Wrong number? //destiel//

Book Store

When Cas had found out about Dean's job, he'd instantly bought each book and returned to Gabriel's flat, because he still wasn't ready to leave him alone, and settled on the couch with a cup of coffee and a book entitled; Wings. It was simple, and Cas liked that. He refused to read the synopsis of the book, figured he'd let Dean explain it to him as he went.
"Okay, I'm not texting until I've finished this book of yours then we are having a discussion."
Putting his phone on silent Cas settles back and starts reading.

"Dean Winchester you pick up this phone!"
Cas hits call for the third time, pacing as the tone comes through the phone. Finally a groggy, deep "hello?" comes across the speaker. "Dean!" "Cas? Dude what the hell? It's like 1am." "I don't care. How could you?! How could you do that you asshole!" Cas snaps, tears falling down his cheeks as he paces his apartment, Gabriel had forced him out of his after a few hours. "What? Do what?" "Why'd you kill him off?! Why did you have to send him to that god awful city and meet that annoyingly charming man!" He hears Dean chuckle, "you read Wings didn't you?" "Yes and I hate you so fucking much Dean! They were in love, they were away from everything and finally happy and you tore them apart!" "Cas, Cas it's just a book." Cas sniffs. "It's not just a book Dean. What happens in that is not just fiction. It happens. It happens to people." Flopping back on his bed Cas covers his eyes and chokes back a sob, chest tight as he replays the book through his head. "It happened to me." He pauses, waits for the intake of breath or the muffled 'I'm sorry' but instead Dean comes back with a question. "What was his name?" "Eric. His name was Eric." "Eric. That's a nice name." "He was a nice man. Kind, and sweet, and funny. Used to make me smile even when I felt like shit." Cas mumbles, eyes shutting as he remembers.

The brown eyes, blonde hair that always sat everyway but the right way; and the sight of him, down on one knee with the red box in his hand. Cas still has the ring. He hasn't touched it since that night, kept it safe in a box his brother had brought him home from a trip to Turkey. "He sounds lovely Cas," Dean interjects, jerking Cas from his thoughts. "He was. I loved him." "I'm sorry Cas. If I had known I'd have told you to stay away from that one." "No. No, I enjoyed it, I loved it. Just a little tender I guess. I know it's been 4 years and I should move on, Gabriel keeps telling me to, but I haven't found the right guy. The one that makes me smile like he did, or makes my heart flutter when he talks to me or-" "Or? Cas?" He's sitting up, staring at the wall across from his bed. He runs through his last few sentences, pondering over each section as he chews his lip. He had smiled like Eric used to make him, laughed for the first time in God knows how long, felt that familiar flutter in his chest. "Cas?" "I'm sorry I need to go. I'm sorry Dean. I-I'll talk to you later." "Wha-" Cas hits end and flings his phone on the bed, eyes wide as he stares at it. No. Surely not. Surely Cas was not falling in love with a wrong number?

~~

Dean wakes with a groan, a muttered 'fuck off' and a swat at his brothers persistent shaking. "Dean c'mon, you have a book signing in an hour." "Five more minutes Sammy." "Dean I swear I will pull you out of bed if I have to!" With another groan, Dean knows there's going to be lots of them today, he hauls himself out of bed and slumps to his bathroom. Shucking off his boxers he steps in the shower and relaxes under the hot spray. He knows it's a mistake, knows it'll only make him more tired but fuck it felt good. Although within a few seconds he's doing what can only be described as an Indian tribal dance when Sam reaches a hand through the curtain and flicks the water pressure until it's ice cold. "J-Jesus! Fuck Sam!" Sam's response is a dark chuckle and a smack to the curtain. "Didn't want you to fall asleep again, c'mon I brought you coffee and a croissant from that café you like."

He's dressed twenty minutes later; jeans and a tan sweater with his glasses perched on his nose. Despite knowing that he won't have any messages Dean still checks his phone as he wanders to grab his coffee. None. Sighing he sits across from Sam and looks up. "Where are we going?" "Book signing at a, well I suppose recluse bookshop, a few blocks down. It'll be small, only 50 or so people so it won't take long. I know you want to finish the chapter, which," he hands Dean the folder back. "I made a few notes but fuck Dean that's so good. I think this one will do better than your last two, positive best seller." Dean will never not blush at Sam's compliments, never not do the 'no it's not shut up you asshat' which Sam will always hit him for and reply, 'dude you shut up and take the damn compliment.' So after that conversation they sit in silence while Dean chomps happily on his croissant before Sam's ushering him out the door with a "C'mon Dean hurry up!" "I need shoes Sam!" "Fuck sake here! Now go."

Twenty minutes later they're stepping into the quaintest little bookshop Dean has ever seen, with a small table in the window where the sun lands perfectly, and music playing softly in the background. Dean knows he'll be back here, whether for another signing or pleasure, he doesn't care. "Where do we go?" Sam points at a door just to the left, where a small man is sitting in the office inside. "You go check in with him, I'll make sure every things set up." The man looks up once Dean knocks the door, golden eyes flickering over him before a smile envelops his face. "You must be Dean!" "Yes. Hi," "Gabriel." The man supplies, offering a hand. Dean stares for a second. "Gabriel? Gabriel Novak?" "Uh, yeah." A smile appears on Dean's face as he shakes Gabriels hand. "I've hear so much about you. Cas never shuts up about you." "Cas?" "Castiel, your brother?" Dean can spot the moment when realization dawns on Gabriel's face. "You must be that Dean. Mr non-therapist Dean." "The very one."