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Castiel unlocks the bakery door and the bell tinkles with a chirpy tone. It bangs against the glass door with a tank tank. The morning chill of fall in the city sets his teeth on edge and the soles of his shoes soak in the cold under his feet. Dean was driving the truck this morning from the loading dock and he needed to have the kitchen ready for the newest shipment of baking goods: flour, sugar, yeast, spices, butter–so much butter, chocolate chips, canned berries and fruit. The refrigerator truck delivering eggs will arrive after him and then the two of them will spend three hours prepping and kneading doughs and pastries. The delicate crisp of orange-cinnamon morning rolls. A mix between a flaky croissant and a crispy turnover with a dusting of cinnamon and a sprinkling of orange zest.
Jack’s favorite.
The husbands opened the bakery just last year and have had some cautious success with a growing customer base. Dean loves the customer chats and Castiel gets absorbed in the craft of baking. Sam is a great source for word-of-mouth publicity at his law office in the next borough over. When they added coffee to their menu, as a public defender, Sam was their main advertisement space.
The delivery truck rumbles down the back alley and Cas drops the dish towel he was wringing under the water into the wide stainless steel sink. He wipes his hands on his pants and rolls his eyes at his apron hanging against the wall. He jiggles the deadbolt open on the back door as Dean is backing the delivery truck up to the cement ramp in the narrow alley. The air brakes hiss and Cas hears the emergency brake grind into position. The driver’s door swings open and the thump of Dean’s heavy soles hits the asphalt.
“Hey Dean–” he starts with an excuse for his tardiness. Dean bounces on the balls of his feet with a grin and flips the keychain in the air.
“What?” he says tartly, “You still tired from this morning?”
He smirks as he unlatches the truck bay. Cas looks up and fails to suppress the blush on his pale cheeks. Dean blows him a salacious kiss and sticks his tongue out as the door rattles open. “Let’s get baking, Baby,” he says. Cas shakes his head and stops trying not to blush. He helps his husband with the freight and decides it’s not so bad if they’re a bit behind schedule this morning.