Fair enough the carriage had been full when Castiel had gotten on. There were two seats next to each other. That would have been great if he had a girlfriend. They could have gotten on and giggle amidst the frowning strangers, him whispering things in her ear as her face went pinker and pinker...

Except, of course, he was gay and single.

Pringles had more possible S.O.s than him, they came as a packet. He was one.

Anyway, the carriage had been full when he'd gotten on and was packed when the green-eyed man had arrived and was now empty. Save for said green-eyed man.

Castiel raised his eyebrows at the man beside him. His head had fallen onto Castiel's shoulder at some point, and even though Castiel's stop was two stations away, he didn't have the heart to push the man off.

Well, he had a heart and a soul, that's what was making it hard.

He moved his head look at the man, he had spiky dark blonde hair and a vintage brown leather jacket. His feet, clad in black boots, were sprawled into the aisle as he slumped on Castiel.

For a random man on the subway, he smelt quite nice.

Strawberries and Old Spice. The classic mix.

The doors slid open, and two people got on, despite it being almost pitch-black. One was a teenage girl, who looked over at them and smiled slightly. Castiel recognised it. It was the smile his best friend Charlie had when she was looking at pictures of her OTP.

Castiel realised his lips were near the stranger's head and he moved his head quickly, trying to see if he would be able to reach the newspaper four seats down, without waking the man.

He figured he could do it, and leaned over to snag it. Almost the second he moved, the man shifted and pulled one of his arms to rest over Castiel's lap. His head was dangerously close to his hip.

Castiel froze and tried looking to the girl to help. She was staring intently at her phone, but in the reflection behind her, he could see she was only looking at her home-screen.

Bloody kids.

As the train slowed, Castiel tried desperately to get the man off him.

"Excuse me? Sir? Excuse me?" He practically yelled in the man's ear.

He was certain the girl across from him was smiling.

Finally, the man seemed to wake up.

"Wha-?"

"You fell asleep. This is Lorwick. I tried to get you up earlier but you seemed intent on being unconscious."

The man shot upright, his hair adorably sticky-uppy.

Wait!? Adorably?! Whoa, hold it on the gayness there!

"Lorwick?" Castiel pointed at the very helpful sign outside the window.

The man braced himself on the arms of the seats, but his left hand slid off, making him almost punch Castiel's hip. His hand got caught in Castiel's coat and he struggled to tear himself free.

Running to the doors, just as they were shutting, the man turned and winked at Castiel.

"You're comfy. Call me."

Castiel blinked at the doors, even after they closed on the man.

What? Just, what?

Was he asked out?

And call him? He didn't have a name or a number...

His hand had gotten stuck in the pocket of Castiel's coat, as if he was trying to put something in there?

Or steal something, hey c'mon Cas, real world here.

He dived his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a scrap of receipt with messy, loopy handwriting flourished on one side.

Dean Winchester

07889880259

Oh, OH.

Castiel was speechless.

Look a line break. And a POV change. Yes it is Christmas.

Dean swung himself into the train carriage, ignoring how full it was. There would be a seat or some kind of space.

They always did.

And this time there was a seat. Next to a lanky, dark-haired man.

As Dean sat next to him, he noticed how muscly he was. The man didn't try to and show it off, in fact he seemed to do the opposite.

Clad in supposedly three layers and surrounded by commuters all huffing and puffing at the stories in various newspapers, the man didn't look hot at all.

Not in all senses of the word, the man was eye-candy.

So good, in fact, Dean just couldn't let this one go.

He tore off a corner of a receipt he had in his jeans pocket and found a pen in his leather jacket pocket. Stretching his legs well into the aisle, he scribbled his name and number.

Hiding it in his palm, he yawned and begun the slow but well-practised art of falling asleep on the man next to him.

As the train sped into the darkening night, the passengers dwindled until it was just him and the man.

It was three stations until he needed to get off.

Plenty of time.

A girl got into the carriage and glanced at them. Dean saw her smile, almost sappily, and he half-winked fluttering his eyes. She noticed and he let his eye flicker up to the dark-haired man and smiled slightly.

The girl seemed to get it and she sat down opposite them.

Dean's head was at the man's hip, butting his side awkwardly.

The man leaned to the left, as if trying to escape the crazy man who had decided to make him into a bed.

Dean muttered something and shifted his arms so he was practically holding him in place. The man tensed.

The train stopped outside a station, the stranger decided that this would be a good time to wake him up.

"Excuse me? Sir? Excuse me?" A deep, gravelly voice called, and Dean acted out the whole sleepy wait-where-am-I phase.

"Lorwick?" He repeated, scrunching his face up.

Then he made his eyes go wide, like he had just taken in what had been said.

The piece of paper with his number on it was still in his hand.

He grabbed the arm rests and tried to hoist himself up, deliberately falling so his hand slipped into the man's pocket.

He tried to get it out before the doors closed, acting the harried commuter.

At the doors, piece of paper safely in the other man's pocket, he stopped and grinned back at the rather confused man.

"You're comfy. Call me."

And with a wink, he ducked out of the doors and disappeared into the cool, crisp October night.

He smiled. He had pulled it, whenever the man decided to call him.

He hoped he did, that one was worth keeping a hold of.

He wasn't even away from the train for ten minutes when his phone began to ring.

Unknown Number.

Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

Well, hello.

Usually I would muck about with small talk but: A. It's only quarter to 11.

And B.

I have school tomorrow.

It's okay you can take a breather to stave off the heart attack I just bestowed on you.

So yeah, early nights and schist.

I won't update as much (Rejoice Zoe, Rejoice) But I will update on Thurs-Weds and definitely on the weekend.

If you're going to school, take my luck. I don't need it. (I'm already dead anyway, homework? What homework?)

If any of you are confused about my gender, I am a girl, but if you want to envision me as a guy, feel free. (FYI, I have muscles from not sitting at home and reading Fanfiction all day)

Have a great day if you are not going to school and have an even better one if you are going to hell- sorry school.

Fez.