Cas sits down at his usual table, the one right next to the big window shining into the little café. It's also the only table with an outlet next to it. That, paired with the sun gleaming in, it couldn't be a more perfect spot. He plugs in the cord to his laptop as the waitress walks over to him, sets a sup down and pours him his usual medium roast coffee blend. "Thank you, Anna." He says, giving her a bright smile.
She blushes and flips her beautiful red hair over her shoulder. "Can I get you anything else, Castiel?"
Cas shakes his head and looks away, down at the computer because it has been booted up and logged onto. He clicks the icon for Google chrome and feels his heart beat a little faster, hoping Impala356 is online. He always is, always perfectly on time, but Cas still feels a sort of anxious excitement whenever he logs on, fearing the day Impala356 decides to quit their little game.
Anna had walked away, knowing as soon as he gets onto his computer he'd be too focused on whatever the hell it is he does to talk to her. She walks back behind the counter, takes a few more orders, and then picks up the fresh pot of coffee. She takes it past Cas, all the way to the far side of the café, past the entrance door and past a few rows of tables. She sets it down on Dean's table, pours the dark roast into the cup and leaves without a single thank you or reply from him.
He's on his computer too and she sighs as she walks back toward the front, past Castiel who is typing furiously. She remembers the first day he came in, laptop in arm. She had thought, maybe he's a writer. But, the few times she's gotten a peak at the screen it's been some website she'd never seen before. It was like Microsoft word, but there were highlights and when Cas leaned back to stretch, she'd she the words continue to flow from the yellow highlight. She assumed it was some kind of role play, like he was writing with another person online.
Castiel takes a sip of his coffee as Anna walks past him, keeps his eyes on the screen as he watches impala356 continue the story. It's strange, Castiel thinks, that is feels as if he knows the man on the other side of the computer just by his writing.
He feels as if he's known him forever, but they've only been role playing for a few months. He feels as if he knows the man, but he's only ever spoken to say hey, ready to rp?
Dean stops after the end quotation, picking up his coffee. Its cold now, but he doesn't care he still needs his caffeine fix. He stayed up all night last night, worrying about this damn story. Or, more than that, worrying about the man on the other end.
Dean doesn't even remember how it started, but suddenly he's role playing Star Trek with a man he's never met, in a little café he only ever comes to for this purpose: to write a story with a man he's never met.
He runs a hand down his face, lets out a small moan. He has to go to work in a few hours, should have slept in late with all this time off. Instead, he got himself up early to write a damn role play story. Dean shakes his head, lets the doubt go when he sees the writing stop again.
He leans forward and start typing, remembering how much he loves this even if he is a damn grown man. He can still enjoy writing a story. But, the doubt has settled into his stomach and refuses to leave even as he gets a great idea and begins writing it hurriedly.
Anna walks over to Dean's table twenty minutes after she gave him the coffee, setting down his usual breakfast. They had argued over that one, when Dean told her he didn't want to order breakfast and she had been forced to tell him he'd have to leave if he didn't order anything but coffee. So, they'd settled on bacon and toast twenty minutes after she gives him his coffee.
Dean usually sits on the side opposite her, so that the computer is hidden, but today the sun from the window behind him must have been putting a glare on the screen because he has shifted over a few inches. Curious, Anna walks a little closer to him as she sets down the plate, leaning over as she tries to catch a glimpse. Dean looks up at her, though, so she hurriedly walks back a few inches. "Do you want anything else?" She asks, flashing him a nervous smile.
He shift the laptop a bit and shakes his head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."
She nods, surprised by not only the way he hides the laptop but also by the thank you. "Okay, well, just um holler if you think of something." She walks backward a bit, waiting for him to say anything but he has returned his attention back to the screen, forgotten her. She lets out a long breath, fixes her apron, and turns back to the other customers waiting for their order.
The next few hours fly by and suddenly Dean's phone buzzes to let him know its time for work. He sighs, types into the chat box:
I have to go to work, continue later?
He taps his fingers on the table, staring at the screen until it bleeps and an reply is sent:
Yes. Goodbye.
Dean smiles for whatever reason and shut off his laptop. The battery is almost dead anyways, so they'd have to call it quits with or without the interruption of the job. He knows there's an outlet somewhere in the shop but it's across the room and somehow that guy in the trench coat always gets to it first.
Dean stuffs his laptop into his bag, lays some bills on the table and walks out of the shop. He eyes the man in the corner, still typing on his laptop. Dean can admire the guy, he looks pretty good hunched over a laptop with his hair messy like he didn't take the time to pat it down this morning. His constant wearing of a trench coat is kind of weird, but the guy is, well, hot. Dean can admire that, from afar.
He shakes his head, looks away and walks out into the cold brisk air of early morning. He feels that nervousness trickling back into his stomach, thinking about the story and about his admiring some man in a coffee shop.
He doesn't know why it freaks him out so much, thinking men are hot. Probably because of that time in high school- He stops that train of thought right there, refusing to remember that night. It was just one damn time.
He climbs into his baby, throws his bag onto the passenger seat. Work is going to be a killer today, he can feel his neck already aching from the writing this morning. Now he has to go in, do some paperwork for the building. The auto shop's structure is apparently 'not to code' so he's got to deal with about a hundred forms and regulations and it all makes him want to hit something but he can't really do anything but get it over with. If he lost the shop, his dad would kill him.
John had been getting sick, old age stuff, and had to turn the shop over to Dean. Dean suspects he had rather given it to Sammy, but the kid was going to law school in a few months. So, dad had to trust Dean with his shop, his life. And Dean wasn't going to lose it only a year after getting the responsibility of it.
Dean gets to the shop, signs a waver Ash hands him, then walks to his office. He throws his bag onto the floor, sits down at his desk and open the first folder of the goddamn forms.
The day drags on as he fills everything out, makes a few calls, and answers a few frantic questions from the new employee, Kevin. Usually he would mind Kevin being so consistent with his questions but Dean could use any distractions he could get from all this crap on his desk.
Dusk s settling by the time Dean gets everything done. After all the interruptions, it's a wonder he finished at all. But, as he closes the last folder, he can sit back in his chair and relax. That is, until another interruption comes through his office door. "Hey, Dean, it's the end of my shift but theres a guy out there says he needs his car looked at." Ash says, leaning against the archway of the door.
Dean sighs. "Alright, you can go home. Tell the guy I'll be out in a minute."
Ash nods and walks back out. Dean settles into his chair, runs his hands over his face and just sits there for a beat. Then, he gets up and walks out of his office, exhausted and just wanting a damn good night's sleep.
He stops in his tracks when he sees the man from the café, sitting patiently in their crapy 'waiting room' chairs. "Oh, hey," He says, surprised. Then, remembering that he's never actually met the man he says, "Uh, sorry to keep you waiting."
The man stands up, looks at Dean with kind blue eyes. "It's alright. You look like you've had a tiring day."
Dean laughs. "Yeah, just some stupid paperwork. What seems to be the problem?" Dean says, gesturing to the grey Volvo.
Castiel looks at it and frowns. "I think she said it just needs an oil change."
She. Dean thinks, feeling disappointment settle in his chest. "Oh, right. So it's not yours?"
He shakes his head. "No, sorry, my sister was working late and asked if I could take it in. It won't take long right?"
Dean shakes his head. Sister. "No, it shouldn't." He walks over to the car, checking the oil. "So, where does your sister work?"
Surprisingly, Cas doesn't sit down, instead walking over to the car and leaning up against it as Dean works. "She's history teacher at the middle school."
"Oh, that's awesome. I don't really like history, but I bet she's a great teacher." He says, undoing the cap.
"She is. I haven't really seen her in action but she puts a lot of work into planning lessons and trying to get her students to understand. We, uh, share an apartment and she bring a lot of her projects home to work on."
Dean nods, too engrossed in the process of oil changing to respond. Fifteen minutes later, he puts back on the cap and stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Well, that's it. Just wait a few seconds before driving it off the ramp."
The man nods. "Thank you for doing it so quickly. How much is the bill?"
Dean gestures to his office. "Let me go write it up." He starts walking back to his office and then stops. "Uh, can I get your name?"
The man turns. "Yeah, its Cas, uh, Castiel."
Dean nods. "Mmm, that's an interesting name."
Cas blushes and looks down. "Yeah, its um, the name of an angel."
Dean laughs, surprising Cas. "Wow, that's awesome. My names Dean, by the way."
Cas nods and flashed Dean a kind smile, his eyes lighting up with it. "Nice to meet you, Dean."
Dean nods, transfixed by the brightness of Cas's smile. Then, he shakes his head and continues back to his office, cursing himself under his breath for being so awkward. He fills out the bill, rips it off the stack and walks it back out to Cas. He signs, hands Dean the money in cash and drives the Volvo out of the shop. Dean watches him go, wondering if he'll be at the café tomorrow.