Polishing the top of the counter, Dean smiled over at the stage, where a grand piano stood. The bar was still quiet, and it stood there like a dormant black beast, waiting to be awoken. The lights were still all on, and Dean could see where the glossy finish on the legs had been scuffed by boots or shoes of people getting too close in the dark and stubbing their toes. Heaving a sigh, Dean put the cloth in the bucket of dirty laundry and let a professional eye roam over his back bar. All the liquor was in stock and the glasses looked clean and in ample supply.

"Dean-o!"

Dean grunted and put the keg in place. "Just a sec. If I don't do this properly..."

A cheerful chuckle sounded from the other side of the bar. "I know, bucko. It could get very ugly, very fast." By the sound of it, there was a sweet in the mouth that made those words. Sure enough, when Dean stood up, the grin he met was formed around the soggy stick of a sucker.

"Seriously, Gabriel. You'll get diabetes before you're fourty."

The 5'7" guy grinned even wider. "You got a drink for me, Dean-o? I just dropped Cassie off at the back."

Dean sighed and thanked his lucky starts that he'd come in early. Now he could just mix Gabe his revoltingly sweet drink, wash up the gear, and not waste any valuable time. "Sure thing. What'll you have?"

Gabe smacked his lips. "Strawberry daiquiri. Yeah. I'm in the mood for something pink today." The sunshine-through-whiskey eyes twinkled and Gabe winked. Rolling his eyes, Dean grabbed his first bottle.

"Yeah, Yeah... we know. You're fa-laaa-min'! Just shut up already. It's coming up."

Dean ignored the thumping of his heart, as always, when a gravelly voice could be heard, coming nearer. "Gabriel, stop pestering Dean. The man is busy. He needs his stuff in order before opening time. You know that."

Still shaking the sickingly sweet drink, Dean briefly closed his eyes and licked his lips, glad his back was turned on the room for now. Then he smiled his easy smile, and turned. "Heya Cas. It's ok. I got here early, so I got time. Would you like something too?"

Gabe made a little exited noise as Dean poured his drink and added a sliced strawberry on the pink sugared rim. Cas shook his ebony-coloured hair out of his eyes and one corner of his mouth quirked. His version of a quick smile, and Dean copied it unconsciously.

"Hello Dean. You're spoiling him." The friendly twinkle in those deep blue eyes kicked Dean's heart in tripletime, but he smirked loosely and wiped his hands.

"Big brothers gotta stick up for eachother, don't we, Gabe?"

Gabriel hurridly put his drink back down and swallowed. "Oh absolutely! Where do you think we get out secret plots to annoy our younger siblings? It's an elaborate conspiracy." Cas rolled his cerulean eyes and huffed. "Of course. Dean, could you make me a Rum Torchlight?"

Raising his eyebrows, Dean grabbed the Cholula sauce and the cayenne pepper. "Not your regular?" he asked, a bit alarmed. Cas seemed out of sorts today. A deathglare from those blue eyes hit Gabriel. "I don't really feel sweet today, Dean." Another swift look, this time an unreadable one, and it was directed at him. "I feel a bit fired up."

If this hadn't been Cas, Dean would have made a racy joke. Cas was one of the sexiest guys ever to walk into this bar, and he was totally oblivious of it. Meg, one of their regulars, had been trying to get him to go 'snipe hunting' (one of the oldest sex euphemisms in the book), and Cas had smiled that sweet, friendly smile and shook his head. "I don't like to kill, Meg. Every creature has the right to live."

Dean had given him an extra Gold Rush for the look on Meg's face. Cas had smiled warmly and thanked him. (Incidentally adding a few BPM to Dean's heartbeat.) He did have one question for Dean though. "Why do I deserve this? All I did was tell her my opinion. I really think these 'snipes' have a right to live."

Dean had shook his head and smiled. "Cas... don't ever change." he had said as he internally had thrown a party that Meg didn't get her claws in Cas. Cas had smiled into his glass and Dean had to go help another customer.

"Dean?"

Dean blinked and found those ocean blue eyes right in front of his. Cas was leaning over the counter and their faces were inches apart. Dean licked his lips and swallowed, his eyes darting to Cas' mouth. Damn those pink lips looked kissable. He cleared his throat. "Yeah?"

Cas leaned back. "You were miles away..."

"Yeah... sorry. Mind wandered a bit." He poured out Cas' drink, added a lime wedge on the rim, and dusted it with more cayenne. "Just trying to find out what could stoke your furnace enough to want a Torchlight."

Cas took the glass and nipped at the cold drink. He glared at Gabriel, who licked his straw, whilst watching the servers run around and get ready for opening. "You really need to wonder?"

Dean grinned. "Hm. That bad?" he offered.

Cas hummed. "The little troll has a week off. And how does he spend it? By hanging around me and annoying me out of any patience I had."

Dean grimaced. "YIKES."

His hands were swift and his movements certain. Also, his timing was impeccable, which was why, when Cas drained his glass, there was another waiting for him. Questioning blue eyes caught Dean's veridian ones. Heart thumping, Dean winked. "You'll need it."

Cas smiled wearily and picked up his second drink. He turned away and walked off towards the stage. Dean followed his retreating back, and especially his backside. Fuck, Cas had a great ass. A giggle had him blush and turn back towards Gabriel. Gabe grinned widely, biting in a slice of strawberry.

"Nice toosh on my baby bro, huh Dean-o?" The honey eyes twinkled mischievously. Dean glared at him. "You know, Cas is right about you... you're a little troll."

That was met with an even bigger, even more mischievous smile. "You're peas in a pod, bucko."

Dean shook his head as he rinsed out his gear. "We're friends, Gabe. We're bound to have similar ideas." He cast a glance over when the piano started to play. Cas sat behind the black monster and coaxed soft notes out of it. Dean sighed. As an amateur guitarist, he knew playing softly was way more difficult than playing loud. And Cas could make the old thing sound like it was weeping tears of pure grief. Dean regretted that his spot behind the bar didn't allow him to see Cas' hands. They were slim, the fingers long and nimble, and Dean wanted nothing more than watch them tickle the ivory. He was so occupied with Cas' hands, he didn't notice Gabe smirking, draining his daiquiri and walking over to his brother.