#I'm sure there are 10000 mistakes but hey they're my mistakes in a art what I did??

[whelvenwings]

3k, College AU. In which Dean attempts to scam Castiel over text, with... mixed results.

 read here on AO3 if you prefer!

Castiel sat in his apartment, scrolling listlessly through his phone. He’d tried to stop doing this recently. The hours he flipped down the wishing well of his Instagram feed just weren’t rewarding him with the perfect life he wished for, and at a certain point it was time to stop making the wishes. But even though he’d put his social media apps in a folder marked Don’t Do It, and even though he knew he didn’t want to melt through his days like this – slumped on his sofa with phone in hand – he ended up doing it anyway.

He stared briefly at a picture of a dog. Then someone’s baked goods. Then someone else’s throwback picture to their time in Greece.

None of it was particularly exciting, but he couldn’t seem to will himself away.

Inside him, a little voice was saying, you know, you could be doing something that you actually enjoy right now, like going for a run or reading a book or watching a TV show or, and I mean heaven forbid, but you could possibly start doing that paper? You know, like, work?

Castiel scrolled some more. The voice in his mind was very loud but outwardly, he was just sitting in his living room, eyes fixed quietly on his screen.

Move! said the little voice. You can’t just sit here forever! What are you doing? Your minutes on Earth are slipping out from under you while you do things you don’t even like!

With a little sniff, Castiel kept going. It was like his thumb had a mind of its own, traversing his Instagram like a lone journeyman, while the sky-gods above in Castiel’s mind begged it to stop.

A white box unfurled from the top of Castiel’s screen.

He blinked. A notification – a text. He tried to pull down the notif to read what the text said, but he accidentally closed it instead. Treacherous little journeyman thumb, he thought. Maybe if it spent less time overexerting itself on social media scrolling, it’d be able to open a text message.

A text message. Weird. No one texted him anymore, not really – all his friends used WhatsApp, and his professors only ever contacted him via email. To just get a plain old text was unusual. He flipped over to his texting app and opened it.

>> Your phone is now hacked so do exactly what I say and I’ll remove the hack. If you don’t I’ll destroy all your phone data. If you try to block me or report this I’ll destroy all the data instantly send your home address or I’ll hack you and share everything

When he started reading the message, Castiel felt a cold clutch of worry grip his stomach. His phone was hacked? How was that even possible? He ran anti-virus and anti-malware apps all the time, even though they slowed down his phone. He took care not to visit any sites that looked suspicious. How could –

He read it again, and then frowned, and sent a message back.

<< I have to send the address or you’ll hack me? I thought you already hacked me?

There was a pause. Castiel could feel his heart beating a little fast. His phone was supposed to be a safe island that no one could get into, his own private space; having someone text him that they were inside it, had hacked it, felt like having someone in his bedroom rooting through his things.

After thirty seconds, the text came back.

>> Yeah I’ve definitely hacked it so send the address or I’ll destroy your data and share it

Castiel squinted. He typed back,

<< How are you going to share the data if you destroyed it?

Another pause, and then –

>> I’ll share it first

With a more suspicious expression on his face than ever, Castiel responded,

<< What phone do I have? What OS?

>> You have thirty seconds to send the address or I’m going to share the data

<< You didn’t answer my question.

>> I don’t have to

Castiel actually had a small smile forming on his face as the last text came in. The person on the other end of the phone clearly had no idea what they were doing. He wasn’t sure if this was just a prank from one of his friends, or if it was a genuine attempt to scam him, but it definitely wasn’t an actual hacker.

With that same little smile on his face, Castiel typed out,

<< It’s been more than thirty seconds.

>> Yeah and I have your data now so I’m gonna share it

It was almost endearing, Castiel thought.

<< You really didn’t plan ahead for if someone actually questioned you, did you?

>> Yeah I am prepared. I’m gonna destroy everything on your phone

As Castiel considered how to reply – and if he even should, or if it was better to leave the supposed hacker to their own devices – he felt his stomach growl. Lost in the endless scroll of his Instagram feed, he’d completely forgotten to eat for most of the day. The texts from this person had finally broken the spell.

<< Alright. Enjoy yourself. I’m going to go and get some food.

>> Copying all the content now

Of course you are, Castiel thought. Of course. He wandered through to his kitchen and started browsing through his shelves. He had rice – plenty of rice, and also a bottle of soy sauce that was going out of date, and a slightly withered onion. In the fridge he found a few more limp-looking vegetables that needed eating up before he next went shopping.

Ten minutes later found him watching a pot bubbling to cook his rice, with a frying pan sizzling beside it.

When he picked up his phone, the hacker hadn’t responded. Castiel took a screenshot of their conversation, and then flipped over to WhatsApp. Opening the groupchat he had with his friends, he sent the screenshot.

I’m getting hacked, he wrote, and then put a terrified emoji. Charlie responded immediately with four cry-laughing emojis, and a few others sent some gifs. Castiel watched along the top to see someone typing a response – a number he didn’t have saved to his phone.

Sounds pretty scary you should probably send it, said the person. Castiel checked the name in grey next to their number, the one WhatsApp displayed automatically. Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester? Castiel felt a little flip in his stomach. He’d been hoping to get to chat to Dean for months, now – they’d shared a class last semester but somehow had never got to talking, just traded looks across the room. Castiel had thought he’d lost his chance when the semester had ended and their shared class had been over – but then Charlie had added Dean into the chat at the start of the new year, introducing him as someone she’d met in one of her computing classes. Dean had been quiet so far, though, just lurking and reading messages.

Now, for the first time, Dean had actually said something to him.

And it was something ridiculous. Dean wasn’t actually taking this seriously, was he? Those computing classes couldn’t be focusing in on hacking as a topic, if he was this clueless.

Castiel didn’t want to leave Dean hanging without a reply, but he also didn’t want to embarrass him by laughing at the idea of the hack being scary. Instead, he switched over to his texting app again. Maybe if he got more evidence that the “hacker” had no idea what they were doing, then Dean would realise on his own that it wasn’t anything to worry about.

He thought for a second, and then sent,

<< How’s it going? It can’t take that long to steal all my data. I only have like 4 pictures on my phone and they’re all accidental selfies.

>> I’m getting all your credit card details you should definitely just send the address

<< Isn’t my address in the same place in my phone where you found my credit card details?

A pause, and then –

>> Yeah it is but you should tell me anyway

Castiel pressed his lips together to repress a laugh, and took another screenshot, and sent it to the groupchat.

I think I’ll be okay, he said. Dean started typing again immediately, while emojis rolled in from the rest of the people in the chat.

Dean said,

I don’t know dude seems legit to me

Charlie sent a message that said,

Dean… are you reading the same thing I’m reading?

Castiel was glad that Charlie was the one questioning him, because someone had to. Surely Dean was just kidding around, though. There was no way he really thought that this terrifying “hacker” represented a serious threat.

Dean was typing again. Castiel stirred his vegetables in the frying pan.

I had a friend who got the same message, Dean said, and he didn’t send his address and the hacker totally ruined his life so you should probably just send it

The message sat there in the WhatsApp groupchat, and was met with silence. Castiel read over it, shook his head – and then he noticed his rice was definitely cooked, and went to drain the water away in the sink before it went mushy in the pot. A frown was growing on his face as he did so. When he was done, he stirred his vegetables some more and then came back and read the message again.

His eyes narrowed.

He switched to his texting app, and read over the texts the hacker had sent him. And then went back to WhatsApp, and read Dean’s message.

The style was undeniably similar.

Was Dean pranking him? Probably not, right? Why would he? But then again, Dean was trying to convince him that the hack was real over WhatsApp in a way that was stylistically similar and just as unconvincing as the hacker themself over text… Castiel wasn’t sure what to make of that. Attention from Dean would feel kind of good, but given that the attention he was possibly getting was some kind of attempt to scam him out of his personal details, the good feeling was definitely not boundless.

After some thought, Castiel turned down the heat under his frying pan, tapped through his phone, and hit Call.

Bzz, bzz. The dial tone hummed in Castiel’s ear. He found that his heartbeat was actually pounding a little hard.

Bzz, bzz. Maybe this was a bad idea. Probably he should just hang up, and try messaging instead –

“Hello?”

Castiel went still as someone picked up. Their voice was comically low and growling, as though the person who’d answered was putting on a voice.

“Hello,” Castiel said.

“This is the hacker. Tell me your address.”

Castiel pressed his lips together, very hard, so he wouldn’t laugh.

“I said, tell me the address.”

“Um,” Castiel said. “No, thank you. Dean, what are you doing?”

There was a pause, and some kind of hurried rustling on the phone, and then the voice said,

“Dean? Who’s Dean? I don’t know anyone with that name. Just send over the address and your data won’t be shared and destroyed.”

“Dean,” Castiel said, “I called you on WhatsApp. I know this is you.”

The silence, this time, was significantly more protracted. For a few seconds, Castiel thought that Dean was actually gone, or that maybe the line had gone dead. Instead, after an incredibly pregnant pause, Dean said in his normal voice,

“Fuck.”

“Can I… ask you what’s going on?”

“Uh…” Dean hesitated. “Shit. Oh, god. Okay. Look, man, uh, buddy, I’m – I’m really sorry if I freaked you out with the whole scam thing –”

“I wasn’t freaked out,” Castiel said, trying not to sound too much as though he was enjoying himself. It felt good to hear Dean’s voice down the phone. Dean Winchester, the most handsome guy in Spanish 101, was actually on the end of the phone. They were actually talking. Under circumstances that made no sense, obviously, but still.

“Right… right. I just – I’m sorry, it was this idea I had and I thought I could just…”

He broke off. Something about the tone of his voice took the silliness and hilarity out of the situation, and Castiel’s slight smile dropped to be replaced by a little frown of concern.

“Are you in some kind of trouble? Do you need a place to come to?”

“No, no, nothin’ like that. Oh my god, this is the worst.”

“Dean… is something wrong? If you need my address… you know you could have messaged me and just asked for it?”

Dean groaned.

“I don’t… I mean, yeah, but like, no,” Dean said. “Look, I’m just gonna go. I’m sorry for… whatever the hell this was, and –”

“Wait,” Castiel said, “wait, don’t go. You can’t try to scam me for my address and then not give me any answers, I…”

“Sorry,” Dean said, and then hung up.

Castiel took his phone away from his ear. There had been something so wretched and barely-concealed in Dean’s tone that Castiel himself was upset, his stomach twisting. He looked down at his phone screen.

After a long minute of thought, Castiel went to his texting app and opened the text chain with the “hacker”.

<< 401 Lazarus Rise SW, Apartment 67

He considered the text for a long moment, and then sent it. Dean didn’t text back.

But two days later, there was a knock at his front door. Castiel, sitting at his desk and reluctantly typing out some words on his paper, frowned and looked over at the clock as though its face calmly showing 5pm would give him some kind of answer about who was outside. Receiving no wisdom from it, he decided to go and see for himself.

Opening the door, he saw a delivery person wearing a big smile and carrying a bunch of flowers.

“Here you go!” they said, handed him the flowers smartly, and then marched off down the hallway. Castiel stared after them, wondering how they’d even managed to get inside the building without being buzzed in. Probably Mrs Tran down the hall leaving the door open again, so that her son could get in even though her buzzer was broken.

Castiel stood in the doorway of his apartment, holding onto the bunch of flowers. It was a simple enough arrangement – just twelve red roses, nestled in brown paper. When the delivery person was gone, Castiel blinked and looked down at them. Surely these had to be for someone else in the building – he could just check the label and try to figure out who.

The label was a piece of brown card tied to the roses with string. In a messy scrawl, Castiel read,

Hey sorry again about what happened hopefully these make up for it. Never really tried to do anything about liking a guy before so don’t know what I’m doing. Didn’t know if you’d find flowers embarrassing so tried to get your address and send them anonymously but I guess that plan sucked ass huh? Don’t feel like you gotta say anything just wanted to apologize. Dean

Castiel’s eyes went wide and soft. He read the message through one more time and then once more after that, and then tilted the roses up to look at them, and then read the message again, and then smelled the flowers. He leaned back against his doorframe. He could feel his heart just about ready to burst out of his chest.

He went into his apartment, feeling as though he were walking on marshmallows. His legs were fuzzy with his happiness. Finding his phone, he pulled up WhatsApp.

Bzz, bzz.

Bzz –

“Hello?”

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel still had the roses in one hand. He looked down at them again, and closed his eyes because the happiness was just a little too much for a half-second.

“Uh.” He heard Dean swallow. “I did put the part where you didn’t have to say anything to me, right?”

“I know. But I wanted to thank you.”

“Uhhh.” Dean sounded floored. “Okay. Well, you’re… welcome?”

“And I wanted to ask you for something.”

“Oh. Okay?”

Castiel smiled.

“Your address,” he said.

––

The next night, Castiel stood outside the door of a slightly shabby-looking apartment, and knocked.

After less than three seconds, it was opened. Framed in the doorway stood Dean Winchester, wearing a nervous smile and nicer clothes than Castiel had ever seen him wear before to class.

Castiel breathed out.

“Hey,” Dean said. His hands looked awkward and clumsy, and Castiel’s heart was full enough looking at the confused shy man in front of him that he couldn’t stop himself – he reached out and took one of them. And it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, it was all in the wrong order, they were meant to go out for dinner and then Castiel would drop Dean back at his apartment and walk him to the door and then they were supposed to do this – but somehow Dean was close, and Castiel was leaning in a little closer still, and then their lips met.

Dean kissed so gently.

When Castiel pulled away, he saw the colour flowering inDean’s lightly stubbled cheeks.

“Uh,” Dean said gruffly. “Uh, good, okay. Yeah. Good.”

“Good?”

“Good,” Dean confirmed. “Good.”

“Good,” Castiel said.

For a second, they stared at each other. And then, moving at the same time, they both leaned in again – not so gentle, now.

They didn’t make their dinner reservation.

“We should call and tell them we’re not coming,” Castiel said at one point.

“They’ll be okay.”

“We should tell them,” Castiel insisted, giving Dean a little dig in the ribs. “It’s rude not to.”

“What, you think the cops will come for us if we don’t?”

“They’re already coming for you anyway,” Castiel said. “This has all been a ruse to catch the biggest scammer in town.”

Dean dropped his head onto Castiel’s shoulder, and laughed.

“Never gonna live that one down?”

“Never,” said Castiel, and kissed him again.