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Phi Delta Theta's Stupid Cupid party couldn't have come at a better time if you ask Castiel Novak's opinion. He failed his midterm, putting his scholarship at risk. His roommate just got back together with his ex and they've been having obnoxious marathon sex the past week, neither of them giving two fucks if Castiel is sitting right there. His best friend Charlie just got a new girlfriend - which is great, don't get him wrong, he's ecstatic for her - but that means she's never available lately. And, to top it all off, Castiel's ex - who he broke up with this past fall after finding out he was cheating on him the entire 2 years they were dating - just got spontaneously married to the very same guy he had been using to cheat on Castiel with.
Suffice to say, it's been a shit week.
That's how he finds himself in his best pair of jeans and a casual button-up with the sleeves rolled, handing over the $20 cover to get inside a frat house he would normally not be caught dead in.
He doesn't even have time to doubt himself. Some guy hands him a drink within 30 seconds, and even though normal Castiel thinks hmmm maybe we shouldn't drink something we didn't pour ourselves, self-destructive Castiel thinks fuck it.
----
As the president of the frat, it's Dean's job to oversee everything. It sounds hard, but he really just needs to make sure they don't break any laws that will get them banned. Mostly, he just lets his buddies from the frat keep an eye on things for him. Especially since Dean's usually distracted by at least one naked person in his bed before midnight.
Right now, Dean's leaning on the railing of the second level and peering down at the dance floor below. He's not sure what kind of person he's in the mood for tonight. Girl. Boy. Somewhere in between. More than one.
So many choices, so little time.
His best friend Benny brings him a refill just as a group of people down below start cheering. Dean leans over to look at what's going on and smiles when he sees that some cutie with messy black hair is starting to strip, his button-up shirt getting thrown into the crowd. The crowd boos when he stops there but he says something over the music about patience and everyone laughs and starts dancing again. Many people seem to be waiting for a turn to grind on the guy.
"Who is that?" Dean asks, recognizing the guy but unable to place him.
"Castiel Novak. A senior."
"Novak." Dean tilts his head. Novak. Novak. "Why does that name sound familiar?"
"Gabe Novak was president 2 seats before you. Castiel's the guy who turned down a legacy seat our freshman year. Remember? We were all floored by him. Couldn't believe he walked away from a free pass."
"Shit, yeah. Lit major, right? Nerdy? Michael was pissed he couldn't change his mind. Said it made him look bad as president."
"That's him, yup."
Dean frowns as he watches Castiel stumble a little, nearly falling down. When he's stable, he accepts a drink from some guy Dean doesn't know. Castiel chugs it as the group around him cheers. The guy who gave him the drink looks at him like a piece of meat.
"You coming, man?" Benny asks. "Beer pong tournament's about to start."
"No." Dean leans on the railing again, eyes focused on Castiel. "Count me out for that tonight."
Benny shrugs and pats him on the back before leaving him alone.
Unfortunately, no one else decides to leave Dean alone. For the next hour, Dean's forced to deal with a constant stream of people. Some act like they're his best buddy even though he swears he's never seen them before. Others just stop to say hello. Quite a few try to flirt or get him to join them in a secluded area to get to know each other.
Dean deals with every nuisance without ever looking away from Castiel. His vantage point is perfect, allowing him to see when the guy is dancing in the living room, or chatting in the dining area, or getting a refill in the kitchen. The only time he's out of Dean's sight is when Dean blinks.
At some point, Castiel strips off his plain under-shirt, leaving him in nothing but jeans. Dean watches the same dude that's been giving Castiel drinks all night reach for Castiel's belt as he grinds against him. Castiel either doesn't notice or doesn't care.
Dean lets the guy remove the belt. He even lets him begin pushing Castiel's jeans down - but the moment he sees Castiel's eyes flutter shut and his muscles weaken, Dean's on the move. If he makes an ass of himself and Castiel chews him out then so be it. The risk is worth taking.
"Get out of here," Dean growls at the guy the moment he's close enough to him.
The dude drags his hand across the front of Castiel's boxer briefs and squeezes. Castiel isn't hard. At all.
All it takes is one perfectly placed punch to send the guy reeling backwards and away from Castiel. A second hit as the guy falls to the floor ensures that he's knocked out by the time he hits solid ground.
Castiel is so out of it he just keeps swaying with his eyes closed, a strange expression on his face.
Dean hikes Castiel's pants back up from where they lay bunched at his ankles and quickly does the top button. A phone is on the ground that he assumes is Castiel's but it's dead. He stuffs it in his pocket and focuses on Castiel again.
He tries to get the guy to move so he can bring him somewhere quiet and figure out where his friends are - not that they're very good friends if they've let this happen to him. Castiel doesn't budge, though. He's dead on his feet.
"Fuck." Dean crouches down and heaves Castiel over his shoulder, rolling his eyes when the guy giggles at the sudden flip. He even pinches Dean's ass.
"Dunno who'y are, but y'git a fanda'sic asssss."
Dean chuckles. "Thanks. Yours isn't too bad itself."
"Mmmmmmmmm."
"Hey man, where ya goin'?" Dean's other best friend Ash asks when Dean's heading down the main hall of bedrooms. He has two girls with him. They both look at Castiel with concern.
Dean nods his head in the direction of Castiel's body. "He had way too much. Some asshole was practically molesting him while he was barely conscious downstairs. I'm gonna let him sleep it off in my room."
"You think he got drugged?" Rage flashes in Ash's eyes. "Did some son of a bitch drug a person in our house?"
"No. No, I don't think so. I was watching. He took drinks from others but… he took a lot of fucking drinks. Way too many. Think this is just a binge."
"Aright. Good." Ash shakes his head, still looking upset at the thought that someone would be drugged under their roof. Dean and his fellow brothers are determined to make the house safe at all times. They think fraternities that use their houses to get away with immoral and illegal shit are disgusting.
"Catch ya later?" Dean asks. "Or are you gonna be busy for the night?"
Ash smirks at the two girls with him. "We'll see where the night takes us."
"Okay, man. You three have a good one then."
Dean hikes Castiel up further, aware that the guy has stopped moving or talking. He's probably out cold. He uses his key to get into his bedroom and quickly enters before anyone can see them. For some reason, this feels private. It feels as if Castiel needs to be protected even more so than just being somewhere safe while he sleeps his drinks off.
Once he gently places Castiel in the center of his bed, Dean removes his shoes and turns his body so he's lying the correct way on the mattress. He rolls him onto his side and stuffs a pillow behind his back so he won't choke if he throws up, then pulls his comforter up to tuck him in.
If Dean takes a minute just staring at the guy, mesmerized by how god damn beautiful he is, then no one has to know.
He forces himself to walk away, though. Even though he'd love to stay all night by Castiel's side, he doesn't have the right to. He got Castiel somewhere safe. Now he needs to be respectful and walk away.
Dean drags the bathroom garbage until it's beside the bed, then places a glass of water and a bottle of pain relievers on the end table. He scribbles a note and puts it folded against the bottle before placing his key beside it. He plugs Castiel's dead phone into his wall charger. Then he locks the door from the inside and walks out.
----
The first thing Castiel thinks when he wakes up is: shit, where the hell am I?
The second thing is: I'm going to throw up.
He turns in a panic and finds a wastebasket on the floor. There's no time to reach for it so he just doubles over and hopes his aim is good.
It takes a long time to empty his stomach but it feels good once everything has finally been purged.
Then the panic sets in.
He's in a bed.
Castiel is in a bed that isn't his.
In a room that isn't his.
His shirt is gone.
His jeans - oh, thank god. His jeans are still there.
Trying to take deep breaths, Castiel runs his fingers through his hair and starts looking around. There's a poster of a shirtless cowboy. Another with a muscle car. One more with Led Zeppelin. There's a flat screen TV mounted on the wall. A bookshelf below it. The bedding smells fresh, which is surprising because Castiel's pretty sure he's still in the frat house from the night before. At least… he thinks that's where the party was.
He shouldn't have gone alone.
How could he be so stupid?
Just as Castiel decides he should take his pants off and check himself for any signs of sexual activity, his eye catches a white piece of paper leaning against a Tylenol bottle.
Cas,
Ya had a few too many.
Don't worry, no one touched you.
Take your time.
Your phone is charging on my desk.
If ya don't mind, text me so we can meet up and get my key back. It's the only one that exists.
Thanks,
Dean
Castiel picks up the key and turns it a few times in his hand. It's the only one that exists. Meaning whoever this Dean is, he left it to make sure that Castiel felt safe. To prove that no one but Dean had been in this room.
If Castiel could fall in love with a person from a note, he thinks he would have just now.
After throwing up once more, Castiel goes to the attached bathroom and takes a shower. It's probably not the politest thing to do but Dean did say to take his time and Castiel reeks of sweat, vodka, and vomit. Not a great combination.
He realizes his mistake when he gets out, though. His jeans are dirty and his shirt is nowhere to be found. Who knows if it was even ever in this room.
Unsure of what to do, Castiel wraps a towel around himself and goes into Dean's bedroom. He takes a pair of sweatpants from the man's dresser and then a shirt, both coming from the very bottom of each drawer. Castiel's hoping them being there means they're rarely worn and therefore not valuable.
Then he picks up his phone, turns it on, and dials Dean's number.
----
Dean's phone starts to buzz just as he's sitting down at his favorite off-campus coffee shop. He pulls it from his pocket and smiles at the unfamiliar number, hoping it's the boy that spent the night in his bed. "Hello?"
There's a hesitant pause. Then, "Uh… hey. Is this - is this Dean?"
"Sure is."
"Okay. Cool. So, um, this is Cas. Castiel." The boy clears his throat before laughing awkwardly under his breath. "I'm the guy-"
Dean wouldn't be able to fight his smile even if he wanted. "I know who ya are, Cas."
"Oh. Good. Good. That's… good."
"Good." Dean chuckles. "Are you free right now, Castiel?"
"Yeah. You?"
"I am. Do you know where Joe's is? The coffee shop on Main? It's just a few minutes walk from-"
Castiel cuts him off. "Yeah, I know it."
"Cool. That's where I am if you want to come this way? Breakfast on me."
The boy on the other end of the line laughs. "You saved my ass last night - literally, most likely - so I think I can spring for breakfast."
"Fair enough. See you in a few then?"
"Yes, Dean." Dean can hear a smile in Castiel's voice. "See you in a few."
----
Since Castiel doesn't actually know what this mysterious Dean looks like, he feels pretty damn awkward as he stands just inside the entrance of the coffee shop, eyes scanning the crowd for… he doesn't even know. A guy that looks like he could belong to a fraternity. A guy that looks like he had a fantastic moral compass. He imagines the guy to be cute, but that's not a confirmed fact.
"Cas!"
Castiel quickly turns his head to the left, seeking out the source of his name. His eyes immediately land on a guy sitting at a table by the window. He's gorgeous. Way better than Castiel had imagined. The sunlight filtering in from the window makes it seem as if he has a halo. Castiel can't help but smile.
When he takes a seat across from Dean, he sees that Dean seems to be unable to stop smiling as well. "Good morning, Castiel."
Castiel shivers. He doesn't know why but he does. "Good morning, Dean."
There's a slight pause, awkward and heavy, as the two stare at each other. Castiel perks up when he remembers his reason for being here. He digs into the pocket of Dean's sweatpants and starts to blush as he suddenly realizes he's now sitting in front of Dean while wearing his stolen clothes.
"I… uh," Castiel pauses to clear his throat. He hopes Dean can't see how hard his hand is shaking as Castiel offers Dean the key to his room. "Here ya go."
Dean gives him a charming smile. "Thanks, man."
"No - thank you. Truly. It means a lot… what you did." Castiel looks down at the table and shudders at the thought of what could have happened to him last night. He barely remembers arriving at the party. If Dean hadn't brought him somewhere safe, anything could have happened. If that key hadn't been there, Castiel would still be wondering right now if he had truly been safe in Dean's bed. "It means more than you could ever know," he whispers, looking at Dean through his lashes.
Dean's expression is full of understanding. If they weren't complete strangers, Castiel would swear he even sees a hint of protectiveness in it. "No one gets hurt under my roof. I'd expect the same from all of my men."
"Under your roof?" Castiel realizes what it means as he says the words. A brief flash of his brother Gabriel fills his mind. He can't help but think that Gabe would be very proud of his successor. "You're the president." Then Castiel realizes another thing. "That's how you knew my name. Because of my brother."
“Yes.” Dean's expression twists. “Were you there last night all alone?”
Castiel shrugs a shoulder. “A lot of people were. It wasn’t a date party, it was a stupid cupid party.”
“I didn’t mean a date. I meant with friends. Did you have any friends? Someone to look out for you?”
“I can look out for myself.”
“Clearly.” The one word feels like a slap in the face. When Dean sees Castiel’s flinch, he puts his hands in the air. “That was - I’m a dick. That was out of line. I’m just worried.”
“Why? You don’t even know me.”
Dean’s eyes travel along Castiel’s face as if he’s searching for something. Then he settles his gaze on Castiel’s and tilts his head ever so slightly. “No, I don’t know you. But… I’d like to.”
“Why? I mean… I showed up to a party by myself, got so wasted I can’t remember anything from the night before, could’ve even been drugged, did god knows what - I have this awful feeling that I stripped in front of everyone because my clothes weren’t in your room, then I steal your room and bed, throw up in your garbage, steal your clothes after taking a shower in your shower, and now here I am, pathetically bringing you back your key and thanking you for making sure I didn’t end up… god, end up dead. Or - or fucking worse.” Castiel squints at Dean in confusion. “Why in the world would you want to know somebody like that?”
For some reason, Dean smiles. Grins even. “Because you’re the same guy who, when Michael sent pledges to your dorm freshman year to recruit you - me included - literally yelled us out of the building, wagging your finger the entire time as you went on about the patriarchy and toxic masculinity.”
Castiel feels himself blush. “You remember that?”
“Yes. It’s the kind of thing that sticks.” Dean laughs fondly, green eyes sparkling. “So, what do ya say, Cas? Will you let me get to know you? The good and the bad?”
The answer is embarrassingly obvious. Easy.
“Yes.”