A/N - So this is literally my first Destiel story. It's also my first attempt at writing a chapter fic. And the first fic I've written in well over 5 years. With that being said, This is based very loosely on an AU prompt I found on tumblr about a flower shop and a tattoo parlor that are right next door to each other. Just seemed fun.

Also note the number at the end is indeed the number Misha gave out during GISHWHES. I'm sure it goes without saying, but do not harass Misha about fanfiction. lol If the number is still even active. I honestly don't know.

Anyways, hopefully it's not too terrible. I know I'm not the most spectacular writer out there. But practice makes perfect right? So Enjoy! Let me know what you think.

"So get this..."

Three little words and Dean was gone. There is literally nothing on God's good earth that could make whatever it is that Sam was about to say interesting. They are, after all, working in a flower shop. A flower shop! Dean Winchester in a flower shop. The man wondered vaguely what deities he'd pissed off to end up here. Oh right, it wasn't a deity. It was Jessica Moore. His Sasquatch brother's better half.

Dean had spent most of his life in Kansas, taking the brunt of John Winchesters slander and criticism if it meant keeping the older man's ire away from Sammy. John had never been happy with Sam's choice to head off to Stanford. Maybe he felt abandoned or unloved. Dean wasn't entirely sure of the reasoning behind his fathers disapproval, but he had been proud. His little brother wanted to get out. He wanted to make something of himself. He wanted to be a lawyer and Dean wasn't about to stop him. It was all he'd ever wanted for his brother: to be better than himself and their father. Dean may not have had it in him to leave. He had always felt tied to his family and their roots, and therefore, tied to his father; to Kansas. But just the same, he was tied to Sam. So he worked multiple jobs, odd jobs, anything really, using what little he had left to help push Sam through college. At least one of them could make something of the Winchester name.

When the accident happened. Dean couldn't say he was really shocked. His father had always had a drinking problem. After the death of their mother. He just hadn't fully recovered. But without his father, what was left to keep him in Kansas anymore? Without his father to look after, his responsibilities turned to Sam. He packed what little he had and headed to California. He could do odd jobs there just as well as in Kansas. And once again be close to his family. At least, that had been his plan.

After about a month of no luck in the job department, and Jess' increasing exasperation at Dean for basically living on their couch. He agreed to help out at her family's floral shop. And by 'agreed' he means surviving the wrath of a straightening iron (it was still plugged in too! Who does that?) And threats of being kicked out onto the streets. Sam quickly agreed with her. Dean doesn't blame him. Jess is a force to be reckoned with. And straightening irons hurt like hell.

So here he was, currently involved in longing stares out the shop's large front windows, to the small bakery across the street. They had pie. He could go for some pie right about now. He was mentally reciting different flavors of pie when a loud crack snapped him back to his sad and pitiful reality. Sam was pointing to the binder that he'd slapped on the counter -their log book- and a bitch face that clearly said 'Stop-ignoring-me-and-thinking-about-pie-you-dick'.

Dean gave his brother a toothy grin. "I'm sorry Sammy, I didn't catch that."

"Please, Dean. You're going to be the only one here. We're going out tonight remember? Jess already has the arrangements made so you just have to make sure they get to the customer." Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "This is a huge order. Fifteen different floral arrangements were made..."

"Who needs fifteen bouquets?"

"They're centerpieces, Dean. They go on tables. The Novak's are famous for their parties. Naomi has always come to us for her arrangements."

Dean waved his hand dismissively. "Right, got it. Rich bitches need their flowers."

Oh look, the bitch face was back. "Just make sure they get them. And please don't make us lose this customer. I think her son is going to come pick them up...Charles or something."

Dean just rolled his eyes and nodded, waving his brother off again. He didn't care about the Novak's, their socialite parties, or money. But he knows how to do his job. "I got this Sammy. Don't you worry your lusciously lustrous locks. Have fun on your date."

Sam just groaned and made for the door. "You're such a jerk..."

"Don't forget to use a condom, bitch!"

Dean just smirked at Sam's affronted look and middle finger.

9:50pm. The store closed at 10:00 and that Novak guy still hadn't shown up. Dean finished locking up the office and headed towards the doors. It wasn't his fault the guy never showed up. Jess was not going to be pleased. And heaven knows he'll probably get the blame somehow. Just his luck that this would happen while they left the store to him.

9:55pm. Dean stared at the clock. It was slow wasn't it? Five minutes slow. It was definitely 10:00 now. Right? He could lock up. After all, who is going to come get flowers at 5 till closing?

The thought of Jess' wrath was enough for him to hold out till actual closing time though. Which was...NOW.

Dean all but ran the rest of the way to the door. Finally this awful day was over.

His hand was on the lock. Probably, honestly, in the middle turning said lock when the whole thing was yanked from his hand as the door opened. Something solid crashed into him and he had barely enough time to catch his balance and catch whatever just about plowed him over (it was a person he was assuming).

The first thing he noticed was blue. A very ethereal blue. Like lightening and ice: beautiful, yet fierce. He could drown in that color and that would be perfectly okay with him. The next thing he became aware of was that the blue was the color of this persons eyes. The man that he was currently holding in a very elegant dip: one arm wrapped around the strangers waist, the other wrapped around his shoulders keeping him balanced horizontally.

"Talk about sweeping someone off their feet..." Blue-Eyes winked. He fucking winked and Dean had half a mind to just drop the little shit where they were. Right down on the cold tiled floor. He quickly wrenched them both up into a standing position, as he fought down the blush that was surely spreading down his neck. The man spoke again in a voice, deep and gravely, that alone elicited enough erotic material for Dean to get off to for the next month. "... Well, I'm smitten."

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed at the man. "Not interested. And we're closed." He smiled unsympathetically at the man who seemed completely unfazed by this news.

"I'm here to pick up an order."

Dean groaned inwardly. Half of him relieved that the order was going to be picked up. Half of him really uncomfortable by the way Blue-Eyes was staring at him. A little too wantonly for his taste, which by the way did not include 6ft of lean muscle, messy, dark sex-hair, full pink lips and beautiful, piercing blue eyes. Fuck, he was gorgeous. Fuck his lack of sex life. If Dean was going to indulge in his occasional fling with a man, no matter how good-looking he was, it was definitely not going to be this sleazy piece of...

"As much as I love the fact that you've undressed me with you're eyes, now really isn't the time...I'm running late."

Dean blanched, "I didn't...I'm not..."

Oh shit! There is a table there, and he just backed into it. The florist just barely managed to grab the vase full of delicately arranged white dahlias, coral peonies, and versilia roses, before it hit the floor. He placed the vase back on the stand quickly before turning and rushing from the room before he could register the mans expression. He was sure it was somewhere along the lines of amused.

He was not about to let this man get to him. So what if he's breathtaking? Dean can appreciate an attractive man when he sees one. It doesn't change that his personality is unnerving and his ability to make Dean fluster is more than irritating. Composing himself, he grabbed the large box of table bouquets.

Back out in the shop, Blue-Eyes was leaning over the counter, stare focused intently on a catalog of floral arrangements. Dean's eye caught a glittering piece of metal pressed between plump lips. Sweet Jesus. He has a tongue piercing. Life had definitely not prepared Dean for handsome strangers with tongue piercings. Hello mental gutter, it's been a while.

"I want one of these." He was pointing at the catalog. Dean set the box down and leaned over looking at the picture. It was an Orange Asiatic Lily. Raising a brow, Dean nodded his head over to a pair of glass doors where an assortment of lilies, roses and carnations were kept safe.

The man walked over, pulling just one delicate flower from the display.

Clearing his throat, Dean rung up the order. "Novak...Charles? Chuck? I can't read Sammy's handwriting." He shrugged looking up at the man who was still inspecting the singular flower. "Really? Just going to buy one?"

Those intense blue eyes focused on him again. He smiled. Perfectly pearly white teeth shining in the florescent lights of the store. "Castiel. And yes."

"Casti...what the hell kind of name is that?" Dean bit his tongue as soon as the words left his mouth. Don't piss of the customers, Dean. Don't fuck this up, Dean. Jess with bludgeon you with an iron, Dean.

Castiel seemed basically unfazed. In fact, he looked downright amused. "Castiel, the Angel of Thursday. I was born on a Thursday. My brother was Wednesday. If I'd pushed out first I'd have been Jimmy."

Dean was confused. What? He guessed he looked confused too, as Castiel took it upon himself to continue. "My Twin. Jimmy is 30 minutes older than me, he came into this world on Wednesday. I held out till Thursday. " The blue eyed man shrugged, handing his credit card over to Dean. "Apparently I wanted the Angels name that badly."

Dean just kind of gaped at the man. "O-okay." He hadn't asked for his life story, geez.

Wait... "You're a twin?" Dean's voice hitched a little higher than it probably should have. He tried desperately to get the card through the reader as fast as he could. Tapping the pen on the counter as he waited for the machine to read the card. Trying desperately not to think about this man having a twin, and every dirty fantasy his mind could muster up with this new information.

"You're thinking about fucking us both at the same time now, aren't you?" Whoops! There goes the pen across the room. They both just stared in the direction the pen had been accidentally launched. Castiel looking downright amused. Dean, well he could imagine his face probably boarded horrified. Horrified at having been read so easily.

Dean snorted indignantly. "Do you ever think about the shit that comes out of your mouth?"

Castiel was quick though, "Do you think about the things I can fit in my mouth?"

Luckily Dean had a tight grip on the new pen he'd acquired this time. He rolled his eyes slamming the receipt for Castiel to sign and the pen on the counter in front of the dark haired man and smiled. "You can stop, I've already told you I'm not interested."

Castiel just shrugged and took the pen scribbling his signature on the small piece of paper. "Is it because I'm a man and you still haven't realized your blatant homosexuality? Or is it the tattoos?"

Dean raised a brow. "Tattoos?"

Castiel smirked and rolled his sleeves up. Intricate art wove around his arms in a beautiful collage of flames and flowers. An angel and a pendulum clock face. Dean had to admit it was quite beautiful. "It's not the tattoos then." Castiel smirked.

Dean rolled his eyes looking up from the other mans arm to his face. His face which was way too close for Deans liking. Castiel was practically leaning over the counter. There was barely a couple inches between them. "Dude, personal space."

Chuckling Castiel grabbed the box and pulled away from Dean making for the door. "Unrealized homosexuality it is then. "

Dean followed him smirking. "I'm perfectly aware of my bisexuality if you must know. I'm really just not interested. Kindly get the fuck out of my store."

Castiel just smiled widely at him, as if absolutely thrilled by this news, as he taller shoved him out the door. "I'll see you around."

Dean just rolled his eyes and locked the door. He finished closing up, putting supplies away and storing the flowers as directed so they didn't wilt through the night. He headed back to the counter to grab the log book when he noticed the lily that Castiel had bought still sitting on the counter, the receipt wrapped around the stem. He picked it up, planning on putting it back. If Castiel came back for it at later date he could just get another. The receipt fell open and he took note that there was writing on it. He picked it up and brought it closer. He read through it three times before he realized it was meant for him. The flower had been bought for him! And the note simply read:

Goodnight, Dean.

Castiel - 323-790-4967