Part 2
ll Part 1 ll Part 2 ll Part 3 ll Part 4 ll Part 5 ll
Castiel, or Cas, as Dean’s quickly informed to call him, finds him early the next day. Ironically, as he’s sitting down to sketch… Ironic, because most of his sketches since last night have been of Cas. Not the one he’s doing at the moment, thankfully. He doesn’t feel like Cas would get pissed or anything, but he’s pretty sure there would be some questions that he doesn’t actually have the answer to.
At first he’d thought it was just to thank him, because, for some reason, Cas isn’t blaming him for - you know - putting him in mortal peril in the first place. Not anymore anyway. But after he’d thanked him, Cas hadn’t left - just sat down and started watching him work, an even expression on his face. Apprently deciding someone okay enough to spend the day with.
Dean had raised an eyebrow, when he first sat down, especially because, well, damn, it’s third class if Cas hadn’t noticed. But fuck if that’s what he wants, Dean isn’t gonna be the one to tell him to shoo. So he’d shrugged his shoulders and kept drawing, and even now, a half hour later, he‘s still silent as he moves his pencil across the page, finishing the form of a young mother, feeling the other’s stare.
“You’re very good.” The graveled voice is quiet but earnest and it’s the first time Dean’s really been spoken to when the other isn’t a) thanking him or b) hanging over the edge of a ship.
He looks up and shrugs. “I’m okay.” When his eyes glance over the sketch that Cas is looking at with so much respect, he only sees the flaws. “Got lessons from some artists I met down in Paris, now they were good. Me, I just dabble.” He carefully adds one last mark and calls the sketch as done as it’s going to be for now; shutting his book and setting down the pencil. What he really wants to say is now what? But Cas isn’t looking at him anymore and is eyeing the sketchbook instead, with evident curiosity, clearly considering something.
“May I?” He finally asks and Dean shrugs again, he usually doesn’t make it a thing to hand around his work unless someone’s paying, but Cas looks legitimately interested so he hands over the sketchbook, making sure to flip all the way to the back. He’s had this book for ages now, and hopes the other doesn’t come across his own face as he looks.
The dark haired man peers down at the sketches intently. He moves unblinkingly past several naked women and one man that Dean thought would shock him, but seems to prefer the scenes from Dean’s everyday life, turning past old beggar women, muddy children and someone’s hand, before stopping at one of Sam reading a book on his bed. The other’s long fingers move to trace the outline of the figure in the center of the page.
“You like this man,” He says simply, “it’s evident in the lines.”
Dean chuckles lowly, “Jealous?” He grins and then shakes his head, before Cas gets a chance to respond. “Nah, that’s my brother, Sammy.” Secretly, he’s pleased Cas chose that one to stop on, he’s really proud of it.
“Oh,” Cas responds with a smile of his own, and Dean can’t help but think that he likes that smile, likes it a lot. “Well I suppose it’s true then, you do like him.”
Dean takes his sketchbook back and lightly smacks Cas on the side of his arm, he doesn’t know if that’s allowed or not, but then again, he reasons, he’s not sure if the Cas sitting here thing is allowed either and that’s still happening.
Cas doesn’t react at all to it though and his smile doesn’t fade, so Dean takes it as an okay and grins even wider. “Yeah, I guess so.” He shakes his head. “Sammy’s actually who I’m going to America for, haven’t seen him in a while. Figured it was time.” He doesn’t mean to let his tone get wistful, but it does anyway.
Cas looks at him as if to say continue, so Dean does, explains in the soft, proud, voice he always uses when talking about his brother. “He went off to Columbia. Smart jerk. And you know, it was what he wanted and they paid for everything… Which… helped, but it’s hard, you know?”
There’s no response, but a hand finds itself on top of his and he looks up, Cas looks serious now. “You’ll see him soon, Dean.” And the funny thing is the other is finally touching him, in a not holy crap I’m falling kind of way, and it’s nothing but comfortable.
But it does go on for just a moment too long, long enough for comfort to start turning… elsewhere in Dean’s mind, so he takes his hand back and starts sketching again, and Cas goes back to watching, and so they sit.
__
__
The sun goes down before either of them realizes that the day has passed, painting the sky with gold and orange. Dean is next to him and they’re both leaning back against the wall of the deck, the other man smiling lightly, face at ease, staring off in the horizon.
They ended up spending the whole day together even though Cas hadn’t planned for it to happen like that. After Dean had sketched a few more people, he’d suggested that they walk around a little, but a little had turned into a lot, time flying as they fell into easy conversation. There had been a lot of silence at first, though not an uneasy one, without a set topic to discuss. But it hadn’t taken long for the silence to fade away.
He’s learned quite a bit about the other, shallow things and deep. Knows about his mother dying in an apartment fire, Dean and Sam barely making it out, about his many jobs, about his brother…. He’s also learned that at their core, most of Dean’s stories revolve around others, the people he cares for, rather than himself, that he’s passionate and devoted. He’s very different than most of the wooden people that are always around him, that he grew up with, endearingly so.
In turn, Castiel found himself sharing nearly as much, talking about Rachel and life back home, and even to his surprise, the car crash. He hasn’t even really talked to Rachel about that and that he’ll share it with Dean, when usually he seeks to keep it as far from his mind as possible, is a thought he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Maybe because the other has suffered equal loss as well, maybe even more in his life; it makes him approachable with such things, makes Cas feel as though when the other tells him it gets easier that it’s not just some empty platitude to calm him.
The one part of his life that wasn’t mentioned was Balth and Dean didn’t ask. Cas isn’t exactly sure why he didn’t say anything, possibly because he knows they don’t like each other, even though they haven’t exchanged more than a sentence. Or maybe, selfishly, he just didn’t think the openness in Dean’s eyes would have remained if he had talked about the blonde man, and he hadn’t wanted to see it fade. But it did niggle at him a little, gave a little bit of a guilty tinge, which he doesn’t want to feel, to the whole afternoon. But he’s only been talking with Dean, hasn’t he? They haven’t touched, other than briefly to ease the sorrow in the other and they haven’t spoken of anything that might be deemed inappropriate. Yet still, the feeling remains.
They’d moved up from the lowest decks when Dean had grudgingly admitted that he’d always been kind of curious about what the other parts of the ship might look like. “You can only see so much from the bottom,” he’d joked. That and, more seriously, he’d been getting just slightly bored with the same old scenes every day, would welcome some fresh inspiration. Cas had taken that to heart.
He’d shown Dean all his favorite nooks in first class, the parts that are actually just beautiful and not horribly showy, and the other had lost the distrustful look that had been on his face since they climbed the stairs, and lit up, green eyes sparkling as Cas’d brought thehim to the quiet parts of the decks and to the library. Dean had especially liked the library, had even paused to run his fingers longingly over a few books when he thought Cas hadn’t been looking. And Cas found himself promising Dean that he’ll take him up here whenever he’d like to sit and read or draw.
He probably shouldn’t have said that.
But what’s done is done, he reflects silently, still watching Dean watching the ocean. It’s not as though they have much more than five days left in each other’s company. What can it hurt?
No sooner does he think that than his sister, accompanied by some of her giggling gaggle, come out of the nearest compartment, and surprisingly Gabe is with them as well. Cas had only seen him briefly last afternoon and wasn’t aware that his sister was acquainted with the man. However the two may have met, they seem perfectly friendly now, talking and laughing animatedly, that is, until Rachel spots them and pauses, her eyes sharpening.
“Cas,” She greets with a smile and a nod, but as her gaze falls on Dean next to him, it turns icy.
“Rachel,” He swallows a little at her look and puts on what he hopes is a placating expression, one that expresses how hopeful he is that she be polite. “I would like to introduce you to someone.” He gestures towards Dean. “Dean,” Her face doesn’t soften, not even a little. “This is my sister, Rachel. Rachel, this is Dean, he - last night when I - ”
“I know.” She cuts him off and he clamps his mouth shut, biting his tongue to keep from saying anything he’ll regret.
Dean looks pleased at being introduced and then bewildered and then a spark of understanding goes through his eyes and they turn hard as well, a matched set of stones. There’s an unhappy twist to his rather forced smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Rachel.” But at least Dean, even though he is clearly unhappy, manages to stay polite.
She doesn’t quite respond, only continues looking at Dean coldly, making a slight sound of acknowledgment in the back of her throat. Dean’s face twists even more and he looks as though he is about to say something and Cas knows this can only end badly. He wants to say something himself before it’s too late, but he can’t think of anything. He opens his mouth anyway but an amused voice sounds before he has the chance to speak.
“Well now, Dean-o is it?” It’s Gabe, surprisingly, who cuts in smoothly, and saves the situation from escalating. “Heard you saved our little Cassy here last night.”
Dean shrugs, face still cloudy, but his eyes leave Rachel’s. Gabe only grins even wider and claps him on the back. “Oh, and so modest, too. I know if I saved some hot young thing from certain death, you’d never hear the end of it.”
He chuckles as Cas snorts, relieved that at least this is just Gabe being Gabe and not Dean being belittled. Dean seems to realize too and cracks a small smile, but he still looks angry, and unfortunately Rachel does as well.
She opens up her mouth again, ready to undo any little bit of ease, and Cas winces in preparation, but luckily, she’s cut off as the dinner bell rings.
“Oh, well now, time to feed the cattle.” Gabe says brightly, winking at Cas. “Why don’t you finish accompanying Rach back to her room and I’ll see to your modest friend here, shall I? I heard he’s to join us tonight.”
Cas swings his eyes back towards Dean who shrugs, and does a little head tilt from Rachel to Gabe and pulls a face indicating he’d rather be stuck with the friendly one. Yes, Cas can understand that, Rachel can be downright menacing when she sets her mind to it.
Besides, he does trust Gabe, he’s Balthazar’s friend and he’s …significantly less conceited than many of the others around, and Rachel certainly does look like she needs to cool off - so he abandons the protest that grows in him at the thought of leaving Dean, and instead reaches for Rachel’s arm and tugs her away.
“Come, Rachel,” He walks briskly, “Let’s go back to our rooms.”
He does turn around though and looks apologetically at Dean, who sticks out his tongue at Rachel’s back as Gabe chuckles. The blonde man waves a hand at him as if to say, “go, it’ll be fine,” and he nods back. He certainly hopes so.
He also hopes this dinner wasn’t a mistake, and for the first time, he really considers the idea that it might be. Rachel was bad enough, but she’s by no means the worst. At least Gabe will be there. He likes the man, Cas decides, even if he is putting salt in the man’s tea the first chance he gets.
__
__
“So, you save a dashing young man from a doomed fate, you get yourself an invite into the snake pit and clearly you have no idea what you’re doing at all.”
It’s not a question and Dean glowers at the blonde as he follows him through the maze of first class cabins. “Look, man -”
But Gabe cuts him off. “And what in the world are you planning on wearing?”
“I -uh, what?” The question catches him off guard and he pauses for a second to examine his faded green shirt and tan pants, perfectly acceptable clothes to eat in if you ask him. He’s not really sure what the clothes have to do with the food anyway. “This.”
The blonde snorts, “See, no idea at all.” He pulls open a door and ushers Dean inside, shutting it slowly. “Now -“ He reaches into a small box and pulls a candy out of it, tossing one to Dean and popping one into his mouth.“Cas may have thought he was doing a nice thing, inviting you into his world, but he’s always been just a little better than most, I’d say. And I think that little performance out there should clue you in that not everyone is quite as... welcoming. In fact,” His smile grows just a tad bitter, “they’re pretty much all bastards, the lot of them. And that much I don’t think I have to tell you.”
Dean half shrugs, no, he doesn’t really. “Aren’t you supposed to be telling me to stay away?”
“Stay away? From who?” Gabe puts on a shocked face and Dean rolls his eyes. “Ohhh - stay away, like from Cas? To be honest with you, I could really care less what Cas does with his spare time. And I’m not too overly concerned with you either to be honest. Mostly, I just can’t wait to see the show. You’re pretty entertaining, once we throw you in with the lot of them and shake up the bottle, anyway.” He arches his eyebrows at Dean, “Don’t really get me much entertainment around here.”
Dean doesn’t really like the sound of being anyone’s dancing monkey, so he growls at the words, arms crossing in front of him ready to tell Gabe to shove it, but the other cuts him off.
“Oh c’mon, drop that pout. Saved you back there, didn’t I?” Gabe sucks on the candy and chuckles.
Green eyes narrow and Dean doesn’t uncross his arms, instead he says, “Didn’t need saving. I was just going to-“
“Yell uncouth things at a lady, who just so happens to be the sister of your new little friend. Think that wouldn’t have gotten you uninvited to dinner and kicked out of first class before you even had time to bat your pretty eyelashes?”
Dean’s mouth open and then closes again and he glares, “Look, kid, I’m not about to tell you what to do, you can do whatever the hell you want, fine by me, hell, probably way funnier for me if you do. I’m just about to tell you what it is you should do if you want to ever see Cas again after tonight. Which is,” He swallows his candy and a lollipop materializes from out of nowhere, which he points at Dean as he speaks, “keep your goddamn temper.”
“I will if they-“ He starts but Gabe cuts him off.
“They won’t be. They’ll say stuck up, asinine things, and insult you to your face and you are going to nod your head and smile. I don’t care,” His voice gets louder as Dean starts to protest, “if you think that’s humiliating, life’s humiliating. But I promise you, you will never see him again if you start a ruckus - got it?” His face is serious by the end of the speech.
Dean considers him for a moment, forces himself to swallow down all of his unhappiness and then nods slowly, it does makes sense, what Gabe says. He doesn’t even know why he cares if he’ll ever see Cas again, but he does. “Why, uhm, why are you helping? Won’t that ruin your show for you, or whatever?”
He grins, suddenly cheery, “Because Dean,” He says slowly, “they want you to screw up, so the only way to really get them is for you to come in all proper.”Gabe answers lightly clapping his hands together, “that’s what’ll really make ‘em squirm.” The expression on his face turns from amused into downright scheming and Dean suddenly feels a different kind of worry. Somehow he feels like that face has caused many unfortunate things to happen to people. “Anyway,” He announces cheerily, “the question and answer portion of this evening is over. It’s time for the fun part.”
Dean takes half a step back, completely forgetting all his questions about why Gabe hates his class so much, suddenly a little anxious. “And, uhm, what exactly would the fun part be?” He doesn’t mean to let the nervousness show in his words, but he sees a lot of… interesting things in Gabe’s room and he’d rather not be subjected to them, not even for fun.
A closet door gets pulled open as Gabe turns away, starting to rummage through it. “Like I said they’re expecting you to make a fool out of yourself, you know, they can’t wait - want nothing more than to tear you apart.” He sing songs,” So we’re gonna at least throw ‘em for a few loops before you gotta put your toes back in line. Well, we’re actually going to do it by putting your toes in line, but - details.” He frowns at the closet and slams the door, pulling open a different one instead and starting to throw pieces of fabric at Dean.
Eventually, Dean finds himself holding a shirt, a vest, suspenders, a bowtie, another shirt, and he has to duck as a pair of shoes almost hits him in the head, all the while Gabe is laughing to himself and mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like.
“I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”
Dean looks at the clothing in his hands and groans, “I don’t wear tuxes, Gabe.”
He gets nothing but a wider grin in response.
__
__
Balth takes Rachel’s arm as they head down the staircase to dinner and smiles lightly at Castiel , even if there is just a hint of bitterness underneath. “You’ll want to have your hands free for your guest, I presume?” He pauses as Rachel sends him a look that says, I don’t understand why you’re encouraging this, but he chooses to ignore her. “You are quite sure he found his way?”
Cas is about to say that no, he’s not really sure, but he hopes that Gabe would have managed to get Dean to the right place, when the words die in his throat and he just nods his head, eyes firmly fixed on the tall, tuxedo clad man that is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Dean is looking warily around him, and holding himself uncomfortably, but he’s stunningly handsome all the same. Beautiful even, Cas might hazard, far better than he himself has ever looked in a tux, he’s sure.
“Very well.” Balthazar pauses to smile at him for a moment, even if there is something reluctant about it, “I shall leave it to you to find him, then.”
Cas looks up at him, eyes moving off of Dean and onto Balth and he smiles back, that little bit of guilt worming back through him. This is just dinner, he just thinks Dean is handsome, the way he has thought many men are handsome, just an observation, nothing more. It’s Balth he loves. He moves forward a little, towards the other, and leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. Balthazar gives a faint huff of laughter in response, leaning their heads together for a moment, and then he and Rachel are moving forward, down the stairs, Balth pointing out someone he should go greet, leaving Cas behind them to slowly descend; his gaze flits back to Dean without permission.
He quirks his lips a little as they walk right past Dean without realizing it, moving directly on to their friends without even a glance of acknowledgement, and the quirk becomes a fond smile as Dean rolls his eyes at the back of their heads. He’s still smiling as the man swings around, almost as though he can sense Cas’s gaze on him, and smirks up at him, their eyes finally meeting. Friends, he reminds himself, as his heart starts to beat faster, they’re just friends.
He moves down the last few steps as Dean walks towards him, and can’t help but snort, very impolitely, according to the outraged stares of those around him, as Dean sticks his nose up extra high in the air and sucks in his cheeks.
“Castiel.” He says in an extra deep voice and exaggeratedly holds out an arm, smirking all the while. “Shall we?” The words roll slowly off his tongue, and Cas smacks him lightly on the shoulder, but takes the proffered arm anyway, laughing at the surprised look on Dean's face as he does. He knows the other had only been poking fun at the others in the hall, but an invitation is an invitation, and secretly he relishes the heat of Dean’s fingers as they slowly curl around the crook of his elbow. Friends joke with friends, do they not?
“Yes, I believe we shall.” He says, still laughing, glad he decided to indulge Dean in his mockery, and lets the man walk them forward and through the thronging mass that slowly starts to fill the room. They pass through unnoticed and it’s probably the least claustrophobic Cas has felt at a dinner yet.
“You didn’t show me this,” Dean’s voice returns to normal as they walk, his eyes examining the chandeliers, the paintings, and the gilded walls, before landing right back on Cas. He suddenly finds himself a little flustered under the weight of their gaze, Dean looks too distractingly good in that tux.
“I thought you would prefer the library,” He finally responds honestly, when his brain and mouth connect again, and Dean’s fingers tighten slightly around his elbow, his skin tingling beneath his shirt. “This is probably my least favorite place; I thought you would prefer the books and the quiet to,” he waves his hand around him, “all of this nonsense.”
Dean chuckles at that, “Well, yeah, but how’ll I ever be a gentleman, if I don’t come hang out with all the proper folk.”
“Are you saying I’m not proper folk,” He asks absentmindedly as Dean moves closer to him to whisper lowly in his ear.
“You, Cas, are definitely not proper folk. What would these good people say if they knew that you prefer steerage to this?”
He turns around to look at Dean, a little shocked, he hadn’t told Dean that, “I-”
“You,” Dean chuckles, as they finally go into the dining room, starting to make their way to their table, “are a weird one.”
He’s about to tell Dean that he’s kind of strange himself, but stops short as they reach their seats - Balth and Rachel already there, standing near the table. He feels Dean suddenly tensing up next to him, and can’t deny he’s not exactly positive about how this is going to play out either... nor which side he’s going to have to take.
Dean groans a little, and Cas whispers, “It’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, fine.” Dean mutters, unconvinced, but doesn’t resist as they move to stand next to the other two.
“Rachel, Balth, I believe you both remember Dean,” at least surrounded by everyone, his sister’s good breeding will keep her tongue mostly in check, he hopes, and Balth well, Balth is always Balth.
“Dean,” The blonde’s smile is large and forced, so different than the soft one he’d been granted at the staircase. He hates this one, he decides, he wishes Balth didn’t feel like he had to wear it. Hypocrite, a small voice curls through his mind, but he quickly shoves it away, making himself listen as Balthazar continues to speak. “How very good of you to make it.” His eyes flick up and down Dean, and he dramatically draws out two seats, gesturing for them to sit, he and Rachel doing the same. “You could almost pass for a gentleman.”
Cas groans inwardly, but luckily Dean does nothing but smile thinly back, raising a brow as he plunks himself in the chair next to Balth. “Almost.”
Balth snorts at that, and doesn’t reply as other people start to flood the table, nor does he make Dean move so Cas can sit between them, but there’s a certain unhappiness to the way he holds himself, and it almost makes Cas ask Dean to switch spots himself, but on the other hand that would make Dean look foolish, and Dean is already in such a precarious position here. He sits down quietly and hopes Balth will understand, sighing as he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Everything okay, Cas?” Dean whispers as they watch everyone else take their places, and he looks up at him and then beyond him at the blonde, who is decidedly turned away.
“Fine,” He says tiredly. “Just fine.”
__
__
It all goes fine for a little while, the food gets served, and it’s delicious, and with his camouflage of a tux, no one really questions Dean’s presence. Cas seems a little unhappy at first, but as dinner starts to roll on and Balthazar stops scowling next to him and starts talking animatedly, he brightens again. Dean doesn’t really like that much, but he doesn’t like Cas upset either, so he doesn’t let it bother him.
Mostly, he just sits quietly and eats, trying to stay all but invisible, wishing it was afternoon again and it was just Cas and him, strolling along in the open air. He can see why Cas doesn’t really love these things. The people gossip and talk about money and drink a lot, but it’s not exactly thrilling.
Still, it goes better than he expected, at least, he thinks he’s going to get out of this unscathed, and almost does until the desserts get served and Rachel turns to him. Her eyes are still as sharp as ever, looking at him like he’s some particularly ugly bug, and man, does she really seem to have it in for him.
“So Dean, tell us,” She says brightly, and he knows he’s not gonna like this, “how are the conditions in steerage? I hear they’re rather good.”
He sees a few people choke on their drinks, all of the suits who’d ignored him till now, turning to look at him, hears the mutters go around the table. Can imagine the disgust in their comments, “what, we shared a meal with a steerage passenger, oh heavens!” He’s about to tell them all to fuck off, but sees Cas shift nervously in his seat, out of the corner of his eyes, and grudgingly swallows the words down, forcing himself to bite his tongue. And he does, literally.
“Lovely, met some nice people,” He answers, half winking at Cas. He can’t help but wind her up a little, even if he has to be civil. As he’d known it would, stiff disapproval twists onto her face. “My roommates and I have grown real close, since we’ve had to sleep on top of each other.”
Gabe lets out a bark of laughter and other people titter as well. Rachel only narrows her eyes.
“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying your trip.” She finally manages to get out, “And do tell us how it is that you managed to find yourself a ticket onto this ship, with your erm, limited means? We’re all quite curious.”
Dean manages to not roll his eyes, a fact he’s immensely proud of, and responds, voice light, “Oh you know, a little of this, a little of that, there’s a lot of money to be made on the streets if you know where to look.” He winks at her and she shudders. Next to him, Cas stifles a laugh into his napkin, suddenly this whole fake business isn’t so bad. If he’s polite, she has no choice but to be too, and it’s pissing her off. “But this ticket, won it in a hand of poker.”
“Gambling man, Dean?” It’s Balthazar who speaks this time, and the blonde is looking at him with an unreadable expression, which is almost worse than Rachel’s blatant prissiness. He finds himself wishing the man would just be openly mean, if he’s going to be, instead of making Dean try to guess where exactly the insult is.
He turns to meet the other’s eye. “Only on sure things.”
“Smart boy,” Someone calls out and the conversation moves to poker, casinos and everyone’s favorite spots, and Rachel has no choice but to let it, but she continues glaring at Dean. He doesn’t notice though, his gaze still locked with Balthazar’s.
Eventually, he chooses to look away, doesn’t really care if it’s a sign of weakness or whatever, there are other things he’d much rather look at after all, and he doesn’t care what the bastard thinks of him. He smiles at Cas, who’s looking as though he’s about to have a heart attack, staring at his plate as though maybe it can save him. Well, he doesn’t think it can, but maybe he can.
He smirks and leans forward, whispering “If you’d like to see what a real shindig’s like, meet me up at that fancy staircase of yours in half an hour.”
Cas turns to look at him, but he’s already gotten up, wishing everyone at the table a good night and telling them he’d better get back, and to enjoy the rest of their evening.
He feels Cas’s stare on him all the way to the door and smiles to himself.
He chooses to wait by the clock, a mistake, as he finds himself watching the minutes tick by, losing hope that Cas is actually going to come.
But then there’s a hand on his shoulder and he grins.
“Let’s go.”
__
__
Balthazar tries desperately to distract himself because from the moment Dean leaves, Cas refuses to look at him.
So instead of calling the other on it, he drinks enough throughout the last course of dinner, to make even Gabe raise an eyebrow, which is, you know, saying something. His friend doesn’t comment though, and neither does anyone else and he keeps going. But even through the buzz of alcohol, which doesn’t last very long, his tolerance rather high, he can’t keep the thoughts at bay.
And when he finds the method failing, he puts on his best cheery smile, excusing himself from the table, Cas barely acknowledging his departure, and forces himself around the room, greeting whoever crosses his path… anything to not have to look back at the blue-eyed man who’s staring at the door, the one the ape had left through, with an unreadable expression on his face.
No, that’s a lie, it’s not unreadable, it’s perfectly readable, he just doesn’t particularly care to read it. He can always more or less tell what Cas is thinking and right now it’s nothing that bodes well for him. For the millionth time he wonders how exactly they found themselves in this situation. His mind pulling the question apart over and over in his head, even as outwardly he speaks loudly about the stock market, cattle farms, and other things he could give less than two fucks about right now.
After all, five days ago, hell, last night, everything felt just fine, Cas had been fine. And now, now there’s that unbearable curl of doubt eating away at him again, the kind that he thought they’d long moved past. Maybe the kind they’ve never had. He can’t ever recall doubting their relationship for more than a fleeting moment. Too perfect, he thinks to himself know, he should have known it couldn’t last.
More than anything he just wants Cas to talk to him, knows he’s being stubborn, that he could go over just as easily and make the other speak, that Cas would never ignore him if he was questioned directly. But he doesn’t want to be the one to initiate, wants his boyfriend to come talk to him, if there’s suddenly a problem. But at the rate Cas is miserably avoiding his gaze, it doesn’t seem like that’s about to happen. So, stubbornly, instead of going back to the table, and flat out asking Cas where exactly they stand, a question, he realizes with a pang, to which he has no idea what the answer might be, he turns to the next person and smiles charmingly. Stupidly hopes that maybe, when he turns away again, he’ll have forgotten why it was he was so unhappy in the first place.
But of course, that works about as well as the alcohol had, and he abandons conversation after three more people, suddenly exhausted by everyone, and just wishing he could grab Cas and head upstairs and curl up for a while. Listen to music or read a book or something, anything. It was foolish of him to think he could be distracted by these lifeless drones anyway.
He leaves the chattering mob in the center of the room, in favor of sitting down at one of the now abandoned tables, handily a few straight back from where Cas is sitting and just watches the other. Even as borderline angry, completely frustrated, and mildly hurt as he is by the other, just knowing he’s a few tables over calms him down enough to try and think clearly through this, as it is evidently not going to leave his mind. He fiddles with the glass of water in front of him, and wonders what the other is thinking. Is he sad the other is gone? Is he angry at Balth for some reason? Is he just… Balth doesn’t know… indulging in a fling? They have after all been together for quite a while and there are worse things than a little flirtation…
He snorts to himself; even as he thinks the words, he doesn’t believe them. Cassy is not the kind to just engage in a meaningless tryst, nor is he one for flings or impulsive, hurtful things. Whatever this thing is, whatever it means, it certainly means something. He just hopes it doesn’t mean too much.
The sound of a chair scraping out next to his fills his ears, as he moves on to masochistically wonder what it is Dean feels for Cas, but he ignores it, lost in thought, gaze still fixed on Cas. At least, he does until a slimy voice fills his ear, making him stiffen.
“He is quite a fine thing, isn’t he? You’ve chosen well, Balthazar.”
Balthazar scowls and turns slightly in his seat, just enough to find another man sitting next to him, following his line of sight. The other’s cold, beady eyes settling on Cas with an expression that almost makes Balthazar wish for Dean instead, that he would really like to punch off the other’s smug face. And right now, he’s about twenty seconds and one wrong word away from doing exactly that. Patience has never been his strong suit and Zachariah manages to hit all the wrong buttons with him. Has ever since they met, his father’s idea of a suitable business partner. He snorts a little, that hadn’t lasted long. He wishes the other man would go away.
“What do you want, Zach?” Displeasure and disgust color his voice and he doesn’t even attempt to disguise them. The man should know he’s a snake, he always manages to make Balth feel uncomfortable, even while saying perfectly innocent words. There’s always been something off about him, behind his composed appearance. Something ugly that ignites maliciously whenever the asshole gets near Cas. He prays the man has no idea where exactly on the ship they’re staying, the last thing they all need right now is Zachariah meddling in their lives. His teeth clench and it’s all he can do not to just walk away.
“Oh nothing. You know me Balth, never want a thing.” His lips stretch over his teeth as he bares them in some semblance of a grin, “Just admiring the view, much like yourself. Such a shame you’ve already got him.” The grin becomes decidedly more lecherous and Balth’s disgust grows as the man’s tongue comes out to briefly lick across his mouth. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t all enjoy looking, eh?”
Fingers tighten around the glass and Balthazar grinds out, “That. Is exactly what it means,” He turns fully in his seat to face the other man straight on. “If you so much as lay -“
“Oh, settle down, settle down,” Zach chuckles, still smiling widely at him. “Besides, it’s not really me, you have to worry about, is it?” He smirks. “Been hearing interesting things lately, Balthy. Little Cassy running off to play with the poor folk.” The curl of his tongue around play, makes his meaning clear, and Balthazar doesn’t answer, mentally counts to ten in his head, trying to pretend the older man is nothing but an annoying fly buzzing around his head. One that unfortunately, he is not allowed to swat right now.
Zachariah however keeps talking, enjoying the needling, gleefully continues,“ So perhaps you do need to worry about me. If he’s willing to spread his legs for the first filthy thing that comes looking, I’m sure I could convi-”
“Nothing is as filthy as you.” He says the words lightly, even though he really, tremendously, wants to hurt the other. But that would be acknowledgment that Zach had managed to get to him, and he point blank refuses to give him that. “So I think you were right the first time, not much to worry about from your end.” He forces a smirk, but he’s sure it comes out as nothing but a dark twist to his lips, “My apologies. I know that may come as a disappointment.” He takes a breath. “And don’t you fucking dare talk about Cas like that again or I swear to god, I will punch you off the edge of this ship.
Zach lets out a rolling laugh and moves forward, but his voice is much more of a hiss now, “Such a hero,” His eyes narrow into tiny, angry slits. “And all for someone who is making quite the fool out of you.” His gaze slides meaningfully past Balthazar, something furiously triumphant about it, “I would never allow him to humiliate me at dinner. He would know better who he belongs to. Especially when…” He pauses and leans close enough to whisper in Balthazar’s ear, the blonde pulling away reflexively, eyes dangerous“…especially when there’s not a doubt in anyone’s mind, whom exactly it is he’s sneaking off to.”
Balthazar doesn’t really understand what he’s talking about, and he’s about to tell the other to just get the hell away from him. But he chances a glance in the direction Zach is watching, curiosity forcing his hand. And then he gets it. Fuck.
He gets up without another word, slamming the glass onto the table and walking away from the chuckling man, his eyes firmly on Cas’s hesitantly retreating back. He pauses for a minute, to put some distance between them, and then pushes forward, following the other out the door.
If Cas won’t tell him what is going on, he’s going to have to find out on his own. Much as he hates the idea of spying, he’s not going to let himself be kept in the dark. This whole thing means too damn much to him.
Zach laughing grows louder as he leaves, not bothering to get up from the table.
The sound echoes in Balthazar’s ears long after he’s left the room.
__
__
He doesn’t end up staying long.
Just pauses on the stairs, invisible to all the loud drunken men and women and watches.
Watches Cas drink more beer than he’s ever seen him drink at one time, a red glow settling on his features as he grins and talks animatedly with the men around him, looking up every now and then at Dean spinning a little girl on the dance floor. The sight causes him to smile fondly before he turns back to the conversation, reaching for another glass.
Watches as a different song comes on and Dean sends the child away, grabs Cas by the arm, mockingly twirling him once and then leads him away, to the edge of the reveling, offers him yet another beer as he stands way too close. Cas happily takes it from him - saying something which makes Dean laugh in response.
Watches as Cas contentedly leans his head on the man’s shoulder and the other smiles down at him, green eyes sparkling, before readjusting his stance, and moving Cas even closer, an arm tentatively wrapping around the other’s waist.
Watches for five minutes more and still neither of them move, stay in the same position, talking intermittently but mostly just quietly watching the others around them. It seems like they’ve known each other forever.
He doesn’t even know how he feels.
Half of him wants to go angrily pull Cas away, to yell at him loudly and ask what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. But, he thinks miserably, Cas looks… so damn happy that he can’t bring himself to do it. Much as he really fucking wants to and instead, with great effort, he pulls away, climbs back up the stairs and heads straight into his room.
He doesn’t yell and he doesn’t throw things, only sits down blankly and moves the bottle of scotch that sits on the table closer.
Maybe alcohol didn’t work before, but he’ll be damned if it doesn’t work now
__
__
Castiel wakes up late the next day, hazy memories of warmth, music, and the sound of Dean’s laughter flooding his memory. It feels nice. For a moment he lies comfortably in place, relishing thoughts of his late night - tired body wanting nothing more than to go back to bed. He snuggles into his sheets and shuts his eyes.
It had been much more fun than he’d anticipated, at first a little intimidated by the mass of strangers and the sharp scent of alcohol. But he’d managed to shake that off quite quickly. The men had been shockingly friendly, had cheerily accepted his presence and invited him into their world and even the taste of the bitterly dark beer had grown familiar on his tongue after the first two glasses or so. Not to mention the feel of Dean’s hand soft on his hip, his heart racing fast. He’d felt much more at home there, in the small, sparse room, filled up with color and life by the people in it, than in the stuffy, gossipy dinners of first class.
He sighs contently, perhaps when they reach America he can talk Balth into going to a -
Balth. The thought of the blonde sends shockwaves running down his spine and all the positive feeling drains out of him as if someone had pulled the plug. He jumps out of bed, hastily grabbing for some clothes, suddenly the thought of Dean’s touch makes him cringe, the whole evening seeming like a bad idea. He hadn’t said goodnight to the other, hadn’t told him where he was going, though he’s sure that with the events of the past few days, the ideas Balth came up with are probably worse than reality, and it’s probably already midway through the breakfast they usually have together and…
This is bad.
He makes it out of his room as quickly as he possibly can and crosses the small hallway in almost a jog, but stops short at the door to their little sunlit dining room, courage failing slightly. He watches the scene in front of him, holding his breath just a little. As he predicted, Balthazar is already sitting at the small, white table, newspaper in front of his face, barely touched breakfast laid out on a plate. Across from him another table setting lies perfect and untouched.
On first glance, and to anyone else, it might seem almost like a normal morning. But he knows better. Can feel the tension radiating off the other without even seeing his face. He takes a deep breath.
“Balth,” He tries to keep his voice light as he slowly walks closer, a very small part of him wants to just run away, curl back up under the covers, but there’s no choice, he has to go through with this, hell, he might just deserve this. “I’m sorry, I overslept, I -“
“Had a late night?” Balthazar supplies tonelessly and turns another page, still hiding his face behind the pages. He knows. Cas knows with complete certainty, as he stops moving and just hovers near the table, he’s not quite sure how, or how much, but, his heart sinks, Balthazar knows, isn’t just guessing, knows where he was and who he was with.
“Balth, I, it was just, I was just curious…” His fingers curl around the top of the empty chair and his voice grows quieter, the right words just aren’t coming… he really wishes the other would look at him. “And I didn’t think you’d approve so I…” He trails off, he has nothing. There’s nothing that he can finish that sentence with, not without making everything worse.
“Sit down, Cas,” The voice comes low. “Eat something.”
He isn’t hungry, but he sits automatically, pours himself a glass of tea and looks at the table. He wishes he could defend himself a little better, could snap at Balthazar for following him, but he really can’t. So he waits.
Balthazar sighs and finally lowers the paper, tossing it aside, and he feels the other’s gaze boring into him.
“Can you look at me please?”
He was just wishing Balth would look at him, but now that it has to actually happen, he finds his stomach tightening. Slowly, he bites his lip and lifts his eyes, a horrible pang of guilt running through him as he takes in Balth’s appearance. He looks exhausted, like he hasn’t slept, and he probably hasn’t. There’s an almost defeated line to his shoulders that Cas can’t remember ever seeing and his eyes are red-rimmed and blood shot, but they aren’t angry. That’s probably the worst, they’re tired, sad, and closed off, but they aren’t angry.
A terrible urge to just get up and go wrap his arms around the other hits him full force, he wants to just promise him that nothing’s changed, that Dean is nothing, that they’re as fine as ever. But he knows that he can’t do that. That it would be a lie. Something has changed and it would be unfair to them both to pretend otherwise. He has to take whatever it is Balthazar is going to say and do his best to be honest. Even though he honestly has no idea how he feels right now. He loves Balth, he does, and yet he can’t get Dean out of his head. Everything feels hollow.
“You know, darling, that I love you, more than I love anything else,” The tired voice starts to speak, “Most likely, more than I love myself.” He pauses, shaking his head a little, “And that the last thing that I would want is for you to be unhappy. “
Cas nods silently, not trusting his voice. He knows there are tears threatening to flood his eyes and the hurt doubles. He braces himself for the next words, fearing that they’ll put some sort of finality to the whole situation.
“So I’m giving you permission.”
His brow furrows, and he drops his gaze to the table. Not what he’d feared, but he has no idea what they’re talking about all of a sudden. Permission? Permission for what? The confusion must show on his face because the Balthazar chuckles humorlessly and starts to explain.
“Yes, darling,” Another pang at the word, “permission. I know you. So I know that even if you promise me, right now, that you’ll never see him again, you’ll always wonder.” Balthazar’s eyes grow narrower and the words sound kind of like he’s choking on them. “I do not want you to be with me and wondering about someone else.” It’s the first time he hears anger in with the rest and it’s almost a relief. “And as little as I understand why it is you feel as you do, and I don’t pretend to, I can see that you do feel something for him.” He shakes his head and the next words come out barely a whisper, “So go, pretend that he’s yours, kiss him, touch him, I don’t care. Do whatever it is you need to do so that you can know for sure where it is exactly you’d like to be.” He finds Cas’s eyes again and it’s all Cas can do not to look away, he hates the emptiness in the blue that looks back at him.
“Balth - I…” He wants to protest this, to tell him it’s foolish, that they’ll all only get hurt. But maybe…a traitorous voice in his ear whispers, maybe it will help, maybe you’ll be able to know for sure one way or the other. And it’s too late to deny that there are two ways now. He sighs, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
The smile that he gets in response to that is probably never going to leave his memory. “I’m the one making this decision for you, because I know you won’t.” He reaches out and carefully lays his hand on top of Cas’s, squeezing lightly. “I don’t want you regretting this for the rest of our lives. That will not be any easier to live with. I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”
Then he’s leaned over the table, pressed a lingering kiss on Cas’s cheek and is out of his seat before another word can be said, the door shutting lightly behind him.
Cas slumps down, head in his hands, still feeling the light kiss on his cheek, and the hand on his hip, and the touch on his hand, and fingers on his elbow and… he’s just so utterly at a loss. He’s going to end up hurting someone, though, that much he knows.
ll Part 1 ll Part 2 ll Part 3 ll Part 4 ll Part 5 ll