This fanfiction is dedicated to Carolin. May you rest in peace.

She was the first one to help edit, and this story would never be published without her.

I love you.

~Tori

Dean walked in to the small coffee shop and glanced around. The tiny space had room for a booth and three tables that each seated four. Everything was a rustic color, dark army greens, browns, and tan colored leather. The old wood paneling squeaked as he walked forward to the counter.

"I'll be there soon," a deep voice grumbled from the back, followed by a crash. Dean couldn't help but worry. The deep voice grunted and then sighed.

"You alright?" Dean shouted at the voice.

"Yes," the voice said grumpily. The door to the back was suddenly filled with a man; he walked up to the counter and frowned. "Hi, I'm Castiel, what can I help you with?"

"Sounds like I should be helping you," Dean quipped. He wasn't sure how his brain was functioning. The man wasn't ripped, but Dean could tell that there was strength underneath that appearance. He was slightly shorter than Dean, with bright, pink lips and piercing blue eyes that looked up from dark lashes. Dean had to consciously make sure that his mouth was not in fact hanging open. The man attracted him, there wasn't any other way to put it. His face, his manner, and his body all screamed at Dean. He couldn't stop thinking about those lips. A look of confusion passed over the café owner's face.

"I don't understand, you are the customer, why would you help me?" Castiel's brows furrowed contemplating the question.

"I was making a joke…..oh.. never mind." Dean smiled, not being able to help himself. "Can I get 12 cups of black coffee for my construction crew?"

"Yes. Will that be all, or do I need to give you an application too?" A mischievous look flashed over piercing blue eyes as Dean realized that Castiel had gotten the joke the entire time. The barista's lips smirked and Dean couldn't help himself anymore.

"Well, I don't need an application, but your number would be nice."

The next millisecond seemed like an hour before Castiel curtly nodded and went to make the drinks. A nod, son of a bitch. What the hell is a nod even supposed to mean? He didn't even make eye contact! God, what if he's straight? I just got that vibe that he wasn't. Ugh, I'm overthinking it. Be cool Dean, get it together. he thought anxiously. Castiel handed him the drinks and a receipt, but Dean couldn't even remember paying.

"Have a good day," the gruff voice said from behind the counter. Shit, Dean thought, I didn't get his number and he probably thinks I'm a creep. Dean stared down at the coffee , frowning, as he walked back to the construction site. He placed the coffee down on the back of his friend, Bobby's, truck.

"I've got coffee!" he shouted, soon to be surrounded by a group of ten men and a petite blonde female.

"Thanks bro!" the blonde, Jo, smiled as she sipped her hot coffee. "Mmmm this is good! Where did you get it?" she looked at the cup for a label. "What's this?" She turned the cup around in her hand so it faced dean. Under a logo that read, "Carolin" in small black handwriting, Cast**** 967-785-3547 ;) was scribbled, but due to Jo's hands the name had been smudged.

"Oh," was all Dean could manage.

"So, who's Cast-?" she elbowed him in the ribs, winking.

"I'm assuming it's Castiel, your stupid hands smudged the rest," Dean couldn't believe his eyes as he ripped his phone from his pocket, hastily adding the new contact.

"I want details, Winchester," the woman's eyes shined with determination.

"Just one sec, aaaaannnnnd, done," Dean looked up from his phone, beaming. "He owns and works at the coffee shop down the street."

"And….?!" Jo looked at him expectantly

"I hit on him, I probably came on too strong, but damn, if you'd had seen him you would understand. Jo, his eyes are the color of an October sky." Dean looked up a little bit recalling the man's features and wishing he had a picture or something. He didn't see Jo smirking at this uncharacteristic description of someone.

"So are you going to text him?" Jo's voice was agitated, obviously wishing that Dean would just get it over with. Dean hadn't been interested in anyone in years, much less on a date. After the accident nothing had been the same. She watched him try to play it off cool, as Dean would always do, but she could see the worry in his eyes.

"Umm, well what is the normal protocol for this kinda thing. I haven't been out there for years so I

could really use your help, Jo."

Jo smirked knowing she could do something better than Dean. The two had grown up as almost siblings and competition was friendly but fierce among the pair. She was thoughtful for a moment, impatient for Dean to finally go on a date, but also worried about giving bad advice. Suddenly an idea sprang into her head as she loosened her grip on her cup. It slipped from her hand and fell onto the ground, the lid popped off and the coffee soaked into the dusty ground.

"Oh no!" she feigned. "Whatever shall I do, that coffee was wonderful but now it is all gone. I must ask you to go and get me some more."

Dean rolled his eyes, glad he had an excuse to go see the blue-eyed wonder, even if it was going to sound totally lame.

"God Jo, why do you have to be so annoying?" He chuckled to make sure she knew he was kidding.

"Because, if I wasn't, then you wouldn't get to see him again today."

"Touche. Well I'll go and get some joe for my Jo then." He winked at her and walked off, elated to go and see the coffee shop owner. Dean hadn't dated a guy since college, because after that he met her. But he remembered the easiness that came with it, the mutual understanding of just what the other needed; which happened to be just what Dean needed right now. He had friends and lots of family, whether by blood or something else, but none of them got it. Not like his last relationship was. Dean looked up realizing that he was at the shop.

The bell tinkled as the man from earlier this morning walked in. The green eyes flashed up, the color of leaves when the sun filters through the trees in the summer. Castiel hadn't even gotten his name yet. The man laughed and bit his lip nervously, he glanced around, and sighed.

"So my friend dropped her cup and said your coffee was the best. So she forced me to come back and get some more."

It was the lamest excuse Castiel had ever heard, and he loved it.

"One black cup of coffee then," he was sure he sounded grumpy, but he was always bad when it came to "people skills" and most of his friends understood that, causing him to be "rusty" in conventional meetings. "Anything else?"

Castiel tried to make his voice more welcoming, and he must have succeeded because when he looked up from grabbing the coffee cup the stranger was smiling.

"Um thats all please," the man reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling his shirt tighter to reveal a toned body underneath.

"What's your name then?" Castiel asked, the mystery of it had become too much for him.

"Dean. Dean Winchester. Sorry, I should'a said that earlier. My friend she got the cup with the number on it, and she can be really pushy so here I am."

"Oh." Castiel couldn't help but sigh with disappointment. He was a conquest. Something to brag about to some friends, and laugh when they forced him back. "Thats fine. Will that be all?"

"Well, it is 11 right now and I have a lunch break. Since no one is in here right now, do you wanna hang out for a while?"

Castiel's body relaxed with relief, it wouldn't be like last time. He could tell that Dean was nervous, but was also confident in his flirting style, little out of practice, maybe, but Dean must have been chased after in high school and college.

"Yes, that would be nice. You can sit wherever you want to." Dean chose to sit at the booth, sliding in and grabbing a menu. Castiel watched as his eyes scanned over it.

"You guys wouldn't happen to have cheeseburgers here, would you?"

"Yes. I always keep the ingredients on hand; they make me happy." Castiel walked back into the kitchen, and realizing he had left Dean all alone he called out, "You can come and watch me cook if you want!"

He heard the man's body slide out from the booth table and walk behind the counter before appearing in the door frame. Dean looked around and smiled.

"I like it better back here, less hipster, more modern," Dean commented.

"I don't really care what a space looks like, as long as i can function in it." Castiel never really had an eye for fashion or design, he much preferred to focus on a task at hand and not worry if everything looked pretty. After all, his favorite piece of clothing was a big tan trench coat. Dean smiled as he walked further into the room and leaned up against one of the counters, making sure he wasn't in Castiel's way.

"When did you learn how to cook?" Dean smile, having always loved it when people cooked for him. Castiel looked up from the fridge he was rummaging around in and looked thoughtfully at Dean.

"I don't really know. Our dad was hardly ever around when we were kids, he was constantly busy. So we all just learned how to fend for ourselves. But my sister, Anna, and I were always the best. She actually works here on Mondays and Wednesdays."

"What does she do the rest of the time?"

Castiel was surprised that Dean was so interested in his mundane life, but he decided to enjoy the attention.

"She's in college right now."

"Doing?"

"Everyone. And majoring in modern art, with a minor in english."

"Sounds like a rebel."

"The family prefers the term 'branching out on her own' but I guess rebel works just as well"

Dean leaned back in his chair, soaking in everything that the the blue eyed man would tell him.