badluck: (cas!lost)
[personal profile] badluck
Title: Don't Walk Away (Then Turn and Say I Love You Anyway.)
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Cas pre-slash into slash, Cas/Michael, brief Dean/Lisa
Rating: PG-13, mainly for Dean's potty mouth.
Summary: Based off of the Bollywood film I Hate Luv Storys. Dean is the assistant to the director of the world's worst romantic films (according to him that is.) Castiel is the art director with the perfect life. And then they're forced to work together.

AN: Title comes from the Stars song "Romantic Comedy." Yes, I could not resist. Deal with it.


Titanic, the English Patient, hell, Pretty goddamned Woman.

Know what these movies have in common? They're fucking stupid, that's what. The story is stupid, the actors are stupid, the sets are stupid, the people who watch them are stupid and most importantly, the people who work on them are stupid. Which makes me king of the dumbfucks then. Yeah me. Dean Winchester, is working on a Gabriel Messanger flick. As his assistant no less. The man who makes James Cameron weep tears that he didn't stick with time traveling robots. Fuck what I said before. I'm clearly the emperor of the dipshits. If Liberachi complains that it's too over the top? Gabe thinks it's just not trying hard enough. Man is batshit loco. But people eat his shit up like candy. Which keeps me in a resume building job, just until I can get the chance to direct my own movie. Which will not be a bullshit dramatic wankfest. It will be quality shit. Quality.

Anyway. Why do I think everything about this genre is stupid? 'Cause love is stupid. It's not even real. It's just something people are told is real so that movie studios executives can buy themselves the latest yacht model that year.

Love isn't expensive clothes or ridiculous looking sets or even neverending monologues. Writers and Directors make up this shit so you'll feel like there is something missing in your life and you need these movies to tell you what it is.

I know for a fact that love doesn't exist. Which is why my life is awesome. Except for the whole making stupid shit for crazy people part...


One of my favorite things in the world is the romantic story. Epic sagas, Sweet comedies, books, fairy tales, comics, tv shows, all of it is beautiful to me. Watching someone glow with feelings too big to hold inside, the heartbreak of intentional or accidental rejection, the joining of two souls in perfect connection and harmony? Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. As an art director, I try to impart that beauty in every set I design, but it's the love storys that inspire me the most.

I also draw inspiration from my own love story. Michael and I have been together since we were children. Our parents are best friends and we were inseparable as children and grew into lovers. He's wonderful, kind, so loving and supportive of everything. Making him as happy as he had made my life exactly the way I had always imagined it would be is just as important as living my dream. Michael was my dream.

Getting the opportunity to work with one the most influential and respected directors in Hollywood was another dream come true for me, in a life that was already perfect. I had the perfect job, the perfect family, the perfect fiancé, the perfect life. Everything was just... Perfect.


Fucking Gabriel and his pint sized douchy midget ass. "Go see Anna Milton's movie. We're considering her for the role of Sarah and I want your thoughts on how she handles herself on screen." My ass. That stupid little smirk should have clued me in to the gigantic set up this was. Man's as subtle as a coyote trying to bag a roadrunner. Fucking Gabriel and his stupid ass romcom obsession.

Fuck America too, and it's goddamn need to dress up verbal and visual torture in bright colors and call it 'entertainment.' 'Course the goddamn movie is nearly sold out. There was only one seat left in the fuckin place. Next to some bored looking dude. There was a semi-cute chick next to him, which could only mean a kindred spirit in the cause against the epic sap. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, after all, mocking movies is always better when you have someone to appreciate your running commentary.

Decision made, I plopped down into the seat next to the guy and smiled my best non-flirty smile at him. "So what do you get in exchange for her making you sit through this? Please tell me it's flexible and or kinky."

"Pardon me?" The guy turned to face me and fuckass, did his eyes glow in the dark or what? No one's eyes should be that blue or visible in a darkened theater. Just sayin'.

"Your girl." I pointed to the girl sitting next to him who was currently ignoring us in favor of the latest Not-Pixar cartoon movie trailer. Friggin' waste of pixels if you ask me. "I just wanted to know what you were getting out of seeing this crap. My name's Dean by the way." I offered my hand for him to shake. Dude really didn't need to stare at it like it was covered in some sort of pus-fungus before shaking my hand though. Totally uncalled for.

"Castiel. And I don't know that woman. I'm here on my own." He turned back to the screen, and damn, that was just way too much information for me to process at once. Obviously, I would need to focus on the important things.

"Castiel? Shit, really? Did your parents want you dead or something?"

If dudes were cats? This guy's back would have been touching the ceiling the way he bristled. Yeah, that might not have been the nicest thing to say to the person you were going to spend the next two hours sitting next to, but can you blame me? It really is a weird name.

"If you really must know, not that I have any reason to explain it to you, I happen to be named after an angel."

And here I was thinking shit couldn't get weirder. "An angel huh? Lemme guess, all your brothers are angels too right? Big brothers Michael and Raphael? Grooming their fluffy wings on puffy clouds." Seriously, do people really believe in that kind of stuff?

Castiel just blinked at me. "I have no siblings. Michael is my fiancé. Now if you don't mind? I would really like to see this movie now."

Oh fuck me. He really was here for the movie. I could see my hopes of living it up Tom Servo style floating away in the ether of cheesy dialogue. "Seriously?!" I hissed at him. Hey at least I was trying to whisper! "You willingly paid money to see this? We're in a recession you know."

Castiel sighed with impatience before facing me again. "Yes. I enjoy all kinds of movies. And I should also point out that you are also here willingly and I am assuming, of course, that you also paid to get in. I could be mistaken about that though."

Ha! He thought he was so smug. I was a tiny bit insulted that he accused me of sneaking into a movie. Especially one as stupid as this! Obviously, I needed to up my creds a bit with this guy.

"I was forced to come here against my own free will. You know Gabriel Messanger?"

"Of course, he's a brilliant director." Oh fucking gag me.

"Yeah, whatever. Maybe if brilliant is a nicer way of saying batshit insane. The dude is coco for cocoa puffs. Swear to God, someone must have dropped him on his head way too many times as a kid and hoped no one noticed." I continued ranting for a bit on my heartfelt opinions on the mental state of my boss, so it took me a minute or two to notice that I no longer had an audience. Castiel had vacated his seat and ducked out the opposite aisle from where I was sitting. Well shitfuck. I probably really offended him or something.

Being the gentleman that I am? And not at all looking for a reason to avoid the rest of the waste of perfectly good film, I also vacated my seat and ran out of the theater after him to apologize. Hey, at least I'm aware that I have dick-ish tendencies.

"Hey! Hey Castiel!" I called out after catching sight of him near the concessions stand. In my opinion, the stiffening up and throwing me a dirty look over his shoulder was completely unnecessary. "Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for whatever I said. I have a big mouth sometimes. It's okay to come back in the theater now. I promise to only trash talk about the movie from here on out. Scout's Honor." And wow. I didn't think that dirty look could get worse. He just glared at me for a few more seconds, before turning around and stalking out of the theater.

Whatever. Dude was uptight anyway.


The next morning, I overslept and was late for work. Really, you'd think someone would just adjust my hours by now. It's not like I missed anything important anyway. Just Gabe's wild gesturing around the conference table and his announcement that only boring movies take place in New York so we're going to be un-boring and film in New Zealand. The magical place of sheep and elves. How romantic.

"Hey! Winchester!" That smug irritating voice could only belong to my boss. Only.

"Yeah Gabe?" Please let it be nothing, please let it be nothing, please let it be nothing.

"Need to ask you a few things. My office. Like say, now." I've seen porn set ups with less annoying dialogue. But pride can and will take a back seat to a paycheck and, more importantly, my resume. So I followed him into his office like a good little soldier. Sir yes sir.

Gabe's office looks exactly how you'd imagine a raging douchemonster's office to look like. Lots of glass walls, the better to see you all fucking up my dear, framed posters of his most recent movies, upgraded every so often to be just as current as his IMDb page, giant desk that's probably bigger than he is, covered in potential scripts, notes, detailed instructions on the best way to torture my psyche...

"So Winchester," He smirked at me from behind his desk, feet obviously resting on top of some poor bastard's life work or something. "You really don't like my movies do you?"

Oh I knew way better than to answer that one honestly. "What? Pfft. They're great man, seriously, art and shit."

"Please, don't try to bullshit the master bullshitter. Or am I supposed to believe that eye-rolling is a sign of respect in your culture?" Well, he did have me there. But the way he said that with a that evil gleam in his eye was making me nervous. Especially when he continued to talk. "I know your type Winchester. Macho macho alpha male is too big and tough to work on a romantic film with icky feelings in it. Right? You have no appreciation for my work. There is absolutely no reason for me to even bother keeping you around, not when there are plenty of college graduates gagging for the chance to bring me coffee twenty four hours a day."

Fuck. I started to open my mouth to beg for my job. Just because it was a shitty movie didn't mean I didn't want to be here. Getting fired from this job pretty much guaranteed I wouldn't work in movies beyond porn sets ever again. But before I could argue in my favor, Gabe continued to talk over me.

"But you know what?" He said with a smirk, tucking his hands behind his head and his feet still on top of his ridiculously expensive custom worked desk, completely ruining whatever it was under his feet. "For some unfathomable reason, I like you kid. You've got buckets of attitude, but that's not a bad thing. We just need to reign you in. And I know exactly how to do it."

On the one hand, oh thank fuck I'm not fired. On the other hand, Gabe is a crafy shitty asshole and while I wasn't fired, I knew I wasn't going to like where this was going.

"I'm transferring you over to the art department. You're going to be in charge of properties."

FUCK! I knew I was going to get dicked over. Properties were the shit that made up movie sets. The little nicknacks that made a character's room look lived in. And this is a romantic movie. Which means lots of girly shit to buy. From stores. In person. I was so screwed. Gabe had stopped speaking to me, to press his little douchy intercom thingie and was insisting that his secretary send some guy in.

"From now on, you're going to be reporting to our new Art Director." As Gabe said these words, I turned to face the door of his office and received one of three biggest shocks of my life (my parents divorce being one and Sam ditching me for Lawyer School in Stanford being the other.) Walking into Gabe's office was Mr Neon Lights For Eyes himself. Castiel. From the movie theater.

"Dean Winchester? Meet Castiel Novak. Your new boss."

Chapter 2


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Life is a test and I get bad marks

November 2012

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