Stolen(Destiel)

Untitled Part 6

The diner was casually busy at two in the afternoon. Waitresses wore stereotypical yellow dresses with plain white aprons, hair in pony tails and serving soft drinks in clear plastic glasses with too much ice.

Dean sat with Castiel in a booth warmed by the flood of sunlight, the former having nearly finished his double bacon cheese burger with grilled onions while Castiel sat with an untouched glass of water next to him. He didn't like eating much, and still was not used to the habit of his body needing sustenance roughly 2-3 times per day. The day had been hot even though summer had begun to wane, cheap plastic blinds raised in the diner to let in scorching sunlight. An overweight trucker wearing suspenders sat at the bar eating his meal while a single mother and two rowdy children sat near the entrance, the youngest girl trying to sprinkle pepper in her older sisters' clear soda.

"I just don't understand why you are so opposed to attending."

Dean let out a heavy sigh, greasy fingers crumpling an already crumpled napkin. "Those aren't my type of things."

"That's not a valid reason, Dean."

"Dammnit Cas!" Dean slammed his hand down on the cheap metal table, perhaps harder than he meant to, his temper getting the best of him again. This argument had been going on for nearly fifteen minutes now, back and forth over the same points. He calmed himself down, the abrupt noise he'd just made bringing him back to reality. It was the reality that across from him sat the only creature, human or otherwise, who had ever understood him. Who had ever known the pain and experiences he had been through, and who under no circumstances would leave him or forget him, or not come to his rescue.

They were discussing the pride festival downtown, where Castiel had inadvertently wandered in. Still confused about human nature and human activity, he had followed a throng of people inside some rainbow colored gates. Everybody had seemed happy in the crowd, and he had passed through without a ticket. The jubilant crowd then dispersed inside a large park that was surrounded with a temporary wire fence, the kind he had once kicked Dean into. He winced at the thought and wandered towards the noisiest part of the park. But just as he came upon the central stage, the performance ended. Ever the patient one, Castiel took a seat in the front row as people began to get up and wander off, either to vendors, performances on other stages, or the beer garden. He sat down quietly on a plastic folding chair that had once been white but was now visibly scuffed from dry dirt and mud.

He had sat quietly for nearly twenty minutes, hands in his lap, people watching and waiting for another performance to begin. Everybody was happy it seemed, laughing and eating shaved ice or talking loudly and walking with children. He saw things perhaps too promiscuous for him to approve of, and yet the pure, positive energy comforted him in the crowd of strangers. Men were holding hands with men, women with women, and some he could not identify which gender they were but he didn't question because all the people he saw had smiles on their faces. And that's what truly mattered in humans, as far as he was concerned.

"Are you here alone?" came a slightly effeminate voice. A young boy, perhaps 22 or 23 sat down next to him, wearing jean shorts and a white and blue striped tank top. He wore expensive sunglasses and had a rainbow-colored bracelet on his wrist.

He looked at the boy and thought for a moment, "Yes, I suppose I am." He said it in his usual slightly confused yet complacent tone.

"You couldn't get anybody to come with you?"

"Hmm, no..." he let the word linger in the air. Who was he supposed to take? Dean and Sam had been busy, and he didn't know any other humans that would want to wander around the city with him.

"Well if you want, you can join my boyfriend and I and our friends; we're over at the beer garden." He spoke quickly, trying to make I less awkward for this guy who was obviously awkward by nature. "I saw you here and thought how sad it was that one of us is alone on a day like this."

"One of us?"

"Yeah," he simply smiled and stood up with a spring in his step, leading the way to the beer garden where one of the other men in the group bought him a beer. He'd had beer a few times now; it came with the territory when you were around the Winchesters. The boys were very nice and very happy, and talked slightly loudly and excitedly. They talked about the performers that were going to be on stage next, and how one of the members of the group just had to see Chuck Spring perform. He couldn't miss that performance, and convinced the rest to find a seat in the sea of white scuffed chairs, Castiel sitting between the two couples as they gleefully chatted away.

Throughout the day he gathered what this festival was all about; it was about people like him and Dean. Two men who were intimate together; yet he didn't understand why people didn't approve of it. People disapproved of it so much that there had to be festivals to push back against those who were against it; there must have been a lot of hate in those people's hearts, thought Castiel silently. He had learned from Dean that if he was not sure about what to say or if it was appropriate, it was best not to say anything at all.

His new friends questioned him about whether he had a boyfriend, and the word made him smile ever so slightly. "Yes, I suppose I do" came his answer and they began to question him all about Dean. By the end of the conversation they were convinced that Dean was perhaps the worst boyfriend ever and was probably abusing Castiel both mentally and physically. After all, Castiel described Dean as slightly cold and shut off from his feelings. He mentioned how they never talked about their intimacy or showed affection towards each other in public. How Dean could drink a 6-pack in a few hours and still be thirsty. He mentioned their physical fight, and how Dean seemed to snap at him every so often but he assumed it was because he didn't understand how he fit in to this whole world. He didn't understand how he fit in to Dean's world, his friends assumed, and that Dean wasn't making time or space for Castiel but they had no idea of Castiel's thousands of years of history or his and Dean's real relationship. He told them Dean was a hunter, and they didn't like that.

"So he's a hunter hunter, like hunts animals? Or like he's 'on the prowl'?"

"Umm, just a hunter, I think."

Skeptical looks were exchanged.

"And how long have you known him?"

"A few years, but we only recently started sleeping together."

Awkward silence.

"He's the first one I ever-"

"Wait, what?"

"Your first?"

"First, ever?"

Castiel didn't like the way they were looking at him. So he nodded, "Yes, is that... bad?" He didn't see the problem they were coming up with in their minds as the performance started

After watching Chuck Spring perform and around 1:30 or so, Castiel bid his friends goodbye and left them with a phone number. He left the parade, getting a stamp on his hand on his way out should he want to return at some point during the day. He had walked up to the diner thinking over the day; the songs that were performed were really good, and the guy on stage had such a range of a voice (Castiel had no idea the songs were recordings, and were performed by a Drag King). He entered the cool, quiet diner to meet Dean, and was filled with warmth upon seeing him sitting at a booth already, sipping at a coke when he raised his eyes to meet Castiels.

But now here they were at the end of Dean's meal, arguing over the festival. Dean, of course, thought this whole pride thing and festival was nonsense and would never be caught dead, alive or otherwise at one of those things, no way.

"I just," Dean slid his nearly empty plate to the side, a few haphazard fries left on the fake porcelain. "I don't..." he sighed, words not coming out of his mouth. He struggled, especially with the words of his professions, of his love and his need for Castiel and needing his shoulder to lean on, and how much he wanted to let Castiels gentle hands comfort his soul that was left so long aching alone in the darkness of human existence.

Dean reached his hands across the table slowly and placed them over Castiel's, feeling the familiar shape of his bony fingers growing thinner by the day. "They need that to prove," he paused, "to prove to their," he paused again, "partner how they feel, or to themselves about how they feel but I don't..." he looked down at the table, then back up again in to Castiels eyes, taking care to form the words in his head before he spoke them, "I don't need a festival, to tell me how I feel about you." He squeezed Castiel's hands gently, comfortingly.

"Need a refill?" Came the waitress's voice and approving eyes, hand hovering near Dean's nearly empty coke glass.