More Personal Than Trainer.

Chapter two, Dean is fucked.

   The sidewalk was cracked. A small crack, spiraling into many branches that traveled outward. Dean decided to toe his boot at one of the small weeds growing from the opening in the cement. He didn't want to be here, but he needed to be. He stood outside of the white apartment complex for a long time, debating whether he should go inside.

    It was almost a week before Dean called, and then they chipper young women set a date for two weeks after; today. Dean didn't believe a word of what this guy could do, no one was that dedicated to fighting. It dead ass said he started boxing when he was ten. Dean scoffed, shaking his head. He toyed with the end of his leather jacket, watching puffs of warm air fall out of his mouth. It being late October, the air was rather cold. It looked like they were going to have another early snow, Dean inwardly hoped it would come later rather than sooner.

    Dean finally decided to give up on waiting, walking to the gate and pressing the room buzzer 47D. It took only a moment before there was an answer. "Hello?" The same girl that was on the phone with Dean asked. "Uh, hi... I had an evaluation with Mr. Novak?" He awkwardly mentioned. Dean wasn't ever awkward, but he was a bit wary of what to expect. "Mmhmm, Name?" She asked. "Dean. Dean Winchester." There was a pause before she spoke again. "All right, I'll buzz you in."

    Dean walked in, through the weirdly nice lobby. Dean didn't expect this kind of thing. He wasn't used to being in nice places, especially such a prestigious area. Dean ignored the various looks he got, walking across the marble floor to the elevator. He went up to the fourth floor, looking for room 47.

    He found it quickly, knocking on the door. It opened almost immediately after. A red-headed girl, presumably the assistant on the phone, answered the door. She was much shorter than Dean, but still had the gate of someone larger. She was wearing a faded Star Wars T-shirt and black pants, along with squared glasses swallowing most of her features. "He's in the main room." She said waving to the doorway across the large entry. Dean nodded.

    Once inside, he let his eyes take in just how large the apartment was, it was gigantic compared to his and Sam's place. The room was bare, besides a huge blue foam mat on the floor, with a shelving unit with a various range of objects on it, and a small loveseat couch with Castiel sitting on it. He looked rather ominous, the wide window behind him casting a shadow on his face.

     He stood, clipboard in hand. His blue eyes scanned over it, seemingly bored. He tossed it back onto the couch, heading over to Dean.

    Castiel's face had a weird confusion to it, seemingly studying Dean. His eyes were so blue all other blues looked gray. His hair an extremely dark brown, and Dean decided there that he was rather attractive. Dean had been with plenty of men and women, but it wasn't like that, that wasn't the word that came to deans mind when he saw Castiel. He just couldn't describe it.

    Lost in his mind, Dean hadn't noticed how close he had gotten. Castiel stood only a few inches away, Dean hid the blush on his face as he quickly backed away. Castiel only deepened his furrowed brow, tilting his head to the side. A small smirk appeared on his face causing Dean to feel warm.

     Castiel walked back, picking up his clipboard. "Dean... You signed up for the full defense and basic offense course?" Castiel asked, looking back at Dean. Dean shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. "Yes." He replied. Castiel rose a questioning eyebrow, "you do know that's a four-month course?" He inquired. Dean nodded. Castiel shrugged, dropping the clipboard again, and pulling off his trench coat, blazer, and stripped his belt, followed by his pants. Dean Forced himself to believe that he didn't want to look. Castiel didn't leave Deans eyes as he loosened and removed his tie.

     Dean was not gonna lie, that made him way to happy. Castiel unbuttoned his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. Castiel stood on the mat, kicking off his shoes. Castiel looked at Dean expectantly.