gonna do my very best (and it ain't no lie)
G, 2.6k
it's only two or so months late but i finally finished the ficlet for @emeraldcas's last follower celebration. dean and cas go on a first date and things don't turn out quite as well as dean planned. hope you like it, mel!
read under the cut or on ao3
“Okay,” Dean says, patting his pockets down for the third time in as many minutes. “I think we’re good to go. Right?” Castiel nods. “Right.”
Dean pats his pockets a fourth time. He takes a deep breath before holding out his elbow to Castiel. He isn’t entirely sure why Dean’s doing it. It’s not like he needs help finding the way to the Bunker’s garage. He doesn’t need to be escorted either. Castiel raises an eyebrow and Dean flinches, just a little.
“What?” he says, his tone somewhat tightly-strung. “I saw it in a ton of movies. Just tryin’ to be a gentleman.”
This isn’t starting off well.
Castiel gets why Dean is nervous – he really does; after all, he can feel some excitement bubbling underneath his own skin – but to his mind, there’s no reason to be worried. Even with all the mistakes Dean’s made in the past, whatever he has planned for tonight can’t be one. There’s nothing that could deter Castiel, not anymore. There’s no Chuck, no Amara, no other forces of destiny that could mess with them. Jack has restored Heaven enough to fix its most severe problems before he gave up his powers and returned to them, so Castiel has no life-changing obligations there. They’ve even started thinking about retirement – semi-retirement, that is, because Dean still can’t bring himself to see value in his life without hunting. It’s just them, their little family: Sam, Eileen, Jack, Dean, and Castiel.
When Castiel got back from the Empty this time around, there’d been a lot of tearful reunions and then – silence. The first few days, Dean said nothing to him, except that he should take some time to recover. After that, it was mutual walking on eggshells. Neither of them could ignore the circumstances of Castiel’s latest demise, but it took over a month until they finally addressed it. That was a week ago now, and ever since, Dean has been pulling all the strings to make something big happen. Yesterday, he finally put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder after getting up to do the dishes and asked him out on date night.
In the here and now, though, it seems to give Dean a lot of trouble.
After a moment’s hesitation, Castiel tentatively reaches for Dean’s arm. It’s strange, to hold onto him like that just because it’s supposed to be romantic, but the touch makes Dean smile and lets a bit of tension seep out of his body, so Castiel thinks to himself that maybe, it’s better if he just plays along.
“Let’s go,” Castiel says, trying for an encouraging smile, and Dean leads him to the car.
The waitress at the Italian restaurant has a reservation for them under Campbell. She also apparently has a backstory with Sam and Dean, and something about the Impala, and once she’s led them to their table (small, two chairs, at the very back with a candle on top) she spends the better part of five minutes catching up with Dean. Castiel notices that Dean’s getting more and more annoyed, so he reaches out across the table and puts his hand on top of Dean’s. He doesn’t miss Dean’s heart skipping a beat, nor the way he fumbles for words for a moment. Castiel can’t deny that he’s feeling butterflies too when Dean carefully links their fingers together.
“Oh,” says the waitress, when she sees their intertwined hands. “I’ll just get you the menu.”
Ten minutes later, they’ve ordered their drinks and Dean is poring studiously over the menu. There’s a light crease between his brows, and Castiel thinks he looks pretty cute, except for the worry that’s still set in his shoulders.
“What are you thinking about, Dean?” Castiel asks eventually, when Dean lets out a sigh.
“Nothing. Just–” He drops the menu and runs a hand over his face. “Usually, I get the garlic bread for starters. I don’t know what else to order.”
Castiel inclines his head questioningly, and Dean looks at him like he’s worried about having done something wrong, which he hasn’t. Castiel isn’t sure if he even could do something wrong at this point.
“Then order the garlic bread. I don’t see the problem?”
“C’mon Cas, you can’t order garlic on a first date. That’s like, Dating 101.”
Castiel furrows his brows. It’s sweet that Dean is worrying about things like that, but he should know by now that it doesn’t matter to Castiel. He doesn’t need a perfect first date. He’s known Dean for twelve years. He’s loved him drenched in blood and ghoul guts. He’s loved him with bones freshly broken and battered skin. He’s loved him as a demon, loved him in sickness and possession, and now, hopefully, in health.
“Dean,” he says softly, squeezing Dean’s hand a little bit, and watches Dean jolt upright in his chair. “I’ve smelt much worse things on you than garlic. If you want it, get it.”
Dean smiles weakly. “Okay, yeah. I was thinking we could share a pizza after, they’ve got huge ones here, and I mean huge.”
“There’s no need to share any, Dean,” Castiel says, and Dean looks like a deer in headlights.
“Shit,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “How did I forget that you don’t eat?”
When Dean’s face doesn’t resurface, Castiel feels a bit thrown off track. He’s messed it up, without any intention of making Dean feel rejected. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate Dean going all out, but there’s no need to impress him by playing all the traditional first date cards. It’s nice, that Dean’s taking him out, but it’s not at all necessary, and Castiel wishes he could let Dean know without inadvertently hurting him or his pride.
Castiel sighs. It’s not easy, dating Dean Winchester, apocalypses or not.
“The waitress is coming to get our orders,” he says, trying to inconspicuously wave her over.
Judging by the skeptical expression on Dean’s face, the try for subtlety didn’t quite work. Nevertheless, he picks up the menu again and points out the dishes he wants to order to the waitress. Castiel takes pity on him and orders some bruschetta for himself. It’s small and probably doesn’t give him too many terrible molecules to chew through. Usually, he only makes a rare exception for Dean’s home-cooked favorites or Jack’s midnight snacking sessions, but he supposes today is enough of a special occasion.
By the time the starters arrive, Dean’s collected himself and is back to smiling slightly to himself. He’s tearing off small pieces of garlic bread, popping them into his mouth one by one, and Castiel can feel the happiness radiating off him. Castiel loves him very much, he really does, silly faults and all. He’s not about to say it and make things awkward, though.
“Candlelight dinner’s supposed to be the most romantic, y’know,” Dean says suddenly, taking a swig of his wine, a fancy choice that Castiel has chosen not to comment on. “Looked it up and everything.”
Castiel gently smiles at him. “I appreciate your effort. It’s very sweet.”
Dean huffs and looks away, tearing the last of his bread apart, and then the waitress comes back with the pizza Dean ordered and saves them from their awkwardness.
They’ve moved on to the cinema by now. Ads are still playing and Castiel is losing a bit of his patience. He could count the times he’s seen a movie outside of movie nights with Sam and Dean on one hand. He’s definitely not used to sitting through 15 minutes of advertisements, which makes him wonder how exactly this is supposed to be romantic.
The lights start to dim and a very annoyed-sounding teenage voice lets them know to turn off their phones. Dean slips his out of his pocket and checks the screen before putting it on silent. He smiles to himself before tucking it away and reaching for the popcorn.
“What is it?” Castiel asks, picking a handful of popcorn out of the bucket. “You seem happy.”
“Oh, Sam wishes me luck,” Dean says, and it shows in his smile that Sam’s well-wishes must’ve been genuine. A rare sight between the two brothers, at least in Castiel’s experience.
“Do you need any luck?” Castiel asks now, and he’s not even trying to keep his amusement out of his voice.
Dean smirks. “Dunno. Depends on you.”
The room is fully dark by now, and Castiel thinks that Dean must feel more comfortable in the atmosphere consisting mostly of half-visible outlines, since the next thing he says has something of an embarrassed confession to it.
“I asked Sam for a bit of help planning this. Him and Eileen, they’ve got their Wednesday date nights, so he’s gotta know the works, right?”
Castiel doesn’t say anything for a bit while the opening credits roll. When the movie starts in earnest, he thinks of the many times they’ve sat next to each other in the Dean Cave, how often he’s wanted to settle in with Dean and hold his hand or rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. He’s still not sure that he can do it now, not with how slow they’re taking things. Almost glacial, really.
Admittedly, though, Castiel has most of his knowledge on dating from books and movies, and none of them seems to give any advice on how to turn a twelve-year friendship full of yearning and longing into a steadfast romantic relationship.
Maybe taking it light is the right way, even if the tension from before is still lingering in Dean’s shoulders.
“What does Sam have to say on hand-holding on the first date? Is that allowed?”
Dean only chuckles in response. He shifts the popcorn bucket to his right and puts his left on the armrest between them, palm up and open. Castiel only feels a moment’s hesitation before reaching out and slotting their fingers together. Dean’s hand is warm against his and only the tiniest bit sweaty. It’s nice. Really nice – almost worth waiting twelve years for.
(They really could’ve done this sooner, though. Preferably without all the dying and resurrections in between.)
“Who cares what Sam says,” Dean mumbles as he keeps staring ahead at the screen. “’s nice.”
Castiel isn’t sure if Dean is aware that he can see the blush dusting his cheeks even in the dark. He runs his thumb soothingly over the back of Dean’s hand, smiling softly to himself, and for a moment, he feels the irrational urge to hide his chin against his chest and curl up around the feeling blossoming gently in his chest, holding it tight and safe.
Dean glances at him from the corner of his eye.
“Oh, shut up,” he says, turning crimson all over again.
And even though Castiel doesn’t say anything for the rest of the movie, he keeps smiling, because Dean is holding his hand, and partway through the final showdown, he rests his head against Castiel’s shoulder.
Castiel watches as Dean nervously downs his Pepsi in the parking lot. Now that they’re out of the shielding darkness of the cinema, his nerves seem to get the better of him. Castiel feels a little guilty, letting himself be distracted by the way Dean’s chewing on his straw.
Guilt quickly turns into amusement as he watches Dean’s fingers drum against the steering wheel despite his carefully neutral expression. He let Castiel choose the music even though he’s riding shotgun, so he must be really set on making the perfect date happen. Castiel knows him, though, and he knows that Dean isn’t actually bothered by his choice – otherwise, his ABBA tape wouldn’t have ended up in the car in the first place.
“You had a good time, right?” Dean asks, halfway to the Bunker, as Take A Chance on Me keeps playing in the background. “I mean, you liked the movie?”
Castiel decides to be honest. “It was alright.” Dean’s face falls, and his shoulders tense, so Castiel hurries to say, “I had a very good time, though.”
Dean glances at him for a moment, and the hopeful little smile curling around the corners of his mouth sparks a new wave of affection within Castiel’s heart.
“You know,” he says. “I read that the movie shouldn’t be too good on the first date anyway. More time to, uh, lovingly gaze at each other.”
So Castiel decides to deliver. He doesn’t take his eyes off Dean for the rest of the drive.
Once they’ve made it back to the garage and it’s silent in the car, Dean chuckles, rubbing his sweaty palms against his thighs.
“I guess that’s the end. I looked it up, you know, how normal people end their dates, but none of the advice online gives you anything for when you’re already living together.”
It hits Castiel, all of a sudden, just how much effort Dean has really invested into putting this date together. He’s done everything he can to make it seem like they’re two regular people going out, at the very beginning of a relationship instead of, somehow, walking into deeper waters twelve years in.
“Oh, Dean,” Castiel says. And Dean tenses for a moment, so Castiel reaches out and takes his hand. He still can’t believe he’s allowed to do so. “You didn’t have to do all this. It was nice, and I know you tried, but you really didn’t have to.”
“I just wanted to… I don’t know. Give you something special.”
“I know, and I appreciate that but –” Castiel wraps his other hand around Dean’s, too. “Dean. I love you either way.”
Dean looks at him now and some of his confidence must suddenly return, because the corner of his mouth lifts in a smile, and there’s something cocky about it.
“You really do, don’t you?” He tugs on Castiel’s hand and Castiel comes closer, willingly. “So, what do you think about ending this date?”
Castiel almost feels giddy when he finally gets to deliver a line he’s been turning over in his thoughts for the past hour. “I think, traditionally, you end it with a kiss when the date goes well.”
Dean smiles back at him and raises his palm to Castiel’s cheek. Castiel’s heart beats a mile a minute, completely disregarding that he’s an angel and shouldn’t feel this kind of exhilaration. Then Dean pulls him just a little closer, bridging the gap between their lips for a short but gentle kiss, and it’s nice, really – God knows Castiel has been waiting years and years for this – but it’s not entirely what Castiel was hoping for. He wants more, wants to wrap Dean up in his arms and never let him go, or at least not until he’s left his mark on every inch of Dean’s skin.
When they part, Dean is biting his lip, which Castiel takes as a good sign.
“You know that I’ll be perfectly happy to go by your pace,” Castiel says, low and intimate, and he watches as a smile spreads across Dean’s face, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to skipping ahead and furiously making out on the couch already.”
At that, Dean laughs whole-heartedly. He pulls Castiel in for another quick peck to his lips and Castiel is alight with joy. This is more like them, or at least he hopes so. He wants their future to consist of Dean laughing and evenings spent between their couch and their kitchen and their car. And yet, it still warms his entire being to know that Dean wanted to make this perfect, to give something to Castiel that is so fundamentally human and sweet.
“Okay,” Dean says, “let’s grab a better movie from my room and then we’re giving date night another try.”
When they make it to Dean’s room, and Castiel sees the stack of print outs, post-its and flyers tacked to Dean’s pinboard under a large sticky note that reads Date Night Ideas, Castiel is on him within a minute, kissing him fiercely. One of the notes simply reads kiss Cas (duh), and so they do, they do and they do.
115 notes
·
View notes