Got a nice long one for y'all, might be a little less smooth than the other chapters because this was written in increments during finals week when my brain was scattered like dust in the wind, but here's pt.6
Becoming a regular face at the local, rundown dive bar has been an… interesting experience.
Cas has never been much of a drinker, save for special occasions or large events that he can’t stand attending without some form of buzz pushing him to socialize, but there’s something about The Roadhouse that keeps reeling him back in.
He could lie and say it’s a nice change of pace from his normal life, a way to get out of the house and socialize with people who aren’t his students. He could also say Gabe practically shoves him out the front door whenever Castiel mentions being bored, which is both true and false.
Gabe only forced him out of the house once, every other time has been his own volition, because, in truth, he’s become hooked on something he can only find at the bar.
Who knew a pair of green eyes and a bright, freckled face would be so addicting?
Dean’s astounding to watch as he works, making drinks and chatting with patrons, all with an easy grin. His spiky hair shines under the neon lights, his voice echoes throughout the room as he sings along to whatever’s playing on the jukebox and, while Castiel feels like a creep, watching him from a booth while he cradles his drink, he can’t bring himself to look away.
It took Cas a week to fully accept that Dean’s abduction of Jack was an accident, a second to begin to notice the way Dean was one of the most amazingly genuine people he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, and another to realize he was well and truly in over his head.
Now Gabe’s joking about dragging Castiel to an AA meeting because almost every other night, without fail, after Cas tucks Jack into bed with a story and a kiss, he goes out to visit Dean on his shift.
“Dean,” Castiel smiles at the bartender, who’s easily sliding into the seat across from him, “Are you on break?”
It’s barely past midnight on a Friday, these are the nights Cas barely gets a word in edgewise with Dean before he’s pulled to some other task.
“Nah, I’m off early tonight.” True to his word he has his jacket slung over his shoulder and his keys clutched in one hand.
“Oh?” Cas glances towards the bar, where two of Dean's co-workers (Jo and… Benny? Are those their names?) are watching the pair like hawks, “Why’s that?”
The burly man behind the bar shoots Dean a conspiratorial grin and a wink, leaving the bartender across from Cas sputtering out his answer, “N-no reason.”
Dean clears his throat, blushing so hard it disappears down the collar of his henley, “You headin’ out soon?”
The professor looks down at his long since empty glass, “It appears so.”
“Cool!” Dean jumps out of his seat, seeming to have recovered from whatever embarrassing circumstance his co-workers so desperately tried to put him in, “I’ll walk you out.”
Cas bites back a response about how he can manage a trip to the parking lot on his own, how he doesn't need someone to escort him back to his beat-up second hand truck.
It’s quiet outside, a vast difference from the Roadhouse’s constant noise and clatter. The sky is cloudy, a few drops of rain are beginning to fall, but other than that it’s not awful.
Especially not with Dean at his side, grinning as they walk to Cas’ vehicle.
“Woah,” The bartender whistles under his breath once Castiel points out which parking spot he’s in, “Never took you for a truck guy.”
He’s heard this sentiment before and his answer is practically muscle memory at this point, “I’m not, but it was the cheapest vehicle I could find when I started school, and I haven’t had time to budget a way to replace it.” He purses his lips in thought for a moment before adding, “I use my brother's car whenever I need to transport Jack, though, since this doesn't have a back seat.”
“Smart.” Dean nods approvingly as Castiel unlocks the door, “Well it’s a nice lookin-” Cas turns the key in the ignition and his engine lets out a god awful shrieking noise, “Jesus christ!”
“It does that sometimes.” He shrugs, the clatter waning as the engine warms up.
“It shouldn’t.” Dean looks horrified, “Is this thing even driveable?”
“I-” He looks like he wants to argue more but Cas sets his jaw and Dean leaves it be, opting to sigh and card a hand through his spiky hair, “Okay, you do you, man.”
“Thank you,” His fingers ghost over the handle, ready to close his door and head home, “Have a good night, Dean.”
Dean smiles, mouth opening like he wants to say something before it snaps closed, “I- yeah Cas, get home safe.”
Of course the night Castiel insists his truck is driveable is the night it decides to spite him.
Ten minutes from the Roadhouse, on some poorly lit back road, something begins to feel terribly wrong.
He pushes the gas pedal down in an attempt to accelerate, only for the engine to let out a pathetic noise while his speedometer stays stubbornly low. He tries again, flooring it this time, only to get the same results, never managing to get above 20 mph.
Panic surges through him as he jerkily pulls to the side of the road, cursing the stupid used truck that he knew was being sold for far too low of a price to be any good.
Castiel turns his key in the ignition and the vehicle falls silent.
What does he do now? Does he risk trying to drive back home when his truck might give out on him? Does he call Gabe to retrieve him?
No, Gabe’s at home with Jack.
A tow truck is his next best option, but it's late and the fees will probably be exuberant.
“Damnit.” He thumps his fist on the dashboard.
He’s not sure how long he sits there, glaring at the hood in front of him with betrayal, but it’s long enough for a sleek black car to pull up behind his truck.
Cas grumbles under his breath and grips his steering wheel tightly, headlights flashing in the rearview as a silhouetted figure approaches his window. He doesn't want to deal with someone else right now, no matter how helpful they end up being, he just wants to be home.
Oh god. Castiel freezes, catching movement out of the corner of his eyes as the person becomes clear in the dim light.
“I thought that was you,” Dean presses his face up against the window, voice muffled as he shouts at Cas through the glass, “What’s goin’ on?”
Cas keeps his eyes firmly trained ahead of him, like he can will the bartender away if he doesn't acknowledge his presence.
“Helloooo-” Fingers tap on the glass, “Ground control to Major Cas.”
This is mortifying, the last thing he wanted Dean to see tonight was his poor vehicle maintenance.
“Dude? Are you okay?” He sounds concerned and that snaps Castiel out of his stupor, “Do you want me to call someone-?”
Castiel whips towards him, not intentionally, but it causes Dean’s eyes to widen in surprise for a moment. He fumbles for the handle, motioning for Dean to wait one moment, before popping open his door, “Did you follow me?”
“Nope.” Dean presses an arm against the roof and leans against the truck, “Just happened to be coming up the road when I noticed a certain bucket of bolts sitting on the shoulder. ”
Cas glares at the wet gravel below them, “I do not want to hear an ‘I told you so’ right now.”
“And you’re not gonna’,” Dean throws his hands up in surrender and flashes a brilliant smile, “I just wanted to offer my stellar roadside assistance.”
“I don’t want to keep you-”
“None of that,” He gives him a firm clap on the shoulder, hand lingering for just a moment, “Pop the hood, lets see what’s going on.”
Castiel does as Dean asks, finding the bartender's confidence too strong to disagree with.
He should have probably asked Dean what sort of experience with engines he has before letting him loose on his poor truck, maybe he’s even less knowledgeable than Cas and is only going to do more harm than good, but he moves with ease, ducking out of sight and under the hood like he’s done this all his life.
After a few minutes of rummaging around Dean seems to find the problem, shouting so he can be heard over the rain, “Cas, man, your spark plugs are fucked! When was the last time you took this thing in for a tune up?”
Castiel blushes and averts his gaze, even though Dean can’t see him with his nose buried in the engine. It’s ridiculous, really, he’s a university professor, he has an adopted child who he’s cared for since he himself was a student, and yet the idea of going to an auto shop to figure out why his truck hasn’t been acting quite right makes his stomach churn.
He’s heard horror stories of people being overcharged, scammed for parts they don’t need because they don’t know their way around an engine, it’s awful and Castiel isn’t sure he could prevent it from happening to him.
Dean’s staring at him now, squinting through the rain, hair plastered to his forehead.
“I-” He swallows thickly and raises his voice, “I’m afraid I’m not very good at vehicle maintenance.”
“I caught that,” The bartender snorts, slamming the hood down so hard it makes Cas jump, “But you need some now, so…”
He circles around to the passengers side, easily ducking inside to avoid the distasteful weather as Cas groans and presses his forehead to the steering wheel, already dreading the inevitable hours of researching local mechanics he has coming for him.
“Ya’ know…” Dean speaks again, gentler this time, “My uncle owns a shop in town, might be able to get a discount.”
“Yeah, I can totally work something out with him. Can you get the engine started at all?”
Castiel nods miserably, forehead thumping against the wheel, turning the key in the ignition to prove that his truck is capable of running (poorly), “It just refuses to accelerate.”
Cas shoots him a disbelieving side eye.
“Well, it ain’t good good, but it means we don’t need to tow it.” Bless Dean's heart, he’s trying so hard to keep things somewhat positive, “You follow me back into town and I’ll lead you to the shop and we can get it fixed up first thing tomorrow.”
He agrees to Dean's plan, if only so he doesn't stay stranded on the side of the road any longer, and he tails the bartender's impala into town at a painfully slow pace.
What should have been a five minute drive takes much, much longer. Castiel could almost weep with relief when a sign saying ‘Singer Auto’ comes into view and Dean pulls into an empty parking lot, Cas parking in the spot next to him.
“It’ll be fine here overnight?” He asks as he gets out of the truck and locks the door behind him.
“Yep, Bobby’s got security cameras galore, nobody’s gonna’ try anything.”
“Alright…” He wrings his hands as Dean settles next to him, leaving the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder against the truck, “I should probably call a taxi back home, shouldn’t I?”
Cas is given a look that makes him feel like he’s just asked if the sky was blue, like he’s just asked a question that has a painfully obvious answer.
“I’ll drive ya’,” Dean shrugs, like it’s the simplest decision in the world, “I don’t mind.”
“What if I live out of your way?” It’s a massive possibility, Cas forcing Dean to drive thirty minutes opposite of his home just because he can’t take good care of his truck.
“Then we go out of my way. Who knows-” Dean’s stepping into Cas’ space now, “Might be nice to spend some time together outside of the bar.”
Cas feels his face heat up, “I’ve been told I’m not amazing company.”
Dean throws his head back and laughs and, goodness, is it one of the most beautiful sounds on earth; he wants to hear it everyday.
“If I didn’t think you were awesome to be around, I wouldn’t be here.”
Now, here’s the thing, Castiel has never been great at reading tone. His siblings used to tease him constantly for it, his fellow professors still side-eye him when his sarcasms fall flat, but there’s no doubt in his mind that Dean is genuine.
Maybe it’s the glint in his eyes, or the fact that he could be at home but is instead standing in the rain with Cas, it makes the professor want to believe every word that comes out of his mouth.
“C’mon man,” Dean loosely grabs Cas’ wrist, dragging him back towards the impala, “You like classic rock? It’s the only music allowed in Baby.”
“I’ll enjoy whatever music you play.”
Dean lights up at that, opening the passengers side door for Cas and allowing him to get comfortable before he gets behind the wheel.
“Just tell me where we’re going!”
Cas watches the mechanics shop- and subsequently his truck- disappear in the side view mirror as he directs Dean between bits of conversation.
“-You’ve seriously never listened to Bob Seger!?”
“I can’t say I have- turn left here-”
Dean sings along to the music as he follows Cas’ directions, something a black-haired beauty. He has a wonderful singing voice.
“You’re the boss- Okay, so no Seger, you ever listen to Springsteen?”
“What!? What about Zep? AC/DC-?”
“Oh my god, I take back every nice thing I’ve said about you, we can’t be friends anymore- oh, are you laughing? Cas, are you fucking with me right now?”
“Go straight at this intersection.”
“Dean I’m out of touch, I don’t live under a rock, of course I know about AC/DC.”
“It’s the next driveway on the left- yes this one- You’ve been saying nice things about me?”
Dean flushes and sputters as the impala rolls to a stop next to Gabriel's driveway, “W-well, yeah, obviously-”
“I’m flattered.” Cas can see a light on in the kitchen and a silhouette suspiciously shaped like his older brother peeking out the window, though it ducks out of view once Castiel spots it, “Thank you for the ride, Dean.”
He has to walk around the car to get to the driveway and he can hear Dean roll down the window behind his back, “Cas, come back here for a sec.”
Now it’s Cas’ turn to lean against someone else's vehicle, ducking his head so he can look Dean in the eyes, “Yes?”
The freckled man looks like he might have a stroke for a moment, “Listen, Cas, I’ve really enjoyed hanging with you so- ya’ know- I guess if you wanted to keep doing that- we-” He stumbles through a few more half formed sentences before he screws his eyes shut and mumbles under his breath, “Fuck it.”
There’s no time to ask what he means before Dean leans out the window, grips Cas’ chin, and plants a kiss square on his cheek.
It’s chaste, quick, not at all like the man who gave it, but it still sends Castiel's mind reeling as he takes a few stumbling steps back, his face certainly turning a brilliant shade of red.
“Okay, see ya’ Cas!” Dean’s back in the impala, pointedly not looking at the man he just made a move on, and shifting gears before Cas can react, “I’ll let you know when I get your car fixed up!”
But he’s already tearing down the road, leaving Castiel to watch him disappear around a corner, leaving him feeling impossibly warm and giddy despite the rain seeping through his coat.
That was possibly the clumsiest, most juvenile way to admit one's feelings that Castiel has ever witnessed, and it was perfect.
Next time he sees Dean he’ll have to return the favor.
