"Trenta blonde roast coffee please, with an inch for cream." A sleep rough voice startles Castiel out of his studying stupor. He jumps slightly, disturbing the delicate balance of textbooks and papers scattered around and on him. They flutter to the floor with his thousand pound Biology binder landing with a crash and a cringe worthy ripping sound.
Castiel works the night shift at Gabriel's, the best coffee place in their tiny bubble of a college town, that even beats out the Starbucks around the corner. With a strong local following, and the college kids desperate for as much caffeine as they can handle, Gabriel's generally gets more business than they can keep up with. However, Castiel works the 11 to 3 am shift, so he never has to deal with very many people. Crowds can be overwhelming.
This particular 2 am coffee seeking all-nighter is looking at him with wide, green eyes. They blink at him owlishly for a minute, as Castiel just stares between the man and the mess around him. Eventually the sex-on-legs in front of him bends down slowly, retrieving some of the papers that had fallen over the front of the counter. Instead of just placing them on the table, Leather Jacket begins reading over them, leaning down to rest his elbows on the table. Castiel figures he must really need his coffee or something, and watching him is becoming a little too surreal for 2 am.
Robotically he prepares the coffee, and then punches it into the register. When he looks over, Green Eyes has moved from just leaning on the counter, to sitting in a chair he must have pulled over from a table, and instead of just reading he now holds a pen in his hand. Castiel places the coffee in front of him and bends down to retrieve his papers and book. When he comes back up, papers neatly in hand, he catches Freckles checking out his butt in his slightly too tight jeans with wide eyes, and his mouth popped open in a little 'O' shape. The man quickly looks away, blushing. Castiel blushes as well. That had been unexpected.
Castiel decides to just roll with it. He points at the coffee and croaks, "$2.95 please." Green Eyes inhales sharply in surprise at how rough he sounds, and Castiel coughs to clear his throat a bit from its disuse. He fishes through his pockets for the change, and Castiel sticks it into the register, and sits back down on his stool. He wonders if Green Eyes is going to leave now or stay awhile. He still has Castiel's papers in hand, pen stuck delicately between his pink lips. Castiel has to avert his eyes or be caught staring, like the other man had been.
"So… you know your bio?" He asks, pointing to the papers. He pulls out the tape, and sets to work repairing his binder's papers.
"Uh… yeah, I guess. I TA for the B section of this course."
"You guess? They don't pick TA's who don't know the material. I'm in the A section. What's your name?" Castiel sticks out his hand. It hovers over the countertop and the untouched steaming coffee for a moment before Green Eyes puts down the papers he'd been correcting and takes it.
"I'm Dean. Dean Winchester."
"Nice to meet you Dean. I'm James. James Bond." Castiel laughs at his own stupid joke, but surprisingly Dean laughs too, and not in just a humoring way, but in a that-was-actually-funny way. Castiel blushes and looks down at their still linked hands. He realizes how strange it must be to have such a prolonged hand holding session with a stranger, and quickly pulls away and sits back down awkwardly. When he peeks back at Dean, the other man is just sitting and sipping his coffee while he reads Castiel's work over. So Castiel just gets back to his reading.
The silence is not awkward like it should have been. It was comfortable. When it gets closer to 3 am, Castiel starts to pack up. Dean hands him back all his work, corrections written on a separate scrap paper.
"You're pretty good at this stuff. What are you majoring in?" Dean drains his coffee and tosses the cup in the recycling.
"I'm undecided. I'll probably double in BioChem and Anthropology. What about you?" Dean whistles when Castiel lists his main subject interests.
"Nothing as difficult as either of those. I'm just a plain old Bio major." He zips up his leather jacket half way and puts the chair back.
"Pre-med?" Castiel asks.
"I dunno. Maybe. I'm only a Sophomore. I have some time to decide." Castiel hums in acknowledgement. He finishes closing the register and emptying the coffee pots. He moves around the counter to put up the chairs. Dean joins in.
"So what are you procrastinating working on right now?" Castiel asks conversationally.
"Hm? Oh. Nothing. Just... couldn't sleep." Dean avoids eye contact and for some reason it hits Castiel like he's holding something back, but its really none of his business, so he doesn't pursue it.
"Well, I've got a Psych paper due this Friday, so I gotta go work on it. It was nice seeing you Cas." Dean puts up the last chair and flashes a happy smile. Dean heads to the door, and just before he opens it Castiel's brain processes that sentence and he calls out,
"Wait a minute. How do you know my name? I didn't tell you and I don't wear a name tag." Suspiciously, with eyes narrowed and chin raised, he walks over to Dean, who turned, now leaning against the door, with the appearance of a startled deer.
"I, uh, well… I- I had- You see, uh…" Dean chuckles and looks at his feet sheepishly.
"Okay, this is going to sound so weird, but I know Gabe and I was here the other day and you were on you're way out, so you probably didn't see me but I saw you and you- you're just so attractive and cute!- and I was like, 'Gabe! Tell me you know who that is!' and Gabe was all like, 'Yo, thats my little bro,' and I asked him for your name and, um, yeah, I was gonna ask you for your number, but like if you're straight thats cool, Gabe wouldn't tell me cause he likes to see me suffer, and I mean we could be friends if you want, but I'd like to, like, date you and I swear i'm not a stalker or anything and I'm really babbling right now, I am so, so sorry, I will shut up right now." And Dean did shut up, but he also started slowly backing out of the shop. His face was tomato red, and Cas couldn't help but find it completely adorable.
He quickly caught up to Dean, before he could run away, and grabbed his arm gently. He reached into Dean's pocket in an uncharacteristically bold move, and pulled out his phone.
"Well, it would be a shame to leave here without getting what you came for." Without letting go of Dean's wrist, he put in his number. He could feel Dean's pulse racing, and he was sure his own was pounding just as fast.
"And Cas? Already giving me a nickname? Damn, Winchester. You move fast." He tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but Dean still seemed embarrassed, so Cas decided to just embarrass him even more, 'cause he was just so darn adorable, all flustered and awkward. You wouldn't think it, what with his leather jacket and devilishly good looks, but he was actually quite shy. It was endearing to Castiel. He was like dark chocolate filled with cherry syrup.
He kept subtly inching closer, until he was right up close, inches from Dean's face. He whispered in his ear,
"For the record, you are the incredibly cute one right now." He slipped the phone back into Dean's jeans pocket. Then he moved to give Dean a soft kiss on the cheek. After he pulled away he said,
"I expect you at my dorm at 7 on Friday. We're getting dinner. Okay?" Dean looked a little dazed, but nodded enthusiastically, before stumbling out to head back home. When Dean looked at his phone to check that it had in fact happened, and he hadn't imagined it all, he couldn't find anyone named Castiel in his phone. For a minute he panicked, quickly scrolling through all his contacts- and there it was. James Bond. 324-345-7777. That clever bastard nearly gave him a heart attack.
With a permanent grin on both their faces, Dean walked home and Cas closed up shop, and both went to sleep looking forward to Friday.