Chapter Text
Ankle deep in a murky creek, mud squishing between his toes, Dean feels anxiety well in the back of his throat. Standing in the questionable water had felt like a brilliant idea when Gabe first proposed the video for this particular song. Really, it had made perfect sense for a song called “Gabe’s Cold Water Blues.” Overheated from his nervousness, the water feels even colder than the spring wind. He has even worked himself up that even the icy mud between his toes feel kind of refreshing in its own disgusting way. Much of Dean’s anxiety is spurred on by his own insecurities and the deep pensive look that currently lines the face of his band member, Castiel Novak.
Castiel, the professional dancer of the group, was trained in all things ballet, jazz, tap, Irish, and contemporary dance. To see Castiel from across the stage was seeing a true artist perform. The man was magnetic. He was cool, confident, and composed. Every move was fluid, like seeing crystal water rush down a creek bubbling over rocks and skirting around fallen logs. Dean couldn’t stop himself from feeling in awe of him, he definitely deserved it. Cas always made him feel uneasy in his own skin, a feeling that Dean wasn’t familiar with, ever since he first saw the man across the stage on tour three years ago.
Dean would never admit, even to himself at times, that the welling of emotions and the unsteadiness in the pit of his stomach was more than anxiety, admiration, and awe… Dean Winchester had a huge man-crush on Castiel Novak.
His maybe crush had started so quickly, unexpectedly. Dean had been part of the band for that leg of the summer tour, lending his skill at guitar when he first saw Castiel dance. It was some ridiculous song, something about monkeys jumping off the bed? Castiel had leaped into the air, face beatific and legs so strong that he'd stunned Dean. He had watched, entranced for the rest of the show, for the rest of the tour really. Dean admired from afar, never gaining the courage to speak to Castiel; just long looks across the stage during practice or during all their performances.
Today though…they are so close, so different from having a stage in-between them, being out in the creek waiting on the cameraman to get ready is a whole different dynamic that Dean did not expect.
“You alright there, Cas?” Charlie asks, her black and blue skirt swishing back and forth, holding the ukulele.
“I’m well, just trying to get in the headspace for the song,” Castiel replies quietly.
“It’s supposed to be fun, Cas, not Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony that you are going to be performing,” Gabe shouts from the bank, the bright buttons of his lederhosen twinkling sharply against the red of his shirt in the sunlight.
Letting out a deep suffering sigh, Cas looks to the heavens and then towards Dean. Dean tries his best to smile and nod reassuringly, but he’s sure it probably looks more like a grimace. He always acts like a moron around Cas, when he even dared to get close, the man’s intense magnetism short circuits Dean’s brain and makes him an idiot. He says stupid things and acts what his brother fondly refers to as overcompensatingly butch. Though, based on Cas' responding smile and the mirth in his eyes, Dean’s face must have arranged itself to look less constipated.
He’s worked himself into what his MeeMaw would call a “tizzy.” Dean has let his emotions run away from him, and even being on camera as himself is a whole new experience. Seriously, he needs to reign it in and keep it together. He’s been doing different parts for different videos, though they have been mostly in a dog costume, for Charlie for years and he’s not going to mess this up! Dean tells himself to snap the fuck out of it. Cas, too, has been dancing on stage and touring with the band and he’s not acting like a nincompoop. The only difference today is that both Castiel and Dean are now official band members, donning the yellow shirt and purple shirt respectively.
It’s not even their first day on the job, they’ve recorded an entire album in the studio and today was the start of working on the new music videos. That had been weeks ago. Singing about hot potatoes, glasses, rocking your bear to sleep, and even stupid fruit salad had been so playful and fun. Dean had a blast recording the different songs. Charlie and Gabe were geniuses, finding a niche of educational music for toddlers that was so damn catchy. He had enjoyed coming up with new music with Charlie and Gabe, Cas had taken a backseat upon their creation but it had seemed that he had enjoyed himself too. In the studio, Dean had been in his element and therefore he felt confident… out here in the mud… the two of them were equals in awkwardness.
“You are standing in a creek laughing. See?” Gabe says, mimicking exaggerated laughing by throwing his head back and slapping his knee. “Loosen up!”
Groaning, Cas wrings his hands and says mostly to himself but staring at the cameramen, “I’m trying. This is very different from dancing on stage.”
“It is sort of like dancing,” Dean replies, scratching his chin, “We have to choreograph the lip-sync together and make sure we don’t stomp all over each other’s feet when we fake laugh.”
Biting his lip, Cas turns all his focus on Dean. Being pulled into those blues eyes, knowing he is the focus of all Castiel’s attention is a powerful addictive thing. “Instruct me, please,” Cas asks, waving his hand towards Dean and Charlie.
Charlie, exuberant and a ball of energy herself, starts singing the song and strumming her ukulele. Dean joins in and Gabe, still on the bank, starts yodeling and inching his way to dip his toes into the creak. Charlie and Dean start laughing and pointing at Gabe, elbowing each other and smiling at his antics. They continue the song, the words rolling off Dean's lips easily. ‘Have you seen our friend Gabe swim in the ocean or lake, he needs the water nice and warm or his knees, they will shake…’ Cas hiding a smile behind his hand the entire time.
“Alright, alright, thank you, both. I think I got it,” Cas laughs at the three’s antics.
“We are here to get the job done but we can have fun,” Charlie chirps, her smile huge, “Get out of your head, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”
Shaking his arms and the rest of his jitters off, Dean slaps Cas' back and gives him the patented Winchester smile. “You ready man?”
With a perfunctory nod from Cas, Charlie motions to the film crew to start. They laugh and heckle Gabe, singing along and splashing water at each other. At one point, Cas throws an arm around Dean, making Dean shiver with pleasure that he’s quick to blame on the chilly water.
Dean tries his best to be a normal rational adult around Castiel. He really truly does, but sometimes his words get gummed up on the roof of his mouth and his feet don’t quite want to follow directions. Dean’s eyes once caught up in Cas’ gaze are ensnared. He causes more snafus in filming than any of the other members and by the third week of filming, he’s feeling quite embarrassed. All of his scenes with Cas end with Dean feeling slightly sweaty and feeling really, really foolish.
He’s hiding behind a car, sneaking a snack, when Charlie corners him with a concerned gaze. “Do you have a problem with Cas?” She asks, not beating around the bush.
Swallowing the candy bar practically whole, Dean chokes out a “No!” Feeling alarmed that he has been coming across that way. He doesn’t want Castiel to think he hates him. If anything, Dean has a bad case of self-deprecation going on.
“Well, you are giving off major vibes that you aren’t comfortable in your scenes with him,” Charlie states, folding her arms in front of her in a little huff, “You need to buck up Winchester and solve whatever is going on between the two of you. We are about to go on tour and this is a family, so you need to nut up and get in that Big Red Car.”
Properly chastised, Dean vows to himself that he won’t be a complete moron around Castiel anymore. He is debonair around women… but he becomes a mess around men that he finds attractive. It’s a systemic problem, especially since he’s deep into the closet with no intention of coming out any time soon. The majority of the time, he feels disingenuous to himself and it’s becoming a sore bruise in his chest that he occasionally pokes at.
Dean knows that he is living a lie by denying himself even the chance of being with a man. He knows that he could be missing out on finding the potential love of his life, but… after being burned so many times by previous relationships… Dean’s convinced it's better to play it safe and not date anyone long term for the time being. It’s been clearly established by his previous female partners that he is better off as the love-it and leave-it kind of guy.
Regardless of Dean’s self-imposed celibacy, Dean’s pretty sure that his Dad would have a stroke if he even hinted that he liked male company for more than football and beers. He’s positive his Mom would cry, sad that he wouldn’t be giving her any grand-babies. Both of Dean’s grandmas would probably join in with the tears and Grandpa Campbell would throw him out of the house. Grandpa Winchester is a wildcard. Dean’s only family ally would be Sammy, and he’d probably go out and buy the biggest bisexual flag he could find and stick it out in front of his own house to show support for Dean. Even with Sam’s support, he can’t risk losing his family… it’s literally all he has.
Feeling rather melancholy, Dean shoves his body into the backseat of the golf cart designed as the Big Red Car. Being pressed up against Cas, shoulder to knees, is a delicious sort of torture. The heat radiating from Cas' thick thigh burns into his making the situation even more intense. He can feel the sun blaring down on him on the quiet dirt road. Dean really hopes he’s not sweating too noticeably.
“Tight quarters, huh?” Dean jokes, trying to find a place for his arm. He fails and he jams his arms between his legs.
“I believe they didn’t account for two six-foot men when they designed this method of transportation,” Cas whispers, his eyes teasing. Dean wants to tell Castiel about his Baby, how there is definitely room for two six-foot men to spread out, but Charlie whistles to get their attention.
“Cas, you’re yellow, you drive,” Charlie calls out from where she’s standing with the cameramen, pointing out the yellow driver seat and then pulling on her own shirt to emphasize that Cas was in fact, wearing yellow.
“Fuck, sorry,” Cas whispers and clambers out of the car to get into the driver’s seat.
“Heard that!” Charlie taunts, skipping up to the car and settling next to him in the passenger seat. Dean laughs, and Castiel gives him a stern look. His eyes are too full of mirth to be really effective. Feeling like he’s finally on even footing with someone so… amazing … Dean finally relaxes. Castiel drives the Big Red Car, they sing about the red modified golf cart, Dean pretends to sleep, and he actually smiles for real for the camera.
After the long day of filming, they all head back to Charlie’s apartment to have a few beers and to watch mindless TV. It’s been Charlie’s way to connect as a group and to relax after being in front of the camera all day. Dean spreads his body out on the love seat, dozing on and off, listening to the others chat in the kitchen. The sun has always made him sleepy, ever since he was a child. As he dozes, he can hear the sweet sounds of laughter, teasing, and he even hears Gabe rummage around Charlie’s pantry complaining about her lack of sweets. Dean sinks further into the couch, feeling the ceiling fan breeze air on his overheated slightly pink skin. Lamenting at the fact he will have more freckles dotting his nose tomorrow.
“Can I sit here?” Calloused fingers brush across the top of Dean’s unsocked foot, jerking Dean awake.
“Huh, sure man,” Dean replies, sitting up a little straighter and letting out a sigh when Castiel hands him a new beer. Muttering thanks, he watches Castiel flip through the streaming service trying to find a movie for them all.
“You know Charlie is going to veto whatever you pick,” Dean teases, hugging a pillow to his chest with one arm. He tucks one of his jean-clad legs underneath the other and throws his arm along the back of the couch behind both him and Castiel.
“Well, that’s unfortunate. You have been friends with Gabe and Charlie for quite some time?” Castiel questions, tossing the remote to the other sofa with a dejected sigh.
“Yeah, we went to college together. I was a music education major and she was… computer science? Or arts? I don’t actually remember, it was a while ago,” Dean tries to puzzle out, his fingers scrubbing along the back of his neck. Castiel nods, he’s a few years younger than the rest of them, Dean knows from Charlie that he’s Gabriel’s cousin.
“Gabe told me that you were in the band, in the early days but that you had to step back? Did you become a teacher?”
Humming, Dean takes a sip of his beer, feeling a little vulnerable he answers Castiel’s questions, “Uh yeah, taught high school band and choir actually. For ten years if you can believe that. But yeah… my mom was sick and the band was taking off so Garth replaced me. Good guy, it feels odd replacing him now that he’s about to have twins.”
“Is your mother better?”
Clearing his throat, Dean nods, “She’s in remission. Still gets tested yearly, but we’re grateful that she’s doing well now. It was uh, it was touch and go there in the beginning. She had a good team of doctors.”
Castiel looks at him, eyes so big and fathomless. Calm ocean waters or a darkening clear sky. His voice deep, and barely audible, “And a good son for staying and taking care of her.”
“What are you dweebs talking about?” Gabe chirps, throwing himself down on the opposite couch and snatching up the remote, a big bowl of popcorn balanced in his lap.
“Dean’s teaching,” Castiel readily supplies, grabbing a handful of Gabe’s popcorn. Gabe snarks a quick, “Get your own, Cassie.”
“Oh gosh, the hot Mr. Winchester. Making all the girls and boys wanna play the oboe,” Charlie teases and wrestles the remote out of Gabe’s hands. They laugh and swipe at each other.
“Gross, Charles. They were kids,” Dean retorts, throwing a pillow at her once she succeeds in her fight for the remote. The pillow smacks her face and falls to the floor, with all her might she throws it back to him. It hits him in the chest and he snugs it back against his chest and returns his arm to the back of the couch.
Charlie rolls her eyes, clearly picking up mannerisms from Gabe, “I visited the school once, those teenagers were all about you. Walking around with hearts in their eyes. Now they are all young suburban Moms and Dads, lusting after the newest Wiggle. Singing along about waking you up.”
“Again, gross Charlie,” Dean laughs and takes a swig of his beer, feeling a blush rise to his face.
“So modest, Deano. Hope you know your life is dramatically going to change now? You are going to be a sex-object to desperate housewives. Becky is even working on a new TV deal for us. Every single move you make is going to be scrutinized and all of your past transgressions are going to be aired,” Gabe chirps with a devilish look in his eyes.
“You’re one to talk!” Dean barks, a laugh punching out of his chest, “You’ve never been a choir boy.”
“They expect me to be a little naughty,” Gabriel replies flippantly, “Makes for good news.”
“They do not! You big fat liar, Kali has got you completely tamed since you guys married,” Charlie laughs and throws a few peanut M&M’s at Gabe, who tries to catch them with his mouth.
“’Tis true, she is my goddess and I worship at her altar,” Gabe sighs dreamily. He turns to Castiel, mirth and mischief in his eyes, “Now Cassie here… he’s real good at pretending to be a real choir boy and getting away with it! God, our mothers… ‘Gabe, why can’t you be more like Castiel? He’s younger than you and better behaved! He doesn’t cause his mother any grief. He behaves at school, why can’t you get better grades?’ Little did they know that Cassie here was sneaking out of the house and breaking all sorts of rules when we were growing up.”
“You were always getting caught,” Castiel taunts, but he turns to Dean and adds so only he can hear him, “All I wanted was a little freedom from my mother.”
“You threw me under the bus!” Gabriel cries, undeterred by the whispers exchanged between Cas and Dean.
“Only that one time! You were trying to sneak back into Aunt Amara’s house and fell out the window. What was I supposed to say?”
“Solidarity, cuz! Solidarity.”
“There was no solidarity! You even said every man for themselves when we snuck out. And you were five years older than me!” Castiel laughs, “Who takes a 13-year-old to a party anyways?”
“Hey! The way I recalled it, you wanted to go! ‘Don’t leave me, Gabe. Auntie ‘Mara is scary!’”
“She is scary!” Castiel replies, smiling so wide that Dean can see the crinkles around his eyes.
Gabe scoffs, rolling his eyes and throwing popcorn at Castiel, “Regardless, you’ve always been mischievous. You’ve just always gotten away with it, still do! You big slut.”
“No slut-shaming in my house, Gabriel Milton!” Charlie declares as soon as the word “slut” passes Gabriel’s lips. No one likes the word slut, especially Charlie.
“I’m not shaming him! I was a big ol’ slut too before Kali,” Gabriel protests, “Cassie’s sexual promiscuity aside…aren’t you supposed to be picking a movie, Charlie?”
“You two are entertaining enough,” Dean comments, a smile tinging his lips. He takes a long pull of his beer, drains it, and sets it on the side table next to him. Licking his lips, he glances over at Castiel who meets his eyes. Steady, calm, blue eyes flit over his face and rest at Dean’s hands, making Dean sink into the gaze. He can feel the tension between them, rising and heady, clearing his throat Dean quickly glances away.
“Glad you think so, Deano. What about you? You were a ladies’ man in college. That changed?” Gabriel asks, face lit up with unholy mischief.
“Uh, no,” scoffs Dean, “Been too busy. Too old to keep that crap up.”
“Nobody? Since Carmen?” Charlie asks, clearly surprised. Carmen was his girlfriend senior year of college. They had dated a long time after school, even lived with each other, but she had cheated on Dean towards the end of their relationship when he started picking up gigs in the band’s American tours.
Dean hasn’t had the best track record with women. It all started in high school, Amanda Heckerling broke up with him in front of the entire school. Cassie, after he proclaimed that he loved her said that she was sorry, but she didn’t feel the same. In college, Lisa cheated on him after a steamy tumultuous relationship. He “dated” a few girls between Lisa and Tessa, but Tessa had laughed when he said he wanted more than a hookup. And Carmen… he thought Carmen was going to be the one he married, but she walked away. Had told him that they wanted different things in life after he brought up the conversation of children, then told him that she was seeing someone else and that he had to move out. So, Dean doesn’t date because he really does not want to risk his heart being trampled on again.
“Yeah, it’s been a while.”
“Carmen was what? Three years ago? Are you a monk?” Gabe asks.
“No, I just… I just haven’t met anybody,” Dean retorts fiercely. Not to mention that he feels like there is something inherently wrong with him for all these women to just decide to not love him. He thinks he’s a pretty good guy. A family man, loyal to his brother, and if someone would give him a chance he could be a good provider. So, Dean doesn’t like a lot of flashy things, he likes to think he’s a simple man. He has a few needs; a good mattress, great water pressure, big TV, and food in his belly. Sure, he’s got some bad habits. He’s a messy eater, he likes the same rock cassettes and nothing else, and outside of work he has a limited wardrobe he’s had since college and he doesn’t want to change.
“Oh ho ho ho. Methinks the lady doth protests too much,” Gabriel crows.
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Castiel corrects while Charlie tells Gabe to leave Dean alone. Gabe and Charlie bicker some more, over the innate misogyny of how people view healthy sexual appetites.
Very quietly as to not interrupt the others, Castiel leans closer to Dean, his voice low and rumbly, “Don’t let Gabe get under your skin, I haven’t been dating either.”
Dean grunts, not believing Castiel for a minute. The man looks affronted and sits back, mouth open in shock. “I haven’t!” Castiel protests, “He likes to call me out because he’s just jealous I was part of a poly relationship for a brief time in college.”
“Poly?”
“More than one person,” Castiel sighs and explains, “It didn’t last.”
Feeling even more out of his league, Dean just nods sagely. He can’t add anything to this conversation. Dean’s just a simple guy from Kansas.
The music is loud in the gym, it almost feels like the bass is making his heart thud against his rib cage. There are people milling about but from the corner of his eye, he sees Castiel running on the treadmill at what Dean would consider a bruising speed. He’s drenched in sweat, shirt sticking to him, and his curling hair is being held back in a baseball cap. Tiny tight shorts exposing thick tanned thighs make Dean quickly walk to the other side of the gym. He’ll start with legs on the press.
Dean loses himself in the repetitions. The music becomes white noise in the background while he enjoys the burn of his muscles. His body shaking with effort is distracting, it kills the temptation to hop on a treadmill next to Castiel just to watch him run. The son of a bitch is even majestic when sweating buckets.
He moves on to the bench press, settling the weights onto the bar when he senses a body behind him.
“Need a spotter?” Castiel asks, wiping his face and neck with a towel.
“Sure, man. Appreciate it,” answers Dean, settling on the bench, “Didn’t know this was your gym too. You live close to here?”
“I do, well, my cousin has a house, and I abuse her hospitality,” Castiel explains while Dean’s hands flex around the bar. Castiel stands close, but not in the way and out of Dean’s field of vision. Dean doesn’t technically need a spotter for this, his aim is repetition and he’s doing weights lighter than what he’d normally do. He can still feel Castiel’s presence. Can still smell the earthy scent of his cologne mixing with the clean sweat of his skin.
“No roots?” Dean grunts, the count in his head displaced for a second but he starts up again.
Castiel hums, “No, Anna lives here and she’s the closest thing I have to roots recently. I was in New York for a while after school. Then I was in Mumbai dancing, that’s when Gabe asked me to come home.”
“Mumbai?”
“Bollywood.”
Dean lets out a noise of surprise, his hands faltering and Castiel’s hands are like lightning grasping the bar from Dean’s hands. Arms flexing, Castiel stabilizes the bar while Dean adjusts his hands.
“Bollywood, huh?”
“Back up dancer,” Castiel explains, his hand leaving the bar hesitantly.
“I’m gonna have to see this, my sister-in-law loves Bollywood movies,” Dean chuckles, finishing his rep and hanging up the bar. He hops up on the bench, looking up at Castiel. Baseball cap backwards, shirt still clinging to him. Dean meets Castiel’s eyes, steady and so fuckin’ blue. Fuck him.
“I enjoyed my time there,” Castiel says, leaning against the bar relaxed as ever, “But I’m glad to be home and doing this with you all. Ready to start the newest chapter of life, it’ll certainly be different touring… becoming a sort of celebrity. Interviews start soon, that’ll be an interesting experience.”
Dean nods in agreement, wiping his hands on his gym shorts, “Yeah, it’ll be weird being known, but I’m hoping that they won’t become too intrusive. I just enjoy music, I like hanging out with Charlie and Gabe again. It seemed like a good move to me.”
Castiel smiles, “Finished?”
“Uh yeah, going to hit the showers and then home. Tomorrow is choreography? Know anything about that?”
“I do, 'Rock-a-bye Your Bear' tomorrow. Gabe wanted me to come up with the hand movements and the dance we could all do,” he says and leads the way to the gym locker room, pulling out his bag from the locker. He starts stripping in front of Dean, peeling his sweat-drenched shirt slowly off his body.
Standing only in the tiniest shorts and sneakers, Dean’s tongue feels like it's going to flop out of his mouth like a lovesick cartoon. Spotting a breathtaking tattoo, its black lines and with show-stopping watercolors curling around the top of Castiel’s shoulders and down the slopes of his back. It’s gorgeous, light and dark mixed together in a vibrant dance of color that makes him want to trace it with his fingers and follow with his tongue. In his imagination, he can almost feel the skin beneath his lips, the strength of the muscle between his teeth, and taste the salt of Cas’ skin on his tongue.
“I can’t sleep through this one?” Dean grunts, grabbing his own bag to distract him from the dark Adonis and his wings in front of him. He wills his body to cool down and not to stare too much at the beauty in front of him.
Amusement shining in his face, Castiel clasps a hand on his shoulder and shakes him slightly, “You’ll be fine, Dean. I promise I didn’t make it too difficult.”
With that, Castiel leaves him to take his shower, all sinew and grace. Dean watches the muscles in his back flex as he walks away, thinking that Castiel Novak is so graceful with his vibrant wings that he might as well be flying.
