Work Text:
Dean grumbled as he waited in the ungodly long line. He always hated these frou frou coffee shop places, but his little brother Sam loved them. Give him black coffee any day, over… Dean read part of the menu and scowled. Iced hazelnut mocha latte? What the hell was that, even? But since Sam loved these kinda stupid barely-coffee drinks, and Dean was trying to make him feel better because of how stressed out he was during finals, here he was playing the dutiful big brother in a place filled with people right out of some art school catalog. Though at least this place wasn’t at the mall. He loved Sammy, but not quite that much.
The two girls in line ahead of him started rambling off their orders, which took forever because of all the little extra things they kept adding. It took them even longer, too, because they were both flirting in the most blatant way humanly possible with the guy taking down their orders. The guy, on the other hand, looked completely oblivious. He also looked completely gorgeous. Dean actually had to stop himself from drooling over that dark messy hair, the five o’clock shadow that was nearing midnight, and those eyes that had to be contacts, they looked so unrealistically blue. And when he started talking, that voice hit Dean’s libido with a damn baseball bat. Wow.
He was so busy staring and mentally drooling that he didn’t notice when the two girls moved to the side. He blushed when the hot barista actually had to say “Next” to get his attention. Smooth first impression, Winchester.
“What can I get for you today?” The blue eyed god before him asked, that deep gravelly voice doing things to Dean that should be illegal.
“Your number,” Dean blurted out without thinking. He could feel himself glowing red by now, but the barista only chuckled. Yeah, he probably heard that one a lot. Great…
“Sorry,” Dean said in apology. “Just… Just ignore that or whatever. My brain…”
The dark haired barista just smiled. “It’s okay,” he said softly, looking Dean right in the eyes. And what expressive eyes those were. Damn. Just had to go and ruin it.
“I meant to say a large cinnamon soy latte and a large black coffee,” Dean said, his gaze going to the floor. He could still feel the blush covering his face.
“Can I get your name?” The barista asked after telling Dean the total.
“It’s Dean,” he replied, still having a bit of trouble looking up.
“Well, I’m Cas, and it should only take a few minutes for your coffee.”
As shameful as it was for the great Dean Winchester to hide from his crush, that was exactly what he did while he waited for the two coffees to be done. When his name was called out by a girl with red hair at the other end of the counter, Dean mumbled a quick thanks and headed out, still too embarrassed to glance over at Cas.
When he got back to the apartment, he all but shoved the coffee cup in his brother’s face. “Be thankful, you know how much I hate those places,” Dean said as he walked away, still a little grumpy even after the drive.
“I am Dean,” Sam said, grabbing his latte and breathing in the smell, the dork. “Thanks a ton, I needed this.” He took a sip, the steam still pouring off of it from the heat, then glanced at the cup, a puzzled expression on his face. “Hey, who’s ‘Cas’?”
“What?” Dean asked, tripping over himself to get back to the kitchen table where Sam was sitting.
“Well, whoever she is thought you were cute enough to give you her number,” Sam teased, showing him the paper band that Dean could now see had some writing scribbled it. Sam teased him further by holding the cup out of reach when Dean snatched at it, but after he was done laughing he handed the paper piece over to his brother. “Have fun on your date,” he said, getting that final jab in, then went back to studying.
Dean grumbled a few choice insults as he walked away, but his bratty younger brother’s teasing was completely forgotten as he read what Cas had written. “Since you asked nicely, here’s my number. Call me after I get off work at six and maybe we can get dinner tonight, if you’d like? I know I would.” There was a little winking smiley, followed by a telephone number, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh. That was, quite possibly, the most awkward he had ever acted around a hot guy not counting puberty, yet he still got a date out of the deal. Talk about lucky. Maybe those frou frou coffee places weren’t so bad after all?