The alarm clock blared again.
Why the hell had Sam changed the alarm from the radio to some kind of fog horn anyway? Dean had to practically peel himself from the ceiling while his heart pounded a million miles a minute, but it still didn't make him feel more awake once the ardenaline had faded away.
The little bitch would pay. Later. Right now, Dean still had time for 5 more minutes...
When his phone rang later, Dean knew that he had slept more than 5 more minutes. He grabbed the phone and hurried out of bed, stubbed his toe on a chair and tumbled into the bathroom before he turned on the shower. He cleared his throat before he answered the phone and tried to sound bright and awake.
"Hey, Sammy! I´m on my way, give me 5 more minutes, okay?" Hastily, he pulled off the t-shirt and jeans he had fallen asleep in last night. He pulled off his dirty boxers and stepped into the shower while Sam's voice nagged in his ear.
"You overslept again, didn't you?"
Dammit, how did he know?
"What? Sam, I'm hanging up now, I'm still in the shower. Talk later." With that, he threw his phone at his pile of clothes and quickly wet and shampooed his hair. 30 seconds later, he was out of the shower as water dripped on the tiles. Fuck, he had forgotten to bring a towel with him from the bedroom in his post sleep haste. Hurriedly, he debated whether he wanted water everywhere on his floors while he got the towel or if there was a better alternative.
He grabbed the small handtowel from the sink and dried himself with that. No time for being picky. He pulled on his jeans, aware that he had to go commando today, which would be a bitch, put on some deodorant and ran into his room to find a clean t-shirt. He then thought he may have to dress it up just a little and pulled a blazer on top of it. He looked himself over in the mirror. He looked like a douche.
Just as he was about to change his mind and pull on a shirt instead of a t-shirt, his phone buzzed.
Sam: 5 minutes are up. Get your ass down here now or I'm leaving.
Dean was tempted to tell his little brother where to stick it, but really, he was out of time. He couldn't find his socks and just pulled on his shoes, thankful that his jeans were long enough to hide his bare feet. God, he just wanted this day to be over and quick!
He grabbed his bag and locked up the apartment. 20 seconds later, he caught up with Sam.
"Sam! Wait up, man!" Sam didn't wait. He just continued his stroll down the sidewalk and looked calm and collected. He even wore socks. Ass.
"Morning, Dean. I see you had a calm morning, hm?" Bitch.
Dean tried for nonchalance and gave a little laugh."Heh, yeah, you know, nothing like having plenty of time in the morning!"
He straightened his jacket as they reached the first shop window. He looked every bit of the mess he was this morning. Shit! His hair! It was everywhere! He tried desperately to smooth it down one way or another, but it only worked half way. It was all over the place in the back. Had he been standing on his head in his sleep?
"Right," Sam mumbled. He did not sound impressed at all. Dean caught up with him again and got a styrofoam cup of coffee from his brother. Well, maybe not so much of an ass anyway.
"Thanks, man!" He accepted the cup gratefully and carefully pulled off the lid.
Oh, what a fantastic smell. Pure and simple drip coffee. He could've kissed Sam, but he didn't. Instead he took a small sip from the brew and stopped to let himself savor the taste. His brain began to calm down and he could feel the adrenaline leave his body as he started to think more clearly.
He opened his eyes again and looked at the shop window he was standing outside of. It was a men's wear shop called Birds and the Bees. Really? Men's wear? It sounded more like a shop for children. It was open and it had a sale on underwear. He looked at his watch. He could make it if the shop was open.
"Sam! Wait up." Sam stopped and turned around and looked at his disheveled brother as he stood outside of a men's wear boutique. What the hell was he up to now?
"Dean, we don't have time for this now," he said impatiently.
"Sure, we do. What are they gonna do, start without us?" he said with a shit eating grin and hurried inside the shop.
It was empty, but then again, it had only just opened for the day. It was a small, cozy shop, with a lot of different styles and accessories. There was everything from jeans to suits, and Texas belt buckles to silk ties and...hairpins?
Dean smiled a little at that. What a weird collection of crap, he thought with a smile. There was a rich smell of spices, tea and coffee and something sweet that Dean couldn't put his finger on. He quickly found the underwear, 2 pairs for the price of one. He also found a packet of socks and a scarf he thought looked cool.
He brought it to the counter to pay for it, but nobody was standing there. A small bell stood on the table with the old fashioned cash register. It looked like something from out of a western. Dean loved it. Ring for help, a sign said, so Dean rang the bell. A few seconds later, a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and almost scared the crap out of Dean as he admired the eclectic decor around him.
"May I help you?" A deep, rumbly voice said as it pulled Dean out of his fascination with the little shop. He looked up at the man on the other side of the counter. Dark hair, blue eyes, chapped lips, pale skin. For some reason, Dean thought he looked European. Dean also thought he looked cute as he smiled at him.
"Yes, please." He put his things on the counter and looked up at the man. "I´d like these things, if you don't mind."
The man on the other side gave him a small, friendly smile and nodded. "Of course."
He rang in the few items and pulled out a paper bag that had a revolver, a sparrow and a bee on it. A weird motif, but the design made it work. Dean paid for the items and took the offered bag from the man.
He looked at the motif. "Cool bag." he said as he admired the design.
"Thank you." The man on the other side rumbled.
Dean looked up at the humble tone of voice."You made this?"
The man shook his head."No, my late father made it. It was his shop before he passed away." The man looked at the bag with wistful eyes.
"Oh. I'm sorry about your dad." Dean replied, not sure of what to say.
The man looked up at him with a genuine smile. "Thank you. But it's been a few years now, so..." Dean nodded. The guy had moved on. Good for him.
"I haven't seen you around here. Are you new in this area?"
The man shrugged. "Both yes and no. I grew up here, but moved away when I went to college. I returned last month when my brother had to give up the shop. I bought it from him and, well, here I am." Dean nodded. It made sense.
"Ah. Okay. Well, welcome back, then. I'm Dean," he said and gave the man his hand. Well, he tried to anyway. The man on the other side looked from Dean's face to his hand as if he found the custom very weird before he shook it.
"I´m Castiel. And thank you, Dean." They held on to each others hand a little too long and suddenly Dean felt his phone buzz in his jacket as it started to play the first few seconds of Smoke on the Water. Dean looked down at his pocket, still holding Castiel's hand in his.
"Maybe you should take that?" Castiel said and Dean looked up at him. He was smiling. He had a nice smile, pretty blue eyes and even though his hair was messier than Dean's, it looked great. More than great. It looked hot.
"Dean. Your phone is ringing. Let go of my hand and answer it." The command in his voice was unmistakable and Dean complied.
"Right. Right! Of course, sorry!" he said and let go of his hand and answered the phone.
"What the hell is taking so long?! We're expected to be there in 10 minutes, Dean! Get your ass in gear!" Sam hung up before Dean could say anything. He just looked up at Castiel and smiled a sheepish smile.
"I gotta go. I'm late." he said, but he didn't move. He just stared at Castiel. God, the man was gorgeous!
Castiel smiled a different smile. He was onto Dean. Fuck. But Dean couldn't really make himself care about that. Castiel moved from behind the counter and around to Dean's side. He grabbed Dean's arm and helped him to the door.
"We can´t have that, now can we?" He asked with a warm smile and Dean couldn't help but answer with a smile of his own.
As they reached the door, both of them stopped. Dean could feel Castiel's warmth and his breath smelled like tea and honey. They were so close to each other that Dean could have stretched his neck a little and he could touch Castiel. He could kiss Castiel.
Dean could hear the blood rush in his ears and his eyes zoomed in on Castiel's lips. God, how he wanted to taste them. Castiel's lips moved like he was talking but Dean couldn't hear him over the rush of blood in his ears. Castiel leaned up the door and moved even closer to Dean. God, he smelled good. Was he...? Was he going to kiss him? YesYEsYes!Please, yes! Then Castiel moved away and opened the door. He hadn't been leaning in to kiss Dean, he had just opened the door for him.
Dean was an idiot. His brain snapped out of its trance and he caught up with the world again.
"Have a nice day, Dean. Watch your step," he said as Dean stumbled out the door.
Dean smiled, embarrassed, as he almost lost his footing on the step down to the sidewalk. "Yeah, thank you," he stuttered. "You, you too, Cas."
Castiel smiled and leaned up against the door frame. "See you later," he said with a sexy smirk and his hands in his back pockets. Dean blushed like crazy and he felt his cheeks flame up.
"Yes! Yes, we, we´ll see. I mean, I´ll see you, see you later. Castiel. See you later. Bye." Dean hurried and turned around before he could embarrass himself further. God, he was an idiot!
"What was that?" Sam asked when Dean caught up with him.
"Nothing. Let's move," he said, as he tried not to look at his brother. "We´re late."
Sam just smiled a knowing smile as he looked back at the store and the man that stood in the doorway and looked back at them.
The board meeting had been delayed due to the brother's tardiness. Dean had been further delayed because he went to his office first and pulled the curtains shut to put on his new underwear and shirt.
As he had looked into his mirror, he knew he looked ridiculous with a white shirt and jeans. Why did he wear jeans? Oh yeah, right, because he had overslept. And why had he over slept? OH YEAH, BECAUSE GAMES OF THRONES HAD PREMIERED LAST NIGHT!
The new season was gonna kill him, he knew that. He had stayed up all night, skyping with Charlie about the newest episode, which had lead to Charlie's latest obsession, live action role playing. Dean had mocked her for it, but in the end, she had convinced him to join her and her friend this Saturday in the woods.
Later, as he said his goodbyes to her and crawled into bed at 4 in the fucking morning, he cursed himself for getting sucked into her geeky world and for the fact that he knew he wouldn't fall asleep for an hour, and then would have to make do on 2 hours of sleep. That wasn't enough for him on a good day, and he knew the board meeting would be a bitch to get through.
He had talked to his dad about it the week before and was mentally prepared on all the questions and answers that he and Sam had to answer, so that wasn't really a problem. Still, he was anxious to stand up in front of the Senior Partners for the first time without his dad at his side and take full responsibility for a multi million dollar entrepreneurial firm. Well, not alone as he had Sam at his side, but as the oldest of the brothers, the pressure would be on him more than on Sam.
And now, he was already late and dressed as a punk. Well, fuck me, Dean thought. He was actually quite comfortable and as he pulled on his socks, he decided to skip the shirt and pull on his t-shirt again. This was his firm now and he could dress anyway he wanted to, and if those old farts had a problem with that, they could go fuck themselves. Dean was tired of being looked down at, of not really measuring up to his old man. John Winchester was a silent owner now and Dean and Sam Winchester were presidents of the firm. Things were gonna change around the place. He just had to talk with Sam about that...
As he stepped inside the conference room, his determination and self confidence dropped a bit as all eyes now were on him. Everybody, Sam included, wore a suit and tie and Dean...Well, Dean wore worn out jeans, a t-shirt with the Rolling Stones on it and worn out biker boots. His hair was a mess and he had forgotten his bag in his office.
"Wassup?" he greeted the entire room of old men and women and he sat down at the end of the table. Sam's mouth was pulled together in a bitch face but Dean didn't give a shit.
"Let's get this show on the road," he said, and opened the meeting. And Dean slayed it in there. He answered all of their questions and concerns and he presented some of the few ideas he and Sam had for the company. Sam supported him and together, they closed the meeting two and a half hours later. Everybody seemed at ease and maybe not impressed with the two young Winchesters, but content with John Winchester's two successors. When they were alone in the room, Dean started to lean over the table for the coffee cups and old teabags as Sam closed his briefcase.
"Dean, that was...impressive," he said and Dean looked at him from across the huge table. He looked down at his hands that had 5 styrofoam cups and 7 porcelain cups with old teabags in them. He had big hands, so it wasn't really that impressive, he thought to himself.
"It's just cups, Sam. I'm sure you could hold onto more than I can," he said with a smile, even though he knew exactly what Sam meant.
Nonetheless, it made Sam smile. "No, you jerk, I meant the meeting. You really slayed it. I think you impressed the Senior Partners."
Dean looked away a little embarrassed. He put the cups and the trash on a little table for the cleaners to pick up later.
"Nah, nobody can impress those old bastards, you know that." He wiped his hands on his pant legs glad, yet again, that he didn't wear a suit.
Sam just shook his head, "Nevertheless, man, you did." He took his briefcase and followed Dean out of the conference room.
"So is this a new office rule, then? Casual Fridays everyday?" He asked his older brother as they went down the hall to their own offices.
"You know what, Sam," Dean said in a very serious voice, "I think that is a great idea. You should send out a memo." He clapped Sam's shoulder as they parted.
Sam's laughter rumbled down the hall until Dean closed his door. He leaned up against it and let go of his breath. He was a wreck. He couldn't believe they had actually made it.
"Well, that was fun," he said to no one in particular. He grabbed his spray bottle and started to mist his plants with water. He found it was a great way to relax.
At 5 o´clock on the dot, Sam poked his head inside of his big brother's door. "You just about ready?" he asked, then sighed as he saw the huge stacks of paper on Dean's desk. His brother buried in paperwork was a sight he would never get used to. Not when he knew what Dean's real passion was.
Though Dean had always done what their father asked, deep inside Dean was a rebel. He didn't care about the corporate life. He didn't care about staff meetings, senior partners or building projects abroad. And he sure as shit didn't care about all the paperwork that came with being Co-President of an international company.
Dean was a smart man, an intelligent man with a drive that could take him anywhere, if he put his mind to it. But he never did. He had always done what their father had told him to do. Sam was here by choice, Dean by default. Somebody had to lead the family business, and now that their father had retired, Sam and Dean were it.
Dean had started on the bottom and had worked his way to the top, but he had thrived as a foreman in the field. This, being head of the company, had happened too fast. Last year, John Winchester had suffered a minor stroke and had slowly released the reins over to his sons.
Sam, who had been studying law at Stanford, had been pulled in, but he had wanted this. Dean had been pulled in because he was the oldest of the two of them. You couldn't let the youngest son take over the entire thing when there was also an elder son. It just wouldn't look good.
Dean had grudgingly accepted his fate, had left the jeans and faded t shirts behind and suited up. He had been miserable. Today was the first time in a year, Sam had seen his brother at ease and out of the suit. Today, was also the first day John wasn´t at the office. He was at home, with Mary, supposedly happy.
Dean looked up at his brother. "It's 5 already?" he asked and looked around, maybe for the first time in hours. The office was more or less abandoned.
"Oh," he said, and looked down at his papers and then looked up at Sam again. "You just go on home Sam, I have to finish this before I go."
Sam stepped inside and opened the door. The office needed some air. "What are you doing?" he asked and stepped up to his brother and looked over his shoulders.
Contracts. They were always a bitch, but they were Sam's specialty.
Sam pulled a chair up to the desk. "Here, give them to me," he said and stretched out his arm for them.
Dean looked up. "You don't have to, Sam. Just go home. Jessica is waiting."
Yes, she was. Sam pulled his phone out and dialed his fiancé. "Hi, honey, it's me. I'm gonna be late today, sorry. Yeah, you know it," he said and laughed a little. Then, "Yeah, that sounds good. Enjoy your night. Love you," and hung up his phone.
"Jess is eating at a girlfriend's house. I'm all yours. Now, give."
Dean hesitated, then shook his head. "We need to talk about work hours here..." he grumbled and gave Sam a stack of contracts.
"We have a lot of things to talk about." Sam said with a smile and together, the two brothers started to read and sign contracts.