#model!cas

“I’m Castiel,” the man offered with a quirk of a smile.  His voice was deep and gruff and his blue eyes sparkled and Dean knew he was a goner.

Dean mutely nodded while shaking the man’s hand before he snapped himself out of it.  “Dean,” he coughed, clearing his throat in an attempt to mask his ogling, and began asking Castiel a series of questions in the hopes of getting to know him better in the short time provided.  

That night flew by in a flurry of sketches and visions of beautiful, clear, blue eyes.  Dean didn’t get much sleep that night but, when it came time to leave the painters’ house and head to the studio, he had a clear vision and plan for bringing Castiel to life in his art.  Dean and the rest of the competitors arrived in the work room and started getting everything they needed set up and before they knew it, the show’s host and models were joining the artists.

“Painters, a reminder: you have five and a half hours to bring your model’s story to life in a full body look.  Good luck!  Your time starts… now.”

The work room suddenly erupted in motion as the painters began their work.  Dean picked up his airbrush and began to get the base coat of paint of Castiel’s skin so that he’d have something to build off of during the coming hours.  “I’ve got a couple of sketches you can take a look at, if you’d like,” Dean offered, passing some papers to Castiel “something to do while I put the base colors down on your skin.”

The model looked at the drawings Dean had created and his breath caught in his throat, causing the painter to look up at him.

“Everything ok, Cas?” Dean asked.

Castiel’s lips formed a small smile.  “This is beautiful, Dean,” he replied.  “It’s so detailed and I just… I just get it.  Does that make sense?”

Dean grinned up at Castiel.  “It makes perfect sense.”  Dean went back to painting, talking to Cas while he worked.  He got to know his model more and more and allowed the things he was learning about the man inform the decisions he was making as he painted.  It barely even registered with him when the judges paid his work station a visit part way through the challenge.  Honestly, if Castiel hadn’t pointed their presence out, Dean might have all together missed his chance to answer questions about his work and get feedback, that’s how wrapped up he was in his work… and in Cas.  

The rest of the time flew by, Dean not even noticing the looks that the other painters were giving him as he painted and conversed with Castiel.  He had been rather stoic throughout the competition - both in the work room and in the artists’ house - and to see him opening up like this with one of the models was the last thing they had expected.  Before either Dean or Cas realized it, the host was back in the room, calling for the painters to put down their brushes.  It was time for judging.

Dean sat and watched all of the models come down the runway one by one, showing off the art that the painters had created on their bodies.  There were some really good pieces, Dean saw, and some that were not as good as others and he could only hope that his would stand up against the better work in this challenge.  As soon as Cas rounded the corner onto the runway, Dean’s eyes were glued on him.  The front of his piece was nice but it was when Castiel stopped at the end of the runway and closed his eyes for a moment before turning around that Dean really held his breath.  

The model turned his back on the judges and raised his arms out to the side, revealing the full extent of Dean’s design and the painter chanced a look at the judges’ table.  Their stony expressions didn’t give anything away but the gasp from one of his fellow painters certainly made him feel good.  

Once the last model made his way back up the runway, it was time for the real judging to begin and one by one the painters were called forward.

“Dean, please tell us about your work.”

Dean stepped forward as Castiel came down the runway again.  He still couldn’t believe how much he had accomplished in just five and a half hours.  The front half of his model’s body legitimately looked like he was wearing clothes.  “So, Cas told me about how he was raised in a strict family - lots of siblings, lots of rules, that kind of thing - and how he never felt like he really fit.  So that’s what the front represents.  The suit and overcoat is what he would have worn to the job that his family expected of him but it’s messy and it’s designed so that it literally doesn’t fit him quite right.  But then, as the paint moves up into his face, things start to change.”  

Castiel closed his eyes and the glowing blue Dean had painted on his eyelids was on display.    

“Cas was named after an angel and that’s where the inspiration for the rest of the paint came from.  The face and the back are the angel flying away, freeing himself from the expectations and pressures of his family and pursuing his dreams.”

Castiel turned around, showing off the back of the piece Dean had painted.  Dark and beautiful wings covered much of the man’s back and arms and when he extended his arms, he truly looked like he would be able to take flight.  

“Dean, the front is great, really well done, but the back of your piece is absolutely breathtaking,” one of the judges commented as Cas turned back to face the front of the room again.  

“And, Castiel, do you feel like Dean captured your story in all of this?” another judge asked.

Dean looked to Cas as the man nodded, swiping at his face a bit.  “Yeah,” he affirmed, “Dean listened to me more than anyone has in a long time.  I am so, so pleased with his work.”

-----

“Hey, Cas,” Dean called out, stopping the model.  He might be breaking the rules of the competition right now but the day was over and he really couldn’t have cared less if he was.  “I, uh, I’m not really allowed to go out right now with the show and all but… I’d like to see you.  When this is all done?”

Castiel smiled at Dean and the painter’s heart started to beat faster.  “I would like that.”  A blush grew on Castiel’s cheeks as he pulled a pen out of his bag and scribbled his phone number on Dean’s hand.  “Call me when all of this,” he said, waving his hands around to indicate the competition, “is over.”

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***

Being on the horse wasn't as bad as he had feared. The animal was big, certainly, but there was a certain euphoria he felt sitting astride it. Maybe he would have to think about taking lessons someday.

"Cassie, love, stop looking down at the horse," Balthazar shouted. "Your public wants to see those lovely bedroom eyes. I don't want Dr. Doolittle. I want sinful, smouldering sex!"

Cas looked up, smouldered for the camera, and Balthazar made slightly less displeased noises. Behind him, Crowley was yelling at an intern who was headed to the decrepit old staff car. To their left, cas could see a man riding up on a black horse. He started to wonder if the new guy was another model for the shoot or an employee of the stables when a sharp sound echoed through the air around them, and the previously docile horse under Castiel startled ... and sprinted away.

He could hear people yelling behind him, but all Cas could do was grab onto the reins and hold on for dear life. He thanked whoever looked out for foolish models that the gate was open and that the horse made right for it instead of trying to jump the fence. He lost track of time -- surely it had only been a few minutes at most, but it somehow felt both instantaneous and interminable before there was a horse beside him.

It was the black horse -- definitely not another model then, Cas thought hysterically -- as the riding paced his horse, angling it to gently off its course, whistling and making other apparently calming sounds. The horse Cas was on started slowing to an easy jog, then a walk, and eventually stopped.

Cas sat as still as possible, trying to remember how to breathe.

"Are you all right?" Cas looked over at his rescuer and found the greenest eyes he had ever seen staring at him in concern.

"I ... yes, I think I am." His heart was racing and he felt sore all over, but he was in one piece. "Thank you, um...."

"Dean Winchester," the stranger said with an easy smile -- as if saving stray models from runaway horses was no big deal. "This is my family's farm."

Cas deliberately unclenched his hands from their death grip on the reins, rubbing at the grooves across his palms.

"I am really sorry about this. They were supposed to put you up on Foxtrot, he's a real gentleman. But apparently not as photogenic as Whiskey here." Dean leaned forward and patted the horse's neck soothingly. "She's a good girl, but still a little skittish. Unfortunately, when the snooty guy in the suit insisted on the switch, I was up at the house, and the groom on site wasn't quite able to stand up to him."

"I quite understand. Crowley can be ...."

"A dick?"

Cas laughed. "To put it succinctly."

"Hmmm. People usually just say I'm an ass. I think I like succinct better." He looked back the way they had come. "So, it's not too far back to your people. You want to ride, or walk?

"Walk, please," Cas responded with conviction.

Dean dismounted with an obscene grace and walked over to Cas, holding a hand out to help him off his horse. He took the reins from both horses in his hand and motioned for Cas to walk with him.

"You been riding long?"

Cas almost looked around to see who Dean was talking to. "No, I've never ridden a horse before."

Dean whistled, impressed. "I'm really damn impressed that you stayed up, then. You've got a great seat."

"Sheer survival instinct," Cas replied.

"Well, it works for you, Cas," Dean laughed.

Cas tilted his head looked over at Dean. "You know my name?"

Dean's eyes widened, and a flush spread across his face. "Oh, uh. Well... yeah. I mean, you're pretty well-known. I musta just picked it up somewhere. But, sorry, I  mean we haven't even been actually introduced and I'm using your nickname and --"

"It's fine, Dean. I think saving me from a runaway horse entitles you to a little familiarity." Not to mention the way Cas's heart had jumped just a little at the sound of Dean's voice forming his name. It  had been a long time since he'd felt anything like that. He definitely wanted Dean to keep talking. He wondered if it would be too forward to ask Dean out for coffee

"You grew up here?"

"Yep." Dean beamed as he looked around. "I love this place. Been in my family for a few generations now. Can't imagine any place more beautiful. Or more peaceful."

Cas looked over the rolling green pastures up to the tree-shaded mountains in the distance. Unseen birds chirped and chattered. It was peaceful, and beautiful, and so alive.

"'Course it's probably nothing next to what you've seen. All over the country, hell, even the world. You must have seen some really amazing things.

"My life is probably not as glamorous as you might think. There are times ... "

He sighed when he realized they were almost back to the main paddock, where a crowd of people was waiting. Balthazar was right in front, snapping away as they approached.

"You, cowboy!" Crowley's voice rang out. "You need to come sign these papers."

Dean frowned. "I've already signed everything."

"We need permission to use your image in the campaign."

"What?" Cas asked.

"What?" Dean echoed.

"The two of you walking back. The mountains, the sun, the horses -- just perfect, darling." Balthazar practically purred. "He'll sign, right? These pictures are magic! It would be a travesty not to use them."

Meg thrust a sheaf of papers and a pen in front of a bemused Dean.

He glanced at them briefly, then yelled, "Hey Sammy!"

A tall, handsome man walked over and Balthazar jabbed Castiel in the ribs. "Are all horsemen were this sexy?" He looked between Dean and 'Sammy.' "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Dean glared at Balthazar. "Dude. Not cool. This is my brother, Sam Winchester. He's a lawyer." He shoved the papers into Sam's hand. "Read this and tell me if I'm signing my soul away. I've got to go take care of Whiskey." He turned to Crowley. "Any other pictures you want, you take on Foxtrot. End of story." He pivoted on his heel and led the two horses away before Cas had a chance to say anything else.

Everyone stood there watching as Dean disappeared into the stable. Then Crowley barked, "What's everyone standing around for? Let's get back to it, people!"

***

Although Cas kept an eye out through the rest of the shoot, he didn't see Dean again. Crowley disappeared for a while and came back looking pretty satisfied, so Cas assumed that Dean had signed the release paperwork.

When they started packing up, Cas found himself lingering much longer than he normally would after a shoot: half hoping Dean would turn up, and half trying to absorb as much of the living energy of the area as possible.

"Something I can help you with, Clarence?"

Meg looked entirely too amused when Castiel turned to face her. "No, thank you, Meg. I'm just enjoying the feel of this place."

"Sure. This ... place ... is quite attractive." She nodded over his shoulder. "Hey there, Dean."

Cas narrowed his eyes, unsure if she was baiting him or not, until he heard Dean's voice. "Meg. Cas, I was hoping to catch you."

"Well, you almost missed him. Last car's about to leave, Castiel. You do have a flight to catch."

"I'll just be a minute, Meg."

She pursed her lips, then threw her hands up in the air.  "One minute, Castiel. You miss your flight, Crowley will feed me to his dogs." She stalked over to the car and leaned against the side. At Cas's glare, she at least pretended to divert her attention to her phone.

"Dean," he said warmly as he turned back to find him shuffling nervously.

"So, yeah, don't wanna make you late. It's not ... Just, y'know, if you ever just want to take a break, we've got a couple of guest rooms up at the house. You'd be welcome to come hang around. I could even give you some riding lessons." He coughed abruptly. "Horses. Ride horses. Lessons for riding horses. You know what? Never mind. This was such a bad idea." His face was flaming red as he took a step away from Cas.

Cas stepped forward until he was well within Dean's personal space. "Not a bad idea. A very, very good idea."

Dean's eyes lit up and a soft smile curved his lips.

"That's great, then. Um..." He dug a business card out of his pocket and held it up between them. "Stable's info on the front, my personal cell is on the back. Anytime you're free."

"I'll have to check my commitments, but I would like to come back as soon as possible."

"Works for me."

Dean licked his lips as Cas stepped so close they were almost touching. For a moment, they stood still, watching each other. Then they were kissing -- Cas couldn't tell to save his life who had ultimately made the move -- a soft, almost tentative, press of lips that he felt in his very core. Before he got more than the faintest taste, a car horn beeped.

He pulled back to see Meg looking almost genuinely apologetic. She tapped her wrist.

"You gotta go," Dean murmured.

"I will be back."

Not trusting himself to allow only one more kiss, he stepped back, taking the card from Dean's hand and nodding. He looked back once he had settled himself in the car to see Dean still watching and waved. As the car drove away, he pulled out his phone and entered Dean's phone number before he began composing an email to Crowley instructing him to decline any new jobs for the time being.

*** Dean waits a half hour before a car finally pulls into the driveway. He can't figure out if he's hoping these four will be normal, or has already decided they're like the rest. At least their lateness has made Naomi beyond pissed, so she's sitting like a firm push to her forehead will crack her in half. It's a little hilarious.

What's more hilarious is that the four who come bursting through the door look like they belong to a different species than the ones sitting vigil in the living room—let alone a different family.

The first one to come in is short, with auburn hair and two-day stubble. He's holding a bag from Target and is chewing a Twix as he obnoxiously announces his entrance. "We're hOOome!"

Naomi's eye twitches.

This causes shorty to quirk the corner of his mouth up in a ghost of a smirk, and the bottle redhead behind him to crack up. She's pretty, with pale skin and big blue eyes, and Dean finds himself smiling too. That is, until two seemingly identical faces poke out from behind the two—then Dean grins. Widely.

Twins.

The one on the left nudges his sister in an attempt to get her to shut up, but he's on the brink of losing it too so that's a lost cause. But the one on the right... he looks distressed. Like, majorly so.

Where Leftie is laid back and wearing shorts and a polo, appropriate for the hotness of the day, Mr.Distressed has one slacks and a shirt and tie and a goddamn /trenchcoat/. The guy looks like he's gonna do an accounting infomercial before heading to church, and the frazzled way he runs his hands through his hair and bites his dry lips only proves the theory. The guy immediately glares at his siblings and rushes to his mom, "Mother, I apologize—"

One cold look from Naomi has him as ramrod straight as the rest. "Not in front of company, Castiel."

There's a minute slouch to Castiel's shoulders, like he's used to be treated like this, that has Dean frowning. He isn't frowning when Castiel turns to look at him, though, then he's smiling. He wants the guy to cheer up. "Hey," he says. "I'm Dean."

Castiel is the first of the family to offer his hand. "Castiel," he says back, a smiling slowly stretching his own lips. "But you can call me Cas."

*** Dean really likes Cas.

Where Gabriel and Anna and Jimmy are vindictive towards their mother--and honestly who wouldn't be, the woman is a pain in the ass—Cas stays off to the side and doesn't get involved. If his mom asks him for something, Cas does it and that's the end. He doesn't ass-kiss like Michael or the rest of the androids, or purposely ruin ever single one of Dean's shots like the others. Gabriel is definitely the worst for that.

Dean gets some nice shots of the Rebel siblings, and some decent ones of the Androids, and some really nice candids of each (though the candids of Naomi and her flock look like portraits, whatever). He gets the best pictures of Cas.

Cas is kind of a dorky, weird little guy. He sits and looks out the window wistfully until he's outdoors, at which point he makes a beeline for the hanging swing in the garden. He waits there until the rest of the family is ready, watching the flowers and the bees, and when everyone decides they want to walk down to the beach, Cas happily follows along. He takes off his shoes and socks and rolls up his pants and sighs as he goes almost knee-deep into the water. Waves lap up agains his legs and spray his pants, while the end of his trench dips into the wet. It's the only time his mother almost has a heart-attack ("Castiel, get out of the water, you'll ruin your pants!" "CASTIEL!") and Cas resolutely ignores her.

So yeah, maybe he took a lot of pictures of him. Maybe he even likes him a little bit.

Maybe that disgusts Naomi and makes Gabriel tease him in between shots.

Whatever.

***

Castiel is supremely nervous. When Dean had pulled him aside after the disastrous "Novak Family Photoshoot" and asked him to stop by his office once the pictures were ready, Cas had agreed wholeheartedly. Why not? Surely the handsome photographer had spoken to his mother and was going to give him the prints.

Now, Castiel isn't so sure.

Mostly because Dean's office is the administrative space of an auto-repair shop and junkyard.

But sure enough, when the grouchy proprietor of the shop leads Cas into what appears to be his own house and towards the small office in the back, there is Dean's card taped to the door.

Still, when Cas knocks and Dean ushers him inside, it becomes clear there will be no giving of prints.

The desk is piled high with invoices and other papers Castiel has zero interest in. What he does focus on, is the fact that Dean has clears himself a small space for his iMac and tablet, and works on his pictures there. He's also wearing a mechanic's jumpsuit.

Castiel hopes he wasn't called here to receive a lawsuit for his awful family.

"So." Dean looks nervous too, and Cas feels his own stomach drop. Something happened. Something's wrong. Maybe he lost the pictures and they'll all have to deal with Naomi's wrath. "This is gonna look a lot worse than it actually is, and I'm sorry."

"...Sorry?" It's the first real thing Castiel has said and it makes Dean smile a little bit.

"Uh, yeah." He moves his chair slightly over. "Come over here and you'll see."

With no small amount of hesitation, Cas does as he's bid, looking at the screen when Dean motion from him to do so. His frown deepens. "These are... pictures of me."

Dean looks like he's going to die of embarrassment. "Yeah."

Tilting his head to the side, Cas scrolls through over 500 pictures on the screen. "These are... all pictures of me?"

Now, Dean drags a hand down his face. "Yeah."

Cas's heart is suddenly in his throat. "Where are the family pictures?"

"Oh, I sent those to your mom," Dean grimaces. "I just didn't want to send her..."

"All of these."

"Yeah."

Cas stares.

"Okay look." Dean throws his hands in the air. "I got carried away, okay? I admit that. I just—do you want them or not?"

Heart now in his throat for an entirely different reason, Castiel moves to sit on the arm of Dean's chair, carefully looking through the pictures. He honestly cannot believe what he sees. "Are these really me?"

Dean nods, seemingly more comfortable with this vein of conversation. "Yeah, dude." When he leans in, his side brushes Cas's. "You're a good-looking guy."

Castiel blushes.

"Wait, this one's my favourite."

It's when Naomi had been yelling about his pants getting wet, but Dean had managed to capture the split second when Cas had looked back and smiled at something Jimmy had said.

It's amazing.

"That's not me," Cas breathes.

"Yeah, man, it is."

Castiel is so overwhelmed by the softness of Dean's voice, he doesn't even think before speaking. "Would you like to go out for a meal?"

A pause. "Um..."

"Like a date." His voice gets higher and more nervous with every second and Cas wishes he would just stop talking. "With me. A date with me. Together. A—"

"Cas." A hand on his arm. "Yeah, I'd love to go on a date with you."

Cas stops. "...Really?"

"Well, yeah." Dean smirks. "Clearly I already think you're hot so..."

Castiel blushes tenfold now, clearing his throat as he stands and smooths his hands over his clothing. "Ah. Yes. Alright well. I should go. You can email me. Or call me. You have my card." He backs away and hits the door, becoming even more flustered. "Goodbye."

"Hey, wait!"

Cas barely stops himself from running out of the door, only relaxing minutely when Dean presses palms to his forearms in an attempt to calm him. "Hey look, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. Sometimes I come on way too strong."

Cas's eyes widen. "Um."

"Here." Dean hands over a small print of his favourite picture, tucked away in a clear ziplock. "I'll, ah, call you tonight?"

"I would like that," Castiel breathes.

Dean smiles widely. "Cool," he murmurs. "Me too."

"Bye, Dean."

"Bye, Cas."