Chapter Text
Castiel was having a terrible day. To be more specific, he was having the most terrible day in the history of terrible days. And given that Castiel was a major crimes detective in one of the busiest police departments in Metro City, that was really saying something.
The fact of it was— Castiel had a problem.
Other people had problems too, of course. They had problems with over-demanding bosses, traffic jams, shit coffee, and overflowing in-trays. However, unlike Castiel, not everyone had a problem that wore a hood and a mask and went swinging around the city at night, punching out criminals.
Castiel’s particular problem went by the name of Hunter. Hunter had a penchant for dealing out vigilante justice, wearing way too much black leather, and being a major pain in the ass for poor, overworked police detectives like say, one Castiel Milton.
Castiel had nothing against comic book vigilantes, not by far. He even enjoyed a Batman comic or two sometimes in his (admittedly scarce) free time. But comic book heroes were just that- comic book heroes. They had no business being in reality.
In reality, there were these things called laws. The justice system existed for a reason, as did police officers like Castiel. Due process had to be followed, safeguards taken. The wheels of justice turned slowly, and there was no denying that sometimes real criminals escaped, but that didn’t give anyone a license to go out there and start dishing out their own version of justice. The law was the law, and no one should be above it, no matter how good their intentions.
So yeah, Castiel wasn’t exactly Hunter’s greatest fan. It also didn’t help that Castiel’s superiors all expected results from him ASAP, and they were constantly haranguing him about it.
Even the mayor had taken a personal interest in this case. Castiel had been invited to a few lunches with her, in which she had told him to call her ‘Naomi’ in a very polite but nevertheless terrifyingly chilling way, and Castiel had been helpless to do anything but comply. Those lunches had been awkward, stilted affairs that mostly consisted of Castiel picking listlessly at his food as Naomi smiled at him and asked, very politely and very pointedly, when they could expect to see the vigilante behind bars at last.
It wasn’t that Castiel wasn’t trying.
Not to blow his own trumpet, but Castiel had a track record that was frankly astonishing. He wasn’t called the rising star of the MCPD for nothing. It had been that fame that landed him with the dubious honor of being assigned as lead detective of the task force dedicated to catching the vigilante. In the long history of his career as a detective, Castiel had never had a single failure in cracking a case, and he was determined that this would not be the first. He had a reputation to uphold.
Yet, a full three months into the job and Castiel had nothing to show for his progress except for a few glimpses of the vigilante’s absurdly fine leather-clad ass as it rapidly ascended into the night sky, a more than slightly bruised ego, and a cork board full of newspaper articles, red string, and grainy photos of the vigilante’s back view that his partner, Sam, liked to jokingly refer to as his ‘Vigilante Ass Wall-Shrine’.
(Sam also liked to say that Castiel had an ‘unhealthy obsession’ with Hunter. It was, of course, complete and utter nonsense.)
Castiel was staring at his evidence board with narrowed eyes, face scrunched up in intense concentration, when he heard the knock on his door.
Castiel turned around, mouth already open to snap at the unfortunate fool who had dared to come bother him, because damn it, he was busy. But the scowl immediately dropped off his face when he saw who it was.
“Oh,” he said, “Hello, Dean.”
“Hey, Cas, how’s my favorite workaholic?” Dean grinned at him with that mix of exasperated fondness that he always reserved for Castiel, and before Castiel knew it, a small smile had somehow snuck its way onto his lips.
Suddenly, his terrible day had just become a lot less terrible.
Dean casually popped himself onto Castiel’s desk, where he sat, legs swinging— an action that would have been a death sentence for anyone else, but which Castiel found strangely endearing when it came to Dean. “Sam says you haven’t moved for hours. Just been standing here staring at the ass shrine all day.”
Castiel shot Dean a half-hearted glare. “Don’t call it an— It’s an evidence board.” He let out a small huff of annoyance. “What is it with you Winchesters and ridiculous nicknames?”
Dean beamed at him sunnily. “Shut up. You love it, Cas, and you know it.”
Castiel grinned crookedly back at him. “So what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be at the garage now?”
“Bobby let me off my shift an hour early. He’s awesome like that. Thought I’d pop by, check on Metro City’s Finest. My favorite detective’s been working so hard to keep this city safe from nasty vigilantes, I was afraid he was gonna forget to eat and starve to death. So I brought him some lunch.”
Grinning, Dean held up a paper bag, and the heavenly aroma of grease and saturated fats hit Castiel’s nose like a shot of concentrated bliss.
“Double Cheese Sliders Combo Meal, special delivery from White Castle to the sexiest policeman in MCPD.” Dean’s grin was possibly even cheesier than the burgers he’d brought Castiel, but Castiel loved it to bits.
“Aww, that’s so sweet of you, Dean,” Castiel said, smiling fondly at Dean as he reached out to take the bag. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”
Smirking, Dean held the bag out of reach from Castiel. “Ah ah ah,” he tutted as he waved a finger at Castiel. He grinned at Castiel’s cheated expression, green eyes bright with mischief. “What? You thought these are for you? They’re for Sam, you giant doof.”
Castiel, the most infamously stone-cold detective on the Metro City police force, gave Dean a pout that would have sent his colleagues into cardiac arrest had any of them been around to witness it. He batted at Dean until, laughing, Dean finally handed the bag over.
Grinning, Castiel tucked into his favorite burgers and closed one eye when Dean stole a few of his fries.
As Castiel ate, Dean strolled around idly, popping fries in his mouth. Eventually, he came to a stop in front of Castiel’s evidence board. His gaze lingered briefly upon the newspaper articles before he leaned forward to examine the board more closely.
When Dean let out a low, impressed wolf-whistle, Castiel immediately knew exactly what it was that had caught Dean’s attention. It was one of the clearer shots they had managed to get of the vigilante before he disappeared off into the night.
It wasn’t particularly useful as a resource for deducing the vigilante’s identity. However, should anyone be so inclined, it provided a very detailed and illuminating resource on the specifics of how black leather could finely accentuate what looked to be an already extremely well-defined ass.
Not that Castiel had ever been inclined to examine that piece of evidence in that way. At all.
“Should I be getting worried about this?” Dean said as he turned around to look at Castiel, one eyebrow raised impishly. “All that black leather. Dammmnn. It sure doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?”
He winked.
Castiel flushed, making Dean chuckle. “Relax, Cas. I’m not jealous.” He flashed Castiel a sly, teasing grin. “Though, I must admit, I’m half-tempted to hunt down this Hunter fellow myself for keeping my boyfriend away from me.”
Dean’s grin made it obvious he was just making a joke. But still, Castiel was hit with a pang of sudden guilt that he had been neglecting Dean lately. What with the late night stake-outs and the number of hours he spent in the office scouring for leads and filling in paperwork, he hardly had time to see his boyfriend. No wonder Dean had decided to visit Castiel at the police station. It was probably the only place Castiel spent much time in these days.
Castiel opened his mouth to apologize, but Dean fended him off with one nonchalantly waved hand. “No, no, it’s okay, Cas. I was just kidding. I know you’re under a lot of pressure to catch this guy.”
He reached out to nab another one of Castiel’s fries with a cheeky grin, and Castiel felt his frown melting away in the face of Dean’s brilliant smile. He never could stay unhappy for long when Dean was around.
“So how’s the search going?” Dean asked before popping the fry into his mouth and chewing. “Any new leads?”
Castiel couldn’t help but let out a little sigh. “Nothing, as usual. It’s been three months and still… nothing.”
Castiel stared glumly down at his half-eaten cheese slider, but Dean, as always, did not allow Castiel to mope around in sullen misery.
“Chin up, Cas,” he said, “You’ll catch this masked freak sooner or later.” He flashed Castiel a brilliant grin. “After all, you’re the best damn detective in the whole county. If anyone can catch this guy, it’s you.”
Nudging Castiel, he asked, a sly look in his eyes, “Anyway. Still want that burger?”
Castiel’s lips lifted into an answering grin. “Get your own, you pig,” he said before taking a huge bite of the burger, humming contentedly as he chewed.
“You’re the pig.” Smirking, Dean reached out to wipe at Castiel’s chin, where the burger sauce had smeared all over his skin. “You eat like a toddler when it comes to burgers. Seriously. Look at this. You’re like a baby in a trench coat.”
Castiel grinned and took another big bite of his burger just to spite Dean, getting the sauce everywhere. “Oops. I think I need someone to help me clean that off,” he told Dean, tone coy.
Dean laughed. His grin was mischievous as he leaned over to lick the sauce off Castiel’s mouth before kissing him. Castiel was so glad he had his own private office.
He was even gladder for his private office a moment later when Dean walked over and tugged the blinds closed before sinking to his knees, a devious smirk on his face. “I’ll make this a quick one,” he promised with a wink, “Don’t wanna waste too much of your valuable, taxpayer-funded time.”
As Dean had promised, it was over rather embarrassingly quick. All too soon, Castiel was slumped, sated and jelly-limbed, in his chair. Dean stole a napkin from the burger bag to dab at his mouth faux-delicately, smirking pointedly all the while, before tossing it into Castiel’s wastepaper bin.
“Gotta go now, Cas,” he announced. He chuckled at Castiel’s badly concealed dismay and his ensuing earnest attempt at puppy dog eyes. “Much as I’d love to stay, you’ve got a vigilante to catch.”
A wink and a quick kiss and then he was gone. Castiel sighed wistfully. Hunter was about the last thing on his mind right now.
When his phone rang, barely five minutes after Dean left, Castiel was half hoping it was Dean. Castiel had a rather foggy notion that there was such a thing as a ‘booty call’. He had a vague inkling that it had something to do with sexy times. Was that it? Maybe this was a booty call from Dean. Smiling to himself, he picked up.
However, he jolted up in his chair, ramrod straight when he realized it was the police chief on the line.
“Castiel,” Zachariah said, “Get your team ready. We’ve got a tip-off for tonight. It’s Hunter.”
So much for that booty call.