Wᴇ ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs Uɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜʀғᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ ( closed )

[righteously]

WHO: Various!
WHERE: The Aerie
WHEN: July 2512 (November 2020)
WHAT: Consolidated Event Threads
NOTES OR WARNINGS: extreme violence, angst, adult language, potentially explicit content.

fake cut real link

Comments

[righteously]

[ He watches Castiel's expression with easy and loose amusement, settling in on a bar stool and bracing a forearm against the bar almost immediately. It's not a bad start, all things considered, even if he is the nerdiest looking guy in the joint. ]

Maybe a quarter mile that direction.

[ He agrees with a little nod in the general westward vicinity. ]

Not quite as pretty to look at as your neighborhood, but it ain't bad.

[ Considering where he came from and all. Single mom supporting the two of them didn't exactly make for the best digs. ]

[unwings]

[ he's definitely the nerdiest looking guy in the joint, he's full on in a sweater with a collar poking out the top, he may as well have a pocket protector. the obviously out of place look doesn't seem to bother him, though, and cas slides into the stool next to dean, watching the people a couple seats over for a brief few seconds before focusing his attention entirely on dean. ]

It may be pretty, but it's lifeless.

[ now that they're outside of work, the air of professional distance and impassivity is dropped. some things he isn't as willing to voice inside the Company building, and up until dean winchester and his aggressive flirting, romantic entanglements was one. we've already crossed that line and broken that personal rule, may as well go all in. where he lives is a matter of circumstance around his birth, and survival in a cut-throat society. not personal choice.

watching dean with a sidelong, studying gaze, cas takes in the ease of him in the environment, the casual way he fits in with the color and noise and activity. ]

Do you like it better here?

[righteously]

Yup.

( Casually but confidently, not a speck of doubt in that declaration. He glances over at the bartender — he's here often enough that the guy knows what Dean drinks, so he just holds up two fingers. The bartender nods, and he turns his attention back to Cas. The whole interaction takes maybe two seconds tops, seamless. )

Like you said, man, it's so freakin' lifeless the closer you get to the Volary. Everything's... artificial. Even the people.

( It's spoken with the vibe that he's got first-hand experience in it, more than just interacting with Cas. )

[unwings]

[ eyes skip between dean and the bartender, noting the casual interaction, and cas attempts a flicker of a polite, if stiff, smile. dean's assessment isn't off, and while it isn't a very optimistic sentiment, it's one he shares. ]

We're told scaling Parliament should be our life's goal. Nothing said of what's at the top.

[ besides power and immortality, which, looking at cardinals like odinson and strange, castiel doubts that's quite as fulfilling as everyone hopes. certainly hasn't improved the character of anyone he's seen advance that far, and reaching magpie hasn't felt any better than where cas had been before. only more exposed, judged closer. all that standing, it's interesting that dean put so much effort to get him on this date. ]

So, why pursue me?

[ asked with genuine curiosity. cas doesn't consider himself much different from one of those artificial people born in a more central ring, climbing that social ladder with all the other upper class automatons. perhaps more self-aware, but the result's the same, isn't it? ]

[righteously]

( By the way Dean shakes his head, it's clear he's got some opinions about scaling parliament. He keeps them to himself, it ain't exactly good first date talk.

Why pursue me?

His eyes track over Cas for a second in a way that's surprisingly not lecherous. Like he's picking up little details, like he's seeing through something. )

You're different.

( Mild but decisive. The bartender drops off two tall glasses of amber beer; Dean wraps his hand around one out of sheer habit. His attention's still on Cas, unwavering. )

You don't get down on your knees for them... And you're not a douche. Most people trying to climb the ladder act like they're better than the people around them, but you don't.

( Which isn't to say he doesn't act like an asshole at all, he just does it for the right reasons when he needs to. That's pretty cohesive with Dean's own brand.

And, since this has gotten a little too serious, he tacks on; )

Plus, the quiet ones are always total freaks in the sack.

[unwings]

[ you're different. something about the statement hits him somewhere soft and vulnerable, startling in how deeply it touches him. a certain self-loathing has lived in him for as long as he's recognized his station and privilege about the rest of the aerie, from as young as childhood. cas thinks it's more the guilt or shame dean's picking up on than anything that makes him special, but all the same, it's flattering, and sweet, that he sees him in such a forgiving light. ]

That's, um. Thank you. [ a touch flustered, and cas ducks his head, smiling sheepish but happy. he distracts himself with grabbing for his beer, turning the glass in his hands absently. ] I don't. Think I'm any better, I mean. Worse, if anything.

[ but he doesn't expand on that. they're here for a date, not unpacking castiel's baggage, and the grin freaks in the sack brings to him is much brighter, far less hidden. the laugh that bubbles up is natural and light, cas shooting dean a sidelong look with one suggestively quirked eyebrow. ]

Well, perhaps if you win our bet, you'll find out.

[ a smirk flashes before bringing his glass to his lips, muffling it. castiel's never been that frivolous about sex, maybe doesn't require love for it, exactly, but he's not one for one night stands or casual hook ups. maybe a couple times in his 20s, but he's older now.

the music changes to the next track, and cas straightens up, looking past dean at the other patrons, a couple standing in the aisle between tables and bar stools, arms looped around waists and shoulders, swaying side to side while beaming at one another. they look happy, contented. ]

Do they dance here?

[righteously]

( There's a lot he could say about being worse. A lot more he can say about that bet, except that it brings him up just a little short. Throws him off his game for a second, flustered, but then he's right back in. )

Sometimes.

( He agrees with a noncommittal shrug, glancing over at the dancing couple. )

You put on the right slow song, or you pass out enough shots.

( And then back to Cas with a pointedly arched eyebrow. Why? You plan on asking? )

[unwings]

[ cas nearly misses the pointedly arched brow, watching the couple casually swaying with a soft, whisper of a smile. there isn't a lot of openly expressed affection and happiness in the Volary, or the Cotillion, or the Company. it's stiff, cold. this place is warm - human.

but cas blinks back in time to catch it, looking a little like bambi in the headlights as he realizes the spot he'd just put himself in. uuuuh. maybe? ]

I, um. I think more shots are in order. [ his attention drags back down to the glass in front of him, murmuring before taking a sip from it. ] Before that.

[ it seems sweet, a simple and easy form of casual intimacy. cas is a little envious of the freedom the people here have in connecting and enjoying each other, but he's not exactly a dancer. he's an academic, raised by strict, harsh parents, who did not often hold hands or snuggle or, god forbid, dance - slow or otherwise. maybe he'd feel silly doing it, maybe he just needs more alcohol in his blood first. ]