Strange and Beautiful Part 3

[remivel]

Part 3

Then:

Lawrence, Kansas. 1996.

It was all Dean’s fault.

First, their dad told him to replace the batteries to the TV remote, and he said he’d do it but he ended up forgetting all about it. That was a minor mistake on his part. No harm done. Except, he also left a certain questionable video tape lying around.

Cas came by to watch a few rented movies with Sam, and while Cas grabbed the chips from the pantry, Sam popped a tape inside the player. Cheesy music started playing from the TV and the title ‘Casa Erotica’ flashed on the screen. Now, Sam wasn’t stupid. He knew what ‘erotica’ meant, thank you very much. What he didn’t know was why Cas would pick a video like that for them to watch.

A few seconds later, Cas appeared with a big bag of chips and some sour cream dip and asked if he’d missed anything.

“Just the credits,” Sam said, and on the screen little Billy’s very voluptuous babysitter put him to bed.

Beside him, Cas frowned as he opened the chips and started munching on it. “Did you put the right tape in?” he asked, just as the babysitter in the screen opened the door for the pizza man.

“I’m sure,” Sam said, reaching his hand out to the bag of chips on Cas’ lap. Cas offered him the dip and just when Sam was about to dunk his chips in the bowl, both boys froze, eyes glued to the TV as the babysitter onscreen went down on her knees and started unzipping the pizza man’s pants.

Fat drops of sour cream fell on the couch between them, and Cas was the first to find his words through the moaning sounds that filled the room. “…I don’t think this is Jumanji,” he said as if in shock.

The pizza man had the babysitter’s ass up in the air and with the first slap of his hand on her rear, Sam snapped out of his stunned state. He jumped from his seat and scrambled for the remote and started stabbing at buttons with his fingers to try and make the video stop. Each slap was like a bolt of lightning straight through Sam’s body and with one final ditch effort, Sam stepped on the table and lunged at the video player and pressed eject.

The slapping and moaning sounds stopped and the picture went blank as the player dutifully ejected the videotape. He looked back at Cas still sitting stunned on the couch, eyes wide and mouth agape. “It wasn’t me. I swear!” he gasped, raising both his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Cas turned to look at Sam, blinked and closed his mouth. “Uh…” he said, the sound of his voice a little rough. He licked his lips, and Sam found his eyes glued to the movement. “…I-I should go,” he finally said.

Sam was baffled.  Was Cas angry that they watched that? But it was an accident. He opened his mouth, about to accuse Dean of leaving the tape there when his eyes fell on Cas’ lap… and the undeniable bulge of an erection there.

Sam knew he shouldn’t be staring (especially since he’s suffering from the same problem at that very moment) but he just couldn’t believe Cas reacted to that. He thought-

“Oh jeez, Sam!” Cas said in embarrassment, reaching for the throw pillow and covering his lap with it. “Stop staring, okay?”

“I’m not,” Sam said, quickly looking away, and placing both his arms on his lap as he sat on the floor by the TV.

They stayed like that for what seemed like eternity, each not quite willing to move from where they sat. Sam tried to steal a glance at Cas every now and then, feeling too awkward to look at Cas again but too intrigued by the blush that stained the other boy’s cheeks to actually avert his eyes completely. Cas shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Sam suddenly remembered one important thing Dean told him about ‘surprise boners’. You either think of gross or scary things to make it go away, or you deal with it alone.

“You wanna use the bathroom?” Sam blurted out, and blushed furiously when he realized just what he said.

Cas looked at him, cheeks blushing a furious red. “Yes, please?” he said, and when Sam nodded, he stood up quickly and ran to the bathroom.

As soon as Cas stood up, Sam ran to his room and locked himself in there. He tried not to think about what Cas was doing in that bathroom, and instead decided to imagine all the horrors he could think of. “Bobby in a tutu,” he whispered, shutting his eyes tight. “Clowns dancing the Macarena,” he said next. “Spiders under my pillow,” he continued, but nothing helped. His cock was still hard between his legs, the thought of what Cas was doing just a few doors down the hallway trumped even the most disgusting or horrifying image he could think of.

With a groan of complaint, Sam surrendered, hands diving in his pants to ‘deal with it.’ It helped that Sam always had a vivid imagination. He could write whole stories inside his head, imagine whole worlds existing outside his own, and right now, he saw Cas, in that bathroom, seated on the closed toilet lid, biting his lip to stop himself from making any noise as he stroked his erection with his long, elegant fingers.

Sam came with lightning speed, long before his imaginary Cas reached his own orgasm.

It was probably almost an hour before Sam came down to the living room. Cas was seated there, munching on chips and watching TV like nothing happened. Sam slowly sat back down on the sofa and watched TV without saying anything.

“Let’s just pretend none of that happened,” Cas said, not looking away from the TV for a second.

“What happened?” Sam asked, feigning innocence as he took a handful of chips and started munching on them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Cas smile as he said, “Nothing.”

+++

Later that night, when Cas had gone back home and it was Sam’s turn to watch the dishes, Sam heard Dean complain from the living room. “Dude, what’s this white stain on the sofa?! I sat on it. Gross.”

Sam nearly dropped the plate he was about to put in the dishwasher in shock. ‘No way,’ he thought as he ran to the living room to see what Dean was talking about.

“Hey, not cool, Sam,” Dean said, pointing to the suspicious stain on the sofa.

It took Sam two horrifying seconds before he realized what it was. “Sour cream!” he gasped, before huffing out a sigh of relief. “It’s sour cream, okay?”

“Good. You’re safe coz it’s harmless,” Dean said. “Clean it before dad gets home.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll clean it after I do the dishes,” Sam agreed, turning around to walk back to the kitchen.

“For a minute there, I thought someone jacked off on the sofa or something,” he heard Dean mumble, and the scalding rush of mortification made Sam’s face red and he made a quick escape into the kitchen to hide from Dean.

+++

Now:

Sam and Cas worked on the Carver’s Place merger for another day, and by the third night of getting home at 2 in the morning, Sam was beat. It wasn’t like his law school days when he went for almost a week without sleep, but the stress of working in a real firm must have been taking a toll on Sam’s energy. That, and having to be in close proximity to Cas all day.

By the fourth day, Sam was feeling confident that today was the day they ironed out the deal and made their client happy. The moment he entered the building that morning, however, he was ambushed.

“Where are we going?” Sam asked as he kept in step with Cas on their way out of the building. He barely made two steps into the lobby when Cas had appeared out of nowhere and said, “Follow me,” before walking out the door just as quickly.

“You are coming with me to meet with Carver Edlund,” Cas revealed as he walked towards a waiting car, a chubby and cheerful chauffeur holding the door open for him.

“Really,” Sam’s face brightened. “I get to meet the client with you?”

“Good morning, Mr. Novak,” the chauffeur greeted.

“Good morning, Cupid. Cupid, my new associate, Sam. Sam, Cupid,” he said just before entering the car.

Sam smiled at Cupid. “Nice to meet you,” he greeted before following Cas inside the car. Sam underestimated the size of the backseat, sliding too close to Cas inside. The heat of Cas’ thigh pressing against his was like a jolt of electricity. It was just a thigh. Clothed. Just Cas’ thigh, and yet the heat of it seared through the fabric of Sam’s pants and straight to his skin, and Sam jerked his leg away and scooted nearer the window. Cas didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t seem to care.

“You have to meet clients soon enough,” Cas said, answering Sam’s earlier question. “Besides, you did good work on this merger, you deserve to see it through until the end.”

“You think I did good work?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“Yes, Sam. Why is it so hard to believe?” Cas asked in confusion.

Sam shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. Just, the other associates have been telling me how hard it was to please you,” Sam said.

“They say that?” Cas asked, face going very serious.

“Uh… I mean,” Sam stuttered, looking for the right words to say so he doesn’t dig a deeper grave for himself-or for anyone. “Uh… when they say that, they mean it in a nice way…” he tried. Cas’ expression remained the same. “Please don’t fire anyone?”

“I’m not firing anyone,” Cas said, and he actually rolled his eyes at Sam. “And it is true, I suppose. I expect the best, and if you can’t give me the best, then I won’t bother with you.”

A thought crossed Sam’s mind. “You’re bothering with me… so does that mean I’m the best?” Sam asked.

Cas scoffed. “Don’t push your luck,” Cas told him. “But yes, your performance has been satisfactory so far.”

“And here I thought you only picked me because of my irresistible charms,” Sam joked.

“You were cuter when you were eleven,” Cas told him.

Sam blinked in surprise, eyes glued to Cas’ face as he processed what he just said. That was the first time Cas ever mentioned anything about their past. Even the night before, when he had talked to Sam, it was always about the case. Sam didn’t want to be the first one to bring anything up about it, afraid it might make things a lot more awkward that in already was. But Sam could tell Cas was slowly starting to warm up to him again. It was a good feeling.

“And you were nicer when you were 15,” Sam countered.

Cas chuckled. “I can’t argue with that. Lawyers aren’t supposed to be nice.”

The smile on Sam’s face faded for a bit as he gathered enough courage to ask something that had been bothering him. “Why did you become a lawyer?”

Cas turned to look at him like he was caught by surprise with Sam’s question. “Why… that’s, that’s, um, a little bit personal,” Cas answered.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry,” Sam apologized immediately. “I just remembered you wanted to be a writer, that’s all.”

“I did become a writer,” Cas said. “I’ve got a couple of books published,” he added, casually brushing off invisible dirt from the lapels of his coat, as if to make the statement less of a big deal.

“You’re kidding,” Sam accused.

“No. I’m not.”

“Alright then. What’s the title?”

“Find it out on your own,” Cas answered. “If you can’t even do that, I will start to question your skills as an associate,” Cas told him, fixing his challenging gaze at Sam.

That look on Cas’ face reminded him of all the times Cas helped him with his homework back then. He often challenged Sam this very same way, and it gave him a warm feeling. It almost felt like they were getting back to the way things were before. “Alright, you’re on.” Sam said, a wide grin taking over his face.  “This’ll be easy,” he said, getting distracted by the honking of a neon yellow sports car outside. When he looked back at Cas, the man was still staring at him, and he felt his face starting to grow hot at the close scrutiny. “What?” he asked.

Cas blinked and looked away. “Nothing,” he said. “I should’ve told you about this meeting beforehand. You could’ve had the chance to pick a better suit,” he said thoughtfully, and though Sam had a feeling that was not the reason he was staring at him, he decided to let it go.

“Hey, what’s wrong with my suit?” he said, acting offended. “It fits good.”

“It could fit better,” Cas argued. “Ask Jo for my tailor’s number. Get some new suits.”

“Well, I’m not getting one with a vest. Those things are like corsets for men. How do you even breathe in that?” He commented, making a gesture towards Cas’ own suit.

Cas frowned and looked down on his three-piece suit and then back up at Sam. “A corset?” Cas asked, and in that moment, a vision of Cas in a lacy blue corset crossed Sam’s mind. Not good.

“How would you know what a corset feels like? You’ve worn them before?” he heard Cas ask him.

“No!” Sam said, quickly averting his gaze from Cas. “Forget I said anything. I’ll go visit your tailor,” Sam conceded.

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, though Cas kept looking at his waistcoat while Sam still had thoughts of blue satin and lace in his mind.

+++

Their first meeting with the client went smoothly and Sam returned to working on cases for the other partners for the next couple of days. The thing about returning to his usual work at his desk was that Sam found himself thinking more and more about Cas. He spent most of the past few days working closely with Cas, and now he was back to seeing him only once or twice a day. He began thinking about how much more comfortable Cas’ chairs were, or how the view of the city was a much better working atmosphere than the dull walls surrounding the associates’ bullpen.

He also began thinking of Cas and how he had a habit of leaning a hip on his table, or sitting on it completely whenever he was on the phone with someone. His table looked sturdy, and Sam especially liked the way Cas looked on it.

Sam liked the idea of Cas lying down on it much better. In fact, he often had many ideas about Cas and that desk.

Cas, on his back naked save for his socks, legs wrapped around Sam’s hips as Sam pushed into him, his scream of pleasure echoing in the office and the halls outside for everyone to hear.

Or maybe, bent over his desk instead, mostly clothed, with his pants and underwear pushed down to his thighs as Sam entered him from behind, hand on his own mouth to stop himself from making any noise.

Or maybe both of them on the desk, naked, while Cas bounced on top of him, back arching with a loud moan as Sam’s hands reached and traced his fingertips over the part where they were connected.

And those ideas were just about the desk.

He had a particular idea involving Cas pinned to one of those floor-to-ceiling windows as well.

Sam cleared his throat and returned his thoughts to the file he was reading, very much aware of the tightness now present in his slacks.

He was harboring fantasies about his boss. And his boss just happened to be Castiel.

He shook his head and he tried to will his erection away. When, after five minutes, the great office boner still didn’t leave, he rushed to the comfort room and locked himself in a stall to silently jack off. While in that stall, he managed to have another bright idea about the desk (he sat on Cas’ chair while Cas was on his knees hidden under the table sucking him off. At some point, someone walked in, asked where Castiel was and Sam feigned innocence, all while Cas continued swallowing him down). He used that image to finally get himself off.

He returned to his desk a few minutes later, sated and much more relaxed than before. Until he saw Cas walking down the hallway and his cheeks burned in shame (or maybe residual arousal, he couldn’t tell). He buried his face in his hands. “I am so dead,” he said. He wiped his face with his palm and picked up the file he was reading. “Been dead since I hit puberty,” he mumbled to himself.

+++

Carver Edlund turned out to be an impulsive and unpredictable man, and just when Sam thought the deal was as good as sealed,  he found himself dragged by Cas to another meeting with him at 6 in the evening the very next day to discuss the particulars of the deal.

After their second meeting with the client, the merger was ironed out almost completely (as completely as they’d get without actual signatures on the paper), and Carver decided to treat them to dinner at his number one restaurant. He drank wine with them for a few minutes and left soon after.

Sam silently wished Carver didn’t leave them. He suddenly felt nervous because he was now sitting alone with Cas, in a fancy restaurant, flanked by tables occupied by couples having romantic dinners on each side. The atmosphere was quite intimate, and Sam tried (and failed) to look anywhere but at Cas. The other man was busy fidgeting with something on his phone, so Sam took the opportunity to watch him carefully. And damn it all if Cas didn’t look dangerously attractive in the soft light of the restaurant.

It might be none of his business, but Sam wondered if Cas had someone in his life. He watched Cas’ fingers as he held the phone, and noted the lack of a ring. So Cas wasn’t married. But did he have a girlfriend? Or maybe a boyfriend? Did they go to dinners at places like this all the time? Or did they prefer snuggling on the couch and having movie nights with burger take-outs for dinner. But the thought that nagged Sam’s mind the most was what Cas would want in a partner now. He had changed; maybe his romantic tastes had changed as well. Sam didn’t have a chance before. Would he have one now?

It took Sam a couple of seconds to realize that he had been caught staring at Cas again, and he quickly averted his eyes and apologized.

“What was on your mind?” Cas asked him.

“Nothing,” he lied.

“You seemed… lost,” Cas observed.

Sam chuckled. That was one way to put it. “It’s just…I’ve never eaten at a place like this before,” he said, which wasn’t a complete lie. The place was far too expensive and fancy for Sam’s taste, which only made him feel more uncomfortable. Besides, it wasn’t like he could just suddenly up and ask, ‘Are you seeing anyone now? No? How about trying something with me?’

“I’m more of a fast food guy myself,” Cas said next, though it was unclear whether or not he bought Sam’s lie.  Nevertheless, Sam was glad Cas decided to drop it.  “But you get used to eating at places like this soon enough. It comes with the territory,” Cas told him.

“Well, alright. I suppose eating at five star restaurants every now and then isn’t so bad,” Sam said with an exaggerated eye roll. This line of conversation was something he can work with.

Cas smiled at that. “It gets worse. If you’re with a client, the firm will take care of it.”

“That’s terrible!” Sam said in mock distress. “I hope I don’t get too used to the free food or I might not get to keep my figure,” Sam joked.

“Oddly enough, that was something Inias said when we were both associates,” Cas remarked.

“Oh? So what happened? He got to keep his figure?” Sam asked.

“He lost thirty pounds,” Cas said. “The stress burns fat right off of your body.”

Sam laughed, feeling miles better already.

Their food came soon after and as soon as Sam saw his plate, his mouth started to water. He had to admit, there was some charm in eating a $160 steak dinner for free.

“Dean would love to eat at a place like this,” Sam commented without thinking, his focus entirely on the task of cutting through the tender meat with a knife.

“How is Dean nowadays?” he heard Cas ask.

Sam’s hands froze and he looked across the table at Cas. Cas cut up a piece of his own steak and looked back up at Sam as he put the fork to his mouth and ate. His expression, as he waited for Sam to speak, was the same as always: unreadable. “He’s… he’s good,” Sam said lamely. He figured Cas would ask about Dean eventually, but he was still caught unprepared when it happened. “He left his boring desk job and moved to LA about three years ago to work for this big-time car enthusiast. Now he’s restoring classic cars for the folks up at Beverly Hills.”

Cas’ eyes grew bright with interest. “He is?” he said, and he sounded genuinely happy. “Dean always wanted to work with cars for a living. I’m glad to see he got what he wanted.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, trying to keep his tone light. He brought a piece of steak to his mouth and chewed on it with more force than necessary. A surge of jealousy rose in his chest despite his mind telling him he had nothing to be jealous of. Not anymore. Cas was just asking about an old friend. Cas wasn’t still thinking about Dean, right? That was years ago. He probably moved on.

Then again, it had also been years for Sam, eleven to be exact, and he thought he was over his little crush (it was never just a crush for him, that he knew, but he still liked to pretend it was), yet the moment he saw Cas again, it all came crashing back. If it happened to him…it could happen to Cas, too.

The thought did not sit well with him. Which is why he ended up saying the next sentence without a second thought.

“He’s actually getting married next year,” Sam said, his eyes carefully watching Cas’ face for his reaction. “To Lisa, his college sweetheart,” he added.

“That’s great,” Cas said, a smile still on his face, albeit not as bright or as genuine as before, though whether this was Sam’s imagination or not, he couldn’t tell. “Is that the same Lisa who had a child a few years ago… Ben, if I remember correctly.”

“You know Lisa?” Sam asked incredulously.

Cas smiled, a small smile that changed his expression from unreadable to sad… and possibly nostalgic. “Dean and I used to talk from time to time.”

Sam gaped. “You still talk to Dean?” he asked. And this time, his jealously was accompanied by anger, and the feeling of betrayal at Dean’s decision to hide that he still kept contact with Cas all these years. He thought Dean didn’t know where Cas went to after college. It turned out he knew all along.

“Not any more, unfortunately. We used to talk maybe once every six months. I lost contact a few years ago, possibly around the time he went to LA. Lisa and her baby featured in our last few conversations,” he said.

By this time, Sam didn’t bother to hide the sudden downturn of his mood. “I didn’t even know you two kept in contact,” he mumbled before taking another bite. He needed something to take his frustrations out on: the poor steak was easy prey.

Cas’ smile may have turned a shade more melancholy at Sam’s words, but Sam didn’t notice. “Like I said, we already lost contact,” Cas said. “I would appreciate it if you can share your brother’s current contact information with me so we can catch up,” Cas told him.

It was like being rejected a second time. Well, the first time hurt much worse. This was just like a wound that didn’t properly heal and now the scabs had been forcefully peeled away and the reopened wound was cruelly sprinkled with-

“Sam?”

Sam looked up from his food to Cas’ curious stare. “Oh, right,” Sam said, forcing a smile on his face. “Sorry, I was distracted with the steak. Knowing it costs $160 somehow makes it taste better,” he remarked.

Cas chuckled at that.

“I’ll send you Dean’s number later,” Sam told him. He had no intention of sabotaging Cas and Dean’s friendship, though he would be lying if he said he didn’t think about ‘accidentally’ forgetting to send Dean’s number to Cas.

“I think, after all we’ve been through, I deserve an invite to that wedding, right?” Cas joked.

Sam smiled through chewing another piece of steak. ‘At least Cas is trying to sound supportive of Dean,’ Sam thought. That still didn’t mean Cas was over Dean for good now. They kept in contact with each other. They were still friends despite not being able to talk for several years. It wasn’t like him and Cas… where the last time they ever talked was more than a decade ago. And by that time, they weren’t even friends anymore. The last time they talked as friends was far longer than that. Thirteen years, if anyone was counting. And Sam was. He had been counting the days since he screwed everything up.

+++

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dean said on the phone later that night.

Sam sighed. “Hello to you too, Dean.”

He knew why Dean was calling, and he didn’t really want to talk about it with him now. It had been a really long day and he was a hair’s breadth away from passing out on his sofa as he read files for another case Cas asked him to look into. Plus, he was starting to get hungry from all his late-night reading.

“When were you going to tell me Cas is your boss, huh?” Dean asked.

“I’ve only had this job two weeks, Dean… I was gonna tell you eventually…” Sam said distractedly as he fished out his wallet from his pants to look for the number to that 24-hour Chinese place down the block.

“Yeah man, but we talked just the other day. What gives?”

“I didn’t think it was that important, Dean. I had a lot of things on my mind,” Sam explained.

“And you didn’t think it was important that you met Cas again?”

He made a noncommittal sound as he opened his wallet and for a brief second, the glint of the silver moose pendant he kept tucked in there blinded him. He smoothed his thumb over it fondly and felt a pang of guilt. He thought he had a perfectly reasonable excuse why he never mentioned Cas to Dean, but now that Dean was calling him out on it, it sounded worse than he thought. It was almost like he was hiding it from Dean, like he didn’t want Dean to find out about Cas and reconnect with him. And unconsciously, maybe that was exactly what he was doing. He felt like a terrible person. “But you got to talk to him, right?” Sam asked. “I assume that’s why you’re calling,” he said, pulling out a small piece of paper where he scribbled the number of the restaurant and tossing his wallet it to the side on the sofa.

“Well, yeah. I had to find out from him that you’re working together.”

“Yeah. And I found out from him you kept in contact until you moved to LA. You never told me about that,” Sam countered.

“You never asked, so I didn’t tell you. I thought you knew anyway, since everybody says you’re the brains of the family,” Dean said, and Sam could almost see him rolling his eyes. “Anyway it’s really lucky I got to talk to him again coz I’m making him one of the groomsmen at my wedding.”

“That’s great,” Sam said, imagining what it might feel like for Cas to stand in the wedding of someone you once loved-or still loved-very much. All Sam knew was if it were him, he’d rather be a thousand miles away than see Cas like that: getting married, starting a family, and being happy… with somebody else other than him. “You still haven’t demoted me from best man to ring bearer, right?” Sam joked, trying to bury the sad thoughts in his mind.

“Dude, no. That’d break Ben’s heart if you take his place. You can be the bouncer… stand guard and watch the gate at the reception,” Dean said with a laugh.

“Right,” Sam said in his most tolerant voice. “Listen, I’ll call you later, I’m gonna call for a delivery. I’m in the mood for some orange chicken…” Sam told Dean.

“Seriously? At like, what time is it there? Midnight? You’re already as big as a moose, Sam, you don’t wanna be a freakishly big moose, too.”

“Hey, don’t judge me. Remember, you woke up at 3 am that one time because you said you wanted pie,” Sam retorted.

“I had a pie dream, okay? You can’t ignore pie dreams.”

“I’m dreaming of orange chicken right now. I’ll call you later.”

“Fine. Say ‘hi’ to Cas for me when you see him again, okay? Tell him not to forget the wedding!” Dean instructed.

“Sure, talk to you later,” Sam said before hanging up. He glanced at his wallet which had landed open on the sofa beside him, the silver moose he kept there for years shining in the light from his reading lamp.

Dean was getting married. Cas was suddenly back in their lives. He didn’t know whether this was luck, like Dean said, or some cruel twist of fate. Hopelessly pining after someone who was pining after your brother. “Story of my life,” Sam said with a sigh before dialing the number for his midnight snack order.

Part 4