A/N: So chapter one and this chapter here were originally together, but uploading sucks. That is why I'm posting this so soon! You can see why I wanted this to be in the first chapter once you read it.
In this episode: Dean becomes more than just a pretty face.
Chapter Two
The next several days were much the same. Castiel would hurry to return from lunch, so he'd be there when Dean came with mail. Each time, it would be a letter from Gabriel detailing what he ate for dinner last night or how he wants to redecorate his kitchen or something distinctly unimportant, with horribly drawn doodles in the margins. Nothing hand-delivery worthy.
Every day, he learned more and more about Dean. He'd just ask one simple question, and answer one in return.
Thursday
"Where did you go to college?" Castiel asked quietly. Fairly professional question, right?
Dean looked down nervously. "Just Lawrence Community College, nothing special." Castiel's face remained smooth, and Dean looked up again. "You?"
"Amherst, in Massachusetts," Castiel nodded. Small school, but prestigious. Then, "Masters at Dartmouth."
Dean whistled low. "So you're a genius," he smiled.
"Not always," Castiel allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch upwards. "Thank you, Dean."
Friday
"Do you have any siblings?"
Dean's smile was bigger than Castiel had ever seen. "Oh yeah, I have a baby brother, Sam. He's real smart, like you. Goes to Stanford and everything. He's freakishly tall, which is why some people call him a moose, but I can still take 'im." His hands began to gesture. "He's a little quiet sometimes, but I swear, the kid's like a people magnet. He could charm a cat into water."
Dean went on about his brother, and a warm feeling spread through Castiel's chest. The love in his eyes was evident, and Gabe's letter was left on the table, forgotten.
Dean's eyes darted to the clock. "Oh shit, I mean sorry, I didn't know I was rambling. I'll just go," Dean looked flustered, and Castiel couldn't hold back a smile.
"I have time," he said calmly, gesturing for Dean to come back. "I enjoy hearing about your brother."
"Well," Dean put his hands on his slim hips, just so he could do something with them. "Your turn."
"I have three brothers and one sister," Castiel said. It was a big family, no denying that.
"Wow," Dean breathed. "What's that like?"
Castiel thought for a minute. "There's never a dull moment," he settled on. "Do you know Gabriel Novak? The head of Human Relations?" Dean nodded. "He's my elder brother by four years."
Dean pressed his lips together, as if suppressing a grin. Castiel took the bait. "He's quite a character, isn't he?"
A laugh bubbled up from Dean's throat, and it was like the sound of bells. "You could say that! How does he keep that big bowl of candy in his office full? He offers me a lollipop every time I go in there."
"To say he has a sweet tooth is an understatement," Castiel agreed. "And it's not a bowl, it's a small fish tank."
Dean shook his head. "That's wild."
"As I said," Castiel quirked an eyebrow. "Never a dull moment."
When Dean's chuckling stopped, he looked up at Castiel, who was already staring. He had never seen Dean so relaxed. He had never heard Dean laugh. His eyes were green and bright, and the tiny laugh lines on his skin smoothed out until they were just looking at each other.
In an ideal circumstance, that would be the moment that Castiel would rise from his chair and grasp Dean's shirt to haul him over the table and claim his lips. Dean seemed to hear that internal statement, because his tongue darted out to wet said lips.
"Thank you, Dean," Castiel murmured, embarrassingly lower than usual, and he saw Dean distinctly shiver at this.
"No problem," Dean cleared his throat and hurried out of Castiel's office.
Saturday
Castiel was bored as fuck. He was working from home and had things to do, but he could barely work up the motivation to get something done. He instead thought of Dean, and how much he missed seeing him every day, even if it he had only really known him a week. Less than a week.
Friday's two minute talk was eye-opening, to say the least. Dean was no longer just the fuckhot young man from the mail room, he was now a loving brother, which made him even more beautiful.
It hadn't even been a week and he was starting to fear how intense his thoughts were becoming. He knew that he should be sending Dean away without their little questions. He shouldn't be getting to know Dean as he brought him Gabriel's stupid mail. He should have a talk with Gabriel.
"I wanted to talk to you, not go to a bar," Castiel grumbled that evening as his brother pushed him through the doors to the Roadhouse.
"We can talk while we drink, bro," Gabriel slid onto a bar seat and Castiel reluctantly followed.
"What can I get you two?" a petite blonde waitress smiled at them genuinely.
"I'd like a Mudslide, Madam," Gabriel slung his arm around Castiel. "And for the baby bro-"
"Just a whiskey, please," he asked her.
"A whiskey and a heart attack in a cup, coming up," the bartender grinned, and Castiel nodded at her.
"I need to talk to you about your letters," Castiel began quietly, and a huge smirk broke out on his brother's face.
"You want to talk about Dean," Gabe sang. "Have you boned him yet?"
Castiel looked around with wide eyes. "No Gabriel, Jesus. Not so loud."
Gabriel pouted. "Why the hell not? I sent him to you wrapped in a bow. He's totally into you, and I think you need a little Winchester in your life."
They shut up a moment as their drinks were set in front of them, and Castiel immediately took a huge gulp of whiskey. "Do you know how old he is, Gabriel? He's not even twenty-four. He's eleven years younger than I am."
Gabriel snorted. "He's a big boy, he can make his own choices," the shorter man sucked up some of the chocolatey drink through a straw. "Plus, it doesn't matter what the age difference is! It's not like you're an old man. Maybe you could teach him a few things." He wiggled his eyebrows.
Castiel closed his eyes and tried to count to ten, but Gabriel's words stuck in his head. Maybe you could teach him a few things. Castiel had a very difficult time pushing the images out of his head... Dean on his knees, Castiel instructing him through his first blowjob. Dean on his bed, learning how it felt to have his own fingers fucking him open. Dean, pliant and obedient, waiting to-
No, god dammit. Castiel scrubbed his hands over his eyes and took another gulp of whiskey. Dean was straight probably. Yes, he seemed to enjoy Castiel's voice, but maybe the shivers were out of discomfort, or maybe the room was just cold. He didn't know. Anything to get those images to go away.
"He's an employee," Castiel continued, as if his pants hadn't become five times tighter in the past few minutes. "I cannot think of an employee in that way."
"He's in the mail room, Cassie!" Gabriel set his drink down indignantly. "He asks about you, you know," his voice became softer.
Castiel raised an eyebrow. "I'm serious," Gabriel spread his hands. "That's the whole reason I sent him to you in the first place. I found him looking at your picture in that hallway on the third floor two weeks ago, and he asked about you."
Two weeks ago. That was before Castiel had even seen Dean. The younger Novak said nothing, instead tracing the rim of his drink with his finger. So Dean had asked about him, so what? He was the CEO of the company Dean worked for. Dean was allowed to ask about his boss, that wasn't out of the ordinary.
There was a murmur of voices from the entrance to the kitchen. Their waitress had her apron in her hand and was speaking to a shadowy figure in the doorframe. To Castiel's delight and mortification, Dean Winchester stepped through the door with an apron of his own in his hand.
"Fuck," Castiel murmured.
"Oh, Cassie, I rarely hear you swear. Does Dean have competition now?" The older Novak craned his head to see who Castiel was staring at. And it was Dean. "And the plot thickens," he murmured.
Castiel was frozen, emotions whirling around in his head. They should leave. They should leave immediately so that Castiel wouldn't have to find out what mixing Dean and alcohol would result in. But they should stay... Castiel had spent a whole twenty-four hours without seeing him at all, and he wouldn't see him Sunday either.
His eyes swept over Dean. He was out of his professional clothes and instead in well-worn jeans that hung perfectly on his hips and a tight black t-shirt that said "Roadhouse Bar and Grille" on the back. His hair was messy now, and Jesus Christ was he mouth-watering.
Then Dean's eyes clashed with Castiel's, and he lit up like a Christmas tree. "Hey, Mr. Novak!" his lopsided smile was nearly blinding. He tied the apron around his waist and nodded at Gabriel. "Mr. Novak."
"Dean, my boy!" Gabriel grinned devilishly. "I see you have an apron there."
Dean glanced down quickly. "Yeah, I work here on the weekends," he cleared his throat.
Without his permission, words slipped out of Castiel's mouth. "Does the mail room not offer you adequate pay?" he asked, more concerned than he should be.
"No, nothing like that," Dean was quick to shake his head. "I'm just paying for my brother's tuition, and it's kind of expensive."
"Stanford is one of the best schools in the nation," Castiel nodded. "It makes sense that it would be expensive."
Gabriel raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"So," Dean cleared his throat, changing the subject. "What are y'all drinking?" His slight southern accent came out, and Castiel warmed.
"Mudslide for myself and whiskey for the bro," Gabe gestured to their nearly-drained drinks.
Dean chuckled, removing the dirty glasses. "Jo calls those heart attacks in a cup."
Jo must have been the blonde that left. "I know," Gabriel grinned. "She's pretty, isn't she, Dean?" he glanced at Castiel, who glared daggers.
Dean stilled for a moment. "Yeah, she is, but you might want to steer clear of her. She's like my little sister." Castiel held back a sigh of relief.
"What, am I too old for her?" Castiel stiffened again. Dammit, Gabriel.
Dean glanced at Castiel before pouring more whiskey. "'Course not," he set the glass in front of Castiel with another little glance. "She'd just eat you alive." He set another mudslide in front of Gabriel. "I'm doing you a favor here."
Gabriel laughed, and a little tingle went through Castiel. Was Dean implying that he thought age differences meant nothing in relationships? Or only when it was a matter of just sex? Or was he just trying to scare Gabriel off? He was overthinking every word that came out of that perfect mouth.
Another patron motioned to Dean from the other side of the bar, and Dean moved away with an apologetic smile.
"We need to leave," Castiel muttered as soon as Dean was gone.
"Whoa, whoa, I thought you liked him!" Gabriel said, too loudly for Castiel's taste.
Castiel ignored that. "I shouldn't be drinking around... an employee," he finished lamely.
Gabe snorted, about to make an obscene and inappropriate remark, no doubt. "Gabriel, please," Castiel interrupted, putting on his serious face. "I need to be alone. I need to get ready for the conference next weekend so I can leave before Michael and Dad..." He didn't finish the sentence.
Gabriel immediately sobered up. "Calm down, Cassie, it's gonna be fine. Let's go." Gabriel threw some bills onto the bar and the Novaks crossed the room towards the door. Castiel threw on his trench coat and looked back, meeting Dean's searching gaze.
Castiel could only nod at Dean as a means of goodbye. He still looked confused as the blue-eyed man stepped resolutely out the doorway and into the waiting cab.
A/N: Reviews are always appreciated!
