For Whom the Bell Tolls

Grand Piano

"Hi, I'm Michael."

The bell chimes and Castiel finds himself looking into deep blue eyes set on a quite handsome face. The man across the table smiles confidently and asks his name. 

"Castiel. Nice to meet you. So, what do you find interesting in your life?"

Castiel can't believe he's actually doing this. Damn Gabriel for his good intentions laced with a perverted sense of humor. For a reason that completely escapes Castiel's notions, his brother is convinced to act as a matchmaker for 'the hopeless excuse of a single man,' as he keeps describing him. No matter how patiently Castiel tries to point out that he is content with being single, Gabriel keeps doing this. First, it was just innocent invitations for a beer or a movie and before Castiel realized what had happened, he was seated by some unfortunate individual with Gabriel vanishing to the background. It was an uncomfortable situation to be in while Gabriel was having the time of his life somewhere in the background.

Things took a turn to the left when he got an assignment to a venison class. An actual venison class, for the love of God. Turned out that Gabriel had bought him the place in order to pair him with an acquaintance of his. Castiel was annoyed when he realized it, but ended up going out with the woman anyway, just to be polite. He couldn't say who was happier when that awkward dinner was over. After that, he made quite clear that he was a) not interested in hooking up with Gabriel's friends, and, b) in fact, gay. Neither argument seemed to slow his brother down at all.

But this. This really was something else.

”—and after that, I finally got the position I wanted. Being Senior Manager of Marketing is as high as I can get in this firm at my age, so now I mainly concentrate in networking and harvesting all the money I can get. How about you?"

"Huh?" Castiel says. He must have spaced out and therefore has absolutely no idea whatsoever what Michael was talking about.

Michael frowns. "I just gave you 'My life 101,' and was asking about yours. So, what do you do for a living?"

"Sorry." Castiel mumbles. "I've had a hectic week and my mind was wandering." Michael looks affronted but says nothing. "I, um, own my own business."

Michael's eyes light up with interest. "Really? What sort of a business?" 

"Nothing big, an antique shop. I concentrate mainly on small furniture and books."

"Oh... that sounds... different." Michael's face is a polite mask. Apparently, an antique shop isn't that appealing for a Senior Manager of Marketing, but Castiel really couldn't care less. He is happy with his business and the smell of books and history of old furniture surrounding him. Too bad if some marketing guy didn't like it.

The bell chimes.

 ***

Reed And Pipe Organ

"Hi!" pipes a bright voice. Castiel looks down and sees a grinning young woman with orange hair. Her smile is infectious and Castiel responds in kind without a beat.

"Hello. I'm Castiel." He bites his lip but decides to just go with it. "I should probably warn you straight away that I'm only here because of my obnoxious brother. It seems I'm 'terribly dull, have no hobbies, and harbor an unhealthy interest in musty books.' His words, not mine."

"Way to sell yourself," the woman laughs. "I'm Charlie, have no interest in men, and am only here as a moral support." She grins mischievously. "My friend got conned into this by his brother and sis-in-law, and I promised to act as his safe way out if he fixes my car. So here I am." She looks around and rolls her eyes. "A really smashing party here. What's the thing with the bell?"

Castiel shrugs. "The agency manager said it's a timer that announces when we're supposed to move to our next date. There is only a handful of minutes between chimes, and we're meant to give an 'unforgettable introduction of ourselves' in that short time. Works tremendously well, I should say," he adds dryly.

Words come surprisingly easy, although Charlie is a complete stranger. Usually people find him too gruff or downright impolite, and it's too tedious to try and fix their misjudgment. So Castiel does not. Customers don't come to his shop to chat or socialize, they come to buy or look for something. And it's easy to do small talk with buyers because there is always a reason, a subject to discuss. But non-work-related small talk, that's exhausting. People have these ridiculous norms of what to ask and how to react, and honestly it's very tiring to keep up. Castiel has never been fluent in reading others, and, for that reason, he keeps finding himself in awkward situations due to his complete inadequacy with body language.

"You might want to work with your one-liners though," Charlie comments. "'An unhealthy interest in musty books' sticks in mind, but it might also raise some unwanted attention."

"I'd rather get no attention at all." 

Charlie waves her hand. "Oh shoo. You're a good-looking guy and obviously not an idiot—even I can vouch for that, no matter how much I like pussy."

Castiel raises a brow to that, but Charlie just smiles sweetly. It's a bit disturbing to hear such a crude word from someone who looks like a scout girl. Or maybe scout girls are the worst. Gabriel would know—not that Castiel is ever going to ask him that. He's got some self-preservation left, thank you very much.

They chat nonsense until the bell chimes. Charlie grins and gives him some sign with her right hand, forming a v-shape between her middle and ring fingers. Castiel smiles back and shakes his head fondly.

 ***

Glockenspiel

The first thing Castiel notices is the eyes. They are huge, a bit worried and quite tired. The owner of said eyes is a petite red-haired woman who looks like she could use a week of deep sleep. Castiel feels sorry for her. A speed date event doesn't seem a place where she's supposed to be.

"Hello. How are you? You look a bit tired," Castiel offers, before realizing what comes out of his mouth. Real smooth. 

The eyes get even bigger. The woman takes a deep breath and huffs. "Got a quadruple espresso tucked in your pocket? I could really use it. I had a horror week at work, a near-violent row with my ex, and my daughter just entered her terrible two's. So yeah, I might look a bit ruffled." 

She looks like she's going to burst into tears. Castiel feels uncomfortable and self-conscious and has no idea what to say. This is a perfect example of a situation where he is so out of his depth that he's basically diving into the Mariana Trench. He stares at the woman and tries desperately find some consoling words to offer. He finds none, so he offers her his cloth handkerchief instead.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't bother you with the downsides of my life," she says and blows her nose on Castiel's handkerchief. "Not that it's all bad. My daughter is the light of my life, it's just this phase, you know? She's usually so sweet and behaves as well as a toddler can, but this week has been utter hell. Might be because I'm so tired doing extra hours at work, or because she's been spending more time with her father. Who is an asshole, by the way. One might think a man would like to spend time with his daughter without a threat of a new court case—” She stops and huffs out a watery laugh. "I'm sorry. Again. I don't know why I'm here."

Castiel doesn't have kids of his own and, as far as he's aware, Gabriel has had enough sense to use protection against producing new life with any of his multiple adventures. Castiel has no other siblings and none of his few friends has children, so he's got zero experience with how to handle kids or how to even talk to them. He finds children slightly apprehensive especially in his shop—they are so unpredictable, noisy and small. Usually he tries to avoid them at all costs because it's easier. So far it's worked out just fine.

"I ruined your hankie," the woman says apologetically. 

"No matter, you can have it," Castiel says.

An uneasy silence falls with both of them waiting for the bell to chime. When it does, Castiel realizes he didn't even ask her name.

 ***

Base Guitar

Castiel's feet hurt. He's been doing an inventory in his shop, which means a lot of standing and walking around and not enough sitting. The speed date event is held at a bar with high tables which means more standing and walking around and no sitting down at all. He winces and shifts on his legs, closing his eyes for a second.

"Long day, brother?" 

Castiel opens his eyes and looks up to a bear of a man with an open, nice face and an easy smile. He breaths deep and groans. "Yes."

The man huffs a laugh. "Not a talkative fellow, are you? Name's Benny. Why don't you humor me and tell me why you are here, hmm?"

Castiel considers a second. Why not? 

"My brother is adamantly trying to find me a life partner or at least trying to get me laid. He is convinced that there is something profoundly wrong with me since I don't sleep around like he does. He's tried to pair me with someone, anyone, for years now. He's never been subtle about it but this... this is quite something, even from him." Annoyance bleeds into his words.

Benny chuckles. "This ain't so bad. I'm actually enjoying myself somewhat."

Castiel gives him a flat stare. "You cannot seriously claim you find this event enjoyable. We are being paraded in a circle with a bell chiming time while trying to appear sexually appealing. It's like a cattle market, but with fewer flies."

He is awarded with a hearty laugh that causes quite a few fellow daters glancing their direction. "You do speak your mind. That's refreshing."

"Thank you." There is something very warm and thoroughly friendly about Benny, and Castiel gives him a small smile. "I was being serious though. This gathering is not something I would voluntarily choose to participate."

Benny's face is pensive. "Well, you never know. Sometimes you'll find what you're looking for when you're not looking for it, brother."

"Who says I'm looking?" Castiel snorts.

"Ain't you?"

The question is startling in its sincerity. Looking? How would he even know where to start or what to look? His shop isn't exactly busting with potential romantic partners and he seldom takes interest in night life. Besides, he's never been into one-night-stands. They can be pleasant enough, but he would like his hook-up to be more than a nice ass or a pretty face. On the other hand, he values his privacy, has practically no life outside his shop, and generally dislikes people. That tends to lower the odds of one's love life.

He shrugs. "To tell you the truth, I haven't given it much thought."

It's not whole truth, though. Castiel does wonder at times, contemplates how it would be to have someone. It used to be a more tender issue when he was in his twenties, but he's learned to accept his solitude. Having a mentally five-year-old big brother does help. And if the loneliness starts to mess with his head, he could always get a cat, you know.

Benny's smile is warm. "Maybe you should think about it, brother." 

He's so lost in thoughts that he misses the bell.

 ***

Double Speed Guitar

"Oh, this is so exciting! Have you speed dated before? This is my seventh time and I'm just as thrilled as I was the first time. This is a different agency, though, but I'm not sure it counts. And speaking of counting, did you know this thing, speed dating, is getting more and more popular? I just read it on the agency's website. I like their website, it's so beautiful and well organized. Do you like popular things like tv-shows? Not that every tv-show is popular, I mean like really popular, as How I Met Your Mother -popular? Did you know it's called HIMYM? Does it spell like 'hi mom'? It should 'cause it makes so much sense. Have you met anyone interesting yet? I like speed dating 'cause it gives so many opportunities to meet new people. You know it's possible to have fifteen new contacts during a single speed date event? Oh no, I forgot, I'm Becky. I'm a bit nervous 'cause you are really handsome and your eyes are really blue—”

Castiel can't help but to gape at the obviously mentally challenged female in front of him. He didn't know it was humanly possible to talk that much without passing out. When does the woman breathe? And how? She—Bettie? Becky?—keeps on chatting like a machine while Castiel stares her, dumbfounded. There is a flush on her cheeks and a glint in her eyes that Castiel finds a bit manic and frightening.

"You seem like a very nice girl Becky, but I'm gay. I'm sorry," he hastily says when Becky finally draws breath. Her rambling falters slightly, but she doesn't stop. Castiel can feel a headache building behind his eyes.

"You are gay? That's so cool! I've never had a gay friend. You know, the one thing Sex and The City taught us is that every girl has to have a gay friend. It's, like, you are our fashion conscience or something? Do you work in fashion? You must 'cause there's no way you could look like that unless you have something to do with fashion. Who cuts your hair anyway? It looks gorgeous! I bet it takes you ages every morning to model it to look like you just got out of bed. Can you recommend me some products, like shampoo or—”

It turns out to be the longest five minutes in Castiel's life.

 ***

Two Slightly Distorted Guitars

Dear Lord in Heaven, how many more?

"Crowley, at your service. Have we met before?"

Castiel is pretty sure they have not. There is something disturbing about the man, although he cannot pinpoint exactly what. Maybe something in his slightly narrowed eyes or his soft voice that makes his spine shiver in totally not-nice way.

"I'm afraid not. I'm sure I would remember," he answers politely enough.

"Are you certain? Because I think I saw someone just like you last weekend at The Halo. And I wouldn't forget a... face like yours." Crowley's smile doesn't reach his eyes.

The Halo? "Yes, I'm quite certain. I've never visited it." ...and never will, Castiel adds in his mind. He's comfortable with his sexual orientation but has no wish to go to a place like The Halo. That place would be his worst nightmare, an absolute Hell, where a writhing mass of semi-nude human flesh rubs itself into oblivion night after night after night. Castiel shudders. 

"Shame," Crowley purrs. "I'd like to take you there someday. I've got a private table where nobody would disturb us—unless we'd want them to." The smile is lazy and unpleasant. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

Castiel has no reason to withhold his name, as much as he would like to. "Castiel, pleased to meet you, sir." The honorific falls out without asking and Castiel is dismayed to notice the flash of pleasure in Crowley's eyes it earns.

"Castiel..." Crowley's oily voice slips around his name. "Named after an angel, are you? Fascinating."

Castiel is a bit surprised. Usually people find his name odd but before Crowley, no one had actually known its origin. He and Gabriel both have angelic names due to a fleeting moment of religious spur their parents had had years back. Gabriel has used his name as an advantage in every way imaginable, especially if there was even a slight possibility of romance involved. Castiel hasn't really seen any point in that. He feels a relationship should base on something else than a curiosity of one's name. Gabriel, as usual, calls him a prude.

Crowley is looking at him and for Castiel, it's like he's under a microscope. It's an unpleasant feeling and he can't escape a sense that he's being evaluated. For what, he has no idea.

"How about a deal?" Crowley asks. 

Castiel starts. "Pardon?"

"A deal. I buy you a dinner and an evening at The Halo, no strings attached, and afterwards you can tell me how you liked it." Crowley smiles.

"I don't think that counts as a deal," says Castiel, feeling uncomfortable.

Crowley's eyes glint. "Oh, I think it does."

Castiel shifts minutely on his feet. He could pretend it's because his feet are aching but in truth, he would very, very much like to switch to the next date, please.

The bell doesn't chime a bit too soon.

 ***

Mandolin

"So... have you met any nice guys yet?" a widely grinning blonde greets him by the next table. She's a wiry little thing with a flowing hair and steel in her eyes. Castiel has no clue why she would be in a place like this but wishes all the best for any guy who crosses her.

He smiles hesitantly. "I'm Castiel. How's your evening?"

She snorts. "I'm Jo and don't you worry about me. I can handle myself and I know for sure that you're not after my tail. My gaydar's never been wrong," she winks.

"Your what?" Castiel inquires, baffled.

"Gaydar. You know, gay and radar, hence gaydar. And boy, you're blinking like a Christmas tree."

Castiel harrumphs and isn't sure whether to be amused or offended. He decides to be intrigued instead. "That obvious, huh?" 

Jo just grins.

He's never paid it any attention. He's always known he is gay, and, contrary to his fears, his parents didn't actually give a damn. He was a good son, never gave a reason to fuss, never had any exciting experiments or never slept around. On second thought, after Gabriel, there really wasn't anything left to shock their parents with. If anything, Gabriel had always been very thorough.

"You didn't answer me, Castiel," Jo complains with an exaggerated I'm-a-hurt-little-girl pout. "I asked if you'd met any nice guys yet. Sure there's been at least a few you fancy. So, spill the beans. How about that one?" She points at Michael.

Castiel snorts. "That one? A self-righteous ass, who thinks that best things in life are a fat bank account and a title you cannot fit on your business card."

Jo gives a sparkling laugh. "Ouch, you're mean! Well, how about that?" She points at another dater.

"I didn't meet him, but I overheard him proclaiming paper books are practically extinct and e-books are the only rational way to preserve information. As an owner of an antique shop specialized in old books I find the notion outrageously stupid."

They keep going back and forth, changing bits of information they know and making them up if they don't. Castiel is surprised to note he's actually enjoying himself.

He's still arguing with Jo when he hears the bell.

 ***

Spanish Guitar and Introducing Acoustic Guitar

The man who suavely walks towards him is the living embodiment of gay. From his perfectly groomed hair to trimmed beard to snug v-necked shirt to very fitting jeans. He looks Castiel from head to toe and greets, "Hello to you, handsome." His voice is a sensual drawl with a distinct British accent. 

Castiel is confused. What an earth is a man like that doing in an event like this? Either he must have said it out loud or it's written on his face, since the man smirks and comments airily, "I'm far away from home, lonely and horny as hell. Might just as well check what this town has to offer." He winks. "I'm Balthazar."

"Castiel," Castiel answers, a bit flustered. Balthazar's flirting is so blatantly obvious that even he gets it.

"Charming," Balthazar murmurs. "So, Cassy—mind if I call you Cassy? Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"No, I don't." His throat feels a bit tight and dry. He coughs lightly and gulps some water from his neglected glass. Balthazar's gaze falls to his lips and his grin turns wolfish.

"Well. I'm only here for this week and then traveling back home. I'm stressed and would very much like to feel a bit more... relaxed when I'm back with my hubby."

"You are in a relationship?" Castiel cannot keep the incredulity from his voice.

"Why yes. Oh, don't give me that look, Cassy. Humans are not meant to be monogamous as a race, we're just not built like that. Besides, what he doesn't know can't hurt him, right?" Balthazar smiles languidly and sips his drink. "So, shall we?"

He's not a lovesick teenage girl who believes happily ever afters, but to meet a person who is completely at ease with his infidelity is sort of a revelation. And not necessarily a nice one. Castiel feels a sudden urge to shake the man and tell him to grow a pair, but he doesn't. He has no knowledge of Balthazar's relationship—maybe they have an agreement. Castiel doesn't understand, but he gathers he really doesn't have to. He's always been strictly monogamous and proud of it. 

"I don't think I would be comfortable with that," Castiel comments slowly. "What you do with your own life is a decision between you and your... hubby, but be as it may, I want no part in a potentially hurtful endeavor."

Balthazar just smiles and shrugs, and doesn't seem even a bit fazed about Castiel's obvious reproach. He downs his drink and moves on. 

The bell chimes. Castiel checks the time and is relieved when he notices that the event is almost over. He hears warm chuckle, glances up and—

 ***

Tubular Bells

"Something in my hair?"

"Wh—what?" Castiel stutters. He's staring at the brightest, greenest eyes he's ever seen in his entire life.

"Dude, you stare." There's a slight frown between the green eyes, but the face looks amused. 

"I apologize," he hastily offers and blushes. 

Blushes. 

Castiel never blushes. What on earth is happening?  There's something about the man that makes Castiel's breath hitch and his head spin. Might be his crooked smile, his deep voice, his broad shoulders or his hands that look like—

”—pie. You?"

Castiel realizes that while lost in his musings, he missed the question.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that, please?"

The face is annoyed now and Castiel fervently prefers amusement over annoyance.

"We were instructed to tell each other about things that interest us, remember? So, classic cars, good books, and pie. How about you, what makes you tick?"

Castiel stares and gets an eye-roll back. 

"...right." The man grumbles something inaudible under his breath. Castiel thinks he can hear 'waste of time' and 'kill Sam' but is not sure. He's desperately trying to find something to say.

"Coffee!" He suddenly blurts.

"Coffee," the man repeats slowly. "...Ok, coffee is nice. Black, no sugar."

Castiel almost groans out loud, exasperated at his own sudden inability to form intelligent sentences. For God's sake, he is thirty-four and should be able to speak by now.

"No... I mean, yes. I like coffee... but I wanted to ask if you would like to have some? Coffee, I mean. With me."

The amusement is back with a grin that makes the corners of the green eyes wrinkle. Castiel thinks it suits him very well indeed.

"Sure. I'll just let my friend know. She's sort of my wing-man and beard, just in case, you know?”

Castiel has no idea what the man is talking about, but he doesn't give a flying fuck. He lets his gaze linger in the broad back and outrageously delicious ass while the man turns to look for his friend. It seems he found what he was looking for when he waves his right hand held funny... oh. It's the same wave Charlie used when saying goodbye to Castiel. This must be that friend of hers, the conned big brother/brother-in-law. The man turns back to Castiel and raises a brow when he catches him looking.

Castiel coughs lightly. "You don't look like a type in need of moral support."

The man looks at him quizzically.

"You are the friend Charlie mentioned. I met her earlier and she said she's here as a moral support for a friend who was grievously conned to participate. She used that hand signal, and I have no clue what it means."  

"Oh," the man laughs. "She's a nerd. Likes to use geeky signals and stuff. That was a Trekkie reference, 'Live long and prosper'." Castiel stares. "...Trekkie? Star Trek? Spock and shit? ...you've got no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Sorry, no," Castiel answers, a bit sheepish.

"Fuck. You're like... forty and have zero knowledge of Star Trek. Have you been living under a rock or something?"

Castiel bristles a little until he notices his date's lips twitch. Oh, a joke then.

"Man, you're in serious need of education. I'm Dean. Wanna bust out now?"

The man—Dean—reaches his hand out to Castiel and arches his brow. "Dude, the coffee. You comin' or what?"

Suddenly Castiel is very, very nervous. He chews his lip a bit and can't quite meet Dean's eyes. He's never done this, picked up a guy after a couple minutes of awkward conversation. But there's this commanding pull in his chest and burning feeling in his gut, and he can't help it. He looks Dean in the eye and his insides turn into warm goo.

Dean rolls his eyes and grabs his hand. "You asked me, remember? Now, let's get going."

He zigzags Castiel out of the bar and Castiel readily follows. Dean hails a cab and while he opens the door he leans to Castiel and whispers, "I noticed you as soon as you walked in. You looked like you wanted to smite anyone who dared to approach you and I knew right away that I wanted to meet you. I was jealous of every person who spoke to you and I was afraid you might want to leave with someone before I got to you. I'm glad you didn't."

Castiel enthusiastically agrees. 

The next morning finds Castiel curled in his bed, a hand around his waist and a warm body behind him. Memories from the previous night make him blush and smile fondly. He turns around and indulges himself with the gorgeous sight that is naked Dean snoring lightly.

It seems Gabriel might have been right for once.