Ten Times I Said I Love You. One Time I Didn't.

I Don't Know You.

Dean Winchester:

I just got to New York last Friday. I came to get away from it all. The entirety of my life. Every. Fucking. Bit. Things have been different but not too different. At least I have the choice in selling my body...but let's not think about that right now. I need a place to stay. Even if I'm making money at night, it's still not enough to cover a hotel room every night and food on top of it. So, I've been sleeping in some alley ways. And the local park. It gets real dark by the time I'm done my shift at the local 'Fantasy Heaven' where I work. I come out at 3, 4, sometimes 5 in the morning and I crash for 3, 4, 5 hours until it's too bright and someone might see me. Then I wander. For the most part people just ignore me, I look like any other lost kid on the busy streets. I got jumped twice the first day I got here. I didn't know that a gang could 'own' an entire street. My mistake. Today I woke up and went to the library. I gave them a fake address and they gave me a library card. I started looking for places for rent in the area. I sent a few emails to ads on Kijiji, and then I logged off and left.

Dean walked out of the library and into the sun, hitting his dampened clothes just right. He walked down the street, ignoring the occasional stares he got. He tried to convince himself that no one noticed him, but how could you not? He was a young guy, attractive in a way that could be described as pretty, covered in mud and dirt stains, with black eyeliner smeared under his eyes from work. He was a mess on sneakers. He came here for a better life, and he was going to do his best to make the most of this. Nothing would be as bad as where he came from. Nothing.

Castiel Novak:

I was smoking on my porch and watching groups of kids walk by my house on their ways to school, avoiding looking at me. Their parents must have told them to stay away. I don't blame them. I've been thinking that I need to do better these days. I do good, but I do more bad. I gotta even things out somehow. That was why I posted some ads on kijiji of a couple of my properties. I figured I can't do anything that'll make me look soft. I can do something like this though, and gain some profit on top of doing the good deed of housing some people. I went in to my computer after a couple minutes of soaking up the sun and opened my email. I had a few messages about my places. Most of the messages were asking if I could guarantee the house for more than a month at a time. I told them I couldn't. They don't know it, but if I ever need a hideout, I have to go back to one of those houses. So I can't have then rented on contract for more than a month at a time. One email caught my attention from a DW_Impala67@gmail.com. It read:

Hey, I'm new to the area, just getting settled here as of last week. I could really use a place to stay. I don't have rent money to pay at the start of this month, but if you'd be willing to wait till the end of the month, I can pay you in full then. I don't have a number you can contact me at, but if you respond to this, I'll get back to you within a day or two. Thanks for considering me as your new tenant.

Dean.

What kind of idiot moves to New York without a place to stay? This idiot.

Castiel promptly responded to the email. He was quick and to the point.

Hi Dean, I can meet with you Thursday or Friday morning and we can discuss your situation further. If I feel as though you are trustworthy, I'll hand you the keys and give you a tour. Let me know.

C.

He hit send and left the house. Hours went by and he'd gotten together with some 'friends'. Most of them were just people he drank with and ordered around when needed. Tonight they were off to the local strip club, Fantasy heaven. They walked in as a large group of 8 men, and people stepped aside to let them through. A few of the men wandered off, but two of them always stayed with Castiel. His 'body guards' per say. Everyone knew to stay away from these guys. If you were looking for some type of hook-up, maybe go say hi. But even that would be risky. Their leader, Castiel, ordered a drink and walked to the front line of tables in front of a stage. He sat down and watched as someone new got up and walked to a pole. He looked young, had blond hair, and by god- he sucked at pole dancing.

Dean Winchester:

I got to work around 8:30 and started waiting tables. I do a little bit of everything here. Sometimes I'm up on stage, sometimes I'm walking around delivering drinks, and sometimes I just sit behind the bar and make small talk with people who wanna get in my pants. And by pants, I mean the jean short shorts they make me wear and call a 'uniform'. Sometimes I'm just put in boxers and told to 'look appealing', whatever that means. I hate it here. But I don't have any experience anywhere but at another strip club in Orlando and this place pays me every night. It's the easiest way to get by right now for me. At 10:00 I get up on a stage and walk to a pole in the middle of it. I absolutely suck at pole dancing. But the manager made it clear that I didn't have a choice when he hired me. So I'm walking around this dumb pole, trying to look like I don't have a stick up my ass, and avoiding the stares of everyone who decided I get to be their late-night entertainment. I look over and catch a glimpse of a guy with messy dark brown hair staring at me and tilting his head like he's confused. It threw me off so bad I stopped and squinted back at him.

"Is everything okay sir?"

"You're terrible at that. Why did they let you on stage?"

When I say my face got red...It got burning hot. My ears were probably glowing at this point. Fuck this guy. I put on my best 'I don't care' face and then smiled almost sarcastically.

"I don't know, Sir. But if you have a different preference, there are 7 other platforms with different dancers you can go see in either direction. And if you have a complaint, any of the bartenders can give you contact information to the manager. Otherwise, shut your trap."

The surrounding area filled with silence and murmurs. It was obvious the person on stage didn't have a clue who he was talking to. He stood glaring at the man before he went back to the same terrible performance he'd been giving the last 6 nights in a row. The dark-haired man stared at the boy on stage for a few minutes and watched before he got up, tossed a $20-dollar bill on the stage, and walked away. Dean worked that night until 2 am. Before he left, he used the boss's computer to check his emails. The house guy answered him. Great. He decided to message the guy back before he left for the night.

Nice to meet you too. That works for me. Thursday morning at 8 I can meet you at the Dovingdale Park if that's okay? Thanks for getting back to me.

Dean.

He received a response by the next morning when he was checking his emails again at the library.

That is fine with me. I'll meet you by the bridge Thursday morning at 8. See you then.

C.