Work Text:
The high school gymnasium bathed the crowd in fluorescent light, the echoes of shiny new shoes squeaking on basketball court floors mingled with idle business chit chat, while the smell of freshly printed resumes hung in the air. The local job fair was in full swing, new graduates, the recently laid off, and the midlife career changers plastered on their best smiles and rehearsed their elevator pitches as they tried to appear interested but not desperate. Bored HR reps man their booths, armed with vacant smiles and out of date business cards.
Dean adjusted his striped tie, hoping he had yet to sweat through his new suit jacket. A recent graduate of a mechanical engineering program, he thought finding his first job would be a cinch. All these years he heard time and time again how in-demand engineers were, and how good the alumni network was, but submitting his 10th application into the internet void with no response was just not cutting it anymore. He pulled out the event list of companies from the stupid faux leather portfolio he carried around to look important and scanned it quickly. Why the FBI always had a booth at these things he would never understand, he thought, shaking his head as he walked slowly through the crowd, do they ever actually call anyone from these events? He considered as he suddenly felt the impact of a strong shoulder against his own.
Dean immediately began to stutter out an apology, snapping up his gaze to meet a beautiful man with bright blue eyes and a shock of dark hair. “I’m so sorry man, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he cringed, desperately trying not to draw attention to himself.
“It’s no trouble,” The stranger replied, voice surprisingly deep, “I was feeling a little lost myself.” The man appeared to be around Dean’s age, clad in a black suit and backwards blue tie. Dean chuckled, feeling settled by the stranger’s calm demeanor.
“These things are always the worst, I’m Dean by the way,” he offered, extending his hand.
“Castiel,” the man smiled warmly, accepting the handshake, “nice to meet you, Dean. I agree, I will never understand why they don’t at least attempt to organize the booths in some logical way other than the alphabet, maybe profession perhaps?”
“Tell me about it, if you see anything resembling an engineering firm send me the bat signal,” Dean joked, at ease for the first time since entering the building.
“I believe I saw a map hidden just this way,” Castiel gestured, “perhaps we could figure it out together.”
“Lead the way,” Dean agreed, happy to follow.
Trailing Castiel, Dean felt his footing return, and upon reaching the map, tucked in a quiet corner away from the crowds, Dean felt as if he could finally take a breath. Eyeing Castiel, he was finally able to appreciate how handsome he was up close. “So, Castiel, what type of work are you looking for?” he inquired.
“My degree is in accounting,” Castiel shrugged half-heartedly, “not exactly exciting, but I’m good with numbers and was hoping for job security. Not that I have had much luck so far.”
“I know what you mean, they make it seem like people will be knocking down your door with offers when really, you’re lucky to receive a rejection email these days,” Dean sighs, glancing around the room. “I mean, look at all this, everyone with their stiff business clothes, fake smiles, and too tight handshakes it’s all so staged and rehearsed.” Dean pointed toward one of the more upscale booths, a huge set up with a flat-screen television playing an advertisement for Roman enterprises, five sinister looking representatives appeared to be looking down at everyone who passed, only approaching those that were dripping with an air of sleazy corruption. Dick Roman, CEO of Roman enterprises preached from the screen about success and cutthroat business tactics. Dean whispered, “See that? There’s no way they’re not up to something shady if you ask me.”
Castiel followed Dean’s gaze around the room, “It does seem quite unnatural, now that you mention it.”
“Whoever decided to make it so complicated, huh?” Dean ranted, hand balled into a fist and wrinkling his company list. “All I want is to build cool stuff, and help some people, where do I sign up for that business?”
“If you find out, I’d be happy to go with you,” Castiel sighed, “the last thing I need is to get roped into some grand plan I want nothing to do with.”
“You’re telling me,” Dean smiled, “ but how are we supposed to get experience if no one will hire us? And all the crap about having connections? Why should I have to shmooze my way into the position because I know someone?”
“Trust me,” Castiel teased, “if I knew I wouldn’t be standing here with 70 grand in student loans.”
Dean snorted, his green eyes meeting Castiel’s blue ones. “Hey Cas, any chance you want to get something to eat after this?”
Castiel’s smile grew so large that his gums began to show, it tugged at something in Dean’s heart. “I would love that, Dean. But first, we should probably try to find jobs.”
Dean huffed a laugh, “Fine, but you’re not going anywhere until I fix that tie of yours,” Dean gestured, “Were you raised in a barn?”
After some deep breaths and a map check, they found themselves back into the fray, but this time, together. They fought past the Roman enterprises' booth, maneuvered around a shady businessman named Crowley, were checked out by a company called Sandover, and a stern woman named Naomi tried her best to pull Castiel away, but Dean wouldn’t have it. It wasn’t until they were catching their breath in front of Singer’s Auto booth when a gruff man in overalls asked, “Do either of you idjits know your way around an engine?”
Turns out, he needed a new mechanical engineer, and someone to balance the books for his humble but impressive car restoration family business.
Miraculously, Dean and Castiel both walked out of that gymnasium with the best job offer either of them could have dreamt of, and a lunch date. Little did they know, they had just begun the start of a beautiful journey filled with found family, long fulfilling careers, and a passionate love story.