a must watch. He offers to make popcorn despite the fact that the two of them are full to the brim from their incredible dinner, so they end up just getting a beer each.

The movie is full of action and gut wrenching in parts, and Castiel isn't sure exactly how, but halfway through, Dean and he are no longer watching the screen, but instead making out like a couple of horny teenagers.

They start seated side by side, facing each other, and Dean is sucking bruises onto Castiel's neck while his own hands roam under Dean's shirt, stroking the smooth skin underneath. Dean stops his attack on Castiel's collar bone a couple of times to crash their lips together, and his kisses are hungry and impatient, like he wants to devour Castiel whole.

Another shift in position brings Castiel to lie down on top of Dean, framing his face with both hands and licking into his mouth. Dean moans and writhes under him, and there's an obvious erection poking at Castiel's thigh indicating how onboard Dean is with what they are doing. Castiel feels much the same, and pretty soon he is rock hard and leaking inside his elegant, tailored slacks.

Castiel sits up eventually, frustrated by the lack of skin contact, and unbuttons his dress shirt, sliding it off his shoulders while Dean watches, mouth agape and pupils lust blown. "I can't believe how hot you are", he mumbles once Castiel is bare-chested, then moves his hands down Castiel's chest, caressing it as if checking to see if he's real.

"I need you to take off your shirt, Dean", Castiel says, delighted to see Dean shiver lightly at his commanding tone, then pull his T-shirt off. He's stunning just like Castiel suspected, all hard muscles and tanned skin, with a hint of pudge around the belly. Castiel thinks he's the most exquisite man he's ever seen in his life, and he leans forward and sucks a tender nipple into his mouth, brushing his teeth on it gently to get it to harden.

Dean moans and arches his back in response, hands moving over Castiel's torso then making their way down to cup his clothed ass and squeeze it. Castiel chuckles and releases Dean's nipple, then moves his lips further up the man's chest and neck, kissing, licking and at times carefully biting the skin.

"Cas…" Dean sighs, voice low and full of longing, "wanna feel you". He reaches between their bodies for Castiel's zipper, and tries to pull it down, but the angle is all wrong. Castiel moves to stand up, pulling Dean along with him, then reaches to undo his own pants quickly, not wanting to waste anymore time being apart from his object of desire.

Dean does the same, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his shoes, then steps out of his pants. They stand there for a moment looking at each other with starving eyes. Dean is wearing a plaid patterned blue boxers, while Castiel has on a pair of simple grey trunks. The line of his hard cock is evident through the thin cotton, with the head peeking out from the waistband. Dean's own impressive arousal is tenting his briefs as well. They are clearly on the same page, and eager to explore this attraction between them even further.

"I suggest you lock the door, and then I want to taste you", Castiel says, sitting down on the edge of the couch and palming his aching cock through his underwear. Dean does just that, then returns to stand in front of Castiel, strong looking and beautiful like something out of a fantasy tale.

Castiel doesn’t speak as he pulls down Dean's boxers to reveal his thick cock, that has a slight curve to the left, and a purple head glistening with pre come. He licks his lips then leans to take the tip into his mouth, and Dean makes a surprised little gasp, allowing Castiel to pull him forward by the hips.

Castiel starts licking along Dean's erection, experimenting in order to find his most sensitive spots. He wants to get Dean begging and moaning his name, wants him to fall apart by his touch. Dean groans when Castiel gently grazes his teeth, then presses his tongue across a soft spot under the head of his cock, so Castiel does it again, this time more intently.

"F…fuck…" Dean whispers, and his hands come to rest on Castiel's shoulders, gently grabbing at them for stability. Castiel gives the confirmed spot some more attention, then moves to gently suck the tip into his mouth, bobbing up and down the shaft while simultaneously flicking his tongue.

"Ah… fuck, Cas… feels good", Dean moans, and Castiel looks up to see Dean watching him with big eyes full of awe. Castiel maintains eye contact while continuing to bob his head, taking Dean deeper into his throat, and this time applying strong suction whenever he reaches the tip. Dean's knees shake, and his hands tighten their grip on Castiel's arms. He keeps gasping repeatedly, head now tilted back and eyes closed shut.

"Oh… yeah… oh god, Cas…it's so good…" he whines, hips starting to slowly push back and forth in a thrusting motion. After a couple more thrusts he suddenly stops and pulls back, looking somewhat bewildered. "Had to stop… I was getting too close…" he breaths, sounding entranced.

"Come here", Castiel says, voice thick with arousal. Dean sits on his lap and kisses him, latching onto his mouth like it's a source for oxygen. "You have a very talented mouth", Dean mumbles in between heated kisses, then moves his hands to his briefs, delicately pulling out Castiel's achingly hard cock.

Castiel groans when he feels Dean's big hands on him, fingers running up and down, exploring the length and girth of his rod. Castiel isn't small by any means, but he doesn’t have a "monster cock" either. Dean seems pleased with what he finds however, humming approvingly as he keeps pumping the shaft slowly.

"Next time we do this, I want to get you on a proper bed, so I could ride you", Dean says, leaning forward so that his own cock brushes against Castiel's as he moves on his lap.

"Can't wait" Castiel whispers, overwhelmed by the sensation of their members sliding together, slick with pre come inside Dean's fist. Dean picks up the pace, jerking them both fast and hard while letting out the most amazing sounds. Castiel can tell he's close judging by the heavy flush in his cheeks and the way he moans brokenly every time his hand moves up and down.

"Fuck… yeah… fuck" Dean whines, and Castiel grabs him by the waist, angling him slightly to be able to place open mouthed kisses along his jawline.

"You wanna come, Dean?" he teases, knowing he is also charging towards his own climax.

"Gonna come" Dean says like it's a fact of life, throwing his head back as his cock leaks another blob of pearly white liquid.

"Fuck…" Castiel groans when he sees the way it rolls down on both their dicks. He places his own hand on top of Dean's fist to keep his movements steady. "Do it, Dean, want to watch you come all over me."

"Oh, shit… shit… gonna come, Cas…" Dean warns, then Castiel feels his rhythm stutter and his body go rigid on top of Castiel's, as he starts to spurt splash after splash of hot cum that land on Castiel's stomach and spills over their fingers. He moans loudly, face contorted in a display of pure ecstasy.

"Fuck, Dean, you're so beautiful" Castiel sighs, and all it takes is a couple more precise strokes and a twist of a wrist to get him to shudder and come hard, adding to the mess between them. Dean keeps milking him through the aftershocks until he can't take the sensations anymore, and bats Dean's hand away.

Castiel leans back against the couch, completely spent, while Dean slumps down on top of him. He can feel their heaving chests moving together, and he gently strokes Dean's sweaty back to let him know he's very pleased with what had just transpired.

"I don’t think I've come this hard in years", Dean mumbles into his neck, and Castiel chuckles, because it takes him a while to comprehend his lover's muffled, exhausted sounding words.

"I really enjoyed it", Castiel says. All he wants to do is lie down and cuddle Dean on this very couch, and get some shut eye, but he knows it's risky for them to remain like this with Emma sleeping upstairs.

Eventually, Dean groans and gets up from his lap, rubbing his throbbing thighs. "Can you wait here?" he asks, like he's afraid Castiel is going to run off the minute he gets a chance. "I'm gonna grab a washcloth to wipe us down, and maybe you'd like something sweet afterwards?"

"But I've just had something sweet", Castiel replies humorously, and Dean laughs and picks his clothes up from the floor, then disappears into the hallway. He returns a couple of minutes late, dressed in a fresh pair of white pajama pants and a matching "Lynard Skynyrd" shirt. He hands Castiel a moist towel to wipe himself with, and a pair of light blue sweatpants to change into.

Once they are both relatively clean and comfortable, they head back into the kitchen and Dean makes them some herbal tea and slices a generous piece of frozen pecan pie for each of them.

"I always keep one in the freezer just in case anyone decides to pay us a visit. Charlie is known to drop by unannounced and hungry, and I don’t always find the time to make something from scratch in the last minute', Dean explains as they nibble on the scrumptious tasting dessert.

"You're a model housewife", Castiel taunts, earning himself a smack on the back with the dishtowel Dean is currently holding.

"Does that make you my househusband, then?" Dean says, and Castiel can see the moment he realizes what he just said, and panics.

"I suppose it does", he quickly replies, to make Dean see that he's not afraid of admitting he likes him back. Dean visibly relaxes, and drinks his tea while Castiel finishes the rest of the pie left in the pan. He can't believe he's just had sex with Dean Winchester, someone he used to hate, but now he can't seem to get enough of.

Castiel isn't sure how Dean feels about the two of them officially dating. He doesn’t mind the fact that Dean is a dad, it actually makes him sexier given the amount of love and care he shows for his daughter. He also doesn’t mind that Dean is not an academic. Castiel has dated his fair share of colleagues to know that some of them are just pompous assholes who think a degree is enough to make a person valuable.

There is of course the matter of his year of trial in Lawrence until he can sell his parents' house. Castiel still isn't sure that this is the right place for him to live. There are less opportunities for someone with his occupation than there are in the city, and he still fears of painful memories popping up and catching him off guard, but he currently enjoys his job, and the small inheritance his parents left for him is enough to make sure he gets by for the foreseeable future.

"What are you thinking about?" Dean asks, pulling Castiel away from his reflections. Castiel looks up and smiles at him reassuringly because he knows how fragile he himself feels after sharing a piece of his body and soul with someone else, like he just did with Dean.

"I was thinking of you… us, and how I would like to take you out on another date if you'd be willing. We can take Emma for a picnic and a hike, maybe get some ice-cream at Harvell's then watch a movie together. I don’t actually care what type of activity we do, as long as I get to spend more time with you."

Before he can blink, Dean is moving to stand in front of him, between his legs, and is kissing him stupid. He forgets everything as Dean's soft lips tangle with his, and his tongue moves along the seem of Castiel's lips, seeking entry, which he gladly permits. Unlike their former, more demanding kisses, this one is all tenderness and warmth. Dean takes his time, cupping Castiel's face with his palms and pressing up against him.

When Dean finally breaks their kiss, Castiel is panting and feeling slightly disheveled, and is also definitely ready to pull the other man back onto the nearest couch for round two. But then, out of nowhere, Dean pinches his arm, and he lets out a yelp loud enough he fears it might wake up Emma.

"Why'd you do that for?" Castiel asks, staring at Dean in dismay.

"Wanted to make sure you were real, because there's no way anyone is this perfect."

"You're supposed to pinch yourself, then, not me!" Castiel cries, gently rubbing the reddening spot on his arm.

"I'm sorry, Babe", Dean says, but he's chuckling mischievously as he puts their dirty dishes back in the sink.

"I'm beginning to regret my former statement" Castiel complains, but smiles, delighted to learn that Dean also has a bratty side to him, which means he might be amenable to engage in some form of reward and punishment play later on.

Castiel checks his phone for the first time since he arrived in Dean's house, noticing it's very late and starting to feel fatigued. He's not comfortable offering to sleep in Dean's bed, especially without letting Emma know first, and given that his house is only a couple of steps away, he thinks it's time for him to depart.

"I'm going to go home now", he says, and Dean seems incredibly disappointed, but nods. "I'll talk to you tomorrow and we'll plan that date?", he asks in an attempt to make Dean seem as happy as he was only moments ago.

"Yes, and if I don’t hear from you until lunchtime me and Emm are going to pillage your ass", Dean says with a wink, but Castiel knows there is actual insecurity hidden behind his words. He remembers what Charlie said about Dean having trouble expressing his emotions.

"I will call you, Dean, I want this just as much as I hope you do."

"I do, very much."

"Ok, goodnight then… thank you for an amazing dinner and an even better dessert" Castiel says, taking one last look at the gorgeous man that's watching him from across the kitchen with a cautious little smile.

"Good night, Cas, sweet dreams."

Chapter Text

He dreams of Anna again. She was standing by the treehouse, and was beckoning him with her hand to come closer. Castiel approached her in the dream, and she kissed him on the cheek lightly then pushed him in the direction of the tree, as if encouraging him to take the ladder. He climbed into the treehouse only to find that the interior suddenly looked like the inside of Dean's house. Castiel glanced down from his position to where Anna was to ask what was happening, but she was already gone.

He comes to his senses gradually, finding himself in Dean's bed. His lover is practically lying on top of him, his sandy-blond head resting on Castiel's bare chest, arm thrown across his waist. Dean is gently snoring, deep in sleep and looking perfectly serene. He truly was amazing, and every day they spent together, Castiel was becoming more and more infatuated with him.

It took some time getting used to being a part of a committed, adult relationship, especially when there was a kid involved. Castiel was afraid that if things don’t work out, it might affect his connection with Emma, but so far, she was actually the one being all casual and relaxed about Castiel suddenly spending the majority of his days, and nights, in their house.

Castiel shifts carefully in an attempt to stretch his trapped limbs, and Dean mumbles something incoherent then tightens the grip he has on his waist. Dean is a very warm person, always touching and wanting to stay close to Castiel, and much to his surprise, Castiel loves it, and can’t get enough of Dean's caresses and gentle expressions of fondness towards him.

When Castiel tries to stretch again, feeling his leg growing numb, Dean makes a grumpy little sound, then lifts his messy bedhead and blinks at Castiel with a pair of sleepy, green eyes.

"Hey, Baby…" Castiel coos, as a wave of affection washes over him. He's never cared for anyone the way he does Dean, it's uncanny how quickly he's fallen for him, how all-consuming his desire is for the other man. He wants to make Dean happy, wants to hear him laugh, make sure he's healthy and feeling safe.

"Good morning, Bugs", Dean grates, voice heavy from slumber. He starts spreading little kisses on Castiel's chest, moving leisurely across his torso. Castiel gives into the soothing touch, closing his eyes and allowing his lover to take care of him. Dean continues his mission of getting Castiel all stimulated, and as he moves down Castiel's body, he can feel Dean's morning wood brushing against his hip.

"Someone's happy to see me", he whispers amusedly. It's flattering to have Dean constantly ready to make love to him and eager to try whatever Castiel's kinky mind proposes. They may not have a lot of play time with their demanding jobs and Dean's parenting responsibilities, but so far they've managed to find those special, fleeting moments of joy that help keep the attraction going for the past five months.

"I've been dreaming about touching you, and now I wake up and here you are, my sexy little bunny, all for me…" Dean murmurs, then his head disappears under the covers, and a moment later Castiel's already firm cock is engulfed in an amazingly wet heat.

He groans and writhes while Dean sucks him down deeper and deeper between his plump lips. It feels amazing to have Dean worship him with his mouth, devouring Castiel like he's the most delicious treat. Dean gives it his all, moving his head up and down, swirling his tongue around the tip of his cock, and fondling his balls gently.

"Dean…" Castiel gasps, sensing a familiar tightening in his stomach muscles signaling the assent of his desire. He snakes his hand under the blanket to capture Dean's chin with his fingers and tenderly drag him back up. Dean moves sensually up Castiel's body, ending with a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I want you, Bunny… I'm so hard for you", He purrs, taking Castiel's hand in his and placing it on his extremely stiff cock. Castiel gives it a few pumps, enjoying the way Dean closes his eyes and moans wantonly.

"Whatever you want, Baby", he says softly, "tell me what you need."

"Wanna ride you, I need you inside me…", Dean whispers, then reaches for the nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. Castiel nods, shifting on the bed so that he currently lies on his side facing his lover. He takes the bottle and squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers, then positions himself alongside Dean, who's currently lying on his back with his knees raised and spread apart. He presses the tip of his slippery finger to Dean's hole, waiting patiently for his lover to relax.

"Breathe, Baby" he pleads, and when Dean turns his head Castiel captures his lips in a soft kiss. Once Dean calms down and his rim gently flutters, Castiel pushes the digit inside, slowly but surely sliding it until he can move freely. He starts thrusting his finger in and out of Dean, crooking it until it brushes against his prostate.

Dean groans, pressing down against Castiel's hand, and it's a sign for the blue-eyed man to add a second finger and expand his range of movement. "Ah… fuck…" Dean whimpers loudly on a particularly effective stroke of Castiel's digit against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him.

"You need to stay quiet, Baby, we don’t want Emm to hear us" Castiel reminds him, and the next time Dean whines uncontrollably, Castiel swallows the noises by kissing him quiet.

They engage in a couple more minutes of teasing, until Dean is a moaning mess, begging Castiel to fuck him already because he can't take it anymore. Castiel removes his hand, and before he gets a chance to ask Dean what he wants, the other man is pushing him down against the bed and mounts him. He grabs hold of Castiel's cock than lowers himself until Castiel is fully sheathed inside. They both gasp at the overwhelming thrill of being this close to one another.

Dean looks incredibly erotic as he begins to ride Castiel, sweaty, dark-blond curls falling on his forehead and his chest all flushed with arousal. His dick is bobbing along with every bounce he makes on Castiel's lap. He's so unembarrassed about expressing his lust, and it turns Castiel on more than anything.

"Fuck, Baby… you look so good… feels so good to be inside you", he gasps, taking hold of Dean's hips to assist with his up and down movements. Dean only groans in response, then starts slamming hard on Castiel's cock, making the bed creak, and risking them waking up Emma.

"Dean… we… have to... be quiet", Castiel utters, but his self-control is quickly slipping away with the way Dean is riding him like his life depend on it.

Dean leans down and kisses him again messily, gently biting on Castiel's lower lip. "I need it harder", he whispers, looking at Castiel with pleading, hooded eyes. Castiel grabs him and carefully switches places with him so that he's got Dean's calves resting on his shoulders. He takes both Dean's hands in his and pins them above his head while holding onto his wrists. He smiles cheekily at his wrecked looking lover, then pushes into him with as much force as he can gather from his position.

Dean cries out, throwing his head back against the pillows and closing his eyes shut. Castiel keeps a punishing pace, thrusting relentlessly while attempting to swallow Dean's loud whimpers and moans with kisses. He usually loves how vocal Dean is, how uninhibited he sounds when receiving and giving pleasure, but right now they are at risk of waking his daughter and ruining the rest of their morning delight.

Castiel growls when he feels Dean's inner muscles clench around his dick, letting him know that his lover is on the precipice of coming. He lets go of Dean's hands and supports himself while one of his hands sneaks between their slippery bodies to take hold of Dean's cock. He pumps it in tandem with his powerful shoves, watching the crease between Dean's eyebrows become deeper as he loses himself in the sensations. He likes this part, when his lover is completely at his mercy, likes to watch him submit to the most primitive urges, shamelessly chasing his release.

"'m close… so close…" Dean whines, and Castiel changes rhythm, this time driving in slowly, languidly rolling his hips, but pushing deeper inside his lover, rubbing against his tight walls in a way he knows makes Dean go wild.

"Fuck… fuck… Cas… Cas…" Dean starts chanting, and the next time Castiel strokes Dean's cock and slams into him hard, he explodes all over his own belly and chest, grunting loudly with each spurt that shoots out of him. Castiel makes sure to milk him dry, then returns his attention to his own soaring pleasure, to the intensity of slipping in and out of his lover's hole. He fucks into Dean a couple more times, then buries his scream in Dean's neck as a powerful orgasm erupts from him in waves.

"Fuck, Bunny… I love you so much…" Dean murmurs in his ear while Castiel tries to recover. He collapses next to Dean on the bed, panting heavily.

"Love you, too, Baby…" he breaths, closing his eyes to enjoy this moment of utter bliss. They've never said that to each other before, but it actually feels so natural to word it out, so effortless. Castiel was always so scared of falling in love, of exposing himself to someone else's whims, but here, with Dean, it just feels so right, so incredibly real.

"I need a shower" Dean says, smelling his armpits and making a disgusted face, "but you've sexed me to death, and now I can't move."

Castiel laughs, feeling just as exhausted even though they woke up from a pleasant night's sleep. "I'll just go shower by myself, then", he says, pulling himself up from the bed, "… and wash my own hair, and rub my own chest…"

"You play dirty", Dean scolds, because Castiel knows how much Dean likes it when they shower together. It's one of the highlights of his day, an intimate moment for the two of them to bond without the rest of the world watching.

When Castiel told Meg Dean and he were dating, she flew over from Chicago to meet the guy who stole her Clarence's heart. She grilled Dean with questions, made Emma cry by saying that she didn’t like her green polka dot dress, then basically flew back home after giving her seal of approval for the match.

His brother Gabe was just as delighted to hear that Castiel was doing well and feeling comfortable in his old-new environment. He invited the three of them to come visit him in Spain during the summer, but made Castiel swear not to throw the wedding (if and when it happens of course) in Lawrence. He said that going back once was enough for him, and that some places are better left away from the eye and away from the heart.

Castiel wasn’t even mad at his brother. He understood. It was hard for him to come back and face the painful memories of his upbringing, challenging to think of his dead parents every time he opened his bedroom door, wandering what would have happened if Anna was still alive, imagining what it would be like to have a supportive, accepting family instead of the one he had…

When he told Dean about his feelings, his partner just hugged him and told him that he can still have that sense of belonging, still find acceptance with Emma and him. Dean once again apologized for the way he behaved towards Castiel when they were children, saying that he now realizes how powerful words can be because he's got a child that is going to grow into the world, with all its ugliness as well as its beauty.

Castiel sometimes found himself pushing away his anxiety when he picked Emma up from school, the very school he once dreaded attending every single day, but it was getting better, and new, joyful memories were replacing the old ones. The movie theater where Luke once spilled an entire popcorn bowl on his head, was now the location of Dean and his first real date, where they made out again instead of watching the film they paid for.

The old playground at the end of the street, where mean kids laughed at him when he fell from his bike, was now the first place he took Emma alone for a walk. They built a Viking compound in the sandbox, and Emma's stick troupes (acting as Ragnar Lothbrock's army) defeated Castiel's stone soldiers (imposing as king Charles the Bald's men) in a recreation of the year 845 siege of Paris.

The first time Emma mentioned her absent mother to him was when Dean got hold up at work, and Castiel agreed to pick her up from school and make her dinner. It was essentially a slightly burnt grilled cheese toast that lacked the finesse of Dean's creations but was edible, nonetheless, and a cup of hot cacao which Castiel prided himself in perfecting.

Emma set across from him on the other side of the kitchen island, and put down her food to look at Castiel intently. "I don’t have a mother", she suddenly said, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

"I don’t have a mother, either", Castiel replied after a thought. He always felt like children deserved not to be lied to, and he translated it to his communication with Emma as well, after checking with Dean that it was in fact acceptable.

"Does it make you sad?"

"Not anymore, because there's plenty of other people who love me."

"Daddy loves you", she said, smiling at him like it's a secret she's not supposed to reveal.

"How do you know?"

"Because he told me. And because he always smiles when you come to dinner, and he lets you kiss him, and you're only supposed to kiss people you already know and love", she concluded while Castiel melted in his chair.

"I love him, too… and you", Castiel said, "I want you two to be happy."

"Then you should eat dinner here all the time."

Castiel chuckled. "But what about my house?"

"This can be your house, and you can sleep in the guestroom if Daddy ever makes you angry."

Castiel burst out laughing. "I'll think about it", he said, smiling at the sweet little girl who already felt like family to him. He cared for her deeply, and appreciated her kind nature and inquisitive mind.

"I don’t like Meg, though, she's mean", Emma added, making a face.

"Yeah, sometimes, but she's the best friend a person can ask for, so I forgive her for that."

"I can be your new best friend, but you have to come to my tea parties", Emma suggested, making Castiel laugh all over again.

****

A year isn’t such a long time after all, and Castiel ended up selling his parents' house to a nice family named the Stynes, who wanted to renovate the entire place. He had officially moved into Dean's house four months prior to that, and he and Dean carefully dismantled and relocated the treehouse onto Dean's backyard. It was important for Castiel to have that reminder of his past, one that also served as the gateway to his future.

Working at the museum has been unchallenging academically speaking in comparison to the thrill of going out into the wilderness and doing real detective work, but Castiel managed to spend more time researching and expanding his knowledge, and even organize a special exhibition celebrating Shield Maidens, the women Viking warriors, that was dedicated to his sister Anna and his mother.

Things started quickly falling into domestic bliss, but Castiel and Dean made sure to leave time for fun and social gatherings. They frequently went to Charlie's place for game nights (while Emma was left under the careful watch of Miss Mosely, Dean's other neighbor), and made sure to go on a date at least once or twice a month. Dean was also attempting to teach him how to cook, which so far resulted in a ruined frying pan and an excruciating two hours for Castiel because he forgot you're not supposed to touch your eyelids after cutting jalapenos.

He was probably never going to become America's next top chef, but they had fun playing around in the kitchen and starting food fights that ended in messy make out sessions against the counter, and a whole lot of cleaning to do.

In the summer, they had plans to visit Gabe and Kali in Barcelona, and Dean was acting strange the entire week prior to that. Castiel thought it was due to his extensive fear of flying, but they had already consulted his doctor about it, and he prescribed Dean sleeping pills to help ease the stress during the flight. On the morning of their flight, Castiel finally snaps and catches his lover just as he is coming out of their ensuite shower.

He crowds Dean against a wall, kissing him deeply before pulling back to look him in the eyes. Dean is good at behaving all professional and composed around other people, but Castiel can tell what he is really feeling just by looking at those gorgeous forest green orbs, who usually disclose everything he needs to know about the state of mind of the man he loves.

"What's going on with you? you’ve been nervous all week. Do you not think this vacation is a good idea? Do you think Emma might not get along with Gabe?"

"No, Bunny, nothing like that, I'm just… excited", Dean mumbles, but his attempt at averting his eyes makes Castiel anxious as to what is really happening. Maybe Dean has a change of heart about the entire thing, about them in general?

"Dean, I can see that you're not being honest with me, please, tell me what's wrong…"

"Nothing is wrong, Cas, it's my fear of flying, that's all…" Dean says, moving across the room rearranging items that are already in place.

"No, it's not. I don’t mean to pressure you, but you're scaring me. Is it us, Baby? Did I do something?" Cas asks, feeling that all-consuming panic rushing through his veins. If Dean wants to break up with him, he's going to be devastated, and may never recover. He loves Dean so much, cares for him and Emma so passionately. He plops down on the edge of their bed, grabbing his head between his hands in an attempt to calm down. He doesn’t want to be like this, like the old Castiel who let fear take the reins.

He feels tears prickling in his eyes, his thoughts are all over the place, from how he is going to tell Gabe that they aren’t coming, to how he's going to start packing his things when Dean tells him to get out of his house… then Dean sits down next to him on the bed, placing a hand on his lower back.

"Fuck, Cas, I never meant for you to get so worried… I didn’t want to tell you what was happening, because I wanted it to be a surprise."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asks, voice shaken. He looks up to see Dean staring at him with a mixture of concern and fondness.

"Me and Emm wanted to surprise you. We got matching bunny onesies, and were planning on getting changed once we reach the airport, and then… I was going to ask you to marry me…" Dean whispers, blushing to the tips of his ears.

Castiel stares at him open mouthed. The recognition of how stupid he is slowly sinking in. "Oh", is all he manages to say, and then he smiles at the thought of Dean wanting to make it official, to finally declare them a family. "I would have said yes", he utters.

Dean punches him in the shoulder. "Dammit, Cas… you silly bunny, you scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean to ruin the surprise."

"Well, Emm is going to kill me for telling you, so you have to pretend like you knew nothing, and practice looking shocked when we jump out of the airport toilets dressed like a pair of lunatics", Dean says, giggling.

"Well, if the two of you are going to be running around an airport in bunny suits, we need someone to record it…"

"Already called Charlie, she's expecting us there", Dean says, looking smug like he's just confessed the most elaborate, vicious scheme.

"I also have a little surprise for you, while we're at it", Castiel says, taking Dean's hands in his. He probably has better poker face than Dean, because he's been planning his idea for months, and Dean hasn’t suspected a thing. "Sam, Eileen and the kids are going to join us in Barcelona. I used the money from selling the house to get them plane tickets."

"Shut up!" Dean says, face lit up in wander.

"As you wish", Castiel says playfully. He's flooded with bliss, everything he's worked so hard to overcome is finally narrowing down to this exact moment of Dean and him working together in order to make each other happy.

"No, wait… don’t shut up… are you actually going to say yes?"

"Of course Dean, I'll gladly marry you. you and Emm are the most important people in my life… you're all I ever wanted", Castiel replies, and the tears gathering in his eyes are now a sign of joy instead of sorrow.

Dean kisses him, pushing Castiel down on the bed and pressing their lips so tight together Castiel knows he's going to have trouble breathing soon.

Perhaps it was a mistake coming back to Lawrence, facing the demons that haunted him for so many years, acknowledging that some things can't be resolved or undone, that some people will never understand just how powerful and destructive their actions can be, but if it was in fact a mistake, it was the best one Castiel's ever made.