#dean WOULD accidentally order a ton of flour

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

one call away

(a silly soulmate au drabble that exists purely bc of a prompt from @haybibiboi you’re welcome :P)

Castiel Novak hates his job. 

Every day, he answers return calls for Costco. He gets to customers after they’ve been screened for what they want, he goes, “This is Castiel with Costco, you pressed three for returns. How may I help you?” and then people yell at him for about fifteen minutes. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Today is no different. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair--he gets off in less than two hours, and then he can go back to his apartment and finish the historical drama he’s reading right now. He fiddles with the buttons on the cuffs of his dress shirt--all of the other guys wear polos, but Castiel’s soul mark hasn’t vanished yet, and it’s a bit, well, vulgar.

Everyone’s got soul marks until they speak to their soulmate, on the inside of their wrist--the first words your soulmate will say to you. His friends had things like “Can I get that door for you?” or “Nice weather, huh?” or “Oh, you like Nirvana, too?” 

Castiel’s is very different.

It’s “Oh thank FUCK!” with the fuck capitalized, as if the person is grateful for whatever’s happening. 

But still.

He finishes up a frustrating call with a woman who can’t understand why the apples she already ate can’t be returned, and then his phone immediately rings again, and he answers it dully, “This is Castiel with Costco, you pressed three for returns. How may I help you?”

It sounds like the person on the other end of the line drops something, and then the voice says, “Oh thank FUCK!” 

Castiel registers a couple of things at once. First, it sounds like a guy, and a guy with a really nice voice, at that. Second--he pulls up his sleeve to make sure--this guy is his soulmate?

He tunes into the fact that the guy is still talking, “Jesus Christ, I thought I’d never find you.”

“D-do you actually have a return?” Castiel asked, “Or have you just been calling people nonstop to see if I’d answer?”

“I do actually have a return, Castiel. Can I call you Cas? It just seems better. Anyways, I--”

“What’s your name?” Cas interrupts him.

“Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Casti-Cas Novak.”

“Dude, I love your name. It’s amazing. I’d love it even if you weren’t my soulmate.” Dean clears his throat, “So, you’re not gonna believe this....but I accidentally ordered 200 ten-pound buckets of flour.”

“You did what?!” Cas nearly drops the phone, “How?”

“That is an excellent question. So, do you think you can help me figure out how to return them? Also, do you actually live in Oklahoma City? It had me input my zipcode--”

“...Why is that important?”

“Because I���m about to ask you not only to help me get rid of 2,000 goddamn pounds of flour, but also go to on a date with me.” He can hear in Dean’s voice that he’s grinning.

Cas can’t help it--he’s grinning too. “Fine,” he says, “I do live in Oklahoma City. And I will go on a date with you, as long as you only return 1,990 pounds of that flour. Do you like to bake?”

“I suppose?”

“I could make you a pie.”

“Holy shit, you really are my soulmate,” Dean says, “Yeah, I think I can keep one bucket of flour.”