Perfect (Ed Sheeran - Beyonce): A Dean and Cas Story. PART ONE
“I guess he’s here finally,” Sam called out to his brother, hearing the knock on the door, preceded by the doorbell.
Dean huffed, stood up, and marched back to his room. “Tell him I’ll be out in a minute.”
*
Castiel heard muffled voices inside, as he stood stoically outside the door - well, trying to be stoic and normal - holding his hands in front of himself like a soldier in training. He cleared his throat, knowing the brothers inside were probably saying something about him. If he were still an angel, he might’ve been able to know what they’d been talking about, with his ‘Bugs-Bunny’ ears as Dean called them one day. Well, if he were an angel, he would’ve flown into the Bunker library, instead of taking the subway and then walking the half mile up to the Bunker. But, Castiel pushed those depressing thoughts out of his mind, before they could spoil his mood - that happened surprisingly quickly, now that he was a human - and smiled. It was not that hard to smile either; he’d found himself smiling a lot more now, at the smallest of matters. And Dean, and thoughts of Dean, had never failed to make him smile, even before he fell.
It was their first outing together, as a couple. Castiel had asked Dean out on a date - well, technically, it had been Gabriel putting words in his mouth, literally, but he’d meant it completely - and Dean had agreed as quick as lightening. Castiel had been surprised; he’d been expecting an awkward negative answer, but had still mustered up the courage and asked Gabriel for help. And then Dean had said yes, as simple as that, and hugged Castiel for added measures, and Castiel had been in the best mood since the Apocalypse, all week.
He was planning to take Dean to a diner he knew Dean would like - it had burgers and pies and beer, and Castiel knew what Dean liked - and although he secretly had imagined taking Dean to an expensive French restaurant, or something that pretty, he knew he couldn’t afford it, and didn’t want to have to ask the brothers for their fake credit cards again. Gabriel, being Gabriel, had offered to conjure up the perfect date settings, whatever Castiel wanted, a whole island to themselves, a ball where they were the only ones invited, perhaps even 50 dates in a single night, like the movie Castiel had really liked. But Castiel had refused. He knew Dean wouldn’t mind having dinner in a small hole-in-the-wall diner, as long as there was good unhealthy food, and senseless music Dean could sing along t-
“Hey, Cas-” Sam opened the door, but stood with his mouth open, staring unblinkingly at Castiel in disbelief. “Dude, what are you wearing?”
Castiel shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. He managed a smile. “A tuxedo.” He pronounced, wiping his sweaty hands on the sides of his pants and blinking disconcertedly. “Why?” He might’ve denied Gabriel from helping him out with planning the date, but Gabriel had forced Castiel to allow him to set up an outfit. And Castiel had given in, and Gabriel had whisked them off to some 'Armani’s, NYC’, where people had been extremely well-mannered, and had set him up with what he was wearing. 'A double-breasted Italian-style tuxedo, primarily enamel black, with elegant grey satin lapels and a perfect bow’, Gabriel had announced when Castiel had walked out of the dressing room, and had added a, 'You look awesome, li'l bro’, after taking a good look at the suit which gave his shoulders more definition, shirt which pronounced his lean chiselled chest, and pants which fitted him like second skin. “Is this not what I am supposed to wear, Sam?” Castiel added, concernedly.
“Not unless you’re the one walking down the aisle.” Sam sighed, and moved to a side, allowing Castiel to enter. He walked in behind him, noticing how impassively Castiel walked. “Who put you up to this?”
“Gabriel.” The one-word answer was enough for Sam.
Sam shook his head. “This doesn’t look like it’s from the tailor round the corner. I should’ve guessed Gabriel was behind it.” Sam smiled a bit, still straining to not burst out laughing at just how ready-to-be-married Castiel looked, and how a small disappointed frown had worked it’s way on his lips. “Paris?” He guessed.
“Armani’s, NYC.” Castiel replied, smally. “Is Dean not going to like it?”
Sam’s eyes widened, and a reassuring smile instantly appeared. “Oh, of course he is! He’s gonna love it, Cas! It’s just that, it’s not very 'Castiel’ as Dean knows you,” Sam tried to coax his best friend into looking like the nervous and flustered but excited little kid he’d looked like before, and not like the dejected man, with the insufferable what-will-Dean-think scowl. “And you’ve gotta admit, it’s not very 'Steve from Gas 'n Sip’ either. But I can tell that he’s gonna love your new look.”
Castiel looked up at Sam. “Where’s he? Where is Dean?”
Sam grinned. “He’ll be with you in a minute. He was waiting for you here, but when you knocked, he bounded up to his room like some kind of a shy fifteen-year-old going on a first date with his crush and told me to tell you that he’ll be out in a minute.” Sam furrowed his brow. “That’s pretty much true actually, except he’s double that age.” He lowered his voice and added, with a chuckle, “Don’t tell him I told you his real age, I’m kinda overstepping limits here.”
Castiel smiled, feeling more comfortable now. “Well, comparing it to the several aeons I’ve lived, it’s not much at all.”
“He’s not here, you 'can’ talk crap about him.” Sam whispered back.
“But I don’t want to.” Castiel tilted his head to the left slightly, blinking, almost confused at the mention of 'crap about Dean’.
Sam sighed. He loved his brother a lot, and admired his skills and everything about him, but he knew Castiel was almost devoted to Dean in a way he’d never be - Brothers aren’t supposed to speak aloud that they think the other is perfect, even if that’s true - and that it was useless to even crack such jokes around him. “Forget about it.” He waved his hand in air dismissively. “Oh, hey, I forgot to mention, Dean’s likely to have his panties in a knot, so beware.”
Castiel scowled again. “You mean,” he paused and considered it. “He might be cranky.”
“Even more so than usual.” Sam shrugged. “You see, you’re about,” Sam glanced at the huge clock on the wall. “About forty minutes late. In 'Dean’ language, you stood him up.” Sam hastened to explain at Castiel’s confused face. “That means, you ditched him on the date, you know, didn’t show up.”
“I would never do that.” Castiel’s eyes widened, the blue in them sparkling, almost agitatedly. “I was not aware that I was late! I am,” Castiel looked at his feet, almost embarrassed. “I am not really accustomed to taking the subway,” he pronounced the word like it was alien to him. “And I never realised I got late.”
“In your defense, you don’t have a watch.” Sam scrunched his nose. “So don’t worry,” Sam reassured him again. “Dean is not gonna be the infamous 'angry’ Dean, he’s just gonna be mildly angry. So you keep giving him those puppy eyes, hug him once or twice, and you’ll be good.”
Castiel nodded, considering Sam’s words seriously. “Thank you, Sam.”
Suddenly, Dean came walking out, dressed in his favourite red plaid shirt over a black T-shirt and regular jeans, the only difference in his appearance being the huge smile which was plastered all over his face, which was a pretty unusual occurrence for Dean nowadays. He stopped mid-track, entering the library, as his eyes fell on Castiel, an almost bewildered expression on his face.
Castiel was not aware that he was turning pinker by the second, only realising, surprisingly that his cheeks were warm, and that he felt strangely weird, almost feeling Dean’s eyes go all over him. When he finally looked up from the ground, he discovered that Sam had left the room already, and Dean was still fixed where he was standing.
Remembering what Sam had said, he began walking towards Dean, judging Dean’s stillness to be a show of his anger rather than something else. “Hello, Dean.” He spoke, with a smile, walking closer to his favourite person on Earth, and engulfing him in a hug. The feelings which were much more balanced and calculated when he was an angel, and which came much more by force, and passionately, now that he was a human, flooded him.
Wrapping his hand around Dean, he buried his chin as he always did on Dean’s shoulder, and smiled even more feeling Dean slowly hug him back. The familiar scent of Dean almost overpowered his senses as they withhold the hug for a moment - Castiel had always loved hugging Dean, it was one of the most genuine displays of affection to him - and then pulled back, Castiel still smiling broadly, at the man whom he thought to be the most beautiful man ever, whom he loved and had no qualms in admitting thus for, and Dean replying with a similar look.
I found a Love, for me,
Darling just dive right in,
Follow my lead.
“Dean,” Castiel spoke gently, as if not wanting to break the fragile feeling of love which still lingered in the atmosphere. “I apologize that I am late.”
Dean grinned, one of his infectious, casual grins which lit up his face. “Let me guess,” He spoke in his usual deep voice, “You got lost?” He tried.
“No, I didn’t, Dean.” Castiel pursed his lips, still speaking softly, and slowly, as he looked affectionately at Dean, at every aspect of him, partly to check if he was alright, partly because Dean was extremely beautiful to Castiel, and he loved watching him. “I know my way to your house very well.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re here.” It was almost as if a single hug had won Dean over. Then, once again, as if snapping out of a reverie into which the physical contact with Castiel had put him into, the slightly amused and slightly bewildered look returned. “Wait a second, why are you dressed in a tux like that, Cas?”
Castiel sighed. “I was not aware this is not first date attire, Dean.” He confessed, ducking his head shyly, and a smile sprouting on Dean’s lips at the adorable display of shyness. “I now do, Sam told me, and I’m sorry for 'showing up in this’.”
“Don’t be sorry, dude,” Dean smiled. “You don’t look bad! I mean, it’s more of a wear if you’re at your own wedding, but…” Dean’s voice trailed off, as he added in almost a whisper. “You look amazing in it, Cas.”
Castiel smiled yet again. “Thank you, Dean.”
“Where did you get it?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. Castiel smiled inwardly, as he rightly guessed that Dean was only asking because he was the one Castiel did all shopping with, and Dean certainly didn’t buy him a suit like that.
“Gabriel took me to Armani, New York City.” Castiel admitted truthfully.
“NYC?” Dean feigned anger. “So, you kept me waiting here while you were out shopping for wedding tuxes in the big City of Dreams, huh?”
“I am sorry, Dean, I had no idea I was late, and that you were waiting for me.” Castiel looked down at his feet again.
He felt Dean’s hands on his biceps, squeezing them to make Castiel grin. “It’s not that big a deal with you. You’re worth it.”
Well, I found a Love, beautiful and sweet,
I never knew you were the someone,
Waiting for me.
Castiel smiled, even broader, as he stared into Dean’s apple-green eyes, admiring just how gorgeous they were, and how beautiful his face looked, when he smiled directly at Castiel. He had been in the middle of his reverie, when, Dean broke the silence.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Dean grinned, clearly having noticed how Castiel’s eyes bore into Dean. “Last time someone - hell, who am I kidding - last time 'you’ looked at me like that, I got laid.” Dean winked.
Castiel furrowed his brow and frowned, displeased at the snide mention of the past. It still disturbed him. He’d still been an angel when it had happened; an unfeeling angel. It was supposedly their last night on Earth, and they’d spent it…well, having sex with each other. Back then too, Castiel had found Dean beautiful and his soul unusually bright, but he had not yet been in love with the hunter. Maybe he had, he himself didn’t know for sure, all he knew was that it had been dreadful. A mistake, as Dean put it the following morning. It had been one of the first times, Castiel had felt something deep, something profound in his heart. But he’d not acted on it. Neither had Dean.
Soon after, Dean had had the whole thing with Lisa, and Castiel had had April, and then Dean had had an asston of more meaningless girls and saving the World, and Castiel had been too busy trying not to fuck up the World (and fucking it up unintentionally in his own noble ways). They’d not worked on the spark, and given up. And Castiel hated being reminded of it, now that he was so sure that he was in love with Dean Winchester.
Frankly, to Castiel at the moment, it didn’t even matter if Dean knew that Castiel was not just asking him out, but that he was completely and unequivocally in love with him, let alone if Dean loved him back. What mattered was that he loved Dean, and that was the end of it. At least this time, he knew it.
So, obviously, a sarcastic mention of the past irked him up. Unintentionally intensifying the look, he frowned. “Dean, I’ve told you before that I do not want to talk about that.” He shyly looked down at his feet. “You know that I am still per-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean shook his head dismissively. “I’m sorry, okay? If it makes you feel better, I do not mind you looking at me that way.”
Castiel rolled his eyes, a hesitant smile forming on his lips easily. It was too easy to feel…good when he was with Dean. To feel comfortable, to feel at home. He didn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way around someone. “Dean.” He merely gave for a reply.
“Uh-uh?” Dean smiled even broader, the smile making his green eyes sparkle. “Yeah, Cas?”
Castiel breathed out slowly, finding himself lost in those beautiful eyes as he stared into them. He could no longer look inside him when he did it, but he liked to feel as if he did, and saw all the brightness which Dean was. “Even if something like that were to happen again,” Castiel couldn’t believe he was actually blurting out stuff like that. “It would not be followed by what happened the last time.”
“Yeah, this time, you’ll make me pancakes in the morning.” Dean chuckled, his eyes showing that he understood what Castiel had been trying to convey; words, otherwise.
“I do not know how to make pancakes, Dean.” Castiel replied, sincerely.
“Well, then, I’ll have to be the one making pancakes and you can be the one lying naked on the bed, exhausted after our morning quickie, as I feed them to you.” Dean blinked, his eyes wide with false innocence. He could’ve been reciting verses from the Bible, by just how sincere he looked.
Castiel blushed a deep red. “I meant that this time it’ll be more stable, more definite.” He clarified, clearing his throat. “That we will do our profound bond justice, and not rush into, well…”
“Bed?” Dean offered.
“Yes.”
“Well, I feel you. Let’s just take it slow this time,” Dean put another arm on Castiel’s shoulder. “I know we’ll be good. You’re not getting away from me this time, and I’m not gonna be pushing you away either.”
'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love,
Not knowing what it was,
I will not give you up this time.
“Good.” Castiel nodded his head a bit, and they stood in solemn silence for a while. It resembled the kind of silence which followed an oath, rather than one preceding a storm, and Castiel smiled, knowing the silence was because it was the huge matter which they’d brushed aside, and took decisions on. “I would like that.”
“And you know what I would’ve liked?” Dean broke into another one of his beautifully effortless smiles, like a stroke of paint on Picasso’s canvas. Castiel prompted him to answer his own question with an uptilt of his head. “To surprise you by taking you to minigolf after dinner. But 'no!’” Dean squinted as he dramatically rolled his eyes and crooked his lips in an exaggerated scowl. “Somebody was too busy tux-shopping to be here on time!?”
Castiel knew Dean wasn’t really angry any longer; he was no longer an Angel but he would still have felt it radiate from Dean. So, he gave his head a curious tilt. “I do not know what minigolf is, Dean.” He spoke, blinking.
Dean almost broke into a smile, but stopped himself in time, because a smile like the one Dean reserved for the angel would’ve depicted anything but anger. “Well, honey, you’d know if you’d come here in time to keep my reservations!” He spoke in a high falsetto.
Castiel smiled smally. “You mean, after dinner at the diner, you were going to take me golfing.”
“Ugh, wrong!” Dean shook his head, an almost proud look seeping into his demeanor. “After 'snacks’ at the diner, I was gonna take you 'mini’ golfing,” Dean corrected, and Castiel dimpled. “And then we’d have dinner at J. Wilson’s, and drinks at Genovese, before returning to your new place.” Dean almost blushed, at how closely Castiel was peering into him, almost as if trying to confirm if Dean was being sincere or sarcastic. “Where we could pro'lly talk and just chill, or watch '50 First Dates’ or some sappy chickflick like that…whatever you want.”
“Wow, Dean.” Castiel praised. “You clearly planned it very well.”
Dean almost tossed his head at the praise, the red in his cheeks subsided. “I couldn’t very well let you have the privilege of completely getting to organise our first date, could I?”
Castiel almost shied away at the adoration with which Dean said 'our first date’. “I’m so sorry for turning up late.” He breathed tentatively. “Can we at least do some of the things you listed?”
Dean rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “You don’t start driving from the third gear.” Castiel caught the drift of it, thankfully. “We’re already late for minigolf and dinner. That plan is totally checked off for tonight.”
Castiel felt Dean’s face fall, just as it’d lit up when he’d been talking about all that he’d planned they’d do. He felt a human emotion surge through him, one he hadn’t felt much before - except perhaps the once or twice when the World seemed to be definitely ending, or the brothers’ life was in danger - panic. He needed to make things alright. Somehow, he needed to save the date. Taking Dean out to the diner, which obviously didn’t need reservations and they could go to anytime, would be something of a anticlimax after all what Dean had listed. And plus, Castiel wanted - needed - that smile to return. It had been so amazing seeing his face literally brighten, as his beautiful eyes sparkled in the coloured lights, his freckles almost made him even more handsome, sprinkled along the bridge of his nose and cheeks, his perfect bow-like lips as beautifully pink as ever, and drawn upwards from the sides to show his teeth, his face a picture to draw indeed as he basked in Castiel’s praise and his own delight, laid-back, reassured, and truly, truly, happy. He needed that smile back. And fast. His mind whirred up, his brain conjuring up every memory to somehow think up some good date, something which Dean would enjoy, not bothering if it would be cliche. Suddenly, he got an idea.
“Dean!” Castiel spoke enthusiastically. “What if we were to continue our date here?”
“Uh,” Dean furrowed his brow. “Whad'dya mean?”
“I mean,” Castiel was excited. “We could spend the rest of the night here itself. And we would have lots of fun!”
“Doing what?” Dean furrowed his brow, slightly pessimistic. “Cleaning guns? Target practise?”
“Whatever you want,” Castiel once again misunderstood Dean’s sarcasm. “But I have something in mind to start things with.” He took in a deep breath, understanding what he was going to propose was going to seem weird at the least, but he knew from having watched countless movies and shows with Dean, and Sam, (separately, because the two would never have each other know they watch that kind of movies), that it was an incredibly romantic gesture. “Dean, do you have any records?”
Dean’s lips twisted in a crooked smile. “You mean, CDs?”
Castiel nodded dismissively. “Yes, CDs. Do you have any good songs?”
Dean began walking towards a wooden cabinet and shoved it open to reveal tons of colorful CDs. “The best.” He declared, his eyes streaming through the labels.
Castiel took in a breath. “Do you have any of the kind to which people dance?” He volunteered, and Dean understandingly twirled around on his heel and looked at Castiel with a weird look on his face. Castiel managed to not shy away under his unconscious-smolder. “Something…” Castiel thought about it. “Slow and romantic.”
Dean turned again, but Castiel could see his muscles tense, even beneath the layers as he picked out a couple of CDs. “These might work.” He said, walking back to Castiel and handing them to Castiel, quickly adding, “They’re Sam’s, so I can’t guarantee perfect quality like I can about my stuff.” Too quickly.
Castiel resisted from adding that he knew Dean well enough to tell when he was telling a lie like that, and browsed through the records in his hand. His own courage astonished him as he handed Dean 'Amazed’ and breathed out a, “This one.”
Dean turned again, wordlessly, and put it into the player. He pressed a couple of buttons on the remote, and the song begun. Castiel drew up all of his courage, and it could’ve been his true desire to do it somewhere deep inside, that he walked up to Dean, as casually as he could, and held out his right hand.
Dean’s eyes widened again, although it was kind of anticipated. “Cas?” He smiled a little, as if amazed at the gesture.
“Dean.” Castiel replied, and added an unnecessary, “Will you Dance with me?”, as Dean had already taken his hand with his left and was beginning to tighten his fingers around the grip. Castiel smiled like he’d never smiled before. “Thank you.”
“You’re awesome, Cas.” Dean merely muttered, taking the lead now, and putting a hand half-around Castiel’s middle, and deftly changing their held-hands-grip to an entwined-fingers-grip, like the one partners doing the slow dance have. Castiel, almost immediately and unthinkingly, wrapped his own arm around Dean’s waist, his hand settling at the small of his back, and pleasantly holding Dean in that manner.
They stood for an awkward moment, just quietly, as if rejoicing the progress, before, Castiel regained the lead, and began tapping his foot to the beat. “I do not know how to dance.” He admitted, after a minute, after they’d begun to sway with the music, their eyes not leaving each other’s eyes.
“Aren’t you the one who…” Dean’s voice trailed off. “'Initiated’ this though?”
“That’s just because-”
He was cut off by Dean. “Forget about it. I’m glad you did anyways.” He smiled broader. “And don’t worry. I’ll lead, you follow.” They were full-fledged moving from one side to the other now, arms warmly around each others tightening, and growing more comfortable with easy beat.
“Is this it?” Castiel asked, after the song had finished and begun to play once more, and Dean and he had been doing the same step all through, taking a step forward, then following with the other and then doing the same thing to the back, and then to the left, and then to the right.
“No, there’s a lot more.” Dean grinned, almost wolfishly. He unexpectedly moved away from Castiel, tapped his foot thrice, and returned to their original position with his hand around a surprised Castiel. “That’s one. Then there’s this,” he proceeded to demonstrate another step, before again returning to Castiel. “There’s more too.” He winked once, before suddenly dipping Castiel to the back, fastening both his hands like a belt behind Castiel. Castiel returned to his original position, his expression bewildered, and a bit scared. “That’s one of my favorite.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
