Chapter Text
Notes: A massive thank you to my artist septembertuesday for the super awesome art, you went above and beyond with the headers and the dividers and gosh everything is just so sweet and you really picked out some of my favorite moments in the fic, thank you so much! A hella thanks also to my friends salesassociatesteve and thedropoutandthejunkie for beta'ing and giving great feedback. And a thanks to maidenpool for keeping me sane throughout this ordeal. A huge thank you too, to the mods of the BB maidenpool and msdoomandgloom, thank you guys for putting this together!
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Titles from Red Hot Chili Peppers 'Scar Tissue'
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The stainless steel kettle on the stove whistled, sending a plume of steam up. Castiel turned the stove off, set the kettle aside on a trivet on the counter, and finished unloading the dishwasher. Rinsing and loading the few dirty dishes from the sink to the dishwasher after it was emptied, he dried his hands on a towel and picked out his favorite cobalt blue mug. Standing in front of his spice cupboard that had a whole shelf and a half also dedicated to teas, Castiel considered Earl Gray, Peppermint, and Mango green before picking out the Earl Gray box and taking a tea bag out.
Pouring the hot water in his mug with the tea bag, he let that steep as he rummaged for the jar of honey that always got shoved to the back of the cupboard. Dolloping a spoonful in, he stirred and pulled the bag out on the spoon, wrapping the string around the spoon and bag to squeeze it out before dropping it in the pedal waste basket beside the counters.
Taking his tea through the kitchen to the living room, one space opening up to the next without walls in between, Castiel settled on the couch. He was really quite happy with the condo he'd bought in full almost two months ago. The kitchen and living room were separated by a line of cabinet and countertop, there were two modest bedrooms down a small hall and a nice sized bathroom. What Castiel was most pleased with was the view out of the living room windows that stretched almost floor to ceiling.
His condo was on the fourth floor of the large brick building, and situated at the back. It faced the wooded ravine that separated the condominium complex from a maze of sprawling suburban houses. He liked to watch the sunset from his west facing living room, setting behind the low ranch roof tops of the houses and the big leafy canopy of the trees. It was a quiet neighborhood. And close enough to his workplace that he could commute by bicycle. Castiel was finally settling in to a new routine.
A fat orange tabby jumped on the couch and made itself comfortable in his lap. Castiel set his tea down on the coffee table and scritched under the cat's chin. Leaning forward to grab the remote, he turned the television on to the NatGeo channel. It was playing something about lions. Castiel happily set the remote aside and stretched to reach the basket of yarn underneath the coffee table. His cat shifted as he did, settling back in his lap as Castiel set the basket next to him on the couch and pulled out his knitting project.
He'd bought the couch for twenty dollars at a garage sale several weeks ago, still furnishing his new condo. The place had come with some furniture, a nice solid light wood bed room set, a modern chrome and laminate kitchen table with chairs. The rest Castiel found piecemeal at sales and second hand shops. He liked this couch. It might have a strange bright green paisley pattern, but it was comfortable and plush. Nothing in his condo matched, but that was all right. He'd repainted all the white and beige walls in soft greens and blues the first weekend he moved in.
It was perfectly relaxing. Castiel was settled for another quiet Friday night, the sky blushing with sunset, his cat asleep on his lap, when his phone rang. He knew who it was before he saw 'Dean' flash on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Cas, hey, we're gonna be there in a half hour or so to take you out."
"We?"
"Yeah, me and Benny of course, and Sam's coming too.”
Castiel shifted and folded his knitting neatly on top of the basket as he cradled the phone against his shoulder with his ear.
"And where exactly are you planning on taking me?"
"Out for drinks."
"No."
"Yes."
"I'm busy."
"You so aren't. I bet you're just sitting on your couch with your cat watching Antique's Roadshow and knitting."
Castiel looked down at his cat, draped over his lap, and sighed. "Incorrect. I'm watching a documentary on lions.”
"Cas. Come on. Come out with us. Man, I hardly see you anymore since you moved out."
"I know, I'm sorry Dean."
"Hey, hey I'm not trying to make you feel guilty about it or anything. But holing up in your condo all the time ain't healthy. You're turning into a hermit, dude."
"I just ... I don't think I'm really ready to...."
"I promise I'm not trying to hook you up with anyone, just drinks with the guys."
"All right."
"Yeah? Awesome man, we'll be there soon!"
Castiel hung up and tossed his phone on top of his abandoned knitting work, petting his cat as a lion mauled an antelope on the television. "Well, I suppose you'll have the place to yourself tonight. No wild parties, and I'll know if you get in to the nip."
Castiel figured he ought to get up and get dressed. He should probably tidy a little, but it's not as though his friends would mind. He tried to remember the last time he had seen Dean, and he actually had to get up and check the calendar on the kitchen wall to remember what day it was. Two weeks. It had been two weeks since he'd seen Dean or Benny. He really hadn't made the effort to see them as often as he ought to after he moved out of their apartment. They were nice enough to offer him their couch after he moved here and he had occupied it for three months before finding his own place. Dean knew he was still struggling with mild depression after the divorce, and was more than content to give Castiel his space, up to a certain limit. And Dean probably had a point, he'd been growing increasingly isolationist.
It was almost a year now since the divorce. Ten years. He had been married to Daphne for ten years of his life. That was almost a quarter of his existence. They'd bought a house together. Had insurance policies together. Daphne was there for him through his mother's death several years ago, the last of his biological family. He thought that she, and her family, would be his family for the rest of this life. But there was one thing that Castiel found he couldn't give her. Children.
Castiel had been twenty eight after he was discharged from the Air Force following five years of service, a combat injury and several months in the hospital for recovery. He met Dean in the hospital, lucky to still have his leg and a very chatty roommate. When Castiel was recovered enough to go back home, he promised to keep in touch with Dean who would be returning to his own home that was states away from Castiel.
He returned to live with his mother and look for a job, volunteering at the church to give himself purpose until he found a way to support himself. It was there that he met Daphne, sweet and kind and sympathetic. In retrospect, Castiel is uncertain why they decided to get married after knowing each other for only a few months. But they were both nearing thirty, still single and alone. And his mother was so happy for him to have met a nice girl at church. When he found a job putting his business degree to moderate use doing clerical work for a factory assembly plant, he started saving for a wedding, a house, a life together with Daphne.
She had wanted children since their wedding night. Castiel thought that he wanted children too, just not right away. He worried excessively. At first he worried that his PTSD would affect his ability to be a father. He worried that his salary wasn't large enough. He worried that he wouldn't be able to provide the material or emotional support that a child would need.
After several years, the mortgage slowly shrinking, several promotions, and a good amount of therapy later, Daphne started talking about children again. Still, he worried. The war was still going on although the public's interest in it was waning. The economy was tanking. The rising costs of college tuition and health insurance worried him.
Only six years in and there was a rift growing between them. Daphne gave him space. Too much perhaps, and he let her, he slid away from her and walled himself off. He worried about the state of the educational system, about financial institutions, about GMO's and the vicious divisiveness in politics. It was never quite the right time.
They finally realized that it would never be the right time. After ten years, they divorced. Castiel wasn't bitter about it, he wasn't interested in bickering. He took half the savings and one of the cars, a few boxes of his clothes and books, and he left. The divide between them had been gradually widening for so long, and yet the separation had seemed so sudden.
He was fortunate that one of his friends from work was kind enough to let him stay in her spare bedroom. Hannah worked in the position one rung down from him and Castiel had no doubt she would take his position one day. Most likely sooner rather than later. He had no interest in staying in their town, nothing to keep him there. Yet he had no where else to go. After trudging to work for a month past the divorce, Castiel gave up and quit. He hadn't realized at the time how severe his depression was, he just lived off his savings in Hannah's guest room.
Throughout his entire marriage and the fallout thereof, Castiel had kept in touch with Dean through letters and e-mail. Dean, who had married someone he met in the army, Benny. Castiel had never met Benny, but he saw more than enough pictures of the smiling couple to know how good for each other they were. Over the years of his uneventful marriage, he kept up with Dean's messages of them living together, opening a restaurant together, finally marrying when it was legalized. Dean told Castiel about his brother, Sam, and what he was doing. Dean told him about cooking, tattoos, traveling, renovating his house, everything and anything.
After the divorce, Castiel tried to isolate, to hide basically from everything in the hopes that he could hide from himself. Hannah decided she knew better for him - and she had - and got in contact with Dean to fill him in on what Castiel was not telling him. It resulted in Benny and Dean moving things around in their life for him, and after living with Hannah for five months he finally moved out, states away, to occupy Benny and Dean's guest bedroom.
Dean hated his cat. And was horrendously allergic. Castiel couldn't bear to give up his friend for adoption, and felt terrible keeping the cat confined to one room. He managed to find his own accommodations after a few months, and a new job. With the savings he had, he bought his condo out right and didn't need much for his basic necessities. So he took a minimum wage job with no responsibility working at a Gas n' Sip.
It was really quite marvelous. He never had to take his work home wit him. His biggest worry at work was the Slurpee machine backing up. It was an undemanding job within biking distance of his condo, so he sold his car and that was one less worry. He took up a hobby and started to knit. He lined the windowsills in plants. Castiel was happy. He realized he was even happier than when he was married to Daphne. He had no one else to take care of, to worry about. Although he missed sleeping next to a warm body and the comfortable companionship that they'd had in the first few years of their marriage, he liked the quiet simplicity of his life here.
Dean was right though. He was perhaps a little too introverted. And he had promised his friends that he'd keep in touch, that he'd see them regularly so Dean wouldn't have to worry about him. It wasn't as though Castiel disliked spending time with them, it was just that it was too emotionally draining sometimes that he couldn't muster the effort. Tonight though, tonight felt like it might be a good night.
Castiel was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of a buzzer. Shooing the cat off his lap he went to the front door, pressing down on the button on the console pad that communicated with the front entrance. Dean's voice came through riddled with static. Castiel said hello and buzzed them in. In the few minutes it took for them to come up, he tucked his knitting basket back under the table and put his tea mug in the dishwasher. He had been too distracted daydreaming to get dressed and was still wearing blue plaid pajama bottoms and an old 'earth day' t-shirt when a loud knock came from the door.
Dean's smiling face was the first to meet him when he swung the door open. Dean pulled him in for a hug and slapped his back with a 'Hey Cas' before making his way in to the condo. Benny pulled him in for a one armed hug and back slap as well.
"How have you been brother?"
"I've been all right, how are you?"
"Good, good."
Benny made his way over to the living room and sat heavily on the couch next to Dean. Sam stood just inside the door and gave Castiel a small wave.
"Hello Sam, it's good to see you."
"Yeah, you too Cas. Do you uh, are you still getting ready?"
Castiel nodded, "Sorry, time got away from me."
From the couch, Dean waved him off. "Don't worry about it, night's still young. Go get dressed man, we're just going to a casual bar for some beers okay?"
"I won't be long."
Castiel turned as Sam crouched down and made kissing noises at the tabby who was warily eyeing the strangers from the hallway. Castiel was pleased to see the feline trot over to Sam, even letting himself get picked up. Sam seemed quite happy with the turn of events, carefully holding the cat and rubbing it's chin.
Padding down the hallway to his bedroom, Castiel shut the door and pulled a pair of jeans out of his dresser. He'd seen Sam in passing, but the young man had only just come back to the states from a deployment in the Peace Corps. It amused Castiel that both brothers had joined government organizations that worked overseas but for vastly different purposes. He thinks in retrospect that if he had given it deeper consideration in his early twenties, he may have picked something like the Peace Corps over the Air Forces.
Pulling on a white undershirt, Castiel considered his dresser drawer of old t-shirts. Those he usually wore for work around the house, well condo now, and exercise. Perhaps that would be more appropriate for casual attire though. But he felt more comfortable still in crisp white button downs. He'd worn them to work for a decade, and although his job at the Gas n' Sip didn't require anything near business casual attire, he still wore them. He felt relaxed in them, it was a part of his identity.
Castiel closed the dresser and picked a button down out of the closet. He pulled a blue tie around his neck, then discarded it and pulled a gray tie on. He had that half knotted before deciding on a red tie. Huffing to himself in vague frustration, Castiel leaned against the dresser and squinted at his reflection. He hadn't gone out for a while. There was no reason to be anxious, but he was. Scratching the scruff along his jaw he wondered if he had time to shave, but the others were already here and waiting.
Finishing the knot in the red tie he smoothed it down. He felt almost bare without a suit jacket or a blue work vest. So he settled on pulling on a waist coat, a charcoal gray one that he liked with the color of his tie. It was good enough, the jeans were casual, he had started wearing jeans since he lived with Dean and Benny. They were certainly more comfortable and lower maintenance than slacks.
Everyone was on the couch when he came back out, and by the looks of it thoroughly engrossed with the documentary on lions that Castiel had been watching. There was a lioness with blood running through her fur as she ripped into a carcass that Castiel could not identify at this point. Castiel moved to the kitchen area and filled a small cat dish with kibble for just in case and set it on the floor. It should last all night, but the tabby cat streaked in to devour it right away.
"I'm ready to head out, unless you are all more interested in the documentary?"
Dean laughed and pushed up off the couch, "I guess it's not that bad a way to spend a night."
He came around the line of counters and reached out, loosening Castiel's tie a little and unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt. Castiel had come to understand this as a kind of 'grooming'. Dean rolled up his shirt sleeves to the elbow and slapped Castiel on the upper arm.
"There, you'll be beating the girls off with a stick."
Benny was standing behind Dean, rolling his eyes. "Darlin', don't frighten him off before we get out the door."
Castiel smiled and moved to the small table by the door where his keys were, pocketing them with his wallet and phone. "Perhaps I will be daring enough tonight to solicit a phone number."
The bar that Dean drove them to was a squat brown cinder block building with a row of motorcycles parked in front and neon signs in the windows. ’69 Taps’ sprawled on a sign above the entrance to the building with a sign hanging to the side declaring that tonight they would be hosting a jello wrestling tournament; Castiel rolled his eyes to himself in the back seat, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what jello wrestling was but it seemed to be fairly self explanatory.
There was a car repair garage to one side of the bar, and rail road tracks on the other side. A small strip of shops sat on the other side of the street - a pizza place, a hair salon, a convenience store. The area looked a little shabby but Castiel supposed it was just the sort of place that Dean liked and since he was the one driving it’s where they ended up.
The parking lot was gravel and they passed a group of smokers chatting loudly outside before making their way in to the bar. Sam wove his way through a light crowd to a table in the corner. Everyone followed suit and Castiel sat himself down with his back to the wall. Dean tossed his jacket over a chair and said he’d be back with drinks.
There were deer antlers and animal heads hung on the walls, an old juke box in one corner, the floor scuffed and worn, tables set up with mis matching chairs, two pool tables to one side and a few dart boards. It looked like a casual place, and Castiel was honestly a little surprised at how much of a crowd there already was for so early in the night.
Sam slapped him on the shoulder. “So Cas, how have you been? You must be enjoying your own place without having to live with these two?”
He was smiling good naturedly, and Castiel liked him, how friendly he was and how easy with conversation. “It’s been nice, I will admit I miss Dean’s cooking, but my cat has been keeping me company.”
Dean made his way back to the table with a pitcher of beer and shots on a tray. He sat down next to Benny and started pushing drinks towards people, Benny resting a hand on his thigh under the table.
Castiel accepted a drink from Dean with a ‘thank you’, carrying on his conversation with Sam. “So where did you get back from exactly?”
“Uganda, I mostly worked helping on the construction of irrigation lines for agriculture, but we built a school house too.”
“That must be very rewarding.”
“Yeah, it was pretty great. I still felt sometimes like I wasn’t really doing enough, you know, there’s so much they need, and I know a lot of people feel like we should help repair America before doing anything overseas, but it’s a great program, every little thing helps.”
“Are you going on another assignment, somewhere else?” Castiel leaned back in his chair and sipped beer while they talked.
“No, I think I’m going to stay home for a while, I’ve missed people here. I might have a job lined up.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Dean has some friends in construction and I think I’ll do that, at least for the summer.”
Dean interjected, “You know Lou would be glad to have you, Sammy, you stick around a while.”
“Yeah. I will.”
Dean leaned back casually in his chair, one of Benny’s arms slung across his shoulders. “Hey you know what Sammy, me and Benny are thinking of organizing a hike down the Appalachian trail next year. You should stick around, do that with us.”
Sam considered it with a warm smile, beer cradled between his large hands. “I’d really like that. Dude, Cas, you should come too. Are you in to hiking?”
“I am. I have wanted to travel more, now…”
He trailed off leaving the rest unspoken. It wasn’t as though Daphne held him back, he simply had rearranged priorities. As he had aged, so had perspective and things were forgotten and lost from childhood easily. Like his desire to travel, to see all the exotic places he read about in National Geographic, to learn new things and meet new people.
Benny leaned forward as he refilled glasses with the pitcher. “Oh yeah? Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere, really.”
Castiel had been keeping track of how many drinks and of what kind he’d been consuming as the night wore on. It was a sort of game, or mental exercise. Keeping track was also useful for knowing his own boundaries. However, the game as well as his boundaries had been well and truly obliterated several tequila shots ago. At least, Castiel thinks it was only several tequila shots ago. Perhaps more than that.
He’s not a very heavy drinker, and he does not frequent bars on a regular basis. But when he is in the mind to, and when he has the right company, Castiel is very good at drinking. Perhaps too good. Well, he is an ‘all in’ or ‘all out’ kind of guy. Most nights, it’s a kettle’s worth of tea before bed. Tonight he set his mind to drinking and he’s exceeding his own expectations.
Dean has been tipped against Benny for a while now, with one of Benny’s arms around his shoulders holding him up. Benny doesn’t drink nearly so much as the rest of them, but he’s good company and seems to be very cheerfully tolerant of his drunk partner. Sam, now, Castiel likes drinking with Sam. The alcohol most likely does not affect him as much because of just how much of him there is, but he’s pink cheeked and laughs at the stupidest things and he’s very physical, easily slapping a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and dragging him over to point something out. Castiel likes the feeling of casual friendship.
As the night has proceeded, the jello wrestling event has unfolded. The kiddie pool of jello was set up on the small dance floor space, and most of the patrons on the bar were gathered around it, blocking the view from the little corner table that the four of them still occupied. But as the crowds shifted they could see glimpses of what was happening and there was a DJ who acted as the ring master, narrating over microphone what was happening as well as counting out the final tap which was set at five.
There were numerous girls stripped down to bras and panties that joined in the revelry. Some came wearing bikinis. Other’s wore shorts and tight shirts. Castiel was surprised to learn that there was a sizable pot of winnings at stake, one hundred and fifty dollars to the last person standing. As people were defeated, the winners were pitted against each other, and it seemed the game would go to one of two heavily tattooed brunettes which the DJ introduced as Ruby and Meg. The crowd seemed to love them, and Castiel assumed that they were regulars here who had participated in this tradition of jello wrestling before.
Castiel was surprised by how much he enjoyed following the dwindling hopefuls vying for the title of jello wrestling champion, and Dean was quite pleased with himself that Castiel was having a good night. He was a good friend.
There was, however, one thing which irked Castiel.
“Why are there only women participating?” He slurred a little, licking the last grains of salt from the rim of a margarita cup. He couldn’t remember getting it, but margaritas were very tasty. Sam had a pink colored drink with little umbrellas hanging out of the cup. Why didn’t Castiel get a little umbrella?
Dean laughed and took a swig of his beer,”Seriously Cas? Look around you, what kind of bar you think this is.”
“One that serves alcohol. No, really, why are there only women wrestling?”
Benny rolled his eyes. Castiel knew that he was definitively homosexual whereas Dean was bisexual, but Benny didn’t seem to mind Dean’s interest in watching women so long as he treated them like museum pieces - no touching.
Dean patted him on the shoulder, “Dude this is a straight bar, the point of jello wrestling is to get chicks naked and dirty.”
Sam huffed and gave Dean what Castiel was learning Dean had dubbed his ‘bitch face’.
Castiel squinted across the crowd at the DJ holding up one of the brunette’s wrists declaring her winner of the match. The two brunettes who had dominated the night were set to wrestle each other now to determine the winner.
Castiel persisted, “If it’s a straight bar and the point of women wrestling is to titillate the men’s interest, why wouldn’t men wrestle to generate interest with the women?”
Dean shrugged, “It’s just the way it is man.”
Castiel squinted at Dean, “I think it’s sexist.”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Well they don’t explicitly state that only women can participate from what I can tell, so I’m going to throw my hand in the ring.”
Castiel pushed his chair back with an uncomfortably loud screech as Sam fell on the table laughing, and Dean caught his arm. “You really think that’s a good idea?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Once on his feet, he was steady at least. The women in the kiddie pool were really quite skilled and watching them from closer Castiel was almost distracted from his mission, but he pushed through the crowds to the DJ booth.
“Excuse me!”
The DJ was an older man, heavily muscled with salt and pepper hair, who leaned closer to talk. “Yeah?”
“Are you still accepting new entries for the jello wrestling?”
“Yeah, you got a friend wants to throw in?”
“I would like to enter.”
The man leaned back and laughed, then decided he was serious, frowned and eyed Castiel from head to foot before saying, “No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“Guys don’t jello wrestle.”
“I’d like to.”
“Nope. You’d have an unfair advantage on the girls.”
“Excuse me, there are plenty of women just as skilled at the sport as there are men. “
“Well, it’s not happening. I’m not having a guy get half naked and get in there with the women.”
Castiel hadn’t considered that point. “And if I have another male friend and we’d like to enter ourselves, just for the fun of it?”
The DJ rolled his eyes. “You sure you know how to have fun?”
“I do.”
He shook his head. “Whatever. You and your buddy wanna to make asses of yourselves to prove a point you can have at it but you’re not going to be in the running for the prize money.”
“That’s acceptable,” Castiel told his back as the DJ moved closer to the kiddie pool where one of the women seemed to be gaining the upper hand.
Castiel toddered back to their table. He didn’t sit down, just tugged on Dean’s sleeve.
“Dean.”
“Yeah Cas?”
“Come jello wrestle with me.”
Dean stared up at him. Benny was the one laughing now.
“Whadya mean, I’m not gonna wrestle.”
Benny unhooked his arm from Dean and shoved him towards Castiel. “Go on sugar, I know I’d enjoy the show.”
“Please, Dean.”
Dean groused, “You can put your goddam puppy eyes away,” but he was up and following Castiel across the bar to the kiddy pool area. The DJ was winding down on a ‘3 - 2 - 1’, lifting up a victorious Meg’s arm into the air and declaring her the winner while the other woman she was wrestling, Ruby, grabbed a handful of jello to shove down her bra. It was a very dignified sport.
The DJ saw Castiel come back with his friend.
“All right ladies and gentleman, we’ve got a treat for you tonight, well it’s just a treat for the ladies at least. This has never happened in 69 Taps jello wrestling history, but we’ve got two more contestants who want to throw their hands in the ring. Introduce yourselves, fellas.”
The mic was shoved in Castiel’s face and he rumbled, “Castiel.”
When it was pushed at Dean, he introduced himself with, “My name is Dean Winchester, I’m an aquarius, I like long walks on the beach and frisky women.”
That earned some laughter from the crowd. Castiel was quick to strip down to his plain white boxers and step inside the kiddie pool, squishing bright red jello in between his toes. Someone threw another bucket of jello in. There were women jostling to the front of the crowds with obvious interest, and while most men seemed amused some seemed irritated and Castiel figured they could just fuck off.
It was dim enough in the bar, and Castiel was drunk enough, that he was not self conscious at all about the smattering of old faded scars that ran down his left side from his ribs to below his hip. He reminded himself that Dean’s knee still bothered him sometimes and to go easy on it. Speaking of, Dean was taking his time stripping to the catcalls, wiggling his hips when he was down to Iron Man briefs that Castiel was unaware they made in adult sizes.
Although he may have resisted at first, Dean was all cocky grins when he stepped into the ring. They shook hands and went to either side of the small pool. Castiel stood and looked down at his feet a moment, squishing the red jello between his toes. It felt… wonderful. He was thirty nine years old, still getting over his divorce, drunk in a redneck bar with his friends, and wearing a pair of boxers in a pool of jello. He had never once considered in his life that he would be in this sort of situation. It was liberating.
Castiel didn’t realize the DJ had shouted for the match to start until Dean slammed in to him.
It was true that both of them had been trained in combat, however, that was years ago. Castiel jogged every morning, but it wasn’t like he sparred or anything. Muscle was still there, under a layer of fat that had accumulated in domesticated marriage. Nonetheless, he grappled and twisted and ended up straddling Dean on his back in the pool, only to be flipped and pinned momentarily. Castiel soon discovered this sport was slippery and treacherous. And tasty.
Dean ended up pinning him face first with one arm twisted painfully behind himself, and the DJ counted down to two before Castiel managed to wiggle out of his hold, shoving his hips up and unbalancing Dean’s perch. The crowd was laughing and whistling, the two of them kept rolling against the knee high sides of the pool and sending jello flying. Hooking a leg sideways around Dean’s waist, Castiel got him flipped onto his belly and twisted both arms under Dean’s armpits to clasp his hands at the back of Dean’s neck in a hold.
There was no purchase to be had from the jello slippery floor of the small kiddie pool, staying on top of Dean proved difficult but Castiel swayed with how he bucked up trying to send Castiel flying, keeping Dean’s arms up at an awkward angle and holding him down. Castiel distantly heard the DJ counting down until the crowd erupted with cheers and he was declared the winner of the match.
He suddenly felt a little foolish when he stood covered in jello and had to actually look at people, but Dean was perfectly content to bounce up and wave at everyone, slinging a leg over the edge of the pool and crawling out. Castiel was about to do so when the DJ released his wrist, but the young brunette - Meg - that had won all the women’s matches stepped up and declared that she wanted to challenge Castiel.
Castiel hadn’t realized how small she was until she stepped into the kiddie pool and just barely came up to his shoulders. But she tipped her head back and glared at him.
“I’ve held this title four months in a row, I’m not letting you steal my thunder pretty boy.”
“I had no intentions of such, I just, thought it looked like fun.”
“Oh it is, and I’ll have a hell of a lot of fun pinning your ass to the floor.”
The DJ’s voice boomed over the microphone, “What do you think ladies and gents, should we let our resident champion take on the newcomer?”
Castiel had not expected this when he tugged Dean over to wrestle with him. The crowd erupted in drunken hollering and Meg was grinning at him threateningly. He would see this through to the end. The DJ hadn’t wanted him to wrestle with the women out of a perceived advantage as a male, but Castiel would not underestimate this woman. From what he had seen of her previous matches, she was fierce.
Dropping in to a lower crouched defensive stance, Castiel nodded and Meg laughed as the DJ called the start of the match.
She charged him first. Castiel swiveled to wrap his arms around her waist and lift her, intending to drop her to the floor. Meg shifted her weight and slammed her shoulder into his sternum, getting a hold on his hips and grappling. She was very strong. And much more experienced in this. While Castiel drunkenly slipped in the jello and failed to secure his hold on her, Meg slid her feet wider and braced, using her smaller stature to topple him with a twisting push at his midsection, throwing off his balance.
Slammed to his back in a wet squelch of jello, Castiel stared up at the woman who was grinning maniacally as she leapt and slammed her body down on him. Bucking his hips, he tossed her to the side and rolled, vision momentarily impeded with jello. She squirmed and writhed, getting him to one side but then he was pressing against the plastic wall of the shallow kiddie pool. Grunting, panting, skin slapping and limbs tangled, somehow Castiel ended up face first in the jello with Meg straddling his back.
Getting his hands and knees underneath him, she was forced to slide down as he heaved up. Castiel was ready to flip around and catch her, but, as she slipped down behind him she took his boxers with her.
Cold air hit his ass and Castiel froze. A knee was pressed to the spot between his shoulder blades and his face dropped back down into the jello as his arms gave out.
She slapped his ass.
Slapped him.
Ass up and bare with his face shoved in jello in the middle of a redneck bar while he was pinned down by a woman, Castiel only struggled weakly as the DJ counted down. She had certainly bested him, even if it were by trickery.
When the DJ declared Meg the winner and she lifted off him, Castiel hastily pulled his jello wet boxers back up his hips and pushed up to his knees. "That wasn't fair, you... " slipping in the jello he fell back on his ass as the woman gloated over him, "... are so immature..." heaving himself up and swaying unsteadily he glared at her, "... you fight dirty."
A broad grin split her face and she slapped him on the upper arm. "Of course I do. Dirty is what wins, baby!"
Castiel gaped at her. He was slightly offended, but he supposed that he had already made a fool of himself stripping down to his boxers to wrestle in a pool of jello. Was baring his ass that much more of an indignity? He had to concede respect for the victor.
But she was already gone, swept in to her group of friends, the other girl she was there with laughing raucously.
Dean, hair slicked back with jello and a grin plastered on his face, met Castiel at the bar. He tried tugging his pants back on, grimacing and almost toppling over as he attempted to drunkenly balance and get the pants up his sticky legs.
Benny and Sam made their way over, amused. Dean grabbed his shirt from him as Castiel picked it up. “Go rinse off a little in the bathroom man, just, grab some paper towels and, just, yeah.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Attempting to rinse off in the bar bathroom sink was not a very successful endeavor. Several patrons were also very happy to jibe him for being bested by a woman. Well, they didn’t even throw their hands in, what did they know. At least getting his face scrubbed off, Castiel felt better.
When he padded - still barefoot - back to the bar he saw that Ruby and Meg had joined his friends there. Sliding on to a stool at the edge of the group, next to Meg, she turned a smile to him. The girls looked about in the same state, mostly dressed but not entirely and still smeared red with jello, their hair knotted up in tangled buns.
“Well don’t you clean up real purty now.”
Castiel perched on the edge of the stool, holding the bar for balance. “You do this frequently?”
“The wrestling? Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you around here?”
“I’m fairly new to the area, my friends dragged me out tonight.”
“I’m glad they did.”
Castiel blinked at her, mouth open. He was fairly sure that she meant to be flirtatious, but it had been a long long time since a girl flirted with him. Well, she’d already slapped his ass, it couldn’t get much weirder.
Meg had waved a bar tender down and ordered something for herself. Castiel was contemplating whether it would really be wise for him to continue drinking, when she slid a shot glass over to him.
“Here, least I can do is buy you a drink for making the night more interesting.”
“Oh, thank you, you don’t have to -“
“See, but I want to. C’mon, drink up, maybe we’ll do some naked wrestling back at my place later.”
That was… definitely a flirtation. A proposition?
Lifting his shot glass in a salute, he knocked back the syrupy and very pungent liquor. Castiel’s nose scrunched as he grimaced, tongue working against his palate to try and rub out the aftertaste. It was like licorice and something else that he didn’t recognize.
"Ungh what was that?"
Meg was beaming at him. "Jaggermeister. I swear, that shit works miracles."
Castiel waved the bartender over and ordered two more. He figured he could use a miracle.