Chapter Text
Dean grabbed the cup of coffee that Charlie had finished making, grabbing a lid and placing it on the cup. He slid it across the counter to the customer waiting on the other side, her arms crossed over her chest like she was annoyed at having to wait two minutes for her coffee. That wasn’t even the slowest he made coffee before. Once, it took him ten minutes just to make one cup of coffee.
“Here you are,” Dean said with a smile. “Thank you for coming to Whole Latte Love. Enjoy your coffee!”
The woman grabbed her coffee from Dean and grumbled in a Scottish accent, “You know, your service could be faster.”
Dean stared at the woman for a few seconds, surprised by what she said. “I’m sorry, miss,” he ended up saying, trying to stay calm, keep his composure. “We do have a lot of customers to serve”—he gestured to the jam-packed eating area around them—“so I’m afraid there is always going to be a little bit of a wait.”
The woman gripped her coffee cup tighter—Dean feared she would spill her drink all over her—then turned around and stormed away. The sound of the door opening and closing shook the entire building—the coffee shop and Dean’s apartment upstairs.
Dean sighed as he walked over to the cash registers. He braced his hands on the edge of the counter and leaned forward a bit, looking out at the café. He was delighted to see that there barely was a line in front of him, just a few people staring up at the order board above his head. He took care of them quickly, taking their orders and passing the cups down to Charlie for her to start filling. He joined her shortly after, letting one of their other employees take over the front counter.
“Hey,” Charlie greeted as Dean reached around her to grab the coffee grounds so he could make a fresh pot of coffee. “You know when Sam’s making his way back here?”
Dean shrugged, dumping some measured coffee grounds into the pot and turning the coffee maker on. Soon, coffee was dripping into the pot.
“What do you mean you don’t know when your brother’s coming home?” Charlie asked accusingly, fists on her hips. “Did he not tell you?”
“He told me he’d be home whenever he finished packing up his dorm, so who knows,” Dean responded, rolling his eyes. “Apparently his roommate is a slob, so Sam always makes sure that the dorm is clean. He’s probably going to have to really clean it before he comes home.”
Charlie frowned. “Aww, I was just hoping for a little extra help around this place.”
Dean snorted. “What, you don’t miss him?”
“Oh, I do. I do miss him,” she repeated. “But I also miss how quickly and easily he handles the customers. We only get that during the summer and a few random times during the year for holidays and whatnot.”
Dean was about to answer, but when he looked up, his attention snagged on a guy that was sitting alone at a table, surrounded by books. He was typing away at his laptop, and there was a coffee cup sitting near him that Dean suspected was empty.
“Ooh!” Dean heard, right next to his ear. “Go talk to him! Maybe he wants something to eat, or drink.”
Dean turned towards Charlie, eyes wide. “Wh—what?” he stammered, his heart beating a little faster. “What makes you say that?”
Charlie stepped to the side so Dean could easily see her, arms folded over her chest, a smirk playing on her lips. “Go,” she said firmly, reaching out and shoving Dean towards the door that lead to the front of the café.
“But—” Dean protested, digging his heels into the ground.
“Go,” Charlie repeated, and then Dean found himself walking out from behind the counter and towards the stranger’s table.
“Uh, hey,” Dean said awkwardly when he made it towards the stranger’s table. “Would you—would you like something to drink? Eat?”
The guy looked up at him, a confused expression on his face. He cocked his head to the side and asked, “Aren’t we supposed to go to the counter and order or something…?” He trailed off as he looked over at the counter, and Dean followed his glance, noticing Charlie standing there with a huge smile on her face.
“Uh… yeah,” Dean answered. “But you looked like you needed something to eat, and you seemed too focused on your work to go to the counter yourself…” He trailed off and scratched the back of his neck. “This was stupid. I’ll go back to the counter—”
“No, wait!” the guy said frantically. “A coffee sounds great, actually. I already finished mine a while ago and could really use a new one.”
Dean took a few steps back, almost tripping over another customer’s bag that was on the ground. “I’ll go get that… then.”
“Thank you,” the guy replied, the smile on his face making his blue eyes seem even brighter.
Dean spun around and almost jogged back to the counter, his cheeks slowly turning crimson. He ignored Charlie asking him questions about the guy as he began to make a cup of coffee.
“Hey, answer me!” cut into Dean’s line of hearing. He spun around and was met by Charlie teasing him. “He’s cute! You think he’s cute?”
“No, no…” Dean trailed off. “I was just nervous.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m gonna finish making his coffee so I can take it back out to him.”
Charlie leaned against the counter next to him and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s his name?” she asked, tilting her head back so she could talk to Dean face-to-face.
Dean stopped pouring coffee, eyes wide. “I—I don’t know.”
Charlie grinned and patting him on the shoulder. “Go find out. Take a break. I’m gonna go back to the counter, serve customers, and not make you nervous by watching. Sound good?”
Dean nodded, then finished making the guy’s coffee, putting a lid on and sliding a sleeve on so the guy wouldn’t burn his hand trying to hold it. He sighed deeply—breathed in, breathed out—before making his way back to the guy to give him his coffee.
“Thank you,” the guy said as soon as Dean handed him the steaming cup of coffee.
“You’re welcome,” Dean replied. He took a deep breath, then asked, “Can I sit here? I’m on break right now and I want someone to talk to besides my friend over there who’s making fun of me.”
“Uh, yeah,” the guy replied. He moved his books from the other side of the table so Dean could sit down. He gestured to the seat across from him. “Feel free to sit.”
“Thank you,” Dean said, sitting down. He nervously tapped his fingers on the table, but after the guy seemed to take notice of what he was doing he stopped. “Um, so what’s your name?”
“Castiel,” the guy responded. At the surprised look on Dean’s face, he added, “I know it’s weird, but my parents are super-religious and thought it was a nice name.”
Dean nodded, still a little surprised and confused. “So, uh, Cas—I hope it’s okay if I call you that—my name’s Dean.”
Cas snorted. “I know. You have a nametag.”
Dean looked down at his apron, as if he just noticed that all the years he owned the coffee shop he didn’t know he wore a nametag. “Right. I—I know that. I definitely knew that.” He looked down at the table, hoping that Cas wouldn’t notice the red spreading across his cheeks. When he finally did look up again, Cas was laughing at him. Dean didn’t even understand what was funny about it. He was just happy Cas didn’t want to stop talking to him after he probably messed everything up.
“Sorry,” Cas said, noticing how Dean saw him laughing at him. “It’s just that… you seem so nervous talking to me, and normally I’m the one who’s nervous talking to new people.”
“Oh, right,” Dean said. “Well, I’m sorry--”
Cas waved him off. “It’s fine. Anyway… I like this place. It’s cool. And the name is pretty nice. I’m hoping I’m right, but…” He sighed, then looked up at the ceiling like he was trying to remember something. “‘Whole Lotta Love’ by Led Zeppelin, right?”
Dean nodded. “Yep. Gotta love Led Zepp. Thought ‘Whole Latte Love’ was a kind of cool name for a coffee shop, and I was obviously right.”
Cas nodded. “Yeah. I’ve never really listened to Led Zeppelin before, but I understood the reference.” He was about to take a sip of coffee, but he must have thought against it because he moved his hand away from his cup as he laughed, presumably at Dean’s comment about being right. He took a deep breath, trying not to make a scene in the middle of the café, then returned to his coffee.
“You like the coffee?” Dean asked, leaning forward to grab Cas’s empty coffee cup from the coffee he had gotten earlier. He flipped it around a few times, accidentally getting a few drops of coffee on him. “Sorry,” he said quickly, setting the empty cup back down on the table.
Cas smiled at Dean’s awkwardness. “It’s fine,” he said, sliding the empty cup towards himself. “I need to throw this out, anyway.” He paused for a second, lost it thought, then added, “And the coffee is great. Much better than the crap I get at other places or attempt to make myself.”
Dean chuckled at that. “Well, you’re welcome.” He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation. When he looked back down at the table, his eyes caught on the stack of books that Cas had on the table. Dean picked up the book on the top of the stack: The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich by William L. Shirer. “Wow,” Dean said, impressed. “What do you need this for?”
Cas reached across the table and grabbed the book from Dean’s hands, fumbling from the book’s weight. “Uh, research,” he answered, setting the book back on top of the stack and lining it up with the others.
“For what, might I ask?” Dean pressed, curious. He really wanted to know why Cas needed to know about the Nazi party.
Cas flipped his laptop around, then turned it back to face him, just long enough for Dean to take a glance at the screen. “I’m writing a book, and one of the topics kind of covered in it is World War II.”
“Hmm,” Dean said, interested. “Well, just so you know, you probably look kind of weird sitting here with a book about Nazis next to you. Just saying,” he finished, leaning back, arms raised defensively.
Cas’s eyes widened, and a blush began to slowly creep onto his face. He hastily shoved his books into the messenger bag that was slung across the back of his seat, then took a glance around the café. Dean looked around with him, and they both could see that no one was looking at the weirdly or anything. They were all keeping to themselves, eating their pastries, sipping their coffees.
“Were people looking at me weird earlier?” Cas asked in a hushed but firm tone, causing Dean to turn back and look at him.
“No,” Dean said, trying to be serious. It didn’t work, though; he started laughing as soon as he saw the bewildered look on Cas’s face. “I just did that—to mess with you,” he explained, his words a little broken up through fits of laughter.
Dean expected Cas to seem a little upset by what Dean said, but instead, Cas laughed and said, “Whatever. It’s fine.”
Dean nodded, a little confused, but he decided not to say anything about that anymore. “So, uh,” he started to say, trying to change the subject, “what is your story about?”
“Um…” Cas trailed off, suddenly looking nervous. He tapped the trackpad on his laptop a few times—probably saving his work and shutting his computer down—then flipped it shut. “I don’t really know how to explain, and I’m also not sure if I’m allowed to share anything about it. My agent’s kind of strict and—”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Dean assured him, cutting him off before he could go off on a tangent. “I don’t need to know. I was just merely curious.”
Cas took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling as he did so. “Thank you. And, if you really did want to know about it, it’s a historical fiction novel about a few different time periods—World War II in Germany, the 1920s, the Great Depression, the American Revolution, and the Victorian Era.” He sighed as he slid his laptop into his bag, looking tired and discouraged. “It’s a lot of work, and I have way too many notes on all these different time periods, but I’m making it work.”
“Well,” Dean started, grinning, “good luck! Honestly, writing sounds like something I could never do. That’s why I run this place.” He gestured around the café, indicating the expanse of tables with customers enjoying the company of others or just doing their own thing.
When Dean looked back at Cas, he had a small smile on his face, like he was admiring Dean’s accomplishments.
“Okay,” Cas said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder, “I have to leave if I want to get to the library before it closes.” He grabbed his coffee cups and opened his wallet to pay for the second coffee.”
“No, no, no!” Dean said frantically. “The coffee is on me!”
Cas frowned a little, slowly starting to close his wallet. “You sure?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah. Consider it my treat.”
“Well, if you’re sure…” Cas trailed off, sliding his wallet back into his jacket pocket. “I’ll leave, then.”
“It was nice meeting you!” Dean called after Cas, waving at his retreating back.
“You, too!” Cas called back, turning back to face Dean quickly so he could wave. He turned back and threw away his empty coffee cup, then walked out the door, drinking his other coffee as he went.
Dean stood in the middle of the customer area smiling and waving at someone who wasn’t there. When he realized what he was doing, he quickly dropped his hand, then spun around and headed back behind the counter to take people’s orders.
“Someone have a crush?” Charlie teased as soon as Dean walked up to the register next to her.
“What?” Dean asked, completely taken off-guard. “Yes—no—I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Charlie threw her head back and laughed. “Okay…” she drawled. “If you say so.” She turned away from him and started taking care of the next customer in line.
Dean stared at her in bewilderment for a few seconds, then turned towards his register and turned it on. “I just wish I had gotten his number,” he said before helping a customer.
Cas made his way down the street, holding the strap of his bag as a force of habit. He checked his phone quickly, making sure that he still had plenty of time to get to the library before it closed.
As he looked down at the almost-finished cup of coffee he had in his hand, he started thinking about Dean. He was nice, and Cas wished that he had gotten his number before he left. He could just go by the next day and ask for Dean’s number. He would need coffee anyway, so he might as well kill two birds with one stone.
He shook his head, laughing at himself for being stupid. It’s not like he would have enough courage to ask for Dean’s number, so why even try?
Cas tipped his head back, draining the rest of his coffee, then dropped his empty cup into the nearest trash can. He looked ahead of him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his tan trench coat, and made his way down the street.
About ten minutes later, he arrived at his destination: his favorite local library. He jogged up the stairs and, once at the top, shoved the glass door open, already taking in the smell of books that was so familiar to him.
“Hey, Cas,” Kevin said, looking up from his computer to greet Cas.
“Hi, Kevin,” Cas replied, giving the kid a warm smile as he passed by. “I’m gonna renew a few books, but can I do that when I come back?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kevin answered, then looked down at his computer. He pulled a notebook over towards him and jotted something down.
“What are you doing?” Cas asked, tilting his head to the side.
Kevin lifted his head, surprised by the question. “Oh,” he started. “It’s my history homework. It’s a lot of work. Advanced Placement and all that…”
Cas nodded. “Well, good luck.” He smiled again, then turned away from the front desk, starting to head to the section of the library he needed.
When he got over there, he immediately started skimming the shelves, looking for anything useful to his novel. He ran his finger along the books’ spines, still searching.
Eventually, he stumbled upon Last Call: The Rise and Fall of Prohibition by Daniel Okrent. He pulled it off the shelf, tucking it under his arm, then also grabbed New World Coming: The 1920s and the Making of Modern America by Nathan Miller, adding it to the small pile.
Cas continued strolling through the library, hoping that maybe he could find something else about the American Revolution. Instead, he found himself in a section filled with books about famous musicians and bands. He found himself pulling When Giants Walked the Earth: A Biography of Led Zeppelin by Mick Wall off the shelf.
Instead of adding the book to his pile, he slid it back onto the shelf. He wouldn’t have time to read it between writing his novel and doing tons of research for it. He did, however, make a mental note to download some Led Zeppelin songs as soon as he got home.
“All done?” Kevin asked as Cas dropped his two books on the counter. He slid them towards himself and scanned them in, then scanned in Cas’s library card that he found next to the pile.
“Uh, yeah,” Cas said. “But,” he added, digging through his bag, “I wanted to renew these two.” He set a book about the Great Depression and one about the Victorian Era on the counter. Kevin scanned them in, then slid four books and a library card back across the counter.
“Thank you,” Cas said, grabbing the books and library card, sliding them into their respectable places in his bag.
“You’re welcome,” Kevin said. He sighed. “I still have homework to finish, but thankfully barely anyone has been through here all afternoon.”
Cas’s shoulders sank. “You’re kidding.”
Kevin shook his head. “Unfortunately. But what can you do?”
Cas rolled his eyes, turning away from the counter as he did so. “Yeah, really,” he called over his shoulder. “Bye, Kevin. Have a good night.”
“You too, Cas,” Kevin answered. “And good luck with your book.”
“Thank you,” Cas said gratefully as he shoved open the door to the library. He stepped outside and wrapped his trench coat around himself tightly, surprised by the sudden, unexpected cold.
He walked home that way, only stopping to take out his key so he could open the door to his apartment complex, then the door to his own apartment.
“Hey, Shadow,” Cas said as he opened the door, immediately being jumped by his little Bombay cat. She rubbed her head against Cas’s leg, and Cas had to gently nudge her away so he wouldn’t step on her as he put his coat away.
Cas walked across the room, dropping his bag on the ground before collapsing onto the couch. He pulled out his phone and checked the time: 9:30 p.m. Not late, but not really early.
Shadow jumped on the couch next to him, and Cas started stroking her head as he leaned forward and grabbed his earbuds from the coffee table.
“I’d listen to this without earbuds, but I think you’re trying to sleep,” Cas whispered, lightly stroking Shadow’s head. She purred, then closed her eyes, content.
Cas turned his phone over, quickly searching for his music store app. He clicked on it, searched for Led Zeppelin, and downloaded a few albums. He put his earbuds in, then opened his music app.
Cas leaned back. He stayed there for a few hours, feet up on the coffee table, Shadow next to him, Led Zeppelin filtering through his ears.