Ready for the Fall // Destiel

Ready for Everything That I Believed in to Drift Away

Per usual, it's destiel (Supernatural)

Mind the typos

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Glancing at his watch for the fifteenth time that day, Dean notes the time is quarter to four; also known as Vanilla Bean Frappuccino with a double shot of vanilla and soy milk time. He waits with the drink in his hand until the man rushes in the door, tan trench coat soaked through from the brutal rain outside.

"Hello, Dean." The man greets the second the door is closed, blocking off the noises of everyday New York. Graciously, he accepts his drink, frowning at the name written on it.

"What?" Dean innocently asks, fighting to keep the grin off his face.

"Cas?"

"Yeah, and?"

"My name is Castiel." He states, taking a sip from the specially picked, bumblebee patterned straw, before meeting Dean's eyes and sheepishly smiling. "But I don't mind. You're the first to ever use it."

"Good, Cas, 'cause I wouldn't have stopped." Dean sharply replies, before noting how unusually dead the coffee shop is, with only one person chomping on a doughnut in the corner. Winking and holding up a finger to shush the man in front of him, he slips off his apron and slides over the countertop; grabbing the previously bagged, chocolate dip doughnuts on the way.

"That's unsanitary," Cas remarks, "I hope there's someone to clean that."

"Yeah, Benny's working too." Dean replies, shrinking down at the glare that his best friend/co-worker throws his way. "Or me, y'know."

Cas laughs and saunters over to their table, shedding his drenched coat and plopping down in the chair opposite Dean's. He's soaked through to his white shirt and blue tie underneath, but doesn't seem to be complaining about it.

"So," Dean starts, placing the doughnuts on the counter and grabbing one for himself, "how's life treating you?"

"The usual, I suppose." Cas replies thoughtfully, sipping his drink again. "I have my exams coming up next month."

"Really?" Dean can't help but cringe at the shrill level his voice reaches, "Will you still be coming in every day after you're done, or?"

Cas purses his lips, resting his chin on his hand. Since he started school, four years ago, he's been coming in for coffee every day after his classes. Around the tail end of the first year, he started receiving the Castiel Discount; A.K.A a complimentary doughnut. Half way through the second, Dean and a second doughnut came with it. "I'm not sure yet, I might be moving."

"Oh." Dean tries to hide his disappointment, but at Cas' gentle smile he feels his heart drop. He's going to miss seeing that smile every day.

"Unless you want me to, I can still drop in for coffee on weekends." He offers, interrupting Dean's depressing thoughts. "Or we can just meet up somewhere that isn't a Starbucks."

"Something that isn't-oh, like one of our houses?" Dean excitedly asks, before dropping his voice to keep his cool exterior in place. "Yeah, that sounds awesome." Before he can say something else stupid, he jams the rest of his doughnut into his mouth.

"Excellent. I'll call you when my exams are over with in that case, and we can get together." Cas stirs his drink with a mischievous smile, before meeting Dean's eyes. "But that would require me acquiring your number first."

It takes a grand total of four and a half seconds before Dean clues in, eagerly fishing out his phone and handing it to the man in front of him. Cas types so quickly the second he has it in his hand, he's done adding himself as a contact and is sneaking a picture on Dean's phone.

"What are you doing?" Dean narrows his eyes at Cas, who's currently in the most elaborate selfie position, full lips pushed out to resemble some sort of waterfowl.

"Well, you need a contact photo for me."

"And that's the ideal face?"

"I have seen plenty of teenage girls use this face, I can assure you it's ideal." Castiel sharply replies, handing the phone back. "And besides, you have a pink iPhone, I'm sure no one will say anything."

"I liked the colour." Dean grumbles, as he tucks it away, surprised when Cas laughs so low it's almost a growl. Almost.

"That's fine. I never said I didn't." He states, laughing quietly again. "But I would recommend a phone case."

"Why?" Dean defensively puts his hand over his phone. "Mine's done well enough without one."

"Lucky." Cas holds out what must be his phone, shattered to Hell and back. Spider web cracks run along the length of the screen, and larger chunks missing reveal the motherboard underneath.

"Holy crap, Cas!" Dean exclaims, nodding politely at the doughnut munching man in the corner when he looks up, before dropping his voice. "What did you do?"

"Tried to run and catch the bus." He shrugs, tossing his phone up. "Couldn't make it but my phone did, sliding right into a home run, under the friggen front tire."

"Really?" Dean smiles a bit, secretly enjoying learning about the little things that make up Castiel. "I took you as such a neat freak and perfectionist that you'd never be late for anything, let alone have your phone without a case."

"Oh bite me, Dean." The blue eyed man sticks out his tongue, and Dean can't help but notice how involuntarily he smiles back, or how his heart skips a beat.

They fall into silence for a few seconds, before Dean speaks up, "Only if you buy me dinner first."

"Well that seems like an illogical reaction." Castiel points out, "You don't bite the hand that feeds you."

"Not unless you're super kinky."

Cas narrows his eyes, before shrugging. "Well, you're not wrong."

Dean winks, completely ready to never let this  conversation end, before two, then three, then four, and eventually five people walk in, discussing the types of coffee available.

"I'm going to take that as my cue." Cas says sadly, pushing his chair back.

"Yeah," Dean copies him, pushing the remaining doughnut towards Cas. "For you."

"Thank you Dean, without-"

Before he can finish his sentence he's being pulled into a hug, his mind completely going blank as he's enveloped in warm arms and the smell of coffee mixed with Dean. Instantly, he wraps his arms around the slightly taller man, burrowing his face in his shoulder in the most un-platonic way possible.

They remain in that position for seven seconds, considerably longer than any friendly hug should last, but neither particularly wants to let go.