Oneshots.

missed flight (destiel)

inspired vaguely by misha collins's level orange video which is GREAT (it's above if you wanna watch, I totally recommend it^^) 

this was written in a bit of a hurry, so I apologize for the lack of quality.

If only Dean hadn't missed that damned flight, then he wouldn't be stuck here for the rest of the night.

+ + + + +

"Sir."

Dean flinches when he feels a firm hand on his shoulder, a loud groan escapes his lips. 

"Sir, please wake up."

Dean forces his eyes open and squints, trying to adjust his vision. There's a man standing over him, a stern look on his face. "What time is it?" He grumbles, examining the funny little guy that he can now identify as someone from the front desk.

"It's one a.m., sir." 

Dean's eyes are open very widely now, and he sits straight up in the uncomfortable chair. "Excuse me? Did you just say one a.m.?"

"That's right."

"Fuck." Dean growls. He can almost swear that the man smirks at his comment, but Dean just brushes it off. They seem to be the only two in the very large room. "When's the next flight to Detroit?"

The guy flips through some papers clipped neatly on a clipboard, then finally appears to have found what he's looking for. "Eight in the morning," He says. Dean groans loudly, rubbing some of the exhaustion from his face with his hands. Tonight's going to be a long night. "You've got to be kidding me." He mumbles to himself.

"Look, is there anything you can do? It's Christmas Eve."

"Unfortunately, no. If you're going to Detroit, your flight left approximately," he checks his watch. "Two hours ago."

Dean scowls. His luck can't be any worse. Of all days of the year it has to be today. He's supposed to be spending the holdiays with Sam and Jess. It seems his plans are going to have to change. "Can I sleep here?" Dean asks. The desk guy looks quite annoyed to be asked such a question, and he closes his eyes in exhasperation. "If you must."

"Is there a problem?"

In fact, there is a problem. Chuck, Castiel's boss, had previously promised him that if there was no one left in the lobby tonight, Castiel would be able to go home for Christmas Eve. Someone has to work the shift tonight, and Castiel had been loaded with the job. And now, because this idiot has overslept, he's stuck in the airport with him.

"Looks like the two of us will be stuck here tonight." He says, looking about as unhappy as Dean feels.

Dean scoffs. "Well sorry to disappoint you, pal." He reaches for the cell from his pocket and dials Sam's number.

"You've reached Sam Winchester. Leave a message and I'll call you as soon as I can."

Sam must already be asleep. Dean scowls in aggravation as he begins to leave a voicemail. "Hey, Sammy. I fell asleep in the lobby and missed my flight. I'm going to be stuck here until morning. I'll be by sometime in the afternoon. I'm alone with a grumpy desk boy, so try not to have too much fun without me."

Dean hangs up and shoves the phone back in his pocket. 

"Grumpy." Castiel scoffs. He's quite positive that this guy here wouldn't be Mr. Sunshine if he were stuck working in an airport all night.

Dean just rolls his eyes at the comment while the guy's back is turned. 'Grumpy' is a very accurate term in his opinion, especially considering the way the desk boy is stalking back off to his desk.

Dean closes his eyes again in an attempt to go back to sleep, but he can't shake the prickling on the back of his neck that tells him he's being watched. And every time he opens his eyes again, his suspicions are confirmed when he's met with the glare of the man behind the desk.

'Castiel' is what the name tag pinned to his chest reads. He has a couple other badges and random tags on the thin blue material that his shirt is made of, matched with black pants and nice shoes. His hair is a dark sort of brown, and his eyes are a very pretty shade of blue that would rival the depth of the ocean. Dean might even descibe the guy as being kind of cute, if it wasn't for the death stare he was giving him, and the way he seems to make Dean's blood boil so easily with the simplest of comments.

"If you would rather go home than sit in a stuffy airport, no one's stopping you," Dean says finally, after opening his tired eyes to find the guy staring him down once again. "And to be completely honest with you, I can't stand another minute of you glaring at me from behind your desk."

"I could talk to my manager and cancel your next flight right now, then call security to hightail your ass out of here. You should show me some respect." Castiel's voice drops to a very low octave, which is what usually happens when he's trying to sound intimidating. The man who's freely lounging around in the lobby chair, however, doesn't look very intimidated at all. 

Dean just chuckles. "Loosen up. I'm giving you permission to leave. You don't want to be here, and I don't want you here. It's as simple as that."

Castiel just scoffs. "I don't need your permission. Besides, I'm not in the mood to get fired the day before Christmas. I suggest you mind your own business and go back to sleep." 

Dean just shrugs, a smirk on his lips. He has a feeling that he's getting on this Castiel guy's nerves just as much as Castiel getting on Dean's nerves. And he's pretty sure he was bluffing about calling security. Either way, this isn't how Dean had pictured spending Christmas Eve - locked up in an airport with a rude desk guy. Even though he really isn't into the whole "holiday spirit" type of thing, he would definitely rather be with his brother right now.

"Got any family to go home to for the holidays?" Dean asks. He's a little surprised with himself for making conversation with a stranger - especially a rude stranger, but he can't seem to help himself. It's almost like he wants the funny man to look at him and talk to him.

You know when you meet a person, and you automatically feel like you need to get to know them on an extremely personal level? That's how Dean feels as he stares at Cas from across the room.

Castiel is also pretty surprised that this guy is talking to him. After all, he was pretty rude to him in the first place. He waits for a split second, staring at him, expecting the guy to laugh and say that he doesn't really care about what Castiel has to say. But that's not what happens at all, in fact, he continues to wait for Castiel to reply to his question.

"No," He answers plainly. "Not really."

"So wait a minute," Dean says with a laugh. "You're in such a hurry to go home, and there's no one waiting for you?" He regrets saying this almost immediately. It sounds so insensitive out loud, when in all honesty he's just curious. "No, there's not," Castiel snaps. "And frankly, I don't think that's any of your business."

"I didn't mean it like that." Dean quickly replies, trying to mend his mistake. "I'm sorry."

Just when Dean is thinking about trying to fall asleep again to reduce some of the tension in the room, the desk boy's voice breaks the silence. "And what about you? Who are you going home to? Parents? Girlfriend?" Dean laughs, particularly at the last part of the question.

"A boyfriend, then?" The guy asks again.

Dean only smiles somewhat secretively. "No. Just my brother and his girlfriend."

Dean could swear to seeing a small smile in Castiel's lips, and possibly a glint in his eyes. "Well, goodnight." Cas says. "Goodnight." Dean replies.

+ + + + +

The next morning, Dean wakes up very early to the noise of the alarm set on his phone. There isn't a grumpy blue-eyed guy behind the desk anymore, but on the chair beside him there is, in fact, a small slip of white paper with a phone number on it.

Castiel's name is scribbled in black letters on the top corner.