Archive of Our Own ^beta

„Can I take your order?” The waitress was small and dainty with a wild mob of short red hair framing her face.

Castiel shook his head. “No, I’m still waiting, thank you.” The waitress nodded and moved on to the next table.

It had been the second time already that he’d dismissed her, and the other customers were already starting to throw him pitiful glances. Uneasy, he shifted in his seat and took another look at his phone. Still no message from Balthazar. It was so typical for him to stand Castiel up. It wasn’t the first time this had happened and one of many reasons why Castiel had broken up with him. But for some reason he had once again decided to believe Balthazar’s lies about having changed and it never happening again if he only gave him another chance. Castiel had agreed to one date only, mostly because he had never been able to say no to Balthazar about anything. Balthazar knew that, which was probably why he wasn’t here right now, dressed to the nines and begging Castiel for forgiveness.

Although, it had only been fifteen minutes so far. Fifteen minutes was practically nothing. Fifteen minutes could be stuck in traffic with no battery left to contact his ex-boyfriend. Maybe he was helping an elderly woman across the street this instant.

Castiel knew he was making excuses and that Balthazar hadn’t helped an elderly woman across the street in his lifetime, but he still checked his phone one more time to see if maybe now there was a message.

“Hey, I know you’re still waiting but maybe you want to order something to drink while you’re waiting for your date?”

It was the waitress again. She seemed kind but even she was looking at him with that pitiful look in her eyes. Castiel furrowed his brows, considering whether he should just get up and leave but then again, he knew that if he didn’t wait here, he would probably still wait another twenty minutes outside, just in case Balthazar was really only arriving late. After all, fifteen minutes really weren’t that big of a deal. He sighed.

“Yeah, I suppose he’ll take a little longer.” He reached for the menu and ordered the first thing that caught his eye: a coke.

The waitress smiled, scribbled it onto her pad and told him it would be just a second. Castiel smiled back but as soon as she turned around the smile fell, and he started massaging his temples with his fingertips. He could feel a headache coming on. If Balthazar wasn’t here as soon as he’d finished that coke, he’d leave. He had enough of the other customers staring at him.

Unlike anticipated though, the waitress didn’t walk to the bar to pass on his order but moved to the front door, taking her phone out of her back pocket. Castiel didn’t mind – it wasn’t like he was in a rush – but he hoped her boss wouldn’t spot her sneaking out the door. He didn’t have to worry though because she was back two minutes later, this time walking up to the bar.

Not having much else to do, Castiel wondered what she’d been doing outside. Calling her boyfriend to pick her up as soon as her shift was done? Maybe there was a family emergency and she was checking in? He hoped not. And what kind of family emergency could that be? Maybe someone was sick? Or maybe she had a child waiting at home. She seemed a little young but there were younger girls to have become mothers. He sighed. He should stop imagining the personal life of his waitress out of boredom.

Castiel noticed he drank his Coke in the smallest sips possible, trying to postpone the moment when he’d hit the bottom of the glass. He didn’t even know why. He’d meant it when he’d broken up with Balthazar. He didn’t love him, he was sick of being put on second, third, or fourth place on his list of priorities. But a small part of him had just wanted to have company for the evening, have a nice dinner, good conversation. And Balthazar had always been good company.

When he showed up.

He felt ridiculous. His back was itching with all the pitiful glances from the customers at the tables around him. He was surprised he hadn’t been asked to give up the table yet, the place was packed. Probably, they’d let him sit for as long as his reservation allowed, which was a lot longer than Castiel intended to wait. He glanced at his watch. It had been more than half an hour. Thinking that Balthazar would still show up was naïve.

With one last gulp he emptied his coke, before reaching for his trench coat that was draped around the back of his chair.

“Hey, babe, sorry I’m late. Traffic was hell.”

Confused, Castiel looked up, thinking Balthazar might have showed up after all, even though the voice was much deeper and spoke with a midwestern drawl instead of the familiar English accent. Instead, what he found in front of him was a broad-shouldered man with sandy-blonde hair, who had either been blessed by genetics in generous amounts or been brought to life artificially from the cover of a magazine.

Castiel was so stunned, he didn’t even move when the stranger leaned forward to plant a kiss on Castiel’s cheek. Only, instead of his lips touching Castiel, he whispered: “I’m Dean, just go with it.”

Castiel blinked, still confused. Was this man a secret agent who’d been forced to go undercover quickly? Or maybe a criminal, trying to avoid the cops? He could feel his hands getting sweaty, while Dean shrugged out of his well-worn leather jacket and reached for the menu. Out of the corner of his eye, he tried to see if some of the other patrons were looking. Maybe he could send a message. But all the other customers were now focused on their food, their conversations, their dates, some noticed his gaze and smiled, apparently happy that his ‘date’ had finally arrived. His eyes ultimately settled on Dean, who looked up from the menu to smile softly at him. That was when the final gear in Castiel’s head turned and it made click. Dean had seen that Castiel had been stood up. Dean was pretending to be his date, so Castiel wouldn’t suffer further embarrassment. Dean was here to help. Castiel relaxed.

“So, how was your day?” Dean asked, snapping the menu shut and leaning forward on his chair in interest.

“Uhm…” Castiel tried to think of something he’d done today but his head was still trying to adapt to the situation and to Dean, who seemed to have a very intense gaze. “I, uh, I had a very normal day at the university.” He noticed Dean might think he was an older college student, so he added: “I did everything I usually do as a professor of Ancient Languages.”

Dean raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Well, that might not sound much to you, but even a normal day for a professor is pretty impressive for a mechanic like me.”

Castiel nodded, trying to save this piece of information about Dean. “You might think so, Dean, but that’s because you value your own skills to little. You might not know how to speak Ancient Greek but I’m barely able to build a shelf or change the oil on my car, let alone do what you are doing.”

That seemed to take Dean aback a little, but he brushed it off quickly. “Nah, you’re just being too humble.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Castiel countered.

In that moment the red-headed waitress returned and took the empty glass from their table.

“Well, it looks like your date finally arrived.” She winked at Castiel. “What can I get the two of you?”

Dean relaxed back into his chair. “For me a beer please.” He looked at Castiel questioningly, who hadn’t even thought about what he might like.

“Yes, for me too,” he blurted out, already forgotten what it was that Dean had ordered.

The waitress dotted everything down, smiled, and then went on to place their order.

Dean turned his attention back to Castiel. “So, uh….”

“Castiel.”

“Castiel,” Dean echoed, trying out the strange name. He wasn’t the first to be confused upon hearing it for the first time, seeing as it wasn’t a very common name. “Even though we’ve known each other for… all this time now, Cas, I get the feeling that I don’t even really know you. Now, I don’t know if that’s because of my constant chattering, which doesn't leave the time to say a single word between to breaths of mine, but since I’m trying to change, I thought, why not lean back and you tell me a little something about yourself.”

Castiel smiled as Dean jokingly downgraded himself in their imaginary relationship to pry something out of him. “What would you like to know?”

“Best you start at the beginning,” Dean prompted.

Castiel nodded slowly, and then started talking. He told Dean pretty much everything he could think of that might be of interest. About his family and the multitude of siblings he had, but how he kept his distance. How he’d moved to Kansas and gotten his job at the KU, how he had an interest in modern languages as well as ancient ones and spoke Spanish, French, and Russian, and was thinking about taking up German but was afraid to lose the skills he’d acquired in the other languages if he started focusing on a new one, since those things needed constant practice.

Somewhere inbetween, they ordered their food and Castiel found out that Dean wasn’t just a good listener, he also had a healthy appetite, which he was obviously trying to mask. It was almost endearing to watch him try to slow down his eating.

Dean didn’t let him talk by himself all the time either, but offered up information about himself too, whenever it fit. He told Castiel about his little brother Sam, who apparently wasn’t as little as he used to be anymore, towering over most grown man by several inches. He talked about how he grew up in Kansas, that he was a car mechanic and that his boss Bobby was practically family. And he talked about his love for Cowboys, for cars, and for food, especially pie.

“I’m telling you, Cas, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried my Mom’s apple pie.” Dean had adapted this new nickname pretty quickly and Castiel didn’t mind. It made sense, and if Castiel was being honest, he liked it. It made a lot more sense to him than ‘Cassie’, which is what Balthazar had used to call him.

When he excused himself to use the toilet, he passed a table with three girls, who had been one of the ones throwing Castiel pitiful glances. He could hear one them whisper to her friends: “For someone like that I would have waited half an hour as well.”

Castiel smiled. Yes, the wait had been worth it.

-

“Alright, should we ask for the check?” Dean asked. Castiel looked around the room. Except for them, there was only one couple remaining and the waitress had already started cleaning up. Castiel nodded and Dean signalled for her to come with the bill. Not two minutes later she returned with the receipt, which Dean insisted on paying, not allowing any protests coming from Castiel.

“After all, I was the one to come half an hour late,” he said, winking at Castiel, who couldn’t believe Dean was still keeping up the charade, just to be charming. But he gave in and let Dean pay.

On their way out, Dean put one hand lightly on Castiel’s back to guide him outside Castiel felt, for the first time since he thought Dean might be a criminal, trying to find cover, a flutter of nervousness in his stomach – this time pleasant and exciting. As soon as they were out the door, Castiel took a deep breath, letting the evening’s cool air tickle his lungs and escape his lips in white puffs. It had cooled down considerable in the last few hours.

Now that they were outside, Castiel felt confident enough to ask the question he’d been hesitant to ask all evening. “Why did you sit down at my table? How did you know? You were just coming in.”

Dean looked almost embarrassed. “Well, to be frank, Charlie called me.

“Charlie?”

Dean gestured back to the restaurant. “The waitress. Short, red-headed nerd? She called me and said there was a sweet guy with a handsome face who’d been stood up by some asshole and who could use someone to share a nice dinner with.”

Castiel was stunned. “And you just came over at that?”

“Well,” Dean shrugged, obviously trying to find an excuse, “I live near by and I was free tonight, so it wasn’t really a bother.”

Castiel paused for a bit, still looking at Dean like he was an especially tricky jigsaw puzzle. “Are you perhaps a Disney prince in disguise?”

Dean laughed out loud at that, relief draining the tension from his posture. “Not exactly, no. Just easily persuadable by my friends.”

Castiel smiled when he saw Dean laugh but he couldn’t help the strong pang of disappointment in his chest. As long as he hadn’t known why Dean had sat down in front of him, he’d been able to pretend as though maybe he’d been interested in Castiel. Now, however, he knew it had been just because he’d looked so pitiful, even the waitress had felt responsible to step in. He didn’t blame her, he was even grateful, knowing his night would have gone a lot differently, but it still hurt.

“And she was right, too,” Dean interrupted his thoughts.

Castiel, having lost the thread of their conversation, furrowed his brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Charlie, she was right. You’re pretty hot.”

The confidence with which Dean paid him the compliment, had Castiel blushing and averting his gaze, not knowing how to respond without sounding like an idiot.

“Now,” Dean continued, “I don’t have a white horse, but I do have a ’67 Chevy Impala, which is about as close at it gets, in my opinion. Can I drive you home?”

This was no pity. Castiel eyed the man in front of him with warmth. Dean might not be a Disney prince but in this moment, he seemed like one to Castiel.

He nodded. “Yes. Yes, I would like that.”

Dean smiled. “Good, I parked right down the street.” He nodded into the general direction and Castiel followed him, arms crossed in front of his chest to protect himself from the cold.

“So,” Dean continued, “you like Disney, huh?”

-

The drive was spent discussing which Disney movies were the best, even though Castiel had to admit that he hadn’t seen many (much to Dean’s horror). Interrupted was their topic only when Castiel gave Dean directions as to where he should drive. Secretly, Castiel wished he’d chosen a restaurant further away from his home, but of course he hadn’t known that this would be how the evening would go.

“Man, I’m telling you, nothing beats Lion King. Not that I’m not giving Bambi the credit it deserves, but who didn’t cry when Mufasa died? I mean, come on! that was cinematic history right there!”

Castiel was amused by Dean’s enthusiasm. He’d never gotten worked up over a movie like that and it was endearing how much Dean seemed to care. “I always liked The Little Mermaid,” Castiel admitted.

Dean nodded in approval of Castiel’s choice. “It’s a good movie. And Ariel is hot. Also, Eric. I had a huge childhood crush on him.” He whistled appreciatingly. “But I’ve always been weak for the whole dark-hair-and-blue-eyes look.” He paused, realizing what he’d just said while Castiel blushed again. “I mean, I wasn’t trying- I didn’t mean- I was just speaking like generally. Not that you don’t look good, I mean, you know you’re good-looking. And I did tell you that I think you’re hot, I was just- I better shut up now.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to blush. It was just a tinge of pink on his throat, barely noticeable, while he stoically stared onto the street. Castiel was surprised to see him fumbling like that, after he’d paid his last compliment with so much confidence. But he supposed it was one thing to tell someone you find them attractive and another thing to admit that they look like your fictional childhood crush.

Castiel decided to help Dean out. “I’ve always been partial to green eyes, myself.”

Dean seemed to relax a little at that. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Castiel assured him and was rewarded with another smile of Dean’s.

Dean parked impeccably, almost right in front of Castiel’s front door and pulled the hand break. As soon as they were standing, he was already out of the car, before Castiel had even had the chance to undo his seat belt. Dean walked around the car to open Castiel’s door for him.

Castiel blinked, surprised but pleasantly so. “Thank you.”

“Well, now that I’ve got the reputation of a Disney prince, I gotta work to keep that up, right?” Dean joked.

“I don’t think you will have any trouble to do so, Dean,” Castiel responded truthfully, and got out of the car. The cold evening air, momentarily forgotten in the heated car, hit him again and he shivered.

Dean walked him the last few steps to his front door, where Castiel fidgeted with his keys a little. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything. I really enjoyed tonight.”

He looked Dean directly in the eyes, making sure the other man knew how sincere he was being.

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, me too, Cas.”

For a long time nothing happened, except for them looking at each other, neither of them daring to make a move.

It was Dean’s voice that broke the silence first: “I, uh, I should probably head home now.”

Castiel didn’t break eye contact. “Probably,” he said, his voice breathy.

“Good night.” Dean’s voice was equally low and raspy.

“Good night,” Castiel echoed.

Still, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Dean leaned forward, hesitant. Castiel didn’t dare move, barely even to breathe. Dean’s mouth was so unbelievably close that his breath tickled Castiel’s face. It smelled of beer and lasagne from the restaurant, just like Castiel knew his breath did too, but there was also the smell of leather and gasoline that emanated from Dean. He could see every last freckle on his face. After hesitating in front of Castiel’s lips for a second, he moved to his cheek instead, placing a soft kiss on the dark stubble.

Everything in Castiel’s head was spinning. Had he done something wrong? Should he have moved and encouraged Dean to go in for a proper kiss? Had he not been sending the right signals? He wasn’t exactly a specialist when it came to social encounters and things like that happened easily to him. Panicking, he reached for Dean, who was already leaning back again, grapped him by the lapel of his leather jacket and dragged him back in, pressing his mouth onto his with determination. Only, in his haste he missed by about half an inch, placing it right next to Dean’s lips instead. Luckily, the mistake was quickly corrected, Dean reacting almost immediately to Castiel. He chuckled lowly and placed one hand against Castiel’s neck, his fingertips ghosting the strands of dark hair, while he opened his mouth to allow a deeper kiss.

Eventually they parted, both breathing heavily. Dean’s pupils were widened, his lips swollen. Castiel just examined his face in every detail, oddly mesmerised by the beauty of it. Dean still had his hand on Castiel’s neck, Castiel still had his fingers clawed around Dean’s lapels as though he wanted to drown in his jacket, and they were still standing impossibly close.

When Dean spoke, his voice was raspy, cracking a little in the beginning before he cleared his throat. “I, uh, I wanted to ask if maybe you’d like to… to go out with me sometime. More in the planned date sorta way.”

Castiel smiled and placed another, more innocent kiss on the corners of Dean’s mouth. “I’d love that.”

“Okay.” Slowly, Dean separated himself from Castiel, taking a small step back so he had the space to reach into his pockets. Castiel almost closed the space instinctually but caught himself at the last second.

Dean patted his pockets. “Shit, I think I forgot my phone in my car.” What he found instead, was a pen in his breast pocket. Reaching for Castiel’s hand, he scribbled eleven squiggly numbers on the back of it. He examined his work before pocketing his pen again and turning back around to Castiel to pull him into one last kiss. It was dirty, and slobby, and perfect.

“Call me,” Dean he murmured, his voice having dropped even deeper.

On his way back to his car, Dean turned around one last time, smiling. Castiel watched him drive away before unlocking his door and walking up to his flat. A heat had settled in Castiel, both comforting and exciting.

God, he’d never been so happy to have been stood up.