AN: I promise that this story will have a happy ending. I have a thing for actors lately, and I just wanted to read about their lives, so this happened. I've had the greatest time writing it. I can't seem to stop writing about Dean and Castiel. They're two of my favorite fictional characters.

Full summary: Dean Winchester just landed a lead role in a romantic comedy alongside Bela Talbot. He's ready to get back to work after his last successful film, Supernaturally. There's just one problem. Dean has to work with Castiel Novak, a reclusive actor who hates fame. But first impressions aren't always right. Soon, the two of them become close friends.

In their newfound friendship, Dean has to figure out how to hunt down the ghosts from their pasts in order to move forward.

Warning: strong language, sexual content, and some script format.


Coffee Dates was a romantic comedy starring a handsome man and a beautiful woman. It involved lots of coffee. The movie practically sold itself.

During breakfast, Dean Winchester looked over the script, skimming the scenes he wasn't in. He knew the story enough without having to read every part of it. His job was to look good and act romantic. His agent, Garth, had gotten him the lead role, and that was all that mattered.

After getting out of the shower, Dean got dressed in dark jeans and a red flannel. He put a leather jacket on top and rushed out of his apartment located downtown. He got into his 1967 Chevy Impala that waited patiently for his return in the parking garage.

A smile shaped his lips when he started the engine and heard the Impala's powerful rumble.

Dean drove through L.A. traffic to the film set. Today was their first day of shooting. He would get a chance to meet the full cast and get a sense of who his sober co-stars really were. It was important to Dean that he got along with everyone on the set, cast and crew equally. Dean was aware of his talents, but he wasn't conceited. At least he didn't think so. This was only his second lead role in a movie, and he wanted it to have a domino effect. Most importantly, he wanted to earn every role he got.

Everyone on set was moving. It became contagious. Dean was here to work. He wanted to work. After his last horror film, Supernaturally, Dean had been out of work for almost a year. Now he had a great role in a promising film. His excitement was hardly containable.

Once he checked in with a PA, Dean got directed to his trailer. Dean nodded and thanked the young man and headed to his trailer to get out of everyone's way. As he treaded down the concrete, Dean checked his phone. There were three messages from Sam.

Dean had completely forgotten to call him last night. He'd passed out as soon as he got home from the bar. A few of the cast had gotten together to get to know each other a little better, but Dean had left too late and too drunk.

How did it go? I'm proud of you, Dean.

You forgot to call me, didn't you?

Jerk.

Without any warning, Dean collided against a solid body on his path. He caught a flash of blue eyes before his feet got tangled and he lost his balance, causing him to fall against the other guy. Dean gripped onto the stranger's arms for support, and he witnessed as the hot cup of coffee the guy was holding slid out of his hand onto the ground. The other man steadied Dean with his solid hands and Dean tried a coy smile. He put his phone back into his pocket and glanced up.

The man was older, and his hair was onyx black, which contrasted the marble blue in his puzzled eyes. He wore a black suit and a blue tie that was tied backwards. Dean had never seen this man on set, but he was too dressed up to be part of the crew. Actually, he was too dressed up to be part of the cast too.

"Didn't see you there," Dean said as a way of an apology. Dean extended his hand. "I'm Dean Winchester."

"Castiel Novak," he said in a deeper voice than his. They shook hands briefly.

"Okay, well, nice to meet you," Dean said, walking ahead. Before he got far, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and then he was forcefully turned back around.

Castiel stared at him expectantly. He clenched his teeth and lifted up his chin.

"What?" Dean asked, clueless of whatever had angered the stranger.

"Are you too important for apologies?" Castiel asked.

It took Dean a few awkward moments of silence to realize the man wasn't joking. "I didn't think it was a big deal. I bumped into you. It was an accident." Dean shrugged. "I'll pay you back for the spilled coffee. How much was it? Two bucks?" Dean started to pull out his wallet when he noticed Castiel was getting angrier.

Castiel shook his head. "Yes, you bumped into me, spilled my coffee, and then walked away without the briefest apology. It comes to no surprise, but I must admit I am still rather disappointed."

"I said it was an accident, man," Dean said. "What, do you want me to go crazy with apologies? I only say sorry when I mean it. Otherwise the word loses its meaning."

"You are insufferable," Castiel said.

"Me?" Dean scoffed. "Are you sure you don't have the roles reversed here? Who are you anyway?"

"I am an actor," Castiel said. "And I know who you are. I saw your cheap horror film last fall."

"Cheap?" Dean asked, taking a step closer, forcing Castiel to take a step back. Screw getting along with everyone on set. "We had Eva Longoria. Do you think a cheap film can afford Eva Longoria?"

"They could certainly afford you," Castiel said, smirking.

"I get why you weren't invited to our get-together yesterday," Dean said.

Castiel widened his eyes. For a split second, he allowed a hint of vulnerability to be seen, but then he wiped it away with a grin. "The reason I was not invited is because I flew in this morning from Kansas."

"Good for you, big guy," Dean said. Just as he was about to end this infuriating conversation with the petty man, he noticed Bela approaching them.

Bela Talbot was his very attractive, very dangerous co-star. She wore a black dress and fuzzy house slippers, and she made it look good. Her light brown hair curled perfectly below her shoulders. Dean knew not to mess with her since the first moment she caught his eye. As innocent as she appeared with her big, pretty eyes, Dean knew she was a strong woman that could crush anyone with a heel, or sometimes a fuzzy slipper.

"You must be Castiel," Bela said, smiling at the asshole.

"I am," Castiel said. "Bela, it is a pleasure meeting you." He gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I see you and Dean are getting acquainted," Bela said. She paused, glancing from Dean to Castiel. "Or do I already sense some tension?"

"Not at all," Dean said. "He's…delightful."

Castiel glared at Dean and said nothing.

Bela clapped her hands together once. "I really hope the two of you are better actors on-screen or we're fucked."

"I need to find my trailer," Castiel said. Before he left, he said goodbye to Bela, but ignored Dean.

Bela laughed as she watched Castiel disappear amongst the hardworking people. "What did you do to piss off that guy?"

"I literally just bumped into him," Dean said defensively. "I guarantee you he'd fit ten times better in a soap opera, what with his melodrama. What role does he have, anyway?"

Bela hooked an arm around Dean's and led him into his trailer. She shut the door and sat down with him, grinning widely at the chance to spill all her secrets. "I heard from a good source that Bobby had to go up to Castiel's house in Kansas and beg for him to take the role in the movie. Castiel's some kind of bizarre, reclusive actor who desperately wants to stay away from the headlines, fame, and all the good stuff that come with acting. I mean, he doesn't even live in California. He's very low-key."

"Why the hell did Bobby want him in our movie?" Dean asked, furrowing his brow.

"Apparently he's an amazing actor," Bela said. "Bobby felt he was the right man for that role. I heard Castiel might retire from acting after this film. If he hates it so much, he might as well. Coffee Dates is going to be as big as any of those Meg Ryan 80's rom-coms. He'll get a fan-base and they won't let him go."

"Oh, please," Dean said, waving away her concerns. "I doubt this asshole can act at all."

"I'm just delivering the information," Bela said, lifting up her hands and blinking innocently.

"What role did he get, though?" Dean asked, realizing Bela had never answered his question.

She smiled sympathetically at Dean. "He's playing Jimmy, your character's closest friend."

"Oh, hell." Dean ran his hand through his hair. "Jimmy's the best supporting character I've ever read about. Castiel's going to fuck it all up. How am I going to act with that guy? I can't even touch him 'cause he'll go all nuts."

"Give him some time, Dean," Bela said, tugging on Dean's earlobe before rising from her seat. "I need to go finish my transformation into the future love of your life."

"No pressure," Dean said, distracted.

Bela laughed. "Cheer up, handsome. At least you have me."

Dean looked up and smiled. "I'm glad I do."

"Don't look at my ass as I walk away," Bela warned, leaving his trailer.


A man with an old-school mullet greeted Dean as he entered the makeup room. He'd already been fitted for today's costume, but this was the dreadful part. Not that wearing makeup bothered him. If most girls did it, then he would too. His problem lied in being forced to sit still for long periods of time, in an uncomfortable chair that made his ass sore.

The mullet man grinned at Dean, holding out a fist for a bump.

"Hiya, movie star," the man said easily.

"Not quite," Dean said, sheepishly, bumping his fist against the man's.

"Name's Ash," he said. "I'm the makeup artist."

Dean nodded, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Should we get started?"

"Go ahead," Ash said, motioning to one of the empty leather chairs lined up in front of a long lit mirror. There were a variety of cosmetic products all set out on the counter. "Don't look so scared. Makeup's the greatest thing in the world. I'm gonna paint your face until you look like a Greek god."

"That might be reaching," Dean said.

"Nonsense." Ash waved a hand dismissively, lightly brushing some powder on Dean's cheeks. "You just sit tight, relax, and let me work my magic."

Dean smiled. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Almost six years," Ash said, leaning against the edge of the counter behind him, holding the brush in his hand and studying Dean's featured with an unexpected intensity. "I like to call myself an artist. I started out at a small beauty salon, but I love the film industry. There's never a lack of drama."

"I'm sure that's true," Dean said, forcing his eyes open even as the brush stroke his face again. "Ash, I know as an artist, you wish your blank canvas would not move at all, but I'm an antsy person by nature."

Ash held Dean's head with one hand while he worked with the other. "No worries. You got one thing wrong, though. You're far from a blank canvas. I'm going to do my best not to hide your amazing freckles. Congrats on those, by the way."

"Thanks, I got them myself." Dean smirked.


After his makeup, hair, and costume were done, Dean walked up to Bobby's office. Despite being the director, Bobby Singer was an easygoing man. Dean was more excited about getting to work with him than about the actual movie.

Bobby was drinking coffee when he allowed Dean inside.

"Dean, you're the man I wanted to see," Bobby said, offering Dean a cup of coffee.

"No, thank you, Bobby. I already had coffee this morning," Dean said, taking a seat across Bobby's desk. His leg started bouncing. Dean was definitely jittery enough without adding more caffeine to his system.

"You survive on one cup o' coffee?" Bobby asked, raising his eyebrows. "My God, son, you gotta tell me your secret."

Dean laughed. "Not really a secret. I just forget about the coffee with all the junk food I eat compulsively."

"Idjit," Bobby muttered, leaning forward on the desk. He folded his hands. "What can I help you with?"

"Well." Dean cleared his throat. "I had a chance to meet Castiel Novak this morning."

"He's a fine man, that one," Bobby said, grinning.

"I, uh, think we hit it off on the wrong foot," Dean confessed. "Dude seemed to be set on hating me."

Bobby sighed. "That's never good to hear. Listen, will this get in the way of the project? I can't risk my two best men arguing behind the scenes. This sorta stuff translates onto the screen, son."

"I know, Bobby," Dean said. "That's why I wanted to bring this up with you. What am I supposed to do if he won't cooperate?"

"He will," Bobby said, confidently. "Castiel is not only a fine man, he's a professional. I know he might be a bit on the strange side, but I'm a fan of his work. Have been for years. I trust him, same as I trust you."

"Thank you, Bobby. I won't let you down," Dean said, getting up. "I promise to do my part in getting along with Cas."

Dean didn't miss the confusing moment after he came up with the nickname for Castiel. Bobby simply shrugged it off.


Rehearsals were set to start in an hour. Dean decided to visit Castiel's trailer to offer to run through their lines. The first scene they were filming was with both of them. Dean was equally nervous and frustrated. He was already dreading forgetting his lines, but now he had to worry about not offending one of his co-stars.

He found Castiel's trailer and hesitated before moving closer. Before he built up the courage to knock on his door, Dean's phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Big-shot actor forgets his brother before his movie even hits theatres," Sam said. "I am so disappointed."

Dean sighed in relief, leaning against the trailer. "I am so fucking glad you called, Sammy. I was about to walk into the slaughterhouse."

"Acting sounds dangerous," Sam said.

"Tell me about it." Dean checked his wristwatch. "Shit, I don't have much time until rehearsals."

"So don't waste time with me," Sam said. "Give me a call later. I'm thinking about visiting soon. I could use a mind-clearing six-hour drive from Stanford. How would you like to put up with your obnoxious brother during spring break?"

"Spring break? Sammy, that sounds amazing!" Dean grinned into his phone. The prospect of having his baby brother for an entire week was the best news he'd gotten all day. "I'll call you when I get home to hash out the details."

"Alright, take care, Dean."

"You, too, Sammy."

Dean disconnected and stared at the door belonging to Castiel's trailer.

Here we go.

Castiel took his time to open the door after Dean knocked. "May I help you?" he said icily.

"Actually, yes," Dean said. "Can I come in?"

"Fine," Castiel said, stepping aside to make room for Dean. After shutting the door, Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean. "What do you need?"

Dean took his time to observe the change Castiel had been put through. His pressed suit was gone, and now he wore blue jeans and a black Henley. The change was kind of nice.

"I'm here to see if maybe you wanted to run through our lines together?" Dean offered, taking the first seat he could find at a table. He dug the script from his pocket. "The first scene we're shooting is between our characters. It might be good to pre-rehearse."

Castiel pursed his lips. Then he grabbed his script and sat across from Dean. "Yes, I did notice our characters have many scenes together."

"You'd think we're the couple, right?" Dean laughed, flipping the script to the first scene.

"If that were the case, not many people would watch it," Castiel said with a frown.

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"When's the last time you saw a romantic comedy following the love story between two men or two women?"

Dean stared at Castiel, partly surprised and partly impressed. In fact, Dean should be more aware of that kind of stuff. He was openly bisexual. But all his roles so far shaped him as a straight male. "You're right."

"I know I'm right," Castiel said, and he seemed to be fighting his lips from curving up. He quickly shook his head and focused his eyes on the script.

"Okay, so my character, Michael, owns this coffee house, and your character, Jimmy, is Michael's best friend."

"So far, so good," Castiel said with a nod.

"Michael meets this girl named Leslie at a poetry slam held at his coffee house. Apparently nothing says romance harder than poetry. Poetry is sex on legs. You literally want to slam that poetry."

Castiel chuckled softly, shaking his head again. His eyes never left his script.

He thinks I'm funny. Interesting.

"Then, he invites her back to his coffee house the next day," Dean continued, peering at Castiel through his lashes. "Except Leslie hits him with the fact that she hates coffee." Dean makes a dramatic sound effect. "And it is Michael's mission to court Leslie with a new blend of his delicious coffee every single day, until she accepts that coffee is, in fact, wonderful. With the help of his lifelong friend, Jimmy, he thinks up new coffee blends and romantic places where he will invite Leslie to have coffee with him."

"Jimmy sounds like a good friend," Castiel commented.

"I thought so, too," Dean said.

Castiel cleared his throat. "Michael, give it to me."

Dean smiled at Castiel, who had finally glanced at him. Dean realized it was his turn to speak his line, so he went ahead. "You want it that bad, you gotta pay the price."

"My love and gratitude are priceless, my friend," Castiel read.

"But my coffee isn't," Dean read.

"Put it on my tab."

"You mean the three-year old tab you started on opening day? At this rate, I'm not only going to own your house, but also your soul. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm all yours. Now, give it to me." Castiel hummed in amusement.

"Here's your favorite. French vanilla. Just so we're clear, this coffee costs one Jimmy-shaped soul." Dean glanced at Castiel.

"I'm sure my soul is safe in your hands, Mike. I'm not worried." Castiel returned the glance, although for just a short moment.

Dean and Castiel continued on with their scene. Dean was getting a sense of a different side of Castiel. Despite their disastrous first meeting, Castiel was proving to be a good actor. An exceptional actor, so much that Dean started to think Castiel didn't completely despise him.

If everything he'd heard from Bela was true, then Dean wanted to make the guy comfortable. As comfortable as possible. So maybe arguing with him wouldn't take them anywhere.

Dean decided to give Castiel a second chance.


"Cut!" Bobby shouted. His sharp voice vibrated through the room.

The actors shared a few sympathetic glances. They were done with their first day of shooting. Dean felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. Now that he'd gotten this first day out of the way, he felt he was on a good track.

"Great job, everyone," Bobby said. "First call tomorrow's at seven. Don't be late, idjits."

Bela stepped out of her heels and stretched out her toes. "I'm beat."

"Yeah, me too," Dean told her. The extras scattered in the set started leaving. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bela."

"Get your beauty sleep," Bela said, smiling widely at him.

"I plan on it," Dean said.

On his way back to his car, Dean caught sight of Castiel. The other man was standing alone in the middle of the set, glaring at the cell phone in his hands.

After their successful first day at work together, Dean felt confident enough approaching the guy without fear of being insulted. At least not immediately.

Dean went up to him, stopping a few feet away from him just for good measure.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said, typing something up in his cell phone. A small crease shaped on his forehead as he continued to focus.

"Everything okay?" Dean asked.

"I'm exhausted," Castiel said openly. When he finally looked at him, Dean knew he wasn't lying. Castiel looked like he was about to pass out. "I took an early flight this morning. I was unable to sleep more than two hours last night. Now I have to find the hotel with my reservations, but I don't know the number to call a cab. My mobile device is entirely too slow. These things aren't meant to be used as computers, Dean. I'm considering sleeping right on this ground if I can't get this figured out in five minutes."

"Whoa, slow down." Dean took two steps closer, placing a tentative hand on Castiel's shoulder, guiding him to the parking lot. "I have a car. I will take you to your hotel, alright? Don't collapse on me. I know we had a long day today."

"Understatement," Castiel said, pocketing his cell phone. He tilted his head, watching Dean as they walked. "You are being uncharacteristically pleasant."

"Just trying to help you out," Dean said, earnestly. Unlike their first meeting, Castiel looked so small and frail. It made Dean want to comfort him. Maybe he was tired too.

They reached the Impala, and Dean helped Castiel into the passenger seat. He waited until Castiel buckled his seatbelt to get behind the wheel. Castiel's eyelids were fluttering, but his eyes widened at the sound of the Impala's engine. Zeppelin's ballad of The Rain Song played on the stereo, and the soft guitar and soothing intro filled the car.

"Oh, nice song," Castiel mumbled, leaning his head against the window. An absent smile shaped on his lips.

"One of my favorites," Dean said, pulling out of the parking lot.

Dean drove mindlessly, sinking into the quiet melody of the music. He expected he was driving in the right direction because Castiel hadn't told him he wasn't. In fact, Castiel hadn't said a word in a long time.

Dean turned to his right to find the body a very tired man deeply asleep beside him.

"Fuck," Dean muttered. Should I wake him up?

Castiel was using his palm as a pillow against the window. His messy hair was messier now than it had been earlier. And the smile remained on his face.

If he hadn't been as tired, Castiel probably wouldn't have fallen asleep in a stranger's car. That takes a lot of trust.

Dean did the only thing he could do.

He drove them home.