Chapter Six

Dean didn't have the energy to get a full bender going when he got home the next night. The quiet of the house mocked him without mercy though, so to shut it up he did buy a bunch of songs to drink to. He went with East of the Sun, the John Lee Hooker, and a few others he thought would remind him of Castiel.

He drank his dinner. Cas had leftovers in the fridge that were probably delicious and healthy and would make the house smell like his cooking, but Dean wasn't ready for that yet. If it smelled like cooking it would smell like home and if that happened Dean knew he'd have to pack a bag and hit up a hotel 'cause he didn't have one of those. Instead, he drank staring out into his yard and when all the songs had played a few times over he turned them off and moved to the living room. He watched a marathon of Doctor Sexy from his DVR and ordered a pizza. He tried to remind himself this was the life but tonight he wasn't buying it.

The only thing keeping him from all the drunken anger he'd thought this night would have involved was Castiel's promise to return when they weren't being watched so much. If Dean let him. He pictured Cas coming back, Dean throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him over the threshold (through the front door this time, thank you very much). It would be a joke, but it also wouldn't be. Looking back on the night before, the night he finally took Castiel back to his bedroom, Dean marveled that with the two or three unaffected synapses still firing in his brain at the time he'd remembered that carrying someone over a threshold was supposed to mean something. He hadn't planned it, but Cas brought out the romantic side he'd long since tried to bury alive under the floorboards.

(Of course that whole moment had only been because Cas had his legs wrapped around Dean's waist at the time, but whatever. It still counted.)

He wanted to text Cas but was pretty sure that would break whatever rules guided this cooling-off period, especially considering what he wanted to text. Instead he sent some annoying texts to Sam. When Sam asked why he wasn't busy with Cas that night Dean tried to describe what was going on via text. While buzzed. Hell, sober and using a full keyboard he wasn't sure he could do it justice.

Fourteen minutes later Sam was at his door with two six packs of O'Doul's and a shopping bag with both apple and pumpkin pie.

"Dude, it's alright," Dean tried to explain. "It's just a cooling off period. Unless he gets a job or finds someone else or something." All those addendums were going to keep him up nights, he could tell.

"I don't care how alright it is," Sam barreled on. "He was here. He's not here. We're drinking."

Dean let Sam in and wondered if some part of his brain hadn't been reaching for this in the first place. In retrospect, he realized wasn't usually the sort of person who drunk-texted questions about wedding arrangements.

A pie and a half later, Dean's mouth started talking. It did not check with his brain for permission first. "Cas says I freak when people like me. It's ridiculous."

His pronouncement was met by a profound lack of agreement.

Dean sat up (or leaned up – he was too full to sit up). "I said that's ridiculous. Come on, man. You know me. You know how often I score. Not to brag or anything, it's just a fact."

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, Dean. Usually, you hook up with people you don't know very well. Which means, conversely, they don't know you either. Let's face it, people who don't know you are kinda your specialty." Sam put down his drink and faced his brother. "I can disagree with him if that's what you want to hear right now but maybe Cas has a point."

"I want you to disagree with him."

"He's completely wrong. Seriously. Nice guy, but way off base."

Dean settled back into the couch. "Was that so hard?"

He and Sam ate and drank until they passed out on the couch. Because it was non-alcoholic beer Dean almost had to admit they were getting too old for late night pie binges, but instead he just blamed their jobs. Yeah, that's it, the job.

The job took the blame for a lot of things lately.

However, the job also served as a distraction. Now that Castiel had the reno in his guest-bedroom done he was able to hide away from the crew during the day as much as needed. And it was needed; according to Gabe he'd thrown himself into picking up as many shifts as possible at the bar in the week that followed. Dean wondered if it was to avoid thinking about their hiatus or just to give him a really good reason to sleep through most of the construction.

Or because he was surrounded by hot guys at the club – some of whom, evidence suggests, once had posters of him up on their walls. Dean tried not to consider that as a reason for the new work schedule, but he couldn't bring himself to *not* consider it. It's not like they'd left each other with some sort of relationship status to consider. Even if they had tried to name it, Dean doubted the title 'Dude I May or May Not Get Back with In a Few Weeks,' came with any rights.

The weirdest part was that Dean half hoped Cas did meet someone at the club. His less selfish side liked the idea of the guy getting a little more experience. Dean didn't think he knew many people who'd made it to twenty-eight years old without having sex but if he did he for damn sure wouldn't hold it against them if they made up for lost time. Cas should spend a few years figuring out what he likes. Then, if he meets up with Dean again after that, maybe then Dean could take this whole nonsense seriously. Besides, Dean could just about believe that by then he'd probably be way more mature and well-adjusted and able to handle this shit. And taller.

The more selfish side of him just wanted the band-aid yanked off already.

No such luck. Dean knew from the look on Gabe's face as he pulled Dean aside that he was about to get back in the ring for another round. "Before you even start, Cas left ME. I didn't kick him out or anything."

To Gabe's credit, he looked more concerned than anything. "I know. Little idiot told me everything."

Dean felt his Irish kick up at that. "Hey!"

Gabe only rolled his eyes. "He's my little brother, I can call him an idiot if I want to. I just can't call yours an idiot. I know the rules."

Dean tossed the measuring tape he'd been carrying into his tool kit and wiped his forehead. "Is there a point to this Gabe?" He didn't want to be terse with the guy but he was pretty far from being in the mood for this. It had been over a week since Cas left and Dean was starting to suspect every time he walked into his house it got emptier.

"I wanted to express my condolences." And from the look on Gabe's face, he really did.

Dean wiped sweet from his forehead again. Stupid Los Angeles last-ditch summer weather. Stupid global warming. "Sorry, nothing personal. I just hate the entire fucking planet at the moment."

"Yeah, you got a right to." For the world's mightiest douchebag Gabe seemed to have nailed the 'just stand around and don't try to make it better' side of comforting someone.

Dean thought he should say something. "Thanks." He watched as Gabe turned to go, then turned back again.

"For what it's worth, the Ice Queen is performing again. I'm friends with the woman who runs Micky's. If you know anyone who wanted to see the show – maybe from a discreet distance, like backstage – I could make that happen. In case you know anyone who's interested."

With that, Gabe left in a rush. Probably before he could change his mind.

Dean threw himself into his work after this conversation and tried to blank out his mind. Thankfully, his mind had short-circuited at the prospect anyway, so it wasn't as difficult as it might once have been. In his non-thoughts, two arguments fought for control.

One, Cas wanted time apart. He LEFT. That is not fucking ambiguous. On top of this, Dean encouraged him to leave. He drew his first uncomplicated breath in weeks from Castiel's vapor trail. This was a GOOD THING. A normal, healthy, grown-up, mature-ass man's way to handle the situation. There were too many lights, too many cameras, to result in any action right now. Or maybe ever. Cas deserved better than that. Castiel was the kind of lover Dean should bump into on facebook or wherever in a few years. Then they'd have drinks and talk about mature, well-adjusted things, like how crazy this past month had been for each of them and how 'fond' they were of each other. Dean knew he might not be the healthiest person in the world when it came to relationships, but he knew what a normal, healthy person would do with Castiel right now: Back. The Fuck. Away.

Argument number two: It's Cas.

Argument two point five was that the job was about to finish. He'd only nodded his head to Cas a few times in the past week and soon he wouldn't even have that consolation. Their next job was going to be in Portland. Dean liked Portland. He liked Voo-Doo Donuts and cheap lumber and the fact the place was so riddled with strip clubs that women went to them too, by virtue of there being so few bars without strip clubs. He also liked the image he had in his mind of taking Castiel to Everyday Music and setting him loose in the blues section.

He managed to wait until he got back to his empty house before he texted Gabe for the info.

.

.

"Nothing for me, thanks." Dean handed the waiter his menu with a smile that he hoped made up for the fact the waiter now knew his 20% tip would be off a smaller bill than he'd been expecting.

"Of course. I'll be back with your drinks." The waiter grinned. Dean could never tell if the waiters at The Abbey liked him or were just really friendly. Then again, he realized, he probably wasn't supposed to.

He looked up to see Sam and Jess staring him down. "What?"

"Did you just turn down a shot at Abbey short ribs? Are you a pod person? Is that your costume?"

Jess chuckled at this as Dean tried to blow off Sam's questions. "What? It's your engagement dinner. I'm not here for food, I'm here for you guys."

Sam rushed on. "You mean us and the food. That part goes without saying."

Dean looked down and directed his response to his phone, which he was checking yet again. "Alright, I might… haveathinglater."

"What was that?"

"I said I might have a thing later. Happy?"

Now it was both Sam and Jessie who were chuckling. "Okay, okay. Glad to hear it!" Sam said.

Jess leaned in. "And you're too nervous to eat? Must be serious. Here I thought we'd spend the night helping you drown your Cas sorrows."

Dean knew from the looks he got next that his face did not a damn thing to hide the fact this was a Castiel-related thing he had.

Sam covered his mouth in surprise, like a freakin' girl. "Are you guys back to-"

"No! But he's singing at Micky's tonight and the owner said she can sneak me in to watch from off-stage." Dean nodded his thanks to their server as the drinks were deposited at their table. "That's why we took your car tonight. After we're done here I'm gonna hit the club and cab it back."

"So no one sees the Impala? Nice. Good thinking."

Jess grimaced and looked down at her drink. "I don't know, Dean. It's not my place to say, but…"

"Not your place to say what?"

She pushed her drink aside and leaned over the table to look at Dean. "Isn't this just gonna make it hurt more? You're still locked into that shitty contract. I don't want to see you hurt, that's all."

Dean appreciated that, and said so. "It's just… he's so relaxed when he's on stage. It's like when he used to skate. That's his world. He's got everyone on the edge of their seat and he knows it. Things have been so fucked up for him lately." Dean neglected to add 'for both of us.' All three of them were thinking it anyway. "I wanna see him happy about something. It's weird but I think it might make things better, you know, seeing him in a good place."

Sam looked down before saying what he said next. "You want to see him happy before he gets someone else in his life, you mean."

"Thanks, Sam. But, yeah, that too. If he hasn't already got someone."

"Come on, Dean. It's been what, a week?"

"Ten days, and he's working at Weho's ground zero of hot, single guys."

Jess looked around the Abbey at all the good looking guys in their Halloween costumes. "Isn't that this place? I demand a refund."

Dean smiled. A rueful one, but it still counted. "Sorry to be such a chick about this."

Jess shot him a look. "No, no offense taken."

Dean winced. He was gonna have to clean up his language yet again now. "Sorry."

She only waved it off. "No worries. I just wish I could've met this guy. He must be something to have you tied up in knots like this."

Sam looked up at that. "Oh, you can meet him next week."

"What?" Jess asked.

"What?" Dean repeated.

Sam looked at him for a moment, nervous. "Yeah, this is the part you're not gonna like. The network found out I just got engaged and they want to recreate the proposal for the show. Sort of grand finish to the episode."

The deep breaths he took on instinct did nothing to quell Dean's response. "Those sonsofbitches! They can't let one good thing just-"

"Dean, it's really okay. Jess and I kinda want to shout it from the rooftops anyway. It'll be something we can show our kids one day."

Dean clinched his hand into a fist under the table and forced himself to find a little perspective. This was a happy night for a happy couple. That was all he needed to know. "Enough about my problems." He raised his glass. "To Jess and Sam. Sam, may Jess never realize how much better she could've done."

They clinked glasses and settled in for the evening.

.

.

The line outside Millions of Milkshakes was ridiculous, as usual. And there was no place to sit anyway, so Dean just stood outside and waited. He'd gotten a text saying this is where he'd be picked up. Hopefully after not too long a wait. If he had to hear the promotional video the milkshake place ran one more time he'd hunt down the so-called celebrities involved and punch them in the face on general principle.

Yeah, he was a tad on edge, it was fair to say.

He looked a bit suspicious as a teenage blonde girl approached. "You Dean?"

"Depends on who's asking."

She smiled and handed him a black mask that covered his face around his eyes. "I'm Jo, Ellen's daughter."

He turned the mask over in his hands. "What's this?"

"So no one will see you with me. It's Halloween. You'll blend."

She turned and walked off, setting a pace Dean struggled to match. "My grandmother and mother have run a gay bar in this town since back when just going to a gay bar was illegal, much less running one. We take security seriously."

They turned down an alley. Dean smiled. "He got to you too, huh?"

The young woman turned back. "Who?"

"Cas? This is for him, the 'you hurt him we know where to hide your body speech' right?"

Jo softened a little. "This is for you, Dean. So you know your privacy is important to us. The women in my family ran this like an underground resistance group for decades. They think I missed all the serious stuff but I picked up a lot when they weren't looking. Whenever you want in, let me know."

"Are you sure? It's not always gonna be Halloween."

She thought about this. "We'll find a way."

Dean believed her. "Okay then."

Jo unlocked the back door to the club, then paused. "But, yeah, you should know I like Cas and I have knives."

"Noted."

She looked him over one more time, one last appraising glance, before pushing the door open. "Cas is on last so you guys can talk afterwards and then leave without being seen. He has keys so he can lock up. Stick to the back stage and the wings and you'll be fine."

"Thank you." Dean hoped she got just how much he meant that.

Jo finally cracked a small smile. "Just part of the job."

With that, and a mental note to never let anyone say anything bad about Micky's in his presence ever gain, he followed her inside.

.

.

The wings and backstage area were dark and cramped, which made sense to Dean considering it was a bar, not a theatre. There was one dressing rooms with a sign out front that could be flipped between "In Use" and "Free."

It turned out Jo came for Dean just in time. As Dean found a place to stand that didn't seem like it would result in bumping anyone or anything, he saw Castiel step onto the stage from the other side. Apparently The Ice Queen was not above going all out for the holiday; Cas was done up as an angel. Black wings, a thin gold halo that glinted in the spotlight... the result was a little bit wrong and all kinds of right. The wrong part being Dean could feel himself want to wave or shout or something to let Cas know he was there even though he knew he couldn't. Cas wasn't his angel anymore.

The amateur night must have impressed Jo and her mom as much as it had impressed Dean as Castiel's first number was East of the Sun again. Much like before, Castiel's make-up was spare and perfect. Dean had never seen the appeal of drag queens before, but now he understood his few encounters had been with one kind only, the 'more is better' kind. Castiel's look was so subtle, it took everything beautiful that was already there and underlined it just enough to catch everyone's eye.

After the first song, the song Dean hoped Cas sang in part for him, he moved on to a few other lonesome tunes. Keeping with the theme of celestial isolation, Castiel sang 'It's Like Reaching for the Moon.' After that, he veered a bit closer to the conventional and actually did two songs Dean had heard before, 'Mad About the Boy' and 'But Not for Me.' Dean didn't want to get his hopes up, but he was pretty relieved Cas didn't perform any songs called 'Just This Week I Met This Awesome New Guy…' or anything like that. As Dean identified each song as not being on the theme of new love or 'my ex should fuck off and die,' Dean relaxed more into enjoying the performance.

And he wasn't the only one. Even though Cas was the last to perform and the club would be closing soon, Dean could see a lot of guys in the audience leaning in to enjoy the show. He could still see why they put Cas on last though. Micky's was mostly known for singers doing pop-hits, or perhaps a throw-back to the 70s. Castiel's repertoire never seemed to make it to the second half of the century. Even for an audience that likes a good throwback, this was a throwback. Still, Castiel's rep must have been growing. Dean could definitely spot a few fans in the audience. He knew the way fandom wrote itself on one's face. He'd seen it in the eyes of a few of his own fans from time to time, the awe bordering on a nervous grin. Castiel had some serious admirers in the house, that was for damn sure (including the two brother's who'd fawned over Castiel so many nights ago after their first fight. Castiel gave them a special wink and a wave from the stage).

Dean felt a terrifying amount of possessiveness crawl through him at this realization – terrifying in no small part due to the fact what he was possessive of wasn't even his, and had no reason to ever become his. Castiel had made that mistake once, he wouldn't again. Dean tried to remind himself he wasn't the kind or level of asshole that would let Cas fall back on bad habits but mostly he just didn't believe he was that lucky.

Before he knew it was it was happening, Dean was stepping aside to let Castiel off the stage.

Cas didn't see him at first. Going from the bright lights of the stage to the dark of the wings could do that to a person. So Dean quietly said "You were great out there."

At that, Cas looked up. "Dean?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, I just…"

Cas looked around wildly as if for an escape route. Dean picked up on this. His eyes were already adjusted to the darkness. "I can go. I just wanted to see you once before-"

"In here." Cas pulled him into the dressing room and flipped the sign on the outside to 'In Use.'

It was a cramped space. There was a padded bench by the mirror instead of chairs and clothes were all over the place. Still, Dean knew the rest of the night's performers had cleared out already. He could have his humiliating 'you're awesome and my life sucks now' conversation in peace.

Once the door closed behind him, Castiel remained close. The eye-liner he'd chosen, blue with a hint of glitter, brought out his eyes like it was setting them on fire. "Why are you here, Dean?"

Dean winced. "I just wanted to see you're okay. Gabe told me about the show tonight, and Jo said she could make it safe for me so no one saw me. You were amazing up there."

Cas softened a bit at that. He still didn't pull away. "Thank you. I'm glad you came."

Dean reached out and ran his fingers through Castiel's wig for a moment. "You know, you look good no matter what you do. It's so not fair."

Cas blushed at this and moved to the bench. He removed the wig. "It takes more work than you think. Although it's nice to know my years of athletic training yielded some benefits. I've known how to put on eye-liner since I was ten."

He turned and looked back at Dean. "You'd look good in make up too, you know. You have beautiful eyes."

Dean could actually feel himself blush at that. This man had seen him naked and climaxing and could still somehow make him blush. "Coming from you that's… hard to believe, actually."

Castiel scooted over on the bench, a clear signal Dean should join him. Dean dropped one leg over it and sat astride, facing Castiel head on. Castiel reached out a hand and flipped a few switches. Soon the overhead lights were off and only the soft lights around the mirror remained lit.

Castiel looked over the make-up options and selected some gold eyeliner. He looked back to Dean. "Do you trust me?"

Dean smiled. Of all their verbal games, this was his favorite. "You know it. I just don't see the point."

Castiel reached out a hand to hold Dean's face still and set to work. "The point is for you to see you the way I see you. Keep still and don't peek in the mirror."

It was the weirdest turn on Dean had ever experienced, but feeling Castiel's hand on his cheek, the weight of his intense focus, was enough to shout down the part of his mind that was asking 'Make-up? Really?' Why the fuck not, he answered back. It's Halloween, isn't it?

Castiel put something damp in his hands and then carded them through Dean's hair, pulling it out so it could frame his face. Then he touched Dean's lips with his finger. It was coated in something Dean didn't want to think about at the moment, he just wanted to feel the touch, the Cas, of the moment and drown in it.

When Castiel pulled his finger back from Dean's face his hand returned with a tissue. "Kiss this" he commanded. Dean blotted his lips, adding a wink for Castiel's benefit as he did so.

Castiel smiled leaned back to examine his handiwork. Dean wondered if it hadn't gone wrong somehow because Cas appeared to look downhearted at the results. He finally smiled. "You can look now."

Dean looked in the mirror and… "Holy fuck! We'll, I'd do me." It was true. Cas had used a light touch with the gold eyeliner, just enough to shine a light on Dean's green eyes and bring out the flecks of gold already there. His hair had a gel in it with a hint of sparkle that didn't so much frame his face as insist that attention must paid. The lipstick wasn't a lipstick at all but a slight gloss, giving Dean the hint of a just-kissed sheen.

Castiel smiled at the reaction he wrought. "Good. Maybe the next time someone else thinks that you'll be less suspicious."

"Hey, I'm fine with people wanting me."

"Really? I would call that a recent development."

"Yeah, really." Dean searched his mind for a convincing argument. "I have fans, you know."

Castiel gave him a look that told him Dean he wasn't going to like his response. "Yes, but they're all so far away, aren't they? You don't mind love from afar, Dean. It's when someone manages it up close that it becomes incomprehensible to you."

Dean looked off at the ironing board that took up the other corner of the room. "Touché."

He knew it was at least a little be cheating, but he couldn't help but try to use the effect of his new look on Castiel, if for no other reason to than to change the subject. "This look works on me, yeah, but I'm easy. The real question is…" he scooted closer. "Does it work on you?" He nuzzled in as close to Cas as he dared, gratified when Castiel nuzzled back, letting their foreheads push together again, close enough to kiss but not quite allowing themselves to do so.

"Dean, you are the least easy person I have ever met." In Castiel's sex-on-gravel voice even a burn sounded like the highest of compliments.

Dean opened his eyes but didn't pull away. "I'm sorry for that."

Castiel leaned back enough to stare Dean down, his head canted to the side. Again Dean got the impression Cas could read him like a book. "Why are you here?"

Dean looked down. "The show's going to Portland for a while after the episode winds up. I probably won't be back in town for a few weeks, at least. By then, I guess a lot of things will be different. I figured this might be my last chance."

"Last chance for what?"

Dean leaned in and kissed Castiel. Close lipped, no pressure, just enough to see how he'd respond. At first Castiel did nothing, but then he finally tipped his head up and opened his lips to Dean. It was a kiss that made Dean as nervous as their first kiss should've if they hadn't been fighting at the time. It was a kiss that made him as nervous as all his first kisses put together should've.

Dean pulled his lips back but didn't pull away. "You know what we did, the other night. It occurred to me I've only been on the giving end of that, never receiving. So before you run off and live some amazing life, I thought, maybe…"

Castiel looked down at his drag materials and took off his earrings. "I'm flattered, Dean. But I can't help but notice you only want me when you can't have me."

Dean leaned in closer at that and decided to prove Cas wasn't the only one with a killer thousand yard stare. "I want you all the time, Cas. I want you every hour of every fucking day. But I need you safe. I need that more than anything. So the only time I get hot and heavy with you is when there's some sort of damn moat protecting you from me. But I wanted you since the moment I saw you, okay? Hell, if I'd have known you existed before that I'd have wanted you since then too."

I've wanted you since my mother read me the story about princes who fall from the sky.

Dean watched Castiel absorb, or rather try to absorb, his words. He ran his hand through Castiel's hair again. It was probably an illegal move but there was no ref to flag the play and he knew it might be his last chance.

Cas looked up at Dean, the blue in his eyes dimmed by the want taking over. "Are you sure?" He looked around. "In a dressing room?"

"As long as it's with you, what do I care?" That comment went directly to where Dean had hoped it would. He could tell by the way Castiel's eyes widened.

"Wait here." Cas gave him a dark, hungry look and absented himself from the room.

Dean leaned back on the padded bench. This had 'bad idea' stamped in big red letters and a handful of languages all over it, but Dean had always been of the opinion that, when you died, part of you wished you'd made more awesome mistakes. Mistakes like sleeping with Cas whenever the opportunity came up.

Dean decided to pass the time by getting himself as naked as possible.

When Cas returned it was with some materials from the vending machine in the men's room. Maybe it played too much to type, but Dean remembered those restrooms were fucking stocked. Castiel looked down where Dean was already naked on the bench and locked the door behind him. "They're closing down now, but just in case…"

"Fine. Just don't go away again."

Castiel sat across from him and gave Dean a look. "I hardly think this is the time to revisit that discussion."

"Agreed. Sit down and turn around so I can take off your dress."

Castiel sat and turned away, giving Dean easy access to the zipper that bisected his back. Any doubts Dean might've harbored about this being what he wanted disappeared as he undid the zipper, unwrapping Castiel's skin like a gift. Before the dress was even off he found himself leaning forward to kiss his neck and snake his hands around the front to play with Castiel's chest. The knight errant in Dean couldn't keep himself from kissing up to Castiel's ear. "You sure about this? It can't change anything."

"I'm making the same decision you are, Dean. For the same reasons. Now lie on your back."

Dean was more than happy to comply. He watched with avid interest as Castiel removed the rest of his clothes but left his make-up intact. He was at the tender mercy of The Ice Queen now.

Before he could even be asked, Dean moved his legs aside to give Cas room. Cas started out by lavishing attention on Dean's chest and stomach before finally moving lower. After letting out some indecent moans Dean found the ability to speak in words. "You sure you don't want me doing this to you first?"

Castiel looked up from his work, his eyes heavy-lidded but intense. "Dean, for the last time stop worrying about me." He returned to his job with renewed zeal, so much so Dean didn't notice the finger at his hole before it had slid in. He gripped the armrest of the bench above his head.

"Okay?" Castiel looked down at him with such evident concern he could've suggested anything and Dean would've trusted him. He nodded and hoped it spoke volumes.

The second finger caused more of a burn, more of the strange sense of fullness. Dean willed himself to not react this time, instead breathing slowly and carding Castiel's hair with one hand. The other still clutched at the armrest as if it were his anchor to the world. "Come on, Cas. Do it."

But Cas would not be rushed. He moved his fingers until he found the sweet spot that made Dean arch his back like a puppet whose strings had been pulled. Cas used his free hand to roam over Dean's hips and chest, holding him in place as much as Dean needed.

Then Castiel reached for Dean's legs and positioned them against his shoulders. "You can still tell me to stop, Dean."

Dean stared up at him. Tell Cas to stop? He'd never had that power. "Please, Cas."

Apparently that's what Cas had been needing to hear. He positioned himself just so and pushed forward. And Dean let out a moan that probably could've been heard in Koreatown.

Footsteps outside the door caused Castiel's eyes to widen in shock. He placed a hand over Dean's mouth, just to be safe. With the other, he held Dean in place by the hips. Dean took the opportunity to draw in Castiel's fingers and suck them down to the knuckle. He was rewarded by the sight of Castiel's eyes rolling back to savor it. Dean's hand reached out on instinct and Cas caught it in his free hand and laced their fingers.

Dean waited for the burn to subside, which it did. What was left was an amazing feeling of fullness. He was holding Cas inside himself and, to be honest, it was awesome. When Dean recovered enough to open his eyes he saw Castiel taking breaths that made his bare chest heave with each one. Dean could tell he was waiting for something. "Cas-"

"Move when you're ready."

Dean waited a few moments, just taking it in. If he didn't move soon he was going to start thinking about the cab ride back, going to bed alone, waking up alone, ad infinitum, until Castiel was gone forever and Dean was just plain gone. He shifted his hips and ground himself back into the moment.

Cas matched his movements. Slowly at first, but then he found just the right angle to set Dean off, the angle that made Dean clench their hands together until his knuckles went white. The thought flashed through Dean's mind unbidden that this was the last time he'd have with Cas. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, desperate to drink it in.

Cas still wore his gold wire halo like it was a part of him. Everything about Cas was so perfect and so above Dean's caste it killed him. And from the way Dean could feel his muscles clench, his feet curling up, it was killing him very, very quickly. With only the bench to support him his arms had no brace, nowhere to turn. It was like climaxing in free-fall. Only Castiel held him together.

When Castiel pulled his slick hand from Dean's mouth and set to work jerking him off Dean knew he was done. The idea that it was moments away from being over, and he and Cas along with it, chilled his enthusiasm enough to delay the end but it was still a forgone conclusion. He reached a hand back to the armrest over his head to brace himself for the inevitable and lowered his legs from where they'd been flush with Castiel's shoulders and wrapped them around his partner. "Cas…" he was desperate to say everything and nothing at once.

Cas leaned over him now. He was covered in a sheen of sweet, his voice raw. "It's alright, Dean." He placed both hands on Dean's hips, pinning him in place. With that he leaned in to offer a kiss. "Let go."

Dean held Castiel's shoulder in a bruising grip. He trusted Cas. He even trusted enough to let go… After more fast thrusts the moment ricocheted through him like lightning in the blood. "Cas, Cas…" His last memory was of Castiel calling his name, falling with him. He never wanted to reach the ground.

.

.

When Dean came to again he was still naked on the long, padded bench in Micky's dressing room but a blanket had been wrapped around his sleeping form. Castiel sat nearby on the floor, dressed in his street clothes, reading a book by the soft light of the mirrors.

Dean caught sight of the familiar blue book. "You still on that one? Thought you'd be done by now."

Castiel looked up at Dean and smiled. "I finished it last year, I just like to dip into it again from time to time. I suppose it's more of a security blanket than anything." He got up on his knees and kissed Dean awake. "Good morning."

Dean sat up. "Did I sleep that long?"

"Only a few hours. I can call for our cabs now."

Dean stretched his arms out above him. "Thanks." He noticed his clothes were now folded into a tidy pile on the dressing room table. "You know you're going to make some guy very happy, right?" Dean reached for his clothes. He'd meant it as a joke but Castiel only smiled up from the floor in a way that somehow made Dean just feel like he'd just told him 'Don't worry, you can always get another puppy.' It gave Dean the impression this would be the morning he would understand where the term 'walk of shame' came from.

He set a land-speed record for getting dressed that did nothing to quell the deafening silence. After he had his act together Cas led him out to the alley behind the club.

"I'll wait with you, if you like. Unless that would be a bad idea…"

Dean looked up and down the street. It was raining, the sort of apathetic LA drizzle that felt like nothing but seemed to scare everyone inside just the same. "You might as well stay. We're the only ones too dumb to be out in the rain at this hour."

Castiel smiled and leaned back up against the wall. "You have a point." He stared at Dean.

Dean stared back. The only sound was the rain. The only smell that of wet cement.

It wasn't that Dean wasn't trying to think of something to say. He was. When he thought he'd finally thought of something he looked up to Cas again.

Cas shook his head before Dean could speak. "Don't. We both knew what this was." Cas hadn't dressed for the weather. After ten minutes of waiting for their cabs his red t-shirt had been soaked through. He shivered.

Dean stepped in close. He folded Castiel into arms and wrapped part of his leather jacket over him. He knew in that moment this would be the last thing he could do for Cas. He kissed his ear, in part to keep it warm. He wanted to say 'thank you' or 'you're amazing' or even 'we can still run off to Mexico you know,' but it all sounded hollow and worthless in Dean's head. He couldn't begin to guess how pointless it would sound out loud.

Their cabs came soon after. Dean couldn't think of anything that could possibly fix the situation, save perhaps for getting the fuck out of Castiel's life and letting him move the fuck on.

He climbed into his cab, gave the address to the driver, and tried to remind himself he'd just had some of the most mind-blowing sex of his life. Usually that would make him happy. Hell, it'd usually make him an over-the-moon pain in the ass to be around.

Usually.

This time it just made Dean quiet. By the time he got back home and showered the booty call sex off his body he'd just about convinced himself everything was finished. He was finally free, relieved to get back to the random hook-ups and endless Chinese take-out of the life that chose him as much as he chose it. He was in a decent place to be, if not a good one. It was settled. He really believed it was enough.

Until he passed a mirror and wondered why his eyes were rimmed in gold.

.

.

The morning of the last day on job that ate Dean's life for over a month dawned clear and hot. It was the kind of heat that played tricks with your vision, making you think someone must have turned up the lights as well as the heat. The recent drizzle had to be hosed off the finished house as Los Angeles rains came black with smog, but they left the air so clear in their wake Dean could almost believe he lived in the California that you can only see in movies. Everything was splashed with an extra coat of color and sunlight. No one makes movies about the usual days, the days when you can't see one side of the valley from the other.

Gabe, beer in hand, nodded to Dean as they assembled to tape the reveal. He and Castiel were going to walk through the house as if for the first time, offering 'oohs' and 'ahs' where appropriate. It was usually a fun day of work, to be honest. It certainly didn't qualify as work by any usual construction company standards. Cable reality show fame really could be a sweet gig.

If you came by it honestly…

Dean tucked in the flannel shirt their wardrobe approvals person picked out for the final scene (which in this heat should've qualified as talent abuse). He'd just finished when Castiel approached. Dean could only stare.

He looked happy. Happy we're getting out of his face, most likely. Dean offered a curt nod before anything dramatic wound up happening for all to see. He kept his eyes on the ground. "Hiya, Cas."

"Hello, Dean."

That voice again. That voice was so unfair. It was perfect and unfair and I should've kidnapped you when I had the chance.

Castiel wouldn't have needed any other-worldly mojo to read Dean's conflicted thoughts. Dean knew he was a far cry from 'casual' at the moment. But that was what the day, the job, and his entire life demanded at the moment and that is what he would be.

He was sure of this right up until the point Castiel reached out and tapped his nose.

Okay. Awkward. "What was that?"

With not a spec of guile on his face, Castiel held up one hand, his thumb between two fingers. "I believe I have your nose."

Gabe just snickered. Dean, on the other hand, began to laugh the kind of laugh that worked its way up from your socks. Suddenly, Dean's shitty world was sunny again. "Dammit, Cas! Don't ever change, okay?"

Castiel blushed and offered Dean a small smile. "I promise."

With that, Sam bounded up and they started the show…

.

.

After Dean had all his emo forced out of him through laughter - like some sort of Heimlich maneuver for man pain – the rest of the day flowed smoothly and far too fast. Not even the smug presence of Zachariah hovering by the director all day could put a damper on his last day with Castiel. Before he knew it, he and Castiel were standing off to the side watching Sam and Jesse tape their engagement scene.

Dean couldn't help but sneak looks over Castiel's way. "You look happy."

"I'm happy all the days I get to see you, Dean."

Yup, still doesn't defend himself around me. Maybe I got though this without giving him a reason to. Dean didn't believe it, but with the sun shining down on a day where the mountains were green and not their usual grey and the sky was actually blue, he didn't disbelieve it either. Hell, even the birds were singing again. Just as he'd expected, they reminded him of Cas.

Castiel continued. "You look happy too, Dean."

Dean threw back more of his beer and grinned. "Yeah, well, my brother's getting fake engaged today. Makes it hard not to be real happy." Dean bent over to his tool kit and removed a bag that read The Last Bookstore. "Don't make a big deal out of it or anything, but I got you something."

Castiel raised an eyebrow at this. It alone was enough to make Dean flinch.

"Our cover is we're friends, right? So here. Merry early Christmas or something."

Castiel opened the bag. "The Little Prince?"

Dean grinned. "It's not just a kids book. You'll like it."

"I'm sure I will, Dean."

Dean noticed he was still not tired of hearing Castiel say his name. And for someone with as formal a speech pattern as Castiel had that said something. "The first time I saw you I just knew I knew you from somewhere. It's 'cause you reminded me of this."

Castiel put the bag down and picked up his beer. "The first time I saw you was on television. You seemed like a force of nature."

"Yeah? Where'd you get that idea?"

"It was your sense of humor, I think. You were so relaxed, so... yourself. I don't think I'd realized until that moment how much I changed myself for others. Seeing you laugh and flirt and howl out your car window… You looked so free. I couldn't even imagine what that felt like at the time." He blushed. "You make freedom look very appealing, Dean Winchester."

Dean replayed those last words in his head once. Twice. Again he had the feeling of something dropping through him from a great and gruesome height.

"Hey, Cas, put down your beer a minute."

Castiel put down his drink and faced Dean as if following his command was the most natural thing in the world. His pure trust was the last thing to twig Dean's conscience before he finally weighted the bag and shoved it off the bridge with both hands.

Dean grabbed Cas and kissed him like his life depended on it.

Cas pulled back alarmed – but not far. When Dean saw that he knew he was safe to lean in close again. "You're worth this, you hear me? You. Are. Worth. This. If I ever make you doubt that again you need to punch me in the face. You got that?"

Castiel's eyes lit up with fearful hope like a kid who'd just discovered it was Christmas. Like he'd discovered it was every Christmas. "Yes, I think so."

"Good." He pulled Cas in tight and reminded himself this time he wouldn't have to let go.

With that, Dean looked up to see everyone on the crew staring. Gabe was, God help us all, cheering and Sam and Jess were, of course, joining in. Becky looked like she would too as soon as air started moving in and out of her lungs again. Dean had no idea what to do next, so he did the only thing he could think of. He took Castiel by the hand and led him over to Sam and Jesse.

"Jesse, this is Cas. He's mine."

Jessie smiled. "He's you're what?"

Castiel blushed. "We're still working on that." He offered his hand. "Lovely to meet you. Congratulations on the engagement."

"Yeah, congrats to you too," Sam offered. It was the last thing Dean heard until he was jumped from behind by a flying Gabriel-shaped monster.

"I knew it! I totally called this!"

Dean somehow couldn't manage to shake him. "Bitch, get off."

Gabriel slid down Dean's back in a surprisingly controlled manner. "Fine. But I totally called this! You are all my puppets! Bow to your mast-"

"DEAN!"

Zachariah had the mother of all bitchfaces on. It was the sort of thing that in biblical times would've reduced someone to salt. "What did I tell you?"

Dean could actually feel everyone close ranks to protect him from Zachariah, or possibly from the attempted manslaughter charge Dean might've been about to incur. Instead, Dean only threw an arm around Castiel. He thought of all the choice things he could say, but his promise to Sammy somehow clawed its way to the forefront of his thoughts. "Deal with it."

What the hell; he could tell the guy plenty more after he was fired.

Zachariah stormed off, cell phone already in hand. No doubt he had a crack legal team kept chained in his basement for just such occasions. It would've been funny – scratch that, it would've been hi-freakin'-larious - if it weren't for the concern writ large on Castiel's face.

Dean pulled him aside. "Don't worry about that. Just you and me, that's all I need."

Castiel nodded. "Okay. The same goes for me too, Dean. And I won't let you face this alone. I hope you understand that."

"I know."

Dean pulled Cas in for a quick 'I Just Tanked My Job For You' hug. When he pulled back it was only far enough to watch Castiel's reaction to a very important question.

"Have you ever been to Mexico?"

Later, when packing up for the day, Dean found Cas standing by his toolkit. As Dean bent low to pick it up an idea seized him. Throwing an arm out, he swept up Castiel and threw him over his shoulder.

"Hey, Gabe! We're packing up now. Mind if I take this?"

Gabe gave the universal hand signal for 'turn around.' Dean obliged.

Whatever whispered conversation took place must have been to Gabe's satisfaction. "Sure. Just remember: you break it, you bought it."

Dean used his free hand to offer a wave. "Will do. Thanks."

Making his way in the late afternoon sun to the Impala, Castiel's laughter followed behind him like a comet tail.

.

.

Castiel reached out to place a supportive hand on Dean's arm as they sat waiting inside Zach's dungeon. Or at least that's what Dean called it anyway.

"I don't care if it's on the sixth floor, it's still a dungeon. I'm surprised the guy doesn't actually live under a rock."

Castiel gave him a look for that. "Don't be ridiculous, Dean. Everyone knows trolls live under bridges."

Dean looked up at him and laughed. He smiled now when he looked at Cas. Big, goofy Dean smiles. The kind Castiel had seen on his show and had started to believe were a product of special effects.

The glass door to the room opened. "Excuse me, but if you two could keep your filthy displays to yourself." Yup, same old Zach. His heart had not grown three sizes that day.

Cas could see a protective rage shoot across Dean's face. Dean was just about to stand (which could lead nowhere good) when Cas spoke up. "Excuse me, Mr. Zachariah, but as someone from a very sheltered background I have to tell you if you think that was a disgusting display you really ought to get out more."

He could feel Dean's anger dissipate into humor again. "What he said."

Zach opened his mouth, no doubt to start a very loud and vociferous firing process, when Becky stepped in behind him. "Oh, good, you're all here."

Zachariah looked so surprised to see her he nearly didn't look enraged for a second. "Excuse me, Miss Rosen, but on behalf of our network, our great nation, and our CEO Sir Alexander Baumgarten I'm about to terminate one of these people," he looked back to Dean "with extreme prejudice."

Becky only grinned. "Oh, that's so cute that you call him Sir! I just call him dad."

Zachariah paled. "What?"

What?

Castiel shot a look to Dean.

Dean's response was a clear but silent 'Dude, I had no idea!'

Becky smiled and sat on Zachariah's desk. "He offered me an assistant producing job straight off but I told him I wanted to learn how things really worked around here. Even went under my mother's maiden name so no one would catch me. Good thing I did, too. Gave me a chance to find out about some very interesting clauses you added to our standard talent contract, Zach."

Castiel couldn't be sure what gave him this impression, but he could've sworn she'd just somehow said the name Zach like it rhymed with Dick.

Zachariah straightened his already straight tie and tried to make himself appear taller. "Young lady…"

Castiel shrank down in his seat. He wasn't sure what would happen after Godzilla called Mothra 'Young lady,' but he knew it couldn't be good.

Zachariah continued. "I am far more familiar with what Sir Baumgarten wants for his network than you are."

Becky didn't appear phased. "Care to bet your job on that?" She hopped off his desk and bore down on him. "You've been taking my father's name in vain for far too long, Zachariah. It stops now. Take the talent off your leash and blind copy me and my father on every one of your apologetic emails. Do it on my say so or do it on your boss's say so. And remember this is us being NICE."

Zachariah relaxed into a grin. "I only have one boss, Becky."

At that, the phone on his desk rang.

Becky made for the door. "I know. That's him now. Oh, and tell him Thanksgiving is at my place this year." She turned and looked back to Cas and Dean. "You two, hallway, now."

Castiel knew Dean was as stunned as he was, and that he wasn't being in any way facetious when he snapped "Yes, ma'am!"

Castiel had barely stepped into the hall before Becky shoved a packet into his hands. "What's this?"

Becky grinned. "A pitch proposal for a new show called 'Dean Can Cook.' I got the idea from watching you try to explain eggs to him the other day. Dean's already got a built in audience here and I've done some research on you. Did you know you had a huge fan club?"

Dean grinned and gave him what Castiel was certain was a 'You sly dog!' look. "I can neither confirm nor deny that."

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter. After the little stunt with the contracts ol' Zach will owe us at least a pilot. I figured we could make it a Thanksgiving episode and air it as a test if it scores well. After that, something for Christmas, something for New Year's, and if the ratings are there you're in."

Castiel looked down to the proposal in his hands and then back to Becky. "'Dean Can Cook?' Are you sure we're not overselling this?"

It took a second for Dean to realize he'd just been insulted. "Hey!"

She pointed to a paragraph titled 'The Appeal.' "That's the whole point. Most cooking shows today are so elaborate or specialized. We're going for the market of people learning the basics for the first time. Each show would include a recipe at your level and one or two at Dean's. I was thinking your first episode could involve crème brûlée."

Dean looked up from his copy of the proposal. "Crème brûlée? Seriously?"

"You make it with a flame thrower" Castiel explained on instinct.

Dean's eyebrows lifted, impressed. "I'm in."

Castiel looked over Becky's shoulder at Dean. "Are you sure about this?"

"If it keeps you in LA I can be Julia fucking Child if need be."

Becky chimed in. "It's just the pilot you'd be signing up for now. The contract is in there; show it to your agent and have him get back to us. I have to go line up a kitchen set and some writers." She dashed off, pausing only once at the elevator to look back. "Call me!" She accompanied this with the phone-hand-by-the-ears gesture.

Castiel repeated it on some weird instinct. He then looked up at Dean. "I need an agent?"

"You have an agent. My guy Bobby will sort you out. He's an old guy, but he's seen every trick and pulled half of them himself."

This was all happening fast. Castiel looked back down at the rather formal looking proposal. "Is this really happening?"

With Becky gone, Dean stepped in close to Castiel and tipped his head up to look into his eyes. "Yeah, it is. Because of you."

Dean kissed him, and after let his head rest against Castiel's. "Haven't you heard? Good things do happen, Cas."

Castiel closed his eyes and decided in that moment to go with it, the show, Dean, Los Angeles, whatever the world put in front of him.

Because every now and then they do.

.

.

.

A/N: All locations described in this story are real: The Last Bookstore, The Abbey, Micky's, the 24/7 Big Boy's in either Toluca Lake or Burbank (depending on where you draw the line), Everday Music, even the skating rink, Iceland. The women who fictionally run Micky's in this story and their history is based on the book Gay Bar about gay bars in Los Angeles in the 1950s, by Helen Branson and Will Fellows.

Thank you for the comments and follows. If someone could maybe give this a shoutout on Tumblr, you'd make my week. The Supernatural fandom is one of the most supportive I've ever seen. I hope to stick around here a long time.