Grease Monkeys and Orange Aprons

Chapter 1: Down South Jukin'

Song of the Chapter: Wanted Dead or Alive- Bon Jovi (;

A/N: Bit of a break from my writer's block on The Innocent. Hope you all like! :D

"Castiel Collins to checkout lane number five please. Castiel to checkout lane number five."

Castiel looked up at the sound of his voice being called over the loudspeaker. It didn't happen often, but when it did, he normally had to help carry out the heavier things like grills and sandbags. He'd become one of the more muscled people in the group of employees that included his brother Gabriel and his uncle Balthazar. Balthazar was only part-time, so Castiel and Gabriel hardly ever saw him.

Castiel made his way through the throng of people, mainly men who had been forced by their wives and girlfriends to purchase copious quantities of Christmas decorations, and sighed in irritation when he spied Gabriel at checkout lane number five, tootsie pop dangling from his mouth.

"Hey, Cassy! Come 'ere!" Gabriel shouted, attracting the attention of a few passerby. Gabriel ignored them, continuing to flap his arms exaggeratedly, waving Castiel over. Castiel rolled his eyes and stepped up to the counter, crossing his arms over his orange Home Depot apron.

Gabriel hopped up and down excitedly, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. "Look! Look! Check out the new guy!" Gabriel practically squealed. "God, he's so hot," he purred, pointing with his lollipop towards the auto-mechanics 'cubby'.

"What are you talking about? I don't see any- Oh." Castiel's voice died in his throat as he spotted the person in question. Blue coveralls, already splattered with grease stains, were stretched tight over broad shoulders, evenly outlining the man's obviously lean physique. He carried two tires on his right shoulder, a heavy-looking toolbox dangling from his left hand. He moved with surprising grace.

"I told you. You so want to jump his bones," commented Gabriel, watching his little brother stare intently at the new grease monkey. He twirled the lollipop, making loud smacking sounds that caused an elderly woman to glare at him. Gabriel stuck his tongue out at her, colored red from the sucker, and she hurried away, an indignant expression painting her face.

"I do not!" Castiel hissed, glaring at his brother, who just waggled his eyebrows, smirking.

"If you say so, Cassy." Gabriel flicked the lollipop stick at Castiel. He swatted it to floor, giving his older brother a look of disgust.

"Don't call me that!" Castiel insisted. But Gabriel just walked away laughing, his light brown, mid-neck length hair swishing behind him. Castiel glared at his brother's retreating back. He loved his brother dearly, but he was a serious pain in the ass.

Castiel closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He decided he needed a break. He turned around and pushed through the throng of people and out the automatic doors, digging in his pockets for his cigarettes. Gabriel thought it was a disgusting habit, and Castiel couldn't agree more. But he was addicted to the down time, and the way the smoke filled his lungs was almost comforting.

He grunted in frustration when he came up with no lighters, only gum wrappers and a twenty-collar bill. He dangled the 'cancer stick' from his mouth and continued rummaging through his pockets, walking down the narrow stretch of concrete that was the designated employee's smoking area, intending to stick his head through the back door of the auto-shop and ask around for a lighter.

He must not have been watching where he was going, because as soon as he opened the door he ran smack into two tires, a toolbox and hard muscle. Both men tumbled to the ground, Castiel landed hard on his arse and the mystery man dropping his toolbox with a loud clanging sound. Castiel got to his feet quickly, collisions being a daily occurrence at the store.

"-the Hell?" the man cursed, his eyes landing on Castiel who was regarding him calmly, cigarette still hanging from his lips. Castiel stuck a hand out, trying to hide how awestruck he was by how…beautiful this stranger was. Full lips, a light dusting of freckles (that may as well have been air-brushed on) and green eyes clearer than emeralds.

The man regarded it suspiciously, peering up at Castiel in the dim light of the street lamps that lined the store. He grasped Castiel's hand and allowed himself to be pulled up, surprised by the smaller man's imperceptible strength.

Castiel spoke around the cigarette in a way that can only be achieved from a decade and a half of smoking. "Castiel Collins. Sorry about that." Their hands were still clasped together and Castiel shook the other man's.

"Dean. Winchester. And don't worry about it." Dean couldn't help but noticing how blue Castiel's eyes were, even in the low light. Dean shook his head and focused on what he was saying.

"What?"

"I said, are you new?" Castiel already knew that answer, but he was just find with watching those pouty lips move. He found his gaze wandering to the other man's lips and had to heave his gawking eyes up to look at those deep emeralds.

"Yeah, I started today. Kinda slow, though. Don't you people do anything other than drink beer and gawk at Playboy magazines?" Dean visibly shuddered, remembering earlier that day how he'd had to pretend he actually enjoyed staring at female anatomy, which he REALLY did not.

Castiel chuckled, a small rumbling sound. " 'Fraid not. Don't worry, it gets better. They know you're gay yet?"

It wasn't the question itself that startled Dean, it was how casually it was asked. Dean blinked and felt his cheeks tingle. "Er, no. Didn't really plan on saying anything. Let them figure it out for themselves, you know?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck, feeling twitchy under Castiel's stare, which hadn't wavered since they'd collided.

"Got a light?"

"Uh, yeah." Dean patted his pockets and felt the outline of his father's old lighter. He pulled it from his pocket and tossed it to Castiel. Castiel caught it and lit the cigarette expertly, shaking the lighter as the flame died, apparently possessing the knowledge of the little trick Dean's dad had taught him at a young age. Shake the lighter, let it soak up the extra juice, then tilt it.

"Thanks." Castiel took a long drag from his cigarette, puffing the smoke out in a ring. Dean watched the smoke curl from his mouth just a little too intently, earning a grunt from Castiel.

Castiel smirked. This wasn't the first time he'd captured the eye of someone at work. Though, he wasn't really sure what caught their eye in the first place. To Castiel, he was a nerd. He had glasses that were thicker than windows, he always looked too tired. He just didn't think he looked good enough anywhere.

He tossed the lighter back to Dean, who caught it and rubbed his thumb over the stainless-steel casing. Castiel noticed two letters scratched into the face: J.W.

"Your dad?" Castiel pointed with his cigarette to the engraving. Dean nodded, pocketing the lighter hastily and looking away, feeling the old memories trying to dredge their way to the surface. "He's dead, isn't he?" Castiel recognized the look of grief and loss and abandonment. He couldn't count how many times he'd felt that way, especially after his father, Michael, had passed away.

"Yeah. He was walking home, drunk, and was hit by a car. Drunk pedestrian hit by a sober sixteen year old girl. Funniest shit I've ever heard." Dean smiled, looking down at his hands and pulling out a dirty old, red grease towel from the back pocket of his coveralls. He fiddled with it, still not looking at Castiel.

"Now," Dean said. "It's just me and Sammy."

"Sammy?" Castiel puffed out another cloud of smoke, not feeling a bit guilty for prying. If Dean didn't want to answer, then he wouldn't. Castiel had learned that one the hard way. People liked to ask him questions, if they ever got close enough. He almost always became defensive, stubbornly refusing to reveal his fragile past.

Dean fished in his pocket and came up with a cigarette of a more…healthy variety than Castiel's. Dean lit the stick and noticed Castiel's smirk.

"Lights? Really? Marlboro Lights? Seriously?" Castiel smiled and removed his cigarette from between his lips, tapping the ash to the ground.

Dean smiled back and took a long drag. "At least they're not Pall Malls." Castiel nodded in agreement. "And…Sam's my little brother. He's twelve going on thirty-four." Dean blew a trail of smoke out his nose, watching the people scurry in and out of the parking lot. Dean sighed. Sammy knew too much for a seventh grader.

"Good to know I'm not the only one with a small family. It's just me, Gabriel and my uncle Balthazar."

"What's with all the angel names?" Dean asked, curious to know more about this blue-eyed Castiel.

Castiel shrugged. "Not really sure. My father's name was Michael but-"

"Cassy! Oh, Caaaaassyy!" Castiel audibly groaned, dropping his cigarette and snubbing it with the toe of his boot. Gabriel sprinted over, grinning like the idiot he was.

"What, Gabriel?"

His old brother stopped short when he saw Dean. He raised his eyebrows and didn't even try to hide the fact that he was undressing Dean with his eyes, who glared at him.

"You need something?" Dean snapped, green eyes narrowing at Gabriel.

"Oh no, gorgeous, I'm perfectly content, as of now," Gabriel hummed. "You know, that smoking of yours is a nasty habit. You're going to ruin those pretty little lungs."

Castiel was becoming increasingly agitated. "Hey, Gabe?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up." Castiel glared at his brother, who clutched his chest (on the wrong side, mind you) and feigned hurt.

"Your words cause me pain, brother." Gabriel pouted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a mini Hershey bar. He unwrapped it and dropped the wrapper unceremoniously to the ground. Castiel stooped and picked it up, pocketing it. He was used to picking up Gabriel's candy wrappers by now, he'd been doing it since Gabriel could say 'gumdrop'.

"Good. Now get back to work before I sic Ash on you," Castiel threatened. Gabriel's eyes widened.

"No! Not that mullet-wearing, beer drinking, computer fixing geek! Fine, I'll go." Gabriel stuffed the candy bar into his mouth and skulked away, arms crossed over his chest like a four year old.

"Aaaaand…that was Gabriel," Castiel said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn and torn jeans. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it. Hey, I gotta get back to work, but maybe I'll see you around," Dean said, looking like he wanted to do anything but leave.

"Yeah, sure," Castiel said, turning away as Dean heaved the tires onto his shoulder again.

"Nice meeting you, Dean!" Castiel called over his shoulder.

"You too, Cas!" Dean shouted back. Castiel cocked his head to the side, a bad habit that made it hard to hide his confusion. Dean had called him Cas...

The only nicknames he'd ever received were from his brother, which were always more or less embarrassing. He liked Cas.

He liked Dean Winchester.

And now he loved his job even more.

I'm going to try and 'Americanise' my stories, you know, replacing the 's' with 'z'. I'm mostly American, so I might as well try.

Castiel is a bit OOC for this story, he's more laid back but still self-conscious. I just can't imagine him without glasses so...I gave him glasses.

Right now, my Muse is snacking away happily at my thoughts, devouring them and making them pre-chewed so I can think better. Good, Muse, good. Normally, she's a a total bitch.

Feelings of an Almost HUMAN Nature,
Dublin O'Malley

XOXOX