Set Fire To My Heart

Chapter 18: Flashpoint

Groaning, Castiel wakes to the brightness of the sun streaming into his window and the forgotten glow of his bedside lamp. He squints, and his head throbs with a dull pain. Additionally, his cock hangs heavy, with need, between his legs. Sniffling, Castiel opens the drawer in the nightstand and rummages for the lube. He pops the top of the bottle, figuring he'll kill two birds with one stone.

It doesn't take long for Castiel to start panting, his back arching as he fucks mercilessly into his tight grip. A few rough thrusts later and he unloads up onto his stomach, sighing deeply as his headache abates. "God, that was good," he whispers into the silence. Reaching over, he grabs his slightly stiff boxers, and wipes up, noticing his phone next to him and the scratch of dried cum on his chest.

Dangling his legs over the side of the bed, Castiel's foot taps something hard and cold. He looks down at the discarded whiskey bottle and the events from last night lock into place in his mind. Panic starts to build in his chest as he grabs his phone with a shaky hand. Certainly, he didn't, Castiel tries to convince himself. He swipes the screen, going to the recents tab, and sure as shit, Dean's name is not only the only recent, but it was also a video call.

Castiel begins to berate his stupidity as he makes his way into the bathroom. There is much more to do now than sit around and relax. Now, he has to apologize for whatever behavior Drunk Castiel thought was acceptable. He's going to have to grovel on his knees to Dean for forgiveness. Which would be incredibly hot, if it was something they were both into, but this wasn't a scene, this was inexcusable behavior. Dean was at work when Castiel called him. He could have cost the kind man his job.

Turning on the water, Castiel climbs into the spray and takes a thorough but brief shower, cleaning his body of the dried jizz and desperately tries to scrub away his shame, to no avail. When he finishes, he covers his body with a blue t-shirt and a stiff pair of jeans. Padding into the kitchen, Castiel makes a cup of coffee to clear his fuzzy head and steady his nerves for a call he never wanted to make. He looks at the device with disgust, then hits Dean's name, and presses Call. He waits for the line to pick up, glancing at the clock, the hand just passing ten o'clock. 

Dean stares blankly at the computer screen in front of him. Taking a drink of his coffee, he hopes for some inspiration. He's been working on the incident report from the vehicle accident they had a few hours ago and can't seem to concentrate on it. It should be simple. The run was simple, he's written dozens of these, but he can't seem to get anything right. He pokes at the backspace key angrily and nearly jumps as his phone starts vibrating on the table next to him.

He picks it up, and his eyebrows raise in surprise to see Castiel's name on the screen. Why would he be calling? Dean wasn't trying to complain, he was happy to hear the man's seductive voice. But after last night, he gets the feeling this isn't just a phone call just to talk. He feels his stomach do the annoying flippy thing it's started doing around Castiel and rolls his eyes at himself before taking a deep breath and answering the call.

"Hello?" Dean says, hoping he doesn't sound as nervous as he feels.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel's voice gravely through the speaker. "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."

Dean chuckles softly. "Uh, no, you're actually a welcome distraction from this incident report I've been working on. How are you?" He asks.

Castiel coughs a couple of times on the other end of the line, then clears his throat harshly. "It seems that I have some things to apologize for. Assuming my recollection of last night's events are clear, I behaved rather impolitely while you were at work."  

Dean shakes his head even though Castiel can't see. "There is nothing to apologize for, Cas. Not gonna lie, it was pretty hot," he pushes out a weak laugh.

"Dean, you could have been fired," Castiel whispers into the receiver, his mouth a tight line. "I have never done anything like that to anyone. I don't understand why you're not angrier with me," he sighs. 

"I wouldn't have answered if I was busy, no matter how much I wanted to," Dean lets out a small sigh. "It's cool, no harm, no foul. I'm just kinda glad you called, either way, to be honest," he says, softly, feeling himself blush at the admission.

"Glad I called?" Castiel asks, his voice unable to hide the surprise. "Why's that?"

"I didn't give you my number to not use it, Cas. It's not like I give it to just anyone," Dean chuckles. "I like talking to you, and I was a little worried after I left the other night. So it's good to hear from you."

"Why were you worried? I had an episode, and I didn't want you to see it. So I thought it best for you to go home for the night. My problems are not your problems, Dean," Castiel relays, pinching the bridge of his nose on the other side of the line.

Dean's brows furrow. "Right," he sighs, running a hand over his face. "Here's the thing, though. I know we haven't known each other very long or anything, but I worry about people. I like helping people. So, I'm sorry I overstepped."

"I. You didn't overstep. I'm just not used to someone being as attentive as you are," Castiel stumbles. "I suppose I'm a little confused about what you want from me."

Dean bites his lip, thinking to himself. "I wanted a chance to get to know you. I enjoy talking to you. I enjoy your company. But it's not like I'm expecting you to give me anything. You don't owe me anything."

Castiel takes a moment to let Dean's words settle in. There is obviously a hefty amount of chemistry between the two of them. Although Castiel doesn't easily believe the promises of other people, he is confident that he can trust Dean. What could it hurt to share a part of him with the other man? Swallowing hard, Castiel steels himself and musters up what little courage he has. "Dean Winchester, would you like to go on a date with me?"

Dean blushes and smiles into the phone. "I was actually trying to get the balls to ask you," he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, yes. I'd like to go on a date with you, Cas," he grins stupidly to himself.

Castiel breathes heavily into the phone. "Umm, great. When are you free? Do you like Japanese food? What kind of things do you like?" Castiel rapidly fires questions at Dean as his nerves get the best of him. He can't believe Dean said yes. Castiel tries to reign his hopes in, this is just a first date. But he has stayed over twice, his brain supplies and Castiel squirms where he stands.

"I'm free Friday if that works for you. I'm willing to try just about anything once, so if you know a good Japanese place that works," Dean laughs softly. "I don't normally venture too far outside of burgers, steak, or pizza. So that sounds like fun," he smiles into the phone.

"Great. Friday! How is six o'clock? The place requires a little more than a tee and jeans, so I hope you don't mind. Business casual is a safe bet," Castiel supplies, a little worried that the dress code might be a deal-breaker.

"Oh, not a problem," Dean says, trying to play it off as he mentally tries to run through his flannel and denim filled closet. Yeah, he's going to have to go shopping. He clears his throat. "Sounds good, I'll pick you up at six then?"

Castiel feels his face warm at the mention of Dean picking him up for their date. "Yeah, you haven't forgotten where I live?" He asks and immediately regrets it. Dean's been to his house a few times, he didn't need help before.

"Nah, I'm good," Dean grins into the phone, picking up his pen and putting it between his teeth. He takes in a breath to calm his nerves. "I'm looking forward to it," he admits.

"So am I, Dean," Castiel breathes. "Until Friday, goodbye."

"See you then, Cas," Dean smiles and feels butterflies as he ends the call and sets his phone down on the table. He stares at it for a moment in disbelief. He actually has a date. With Castiel. Dean takes in a deep breath and tries to push all the ways he can fuck it up out of his head.