Dean's willing to do a lot for Lisa, but entertaining her friend Anna's fiancé? May just push him over the edge.
For one thing, he and Castiel have nothing in common, and for another he's a high maintenance tight ass with no sense of fun. Ok, so they've only met once, at his and Lisa's wedding they made three minutes of small talk during which Dean suffered unspeakably. Castiel was ok, just soft spoken, a little (very) dull and from an entirely different type of family.
Anyway, now he has to spend the entire evening with him. Something about Lisa and Anna doing wedding stuff. Which apparently Castiel's too much of a guy to help with (an idea which Dean finds hilarious – Castiel looks like he might moisturise.)
When they arrive it's Lisa who opens the door. Anna breezes in, looking pretty amazing even to Dean, one woman guy that he is. She's also a little bit intimidating, very pale and well dressed with her red hair perfect as always. She looks like an angel, if angel's shopped at Barney's.
Castiel follows her into the house, looking exactly like he did the last time Dean saw him, and possibly wearing the same suit. He looks like a slightly rumpled math teacher, or something equally dull. But he and Anna both have the same alarmingly white skin and deep, searching eyes, so Dean guesses she can see past the awful flasher coat.
Anna pecks Lisa on the cheek, hugging her close. Lisa waves briefly at Castiel before dragging her friend off to the conservatory (how the fuck they ended up with that he'll never know – he'd wanted a barbecue pit) leaving him and Castiel in the hall. The front door is still open, Castiel closes it neatly, then smile shyly at the wall a few inches from Dean's left ear.
"Hello Dean" Deep voiced, polite and utterly devoid of feeling.
Oh this was going to be fun.
"Castiel" Dean marshalled a smile and displayed it easily. If in doubt, fake it. "Me and Sam were in the back, you want a beer?"
God bless...God (and ineffective prophylactics), for Sam. Younger brothers provided not only the best friends and drinking buddies of the world, they also made great gooseberry's and buffers.
Castiel nodded in response and Dean led him through to the den (the small room over the double garage). It was pretty decent and held everything that had been in his apartment pre-Lisa, his battered TV, pool table, records, couch and mountains of trash fiction paperbacks. There were also a slew of car, music and porno magazines heaped under the coffee table, next to which Sam had sprawled his long legs.
"Sam. Castiel, Castiel, Sam." He hands Castiel a beer from the cooler by the couch and offers him a seat, dropping into his own sagging recliner. "Sam's my brother, he was the best man at mine and Lisa's wedding."
"Yes, you gave an excellent speech." Castiel holds the beer for a few seconds as if he has no idea what it's for. Sam widens his eyes at Dean. I see what you mean.
"So..." Dean begins gamely, tugging the beer gently from Castiel, twisting off the cap and handing it back in one smooth motion. "Big day soon, you sick of gardenias and salmon appetisers yet?"
Castiel actually seems to think about this.
"I believe myself to be quite fortunate, in that most of the preparations have been made by Anna and Lisa." He smiles genuinely. "Your wife has excellent taste."
"And I am a prime example of that" Dean smirks. "Though if she makes one more crack about the Impala I may be forced to burn a few throw pillows in protest."
Castiel just looks confused.
"It's a car." Sam points out, kindly. "Dean's weirdly devoted to it, gas guzzling steel eyesore though it is."
Dean inhales sharply.
Castiel sips his beer. Sam coughs.
"Didn't I mention the impala in my speech?" Sam cuts in suddenly, grasping at a thread of conversation. "Something about first wives...I thought it was clever..."
"Glad all that college money wasn't wasted on you." Dean kicks his legs out under the table, feet almost landing on Castiel's. "Just you wait, best man speech? Most uncomfortable ten minutes of your life."
"It's not something I think I'll experience." Castiel says, bluntly, which is how he says everything. "My brother Gabriel declined the position of best man, and he was the closest thing I had."
"Thought Anna said you came from a huge family?"
"Indeed. But my other brothers and I do not socialise, when it is avoidable."
Straying into choppy waters. Abort. Abort.
"So you still need a best man?" Sam pipes up. Dean can see where this is going. It's nowhere good.
"I think 'need' is a tad..." Castiel begins, just as Sam says, "Dean could do it!"
Satan. Little brothers are the work of Satan.
"I think Dean would be uncomfortable, we barely know each other." Castiel says it pleasantly enough, but there's something about the fact that he knows exactly how awkward he makes Dean feel that get to him. So, irrationally he says,
"No, it'll be cool. You should have a speech, anyway it gives me some practice for when Sam finally man's up and proposes to Jess."
Sam scowls. Serves the bitch right.
Castiel blinks, and then gives Dean such a brief, sunny smile that for a second he's convinced he imagined it.
"Thank you Dean. That would be...thank you." For someone as articulate as Castiel that was sort of the equivalent of a hug and breathless excitement.
He could handle this, there were worse guys to hang out with. It was only a speech, he'd spend a few more evenings with Castiel while Lisa and Anna planned away downstairs, and then he'd never see the guy again anyway.
So why was he suddenly feeling like he'd opened the biggest can of worms imaginable?
The second time Lisa and Anna get together to discuss the wedding, Dean takes Castiel for a drive.
"This, is my baby." He unveiled the impala with a flourish. The car had barely been used since the wedding, over a year ago. He got that Lisa found it weird to drive it now that they were a respectable couple and not twenty-something's going out to bars. But still...he missed it.
"It's nice" Castiel looked completely underwhelmed by it, but not offended by the sight of the massive black automobile. He seemed to catch Dean's disappointment. "I don't know a lot about cars, I apologise."
"That's cool, at least you don't think it's hideous." They seated themselves and Dean started the engine, Zeppelin blared suddenly. He dipped the volume. "Sorry about that, I can turn it off if you like."
"You're driving, it's your car. Hence your choice of music" Castiel insists gently.
Ok, so maybe Castiel wasn't such a dick after all – he'd actually had to explain that rule to Sam.
"What do you mean you've never done it?"
Yup, can open, worms everywhere.
I really shouldn't drink. Dean thought, as soon as the words were out of his mouth. But too late, damage done, and to be fair Castiel was pretty wasted himself. And he had just admitted that he and Anna had never had sex.
It was only the second time he and Castiel had been forced into each other's company for the evening, but they'd already established that Castiel rarely watched TV and sucked at pool. So drinking was pretty much the only option. They'd returned from the drive hours ago and set up camp in Dean's space over the garage. The bottle was nearing empty, and though Castiel could hold a surprising amount of liquor it was apparently taking effect. His tie, already loose, was now tugged further out of its knot and he was leaning heavily into the couch next to Dean, losing his usually rigid posture. He frowned, unfocused and only mildly irritated by Dean's disbelief.
"Our families are quite religious." He said, as if that explained everything.
Wait a minute...
"So...it's not just Anna...you've really never, you know...?"
"I've never had sex. No." And the look in his eyes, measuring Dean's reaction, mixed with embarrassment and challenging him to find this weird, should probably not be affecting him like it is.
"That explains a lot."
Why did he drink? This was almost worse than the time he kissed Sam...ok, nothing was worse than that, but this was happening right now, like a car crash, only more socially awkward.
Castiel cocks his head to one side like a slightly inebriated bird.
"You're just...a lot of the time you're kind of intense and...tense." he finishes, lamely.
"I hardly feel that's symptomatic of virginity."
No answer to that, so Dean makes it worse instead.
"So, you've never been tempted?"
Blood creeps into Castiel's face, flushing him slightly beneath that day's layer of scruff.
"Ah-ha! Knew it!" Triumphantly he downs another shot. "Who was it?"
"Not Anna, I mean" Castiel flushes more. "obviously I find her attractive..."
"Get to the good stuff Cas" Cas where the fuck did that come from?
"There was someone, in high school, that I found...intoxicating" on anyone else it would sound ridiculous, but the look in Castiel's suddenly dark eyes, the way his soft mouth forms the words...Dean believes that Castiel was intoxicated. He can remember how that feels, the heavy, heady, dark pull of arousal and want pooling in his belly.
God it's been a long time.
Not that he...Lisa...
Whisky fragments the guilty thought. Thank fuck.
"Anna said you went to...your high school was dudes only, right?"
Castiel's face twitches and Dean knows that he is the first person Castiel has told this to. That he hadn't meant to tell anyone, ever.
"Yes" he says, voice small and shamed and suddenly frighteningly sober.
"Cas..." Dean breathes, because this is big, huge. He has no idea how to deal with it, but suddenly he feels responsible. He's the one who brought Castiel up to the den and got him drunk.
"Don't tell anyone." Suddenly the thirty year old accountant looks like a teenager, face open and naive and afraid.
If it wasn't so heartbreaking it would be beautiful.
"But...doesn't that...change, anything?"
"I'm getting married." And the tone brooks no argument, it's final and heavy. And dead.
Castiel doesn't want to get married.
Castiel is gay.
And Dean has no idea what to do.
"Do you want to talk about it?" last refuge of the emotionally crippled. Castiel looks at him speculatively. "Well, clearly you haven't talked about this before...maybe it'd help. Hell, I'd want to tell someone if I was in love."
Words were still happening...why?
"It's been a long time." Castiel murmurs, eyes fixing on his glass with a frightening intensity. Finally he speaks, low and almost hesitant. "His name was Balthazar."
Oh God, they were really doing this.
"He was...we shared classes and I thought he was..." Castiel's eyes are far away, his throat works drily and Dean feels a pang of sympathy, Castiel had it bad. "Beautiful." He finishes, and again he makes the word mean so much more than anyone else. Dean believes him.
"Did anything happen?" Dean prods after a few seconds of loaded silence. Castiel shakes his head.
"I told my brother, Michael. I was confused; I had very little idea of what was happening to me." He frowns. "they sent me to bible camp, a year long, residential bible camp."
O.K...that sounded like deprogramming.
"That sounds like deprogramming." He blurts. Castiel seems surprised, but nods dumbly.
"That's why Gabriel won't come to the wedding. He thinks...well, he knows, that I shouldn't marry Anna."
"I love her."
"Dude, not enough. If you stop this now she can find someone..." he casts about for the right words, then gives up and uses the stupid ones that are always readily available. "Someone who likes girls."
Castiel winces, but looks no less resolute.
"One infatuation, over ten years ago, proves nothing." He avoids Dean's eyes.
"So that was it, since this guy, you haven't wanted to...be, with anyone? And you didn't get to do anything with him anyway?" Something about that seems wrong, or at least it does to Dean's brain.
"I've never had occasion." He says. Small, defeated and suddenly not the same guy Dean took for a drive. He's...human, and almost (almost) within his reach.
He moves his arm from the top of the couch, encircling Cas's narrow shoulders and pulling him into a kiss. Their mouths meet and he sucks Castiel's bottom lip gently, kissing him for a few seconds longer than he thinks is a good idea.
He pulls back, all the alcohol in the world cannot make this right. His first rational thought in the last hour - He's just stolen Castiel's first kiss.
"Sorry...God, Shit!, sorry." He blurts, regretting the blasphemy the instant he lets it slip. Castiel looks at him like he's trying to work out if he liked the taste, or something equally ponderous.
Then he kisses him back. Closing the space between them with a quick movement and touching their lips together tentatively. Reflexively, Dean tugs him a little closer and slips into making-out-mode. The sound Castiel makes is somehow both pained and hungry, exactly matching the way he kisses.
Alcohol and a lifetime of frustration'll do that.
Dean meshes a hand in his hair, the other resting on his hip. Their tongues brush as he urges Castiel into his lap, feeling a growing hardness against his stomach. It's foreign and completely alienating and too much. He can't think or reason that he is married, that Castiel is engaged and damaged and fragile. He just wants, needs, this to...
Castiel thrusts against him, whimpering.
Dean is lost.
"Fuck...Cas..." he mutters in the space between frantic kisses.
Castiel mewls, honestly mewls in responce, pressing them impossibly closer.
The hand on Castiel's hip traces around to the front of his dress pants, finding the thin fabric taught. He rubs against Cas's arousal, and each new mewl and groan feeds something in him, something that's ravenous for this.
Cas thrusts shallowly against his hand, abandoning Dean's mouth and resting their foreheads together. The space between them is filled with heated breath and brief, aching sounds. Castiel's hand cups Dean's face, whisky blurred eyes just visible in the dark haze of his features, so close. Dean pauses for a second, wriggling his hand inside Castiel's slacks and underwear.
The groan he elicits is one of relief and frustration. He might as well have been hard since high school, practically has been, no release except himself for his entire life. The hot flesh strains into his palm.
"Dean...please, just...God..." is all he gets out.
"I know." He soothes, dragging him down into another kiss. Cas's teeth catch his lip, nipping harder than Lisa usually...
Castiel comes suddenly.
"Dean...I..." Begging and praising as hot pulses cover his fist.
The enormity of this hit's them at the same time. Mainly because Anna calls from the base of the stairs.
"Cas? Baby, you up there?"
Castiel jerks out of Dean's arms as though scalded.
His hair is a mess, his shirt wrinkled, he's flushed, sweating and his fly is still open. Thankfully most of the mess is on Dean, but he still looks...
He smoothes himself as best he can, not looking at Dean at all. Then bolts for the stairs, still shaking.
Dean is left with a fistful of come and a raging erection, wondering why the hell his life had gotten so complicated.