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zacharyleigh316 · 7 months

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A Friend to Bee

Suptober Prompt: Day 7 - Black Cat | A Friend to Bee | 2.8K | Teen and Up | Read on Ao3 (or below cut)

Dean befriends a neighborhood cat, and, against all odds, it might just bring luck his way...

“Achoo!”

As if on cue, the second Dean stepped over the threshold to his home, he sneezed, groaning at the way his eyes watered as a result. He quickly hung up his coat on the rack, and tossed his keys in the dish on the stand by the door, before fleeing into the kitchen, only to sneeze again. It was only a matter of time, Dean surmised, before his eyes burned, and he’d need to stubbornly fight the urge to rub them, as was his daily routine as of late—that, and popping allergy pills like candy. Pills of which he was currently out of, and thus doomed to suffer, slowly succumbing to his allergies.

Dean took his phone out and shot his brother a text, before setting out to put some leftover chicken and rice in a bowl. And, summoned by the prospect of food, the source of all of Dean’s current health problems—and well-being—jumped up onto the counter, signaled by another sneeze.

“You’re lucky you’re so friggin cute.” He muttered, putting the bowl down in front of the fur ball that could, quite possibly, be the death of him—if he couldn’t somehow find a way to manage his cat allergy.

It hadn’t been that long since they first encountered each other, Dean and his hairy, four-legged visitor—be it a miraculous act of fate or what have you—but it sure felt like forever, seeing as Dean hadn’t had a moment’s peace since.

Two weeks ago, on Dean’s way back home, he encountered the most unusual pair of blue eyes, that, upon further inspection, belonged to an even more unusually mannered black cat, perched perfectly poised atop the front steps to his home. He recalled how the eyes seemed to glow then, a trick of the lights Dean’s sure, but they drew him in nevertheless. Since then the cat has, beyond any feasible reason Dean could see, stuck around. Enough so that yes, he’s even begun to feed and water the damn thing—despite said allergy.

The little rascal didn’t seem too pressed to leave any time soon, and you could say that he even, perhaps, got used to having it around—not that he’d tell anyone that. He wasn’t sure who exactly owned his new friend, just that it had to be someone in the neighborhood, but sincerely hoped they wouldn’t mind how often he spoiled the guy’s pet.

Dean’s phone buzzed from where he left it on the countertop, and pulled himself from his reverie, reading the reply from his brother.

<< hey sammy, were you able to pick me up some more of those allergy meds?

>> Yeah, they should be in the bathroom.

And then, a few seconds later, came another.

>> You know, you never told me why you needed them?

<< nunya

>> What?

<< sorry, let me rephrase that

<< nunya business

<< Wow, really mature Dean. I didn’t have to get them for you, but it sounded urgent, so I did.

<< The least you could do is tell me why. Or even how you ran out of the other bottle so quickly.

Dean sighed and looked over to the cat, who was now pinning him with its starling azure gaze, apparently finding him more interesting than finishing off the bowl of food.

“I dunno, what do you think? Should I tell Sam?” He asked, not really understanding why he thought the cat would answer, but directing the question toward it anyway.

Predictably, it just sat there and blinked at him.

Dean sighed again, deciding to just bite the bullet and tell his brother.

<< I maybe sorta got a cat?

>> You WHAT?!

>> Dean, you’re allergic to cats

<< uh yeah, Sammy, that’s why I needed the allergy meds duh

Dean let out a groan and pressed his forehead to the cool countertop, as his phone began to ring, Sam’s caller ID posted across the screen. He let it ring a few times before picking up.

“Heya brother-o-mine, shouldn’t you be working?”

“I’m on lunch break right now actually, Dean,” Sam whispered harshly into the receiver, straight to business as always, “what’s this about you getting a cat?”

“Well, it’s not technically mine. It just showed up one day, and won’t leave.”

“And you didn’t think to call authorities?”

“Authorities?” Dean snorted. “What am I going to do, Sam, get it arrested?”

Dean could hear the eye roll through the phone. “I mean animal control, Dean. Or maybe even a vet?”

“Course I thought about doing that…”

“You can’t just steal a cat, it could belong to somebody. It could have a microchip or something. Maybe its owner is looking for it.” Sam sighed, and now it was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Dude, I’m not stupid, okay? ‘Sides, I didn’t steal it. It just showed up, and never left. I mean, the little guy comes and goes, but it always comes back and ends up staying for a few hours, before disappearing again.” He shrugged, despite his brother being unable to see it.

As if knowing it was being talked about, it padded over to Dean, and head butted the palm of his hand. Dean smiled, and ran his hand down the creature’s back, before letting out another sneeze.

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, sounds like a real healthy arrangement you’ve got there, Dean. Why do you even let it inside?”

“That’s the strange thing, Sammy. I didn’t. It showed up on my doorstep, but I just let it be, and went inside. Don’t ask me how, but the damn thing is smart or something, and lets itself in. And out.”

“Uh-huh…” Sam trailed off, sounding skeptical.

Dean wouldn’t believe it either if he hadn’t witnessed it time and time again.

“I’m serious. I know it sounds crazy, but the cat is a friggin weirdo. I’ve tried to keep it out, but it always finds a way. Hence why now I just…let it do its thing.”

“Okay, well, even if what you’re saying is true, Dean, this isn’t sustainable. You need to find its owner, and tell them about their cat.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Now I’m serious, Dean. You can’t just keep going through allergy meds just because the cat likes to loiter.”

“Sure thing, whatever you say, mom. Don’t get your panties all in a twist, Samantha. I’ll take care of it.”

“I mean it, Dean.”

“And I promise, I’ll take care of it. Now get back to work, slacker. Don’t spend all of your lunch break talking to your big brother.”

“Alright. Talk to you later. Love you, jerk.”

“You too. Love you, bitch.”

They hung up, and Dean put his phone back down onto the counter, turning his attention back toward the adorable, furry interloper, who was still staring unblinkingly at him.

“That was my baby brother, Sammy. He’s this big shot lawyer, and, don’t tell him this, but I’m a pretty proud big brother.”

The cat meowed and tilted its head to the side, earning an amused chuckle from Dean.

“Can’t have his head grow bigger than it already is, y’know? Don’t know what’s in the water these days, but the kid’s huge, and I mean humongous.” He joked, shaking his head fondly.

“Anyway, Sam’s right. Not that I don’t enjoy the company, but you should probably get back to your owner, yeah? Got one of those, don’t you?”

Again the cat meowed, but Dean was, unfortunately, sorely lacking in the knowledge department for ‘how to translate cat language’. He watched as it went back to finish the food he’d set out, and chuckled, albeit a bit bitterly.

“Yeah, I’d be bored of me too.”

Letting the cat go about its business Dean pulled away from the kitchen island and sauntered into the bathroom. He figured that, in the meantime—or at least until he located the cat’s owner—it’d be wise to take some meds while it was here. Dean was rather fond of breathing, thank you very much. And the, however temporary, relief of itchiness was an additional perk.

It was some time later that afternoon, Dean sat on the couch with the fur ball curled in his lap, when his phone buzzed with a text message. He leaned over to put his half finished beer down on the coffee table, and exchanged it for the phone, reading the text from Sam.

>> Have you tried following the cat when it leaves? Maybe you can do that.

Dean hummed thoughtfully, and looked down at the cat. He hadn’t tried that, no, but it wasn’t a bad idea actually. He’d have to try that next, though, if anybody in the neighborhood caught him following some dude’s cat to said dude’s house, he didn’t want to know what they would think of him. He’d rather sooner admit to being an avid fan of chick flicks than deal with the repercussions of being labeled a friggin creepy weirdo.

“What do you say to me taking you home this time?” He asked, raising a brow at the little shit still snoozing in his lap, who had the audacity to peel open one of its eyes, before opening the other and leveling Dean with a look that was oddly reminiscent of one of Sam’s bitch faces.

Dean opened his mouth, a smart ass remark on the tip of his tongue, when the cat leaped off his lap and quietly padded over to the door, in lieu of responding, or well, as it’s response since it was an animal, and it couldn’t actually talk back—unless you counted the, albeit perfectly timed, meows it gave Dean sometimes.

With a groan, as his thirty-something almost forty-something body protested, he hefted himself off the couch and, against his better judgment, he followed the damn thing out his front door.

Thankfully his four legged guide was waiting for him, and even stopped every so often on the way to wherever the fuck, looking back to check if Dean was still behind, following. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, and that it was actually working. It certainly didn’t ease his anxiety, especially since he was completely in the dark as to where he was even being lead—to his death maybe—but of all panned out, maybe he’d bake his brother a pie or some shit. He’d see how he felt about it later.

Though Dean didn’t have to wait long to find out what his imminent death looked like, because after a ten minute or so walk down the street, the cat made its way up some steps to a rather unassuming house, much like his own—and everyone else’s in the neighborhood. This one was painted a pretty blue, nothing like the eyes of his new friend, but a softer, grayer shade.

On the door, as Dean approached, hung a gorgeous, decorative autumn wreath, with the words “Blessed Bee”—no that was not a typo, and to which Dean assumed was a pun referring to the little plastic bees dispersed within. Though, with an additional quick, cursory glance towards the house, the owner’s aesthetic was growing increasingly apparent, if not for the garden beds of flowers attached to each window sill, and the immaculately groomed bushes (hah) lining the front.

Even the grass was a lively color, a rich, vibrant green, and neatly trimmed to boot. Dean couldn’t help the whispered, “Damn,” that slipped out in awe. This guy had some serious gardening chops, that Dean couldn’t help but be a little envious of. The only plant he could remember growing was a little succulent he nicked from the local supermarket for him and Sam when they were little, and he couldn’t tell you what became of it.

The cat meowed, once again with the intention of pulling Dean from his reverie, and he, with a final resolve, reached up and knocked on the door. Though, nothing could have ever prepared him for what happened next.

The front door swung open, revealing possibly the hottest guy Dean has ever seen, looking all soft and—albeit artfully—rumpled, in a sweater and jeans, and holy fuck this dude’s eyes. If he thought the cat’s eye were an unusual shade of blue, they were nothing compared to this man’s, and if Dean didn’t say anything and just stood there frozen, gaping like a fish, being spotted and labeled as a creepy weirdo were the least of his worries.

“Uh…” he said, rather intelligently.

The man didn’t seem to mind, however, and just smiled, reaching down to pick up his cat, who was winding between his legs.

“You must be Bee’s new friend.”

Dean blinked, taking a moment to realize that, son of a bitch, the hot dude just spoke to him, and then another to realize that that is what he sounded like. Deep and gravelly, and god friggin’ dammit Dean was fucked. Truly and utterly fucked.

“Um…what?”

Wow, nice going Dean, he mentally scolded himself.

As far as first impressions went, this was probably as worst as it could get. He’d spoken a total of three words to this strange (sexy) man, and they only seemed to feed the narrative of what a fool he was. He could flirt with women with the ease of driving his baby, no problem. But put a pretty guy, let alone a pretty guy with gorgeous blue eyes, in front of him and he was rendered speechless, dumber than a sack of potatoes, and probably as useful as one too. He was not good at this.

The man chuckled, and gestured to the cat in his arms, before giving who Dean knew now as Bee chin scritches.

“My cat. She’s been telling me all about you.”

“Oh, uh, all good things I hope?”

The man smiled again, and Dean felt his knees grow weak, like they could buckle at any moment, and he’d just melt into a puddle on this guy’s front steps.

“Hm, yes, I must thank you for taking good care of her. She likes it there very much.”

“Haha well, I’m glad? But, uh, about that…” Dean swallowed against the lump in his throat, and reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“I’m actually allergic to cats.”

“Oh.”

Dean inwardly cursed as the man frowned, and furrowed his brows in concern. He looked down at Bee then, and gave her a disapproving stare.

“You didn’t tell me that.” He shook his head, and put her down, ushering her into the house. “Go on, shoo. We’ll discuss this later.”

They both watched her disappear around the corner, before the man turned back to Dean, now looking apologetic.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you were allergic. Had I known, I wouldn’t have encouraged Bee to visit so often.”

“Don’t worry about it man, I just, uh, thought you should know, I guess? But really, ‘s’no big deal. I actually enjoyed the company.”

The guy smiled softly, and hummed. “That’s good then. I’m glad. She enjoyed the company too.”

“I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Castiel.”

Dean nodded, feeling his cheeks heat the longer they stood there, just staring at one other. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and cursed himself again for his eternal awkwardness.

“R-right, well…” he trailed off, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

“Maybe next time you could come over too? If you, um, if you want. Bee knows where it is.”

Castiel beamed, and damn, if that wasn’t easily on Dean’s ever increasing list of favorite things about him.

“I’d like that very much, Dean.”

“Yeah? Awesome.” Dean grinned back, and then even wider when Castiel ducked his head bashfully.

Dean liked him so much already, it was wild. Even more wild that a black cat was beginning to be the luckiest thing that ever happened to him.

“See ya later, Cas?”

“Yes. And I’ll try to whip up something to help those allergies, if you’d like?”

“I have no idea what that means, but sure why not?” He shrugged with an easy smile, and started to back away, his eyes never leaving Cas’.

“Don’t worry, it’s not of import.” Cas dismissed with a wave of his hand.

“Until we meet again, Dean.”

“Bye Cas.”

They waved their goodbyes, and Dean finally turned around to make his way back, but only after he may—or may not—have stumbled, earning another, rather amused, chuckle from Cas from behind him.

Dean laughed awkwardly, brushing off his totally-not-a-stumble, you know, as a man does, and raised his hand in one more final parting gesture, before hurrying off back home to bake that pie.

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