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casbeanwrites · 5 years

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Duck And Berries (ao3)

A story about a meet cute, a duck confit, and a small matter of mistaken identity.

tags on ao3, deancas, no warnings, explicit

Chapter 1/6

Castiel has started to notice it happening.

The looks. People have begun staring.

Whispering, even, sometimes. He's not sure what it's about. It makes him feel anxious, self conscious. He always checks himself, wondering if his pants have a hole in them or if he forgot his shirt, if he has food on his face or toilet paper stuck on his shoe.

And then he meets him. And he suddenly doesn't mind the staring as much.

He's grocery shopping at the organic store around the corner. There's a guy. Cas spots him as he's picking out some pomegranates. He only sees his back - broad, thick shoulders nicely filling out his t-shirt. He can spot freckles on the back of his neck and along his arms, and he likes it.

The guy turns around and Cas almost stumbles backwards. So many freckles. Golden specks running across the most perfect face Cas has ever laid his eyes on, and pink shiny lips in the shape of a bow. A bow shooting an arrow straight for Castiel's heart.

And his eyes - Lord Almighty, so luminous they could shine light in the darkest forests. Eyes that are currently devouring Castiel, sliding up and down his body, that perfect mouth tugging into an appreciative grin.

He's doing it.

That man is doing that thing that people keep doing, except he - he looks like he's... actually... enjoying what he's looking at. A lot.

"Hello," Cas says, because the man keeps staring, and he doesn't seem to realize that his eyes can't actually undress him, and Cas is getting the urge to use the pomegranate to cover his crotch.

A sudden and gorgeous blush spreads on the man's cheeks.

"Oh. Uh. Hey. Sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Do you want a pomegranate?" Castiel offers.

The guy stumbles back against the fruit display, knocking out several grapefruits and sending them rolling to the floor around them.

"Sorry. I - no - sorry."

Next thing that Castiel knows, the man has ran out of the store, leaving his basket half full in the middle of the alley and Cas utterly puzzled.

Castiel takes more notice of the looks people give him after that. They're definitely not negative ones. Men, especially, seem... appreciative. Which is nice. New, though. People never really took notice of him before. He's pretty ordinary looking. In high school he was a thin, skimpy kid who kept to himself. His brother Jimmy managed to make their blue eyes and sharp jaw look cool with his punk outfits and his tattoos, but Cas was never that bold.

Sure, now he runs and does yoga and fills out his sweaters, but it wouldn't suddenly make a quarter of the population check out his ass like it's a piece of meat, would it? And it's not just the men. Some women, too. Really, it's as if his nudes have gotten leaked all over the internet. Cas would worry about it except that he has never, ever taken nude pictures of himself. No one else has either.

The last time he had sex, cameras had barely been invented.

So.

What the heck?

Cas can't stop thinking about him. The guy from the grocery store. With his apple green eyes and those insanely gorgeous lips. He liked the way the man looked at him. A lot.

Cas sees him again a few time, but he always seems to flee when their eyes meet. Usually because Cas turns around and catches the guy staring at his ass. Eyes green like grass pastures under the sun... Sun kissed skin, freckles like the country night sky...

But Cas can never gaze at him long because he always bolts out the door whenever he gets caught.

Until one day he doesn't. Cas walks into the store and finds him standing in front of the spice shelf, hands on his hips, wide shoulders squared. Cas moves silently behind him and peaks into his basket.

"Duck confit. Audacious."

The guy startles and jumps around, almost falling back into the rack as he trips on his heels. Cas grabs him by the arm and waist, avoiding him a most humiliating fall that would definitely have knocked down hundreds of spice containers and probably several rows to the floor.

"Thank you," the man says, breathless, as he lets go of his grip on Cas' shirt.

His breath tickles Cas' mouth. It smells like fruity bubblegum. He leaned into him when Cas caught him, their faces are inches close, their bodies intertwined. Cas steps back.

"I'm sorry I startled you."

"Yeah. You're like a ninja or something."

The man's cheeks are very red, and it makes his freckles stand out. It's stunning.

"What were you looking for?"

It takes the man a moment to answer, his eyes wide, staring at Castiel like he's not sure he's real.

"Um, Juniper Berries."

"Oh. You won't find them here."

"Really? Damn it." The man's face falls, his composure changes. "I've done like eight grocery stores to find them. This is the fanciest place in town."

Cas grins, preening a little.

"I know. They're impossible to find. That's why I grow my own."

The stranger runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"Guess I'm gonna have to do my confit without them. Most of the recipes don't need them anyway."

"It's much better with, though. Disappointing without, really, I wouldn't bother."

Green eyes squint at him.

"Well since I don't grow weird berries in my garden, I don't have much of a choice."

Cas wets his lips. The man already seems to be regretting his impertinence. He shifts his weight, rubs the back of his neck. He's still flushed. Cas wonders if he always gets this flustered around strangers. He also wonders if his lips taste as sweet as they smelled.

"Maybe I could help you out, then."

Cas' heart pounds a little faster - he doesn't remember a time in his life he's been this bold. But there's a definite curiosity in the man's eyes. A hope. And Cas is enraptured by it.

"Yeah?"

"You bring the duck, I bring the berries. We could… share a meal."

The man's gorgeous mouth falls open. And then he smiles.

"That's an idea."

He stretches out his hand.

"I'm Dean."

Castiel takes it. It's broad, warm.

"Castiel."

"Castiel? Really? That's your real name?"

It's not the first time Cas gets that question.

"Yes. My parents were... special. Castiel was the angel of Thursday. It's quite a mouthful, I know. Call me Cas."

"Right. Cas."

They exchange phone numbers, fingers light and shaky, and then make their ways to the register. Dean keeps shooting Castiel quick glances, and Cas isn't sure how to interpret them. How to decipher these eyes constantly on him, detailing him from head to toe. Not that he minds, exactly. They're gorgeous, and warm, and he doesn't get enough of looking at Dean either.

They walk out together in silence, until Cas reaches his car. Dean looks at him. He fidgets with his bag. He's absolutely adorable.

"Is it, uh - is it like-" He bites his lower lip. It's so plump, so pink. "Is this like a date thing?"

"Only if you want it to be."

There's that boldness again, coming from God knows where. Cas holds his breath.

Dean grins. Wide.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

Cas wonders if he should've kissed Dean, but it feels too soon, and then he's gone.

He should probably have waited more than ten minutes after arriving home to text Dean. But he sucks at this whole... dating, or whatever, etiquette. He wants to see him again, he wants to see him soon, and who cares if he looks overeager. He is.

Dean responds so fast it's almost as if his phone was already in his hands. They can't seem to find a date that fits them both for the coming week, which Cas is disappointed about, but in discussing their hold-ups they get to talking about other things. About Dean's family - his mom, his brother. His other mom and his step-sister.

They talk about Cas' life as well, his friends, this stupid cocktail parties he has to attend at school. He hates those, but networking is important, especially right now that he's just graduated and is looking for a job.

He learns that Dean has studied history, specializing in medieval weaponry. Which springs a very long and deep conversation between them that last between one and four a.m. about their favourite weapons and time periods and the coolest artefacts they've ever found. They're talking on the phone by then - Dean called around midnight because the text bubbles just couldn't contain all they had to say.

"Archeologist, uh," Dean says when Cas tells him his own degree. "That's hot. Like Indiana Jones. Or Brendan Fraser in The Mummy."

"As an historian, you should know movies like that never depict our jobs accurately. Field work very rarely results in vengeful spirits being released or heroically fighting off Nazis. Sadly."

"I'm still gonna picture you running around with a whip and a plunging neckline," Dean replies in a salacious voice.

Cas' breath catches in his throat a little. "Please do."

They hang up around five a.m., bickering about who's fault it is that neither of them has gotten any sleep.

"I'm sorry about having to cancel," Cas says as he walks around his apartment, grabbing things and shoving them in his suitcase.

"Hey, I get it."

Dean's voice is warm through his phone. They finally found a night that fit them both and were supposed to have their duck confit date tomorrow, but Cas actually got the field job he applied for months ago and needs to catch a plane to California in the morning.

"I don't want you to think it's because I'm trying to get out of it. It's a last minute work thing. I didn't think I had gotten in and I just got the call..."

"Don't worry about it."

"I might be gone a month," Cas stresses out. "I'm very sorry."

"A month? I didn't know shoots took so long."

"Shoots?" Cas frowns.

"Isn't that, um - aren't you... shooting...?"

"No. I'm going on a dig. What would I be shooting?"

"I -um - it's-" Dean stammers. "Because you said California. I thought - L.A., y'know. Show business. I assumed you were going on a shoot."

"I don't do any consulting, unlike you," Cas says. "I'm going on a dig."

"Oh. Hey, that's great! You got a field job like you wanted! That's awesome, Cas. 'M real happy for you."

"Thank you," Cas grins. "I'm just sad I have to cancel on you."

"Postpone," Dean corrects.

"Really?" Cas bites his lips, trying not to grin too wide, even though Dean can't see him.

"You kidding? I'm getting that date, Cas. Don't care how long I gotta wait."

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