It was five months now, frequenting the same supermarket at the corner of West and Main Streets in a small town in Baltimore.

Drained from a round of classes throughout the day, because Wednesdays were packed to capacity, Dean would grab a red plastic basket by the door and stroll in. Tapping idly on his phone, checking emails and WhatsApp messages, he headed to the magazine rack first to pick up the latest copy of Busty Babes. All the while, his eyes would also be darting around like high beams poking through the night, trying to locate his ray of sunshine.

Dean was supposed to be frustrated at that point, just a fourth year on the verge of leaping rather than taking it easy. But he understood the benefits of stalking out a suitable prey, learning the target's habits and trying to develop some kind of plan. And asking someone out wasn't supposed to be so damn hard. He had done it so many times before, always managing to get the girl after one sucky pickup line.

This time though, there was no chick but a Floor Supervisor who owned the most amazing pools of blue eyes, perfectly toned biceps that stretched the arms of t-shirts, a glorious ass and thighs that were sinfully concealed from any human's prying eyes. And why on earth was he so special enough to force a twenty-three year old to question his sexuality? Maybe it was the buildup of observations every Wednesday, the small details that stood out and the fact that every single time Dean rounded a corner and spied the older man, he bolted the other way.

He first realized his severe attraction during a casual stroll in the supermarket back in May. The kind of late night shopping that only consisted of his desperate need of a six pack, Menthols and a grab and go deli sandwich. Coupled with some painkillers to kick away the hangover in the morning, Dean was just deciding to flirt with the petite blonde handing out samples of Nature Valley bars by the magazine rack when he distinctly heard a low rumble of a man's voice and then the most beautiful string of laughter.

Maybe he shouldn't have spun around in that moment. Maybe he should have kept on pushing Adele for her number, stuffing his pockets with those health bars and following up with a direct path towards his Impala. But no. The laugh was like music, and after latching his eyes onto the handsome employee chatting up a cashier, Dean's knees weakened and he melted from what his brother would later refer to as love at first sight.

He was never attracted to another man before in his entire life. Well, that would be a downright lie, considering his absolute crush on Ryan Reynolds. But this time, this was something stronger, something that he guiltily played with in order to derive some kind of satisfaction in the middle of the week. He would linger around corners, avoid whichever lane the other man was packing, and just because he felt adventurous, Dean would wear a little extra cologne.

Tonight of all nights though, he managed to brave all odds by taking the first step towards making himself seen by the older man. Not that it was hard to accomplish. With the empty lanes at minutes to seven in the night, there was no chance of obstacles getting in the way except that he deliberately chose to place an abundance of distance between them. This time though, Dean decided that it was time to present himself for inspection, to get a name at least and so, after identifying that his object of lust was hanging in the pet lane, he sucked it up and rounded the corner.

At first, the only thing he was conscious of, was his heart hammering away inside his chest as if trying to leap out. Even Castiel's ruffled dark hair that appeared more glorious under the wide lights of the supermarket couldn't dull the weakened disposition. Dean was flopping around like a fish out of water even as he neared five feet of floor space between him and the man who was stooping low and packing bags of Purina cat food onto the shelf.

What an ass.

He never really checked out another man's rear before, but the merchandise in those black jeans was so distracting, that he almost bumped into a black rack stocked with squeaky toys. Oh, how the shame would have turned him a dark shade of red if he caused a scene on their first meeting. Dean would have bolted again, this time, switching his midweek shopping to Dusty's around the corner where the prices were jacked up way more than he could afford. But no such thing happened, in fact, the entire world seemed to be placed on mute as Dean turned to face a shelf of tinned cat food and he carefully studied the colorful labels.

Who the hell was he fooling? He didn't own a pet of any kind. Maybe the rats that gathered by the dumpster in the alleyway three floors down below his dorm window. The ones who feasted on his leftovers that he tossed every single morning on his way to classes in greasy fast food paper bags. But a cat wasn't sitting in his room waiting for him, and he never liked them except for the talking Chinese Siamese one from the animated cartoon.

Sam would rate his brother's behavior as an A grade loser if he even caught a whiff of the hopeless situation unfolding. For a full minute, Dean scanned the shelves whilst diverting his attention to the owner of the finest ass and he hoped, really hoped that he wasn't going to make a fool of himself any time soon.

Just when he felt like the stars would never be aligned to satisfy his school girl crush, their eyes met for the first time. It felt very close to the times when he would hang by the beach with Sam during sunsets in Florida. The same feeling of the waves rolling over his toes. That's what the gaze felt like, lasting for a few seconds between them and never quite growing uncomfortable. Almost like they were searching for something maybe, trying to grasp the concept of a no homo moment which was a complete gay moment on Dean's side but perhaps a mundane occurrence on the older man's part.

"Do you…require any assistance?" from the moment he rose up, his rectangular white badge revealed a name that was immediately consumed by Dean.

Castiel Novak

Floor Supervisor

You could supervise my floors any time you want, you delectable hunk of a man.

Dean cleared his throat, "not really. I was just…" he glanced back at the shelf and frowned, "wondering if they were in stock again. Came two days ago and couldn't find the Mixed Grill."

"Strange," Castiel's forehead creased as he rose up and studied the small towers of tins before them. "We always have those in stock. Maybe you arrived just when the last one was out for the week…perhaps," as he drew closer, Dean held his breath and stiffened, "they were merely hiding from you. They tend to do that sometimes." HIs cologne. His goddamn cologne was light and refreshing and beautiful.

"Yeah?" Grinning like an absolute fool, Dean could literally feel his cheeks grow warmer and understood that he was possibly two full minutes away from appearing like a blushing asshole. "Well, thanks to you for keeping those delinquents in order."

Standing up straight, hands hanging down his sides, the older man studied green eyes with a beautiful smile. "I'm beginning to feel like I'm a Prison Officer. My own little world of inmates right here in a supermarket. How many do you need?"

Blue eyes, like pools of ocean that he could dip his toes into and drown inside… "Huh?" Dean blinked and tried to clear his thoughts.

"Tins," Castiel tried with a small smile and hands planted on his hips.

The manner in which he stood was a little too distracting because for some odd reason, attention was drawn to whatever was below his belt and from the moment Dean realized that he was invading, he stiffly turned to the shelf.

"One should do." Plucking a tin away, he rested it into his basket and wondered which cat he would be feeding. Possibly one in the alleyway, a feral stray that would sniff the fancy wet food and stride away in disgust. "And now there's an empty space on the shelf. Dammit. The lane was looking so perfect before I ruined it."

The same laugh came afterwards, the very one that weakened Dean's knees the first time, a low rumble that was attached to sparkling eyes. "You are so funny. You know, it is actually my job to replenish what was bought. Please don't feel like you're committing a crime of any kind." And just like that, Castiel returned to the trolley stacked with four boxes of products, and he resumed packing.

Of course, Dean was left to stare, wondering many things at the same time. Did he say something wrong? Had he fucked up already? A woman would have asked for his number by then, possibly sniffed him and identified what time she got off from work. But who was he kidding? Castiel was possibly the straightest guy to ever exist in town, and judging from his neat attire and good humor, he probably attended church every Sunday and had a girlfriend with a fancy name like Hanna or Darla.

No matter how attractive Dean thought he was, he could never be appealing to someone like Castiel. He could never quite cut it, readily accomplishing what he thought would have been a little too easy like always. Instead, he began to walk away with his tail between his legs, and a dull ache inside his chest, feeling rather disappointed that he couldn't even make the first move like he always did. He should have asked for his number, come right out and do it. Or maybe, he should have prolonged the conversation, being the skilful conversationalist he always was.

But no, he turned the corner and headed towards the refrigerator, knowing that he would consume the entire six pack that night in the hopes of trying to forget his ridiculous crush on someone who wouldn't even consider him as anything other than a customer.

Just as he was heading to the cashier though, the soft patter of shoes sounded behind him and before he could turn around, his shoulder brushed with a kind of warmth that was too much too ignore.

"I was wondering," Castiel came to stand in front of Dean and his white shirt was without a crease that maybe the actual sight of such a perfect man was a sin, "do you already have a Loyalty Card?"

"I…no." Frowning, the younger man transferred the basket to his right hand and felt like he was on the verge of tumbling off a cliff from the heaviness of his nerves weighing down on him. "What's that now?"

"It's a very special card that rewards you overtime. As you shop, points are gained on your account and every Thursday, for example, we offer discounts on certain items that carry a yellow tag," blue orbs were so huge, it wasn't supposed to be possible to contain so much color inside someone's pair of eyes. "Very easy to sign up for one. Do you have any form of identification on you?"

In fact, he did, and as he reached into his brown leather jacket for his wallet, Dean trailed after the spritely man who was determined to increase the pool of registered card holders on such a boring night in the week. By the time they were at the Customer Service desk, Castiel was far too energized to seem normal at all. He appeared to be fueled by an inner desire to accomplish something that was curious to Dean and it couldn't just be the obvious. It had to be something else.

But he was terribly disappointed after the card was handed over and the two of them parted without another word. The only conversation they entertained during the process was the transfer of information onto a form; his telephone number, address and email. Coupled with the pen being handed over, no eye contact was made and even as Dean signed the damn form, he wasn't even considered as Castiel reached for the card behind the desk and handed it over to him with a smile that spoke volumes of practiced delightful customer service.

Two weeks later, and completely determined to run himself into the older man with more fervor than before, Dean returned to Chand's Supermarket and spared no haste in surveying the lanes.

Anyone would have thought that spending the last two weeks distracting himself from his school girl crush would have sufficed as enough to deter him from trying again. But he wasn't the kind to give up on something, especially when he felt like he deserved the attention, or at least, he shouldn't be turned down even if he asked. And because he was so driven to prove a point to no one at all but himself, he spent half an hour waiting on Castiel to show up in one of the lanes and when he didn't, Dean did the most unexpected thing.

"I'm looking for the Floor Supervisor," he inquired after spotting another employee, this one rather much less spritely and awfully dead inside. With a basket filled with a six pack, Menthols and Skittles for good measure, Dean tried to look as casual as possible instead of fangirling over someone who couldn't care less about him. "Mister uh…Novak."

"Think he's on a break," and waltzing off just like that, dragging her feet in the process, the lane attendant disappeared around a corner.

"So much for Customer Service around here," Dean mumbled to himself, ready to accept defeat because she obviously proved to him that humans didn't give a shit about other humans. And why was he special again? Because of his good looks?

Looks and no game, Benny his buddy from college would say. All it takes is one leap, brother. But you're so accustomed to standing back and letting them come to you.

"There's a special on Skittles tonight," came that seductive gravelly voice from behind, immediately weakening Dean's composure. He turned around to face the smiling likes of the man he was desperately searching for after a two weeks drought. "Three for the price of two. And if you're into salted peanuts, we have a fifty percent discount on Planters. A perfect combination with your beer."

"Hi," Dean tried with a smile that dissipated his worries, "damn, you're well-versed, aren't you?"

Castiel offered a small shrug and a dull blush covered his neck. "It's my job. Just as it was my job to fill the empty space in the shelf that you created."

He remembers me. Dean's heart leapt a little and did a happy dance. "Might go with the peanuts. The Skittles, not so much. It's kind of my go to when I'm burning the midnight oil whilst studying. But I can lay off on the sugar for now."

"By all means, you do that. But remember that a hefty consumption of peanuts may heighten your cholesterol level."

"Is life ever easy?"

"I think that's what makes the whole experience quite enjoyable. Don't you agree?"

They inched to the corner of the lane as another customer pushed past their trolley and a toddler tried to grab at the boxes of cereals. And all the while, Dean realized that Castiel somehow could not peel his eyes away from him. It was different than before. The last time, all the older man offered was a mundane behavior towards another customer. But now he seemed a little more interested in their conversation, almost as if he wanted to talk, rather than drifting away.

"I was actually asking for you a little while ago," Dean provided as butterflies fluttered around in his chest from the undivided attention he was receiving. "Someone said you were on a break."

"I was taking a fifteen. Why were you asking for me?" Castiel smiled despite his narrowed eyes and arms folded, he appeared very much comfortable with someone who must have been a complete stranger.

"The card," Dean scratched the back of his neck and felt ridiculous. "Was wondering if I get a discount every time I shop or I have to build up points or something."

The older man plucked a box of Cocoa Pebbles from the shelf and studied the puzzle behind it. "It's simple really. All you have to do is continuously use it in order to build your tier status. You're a Newbie at the moment. But overtime, you will transfer to Bronze which gifts you three percent off your receipt. Silver comes next then Gold of course rests on larger quantities of purchase done frequently. And so on, and so on."

"So basically, I'm going to be stuck at bronze since I just come in here to buy the usual three items," Dean studied Castiel's easily happy countenance and wondered if the man was always so good humored.

Did he get angry? Was there a wife who tortured his nerves sometimes? Did he have any kids? There wasn't a wedding band but then some men chose not to wear theirs for various reasons.

"You'll be fine," Castiel returned the box onto the shelf and scrutinized the price tags just to ensure that they was lined up with the correct product.

Ask him.

Dean fumbled around inside his head with the voices bouncing back and forth. The questions. The absence of courage and the abundance of nervousness.

"Seems like you work until closing time here, huh?"

Castiel was so easily fitted in his own comfortable bubble that he hummed whilst nodding slowly, and after crossing the aisle, he pulled two cans of soup forward to fill a small gap on the shelf. "I actually am so dedicated to my job that I work twelve hours, six days a week."

"Damn, that's…" Dean admired the passion and realized that he had drifted closer to the older man as if gravitating towards some kind of divine being. "That's something. I mean, you'd have to have a pretty understandable wife or girlfriend to pull that off."

He did it. Bingo. Five stars at least with the additional confetti.

Chuckling, Castiel continued to neaten the cans on the shelf and it appeared as if he was deliberately trying to avoid the two of them facing each other. "I suppose that's so. But since I don't have either one of those, then I'm safe from coming to a compromise."

"Come on," Dean's chest was exploding by then with relief as he stayed where he was, a mere two feet away, "you mean to tell me that a guy with your looks, you have no attachment of any kind? That's got to be by choice because if it ain't, then I'm more curious to know why."

"By choice. I'm very career driven."

"You've got to throw a little romance in there somewhere…"

Castiel sighed, withdrew his hand from between the cans and his fingers trembled slightly whilst he adjusted two orange price tags. The tremor didn't go unnoticed by Dean, who latched onto the occurrence and studied it with fascination and worry at the same time.

A bad experience. A relationship that went sour too fast and possibly wounded with a sharp bite that drew blood. That much he could decipher from the reaction after the mention of romance. Hopefully it wasn't a love affair that ended in death, because those were equally worse and took a long time to recover from. And if Castiel was suffering from heartbreak, then the game of flirtation would need to be adapted and altered.

"Sorry if I'm being a dick by poking around where I'm not supposed to," Dean said softly, realizing that he was probably fucking up everything already. "But it's just that…" don't freeze up, come on. Keep going and give it your all. Only one chance to fuck it up. Go big or go home. "…I've been coming in here a long time now feeling like one of those ridiculous secret admirers who can't stop themselves. I mean, you…" when Castiel stopped and turned to stare at him, Dean really wanted to run. His eyes widened a bit as he swallowed. "You're gorgeous, man. At least to me, you are."

For a long time, the older man simply studied green orbs with a wild fascination, almost as if he was on the precipice of something mysterious. All of the wheels were turning inside of his mind. His chest heaved for a few seconds and then he blinked a few times too many before turning paler.

"I apologize," Castiel said so suddenly, stepping away from the shelf and clearing his throat, "but, ah, I really should…I should…get back to work."

"Yeah," Dean's voice cracked under the weight of absolute disappointment when his stare trailed after the departing figure of a man who was determined to leave his company. "You do that. Fuck." He felt so burdened by shame that he leant onto the shelf and closed his eyes, fighting to take measured breaths.