Red Hood (Chapter 4)
A/N: Hello my wonderful readers! Here’s another installment of the rom-com known as Red Hood. Enjoy and don’t forget to review!
Sam Winchester had come to the conclusion that his older brother was the biggest baby of all time. It had been a long standing hypothesis of his; repeatedly put the test by Dean’s actions. But he was pretty sure this time took the cake. Any normally adjusted adult human would have reacted definitively by now. Sure, Dean was caught by the paps with some guy he just went on a date with. But it was a totally innocent picture, hardly anything that would haunt Dean for the rest of the life. It wasn’t like he was caught blowing the guy in the back of a club or something. Regardless of what the picture might have been, Dean should have made a decision by now. It had been two days for Christ’s sake.
As he had said repeatedly to his girlfriend Jess, Dean should have told Cas what the situation was. If he didn’t want to keep seeing the guy, fine, but he should at least tell him so. Instead, Dean had opted to call in sick for the rest of the week and hole up in their shitty apartment. Sam would know, because he practically tripped over his brother every morning when he went to go make coffee in the kitchen.
Now Sam fancied himself a pretty understanding guy, he was frequently known as the more ‘touchy-feely’ Winchester, which compared to the competition wasn’t particularly difficult. However, Dean was doing an amazingly good job of testing his patience. Apparently laying on the couch in his stained sweatpants wasn’t depressing enough for Dean because 38 hours after the news had broken on all the gossip sites, Dean had relocated to the floor. He laid on his back, equidistant between the kitchen and the TV watching marathons of Dr. Sexy and Ghostfacers. It was pathetic. Ten hours later, after Sam had gotten back from class, he decided to wade through the sea of angst and maybe convince Dean to take a shower.
“Hey.”
His only response was a halfhearted grunt from the area rug.
“C’mon dude, it’s been two days.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “You need to get over this.”
“How can I get over this?” Dean moaned from the floor. Sam was just glad that he was using verbs again. “It’s so fucking creepy, man. There are pictures of me all over the internet and that stupid TMZ show.” Dean rolled over to lay face down on the carpet.
Sam took a deep breath. Clearly it was going to take all of his patience to deal with his brother. “I know it’s not ideal and it’s definitely an invasion of privacy, but you gotta figure it out.” He took a couple of steps closer to Dean. “I mean, it was only one date.” Sam pointed out. “I’m sure Cas wouldn’t be offended if you broke it off.”
A distinctly insulted noise came from Dean. And then a muffled question.
“Dude, I can’t understand you. Roll over.”
“What makes you think I want to stop seeing Cas?”
Sam resisted the urge to pull out his hair. Barely. “Because you’ve been bitching and moaning around the apartment for days!”
Dean was frowning. “I like Cas though.”
“Then tell him you want to see him again.”
Dean flopped back down on the carpet.
“Okay, you know what? I give up.” Sam threw his hands up in the air. “I’m meeting Jess for dinner and I’m staying at her place tonight.” He knew his brother was truly in dire straits when he didn’t even offer up a lame innuendo. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and please take a goddamn shower. You reek.”
And then Sam left, to be mature smart people that talked about their feelings instead of just rolling on the floor like a puppy.
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“Hey, Novak! Who was that pretty young thing on E! last night?”
Cas groaned and pressed his forehead against the cool metal of his locker, wishing for death’s sweet release. If he had ever been worried about his teammates’ response to him coming out of the closet, this definitely wasn’t the negative response he had been expecting. For some reason they had decided that because he hadn’t been publically out as gay, this meant that he was a blushing virgin. Which, for the record, was very untrue.
Pretty much all of the guys were obviously trying to be helpful, mentioning that they had single cousins, brothers or friends from school that were gay and they would definitely pass on Cas’ number if he wanted them to. Others dragged him to a gay club and then literally foisted guys onto him. Deep down, Cas knew they were just being nice and wanted him to ‘get it in’. But fuck, if they threw another barely legal twink his way he was going to have a very serious talk with them about what kind of guys he liked. Because the whole hairless thing really squeaked him out.
And of course, once the news of Dean hit, the locker room had gone crazy. Slaps on the back were had; lube and condoms found their way into his locker and one of the player’s girlfriends had offered to go shopping with him to pick out the perfect outfit for their next date. All of this Cas normally would be able to handle and be fine with, if he knew there was going to be a next date.
“C’mon, man!” Bailey pleaded. Bailey was a mountain of a man, at 6’8’’ and 260 pounds of pure muscle; he could make weaker men shit themselves with a wayward look. But as Castiel had quickly found out, appearances were deceiving because Bailey was extraordinarily kind and strangely afraid of horses. He had mentioned something about a horse biting him when he was younger, but Cas didn’t ask too many questions about it. “I mean, he was hot right?” He continued, oblivious. “Granted, I don’t have the best eye for that kinda stuff, but I showed those pictures to my sister.” Bailey laughed. “Girl damn near lost her mind. Asked if he had any brothers.”
Cas allowed a weak smile. “He does actually, a younger brother.”
Bailey sent him a strange look; obviously it was not the reaction he had been anticipating. “Well, alright. I’ll let her know. Maybe you guys can go on a double date.” He grinned and slammed his locker shut. “Later, Cas. See you in a few.”
That was right, they had the weekend off. Three glorious days with no practice or games. Most of the guys were taking the time to either hit up the clubs or visit family, Cas would probably spend it eating take out and watching home make over shows on his TV. He had started watching those shows as a way to figure out what he should do with his depressingly bare apartment, it had quickly turned into an obsession. A fruitless one apparently, considering he hadn’t changed a single inch of his apartment yet.
He would give Dean another day. One way or another, Cas would show up to practice on Monday knowing whether or not Dean was willing to put up with all of this bullshit.
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Dean was not proud of the amount of time he had spent listlessly staring at the ceiling in his living room after Sam left cursing the day he ever met Cas Novak. He hated how much of his energy was being directed towards this, and how it consumed his every waking thought. And, if last night was any indication, thoughts of Cas were starting to seep into his brain. Because Dean woke up with morning wood and the fading memory of bright blue eyes searing into his soul. Or something. He had been half asleep so he wasn’t really going to use that as some great glimpse into his inner psyche.
If this had been anyone else Dean would have kicked them to the curb and found an easy lay to spend the night with. If anything, finding some random dude to sleep with would be easier because who wouldn’t want to say that they had managed to bag the same guy that Cas Fucking Novak did? But Dean couldn’t bring himself to pick up his phone and cut the cord with Cas.
He had a feeling, God help him, that he wanted to start a relationship with the guy. Even though the word usually tasted sour on his tongue. Dean had genuinely enjoyed hanging out with Cas, even he was sometimes a self-involved prick. And he couldn’t lie that a very vocal corner of his brain told him that he wanted to see what the guy was like in the sack. Dean was betting that he was like a wildcat. But he was getting away from the larger point. Was it worth trying to start something that Dean was already weary of, with the entire city watching? He didn’t have an answer. So he fell back asleep on the floor in the living room.
Three hours later, he was rudely awoken by Sam pulling him by his armpits to the bathroom.
“Dude, what are you doing?”
“You’ve been lying on that floor for three days, Dean. You need to take a shower, brush your teeth and shave.”
“I think the scruffy look is coming back.”
“Not on you. You look like a hobo.”
“You look like a hobo.”
“I’m not the one sleeping on the floor.” Sam replied too smugly. True enough, but still, Dean thought that he deserved a little more pity. Sam obviously felt differently.
It didn’t take long for Sam to drag Dean into the bathroom, and then promptly close the door behind him. A fresh towel was waiting on the hook, and Sam had even bought a new razor for him. Apparently he was pretty gung ho about this hygiene issue.
The shower did feel good, and more importantly, helped Dean think a little more clearly. He had waited long enough to decide and Cas was being practically angelic by waiting this long. It was time to give him a call.
After he was sufficiently cleaned to Sam’s liking, Dean locked himself in his bedroom with the phone. He wouldn’t leave until he called Cas. Even if it took all day.
Cas picked up on the third ring.
“Hello, Dean.” Cas sounded tired, resigned even. Dean tried not to dwell on it.
“Hey, Cas.” Dean greeted. “Sorry about the wait, I’ve been busy.” It was a weak ass excuse, but Cas didn’t call him out on it.
“It’s no problem, Dean. I do have other things to occupy my time besides waiting for your phone call.” Yikes. Harsh.
Dean laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, about that. D’you think you could come over to my apartment tomorrow? I’d like to talk to you. Face to face, I mean.”
There was a pause on the other end, and for a second Dean thought he was going to refuse. “Of course. I can come over at 4, does that work for you?”
“Yeah, man, that’s fine.” Dean said quickly, before Cas could take it back. “I’ll text you my address.”
“See you tomorrow.” Before he could reply, the line went dead. Dean gulped; he was definitely in the dog house.
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