Nothing Else Matters Part 4
[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3]
A/N: Sorry for the late update. I wanted the date to be slightly perfect, and the idjits were in no mood to cooperate. I have finally managed to get them on the same page tho’.
Part 4
“Are you sure?” Sam gaped into the phone. “As in completely, utterly, positively sure?”
“I know what I saw, okay?” Jo snapped. “I’m telling you, Sam. Something’s definitely cooking between your brother and his houseguest. I mean… he literally carried Dean over threshold and into the bedroom.”
“Awww. I wish I was there to see that,” Sam replied. “Please tell me you got pictures at least.”
“No dice, Gigantor,” Jo pouted. How could she have missed such a golden opportunity? “The guy was cradling Dean like a Godforsaken virgin bride. I’m lucky my brain didn’t spontaneously combust.”
“Jessica’ll never believe me,” he replied, still laughing at the thought of his brother being all shy virgin. As if on cue his desk phone rang. “Hold on, Jo,” he muttered into his cell, picking up the phone with other hand. “Samuel Winchester.”
“Mr. Winchester. Your wife’s here.”
“Thanks Claire. Send her in,” he said to his new secretary, smiling at her through the glass doors and replacing the receiver. The girl smiled back and nodded to Jess.
“Hey Jo, Jess’ here. Tell her you- I’ll call you back, Jo.” He abruptly cut off the line and stood up as his wife of 8 years faltered through the doors a wistful smile on her face, her eyes ghosting with dew. He guided her to the nearest seat and knelt in front of her. He knew she had an appointment with her gyneo today. “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, silently bracing himself for the worst.
Jessica Moore-Winchester smiled at her husband of 8 years kneeling before her, the same apprehensive look he had when he had proposed to her. She smiled, exactly the same way she had then. “I’m pregnant,” she replied.
-x-x-x-
Dean was in a dilemma. And it was all Sam's fault. Or rather, he decided he would blame Sam.
The day had been progressing nicely. Or as nicely Dean would have expected.
First, Cas had made breakfast - the most fluffiest, creamiest and awesomest scrambled eggs with a hint of pepper, nutmeg and mint, and lots and lots of bacon strips with some greenish herb seasoning. He’d only just stopped short of having a food orgasm… which, if it was going to be a daily thing, he’d better learn to control. And then Cas, the saint that he was, had packed the rest of the breakfast and told him to finish it for lunch. Breakfast. For Lunch. He had breakfast for lunch, thanks to Cas, which in Dean’s book made him a total marriage material despite all his misgivings.
Second, the workday had been slow, which was quite surprising after the crazy Cas rodeo of yesterday. Apart from his usual commitments, Dean had fielded only five Cas related calls, and because he had nothing better to do, he had spent the day happily ogling at his (Potential? Inevitable? Future?) boyfriend’s lily white ass bent over Mrs. Hudson’s Honda - and today he knew for a fact that Cas was being a tease because he had looked back over his shoulder, once, catching Dean’s eye, and there may or may not have been an impromptu dance session to Britney Spears - until Bobby yelled at both of them to get their heads in the job or get the hell out. After which, suffice to say, they’d both sobered up like fuck and Dean hadn’t even dared to look at Cas, except in a strictly platonic way, to make sure he was doing his job well.
And finally, Sam and Jess had called to say that they were indeed having a baby, but had issued strict instructions that the pregnancy was to remain within the confines of the immediate family for at least a month more. Castiel, however, was given a free pass since he was there the night Dean predicted it; not to mention, Jo, the traitor, had been spilling about little aftermath of their last night’s drive. Which is why Dean had had this exceptionally brilliant idea to take Cas out to celebrate.
But what was to be a simple drink at the Roadhouse turned into a potential date when Cas insisted on going home and getting a shower first. Of course, Dean had gone along with the idea because he too was feeling itchy and sweaty. It was only when he was buttoning the purple dress shirt that Cas had put out for him, along with black slacks, which Dean had no idea he owned, and a black tie, that he had the sudden revelation. Ergo, Sam’s fault.
-x-x-x-
“You alright, Major?” a voice called as knuckles rapped on his open bedroom door.
Dean looked up to see Cas standing in the doorway wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, which Dean was pretty sure belonged to him, and tight dark blue jeans, which Dean was pretty sure did not belong to Cas either.
“I found these in Sam’s old room,” Cas replied wiping his hands along the front of his thighs, smoothing the fabric unto his legs. “Hope you don’t mind.”
At first, Dean thought about making some snark about how he had never bothered about personal boundaries before, until he realized Cas was talking about the pants, that belonged to Sam, not Dean’s shirt he was so casually, comfortably wearing. “Uh… no. It’s alright. It’s not like Sam’s ever gonna wear them again. Besides,” he added “how the hell did you manage to fit into those? Sammy outgrew them when he was 17.”
“Narrow hips,” Cas replied, turning around and showing off his curvy butt, highlighted by the tightness of the pants. Dean gaped at how perfectly the jeans hugged his ass, before falling a bit loosely below his thighs. Sammy did always have slightly chunkier thighs.
Cas turned back around to face Dean and he took in the rest. Cas had left two top buttons of his shirt open and was wearing a thin silver chain around his neck, with a pendent neatly cradled in the V of his shirt, drawing the attention to the pale skin underneath, a perfect contrast to his lightly tanned neck. For some reason, he had taken the effort to comb his hair and Dean stared at the end result in horror. The hair made him look like some Jimmy Tax-Accountant from Illinois, not his Cas. He turned back to his bed, picked up the towel and turned to Cas, “C’mere”.
Cas obediently dropped to his knees before Dean and he ruffled his hair as best as he could. He gave the hair a last wipe, before leaning forward with, “don’t comb your hair. I like the messy hair better.”
Cas grinned and raised himself, and kissed Dean on the tip of his nose with “You’re the boss, Major” before standing up and combing his fingers through his hair, ruffling them further.
Dean would never admit it, except maybe to himself, but that simple act made him shiver right down to his bones. He smiled back and nodded, before wheeling himself out and motioning Cas to follow him.
-x-x-x-
“So where are we going?” Cas asked once they were safely inside the van.
Dean genuinely had no idea. When he had asked Cas out in the morning, he had been thinking about the Roadhouse, but since they were dressed too nicely, he decided on a small Italian restaurant on the other side of the town, away from the usual crowd. “I hope you like Italian,” he muttered, starting the car and pulling out.
-x-x-x-
Rizzo’s, popularly known as the “Second Date Restaurant”, was a small family owned restaurant in the nicer part of Sioux Falls, opened by Giovanni Rizzo, an Italian immigrant, sometime in the mid 1950s. Since then, the restaurant had been handed down for three generations, each one more Americanized than the last, but they still prided in the fact that they served real Italian food, some cheap gimmick. It had been one of Dean’s favourite places to take Carmen out when they were together.
The last time Dean had come to this place he had had both his legs functioning and had forgotten that the place was not exactly wheelchair friendly. They had to navigate a couple of steps, and for once Dean was more than willing to let Cas push him up, before wheeling inside.
They were immediately greeted by a tall girl with tired eyes and a practiced smile, “Hello. I’m Tessa, your host for the evening. How may I help you?”
“A table for two please,” Dean replied throwing his most charming Dean smile.
“This way please,” the girl replied turning around and walking towards one of the tables in the back, with two comfortable looking dining chairs. She moved one of the chairs away and patiently waited until both were seated, before handing them the menus and lighting the candle on their table, then leaned forward to say, “Sorry for the inconvenience. We know this place isn’t exactly handicap friendly-” before Dean cut her off with a quick “no worries”. The girl, Tessa, smiled apologetically and left them alone.
As Cas checked the menus, Dean looked around. The place hadn’t changed much in the last four years. The walls were still pale purplish-red with the soft glow of yellow lights shining from the designer lamps mounted on the walls, giving it a soft romantic vibe. The bar in the corner with its huge mounted mirrors reflected the lights, making it look twice as large, but not less any cozy. The tables, most of them two-seaters, were situated a little bit apart from each other, to give the “second date” couples some sense of privacy. Each table had a single rose sticking out of a tall vase and fresh candle ready to be lit. For those who needed even more privacy, there were private booths on the upper floor.
“Isn’t anyone else going to join us?” Cas spoke up for the first time since they left the house. “I thought we were celebrating Jessica’s pregnancy announcement.”
Dean looked up to see a confused expression on his face. “Uh… no. It’s just us. They want to keep it a secret till the first trimester clears.”
Cas looked around at the other nicely dressed, obviously on-date couples, surrounding them. “Is this a date, Major?” he asked disbelievingly.
Dean looked at him, “no” riding on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the word. He looked away, suddenly shy. “Not exactly,” he finally replied. “This is more like a celebration-slash-get-to-know-you dinner.” He looked up to meet Cas’ eyes and was not at all surprised to find the man glowing in the soft candle light, a bashful smile on his face on his pretty face. “This is NOT a date,” he repeated slowly, staring at him.
“Whatever,” Cas replied, staring right back, but the smile and the glow remained.
Someone cleared their throat beside his right shoulder and Dean looked up to see Tessa, and her practiced smile, smiling back at them, evidently used to interrupting couples eye-fucking each other. “Are you ready to order?” she asked.
Dean looked back at Cas. Between staring at Cas and staring around the place, he hadn’t even glanced at the menu, but Cas apparently had, because he just nodded and replied, “I’ll have a Sangiovese. And you, Dean?” handing her the menus.
“Make that two,” Dean replied, as Tessa wrote their order in her pad and left them alone once again.
“So Cas…” Dean turned to his date, “Tell me about yourself.”
Cas tilted his head back and did his bird-on-a-wire expression. “I already told you about…”
“No, not that,” Dean interjected. “Not the heavy stuff. We have been living together for the past three days, and you know almost everything about me, including the colour of my underwear…” Cas turned scarlet at that. “… but all I know about you is that you are a world weary traveller with a tragic past, extraordinary cooking skills and extreme lack of personal boundaries. I need more than that, man.”
Cas bit his lower lip and nodded. “What do you want to know?”
Before Dean could reply, they were once again interrupted, this time by a waiter arriving with two wine glasses and bottle of Chianti. The next five minutes were spent tasting the wine, before Cas nodded his approval, and waiter poured the glasses before retreating.
“So, Major,” Cas picked up where they’d left off, “what do you want to know?”
Dean sat back and thought for a minute. He wanted to know everything about his date, the problem was where to begin. He came to a conclusion, nodded to himself and leaned forward, “The first time we met, you were singing Disney songs. Do you like Disney movies?”
“Is that going to be a dealbreaker?” Cas deadpanned.
Dean grinned, barely able to control his laughter. Of all the things… “No,” he replied with as straight a face as he could manage. “I just want to know if you are willing to sacrifice at least 3 hours a week in pursuit of one true love and a happy ending.”
“Are you seriously asking me to watch Disney movies with you?”
“Is that going to be a dealbreaker?” Dean countered, raising an eyebrow at him. This time Cas did laugh.
The conversation flowed easily after that. Cas liked Star Wars just fine, had never seen Star Trek and was obsessed with X-Men. He was also fond of old Julia Roberts movies but would never stoop to admitting that Notting Hill was his favourite. Dean, on the other, admitted that though Dee was the main reason he had started watching Disney movies, he genuinely loved Ratatouille and Mulan, because he more or less identified with the protagonists. When Cas asked him the million dollar question about Titanic, Dean tensed for a second then admitted that although he didn’t care for the movie, except for the scene with Winslet’s boobs, the final scene where she promises DiCaprio that she will never let go, reminded him of the last moments he had spent with Gabe. Cas squeezed his hand and changed the topic.
As far as music was concerned, Dean was surprised to learn that Cas had absolutely no preference whatsoever. “I prefer nice lyrics to noise,” he stated. The only thing that redeemed him in the eyes of Dean, was the fact that his favourite song was “Zeppelin’s Ramble On”, which also happened to be Dean’s favourite, along with “Stairway to Heaven” which Dean loved. He, also, had special affinity to “The Cab’s Angel with a Shotgun” because it was Nicky’s song for him. This time it was Dean who changed the topic.
When Tessa came back to take their dinner orders, Dean was more than content to sit back and let Cas order for both of them - Tomato Bruschetta, Chicken Cacciatore, Pasta bolognese - and Caprese Salad for the table. Dean had never heard of the last dish and when asked, Cas explained that it was basically a plateful tomato and cheese slices. And Dean admitted out loud that if he were a lesser man, he would have kidnapped Cas and hidden him away from the world. After their food arrived, they hadn’t felt the need to say anything, happily tucking into their food like they did every morning.
“Major,” Cas tapped on the table to get his attention after their plates were cleared away.
“What?” Dean looked up, composing himself from drifting off again. He took a sip of his water - he had stopped drinking after his second glass. Or rather Castiel had stopped him with, “You are driving me home. And I have no intention of ending the best night of my life in a hospital” - "Did you say something?” he asked.
“Yeah, I was wondering if we can skip the desert. I have a surprise for you at home,” Cas replied.
“What surprise?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now, would it?” Cas replied exasperatedly.
Dean nodded and called for the check.
-x-x-x-
“What surprise?” Dean asked again, once they were safely inside the house.
Ever since Cas had said “surprise”, Dean had been pestering him about it but Cas had remained tight-lipped and impassive. He, however, had insisted they stop at the market before rushing out and returning with a brown paper bag that he had been cradling like a newborn baby, absolutely refusing to let Dean peek inside. When Dean tried pulling it away from him, he just got slapped away, until he finally gave up.
Cas sighed. “Go to your room, freshen up and meet me here in 20 minutes,” he replied.
Dean sulked and refused to budge. “Not till you tell me what’s in there,” he said pointing to the suspicious brown bag that had started looking a bit soggy.
“No,” Cas replied. “And I won’t until you get changed.”
“Then I won’t get changed,” he pouted, thanking Dee for teaching him how to sulk like a true Winchester.
But maybe Cas had taken a lesson in how to stop a Winchester from sulking, because he kept the bag on the counter, away from Dean’s reach, before bending down and pressing their lips together. Dean sighed and opened his lips to let Cas into his mouth. Cas kissed him for a good couple of minutes, until they both were breathless, before pulling back and said, “Maybe I should make you can offer you can’t refuse.”
Dean laughed and turned, as Cas patted him on the shoulder, and wheeled towards his bedroom. He turned to see Cas had disappeared into his room, taking the package with him.
-x-x-x-
As he showered and changed into clean clothes for the night, he thought about how much influence Cas exerted on him in just three days. It amazed him, but it also scared him, because he had never felt this way before. He knew he shouldn’t depend so much on Cas, shouldn’t get so used to him, but the part of him that was falling for Cas, or maybe had already fallen for him, really didn’t care anymore.
Precisely 25 minutes later, Dean found himself face to face with that suspicious brown package again. He was sitting at their dining table, staring disdainfully at the soggy paper bag, as Cas, fresh from the shower, opened the fridge and brought out a neat cardboard box that Dean recognised as one of Roadhouse’s larger pie boxes.
“What’s that?” he asked, confused.
“I found this when we got home earlier,” Cas replied taking out the white pastry with pale pink letters scribbled on top. Dean stared in horror at the words “About Time Dumbass”, mentally scouting for places to dump Jo’s body without interruption.
“Cas… I… what the…” he sputtered but Cas held up his hand, cutting a very large piece of the pie and sliding it on the plate, and dunking it into the microwave and replacing the remaining pie back in the fridge. Then he opened the bag and took out a container of vanilla icecream. He removed the pie from the oven, dumped two large spoonfuls of semi-solid icecream on it, before keeping the rest away as well. He picked up the plate and couple of spoons and left the room, switching off the lights on his way out, beckoning Dean to follow him. He settled on the couch, then turned to Dean, “I thought I was promised a happy ending.”
Dean gaped at him, trying to sense of his words, until he remembered the earlier discussion about Disney movies. “What do you want to see?” he asked smiling as wide as his face would allow.
“I’ve heard Ratatouille is a good first date movie,” Cas replied smiling back.
Dean nodded, popped the DVD in the player and moved back to the couch. Cas moved to one side, so Dean could climb in beside him, then shamelessly snuggled into his side, placing the plate on their joint knees and inviting Dean to share the pie.
It was sometime when Linguini and Remy were coordinating their movements that the pie was finished, and by the time Remy confessed to his father that he was a chef, Cas had fallen asleep on the couch, his head on Dean’s lap and his feet hanging over the armrest, Dean’s fingers silently carding through his hair. Dean finished the rest of the movie, shut off the TV and settled back as comfortably as he could without disturbing his date and closed his eyes.
[ Part 5]