Fic: Meet the Family

[majestic_duxk]

Artist: chargetransfer
Author: majesticduxk
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore
Rating: T
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Gabriel, Jessica Moore, Cassie Robinson, Benny Lafitte, Chuck, Amara, OCs
Kinks/warnings: serial dating, au, bartender!dean, humour, mild angst, family relations, barista!castiel, previous Dean/Cassie, previous Dean/Benny, previous Dean/Amara, fluff, unadulterated fluff, romance, family, humour,
Summary: Dean gets caught in a pair of sparkling eyes. But he is not going to date a customer again. It’s just not happening.

a/n This was written for the Destiel Reverse Big Bang. Many thanks for my wonderful artist, chargetransfer, for the inspiration and seriously cute art!
Also many thanks to angrysouffle and smightymcsmightersonfor the cheering! muchos gracias! And a thousand and twelve thank yous to shipperslist, whose excellent feedback has made all the difference. Thankyou to the mods for organising the challenge!

~o~

“You got dumped again?”

Dean shrugged awkwardly. He wasn’t actually sure what to say to Sam. Not that he had said anything yet. It had only happened last night, but it had been pretty public. Now that he thought about it, that hadn’t been wasn’t nice of Cassie – at his work of all places!

----------


Dean choked on his water, and immediately wished it was a beer. What the fuck was this conversation?

“They didn’t think you were respectful enough when you came for dinner the other day. And I have to say, Dean, I agree.”

“Uh… I didn’t think I was rude…”

Cassie had been the I’m slightly too good for this bar kinda person. And since Dean didn’t hit on his customers, he invited her to come to laser tag with the gang. Charlie had been mad at him, and Cassie looked like she would be good in a fight.

And she had been. Magnificent! Hair tossed over one shoulder, she faced down her enemies with a sneer, and Dean knew without a doubt, she was going in for the kill. It was one of the things he’d liked about her, certainty where other people feared to go.

Dean hadn’t realised she would apply that to every aspect of her life.

“There’s more to a relationship than that. And I deserve more.” Draining her drink, Cassie let the cup fall with a bang, before throwing a hundred on the counter. “Keep the change, Dean.”

And with that she sauntered out.

Dean swore, yet again, to stop meeting people at work. It never worked out.

-----------

“How many times is that?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean looked away. It was the same as last time. It didn’t really count as being dumped if you didn’t know you were going out. Right?

Not that there was any point discussing it. Intellectually, he knew Sam was just looking out for him. But that didn’t mean his brother understood! Oh no, he had his perfect relationship with his perfect girlfriend. Jess was the love of his and they had been together since they were 15, Jess’s parents were, not to put too fine a point on it - normal. And it carried through the genes: Jess was steady and solid and nice; perfect for his brother in every respect.

Sam and Jess actually looked forward to spending time with Jess’s folks, even having regular dinners over there. Nerds, Dean thought fondly.

Not that Dean never met… ok, so normal wasn’t the right word, but if any of his friends came close to that, it was Benny. Even now, there was something good, steady, and solid about Benny. He was that friend that came to the bar when you needed someone to get you home after your life fell apart.

“Benny seemed like a good guy.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed at his brother. How did Sam always manage to know what was going through his mind.

“It was three years ago, Sam, and anyway, his parents…”

“Oh for God’s sake, Dean! You broke up because of his parents?”

“You had to be there,” Dean muttered.

-----------

Mr and Mrs Lafitte smiled twin smiles at him. Tersely, Dean returned the look, desperately hoping it wasn’t a grimace. Shooting a look at Benny, he hoped his friend would rescue him. Instead, he shuffled back, crossed his arms over his chest, and grinned. He… he was enjoying this!

“How long have you and Benny been dating, Dean?”

What?

“Uh… I don’t… We… Benny?”

“Yeah, cher? How long have we been dating?”

The bastard gave him no help at all. So twitched and Dean was forced to sit through an interrogation.

“You’re a bit flighty, aren’t you?” Benny’s mother peered at him.

“Uh, no, I-“

“I don’t think that’s good enough for Benny.” Benny’s father nodded his head agreeably.

“Have you had sex yet?”

Dean choked on his soda.

Benny’s father answered this time. “Choked at the mere thought of it. Don’t make ‘em like they used to.”

Mrs Lafitte wrapped her arm around her husband. “It can take some getting used to, ma amour. You know that.”

The couple gave one of those intensely personal laughs, and Dean had never wished harder he was somewhere else.

“My first time wasn’t so easy.”

Ok, so that was something Dean never wanted hear from someone's mother.

Two sets of eyes turned on him.

“Benny does take after you, doesn’t he?”

“No doubting, that’s my boy!”

“And you don’t look very experienced, Dean. Could you even handle Benny?”

Could this get any worse?

“He’s very long. If he hurt you, he’d be so upset. I guess you could practise…” Benny’s mother looked like she couldn’t imagine anything more unlikely.

Holy fuck! It did get worse. Dean swallowed his drink and made a hasty retreat. The words, “I knew he was flighty. You need someone more solid, Benny. Someone who’s not going to run from your magnificent penis.”

Benny had turned up at the bar the next day, apologetic, but with a smug smile on his face.

“My folks don’t think you’re right for me.”

Dean slammed two shot glasses on the bar, filled them both before knocking one back.

“I don’t think your folks are right for me.”

Dean scowled at the bar, before almost managing to look Benny in the eye.

“I can’t even begin to imagine the number of drinks you are going to buy me to make up for this.”

Benny laughed his gorgeous deep belly laugh, before downing his own shot.

----------

“You never met them,” Dean repeated darkly.

“Well, Amara seemed nice-“

Without meaning to, Dean glowered. That had been five years ago, and he still felt annoyed when he remembered. She had been the dark and mysterious type. You always have to watch out for those.

-----------

Dean couldn’t stop his jaw dropping as Amara ordered her younger brother, Chuck, out of the room.

“I want to watch a movie.”

Chuck’s mouth opened to argue – the kid had obviously been ready to watch something pretty special. The snacks were laid out with precision, a warm comforter was placed just so, ready for a teenage kid to jump into and cocoon them from the outside world.

Glancing at the TV, Dean saw it was the start of the Harry Potter marathon. It wouldn’t be right for him to miss that!

“It’s sweet, Amara. I don’t mind watching Harry Pott-“

“Are you still here, Chuck?”

Amara had an icily dismissive tone, and Dean could see the kid crumble. Fighting down a wave of anger (that is not how you treat your kid brother!), Dean found his feet.

“Actually, I have to pick Sam up. He’s got some nerd group tonight, and I promised I’d give him a lift home.”

Amara crossed her arms and pouted at him, before letting her arms fall, as she stretched across the lounge,knocking Chuck’s snacks off as she went.

“Say, Chuck? I know Sammy’s gonna watch the Harry Potter marathon when he gets home. And let’s face it, it isn’t a party until you have three people. You wanna come too?”

The indecision on the kids face would have been funny if his sister hadn’t looked like she would lose the plot. One look at Amara, and Chuck was ready to hide. Dean, being a responsible and good big brother, knew what was best for everyone.

“Ok, to my place for a Harry Potter marathon. You wanna grab your snack-“

Dean stared at the mess of crockery and foodstuffs on the floor. Eyes traveling higher, they found Amara, hands clenched and face flushed with rage.

She’d just fucked up the last chance Dean hadn’t realised he was giving her.

Chuck, the poor kid, was obviously used to it. Shoulders slumped as he headed back towards the kitchen ready to, what? Clean up and deal with verbal abuse from his older sister? Dean’s mouth tightened. Not on his watch.

“That’s ok. Sam likes healthy shit anyway. We’ll stop at a shop on the way home.”

And wow – the shining incredulity in Chuck’s eyes was almost too much to bear. But bear it Dean did. Wrapping an arm around Chuck’s shoulders, he herded him out the door.

“See you later, Amara. Don’t worry, I’ll let your folks know where Chuck is.

------------

At least Sam had gotten a friend out of it all.

“Chuck’s so nice! I don’t understand why you broke up with Amara.”

“Family reasons,” he muttered, not quite quietly enough.

“Family reasons?” One day Dean would tease his brother. That screech was more fitting for a soprano. “Oh my god, Dean! What are you saying? That she got pregnant and you-“

“What the fuck? No, Sam! Fuck, no!” Dean didn’t even have words. “I can’t believe you even though that!”

Dean had had enough. He was in a bad mood which was just going to get worse: he had to work tonight. To return to the scene of his most recent abject humiliation. Dean stood, brushing off Sam’s stuttered apologies.

“Much as I’m enjoying this brotherly chat, I have to get to work.”

Without looking at him, Dean knew there were a pair of puppy dog eyes plastered to his back.

“But we’re still on for that movie marathon, right? What is it this week? Lord of the Rings?”

Sam’s smile was worth the little hurt that was still lodged in his chest. It wasn’t like Dean shared anything emotional with Sam. What was he supposed to say? I’m not good enough for anyone? Their family hates me? They don’t treat their brother right?

Yeah, right. That would just lead to a bigger argument about how Dean didn’t… he didn’t even know anymore. But it was definitely something he was or wasn’t doing.

Sighing, Dean grabbed the keys, calling his last farewells. He was just feeling low. And he had to go to work. It wasn’t a good combination. Hopefully tonight wouldn’t suck.

~o~

Of course the night sucked.

Not that there were bad customers or anything like that. No, it was worse. It was the way the other bar staff pussy footed around him, not daring to bring up the incident. Ok, so it had been uncomfortable for everyone, but surely it was the worst for Dean? If anything, they should be thanking him, as he’d been upfront and scrupulous and put the rest of that hundred in the tips cup. The fact that it had been witnessed by pretty much everyone at the bar had nothing to do with it, nothing at all.

Even Jo – Jo who gave him nonstop shit over every little thing – did nothing more than send him pitying little glances. Still, he soldiered on, ignoring it, until things got so busy that no one had time to pay extra special attention to him. For the first time in his life he was glad for a bucks party.

~o~

At least he thought it was a bucks night.

That was until the groom-to-be hit on everything that walked past. With intent. Now, Dean didn’t like to judge, but it did make him a little uncomfortable. After the third (admittedly hilarious) attempt to get into Dean’s pants, he just had to respond.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t kiss married, or soon-to-married, men.”

Golden eyes blinked at him.

“What?”

Dean blinked back.

“What?”

One of the buck’s friends wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulder. He would have shaken it off except his arms were full of empties.

“This is not a buck’s night,” the friend intoned seriously. “This is a “thank fuck it’s not a bucks night” night. Gabriel here had a very lucky miss. Not that it’s ever nice to walk in on your partner in the middle of an orgy-“

“She could have invited me!” The not-buck was pouting.

“But better to find out before, rather than after.”

Dean kept on eye on the group after that. But they did little more than sing terrible karaoke and drink increasingly terrifying cocktails. He couldn’t even hazard a guess what was in the vaguely smoking fluoro pink concoction.

“Just don’t ask,” Jo told him, still looking somewhat shaken.

Dean took the advice.

Around closing time, the party finally petered out. They left in a fluff of loud laughter and plans to find the next party. Snorting, Dean turned his attention to the tables. Like anyone would be stupid enough to let that group in.

The final glass was in the washer when there came a squawk of static. Dean jumped, head smashing against the overhanging bar, and cursing he came to his feet, only to the short not-about-to-be-married customer back on the karaoke stage.

“Where the fuck did he come from?” Dean jumped again, as Jo’s voice came from nowhere. Why were people creeping up on him tonight? At least he hadn’t hit himself on anything this time. Jo smirked at him – of course she’d know what she was doing – but the question still stood.

The two observed him a moment. They’d turned the music machine off, but the customer still managed to get his song playing. And he sang along to the words.

“She was fast and clean and only seventeen, with the biggest moustache that I’d ever seen”

“Oh, for God’s sake!”

Dean threw his tea towel down, ready to go stop this travesty, but Jo put a hand on his arm.

“C’mon, Dean. Don’t you want to see where this is going?”

“Don't stop believing. Hold on to that sweet derriere.”

“Jo! It’s late.”

“We didn’t start the fire, it was always burning said the worst attorney.”

“He can’t sing- ah!“

“-always love yoooooooooooooou.”

Dean and Jo threw their hands over their ears as the microphone shrieked its feedback. It squawked again, and when the customer made no effort to turn it off – he even readied himself to sing again! – Dean strode over and turned it all off at the wall.

Not that it stopped anything: the man kept singing into the microphone again. Even without the amplification it was terrible.

Jo started laughing. “Fuck! Was he this bad all night?”

“Probably why his friends left him here.” Dean muttered sotto voce, although there was no need, the customer – Gabriel? Didn’t the friend say Gabriel earlier? - caught up in his latest lament.

Putting on his best customer smile, Dean turned to face the man. “Excuse me sir, we’ve closed for the night.”

Stopping mid note, Gabriel turned to him. Dean just kept smiling.

“You can’t be shut.” Chewing on his lip, he looks around, before glazed eyes focused once more on Dean. “Where’s everyone else?”

Shrugging slightly, Dean made to usher him to the door, when the customer fell dramatically to the floor. “I’m all alone… there’s no one here besiiiiiiides meeeeeeeeeeee.”

Wincing and absurdly grateful that there was no amplification, Dean went into automatic. Talking the whole time, he gently patted down the man – luckily his phone was in his pocket. And even more luckily, there was no passcode (and what kind of idiot doesn’t have a passcode on their phone?), so he just called the last dialled number.

Tapping his toe impatiently, he waited for Bro 8 to answer the phone.

“This better be important, Gabriel.”

Excellent. So it was Gabriel. Moment of self-congratulations over, Dean had a moment to appreciate that Bro 8 was cranky. With one sexy voice.

“Ah, good morning-“

“Who are you? You’re not Gabriel? Oh god, is this payback? Why do I have to suffer because Gabriel is a self-absorbed ass-“

“Uh, I’m sorry for whatever you’ve suffered at Gabriel’s hands. However, uh… Straw and Swizzlehas shut, and Gabriel’s friends all left him. Are you… are you able to come and get him?”

There was a pause.

“Do you think this counts as a ‘familial obligation?’”

Dean held back a smile. He could hear the finger quotes!

“’Fraid so. Uh, have you ever been to the Straw and Swizzle? We’re a-“

“Yes I know where it is.” Bro 8 heaves a heavy sigh. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Ok, great, I’ll-“

Dean shook his head, listening to the dial tone. It’d been a while since he’d been hung up on. Oh well. The bar was clean, there was one mostly harmless patron left, and the brother claimed he’d be here soon.

“You head home, Jo. His lift will be here-“

“Thanks, Dean! See you tomorrow!”

He only had a moment to ponder Jo’s rapid departure before the words to Hey Big Spender were being crooned into his ear and it felt like a giant spider was working its way up his body.

“What the actual fuck!”

Only the human spider was there to witness his shriek. And he was so busy falling on his ass - buck naked - he probably didn’t notice.

“When the fuck did you lose your clothes? I swear I was only talking to your brother for five seconds!”

Dean didn’t even have time to realise he was swearing at a client when the front door was flung open. Dean blinked at the silhouette, even as Gabriel managed to arise, throwing himself onto Dean’s back.

“What the fuck, man?” Dean staggered as the weight hit his back.

“Save me! I’m too young to die!” Gabriel’s had clambered up Dean, legs now wrapped around his waist, mouth way too close to Dean’s ear.



“I sometimes think your death won’t come a moment too soon!” And woah! Bro 8 not only had a sexy voice, but sexy hair and a sexy bod to match. Dean liked!

“That’s harsh! Remember when I picked you up after a big night out?” Why was Gabriel licking his ear?

The question was never asked as Bro 8 turned blue eyes, amazingly, beautiful blue eyes towards Dean. No. Not Dean. Gabriel. Who was-

“Have you seriously mounted a staff member whilst being naked?”

What? Awwww fuck! Dean closed his eyes momentarily – was this really his life?

“Gabriel. It’s four in the morning and I am entering a bar. Sober.”

The weight on Dean’s back shifted as Gabriel slid to the floor. Muttered complaints of “not fair”, and “you’re no fun” filtered back.

Dean’s hero just stood there, arms crossed as he stared at De- no, not at Dean. At the man behind him. Somehow, it still felt like he was staring straight at Dean.

“You happy now?” Gabriel, who at least had pants on now, stomped to his brother.

“Not even slightly.” Now the man did look at Dean. “I am sorry for the inconvenience my brother caused. Unfortunately, I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

Dean stammered out some sort of response, and couldn’t help hoping that maybe it would happen again.

Maybe.

~o~

“Alright, Winchester. What gives?”

Back stiffening, Dean attempted to ignore Jo’s question. A well placed elbow to the ribs had him rethinking his life choices. Sighing, he turned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jo. And weren’t you leaving early tonight?”

Pinning him with a stare, Jo slowly say down on a bar stool. “Finishing early. Not leaving early. Now pour me a drink, and spill, barkeep.”

“Wouldn’t keep my job long if I spilled things, Jo. And don’t we have a minimum manners requirement here?”

Jo laughed and grabbed her beer. “C’mon, Dean! You’ve been smiling goofily for a week! And it generally takes you weeks to get over a breakup-“

“Hey!”

“So something happened and I want to know what it is.”

Firming his lips, Dean turned to serve another customer. Any customer? Desperately he looked around, there was no way he wouldn’t crumble under Jo’s interrogation. And what was he supposed to say? ‘Remember the short karaoke guy who couldn’t sing? His brother is a sex god who spoke four words to me and I dream of him every night and now I want more?’

Yeesh. Like that wasn’t sick or sad. Its only redeeming feature was that it was true.

“Jo-“ Before he got any further the front door jangled, and Dean spun, relieved. Only to come face to face with Bro 8 himself.

And fuck, if he wasn’t just as gorgeous the second time round.

Dean opened his mouth a few times. But where were the words? Where were his fucking words? Before he could humiliate himself any further (because knowing his luck, the next words out of his mouth would be “please suck my cock”), Bro 8 held out a microphone.

“Uh… thanks?”

Bro 8 ran his hand through his sex hair, somehow making it sexier sex hair. How was that even possible?

“I must apologise. My brother appears to have… borrowed this and I am just now returning it.”

Staring at the proffered microphone, Dean idly wondered what he would have thought next karaoke night. Raising his eyes to offer thanks, Dean’s words got caught those eyes. Those amazing eyes. Those amazingly blue-

“Thanks! Karaoke night isn’t until Sunday, so there’s no problem.”

God he had gorgeous eyes. Much better than Jo’s hand waving in front of his face.

“What?” he snapped, then looked around appalled. He didn’t want to be unprofessional again, in front of Bro 8.

“Uh…” Whereas before there had quite definitely been a man - a very attractive man - in front of Dean, now there was no one. “where’s Bro 8?”

Jo stared at him, before a slow smirk tugged at her lips. “So. The mystery is solved.”

Dean attempted to rally. But it was too little, too late.

“I don’t know what-“

“This is why you haven’t missed Cassie…”

Hurrying back to the bar, Dean knew there was no way to outmanoeuvre Jo.

“The thing I don’t understand, Winchester, is, where was the charm? Where was that devilish smile? The flirting. The smooth request for a phone number.”

It was a pitiful list. Dean couldn’t even say what happened, it was just every time he looked at the man, he got captivated.

“You saw his hair,” Dean offered up weakly, before rallying more strongly. “Anyway, he’s a customer, Jo, and I don’t date those. Not anymore,” he added darkly.

It was easy to ignore Jo’s laugh, but harder to ignore the pain in his heart

~o~

A pain which did not go away.

Even Sam, who was particularly self-absorbed at exam time, noticed. It seemed like the universe was out to get him, because if Sam had his usual timetable, complete with socialising and dates and other college student things, he wouldn’t have noticed the way Dean did nothing but mope at home.

But he did notice.

And he was a stubborn, annoying, bossy little brother, who always got his own way. Which is why they were now lined up Frothy Milk, Sam’s latest favourite coffee shop.

God, why was he such a pushover when it came to puppy dog eyes, Dean wondered morosely. What was it about eyes, anyway? They were just two globes of flesh. Kinda soft and gross, and easy to injure.

Why was he so fucking weak?

Sam shoulder bumped him. “Dean, order! It’s not that hard.”

The exasperation told him it wasn’t the first time he’d been called. Pulling a smile from somewhere, he looked up to order his coffee, and was caught in the most perfect amazing eyes he’d ever seen.

Goddamn it – he was so fickle! Give him a pair of sparkling eyes, and-

“Can I help you?”

“You!”

“Dean!” Sam’s hissed, cheeks flushed an unhappy shade of red. He waited a moment before deciding that Dean was incapable. “Sorry, my brother will have a rasp-

Dean must have zoned out, because suddenly Sam was dragging him across to a table, forcibly pushing him down. Face scrunched in bitch face 8 (you have some explaining to do), he stared at Dean, before something uncomfortably like recognition crossed his face.

“This is the guy you’ve been mooning over.”

Offended, the lie was out of his mouth before he had time to think. “I am not mooning over anyone, Samantha!”

Leaning back, Sam crossed his eyes, and smirked. Smirked.

Jo. He didn’t need to say it. Sam knew.

“She may have mentioned your cute puppy love, and now I have seen it for myself.” Sam emanated satisfaction. The Great Dean Winchester, brought down by a pair of blue eyes.”

“You were looking at his eyes? Sam! You have a girlfriend!”

Sam rolled his eyes, before leaning forward. “You obviously like him, Dean. I’ve never seen you like this,” Sam paused, and just waved his hand vaguely in the air, “over anyone, I think. You vagued out ordered a damn coffee! Something about this guy must be special so why don’t you ask him out.”

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their drinks. Thank God!, Dean prayed too early, as Bro 8 set them down.

“Double shot latte, and a half-strength raspberry mochachino, dash of vanilla with extra whipped cream.”

Sam quickly grabbed the latte. And Dean stared at the drink. “A what?”

“A half-strength raspberry mochachino, dash of vanilla with extra whipped cream.”

Staring at the monstrosity for a moment, Dean looked up at Bro 8, so affronted he forget to get caught up the amazing eyes.

“Do I look like the sort of person who would order a frappamappay?”

Blue eyes sized him up, before Bro 8 shrugged. “It is not my place to judge.”

Sam choked on his coffee and Dean choked on nothing. Bro 8, just raised an eyebrow and walked away. God, sexy and sassy?

Gaining his breath, Sam turned on Dean, hissing, “For fuck’s sake, Dean. Ask him out! You obviously like him!”

Dean hissed right back, “He’s my customer, Sam. And I have a rule of not asking out customers!”

“Since when?”

“Since last week?”

“And how’s that-“

“Technically, I wasn’t your customer. I’ve never bought a drink from your establishment.”

Great. Just great. Dean covered his eyes, wishing the floor would open up and he could just disappear.

“And if we are discussing technicalities, you are my customer.”

Dean peeped through his fingers.

“And I don’t have any such rule.”

Sam choked on his drink. Again. Served him right, Dean thought piously, all the while trying to stop the huge smile that threatened to break through.

He failed though.

“Yeah?”

Serious blue eyes studied Dean, before the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Yeah.”

Caught in those eyes, Dean had no idea how much time passed. Enough for Sam to clear his throat uncomfortably and mutter something about needing to get back to study. It was a blatant lie, Sam had put the whole afternoon aside for brotherly activities. At any other time Dean would have called him on it. Because he was a good brother. A kind brother. And it was an older brother’s duty to keep the younger on the straight and narrow. But he let it go. He was busy staring at his date. Would be date.

Speaking of which, he didn’t actually recall his name. Before he could ask, an annoyed voice cut across.

“Cassie! What the hell are you up to? I’ve got a line out the door and-“

“Your name’s Cassie?” Dean blanched. He didn’t know if he could deal with that. Could this be doomed before it started?

“No, Castiel.”

“Sweet as this is, oh hey beautiful! Fancy seeing you here!”

It was the terrible karaoke singer. Who even sober had the attention span of a gnat.

“Cassie! No flirting on the clock!”

“I am not flirting, Gabriel.” The words were gritted out. “I am attempting to procure a date with the object of my desire.”

Gabriel blinked, before a huge grin spread over his face. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Far be it for me to cockblock you.”

“Gabriel.”

“Or stand in the way of twuu luuuuuv.”

Palms clasped before his chest, eyelashes flickering the man was a sight. Even Dean snorted. But Gabriel was the mercurial sort.

“Now get your ass back behind the counter, Cassie. There are customers to serve.”

“But, Gabriel-“

“You can come and see loverboy when there is no one in line. But only then. You capiche?”

Muttering under his breath, Castiel turned away. But he was going to come back. To say Dean was thrilled was understatement. He almost couldn’t believe his luck…

“Soooooooooooooo.” And there was Gabriel. All wiggling eyebrows and sass.

“Holy fu- when did you get there?”

“Just wondering what your intentions are, concerning my little brother.”

Dean snorted as Gabriel made himself comfortable in Sam’s recently vacated seat. “What? You’re giving me the third degree? You?”

The guy didn’t even look embarrassed. Dean wanted that superpower.

“It’s what big brothers do.”

And it’s not like Dean could disagree.

~o~

“Gabriel, we close in ten, there are no more customers, then I am going to invite… that customer… on a date, and then we are leaving.”

Dean’s ears coloured. God, he was so straightforward!

Cas was already at Dean’s table, intently eyeing Dean when his brother interrupted. For someone who claimed they weren’t a cock block, they sure did enough of it.

“Whaaaat? This has totally been a date! Two guys making means eyes at each other in a coffee shop? Perfect first date material!”

“I may be crass enough to ask Dean out at my place of employment, but even I know not to take my… my date to where I work!” Castiel looked flustered for a moment, then settled. “I apologise on behalf of my brother-“

“Nah, I get it, Cas. It’s an older brother thing. Gotta make sure you’re gonna be treated right.”

Gabriel looked at him for a long moment, before announcing to the empty room, “I like you. I think you’ll be good for Cassie. Just as long as you don’t lead him astray.”

To say Dean was nonplussed was an understatement. “And what exactly would you – the guy stripped and jumped me – consider to be leading astray.”

Gabriel didn’t even attempt to keep a straight face, bursting into laughter as he clapped Dean on the back.

“I like this one, Cassie. I like him a lot. I think this one’s a keeper.”

And not that Dean needed Gabriel’s approval, but damn it felt good!

Cas pulled him to his feet, and they strolled out of the coffee shop, to Gabriel’s whistles and obscene commentary. Cas dropped his hand as soon as they were out, and Dean wished he was brave enough to grab it, to make the first move.

He just wasn’t. Not yet. Instead of dwelling on it, his mind drifted back to Gabriel, and he couldn’t help laughing. Cas turned quizzical eyes on him, and Dean grinned widely.

“I can’t believe your brother likes me! That’s awesome!”

It was a few moments before he realised that Cas had stopped. Turning, he raised a brow.

“Cas?”

“I would have thought the fact that I liked you was more important.”

“Yes!” Dean’s response was so fast and full on, that Castiel took a step back. And that wasn’t what Dean wanted!

“It is! In fact, It’s more than important Cas – it’s fucking important.”

Cas’s lips quirked, and it was just the nudge Dean needed. Walking back, Dean grabbed

Cas’s hand and squeezed, before pulling him gently to start him walking.

They chatted for a little. Once Dean could look at his eyes and form a sentence, the conversation flowed. Not only was he amazingly sexy, Cas was funny and smart too. Not that Dean was rushing into this, oh no. Not anymore.

“My brother says my social skills are rusty, and even I am aware that there is not a good time to ask, but…” Castiel trailed off, before squaring his shoulders and looking straight at Dean. “I never did get your name.”

Staring, Dean blinked. Castiel waited, before prodding him,

“My name is Castiel.”

“Uh, hi Castiel… I’m Dean?”

Oh God! Was that a fucking question? What the hell was that?

Instead of laughing at him, Castiel smiled.

“Hello, Dean.”

~o~

a/n I know Gabe could have got a taxi. Let it go.