Chapter Text
Seventeen. Seventeen pieces of candy within twenty minutes. A grown-ass man has popped seventeen pieces of candy into his mouth during the last twenty minutes, and it's driving Dean nuts. You don't go to a diner for lunch unless you're actually going to order something, and you sure as hell don't go to a diner just to eat candy like a kid on halloween. The only reason Dean hasn't left the place yet, is because he wants pie for desert, and this place has the best pie in town.
As if she can sense his grumpyness, Ellen makes her way over to his table and pours him some more coffee. "If you don't stop glaring daggers into that boy's back, I'll soon have the cops asking me about a corpse", she says, her voice calm and amused.
"Yeah, well, the cops in this town could use a little excitement every now and then", Dean mutters back. "What's he even doing here, anyways? It's not like he's doing anyone a favor by excisting."
"I'll have you know, Gabriel is a regular, and he's a good man, so don't you go talking about my customers like that, boy." Ellen gives him a warning glare, and sits down in front of him. "What's got your panties in a twist today?" she asks in a softer voice.
Shrugging, Dean slumps back in his chair and drags a hand down his face. "I'm the worst father of the century."
Ellen chuckles and reaches a hand across the table to pat his arm. "I've seen worse."
"Gee, thanks", he sighs, but can't help a tiny smile from stretching his lips a little. "You know, I always thought Sam was bad during puberty. He was so... preachy. All 'we need to eat healthier, Dean', 'don't skip class, Dean', 'you should exercise more, Dean', and I couldn't stand it. I thought I'd never meet someone who could push my buttons like Sammy. I now realize I was incredibly naïve when I was younger." He scratches at the back of his neck and goes quiet for a moment, gazing out the window at all the people rushing through their lunch breaks, before looking back at Ellen and continuing. "Honestly, Ellen, you deserve a fucking medal. Jo turned out great, and I have no freaking idea how you managed that. She was bat-shit crazy for a while there, but you always stayed in control."
"Yeah, they can be a pain in the ass, really. Teenage girls are God's way of testing us." She crosses her arms and frowns at him. "Are you alright on your own? Maybe you should try to find someone to share the burden with?"
Now it's Dean's turn to chuckle. He shakes his head and continues smiling as his gaze once again drifts. It's not like the thought has never crossed his mind. He's a thirtysix-year-old single father of two; of course he has the occasional daydream about coming home to someone, about falling asleep and waking up next to someone. It's just not all that easy to find that someone. Dean's never been very good at comitting to relationships to begin with, and it's not like it's any easier when he has to think about his kids. If you have kids, you can't jump into bed with just anyone, and see where it goes. Even if that was a completely acceptable thing to do, it's not like Dean can do it, anyways. Ellen knows that better than anyone. And he's not on his own, even if he doesn't have a partner. He has his kids, and that's way more than he could have ever asked for.
After a few minutes have passed in silence, Ellen stands up. "I've got to get back to work. How about some apple pie?" she says with a wink.
As Dean enjoys the perfectly baked pie, sugarboy stuffs another thirteen pieces into his mouth. Actually, it's probably more than just thirteen, but the thing is, Dean lost count. The man sitting across from sugarboy caught his attention instead, and in Dean's own opinion, that man is a much more enjoyable view than his companion. Apart from possibly being the most attractive man Dean has ever seen, the guy is eating proper food, instead of just candy. It happens to be so, that he's currently eating apple pie, just like Dean himself, meaning he's not just pretty on the outside, but on the inside, too.
When he smiles, the man stretches his mouth so his gums are showing, and it's ridiculously cute. The corners of his eyes wrinkle in a very charming way, and help make his eyes stand out more. As if that's even needed, when you have the bluest eyes ever. It's totally stupid, but Dean spends the rest of his lunch staring at a stranger, memorizing his face. It's not like there's any harm in staring at someone you'll never talk to.
Just as he heaves a sigh and gets up to leave, however, the handsome stranger does the same, and they meet awkwardly by the door, simultaneously moving for the handle.
"Oh, I'm sorry. It was not my intention to be rude", the stranger says. He doesn't pull his hand back, like Dean already has. Instead, he tugs the door open and gestures for Dean to walk out ahead of him. "I couldn't help but notice you talking to Mrs. Harvelle earlier, and I wouldn't dream of offending a friend of hers", he smiles kindly once they're outside.
Returning the smile, Dean answers, "nah, don't worry about it, man. You've got nothing to apologize for. You're totally right wanting to keep Ellen on your good side, though."
The stranger laughs quietly, his eyes never leaving Dean's. In spite of everything that went through Dean's head only a matter of minutes ago, there's something pulling him in, making him want to get to know this man. Possessing very little self-control, he thrusts his hand out. "I'm Dean. Winchester."
"Castiel Novak", he answers easily. "Pleasure to meet you. I apologize for having to make this conversation short, but I have somewhere to be. I hope we'll meet again, Dean."
"Yeah, I'll see you around", Dean smiles, quickly covering up any possible signs of disappointment. He's only exchanged a few words with the guy, damnit, there's seriously no reason whatsoever for him to get upset about having to say goodbye so soon. Of course, that doesn't stop him from feeling a bit miserable when Castiel wishes him a nice day and walks away in the opposite direction.