"So I'm in the middle of the concerto when the guy stops me and points at my guitar and is like 'Can you play that?' and I was kinda like 'No shit'-"
"You said that?"
"I didn't! I just thought it! But why would he even ask me that?? I wouldn't haul around an instrument I can't play. He was kind of an asshole." Castiel was lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling, phone pressed up to his ear. The orangey-afternoon light shone in through his translucent curtains and across his chest, making the rings on his hands glint and reflect onto the walls around him.
"Okay, so what next? Did you play guitar?" Dean asked excitedly.
"Well, yeah, but first the other judge just straight up asked me what instruments I play. So I told her, and then they asked me to play something on everything. So I played a Chon song on guitar-"
"What the hell is Chon?" Dean interrupted.
"It's prog. You're so old." Castiel teased, laughing.
Dean was silent for a moment.
"What...?" Castiel asked sitting up.
"No. You're gonna laugh at me." Dean said quietly, and Castiel could practically see him pouting.
"Oh my god, just say it!"
Dean huffed before mumbling, "What's prog?"
Castiel did indeed laugh. Very hard.
"I told you! I said you were going to!" Dean said, exasperated as Castiel's far-away laughter could be heard.
Meanwhile on the other end, Castiel's phone had been long abandoned, but soon he reached for it once more.
"I'm sorry, it's just funny-" He giggled again.
"Are you gonna answer me??" Dean pouted.
"Prog is short for progressive rock. It's like weird time signatures and modes and things you wouldn't normally associate with rock. Wait, hold on-" Castiel took his phone away from his ear and went to work texting Dean a YouTube link to G.O.A.T. by Polyphia.
"There. That's prog."
He heard Dean's phone vibrate. "Ok, I'll listen to....Poly-polypia? Whatever," Castiel chuckled, "Later, but tell me about the rest of your audition."
"Yeah okay, so," Castiel thought for a minute. "So I played guitar, and then I played a Schubert piece on piano, and then I sang and played piano."
"What did you sing?" Dean asked.
"Well, I wanted to sound a little more professional than pop or rock, so I did an old spiritual my voice teacher picked called Deep River." Castiel said, stomach flipping nervously at the memory of his performance.
"I didn't know you sang anything but rock, you should let me hear it some time." Dean said, smiling.
Castiel immediately backpedaled. "Oh no, no no no, I sound so bad on it." He said, subconsciously covering his face.
Dean made a small noise of discontent into the phone before saying. "Baby, you don't sound bad on anything. Ever. Never once have you sounded bad. I don't think thats physically possible for you."
"Dean really, it's so technical and boring and awful, I'm sure you wouldn't like it." Castiel took a breath. "Also that was really sweet. Thank you. I appreciate your faith in me, but really, I sound so bad." He said, embarrassed at the mere thought of singing outside of his confident frontman persona for Dean.
"I doubt that, but it's okay, you don't have to." Dean said, a little sad that the thought made Cas so uncomfortable. "So how do you think it went overall?"
"Well, I think it went...okay? I played correctly and I answered all their theory questions correctly I think. I don't know, I feel like it went well, but I still don't feel confident in the thing as a whole."
Dean sighed, "I'm sorry, angel. I know this isn't helpful, but you're the most talented human I've ever met. I know you're going to get in because you deserve it, you're more than capable, and not to mention, you're super hot?? So, that'll definitely push you over the edge." Dean said, amused with himself. Castiel laughed.
"Thank you. I appreciate the thought but I'm not entirely sure that's in their criteria." He giggled softly.
"In all seriousness, I have all the faith in the world that you're exactly what they're looking for. You shine so bright, angel, there's no one in the universe who can't see that." Dean said softly.
Castiel felt his insides melt. "God, I love you."
He froze, covering a his mouth as if his hand could put the words back in. His heart was racing, his stomach in knots.
FUCK FUCK FUCK YOU IDIOT WHY DID YOU SAY THAT-
Dean, on the other hand, was doing a victory lap around his tiny kitchen. Slightly alarmed by the silence, he resumed their conversation.
"Cas?"
Silence.
"Are you there?"
Castiel cleared his throat. "I-I don't-I don't know."
Dean chuckled. "You don't know if you're there?" He smirked.
YOU STUPID DUMB BITCH YOU IDIOT-
Castiel was berating himself in his brain as he tried to find the words to do damage control.
"Hey, baby?" Dean said quietly, a smile evident in his voice.
"Hmmmmm yes?" Castiel said awkwardly.
"I love you, too."
Then Dean hung up.
~~~~~~~
Dean sat on his bed, staring out the window, a goofy smile plastered on his face.
Cas said he loves me.
He couldn't stop thinking about that moment. He couldn't focus on anything else. While he should've been cooking, grading papers, doing adult things (paying bills n shit get your mind out of the g u t t e r), anything else on this surprisingly sunny Sunday evening, he couldn't stop thinking about the dark and wispy teenager that he felt so incredibly lucky to call his.
"Castiel Novak loves me. Fuck." Dean whispered to himself happily.
He was awoken out of dreamland by a soft knocking on his door.
Who could that be?
Cas...?
At that notion, he jumped up and scrambled towards the front door.
He flung it open breathlessly, only to be slightly disappointed at the sight before him.
"Oh. Sam, hey." He said, stepping aside to let his brother into the shadowy apartment. Sam's uniform clinked and jingled as he walked, badge glinting across his broad chest.
He walked over to the curtains, in the living room, flinging them open. "You know, sunlight doesn't kill you, you could open a window every once in a while." He said, almost to himself.
"What brings you by?" Dean said, walking towards his small counter and sitting at one of the tall stools, mind wandering.
Sam came into the kitchen, "I just got off and I wanted to check up on you. See how things are going. I haven't been here in a while, since you always come to our place." He said, opening the fridge and pulling out a couple of beers. When he shut it, the front of the refrigerator caught his eye. "What's all this....?" He asked, running his fingers over and between the edges of Castiel's drawings.
Dean panicked a little, trying to make up a good excuse. Was it creepy if he kept his students drawings?
"Ah, just stuff from students." He said, trying his hardest to sound inconspicuous.
Sam raised an eyebrow.
"'You look pretty today, I love seeing your eyes when they aren't hiding behind your glasses. (But you look super cute with glasses)'" He read aloud, turning to see a very red-faced Dean. "Students, huh?" He said skeptically.
"Not that one. Obviously." Was all Dean could think to say.
Yeah, nice Dean. You don't sound suspicious at all.
Sam crept towards him with a mischievous look on his face. "So, who thinks you're 'super cute', Dean?"
"No one, it's nothing-"
"Oh no," Sam said, laughing, "You're not getting out of this one. So who is it? Who's the lucky lady?" He said, bottles clinking as they made contact with the counter.
Dean groaned. "Why is it so important?"
"Remember when you saw Jess hug me goodbye when you came to pick me up from school sophmore year?" Sam said, taking a swig of amber liquid. Dean did remember, mentally cursing himself for his actions. "You wouldn't go home until I told you. You dragged me around town, and you got on the highway out of town and said, 'I don't care if we have to go to Topeka, you're gonna tell me everything!'"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, so what??" He asked grumpily.
"So, spill it. Who's your mystery girl?" Sam said, poking Dean's arm.
Dean simply drank his beer in silence.
Sam huffed. "Hello?"
Dean shook his head and stared at the wall behind Sam.
The younger brother sighed, "Alright, I get it. You don't wanna tell me about your fling with....the art teacher...?" Sam guessed, looking expectantly at Dean.
Dean laughed. "Well considering she's about 60, and not to mention her husband, children, and many grandchildren, I'd say no."
Sam chuckled. "Alright, guess not."
A comfortable silence fell between the two, when Dean's phone pinged from it's spot on the counter. He glanced at it lazily, but nearly dived for it when he saw who it was.
Cas lay brightly across the glass. He prayed with everything in his body that Sam hadn't noticed, but as he quickly shoved it in his pocket, he saw Sam staring at him with raised brows.
"Cas, huh? Do I know a Cassidy? A Cassandra maybe?" He pondered teasingly.
Dean felt nerves flood his system and his hands began to quiver ever so slightly. He didn't anticipate anyone being in his apartment, or he would've prepared much better. He wouldn't have had practically a shrine to his student that also happened to be his boyfriend.
What if someone found out? What would happen to Cas? Would he ever see him again?
What if someone already knows? That thought alone was the worst thing he could think of in that moment.
Sam's concerned voice snapped him out of his trance. "Dean...? You look like you're going to throw up."
He couldn't find words. His mind and heart were running a marathon and he couldn't think straight.
"I might."