Chapter Text
Dean sighed as he looked at his computer screen. He hadn’t expected that trying to find a new roommate would be so frustrating. Sam was moving out at the end of the week, off to Stanford. Dean was proud of him, sure, but he’d been living with the kid his whole life. Even after their dad drunkenly wrapped his truck around a tree when Dean had just turned 20, he and Sam stuck together, living in a small apartment Dean had bought with money from his dad’s will (not that there was a lot to work with, all John Winchester had to his name was a few thousand dollars and the Impala). That’s where they’d been for the past two years, but Sam was college-bound now, and Dean couldn’t afford the rent on his own mechanic’s salary. Bobby was a great boss, fair, and like a second father to Dean, but he wasn’t exactly paying Dean the big bucks.
He refreshed the page again, losing hope, but refreshed it again moments later. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table staring at his ad on Craigslist, refreshing that stupid page and hoping for a reply for an hour now.
“Y’know,” Sam started as he walked out of his room, a stack of boxes filling his arms, “Rita Mae Brown said, ‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different outcome.’ I thought I told you you should start looking for a new roommate weeks ago, man,” he scolded. Dean rolled his eyes.
“Whatever, bitch. It’s only a matter of time before people are practically kicking down the door,” he said. He hoped.
“Whatever you say, jerk,” Sam shrugged, looking skeptical, before he retreated back into his room to continue packing. All Dean could do was hope someone would reply to his ad soon.
Becoming frustrated and admittedly feeling a little rejected, Dean checked his watch. How long had he been at this anyway?
“Fuuuck this,” he grumbled. Okay. He was gonna refresh the site one more time, and if there was still nothing there, he was shutting the damn laptop. He had a shift at Bobby’s in an hour anyway.
Clicking the refresh button a little harder than probably necessary, he dropped his head to let out a deep sigh, preparing for the impending disappointment. He lifted his head, opening only one eye to squint it at the screen as if it would lessen the impact of the nothing he expected to find. Instead, his heart jumped as he saw a message on his screen that hadn’t been there before. He pulled his laptop closer to him as he read.
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>>Hello, Dean.
My name is Castiel. I am interested in the offer you have placed for the room in your apartment. I can assure you that I will be a pleasant roommate. I clean up after myself, I’m quiet, and I keep to myself more often than not (I have been told that my “people skills” are “rusty”). For the sake of full transparency, I am useless in a kitchen, so I hope you are not looking for a home chef.
I had one question about your ad whilst reading. You said that the rent in full was $1,225.00, yet you said that you would only charge $525.00. May I ask why your asking price is low? Are there any problems I should be aware of? I am looking to move as soon as possible, so when is the soonest I can move in, assuming you receive no other or better offers?
Cordially, Castiel.
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Dean furrowed his brow as he read, smiling with a mixture of confusion and humor. This guy texted like C3PO. All Dean’s ad had said was:
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“>>Roommate Needed ASAP!
Address: 2839 N Asdall Ln, Lawrence, KS 6604
Total Rent: $1225
Asking price for housing: $500
Just don’t be an ass, or vegan and we should be fine.”
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Yeah, hardly Shakespearian. Regardless, Dean clicked on the “reply” button, already beginning to type out a response.
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>>Hey man! No worries about the cooking; I like to be in charge of my kitchen anyway. As for the rent, my little bro was living with me for a discount, and I’m on a time crunch to find a replacement for him. Figured the discount would be a good incentive since my checkbook is already used to it anyway. That said, Sammy’s movin out on Sunday, so any time after that, move on in! Rent’s due on the first of each month. If you have any more questions, my number is 886-907-3235.
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He sent the message, and, with a renewed pep in his step, he shut the laptop and stood up. Thank god, he’d been starting to lose hope. He let out a sigh, one of relief instead of frustration this time, and walked down the hallway toward his room. On his way, he banged on Sam’s door.
“Found myself a roommate, Sammy! What’s that about insanity?”
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The rest of the week passed pretty quickly. Time went by without Dean even realizing, too busy helping Sam pack and prepare for college and his move, working at the auto shop, and preparing to have Castiel move in. They’d been exchanging text messages, discussing the move. Castiel had agreed to move in on Sunday after Sam was gone. Soon enough, it was Saturday, and Dean was helping Sam pack all his boxes into his truck. Sam didn’t own a ton, mostly textbooks, clothes, his hair products, and a few pictures. Once everything was seated and secured in the bed of the truck, Dean patted his brother on the back and yanked him in for a hug.
“‘M proud of ya, Sammy. I’m a phone call away if you need anything. It’s only a day and a half drive.” He felt Sam laugh in his arms.
“Dean, I’m 18 years old, I can manage college. Most people my age do,” he assured. Dean couldn’t help but be a little protective. He’d been looking after Sam for as long as he could remember. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a little hard to let the kid go off to go do bigger things, but at the same time, he was truly proud. Sam deserved this. Worked like hell for it and worked like hell to get away from the life their dad had left them with. Dean was fine with that life, but Sam? He was always meant to do more.
He watched his brother climb into the truck, turn it on, and wave one more time before he drove off. Dean would never admit that his eyes stung a little. He turned on his heel and walked back into the house. He still had some preparations to make before Castiel showed up the next day.
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Dean dropped a hamburger patty onto a pan, moving it around a little as he listened to the sizzle. He hummed “Cherry Pie” by Warrant as he cooked. Damn. He could go for some pie. Maybe the next day, he’d pick one up. Could be a nice “Hey, thanks for agreeing to live with me” offering.
A shrill, quick series of knocks at the door coaxed him out of his train of thought. He pressed the burger into the pan lightly and turned down the heat before stepping over the door. He swung it open.
“Hey, whats-” his words died on his tongue as he took in the sight before him. It was a man. Shorter than him, but only by an inch or two. He looked broad, but it was hard to really tell, with the way an oversized trench coat hung from his shoulders. He had a mess of dark hair, strong features, and some of the most striking blue eyes he’d ever seen. They were wide with what looked like nerves. He cleared his throat as awe turned into confusion. “Uh. Hey, can I help you?”
“Hello, Dean,” the man said simply, if a little breathless. Dean furrowed his brows. Okay, how the hell did this guy know his name? His unasked question was answered a moment later when the man said, “Castiel,” sticking a hand out for Dean to shake. The more Dean took the man in, the more distraught he looked.
“Hey, man, you uh- you said you wouldn’t be here ‘til tomorrow. Everything okay?” He leaned against the doorframe.
Suddenly, Castiel looked sheepish. “I apologise. Something came up, and I-” He paused. Sighed. “Can I move in early?” He sounded desperate.
“I mean, sure, I guess. Sammy’s already out.” he stepped out of the doorway. “Come on in, I was making dinner, I can throw another burger in the pan.” He followed Castiel in and stepped past him so he could lead the way to the kitchen. Questions sprouted in his mind, jumping around, wanting to be asked, but the guy seemed spooked, and Dean didn’t wanna stress him out more.
“Thank you, Dean. Your kindness is appreciated greatly,” Castiel says.
“‘Course, man, you’re my roommate now, after all,” he says with a chuckle, turning around to face the counter. He grabbed a chunk of ground beef from the package and smushed it into shape before throwing it on the pan. He turned the heat back up and, after a moment, flipped the first patty over. “Want Cheese?” Castiel nodded, so he grabbed a Kraft single from the package on the counter and unwrapped it, placing it on top of the patty as the underside cooked.
“So, why the early arrival, Cas?” Dean asked, the nickname rolling off the tongue. Castiel avoided his gaze.
“I had to move out of my old home in a hurry,” he said simply. He wouldn’t meet Dean’s eye when he turned around. Dean didn’t wanna pry any further.
“Well, after we eat, I can help you unload your stuff,” Dean said, turning back around to flip the other burger. He put a slice of cheese on that one, too, and took the first burger off the pan, sliding it onto a plate with a paper towel on it. He stepped to the fridge and got out lettuce, some tomatoes he’d sliced for a sandwich he’d had for lunch, and ketchup. He set the hands full onto the counter in front of Cas and then handed him the bag of hamburger buns. “Go crazy, man,” he said and turned around to finish the other burger.
“Dean, you made this for yourself, you don’t have to-”
“Nah, man. I woulda had to keep cooking anyway, least this way they’re both served hot.” He smiled back at Cas, who looked like he was about to speak up again but didn’t actually say anything. He took a bite of the burger, and Dean had to look away sheepishly as Cas’s eyes rolled back in his head. He knew he made a mean burger, but he never thought they were that good.
After finishing their dinners in relative silence, the two went out to unload all of Castiel’s things. They chatted while they hauled boxes into the house, about what Cas did for a living (he was working as an editor for a local writer), his plans (become a published author), his family (which he was incredibly vague about, Dean noticed). Dean told him about his brother, his dad, in few words, his job, Bobby, and his habits around the house. Cas seemed like a good guy. True to his word, he was very polite, almost awkwardly so, but Dean didn’t mind. Seemed like the guy would be a pleasant enough roommate, anyway. They finished unloading the boxes, and Dean was about to offer to help Castiel unpack when the man caught his attention with a yawn.
“I think I’ll unpack in the morning if that’s alright. It’s been a long day. I’d like to relax,” he said. Dean chuckled.
“Alright, man, whatever floats your boat. I was plannin’ on watching Tombstone tonight if you wanna join,” He says, nodding toward the comfy couch in the living room. Cas just tilted his head. “Tombstone, man! Y’know, ‘I’m yer huckleberry?’”
“You are not a huckleberry,” Cas says, squinting.
Dean can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes him. Cas only looks more confused.
“Alright, Cas, just come sit down, man. This one’s a classic; you gotta see it at least once.” He walked over to the couch and flopped down on it, grabbing the remote. After a moment, the cushions dipped as Cas sat down opposite him. He didn’t know how it was possible that Cas hadn’t seen one of the best movies ever made, but Dean sure as hell wasn’t gonna live with a guy who’d never seen Tombstone. Plus, Cas seemed like a good guy, and Dean had a good feeling about this whole new roommate situation. Maybe a change was just what he needed.