Tags: mutual pining, established relationship, secret relationship, smart Dean, misunderstandings
Summary: Dean and Cas have been meeting up, and hooking up, at the New York Antiquarian Book Fair for going on ten years. Just when Dean thinks they might be able to evolve into something more, Cas drops some news that could spell the end of their relationship once and for all. Will their personal and professional lives keep pulling them apart, or can they make this crazy long distance, cross country casual affair into a commitment worth fighting for? Featuring Dean as a counter-culture bookseller with an encyclopedic knowledge of 20th century duplicating technologies and Cas as a beleaguered curator plagued by library bureaucracy.
literally why didn’t Dean have any tattoos btw. you expect me to believe he spent all that time alone in Stanford era and didn’t blow his cash on cheap flashes just to feel something? you expect me to believe he isn’t absolutely inked tf out???? impossible
Dean smacks his forehead against the steering wheel a few times in dramatic flair for absolutely nobody else but himself. He left Sam behind this time saying he was going to get food, playing it off as an excuse to avoid helping Bobby organize all his paperwork for Singer’s Auto Salvage.
For some reason (a reason he knows good and well), he pulled up to the dreaded McDonald’s he swore he would never return to. (That promise lasted like a day.) And now he sits in the parking lot trying to figure out what the fuck he’s doing here.
What is his plan here?
Walk in there and order a burger? Hope that the cute guy is there to take his order again? Hope he doesn’t fuck it up and embarass himself again? And if all of that magically falls in his favor, then what? Ask for his number and hope he doesn’t get a restraining order? Or punch him? And if he says yes, is he supposed to now date this guy? Take him back to meet Sam?
Hey, Sam, this is the smartass that shoved a fuck ton of maraschino cherries into the lid of my milkshake and was the reason I got cherry juice fucking everywhere.
Dean shivers at the memory.
Anyway, the asshole is my boyfriend now.
Dean chokes. This is all too much.
He hasn’t even left the car yet.
In one swift motion, Dean turns off the Impala and swings the door open and shoves his way out, before he convinces himself to eat elsewhere.
The restaurant smells like grease and the floors are wet and sticky next to a bright yellow wet floor sign. The restaurant isn’t crowded. There are a few people sitting at tables but no line at the register at the moment.
And behind the register, is Cas, wearing two fucking hats again. One forward, one backward. Part of Dean is relieved to see him, the other half was kinda hoping he wouldn’t be working and Dean can blame his complacency on a shitty work schedule.
But he’s there. Hands on either side of the register, unmoving. His eyes staring at Dean.
This was a fucking mistake.
Dean twirls his key once before shoving it in his pocket for something to do with his hand, thenplacing a confident grin on his face and striding over to the register, maneuvering through the stanchions.
Cas’ eyes don’t leave his. When he gets to the register to order he begins to backtrack his plan. Chances are Cas doesn’t remember him. Why would he? He probably sees hundreds of customers daily and he knows, working in food service, they all blur together. Cas won’t remember Dean’s face much less his name.
This is so fucking stupid. Just order a burger to go.
“Hello, Dean.” His name sounds just like it did the day before. Deep and gravelly. The first thing he ever heard him say, and fuck.
He remembered his name.
Dean’s mouth opens and closes a few times, searching for something to say and not look like a complete dumbass, again.
Cas takes his hesitancy as confusion and points to Dean’s chest. “Sorry, your name is right there,” he says, self-consciously.
Dean looks down as if he didn’t know what he was wearing (he didn’t). Oh, right. His name tag displayed right on his coveralls right under “Singer’s”. Cas didn’t remember his name, he just read his fucking name tag.
Right.
“How can I help you?” Cas says, patiently, thrumming his hand on the edge of the screen, his eyes not leaving Dean’s despite the awkwardness thickening between them.
“Uh, big mac with bacon.”
Cas types it on the screen. “No milkshake with an ungodly amount of cherries, today?”
Dean chokes. He does remember!
He fucking remembers. Fuck.
Dean chuckles. “Heh. No, uh. Not today. Or ever.” Then he jokes, “But can we eighty-six the lettuce?”
Cas looks up from the screen and glares at Dean.
“Or not. Uh, however it comes is fine.” He can pick off the lettuce. Even though it’s difficult because they have it chopped in small pieces instead of one leaf.
Cas looks satisfied as he finishes ringing up his order, asking him if he wants fries and a non-dessert cherry-free beverage. He does.
He stands to the side to wait for his order after receiving his change. He finds himself busy searching the condiment stand for anything to keep him from watching Cas work, but can’t help but watch the way Cas interacts with the next guests, and the way he methodically stocks cups. And the way his hands move across the screen as he types shit in. He watches Cas disappear in the back after asking his coworker to watch the front.
Alright, Dean is borderline stalkerish now.
He high-tails it out the second his bag is in his hand and pulls out the parking lot at an embarrassing speed to escape and promises himself he is never doing that again.
He considers all McDonald’s restaurants off his list of usual grub stops, even on roadtrips. Can’t risk it. Sam will be happy at least.
He manages to make it back to Bobby’s before he shoves his forehead into the steering wheel again. Before resigning to eat his lettuce inclusive Big Mac, full of disappointment and humiliation.
He unwraps the burger to find it surprisingly, lettuce free. And he might be imagining it but he thinks there is extra bacon, too.
Confused, he digs in the bag and finds a small box of their apple pie, which he definitely didn’t order, with a phone number scribbled on it.
Dean smiles and immediately abandons the burger in favor of the pie. It was a gift, sue him.
Coming back sometimes means coming undone. Cas has a body now, just the one, for the rest of his life. He must learn to live in it, to heal. Jack deserves that. Dean needs that. If the words must go unsaid, he’ll paint them into his skin.
Blackwater Lakes by @caskarass
~
He's human, but his body is the altar of Dean's worship.
He managed being abandoned as a child and then placed in an abusive home. He managed his adoptive father going to prison when his aunt and godmother finally surfaced. And now, at twenty-five, he’s managing going to college and while working the graveyard shift at Chaney’s 24-Hour Laundromat in the icy town of Leadville, Colorado.
Life is manageable until one night a man covered in blood shows up at the laundromat, and instead of calling the police, Cas decides to handle it himself. Except this guy, one Dean Winchester, can’t exactly be handled. Against all odds, he and Cas form an unsteady friendship, and for once, Cas has someone to talk to about everything he’s managing.
The only problem?
Cas doesn’t really know who Dean is. And as it turns out, he doesn’t really know himself, either.
Link to fic | Link to art
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, canon-typical violence
Louisiana-based photographer Frank Relle captures the nighttime magic of New Orleans in his ongoing series New Orleans Nightscapes. He uses long exposures to capture the feeling of the powerful, haunting beauty throughout his hometown.
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