Big Bad World One - Chapter 1

Guys! It's my first AU. Don't close the tab yet, just listen to this. It's an office-AU, where Sam is a lawyer and meets cutie. Dean on the other hand has met cutie already, but is too much manly macho to pursue his big gay crush. Oh, and he's the janitor. This whole fic is named and inspired by Jonathan Coulton's "Big Bad World One" (seriously, check out this guy's stuff, he's awesome!), which was the first song I learned to play on guitar.

Warnings: none so far. Maybe smut in the future, idk. Rating may change. Oh, and this is both a Destiel and a Sabriel story :)

It was Thursday, which was definitely Dean's favorite day of the week.

Not because it was the day before Friday, which practically was already weekend, but because Thursday was his day to repair the air conditioner on the second floor.

The whole second floor in the company's building was an open space office with cubicles, and the employees who worked there were mostly just support guys. They were the guys you spoke to on the phone when you called the hotline, the ones who had to deal with all the bitching customers that didn't try turning it off and on again. Most of them, Dean didn't deign to look at.

But there was in fact a special one. Castiel Novak said the name badge on his particular cubicle, and he was... well. Different.

Dean had met him when the AC really had malfunctioned for the first time, a few weeks back, maybe months by now. Castiel had the second desk from where the AC was fixed to the wall, and from the first moment Dean stepped into that open space office, Castiel had caught his eye. Dark brown, messed up hair, a 5 o'clock shadow on his cheeks, wearing the company's shirt and black dress pants. All of this plus the most intense, mesmerizing pair of baby blue eyes the janitor had ever seen.

Yeah, right, because Dean was the janitor. For two years now, he had worked for this company, Wesson enterprises, a huge manufacturer and retailer for PC components. He had always been good at working with his hands, getting himself greasy and sweaty was nothing he minded. The job was fun, all in all, because it gave variety. He was the one that got called when the coffee machine was on strike for no obvious reason, or when the director's car just wouldn't start, or when the AC on the second floor produced just more hot air instead of the cool version thereof. In May, when the first warm summer breeze swept over the city.

And there sat Castiel – what a strange name, and Dean had long since begun to call him "Cas" whenever he thought about him, which was fairly often lately – just a few feet away, headset on his head, talking into his micro with one hell of a deep, guttural voice. A voice that when Dean had first heard it, he stopped working on the AC involuntarily for a moment or two (or three) to just stare into the machine and let that smooth rumble of words swash over him. This voice was badass, and bedroom, and Dean could imagine very well how Cas could simply talk someone to orgasm.

He had been so distracted that he didn't notice the single screw he forgot to drill back to where it belonged.

Two weeks later, on a Thursday yet again, Dean had got a call to his work cell – the AC on the second floor was rattling so loud that they had to turn it off. Talking to someone on the phone was impossible, which was kind of semi-optimal for a call-center. When Dean had hurried over to the open space office, the people were sweating and complaining, and he did his best to fix the AC as soon as possible.

And because it was the beginning of June, and yet another hot day, and even warmer in the room because of the malfunctioning AC, Dean had taken off his jacket. That way, he repaired the machine wearing only his blue overall and a plain white shirt underneath. It was old and kinda grey-ish from too many wash cycles in the washing machine, with old stains on it that would never vanish again. It wasn't supposed to be seen, but working in this particular shirt hadn't exactly been Dean's intention when he pulled it on this morning. He just liked it because it fitted perfectly, maybe just a bit to tight around his arms and chest.

Therefore, it was still surprising to him when he turned around shortly to get a screwdriver from his tool box, wiping away the sweat from his forehead with the back of his palm, and found Castiel staring directly at him. Dean swallowed heavily at the glance in his eyes, but mostly because of the display of Cas' perfect face. Plush, full and very kissable lips, a single stubborn hair strand curling onto his forehead, that damn stubble and those breathtaking blue eyes, blown wide open and staring at Dean.

When their eyes met, it was maybe just for a second or two, but Dean stood there, completely frozen half-way through his work and couldn't look away. It was the blonde-haired guy sitting next to Castiel who broke the awkward moment by throwing a red paper clip at his head. Dean quickly turned back to the AC.

"Heya, Cassie, time for lunch?" Dean heard the guy asking in a very weird mash-up of different accents.

"Just give me ten more minutes," Castiel had answered. "I'd like to finish this."

And Dean hadn't been so sure what he meant exactly, as he turned his back on him during that conversation. But when they had gone on lunch break a few minutes later, Dean exchanged one last glance with Cas before he left the room. It was too quick to shoot him a smile, unfortunately.

Dean had silently gone back to fix the AC. And he had found out about the screw he had forgotten. But damn, if that screw got him to the second floor, into this very room every two weeks... He totally had to take that chance – and didn't apply the screw properly.

Promptly, the next Thursday the AC was rattling yet again, and Dean all but grinned triumphantly when he got the call to fix it. But instead of giving in to his joy, he simply stated that the machine apparently was crap and that he would fix it as soon as possible. He never had much to do like this – he knew it was just the single screw – but it always took Dean forever to disassemble the whole machine to reach the loose screw. That way he would always have at least an hour in the office to repair it. And he had the benefit of a really interesting guy a few feet away from him.

As it turned out, the blonde guy's name was Balthazar, and he was apparently Castiel's office buddy. The only one. He didn't talk much when he wasn't on the phone with a customer, and if he talked, it was with Balthazar only.

Dean only got the stares, the long looks, and he had come to a state where he felt a prickle in his neck as soon as Cas' eyes were resting on him. Every so often, he would casually turn around and look back, just to see Castiel turn away quickly.

He didn't even know what he was doing there. If there was any chance that this – whatever it was – would evolve into something – whatever he hoped it to be. Dean had no idea whatsoever. For now, he knew he loved his Thursdays because it would be Cas' days.

Maybe he would talk to him one day.

"What is it with you? For this time of the day, you're in a disgustingly happy mood," Sam yawned when he had seen him this morning. They shared an apartment, just because of convenience, and despite his brother's flaws, he was a practicable roommate. They had gotten used to each other over the years. Unfortunately, this resulted in the fact that Sam could read Dean like a book. Sometimes.

"Oh screw you," Dean snarled half-heartedly.

"Don't tell me there is nothing going on. And don't tell me you've hit on the bosses' secretary again. No matter what you think, she's not interested," Sam answered, reaching for his toothbrush and paste.

"It's not the secretary," Dean had answered quietly, in a way too suggestive tone, which surely wasn't intended.

But Sam picked up on it instantly. "Oh. Oh! So who else is it, then?" and the bastard even had the nerve to grin smugly at him in the mirror.

Dean rolled his eyes. "No one."

"Now you're being childish. Answer me, or I'll bug you for the rest of the day. Until you tell me," Sam nudged his side with his elbow.

"Look who's talking," Dean deadpanned. Damn Sam. "It's just... I'll have to repair the AC in the second floor today-"

"The one that's constantly broken? In the call-center?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that one."

"Nice girl running around there?" Sam raised his eyebrows questioning when Dean didn't continue.

"Nope. It's... look, dude, I have no clue what's going on. But there's this guy, and I just... ugh, forget it," Dean shook his head and left the bathroom, admittedly freaking out a bit from his own reaction. What should he tell Sam? That the guy had stupidly wonderful blue eyes? That he made his stomach kinda tingle and letting him feel nervous, like, high-school-nervous, when he stood there working on the AC?

Sam was after him pretty quickly. "Wait. Wai-wai-waaaait. You're crushing on a dude?" he asked in disbelief. The grin on his face was both surprised and... happy. Which Dean only commented with a groan.

"I'm not in love with the guy, Sam, c'mon. I'm straight."

"Yeah, whatever makes you sleep at night. Anyway, have you ever talked to him?" Sam inquired further.

Dean was actually a bit embarrassed when he shook his head and avoided his brother's gaze.

"Not once? Not one hello?"

"Nope."

"I don't want to hear that when I come home tonight. You talk to the guy today, are we clear?" Sam actually had the nerve to even rebuke him like their mom would have, even in her usual tone, and it made Dean sigh in defeat. "You'll thank me later."

"Fine," Dean snarled, but inwardly, he was way too much looking forward to today to really be angry at Sam. Besides, his giant little brother had a point. Maybe talking to Cas would be-

"What's his name, by the way?" Sam interrupted his train of thought.

"Cas," Dean answered quick like a shot, and only then noticed he had used the nickname he had come up with for himself. "I mean... His full name is Castiel Novak."

"Huh," Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. "I'm less worried about that weird-ass name than about the fact that you already got a nickname for him."

"Oh, shut your cakehole and get a move on. We gotta go to work."

Sam tied the simple black tie around his neck and adjusted it. After a short check in the mirror, he was good to go. The suit still fitted perfectly. As one of the lawyers working for Wesson, he was supposed to at least wear a blazer at work, but today's outfit was especially neat.

"Even for you, that's a bit overdressed. Why the suit up?" Dean asked suspiciously and quirked an eyebrow, just when they went down to the parking garage for their car – Dean's cherished black '67 Impala.

"Company party today. The new boss will be introduced, he got promoted from a different department. And I want to make a good first expression."

Dean just snorted when he looked down at his usual blue overall. He may also wear a tight black t-shirt underneath today. Not for Cas, obviously. The janitor was just curious how he would react once he saw him in this one.

Okay, maybe the t-shirt was especially for Cas.

So. That would be chapter 1. Destiel for the start, so what do you think of it? :)