A/N: Soooo, here I am again! Weeee! I had this inspiration when I was out the other day with my client; we were eating at Shari's. It's a pie place. With auh-may-zing breakfast, also, oml. BUT, Anna Miller's was used in this fiction, instead. It's an actual place, google it. It's almost the same as Shari's, basically. Unfg. Anyhoodles, Dean and Sam aren't related in this, so therefore, no Wincest. Age gap, slightly, but not too bad. I'll put warnings in every chapter, as usual. Sam is a waiter, and in college, age 22. Dean is a lawyer, filthy rich, but not snobby. Read on! More information in the actual story. Right now, it may be just a couple of chapters, depending on the feedback. No beta, all mistakes my own.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sam Wesson and Dean Smith, boo. :(

Warnings: Swearing...? I think that's it.

Dean Loves His Pie...Among Other Things

Chapter 1

Dean Smith carefully pulled up into the open parking space and hummed in satisfaction when he parked his black Impala perfectly, avoiding scratching his beauty of a car. He whistled a tune, turned off the car, and proceeded to grab his black briefcase and laptop bag. It was routine to come to Anna Miller's resturaunt everyday, usually around this time, to prepare for his client for the following day. Dean, 30 years old, works for a huge company; he has now for about 4 years now; he's decided to keep up with the "family business" and pursue his path as a lawyer. And he's a damn good one at that, given his reputation. He works hard, long hour days, and enjoys every second of it. His Friday nights usually consists of paperwork, unfinished business on his laptop (to include the demanding and tiresome emails from his boss, oh joy!), all with a couple of beers. Sometimes, his job is demanding; he's used to the long hours, but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Locking his car, he smiles up at Anna Miller's neon sign, and heads inside, his stomach growling.

xxxS&Dxxx

Sam Wesson huffs his chestnut bangs out of his face, as he cleans another table, collecting dirty silverware and glasses and setting them carefully into the mahogany bin he's clutching to his stomach. Glancing up at the clock, he noticed it was 2:30pm, and the corners of his mouth turned up, forming a cheesy grin.

2:30 pm.

That meant only one thing.

That meant any minute now, Dean Smith would walk through the double doors, whistling the same familiar tune that Sam knew by heart now, and choose the same booth to open his laptop, engulfing with the pressures of his white collar job. His booth sits off in the corner, secluded away from the hustle and bustle of the other waiters running around, so quick to take care of the orders of those hungry customers.

And, to be honest, Sam does not blame Dean. He would do the same thing, given his circumstances. He attends San Jacinto Junior College, majoring in physcology. The class is somewhat tedious, homework not really much better, but he's used to it and enjoys the class, nonetheless. He loves learning about the function and emotions of the brain. Sam is 22, and he's been enrolled at SJJC for almost a year, with his basic studies already completed the previous year. Averaging an A- in his class, he also works at Anna Miller's, waiting tables, on the side for his rent and other necessities. Usually, his class is over at 1 pm. Immediately, he heads over to Anna's, (changing into his uniform in the bathroom) and does his scheduled shift, working until 8 pm, or even later than that. It just depends on the day and service. It's either dragging by, in this case, Sam commonly finds himself continously yawning, bored out of his mind, or so busy he doesn't even have the time for his own dinner. But, when they aren't busy, he takes the time to gaze dreamily at Dean from afar. No shame.

Which brings us to the here and now.

Sam wiped his rag repeatedly over the same spot on the counter as he eyed Dean, and his stomach did flip-flops. It always does. Never seems to fail him.

"I'm pretty sure that same spot you've been wiping down for the past 5 minutes is clean, Sam."

Sam jumped at Jo Harvelle's amused voice from behind him, momentarily tearing his gaze from the beautiful businessman sipping his coffee with contentment.

"Here...You've got a little drool right here. Let me just..." Jo said playfully, her thumb wiping Sam's mouth.

"I-I wasn't...I was just cleaning the counters..." Sam scoffed in denial.

She smirked, her arms now folded across her bosom. She had an evil glint in her eye, and a second later, she bounced off to sexy suit man's table, a menu in hand.

"Shit!" Sam muttered, his face turning bright red, and he huddled behind the coffeemaker. He went back to wiping down the machine, his eyes intent on them both. Please, don't do anything stupid. Please, don't SAY anything stupid. Do NOT embarrass me, Jo. He thought, grimacing.

Jo laughed loudly, flipping her blonde ponytail back as Dean chatted with her. Sam watched as Jo leaned over, her chest practically in Dean's face.

"Seriously?! How could she do this to me?!" Sam frowned, his jaw clenching painfully. I wish he'd look at ME that way. He thought, now depressed with this whole situation. He sighed, now fiddling with the rag, wringing the dirty cloth over and over nervously in his hands, still silently watching the scene before him. He watched with envy, as Jo shrugged and walked away with a smile.

Approaching the counter with bold enthusiasm, she simply said, "Yep, definitely gay. You're welcome."

Sam gaped at her. "W-What? How do you k-know?" He asked, carefully searching her face for any signs of fibbing or joking around, and found nothing but honesty on her face.

"Sam, I practically had my boobs shoved in his face, and he didn't even seem phased. He didn't bat an eye." She exclaimed calmly.

"Uh huh, ok." Sam muttered, peering over yonder at the gorgeous wealthy man, typing away at his laptop.

"Anyways, he's all yours. Once again. You're welcome." She repeated, and headed for the front counter as a young girl in pigtails licked her lips, eyeing the chocolate silk pie hungrily.

"Jo!" Sam hissed, panicking. He looked around frantically, and took a deep breath, composing himself. Blushing, he murmured out a quiet, "Thank you! You're the best!"

Jo smiled. "Damn right I am."

Composing himself once again, he smoothed his shirt, and headed for Mr. Sexy. He could feel the pounding of his heart through his ears.

"H-Hi. Is there anything I can get you? Maybe some p-pie?" Sam asked politely. He always suggests the pie, knowing the other man loves it and orders it almost every single time. He does love his apple pie...

Dean looked up with a smile. "Do you have the apple pie today?"

Bingo!

"Y-Yeah, we do." Sam mumbled, taking out his pen and paper to jot down the older man's order. His eyes...Fuck.

"I'll have that, with a bacon cheeseburger, cooked well done, and a side of fries. I shouldn't be eating all this junk food..." Dean muttered the last part with a frown, rubbing his otherwise perfectly toned (probably!) abs.

"I think you look great!" Sam blurted out. Shit! No!

"Thanks?" Dean shook his head slowly, and grinned, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

"You're welcome." Sam winced, and he felt his face heat up. Good going, dumbass.

"Who's your friend?" Dean asked, his head gesturing to a bubbly Jo at the cash register.

"Oh, that's Jo. She's...great." Sam deadpanned. Seriously?! Geez, get a grip! Why is he asking about her? "Why?"

Dean shrugged, and took a sip of his black coffee. "I'm just wondering."

"Oh." Sam said displeasingly, his face falling. Yeah, gay my ass. He's straight. "I'll get this to the back kitchen. I-It should be ready, soon."

"Thank you, Sam." Dean grinned, eyeing Sam's name tag with his irresistable emerald eyes.

Sam shivered at the way Dean said his name, so husky, so smooth, and damn it, Sam had it bad. He nodded and headed for the counter, distraught. "Gay my ass..." He mumbled with a huff. He felt naseous, walking to the bathroom with a frown. He wanted to cry. So much for that...

xxxS&Dxxx

Dean watched the waiter, Sam was it?, walk off with a seemingly forced smile. Dean knew those; he deals with them daily. He bit his lip worriedly. I hope he's ok. He's really adorable. Dean thought. Nice long legs that go on for miles, those dimples, god. I wonder how old he is. "Jo! Hey!" Dean said smiling, as he acknowledged the entergetic blonde heading towards his table, the cheeseburger and fries in hand.

Carefully setting down the somewhat hot plate, she replied cheerfully, "Dean. Here's your burger, well done, and a side of fries. How's everything else going?"

"How old is Sam?" Dean blurted out.

"Sam?" Jo tapped her chin, thinking. "Oh, he's 22, I believe. He goes to San Jacinto College with me. Why?" She smirked.

22. Hmm. Not bad, that's only 8 years. "I'm just wondering. Where did he run off to?" Dean questioned, glancing around curiously for the taller man.

"I think he went to the bathroom. He mentioned he felt a little sick. Sorry." Jo apologized with a shrug.

"Oh ok, well that sucks."

Jo hummed. "Well, let me know if there's anything else I can get for you. Ok?"

"Ok." Dean smiled and popped a fry in his mouth.

xxxS&Dxxx

Sam frowned as he watched Dean smile at Jo. I want to be the one to put that smile on his face. Wiping his hands on his pants, he went to grab Dean's pie.

"Here's your pie. Anything else you need, Dean?" Sam stated, forcing that same smile from earlier.

"I'm good for now, thank you, Sammy." Dean said around a mouthful of food, his eyes lighting up when Sam set the hot homemade apple pie before him.

Sam whimpered at the nickname Dean gave him, and tried to calm his racing heart. Sammy? Why did he call me that? Doesn't matter, he's straight. "Y-Yeah, no problem."

"Hey, are you feeling any better?" Dean asked, his voice laced with worry.

"Huh?" Sam replied, stumped.

"Jo said you weren't feeling well earlier." Dean pressed.

Damn you, Jo Harvelle. "Yeah, 'M ok." Sam answered quietly. I am now, here with you.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that." Dean said. "Thank you for the pie."

Sam nodded dumbly, and, this time when he walked away, his smile wasn't so forced.

xxxS&Dxxx

Yep. Definitely a cutie. I'm glad he's feeling better. Good to know. Dean thought happily, scooping up the last remains of his delicious apple pie. Great. Now it's back to work. And I didn't even finish the emails. He sighed, and pulled out a $5 for Sam, folding it and placing it neatly under his now empty plate. He packed up his belongings, shuffling his way to the counter to pay. His brow furrowed as he saw Sam and jo whispering frantically amongst themselves. He pulled out his wallet, eyeing the rows of pies, varying from chocolate silk, peach, lemon meringue, blueberry, and pecan and eavesdropped a little, amused, at the two bickering. "Couple troubles?"

"I'm gay."

"Oh, he's gay."

They both spoke in unison, then Sam turned tomato red, and Jo walked off, grunting in dismay.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "That's good to know, I guess." He shrugged as Sam rang him up.

Sam swallowed as Dean gave him his visa card. Well, now he knows. It doesn't even matter, HE'S STRAIGHT. "That'll be 12.62."

Dean nodded as Sam swiped his card. "Is everything ok with you and Jo?" He quiered and popped a mint into his mouth.

Sam rolled his eyes. "She's pissed at me because I got an A on an exam, and she got a B-."

"Uh huh. That's still a B." Dean said, his face confused, trying to understand.

"Right?!" Sam said, agreeing, handing Dean's card back. For a moment, their fingers brushed together, and Sam whimpered at the warm contact.

Dean noticed, but chose to keep his mouth shut. Another day. He seems embarrassed enough. Dean decided. He rolled the mint around in his mouth, watching Sam's eyes follow the movement. "Everything ok, Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice gruff.

Sam rushed out, "Yeah, great." He felt his cock stir as his eyes trailed to the thin expanse of skin, Dean's collerbone, and noticed he had small freckles. For a moment, he wondered just how many more are on this gorgeous man's body.

"Have a good day." Dean smiled, picking up his briefcase.

"You too, Dean." Sam whispered, entranced by this man's beauty.

"Sammy." Dean said once more.

Sam's cock twitched, now painfully hard, as he watched his crush leave. Damn it. I hope I see him again tomorrow...

Reviews make me :D You should review, because there's more to this. ;)

Marianne xoxoxo