#But the fact this au is not popular enough need to be fixed ASAP

[truck-senpai]

gUys gys guYS! what if like.

A small.cute idea!

But what if Tim was Damian's fav brother.

And I was so normal abt it like what if

[lixie-lovie]

{ Mysterious Stranger | skz }

h.hyunjin x reader

Chapter 4: The Reckoning

Genre: Dark!au, Thriller-ish, Fantasy!au

Warnings: Some cursing, mention of weapons/blood/demons, fighting occurs

((if anything else needs to be tagged/warned about please send me a message..i’ll fix it asap))

Word Count: 4.1 k

Note: I am so sorry this is later than anticipated (uni is kicking my ass lol), but regardless I hope everyone enjoys! Hopefully the next chapter already being in progress will make it come out sooner..

Side Note: This/my blog is getting a bit more popular..should I open taglists for my work or start taking requests? Anyone wanna lmk if you want that???

Chapter Song: Mayday - VICTON

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Overwhelmed. That’s how I felt. My heart felt too heavy, my hands too shaken, my mind racing, and my body lethargic. The Straykids base was nice, at least what I had gotten to see, but everything felt far away. As if it would all collapse in on me if I breathed too suddenly. I was sitting on a medical cot now, staring at my shaking hands as if they were not my own. They said they needed to check me over, make sure I wasn’t infected. Infected. What does that even mean? Their words were kind enough, although few and far between, but I could see what was unspoken in the way their eyes scanned my poor form, the way their hands hovered over their weapons, and how their chins lifted as they spoke their greetings towards me, as if trying to send the sound waves through me. I was an outsider, different, infected, dangerous.

I had met the majority of the rest of the group now and I let myself recall their names and faces while waiting here now, trying to rid myself of the anxiety pressing coldly against my eyes and pooling heat in my cheeks.

First was the large training room, sparks flying as metal swords struck metallic  testing dummies. Their sound hurt my ears in the large, open room with ceilings so high the noise reverberating was making my head throb with the sound of my own pulse. Minho they called him. Soft brown eyes, wild on the inside. His wet with sweat hair laid flat over his eyes and he used his non-weapon wielding hand to push it out of his face. Then, sticking his hand out to shake my own with his larger, much more sweaty palm, he noticed my scrunched up nose in disgust and laughed, pulling his hand back and apologizing lightheartedly. His eyes stayed trained on me, not unkind, but definitely guarded. We made quick of our goodbyes and I couldn’t help but dwell on the meeting while trying to match strides with Hyunjin who had been leading me silently. 

Minho smelled of old leather, iron shards, and something distinctly warm I couldn’t quite place. I thought briefly that if our situations were any different I may have thought him handsome and blushed at his eyes staying lingered on my form too long, but our situation wasn’t different and I knew his stare wasn’t trusting and kind, but full of silent, unspoken malice. 

The next room I was led into was a room full of old books and the smell of ink. Hundreds of thick, worn books laid dusty on shelves having long lost their gloss. Many were in languages I couldn’t read, some I pictured weren’t distinctly human in origin. Pages torn and my interest peeked. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the handheld knowledge surrounding me long enough to notice that I was being approached by a figure unfamiliar to me. When the smiling, kind face of the freckled boy popped into view with a hand on my shoulder I winced and jerked my body harshly away, muttering shy apologies. 

I was only met with laughter, but as I studied his face further I found myself taking note of the worried bend in his brow and questioning eyes. I felt scrutinized and defensive suddenly, squaring my shoulders and smiling a little too forced. He simply introduced himself with a boisterous laugh before making up some half-assed excuse my tour guide scoffed at before scurrying away as if my presence caused some disturbance. He told me his name so briefly and quietly I found myself drawn out of my memories questioning if I could even recall the sounds. Felix, my brain supplied. I let out a silent huff of air as my lips formed an ‘o’ shape, before diving back into my thoughts about the others I had met. 

The office space I was soon led to was crowed to say the least. Each of the walls were meticulously lined with filing cabinets, but it seemed as though at least half of their contents had been thrown or piled haphazardly on the large, wooden desk sitting between the bodies currently arguing. Yelling continued as Hyunjin and I stood by the door staring awkwardly. I shuffled my feet and became increasingly interested in the elegant marble tiles beneath my beat up shoes. 

“Enough!” A loud cry followed by a harsh jostling noise shook me out of my anxiety riddled state and I swiftly whipped my head up to see what had happened. My eyes stayed trained on where the noise came from and found myself staring into the cool, calm, and serious eyes of the man at the head of the desk. His curly ash blonde hair bounced around as he ran a firm hand through them and he sighed deeply, one hand raised in a silencing gesture towards the men in front of him. “We have a visitor..Hyunjin, are you going to introduce us?” He said, his tone firm while his eyes stayed trained on my form critically. 

Hyunjin groaned, uncrossing his arms and straightening himself out as he pushed himself off of the wall he was once leaning on. He gave a short, lackluster introduction of me before turning to the men in the room giving a sarcastic pointed look to the man at the head of the desk as if pushing him to make Hyunjin talk more. The man, who I now assumed to be the leader of this group, rolled his eyes and waved Hyunjin off in a dismissive behavior before making a move to round the desk quickly. Hyunjin took this as his cue to stand by the door looking uninterested and my eyes followed the only familiar figure out of the room slowly. 

Soon the leading male was stood in front of me with a wide, slightly awkward grin as he held his hand out in introduction. “Hello. I am Chan, the leader of the Straykids operative, this is Jisung, our adversary expert, and this is Changbin, our mission lead. I am sure this is a lot to take in, but we are currently handling some important new information, so please make yourself at home and direct any questions you may have to Hyunjin. He will be assigned as of now as your personal trainer and mentor for the time being.” He said, quickly, warily eyeing me up in a way I am sure he thought was subtle. My eyes darted to the two men standing behind his broad shoulders, one dark haired with an undercut and brooding look staring harshly at the other brunette with soft eyes and a joking smile playing on his lips while he bounced on the balls of his feet. I let my palm rest loosely in Chan’s as I smiled as genuinely as I could manage at his surface kindness. It was then that I heard the aggravated noises coming from outside the door from a certain tour guide that was a bit unhappy with the new arrangement. I wasn’t sure what training these people were mentioning or what I could possibly be mentored on, but I didn’t have the energy left in my fatigued state to question anything. 

Chan swiftly collected himself before excusing me out of the office. As the large black doors closed loudly behind me I heard the previous commotion of voices start yelling again as something distinctly paper-like in sound slapping against a wooden surface. I giggled softly to myself at the silliness of the situation before turning my head and catching the glaring, malice filled eyes of Hyunjin already boring into mine. 

“Just because he assigned me to deal with you doesn’t mean I’ll take kindly to babysitting. Just do as I say and we won’t have a problem.” He said harshly, obviously throwing some kind of a fit as his arms stayed tightly crossed as he pushed himself forward to start walking down yet another seemingly endless hallway. “This is only until Seungmin returns. Now, hurry up, I’ll take you to the ward to get checked. You can stay there for tonight.” He said, already quickening his pace at the thought of not having to stay by me. 

“Hey!” I shouted after him, trying to softly jog to keep up. “Don’t you think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself?! I have some questions I need answered first!” I spoke loudly, trying to portray whatever confidence I had left in my body. Before he could make a motion to swiftly turn on his heel to presumably yell at me some more, I suddenly heard a striking voice coming from behind me.

I whipped my head around at the sound of my mother’s name being formed by an unfamiliar sounding voice. I gasped softly at the sight of a young woman, dressed in elegant purple silk robes, a hood covering my view of her face, being pulled harshly in the other direction by a man wearing the same type of outfit. As I came to my senses and out of my shock I heard the door they were leaving out of close sharply and couldn’t stop my body from taking off in the direction after them. I ran, my eyes nearly filling with tears at the picture of the woman’s softly shocked, shadowed face as she was pulled away. All I could focus on was the fact that this may be a chance for answers I have been harshly denied of since coming to this strange, foreign place. I called out, unsure of what I was even saying, before suddenly being unable to run any further. I noticed in this moment how numb my outstretched arms were and how cold my body had become as Hyunjin wrapped his strong arms around my waist and pulled me harshly in the other direction. 

Quickly and shakily I began questioning Hyunjin while staring down at his arms still holding me tightly in a way that began to make me feel as though he was trying to contain a wild animal. He sharply shushed me before leaning down and tightening his grip around me further, to the point all I could focus on was that it hurt. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered. Shut up, follow me, and you might as well forget that ever happened.” 

His words were sharp, cutting deep and piercing through me like cold silver daggers. At this I began to get angry, I felt a scolding warmth building up in my chest spreading to the point I felt as though my fingertips would melt like wax from a candle forgotten too long. Suddenly, in a way I don’t remember even being capable of, I had found a point of weakness in Hyunjin’s grip before swiftly, in a practically practiced manner I had turned to face him, pulled the dagger from where I had placed it in my pocket earlier, and held it sturdily to Hyunjin’s throat an arms length away from his now shocked form. 

I felt powerful and awful at the same time. My mind was twisting and tangling with dark, racing thoughts getting lost in the mix. My hand wasn’t shaking, my arm stood firm while pressing the blade harshly to his honey-toned, tanned skin, and my expression wasn’t faltering as I stared into his startled, anger ridden eyes. I felt my heart pounding excitedly in my chest as I took in what I had done. I wasn’t sure how I had completed this action, nor did I know where it would lead from here, but I knew I was sure this was the only way to get answers to the questions plaguing my mind. My hand began to feel heavy as time went on, so I inhaled harshly, letting the cool air burn my lungs, the internal pain bringing me back to the present, before forming the words at the forefront of my mind. 

“That was my mothers name.” I said, staring passionately into Hyunjin’s eyes. “Now, I would like some answers.” My tone was jarring even to my own ears, dark and persuasive, unlike the timid one I had used to express myself earlier in the day. I pressed the blade harsher into Hyunjin’s skin with a pointed look on my face. He gave me a wry smile before slowly raising his hands in surrender. 

“Now, before you do anything rash. Think about what you’re threatening here..” He said lightheartedly, pointing at his neck, the dagger pressing there causing a thin line of red blood to pool from the connection of the cool metal and his warm skin. When my eyes flickered to my own hand and back up to his sharply we both knew I was faltering with my own actions. He took this as his opportunity to strike. 

Before I knew it he had knocked the blade away from his neck before making a move to grab and restrain me. However, the warmth from before began forming in my chest yet again and my thoughts suddenly shifted to something of pure instinct as I dodged to the right and out of the way of his graceful movement. My arm, still holding the blade firmly, swung out at him causing a large gash in the sleeve of his left arm and his inky red blood began to drop from the wound profusely as he involuntarily yanked his arm back towards himself, applying as much pressure to the gash as possible. He hissed softly through his teeth before looking at me, his eyes much more wild and calculating. Out of his own sleeve he produced a weapon, much like my own, and as I gasped softly coming out of the fit of rage I had previously been consumed by I remembered very little of what came next. 

Like a flash of elegant, terrifying, powerful lighting Hyunjin was lunging at me, one large hand of his restraining my armed one, forcing me to drop my weapon. It clattered to the ground loudly and I became alarmed. I cried out at the sprouting pain of being swiftly shifted around on my weight, my arm being bent awkwardly, and I quickly tried to pry myself out of his grasp. Soon, the tumbling, clumsy fight of pent up frustrations and untrustworthy anger led to us both falling to the ground. Hyunjin’s weight combining with my own was more than I could handle in my state and the last things I remember were the sharp impact of my head against the white marble flooring, Hyunjin’s soft words of annoyance laced with concern calling my name, the pain now blossoming from the suddenly sticky base of my skull, and the padding sound of feet approaching nearer as my vision faded to black. 

===========

When I came too I was staring at a white ceiling, surrounded by subtle noises and voices. I then became brutally aware of a painful headache now gracing my already confused mind. Remembering slowly what exactly had occurred, I groaned and began to struggle my way into a sitting position. 

“Oh, finally awake princess?” A sarcastic, annoyed voice came from the white bed across from the matching the one I was currently occupying. The voice itself belonged to none other than the man I was now sure was the enemy, sitting upright, glaring in my direction while having something done to his arm by the young boy with gentle hands sitting beside of him. My face began to heat up as I came to and took in the scene before me. When I noticed Hyunjin’s lack of shirt and my lack of response I began floundering for something to say or at least something else to look at other than the odd black lines covering Hyunjin’s defined chest and arms. 

Luckily I was saved from this difficult situation by the boy patching up Hyunjin’s arm finishing his job and standing up abruptly. My eyes snapped away from the irritating blonde and over to the young boy with fox-like features and snowy white hair. “Seems like you’re all patched up. I don’t know how you got such a nasty cut, but you better be more careful next time.” He said with a soft, playful voice, but surprisingly stern eyes directed at Hyunjin. Each of the syllables of his sentence were punctuated with increasingly violent taps against the now stitched and bandaged wound. With each tap Hyunjin winced and by the time the boy was walking away from Hyunjin’s now pouting form he had a face of annoyance as he glared in my direction. I questioned to myself why he hadn’t told this medic what exactly had happened, but as a light was suddenly shown in my eyes I didn’t think to question further due to the pounding of the headache throbbing at the base of my skull. 

“Hmm.. minor concussion, but after I patched you up it seems like you’ll heal up soon if you take it easy.” The boy said, leaning over my bedside to look over my face, his breath fanning softly over my cheeks because of his close proximity. His smile was soft and joyous, kind in a way I hadn’t seen since leaving Seungmin behind. This thought made me frown deeply in concern and frustration and the boy took notice of the shift in my expression immediately. 

“Oh! I guess I haven’t introduced myself yet.. I’m Jeongin! I work here in the ward under Seungmin’s training and supervision. Hyunjin carried you here earlier and you both were bleeding and bruised up pretty bad, so I guess I forgot the formalities.” I nodded along with what he was saying, but when he mentioned Hyunjin’s act of kindness my eyes snapped to his grimacing form as he was re-wrapping the bandages just placed on his arm moments ago while glaring daggers at me as if trying to force me to hear his thoughts of “don’t read too much into that.” I took this as a signal to smile lightly and thank Jeongin, allowing him to run off to do whatever work he was assigned to before taking care of us. 

As he left my line of sight I sighed deeply and began to take in my surrounding while pulling the IV attached to my arm out and shaking my limbs slightly as I started standing up and adjusting my now wrinkled, uncomfortable clothing. My thoughts were drifting back to the events in the hallway and my brow furrowed deeply as I scanned the room for whatever belongings I had with me and I tried remembering where the ward was located in relation to the hallway I had been in before. As I began to walk towards the door on the opposite side of the room that Jeongin had left out of I heard a light rustling noise from my side and suddenly was stopped by a large body blocking my way. I sighed harshly and looked up quickly, causing the pounding in my head to return and my balance to be thrown off for a moment. I staggered backwards and glared at the offending figure only to find Hyunjin’s sharp features glaring back at me just as harshly. 

“And where the hell do you think you’re going?” He snapped at me while holding his uninjured arm out to steady me by my shoulder. I regained my balance and huffed, brushing his hand off and side-stepping to hopefully avoid another fight. 

“To find answers.” I said dryly, pushing an arm out firmly to block him from getting in my way and walking towards the door. I was suddenly jostled as a firm, warm hand engulfed my wrist pulling me sharply backwards and turning me in the opposite direction of my destination. 

“But.. you’re injured” He said, his brow furrowed as he stared past my form, obviously thinking about something deeply. His hand wouldn’t release its grip from my wrist even as I tried pulling it roughly, so I sighed and decided to finish this conversation as it was clear I wouldn’t be leaving as easily as I would have preferred. 

“So? Remember that you’re the one to inflicted this, so what do you even care? Don’t you hate me anyways?” I said with a harsh sigh, staring into his face for any kind of reaction indicating an emotion, but as he kept his eyes trained forward I felt defeated in my stoic stance and relaxed my form, looking away to avoid becoming overwhelmed by the deep feeling stirring in my chest as I looked at him. “Look, this is important. What happened back there and before with Seungmin it all means something. I have so many questions and I just..” I took a moment to breathe, the tears I had been holding back threatening to spill over my stubborn lashes. 

I was broken out of my depressive state by his hand aggressively releasing my wrist, practically shoving it away as if it has scorched his skin. His face became dissonant as he stared at the doorway behind me, his form ridged. 

“Whatever.” He began walking hurriedly away, towards the door Jeongin had left from. I watched as he walked and listened to his footsteps sounding loudly on the white tile flooring in shock and awe of what had just happened, a million questions racing through my mind. Then, I was jolted out of my thoughts by the sudden stop of the sound of footfalls resonating through the room. I looked up towards Hyunjin’s back as he turned his face slightly to peer over his shoulder at my stiff form, still clutching onto my wrist his warm hand had been holding only mere moments before. “I’ll help you, but you may not like what answers you find.” 

His words were soft, spoken like whispers that pierced my ears like gunshots. I felt dizzy as I padded after him trying to form the new questions overlapping the old that were competing in my mind. “Wait!” This was all I was able to get out, my wrist, still warm from his embrace out stretched as my feet fell short when the loud door closed behind him and his steps receded somewhere unknown to me. I took a shuttering breath, replaying his words and everything that had happened up until this point briefly in my mind. My headache was growing stronger, questions still unanswered, but my resolve was unwavering as I steeled my nerves and turned to rush past the previously occupied beds and back out into the hallway to continue my journey. However, just as I was about to round my corner my eyes drifted back to the bed Hyunjin had been settled on before and my brow furrowed deeply. 

My steps were light as I crept slowly over to the bedside curiously. My hand ran over the stiff white sheets until my fingertips found the cool, sharp edge of my blade. It was lying there, placed delicately where the shine of the bright florescent white lights hit the blade elegantly. I picked it up, keeping my eyes trained on it, studying its shape yet again in awe. I turned it over in my hand a few times, entranced by the weightlessness of the deadly weapon I was handling. Then, as I turned yet again to leave the room my eyes caught on a torn, yellowing sheet of paper lying precariously next to where the blade had been before. The ink was messy and smudged in handwriting obviously rushed. It read: “Next time, dodge to the left. - H”

I snorted softly, a smile finding its way sneakily onto my lips as I pocketed the note gently and gripped my blade a little tighter. Then, I whipped my head in the direction of the door I knew was hiding secrets and adventure behind its hinges before hearing footsteps coming from the door behind me. By the gait made out by the noise I heard what I assumed to be Jeongin, coming to check on me and gasped knowing I wouldn’t be able to leave as easily if I didn’t rush. I took a deep breath and prepared myself silently. 

-----

Jeongin entered the room, calling their name loudly with a practiced grin gracing his features. When he noticed the door on the far side of the room still slightly ajar, behind it the sound of rushed footsteps receding quickly caused his grin to casually turn into a smaller, more genuine smile before he found himself chuckling to himself at their antics. “They definitely remind me of someone.” He said, addressing no one in particular while moving to clean the beds previously used. 

Unbeknownst to Jeongin a certain blonde boy, hidden out of sight, had seen the events of the last few moments and with a small smile and a whisper of laughter bubbling inside his once empty chest, he sighed and turned to make his leave with a soft shake to his head. 

“Yeah, they do, don’t they?”

[bonepoem]

What’s In A Name

AO3 Link - kams_log / @lovefromdean

Fandom/Ship: Supernatural, Destiel (Dean/Cas)

Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop AU

Word count: 2,422

Note: This is my first published work since October of 2016. Long story short, I’ve gone through a lot of shit in the last year but I’m finally at a place in life that I can start writing again. Consider this my first offering. There will be more to come. Please enjoy!

Summary: It was just a misunderstanding. They wrote his name wrong. No big deal. Except now the hot guy serving his coffee thinks his name is fucking "Dave" and Dean can't bring himself to correct him. Except he'll have to. Eventually. Right? Especially if he wants to ask him out on a date... right?

Dean was not the type to be a ‘regular.’ Anywhere. He didn’t frequent the same shops and stores, and he certainly never stayed in the same place for long. Granted, that was due to a lifetime of moving across state lines as often as the average girl revamped her wardrobe. At least, Dean could only assume as much. All he knew for certain is that he was not a regular. Anywhere.

Times were changing, however, and after moving to California to be closer to his brother after John died… well, maybe this would change too. That didn’t mean Dean had to like it.

The coffee shop was small and cozy. Dean never liked the popular places like Starbucks. They were too… busy. Too loud. Also, too friendly. He wasn’t there to make friends. He was there to get his morning dose of caffeine and move on. ASAP. Besides, he only had to do this a few more times till he could afford a damn coffee machine of his own. Then all these shops could go straight to hell.

Dean scoffed as he waited in line, staring up at the freakishly large menu above the counter as he tried to imagine how many ways a person could fuck up a simple cup of coffee. Apparently, that answer was a lot.

It didn’t matter in the end. When he reached the counter and a beaming blond with a lollipop in his mouth asked him for his order, Dean growled, “Get me whatever has the most caffeine in the largest cup you got.”

“You got it big boy,” the man behind the counter winked. “Got a name to go with that?”

Dean grunted his response and took his number and waited. The wait wasn’t long enough to inspire murder, so Dean accepted his order quietly and quickly rushed out of the store, bouncing the burning hot cup between his hands as the chilly autumn breeze swept around him. Well, as chilly as it could get for California.

Dean grumbled as he tentatively sipped at his drink, then paused. It wasn’t… bad. Something close to the opposite, in fact. He smirked and took a longer swallow before finally glancing down at his cup. His smirk faded and a scowl took it’s place.

In a messy scrawl on the side read the name, “DAVE” with a heart beside it.

God damn it.

…

He didn’t go back on purpose. It was for the sake of time, and the shop was fast, and Dean was in a hurry. He’d gotten a job for an old friend of his father’s. Ellen Harvelle. She’s heard about his passing, and through a few more sources, learned that Dean was sneaking into town to be closer to his brother. Sam already had his own life set up, but Dean was still building. She offered him a spot in her bar to get started. He’d taken it.

Now, he was running late and was several notches too low on caffeine to make it through his shift, so naturally it was an emergency. It was only chance that it was on his route to work.

When he stepped inside it was quieter than it was before. He took in the low rumble of activity and thanked God there was barely a line. He sighed in relief when he also noticed the blond from last time was nowhere to be seen.

Instead of the blond, a dark haired man around Dean’s age stood at the front counter. His stance was very different from the blond’s, where the other had been buoyant and carefree, this man seemed much more reserved. Dean appreciated it. He wasn’t in the mood for teasing winks or hearts on his cup that Jo would laugh at.

He made it to the front of the line, but before he could speak, the employee’s eyes widened and he held up a hand of silence.

“Same order?” The man asked. His voice sounded like a goddamn wreck. Did the dude eat rocks for breakfast? Daily?

“Uh, yeah,” Dean replied, unsure if he was more surprised to be remembered or the fact that the dude’s voice was the equivalent of a rocky landslide.

The other man didn’t speak again, only taking Dean’s card to pay, and then rushing away to fill the order. The wait was shorter this time. Dean smiled and nodded his thanks, then rushed out the door. He still had his shift to get to.

It was only after he walked through the doors of the Roadhouse that Jo pointed and snickered, “Who’s Dave?”

Dean cursed.

…

It started to become a routine. It was far from intentional. But it was on his route to work, and they were faster than most joints Dean had ever been too, so he just kept… going. He wondered if this was how it happened to everyone else. Becoming a regular. Because of god forsaken convenience. He hated it. Sort of.

Dean saw the blond a couple more times, but never at the front counter. If he was ever seen, he was usually hidden away in the back or helping serve up orders on the busy days. The dark haired one was nearly always in front, and he always remembered Dean. Or in his eyes, Dave. Dean still hadn’t corrected them yet.

How exactly was he supposed to fix that? Was he just supposed to say, “Oh by the way, my name’s Dean and you’ve been writing my name wrong for weeks.” He couldn’t just say that, could he? Should he? Damn it.

It was only made worse by the fact that Dean was coming in almost every day before shift, and he was starting to actually… notice things. Like how the shop always smelled more like baked treats and candy than coffee. Or how there were so many windows Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the indoor lights on.

He also couldn’t help but notice other things, too. Like the way the blond one was always glancing between him and the dark haired employee. Or how whenever the dark haired one turned to make Dean’s order, the blond one would wink and nudge the other playfully. The dark haired one always came back with the order, his cheeks a little more flushed than when he’d first turned away.

The dark haired one had startling blue eyes, too. He’d never really paid attention before. There was never any reason to. He wasn’t sure when he noticed either, only that once he did, it was all he really thought about. He’d catch himself looking at the sky and thinking it wasn’t nearly as blue as the ones looking back at him in that stupid shop.

It was starting to get ridiculous. He didn’t even know the guy’s name. The guy didn’t even know his name. How the fuck did that even happen?

“Dean, you’re zoning again,” Sam called, snatching Dean out of his thoughts.

Dean grumbled and looked at his brother. They were in Sam’s apartment, playing some new game Sam had been raving about for weeks. Meanwhile, Jess was out with friends and wasn’t due back for a few more hours. It was quality brotherly bonding time. Something Dean had sorely missed, and he couldn’t even stay focused on that.

“Sorry,” Dean muttered, shooting at an enemy soldier in the nick of time.

Sam was silent for several moments until the battle ended. Instead of starting up the next one, he nudged Dean with his elbow.

“Something goin’ on?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head and stretched out his legs, groaning as blood started rushing back to the feet he’d been sitting on for the past hour.

“Nah,” Dean replied. “Just tired. Pulled a double shift last night cause of some event at the Roadhouse. It paid good though.”

“Sure,” Sam nodded, humming. “Is that why you’ve been zoning out for the past two weeks?”

“What?” Dean snapped his gaze to meet his brother’s. “I haven’t been--”

“Uh, you have, Dean. Something’s bugging you. What gives?”

Dean sighed and glanced at the TV, their record kills glowing back at them.

“I don’t know,” he dodged. “Stupid stuff. Little stuff. It’s not a big deal.”

“Big enough for you to let me win? Like, all night?”

“I didn’t let you win.”

“So you admit I’m better than you?” Sam grinned. Dean scowled.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled, picking up his controller again. “There’s this dude at this dumb coffee shop--”

“The one that keeps getting your name wrong?”

“How’d you know?”

“Dean, every time I see you with a to-go cup it says DAVE on the side of it. All caps. Pretty sure that’s not your name, and you keep getting the same cup with the same name on it, so it’s definitely your order and you haven’t corrected them yet. How come?”

“God damn it,” Dean muttered. “Cause the guy remembers me every time I walk through the door and always has my order ready within a minute. And he’s super hot so it doesn’t make it easy to just--”

“Dude, he’s cute?”

“Uh, not just cute. Hot. Like burn-me-at-the-stake-and-I’d-be-okay-with-it kind of hot.”

“Nice,” Sam nodded, then furrowed his brow. “So you want to ask him out but he thinks your name is…” He snickered, “Dave?”

“Fuck me.”

“If you ask him nicely, maybe,” Sam replied. “But give him your actual name first.”

“Fuck off, Sammy,” Dean growled. “Now start the next round. I need to kill something.”

“Sure thing. As long as you promise to actually talk to this guy?”

“Fine. Fine. Start the game, damn it.”

…

This was stupid. God. Damn. Stupid.

Dean clenched his fist at his side and stared up at the coffee shop sign. Angel’s Touch. What the fuck kind of name was that? That should be the name of a strip club, not a goddamn coffee shop.

He took a deep breath and shoved his fists in his pockets. It was time to do this. He could do this. God damn it.

Another steeled breath, and he pushed through the doors. It was low in activity, as it often was at that hour. The blond was nowhere in sight, and only a few other patrons sat at tables around the shop.

Dean wandered up to the counter, thankful that the dark haired on was distracted with something near the back and hadn’t noticed him yet. Once he turned, however, Dean felt his resolve weaken at the other man’s intense blue gaze.

“Oh, hello,” the man smiled. It was small, but genuine. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a full-fledged smile from the guy. He kind of wanted to change that.

One thing at a time, Dean cursed to himself. He offered a thin smile back and braced his hands on the counter. Just be calm, man. Be calm.

“The usual?” The man offered.

“Uh, something different today, actually,” Dean replied. His palms were sweating. Fuck.

The other man’s smile grew slightly and a quizzical look crossed his features.

“Oh?” He asked. “What can I get for you?”

Dean licked his lips. He could feel his heart beating in his ears.

“I…” He started, paused. Fuck!

Finally, “Dean,” he wheezed.

“I’m sorry?” The man’s nose scrunched up in confusion. God fucking fuck. No. It’s not cute. Shut up, brain. Fuck.

“Dean,” he said again, louder this time. “Dean, not Dave. My name is Dean.”

The other man’s head tilted briefly, absorbing, then he froze. His eyes widened ever so slightly and his posture straightened.

“Oh.” He murmured. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Dean stated, dumbly. “Uh, yeah.”

“I apologize,” the other man continued, placing his hands against the counter as well. “I just… I saw Gabriel write your name down that day… I just thought… Oh fuck,” the man cursed and placed a hand over his eyes. “Of course. Of course Gabriel would write the wrong name. He does it for fun. Constantly. It’s why he’s not supposed to be up front, fuck--”

Dean’s face split into a grin. God damn it he could get used to hearing that voice say fuck. But then, reality sank back in and he quickly stammered, “Uh, no, no. It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to let you know, cause… you know.”

“What?” The other man lowered his palm, staring at him with that old head tilt.

“I,” Dean swallowed. Moment of truth. “I thought you should know. In case you said yes.”

“To what?”

“A date.” Dean’s jaw snapped shut. “With me,” he barely added.

The man’s eyes widened once more. Pink dusted his cheeks and he glanced around the room before looking back at Dean.

“A date.”

Dean nodded.

“You want me to go on a date.”

Another nod.

“With you.”

“You can say no,” Dean stammered out. The other man stared at him for several long moments. Dean shifted uncomfortably, trying not to let it get to him.

The man was damn near unreadable. Until, a tick of movement crossed his face, then a smile. It grew slowly, then burst wide all at once and Dean was blinded.

“Castiel.”

“What?” Dean managed.

“Or Cas. But my name is Castiel. I thought you should know. You did ask me on a date.”

“Castiel,” Dean said, grinning madly. “Nice. When do you get off work?”

Cas grinned back at him. “At eight.”

“Can I swing by and pick you up?”

Cas smirked and grabbed a cup and a sharpie. Dean watched with rapt attention until Cas handed it over.

In bold, black letters, in all caps, read the word, “DEAN.” Below it was a string of numbers. With a heart at the end.

Before Dean could speak, Cas stated, “Text me. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m off for the night.”

Dean beamed. “I will. Count on it.”

Cas grinned back, the pink settling to a rosy hue. Dean doubted he looked any different.

“See you tonight,” Cas replied.

Dean didn’t even make it to his car before he sent off the text. He didn’t have to wait a minute before the reply text came.

“I owe Gabriel ten bucks. He said you’d make the first move.”

“What did you bet?” Dean texted back.

“That you wouldn’t at all.”

“I’ll pitch in five bucks.”

“Don’t encourage him.”

Dean laughed and climbed into his car.

“You know, I never thought I’d be a regular at a coffee shop.”

“I’m glad you are.”

“Me too.”

He never did buy that damn coffee machine. But he did keep the cup.