Angeles

The faint ticking of his watch was enough to drive Cas mad as he stared at his open closet. Dean was going to pick him up in less than an hour and he had no idea what to wear. He might have had a better idea if he knew where Dean was taking him, but he didn't. Were they going to a casual diner or to a fancy, expensive place? He groaned and rested his head against the door frame with an audible thud.

Cas tried to think of the last time he was this nervous before a date. It had been almost six years. Sure, Cas has been on other dates since, but none that filled his stomach with butterflies. No, the ones he'd been on were just casual guys that his overbearing brother had tried to set him up with. He hasn't even had a second date in over three years.

His phone buzzes. It's a text message from an unknown number.

From Unknown, 6:26 pm: Hey, it's Dean. I forgot to get your address earlier.

Cas smiles down at his screen as he sends Dean the address. He also takes the time to save Dean's number into his contacts.

He starts leafing through the hung shirts. Some he stops and examines for a moment, but most get discarded after the first glance. Until his eyes land on a periwinkle button down. He remembers his best friend buying it for him and making him try it on. "I knew it was perfect the moment I saw it," she had said, grinning. She's been saying ever since that it brings out his eyes. So he opts for that one.

He sheds the light blue shirt he was wearing and replaces it with the periwinkle. It's not a huge difference, but it's enough. However, he leaves his Star Wars tee on underneath. He looks down at his jeans and thinks. Do I leave these on or do I change into slacks? Or do I wear blue jeans? No. I want to be myself, and I hardly ever wear blue jeans. He eventually decides to just leave his black jeans on.

The next time he checks his watch, it's 6:48. Cas goes into the bathroom and quickly brushes his teeth. He's extra diligent with his use of mouthwash, making sure that his breath is extra fresh, just in case. He's never really been the type to kiss on the first date, but with Dean...it just feels different somehow. Almost like they've known each other for years, when they've actually only just met.

He tries to comb his hair, even though he already knows it's a lost cause. His hair has never been known for it's cooperation. He gives up when he hears a knock on the door.

He runs out to the hallway and glances through the peep hole in his door. He sees Dean, and even through a fish-eye perspective, he is stunning. Cas takes a deep breath and opens the door.

Dean is about to smile, but is left breathless when he sees Cas. The new shirt definitely made a difference.

"Hey, Cas," Dean says. "You look...wow."

"Hello, Dean. You look good as well."

Dean tries not to stare into Cas's eyes, but it's easier said that done, especially with that shirt.

"Are you alright?" Cas asks.

"Yeah, I'm...I'm great. That shirt, though..." He whistles. "You just look...incredible."

Cas feels his cheeks heat up. "Thank you. My friend Charlie got this shirt for me. She said it makes my eyes pop."

"She's not wrong," Dean chuckles. After a moment, he straightens up. "So, are you ready to go?"

"Oh, yes, just let me grab my coat." Cas reaches over and grabs his beloved trench coat from a hook by the door. He puts it on and checks to make sure his keys are in the pocket. He locks the door and closes it behind him.

Dean presses the down button for the elevator, which happened to be right outside Cas's apartment.

"So does living right next to the elevator ever get annoying?" Dean asks as the machine 'bings', letting them know the elevator car as arrived to their floor. The metal doors open.

"A little," Cas admits as they step in. "But it's not too bad." He presses the button for the ground floor.

Dean's about to say something when the elevator stops to let someone else on. An older woman with graying hair, carrying a short-haired shih-tzu, steps in and stands between Dean and Cas. The last four floors down are very awkward.

They get down to the first floor and the woman sets her dog on the ground, holding its leash, and goes down the hallway towards the back door. Dean and Cas go towards the front door.

"It's a beautiful building," Dean comments idly as they make their way to Dean's car.

"It is," Cas agrees. "And there's even an indoor pool and a tennis court out back."

"Wow. And I bet you have a hell of a view on the twelfth floor."

"It is quite nice. And on the fourth of July, we can see the fireworks displays from multiple towns."

"Now that's something I want to see."

Dean stops in front of a well-kept black car and opens the passenger's door for Cas. Cas slides onto the tan leather bench seat and buckles his seat belt while Dean goes to the driver's side. He starts the engine.

"This is a beautiful car," Cas compliments.

Dean grins. "You like cars?"

"No," Cas deadpans. "But I appreciate beauty."

Dean chuckles. "Yeah, I do, too. But, this car is my baby. She used to be my dad's, but he gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday."

"How old is it?"

"This is a '67 Chevy Impala. I don't care if she's over forty years old; she's still bad ass."

"So do I get to know where we're going?" Cas questions as Dean turns onto the highway.

Dean glances over at Cas and smirks. "Nope. It's a surprise."

"Well am I dressed appropriately?"

Dean looks over and brushes his eyes down Cas's form. "You look perfect." He turns his attention back to the road.

Cas blushes, and he looks out his window to try to conceal it. But Dean has apparently already seen, as he starts laughing.

"So, Cas, tell me about yourself," Dean says after a moment of silence.

"What would you like to know?" Cas requests.

"Anything. What's your favorite color?"

"Green. What about yours?"

Dean looks over at Cas's eyes, then down to his lips, then back up to his eyes before returning them to the road ahead. He smirks. "Blue. Your turn."

"How long have you been a musician?"

"Well, I was sixteen the first time I played. This girl was teaching me. But it just...felt right. So I saved up my money from fixing cars and bought my own from a secondhand store. The singing, I don't know. I've kinda always just sung along to my dad's classic rock."

"Wow. And the song writing?"

Dean shrugs. "It just comes to me. I can't just sit down and write a song. It has to be natural. Unfortunately, though, it doesn't happen all too often. What about you? How long you been running the book shop?"

"Since I was fourteen. Ever since the shop had opened up, I was in there almost everyday. It's always been a quiet place to read or do homework. So Chuck started letting me unpack boxes for a dollar a book. It actually added up quite quickly. When I turned sixteen, he actually hired me and I started getting paid hourly instead of just commission."

"Did you work there through college?"

"Yes, I did. I spent the school year in New Hampshire and spent my vacations here, working at the bookstore."

"But you didn't leave after?"

"No. I was making good pay and I adored Mr. Shurley. I didn't see the need to change careers."

Dean pursed his lips. "I bet you majored in English."

"Anthropology, actually."

Dean raised his eyebrows, impressed.

"Nice. Where did you go to school?"

"Dartmouth."

Dean's eyes widened. "Wow. That's...impressive."

"I suppose."

"You went to an Ivy League school and you're just working at a bookstore in Kansas? You could be rich and living in some big giant house off the coast."

"I don't need to be rich," Cas countered. "Or living in a lavish home by the sea. I like my apartment just fine."

"But-"

"It's my life, and it's my choice."

Cas says it so firmly that Dean's almost afraid.

"You're right. Sorry." Dean's voice is small and tentative, not wanting to anger Cas further.

Cas sighs. "You misunderstand me, Dean. I have everything I need. I'm happy, even without a fancy career."

"But you finished high school. You went to an Ivy League college. And you work in a bookstore? It just seems..."

"Like a waste?" Cas guesses.

"I wouldn't put it that way."

Cas doesn't say anything. He just stares forward.

"Cas, I didn't mean it like that," Dean pleads. "I just don't understand it, is all. Can we please just forget about it?"

After a moment, Cas nods. "Yes."

"Good." Dean pauses. "What's your favorite animal."

"Bees."