floorboards creak...[ch: four]

Dean expected a few things to happen today: probably get hit by a snowball on the way back into his apartment, eventually have to apologize to Sam, have to let the Universe get him back for evading a collision this morning, and maybe get micro aggressed by an older man who “clocked him.” What he didn’t expect was to run into Tom…or, Cas as he says his name is.

What he knows so far, as Cas calms his breathing is that  1) the guy he has been too chicken to DM back lives upstairs from him, 2) they might be anarchists or something which reminds Dean once again that he’s not in Kansas anymore, 3) the cartoon of him did not do this man justice and Dean feels justified in being attracted to what he felt viewing the guy’s profile and 4) Cas is not a stalker. 

He’s ridiculously attractive and currently having a panic attack being brought on by Dean accusing him of being stalker and stepping to him like it was time for a hate crime. He doesn’t know how to tell Cas that he can tell he’s gay and that it’s not an issue. And that he can totally be gay around him. Or bi or whatever he was. He also doesn’t know how to to tell him that he’s not homophobic and that he wasn’t gonna hatecrime him ever. He feels like he’d stick his foot in his mouth trying so that’s how he ends up staring at his feet like a kid who stole candy at Gas N’ Sip as Cas does some breathing exercises to calm down.    

When Cas opens his eyes he looks embarrassed but his eyes are kind. He looks at Dean and smiles and Dean doesn’t know when his face decided to be a mirror. He wanted to apologize and now he looks like a doof staring at a cute guy like he used to at thrift shops and record stores back in Kansas. 

 --

Cas clears his throat and looks down at his shoes as he speaks, “I suppose I should thank you for your patience, so...Thank you, Dean.” 

Something in Dean’s chest lurches, wanting to reach out to him and hug him. He settles for a “Anytime, Cas—not that I want you to have another scare like that, I’m sorry I did that I’m not—I didn’t mean to scare you or anything.” Cas’ eyebrow goes up in critical curiosity as he tilts his head. 

“Do you think you scare people?”

Dean’s eyebrows bunch together trying to find a way out of what is no longer a segway into figuring out if the guy is into other guys. 

“I hope not?,” he says to Cas which only prompts a deeper tilt. It’s bad form to date in your building anyway, Dean figures, according to all the message threads he read before the move. And Dean thinks he deserves friends now that he’s in a new city so he settles for, “No, I mean, if someone accused me of being an anarchist or something back where I’m from it could have led to some heated discussion with some unsavory folks so I just didn’t want you to think I’d put you through that. I mean we’re neighbors, that would suck to think the guy in 1A wants to give you the third degree about your—stances or whatever.”

Cas blinks. “I grew up in a Christian cult in Ohio and ended up being a communist who lives in New York. I’ve burned out my fear of anything.”

Dean feels like someone popped a cold water balloon over his head despite the cold already present around him. 

“I-I’m sorry, man. I—Thanks for telling me that,” he says for lack of anything better to say, and it makes Cas laugh. It’s a sound that makes Dean want to lean in and hug him and it’s not until Cas stops laughing to observe their proximity that Dean realizes he had leaned in. He clears his throat, swaying further backward where his body should have stayed as Cas says, 

“It’s not your fault, Dean. Given you just met me, and have no connection to them, very little is.”

Dean gives him a lopsided smile, slightly embarrassed.

“Yea, well, you say that now. Wait until you know me, ha.” He says as he shifts his weight and rubs that back of his neck. 

Cas reaches out and pats his shoulder gently and says, “Uriel and Gabriel’s background checks are elite tier. If anything was ‘unsavory’, they’d know.” And then puts both hands in his pockets again. “So, is it time to start over or is this enough for now?”

Dean thinks on it. Maybe he shouldn’t make the guy indulge a third degree about his siblings' fed behavior or spill his guts out about this cult but he’s sounding more and more like some Matrix side character. “Uhm, maybe later, man. How about a drink? We could ease in after that little clash, ha,” Dean chuckles out uncomfortably. “Maybe you can tell me why you don’t know what they do and go from there?” As he watches Cas’ head snap back to straight and blink, a dog and its possibly grade school attending owner lay claim to where he was on the sidewalk and he has a split second to decide to barrel into Cas or sidle up to the wall. He chooses the latter and watches Cas take in the transition like a barn owl tracking a field mouse. 

“You’ve gone quite casual quite quickly. Wherein lies your fear, Dean?” he says as Dean goes to shoulder lean on the wall. He contemplates showing his discomfort by standing straight back up but figures he should barrel though on account of having to see this guy where he lives often enough that they should battle towards comfort instead of cordiality. 

“Back in Kansas since I’m not there anymore I guess,” Dean says as he shrugs, he knows it’s not completely true but he’s not sure what in the interaction has him feeling like he’s fighting for his life despite how nonchalant he looks and sounds to Cas.  

“I just told you I was in a cult after you accused me of being an anarchist and now you wanna buy me a drink. You find that reasonable,” Cas questions plainly.

“Well first, we’re definitely splitting a tab, dude and second it’s to apologize for doing just that,” Dean says around a confident grin. To further wiggle out of the inquisition, he adds, “Wait, do you even drink?” 

Cas grins in turn. “On occasion, I hear water is good for your health.”

Dean can’t help that his face widens into a full blown smile. 

“More than water, you dick,” he chuckles out. 

“The bar around the corner also sells coca cola products,” Cas gives him with an eyeroll. 

“Coc-...Du-...Cas, do you ever get a sense you’d like to get tipsy with a possible new buddy, yes or no.” 

“Mmmh,” Cas hums as he ponders. Dean can’t believe it, Cas genuinely looks like that brought him clarity, it’s adorable. “I might like that in general, maybe tonight, even,” Cas eventually lands. Dean’s smile spills out with laughter. 

“Awesome, lead the way.”

--


One of the great things about O’Malley’s is that by 5pm Cas is likely to meet one of his siblings behind the bar or at a table. Balthazar took a few after-lunch shifts when he wasn’t at the salon and Uriel liked to pretend he was there for the WiFi and music and not Balthazar’s company. Cas was never sure why they pretended to only tolerate each other when they went to bat for each other the hardest on the commune.

On the walk over Dean explained that he and his brother Sam were here for a new lease on life. Cas can relate. Dean is waiting for work to start at a mechanic shop but he sounds less than excited about it. Cas remembers what it’s like to do work you have no passion for so he doesn’t push just yet. 

Inside the bar is another familiar face,  Meg, who puts on a wry smile to greet him. Cas could feel himself blushing as he walked over to say hello. 

“Hey, Clarence,” Meg crooned as she playfully tugged on Cas’ long leather crossbody bag while she gave Dean a once over behind him. 

“Uh, it’s Dean, actually! But nice to meet you, ma’am. You a friend of Cas’?” Dean asked with a hand extended, yet another gentleman Cas gathers. 

“She was talking to m—” Cas begins.

“Ma’am? Oooh, I like that,” Meg  saunters around Cas and Dean to give Dean a 360 once over, “but I was talking to him.” 

Cas feels Dean move closer to him and whisper, “Dude, how many names do you have?” seemingly hoping to avoid more interaction with Meg. She giggled as she made her way back in front of Cas. 

“Just one plus the one I gave him,” Meg says, Cas might enjoy the way she teases but Dean looked fairly uncomfortable if not confused. Meg wasn’t the kind of person who turned off her domme personality around new men. 

“Meg is…a good friend and mistress,” Cas starts, as Meg full-on laughs this time. 

“And a good techie to boot, I’m here installing cameras just in time for Brody or Connor or whatever to arrive. Remember the way-too-old-to-act-like-a-frat-boy suit that came in here the other day that I almost punched before Balth stepped in?”

Cas suppresses a sigh, “I’ve heard the story from both you and Balthazar but I was at the library at the time.” Meg rolls her eyes and continues, 

“Well, apparently, he’s a repeat offender according to Balth and Anna, and knows too many lawyers so I figured if the space just happens to have cameras and the guy comes in drunk already anyway then it’s admissible in case he fights us for kicking him out this time.” 

Dean chimes in, “Wow, I think I found my people.” Cas looks to see him sighing like he was relieved to be in decent company, Cas can relate. He looks back at Meg to explain that they’re now neighbors but Meg leans in past Cas’ shoulder and says in a sultry tone, 

“Oh baby, if you think we’re yours just know that you’re mine.” Cas turns to explain Meg to Dean a little more clearly and finds that he’s fairly rosy and pleading to him with his eyes. 

“She’s mostly joking until you consent.” Cas offers as he shrugs. 

“Ah ha, I’ll hold off on giving that up, thanks,” he says in a rush as he slinks into a bar stool. 

Meg cackles and pats his head as she looks over to Uriel’s booth.

“Good boy,” she says before quickly trailing down his shoulder and grabbing the beer Balthazar offers her. Dean chuckles nervously with a smirk that looks displaced plastered on his face. When he finally turns back to Cas he deflates since Meg is no longer in purview or earshot. 

“Dude, I thought you were gay and I was gonna be able to practice being an ally. That chick has the hots for you and that looked like history. What gives?” Dean says as he hooks his thumb over his shoulder inconspicuously, looking out for Meg no doubt.

Cas tilts his head to think about how to reintroduce Meg. “Meg is…one of the most interesting people you’ll meet here. She’s a pro-domme as her weekend and night job, does a few nights here as a barback, and works at a nursing home during the day. So virtually harmless but definitely has found a way to put her foot on necks under the patriarchy. She typically uses her internal power to disallow things like catcalling and snark from guys not to work in her favor in the end. It’s refreshing, you’d like her if you’re looking to work on allyship.”

Dean nods curtly like an eager student. “And for a price she’d give you the honor of begging.” Dean’s eyebrows shoot up but he doesn't look completely disinterested. “Our arrangement was that I got to do houseboy stuff and sometimes cuddle, nothing sexual but I am bi…ish. Straight people usually think I’m one of them, that’s interesting that you picked up on that.” 

Dean blinks but doesn’t look too stunned, “Your bio or tweets had rainbows, I just guessed, my bad.” He chuckles nervously as he shifts in his seat probably hoping not to seem homophobic. Cas reaches to relieve him. 

“I supposed I’d rather you be ready to ally than ready to bash me so that’s fine. I’m glad you’re not weird about it.”

“Nope! Not me,” Dean says overly chipper, okay, workable weird it is. “Tell me about this Connor or Braden or whatever guy.”

Cas chuckles as Dean leans in like a gossip, “So apparently, he’s one of those guys who needs to drip some type of -ism into everything he’s saying to remind people he’s on the top of the privilege food chain. If he’s around Uriel he’ll say something racist, if it’s Anna it’s sexist, if it’s Balth it’s homophobic despite seeing all the ally signs. He comes in here to be obnoxious and pull the ‘educate me then’ spiel like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Dean mimics a vomiting sound. 

“The internet is free for suits, that’s so jank.” 

“Well yes,” Cas explains, “ and algorithms are tricky. If you act like you don’t care about anyone who doesn’t look like a founding father, the internet is gonna help you stay that way.”

“Up to a point,” Balthazar says as he comes back to their side of the bar. “Life is getting more and more interconnected. Even the suits can’t stay in algorithmic bubbles for long, and the real world does still live and breathe.” He gestures to the various pride flags and old protest signs. “If he comes into an establishment such as this looking for education the least he could do is actually quiet himself and listen instead of doing all that mouthing off.” He extends his hand to Dean, “Balthazar, brother of Cas, nice to meet you.” 

“Amen to that. Dean, I'm your downstairs neighbor then,” Dean smiles at him kindly, “Wait, no offense, but why do you sound British?”

Cas provides, “He was adopted, much like all of us.”

Balthazar nods and adds, “It seems my genealogy is such that my parents were likely a Turkish and British pair, the only shame is I didn’t get the coloring. I spent time in a London orphanage before being adopted into—” Balthazar looks at Dean and seems to think the better of something. “Mayhem and nonsense. But luckily, we all were able to scurry and burrow into the northeast so it all comes up aces in the end, it seems.”

Cas thinks that decent enough of a primer, it’s best not to overwhelm new friends. “How long are these cameras staying up, Bal?” 

Balthazar turns to grab them both a water to start, “Oh, Cassie, you know how I abhor the surveillance state, once Brad or what have you is gone and Uriee gets the recording, they’ll disappear once again.” 

Cas looks around and can see the new teddy bear atop the bar mirror that looks eerily similar to the original one they took a tracking device out of before they left the cult. Though this one probably has a camera in it as Cas looks closely at the eyes. 

Balthazar seems to notice, “Little teddy’s twin is convincing enough, no?” Cas nods. 

Next to him Dean whispers as Balthazar heads to the other side of the bar to serve new customers, “Was I being xenophobic?” 

Cas chuckles, “Not necessarily. But feel free to ask him later. Bal is a semi-open tome.” 

Dean nods and asks Balthazar for two beers of whatever is on tap when he looks less busy and thanks him for this trouble. Above the mirror is what Cas can only assume is one of the many nature documentaries on Netflix. 

“Oh, sweet! This episode has ducks,” Dean says beside him, with a bright smile, “Back in Kansas I used to take Sammy to watch them sometimes.” Cas raises an eyebrow. 

“I didn’t take you for the wildlife type,” Cas says, to which Dean clears his throat and looks away briefly. 

“Yea, well, Kansas has a wide variety and surprising  amount of those things,” he says when he looks back over, a confident grin across his face. “Also I know my way around the wild, our Uncle used to take us into the forest to do some camping. Early on we realized Sammy wasn’t one to want to hunt.”

“And you?” Cas inquires, he’s not sure why he wants to know so much. Maybe it’s the way Dean’s eyes come alive in conversation. He decided not to ruminate, friendly conversation is just that; friendly. 

Dean seems to blush a bit though as he shrugs, “I…I don’t really like to hurt things or make them bleed, life’s cruel enough to nature, ya know?”

Cas nods slowly. 

“That’s kind, I agree,” he says, patting Dean’s shoulder. It makes Dean lean closer and give him a friendly bump.

“Don’t go thinking I’m soft though, I’ll still tussle with a whateverphobe if I have to in case you wanna come here or somewhere else again.” 

“I have no doubt in you yet, Dean.” Cas says with a smile. Dean tucks his head a bit under the attention. Cas wonders distantly if this is how Meg felt when she pet him. Balthazar finally comes back around with their beers and complimentary shots. 

“Take the little ones first, it may be a long night, 6 o clock, be sly,” he tells Cas. Dean also covertly looks around before looking behind him. Cas didn’t think he’d fit in this well so soon. 

“Your turn,” Dean says as he takes his shot. Cas raises his own but Dean stops him. 

“Wait, did you eat today?” His eyebrows both raise in question as Cas tilts his head to inquire Dean continues with a shrug, “I dunno, man, you look like a lightweight. Wouldn’t mind carrying you home, but I don’t know how many steps it is up to your place yet and I’ve got sciatica so it would eventually suck for my back.”

Considerate and with decent boundaries. Dean is making it hard for Cas not to develop a crush. 

“I’ll be cautious with my intake, Dean, but I assure you I had two deli half sandwiches for lunch. As Meg would often say, I am a ‘big boy and can put away a lot’ so you needn’t worry. But I appreciate your offer, thank you.”

He watches as Dean’s throat works through the beginnings of his beer before taking his own shot. “Did you eat, Dean?” he asks as the burn sets in from the tequila. 

“Ah, yeah, had two burgers to make up for skipping half of dinner and breakfast. But I should cut myself off after another beer, my sleep’s been trash and I should probably drive my car back in front of the building. I checked all the signs where it is, I should be good for another three hours,” He checks his chunky black watch and smiles at Cas. “So I’m a big boy too.”

Cas’ mouth betrays him and as Dean starts to drink again he says: “Good boy.”

Dean chokes a bit and beer spills over his lip and down his chin.

“Sorry, bad joke, bad timing. It was funny when Meg did it,” he says, hoping it saves him as Dean uses his jacket to wipe his face off. He doesn’t seem to trust himself to speak so he shoots Cas a thumbs up and then coughs. Cas busies himself with looking for that troubling customer instead of any more poor attempts to ameliorate the situation. 

“S’all good, seems fine,” Dean rasps before he coughs again. Cas is grateful that he is going such great lengths not to be homophobic. It’d be best not to pry and ask why it’s “fine” to him. Cas sets his sights on the suit currently pestering Uriel now that Meg has walked away from his table to tend to her barback duties.

The guy is getting progressively louder, all Cas has to do is wait long enough to be able to comfortably interject. As he makes eye contact with Uriel, Uriel cocks his eyebrow and winks because the guy, already drunk, has looked away for a chance moment to point at a protest sign and complain about it. 

“Brah, people have enough rights in America, why do you people still have this up.” The guy recklessly flicks the corner of the “Trans Rights are Human Rights” sign. Uriel decides to bait him, 

“You and I both know you’ve never seen a name tag or apron on me. Yet somehow you’re the type of guy who thinks every Black person you meet in an establishment is working there. Tragic. Even though you peer over my shoulder and pretend you can teach me how to code whenever my laptop is out? Fascinating. There aren’t enough rights, by the way, surely the only reason you talk to me is because no one gave you the right to shut the fuck up.”

The guy exaggerates squinting at Uriel’s face and then gasps comically loud. “Oh shit, You are the same guy from before? Sorry, homie, I was just trying not to think all Black guys are the same, bruh. Figured you had a bunch of jobs since the economy is bad for your people.” The guy says with a smile after just feigning confusion. It’s Cas’ cue to speak. 

“Congratulations on learning the fundamentals of object permanence, it’s time to graduate to learning some decorum.” He slides off of his stool and walks around Dean’s stool, putting his back towards him. “Even if you had prosopagnosia, if you got your head out of your ass and listened to people you feign interest in speaking with you’d know when you’re talking to the same person.”

The guy looks startled but recovers with bravado, “What did you say about my prostate, dude?”

Cas sighs dramatically, “Oh I get you, you can’t actually learn about terms related to people of different ability statuses. At this rate, it would be a disrespect to disabled people to teach you anything. Because you can’t listen. You can only weaponize. You can pretend to be hard of hearing but you’re not, you can pretend to not see and recognize faces but you, in fact, can. Your only purpose is to parade your ignorance hoping all people do is roll their eyes and wipe up the dribble that can’t quite reach your bib. Duly noted. So what’s your next shtick, I’m a white guy, so you probably only have one shot.” 

The guy squints, and gets up, trying to find a tell. Cas takes off his jacket and crossbody bag. Pretending to look prepared to fight.

“Hey, man, I’m just here for friendly conversation.” He looks to the back and smirks.

Cas rolls his eyes. “What you call friendly has demonstrated itself to be quite insufferable even from way over here. Take your rhetorical shot, we’re equally matched.”

The guy hesitates and looks back at Uriel who is pretending to read a book, Giovanni’s Room.

“We-well, why are you takin’ up for him? You two gay or something?”

Cas blows a raspberry and Uriel mirrors the action as Cas says, “Sounds like you want me to be. Is that why you come in? Are you flirting with him? I have to say I can’t imagine between the lack of class and the racism you could manage to present yourself as an eligible bachelor. Don’t ask how I know I can already tell you’re single.”

Meg giggles and saunters towards Cas from behind the bar.

The guy puffs up his chest and stalks closer, “So you’re gay and don’t wanna tell me then? That your boyfrie—?” Meg pulls Cas into a quick kiss before flipping the guy off and going to sit in his seat near Uriel. Uriel puts his arm around her and they read together like the guy isn’t even there. 

The guy scoffs and goes to open his mouth but Cas clears his throat and starts to fold up his sleeves, “Call her anything other than a child of God and you won’t know which way to run.”

“Thanks, babe!” Meg calls over to him. 

Cas grunts and cracks his knuckles, he hasn’t put on a show like this in a while. He forgot how fun it is. “So back to your rhetorical shot,” he says as he raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Cas has faced quicker witted bigots before but he is thankful the alcohol is slowing the guy down. He gets to recycle language or get the guy to throw a punch. The guy looks like he’s unsure of his next move or which angle to take, but he’s eyeing Dean’s water, typical; a shower not a grower. That’s fine by Cas, so he continues.

“What if you just said what you needed to say without adding your failed politics to it? Perhaps people would see you as less insufferable and receive you better. You think feigned incompetence will help you here and that people will teach you. I personally think you’re fake, not incapable but I also don’t teach the unteachable. So commence; we’re equally matched, take your rhetorical shot.”

The man looks around and sees no one is even giving him the satisfaction of an audience. People have made busy because his behavior has alienated him. So he switches strategies, seemingly to de-esclation. “Bro, cmon we’re in a bar, we’re just being guys here. Be a man. You're not being a real man’s man. I’m a man’s man. You don’t gotta treat me like that.” 

Cas makes a show of barking out a laugh, “The men here don’t like you, which demonstrates that regardless of your gender, you are not a man’s man. You are an ingrate and a makeshift fool.” Cas hears Balthazar snapping like it was a poetry slam before he asks a customer if they’d like a refill.

The guy is getting angry again, “You don’t even know them!” 

“Oh? You don’t think I know my kin? A presumptuous reprobate, you should thank me for the clarification, I’ll have you know they’re my brothers.”  

The guy spins around and points at Uriel who has switched to a book of poetry, “That guy’s Black!” 

Cas puts on his mom voice, “Good job, Johnny, we’re all adopted and he’s a better person than you’ve clearly ever been.” 

The face begins to redden, “You can’t say that to me, you could just tell me your story so I can be on your side, dude!” 

Cas exaggerates his eye rolls. “I think the way you take in demographic information about other human beings is fundamentally flawed. You want me to stroke your ego and win you over but you have no problem doing anything other than being humble. I have no reason to hold your hand and rub your back. You could stand to stop making people give life to you bite-sized. Take your time to chew knowing I gave it to you whole.” He lifts his hands to air quote and says, “bro.”   

The guy stumbles forward and grabs Dean’s water, Cas side steps and says, “Duck.” 

Dean, who was accepting another shot from Balthazar, didn’t hear him in time and got a face full of water.

Balthazar leans and says to him, “That’s as good of a green light as any, Dean-o.”

He stands up and says to Cas, “Wrong water foul,” with a tiny smile before scowling and grabbing the guy by the lapel.

 The guy squeaks and complains, “It was an accident, that dick was ruining my good time.”

“Tell it to Rush Limbaugh, pal,” Dean grits out with bass in his tone. 

“This is against my rights as an American!” The guy pulls against Dean who is pulling him towards the door of the bar. 

Uriel steps forward again and says, “If it weren’t for the mics and cameras we set up today, maybe you’d be right. Say hi to candid camera,” He lifts up a handheld device to shoulder height in case the guy tries to grab it. 

“You were recording, too? Uriee, you saint, so was I!” Balthazar chimes in.

“You can’t show that to the press or my job, man, just let me leave, man, I’ve got a career.” 

Cas laughs again, “You want freedom from consequences and freedom to run your mouth too? Tragic. Unfortunately, you also assaulted a patron which is very evident by my dripping wet friend here. Luckily for you we keep a penal law book beneath that protest sign, shall we take a look and see if you have a case?”

The guy blanches and shakes his head.

 Dean drags him the rest of the way out of the bar and then releases him on the sidewalk. “And stay out!” he says before taking his hand off the door, letting it swing shut.

He gives a goofy smile to Cas. “Always wanted to say that.”

Cas finally exhales, he hadn’t realized he was holding a breath, “You’re wet. And you made a pun about water fowl and you don’t seem mad that you’re soaking in New York tap water.”  

“Dude, you were awesome just now, if you’re not on a hero’s high I’m on one for you.” He pulls Cas into a hug, “And now you’re wet too so it’s all good.”

Cas groans but can’t be mad he has an excuse to hug Dean back.

Uriel laughs behind, “Ha, new guy gets it. I might like him.”

Dean releases Cas much to Cas’ dismay, to give Uriel a handshake.

“Dude, you were awesome too. All I did was grab the guy, you two were a true dynamic duo with that dick.”

Uriel accepts the handshake and claps Dean on the back.

“Flattery? I do like. Keep him, Castiel. Keep him.”

Cas flounders, “I—He’s—”

Balthazar assists, “Uriee, dear, he already lives in our building. How much more kept can he get?”  Uriel shrugs and waves them off, accepting a shot from Meg who had been passing them around to the regulars.

Cas clears his throat and starts on the useless ordeal of drying his shirt by squeezing the fabric before Balthazar throws a rag on him. “I’ll get you and Dean here some merch hoodies for your troubles.”

“Thanks, man,” Dean says as he picks up the rag. “May I?” He says to Cas smiling, Cas doesn’t know what he means to do but nods anyway. Dean pat dries his own neck and then Cas’ in quick order, tosses the rag and begins to remove his jacket. 

From behind the bar Meg croons, “Oooh, take it off, playboy” before turning to assist the newest person to sit at the bar. Dean’s clutches at himself, throws her a forgiving smile to her back, and looks at Cas with pleading eyes.

Dean leans in to combat the various rounds of applause and shouting and asks, “Is there, uh, maybe a bathroom?” 

Balthazar yells from the back at the same moment, “Dean, come be a dear and bring these to you and Cas, I’ve got to sign for a crate!”

Dean whispers, “Let’s both just go back there, man. Not in the mood to give a free strip tease, heh.” Cas can tell Dean’s not really bothered by Meg but does seem to want them to both be further from Meg’s audience nonetheless.

Cas nods seriously and states, “I’ll lead the way.”

The bar is still filled with victorious raucous around them. Cas starts to reach for Dean’s hand but thinks the better of it and recovers by fixing his hair. He doesn’t understand the reflex to do either.

Dean does the same and also aborts and scratches his head before chuckling and scratching his head again. Cas feels remiss immediately but reaches for forward motion. New successes are always ahead, he reminds himself. Though he’s not sure what he seeks to succeed in.

“Shall we?” Cas says before walking towards the bright blueish light of the bar’s back of house.