Chapter Text
Castiel smiles politely at the cashier as she returns his change, shoving the wadded up bills into the pocket of his tan overcoat. A bell chimes overhead as he emerges into the hot afternoon sun, wrinkling his nose at the pungent aroma of exhaust and gasoline, squinting at the sudden exposure of light.
He’d been driving for over six hours today alone, the heaviness that had been settling into his limbs slowly ebbing away as he pads across the parking lot to his black low slung ‘67 Impala, which looks terribly out of place next to the dirt-caked gas dispensers in it’s pristine condition.
Castiel wasn’t much of a car enthusiast, but he’d fallen in love with the rumble of the engine and the scent of leather and the open road that splayed out before the long gleaming hood. It felt like home.
“Nice wheels.”
Castiel looks up and takes in the man before him, clad in disheveled leather and flannel with a half smile perched upon rosy pink lips. Cas immediately shifts his glance back towards his beloved Impala, clearing his throat, “Uh- thank you.”
Castiel tugs the nozzle from it’s holder on the dispenser and shoves it into the side of the car, clunking as the spout slides into place. Cas steals only furtive glances at the man, who is tilted sideways at the waist to admire the car.
The man straightens up and saunters over to lean against the side of the hood. Cas could clearly see the freckles scattered across his nose haphazardly and his bright green-apple eyes.
“Your tires are looking a little low, want me to fill ‘em up for you?” his voice is gruff with a hint of a Southern drawl, Castiel notes absently.
“I don’t know who you are.” Castiel states bluntly, reaching behind himself for a windshield wiper. He just wants to get back onto the road.
The man chuckles and steps closer, extending a hand, “Dean Winchester, at your service.” Castiel brushes past his arm to drag the wiper across his windshield and Dean drops it awkwardly, digging it into the pocket of his denim jeans.
“Well, Dean Winchester, I will not be requiring your services. Thank you for the offer.”
Dean quirks an eyebrow at Cas, hoisting his backpack farther up onto his shoulders, “You going north?”
“Oh, no.” Castiel says in the most sympathetic voice he can manage, hoping he can take the hint and move along. To no avail.
“Where are you going?”
He replies in a clipped tone; “uh-South.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Dean nod slowly, lips pursed in thought. Or annoyance. It was hard to tell.
“Alright" Dean says, acknowledging Castiel’s hesitance and backing away towards the highway. Castiel lets out a sigh of relief, replacing the windshield wiper in its place and pulling the nozzle from the gas filler, trying not to dwell on the handsome stranger.