Fic : To Kiss (Or Try) In LA (Dean/Cas AU) PG13
Pairing:Dean/Cas
Rating:PG13
Warnings:None
Spoilers:None
Word Count:6474
Notes/Prompt(s): AU where Cas is a totally adorkable clothing-store clerk and Dean is a big shot movie star who comes to his store to buy clothes and flirt with Cas. Of course Cas is oblivious and Dean has to use every trick in the book to make Cas believe a guy like him could love a snarky sarcastic nobody like Cas. I'd like fluff and misunderstandings and plot if you choose this one.
Summary: Dean Winchester is an A-list actor with a crush on the guy from his favourite clothes store. Can he convince Cas that he really likes him? Or is their romance doomed to die a death of rom-com proportions?
Dean Winchester sipped on the smoothie that he wasn’t going to finish as he watched the door of Mo-d. He had to time this perfectly or Castiel might be tied up with another customer and he’d be dealt with by that blonde girl Jo, who, nice as she was, had not quite enough dick to be interesting to Dean. He held his breath as he spotted Cas lifting the boutique bag over the counter and glanced left to make sure that Jo was pre-occupied. When he was satisfied he sprung to his feet, dumping the smoothie in a nearby trash can as he headed for the store.
“Oh my God, are you Dean Winchester?!”
Shit.
Dean turned to his right to see a girl bouncing on her heels, hands clasped in front of her in excitement.
“Oh my God, I love you! I literally just got out of seeing Love Letters, I cried when you finally found your dead wife’s letters in the book you gave her in Paris, it was SO AWESOME!!” She stood, still bouncing expectantly as Dean gave a million dollar smile.
“I’m so glad you liked it, thank you.” He glanced at the store again to see Cas chatting with a tall guy over by the dress shirts.
“Could I please get a photo with you?” The girl asked, holding up her iPhone and grabbing him around the waist before he could answer. She pressed the shutter and held up her finger motioning him to wait until she had verified that this picture was AWESOME at least, or preferably OMG SQUEEE!
When she seemed happy Dean smiled again and told her to take care, not waiting for her to add a request for an autograph, or a hug, or a phone call to her sister who totally had a brain tumour.
Just as one irritant departed, Dean’s phone rang. His agent, Maria.
“I didn’t do anything!” He grumbled as she started to rant. Blah blah clothes store, blah blah exact same guy blah blah gay. “Look, I don’t care what it looks like it’s not like we’re making out or anything!” She started to yell and Dean held the phone away from his ear. “Well, yeah okay maybe I had my arm around him, but we’re buddies! Oh it was NOT on his ass. Oh whatever Maria, I have to go, I have a date with a pole dancer named Jim. Bye!”
He turned off his phone before she could call back and marched into Mo-d, seeking out Cas and rehearsing his lines in his head. Of course as soon as Cas turned to him and he saw those lazer blue eyes cutting into his soul his carefully practised and Emmy-winning writer penned opening gambit turned into “Hey special, how are ya?”
Cas furrowed his brow and tipped his head like he was watching a dog walk on its hind legs. “Special? Are you subconsciously trying to ask about our specials? Because I know what you got paid for that last chick flick you were in and unless you have a really bad coke habit you can buy this entire store, and me, for your pocket change.”
Dean grinned and sighed at the same time, his stomach doing a little flippy thing as Cas’s elusive smile emerged like a ... fawn wandering pensively into a woodland glade. Jesus, Dean, this is why Sammy’s the writer and you’re the actor. “Well maybe I should write you a cheque.”Smooth.
Cas gave him his ‘you’re weird’ look and shook the compliment off. “So, what can I do for you today? Shirt? Pants?”
“Y-yes. I need a whole new wardrobe actually, for Fall.” Dean nodded, calculating that this might get him a whole morning with Cas, and hopefully Old Yeller.
Cas nodded approvingly. “Excellent, well let’s start a colour wheel - “
“No! No, Cas, just gray, white and black, I’m serious now.”
Cas sighed indignantly, grabbing Dean by the elbow and leading him to a rack full of greens, oranges and browns. “Dean, that’s illogical. Come on, you have green eyes and freckles, you look amazing in browns and greens. That scene in Wounded Hearts when you’re in Montreal and you’re wearing the big bulky knit brown cardigan and sobbing in the park is a really good look for you. Please!”
Dean made a show of making the concession, although at this point if Cas had suggested he wear assless chaps and a bikini top he probably would. “Okay fine, but if I’m going to wear colours they’d better fit properly.” Subtle, Dean, really subtle.
Cas smirked. “Let me just get Old Yeller.”
Smiling, Dean went to wait at the combination-secured door to the Special Dressing Room. Only rich and famous people were allowed in here, in fact he had first laid eyes on Cas when a snooty assistant was trying to force Dean to use the ‘normal people’ dressing room and he swept him through to the fancy one, apologising dryly and confiding in Dean that ‘Erikk’ would never have seen something as popular as My Brother, My Donor because he only watched the French New Wave.
Cas came back brandishing Old Yeller, a 1950s yellow tailor’s tape measure previously owned by Castiel’s grandfather who had been a personal tailor to Frank Sinatra among others. The sight and smell of Old Yeller, the musty almost leathery scent of the aged cotton, now made Dean’s body react in a very interesting way. Whilst filming Love Letters he had gotten a whiff of some vintage shirts in wardrobe and had had to go immediately to his trailer and masturbate so that his boner didn’t show in a scene where he was supposed to be mourning his dead wife.
But it was what Cas did with that tape that made him have to breath deep and think of roadkill puppies to stop him painting the walls of the dressing room with his own special emulsion. It was the focus, the clinical nature with which he took his measurements and the shameless way he touched him, seemingly having no idea what he was doing to Dean. At first he had assumed Cas to be straight and just not on the same wavelength vis a vis almost touching his cock and balls once a season, but now he knew that Cas was gay thanks to some information from blabbermouth Jo, and he just couldn’t figure why there wasn’t more sexual tension where Cas was concerned.
Cas started chattering about some new fabrics which were being popularised by whoever and some colour combinations which had been the talk of wherever fashion week whilst he assaulted Dean’s body with the tape measure. Dean’s favourite measurements were shoulders, because it was the closest Cas came to kissing him, chest because it was the closest Cas came to cuddling him, and inside leg measurement because it was - well, for obvious reasons. The latter was also the most dangerous because it was only with some intense distraction techniques that Dean managed not to get a monster erection. He glanced down at Cas who seemed to think he was listening to his opinions on the new Prada line. “Hey Cas, can I ask you something?”
“Of course Dean, do you have a particular issue with plaid?”
“Wha - no, I was just wondering,” Dean swallowed hard as Cas put on the wire rimmed glasses he used for close work. Oh my God, the glasses. I love the glasses. “Erm, yeah just wondering, do you think I’m good looking?”
Cas furrowed his brow. “Of course I do. You’re incredibly good looking. Why?”
Dean faltered. “Why? I just..wondered. Because some people don’t think I am and you know us actors, we’re sensitive and vain.” WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME?!
Cas shook his head incredulously. “I can’t believe anyone would think you weren’t good looking, they would have to have very peculiar tastes.” Cas went about his measuring again, clearly feeling that conversation was over.
Rolling his eyes Dean tried to remember some of the lines that Sammy had written for him. “You know how it is, maybe people are jealous of the likes of us, you and me, handsome as we are, both equally handsome as each other and with neither one less handsome, unless it’s me because your eyes are prettier.” Dean was almost sure that was what Sam had written. Almost sure.
Cas stood up, winding Old Yeller around his finger and looking at Dean with some curiosity. “You’re very charming. I admire that about actors in general, the good ones always try to make you feel like they’re nothing special.” He nodded and picked up his cute little leather bound notebook in which he had been jotting down measurements. “You lost an inch round your waist since last time. Let’s get you some pants.”
“Yeah, okay, listen, Cas, I was wondering. Do you er, like movies?” Dean swallowed hard. “Because, I have passes for a screening of Brief Encounter tonight at the Egyptian and I wondered if you’d like to go with me?” He suddenly felt about five years old as those sapphire eyes bored into his soul.
Cas shrugged. “Sure.”
“Really? Great, you wanna eat first? I can pick you up at seven.” Dean bounced nervously, all thoughts of clothes and colour wheels gone from his head.
“Sure. Sounds good. I live on Olive Street, French Hills.” Cas punctuated their exchange with another nod. “Now, these pants are pure wool....”
For the next hour, Dean could barely get the smile off his face. As he walked out of Mo-d able to say ‘See you later’ to Cas his stomach did a somersault. He had a whole new wardrobe and a date with the most gorgeous guy in California, no, the WORLD. Dumping his bags into the trunk of his Prius, Dean clicked his heels and started to plan his moves for later. Cas was in for a treat.
__
Two hours later when Dean drove down Olive Street Cas was already stood on the sidewalk waiting. Dean grinned and stretched nervously as Cas eased into the Prius. He was wearing a soft looking blue shirt with a light grey tshirt underneath and the jeans which made his ass look amazing. His eyes looked even bluer than normal. if that were possible.
“You look great.” Dean blushed as he tried to play it cool.
“Thank you. So do you.” Cas looked straight ahead. “I love Brief Encounter, thank you again for asking me.”
“No, thank you! You wanna eat at the Pig and Whistle? It’s not fancy, but..”
“That sounds great, I love their chicken alfredo.”
“Dude, me too!” Dean smiled, this was going great. He started up the Prius and tried not to let his shaking hands drag them all over the road, it was literally a ten minute drive to the Pig and Whistle in the right traffic and he didn’t want their date to start with Cas’s pretty face splattered all over the windshield.
Later, after two chicken alfredos and a shared ice cream sundae with two spoons, which apparently came with a side order of amused waitress, they sat in the back row of screen one of the Egyptian Theater as the place filled.The seats weren’t really the kind where you could try the old yawn and stretch routine, but as the lights came down, Dean put his hand next to Cas’s on the armrest and let their pinkies brush together. It was pretty much the closest they were going to get to holding hands. Dean loved Brief Encounter. One day he wanted to go to England to the train station where they had filmed it. Maybe he and Cas could go together. On their honeymoon. He turned and looked at Cas, who was entranced by Dean’s favourite scene, where Trevor Howard gets a speck of dust out of Celia Johnson’s eye. Dean didn’t allow himself more than three seconds Cas-Eye time per day to stop himself from getting lost in them.
Just as Dean was wondering whether Cas was a screamer in bed, the credits started to roll and the house lights brightened. He quickly moved his hand and wondered where the last ninety minutes had gone as Cas stood up, his ass inches away from Dean’s face and looking distinctly grabable. As they joined the slow moving crowd Dean felt the heat from Cas’s body and stared at his soft hair. The smell of popcorn and the bustle of the crowd made it feel like date night and when they emerged from the theater Dean pulled Cas to one side, desperate not to let the evening end. “Hey, you wanna get a drink? There’s a pretty nice new cocktail place up near Whitley, we could jump in a cab.”
Cas frowned “Don’t you have the car?”
Shit. “Oh it’s okay, my brother’s picking it up. I told him I had a date.” Dean gave his three-movie-deal smile and Castiel made a kind of coughing sound which was apparently his laugh.
“Okay, sure.”
As Cas walked towards the road, Dean let his gaze land on that prize-winning ass. If he could actually tap that tonight he would worship this pretty little bastard for the rest of his days. He jogged after Cas, reminding himself to call Sam and beg to have his car picked up. This was going to cost him Oscars tickets, for sure.
In the dimly lit cocktail bar, Dean selected a table and left Cas to go pick some drinks.
“Hey Dean! One Roofy Colada coming up!”
“Hilarious Bro, two of your Tamarind Tequinis, and heavy on the Quini.” Brody was a great mixer, and Dean liked the fact that he called him out about his movies being crappy.
“Business meeting?” Brody nodded to towards Cas as he tossed the bottles around with a flourish.
Dean cleared his throat and checked over his shoulder. The bar was pretty much dead on a week day, no lurking tattle-tales. “Date actually.”
“Cool. He’s very er...well...”
“I know, I can never describe what it is about him either. Hot though,right?”
“Oh God, yeah. Handsome. Not that I partake of the gentlemen, but...yeah, he might persuade me.” Brody winked in that hetero way which means ‘I’m cool with you being gay but I get uncomfortable sometimes watching Top Gun.’ “Voila, two Tamarind Tequinis. Tab?”
“Hells yes.” Dean handed over his credit card and headed back to Cas, registering the surprised look on his face. “Tamarind Tequinis.” He explained as he pushed Cas’s glass towards him.
Cas took a sip and hummed. “Mmm, that is good. Spicy.”
“You wait to you have one of their Sunrises, they are superb.” Dean clinked their glasses and locked eyes with Cas. “Thanks for tonight, I’ve had a great time with you.”
“Me too. I don’t often...go out, like this. It’s nice.” There was something sad about the way Cas said it that made Dean want to jump up and cuddle him. He settled for reaching across and gently brushing his cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“Eyelash.” Dean explained, retracting his hand before Cas could see he was lying. “I love that scene in Brief Encounter, don’t you? With the dust in her eye?”
“Yes. I find the whole film very sad but very noble. It’s the British Casablanca.”
“If they made that movie now they’d probably get together in the end and there’d be some crappy flash forward to them in the maternity room as she gave birth.”
Cas smirked. “Yeah,and Laura would be played by Katherine Heigl.”
“And Alec would be played by...” Dean stopped, a flush coming to his cheek. “Well....Me.” He felt embarrassed until Cas covered his hand with his own and gave it a squeeze.
“You’re a much finer actor than IMDB would suggest. I mean that.” He took back his hand and took another sip on his Tequini. “Besides, I think Brief Encounter really needed less British stiff upper lip and more crying on park benches.”
Dean smiled. “That is my speciality.”
“What do you think about? To make yourself cry?”
“Oh you know...Things I might never get to do. Lost love. Love that never got the chance to be. That kind of thing. Or I just get someone to kick me in the balls right before we do a take.”
Cas’s eyes lit up as he laughed and Dean stored that away in his mental Cas file. Ball jokes.
“Well if you ever need an assistant, I’d be happy to kick you in the balls. Better someone you know does it, right?”
“Thanks Cas, you’re awesome.”
Later, after Brody had kicked them out and they got a sweet head rush from their alcohol-infected brains and the cold night air, they wandered back up Hollywood Boulevard where they were more likely to get a cab. Dean realised all too late that he couldn’t exactly go in for the kill and try to kiss Cas. Cab drivers talk, and it wasn’t like Cas was offering it to him on a plate, their was significant risk involved. By the time his brain had stopped whirring, Cas was climbing out of the cab and thanking Dean for a great evening. He had squeezed Dean’s arm and smiled warmly, and then he was gone. It took a whiskey, five minutes of jerking off and a phone call to Sam to arrange a crisis meeting before Dean could drift off to sleep. As usual, he dreamed of Cas.
---------
The Cat and Fiddle was one of Dean’s favourite places to meet and talk privately with Sam. His usual table was nicely positioned so that he could see people coming and change the subject from “How do I get in Cas’s pants?” to something less likely to make him a blind item on Perez.
“Okay, so did you do the line I gave you?” Sam sipped on his Earl Gray, and jabbed at his iPad.
“Yes! I said exactly what you said and he said something about actors playing down how hot they were.”
Sam furrowed his brow. “You said exactly what I wrote?”
“Yes!! Well...Maybe I ad libbed.” Dean bit into his burger and tried not to make eye contact, which was easy seeing as Sam’s eyes were rolling back into his head.
“Don’t ad lib, you’re not smart enough to ad lib, and I say that with love, dude. Don’t ad lib.”
“Fine. Can we just think of some more lines, my balls are bluer than Cas’s eyes.”
“Yeah, we’ll lead with that little gem, shall we?” Sam sighed. “Okay, tell me how you feel physically when you see Cas.”
Dean sat back in his chair, the breeze in the courtyard ruffling his hair. “I smile, without even trying, the smile is just there, you know? Then my stomach goes all weird, like it’s dropping into my shoes. Then I start shaking with excitement. Then I get a boner.” Dean shrugged.
“Okay...” Sam did more iPad jabbing. “What is it about his looks that you like?”
“Oh man....” Dean stared into the middle distance. “Have you seen his eyes? That’s not even a real colour. I was so sure they were contacts that I ended up almost poking his eye out with a pen. And his hair, it smells so great and it’s so soft. I want to ruffle it. And smell it. His skin smells good too, and I want to lick it, but I haven’t yet..”
“Great, okay, please stop.” Sam put his head in his hands. “OK let’s go through your last three dates again...”
“God, I got balled out for the second one cos I was papped with my arm around him. So that makes the screening of Brief Encounter, the dinner where he thought he was only invited because he could read the French menu, and the boat trip around the beach caves where I went to kiss him and we both fell in, it was like the freakin’ Little Mermaid!” Dean shook his head in frustration.
“You must be doing something wrong, how can you have been on so many dates without him knowing you like him?”
“He doesn’t think they’re REAL!” Dean yelled,before turning to the nearest table and raising his hand in an unspoken apology. He leaned towards Sam, his voice lowered. “We’ve been to dinner, we’ve been to the movies, we’ve been to the God damned Farmer’s Market! He just thinks we’re buddies, he’s completely oblivious!”
“Well then you need to get him to your place, ply him with booze and pounce on him, and I can’t believe I am giving you this advice...” Sam turned off his iPad and stowed it carefully in its leather case, ignoring Dean’s derisive chuckle. “Ok..You have to really amp up the romance, stare into his eyes, hold his hand, buy him flowers, the whole deal. You have to leave no doubt in his mind that you are completely and utterly crazy about him.”
Dean threw up his hands. “Great, and what if he doesn’t like me that way?”
“Go to plan B - ‘Hey does rag smell of chloroform to you?’ - what the hell do you think, Dean? If he doesn’t like you that way then it’s over. Sure, maybe you can’t be friends but at least you’ll know, and it’s not like you can just make this go away, okay? It’s gone too far now.”
“I guess. Okay, okay good plan. So I need to totally sweep him off his feet - what do I do? Normally I just smile and their pants are on my ceiling fan.” Dean smiled to himself. He was awesome.
“Romance is all about making the other person feel like they’re the most important thing in the world to you. You need to do your homework - find out what he likes, what makes him happy.”
“He likes the Dave Matthews Band and mint hot chocolate..er, let’s see, he likes really nice pens and he gets a massage once a month. He saves every dollar coin he gets in a jar and empties it on his birthday to go get cocktails at this place he loves on La Brea. His favourite meal is grilled salmon with sweet potato wedges and sour cream and a jacket potato. His favourite movie is 12 Angry Men. He loves the fall and he would love to go to England and visit the Tower of London. He gets this organic shaving cream which smells of bergamot, which is why your Earl Gray tea is making me horny. He has a little mole on his...”
“Okay, stop!” Sam took a deep breath. “Fuck, you’re in love with this dude.”
“Am not!” Dean said automatically. “Oh wait, yeah I guess I am. But there’s one little issue here Einstein, how can I be super romantic with him when I’m so far into the closet there’s snow on my back from the magical kingdom of Narnia? You think my agent who bought a boat off the back of me being the number one romantic comedy lead in the world is going to like me holding hands with a guy? She’ll have my pretty, unwrinkled balls as earrings.”
“Is she still peddling that ridiculous lie about the gay play?”
Dean nodded. About six months ago Dean had been photographed snuggling with a hot male dancer in Bar Marmont. Dean had been more irritated that he got caught at Bar Marmont instead of Chateau but Maria had spun a line about him being immersed in the Method for a role in a gay themed off-Broadway play. They honestly hadn’t expected anyone to buy it but a little bargaining had led to the pictures not being run and instead, the rumours of his challenging and non-existent role in ‘Falsettoland’ had hit the press. Just after a ‘leaked’ set of pictures of him frolicking with a topless model in Malibu who had been paid handsomely for her time.
Sam shrugged. “So take him to your place if you have to. Just lay on the romance until there is no doubt in his mind that you want him for a butt-buddy.” Sam went to drink his Earl Gray but suddenly didn’t find it so appealing.
“Yeah, that sounds real romantic, Hallmark makes a packet off its ‘butt-buddy’ line.” Dean stood, clapping Sam on the back and checking his watch. “Okay, wish me luck, he gets off in twenty minutes.”
“You’re starting now? You don’t wanna plan a little more first?”
Dean shook his head throwing twice the check amount on the table. “Did you not hear what I said about the blue and the balls? Carpe diem, brother.” He winked as Sam shook his head and took a deep, cleansing breath. Romance. He could do romance.
His mind was whirring so fast that he barely noticed the drive to the Grove. He parked up and bought a bunch of roses, checking for paps as best he could and telling the florist they were for his mom. He waited on the second floor parking garage where he knew Cas parked his car and practised what he was going to say. Sam was great at lines, but this had to be from the heart, all romantic and snuggly like. As he heard the elevator hum he took another breath and sniffed under his arms just in case. Just then Cas came through the elevator doors, doing a double take as he saw Dean standing there with the dozen pink flowers.
“Hello Dean.”
“Hey Cas, I er... you have a good day?” Dean gave his most charming smile and thrust out the roses. “These are for you. They’re the same colour as your lips.”
Cas blinked once, then took the flowers. “Thank you Dean. These are beautiful. Is there a reason why you’re buying me roses?”
Dean cleared his throat and did another check for paps. “I was hoping you’d let me take you out for dinner tonight. Or maybe we could pick something up and go to my place?”
Cas shrugged. “Sure. Your place sounds good. I’ll follow you in my car.”
And as simple as that, Dean was driving to his place with Cas’s black Chevy Impala in the rear view mirror. On the hands free he called Cas’s favourite restaurant and paid a ridiculous amount to have them cook up their grilled salmon and sweet potato and send it over. He had champagne chilling at home which cost five figures and he had a suitably drippy and chocolately dessert in the fridge which would look beautiful against Cas’s milky skin and taste phenomenal as it was licked off of it. This was it, all guns blazing. Tonight, Cas did not stand a chance.
As they pulled into the driveway Dean swelled a little at the thought of showing Cas what he was in for. The house, on Mulholland, was impressive. Seven bed, five bath, a nice garden at the back and gravelled forecourt and fountain at the front. Two pools, one in, one out, a movie theater, gym and ballroom. Cas could be the Queen of this castle - Dean could just picture them sitting side by side in the jacuzzi bathtub as they sipped on Krug and decided whether to take the boat out to Malibu or to helicopter down to Catalina and just rent one to go see the seals and the flying fish. He imagined their matching luggage being wheeled through the lobby of the London Ritz on one of the stops on their European honeymoon, and the look on Cas’s face when he bought him Frank Sinatra’s baby grand piano for the lobby.
Cas was stood by the Impala seemingly frozen to the spot. Dean jogged over and slung an arm around his shoulder.
“Shall we?”
Cas nodded and gingerly put an arm around Dean’s waist as they headed for the door. Dean’s stomach flipped as he turned his key and ushered Cas inside. The place smelled good, that was a relief. A big house with only one person in it can quickly start to smell a little stale but thank God Marisol had been there that day with her team to clean, polish and make sure that the place looked like a show home. Dean closed the door behind them and then proceeded to give Cas the tour. At first he was quiet, only making a few little approving noises until they hit the master bedroom and he started to loosen up, sarcastically asking if one TV in the bathroom was quite enough and giving a disappointed grunt when he found out it wasn’t available in 3D. By the time they made it to the den Cas was more relaxed, kicking his shoes off and sinking into the couch as Dean sat next to him, uncorking the champagne.
“You like Krug Cas?” Dean asked, “or is that too bling? You want root beer?” He smirked as Cas murmered back that Krug was fine ‘I guess’ and Dean took a minute to play make believe again as he poured. Cas would keep his feet on the ground. They would spend their Sunday mornings in the kitchen, Cas would make him Eggs Benedict and chastise him for drinking too much coffee. Then they’d sit in the outdoor pool and read the papers before one of them would inevitably pull the other under the waterfall and let the water beat strong as their hearts as they kissed. “Dinner’s on its way, in the mean time, to us.” Dean clinked their glasses as Cas raised his eyebrows.
“Your house is amazing, Dean. Do you invite a lot of people over?.” Cas’s soft white linen shirt shushed as he made himself more comfortable. He let his head rest on the back of the couch, his blue eyes sparkling. Dean longed to breath in the smell of Cas’s skin on his exposed neck, and nibble at that perfect earlobe.
“I only bring people here who mean a lot to me. My privacy is important, only people I can trust get to come here. People who I want to be in my life.”
Cas swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he fought for composure. “Well thank you, that’s a lovely compliment.”
Dean held Castiel’s gaze, shuffling closer to him before gently stroking his arm. “It’s an honour that you joined me. I love your company.”He purred, focusing on Cas’s soft lips and willing the man to meet him in a kiss. There was a palpable tension as Cas’s breathing hitched and he let his eyes close, prompting Dean to lean in and hold him as if he were made of crystal, pressing their lips together softly and sighing with relief as the planning and brooding of the last few months came to a head and they melted into each others arms. It felt right kissing Cas. It felt like a stolen kiss while the kids were outside playing or an anniversary where that old spark caught itself in their eyes and they made out like teenagers oblivious to anyone else on the planet. Dean held Cas closer and nuzzled his neck as their lips separated. This was it. He could tell Cas how he felt about him, they could begin their epic love story and plan their lives together. They could -
“I’m sorry Dean, I can’t do this, I have to leave.” Cas jumped up and broke into a run as Dean sat speechless. He ran back over the last five minutes - Cas was happy, he was relaxed, he was warm and pliable and smelled like Earl Gray and the kids were outside playing and it was their anniversary and they were going to do the crossword and stand under the waterfall God dammit! Dean shook himself and went after Cas, sighing with relief when he saw the Impala sat motionless just outside the closed electric gates, to which he had the controller. He took a breath and walked to Cas’s car, opening the passenger side door and getting in as Cas’s head hung sadly.
“I forgot about your space age gates.” He mumbled, twisting his fingers nervously.
“What happened Cas? Don’t you like me? I thought...I felt like you did.” All of a sudden Sam’s words were of no use as Dean tried to untangle his knotted romantic brain. “I thought this was the start of something, I - “
“Dean stop it! Just stop! It’s not fair.” Cas’s voice wobbled as he clenched his fists and let out a shaky breath. “This isn’t a game for me, I really have feelings for you and I know I shouldn’t have let myself go along with this but I can’t let it go any further. You’re just going to have to...find someone else to do your little role play with. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t, I’m sorry.” Cas let his head drop into his hands and Dean gaped, half horrified and half jealous at Cas’s emotional range. He would have to get him to teach him that head drop thing.
“Cas - I’m dumb, okay, I have no idea what - “ Suddenly, a light went on above Dean’s head. It was the automatic timer on the Victorian-style lamp post he’d had installed in his driveway but it also represented something else. “Cas, by any chance do you read Celebchat magazine? Or TinselTattle Online?”
Cas’s head rose a little and he gave a tiny nod. “I’m sorry Dean. It was Jo who showed me the article. I was confused because I thought you were flirting with me and I didn’t understand why, I mean I’m just a ...shop clerk. I’m nothing special, I could never compete with any of the models and actresses you’ve been linked with. I was confused and then Jo explained, you were Method acting, for the Falsettoland role.” Cas’s voice was small and he wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes.
Dean waited for his brain to catch up with what Cas had said. “You BOUGHT THAT FUCKING NONSENSE? Cas, seriously, I thought you were smarter than that! Listen - “ Dean took Cas by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “I’m crazy about you. And one of the reasons for that is that you have a penis. I am gay. I like guys. I got caught cuddling some dancer and my publicist had to drop the big gay smokescreen on a few tabloids with the threat of litigation on the side.”
Cas shook his head. “But the clumsy flirting? The bad pick-up lines, the romantic schtick, the frankly embarrassing set-pieces which could have come out of one of your worse movies, the woeful - “
“Yeah thanks Cas, that was all me. And my brother won an Emmy for some of that shit, so don’t judge, okay?” Dean rubbed at his eyes. “Please, please can we go inside and make out now? I had this fantasy of cuddling you on my giant couch as the fire crackling noise plays on my iPod on surround sound.” He smiled shyly and reached over to run his fingers through Cas’s hair.
Cas smiled back at him and stepped out of the car. Dean followed, taking his hand as they neared the house. “Why do you drive that damn thing? Piece of junkyard bait if you ask me, I’m gonna buy you a nice Jag, something that matches your eyes.”
With a sharp smack to Dean’s ass, Castiel remonstrated with him. “That is a classic car, you heathen. I can’t believe you drive a Prius, I bet there are a zillion unrecyclable Lamill coffee cups in the back just waiting to clog up a Mexican landfill.”
Dean tackle hugged Cas as they crossed the threshold and propelled him into the den and onto the couch. He fiddled with the remote to get the fire sounds going while Cas filled their champagne glasses. When Dean was satisfied he snaked an arm around Cas’s waist and tangled their legs together, taking the opportunity to also sink his face into Cas’s hair and breathe in the smell. “You really are something, you know that? I’m kind of obsessed with you. You’re so beautiful.” Dean nuzzled Castiel’s ear. “How could you think I was faking it? All those times I flirted with you? It wasn’t obvious?”
“You’re a movie star, you’re a millionaire, you win awards called ‘Sexiest Male’ and ‘Best Ass’. You have your own cologne.”
“Sinchester! I came up with the name.” Dean added proudly.
Cas rested his head on Dean’s. “I just work in a clothes store. I feel like Cinderella.”
Dean chuckled. “Well, you can have it all, baby. Glass shoes. Carriages. Access to my balls. I mean, the ball.” He took their champagne glasses and set them on the coffee table, running his hand up Cas’s thigh and staring into his eyes with complete disregard to his own three second rule. For the second time that night, their lips met, and Dean couldn’t help but smile as he felt the sure touch of Castiel against his skin.
Epilogue - Ten Years Later
“Aspen! For God’s sake, put that down - if you break it the Academy charges you $20,000 for a new one.” Dean rolled his eyes as his son set down the Oscar and ran off to bug his sister. “I swear that boy is going to be a tailor, he’s obsessed with anything that looks like a body.”
“A tailor, or a Winchester.” Castiel moved Dean’s eggs around the pan as he watched their children push each other into the waterfall. “Did you call the travel agent? The Quinto-Pine wedding is in a month and I don’t even know if the Four Seasons has a family room, we might have to take the nanny. Or your brother.”
Dean waved off the question. “Taken care of, we’re staying at Brad and Angelina’s place while they’re in Kenya, we’ll get the chopper in. I’m still pissed at the Four Seasons after their damn dry cleaning service wrecked my 1974 Zepellin tour shirt,. That was an original.”
Cas plated up the Eggs Benedict and kissed Dean’s forehead. “Don’t forget that Savannah’s pony needs new shoes. When does the new PA start? This stuff is filling up my brain when I should be starting on the summer collection.”
Dean smiled at his husband. “Okay, you did not just say that. I think I need to bring you back down to earth - you, me, Tamarind Tequinis with Brody later, then we’re getting burgers from In & Out and cuddling on the couch. Deal?”
Cas crawled into Dean’s lap, lazily kissing him. “Deal.”
Rating:PG13
Warnings:None
Spoilers:None
Word Count:6474
Notes/Prompt(s): AU where Cas is a totally adorkable clothing-store clerk and Dean is a big shot movie star who comes to his store to buy clothes and flirt with Cas. Of course Cas is oblivious and Dean has to use every trick in the book to make Cas believe a guy like him could love a snarky sarcastic nobody like Cas. I'd like fluff and misunderstandings and plot if you choose this one.
Summary: Dean Winchester is an A-list actor with a crush on the guy from his favourite clothes store. Can he convince Cas that he really likes him? Or is their romance doomed to die a death of rom-com proportions?
Dean Winchester sipped on the smoothie that he wasn’t going to finish as he watched the door of Mo-d. He had to time this perfectly or Castiel might be tied up with another customer and he’d be dealt with by that blonde girl Jo, who, nice as she was, had not quite enough dick to be interesting to Dean. He held his breath as he spotted Cas lifting the boutique bag over the counter and glanced left to make sure that Jo was pre-occupied. When he was satisfied he sprung to his feet, dumping the smoothie in a nearby trash can as he headed for the store.
“Oh my God, are you Dean Winchester?!”
Shit.
Dean turned to his right to see a girl bouncing on her heels, hands clasped in front of her in excitement.
“Oh my God, I love you! I literally just got out of seeing Love Letters, I cried when you finally found your dead wife’s letters in the book you gave her in Paris, it was SO AWESOME!!” She stood, still bouncing expectantly as Dean gave a million dollar smile.
“I’m so glad you liked it, thank you.” He glanced at the store again to see Cas chatting with a tall guy over by the dress shirts.
“Could I please get a photo with you?” The girl asked, holding up her iPhone and grabbing him around the waist before he could answer. She pressed the shutter and held up her finger motioning him to wait until she had verified that this picture was AWESOME at least, or preferably OMG SQUEEE!
When she seemed happy Dean smiled again and told her to take care, not waiting for her to add a request for an autograph, or a hug, or a phone call to her sister who totally had a brain tumour.
Just as one irritant departed, Dean’s phone rang. His agent, Maria.
“I didn’t do anything!” He grumbled as she started to rant. Blah blah clothes store, blah blah exact same guy blah blah gay. “Look, I don’t care what it looks like it’s not like we’re making out or anything!” She started to yell and Dean held the phone away from his ear. “Well, yeah okay maybe I had my arm around him, but we’re buddies! Oh it was NOT on his ass. Oh whatever Maria, I have to go, I have a date with a pole dancer named Jim. Bye!”
He turned off his phone before she could call back and marched into Mo-d, seeking out Cas and rehearsing his lines in his head. Of course as soon as Cas turned to him and he saw those lazer blue eyes cutting into his soul his carefully practised and Emmy-winning writer penned opening gambit turned into “Hey special, how are ya?”
Cas furrowed his brow and tipped his head like he was watching a dog walk on its hind legs. “Special? Are you subconsciously trying to ask about our specials? Because I know what you got paid for that last chick flick you were in and unless you have a really bad coke habit you can buy this entire store, and me, for your pocket change.”
Dean grinned and sighed at the same time, his stomach doing a little flippy thing as Cas’s elusive smile emerged like a ... fawn wandering pensively into a woodland glade. Jesus, Dean, this is why Sammy’s the writer and you’re the actor. “Well maybe I should write you a cheque.”Smooth.
Cas gave him his ‘you’re weird’ look and shook the compliment off. “So, what can I do for you today? Shirt? Pants?”
“Y-yes. I need a whole new wardrobe actually, for Fall.” Dean nodded, calculating that this might get him a whole morning with Cas, and hopefully Old Yeller.
Cas nodded approvingly. “Excellent, well let’s start a colour wheel - “
“No! No, Cas, just gray, white and black, I’m serious now.”
Cas sighed indignantly, grabbing Dean by the elbow and leading him to a rack full of greens, oranges and browns. “Dean, that’s illogical. Come on, you have green eyes and freckles, you look amazing in browns and greens. That scene in Wounded Hearts when you’re in Montreal and you’re wearing the big bulky knit brown cardigan and sobbing in the park is a really good look for you. Please!”
Dean made a show of making the concession, although at this point if Cas had suggested he wear assless chaps and a bikini top he probably would. “Okay fine, but if I’m going to wear colours they’d better fit properly.” Subtle, Dean, really subtle.
Cas smirked. “Let me just get Old Yeller.”
Smiling, Dean went to wait at the combination-secured door to the Special Dressing Room. Only rich and famous people were allowed in here, in fact he had first laid eyes on Cas when a snooty assistant was trying to force Dean to use the ‘normal people’ dressing room and he swept him through to the fancy one, apologising dryly and confiding in Dean that ‘Erikk’ would never have seen something as popular as My Brother, My Donor because he only watched the French New Wave.
Cas came back brandishing Old Yeller, a 1950s yellow tailor’s tape measure previously owned by Castiel’s grandfather who had been a personal tailor to Frank Sinatra among others. The sight and smell of Old Yeller, the musty almost leathery scent of the aged cotton, now made Dean’s body react in a very interesting way. Whilst filming Love Letters he had gotten a whiff of some vintage shirts in wardrobe and had had to go immediately to his trailer and masturbate so that his boner didn’t show in a scene where he was supposed to be mourning his dead wife.
But it was what Cas did with that tape that made him have to breath deep and think of roadkill puppies to stop him painting the walls of the dressing room with his own special emulsion. It was the focus, the clinical nature with which he took his measurements and the shameless way he touched him, seemingly having no idea what he was doing to Dean. At first he had assumed Cas to be straight and just not on the same wavelength vis a vis almost touching his cock and balls once a season, but now he knew that Cas was gay thanks to some information from blabbermouth Jo, and he just couldn’t figure why there wasn’t more sexual tension where Cas was concerned.
Cas started chattering about some new fabrics which were being popularised by whoever and some colour combinations which had been the talk of wherever fashion week whilst he assaulted Dean’s body with the tape measure. Dean’s favourite measurements were shoulders, because it was the closest Cas came to kissing him, chest because it was the closest Cas came to cuddling him, and inside leg measurement because it was - well, for obvious reasons. The latter was also the most dangerous because it was only with some intense distraction techniques that Dean managed not to get a monster erection. He glanced down at Cas who seemed to think he was listening to his opinions on the new Prada line. “Hey Cas, can I ask you something?”
“Of course Dean, do you have a particular issue with plaid?”
“Wha - no, I was just wondering,” Dean swallowed hard as Cas put on the wire rimmed glasses he used for close work. Oh my God, the glasses. I love the glasses. “Erm, yeah just wondering, do you think I’m good looking?”
Cas furrowed his brow. “Of course I do. You’re incredibly good looking. Why?”
Dean faltered. “Why? I just..wondered. Because some people don’t think I am and you know us actors, we’re sensitive and vain.” WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME?!
Cas shook his head incredulously. “I can’t believe anyone would think you weren’t good looking, they would have to have very peculiar tastes.” Cas went about his measuring again, clearly feeling that conversation was over.
Rolling his eyes Dean tried to remember some of the lines that Sammy had written for him. “You know how it is, maybe people are jealous of the likes of us, you and me, handsome as we are, both equally handsome as each other and with neither one less handsome, unless it’s me because your eyes are prettier.” Dean was almost sure that was what Sam had written. Almost sure.
Cas stood up, winding Old Yeller around his finger and looking at Dean with some curiosity. “You’re very charming. I admire that about actors in general, the good ones always try to make you feel like they’re nothing special.” He nodded and picked up his cute little leather bound notebook in which he had been jotting down measurements. “You lost an inch round your waist since last time. Let’s get you some pants.”
“Yeah, okay, listen, Cas, I was wondering. Do you er, like movies?” Dean swallowed hard. “Because, I have passes for a screening of Brief Encounter tonight at the Egyptian and I wondered if you’d like to go with me?” He suddenly felt about five years old as those sapphire eyes bored into his soul.
Cas shrugged. “Sure.”
“Really? Great, you wanna eat first? I can pick you up at seven.” Dean bounced nervously, all thoughts of clothes and colour wheels gone from his head.
“Sure. Sounds good. I live on Olive Street, French Hills.” Cas punctuated their exchange with another nod. “Now, these pants are pure wool....”
For the next hour, Dean could barely get the smile off his face. As he walked out of Mo-d able to say ‘See you later’ to Cas his stomach did a somersault. He had a whole new wardrobe and a date with the most gorgeous guy in California, no, the WORLD. Dumping his bags into the trunk of his Prius, Dean clicked his heels and started to plan his moves for later. Cas was in for a treat.
__
Two hours later when Dean drove down Olive Street Cas was already stood on the sidewalk waiting. Dean grinned and stretched nervously as Cas eased into the Prius. He was wearing a soft looking blue shirt with a light grey tshirt underneath and the jeans which made his ass look amazing. His eyes looked even bluer than normal. if that were possible.
“You look great.” Dean blushed as he tried to play it cool.
“Thank you. So do you.” Cas looked straight ahead. “I love Brief Encounter, thank you again for asking me.”
“No, thank you! You wanna eat at the Pig and Whistle? It’s not fancy, but..”
“That sounds great, I love their chicken alfredo.”
“Dude, me too!” Dean smiled, this was going great. He started up the Prius and tried not to let his shaking hands drag them all over the road, it was literally a ten minute drive to the Pig and Whistle in the right traffic and he didn’t want their date to start with Cas’s pretty face splattered all over the windshield.
Later, after two chicken alfredos and a shared ice cream sundae with two spoons, which apparently came with a side order of amused waitress, they sat in the back row of screen one of the Egyptian Theater as the place filled.The seats weren’t really the kind where you could try the old yawn and stretch routine, but as the lights came down, Dean put his hand next to Cas’s on the armrest and let their pinkies brush together. It was pretty much the closest they were going to get to holding hands. Dean loved Brief Encounter. One day he wanted to go to England to the train station where they had filmed it. Maybe he and Cas could go together. On their honeymoon. He turned and looked at Cas, who was entranced by Dean’s favourite scene, where Trevor Howard gets a speck of dust out of Celia Johnson’s eye. Dean didn’t allow himself more than three seconds Cas-Eye time per day to stop himself from getting lost in them.
Just as Dean was wondering whether Cas was a screamer in bed, the credits started to roll and the house lights brightened. He quickly moved his hand and wondered where the last ninety minutes had gone as Cas stood up, his ass inches away from Dean’s face and looking distinctly grabable. As they joined the slow moving crowd Dean felt the heat from Cas’s body and stared at his soft hair. The smell of popcorn and the bustle of the crowd made it feel like date night and when they emerged from the theater Dean pulled Cas to one side, desperate not to let the evening end. “Hey, you wanna get a drink? There’s a pretty nice new cocktail place up near Whitley, we could jump in a cab.”
Cas frowned “Don’t you have the car?”
Shit. “Oh it’s okay, my brother’s picking it up. I told him I had a date.” Dean gave his three-movie-deal smile and Castiel made a kind of coughing sound which was apparently his laugh.
“Okay, sure.”
As Cas walked towards the road, Dean let his gaze land on that prize-winning ass. If he could actually tap that tonight he would worship this pretty little bastard for the rest of his days. He jogged after Cas, reminding himself to call Sam and beg to have his car picked up. This was going to cost him Oscars tickets, for sure.
In the dimly lit cocktail bar, Dean selected a table and left Cas to go pick some drinks.
“Hey Dean! One Roofy Colada coming up!”
“Hilarious Bro, two of your Tamarind Tequinis, and heavy on the Quini.” Brody was a great mixer, and Dean liked the fact that he called him out about his movies being crappy.
“Business meeting?” Brody nodded to towards Cas as he tossed the bottles around with a flourish.
Dean cleared his throat and checked over his shoulder. The bar was pretty much dead on a week day, no lurking tattle-tales. “Date actually.”
“Cool. He’s very er...well...”
“I know, I can never describe what it is about him either. Hot though,right?”
“Oh God, yeah. Handsome. Not that I partake of the gentlemen, but...yeah, he might persuade me.” Brody winked in that hetero way which means ‘I’m cool with you being gay but I get uncomfortable sometimes watching Top Gun.’ “Voila, two Tamarind Tequinis. Tab?”
“Hells yes.” Dean handed over his credit card and headed back to Cas, registering the surprised look on his face. “Tamarind Tequinis.” He explained as he pushed Cas’s glass towards him.
Cas took a sip and hummed. “Mmm, that is good. Spicy.”
“You wait to you have one of their Sunrises, they are superb.” Dean clinked their glasses and locked eyes with Cas. “Thanks for tonight, I’ve had a great time with you.”
“Me too. I don’t often...go out, like this. It’s nice.” There was something sad about the way Cas said it that made Dean want to jump up and cuddle him. He settled for reaching across and gently brushing his cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“Eyelash.” Dean explained, retracting his hand before Cas could see he was lying. “I love that scene in Brief Encounter, don’t you? With the dust in her eye?”
“Yes. I find the whole film very sad but very noble. It’s the British Casablanca.”
“If they made that movie now they’d probably get together in the end and there’d be some crappy flash forward to them in the maternity room as she gave birth.”
Cas smirked. “Yeah,and Laura would be played by Katherine Heigl.”
“And Alec would be played by...” Dean stopped, a flush coming to his cheek. “Well....Me.” He felt embarrassed until Cas covered his hand with his own and gave it a squeeze.
“You’re a much finer actor than IMDB would suggest. I mean that.” He took back his hand and took another sip on his Tequini. “Besides, I think Brief Encounter really needed less British stiff upper lip and more crying on park benches.”
Dean smiled. “That is my speciality.”
“What do you think about? To make yourself cry?”
“Oh you know...Things I might never get to do. Lost love. Love that never got the chance to be. That kind of thing. Or I just get someone to kick me in the balls right before we do a take.”
Cas’s eyes lit up as he laughed and Dean stored that away in his mental Cas file. Ball jokes.
“Well if you ever need an assistant, I’d be happy to kick you in the balls. Better someone you know does it, right?”
“Thanks Cas, you’re awesome.”
Later, after Brody had kicked them out and they got a sweet head rush from their alcohol-infected brains and the cold night air, they wandered back up Hollywood Boulevard where they were more likely to get a cab. Dean realised all too late that he couldn’t exactly go in for the kill and try to kiss Cas. Cab drivers talk, and it wasn’t like Cas was offering it to him on a plate, their was significant risk involved. By the time his brain had stopped whirring, Cas was climbing out of the cab and thanking Dean for a great evening. He had squeezed Dean’s arm and smiled warmly, and then he was gone. It took a whiskey, five minutes of jerking off and a phone call to Sam to arrange a crisis meeting before Dean could drift off to sleep. As usual, he dreamed of Cas.
---------
The Cat and Fiddle was one of Dean’s favourite places to meet and talk privately with Sam. His usual table was nicely positioned so that he could see people coming and change the subject from “How do I get in Cas’s pants?” to something less likely to make him a blind item on Perez.
“Okay, so did you do the line I gave you?” Sam sipped on his Earl Gray, and jabbed at his iPad.
“Yes! I said exactly what you said and he said something about actors playing down how hot they were.”
Sam furrowed his brow. “You said exactly what I wrote?”
“Yes!! Well...Maybe I ad libbed.” Dean bit into his burger and tried not to make eye contact, which was easy seeing as Sam’s eyes were rolling back into his head.
“Don’t ad lib, you’re not smart enough to ad lib, and I say that with love, dude. Don’t ad lib.”
“Fine. Can we just think of some more lines, my balls are bluer than Cas’s eyes.”
“Yeah, we’ll lead with that little gem, shall we?” Sam sighed. “Okay, tell me how you feel physically when you see Cas.”
Dean sat back in his chair, the breeze in the courtyard ruffling his hair. “I smile, without even trying, the smile is just there, you know? Then my stomach goes all weird, like it’s dropping into my shoes. Then I start shaking with excitement. Then I get a boner.” Dean shrugged.
“Okay...” Sam did more iPad jabbing. “What is it about his looks that you like?”
“Oh man....” Dean stared into the middle distance. “Have you seen his eyes? That’s not even a real colour. I was so sure they were contacts that I ended up almost poking his eye out with a pen. And his hair, it smells so great and it’s so soft. I want to ruffle it. And smell it. His skin smells good too, and I want to lick it, but I haven’t yet..”
“Great, okay, please stop.” Sam put his head in his hands. “OK let’s go through your last three dates again...”
“God, I got balled out for the second one cos I was papped with my arm around him. So that makes the screening of Brief Encounter, the dinner where he thought he was only invited because he could read the French menu, and the boat trip around the beach caves where I went to kiss him and we both fell in, it was like the freakin’ Little Mermaid!” Dean shook his head in frustration.
“You must be doing something wrong, how can you have been on so many dates without him knowing you like him?”
“He doesn’t think they’re REAL!” Dean yelled,before turning to the nearest table and raising his hand in an unspoken apology. He leaned towards Sam, his voice lowered. “We’ve been to dinner, we’ve been to the movies, we’ve been to the God damned Farmer’s Market! He just thinks we’re buddies, he’s completely oblivious!”
“Well then you need to get him to your place, ply him with booze and pounce on him, and I can’t believe I am giving you this advice...” Sam turned off his iPad and stowed it carefully in its leather case, ignoring Dean’s derisive chuckle. “Ok..You have to really amp up the romance, stare into his eyes, hold his hand, buy him flowers, the whole deal. You have to leave no doubt in his mind that you are completely and utterly crazy about him.”
Dean threw up his hands. “Great, and what if he doesn’t like me that way?”
“Go to plan B - ‘Hey does rag smell of chloroform to you?’ - what the hell do you think, Dean? If he doesn’t like you that way then it’s over. Sure, maybe you can’t be friends but at least you’ll know, and it’s not like you can just make this go away, okay? It’s gone too far now.”
“I guess. Okay, okay good plan. So I need to totally sweep him off his feet - what do I do? Normally I just smile and their pants are on my ceiling fan.” Dean smiled to himself. He was awesome.
“Romance is all about making the other person feel like they’re the most important thing in the world to you. You need to do your homework - find out what he likes, what makes him happy.”
“He likes the Dave Matthews Band and mint hot chocolate..er, let’s see, he likes really nice pens and he gets a massage once a month. He saves every dollar coin he gets in a jar and empties it on his birthday to go get cocktails at this place he loves on La Brea. His favourite meal is grilled salmon with sweet potato wedges and sour cream and a jacket potato. His favourite movie is 12 Angry Men. He loves the fall and he would love to go to England and visit the Tower of London. He gets this organic shaving cream which smells of bergamot, which is why your Earl Gray tea is making me horny. He has a little mole on his...”
“Okay, stop!” Sam took a deep breath. “Fuck, you’re in love with this dude.”
“Am not!” Dean said automatically. “Oh wait, yeah I guess I am. But there’s one little issue here Einstein, how can I be super romantic with him when I’m so far into the closet there’s snow on my back from the magical kingdom of Narnia? You think my agent who bought a boat off the back of me being the number one romantic comedy lead in the world is going to like me holding hands with a guy? She’ll have my pretty, unwrinkled balls as earrings.”
“Is she still peddling that ridiculous lie about the gay play?”
Dean nodded. About six months ago Dean had been photographed snuggling with a hot male dancer in Bar Marmont. Dean had been more irritated that he got caught at Bar Marmont instead of Chateau but Maria had spun a line about him being immersed in the Method for a role in a gay themed off-Broadway play. They honestly hadn’t expected anyone to buy it but a little bargaining had led to the pictures not being run and instead, the rumours of his challenging and non-existent role in ‘Falsettoland’ had hit the press. Just after a ‘leaked’ set of pictures of him frolicking with a topless model in Malibu who had been paid handsomely for her time.
Sam shrugged. “So take him to your place if you have to. Just lay on the romance until there is no doubt in his mind that you want him for a butt-buddy.” Sam went to drink his Earl Gray but suddenly didn’t find it so appealing.
“Yeah, that sounds real romantic, Hallmark makes a packet off its ‘butt-buddy’ line.” Dean stood, clapping Sam on the back and checking his watch. “Okay, wish me luck, he gets off in twenty minutes.”
“You’re starting now? You don’t wanna plan a little more first?”
Dean shook his head throwing twice the check amount on the table. “Did you not hear what I said about the blue and the balls? Carpe diem, brother.” He winked as Sam shook his head and took a deep, cleansing breath. Romance. He could do romance.
His mind was whirring so fast that he barely noticed the drive to the Grove. He parked up and bought a bunch of roses, checking for paps as best he could and telling the florist they were for his mom. He waited on the second floor parking garage where he knew Cas parked his car and practised what he was going to say. Sam was great at lines, but this had to be from the heart, all romantic and snuggly like. As he heard the elevator hum he took another breath and sniffed under his arms just in case. Just then Cas came through the elevator doors, doing a double take as he saw Dean standing there with the dozen pink flowers.
“Hello Dean.”
“Hey Cas, I er... you have a good day?” Dean gave his most charming smile and thrust out the roses. “These are for you. They’re the same colour as your lips.”
Cas blinked once, then took the flowers. “Thank you Dean. These are beautiful. Is there a reason why you’re buying me roses?”
Dean cleared his throat and did another check for paps. “I was hoping you’d let me take you out for dinner tonight. Or maybe we could pick something up and go to my place?”
Cas shrugged. “Sure. Your place sounds good. I’ll follow you in my car.”
And as simple as that, Dean was driving to his place with Cas’s black Chevy Impala in the rear view mirror. On the hands free he called Cas’s favourite restaurant and paid a ridiculous amount to have them cook up their grilled salmon and sweet potato and send it over. He had champagne chilling at home which cost five figures and he had a suitably drippy and chocolately dessert in the fridge which would look beautiful against Cas’s milky skin and taste phenomenal as it was licked off of it. This was it, all guns blazing. Tonight, Cas did not stand a chance.
As they pulled into the driveway Dean swelled a little at the thought of showing Cas what he was in for. The house, on Mulholland, was impressive. Seven bed, five bath, a nice garden at the back and gravelled forecourt and fountain at the front. Two pools, one in, one out, a movie theater, gym and ballroom. Cas could be the Queen of this castle - Dean could just picture them sitting side by side in the jacuzzi bathtub as they sipped on Krug and decided whether to take the boat out to Malibu or to helicopter down to Catalina and just rent one to go see the seals and the flying fish. He imagined their matching luggage being wheeled through the lobby of the London Ritz on one of the stops on their European honeymoon, and the look on Cas’s face when he bought him Frank Sinatra’s baby grand piano for the lobby.
Cas was stood by the Impala seemingly frozen to the spot. Dean jogged over and slung an arm around his shoulder.
“Shall we?”
Cas nodded and gingerly put an arm around Dean’s waist as they headed for the door. Dean’s stomach flipped as he turned his key and ushered Cas inside. The place smelled good, that was a relief. A big house with only one person in it can quickly start to smell a little stale but thank God Marisol had been there that day with her team to clean, polish and make sure that the place looked like a show home. Dean closed the door behind them and then proceeded to give Cas the tour. At first he was quiet, only making a few little approving noises until they hit the master bedroom and he started to loosen up, sarcastically asking if one TV in the bathroom was quite enough and giving a disappointed grunt when he found out it wasn’t available in 3D. By the time they made it to the den Cas was more relaxed, kicking his shoes off and sinking into the couch as Dean sat next to him, uncorking the champagne.
“You like Krug Cas?” Dean asked, “or is that too bling? You want root beer?” He smirked as Cas murmered back that Krug was fine ‘I guess’ and Dean took a minute to play make believe again as he poured. Cas would keep his feet on the ground. They would spend their Sunday mornings in the kitchen, Cas would make him Eggs Benedict and chastise him for drinking too much coffee. Then they’d sit in the outdoor pool and read the papers before one of them would inevitably pull the other under the waterfall and let the water beat strong as their hearts as they kissed. “Dinner’s on its way, in the mean time, to us.” Dean clinked their glasses as Cas raised his eyebrows.
“Your house is amazing, Dean. Do you invite a lot of people over?.” Cas’s soft white linen shirt shushed as he made himself more comfortable. He let his head rest on the back of the couch, his blue eyes sparkling. Dean longed to breath in the smell of Cas’s skin on his exposed neck, and nibble at that perfect earlobe.
“I only bring people here who mean a lot to me. My privacy is important, only people I can trust get to come here. People who I want to be in my life.”
Cas swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he fought for composure. “Well thank you, that’s a lovely compliment.”
Dean held Castiel’s gaze, shuffling closer to him before gently stroking his arm. “It’s an honour that you joined me. I love your company.”He purred, focusing on Cas’s soft lips and willing the man to meet him in a kiss. There was a palpable tension as Cas’s breathing hitched and he let his eyes close, prompting Dean to lean in and hold him as if he were made of crystal, pressing their lips together softly and sighing with relief as the planning and brooding of the last few months came to a head and they melted into each others arms. It felt right kissing Cas. It felt like a stolen kiss while the kids were outside playing or an anniversary where that old spark caught itself in their eyes and they made out like teenagers oblivious to anyone else on the planet. Dean held Cas closer and nuzzled his neck as their lips separated. This was it. He could tell Cas how he felt about him, they could begin their epic love story and plan their lives together. They could -
“I’m sorry Dean, I can’t do this, I have to leave.” Cas jumped up and broke into a run as Dean sat speechless. He ran back over the last five minutes - Cas was happy, he was relaxed, he was warm and pliable and smelled like Earl Gray and the kids were outside playing and it was their anniversary and they were going to do the crossword and stand under the waterfall God dammit! Dean shook himself and went after Cas, sighing with relief when he saw the Impala sat motionless just outside the closed electric gates, to which he had the controller. He took a breath and walked to Cas’s car, opening the passenger side door and getting in as Cas’s head hung sadly.
“I forgot about your space age gates.” He mumbled, twisting his fingers nervously.
“What happened Cas? Don’t you like me? I thought...I felt like you did.” All of a sudden Sam’s words were of no use as Dean tried to untangle his knotted romantic brain. “I thought this was the start of something, I - “
“Dean stop it! Just stop! It’s not fair.” Cas’s voice wobbled as he clenched his fists and let out a shaky breath. “This isn’t a game for me, I really have feelings for you and I know I shouldn’t have let myself go along with this but I can’t let it go any further. You’re just going to have to...find someone else to do your little role play with. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t, I’m sorry.” Cas let his head drop into his hands and Dean gaped, half horrified and half jealous at Cas’s emotional range. He would have to get him to teach him that head drop thing.
“Cas - I’m dumb, okay, I have no idea what - “ Suddenly, a light went on above Dean’s head. It was the automatic timer on the Victorian-style lamp post he’d had installed in his driveway but it also represented something else. “Cas, by any chance do you read Celebchat magazine? Or TinselTattle Online?”
Cas’s head rose a little and he gave a tiny nod. “I’m sorry Dean. It was Jo who showed me the article. I was confused because I thought you were flirting with me and I didn’t understand why, I mean I’m just a ...shop clerk. I’m nothing special, I could never compete with any of the models and actresses you’ve been linked with. I was confused and then Jo explained, you were Method acting, for the Falsettoland role.” Cas’s voice was small and he wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes.
Dean waited for his brain to catch up with what Cas had said. “You BOUGHT THAT FUCKING NONSENSE? Cas, seriously, I thought you were smarter than that! Listen - “ Dean took Cas by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “I’m crazy about you. And one of the reasons for that is that you have a penis. I am gay. I like guys. I got caught cuddling some dancer and my publicist had to drop the big gay smokescreen on a few tabloids with the threat of litigation on the side.”
Cas shook his head. “But the clumsy flirting? The bad pick-up lines, the romantic schtick, the frankly embarrassing set-pieces which could have come out of one of your worse movies, the woeful - “
“Yeah thanks Cas, that was all me. And my brother won an Emmy for some of that shit, so don’t judge, okay?” Dean rubbed at his eyes. “Please, please can we go inside and make out now? I had this fantasy of cuddling you on my giant couch as the fire crackling noise plays on my iPod on surround sound.” He smiled shyly and reached over to run his fingers through Cas’s hair.
Cas smiled back at him and stepped out of the car. Dean followed, taking his hand as they neared the house. “Why do you drive that damn thing? Piece of junkyard bait if you ask me, I’m gonna buy you a nice Jag, something that matches your eyes.”
With a sharp smack to Dean’s ass, Castiel remonstrated with him. “That is a classic car, you heathen. I can’t believe you drive a Prius, I bet there are a zillion unrecyclable Lamill coffee cups in the back just waiting to clog up a Mexican landfill.”
Dean tackle hugged Cas as they crossed the threshold and propelled him into the den and onto the couch. He fiddled with the remote to get the fire sounds going while Cas filled their champagne glasses. When Dean was satisfied he snaked an arm around Cas’s waist and tangled their legs together, taking the opportunity to also sink his face into Cas’s hair and breathe in the smell. “You really are something, you know that? I’m kind of obsessed with you. You’re so beautiful.” Dean nuzzled Castiel’s ear. “How could you think I was faking it? All those times I flirted with you? It wasn’t obvious?”
“You’re a movie star, you’re a millionaire, you win awards called ‘Sexiest Male’ and ‘Best Ass’. You have your own cologne.”
“Sinchester! I came up with the name.” Dean added proudly.
Cas rested his head on Dean’s. “I just work in a clothes store. I feel like Cinderella.”
Dean chuckled. “Well, you can have it all, baby. Glass shoes. Carriages. Access to my balls. I mean, the ball.” He took their champagne glasses and set them on the coffee table, running his hand up Cas’s thigh and staring into his eyes with complete disregard to his own three second rule. For the second time that night, their lips met, and Dean couldn’t help but smile as he felt the sure touch of Castiel against his skin.
Epilogue - Ten Years Later
“Aspen! For God’s sake, put that down - if you break it the Academy charges you $20,000 for a new one.” Dean rolled his eyes as his son set down the Oscar and ran off to bug his sister. “I swear that boy is going to be a tailor, he’s obsessed with anything that looks like a body.”
“A tailor, or a Winchester.” Castiel moved Dean’s eggs around the pan as he watched their children push each other into the waterfall. “Did you call the travel agent? The Quinto-Pine wedding is in a month and I don’t even know if the Four Seasons has a family room, we might have to take the nanny. Or your brother.”
Dean waved off the question. “Taken care of, we’re staying at Brad and Angelina’s place while they’re in Kenya, we’ll get the chopper in. I’m still pissed at the Four Seasons after their damn dry cleaning service wrecked my 1974 Zepellin tour shirt,. That was an original.”
Cas plated up the Eggs Benedict and kissed Dean’s forehead. “Don’t forget that Savannah’s pony needs new shoes. When does the new PA start? This stuff is filling up my brain when I should be starting on the summer collection.”
Dean smiled at his husband. “Okay, you did not just say that. I think I need to bring you back down to earth - you, me, Tamarind Tequinis with Brody later, then we’re getting burgers from In & Out and cuddling on the couch. Deal?”
Cas crawled into Dean’s lap, lazily kissing him. “Deal.”