[SPN] Crossroads State 2/12
Mar. 12th, 2012 06:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Epilogue
Castiel doesn't see Dean the rest of the week and doesn't try to. If he's honest with himself, he's trying not to. He runs at the same time he would if he had to be at school, the same routine. He spends long hours in libraries and is at home very little.
He even accepts a professor's request for a research consultation half a day's drive away in Chicago. The man's name is Balthazar and they've cited each other's work before, never in agreement, met in passing at conferences. He was the author of the article that Castiel wrote the letter about and has surely seen it by now. He is sarcastic and charming and is very blunt that the dinner invitation he makes for that evening is not for professional reasons.
Castiel is equally blunt: "I'm not in the habit of having one-night stands."
"I asked you for dinner, not a shag in the broom cupboard."
Castiel accepts. Balthazar likes to make him laugh and make him blush and he has a good time. It isn't until Balthazar's driving him back to his hotel and swats violently at the radio when Celine Dion comes on and the next station is playing the end of 'Black Dog' that Castiel realizes he hasn't thought about Dean the entire evening.
He doesn't think about Dean either when Balthazar kisses him goodnight, but it's more of an effort. Instead he thinks that it's nice to be kissed, nice to be wanted. He thinks that he likes Balthazar and could like him more. When Balthazar asks if he'll come back next weekend, Castiel says yes.
*
He sees Dean next on Monday evening, just after dark, when Castiel has finally conceded that he can no longer avoid the chore of mowing his lawn. He doesn't enjoy it, but he can't see the sense in paying someone else to do what he can do himself. Dean's standing at the end of the walk holding a six-pack of beer and Castiel is happier to see him than he thought he would be. He's missed Dean, he realizes, in a way that's more than the vague longing that sits in his chest even when Dean is around.
"Peace offering?" Dean says, holding the beer up when Castiel cuts off the mower.
"I was unaware we were at war."
Dean's laugh is sheepish. "I kinda thought you might be pissed at me for the whole breaking and entering thing. 20/20 hindsight it was a little creepy of me."
"Not at all, Dean. It was very kind. I apologize that I haven't thanked you properly."
"No need, man. I'm just glad you're not mad." They sit down on the steps together and Dean opens two bottles and hands him one. "When I didn't see you around at all I thought you might be."
Hurt, confused, yes, because of the woman, but Dean's done nothing wrong. If anything, Castiel has. "I'm sorry if I gave that impression. I've been quite busy this week. It's... it's good to see you."
"Yeah." Dean grins. "I've been busting my ass too. I kept dragging my feet on getting a room ready for Sammy and he's going to be here on Friday so I've been all apeshit Martha Stewart."
"That sounds unpleasant."
"Eh. It sucks in a way, especially the part where I had to go shopping for curtains, and I probably didn't need to refinish the floor, but I want it to be nice for him, you know? We moved around a lot when we were kids and there wasn't much curtain shopping. Or curtains period a lot of the time."
Castiel can see the meaning between the lines: Dean wants to give his brother somewhere that's home. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it," he says instead of asking questions about why they never had a permanent one.
"Hope so. Hey, you eat yet?"
"No, I was going to finish this first." He gestures at the lawn with vague distaste.
"I could go get a pizza or something while you finish up, if you want."
"That would be very nice."
"Cool." Dean slaps him lightly on the shoulder and stands up. "I'll even get a couple of vegetables on it."
Dean returns just as Castiel's finished putting the mower away, and they eat the pizza sitting on the porch. They don't talk about anything important; Dean shares stories from his work, strange customers and the overexcited part-time receptionist who is obsessed with some television show Castiel's never heard of.
"It's about these two brothers who hunt demons and ghosts and stuff, and there's this guy who's some kind of angel and she can't shut up about how there's this epic big gay love between the angel and one of the brothers. It's disturbing."
"You're disturbed by... gay love?"
Castiel isn't sure he wants to know the answer but Dean is quick to make himself clear. "No, no, not like that. It's disturbing how into it she is. It's not just that show, it's like the whole world. She thinks Doctor Sexy is banging the hospital's lawyer and Kirk and Spock are totally doing it and don't even get me started on the weird shit she thinks about Harry Potter."
"I'm unfamiliar with the rest of the material, but it would be easy argument that Kirk and Spock have a romantic friendship."
"A who-what now?"
"As far back as history goes, there have been instances of men who loved each other a great deal, with or without a sexual element. Jonathan and David, for example, or Achilles and Patroclus. Before homosexuality became taboo these relationships were declared openly, even celebrated."
"Huh. So... bromance."
Castiel knows the term thanks to his students. "Perhaps an oversimplification, but accurate enough."
"Sometimes I forget you're a frickin' genius with a million degrees." Dean laughs and knocks his shoulder against Castiel's.
"My IQ is not genius level, and I only have--"
"Shut up and take the compliment, Captain Literal."
Before Dean leaves, he invites Castiel to a barbecue at his house to welcome Sam. Castiel nearly accepts but remembers he's already promised to see Balthazar the same day, and feels guilt on both accounts, especially when he doesn't explain who he's seeing and why, only that he went this weekend for a research consultation and will be going again the next. Not a lie, but not the truth.
Dean is disappointed, but doesn't appear to be overly so. "Well, he'll be here all summer. He actually is a genius. You'll like him. Probably epic nerd bromance material," Dean says with a wink.
He feels happy after he's said goodnight to Dean. He feels happy too when he sees his cell phone blinking a message and there's a text from Balthazar. He turns the 'bromance' discussion over in his mind and thinks that maybe he doesn't have to feel guilty for being happy at both.
*
Castiel sees Dean every morning or evening for the rest of the week, sometimes both. Things get added to his grocery list that he doesn't usually buy: coffee, bacon, sausage. Dean cooks in Castiel's kitchen and knows where everything is kept. Castiel brings vegetables from Michael's garden and introduces Dean to ratatouille.
He talks to Balthazar several times, at first under the thinly veiled excuse of Balthazar checking a reference but without excuses every time after. They talk about a lot of things, some that Castiel doesn't talk about to most people, about his father because of course Balthazar knows his work and that they're related. He learns that knows Balthazar's father's work too, but wouldn't have known they're related because Balthazar changed his surname after he left England. Their histories are strangely similar, except that Castiel was searching for approval when Balthazar wanted as much distance as possible, to make his own way and not ride the coattails of a great Cambridge scholar. That's not all they talk about; there's Balthazar and the obscure British comedies he likes, Castiel and his attempts at learning to cook well. Once they speak of the time they kissed and Balthazar's voice fills him with heat when he admits he would have 'rather liked to have that shag in the broom cupboard.'
"Don't get a hotel," Balthazar says late Thursday night. Castiel agrees.
Dean is buzzing with excitement about Sam's arrival Friday morning. He runs so hard that Castiel and even Bones have to struggle to keep up. He's sweat-drenched and smiling over his coffee and Castiel thinks he's beautiful.
"Have fun in Chicago," Dean says as Castiel's leaving.
"Have fun with Sam."
They look at each other for a moment, a strange tense impasse, and then Dean steps forward and hugs him. It's brief, a bit awkward in that it ends with Dean slapping him hard on the back as if to make up for doing it and walking out of the room with a gruff, "See you later," leaving Castiel to make his own way to the front door, but it's good.
*
Balthazar's home is much like his office, every surface available filled with things. Some is the accumulation of work, papers and books piled on tables in ordered chaos, but most is just a large volume of possessions, collections. There are large collections of DVDs and records; Balthazar likes Film Noir and Hitchcock, Iggy Pop and Suzi Quatro. He is indifferent to Led Zeppelin but owns all of their albums. Spaces on the shelves in front of the books hold old cameras. Most of them don't work, he says, and he's always meaning to fix them, but he slings his arm around Castiel's shoulders and points one at them and presents him with a blurry Polaroid that Balthazar laughs at and declares 'bloody awful.' He has several guitars and an antique revolver and a dozen pairs of cowboy boots. There's a full bar in the living room and all but a few bottles are covered in dust. There's a hat Cary Grant wore in North By Northwest that sits on top of a suit of armor.
"Do you ever wear it?" Castiel asks.
"The armor? No, chafes like a bastard."
"The hat."
Balthazar puts it on and kisses him. He wears it to dinner, which is at an Ethiopian restaurant where they sit on the floor and use bread instead of silverware. They see a silent film with a live piano player and go to a bar that serves 'artisan' cocktails.
The bartender knows Balthazar and greets him with, "Hey, Dr. T! Nice hat!"
"Thank you, Luc. I stole it from Cary Grant."
"Cool. Who's your friend?"
"Off-limits, devil child, so stop leering. Cas, this is Luc, my brilliant protégé and bane of my existence. Horrible brat, this is Dr. Milton. Yes, as in the. Now go make us two of those bacon-chocolate bourbon things with the ridiculous ice cubes."
Though Castiel isn't entirely sure whether he's supposed to be amused or not, he can't help but be.
"Rather ruins the romance, doesn't he?" Balthazar says with a smirk.
"You seem to like him."
"Oh, he's my favorite student and he knows it. I should have lied and said your name was John Smith. Now I've introduced him to his idol, he'll be insufferable for weeks."
Castiel blinks. "Idol?"
"You know, it's bloody adorable the way you tilt your head to one side when you're trying to work something out. But at the risk of overinflating your ego, yes, to him you're James Dean and Einstein all in one package. Doesn't agree with a damn thing you've ever said, of course, but he does love how you say it and he wants to be just like you when he grows up. Should thank him, really, since he was the one who suggested you for that consult last week."
"I'm not sure I understand." Castiel catches his head tilting to one side and stops it, and Balthazar laughs. "I've made myself virtually unemployable."
"What can I say, boy loves a fuck-you attitude."
"I never set out to... fuck anyone. They were simply wrong."
"Precisely. It's all well and good to stand on the shoulders of giants, but once in a while they need a good boot to the knackers. Also," and Balthazar leans in close to his ear, "don't use the word 'fuck' again or I'll do something that shouldn't be done in public."
They don't stay for a second drink.
*
"Don't answer it," Balthazar mumbles into Castiel's shoulder, and tries to keep him from reaching for his ringing phone.
Castiel is tempted not to, but Gabriel's name is on the screen. "It's my brother. There might be something wrong."
"Fine, fine. Spoilsport."
"Gabriel?"
"Oops, did I wake you, Cassie?"
"Yes, you did. Is anything wrong?"
"My lack of anyone to eat pancakes with is very wrong. Anna's gone off on some hippie cleansing retreat and I'm all alone."
"I told you I was going to Chicago."
"In my blind grief I completely forgot."
"Dire emergency?" Balthazar whispers. Castiel shakes his head. "Then get off the bloody phone."
Apparently Balthazar didn't speak quietly enough. "Oh my god, are you in bed with someone?" Gabriel's voice is deafening.
"Yes," Castiel sighs.
"You dog! Who is he? I know you can hear me, mystery Chicago lover, so be good to my baby brother or they'll never find your body!"
"I'll speak to you later, Gabriel," Castiel says, and hangs up the phone.
"Charming man," Balthazar says with a laugh. "At least that saves us from the awkward closet-or-not discussion. Now can I trouble you for a bit of a grope before I make you breakfast?"
*
Castiel means to stay one night, but he doesn't leave until Monday morning. He barely has the energy to drive. Every time they left Balthazar's house, every next thing he had planned was engineered to be more impressive than the last. It was more activity than he was used to, and by Sunday he found himself hoping they would stay in, but didn't mention it when they didn't. He did finally manage to say that he hoped Balthazar wouldn't expect anything like blind dining or guerrilla cinema when he came to visit Castiel and the 'darling, I'll be perfectly happy to darn your socks while you correct my Ugaritic translations in between fielding death threats from your siblings' seemed like a promising response.
Balthazar won't be coming for two weeks, and at the moment, Castiel thinks he might like to spend both of them asleep. He only makes it as far as the sofa, where he stays asleep until it's dark out and he wakes up starving to his phone ringing as well as someone at the door. The door is Dean; the phone is Balthazar. He can't process which to deal with first and falls off the sofa, which Dean can see from outside, apparently, because Castiel can hear him laughing.
All he can really do is let Dean in as he answers the phone and motion for him to wait.
"I don't think it's all that hilarious that I'm ringing you," Balthazar says.
"It isn't. I had to answer the door and the phone at the same time and I fell off the sofa, and now Dean is laughing at me."
"How many bloody siblings have you got? Is he going to threaten to murder me as well?"
"Dean isn't my brother, he's my friend."
"I won't keep you if you've got company, then. Only wanted to check you hadn't fallen in a ditch or died of longing."
"No, I fell asleep. I'll call you later."
"I'll likely be out, but feel free to leave me a filthy message." Balthazar makes a loud kissing noise before he hangs up.
Castiel knows his face is still red when he joins Dean in the kitchen, but it can't be helped.
"I would say sorry for waking you up, but I guess there's reasonable doubt whether it was me, the phone, or the floor."
"I was already awake when I fell."
"Sorry, I shouldn't laugh. So I guess Chicago was fun if you're having to sleep it off."
"Yes, I had a good time, but it was tiring. Is Sam settling in well?"
Dean snorts. "Little bitch has himself a date tonight. Already. I'm supposed to be the hot Winchester."
"As I've never seen your brother I couldn't make a judgement."
"I mean, I think he looks like a human moose-sasquatch hybrid, but he's my little brother. He's welcome to her, though. Even if she was my type, barely-legal's a little young for me." As Dean's been talking, he's been rummaging through the refrigerator, inspecting packages, frowning at them, and putting them back. "Dude, you have bacon, yogurt, and radishes, and that's it."
"I didn't go shopping before I left. Would you like to order something?"
"There's still a shitload of party food at my house if you don't mind a walk. I can grill you pretty much anything in existence."
"I don't mind. I should go and change, though."
Dean shrugs. "You look fine. Nobody but me's going to see you. I'll be surprised if Sammy even comes home tonight. Though he's a giant girl and might not even kiss till the third date, so who knows. But, uh, since when do you like the Dead Kennedys?"
Castiel looks down at the t-shirt he's wearing, which is old and faded and belongs to Balthazar. It occurs to him that he's going to have to tell Dean about Balthazar, which is an awkward prospect for several reasons. "This isn't mine. I stayed in Chicago longer than I expected to."
Dean raises an eyebrow and doesn't comment, but Castiel thinks he's probably inferred the truth. He finally smiles and says, "C'mon, it's gonna take the grill a few minutes to heat up."
There have been a few changes in Dean's house over the weekend. The mantelpiece in the living room now holds framed photographs, as do some of the walls, and the last stacks of boxes are gone.
"Sam finished my unpacking," Dean says. "This is him." He taps the glass on a photo of himself and Sam on either side of an older bearded man. "He's a little better looking in person, but not much."
"Is that your father?" He's not sure he should ask, because Dean never mentions his father, and he knows he's right when he sees Dean's jaw tighten.
"Nah, that's Bobby. Guy I took over the garage from. Family, but not by blood. C'mon, meat won't cook itself."
Castiel lingers behind him for a moment when a sun-faded wedding portrait catches his eye, of a pretty blonde woman and a dark-haired man, smiling at each other and, Castiel thinks, possibly trying not to laugh. He knows how much can change between one day of joy and promise and a life. And he can't help wondering, but he won't ask.
Next: Part 3
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Epilogue
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Epilogue
Castiel doesn't see Dean the rest of the week and doesn't try to. If he's honest with himself, he's trying not to. He runs at the same time he would if he had to be at school, the same routine. He spends long hours in libraries and is at home very little.
He even accepts a professor's request for a research consultation half a day's drive away in Chicago. The man's name is Balthazar and they've cited each other's work before, never in agreement, met in passing at conferences. He was the author of the article that Castiel wrote the letter about and has surely seen it by now. He is sarcastic and charming and is very blunt that the dinner invitation he makes for that evening is not for professional reasons.
Castiel is equally blunt: "I'm not in the habit of having one-night stands."
"I asked you for dinner, not a shag in the broom cupboard."
Castiel accepts. Balthazar likes to make him laugh and make him blush and he has a good time. It isn't until Balthazar's driving him back to his hotel and swats violently at the radio when Celine Dion comes on and the next station is playing the end of 'Black Dog' that Castiel realizes he hasn't thought about Dean the entire evening.
He doesn't think about Dean either when Balthazar kisses him goodnight, but it's more of an effort. Instead he thinks that it's nice to be kissed, nice to be wanted. He thinks that he likes Balthazar and could like him more. When Balthazar asks if he'll come back next weekend, Castiel says yes.
*
He sees Dean next on Monday evening, just after dark, when Castiel has finally conceded that he can no longer avoid the chore of mowing his lawn. He doesn't enjoy it, but he can't see the sense in paying someone else to do what he can do himself. Dean's standing at the end of the walk holding a six-pack of beer and Castiel is happier to see him than he thought he would be. He's missed Dean, he realizes, in a way that's more than the vague longing that sits in his chest even when Dean is around.
"Peace offering?" Dean says, holding the beer up when Castiel cuts off the mower.
"I was unaware we were at war."
Dean's laugh is sheepish. "I kinda thought you might be pissed at me for the whole breaking and entering thing. 20/20 hindsight it was a little creepy of me."
"Not at all, Dean. It was very kind. I apologize that I haven't thanked you properly."
"No need, man. I'm just glad you're not mad." They sit down on the steps together and Dean opens two bottles and hands him one. "When I didn't see you around at all I thought you might be."
Hurt, confused, yes, because of the woman, but Dean's done nothing wrong. If anything, Castiel has. "I'm sorry if I gave that impression. I've been quite busy this week. It's... it's good to see you."
"Yeah." Dean grins. "I've been busting my ass too. I kept dragging my feet on getting a room ready for Sammy and he's going to be here on Friday so I've been all apeshit Martha Stewart."
"That sounds unpleasant."
"Eh. It sucks in a way, especially the part where I had to go shopping for curtains, and I probably didn't need to refinish the floor, but I want it to be nice for him, you know? We moved around a lot when we were kids and there wasn't much curtain shopping. Or curtains period a lot of the time."
Castiel can see the meaning between the lines: Dean wants to give his brother somewhere that's home. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it," he says instead of asking questions about why they never had a permanent one.
"Hope so. Hey, you eat yet?"
"No, I was going to finish this first." He gestures at the lawn with vague distaste.
"I could go get a pizza or something while you finish up, if you want."
"That would be very nice."
"Cool." Dean slaps him lightly on the shoulder and stands up. "I'll even get a couple of vegetables on it."
Dean returns just as Castiel's finished putting the mower away, and they eat the pizza sitting on the porch. They don't talk about anything important; Dean shares stories from his work, strange customers and the overexcited part-time receptionist who is obsessed with some television show Castiel's never heard of.
"It's about these two brothers who hunt demons and ghosts and stuff, and there's this guy who's some kind of angel and she can't shut up about how there's this epic big gay love between the angel and one of the brothers. It's disturbing."
"You're disturbed by... gay love?"
Castiel isn't sure he wants to know the answer but Dean is quick to make himself clear. "No, no, not like that. It's disturbing how into it she is. It's not just that show, it's like the whole world. She thinks Doctor Sexy is banging the hospital's lawyer and Kirk and Spock are totally doing it and don't even get me started on the weird shit she thinks about Harry Potter."
"I'm unfamiliar with the rest of the material, but it would be easy argument that Kirk and Spock have a romantic friendship."
"A who-what now?"
"As far back as history goes, there have been instances of men who loved each other a great deal, with or without a sexual element. Jonathan and David, for example, or Achilles and Patroclus. Before homosexuality became taboo these relationships were declared openly, even celebrated."
"Huh. So... bromance."
Castiel knows the term thanks to his students. "Perhaps an oversimplification, but accurate enough."
"Sometimes I forget you're a frickin' genius with a million degrees." Dean laughs and knocks his shoulder against Castiel's.
"My IQ is not genius level, and I only have--"
"Shut up and take the compliment, Captain Literal."
Before Dean leaves, he invites Castiel to a barbecue at his house to welcome Sam. Castiel nearly accepts but remembers he's already promised to see Balthazar the same day, and feels guilt on both accounts, especially when he doesn't explain who he's seeing and why, only that he went this weekend for a research consultation and will be going again the next. Not a lie, but not the truth.
Dean is disappointed, but doesn't appear to be overly so. "Well, he'll be here all summer. He actually is a genius. You'll like him. Probably epic nerd bromance material," Dean says with a wink.
He feels happy after he's said goodnight to Dean. He feels happy too when he sees his cell phone blinking a message and there's a text from Balthazar. He turns the 'bromance' discussion over in his mind and thinks that maybe he doesn't have to feel guilty for being happy at both.
*
Castiel sees Dean every morning or evening for the rest of the week, sometimes both. Things get added to his grocery list that he doesn't usually buy: coffee, bacon, sausage. Dean cooks in Castiel's kitchen and knows where everything is kept. Castiel brings vegetables from Michael's garden and introduces Dean to ratatouille.
He talks to Balthazar several times, at first under the thinly veiled excuse of Balthazar checking a reference but without excuses every time after. They talk about a lot of things, some that Castiel doesn't talk about to most people, about his father because of course Balthazar knows his work and that they're related. He learns that knows Balthazar's father's work too, but wouldn't have known they're related because Balthazar changed his surname after he left England. Their histories are strangely similar, except that Castiel was searching for approval when Balthazar wanted as much distance as possible, to make his own way and not ride the coattails of a great Cambridge scholar. That's not all they talk about; there's Balthazar and the obscure British comedies he likes, Castiel and his attempts at learning to cook well. Once they speak of the time they kissed and Balthazar's voice fills him with heat when he admits he would have 'rather liked to have that shag in the broom cupboard.'
"Don't get a hotel," Balthazar says late Thursday night. Castiel agrees.
Dean is buzzing with excitement about Sam's arrival Friday morning. He runs so hard that Castiel and even Bones have to struggle to keep up. He's sweat-drenched and smiling over his coffee and Castiel thinks he's beautiful.
"Have fun in Chicago," Dean says as Castiel's leaving.
"Have fun with Sam."
They look at each other for a moment, a strange tense impasse, and then Dean steps forward and hugs him. It's brief, a bit awkward in that it ends with Dean slapping him hard on the back as if to make up for doing it and walking out of the room with a gruff, "See you later," leaving Castiel to make his own way to the front door, but it's good.
*
Balthazar's home is much like his office, every surface available filled with things. Some is the accumulation of work, papers and books piled on tables in ordered chaos, but most is just a large volume of possessions, collections. There are large collections of DVDs and records; Balthazar likes Film Noir and Hitchcock, Iggy Pop and Suzi Quatro. He is indifferent to Led Zeppelin but owns all of their albums. Spaces on the shelves in front of the books hold old cameras. Most of them don't work, he says, and he's always meaning to fix them, but he slings his arm around Castiel's shoulders and points one at them and presents him with a blurry Polaroid that Balthazar laughs at and declares 'bloody awful.' He has several guitars and an antique revolver and a dozen pairs of cowboy boots. There's a full bar in the living room and all but a few bottles are covered in dust. There's a hat Cary Grant wore in North By Northwest that sits on top of a suit of armor.
"Do you ever wear it?" Castiel asks.
"The armor? No, chafes like a bastard."
"The hat."
Balthazar puts it on and kisses him. He wears it to dinner, which is at an Ethiopian restaurant where they sit on the floor and use bread instead of silverware. They see a silent film with a live piano player and go to a bar that serves 'artisan' cocktails.
The bartender knows Balthazar and greets him with, "Hey, Dr. T! Nice hat!"
"Thank you, Luc. I stole it from Cary Grant."
"Cool. Who's your friend?"
"Off-limits, devil child, so stop leering. Cas, this is Luc, my brilliant protégé and bane of my existence. Horrible brat, this is Dr. Milton. Yes, as in the. Now go make us two of those bacon-chocolate bourbon things with the ridiculous ice cubes."
Though Castiel isn't entirely sure whether he's supposed to be amused or not, he can't help but be.
"Rather ruins the romance, doesn't he?" Balthazar says with a smirk.
"You seem to like him."
"Oh, he's my favorite student and he knows it. I should have lied and said your name was John Smith. Now I've introduced him to his idol, he'll be insufferable for weeks."
Castiel blinks. "Idol?"
"You know, it's bloody adorable the way you tilt your head to one side when you're trying to work something out. But at the risk of overinflating your ego, yes, to him you're James Dean and Einstein all in one package. Doesn't agree with a damn thing you've ever said, of course, but he does love how you say it and he wants to be just like you when he grows up. Should thank him, really, since he was the one who suggested you for that consult last week."
"I'm not sure I understand." Castiel catches his head tilting to one side and stops it, and Balthazar laughs. "I've made myself virtually unemployable."
"What can I say, boy loves a fuck-you attitude."
"I never set out to... fuck anyone. They were simply wrong."
"Precisely. It's all well and good to stand on the shoulders of giants, but once in a while they need a good boot to the knackers. Also," and Balthazar leans in close to his ear, "don't use the word 'fuck' again or I'll do something that shouldn't be done in public."
They don't stay for a second drink.
*
"Don't answer it," Balthazar mumbles into Castiel's shoulder, and tries to keep him from reaching for his ringing phone.
Castiel is tempted not to, but Gabriel's name is on the screen. "It's my brother. There might be something wrong."
"Fine, fine. Spoilsport."
"Gabriel?"
"Oops, did I wake you, Cassie?"
"Yes, you did. Is anything wrong?"
"My lack of anyone to eat pancakes with is very wrong. Anna's gone off on some hippie cleansing retreat and I'm all alone."
"I told you I was going to Chicago."
"In my blind grief I completely forgot."
"Dire emergency?" Balthazar whispers. Castiel shakes his head. "Then get off the bloody phone."
Apparently Balthazar didn't speak quietly enough. "Oh my god, are you in bed with someone?" Gabriel's voice is deafening.
"Yes," Castiel sighs.
"You dog! Who is he? I know you can hear me, mystery Chicago lover, so be good to my baby brother or they'll never find your body!"
"I'll speak to you later, Gabriel," Castiel says, and hangs up the phone.
"Charming man," Balthazar says with a laugh. "At least that saves us from the awkward closet-or-not discussion. Now can I trouble you for a bit of a grope before I make you breakfast?"
*
Castiel means to stay one night, but he doesn't leave until Monday morning. He barely has the energy to drive. Every time they left Balthazar's house, every next thing he had planned was engineered to be more impressive than the last. It was more activity than he was used to, and by Sunday he found himself hoping they would stay in, but didn't mention it when they didn't. He did finally manage to say that he hoped Balthazar wouldn't expect anything like blind dining or guerrilla cinema when he came to visit Castiel and the 'darling, I'll be perfectly happy to darn your socks while you correct my Ugaritic translations in between fielding death threats from your siblings' seemed like a promising response.
Balthazar won't be coming for two weeks, and at the moment, Castiel thinks he might like to spend both of them asleep. He only makes it as far as the sofa, where he stays asleep until it's dark out and he wakes up starving to his phone ringing as well as someone at the door. The door is Dean; the phone is Balthazar. He can't process which to deal with first and falls off the sofa, which Dean can see from outside, apparently, because Castiel can hear him laughing.
All he can really do is let Dean in as he answers the phone and motion for him to wait.
"I don't think it's all that hilarious that I'm ringing you," Balthazar says.
"It isn't. I had to answer the door and the phone at the same time and I fell off the sofa, and now Dean is laughing at me."
"How many bloody siblings have you got? Is he going to threaten to murder me as well?"
"Dean isn't my brother, he's my friend."
"I won't keep you if you've got company, then. Only wanted to check you hadn't fallen in a ditch or died of longing."
"No, I fell asleep. I'll call you later."
"I'll likely be out, but feel free to leave me a filthy message." Balthazar makes a loud kissing noise before he hangs up.
Castiel knows his face is still red when he joins Dean in the kitchen, but it can't be helped.
"I would say sorry for waking you up, but I guess there's reasonable doubt whether it was me, the phone, or the floor."
"I was already awake when I fell."
"Sorry, I shouldn't laugh. So I guess Chicago was fun if you're having to sleep it off."
"Yes, I had a good time, but it was tiring. Is Sam settling in well?"
Dean snorts. "Little bitch has himself a date tonight. Already. I'm supposed to be the hot Winchester."
"As I've never seen your brother I couldn't make a judgement."
"I mean, I think he looks like a human moose-sasquatch hybrid, but he's my little brother. He's welcome to her, though. Even if she was my type, barely-legal's a little young for me." As Dean's been talking, he's been rummaging through the refrigerator, inspecting packages, frowning at them, and putting them back. "Dude, you have bacon, yogurt, and radishes, and that's it."
"I didn't go shopping before I left. Would you like to order something?"
"There's still a shitload of party food at my house if you don't mind a walk. I can grill you pretty much anything in existence."
"I don't mind. I should go and change, though."
Dean shrugs. "You look fine. Nobody but me's going to see you. I'll be surprised if Sammy even comes home tonight. Though he's a giant girl and might not even kiss till the third date, so who knows. But, uh, since when do you like the Dead Kennedys?"
Castiel looks down at the t-shirt he's wearing, which is old and faded and belongs to Balthazar. It occurs to him that he's going to have to tell Dean about Balthazar, which is an awkward prospect for several reasons. "This isn't mine. I stayed in Chicago longer than I expected to."
Dean raises an eyebrow and doesn't comment, but Castiel thinks he's probably inferred the truth. He finally smiles and says, "C'mon, it's gonna take the grill a few minutes to heat up."
There have been a few changes in Dean's house over the weekend. The mantelpiece in the living room now holds framed photographs, as do some of the walls, and the last stacks of boxes are gone.
"Sam finished my unpacking," Dean says. "This is him." He taps the glass on a photo of himself and Sam on either side of an older bearded man. "He's a little better looking in person, but not much."
"Is that your father?" He's not sure he should ask, because Dean never mentions his father, and he knows he's right when he sees Dean's jaw tighten.
"Nah, that's Bobby. Guy I took over the garage from. Family, but not by blood. C'mon, meat won't cook itself."
Castiel lingers behind him for a moment when a sun-faded wedding portrait catches his eye, of a pretty blonde woman and a dark-haired man, smiling at each other and, Castiel thinks, possibly trying not to laugh. He knows how much can change between one day of joy and promise and a life. And he can't help wondering, but he won't ask.
Next: Part 3
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Epilogue
