Cas is the night shift barista at a 24-hour Starbucks and Dean always comes to the drive through after the lobby is closed. Cas knows the Impala by sound and is kind of in love with Deanâs voice through the intercom and the brief smiles he gets when he hands him is late-night cup of joe. He never orders anything fancy so Cas doesnât know why he keeps coming to this particular coffee shop. Probably just convenient.
After several weeks of this, Dean strikes up a conversation at the window. They start chatting about nothing for a few minutes every evening, swapping jokes and funny little stories about their daily lives. Cas starts writing things on Deanâs coffee cup, things he think will make him smile. Dean brings Cas a snack because Cas is sick of muffins.
Cas mentions this guy casually to the coworkers who work when heâs off, but they draw blanks. They might vaguely remember a guy in a cool car, but nothing else comes to mind. Cas canât believe that he might be special or anything.Â
Schedule and staffing changes require Cas to move to the morning shift. As happy as he is to get a little more regular sleeping hours, he misses the night shift when it was quiet and he had the place to himself and didnât have to deal with the hurry-hurry-hurry of the morning crowd. But most of all he misses Dean. He liked their little private moments in the middle of the night. He doesnât kid himself that heâll ever see Dean again. It was a passing thing, nothing important. Nothing that could have gone anywhere anyway.
He tells himself that right up to the moment Dean is walking into the Starbucks, a little after the morning rush has died down, bleary-eyed and looking nervous. Dean grins at him, shy and pleased. Is he blushing? Cas thinks he might be blushing. Which, well, would only be fair, because Cas feels like his face is going to catch fire.
Dean orders his usual coffee. Cas wishes, not for the first time, that his usual was something more elaborate so that he could spend more time making it for him. Cas canât control the way his heart races when their fingers brush around the heated paper cup.
Heâs about to take his coffee and go when Cas opens his big fat mouth and asks, âShouldnât you be sleeping? I thought you worked nights too.â
Dean is definitely blushing when he laughs at himself before answering. âItâs stupid,â he says. âBut, um. I asked what happened to the guy who used to work nights, and they told me you got switched to mornings. So. I, uh.â
Cas can feel his fingers trembling with his heartbeat. âSo you came to see me?â he asks.
âWell when you put it like that,â Dean laughs, sipping at his hot beverage. âYeah. I guess I did.â
Cas canât think of a single thing to say. His mind is a complete blank. But he canât stand to watch Dean fidget, watch doubt and self-deprecation creep over his beautiful face, so he blurts out âIâm on break in ten minutes,â which isnât technically supposed to be true but he can beg for coverage. âWill you still be here?â
Deanâs grin is brighter than the morning sun through the window. âYeah. Yeah, Iâll be here.â
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