"Sam, if you start going on about the smell of old records again, I'm going to punch you in the fucking face. Seriously, have some control of yourself. Goddam giant hipster." Dean muttered the last part under his breath as he took the change from the vendor selling hot dogs, pretzels, and sodas and shoved it into his jeans pocket before grabbing the cup from the cart in the hand the wasn't holding a paper wrapped pretzel.
"You're one to talk. You only listen to freaking cassette tapes from 30 years ago." Sam tugged the beanie down self-consciously before tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The afternoon was crisp and clear, carrying the first scents and smells of autumn. The heavy thud of their boots was muffled by the sound of the busy downtown area and the customers perusing the market stalls.
"Dude, every band you listen to has weird facial hair and fedoras." Dean was quiet for a moment, pausing to take a giant bite of the pretzel. After slurping from the straw of his paper cup, he dives right back in. "And ukuleles. Why the fuck are all these bands including ukuleles? Whatever happened to guitars and drums and a keyboard. That's awesome music."
Sam rolled his eyes and headed towards the honey vendor, "Shut up, Dean. Why don't you start yelling at neighborhood kids to get off your lawn. You sound like a grandpa. "
Dean stood in the center of the path between the two rows of before stalls and stuffed more pretzel in his mouth. He watched Sam walk over and start talking animatedly with Castiel. Stupid, attractive, probably commune escapee Castiel; who had driven Dean insane all summer while he puttered around his honey stall, giving straws of honey to little kids who were shopping with their parents, smiling a giant grin that caused the corners of his eyes to wrinkle delectably while he talked to their parents, wore jeans that were so worn they were see through at the knees and t-shirts that clung to his chest and arms in the summer humidity, all while generally acting like Dean didn't exist the entire summer.
The market season would be over soon. Apples from local orchards were filling bushel baskets piled onto tables, pumpkins and gourds were becoming the hot commodity, and everything Gabe was selling recently was pumpkin spice flavored. Dean would know, he had gained five pounds since he started coming up with excuses to help Sam with his booth every weekend. Not that it had done Dean any good. The only thing he had done all summer was sit behind Sam's booth and sell ridiculously expensive hair shit to people while he stared moon-eyed across the way.
Sam handed Castiel some cash in exchange for a few jars of honey. Dean sucked the last of his soda through the straw and threw the pretzel paper and cup away before he walked back to Sam's booth. He had just settled back in his chair, when Gabriel popped out of the back of his catering van carrying a large covered tray.
"You should just go say hi to him." He said as he walked past, before he began humming.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, wishing he could prop his boots up on the edge of the table, but last time Sam had given him a lecture about professionalism. Dean really thought Sam should go give Castiel the professionalism speech since the guy showed up looking like he hadn't combed his hair in days and sometimes walked around barefoot.
"Duh, it's only totally obvious that you've been staring at my baby bro every time your here. I know you didn't suddenly develop a raging desire to sell hair products." Gabe slid the wrapped loaves of cinnamon bread, pumpkin bread, zucchini bread, cranberry orange bread and apple cake onto the racks behind his table. After he was done, he clapped his hands together, and turned back to Dean. "Just go say hi to him. But be prepared. Cas has no filter between his brain and his mouth."
Dean shot a glare at Gabe with a wry twist of his mouth and a quirked eyebrow, "I wonder where he got that from?"
Gabe just smirked and climbed back into the catering van.
XXXX
Later, when Gabe was busy with the early lunch rush and Sam was busy writing labels on a new box of stock he was putting out, Dean hauled himself out of his chair and nonchalantly walked across the rows to the honey booth. Castiel was sitting in the shade of his booth's awning, sprawled in a lawnchair with frayed lattice, reading a worn paperback.
Dean pursed his lips and pretended to peruse the rows of honey varieties. Every few moments he would sneak a glance at Castiel, who seemed to be either ignoring him or totally engrossed in his book. Finally, Dean cleared his throat and approached the other man. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, Castiel held up his index finger and continued to read.
After glancing around to make sure no one was watching the exchange, Dean waited in astonishment as Castiel continued to read. Eventually, the other man came to the end of the page and placed a ragged bookmark between the pages, before carefully laying it on the table.
"Can I help you?" He asked with an expectant look on his face.
Dean glanced at the book's cover quickly before responding. "Uhhhh..." He shook his head dumbly, at a loss because this is not the way he thought this conversation was going to go. "Are you reading The Princess Bride?" He finally asked.
Castiel raised his eyebrows and leaned back in the chair, causing the two front legs to hover of the ground. He crossed his arms over his chest and answered sardonically, "It would appear that way."
Dean rubbed the back of his neck, completely devoid of any of his usual flirting skills. "Isn't that a kids' book?"
Castiel narrowed his eyes. Dean tried not to get distracted by the way the bright blue of his eyes and his dark hair complemented the end of summer tan that was causing his skin to practically glow in the early wash of golden Autumn light.
"Did you have a reason for coming over here?" Castiel asked.
"I guess not?" Dean answered questioningly before turning around and walking back over to Sam's booth.
Gabriel was watching him walk back over with a smirk on his face. "What happened, Dean? Did you get shot down?"
"Fuck you, Gabe." He shot back.
"What the hell did you say to Cas anyway? He looked pissed." The smaller man asked.
"I think I insulted his book choice..." Dean answered, looking Gabe's way hopefully.
Gabe made a hissing noise through his teeth as he shook his head, "No Bueno, my friend. Cassie's pretty weird about his books."
Dean gestures helplessly with his hands and he sank back into his chair, "I don't even know what happened." He said helplessly. "It's like all of my game deserted me."
Sam snorted off to the side, still rummaging through boxes, "Maybe it's because you refer to to yourself as 'having game,' asshole."
Dean gloomily sat back in the chair and looked across to the other booth, where Cas had returned to reading his book. He looked up and caught Dean watching him and raised an unimpressed eyebrow, before slowly dampening the tip of his finger with his tongue and turning the page, all without ever breaking eye contact.
Dean may or may not have blushed.