WAVES [ dean x cas ]

Friggin' Consultant

The crowd is screaming and Dean feels overwhelmed. He feels anxious and grips at the inside of his coat, picking away at the fabric there. His heart is racing and he feels butterflies. He shouldn't've let Sam convince him to go fucking Times Square but he went anyway because, hey, it's once in a lifetime.

They're at 30 seconds and Dean's about to fucking flip out and have a panic attack right then and there when Dean feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to see the brightest face he'd ever seen. Suddenly the voices are drowned out and Dean can only focus on the man in front of him.

"You okay there?" the man asks, and Dean feels safe. He nods and glances around to find the man's girlfriend or wife, surely he must have one, he's hot. But there is nobody paying attention to the man.

"I'm alone," the man jokingly says. He bites his lip and doesn't let go of Dean's shoulder and suddenly Dean's very aware that the people around him are chanting "5, 4, 3, 2..." and Dean mumbles a quick Ah, what the hell, before he goes in and kisses the man like there's no tomorrow and confetti flies and music plays but all Dean is focused on is the man's rough hands on his cheeks and the man's stubble against his.

The kiss, sadly, ends, and the man, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, smiles at Dean before disappearing into the crowd, and Dean is left speechless.

•••

Two weeks pass. Two weeks of sulking and anxiety and not moving and Netflix.

"He really gotcha hooked, Dean," Sam says one day, plopping down next to Dean, who is on season 2 of Breaking Bad and is wearing a zebra print Snuggie.

"Mhm," Dean says, watching the show intently. Sam suddenly turns the TV off and throws the remote at Dean. "The hell?" Dean asks. Sam frowns at him.

"Jess invited us to a wedding a month ago and you still haven't gone out at gotten anything to wear," Sam says. Dean rolls his eyes.

"I'll do it tomorrow," he lies.

"Dean, the wedding is tomorrow."

And that's how Dean ends up at some stuck up store filled with stuck up clothes. He walks up to the counter and smirks down at the short employee. "I need something to wear to a wedding," he says. "Whatcha got?" The short man rolls his eyes and stares at Dean.

"Do I look like a friggin' consultant to you?" he asks. Dean clenches his jaw.

"Do you wanna look like a friggin' consultant?" Dean immediately goes red at his bad comeback and rubs his chin, where he is almost showing a beard. He hasn't shaved in a few days. The short man snickers and calls out, "Castiel! Ya gotta come help some Ken doll out here," and Dean relaxes in relief that somebody's coming to help him and then —

Oh, fuck. Dean thinks it and can see it in the other man's eyes; the fucking blue eyes from New Year's Eve. "Hi," Dean croaks out as the man - Castiel - walks over to him.

"Uh, what event?" the man asks, and Dean hears his voice waver.

"Wedding. I'm a guest at a wedding," he says. Castiel nods and begins to walk through the store and Dean follows, staring at his ass.

"Here," Cas says, stopping in front of a rack of jackets, pants, dress shirts and ties. Dean begins to search through them, ignoring Castiel's (hot) stare.

"Got any suggestions?" Dean asks. Castiel frowns and grabs Dean's wrist, bringing it off the rack and turning the man toward him.

"With your eyes, I'd go with a navy blue suit. No tie. And a white dress shirt. Undo the first couple buttons – it'll show off your..." Castiel hungrily looks Dean up and down. "Features."

And that's how Dean ended up pressed against the wall of a dressing room, his hands on Castiel's tie, Castiel's hands down his pants, and their lips on each others.

"Castiel, Cas, Cas," Dean murmurs against Castiel's lips as he slips one - two fingers beneath the waistband of Dean's boxers and Cas kisses him roughly and his hand almost around Dean's cock and then –

Cas' phone rings.

"Shit," Castiel mumbles, pulling back. He silences the phone but looks apologetically at Dean.

"I've gotta run," he says. Dean nods and breathes out heavily. He then smirks a little at Cas' messy hair and crooked tie and fixes it for him lovingly, pecking him on the lips.

"I'll buy what you said," he says, running his hands through Cas' hair, and the blue eyed man smiles. "If," Dean then says. "You come as my plus one tomorrow." Castiel smiles.

"Absolutely. You can get my number from Gabe. Call me tomorrow morning."

So Dean buys the suit and dress shirt and get's Castiel's number from Gabe, and later the next night when Cas fucks him, he thanks the suit, because, as Cas had growled into his ear during the reception multiple times, it makes is ass look great.

And you can guess what Dean wore on their wedding day:

A navy blue suit. No tie. And a white dress shirt with a few buttons undone.