The music pounded heavily against walls of the room. The ears of those listening, surprisingly enough, weren't being murdered in the least; the voices were actually quite soothing despite the deep growl of the bass.
Creamy honeyed skin, flecked with freckles, slowly moved along to the rhythm, almost idly, while a pair of startling green eyes narrowed in concentration. Blond hair stuck out in all directions, and as one leg moved out, the grey sweatpants that hung low on a well-toned torso folded and creased.
"Alright Dean, that's enough! Take five!" a gruff British voice yelled over the music, gesturing up to the random staff member sitting by the stereo to cut the music. Shrugging, the male did as he was told, and silence fell over the large space.
"You sure, Crowley? Wouldn't want Michael hearing you say that." The blond male teased lightly, immediately sitting himself down on the edge of the stage as the music paused and shaking sweat out of his eyes. Silently, he held out a hand, and his water bottle was handed to him. "Speaking of, is he coming on stage with Balthazar and I tonight or no?"
"Tomorrow, he says." The British man huffed. "He's got a last minute class he managed to forget about."
"Ah." The younger male nodded. "Sounds like Michael. And Bela's on tonight too, then."
It wasn't necessarily a question, but Crowley hummed an agreement anyway.
"Yep. The usual routine."
Dean chewed on his bottom lip as he stored the information away, but brightened as a familiar mane of chestnut popped out from behind the bar. Nothing quite like a sibling to distract the male whenever he and Crowley were having conversations.
"Sammy!" he called, leaning back onto his palms and grinning.
Sam, as per usual, ignored him. Perhaps not the easiest feat in the world if you were anyone else, but with him it was as easy as breathing. Instead, the younger Winchester continued rummaging around, making sure that there would be enough of everything and that he wouldn't have to go back to the storage room and grab anything later.
"Busy old woman." Dean muttered affectionately, taking another gulp of his water before hopping back to his feet. "Alright, enough playtime. Time to get this over with. Ellen wants some help cleaning the pub."
-:-
He was muttering to himself again. Mind, it was because he was doing math for the bills, but nonetheless, he was talking to himself. Balthazar always teased him about it, but to be honest, he could care less what Balthazar thought. He was an idiot anyway.
Leaning back, the strawberry blond male ran a hand through his hair, brown eyes half-lidded as he quickly reviewed the calculations that he'd done.
Usually it would be Bobby taking care of all of these things, but given that said male was retiring in the early spring of the coming year, he was the one he felt most confident taking over for him.
Still didn't mean that he had to like it.
Grumbling, he opened a drawer and pulled out a bag of sour keys and plucked one of the candies out of the bag, admiring the thick sugar coating only for a moment before he stuck it into his mouth. Chewing slowly, he straightened himself up, sliding the candy over to one side and waiting for the anticipated knock.
Six seconds later, the familiar two tap knock was at the door. A small smile tugged at his lips; his little brother was ever so predictable.
"Come in, Cas." He said, just loud enough to be heard through the door.
The door opened with a slight click, and the smaller male entered, dark haired head ducked down and looking like a beaten puppy. His thin form was dressed in dark jeans and a dress shirt, and a jacket was pulled on over everything.
"Please, sit." Gabriel commented, not even bothering to look at him as he shifted a pile of papers over to one side ever so slightly so that he could rest his elbows on the desk.
Castiel did so, and it was then that he lifted his head, meeting Gabriel's gaze with a steady one of his own.
"Good morning, Gabriel."
Ooh. Monotone. Such childish means of communication when all he'd done was bet he couldn't find anything to hold against him. Not that there necessarily wasn't…just not enough to make a point.
"Castiel." He inclined his head. Obviously, Cas hadn't been expecting the full name treatment, considering that he flinched slightly at hearing him say it. Then again, Gabriel mused, he'd been calling his little brother Cas for about as long as he could remember.
"Well. Better not waste any time then. Let's get down to business." The blond clapped his hands before pulling open another drawer and grabbing the papers needed, placing them on the desk so that they were facing Castiel.
"Since you're going to be here for a while, I'm outlining your basics. Right next door is the Roadhouse. It's managed by Ellen, my partner, who owns that half of the business. Though I'm sure you've guessed that by now. There's an entire wing of rooms available for free to the dancers who work here. That offer now extends to you." Gabriel started, trailing his finger along the specifics regarding that arrangement. "As well as that, you'll be given you own storage locker backstage for all of your costumes and the like, as well as a key for the back door. That's the entrance that almost everyone who works here uses."
Castiel nodded silently. It was pretty clear that some of this just wasn't sticking to that little clockwork mind of his, Gabriel noted, but he would come back to that later. At the moment he was on a roll.
"And, since you're brand new to the business, you get partnered up with one of our senior dancers and go to rehearsals and training sessions with them. That includes all of their gym sessions, most of the specific work-outs designed for them, and eventually performances onstage. So, just sign here and we're good to go."
Cas took the offered pen and signed in his thin writing before Gabriel smoothly slid the paper out of the way, eyes going over it quickly before he nodded once in confirmation.
"Welcome to Crossroads, little brother. If you'll follow me, I believe your new partner is running rehearsal." He commented vaguely, pulling open the drawer with all the employee's information and filing it neatly before closing it again.
Snatching his package of sour keys from the desk, the blond male slid out from behind the desk and moved over to the door that led down into the main floor of the club. Opening it, he double checked that Cas was still close behind before stepping out onto the stairs and leaning over the rail to watch Dean as he finished up his current routine.
Castiel paused next to him, unsure of why his elder brother had stopped, but followed his line of vision to the stage, where a single dancer was currently moving slowly to something that sounded vaguely African.
His skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but he didn't seem to care as he stepped to one side. A thin frame was only just covered with a grey wife-beater, while a pair of grey sweatpants hung low on well-formed hips. Blond hair stuck up in every direction, and even as he watched, Castiel noted how it seemed to fluff out even more.
Then the male paused, and a British voice started to speak.
"Not bad. For the improvisation, I would suggest demonstrating your flexibility with a couple of flips, but other than that you've picked the whole routine up fairly well."
"You know I try, Crowley." The male smirked, sauntering over to the edge of the stage and dropping down to sit. "I think we could do it tomorrow, providing Michael actually shows up."
The other man- Crowley- a lean, muscled man who looked to be in his early forties, snorted, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.
"Oh, he'll show up alright. I don't care if I personally have to drag him here by the balls, either."
"Always good to know you've got my back there, Crowley." The blond chuckled, shaking his head. "But I wouldn't drag him here by the balls. God knows he might actually need them someday. Not to mention that his voice is just fine as is. I don't think the ladies would appreciate you taking all of that away from them."
Before Crowley could reply, Gabriel sucked in a breath and leaned further over the railing.
"Oh Deaaaaaan!"
The blond- Dean- looked up immediately, a brow already quirked as he appraised the pair.
"What?" he called back, relaxing into a comfortable position and huffing. "If this is about the water bottle thing with Sammy, I swear it wasn't me this time! I blame Michael!"
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Dean, if this was about the Holy Water, you'd have known about it by now!" he retorted. "Besides, it was me, if you're really all that concerned about it, so just let it be!"
"Then what do you want?" Dean yelled back in exasperation.
"Say hello to your new partner!" Gabriel grinned broadly, gesturing to the extremely uncomfortable male next to him. "Castiel, wave back now. It's not polite to just say nothing, you know!"
"Hello." Castiel reluctantly replied, half-heartedly raising his forearm in a small wave.
Dean looked him over before raising a brow at the strawberry blond male. There didn't appear to be any need to verbalize what he was thinking- Gabriel knew his long-time friend well enough to guess what he was thinking at the moment.
"You're teaching him everything you know, Dean! And go easy on him- my little brother's not as tough as I am!" he called back with a cheery smile he knew would no doubt earn him a special type of complaint later.
With that said, Gabriel walked back into his office and closed the door heavily. A moment later, Castiel heard the locks click, effectively throwing him to the wolves. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he felt two pairs of eyes on him, and he swallowed heavily.
He definitely regretted ever betting against Ellen Harvelle in the first place.