The boss cleared his throat, taking his feet off the table as she turned back around, expression carefully calm, “Aren’t you going to pass them out?”
The raven-haired girl took a deep breath, before plastering the fakest smile Dean had ever seen across her face, “Of course.”
She begrudgingly picked up one of the trays and began placing the coffees down in front of the men, who all could’ve tried a lot harder not to stare as her chest got within a few inches of their faces.
Dean shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from the intern. She doesn’t deserve this. He didn’t know much about her other than her name and the obviously fake rumours that circled the office. It wasn’t enough that she was in fact the only female in the office – the guys apparently needed to degrade her further by letting her in on the Office Secret of Success: Shorter your skirt, higher you’ll climb.
What a bunch of dicks, Dean began to sweat as she got closer to his seat, should I help her? He picked his pen back up from the table, eyes starring intently at it as the click of high heels got closer, she is almost done now…
A moment later, an arm came into view, placing a coffee cup in front of him. He felt his cheeks heat up as he kept his gaze firmly on the pen, not wanting to accidentally look at the boobs that were only a few inches from his face. Why couldn’t she be taller?
He heard a few snickers and felt his cheeks flare a brighter red, why did I take this job again?
His head shot up at the light shoulder squeeze, and their eyes finally met, hers surprisingly warm, crinkled around the edges with the genuine smile she gave him. Damn…
Just as fast as it had happened, the moment was over and she had moved passed him. He did his best not to get lost in the flowery scent that lingered for a little too long, and to ignore the raised eyebrows of his colleagues.
The sound of a hand hitting something filled the air and Dean looked up to his boss’ seat, where he was grinning like an idiot and Cas’ cheeks began to burn. He could tell by the expression on both their faces exactly what he’d missed, this isn’t gonna end well…
Cas kept the fake smile plastered to her face as she continued handing out the rest of the coffees. Dean watched as she reached the end of the table, before leaning her hands on the end of the table, inadvertently – or perhaps on purpose – pushing her boobs together, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Dean watched in disgust as a few men adjusted their sitting positions, what is wrong with them? before Mr. Newman waved her off.
Once she was out of the room, he adjusted the papers in front of him, picking up the coffee cup, clearing his throat, “Now… where were we?”
“I just wish there was something I could do, y’know? They shouldn’t get away with it.”
Dean slowed as he approached the entrance to Cas’ cubicle, this doesn’t make any sense. You just met, and didn’t even talk to her! Why are you getting so bent out of shape? He switched the paperwork from one hand to the other, taking turns wiping the sweat from them, maybe I should apologize for this morning…
He knocked softly on the wall, before poking his head in. Her back was to him, and she had one hand white-knuckled around a cell, “I swear to God, if one more person calls me Sugar, I’m gonna-” she whipped around then, phone snapping closed, “What?”
“Whoa, hey,” Dean held up his hands in mock surrender, “I-I didn’t mean-”
“Oh,” her expression changed as she saw it was the blonde, smile lighting up her features, “Sorry.” She placed the cell down on her desk, before turning back to him, tilting her head slightly to one side, nodding at the papers he was holding, “Those for me?”
“Uh…” he lowered his eyes to his hands and mentally face-palmed, “Y-yeah. Jenkins needs these by the end of the day.”
She let out a sigh before pushing away from her desk, rolling over to the blonde in her chair, snatching the papers, “Does anyone in this office do their own paperwork?”
“Well, uh, I-I…” he swallowed thickly, get it together, Winchester!
She raised an eyebrow at him, corner of her mouth pulling up into a smile as she rolled back to her desk, “Wow, I haven’t had that affect on a boy since the tenth grade.”
“Wh-what?” Dean felt his cheeks flare, “N-no! That’s not-I mean, I don’t-”
“Oh, relax.” She waved a dismissive hand at him as she stood up, “I’m just messing with you.”
She smirked up at him as she closed the distance between them, stopping a few inches in front of him, perfume beginning to envelope his senses. Were her eyes always that blue?
Dean shook his head, bringing re-focused eyes to hers, “Sorry.. .what?”
She chuckled before pointing behind him, “You gonna let me out or…?” She shrugged, holding the papers out to him, “Unless you’d rather do the copies?”
“Oh, right,” he took a step to the side, unblocking the entrance to her cubicle, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt, “Sorry.”
“Relax, Stretch.” She sent a wink over her shoulder as she started toward the copier, “You’re the only one I enjoyed having in my box.”
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The sing-song voice floated up the stairs, disrupting the ex-hunters’ sleep. He groaned and rolled over, burying his head beneath the pillow.
He removed the pillow and sniffed the air after a moment, stomach rumbling as the scent hit his nose, pancakes? Dean shot up, sniffing the air more intently, chocolate chip pancakes? He rolled out of bed, ignoring the goose bumps that broke out across his skin as the cold air him him, it’s not my birthday… he grabbed a shirt off the doorknob before freezing at the top of the stairs, shit… is it our anniversary?
He scrambled back to the bedroom, nearly falling over himself to get a look at the calendar. Thank God, he deflated with relief as he saw it wasn’t their anniversary, that could’ve been so bad. He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath, okay, if it’s not our anniversary, then why is he making pancakes?
The blonde turned from the calendar and started back toward the stairs, only one way to find out… He began down the stairs slowly, keeping his eyes and ears open for any indication of whatever it was he was missing. He rounded the corner and leaned himself against the doorframe in the kitchen, watching as the raven-haired man ladled batter onto the flat top. The blondes’ eyes roamed over the table, nothing out of the ordinary…
“There you are!” Cas gave him a thousand-watt smile and placed a plate piled high with pancakes down on the table, arching an eyebrow, “Well?” He gestured to the chair before spinning back around to the stove, “They’re gonna get cold.”
“Sorry,” the blonde took a seat, starring at the stack in front of him, smell enveloping his senses, man they smell good. “What’s the occasion?”
He watched his boyfriends’ back carefully for any indication he should know what was happening, but to his surprise, he just shrugged before turning back around, giant smile still on his face, “It’s Pancake Day.”
“Yeah,” Cas sat himself down, his plate almost empty compared to the monster stack on the Winchesters’, “I read about it online, and didn’t think you’d mind if we made it a tradition.”
“Oh,” the blonde nodded slowly and felt himself relax more as he learned he wasn’t in fact forgetting anything. He noticed the look on his lovers’ face and his brows creased in confusion, “What?”
Cas smiled and shook his head, “I just thought you’d be happier. If you don’t like the pancakes, we don’t have to-”
“No! No, it’s not that…” Dean rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, should I tell him? “I mean, I would love to make pancakes a tradition.”
“Ooohhh, I get it,” he reached for the syrup.
“You thought you were in trouble.”
“Well…” he took in the raven-haired mans’ expression and felt his cheeks heat up, “yes, okay? I thought – only for a second – that maybe I had forgotten our anniversary or something.”
“Don’t worry,” Cas’ smile returned, and he was barely able to hold in his chuckles, “If you ever did forget something that big, you wouldn’t be waking up to the scent of pancakes.”
“Nope,” he passed the syrup and winked, “You’d wake up wearing them.”
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“It’s ruined! Ruined! Why do bad things happen to good people? I’m a good person. Aren’t I a good person? Why? Why must I be punished?”
Dean came out of the kitchen, black smoke billowing out around him as he hurried in the direction of the smoke detector.
“Uh, is every–” the smoke alarm blared, cutting off the younger Winchesters’ question.
Dean took in a heavy sigh and waved a towel in front of it vigorously with both hands. Sam shot a look over to Gabriel before they sprung up, opening all the windows in the living room. Grabbing decorative pillows off the couch, they hustled over to help Dean wave away the smoke. Between the three of them, it wasn’t long before the thick haze began to clear and it looked like they might be able to salvage their evening.
And then the sprinklers went off.
Defeated, Dean scrubbed a hand through his now-wet hair, “Awesome.” Dropping the towel, he snagged a beer from the case on the coffee table in front of the couch. Twisting the cap off, he took a long pull from the bottle before making his way to the front door, disappearing outside.
“For the love of Liza Minnelli!” Cas stomped out of the kitchen, hair matting under the shower from the ceiling. He flicked some sopping hair out of his face as he spotted the two guests. He spread both arms wide, “Are you seeing this? Well, I hope everyone’s thirsty, because apparently? All we’re serving this evening is water. No, no champagne for us. We’re much too good for that.” He scrunched up his face in distaste, “Champagne, so boujee.” He flicked his sopping hair out of his eyes again, “So we’re trying something new. Isn’t that simply fabulous?” He laughed hysterically for a moment and then sobbed. His face crumbling into a pout, he put a hand over his heart, “I can’t. I can’t even. I mean, how am I meant to salvage this catastrophe? This would take more fabulous than the entire cast of Queer as Folk and The L Word combined. I could die. I could just die!”
Shoulders slumping, he ticked the items off on his fingers one-by-one, “Hors d’oeuvres? Burnt to a crisp! Wine? Out of stock. Out of stock. How could it be ‘out of stock’? It’s a ‘wine store’!” He rolled his eyes and then looked down at the floor, “And this. Just look at this. It’s like the last 2 minutes of the sinking of the Titanic in here. That’s it.” He threw his hands up into the air in defeat. “I’m done. I’m cancelling New Years!”
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Dean slid out from under the car he was working on to see his boss, chest heaving, face red, stomping toward him.
“Where the hell is my daughter?”
“Probably still sore from last night,” he smirked before sliding back under.
He felt his boss’ boot catch the end of his creeper, yanking him back out. The blonde glared up at the other man, I don’t have time for this.
The vein in his head began throbbing as he narrowed his eyes, “You want to try that again?”
The blonde ran a hand through his hair, shrugging.
His boss stomped his foot, face almost purple, “You will show me some respect, Diana!”
Diana? You really want to go there? He sighed before standing up, towering over his boss, “Sir, if I knew where your daughter was, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, keep making those jokes. We’ll see how funny you find them tonight,” his lips curled into an evil smile.
“Tonight? I think you’re losing it man, I get off at six.”
His boss’ smile grew, face returning to a somewhat normal colour, “Is that so? Interesting,” he took a few steps away, mindlessly looking over his tools, “I could’ve sworn the schedule said you were covering for her tonight.”
“Covering for her? You mean taking the graveyard shift?” Deans’ hands balled at his sides, no chance in hell, pal.
“That’s the one,” he picked up a screwdriver, smiling at it, “such a gentleman, you are.”
The blonde grit his teeth and had to use all his willpower not to punch him, “How so?”
He put the tool down, out of place, before meeting his eyes, smiling sweetly, “Offering to cover her shift without pay, of course.”
“Listen, if you think-”
“No, you listen,” he was back in his face again, eyes sparkling dangerously, “The only reason I don’t fire you,” he dropped his voice, “is because I promised your father. But if you ever talk about her like that again you will be sleeping under the bridge off 33rd Street and fighting over a barrel fire. Do I make myself clear?”
Deans glared in response, knuckles turning white at his sides.
“Don’t forget who owns who.”
He backed off again, clapping his hands, “Okay, good talk,” he looked around the shop and spotted the other two mechanics watching, “What’re you looking at? Get back to work!”
They both jumped at being caught and rushed back over to their cars, keeping their eyes on their work. His boss pulled the lapels of this suit, straightening it before walking back across the shop to his office.
Dean waited until he saw the office door close before knocking his toolbox to the ground, “Fuck!”
Tony and Mike looked up from their cars again, both men only coming marginally closer. Dean tugged at his hair, grinding his teeth together, if he thinks I’m staying for the graveyard shift, he’s got another thing coming.
Shit, Dean glanced at his watch before checking the positioning of the creeper, this’ll have to do.
He locked his tool box before grabbing his jacket, sneaking over to his boss’ office. He peered into the window and saw he was sitting, facing his computer. The blonde quietly came around the other side of the office, pressing his ear to the door. He held his breath as he listened.
Just as I thought, he smiled, shrugging on his jacket as he heard soft snores. He strolled over to the door before taking one last look around the shop. Nodding to himself that everything was in order, he walked out the door.
“Damn!” he pulled his jacket tighter around his chest as the cold hit him.
Jogging to his car, he fumbled with his keys, fingers already freezing. Oh c’mon!
After what felt like forever he finally wretched the door open and climbed inside. He spent a minute rubbing his hands up and down his bare legs, making a mental note to start leaving an extra set of clothes in the car. Thank God I did laundry last night, he rubbed his thighs through his boxers.
He took his phone off the seat next to him, punching the speed dial before bringing it to his ear, please pick up… please pick up…
“Cas, hey, buddy, I’m so sorry, my boss was being a dick and gave me the graveyard shift, but I’m leaving now. I should get there-”
“I-it’s fine, Dean. You don’t have to come.”
Dean blinked, next sentence of his explanation dying on his lips as he took in his shaky voice, something’s wrong, “Are you okay?”
He heard a sniff, “Y-yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to come over.”
You don’t sound fine, “Don’t be stupid, it’s your birthday, of course I’m gonna be there. I might’ve missed your brother making a fool of himself, but you and I both know the party doesn’t really start until I get there.”
“Dean,” his voice was hard, but the taller man didn’t miss the shaky inhale on the other line, “you missed the party. Everybody left.”
The blonde failed to swallow the guilt he felt building in his throat, “Oh.”
“Yeah, so just… it’s fine, don’t come over.”
Dean nodded, starring at himself in the rear view mirror, I should’ve been there, I should’ve left earlier then I could’ve- he cut himself off as he listened, heart breaking a bit as he heard the soft gasps of the man on the other line. He could picture him sitting there, hand over his mouth trying to keep the blonde from hearing him cry.
He closed his eyes, licking his lips, keeping his voice soft, “Cas,” what can I say? How can I make it up to you? “I’d still like to see you.”
“No, I-” another shaky breath, “you can’t.”
Dean felt his heart quicken, “What do you mean I can’t?” he was already jamming the key in the ignition, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Damn it, he threw the broken end of the key to the ground, eyes glancing skyward, you’re not gonna make this easy, are you? He looked around the lot, racking his brain for another idea, walk? No, it’s too cold for that. C’mon there has to be something I can-
He paused as he saw the old, broken down car in the corner of the parking lot, will it run in the cold? Time to find out, he climbed out of the car and all but ran to the other side of the lot, phone pressed tightly against his ear.
“Cas? You still there?”
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Destiel (Implied), Sabriel (Implied)
“He didn’t give me a choice.”
“Cas, it’s okay,” Dean swallowed thickly as his eyes landed on the face of the body, “You don’t have to explain.”
“Cas,” he turned to face the angel, hoping he was doing a better job of masking how freaked out he was than he felt, “let’s just get you home.”
“Cas, it’s fine,” he closed the small distance between them and pressed a kiss to his lips, “Trust me, okay?”
Cas gave a sheepish nod before allowing himself to be pulled towards the exit, “What are we gonna do?”
Dean let out a breath as he held the door open, “I have no friggin’ idea.”
“Hey, what took you guys-” Sam’s question died on his lips as he took in the expression on Cas’ face, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” Dean came through the door, keeping a guiding hand on Cas’ back as he stood there, eyes not leaving the ground.
“Are you sure?”
Dean held up a hand and shook his head. Sam nodded and shut up, confused eyes not leaving his brother.
Dean rubbed the raven-haired man’s shoulder a bit, “why don’t you go lay down for a while? I’ll come in to check on you in a bit, okay?”
The angel nodded meekly and headed off to his room, eyes not leaving the ground as he passed the younger hunter. Dean starred after him until he heard the door to his bedroom close, then he returned his gaze to his brother.
“Dean, what the hell happened?”
Dean gave his brother a once over, feeling a boulder settle into his stomach, how in the hell am I supposed to tell you?
Sam took a step closer, noticing the look in his brothers’ eye, “are you okay? Did something happen?”
You’d never forgive him…
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They all fell quiet, listening to the intense banging coming from their hotel neighbours. Sam rolled his eyes and got up from the table. This wasn’t what he pictured when Gabriel had invited him on a romantic get away. For one, Dean and Cas came, which, wasn’t completely surprising, Sam just thought he’d get some… alone time with his boyfriend.
But, they had been stuck in the room practically all week – the weather turned as soon as they checked in – apparently a tornado warning had been issued when they were in the sky. The hotel was too paranoid to let the guests try to leave, spewing something about ‘it’s safer in your rooms’, Sam snorted at that, safer in a high-rise?
For such a fancy hotel, there wasn’t all that much to do. Not like any of them had really packed any board games, either – if he knew they would be stuck inside for seven days straight, he would’ve packed something other then a bathing suit.
And condoms. Don’t forget the condoms, Sammich.
He rolled his eyes at the interruption, yes, of course, and those. The giant starred out the sliding glass door, it doesn’t even look that cloudy…
This newest game wasn’t even that good. They discovered early on that they were sharing the wall with newly-weds. Which again, wouldn’t have been so bad, except that they have sex.
They couldn’t go more then an hour without doing it. They didn’t even slow down when the tornado warning was issued – the warning actually seemed to make them go at it more frequently. I guess if they think they might die… Gabriel and Dean had concocted the game out of sheer boredom one night – we can hear through the wall anyway, Sammich – they all bet on how long the guy would last. Sam didn’t know what was wrong with him, aside from the obvious, but the banging on the wall – and thus, their sessions – had been getting increasingly shorter. Last session they had was somewhere under five minutes.
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The blonde lost his grip on the doll and both it and the raven haired man went crashing against the shelf. Dean winced when snowglobes went crashing to the floor as it began to tip over.
“Oh, c’mon!” he watched as the falling shelf caused a domino-like chain reaction, sending each shelf after it crashing toward the ground.
Cas starred wide-eyed as the scene unfolded, mouth slightly agape. Dean pulled the angel by the sleeve toward the door, failing to suppress the blush that was creeping up his neck.
“Shut up and move,” he pulled on the sleeve harder, practically dragging the shorter man behind him.
A moment later they burst through the doors, the bite of cold air making the blonde’s eyes water. He wiped at them hastily as he scanned the parking lot for their car. He found it after what felt like forever and started toward it, knuckles growing white around the others’ wrist. He all but shoved Cas toward the passenger side before making his way around to the drivers’ side.
He climbed in with a huff before starting the engine, “Don’t tell Sammy.”
“Sammich, hurry up!”
“You could help y’know,” Sam flicked his eyes up from the present in front of him to the angel splayed out on the couch.
“Pfft, please,” the shorter man shot up and leaned over the arm, “we both know it would go ten times slower if I helped.”
“Not if you actually helped, instead of tying me up with the ribbons,” he taped the last corner before carefully placing it in the shopping bag that held the others.
“You can’t blame me for that,” Gabriel turned around so he was hanging upside down, “this is so boring.”
“You didn’t have to come, y’know,” the giant began packing the wrapping paper and tape away.
The brunette frowned and tilted his head to the side, “Would you rather be alone?”
Sam scoffed as he got to his feet, grabbing the shopping bag, legs tingling from being crossed so long, “Not like this is any better.”
Gabriels’ frown deepened and he lowered his eyes to the floor, “Am I really that bad?”
Sam half smiled before making his way to him, leaning down to press a kiss to his exposed neck, “Yes. But if you weren’t I wouldn’t have nearly as much fun.”
He smiled up at the giant and watched as he hid the shopping bag in the hall closet, “You think this is fun, you should wait until you see what I got you for Christmas.”
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