Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Monday mornings were particularly busy at Rise & Grind— the shop packed with people stopping in to get their caffeine fix before a day of work. It didn’t help either that the shop was located on Massachusetts Street, right in the heart of the central business district of Lawrence. Though, whenever he complained about the constant influx of customers, Pam, the owner of the café, made a point to remind him of how good the business was simply because of their location. Often the frequenters of the café were exhausted businessmen and women or the hipsters from KU—where he was a junior—who enjoyed “the laidback vibe” of the shop, with its mismatched furniture, exposed brick walls, and the soft sounds of lesser-known alternative music playing through the speakers.

On most days Dean didn’t mind coming to work. The shop had its regulars and most of them were friendly enough, even the hipster kids with their overly complicated orders and stick-it-to-the-man attitudes. It was a nice distraction from his problems, though his therapist warned him that just ignoring them was a bad idea, he needed to talk about them and work them out instead of just burying them. That had been what got him into trouble in the first place.  Today, however, Dean would have given anything to have stayed in bed, as he’d spent most of his night not in it.

He had stayed up until about two frantically studying for his Calc final—which he still didn’t feel adequately prepared for—and he’d only managed to get in about four hours of sleep before he had to get up and get ready for work. Whereas on a normal day Dean made an effort to talk to customers while making their drinks and to be as courteous a barista as possible, today he just didn’t feel up to it, but he forced a smile anyway and pushed on.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only barista on that day, and he had both Meg and Pam—who was a really cool boss in that she always pitched in when things got crazy, even though as the owner she could easily get out of it—to help handle the orders, which seemed to come in so rapidly that if he were alone he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it without screwing up and panicking. Even with him being sleep-deprived, they still managed to get through the morning with hardly any trouble.

Meg was in an especially foul mood that day and if Dean were a stupid man, he’d have assumed it was PMS. But he was best friends with Charlie, who was a girl, so he’d be an idiot and an asshole to automatically assume that.

She was a huge bitch, though. When Dean accidently bumped into her, she all but freaked out on him, acting as if he had done it on purpose to upset her. Then, when Dean wanted to go on his break, she complained to Pam that he got a longer break than she did.

He wasn’t sure what crawled up her ass but he was about five seconds away from yelling at her right back. It’d serve her right, but it’d probably also get him fired. So instead he ignored her and eventually she fucked off to the back of the shop where he honestly didn’t care what she did, so long as she was gone.

Dean had managed to get through most of his six-hour shift without nodding off and only found himself falling asleep standing up at the counter after the rush ended and the store cleared out. The store was empty other than the elderly woman reading and sipping a cup of chai tea in the corner and a group of three girls giggling amongst themselves at a table near the door. No one needed anything at the moment, so shutting his eyes wouldn’t be a huge deal, would it?

Just when Dean felt himself begin to slip away into sleep, he was jolted awake by someone clearing their throat. When he opened his eyes he was met with a pair of intense eyes that were quite similar in color to the Caribbean Sea. The man these gorgeous eyes belonged to was watching him with an amused smirk on his lips. And not only that, but he had a lip ring, which only served to make the man that much more attractive.

“Long night?” Blue Eyes asked, studying him in a way that Dean might have thought he was checking him out if he were anyone but Dean Winchester. Dean had instantly felt a chill run up his spine at the deepness of the man’s voice. He had the kind of voice that Dean would love to hear whisper in his ear while—he cut himself off right there, mentally berating himself for letting his mind go there.

“Studying,” Dean said with a tired sigh. He wasn’t entirely sure why letting the other man know what he’d been up doing was so important. “I have a Calc final this afternoon and I’m not at all prepared for it, but if I don’t pass it I’m screwed because I need this class for my major.”

“And what might that be?” The other man asked, looking, much to Dean’s surprise, very interested in Dean’s answer.

“Mechanical engineering,” Dean said, albeit hesitantly. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his major, not at all, but most people tended to think one of two things about people in his major—one, that they were all a bunch of hopeless nerds, much like the ones on Big Bang Theory, or two, that they were all arrogant assholes who thought they were better than everyone because their major involved some difficult math. Dean really didn’t want Blue Eyes to think either one of those things about him.

“Hmm, my first guess would have been teaching. You’ve got that math teacher vibe. What a shame.” Blue Eyes shook his head, like this truly was a huge injustice.

“Uh,” Dean, ever the eloquent speaker, said in response. He wasn’t entirely sure how else to respond to that. “Thanks, I think?”

“Clarence!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Meg emerge from the back of the shop where she had likely been clocking out for the day, given it was almost noon. He watched as she approached the counter with a smile, an actual real-life smile on her face. Meg never smiled, and here this Clarence guy was able to make her smile with just his presence? What the hell?

“Ready to go?” Clarence asked turning his attention to his coworker and it was then that Dean noticed the helmet in his hands, a motorcycle helmet, by the looks of it.

Meg threw her oversized bag over her shoulder and nodded, coming around the counter and heading for the door, only coming to a stop when she realized that the other man wasn’t following her, but was instead looking at Dean in a way that made him think he might say something, only the expression changed the second Meg cleared her throat, making him meet her impatient gaze and sigh.

Clarence looked back to Dean who was currently lamenting the fact that this man, this unbelievably gorgeous man was not only straight but obviously dating Meg, who pretty much hated his guts. Dean wasn’t 100% sure why she hated him, exactly, but he figured it might have something to do with the fact that he turned her down back in high school when she wanted to hook up with him. Even though he was bisexual and more than capable of having feelings for the opposite sex, Meg just wasn’t his type, and when he told her as much, she took great offense to that.

“Well goodbye, um…?”

“Dean,” He said quickly, grateful he could at least remember his name.

Clarence looked amused by this and the smile, an actual smile instead of a smirk, on his face seemed to meet his eyes as well. “Goodbye, Dean,” he said softly before following Meg from the café. Dean watched him leave with what felt like a rock in the pit of his stomach, caught between hoping to see the other man again and wishing this would be the one and only time.

Unfortunately for Dean, this turned out to be only the first of Clarence’s daily visits to Rise & Grind. On Tuesday he showed up at around the same time again, just after the morning rush came to an end, but this time, he ordered a Grande Cappuccino and a glazed donut. While Dean made his order, he and Clarence talked. Dean learned that Clarence worked at the bookstore down the street, the Book Nook, where his friend Charlie also happened to work. Castiel and she were apparently very good friends and often worked the same shift. They talked a little about her and all the shenanigans she got them both into. Dean also learned that he was an English major at KU. He lived in an apartment near campus with his brother, Gabriel, and he had a cat named Naomi who was very sweet to him but not many others.

The more Dean learned about this wonderful man, the more that uncomfortable rock in his stomach seemed to weigh. Clarence was pretty much everything Dean could ask for in a guy—sweet, good with animals, smart—and that was leaving out how gorgeous he was. It was awful to have feelings for the other man, knowing full well that he would never feel the same. It was almost like being held underwater and try as he might, never getting to the surface. And eventually, he’d drown.

Dean hadn’t felt this helpless since before he and Sam moved in with Bobby during his sophomore year of high school. But Dean didn’t want to think about that right now.

When Dean gave Clarence his drink, the other man chuckled and met Dean’s eyes with a raised eyebrow, “Dean, Clarence is just a nickname Meg gave me. My real name is Castiel, or Cas if you prefer.”

“Alright, Cas,” Dean said, testing out the new name and finding that he liked this name much better than Clarence, which reminded him way too much of It’s a Wonderful Life, which hit too close to home for comfort.

Meg came out from the back room after a little while, bag over her arm and looking impatient from where she stood near the door, not even sparing Dean a glance but instead focusing on her boyfriend. “Come on, angel, let’s go.”

Cute, Dean thought miserably, a pet name. He probably calls her something cutesy like sweetheart or baby.

Cas said goodbye and wished him luck on his Physics exam that afternoon, which he’d been complaining about not being ready for but which Cas assured him he’d do fine on because if the expert way he talked about the subject said anything, he’d probably walk out with an A. The rock feeling in his gut softened a little at that, but when Meg cleared her throat impatiently, he was reminded that this man had a girlfriend and was not interested in him, no matter how many times he smiled at him or laughed at his jokes or complimented him.

That night, Dean and Charlie had their movie night at his apartment. Sam was at the movies with his girlfriend and probably wouldn’t be back until late, so it was just the two of them marathoning the Ghostbusters movies.

“Oh come on, it doesn’t look that bad,” Charlie said, tossing a piece of popcorn at Dean, who was sprawled out on the other end of the couch. “I mean, have you seen Kate McKinnon? She’s like a blonde Ruby Rose or something.” Charlie got a faraway look on her face for a moment, and Dean threw a pillow at her head to break the trance.

“Hey, no sexy thoughts during movie night,” Dean warned and Charlie stuck her tongue out in response, making him roll his eyes. “Dude, they aren’t even making this a sequel or anything, it’s a full-on reboot. I couldn’t care less that they’re women, honestly. I think that’s pretty cool that they changed it up. But I don’t like how they’re pretending the whole original series never happened.”

“I agree with you, but I just think that you ought to go see it before you give it zero stars,” Charlie shrugged. “You never know; it might actually be good.”

Dean groaned but eventually agreed to go with Charlie that weekend to see the movie. After that, they watched the rest of the first movie, and while Charlie was making more popcorn and Dean was putting in the second, it occurred to Dean that he never mentioned the thing with Cas to Charlie, who was all for shit-talking.

“Hey, Charlie?” Dean called from where he was crouched down on the floor, and when she didn’t answer right away, he pulled himself up and moved to the doorway to the kitchen. “You work with a guy named Castiel, right?”

Charlie hummed an affirmative. “Nice guy, incredibly dreamy. If I swung that way, I’d be all over that in a heartbeat. What about him?”

“Uh, well, he comes into work sometimes and we talk and uh…” Dean trailed off.

“Oh, do you like him?” Charlie asked, suddenly seeming much more interested in the conversation. “I can put in a good word for you if you want. Talk you up and stuff.”

“I think he has a girlfriend,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Meg, actually.”

Charlie froze, not turning to look at her friend right away. “What makes you think that?”

“Just the way they act and stuff,” He says, He picks her up from work every day and she calls him pet names and it just all seems so couple-y.”

“Maybe they’re just good friends,” Charlie suggested, though something in her voice was off. When the microwave went off, Charlie visibly relaxed and she turned her attention to opening the bag and pouring it into the big bowl they’d been using.

“See, we’re good friends and we never call each other pet names,” Dean argued. He wondered what was up with Charlie all of a sudden.

“Well honey, I’m not sure then,” Charlie said pleasantly, smirking when Dean narrowed his eyes at her. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Ask him, yeah right. Because Dean could totally just walk up and ask Cas if he was dating Meg without sounding either nosy or like he had a crush, which he did, but he didn’t want to come off that way. The last thing in the world he wanted was to come off as creepy.

No, what he had to do was back off and forget about Cas. Dean Winchester wasn’t a man-stealer.

Chapter Text

On Wednesday, Cas came in while Dean was in the back taking out the donuts that were in the fryer and putting them on a cooling rack. When he came to the front again, he saw Cas walk out the door with Meg, who called a goodbye to no one in particular over her shoulder, and Cas looked back as well, his eyes finding Dean, who was just kind of standing there watching like a creep. He smiled and waved before disappearing past the windows.

Thursday was an astronomically shitty day. He was supposed to have had off for the day and have been able to sleep in and study for his finals, but nope, Meg called in sick and he ended up having to go in to fill in for her. He couldn’t help but picture Cas playing nurse and taking care of Meg, and an ugly feeling of jealousy twisted in his gut at the mere thought of it. He had no right to be mad, though. Cas could do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. The sad truth was that Dean had no say and never would.

So basically Dean spent the whole day making drinks when he was supposed to be studying and by the time he got home that afternoon, he was way too exhausted to study. I mean, sure he’d made an extra day’s money but his finals were pretty important when he only had one more year after this of his undergrad before moving onto grad school.

By this point Dean was convinced that Meg was faking being sick because the girl never seemed to get sick. Why the hell would she start now? No, probably she and Cas wanted to be alone and she called out to spend time with him.

Not only did that make him angry because he was jealous, but that would have made him angry in general. She made him have to give up his day off just to spend time with a boyfriend she probably sees all the time, if the fact that he picked her up every day said anything. She also had absolutely no consideration for his studies or for his wellbeing in general, and only thought of herself. Dean knew she didn’t like him, but goddamn, was it really necessary to fuck him over as well?

Friday was Meg’s day off, so he knew not to expect a visit from the other man that day. While he loved talking to Cas, it was really a relief to not have to worry about those pesky feelings that tended to pop up in Cas’ presence. They were still around when he was gone, sure, but they were much more manageable when he wasn’t looking into those brilliant blue eyes and wishing he could run his fingers through those messy brown locks.

The time when Cas usually came in to pick up Meg came and went without any visit from the other man, and Dean found himself both relieved and disappointed. It was a good thing, though, because he needed this break to start moving on. His crush on the other man wasn’t healthy for him, and it only served to make him depressed in the end, because he knew it would never amount to anything. And for a man who already had self-worth issues, he really didn’t need the extra dose of self-doubt this crush provided.

Dean thought he was doing great. He had hardly thought of Cas all day, having kept himself busy with work and talking to customers. That was one thing he could always count on. There would always be a customer who wanted to stay around to chat, especially the older ones who had nowhere else to be. Around two the bell above the door jingled, but Dean was so busy talking to Mrs. Jackson that he didn’t really think about it very hard.

Ruth Jackson, the older woman who lived on the floor below him in his apartment complex, was telling him about the tomatoes she was growing in a planter out on her balcony and if he’d want any when they ripened when a clearing throat snapped his attention to the next person in line behind Ruth, forcing him to meet a pair of familiar ocean-colored eyes that were raking over him carefully, but stopped when Dean looked his way.

He’s with Meg, he reminded himself. He’s with Meg and he’s happy.

Not like Dean had much to offer anyway. He was sort of cute in a dorky way with his sandy blonde hair, pretty green eyes, and his black thick-rimmed glasses that made him look like a nerd or a hipster, but cute doesn’t really make much of a difference when the cute guy is also an anxious mess of a person who suffers from frequent panic attacks as a result of his crippling fear of failure. Nah, Cas was much better off with Meg.

Despite telling himself over and over again to move on from his hopeless crush, every time Cas came in and they talked and Cas showed an actual interest in his life, Dean got a little hopeful, and hopeful was bad. Hopeful meant attachment and attachment meant heartbreak. So as a result, Dean dreaded seeing the other man, not because he didn’t like him, but because he liked him too much. Dean wanted the other man to honestly like him romantically instead of as just a friendly barista he talked to sometimes.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just walked in and made Dean’s mind go to mush. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have to get back to work in a minute. I’m only on a ten-minute break right now.”

Dean glanced at Ruth, feeling a bit guilty for blowing her off, even if it was to do his job, but the older woman just waved him off, saying, “Oh, don’t worry about it dear, I have to get back and water my vegetables now anyway. And besides,” She said with a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes, leaning across the counter with her hand cupping the side of her mouth, as if to tell Dean a secret, but saying it just loud enough for Cas and anyone else close by to hear, “He’s cute.” She looked between the two of them briefly, winking at Dean, and turned for the door, coffee in hand.

Dean’s face was burning as he watched the older woman disappear through the front door, causing the bell to jingle in her wake. Dean then turned his attention to the man in front of him, rather shyly. Cas looked rather pleased with himself, only causing Dean to flush a darker shade.

“Cute, huh?” Cas said, like it was something truly amusing to him, leaning casually against the counter. Dean tried his hardest not to react, but he felt himself wince a little at Cas’ comment. Was Cas making fun of him?

“Good luck with that, buddy. Ruth’s a wild one,” he said, trying for humor instead of feeding into Cas’ little game. Dean took a rag from the bucket in the corner and used it to wipe the counter rather than meeting the other man’s gaze. He didn’t think he could handle seeing the disgust on Cas’ face, nor could he hear the deliberate ridicule of Dean’s not-so-secret feelings for him that would force him from his silly fantasies of his feelings ever being returned.

“Oh, I’m sure she is,” Cas laughed, and when Dean looked up, the other man was looking at him with a wide smile, which left Dean very confused. Cas leaned forward like Ruth did, copying her cupped mouth and saying softly, so only Dean could hear it, “But she’s not exactly my type.”

Dean wasn’t really sure what to do with that. He didn’t exactly want to talk about Meg or any other person that might be Cas’ type because odds are it would only make him feel incredibly jealous, and he’d been doing so good this morning with keeping his feelings in check. It’d almost be like a relapse if he let himself have that conversation.

“Dean?” Cas asked when Dean said nothing, nervously playing with his lip ring with his teeth and fidgeting where he stood. “Wouldn’t you like to know what my type is?”

Something in Dean snapped at that, causing him to continue in a mocking-calm voice, a lackluster smile on his face even as he felt his world shift into panic mode. “Oh, I already know what your type is, Castiel. Abrasive, sarcastic brunettes with serious attitude problems who hate my guts. And hell, for all I know she’s the one who put you up to this, am I right? Does Meg really hate me that much?”

“Meg?” Cas asked and Dean almost saw red when the other man dared look confused. “Dean, I have no idea what you’re—”

“Meg. She’s your girlfriend and she found out I’m into you so she decided to fuck with my head and make me think you might actually like me,” Dean said, feeling his breath start to quicken and the panic starts to spread through him. He was so stupid, letting himself get attached to Cas. Meg probably had this all planned out to make him feel like shit. Dean’s heart was racing, beating rapidly over and over until he was sure everyone could hear it. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“Dean?” Cas asked worriedly, looking at him with wide fearful eyes. Dean’s rapid breathing and clutching his chest were probably the cause of that. He came around the counter and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Dean shook his head and out of the corner of his eye he saw Pam standing in the doorway. She came over and placed a hand on Dean’s other shoulder.

“You okay honey?” She asked and when Dean didn’t answer, she looked to Cas, “Can you take him outside to calm down? I’ll cover for him at the counter. Just get him to breathe.”

Everything between then and when he got outside was a blur of people and worried faces of the kitchen staff as Dean was rushed through the back, passed the kitchen and office, and out the back door. He felt Cas lean him up against the wall and he heard his name being said. He opened his eyes and met Cas’ worried ones.

“Dean, breathe for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?” Cas asked him, placing his hands on Dean’s shoulders to hold him upright. Dean took a deep breath and held it like the therapist told him to, then let it out slowly, though it sounded shaky. He did it again and again until his breathing was relatively normal, though his body felt weak and his eyes were watery. “Are you okay?”

Dean was about to say yes when he remembered what Cas had said, saying with his voice still rough-sounding. “You called me sweetheart.”

Cas blushed and looked down before shyly bringing his eyes back up to meet Dean’s. “Sorry about that, I won’t do it again. Just kind of got caught up in everything.”

“But Meg—”

“Like I was trying to tell you before, Meg isn’t my girlfriend. She’s dating Charlie,” Cas said, looking at Dean with his head cocked sideways in confusion. “Didn’t Charlie tell you that?”

“Uh, no,” Dean said, adjusting himself so he was leaning more comfortable against the wall, which brought him closer to Cas. He could smell the other man’s musky cologne, but he fought to ignore it, focusing on the problem at hand. “We don’t even talk about Meg except when she’s being a bitch to me at work.”

“Maybe she thought you’d be mad,” Cas suggested, and Dean instantly felt awful. His own best friend didn’t think she could trust him. Sure, he didn’t like Meg very much and she didn’t like him either, but if she made Charlie happy, he’d deal with it.

“Okay well, maybe Meg isn’t your girlfriend but you’re straight dude,” Dean said, though even he knew how weak that argument sounded. He’d just been told that he wasn’t dating Meg, which was the only reason why Dean had believed he was straight.  

Cas’ eyes went wide with surprise, then seconds later, he burst into laughter. When he finally calmed down after a moment of hysterical laughter, he said, “Dean, I’ve been flirting with you for days now and you think I’m straight? Would a straight man have this big of a crush on another man?”

“So you’re gay?” Dean asked, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice. There was still a chance he’d scare the other man away with his eagerness.

“Queer as a three-dollar bill,” Cas confirmed happily. A shy smile spread across the other man’s face then. “Does this mean you’d want to go out with me sometime?”

Dean was surprised. “You’re still interested in me after just seeing that?”

Cas’ face turned serious and he placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder again, looking him in the eye. “Dean, you are not damaged. You have high anxiety that leads to panic attacks, but that does not mean you’re broken.”

“Uh,” Dean didn’t really want to open that can of worms right then, before they’d even gone on an actual date of any kind, but he appreciated the effort. “Thanks, I guess,” he said, giving the man a grateful smile. “And Cas?”

“Hmm?”

“You can call me sweetheart if you want, just so you know,” Dean said, looking at the ground with his face burning bright red as he said the words, but they made Cas’ smile widen.

“Okay, sweetheart, do you want to go out tomorrow?” Cas asked, looking outwardly smug, but Dean could see the undercurrent of uncertainty reflected in his eyes. “We can maybe go to a movie or—”

That sounded awesome to Dean and he was just about to tell him that when suddenly something occurred to Dean and he cursed out loud, causing Cas to look very worried. Dean shook his head when he noticed, and said, “Not you, just that I told Charlie I’d go see the shitty new Ghostbusters with her this weekend.”

“Why is it automatically shitty if you haven’t even seen it yet?” Cas asked, adorably cocking his head in question.

“Oh my god, you sound like fucking Charlie,” Dean said, throwing his hands up, as if giving up. “Fine, you’re right, I’ll see it first and then I’ll rant about its shittiness. Better?”

“Much,” Cas smirked, clearly enjoying being right. Dean rolled his eyes and was about to ask the other man when else he was available to go out when Cas said, “Why don’t we make it a double date then? You and me and Charlie and Meg.”

“Um, because Meg hates my guts and would probably put arsenic in my popcorn given the first chance,” Dean said, like it was obvious.

“I promise Meg will be on her best behavior,” Cas promised, and although Dean was skeptical, he agreed. Though he reserved the right to throw her out of the car and make her walk if she was an asshole.

“Deal,” Cas said, leaning into Dean where he still leaned against the back wall. Dean smirked though and pulled back, making Cas look at him with confusion all over his face.

“Uh uh,” Dean tsked with a gleam of mischief in his eyes, “I’m not that kind of girl, Cas. I usually wait until I’ve been taken out on a proper date.”

Cas groaned but ultimately agreed, making Dean smile and chuckle before leaning in and pressing a kiss to the other man’s lips, though it was chaste and left the other man chasing his lips and causing him to blush when he realized.

“But I think I can make an exception, just this once.”

Chapter Text

Dean’s eyes opened slowly to reveal a very smudged view of his living room, caused by the smears of facial oils on his glasses from where they’d been squished into his face while he was asleep, face pressed up against a throw pillow. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but Dean recalled plopping down on the couch to relax before his date that night, sinking down into the couch and switching on the previous night’s episode of Doctor Sexy, which he had technically already watched when it was on but had barely paid any attention to because he’d been texting Cas the entire episode. The whole time he and Cas texted that night, a smile pulled at his lips and a faint blush colored his cheeks, much to the amusement of Sam, who teased him mercilessly like just about any younger sibling would do in his position. Their texts that were full of little bits of information about themselves, playful banter, and more than a bit of shameless flirting.

The last thing Dean remembered before he must have slipped into sleep was the beginnings of a steamy sex scene between two characters--he wasn’t entirely sure who between because he obviously didn’t pay much more attention this time around than he did the last. Now, however, the television screen showed nothing but a black screen.

He reached into his pocket, yawning as he pulled out his phone and turned on the screen to reveal the obnoxiously bright screen, which he turned down to about halfway, then gave his eyes a second to adjust. His phone was unfortunately only at about 30% because he hadn’t charged it since that morning, which was an issue he supposed, but not as big as the one he faced when he saw the time, which almost made him drop the offending device.

When he’d come home from his 12-5 shift, it was just after 5:30 and he’d had plenty of time to do pretty much whatever before he got dressed. He hadn’t thought he had anything to worry about when he settled down to watch Doctor Sexy, but evidently, he underestimated his uncanny ability to fuck everything up.

According to his phone, it was already 7:20 pm. Cas was supposed to pick him up at eight. Dean’s mind started going a mile a minute, thinking of all the things he had to do and how little time he had to do them—he’d planned to pick his outfit, get in the shower, get dressed, style his hair to make it look a bit neater than usual. After that, he would have about thirty minutes of buffer time to ensure that he’d be ready by the time Cas arrived with the girls to pick him up. But all those plans were going right down the drain all because he fucking fell asleep.

Now with only a little over a half hour to spare before his date, Dean was very close to losing his shit. Sure, he had been tired, and under normal circumstances, he might have been able to excuse himself, but falling asleep for four hours when he had a date with a guy he really liked and who actually liked him back? Not good, not good at all. He was running ridiculously behind schedule now and he still had absolutely no idea what he was wearing or anything. Originally, he hadn’t found any problem with this because he’d given himself two hours to figure all this stuff out, but after his impromptu nap, he was lucky if he could even squeeze in a shower.

Instead of having the massive meltdown his anxiety was trying to force him to have, Dean decided to just work with what he had and try to stay as calm as possible about it, which was no small feat for him. His anxiety was sky high, but as he climbed in the shower, all the while doing the breathing exercises his therapist had instructed him to do, he felt his heart rate start to slow down to normal, or as normal as he could manage after the day he’d had.

He’d been on edge all day long, waking up nervous because of his date that night and snapping at Sam just before he’d left for work about a towel on the floor only to hurry out the door almost immediately after out of guilt. Then there was the short temper he’d had at work, almost having gone off on a rude customer—something he never did, no matter how impolite they were to him—and cursing colorfully under his breath at the coffee machine when it jammed during the morning rush and he’d been forced to fix it while a long line of impatient people formed. Pam even made him go on his break early because he was such a wreck. Really, the whole day had turned out to be one great big mess and by the time Dean got home, he was exhausted to the point where he could feel his fatigue deep in his bones.

He should have known, if not by the full-body exhaustion then by his droopy eyelids, that he’d fall asleep, and maybe if he’d been in the right mindset to think about it, he’d have chugged a coffee to keep himself awake. But it was much too late for that now.

Dean ended up rushing through what was normally his favorite part of the day—hurriedly washing himself and brushing his teeth (yes, he was that kind of person), rinsing off the suds, and drying off. He’d managed to turn what was normally a half-hour long project into a ten minute one, and while he was somewhat impressed, he was mostly disappointed that he hadn’t been able to enjoy it.

Before this whole disaster of a day, Dean had thought he’d have more time to think about his outfit, but he ended up just having to pick something quickly and throw it on, much to his dismay. He had picked a pair of Levi’s that he knew made his ass look good and a black t-shirt with a hunter green and white flannel that he rolled up to just below his elbows. He only just had enough time to put on his shoes, a pair of black Vans, and spray a bit of cologne before there was a knock at the door, signaling that Cas was here to pick him up.

Dean hurried to answer the door, nearly tripping over his own feet on his way. His heart was pounding from how nervous he was, but he put a smile on his face when he opened the door, only to find that it wasn’t Cas standing in front of him, but rather the dark-haired nightmare he’d been dreading seeing.

“Hiya, Dean-o,” Meg said with a smirk clearly pronounced on her round face, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief as they dragged over the contents of the living room behind him. Dean felt his stomach clench as he waited for her to comment. He knew his apartment wasn’t the nicest one, given he was paying for a two-bedroom on a barista’s salary (and from working part-time at Bobby’s shop in the summer), but it was his, and he didn’t want to hear her shit all over it. But when her eyes met his, she only smiled and said, “Nice place.”

Dean honestly thought he was dreaming. Did Meg just… compliment him? Well, his apartment, but still. He never thought he’d live to see the day.

Before Dean got the chance to stutter out a response, Charlie came around the corner next to his apartment, probably having just come off the elevator, and stood behind Meg wrapping her arms around the shorter girl, who was now smiling softly in a way that took Dean by surprise. It was the gentlest and most honest expression Dean had ever seen on the other girl, and to be honest, happy looked good on her.

Whatever doubts Dean had initially had about Meg’s intentions with his best friend dissipated immediately at the sight of the two of them together. He might not like Meg and she certainly didn’t like him very much, but he did have to say that the couple looked very happy together, which in turn made him happy.

“So,” Charlie said, dragging out the word. Her attention was now firmly on Dean, though her hold on her girlfriend didn’t loosen. She studied Dean top to bottom, nodding at his choice in shirt and humming appreciatively when her eyes skimmed over his jeans, which he knew she recognized as his date pants (not that he often had dates to wear them to), though she frowned at his Vans, which were obviously worn in, even despite the black mostly masking the coffee stains he knew he’d probably got at work. He expected her to chastise him on wearing dirty shoes, but instead, she said, “You look good.”

Dean breathed out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed her validation until he’d got it. Satisfied with the fact that at least he looked good, he turned to the short oak bookshelf next to the door and took his keys from where they lay in an old Halloween bowl they’d been using as a catch-all tray. He patted down his pockets for his phone, which he was thankful he’d had enough sense to plug in to charge before he hopped in the shower, and when he found that it was in fact there, he stepped out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him and using his key to lock it. Sam wouldn’t be home from his shift at the Ladybird Diner for another hour or so and knew about Dean’s date, so he’d made sure, at Dean’s insistence, to check and double check that he had his own key on him before he left that morning.

As they started toward the elevator around the corner, the two girls ahead of him now holding hands and walking close together, something occurred to him, “Uh, guys? Where is Cas?” For a moment, he worried that Cas had bailed on their date. That would explain why Meg was being civil and why she and Charlie had come up to get him sans Cas. Thankfully before Dean could sink down into the pit of despair and self-loathing that he so often found himself residing in, Meg rolled her eyes and said with a dramatic sigh, “Chill out spaz, he’s in the car. There weren’t any spots left aside from a handicap spot, which you know he would never take, so he decided to just stop and put his hazards on.”

Dean hummed his understanding, but that didn’t really explain everything. “Why send you up instead of just leaving you with the car?”

Charlie giggled, her cheeks going pink and covering her lower neck with her hand, “Uh, Cas may have done that because of us. He claimed he didn’t want us messing around in his car while he was gone… again, and he figured we wouldn’t be able to get away with it this time if he sent us up here.”

Meg smirked at her girlfriend’s attempts to cover her mark, “Not true. I mean, we could have fooled around in the elevator for all he knew.”

“Oh, gross,” Dean said, frowning at the mental image of his best friend and she-devil girlfriend making out in the elevator of his apartment. Most of the tenants of his small three story building knew Charlie because of how often she was at his place and he could only imagine the gossip he’d be subjected to if they’d been caught by one of them. “Charlie, do you want to make my life in this place a living hell? What if Hansen had seen you? She’d never let me live it down.”

Mrs. Hansen was the nosey bird lady who lived down the hall. They called her this both because of her parrots, Reuben and Peaches, who she liked to claim were so sweet together, and because she herself had a nose like a beak. The woman was clearly a bit senile because she was utterly convinced that he and Charlie were the perfect couple and would have the most beautiful babies, even though he’d told her countless times that Charlie was very much a lesbian and he was very gay.

“Dean, she’s like 70 and has dementia,” Charlie said, putting extra emphasis on the last word. By this point, they were in the elevator heading down to the lobby, if one could even call the small sitting room filled with thrift store bought sofas and tables as a lobby. “That’s why her granddaughter Beth had to move in last year because she’d started forgetting to shower and feed her birds—the poor babies. If she can hardly remember to do those things, then she’d probably forget whatever she may have seen in like an hour anyway.”

“Or maybe we’d just be that memorable,” Meg joked, making Charlie laugh and Dean gag at the thought.

When they got outside, Dean looked around for a car with the hazards on. Cas had told him over text last night that he drove a gold ’78 Lincoln Continental, which Dean promptly dubbed the “Pimpmobile”. It was currently parked in the middle of the small lot, the engine off and the driver sitting in the front seat smoking a cigarette out the window.

Dean walked up to the car, unbeknownst to Cas, who had yet to notice him until he came over to the driver’s side, looking down at the other man while he bit his lip. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

Something like embarrassment at having been caught passed over the other man’s face and he promptly dropped the cigarette to the ground. Dean put it out with his shoe, his eyes never leaving Cas’.

“Um, sometimes. Only really when I’m nervous,” Cas said, giving him the smallest of anxious smiles. “Is that a deal breaker?”

Dean, being an asthmatic, wasn’t thrilled that his date smoked but it wasn’t a deal breaker. To ease the worries of his date, he smiled. “No, but just try not to do it too close to me because of my asthma.”

“Noted,” Cas said with his usual smirk, his nerves now quelled.

“Can we fucking leave already?” Meg said impatiently from the back seat, her arms crossed and her expression one of boredom. “My girlfriend wants to see this damn movie and I want food so stop making eyes at each other and let’s go. You can eye-fuck later. Or hell, actually fuck if you so please.”

“Meg!” Charlie said, nudging her girlfriend’s shoulder and frowning, though she didn’t look particularly mad. “Don’t interrupt them. They were being cute.”

Meg looked at Charlie exasperatedly, her voice giving away the calm sort of defeat she felt. “You already started shipping them, didn’t you?”

“I started shipping them a while ago, babe,” Charlie said with a smile that said she knew exactly how much she was annoying her girlfriend, but she leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against Meg’s lips. “Stop looking so grumpy or I’ll start calling you Grumpy Cat.”

“Well, I’ll be less so when pretty boy here gets in the goddamn car and we leave,” Meg said grouchily, crossing her arms over her chest and leveling Dean with a cold stare that said very clearly that he’d best get in the car if he knew what was good for him.

When Dean was in the car, they pulled out of the parking lot and started in the direction of the nearest movie theater, which was only a few minutes away from Dean’s apartment on Louisiana Street. The ride was mostly silent, other than the occasional giggle from the back seat, though Dean could have sworn he caught Cas looking at him a few times at stoplights. He couldn’t tell for sure, however, because he’d been trying not to make it obvious that he was secretly sneaking looks of his own.

He almost felt like he was a teenager on his first date again. And when Cas reached over and took his hand, twining their fingers together on the bench seat, Dean felt a fluttering in his stomach and couldn’t stop smiling the whole drive there.