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“I’m going to check the study carrels in back, make sure no one fell asleep again,” Castiel said to the other student on closing duty that night. All he got was a mumbled agreement while the guy stayed behind the register, eyes glued to a textbook.
With a sigh, he made his way through the shelves to the back of the library to check the study area. Only the first floor remained open overnight during this time of year. The floor Castiel worked on shut down at 10 pm. He turned off a few lamps that students had left burning, picked up an armful of books he would have to reshelve.
One carrel was still lit down the far end, and Castiel made his way there, assuming yet another student had left the lamp going. He paused though when he saw the hunched over figure of a student wearing a green flannelette shirt, short spiked hair and blue jeans on long legs that sprawled bonelessly.
He peeked at the content the guy had fallen asleep on and grimaced. Calculus. It would send him to sleep too. He touched the guy carefully on the shoulder and flinched back when his face turned on the folded arms propping him up. Dean Winchester. Campus demigod. Football scholarship. The guy most of the girls wanted, and most of the guys wanted to be. Cas swiped his hands down his pants to get rid of the tingle, as he watched a frown gather on the guy’s incredible face.
He felt the burn continue in his fingertips and trace delicately up his arm. He shook out his hand and backed up a step. He felt the heat gather at his shoulder, and he laid his hand over it, rubbing there in irritation. Was he having an allergic reaction?
Suddenly he was aware of green eyes blinking blearily at him.
“Huh?” Dean mumbled, and scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand.
“Sorry, uh…” Castiel fumbled, still rubbing his arm. “This floor is about to close.”
“Damn…” Dean straightened in his seat, and raising his arms above his head, he yawned. “Sure. Yeah.” He stood up. “Thanks.” He started gathering his books.
Castiel followed him back out of the library.
“Hey, we have Physics together, right?” Dean asked him. “Sorry, I can’t remember your name.”
“I’m Castiel Novak.”
“Right. Castiel.” Dean nodded slowly. “Yeah. You kicked my ass on that last test.”
Castiel paused with his hand on the railing leading downstairs. “I wasn’t aware it was a competition,” he said flatly.
“No. I ..uh…didn’t mean it like that.” Dean rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I was just impressed, that’s all.”
Castiel just stood silently, tongue completely tied.
Dean still hesitated. “I’m Dean. Dean Winchester.”
“I know who you are,” Castiel said flatly.
Dean blinked, startled. “Oh. Okay. Well, see you in Physics.”
“As much as you ever did.”
Dean descended the stairs, one hand trailing on the bannister.
Despite himself, Castiel watched him go, unwillingly admiring the bow legs.
Back in his dorm room, Castiel yanked his sweater vest over his head, folding it neatly, and unbuttoned his shirt. He tossed that toward the hamper and turned back to face the mirror.
He frowned. What the hell was that? He turned to get a better look. A hand print, red and slightly raised, now covered his right shoulder. His mouth opened and his breath hissed between his teeth. Oh hell no. He scrubbed with his palm, hoping he was wrong. But no.
It was his soul mark.
And his damn soul mate was Every-Girl-For-Himself Dean Winchester.
He next saw Dean in their Physics lab the following week. Or rather, saw him outside the lab building. He was talking earnestly with a pretty girl with long dark hair. She wasn’t happy. At all. He couldn’t avoid them, they were standing right outside the door. So he couldn’t help but overhear.
“Lise, come on. I don’t even know who it is. It just appeared one day. It doesn’t mean anything. I don’t feel any different about you. It’s just a mark.”
“It means you met your soul mate, Dean!” Her voice was tremulous with hurt. Castiel felt bad for her. He really did. He wasn’t any happier with the situation. “It means you both touched each other and you belong together.”
Hell no, Castiel scowled. Not a chance. He ducked into the empty classroom, and to the eternal disgust with himself, he stayed listening, leaning back against the wall inside.
“Come on, babe. That’s not fair. If I don’t even know who it is, what difference does it make?” Dean sounded so earnest.
“Don’t you think you should try to find out?” Lisa shoved his shoulder.
“It’s archaic!” Dean protested, frustration colouring his tone. “Just because some girl brushed past me in a hallway, suddenly I’m meant to drop everything and chase after her? I’m meant to just dump you?”
“It was always going to happen.” The girl was close to tears, her voice thick with them. Castiel dipped his chin to his chest. “We didn’t get the soul mark when we got together. So I knew we had a time limit.”
“Well, I don’t want a time limit,” Dean said stubbornly. “I want you.”
“Really?” She sounded choked and a little hopeful.
“Really.”
Castiel couldn’t listen any further. He stumbled to his table and laid down his books.
“Hey, Cas!” Charlie slammed down her books, and slouched onto a stool. “What’s up?”
“Hello, Charlie.” Castiel greeted his best friend.
She frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“No, really.” She poked him in the side and he winced. “What’s wrong?”
“I will tell you later.”
Other students piled in, Dean amongst them.
Green eyes briefly clashed with blue before blue dropped.
Charlie bounced on his bed, and lay back on his immaculate navy blue quilt. “Alright. Spill.”
Castiel silently yanked his shirt and sweater over his head.
“Whoa, whoa! Buddy… what’re you…” He heard Charlie’s protest. Then… “Oh.”
He dropped the clothing to the bed. She scrambled up and studied the mark.
“Yeah,” he said, with a sigh.
“Who has the other one?” She looked at him with wide, questioning eyes.
He could never lie to her. “Dean Winchester.”
“Oh.” She winced.
This is why he loved Charlie. She got it. “Yeah.”
“Okay. So…it could be worse?”
“Tell me how it could be worse?” Castiel demanded.
“Well, okay…” Charlie screwed up her face in consideration. “That’s tricky. What do you want to do?”
“Nothing.” Castiel reached forward and pulled his shirt over his head. “Get through undergrad. Earn my Masters. Get the hell out of here. Winchester doesn’t signify.”
“Don’t you think he should possibly know of your existence?”
“He knows. Just not about this.” Castiel gestured at the part of the handprint still visible.
“Shouldn’t he?” Charlie chewed on her lower lip.
“No,” Castiel said emphatically. “And you can’t tell him. Promise me.”
Charlie hesitated.
“Promise me, Charlie,” he insisted.
She sighed. “Fine. I won’t say a word.”
A few months later, Castiel downed several glasses of caramel schnapps alone in his room.
Charlie tried to wake him the next morning and he groaned his hangover into his pillow, turning his face away from her demands.
Pitiless, he growled in frustration and annoyance before yanking up his laptop from the tiny couch they so often gamed on. The screen turned on, and she glanced at it briefly before moving to shut the screen. She paused and studied it more closely. She saw the Facebook announcement of Dean and Lisa’s engagement front and centre, the happy couple clutching each other tightly.
“Oh. Cas.” She breathed. She set aside the device and headed back to the bed. She laid her hand on his back and leaned down to kiss his hot forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
Dean Winchester and Lisa Braeden were married just after graduation.
Castiel accepted a position at MIT in the nanoscience department. Moving across the country seemed far enough away. Charlie took a position in computer sciences and they took an apartment off campus. For a time he was content. He ignored the handprint. And finally, at Charlie’s suggestion, he got it disguised with a half sleeve tattoo. He hid it under lab coats and suit jackets. And he was okay with that.
While Charlie tried to get him to go out with people, he declined. Happy enough to join in dinners or at a local pub, the intimacy of one on one romantic interaction was just not something that interested him. At first it was frustrating. Then Charlie explained ‘Grey A’ to him. It was both a relief and a frustration.
And he was content for a couple of years.
His research was progressing into fascinating realms, and for a few years, that was enough.
“Castiel Novak, this is Dean Winchester. He’s joining our department. His research into the field has been fascinating and we poached him from Washington University.” Ellen Harvelle, their department head, introduced the two of them. “Be nice. Show him around.”
Castiel swallowed nervously and turned to face the man he hadn’t seen in four years. “Dean.” He held out his hand.
“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s smile was brilliant. “Long time, no see.”
“Oh good, you know each other.” Ellen flapped her hand. “Go on then.”
Castle turned to Dean out in the corridor. “MIT?”
Dean frowned. “What?”
“Why here?”
“They offered me a job.”
Castiel raised a skeptical brow. “Across the country?”
Dean’s jaw clenched. “You have a problem with me being here?”
“No.” Castiel said grimly. “Not at all.”
Fan-fucking-tastic. Dean Winchester in his workplace. Dean Winchester contributing to his damn team, with suggestions that really shook their ideas up. Dean Winchester showing up to after work drinks. Castiel seriously considered not going anymore.
Charlie just punched him in the arm.
It hurt.
He showed up.
Dean was charming. He had Castiel’s workmates laughing and telling stories in no time. Castiel sat silently nursing a single beer. When it was half finished and warm, he set it aside, silently gathered up his coat and headed for the front door.
“Hey, Cas.”
He stopped, the lights blinking on his car. He turned. Dean stood in the carpark in front of him.
“Dean.”
“Why are you angry I’m here?”
“I’m not angry.” Castiel fidgeted with his keys.
“Yes, you are. I’m not an idiot. Was I so … bad to know back at university?”
Castiel covered his face with his hand. “No.”
“What then?”
Castiel took a breath in. And let it out. “You are a welcome asset to the team, Dean. I’m glad that you and your family made your way across here. It’s a good town.”
“I…” Dean was frowning. He tilted his head a little. “Thanks.”
Castiel slid into his car. “See you tomorrow.” He drove off, glancing once in the rear view mirror to take in the sight of the hunched figure in the car park.
When they lost power in A-Block, the staff groaned in frustration. No lights, no machines, no aircon. Castiel still had his laptop, so he sat in his office, yanked off his suit jacket and got back to work.
After a while, their project supervisor Balthazar demanded they all leave. Castiel grumbled. Balthazar insisted. And Castiel stumbled out into the sunshine to join his co-workers while maintenance tried to figure out the problem.
Castiel sprawled on the lawn. He linked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Unfortunately. Ants.
Nibble.
Bite.
BITE.
Castiel leapt up with a shriek and yanked his shirt over his head. He brushed the crushed insects off his arm and chest. The welts were huge and red and he sighed. This is why he didn’t do ‘nature’.
A large hand gripping his bicep stilled his attempt to yank his shirt back on. He glanced up, tense.
“Where did you get that?”
It was Dean. Castiel momentarily panicked, and scrambled to disseminate. “My tattoo? Uhh. I had a local place do it.”
“No.” Dean’s voice was taught. “Not the tattoo.” His thumb brushed the subtle line of the handprint. “That. You tried to cover it. Get rid of it.”
Castiel yanked his arm back. “Get rid of what.”
“Your soul mark.” Dean’s eye’s were wild.
Castiel pulled his shirt into place. “I have no idea what you are going on about.”
Dean pulled up his sleeve. He didn’t wear suits. His t-shirt slid up to reveal the still-bright hand sized scar on his pale skin. “Yes. You do.”
Castiel glanced at it once. “So what?”
Confusion crossed Dean’s face. “It’s our soul mark.”
“You said it right when you first got it. ‘So what?’. It’s some archaic sentiment masquerading as truth. You didn’t want it, I didn’t want it.”
Dean was stunned. “Who says I didn’t want it?”
“You did. A few days after you got it.”
Dean pressed his fingers to his brow. “What do you want me to say, Cas?”
“Nothing,” Castiel said, his voice emotionless. “Leave it alone, Dean. You are married. You should leave it alone.”
“I’m not married.” Dean bit out savagely, ramming his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
Castiel stilled, his pulse pounding in his ears. “What?”
“I was. But she met her soul mate two years ago. Fate, I guess. They touched, and their soul mark appeared.” Dean shrugged. “She asked me for a divorce. I couldn’t say no.”
“Dean. God. I’m sorry.”
“So I moved across the country to escape that little situation.” Dean grinned wryly. “And here you are.”
Castiel pressed a hand to his brow. “I’m not… I don’t…”
Dean’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage here, Cas. Just a chance, y’know? A chance to give this a shot.”
Castiel still hesitated. “I’m not interesting, Dean. I’m not the life of the party. I’m not into football, let alone adventure sports. I like reading. I like drinking tea. I like…” He searched for something more that might put Dean off. The very thought of him terrified Castiel. “…I like black and white movies.”
Dean laughed softly. “What kind of impression do you have of me, Cas?”
“Uh… that.”
“That was me in college, sure.” Dean shrugged. “Sure, I still like watching football, but my dream was to do what I’m doing now, not to play for some major league team. Football paid my way through my degree, so I had to play. And I don’t regret that. It was a lot of fun. But I grew up. Most people do. College doesn’t last past graduation.”
Castiel shifted. “I suppose…”
“A chance?” Dean held out his hand.
Castiel gave a hesitant smile. “A chance.” He put his hand in Dean’s.
A year and a half later…
Dean lay back on the couch, dozing. Castiel leaned back against him, reading a journal article Dean had submitted a few months past and was finally being published.
“This is amazing,” Castiel spoke for the first time in the half hour it took him to finish the article. “I’m so proud of you.”
He felt Dean kiss the top of his head and say, “You helped, you know.”
“It was your theory. Your research,” Castiel insisted. “You need to make this the topic of your doctoral thesis.”
He felt Dean’s rumble of uncertainty. Castiel laid aside the journal and wriggled around so he could meet Dean’s gaze. He crossed his arms over Dean’s torso and leaned his chin on his forearms.
“I will support whatever you decide. I’m proud of you either way.”
Dean’s fingers traced the line of his jaw. “Thanks. I love you, y’know.”
Castiel smiled. “I love you too.” He lifted his chin enough to extract a hand so he could touch the soul mark that was still bright and clear on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m glad it was you.”
“I’m glad you gave me a chance.”
“Marry me?” Castiel asked softly.
Dean’s smile was beautiful. “Definitely.”