Chapter Text
His alarm screeched in his ears and Castiel jolted up, managing to get his feet tangled in the sheets, lose his balance, and tumble onto the hardwood floor of his bedroom all within the first thirty seconds of being awake.
“Shit shit shit, not today” he grumbled, feeling around blindly on his bedside table in search of his glasses. He finally managed to shove them onto his face and, thankfully, the whole world came into focus.
Including his alarm clock, which read 9:02am.
“Fuck. Me.”
He tried to get up again, but his feet were still tangled and he just ended up flat on his stomach. After quite the epic battle he managed to crawl away from his bed, picking up whatever bits of clothing he could get his hands on. He grabbed his camera, threw on some shoes, slung his backpack over his shoulder and was out of the house in five minutes flat.
He resisted the urge to sprint to campus, but in all honesty the speed walking he was doing now probably looked more stupid than running. He mentally chided himself several times for choosing an apartment so far away from the photography classrooms, something he was sure Anna would love to goad him over.
So, of course, his phone started to vibrate in his back pocket.
“Speak of the devil,” he panted, glancing around before jogging across the street.
“He lives! Where were you this morning sleepyhead?”
“I might have slept through my alarm.”
Anna’s light laughter floated through the phone, like a little bell ringing.
“Castiel when are you going to invest in a new clock? One that actually knows what time it is?”
“I’ll put it on the list of things that I can’t afford to buy.”
“Well hurry your little butt up, or everybody is gonna be taken.”
Shit. He thought to himself. He needed a good one this time. Somebody hopefully a little bit easier to work with.
“Did you get somebody good?"
He was still about a block away, but his lungs felt like they were on fire and he could feel his thin t-shirt sticking to him in the late autumn heat. He definitely needed to consider moving.
“I have impeccable taste, of course I did. A delicious little doe-eyed freshman with just the prettiest olive skin. I couldn’t resist.”
“Preying on the underclassmen again, I see.”
“Your jealous side is showing, sweetie. Good luck, call me after.”
He hung up just as he reached the front stairs, taking them two at a time. He flung open the door to the small classroom, only to come face to face with his grouchy-looking professor.
“Mr. Novak,” she drawled, a pinched-looking grin spreading across her face. “How nice of you to finally join us. I do believe 8:30 is the start time for this course, is it not?”
“I know, I am so sorry, I overslept and—“
“Clearly five weeks is not enough time for you to learn your class schedule. Might I suggest writing it down, to prevent future issues?”
Castiel swallowed his retort, her condescending tone making his cheeks burn.
“Of course, Professor. Are there any—“
“I’m afraid all of the volunteers have been accounted for. You’ll have to seek one out on your own time.”
She sniffed disdainfully at him, brushing past him to walk down the hallway towards her office. Her high heels clicked with each step, and Castiel had to resist the urge to flinch.
Shit. He thought, for about the billionth time that day. Picking a model out of a group of volunteers was hard enough for him. Where in the hell was he supposed to find somebody on his own?
“Mr. Novak?” she called from down the hallway, her voice echoing against the cold tile and decorated walls. She paused in the middle of the hallway, barely glancing backwards in his direction. “I realize this may not be your favorite, but this is a portraiture course. I expect excellence.”
He didn’t even have a chance to respond before she took off down the hallway.
Castiel walked through the doorway into the small room, the lights turned off and only a small stream of morning sun shining in through the microscopic window. He sat down on the ground and dropped his head into his hands, not wanting to bother with the crappy desks.
Sitting there in the dark feeling bad for himself seemed, of course, like the only logical solution.
“Yo, skinny dude,” a deep voice called from behind him, making him almost jump out of his skin. “This photo 365?”
“Jesus you scared the shit out of me,” he mumbled, sliding his hands under his glasses to rub his eyes.
“Huh?”
“Nothing,” Castiel said a little bit louder, shaking his head and placing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “This was Photography 385, if that’s what you meant. What are you looking for?”
He twisted his torso to get a look at the stranger, guessing from his voice that he probably looked something like Popeye if he was a cowboy instead of a sailor.
He was very wrong.
The guy was definitely taller than him by a few inches, his build muscled but not bulky. His skin was covered in light freckles, and Castiel couldn’t help but contemplate which sort of lighting would bring them out the best. His light brown hair was shorter on the sides and a tad longer on the top, sticking up slightly enough that it might’ve been accidental.
“The portrait class, I’m a volunteer?”
“That class started at 8:30.”
The guy grinned, and Castiel was 99.99% sure that he was going to pass out.
“Guess I’m kinda late then.”
He strolled over until he was standing in front of Castiel, his heavy boots pounding with each step. Castiel stared up at him as he walked, watching the muscles in his shoulders stretch and move under his shirt. He squatted down, resting his elbows on his bent knees and bouncing just slightly on the balls of his feet.
“Dean Winchester.”
He extended a hand, and it took Castiel a couple of seconds to realize that he was expected to do the same. Up close he could see that the guy—Dean—had even more freckles on his face, scattered on his cheeks and forehead, across the bridge of his nose. And his eyes…holy shit his eyes. They were so green, so bright and full of a lifetime of experiences already. Castiel was absolutely hypnotized by them, feeling like he could just stare at them forever. He was sort of…beautiful. If that wasn’t weird to say.
“Nice shirt,” Castiel said sarcastically, immediately sorry for the comment.
“Thanks,” he responded, glancing down at his black t-shirt that read “take a picture, it’ll last longer” on the front in white block letters. “I thought it was fitting. Know where I can find a photographer around here?”
He finally, thankfully, released Castiel’s hand, leaning back to sit flat on the ground. He kept his feet propped up in front of him, his arms wrapped around his knees and his fingers wound together.
“I’m a photographer. Or, I want to be,” Castiel’s voice came out surprisingly steady, if not a little quieter than he would have liked. He used his now free hand to push his glasses up, resettling them on the proper spot on his nose.
Dean raised an eyebrow, smiling just a little bit.
“You in this class?”
“Yes.”
“You need a model?”
Castiel hesitated. He did need a model. Badly. He just, wasn’t sure he needed a model that badly. Would Dean be easy to work with? He was pretty, sure, but the pretty ones usually ended up being divas. At least with girls.
“Uh, yes,” he said, still not confident with his answer. “Have you done this sort of thing before?”
“Nah,” Dean said, scrunching up his nose and looking around the room. “Can’t be that hard though. You just tell me what to do, right?”
Well, that was a good sign at least. Maybe some fresh blood would be good.
“Okay, well, you’re hired. If you want.”
“Awesome,” Dean grinned again, tilting his head down to make eye contact again. “When do we start?”
“This afternoon? If you’re free?”
Dean glanced down at his watch for a second, and Castiel found himself hoping he would say no.
“No can do buddy, gotta get to the garage. On a double today. I’m off tomorrow around two?”
“Oh, okay. Two, then. You can meet me outside this building.”
Dean smiled at him again and then hopped up to his feet, stepping around Castiel to walk towards the door.
“Why’re you sitting on the floor, by the way?” he asked, stopping on his way to the doorway.
“Seemed logical,” Castiel said over his shoulder, not turning to face him this time. He heard Dean laugh though, and the sound made his stomach clench.
“Uh huh. And why’re you the only one here?”
Castiel sighed, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “I might’ve been running late this morning.”
Dean laughed again, louder this time.
“Well would ya look at that. We’re two peas in a pod, you and me.”
And with that he left, the sound of his boots audible all the way until he left the building. Castiel groaned and dropped his head into his hands again, wanting nothing more than to just crawl into his bed and wait out this entire semester.
When he finally got up and left the building he went straight to Anna’s place, lacking the necessary energy to make it all the way back to his own home.
“So?” she squealed as soon as she opened the door, barely even letting him inside before she started interrogating him. “Did you get somebody? Are they weird looking? Are they annoying?”
“I got somebody. Definitely not weird looking. Not sure about annoying yet.”
“What’s her name?”
“His name is Dean.”
Anna paused, a smile slowly spreading across her face.
“Oh my god. You are totally into him!”
“Anna, stop it,” Castiel sighed, flopping down on the couch in her small living room.
“Fine. Can you hook me up with him then?”
“No!” Castiel snapped, and Anna just laughed at him. She took the seat beside him on the couch, folding her legs up on the cushion.
“Told ya. Totally into him.”
“Yeah well,” he stared down at his jeans, picking at a loose string. “I definitely got the I’m super straight vibe from him so I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Anna gave him a sympathetic look, the one she knew Castiel hated.
“Want to watch Planet Earth or something?”
Castiel smiled at her, appreciative of her obvious attempt to change topics.
“Sure. But you owe me some answers too, miss. About your olive-skinned freshman?”
She grinned at him, all white teeth and fair skin and wild red hair. He wished she could just be his model, but he knew realistically the time commitment was too intense, even if it was allowed.
“His name is Ethan, and oh man he is gorgeous.”
“You are such a cougar,” Castiel laughed, poking Anna’s side with his finger.
“Am not!” she snapped, before launching into the epic love story of how she decided to settle for him after her first two choices were picked.
“Sounds romantic,” Castiel said when she was done, pushing his glasses up.
“I won’t seduce him. I’m a professional. I am, however, going to enjoy taking pictures of his pretty face for the next two weeks. When do you boys start?”
“Tomorrow,” he hummed, already knowing that Anna would want to tag along. “I’ll introduce you another day.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
The next day, he sincerely wished that he had brought Anna along. That was his first mistake. His second mistake was looking in the mirror before he left. He knew, theoretically, that his hair was always going to be a lost cause no matter what he did with it. Just, actually seeing it made him hyperaware of just how crazy it made him look. His third mistake was leaving forty minutes early when the walk only took twenty-five. That gave him fifteen whole minutes to sit on the steps of the building and just wait.
He had his nose buried in one of his monthly photography magazines when he heard Dean’s heavy boots approach. He glanced up to see him standing at the base of the stairs, hands in his pockets and a happy look on his face.
“Skinny dude, whats up?”
“I have a name you know,” Castiel sighed, slipping the magazine into his backpack and standing up.
“Yeah, one you didn’t tell me yesterday.”
“Oh. It’s Castiel. Novak.”
“Nice to meet ya, Cas,” he said, his accent peeking out when he said the “a”.
Castiel raised his eyebrows at the nickname, not sure if he liked it or not.
“Likewise. Do you drink coffee, Dean?”
“In the middle of the day? Man after my own heart,” he smiled again, and Castiel felt his cheeks heat up.
They made their way over to the campus coffee shop, managing to grab a small table towards the back.
“Right,” Castiel said when they both sat down, coffees in hand. “Some details. We’ll be spending a lot of time together over the next two weeks, so feel free to ask for time off. After this we’ll have a preliminary shoot, figure out which kinds of lighting will work best. You will be paid, hourly, by the department, no more than 20 hours per week. Sound fair?”
“Sir yes sir,” he answered, giving Castiel a slow salute. He took a sip of his coffee, and Castiel made a mental note that he was drinking it black.
“Good. So, Dean. Are you a student?”
Dean laughed a little bit, staring down at the rim of his cup.
“Nah. Just a mechanic. My brother, though. He goes here. I just picked this up as a side gig, to get some extra cash.”
Castiel nodded, pleased to know that he wouldn’t have to schedule around any lectures other than his own. He pushed his glasses up with his finger and cleared his throat quietly.
“Good. Great. Shall we get going then?”
“Lead the way.”
Castiel felt extremely awkward the entire time. He didn’t say much, just letting the silence lull between them. Dean, on the other hand, seemed quite comfortable with the silence. He just strolled alongside Castiel, hands in his pockets and his eyes taking in the scenery around them.
“You’re not taking me off to murder me, are you?”
“What?” Castiel turned his head to look at him, just barely managing to keep his feet moving.
“Just asking. If you’re going to cut me up into little pieces I’d like some warning.”
“No, I’m not going to…we’re just going to my apartment?”
Dean laughed, tossing his head back and staring up at the sky as he walked.
“Dude, I’m kidding. You live fucking far though, man.”
“Over the river and through the woods,” Castiel mumbled and focused his eyes back on the sidewalk, feeling a little defensive of his place. “I like it.”
“I can’t wait to see it then.”
He looked over at Dean, just barely able to catch the small, almost shy smile that tugged at his lips. He cheeks warmed up a little bit, and he managed to come up with absolutely nothing to say.
They arrived a few minutes later, and Castiel felt himself getting more and more nervous as he made his way up the thin metal staircase to the third floor.
“So, uh, welcome. I guess,” he said as he opened the door, gesturing sort of vaguely at the cramped living room. He had felt like it was mostly clean when he left it that morning, but now it looked messy and embarrassingly unorganized. “Sorry about the mess.”
“Don’t worry about it, buddy. You should see my place.”
He patted Castiel on the back and sat down on the big brown couch, resting his arms along the back and planting his feet on the floor so that his legs were spread indecently wide.
“No please, make yourself at home,” Castiel grumbled, dropping his backpack onto the ground and crossing his arms.
“Sorry, drill sergeant,” he put up his hands in surrender and stood up, but there was an amused sort of spark in his eyes.
Castiel just sighed and walked into the spare bedroom, pushing the door open as he entered.
“This is my pseudo-studio,” he started, just sort of assuming that Dean had followed him. He gestured around at the white sheet currently hanging, the piles of various other colors piled in the corner, the many different makeshift light sources scattered around the room, as well as the tripod and the small, high-backed wooden chair in the middle. “We’ll be working here, mostly.”
Dean entered the room and wandered around, dragging his fingers across the various surfaces and objects. Castiel watched his slow progression, mesmerized by the way he moved. He walked with a purpose, each step slow and carefully measured. His eyes scanned the space, head tilting and rotating around in all directions. He looked, quite honestly, like a predator.
“Awesome,” Dean said quietly to himself, like the rickety, makeshift room was something to be impressed by.
“I’m going to set up. You can sit, if you like.”
Castiel went about preparing his things, which mostly consisted of setting up the tripod in the correct position. When Dean was finished inspecting the room he walked over to the chair, spinning it around so that he was straddling it, forearms resting on the wooden back.
“Did you just…” Castiel stared at him, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes. “Did you just move my chair?”
Dean lifted up his arms and looked down at the old thing, almost like he had forgotten it was there. He glanced up at Castiel, a guilty smile on his face.
“Was I not supposed to?”
“No,” Castiel said flatly. “You weren’t.”
“I’ll move it back. You gonna keep those things on?” he pointed at Castiel’s face, presumably at his big, black-rimmed glasses.
“Considering that I’m legally blind without them, I would say yes. I’m keeping them on.”
Castiel turned away, adjusting his reflectors for the daylight coming in through the window.
“Isn’t it hard to look through the camera?”
Castiel sighed, exasperation slipping into his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose before responding, thankful that he was facing away from where Dean was sitting.
“I’ll manage.”
He moved back to the camera and peered through the viewfinder, his right eye closed and his nose pressed softly against the back of the camera. He reached backwards and adjusted his stool so that he could sit down while comfortably looking through the camera. Meanwhile, Dean stayed put in his chair, his hands drumming on the thin slats on the back and his head bobbing to some invisible tune.
Castiel had to hold back a smile while he watched him, somehow enjoying the carelessness of his body language. He spent a minute or two adjusting the lens, perfecting the focus and the setting.
“Should I be posing right now?” Dean asked, pausing his air drumming for the time being.
“No,” Castiel hummed, still fiddling with the camera. “I’m adjusting the light meter. No pictures yet.”
“Doesn’t the camera do that for you?”
He looked genuinely interested, so Castiel suspended his sarcasm for the moment.
“Some of them do, yes. This one, however, does not. I’m partial to classic 35mm manuals, so that’s what I use.”
“In English?”
Castiel huffed out a small laugh, letting his lips curve up into a small smile but keeping his face pressed to the camera.
“It’s a film camera, nothing electronic except for a basic light meter. When we’re finished, I’ll develop the film by hand.”
Dean furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, nodding his head. Castiel wasn’t sure if that meant he understood or not. After a couple of seconds his face relaxed and he leaned forward, settling his forearms on top of the back of the chair again and resting his chin on top of them. He was staring down at the ground, lips pouted slightly and his long eyelashes casting shadows on his freckled cheeks.
Castiel’s breath left his body in one swift whoosh, leaving him completely floored. Dean was so much more than just pretty.
He inhaled quietly, like he didn't want to disturb Dean. He wound the film slowly and snapped several pictures in a row, afraid that this perfect moment was going to pass. Already he could envision the blacks and whites, how they would mix and intertwine. How Dean’s freckles would pop on his skin, the pure contentment laced throughout his posture.
When he heard the snap of the camera Dean glanced up, his entire body staying completely still except for his eyes. Castiel took a couple more pictures, completely mesmerized. Dean stared straight through the camera, like he could see Castiel hiding behind it. Like he was staring into Castiel, not into the lens of a camera.
After a couple more snaps he sat back, hands gripping the back of the chair and a cocky grin on his face.
“Ready, set, go? No warning?”
“You looked perfect.”
Castiel felt his face flush as soon as he said it. Shit shit shit.
Dean laughed and looked down at his lap, running a hand through his light brown hair. Castiel took more pictures, loving the candidness of these moments.
“I’ll tell you, Cas, you’re gonna have to take me on a date or something before you start talking like that.”
Castiel felt his stomach tie itself up in knots, absolutely sure that Dean was joking but still sort of uncomfortable.
“Stop talking.”
Dean made like he was zipping his lips, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. Castiel sort of knew, someplace in his mind, that this entire roll of film was going to be useless to him. It was in no way related to his project, not helpful in the slightest. And yet here he was, still taking more pictures. For some reason.
“Dean, can you at least try to look at the camera for more than three seconds at a time?”
That got him a genuine, amused smile, one that he made sure to capture.
“You got it, boss.”
He didn’t really look at the camera though, he just looked everywhere around the camera. His eyes jumped around, everywhere from the top of the tripod to where Castiel’s finger rested on the trigger.
“Dean.”
“Yeah, Cas?”
“The lens. You should be looking at it.”
He smiled and shifted his gaze so that he was looking at the lens again, but thankfully didn’t stare through it with such intensity as before.
“Am I a bad model? Is that why you're being such a grinch?”
“A what?”
“A grinch.”
Castiel paused, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing his lips tight together.
“You’re not a bad model,” he said after a minute. “Even Tyra would be impressed with you.”
Dean laughed at that, open mouthed and happy. Castiel snapped one picture, and then he ran out of film. Shit.
“Uh, that’s it,” he mumbled, leaning back away from the camera.
“Well, that was easy.”
Dean gripped the back of the chair and stood up, sliding his hands back into his pockets.
“Today was just a preliminary shoot, so I can get a feel for you.”
“Damn Novak, what’d I say about a date?” he laughed, rocking on the balls of his feet.
“Stop it,” Castiel snapped, tension rising in his gut. Dean tossed his hands up in surrender, an amused look on his face. “Next time will be the real thing.”
Dean just nodded in response, running a hand through his hair again.
“When are you available next?”
“Tomorrow? Don’t work Thursdays.”
“Good,” Castiel pushed his glasses up his nose, making a mental note to clean them once Dean was gone. “I have lecture until noon, we can meet up after that, if that’s convenient. Say 12:30?”
Dean smiled at him, big and cocky. “Sure thing, Cas.”
Castiel showed him out after that, making sure that his brother was in fact coming to pick him up. There was no drawn out goodbye, no hand shaking or hugging or anything exciting, really. It was sort of awkward, quite honestly, which was probably 95% Castiel’s fault. Dean didn’t seem bothered by it, or he didn’t notice. One of the two.
As soon as he was gone Castiel leaned his back against the door, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He pulled out his phone and dialed Anna, who answered after the first ring.
“I need a drink,” he sighed. This was going to be a long two weeks.