"Dean, we have to talk," Sam rounded on him at morning coffee.
Dean just kept drenching his hot cakes in maple syrup. Glossing over those fluffy little fuckers with a thick layer of nonchalance, just like he's done to his feelings for the last thirty or so years. Dean stole a glance at Castiel who was staring into the depth of his Americano coffee with a look of tremulous doubt, as if he was gazing into an abyss. The way Castiel kept avoiding eye contact with Dean was gutting him. All the trees in Canada couldn't produce enough maple syrup to sugarcoat the raw edgy awkwardness of this morning after.
Dean shuddered when he thought about the night before. The way Castiel had shouted at him, declared his feelings through gritted teeth then just dropped to his knees and worshiped him with his stubborn mouth. It had been utter torment and sheer heaven rolled into one. Like a roller coaster ride he never wanted to get off of.
Neither of them did, in fact, get off. Sam had come running into the woods, gun drawn, when he'd woken up alone in Cas' car and found the Impala abandoned. They had to make up some shit about having to take a crap in the woods, simultaneously. Of course, Sam wasn't going to believe that one, though he had the good grace to let it drop for a couple hours so everyone could get some sleep. Dean wasn't sure how Castiel's sleep cycle went in the adjoining room, but in the one he shared with Sam he just laid there furtively grasping himself through the sheets, too embarrassed to help himself and too turned on to close his eyes. That's because every time he shut his eyes, he was back in Cas' hot, sleek mouth, pushing himself hard into that gorgeous face, helplessly rambling out the words 'fuck' and 'Cas' like a broken record.
That same heavenly mouth was tightly shut at the moment and Cas looked at the bagel Sam handed him like blueberries and cream cheese were the most confronting thing in the universe and he was about to throw up.
"Look, can either of you please talk to me, I know in my gut something went down in that forest!" Sam said in exasperation.
Castiel literally jumped in his seat, face going a dark bronze red. His butter knife skewered the bagel, unbalanced the plate and tipped the whole thing onto the floor with a loud crash. Dean leapt up instinctively to help Cas and almost got impaled on the cutlery. So as Sam tried to unfold himself from the booth-seat and reach for Dean to stabilise him, his long arms made Dean's pancake stack and Cas' coffee go flying. It was like an episode of the three stooges, except one of them was deluded, the other disheartened and the third bewildered.
Cas ends up wearing it all, scolding coffee down the front of his one white shirt, sweet treacle all over his coat which he ineffectively wipes at with his hands. Dean wants to burst out laughing except Castiel is pulling up his shirt to check the pink burn on his perfectly tanned abdomen, fingers leaving strands of shiny syrup all over the fly of his pants in the process. And Dean gets feverishly jealous of the napkin being dabbed, quite pointlessly, over Castiel's crotch. He glares at the waitress who was going out of her way to assist the flustered angel with the cleanup. She ignores Dean and keeps rubbing at Cas until he shyly backs away, grabbing the napkin from her busy hand.
Once the slapstick scene is tidied somewhat and Castiel had gone to the bathroom and changed into a spare t-shirt Dean had in the car, Sam starts talking again, but thankfully he's moved on to the hunt.
"Yeah, remember, that's why we are here," Sam was going through the exposition faithfully to recap the case for Castiel's benefit. "The Venice Beach Sphinx is a local rumour that started online about a week ago. A number of witnesses have reported encounters with the man."
"How do they know he is a man," Castiel asked. "You mentioned a creature with the face of a lion."
"Oh, they know," Dean winked and immediately regretted the casual flirtation.
Castiel was giving him an askance look, like he's trying to see right to the core of him.
Dean cleared his throat. "It'll make sense, Cas, once you start talking to the witnesses. Trust me."
"I always do, Dean." Castiel said, swallowing slowly. "And I always will."
Sam was so used to this sort of heart on the sleeve sentiment from Castiel to Dean, it doesn't even register. He air drops the contact details for a couple of witnesses to Castiel's phone and they hit the streets.
* * * * *
The first guy is a musician who busks on the piers. Castiel stands back, looking pretty out of place in his casual outfit as Sam and Dean do the FBI agents' strut in their creased suits.
"He just stood there and listened to me play 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door'. He was real still and quiet. I seriously thought he was wearing a wicked cool mask. But when he stepped into the street light I could see him licking his muzzle."
"Could have been fancy animatronics," Dean said skeptically.
"It wasn't, he was flesh and blood and, uh, fur, big soft mane too," the singer insisted. "I know because he came up to me, picked up my hand and put it on his cheek."
"Did he try to attack you?" Sam asked.
"No, not at all, look, it's a little embarrassing so I didn't mention this part on my facebook post," the young man blushed. "He kind of just leaned into my hand and purred. Then he licked my face."
"Where I come from, a lion does that, he's taste testing dinner, you know," Dean remarked.
"No, he wasn't going to eat me," the witness gave them a challenging flash of defiant green eyes. "He wouldn't hurt me, he was just lonely."
"I am surprised by that observation," Castiel piped up all of a sudden. "Why wouldn't he want to eat you, you look delectable."
The guy they were talking to leaned over to checkout Castiel, taking in the ruffled hair, straight backed posture and innocent good looks. He smiled broadly at Castiel and the angel let out a quiet little "oh".
"Don't mind him, he's still in training. We don't even let him wear the suit," Dean stepped between them, literally body blocking Castiel from the man's interested glance.
Sam narrowed his own eyes. Now that Dean was standing next to the busker, something about the two men was intriguing. They were of a similar height and build, medium brown hair. The musician was maybe a few years younger, his face still more big eyes and long lashes than Dean's more masculine look, but still, there was an undeniable resemblance. Sam filed that one away under 'weird' and 'dwell on that later."
As they walked away, the young Dean (as Sam was now calling him in his head) ran after them.
"Hey, wait a second, dudes," he came jogging up to Castiel, bending a little at the knees so he could smile up at the angel's face. "Uh, my name is David and I truly have never done this ever, but I just feel this weird connection with you man, so uh, here's a flier for my next gig, maybe you will come along?"
Castiel gave David a blinking smile and pocketed the piece of paper.
As they walked down the boardwalk, Dean said to Castiel "Give me that flier." Castiel complied willingly. Dean gave it a casual glance, went 'pfft' disdainfully, balled it up and tossed it over his shoulder.
"You threw my only means of contacting that young man into the sea, Dean," Castiel frowned.
"Yeah I did, Cas, you don't need that hipster acoustic crap in your life okay?" Dean was strolling so fast, head down, not meeting Sam's eyes.
"Dean, you should let Cas date, do you have a problem with it being a guy?" Sam hissed to Dean when Castiel fell behind to stare intently at some seagulls. Sam could see Castiel's lips moving in the distance, he hoped he wasn't questioning them.
"I don't have any gay hang ups when it's other people okay," Dean disclaimed. "Just Cas, because he is a big dork and he'll end up with his heart broken."
"Sorry to break it to you Dean but Cas is like a hundred thousand times older and stronger and, in his way, wiser than us, who are you to make that call for him," Sam said. "If you like him, you better make a move bro, because from what I'm seeing, if you don't, other people will. And you know what, I'm sick of the way he looks at you when it happens. All those other people hitting on him and he's looking at you like ... like he's freaking dying and you're his only cure and he just can't get his head around why you won't make it all better."
Dean took in that observation from Sam and refused to comment on it. Instead, he dicked about with his phone for a minute and gave Sam the brush off.
"Right, Sam, why don't you and Cas take the next witness, I'm skipping ahead to number three. See you guys at lunch."
Sam responded with an annoyed grunt. Castiel was running after the seagulls now, head down, hair flying wildly in the sea breeze. He looked ridiculous and hot and Dean just couldn't deal anymore.
* * * * *
This was more like it, Dean slipped onto the barstool with a sigh and though it was ten in the morning, ordered a scotch on the rocks. A stunning woman came over and sat down next to him, Dean registered a strong, but not unwelcome, scent of violets. She was heavily made up but gorgeous nonetheless. Her name was Diana and Dean instantly loved her voice when she spoke, it was a husky jazz singer voice which inexplicably reminded Dean of Cas. She apologised that she was in the midst of rehearsing for her evening show and could only spare a few minutes while the smoke machine was being set up.
"So I heard you were looking for me, how can I help?"
"My partners and I, we are looking into some sightings. A local urban legend so to speak, the Sphinx."
"There's not much I can tell you that you probably don't already know," Diana smiled, pearlescent lips stretching. "He was sweet. I hope you guys don't find him."
Dean leaned back, exasperated. "Sweet?! Big gaping maw, claws. Heck, what is wrong with everyone in this city?"
"Oh, he didn't have claws, hands as human as yours or mine," Diana laughed, "And the lion head, it felt totally real but it's not completely impossible, he might have a genetic condition."
"There is no such condition," Dean exclaimed.
"Hey, take it easy," Diana was suddenly holding his hand, her fingers were very long, with beautiful jade tipped nails. "You've got a real angry vibe about you agent, you need to relax a little."
She was running her hand gently over the back of his, Dean looked at her, taking in the long elegant figure beneath her long gown, she was seriously leggy and everything about her was feminine and soft. Dean thought about pressing her into a motel mattress, taking down her fancy up-do, watch her lose herself in ecstasy as he envelope himself in her soft embrace. He thinks about kissing her plush lips and suddenly the image in his mind morphed into Cas writhing beneath him, muscles hard and hot to the touch, his familiar voice urgent and pleading. Dean shifts in his chair, cursing himself under his breath as heat blooms in his cheeks and elsewhere on his body.
"You are really cute," Diana sighed appreciatively. "And my goodness, are those your partners? What on earth is in the FBI recruitment policy, you lot look like you could work here, want a job agents? We offer good medical insurance and all the stage time you want."
Dean spun on his barstool and found Castiel standing right next to him, gawking at the disco globe and darkened nightclub interiors. Sam slid into a seat and ordered a coke zero.
"Number two's clinic was still shut, so we ended up coming here, we can check out number four and then go back to him, he opens at 2pm today," Sam said.
"Right, I'm almost done here anyway," Dean said, standing up to go.
"You are done with me already are you agent?" Diana cocked a shapely eyebrow up at Dean, she turned and smiled at Castiel and Sam. "Watch out for this one, he'll love you and leave you just like that."
Dean shrugged, he stole a glance at Castiel wondering if the angel was about to blurt something out about last night, But Castiel was just eyeballing Diana intensely.
"You are a beautiful angel, everything about you is unique and loved by God," said Castiel out of the blue.
Diana whirled around to stare at Castiel, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears. "I beg your pardon?"
"You, you are stunning," Castiel said, advancing on her, he reached out a hand and touched her long wavy hair, tucking a strand of it neatly behind her ear. "I want to see you, beneath this beautiful illusion or expression, I want to see all of you."
"You are the first man who ever said that to me and meant it," Diana was trembling now. "Who are you?"
"I'm no one, I'm not important, God, you are the most heavenly creature in this room, and I would know." Castiel was stroking his hand down her cheek.
Diana gazed at Castiel for a minute until the music started playing and she had to go on stage for the rehearsal.
She turned to Dean and said "Well agent, you wanted to know what that lion headed creature did, well, it was pretty much what your incredible friend here just did, only without so many words and with some slow dancing thrown in. He made me feel beautiful and wanted."
"Those are some fucking lines," Dean said to Castiel. "What is up with you? Have they put aphrodisiacs in your coffee or something? Sam, back me up, this, sexy Cas, is not right."
Sam glared at Dean. "I think sexy Cas is plenty right and heck I might take a shot myself at this rate, how far are you going to push the guy with your avoidant behaviour?"
"Avoidant?" Dean huffed. "I'll show you textbook avoidant, I'm out of here."
But before Dean could storm off, Castiel gripped his arm. His touch froze Dean on the spot like the freaking eye of Medusa. All of Dean's bluster just dissipates, all his agitation gone, Castiel's grip is firm and steadfast. This is the same grip that pulled me out of hell, thought Dean. The same celestial intent that redeemed him, saved him, now resides in a human vessel, like a universe squashed into a grain of sand. Into one impossibly attractive human body which Dean was now irrepressibly drawn to. As if all the denizens of heaven got together and figured out, this person, this incarnation of Castiel, will torment Dean the most, queue raucous angelic laughter. Dean blamed God, only he could be so wickedly cruel, with such a mean sense of humour.
"Dean, stay for the song," said Castiel. Castiel's sincere face and enticing voice and familiar smell made Dean want to drop to his knees and thank God and heaven and Lucifer and fucking Crowley even, he'll thank anyone and everyone, for Cas' existence, he was a fucking miracle in Dean's hellish life.
So of course he says "If that's what you want Cas."
They stay for Diana's rendition of an old Madonna hit that goes like this:
Something in the way you love me, won't let me be,
I don't want to be your prisoner, so baby won't you set me free,
Stop playing with my heart, finish what you start,
when you make my love come down
If you want me let me know, baby let it show,
Honey don't you fool around
Just try to understand, I've given all I can
You've got the best of me,
Borderline, feels like I'm going to lose my mind,
You just keep on pushing my love over the borderline.
When the song ends, Sam is giving Diana a standing ovation, Castiel looks over at Dean and Dean says "I got you, Cas."