Destiel A/U ~ Collaboration between Devaun & Grace
Rating: PG-13 (so far)
Dean's a drug-addict and Castiel's a cop :)
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Dean wiped his nose across a leather sleeve as he warily replaced a small, plastic bag back into his jean’s front pocket. His green eyes peeped out from the alleyway and checked both directions before coming out onto the sidewalk. He didn’t think he was being watched but he was always suspicious after he took a hit. Dean lifted a water bottle from a food vendor casually when she wasn’t looking. He supposed he could have just as easily paid for it but he couldn’t help his sly fingers. Besides, it was water for Christ’s sake and who would pay for that? After a few large gulps of the Aquafina, Dean’s thirst was quenched and he tossed the bottle into the street where a cab flattened it.
Dean slipped into a booth of the tacky, little diner he was meeting his brother Sam. Sam was already there, sipping nonchalantly on coffee and reading the morning paper.
“Hey Sammy,” Dean smiled at his little brother. Well, little by age; Sam was a whole five inches taller than Dean and Sam never let him forget it. When Sam finally started beating him at wrestling was after his growth spurt and he could pin him with his long legs. Sam folded the newspaper and smiled at Dean.
“Hello Dean,” Sam said happily. A waitress placed two plates in front of them; one with a small stack of pancakes the other with eggs and a heavy portion of breakfast meat.
“Aw, my favorite. Thanks Sammy,” Dean beamed. With a sausage link peeping out of his mouth he asked how everything was going. The brothers met once a week, Tuesday mornings, for breakfast. Sam said schooling at Stanford was going great though his White Collar Crime professor was an asshole. Then he excitedly pulled out a ring box from his jacket pocket and said he was going to ask Jessica to marry him on Friday night. Dean noticed the ring wasn’t their mother’s.
“Dude, you have to use mom’s ring. I’ll get it from dad’s if you’re too busy-”
“No, man, you’re the older brother, you should get it,” Sam argued but Dean held up his hand.
“Dude, I’m not even dating anyone. Besides, whoever I do decide can tame this,” Dean chuckled gesturing to himself haughtily, “isn’t gonna want a girl’s ring anyways.”
Sam smiled and shortly hugged his brother goodbye; he was going to be late for Chemistry. Dean paid for their breakfast and caught Sam quickly before he left.
“Almost forgot,” Dean pulled out an envelope. “Your allowance.” Dean smirked at his pun.
“Dean, I’ve told you before I can do without your money,” Sam hesitated. Truthfully, getting a law degree was super expensive for Sam and trying to find an apartment or even a house with Jessica wasn’t much cheaper.
“I don’t need it. What, do you want me to blow my nose with it? Take it.” Dean shoved it in his brother’s hands and clapped him on the shoulder before leaving the diner.
“Thanks!” Sam yelled after him as he strolled down the street. Dean threw back a wave and replaced his hand in his pocket. He immediately wanted another hit. Dean shirked into the first alley he came to.
~
The alarm clock blared, and Castiel opened one eye blearily to look at its flashing red numbers, squinting to block out the sun. He thought the clock said 2:00 PM, which is what he’d set it for, and normally people wouldn’t be so tired at two in the afternoon, but Castiel hadn’t gotten to bed until around 9:00 AM. One of the joys of being on constant call is that in addition to never knowing when he’ll be needed for a bust or a rescue or anything like that, he also never knows the details until he’s arriving on the scene. Castiel loved his job; loved being a warrior for justice, but God is it hard sometimes.
Finally, the grating noise was a greater annoyance to Castiel than his lack of sleep, and he sat up slowly, smacking the clock and hitting the Snooze button purely by chance since his eyes were still closed. He rubbed his eyes, and then scratched his face while he blinked to get his eyes accustomed to sunlight. Stretching his arms over his head, he then laid back on the bed and arched himself up away from the bed, listening to his joints crack and pop; this was a daily routine, one that he had to do otherwise he would be cracking joints all day. There was a pun of some sort in that sentence, but Castiel wasn’t quite up to finding it yet.
He padded into his bathroom and shucked his pants while he turned the water on and waited for it to heat up. Examining his face in the mirror, he said in a gravelly voice, “You look like a mess. No wonder she left you.” He didn’t know why he liked to torture himself like this, but she had been his everything, and he’d thought that they’d be together forever, or as close to it as they could get. He’d thought that until last week when he’d come home to find it almost completely empty - a reminder of how little he owned for himself - and a note that said nothing other than, “I’m sorry.”
Castiel was sorry, too. He blinked a couple of times and then got into the shower, letting the hot water soak into his skin and hair, breathing heavily in the steam and mist. As he scrubbed himself down, he began mentally going through the things he had to do today. As always, he was on call, but he wasn’t expecting anything to happen today; days like these were usually when he got called in for something especially bad.
Finally, he felt able to step out of the shower, and grabbed a towel blindly, though this time it was to keep water out of his eyes. Walking out into the kitchen, Castiel noticed his phone’s screen flashing. Groaning, he picked it up and unlocked it, seeing that he had a text message. When he opened it, it said:
-Capt. says u didnt do any paperwork & hes pissed. U’d better come asauc (as soon as u can) & do it. -AM-
“At least it isn’t a case,” Castiel said with a sigh, rubbing the towel in his hair and noticing his cat, Jimmy, looking at him. “You’ve got an automatic feeder, don’t give me that look,” Castiel told him. Jimmy just blinked, and Castiel sighed, scratching behind his ears for a couple of seconds before going back into his room and starting to pick out an outfit. Back to the grindstone.
~
Dean snorted the last bit of his stash and he sighed in both satisfaction and dismay. Honestly, Dean didn't care for looking for more supply. He always changed dealers and there were plenty being as he lived so close to the Mexican Border. He didn't like to rely on any one person for his drugs nor did he want to be connected to a single dealer in case it led to him being caught by the fuzz. Dean checked his watch: 7 p.m. If he wandered enough he could probably get to the bar he usually found a dealer in about eight. Dean brushed a hand through his hair and scratched his scalp. He watched his shadow, hands in his pockets, on the sidewalk of the muggy side San Diego.
He kicked the doorframe as he slugged into Hal's Bar. It wasn't crowded yet but Dean preferred it not to be when he first got there. He preferred to see people come in, observe them, make out who's someone he wants to be talking to. Fortunately for Dean, he didn't have to do much work tonight. He had frequented this bar since his last buy and already had observed the dealer that worked this area. The dealer had straggly hair that he wasn't quite sure what color it was; he always wore ripped jeans and a stained shirt and Dean wasn't too apt of approaching him tonight because he was sure he did not smell good. But he knew he had to. He ordered a beer and sat in a corner booth, angled at the entrance.
After about 20 minutes his guy came in and sat down on a stool at the bar. Dean was about to stand when a red head took the seat next to him. Her smile was wide as she spoke to the dealer and her curls bounced as she sat next to him, one knee over the other in sleek, black dress. Dean knew the people who came in here, knew that one, she was too rich to be drinking on this side of town and two, a hot broad like that would not be talking to dirt like him unless she was blind. She was a cop. Dean grit his teeth and rolled his eyes at the stupidity of the dealer as he played into her scheme of catching him red-handed. He really didn't want to get involved with a cop around but he didn't want to lose the dealer he had been working on using either. Dean figured that he could distract the gal so the dealer would leave and corner him later to sell him some drugs; then he didn't care if the idiot got arrested.
Dean wasn't going to go in blind though; he looked around the bar for any others that didn't seem to quite fit. And of course, there was one, and he was staring directly across at the dealer and the red head.
~
On the whole, Castiel thought he was handling the day pretty well, given that the person who’d texted him about paperwork was probably his ex’s closest friend. He’d badly wanted to ask her about his ex, but had managed to stay professional long enough to complete the necessary paperwork and attempt to bolt. Before he could, however, Anna said, “We’ve got a potential bust; you in?” And honestly, it was that or spend the rest of the day that he could have off sitting in his apartment.
“I’m in.” Which is how he found himself here of all places, Hal’s Bar, a place not exactly known for the stellar reputation of its clientele. In fact, Castiel would’ve preferred for the bust to take place anywhere but here - Rachel loved this place, said she couldn’t get enough of the place’s atmosphere; she said it had a certain joie de vivre. Castiel didn’t see it, but Rachel had this way of altering reality to make it look like it was whatever she said it was.
He was getting distracted, and Anna was definitely delivering. Shaking his head slightly, Castiel made to pick up his drink as he took a cursory glance around the bar. The drink stopped as the glass touched his bottom lip when he saw someone looking at him. A man with green eyes that looked almost too bright. He probably was on drugs, but he looked lucid, so Castiel couldn’t really do anything but hold his gaze. Maybe he was onto something, maybe he wasn’t.
His eyes flicked toward Anna, who was making a show of standing up like she was preparing to leave, and they rolled when the suspected dealer - a suspicion that was just short of confirmed by his behavior and his confiding statements - scrambled to his feet and began to work quickly toward the door. Castiel caught Anna’s eyes as they walked past him, and she nodded; Castiel had no idea of where she kept any of her gear in an outfit like that, but the mysteries of female cops had long been unsolvable to him.
Now that she and the dealer had left, Castiel was left pretty much alone unless Anna called for backup. Which meant that he had nothing to distract him from the green-eyed stranger who now had a half-smirk gracing his lips. He was attractive, Castiel noted vaguely; even broken up as he was over Rachel, he was still capable of seeing and feeling attraction, even if it was toward a complete stranger.
Sliding out of his seat, Castiel gave the man a lingering gaze before turning and heading toward the bar. He’d made the invitation; now all he had to do was wait and see whether or not the handsome man would take it.
~
Sure Dean knew he was a cop, but damn him he was the most attractive cop he’d ever seen. He had been so distracted by the dazzling blue eyes that caught him staring that it took him awhile to notice that the bar the handsome fuzz was heading toward was now absent of his dealer and the red-head. That’s what he got for getting distracted by a pretty face. But he couldn’t do anything about it now and the other man had made it obvious he wanted to share a drink with him. Maybe he’d even buy it…what the hell, Dean thought.
As soon as he sat the cop held up two fingers for the bartender; so he was buying.
“Hey,” the man spoke casually but damn if that didn’t hit Dean in a way that made his insides twitch with desire. He didn’t speak for awhile because of it and the fuzz thought he was weird and gladly gulped a swig of the beer that had just been set in front of him.
“How’s it going?” Dean finally went with. He didn’t think it’d be that hard to talk to this man but there was something about him. It wasn’t the fact that he was a cop either; he just engulfed him with this overwhelming feeling… like they were meant to meet, or some stupid cheesey crap like that. Even so, the thought sent a shiver down his spine.
~
Castiel would’ve noticed how flustered the other man was if he’d been able to stop the shudder that went through his whole body at the sound of his voice. It was deep and pleasant, and only slightly scratchy, much smoother than Castiel knew his voice sounded, rough as it was. This man had something about him, something that Castiel thought maybe he could possibly consider the potential of maybe wanting to pursue.
“I’ve had better days,” he replied finally, taking a drink. “Just figured I’d come in here and see what I could see, y’know? How about you?” he asked, nodding in the man’s direction. Before he could answer, though, Castiel said quickly, “And obviously forgetting social etiquette is something I’m doing, too. I’m Cas.” The shortened version of his name wasn’t something he usually responded to, but he felt the other man might have an easier time of accepting that than Castiel, the misspelling of an angel’s name.
He wondered how Anna was doing as he waited for the man’s reply, and also wondered what Rachel was doing. Was she thinking of him? Did she miss him? Did she regret it? Castiel didn’t know if he wanted to know the answer to the last question. What’s wrong with you? he thought to himself, forcefully pulling his thoughts from that place. Don’t you know it’s rude to drift off into your own thoughts while you’re having a conversation with someone? He didn’t want to be here, in this place. He’d lied to the other man, yes, but only partly.
Still, before he suggested they move elsewhere, he figured he should probably wait for a name, at least. He gazed at the man before him, concentrating to block out all other thoughts than what he was talking about.
~
Dean noticed the pink rise in the man’s cheeks as he spoke his name. It made him blush too as he repeated the name absently in his head. Cas… Casss… Cas. Cas? It made him wonder if it was short for anything.
“I’m Dean Winchester,” and immediately he felt so stupid for saying his full name - to a cop even. “Um, but, just call me Dean,” he smiled and wrung his hands. What was he doing? He wasn’t like this. He was smooth. Calm. Always scoring left and right. But with one man he was fumbling like a school girl and missed out on his needed drug source. Dean gazed oddly at Cas and noticed his eyes were distant and he seemed to be somewhere else.
This oddly eased Dean’s tension and he hid a smirk. “I’m doing swimmingly actually. After this I was just going to join the trapeze circus that’s in town.” Dean wanted to test out how well Cas was paying attention. The thought of anything happening with this man made his stomach itch in an odd sensation he’d never experienced before.
~
Luckily, Castiel had only lifted the glass to his mouth again, and hadn’t taken a drink, because he was fairly sure it would’ve ended up all over him. The hilarity of what Dean - Dean Winchester - said caught him completely off-guard. “There’s no trapeze circus here,” he managed. “And you may be overqualified for the height requirement.” He hadn’t stood up yet to compare, but he knew Dean was taller than him. He liked that, liked it in a way that made him wonder how much he’d really cared about Rachel in the first place, if a man whose only information he had was his name could do things like this to him.
This place wasn’t helping him to order his thoughts, and now that he had Dean’s name, he stood and said, “Well, Dean, I need to get out of here. It’s too…stifling.” He waited for Dean expectantly, but when the other man didn’t move, Castiel said, “Uh, you could…come with? If…if you wanted. I’m just going outside for some air.” Feeling embarrassed by stumbling all over himself, he turned on his heel and strode out quickly, checking his phone to distract himself.
-Got him. Dont worry about me i got a cab. Let me know if u need anything & also about that guy i saw u makin eyes at. U rnt slick mr. -AM-
~
Dean didn't find it stifling at all. In fact, he liked feeling like the air around him was tight; it made him feel secure. Out in the open – outside – people, things can sneak up on you. He wasn't going to argue though. Not when he saw the firm rear end of the other man. Again, Dean felt nervous for some reason. Was he going to invite him to his place after they got outside? Would Dean invite him to his place? No, his place was… well it wasn't fit for a cop to be in. After a long thought process, he also realized that Cas didn't pay for the drinks either. He rolled his eyes, set down a five dollar bill, and strolled out of the bar.
Dean looked left and right but didn't see Cas anywhere. But why would he just ditch him?
He decided to try going towards the alley behind the bar and was quickly grabbed by the front of his jacket and shoved up against the alley wall.
"Hmm, you sure like to move fast," Dean joked uneasily but the twinge in his pants made him want to groan.
"Shh," Cas hushed him. He didn't move from holding Dean tight against the wall as he slowly peeked around the corner. As he moved back into view his breath was hot in Dean's ear.
"I'm sorry for dragging you into this but I'm a cop. My partner and I have been working a mob case for the past year and one of the gang members is here…" Dean wasn't listening anymore to what Cas was saying. He was too distracted by the warm whispers flooding his ear. The dark brown hair that was tousled but not enough. The very rigid body that was against his with no space between them. Suddenly a wave of cool air hit Dean in the face and it allowed oxygen to finally flow to his brain. He looked up at Cas who was on the phone. Calling for backup.
Shit, Dean thought. He didn't like the idea of being around if the whole Calvary was going to show up.
He didn't want to say anything to Cas though. Dean snuck further down the alley and shot off when he thought Cas was distracted enough. Suddenly he was bummed; it wouldn't have worked out with a cop anyways.
