So I randomly started writing Destiel AU. I'm not exactly sure where this is going, but I'm thinking it's leading to various antics. We'll see!
Dean looked around and sighed as he walked into his new office. He was greeted by a small, bare desk with worn spots evident on the surface, presumably from the gym teacher before him. At least the chair looked new. Perks of the job.
He set his bag down on the desk and sat down. The office was reasonably sized, but he shared it. There were two desks pushed together, with what looked like a bulletin board placed between them to give each member a sense of their own space, though it only came about six inches above the worktop. On the opposite side was the school's other gym teacher, which a plastic nameplate proclaimed to be Gabriel Milton. He'd yet to meet the guy, but judging from the guy's desk, he was probably twice Dean's weight. The wastebasket was full of candy wrappers and Dean could see a couple more stores in the corner between the desk, the partition board, and the wall. Candyholic for a gym teacher, what a career choice.
Dean sat at the desk for a couple minutes, taking in the sight of the office and hearing nothing but the air in the vents. The students were all in their homerooms, and the building was filled with a deceptive silence, the calm before the gale of students flooded the hallways on the way to class.
As students began to stream past, some glancing in through the window in curiosity, Dean heard the door slam. He looked over to see a short blond-haired man enter the room. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Dean, eyes wide.
"Oh, um, hi," Dean sputtered. "I'm the new guy. I'm Dean."
"Winchester, right?" the guy asked, regaining his composure and striding over to the desks. "They said you started sometime this week. I dunno, I skimmed the email." He smirked and held out his hand. "Well, new guy, I'm the other guy, Gabriel Milton."
Dean couldn't completely mask his surprise. "Oh! So, that's your desk?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Dean let out a laugh. "Oh, nothing. Judging by the candy, I was just expecting someone, well, larger."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Gabriel said as he pulled the chair over to the end of the desk and propped his feet up, leaning back and snacking on a Twix bar. Dean only had to lean over a couple feet and nudge Gabriel's feet, and the man was flailing, letting out a shrill cry as he struggled to keep himself from falling to his painful and infinitely amusing demise.
"Oops," Dean said with a snigger.
"Isn't there someplace you should be?" Gabriel inquired, shooting Dean a glare. "Some class to teach?"
"No, I'm free until ten," he answered, casting another look to the schedule he'd been given. He was still trying to familiarize himself with it, which meant that he would be constantly looking over to it until he had it committed to memory. "Unless you know where I can find Mr. Singer? He said he wanted to meet with me, but he wasn't in his office when I went up there."
"He's always in his office by first period," Gabriel said, trying his best to look indifferent as he slid back to the center of his desk.
"Thanks," Dean said with an eye roll and a shake of the head before exiting the office. He quickly made his way to the main office. The school wasn't very large, so there weren't many places to get lost, and most teacher desks were located in the classrooms. The need for various sports equipment and the fact that the classes usually took place in the gymnasium, was the only reason that the gym teachers got their own office. Otherwise, all of the other teachers had their desks in their classrooms, aside from the principal and the three guidance counselors, who all had their desks in the main office.
The main office wasn't very big, and nothing about it really screamed "MAIN." There was a vinyl counter with a red-haired woman sitting behind it, reading a book for lack of anything better to do. There were some chairs lining the opposite wall, and four doors, each with a name and position listed. Three guidance counselors and the principal.
The woman looked up as Dean entered, looking at him with confusion. She hadn't been there when he'd stopped by to talk to Mr. Singer earlier that morning.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah, I'm the new gym teacher?" Dean couldn't keep the uncertainty from creeping into his voice.
"Oh, you're Mr. Winchester!" she nodded. She rustled around on the desk, digging through paper until she came up with a dark red folder, holding it out to him. "This is the student roster and attendance sheet, along with the curriculum. I'm Anna, if you need anything, and I'm pretty sure Mr. Singer is expecting you already, so just knock on his door."
Dean thanked her and strode to the door, getting two knocks in before the door was pulled open. He'd met Mr. Singer before, at his interview, and they'd spoken on the phone, but it still caught him off guard. The man was burly with a greying beard. In all honesty, Dean would have pegged him for a trucker before he'd have even considered that the man could be a high school principal. Not that he'd ever tell him that. He was just glad to have a job!
"Winchester!" Mr. Singer greeted him with an approximation of a smile. "Come on in, kid! I just want to talk to you real quick before you have any classes.