Chapter Text
As he drove along Main Street he wondered what bookstore Ruby was talking about. He didn’t remember a bookstore – didn’t everyone buy their books from Amazon these days? He looked from side to side as he drove along but didn’t see anything that looked like a bookstore, just the ones which were always there: the bakery, the butchers, shoe store, pet store, weird hippy store, the empty store that used to be the video rental.
“Wait,” he thought, pulling over. He looked at the suspect peanut bars Sam had handed him. That hippy store was just the kind of place that would sell these cardboard things. He got out of the impala and peered in the window to see what they sold. Sure enough there were some books in the display alongside essential oils (what was so essential about them, Dean had managed to get by without them all these years) and tubs of what looked like birdseed but Dean had a sinking feeling were supposed to be eaten by people. No doubt at all this was the place that had been corrupting Sam and Ruby. Dean conveniently ignored the fact that Sam had been nagging him about healthy eating for years and got himself good and angry. He glanced at the opening hours in the window and was surprised to see that it was open at this time on a Sunday. Of course, he snorted, probably open to catch all the freaks out jogging and shit at this time of the morning. He completely disregarded the fact he was up and about himself. He pushed open the door ready to take on whoever it was who was corrupting his family.
It was lighter than he had been expecting in the store, half-thinking it would be dark, poky and stinking of patchouli. In fact it was light and clean. Dean didn’t want to admit it but it felt welcoming as he strode up to the counter.
The guy at the counter was perched on a stool munching an apple and bent over a book which was laid out across his knees. Peering at the flesh he could see in the book, Dean would have liked to have thought it was some kind of sex manual but he thought it more than likely was for massage or whatever. Mind you, you never knew with these hippy types.
“Hey,” he said brandishing the peanut and banana bar. “Do you sell these things?”
The guy looked up smiling and reached for the bar, his apple and book shoved onto the counter.
At this point Dean could have confirmed whether it was sex or massage but he was utterly caught staring into the guys wide blue eyes. They had a glint in them as he smiled that wild gummy smile that just wouldn’t let Dean look away. Looking down at his lips they seemed to be moving and mentally slapping himself he tried to pay attention to what the guy was saying.
“…so great for giving you energy without filling you up too much and making you sluggish,” the guy was saying.
Hearing his voice made Dean stop again. It was deep and gravelly and while Dean felt that maybe he was being a bit too enthusiastic about the squirrel food he would love to hear how enthusiastic he would sound in bed.
He stopped himself. Today was not a day for random hook-ups and he was dammed if the love of his life was a patchouli peddler.
“Sir?” came the voice again.
“What? What?” Dean was aware he sounded strange, which was good because it helped bring the anger back.
“So,” he jabbed his finger accusingly, stopping just short of poking the guy and causing him to take a step back. He ran his hand anxiously through his dark brown hair which just, fuck, was tousled in a way which on most people would look like a tramp but on this guy, this guy? It looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and not from sleeping. Fuck! Dean reined himself in and began again.
“It’s not bad enough that you supply dudes like my brother who are past the point of no return but you are dragging normal people in too. My brother’s wife, she’s.. it’s.. urgh, her whole personality has changed. It’s not like I liked her all that much before but at least she was herself. Now I don’t know what the hell is wrong with her.” Dean stopped and looked at the guy who was staring at him with his head cocked to one side, a look of utter confusion on his face.
“Are you saying that you think I’m a drug dealer? I am not a drug dealer sir.” He looked down and picked up the nut bar showing it to Dean. “This is not drugs,” he spoke slowly, probably rightly worried that Dean was not the most stable of customers. “It is peanut and banana. I do not think it causes addiction or personality changes.” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “We also have hazelnut and white chocolate if it is the flavour that offends you.”
The guy had leaned forward a little on the last part as though he was sharing a secret which, Dean thought, actually made it seem more likely that this was some sort of drug. He didn’t mention it though as his mind started to lock down the closer they guy got to him.
“No,” he snapped. “I mean she said she came in here and you sold her a book and new she’s outside doing yoga on a Sunday morning and being semi-nice to me and Sam told me to get out instead of her and there was no bacon at all!” That, Dean thought, was the worst part - - Sunday morning, no bacon, Sam chucking him out, fairy godfathers. He felt his life was coming apart at the seams and somehow this hot as shit hippy was the cause of it.
He felt a warm had on his back guiding him to the stool behind the counter. The same hand was rubbing up and down comfortingly while the other was handing him a tissue because, Jesus fucking Christ, he was crying. Actually crying. Thank god this guy was a stranger and he would never have to see him again.
“Can I just ask, is your brother’s wife a small woman with long dark hair?” the guy asked him. “Very pretty? Kind of terrifying?”
“Well not so terrifying at the moment but yeah, that sounds like her. You remember her then?”
“Yes, you seem to be a very emotional family.” Dean snorted at that. “She was sitting on my stool crying as well.”
“Hey,” Dean coughed, sitting up straighter on the stool and quietly wiping his eyes. “Why was she crying though? That doesn’t sound like her.”
“It’s not my place to tell you anything,” the guy started evasively, his eyes darting to one of the bookshelves near the door. “She was stressed and I gave her a few tips to ease that stress.” He hesitated a little before starting again. “I do remember her mentioning that she hardly got any time alone with her husband. You wouldn’t be, um, ‘fucking Dean’ by any chance would you?”
Dean could feel his face going bright red at this. He knew he pissed Ruby off going around as much as he did but not so much that she would cry to a total stranger about it. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he did need to take a step back and look after himself for a while. Shit.
“Thanks man,” he said, nodding at the stool as he got up. “Sorry the whole family’s been using you like a shrink. You didn’t need all that laid on you.”
“That’s OK, it’s quiet right now, what else would I be doing?” The man’s lips quirked up at the side in a small smile. Dean barked out a laugh and held out a hand.
“Sorry anyway, fucking Dean by the way.” The guy took his hand and shook it.
“Castiel.”
“Well, nice to meet you Cas but I have to be going. It’s going to be a big day for me apparently.” Dean smiled at him for the first time, reluctantly letting go of his hand. Maybe he would go to the park, see if he could find the true love guy there.
“Have a good day Dean, come in again one Sunday morning. I can’t promise bacon but I do usually have fruit.” He brandished the apple high in the air and Dean grinned as he walked backwards, shaking his head. He was so busy laughing at the dorky hippy that he bumped into the bookshelf Cas had been trying not to look at earlier and knocked a couple to the floor.
“Sorry Cas,” he called turning to pick them up. “I’ll get them.” He bent down snagging a couple of the books, idly checking out the covers as he shoved them back on the shelf. One had a woman doing yoga, her distended stomach almost touching the floor. Another had a picture of a newborn baby on the front. His eyes darted over the whole shelf. It only seemed to cover one subject. He turned, mouth flapping open, to Cas who was looking at him with an expression of fear.
“Is, is this..what I think it is?” Dean stammered out, his hand waving at the bookshelf.
“Please, please don’t say anything,” Cas whispered his head going into his hands. “It’s for them to tell you.”
“I’m going to be an uncle?” Dean felt his heart filling his chest with pure joy. Cas sidled out from behind the counter, obviously wondering if Dean needed the stool again.
Dean didn’t know what to do with himself, he hadn’t ever felt this happy. He looked around feeling the need to share this with someone. Cas was still hovering close by in case he had a panic attack or something and in the heat of the moment he tossed aside his usual reserve in touching guys, grabbing him by the shoulders for a hug.
He didn’t know if he was laughing or crying, gripping tightly onto Cas who was gripping him back just as hard.
He leaned back grinning at Cas who was smiling so warmly, so genuinely happy for Dean that he moved his hands up to Cas’ face and kissed him lightly, laughing in delight before he realised what he’d done.
“Oh,” he began, running through his brain looking for the right words to say Sorry I laid one on you, please don’t punch me. Before he could say anything else he felt one hand on his shoulder dragging him back, the other on his waist holding him firmly.
By the time Dean’s brain caught up with what was happening Cas had him pressed against the bookshelf biting softly on his lower lip and then kissing him harder, his tongue just lightly caressing against Deans own making all his blood run straight to his groin. He couldn’t help a small moan escape him as Cas drew back, looking slightly nervous but not letting go.
Dean dragged his eyes away from his lips and managed a smile.
“You’ll do anything to get me to come back next Sunday I see.”
Cas choked back a laugh.
“I’d rather not wait til then,” he growled pressing closer and this time it was Dean pushing forward, lips touching more gently this time as Cas just ground into him leaving them both breathless as they reluctantly let each other go.
Dean rubbed the back of his neck shyly.
“I’d.. you know.. but.. store.. customers,” he gestured around him, driven to incoherence due to the almost painful way his pants were tight against him.
Cas nodded stepping back from him.
“I live above the store if you wanted to come back later. We could have dinner maybe?” Cas seemed hopeful and Dean grinned, he had never felt more like agreeing to an invitation in his life.
“I can bring pizza,” he said as he brushed past Cas setting off more uncomfortable reactions in his jeans. He grabbed a pen and post-it from the counter leaving his number. Turning back Cas leaned in and kissed him slowly, smiling slightly as he drew back, promising more than something rough and ready. Dean let his hand stoke down his side, he was more than ready for that.
Reluctantly going out the door as the first real customer of the day stepped in he waved through the window and made his way back to the impala. He just had time to go and congratulate Sam and Ruby before he went and got ready for tonight.
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The customer, a shortish guy with floppy light brown hair and a mischievous grin watched him go before turning to Cas.
“Already he forgets,” he sighed. “Fairy godfathering is a thankless task.”
“Excuse me?” Cas wondered if he had heard correctly.
“Never mind me,” the customer said waving a hand in front of him. “Looks like you’ve got a good one there. Better not let go of him.” The last part of the sentence was more of an order than anything else and Cas found himself flinching at the suddenly steely look in the customer’s eyes.
“I certainly don’t intend to,” he assured him.
The customer’s demeanour changed instantly to a ridiculously jolly one.
“Good to hear it! Now do you have any of those hazelnut and white chocolate bars I’ve been hearing about?”