#actor!cas

Dean lucked out when he’d met Charlie. They’d been assigned as roommates in college. There had been a mix up with the room allocations. Dean had been a little confused when he’d turned from his boxes to find a tiny red-head standing in the doorway of his dorm. 

Charlie had taken a step into the room, let her backpack fall to the floor, and said, “Don’t even think about trying anything. I’m gay as the day is long and I’m not afraid to punch a guy back into his place.” Dean hadn’t known how to reply so he’d just nodded and silently gone back to unpacking his things. 

It was when Charlie had put up a Star Wars poster above her bed that Dean knew he was about to make a best friend. 

“Ooh what’s this?” Charlie’s voice came from the kitchen.

Crap. Charlie had probably found the invite. He should have hidden it when he had the chance. He sighed and moved into the kitchen. 

Charlie had an extremely mischievous grin on her face, and that was saying something for her. 

“When were you going to tell me about this?” Charlie asked. 

“Urm, never?” Dean mumbled, reaching to snatch the paper out of Charlie’s hand. 

But Charlie was too quick and dodged Dean’s grasp. 

“Come on Dean. You have to go!” Charlie implored. “It’ll be fun!”

Dean gave his friend an unimpressed look. “Charlie you know how much I hated high school.”

Charlie’s face softened. “I know, it sucks that you got outed before you were ready. No one deserves that. But, it’s been ten years. Things have changed.”

“You don’t know the people I went to high school with.” Dean scoffed. 

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Stop being dramatic, you nerd.”

“Dramatic or not, I ain’t going.” Dean plucked the invite out of Charlie’s hand and tore it in two. 

Charlie stuck her tongue out at him. “Party pooper.”

*  *  *

A few hours later, Dean and Charlie were deep into their annual ‘NerdFest’ movie night. 

“I swear, if I didn’t bat for the best team, I’d be so down for a bit of Black Wing.” Charlie mumbled around a mouth full of popcorn. 

Dean couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Aside from Captain America (because, hello Chris Evans!), Black Wing was Dean’s favourite superhero. But he’d only appeared in ensemble movies. There had been rumours of him getting his own solo movie after fans online had campaigned for it but nothing ever seemed to come of it. The guy who played him seemed to just drop off the map. 

Shame, Dean thought as he watched Black Wing kick ass on-screen, that dude was hot! 

“Take someone like that to your high school reunion and it would make those dicks’ jaws drop.” 

“Drop it, Charlie.” Dean groaned, glaring at the red-head. 

“Just saying. Get a hot date and you’ll win the game of life in their eyes.” Charlie raised her hands in defence. 

“Noted. Let’s move on.” 

“Fine.” Charlie pouted. 

Dean nodded and turned back to watch the screen, content that the subject had been dropped. 

“OH MY GOD!”

Dean jumped out of his skin, sending popcorn flying through the air. “What the hell, Bradbury?” He exclaimed. 

Charlie started excitedly slapping Dean on the arm. “I have the best idea.” She practically squealed. “Put an ad up on Craigslist for a hot date.”

Dean’s eyes went wide. “No fucking way. Never happening. Now stop.”

“But-”

“No!”

Charlie sulked for the next half an hour, all through the iconic fight scene with Black Wing and his fellow team of superheroes. She stopped eventually after Dean offered her a piece of pie as a peace offering. 

*  *  *

After a couple more movies, Charlie had to leave. Apparently, being an adult meant that you can’t just spend all night watching with your best friend anymore - who knew? So with a ‘see ya later bitch’, Charlie was gone. 

Dean felt the aches from being sat on the couch for hours and he was looking forward to laying out on his bed for a good night’s sleep. 

He sighed to himself and tidied up the last remains of the movie snacks. He was ready for sleep but he had to work early in the morning and he wouldn’t have time to clean up before he left. 

Shuffling into the kitchen to put the rubbish in the trash, Dean spotted his reunion invite where he left it on the counter. Except, it wasn’t ripped in two like he’d left it. It had ‘mysteriously’ been taped back together. He dragged a tired hand down his face in exasperation. Charlie just didn’t know when to quit. She was the bratty little sister he never wanted. 

He plonked himself down on the chair at the counter and stared at the white paper for a few moments. 

Fuck it! 

Charlie was right (though he’d never admit it to her face). He was determined to prove to the assholes he went to school with that the shit they threw at him didn’t stick. It didn’t matter that Dean didn’t really believe it to be the truth,’ fake it til ya make it’ as they say. 

Before he could chicken out, Dean had Craigslist opened up on his phone. Thinking back to Charlie’s suggestion earlier, Dean decided against asking specifically for a ‘hot’ guy. He dreaded to think what kind of douchebags that would answer the ad proclaiming themselves to be an adonis. 

And, despite knowing since he was young that he was bisexual, he decided to aim the ad towards guys. His few relationships with women had never worked out. Even though this was all going to be fake, Dean would like to be able to at least get on with the person. 

In the end, he decided on a short and simple ad:

‘Hi, I’m Dean (28M) looking for a guy to take as my date to my stupid high school reunion next Saturday. Message if interested (no weirdos)’

He posted the ad and then spotted the time at the top of the screen. 

Midnight. Shit. 

He closed the website and dashed upstairs as fast as his tired legs could carry him. 

*  *  * 

The next morning, Dean got woken up by the feel of sunlight shining on his face. He must have forgotten to shut the curtains before he passed out last night. 

His blood ran cold when he realised that the sun shining on his face meant only one thing. He was late for work. He scrambled around looking for his phone to check the time but it was nowhere to be found. 

Suddenly, it came to him. He must have left his phone on the counter in the kitchen, meaning he didn’t hear his alarms going off. 

He cursed himself and sped to get ready. Quickly sniffing a shirt to check it was okay to wear, he got dressed and raced downstairs. Sure enough, his phone was sat on the table where he'd sat the night before. 

When he picked it up he found that it had also run out of battery overnight. 

Great. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. 

Forgetting all else on his mind, Dean grabbed his phone and dash out of the front door. 

*  *  *

The ad remained forgotten until a few days later. 

Dean was just about to sit down and relax with a beer when his phone lit up with a notification. He put his beer down on a coaster to check it out. 

It was a message from Craigslist telling him someone has been trying to contact him about his ad. 

Dean’s eyes went wide. He’d completely forgotten about the ad for a date after being late for work and being chewed out by his boss. He couldn't believe someone had actually responded. He looked at the date for the first message. This guy had contacted him like an hour after he’d posted the ad. 

He opened the message. 

(01:28) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: Hello. I saw your ad for a date to your reunion. It says I’m only 10 miles from your location. I’m interested in helping you out. Are you still in need of assistance?

(10:11) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I assume, as you haven’t replied, that you’ve decided to go with someone else for your date. 

(11:20) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: On second thought, this ad was probably a joke. Please ignore my messages. 

Wow. This dude talked funny. And reading that last message, Dean felt a little sorry for the guy too. He seemed lonely. But beggars can’t be choosers, so Dean prepared to reply. 

As he went to type, he noticed the guy’s username and smiled to himself. 

(19:37) impala67 says: don’t worry dude! the position as my date is still open. you’re the only one who has responded. 

PS. I like your username. you a Black Wing fan too? 

The reply was almost immediate.

(19:41) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: Okay. What information do you need from me?

PS. You could say so. 

‘You could say so’? Was this guy purposefully trying to be mysterious? Either way, Dean was intrigued. 

(19:45) impala67 says: idk dude, just the basics I guess. how old u are, what u look like

(19:53) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I’m 30 years old. I have blue eyes and dark hair. I’m 6 feet tall. Anything else?

Dean hummed to himself. The guy sounded pretty average, which was okay with him.

(19:55) impala67 says: nah, that’s awesome dude. anything you want to know? 

(19:58) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I suppose it would be nice to know what you look like too. Also, if you don’t mind me prying, I wondered why you need to have a date for a school reunion. And why have you turned to Craigslist to find it?

Dean was set aback by this guy’s forwardness. But, he did have a right to know what he was getting into Dean supposed. 

(20:05) impala67 says: you already know I’m 28. I have green eyes. sort of light brown hair and i’m around 6’2”. as for the other shit. high school was a shit show. I’ve always been a bit nerdy i guess. people didn’t like it. then I realised I’m bi (hope that’s not a deal break btw). tried asking this guy out senior year. got outed to the whole school. got a lot of shit for it. 

(20:11) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I’m sorry to hear that happened to you. No one deserves that. Why do you want to go back? No one would blame you for leaving and never going back. (Again, if you don’t mind me asking.)

Dean blinked at the screen. His forgotten beer was getting warm but he was fascinated by this guy. He seemed genuine and Dean felt himself wanting to share the darkest parts of himself with a complete stranger. He sighed and typed. 

(20:20) impala67 says: I guess I want to prove to those assholes that the things they said didn’t affect my life. even tho that’s not always the truth. I still struggle to accept myself i guess.

Dean chewed his lip, debating whether to include that last line or not. But, hey, he was asking this dude to be his date, the least he could do was be honest with him. He pressed send. 

Blue Eyes didn’t reply instantly this time and it made Dean nervous. He wished he could take back the last bit of the message. 

After a few anxious moments, Blue Eyes still hadn’t replied so Dean gave up, figuring he’d scared the guy away. He cursed himself and moved to put his Doctor Sexy DVDs into the player. He’d never admit it to anyone, not even Charlie, but Doctor Sexy was his comfort show. It provided him with a much needed distraction. 

A couple hours later, Dean was beginning to doze. The extra few beers he’d had cushioned him into a deep sleep. 

When he woke, surrounded by darkness with only the DVD menu playing to no one lighting the room, Dean rubbed his face tiredly and went to check his phone for the time. 

Instead of looking at the clock, Dean’s eyes were distracted by the Craigslist notification. Blue Eyes had messaged him back! Feeling a little foolish that he’d reacted too quickly before, Dean opened the message.

(23:23) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: You’re incredibly brave, Dean. Not many people would be able to do what you’re doing. 

Dean blushed in the darkness. Why were a random internet dude’s words affecting him so much? He didn’t really know what to say in response so he just sent a quick ‘thank you, dude.’

*  *  * 

Over the next few days leading up to the reunion, Dean carried on messaging Blue Eyes just to get to know him a little more. Turns out the dude is dorky as hell. And, despite the original impression he gave with the Black Wing username, the guy didn’t understand any of Dean’s other references. 

It had occurred to him after they’d been messaging for a while that Dean still didn’t know his name. 

When he confronted Blue Eyes about it, the man had taken a while to respond again and answered only with ‘I’d rather not disclose my full name at this time. But, you can call me C.’

Dean had been a little skeptical of the guy’s response at first. But then, he figured the worst case scenario was the guy turned out to be a catfish and Dean would just blow off the reunion altogether and go get drunk. And he couldn’t blame the guy for not wanting to give out personal details over Craigslist. 

The day before the reunion, they agreed it was probably best to meet somewhere a couple hours before so they had time to get to know each other in person and iron out the final details they’d need to know about each other. 

*  *  * 

Dean sat in the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at (public and easy to escape if things went south). He tried to stop his leg from trembling under the table. 

He was nervous for a couple of reasons. The obvious: this guy could turn out to be a creepy old dude stalking men on the internet. And the less obvious but more surprising to Dean: he actually wanted this to go well. Without even knowing what he looked like, Dean had found himself beginning to like the guy. Even if he wasn’t attracted to him when he finally saw Blue Eyes, Dean would be cool with being friends with him. 

His eyes were following the patterns in the wood on the table top when a deep voice came from above him. 

“Dean?” It asked, with nervous uncertainty. 

Dean swallowed and looked up to the source of the voice and- 

Holy shit! 

It was him! It was the Black Wing!

What was the guy’s name? Cas- something? Castile? Casteel? Castiel! That was it!

Holy fucking shit! This couldn’t be happening. 

Dean realised he’d been staring wide-eyed during his internal freak out and Blue Eyes, Castiel, was stood looking as nervous as Dean had felt before the surprise adrenaline took over his body. 

“Sorry, dude. Please sit down.” Dean gestured to the chair opposite him. He wiped his hands on his jeans, nerves starting to take over once again. 

Neither man spoke for a few moments. 

“So I-” Castiel began.

“I don’t-” Dean spoke too. 

Both men chuckled. “You go,” Dean told Castiel. 

Castiel smiled softly, “I suppose, from your reaction, you know who I am.”

Dean blushed. “Yeah. For what it’s worth, I’m a big fan.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. 

Now Castiel blushed, “Thank you, Dean.” His expression turned serious. “I hope you understand now why I didn’t give you my full name while we spoke online.”

“Yeah, of course, dude. Don’t want any crazies hunting you down.” Dean chuckled. 

Castiel chuckled with him. “Yes, something like that.”

“So, um, before we get into the details for later, I was wondering if I could ask you a question?”

“Of course, Dean. You were honest with me, it’s only fair I return the favour.” Castiel smiled. 

“It’s only because I watched one of your movies the other night with my best friend, Charlie-” who was totally gonna freak out when Dean told her about this “-but wasn’t there meant to be a solo Black Wing movie? Everyone in the fandom was talking about it and then suddenly you seemed to disappear. I guess, I’m just wondering why you changed your mind?” Dean asked, nervously. He was waiting for Castiel to tell him to go fuck himself (though Dean knew that Castiel wasn’t really that kinda guy). 

Castiel cleared his throat and met Dean’s eyes. “We were just about to go into production for the solo movie when my brother and his wife were killed in a head-on collision with a truck.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open. But, he could sense Castiel hadn’t finished so he stayed quiet. 

“The only blessing was that it was instant, so they didn’t suffer. That, and luckily their daughter, Claire, was at the babysitter’s at the time.” Castiel smiled, melancholy whispers gracing his features. 

Dean knew he barely knew the guy but he could sense when someone needed comfort so he reached across the table to place a soft touch on Castiel’s hand. 

“I took Claire into my care. And that ended my career as I knew it.” Castiel shrugged. “I was deeply disappointed to have to leave the movie, but Claire came first. And I didn’t want her to grow up in the spotlight, with people using her parents’ tragic death as a way to sell magazines. So I left the industry. That was three years ago and I haven’t looked back. Claire is five now and she’s all I could ever want.” 

Dean was awestruck. “Wow.” He breathed. “I can’t believe it.”

“What?” Castiel asked, head tilting in confusion. (If the situation wasn’t so serious, Dean would have struggled not to comment on how adorable he looked.) 

“Dude.” Dean choked. “You called me brave for wanting to face a coupla high school assholes. But you - you gave up your entire career to give the best life to your niece.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing.” 

Castiel blushed again (and Dean found he was slowly falling in love with that look on Castiel’s face). “I don’t know that I’m amazing, I just want a normal life for Claire and I.” He shrugged. 

“A normal life, huh?” Dean asked. “Well, I can try and help with that.” He lifted his hand from where it had been placed on Castiel’s and held it in the air between them. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m twenty eight. A bit of a nerd and in need of a date this evening.”

Castiel huffed a laugh and placed his hand in Dean’s, shaking it. “I’m Castiel Novak. I’m thirty. Uncle to a beautiful niece and I would be honoured if you’d let me be your date for this evening.” 

Dean’s face broke into a smile, which turned into a laugh that caused a smile to spread across Castiel’s cheeks. 

They let their hands settle naturally on top of the table. 

Now, with their barriers down, they began making plans and ideas for that evening. Though, if Dean were being honest, it felt like he’d known Castiel forever already. 

Eventually, after what felt like hours of talking, Castiel got up to finally get himself a coffee. It wasn’t until Castiel’s hand left his that Dean realised they’d been holding onto each other the whole time. 

*  *  *

Dean and Castiel ended up talking for so long in that coffee shop that they were late for the reunion. The party was in full swing when they arrived. 

Just before they entered the hall, Dean stopped in his tracks. 

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Castiel asked, worry etched into his features. 

“Are you sure about this, man? There’s a chance someone in there could recognise you or something. It’s not worth ruining your life plan over just for me to say ‘fuck you’ to a couple of dicks.” Dean stressed. 

Castiel reached to take Dean’s hand in his. “Some things are worth a little risk.” He whispered and walked with Dean through the hall doors. 

It seemed Dean had had nothing to worry about in the end. They’d spoken to a few people who had seemed genuinely interested in that Dean had been up to since graduation. And they barely batted an eye when he’d introduced Castiel as his boyfriend. (He’d meant to just call him his date but clearly his mouth had had other ideas.) Castiel himself had just placed a soft hand around Dean’s waist - stopping Dean from an internal panic. 

It was all going so well and Dean was starting to think Charlie had been right (again, damn her!). Maybe everyone had just grown up and moved on. 

Once they’d finished a conversation with the guy Dean sat next to in English class senior year, Castiel went to the bar to get them some drinks, whispering in Dean’s ear that he’d be back in a moment. Dean was a little sad Castiel hadn’t gone a bit further and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester.” The voice of Bela Talbot came from behind him. Dean turned with a scowl on his face. 

“Hello, Bela.” He said through gritted teeth. She’d been one of the main people instrumental in his forced coming out. 

“Goodness me, Dean. If I’d known how pretty you’d turn out, maybe high school could have gone a lot differently.” She practically purred, running a perfectly manicured finger along Dean’s cheek bone. “But, hey, there’s still time now, I could be the one to knock you straight again.”

Dean was frozen to the spot. He was back to being a scared kid, dealing with the loss of a parent and being taunted daily for his sexuality. He knew he shouldn’t have done this. He wasn’t brave. He was pathetic. He couldn’t even stand up to a school bully ten years later.

“Excuse me.” Castiel appeared suddenly at Dean’s side. “What did you say to him?” The look on his face was nothing short of murderous. 

“I’m just getting reacquainted with an old friend.” Bela answered, sickly sweet. “And who are you?”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “I’m Dean’s boyfriend and I don’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to him.” 

Dean’s eyes went wide. Earlier it had been a slip when he’d called Castiel his boyfriend but now Castiel was purposefully saying it? Dean didn’t dare to hope. 

Bela laughed, causing Castiel to glare even harder (honestly, if looks could kill, she’d be in hell). “Ah! So he’s definitely still gay then.” She said, lip curling with distaste. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s bisexual, not gay. I’d tell you to educate yourself, but clearly, after ten years you’re still the same bitch you’ll always be.” 

Bela looked taken aback, like no one had ever spoken to her like that before. 

Castiel didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he grabbed Dean’s hand and stormed out of the building.

It wasn’t until the cool evening air hit his face, that Dean finally snapped back to himself. They’d ended up in the parking lot, stood next to Dean’s car. 

“Cas..” Dean breathed.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel said, begging for forgiveness. “I just couldn’t stand the way she was speaking to you.” 

“Cas-” Dean spoke. 

“She was just so rude a-and small-minded. I hated it.” 

“Cas!” Dean raised his voice. Castiel snapped his jaw shut. “It’s okay. Thank you for sticking up for me.” Dean stepped closer to Castiel, playing with the lapel on Castiel’s suit jacket. 

Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes but Dean couldn’t hold his gaze. “I’m just embarrassed that I froze up. After all of this, I failed at standing up for myself. I’m pathetic.” 

Castiel placed his hands on Dean’s cheeks, forcing Dean to look at him. Green eyes finally met blue. “Dean, listen to me. It was incredibly brave to walk into that room tonight. You are the bravest person I’ve ever met.” He said earnestly. 

Dean couldn’t hold it in anymore. He hoped he wasn’t about to ruin this before it even started. But, as a wise man told him recently: some things are worth a little risk.

Wasting no more time, Dean pulled Castiel into a deep kiss. 

Once Castiel was on board, he pushed Dean up against the car behind them. 

After a few heated moments, of what can only be described as heavy making out, Dean growled at Castiel to get into the car before they got arrested for public indecency. 

They somehow made it back to Dean’s house but their clothes only managed to stay on long enough to get through the front door. Dean directed them to his room and threw Castiel down on the bed. 

He took in the sight of the beautiful man laid out under him before kissing up Castiel’s chest and took over his mouth again. The only words said between them were muttered assurances that they were on the same page. Dean could never have dreamed this is how this night would end but he certainly wouldn’t change a thing. 

*  *  *

The next morning, Dean and Castiel laid in each other’s arms, content to be together in the quiet. 

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Dean. “What about your niece?” He worried. “Don’t you need to get back to her?” He sat up frantically. 

“Dean, Dean, don’t worry.” Castiel raised his hands to calm the other man. “I texted my babysitter yesterday at the coffee shop asking her to stay with Claire for the night.” 

Dean relaxed into the bed, smirking a little. “So you knew how the night would end even before we got to the reunion.” 

Castiel blushed. “I wouldn’t say I knew. But I did hope.”

Dean smiled, pulling Castiel closer to place a tender kiss on the side of his head. “I hoped for it too.” He whispered. 

They settled into silence again, warm in each other’s company. 

A short while passed before either of them spoke again. 

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel murmured, breaking the quiet. 

“For what?” Dean frowned. 

“For thinking of Claire.” 

“Well, she’s important to you. She’s your whole world.” Dean shrugged. 

“Maybe my world could get a little bigger now.” Castiel suggested, smiling nervously up at Dean.”

“Yeah, I think it could.”

*  *  *

Later, as they dug into a couple of burgers Dean threw together, another thought crossed Dean’s mind. 

“Cas?”

“Hmm?” Castiel hummed around the burger in his mouth.

“Why were you looking through Craigslist ads in the first place?”

Castiel swallowed and chuckled to himself. “Sometimes I look through to find funny ads people put up.”

Dean was beginning to get a little offended when Castiel reached across the table to hold his hand. 

“But, the night that I saw your ad, I had just put Claire to bed and I was feeling lonely. I took a risk. And I think it worked.” Castiel smiled shyly. 

“Hell yeah, it did!” Dean grinned from ear to ear. 

*  *  *

Charlie’s phone vibrated next to her. She paused the video game she was playing to pick it up. Seeing it was a text from Dean, she opened it immediately. 

On her screen was a selfie of Dean with another dark haired dude captioned:

‘I should take your advice more often Bradbury.’

Her eyes turned to saucers and she looked at the image again more closely. She frowned slightly, looking at the man whose cheek Dean was kissing. 

Wait- That totally looked like-

Her phone dinged with a new message from Dean. 

‘And yes, it’s exactly who you think it is.’

HOLY FRIGGIN SHIT! 

-

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it Taylor! 

If you liked what you saw, REBLOG! and consider reserving a prompt from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ challenge, or just send me your own prompt you’d like me to fill!

-

TAGS: @eccentriccas @starrynightdeancas @credentiast @imbiowaresbitch @starclaire @cockleslovesdestiel @bend-me-shape-me @destielfactory @dea-stiel @wendeano @wingsandimpalas @aggressivedean @flowersforcas @chill-legilimens @pancakesofthelord @saltnhalo @caslikescoffeeandfreckles @assbuttboyfriends @jhoomwrites @breathingdestiel @simplymisha @thekingslover @aelysianmuse

Castiel rolls his eyes at Ketch’s complaints. Complaints about everything, really, but mostly about The Interview. Ketch literally won’t shut up about it. He hasn’t mentioned anything else since Cas came out of his bedroom at half past ten yesterday morning. Ketch’s spare key is meant to be for emergencies only, but whatever; Cas is long since used to Ketch dropping by whenever he feels like it, exclusively for managerial purposes of course. Can’t have your client off doing something you haven’t personally approved and scheduled, after all.

“We need to get out in front of this.” Ketch is typing madly on his phone, thumbs flying. “You’re going to have to do something.”

“I know, Ketch.” Cas sighs wearily. “But another interview immediately after his would be—”

“Yes, tacky, yes,” Ketch interrupts. “Not quite an interview, then. Just a brief chat with the press.”

“A brief chat?”

“Yes, that’s a good idea, Castiel. Let someone catch you outside and ask you about it.”

Cas rubs his temple. “And what, pray tell, is my response to these claims?”

Ketch’s fingers pause. He looks at Cas who is still lying across the plush couch in the living room, one eyebrow raised and unamused.

“That they are ridiculous, obviously. That you are decidedly not a Neanderthal, regardless of what sniveling psychiatrists think of you. And of course you can use that to plug Amazing Grace’s charity event coming up next weekend. Neanderthals don’t dote on orphans, do they?”

“Certainly not.” Cas nods, even though Ketch is already turned away from him, focused on his cell phone again. Sighing, Cas resigns himself to whatever scheme Ketch will brew up for him.

Ketch has been managing Cas’s career for years now. Even before he’d starred in his first major film and was slowly working his way into the acting scene with small roles on TV, Ketch was there for Cas. It’s hard to imagine where he’d be without Ketch’s brains and ability to schmooze anyone, to dig up any and all information he needs, and to get his way. Ketch is a mental powerhouse like Cas is a physical one.

And Ketch had determined—apparently through sheer force of will and probably calling in a few favors—which café was Dr. Winchester’s favorite and arranged for his driver Gadreel to drop Cas off there that very afternoon.

It’s cutesy, with a whimsical name and decór to match. Cas wonders idly what will happen after the press (who Ketch has no doubt alerted about this little outing) find it. He steps inside anyway, shrugging off his denim jacket and pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. The end of March had brought warmer temperatures to Los Angeles, spring blossoming everywhere you look.

And right in the middle of it all is Dean. He’s seated at a table by the far windows, a steaming mug and a book in front of him. He’s… kind of cute, actually. Cuter than he’d looked on television anyway, which Cas knows to partially be the fault of the unforgiving lights and the clothes and makeup and hairstyle recommended for him. Gone is the tweed jacket, cream button down, and brown slacks. In their place are stylish black shoes, dark jeans, and a light pink button down with the sleeves rolled up. His hair is not that slicked up mess from yesterday, but rather a soft fluff at the top of his head and it’s a darker brown than it had appeared on TV. And there’s some stubble on his jaw, like Dean has been avoiding a razor for the past two days. As he makes his way over, Cas is utterly unashamed to think that this look much better suits the doctor.

“I’m thinking it’s kind of weird to read one’s own book, so this is likely something else. ‘How to Score a Date with a Neanderthal’ perhaps?”

If he’d startled Dean, the other man doesn’t show it. He blinks, taking in the fact that Cas is now standing in front of him at a perfectly average coffee shop just outside of L.A.—and is not just a face on a screen—remaining perfectly calm.

“Oh please,” Dean finally says, looking up at Cas with an unamused expression. “Like it’s hard.”

Cas drapes his jacket over the quaint fake-distressed chair across from Dean. Cute though he might be, Dean Winchester is still a douchebag and Cas needs to remember that. “Harder than writing bullshit about someone you’ve never met. That is, obviously, quite easy.”

“For your information,” Dean starts, closing his book with a snapping sound. “I have not once pretended like I was writing about you with personal experience. I’ve said numerous times that we’ve never met and, frankly, I avoided writing anything about you that wasn’t an actual fact based on what you or your management has said to the public. Family information is easy to get from newspapers, medical and police documents, you name it. Everything was legal. All I did was draw connections between my research and people like you.” Dean takes a sip from his mug. Smug bastard.

“People like me,” Cas repeats. “You don’t know any people like me, sweetheart.”