Bring It On Home- A Destiel AU [COMPLETED]

Chapter 23

Laura and Jeff sat down on one side of the table, Dean and Cas sat across from them, and Sam sat at the end.

"You know, I can't believe how long we've lived in the same neighborhood without knowing each other," Laura said, smiling forcibly over the pizza. "I'm glad we finally met." She was trying, by God. Dean appreciated that.

"That's my fault." Cas scooped Caesar salad onto his plate. "I was avoiding you."

Laura's smile faltered.

Cas looked up, and paused. "I'm... shy," he said slowly. "That's why. I hope you understand."

A lie, an out and out lie, and Dean appreciated that too.

Laura's face relaxed into sympathy. "Of course."

"So, Castiel..." The name rolled off of Jeff's tongue like a foreign name, syllables from another language. "What do you do for a living?"

Cas used his knife and fork to cut his slice of pizza into little pieces. "I'm a photographer."

Jeff looked intrigued. "Oh? What do you photograph?"

Castiel chewed his bite, and swallowed. "Naked men."

Dean choked.

Sam coughed and laughed too loudly. "Ha ha ha! Very funny, Cas. He does landscapes mostly. Don't you."

Cas looked down at his plate, clearly disappointed at being thwarted. "Yes," he sighed.

Dean tried to remain bright and cheerful and not frustrated. "Jeff, why don't you tell Cas about your job?"

"He's a physical education teacher," Cas said in a monotone, not even looking up from his plate. "High school. He played football in college and he coaches the team."

Jeff's eyes bugged out. "Oh, you googled me, huh?"

Cas didn't answer. He just took another bite of pizza. Then he looked around the table and asked, "Are any of you fans of Abraham Lincoln?"

Dean flushed red. Okay. Time to step up the game.

Sam cocked his head, and Jeff and Laura nodded tentatively. "I think everyone likes Honest Abe," Sam answered, smiling a little. "Except the Confederates."

Cas grinned. "Yes, yes. What's not to like? Dean was just telling me the other day about how much he likes the Emancipation Proclamation."

"Really?" Laura laughed. "That's what you do in your spare time, Dean? Talk about the Emancipation Proclamation?"

Dean knew he was roughly the color of a beet, and there was no way of hiding it. He just chuckled and said, "I'm a bit of a history buff." Then he surreptitiously slid his hand under the table and waited for the right moment.

"Is he ever," Cas agreed, scooping a big helping of salad onto his fork. "He really gets into it."

Dean slid his hand under the kilt.

"He's extremely enthusiaaaAAAahhh!" Cas froze in mid word, his mouth hanging open, his fingers digging into the tablecloth.

Everyone else stared.

Dean leaned in closer, his face the picture of shocked concern. "What is it, Cas?"

"I - I apologize," Cas stammered, resolutely not looking at Dean, the tablecloth twisting in his hands. "I think there was a - a - a - spider in my shoe, and it - ahhh - it just bit me." He bit the inside of his cheek and his nostrils flared.

Come on, Dean mentally dared him. Push me away. Say uncle.

Sam stood up, alert and concerned. "Really, Cas? Are you okay? Do you need -"