#destiel edit

He surveyed the gym, seeming to take in the cacophony of the place before his eyes began to wander in Castiel’s general direction. Castiel’s stomach plunged to his shoes. He tore his gaze away so they wouldn’t make eye contact. At the same time, he stepped slightly to the side, praying the bag would hide him from view. Maybe Dean hadn’t seen him yet.

Surely, Dean couldn’t have been there for him. This must have been a coincidence. How would Dean even find him?

But when Castiel risked a peek, Dean was walking right toward him. Dean’s gait was loose and easy. He wore a beaten brown leather jacket over pleated trousers and a slim-fitting knit shirt. A straw boater hat sat atop his head. As he approached, he swiveled his head around to eye one of the men doing chest presses on a bench.

Castiel hadn’t realized he’d stopped punching until Luc reprimanded him. “What’s’a matter? I didn’t say stop.”

“I…” Castiel’s mouth was agape, but the only thing that came out of it was hot air.

He’d wondered if he’d ever see Dean again. He’d figured, if it ever happened, they’d return to being strangers again. He’d never anticipated that Dean would accost him at his gym. Yet, there he was, coming to a stop right next to Castiel’s heavybag. His grin was broad and handsome, and his eyes were much greener in the daylight than they’d been at the party.

“Hey there, Cas. How’s tricks?”

“Who the hell are you?” Luc asked, practically looking down his nose at Dean. He pointed his finger and waved it up and down Dean’s body. “Judging from the get-up, I’m guessing you’re not trying to steal our bag.”

“This is Dean Winchester,” Castiel said before Dean could answer. “He’s… an acquaintance.”

Dean tipped his head in a kind of nod and said, “Oh, yeah, we’re real well acquainted. Mind if I have a second with Cas here?”

Castiel hoped Luc would say no. Unfortunately, he said to Castiel, “I better go see if our guy’s here yet, anyway. Be back in five.”

Castiel hoped that his expression remained blank. He thought some of his fraught energy was showing in his eyes when Luc walked off, leaving him alone with Dean.

Dean, whose lips were still pressed into a sly smile. His eyes were shining. Castiel busied himself with taking off his gloves to avoid Dean’s gaze.

“Lookin’ pretty good without the bruises,” Dean said, leaning his shoulder gently against the bag.

“What do you want?” Castiel demanded, hoping to move this along.

Dean reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his fist, holding it out. “You left these behind the other night. Thought you might want them back,” he said as he dropped two gold items onto Castiel’s wrapped palm.

At first, Castiel didn’t recognize them—and then he remembered. They were cufflinks he’d bought for the party, but only because Daphne had been distraught by the fact that he hadn’t been dressed to the theme.

“Oh,” he said. He hadn’t realized he’d even lost them. He folded his fingers over them, and all he could focus on was how warm they were from Dean’s bodyheat. Castiel stuffed them into the pocket of his sweatpants. “Thank you. For bringing them to me. It wasn’t necessary.”

Dean shrugged. Why was he still smiling? Had Castiel done something amusing?

“Well, you know. Figured they might have some sentimental value.” His eyes dragged up and down Castiel in a way that made Castiel too aware of the sweat pooling on his clothes. He glanced down at Dean’s faded two-toned shoes.

“Why would they?” he asked, his eyes flickering back up even though he tried to stop them.

Dean’s features rearranged, going from confused to surprised and then back to confused. “Wait,” he said, standing up from the bag and leveling one of his palms between them. There was a dusting of freckles across his knuckles. “You really didn’t mean to leave those for me to find?”

Castiel tilted his head, because now he was confused, too. “Why would I purposefully forget them?”

“So I’d bring them back to you!” Dean said, both of his arms flying out to the sides. “So we’d see each other again. It’s the oldest trick in the book.”

“What book?”

Dean gaped for a long second. “The book!”

He wasn’t making any sense. Castiel shook his head, irritation spiking. He was tired and hungry and he didn’t have time for this. “Dean, I don’t know about any book. And I certainly wasn’t trying to trick you.”

Castiel thought that would be it and Dean would leave. But Dean continued to linger, still staring at Castiel, but in a guarded way now. He stayed quiet.

“Did you… come here for something else?” Castiel guessed.

It seemed to knock Dean out of his stupor. He stood a little straighter and his lips twisted. Castiel thought the tips of his pointed ears were slightly pinker than before. “No. Nope. All good.”

“Okay.” Why was he still standing there? “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Yeah. See ya, Cas.” Dean turned away and walked off quickly, seeming much stiffer than he had been when he’d entered.

Castiel watched him for a long moment before turning away. He was about to pick his gloves up from the floor and find Luc, but then something Dean said hit him.