Chapter Text
The first time that they met, neither of them knew that their fates would be intricately twined together. Their TiMERs didn't match; how were they supposed to know?
Castiel had come straight from work to the club that Balthazar had wanted to meet at; he was still dressed in work-appropirate attire – black slacks, white button-up shirt, black sports coat, and blue tie. He brought his beige trench coat inside with him just in case it was cooler when he left. Without looking into his rear-view mirror after he found a spot in the packed parking lot, Castiel dug his fingers into his scalp, combing through and tugging on his dark hair to disturb his usual slicked-over look that kept his appearance professional at work. He also loosened his tie and undid the top button holding the collar of his shirt tight around his neck.
Inside the club was noisy and cramped full, housing more bodies inside than cars outside. Castiel sort of hated coming here, but Balthazar had insisted on one last night at this place before he would start hanging with him and Gabriel at some place a bit more low-key. This club wasn't as bad as it could have been since Balthazar was always able to get a private VIP section, and it was a ways from the huge and flashy dance floor and much quieter. Although it was further from the bar as well, it came with the perk of servers that shuttled back and forth. To get in, he had only to mention 'Balthazar' and didn't have to wait in the minimum hour-long line outside.
The man that Castiel would take home that night didn't have that luxury and was still in line outside.
Dean was not too pleased about that. He had been invited by Bela to join her at this club. She was hot, so who was he to argue? Problem was, she wasn't even there yet. There were still at least ten more people in front of him, the same ten or so men that hadn't gotten into the club for the last fifteen minutes. That was on top of the additional hour before that that he had been in the line that wrapped around the side of the building. It was a touch too cold to be standing out here for that long, and he hadn't thought to put on a cap to cover his now red ears.
Money had started to flash at the sharply-dressed bouncer and two men were granted admission. Dean heard a few more monetary offers, but the bouncer asked for double – one more man got in for $80. Yikes.
“Dean, there you are!” Bela had finally showed, all done up in a slinky black dress that looked fantastic on her curves. “You made it all the way up here? I thought for sure we'd be further back in line.”
He didn't bother to bring up the fact that he had been waiting for over an hour, but in that dress with a dark red stain on her lips, Dean didn't want to argue. When Bela slipped under the rope, the man behind him didn't seem to want to argue either. “Where's your jacket?” he asked her, pulling off his own leather jacket and slipping it over her shoulders.
She shuffled close to Dean, and shrugged. “I wanted to show off this dress.”
“You look great,” Dean told her with a flash of a smile, “but cold.”
“My friends and I got in pretty quickly, so I wasn't expecting too long of a wait outside. I hope you like it here,” she said, gazing at the doors. Bela rattled off some tale about the last time that she was here with friends. Dean was only half-listening as one more man was ushered through by the bouncer.
A few more people left the building and a few more went inside with a simple wave, bypassing the line – the latter were all women. It was only a matter of a few minutes before the bouncer looked down the line, caught sight of Bela, pointed at her, and waved her over. She took Dean's hand excitedly and dragged them through the small group of guys still ahead of them.
“Can't let the lady freeze out here,” the bouncer smoothly said. He gave Dean a once-over behind her. “This man with you then?”
“Yes,” Bela stated, placing a hand on the jacket over her shoulders. “He gave me his jacket to keep me warm.”
The bouncer's gaze changed, a not-so-subtle smirk forming on his face. “A gentleman, eh? Have fun this evening, pretty things.”
Bela gave a happy squeak and tugged on Dean's arm who was trying to process in his head what the man's facial expression had been about – he had also said 'pretty things', as in plural. Had he just called Dean pretty?
Damn, it was loud in the club, both in sound and sight. The music dropped the beat with tons of writhing bodies on the massive dance floor. The excited bustle of people glowed and shined in the patterns of light streaking around from the ceiling. Good thing he didn't have an issue with hypersensitivity – no doubt that this place was seizure-inducing.
Dean followed Bela to the bar, and he initially tried to order a beer, but Bela insisted on shots. They weren't the only ones with that idea as Dean caught sight of a man with a glow-in-the-dark green shirt collect a bottle of Wild Turkey and another of Bacardi to put on a tray with shot glasses before he headed towards the far back of the club.
Castiel saw the shot glasses on the tray as the server came to their table, and he gave Balthazar a pointed groan.
“What?” Balthazar asked as he stood to accept the alcohol and glasses. He tucked a generous tip into the server's back pants pocket. “I have never once seen you get out on that dance floor, and it is my last night here with you. Get drunk with us, and let's go make fools of ourselves.”
Castiel rolled his eyes but sat down and nodded at Gabriel and Kali who were already situated on the black leather bench seating. They had their hands clasped together between them on top of the table, and Castiel could see Kali's TiMER on her right wrist reflecting the lights that were bounced all the way over here from the dance floor. He couldn't see what her TiMER showed from this angle, but he knew it had zeroes all the way across; Gabriel's TiMER on his wrist below the table matched Kali's, of course.
“What is with your hair?” Balthazar leaned over the table and ran his fingers through Castiel's hair at a side angle. “There, that's better,” he said as he sat back in his seat, admiring his handiwork. “More sexy bedhead, less sexed-up cockatoo.”
Despite his reluctance to partake in Balthazar's celebratory final club night with them, Castiel obliged him anyway, downing two shots quickly with his friend. Gabriel and Kali followed with two consecutive shots as well. After swiping his mouth with his sleeve after the fifth shot some time later, Castiel admitted, “I think I am beginning to feel something.”
Balthazar 'whooped!' and poured him another shot. Castiel didn't drink often but had learned early on that he had a surprisingly high tolerance for alcohol. Balthazar seemed determined to make tonight the exception as he kept pouring into Castiel's glass each time it was emptied.
Eventually, after one-too-many, Castiel begrudgingly allowed Balthazar to drag him halfway across the club to the mass of gyrating bodies in the pit. Rainbows of light swathed over the flailing limbs, and Castiel's inebriated state-of-mind thought that this is what a pile of souls trapped in Hell might look like. It was both eery and beautiful.
And Balthazar was looking kind of hot tonight. Castiel hadn't tapped that in over a year, but maybe if the other man was up for some extracurricular activities tonight...
Gabriel and Kali had already rushed ahead of them, throwing themselves into a group of currently pink-lighted bodies that parted and then swallowed them up as if they belonged there. Balthazar was a true natural that found the first body that was dancing alone and plastered himself to her back without so much as a questioning glance from the woman.
Castiel had no such talent for clubs and their dancing. As he stumbled forward towards Balthazar, he bumped into another man at the edge of the dance floor.
Dean was well and thoroughly smashed after the number of shots that Bela had shoved down his throat. The body shots he'd done off of her had been hella fun though. He needed no coaxing at all to join her in the lowered dance floor, but he had to catch himself when he nearly tripped over his own foot and shouldered some guy. He mumbled a blurred, “Sorry” before he was weaving into the crowd with his little black dressed lady.
Dancing down there was hell though. There were just so many people, and ick, if Dean was rubbed up against by one more sweaty limb, he was going to start throwing punches. And there it was, a rather thick and hairy arm grazed across his neck. He groaned and shouted loudly at Bela that he was going to go hit the head. She gave him a small wave, but went back to dancing as if he had never left.
The man that Dean would follow home that night wasn't having any luck at all with dancing. He was so far out of his element that even trying to join Balthazar and the nameless woman just wasn't working out. Even when another woman in a slinky dark dress – it could be any color under these lights – sidled up to their group, both women were solely focused on Balthazar. Castiel just felt like a klutzy idiot, and he finally gave up to get a glass of water at the bar.
He sat close enough to the dancing area that he watched Balthazar and the two women. The man was so fluid and charming, angling himself and chatting loudly so neither of the girls would feel neglected. Castiel had barely turned away and looked back when he thought he saw an altercation between his friend and another man. He caught himself on his seat, ready to react, but no fists were flying. The man seemed to argue with the second woman before she plastered herself back to Balthazar. Castiel watched him raise his hands in defeat and stomp up the stairs to the bar.
Castiel stood up from his long-legged stool and went to meet the man that unbeknownst to him would be the greatest love of his life.