Summary: AU. Cas is the lively introvert with a crush on his brother's co-worker. Dean is a radio personality who, frankly, looks better than he sounds. Gabriel his brother a job as the new voice on the show, and Castiel might finally break out of his shell. Destiel, later Sabriel, Rated M for later smut. Fun, fluffy, a little angsty, something that just popped in my head.

On the way home, Dean, Charlie, and Gabe were doing their afternoon show as usual. Banter flew across radio waves, making people all over town smile and giggle as the three all made good fun of eachother.

"Oh, but you should see the guy when he cooks... it's crazy." Dean suggested playfully into his microphone. "Gabe is the weirdest guy! Don't- Do not ever use the ranch at this guy's house, just saying." He said, laughter in his voice.

"Really?" Charlie squeaked with laughter.

"Oh, yeah." Gabriel broke in. "You should never touch the ranch. For parties, I have to go out and buy separate ranch dressing and let Dean open it himself before he'll use it."

Dean's warm laughter resounded in Castiel's car, pulling a small smile out of him. He knew it was true. His brother was guilty of practically drinking from the ranch bottle while he cooked. It was truly disgusting, but Gabe never was one to take offense. He often told Cas that's what kept him on the show, practically. His sense of humor.

"Gabriel, he's at my house the other night, and while we're in my kitchen he just, swear to God, opens the fridge, takes out my ranch, and swigs it like a beer. This guy is nuts!" Dean guffawed, and Castiel reached forward and turned up the volume with a smile.

Cas unloaded the groceries from his trunk in a bit of a hurry. He cursed softly as he fumbled with the key in the lock, his vision blocked by the brown bags. When he finally got the door unlocked, he pushed it open and stalked toward the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind him. He dropped the bags on the bar and flicked his radio on. The 111.3 afternoon show ended half an hour ago, but he knew Gabriel would probably go out for drinks with the others. That left Castiel all alone on a Thursday night, but he didn't mind. A Coldplay song ended with Dean's voice, saying, "Alright, that's it for today. Thanks for listening, be sure to tune in tomorrow. This is Dean-o, signin' off." The song Dancing With Myself starts, and Cas cracks another one of those little smiles. 'Dean-o' is a nickname Gabriel gave him when he started on the show. It was something Cas was quite fond of hearing, Dean signing off each day with his nickname and an oldie. Usually it was classic rock, but Cas didn't mind this song. In fact, he kind of enjoyed Dean's picks. They were quirky and upbeat and, well, fun. Cas imagines that's what Dean would be like.

He cranks the radio up loud enough to echo through his and Gabe's large home, sprints down the hall and up the front stairs to his room. He catches himself mumbling the words to the song as he rids himself of his converse and jeans, leaving him in only his white button-up, light blue boxers, and grey-toed socks. He finds himself singing now as he pads back down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Dancin' with myself, whoa-oh, dancin' with myse-elf, whoa-oh-oh," He sings, moving his feet with the music.

He danced through a handful of songs while he made dinner, which was spaghetti for one. He'd gotten considerably good at meals for one, ever since he spent most nights alone in the house. And he kind of liked it that way. He did kind of what he wanted, whatever made him happy. He was in between jobs after quitting his job of editor at the local news, and he'd been juggling college classes and a job hunt. But now that he was off school, he'd decided to take some personal time. Not that he needed to work. He had an almost full scholarship, and after his father died, him and Gabe had been left a paid-for house, and they need only to maintain it. They still weren't sure how much money had been left them, not after their mother snatched it up from three states away. She sends them each a fraction of it each year, still keen on controlling the two boys. Cas has done his best to stay on good terms with his mother, but Gabriel only saw her as an 'evil, controlling bitch who doesn't give a rat's ass about anything but having control.' He might've been right, but Cas had a strange soft spot for his mother. He often had a theory that Gabe disliked her so much because she was nothing but a stepmother to him, but Gabe always said Castiel was the best thing that ever came out of that woman. If it weren't for that bitch, I wouldn't have you around to pick on, now would I? That was basically him saying, 'I love you, man.' in his own words.

Cas ate in the living room in front of an episode of House Hunters International, cereal bowl of spaghetti held up to his chest, legs curled to the side. The radio was off now, and he was expecting Gabriel home any minute. Well, that is, if he hadn't gone off with some other girl. He almost never brought one home, and Castiel knew he had a thing for the sound guy, Sam, anyway. Or at least that's what he told him when he came home shitfaced two weeks ago. Drunk words are sober thoughts, Cas mused.

One over do hot shower and a quarter box of chewy Chips Ahoy cookies later, Cas had given up on Gabriel and was almost asleep when his phone rang. Loudly. "Fuck." he muttered, reaching over and turning his lamp on. He flipped his phone open and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?" he answered, sleep clouding his voice.

"Yeah, hey, buddy. Sorry for the delay, but I'm on my way home." Gabriel's voice was muffled through the phone, but it was definitely Gabriel. Sober, too, shockingly.

"Yeah? Drive careful, okay?" Cas murmured into the phone, elbow propped on the nightstand. Gabe chuckled.

"You betcha. Sorry for wakin' you up, there, sport. I've gotcha some good news, though."

"What?"

"I got you a job at the station."

Castiel was too tired to be shocked at his brother's words, too dumb with sleep to realize what he would in the morning; he's going to be working with none other than Dean Winchester, radio personality. The same Dean that pulled smiles out of him with his cheesy oldies picks, that gave Cas butterflies whenever he laughed. Well, fuck.

A/N: Hey, you guys! Hoped you enjoyed the first chapter, sorry for it being kind of short! Be sure to review and tell me what you think, good or bad. I sincerely apologize for the lack of up-front Destiel, but we'll get there, eh? Thanks for reading. -N