Chapter Text
Dean let out a sigh as he plopped into a booth near the window. He tossed the crumpled newspaper onto the table as the waitress approached.
“Well hey there, sugar,” She beamed down at Dean, “what can I get for you?”
Her good mood was infectious despite his frustration. Dean couldn’t help but smile back at her, “Bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a coke please.”
“Be back in a jiff!” Dean stole a glance at her ass as she walked away. When she disappeared in the kitchen he sighed again and turned back to the newspaper. He slid his pen out of his back pocket as he flattened out the rumpled classifieds. He slashed through the listings for the three horrendous apartments he had just seen. There were only two more he was going to see today, but if they were anything like all the others, he wasn’t sure it was even worth it. He’d been pounding the pavement for a week now, trying to find a decent pad for him and Sam, and had found only crap. It was becoming pretty clear that this was all their less-than-stellar budget was going to produce.
Dean tapped his pen against his bottom lip absent mindedly as he tried to decide if the last two apartments were worth the trip. The waitress stepped up to the table with his food and he stilled the pen on his lip as he flashed a disarming smile up at her.
She blushed a little as she set his plate down in front of him. With one last glance, she scurried away. Dean smiled to himself as he took a big bite of his burger. She was kind of cute. Dean closed his eyes as he chewed. The burger was damn good. He’d have to remember to come back here once they got settled.
Dean reluctantly admitted to himself that he should go look at the final two prospects today. They only had another week to find a place and get moved in before Sam’s classes started, plus he had to get back home and wrap some stuff up before then. He hadn’t planned on being out here this long as it was. He shoved the last of his fries in his mouth as AC/DC blared in his pocket. He wiped his greasy fingers hastily on his jeans and flipped the phone open.
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean answered, around his mouthful of fries.
“Dude, chew,” Sam replied.
“Bite me,” Dean smirked, passing his credit card to the waitress as she came back with the bill. He winked at her as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Any luck today?” Sam asked hopefully. Dean knew he was anxious to have him back home too.
“Uh yeah, lots of great places today,” Dean tried to force cheerfulness into his voice.
“Right, days of nothing and now there’s suddenly a plethora of places?” Sam whined.
Dean wrinkled his nose in distaste, “Dude, don’t say plethora. It sounds dirty.”
Sam exhaled loudly into the phone.
Dean gathered up the classified ads and his credit card that the waitress had placed back on the table. “I’m heading to a couple more places right now. Don’t worry. I’ll find something.”
“Dean,” Sam started.
“Look, I gotta go,” Dean cut him off quickly, “I’ll call you tonight.” He snapped the phone shut as he climbed into his car. He just sat in the seat for a minute then shoved Physical Graffiti into the tape deck and cranked it. The bass jarring through the Impala made him feel a little better. He put the car in gear and headed to the next address.
*****************************
Dean almost kept driving when he spotted the next place on his list. The whole neighborhood looked like it had barely survived the fucking apocalypse. Against his better judgment, he pulled over to the curb anyway. As he locked the car door and headed for the entrance, all he could think was that his baby better be okay out here on her own. He glanced back at the Impala worriedly. “If anyone comes near you, honk.” He trudged up the crumbling steps and pulled the door open. He looked at his now sticky hand in disgust and wiped it on his jeans.
The super’s door was ajar and Dean knocked softly. A greasy, hairy guy poked his head out. He was wearing only a pair of holey sweatpants and Dean averted his eyes from the exposed beer belly uncomfortably. The guy scratched absently at his protruding stomach. “Yeah?”
Dean cleared his throat, “Um yeah, I’m Dean. I’m here about the apartment?”
The guy shoved his hand down the front of his pants and scratched as he leered at Dean. “Sure.” He grabbed a large ring of keys and lumbered toward the stairs. Dean followed reluctantly.
They trudged up five flights, Dean keeping a safe distance behind the super. They reached the door and Dean waited impatiently as the super wiggled 17 keys in the lock before finally finding the right one. He pushed the door open and gestured into the apartment like he was showing a room at the freaking Ritz. Dean slid past him gingerly. The first thing that hit him was the menagrie of odors assaulting his senses. It was a mixture of sweat, blood, alcohol, and probably urine. His eyes actually watered. He looked around himself in shock. This was the worst place yet. It looked like some sleazy motel room. The wallpaper was a crazy floral design and the paisley pattern on the filthy carpet made his head swim. There was some weird room divider that consisted of metallic fish staggered onto a pipe that went from floor to ceiling. Dean shuddered as a roach scurried across his shoe. There was no way they were living in this dump.
He hurried back into the hallway where the super was waiting. “Uh yeah thanks, I’ll let you know.”
The guy just belched in response and Dean rushed back down the steps and out into the fresh air. He leaned against the Impala, “Oh baby, you have no idea. Don’t worry, I won’t make you live here,” he reassured her, patting the roof. He climbed in and quickly crossed the address of his list. Only one more circled place. Dean drew in a deep breath. They were running out of options. He was pretty sure he’d seen every monstrosity in their budget by this point.
Despite his luck so far, Dean was semi-hopeful about this last place, it’s why he had saved it for last. It was at least close to campus and he knew it was a decent neighborhood. He wouldn’t have to worry about the Impala getting jacked. Dean decided to park at the campus and see how the walk to the apartment was to make sure it would be safe for Sammy. The weather was mild today and it felt good against his skin as he strolled down the block. There was a bar on the next corner that he approached. The Roadhouse. Dean peered in the window as he passed. There were a couple guys playing pool in one corner and a hot blonde behind the bar. Dean grinned. It looked promising. He continued up a few more blocks and turned the corner towards the apartment building. He stopped short when he saw it on the opposite corner.
Dean swore he could hear a chorus of angels as he looked up at the building. The whole bottom floor of the building was shaped like a freaking pie. The Pie Hole was plastered across the crust in big letters. Was this really a restaurant just for pie? Dean salivated at the thought. The ad had said the apartment was above a restaurant, but damn, this took the cake, or the pie as the case may be.
Dean couldn’t help but lick his lips as he headed across the street towards the giant pie. He pulled the door open and a bell tinkled merrily. As he entered he looked around himself in amazement. The whole interior was bright with colors. It looked like a unicorn farted a freaking rainbow all over the room. Despite the kitschy look that wasn’t exactly Dean’s taste, he couldn’t help but smile at the cheery décor. There was a long counter opposite the door. It had pie shaped stools lined up in front of it, and cherry shaped lights hanging above.
Dean bypassed the booths and tables in favor of setting his ass on a pie. It was just too good to pass up. He settled in somewhat gleefully, still taking in his brilliant surroundings. Dean knew he should probably ask about the apartment, but a quick slice first wouldn’t hurt. A man approached him from the other side of the counter, an apron tied around his waist. He wore a plain white v-neck t-shirt. He pulled a pen out from behind his ear and scratched his chin with it. “So?”
Dean was thrown off for a moment. It was hard to jive the joyful décor with this guy’s petulant tone. “Um, a slice of pie?”
The guy rolled his eyes dramatically, “Uh, yeah, it’s a pie shop. Would you like to be a tad more specific?” His British accent somehow made him sound even more smarmy.
Dean tried flashing him his charming grin, “Well what do you have?”
“Pie,” was the dry, but becoming more annoyed, response.
“Can you be a tad more specific?” Dean joked.
Dean received a piercing glare for his efforts and then the guy just turned and walked away. Dean gaped at his back. “But, what about my pie?” He mumbled forlornly. He was about to just get up and leave when the guy returned, a sour look on his face. He plopped a plate in front of Dean and practically threw a fork at him. Dean was about to protest, but the smell of the warm pie wafted up to his nose. He couldn’t quite identify the scent, but his mouth started to water anyway. He didn’t even notice the rude waiter heave a British snort as he left Dean to his pie. Dean eagerly grabbed his fork and dug in.
“Oh my God!” Dean groaned aloud around his mouthful of pie. This was the best fucking thing he had ever put in his mouth. And that included Tony Manero, the quarterback at his fourth in a string of high schools. Just as with the glorious scent, Dean was unable to put his finger on the amazing flavors dancing across his tongue. He opened his eyes to see the Brit cock an eyebrow at him as he leaned back against the wall, with his arms crossed. Dean smacked his lips unapologetically at him as he went in for another bite.
“So seriously,” Dean asked, his words muffled by pie, “What the hell is this?”
The British dude stared at him for a moment. “Castiel.”
Dean furrowed his brow, confused. That was a weird name for a pie flavor. Before he could ask any further questions, however, another man appeared from the kitchen. “Yes, Balthazar?”
“This gentleman ,” Balthazar gestured to Dean with a sneer, “was inquiring about today’s special.”
The second man turned toward Dean as he was shoving the last bite of pie into his mouth. Startling blue eyes gazed at him intently. Eventually Dean noticed that the man was looking at him expectantly, wearing a small smile. When Dean tried to speak, however, he realized his bite of pie remained in his mouth, unchewed. He started choking violently and the man’s face took on a look of concern as he hurried around the counter and started gently rapping Dean on the back. Dean spluttered, struggling to catch his breath. He finally regained some of his composure and took a sip of the water that Balthazar had so thoughtfully placed in front of him with another eye roll.
“Are you ok? You look a little red.”
Dean looked up at the man still standing next to him with a hand pressed lightly to his back. He knew the redness was more from embarassment than anything. Dean found himself mesmerized again by the bright blue eyes he was looking in to.
“Are you ok?” The man asked again, reaching toward Dean hesitantly with his other hand.
“Oh, uh yeah, I’m good,” Dean responded shakily. What the fuck, Winchester? What is wrong with you? He mentally berated himself. It’s not like he’d never seen a hot guy before, but fuck, those eyes. Dean couldn’t believe he had nearly just choked to death because some dude looked at him. He felt a flush creep up the back of his neck again.
The man seemed hesitant to believe him. “Really, I’m ok,” Dean reassured him, a little more collected now. The man slowly stepped away, his hand brushing down Dean’s back as he removed it. Dean had to suppress a shiver. The man walked back around the counter and shot a pointed look at Balthazar, who was barely suppressing a laugh at Dean’s display. Balthazar sighed and shot one final smirk at Dean before disappearing back into the kitchen.
Blue eyes turned toward Dean again and Dean concentrated on keeping his breathing steady. He slowly took in the rest of the view in front of him. The man was wearing an apron spattered with smiling dancing fruit. There was a smudge of flour on his right cheek. He had a mop of thick, messy, black hair and full lips. Long, thick eyelashes framed those ridiculous eyes. Dean blushed again as he realized the man was watching Dean’s eyes peruse him. He stuck out his hand as a distraction. “I’m Dean.”
The man looked down at Dean’s hand before grasping it firmly in his own. “I am Castiel.”
Oh that was the dude’s name! Dean felt stupid that he was just comprehending this. “The pie was really good,” Dean said, unwillingly letting go of Castiel’s hand.
“I’m glad you liked it. Balthazar said that you had a question?”
Dean stared back at him blankly.
“About the pie?” Castiel prompted.
“Oh, I just, I mean,” Dean stuttered. What the hell was wrong with him? “It was really good,” he finished lamely.
“Thank you,” Castiel responded. Dean couldn’t help but smile at the sincereity of his simple statement.
Castiel turned for the kitchen and Dean swept his gaze up and down, taking in his lithe figure and damn, that was a nice ass. He was gone before Dean realized that he hadn’t asked about the apartment. Dean rolled his eyes, frustrated at himself. He was practically swooning over a complete stranger. Dean decided to blame it on the orgasmic pie. He thought about going back outside and around to the apartment entrance, but the ad had said to inquire within the restaurant. He rose from his stool, standing awkwardly at the counter. Then he remembered that he hadn’t paid yet, so he took his time counting bills out of his wallet.
Just as he laid the money on the counter, wondering how he could dawdle anymore, Castiel emerged from the kitchen. He placed a triangular container on the counter in front of Dean. “I thought you might like a slice to take with you.”
“Wow, man. Thanks,” Dean almost forgot why he had been dawdling in the first place, when Castiel nodded with a small smile and turned away. Dean nearly just stood there watching him walk back into the kitchen. “Oh, wait!” He managed to knock himself out of his reverie before the pie man disappeared again.
Castiel turned back toward him. “I actually came about the uh, I mean, is the, do you know, the ad, about the apartment?” Dean’s eloquance was clearly impaired at this moment.
“Of course,” Castiel’s lips curved slightly. “Balthazar, I will be back shortly,” he called lightly over his shoulder. He turned back toward Dean as he pulled his apron off and folded it carefully, placing it on the serving counter behind him. “We can take the back way.” He headed toward an alcove in the corner of the restaurant and Dean grabbed his pie and followed. Castiel started up the wooden staircase at the back of the alcove. Dean failed miserably at not watching Castiel’s ass as it ascended in front of him.
The stairs emptied out onto a short hallway. There was a door on each side of the hall. Dean tore his eyes away from Castiel long enough to observe that the hallway was plain, but clean. That was basically a first in his search. Castiel had opened the door and was waiting patiently for Dean to finish his inspection. “Oh sorry,” Dean mumbled, hurrying to the open door.
Castiel smiled his serene smile again, “Take your time.”
Dean smiled back gratefully and entered the apartment. He stopped short at the sight and Castiel bumped into his back.
“Oh I’m sorry,” Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s arm, “Is something wrong?”
“It’s… it’s perfect,” Dean breathed, letting his gaze travel over the room. Before him was a bright open space that encompassed a kitchen on one side and what had to be the living room on the other. They somehow melted into each other while still being two distinct spaces. The entire back wall was a large window, lending a fresh sunny feeling to the whole space.
“You haven’t even seen it all,” Castiel asserted, easily taking Dean’s free hand and leading him to a door off of the living room that Dean assumed was the bathroom. Somehow it seemed completely natural for Castiel’s hand to be wrapped gently around his own. As Castiel guided him through the door, Dean realized that it didn’t lead to the bathroom. Instead they were in a long corridor with 4 doors off of it.
“Wait,” Dean started, “I thought this was a studio?”
Castiel tilted his head, looking at Dean as though he were a complete mystery, “Did it say that in the ad?”
“Well, no,” Dean admitted, “I just assumed from the rent and what else I’ve seen in my price range.”
Castiel appeared to ponder that, “I chose what I believe to be a fair price, but I do have to admit that I have been somewhat selective in choosing a tenant.”
Dean didn’t know how to respond to that. “Oh, well…”
Castiel dropped Dean’s hand to open the first door. Dean immediately missed the warmth. The first door did lead to the bathroom. Dean whistled as he surveyed the clean modern design. There were two sinks, a large shower, and was that a freaking hot tub? Castiel must have followed Dean’s gaze. “Technically it’s a jetted, whirpool bathtub.”
“Oh sure,” Dean cleared his throat. This was too good to be true. Maybe the rent in the ad was some sort of typo? Castiel moved to the second door and opened it to reveal a large bedroom with built in bookcases taking up the entire wall across from the door. Dean’s first thought was how much Sam would love those for all his damn books. The room also boasted huge windows to the right and a large walk-in closet on the left. This was crazy. There was no way they could afford this place.
Dean raised his hands almost defensively, “Look, dude, this must be some mist….”
Castiel cut him off, “Just wait until you see it all.” He moved further down the hallway, opening the door to another bedroom. This one also sported the cheery sunshiney windows on one wall. The wall across from the door had several shelves and electronic gizmos embedded in it.
Castiel again answered Dean’s unanswered question, “A built in media entertainment center,” he pointed to the corners of the room where Dean now noticed speakers bolted to the ceiling. “5.1 Dolby Digital surround sound,” Cas continued as he slid a panel up in the wall revealing a huge ass plasma screen, “an HD TV, Blu-ray, Sirius Satellite, mp3 jack, and my personal favorite, a record player, all hooked up to the speakers and run through this remote.” Cas wiggled a small remote at Dean before pulling open a cabinet next to the system. It ran from floor to ceiling and there were several pull out shelves within. They each had numerous thin slots running across them. “Record storage,” Cas said with a grin. That was the biggest smile Dean had seen from him and he couldn’t help but grin back.
Dean felt like this whole apartment had been made just for him and Sammy. He could just imagine all Sammy’s books on the bookshelf, and all his albums arranged neatly in their rack. On the other hand, he knew there was no way they’d ever be able to afford it. He felt he needed to tell Castiel and quit wasting his time, but the guy seemed so eager to show him everything. He figured he might as well see what was behind the last door.
Castiel took Dean’s hand again, pulling him excitedly out of the room and to the last door at the end of the hall. Dean laughed aloud at his exuberance. It was such a contrast from his initial calm demeanor. The door opened to expose a set of stairs.
“Dude, don’t tell me there’s a second floor.”
“Not quite,” Castiel’s blue eyes sparkled and Dean instinctively tightened his grip on Castiel’s hand as he was pulled up the stairs.
They practically burst through the door at the top of the stairs and Dean found himself on a roof top. There was a fire pit and a whole outdoor kitchen in front of him, with a cozy set up of lounge chairs and a couch behind it. A few yards to the side was a freaking pool. Castiel gestured to a small structure with a door sitting on the opposite end of the roof. It kind of looked like an outhouse. “Those stairs lead down to my apartment, which is across the hall from yours. You’re welcome to have access to the roof any time you wish,” Castiel went on, “As long as you don’t mind sharing occasionally.” Dean turned around and saw that they had just emerged from an identical structure. He moved behind it to peek over the edge of the roof. A low wall bordered the entire area and he leaned against it to look down. He could see the pie crust below them.
Dean turned back to Castiel to see him still grinning at Dean expectantly. “So what do you think?”
“I think it’s too good to be true,” Dean replied hesitantly.
Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion. “I don’t understand. It appeared that you appreciated what you saw.”
Dean felt the corner of his mouth twitch at the unintended double entrandre. “I did,” he assured Castiel, “but I know there must be some mistake. There’s no way a place this perfect is in our budget.”
“Our?” Dean couldn’t help but think the guy looked a little dissapointed. Or maybe he was just projecting his own feelings about the situation.
“Yeah, me and my little brother, Sammy.”
Castiel brightened a little. “Sammy,” he repeated thoughtfully. Dean thought the nickname sounded a little weird coming from someone else. Dean was the only one Sam allowed to call him that.
“Yeah,” Dean replied, “We’re just a couple boys from small-town Kansas and this is just too much.”
Castiel continued to ignore his protests. He strolled over to one of the lounge chairs and perched on the edge. Dean followed suit, sitting across from him. He noticed their knees were almost touching. “Why are you moving to California?”
“Sam’s starting classes at Stanford next week,” Dean stated proudly, “He’s going to be a lawyer.”
Castiel nodded solemnly. “I like you, Dean,” he replied simply, “I think I would like you to live here.”
Dean didn’t know how to respond to such an open, honest statement. He pulled the rumpled classifieds from his jacket pocket and held it out for Castiel. “I think maybe there was a typo in the ad.”
Castiel looked at it briefly, confusion flashing across his face again. “I see nothing amiss. Do you not think Sam will be pleased with the apartment? Or perhaps you do not want to live across the hall from your landlord?”
“No, none of that,” Dean quickly assured him, “It’s all fucking perfect! I just don’t see how the rent can be so cheap for a place like this.”
Castiel cocked his head to the side again, a hurt expression on his face. “You believe I am lying to you?”
“No! I…” Dean struggled to express that he felt he was the one taking advantage of Castiel. Surely he could get way more for an apartment like this. Dean also had to admit that the sheer perfection of everything about it, including the gorgeous creature sitting before him, made him a little uncomfortable. It was just too much. What had he done to deserve this?
Somehow Castiel seemed to understand all this just by watching the emotions that flit across Dean’s face. He stood and looked down at Dean almost tenderly, “Sometimes things are just good and true, Dean. As I said, I would like you to live here. If you feel the same way, you can move in immediately.”
Before Dean could protest further, Castiel continued, “I will give you some time to think about it and you may look around more if you wish. I will meet you down in the pie shop whenever you are ready.”
Dean watched as the pie man departed down the steps. He stood slowly and surveyed the roof again. He knew Sam would love this place and really what else had he found? Something about Castiel radiated sincerity, so Dean decided to take a leap of faith; not something that he was used to. He grinned as he moved to the edge of the roof and looked down at the scalloped edges of the pie crust again. He flipped his phone open and dialed. “Sammy, you better get packing. We’ve got an apartment.”