A/N: Thank you to FanGirl717 for the prompt for this fic! It's a great idea omg this is gonna be so much funnnn.
Chapter One
Castiel Novak is many things: a perfectionist, punctual, pop culture ignorant. But one thing he's not is lazy. That's why Gabriel knows something's up when it's peak business time and Cas is just sitting behind the cash register, staring into space, drumming his fingers slowly on the desk.
"Hey, Cas." Gabriel snaps his fingers in front of his friend's face. "Earth to Cas. What are you doing?"
Cas blinks a few times, sitting back in his chair and meeting Gabriel's eye. "Oh. Nothing. I was just... nothing."
"Yeah, exactly. C'mon, get back to work. Go... talk to someone, or something." He swaggers off, calling over his shoulder, "At least keep an eye on Balthazar!"
Tuning back into reality, Cas notices that the store is, indeed, packed. Although he's only really noticed one person.
Approximately twenty minutes earlier, a man had entered the clothes store in a plaid shirt and boots, and Cas hasn't taken his eyes off him since. He busies himself quickly with papers and accounts by the cash register, serving a few customers as they breeze through, eyes frequently flashing up to keep track of the handsome stranger.
He looks a bit lost, Cas thinks. He considers going over and helping him, but nerves clench his stomach. Yeah. He'll go over. In a minute.
Gabriel wanders back over a few minutes later, leaning over the counter to check that Cas is working again. "Gabe, I thought this promotion would make you work harder," Cas mutters without looking up.
"What are you talking about? I'm your supervisor." He spreads his arms out a little. "I'm supervising you." He leans back against the counter, turned towards the shop floor. "And them. And him."
"What are you –" Cas follows Gabriel's eyeline to see him gawking at handsome-plaid-man.
"Dibs," Gabriel mutters, standing up straight and checking his teeth in the mirror behind the counter.
"No," Cas says suddenly. Gabriel smirks, and Cas blushes. "I – he's – oh, come on."
"Oh, I see. Staring into space, were we? Doing nothing?" He jabs a finger into Cas's shoulder playfully. "You want him."
"Be quiet," Cas hisses as handsome-plaid-man wanders past. His brow is furrowed and he's holding some pants out in front of him like they're a bomb.
"Take over the cash register, will you?" Cas slaps Gabriel on the shoulder before dashing out to follow the man, leaving Gabriel effectively stranded. Good, Cas thinks. If he steals from the register I might get his job.
He doesn't stop walking as he approaches the man, keeping his eyes firmly front. The man's now wandered into the swimming section and is looking around himself, muttering "what the hell" under his breath.
"Excuse me, sir?" The man whips round at his voice and for the first time Cas notices his eyes. Whoa, he thinks, talk about beautiful. "You look a bit lost. I was wondering if you needed some help."
The man's face breaks out into a sheepish grin that looks so adorable on him that Cas sighs heavily. "Really? What was your first clue?" He laughs at his own joke before peering at Cas's name tag. "Castiel, huh? Is that, like, British or something?"
"It's one of the angels from Christian lore," Cas tells him, hands fidgeting in front of him, feeling like a teenager with a crush. Pull it together, you're working.
"Oh, nice. Exotic. Well, I'm Dean," he says, holding out his hand, "and shopping is not really my thing at all."
Cas takes the hand, feeling the warmth and the pressure and the skin. Then they let go.
"It just so happens I can help with that. What are you looking for?"
"Well, it's my brother's birthday in a couple days, and I thought I'd just get him a shirt or something." Dean shrugs, and gestures towards the pants he's still holding. "Got anything longer than this? He's kinda ginormous."
"Uh, sorry to rain on your parade, but those are women's pants." Cas takes them carefully from him and points to the crotch. "See how tight?"
"Oh." Dean runs a hand through his hair, and Cas can't decide whether it's dark blonde or light brown. "Right."
"There's also this." Cas opens the pants to show the flower print on the inside.
"Hey, he's an open minded guy," Dean says, then sighs. "Okay. I need help."
Cas puts the pants on the side and turns his full attention to Dean. He loves his job sometimes, he really does. He can spend hours with this man and not break a single rule. Well, he thinks mischievously, not yet.
"What kind of stuff does your brother like?"
"He wears a lot of plaid. And jeans." Dean looks down at his own outfit. "Basically the same as me, really."
Cas thinks for a few moments. "I suppose you could get him a shirt or something, but it's his birthday. Isn't there something more personal you could think of?"
"Uh..." Dean scratches his chin, and Cas notices the slight stubble peppering his jaw. "I don't know. We were never the Christmas List kind of family. I got no idea if he's wanted a My Little Pony playset since 1989."
"What's his job?" Cas starts walking back to the men's clothing section and Dean falls into step beside him.
"Tax lawyer. Boring stuff. Although..." Dean brings his hands up and begins gesturing with them, an idea forming in his mind, his mouth curling up at the side. Cas's heart stutters. "He has this really long hair, down to like his shoulders. It's ridiculous, I keep telling him to get it cut, that I'd do it for him if he gave me some friggin' clippers, but he loves the stuff." Dean raises his eyebrows in question. "Maybe I could get him a hairdryer?"
Cas grins, cocking an eyebrow. "Maybe not."
"No?"
"No. I've got a better idea."
He starts walking again, and Dean follows curiously. They make their way through the small crowd, throwing excuse mes and sorrys this way and that. Cas can feel Dean's presence behind him. He glances into a mirror as they pass the small cosmetics section, trying to flatten down his hair. It doesn't work. It hasn't worked for his whole twenty five years.
After a minute or so they reach their destination. Cas opens his arms out wide and whispers, "Tadah."
He glances at Dean's face to gauge his reaction. This was a risky move. He could have offended the guy. He starts to worry as Dean stares blankly at the racks before him, eyes wide. Oh God, he hates it. It was too far. Shit. How do I backtrack?
He builds an apology in his throat and is all ready to set it loose when Dean starts laughing.
Cas smiles as he watches. It really is a beautiful sight: Dean, doubled over in laughter, hands on his thighs, eyes screwed shut. The sound of his laugh echoes lightly, causing a few other customers to turn and smile.
"A hat?" Dean wheezes, standing up straighter. "A hat? Dude, you are a genius." He puts a hand on Cas's shoulder and turns to look at the selection in front of him. Picking up a pink cowboy hat, he says, "What about this? Too 'bachelor party'?"
"I'd say," replies Cas, replacing the cowboy hat on the shelf and picking up a longish beanie hat. "I was thinking more something like this."
"Ah, that's perfect. Grey and boring, just like Sammy." He smiles again, flipping it over to check the price tag. He nods a little. "Hey. Reasonable."
Cas just stands by him, watching as he turns the hat inside-out and stretches it a little. He tries it on, turning towards Cas with his hands on his hips. "What do you think. Sexy?" He pouts ridiculously. "Little blue steel for ya."
"I don't, uh – yeah, it looks good," Cas laughs, shoving his hands into his back pockets in an attempt to look nonchalant.
Dean waggles his eyebrows in response, snatching the hat off his head. "Alright. You, sir, have made a sale. Where do I pay for this thing?"
"There's a cash register by the back of the store. Follow me."
The way back is a lot less crowded than the way there, so they're able to walk side by side.
"I heard of this place from one of the guys at the auto shop," Dean says casually as they make their way towards the cash register. "I mean, these are guys that never talk about shopping, but he said he got some boots here that changed his life or something dumb like that."
"Really?" says Cas, amused.
"Swear to God. I've never heard of this place before, though. The Garrison. Is it new?"
They turn a corner. "Yeah, it's only been here for a few weeks. Business is great, though. Which is strange, because of the ten other clothes stores in the area."
"Maybe it's the great customer service," Dean jibes. Cas scoffs, but turns away to hide his blush.
They reach the counter where, surprise surprise, Gabriel has abandoned his post. Cas sighs dejectedly, but he knows he's secretly pleased. This way he gets to spend more time with Dean before the man leaves and may never come back.
He slides behind the counter and takes the hat from Dean's outstretched hand. He scans the tag and hits a few buttons. "That's seven dollars," he tells Dean, looking up from the counter. He doesn't expect Dean to be looking at him, though.
For a few moments the eye contact is unbreakable. There's something in this stranger, this confused, plaid wearing man, that makes Cas... happy. Nothing else. Just happy, like he could look at him for years and not label it as time wasted.
Then Dean pulls his wallet from his back pocket and looks down to pull out a note. He hands it to Cas, who focuses on getting the change. He pulls out three dollars from the cash register and hands it to the man. "Thank you," Cas says instinctively, "have a nice day."
"You too, Cas." Dean smiles happily, shoving the three dollars into the tip jar. "See you around."
Cas gapes as Dean walks away. He watches him until he leaves the store, turning right on the way out. Dean doesn't look back.
It's a few moments before he can move again, tearing his eyes from the window. He sits heavily on the stool behind the counter, glancing up to check the time. 12:13pm. He's run thirteen minutes into his lunch break.
He slides both hands into his hair, groaning loudly and leaning his head forwards onto the counter. He knows he'll be a mess until Dean visits again. Now he just has to wait.