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He should be here.
Castiel thinks it before he can stop himself— disappointment washing over him as he rings the doorbell for the required signature.
Logically, he knew there would eventually be a week where Charlie Bradbury, 345 Hillcrest Ave, Lawerence, Kansas would not have ordered something from both USPS and UPS to be delivered on the same day.
But it’d worked out that way for the last six months so Castiel thinks his disappointment is at least understandable if not warranted.
“Just a minute!” Charlie yells from behind the door as she always does, except this time Castiel doesn’t have a certain UPS driver to keep him company while Charlie does god knows what for the three minutes it takes her to get to the door.
He waits impatiently. With no UPS truck in sight, the time he has to make up is not worth it without the distraction of green eyes.
Charlie opens the door with a bright smile but it drops almost immediately when she sees Castiel standing alone on the doorstep. “Where’s Dean?”
Dean.
Castiel finds the name fits the man he’s spent a total of thirty-six minutes with. Admittedly, he knows very little about the man behind pretty much every one of his fantasies— sexual or otherwise. Until now, he didn’t even know the UPS driver’s name.
Most would say that’s not exactly a good basis for marriage, kids, and mind numbing sex— not that it ever stopped Castiel from thinking about those things.
He snaps back into reality as Charlie shouts, “Delayed?! Fuck it all to hell.”
Castiel is bewildered by her outburst, brought back to the real world abruptly but finding himself clinging to his most recent thought of what it’d be like to wrap gifts with Dean for Christmas.
His imagination knows no bounds when it comes to Dean.
“I’m… sorry?” Castiel isn’t sure why Charlie cares that Dean isn’t here. He’d say it’s because Dean is easily the most attractive human to walk the earth, but Castiel has noticed the way the woman who usually watches on as Charlie signs for her packages, named Dorothy Bradbury if her mail has any merit, looks at Charlie.
She loves her.
Castiel’s insides ache for something he can’t have with someone he barely knows and finds it all undeniably foolish.
“Yeah, me too.” Charlie sighs in response to Castiel’s acknowledgment. She signs for the package and Castiel nods his thanks and begins to turn away when the redhead grabs his arm and her eyes light up. “Wait! Do you work tomorrow?”
Castiel isn’t sure where this is going but he shakes his head no in response— he doesn’t work on Thursdays. While he doesn’t actually know this woman, she seems on the quirky side of normal and that’s usually the type of people Castiel finds himself gravitating towards. He selfishly hopes she asks to hang out.
“Ok good. Come here, around the same time, ok?”
Castiel finds himself nodding, confused, but trusting her for some reason, “Okay…”
She must read his hesitation because she starts cursing under her breath, “Fucking Dean… what an absolute... I swear the crap I do for him.” Charlie punctuates the confusing string of curses by rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath. Castiel can tell whatever she’s about to say is going to come out in monologue form— he’s going to have to make up so much time.
“Ok, look. Dean is my best friend and he’s like head over heels for you despite never getting up the damn nerve to actually ask you to hang out properly. He fawns like a teenage schoolgirl over the three minutes he practically begs me to give you two everytime I schedule packages to be delivered by the both of you. Don’t even get me started on scheduling packages— let’s just say sometimes it takes less than legal means to make sure you two idiots end up on my porch at the same time. I tried to tell him you definitely swing his way but he’s too chicken shit to actually do something about it—“
Castiel is stunned silent, quietly processing everything he just heard the fired up redhead say. Dean likes him ? He orchestrates these meetings? With his best friend?
Charlie stopped talking through Castiel’s breakdown, apparently picking up on the fact that his brain is now working on overdrive.
“…great you caught up. Anyway , I had finally convinced him that today he should make a move. No harm no foul, because in the small chance you aren’t interested in his hot piece of ass, then I can stop ordering so much crap that I just have to return every week. But now the damn package is delayed and I just know Dean got bogged down at work because otherwise he’d be here.”
Castiel is sure he looks like a fish with his jaw hanging slack at the onslaught of information he was just dumped with.
His brain is stuck on a weird loop of Dean likes ME like a lovesick romcom star, and if the look on Charlie’s face is anything to go by, she knows it.
“I knew it!” She practically squeals and then turns into her house, “Dor! I was right! Castiel does like Dean!”
How does she know my name? “How do you know my name?” Nice filter, Castiel.
Charlie goes beat red, her eyes widening, “Oh… I— uh—“
Castiel laughs, “Let me guess, in ‘less than legal’ ways?” He uses air quotes like his niece Claire taught him and Charlie laughs before looking down and breathes what Castiel is pretty sure is a sigh of relief.
When she meets his eyes again, she’s a bit calmer and her gaze turns serious, “He really likes you.” It comes out as though that explains why she knows Castiel’s name.
It does.
Castiel would be lying if he said he hadn’t tried to figure out Dean’s name, too— albeit without the help of a friend who sounds suspiciously like a hacker.
Flustered as all get out but unable to ignore the anticipation boiling inside, Castiel answers simply, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Charlie beams and Castiel swears he hears her squeal as he gets back in his mail truck.
…
“Charlie, I’m sorry the package got held up in Kansas City but he’s not coming. It’s Thursday. ” Dean knows Castiel doesn’t work on Thursdays.
“You’re infuriating, Dean Winchester.” Charlie levels him with a stare he’s seen a hundred times and he starts laughing.
“Seriously, Charlie, it’s fine. Maybe it’s a sign from the universe,” he waves his hands above his head for emphasis, knowing Charlie believes in all that woowoo crap and will hate that he’s sarcastically playing into it, “that this wasn’t meant to be.”
He grabs the clipboard from her hands and heads down the walkway, turning to walk backwards and finish his thought, “Besides, who was I to think I'd even have a chance with a guy like— shit!” He bumps into something solid— someone— and turns around frantically to apologize for not looking where he was going when he’s rendered speechless by the blue eyes that have overrun his dreams for the last six months. He sputters, “Oh— you— uh—“
Castiel isn’t in his uniform and Dean’s brain short circuits at the mailman’s casual jeans and tee shirt outfit.
AC/DC… nice.
It isn’t until Dean registers the smug look on Castiel’s face that he realizes he hasn’t said anything coherent since running the guy over. “You know, I think I’d like to hear the end of that sentence.” Castiel’s deep voice ricochets through Dean, igniting every single piece of him until he feels like he’s on fire but in the best way imaginable.
Christ, Winchester, get a grip.
“I would also like to hear the end of the sentence!” Charlie shouts from somewhere behind Dean and he whips around to shoot her a glare harsh enough to rival one of Sam’s bitchfaces. “Ugh, fine. Don’t soil the lawn you weirdos.”
Dean is mortified , but when he turns around Castiel is chuckling into his fist and he’s positive it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. They meet eyes and it’s a charged awkward for all of two seconds before Dean finally finds the words he’s been looking for since the first time he and Castiel happened to end up on Charlie’s doorstep at the same time, “Do you like burgers?”
Okay so those weren’t exactly the words he wanted to say.
Castiel looks a little taken aback by the abrupt question but smiles brightly most likely when he deciphers what Dean is actually asking, “They’re my favorite.”
Dean’s heart does some sort of stupid flip and he catches a twinkle in the mailman’s eye that tells him they’re on the same page, “Great! Uh, tomorrow at 6? I’ll pick you up?”
Castiel nods, “That works for me. Then you can tell me the end of that sentence…” He smirks knowingly and Dean feels his cheeks go red hot.
“You got it.” He indulges in the opportunity to stare at Castiel before realizing he’s now way behind on his shift, “Uh, I better get going…”
“Of course!” A flash of disappointment crosses the mailman’s face before realization must hit and he smiles a gummy smile again, “See you tomorrow, Dean.”
His name sounds different— perfect in a way he never thought it was when said in Castiel’s voice and Dean is realizing he may already be a goner. He walks back to the truck and as he’s settling into his seat he sees Castiel run towards the truck, “Wait! You don’t know where to pick me up!”
Dean’s face turns beet red again, realizing there is no legal way in which he should have Castiel’s address. The mailman must realize Dean’s predicament and starts laughing, “Lemme guess… Charlie?”
“How’d— you? I swear I was just—“
“Trust me, Dean, if I had the means, I would’ve been delivering random packages to your doorstep ages ago.” Castiel smirks once more, leaving Dean speechless with his admission, before turning to leave with a softer smile and a small wave.
As Dean drives away he shakes his head and wonders why he didn’t think of doing that months ago.