50 Last Dates

Dean let the wet rag swirl over the counter, inching closer to the far left corner with each swipe. His eyes were trained on the two tall men sitting 15 feet away from his position, at one of the small tables. He could see both their profiles and from the look of it, the brown haired, younger man didn’t seem to be all too happy.

The dark haired, scruffy guy leaned forward and tried to take the other man’s hands, but he pulled them away in a rather over dramatic gesture. Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, it was one of those guys.

“Is it the fifth dude he’s dumping or the sixth? In what, five months? Your crush is a heartbreaker.”

Dean jumped a little and threw his towel at the small redhead behind him.

“For the love of...Stop sneaking up on me, Charlie!” He resumed his cleaning and ignored her pouting face completely, trying hard to focus on the personal drama unfolding in front of him. A sharp pain shot through his shin.

“Did you just kick me? Ouch! What the freck, woman?”

Charlie turned his head with a surprisingly strong, one handed grip to his cheeks.

“Listen, loverboy, I know blue eyes there is kind of dreamy, but he only ever shows up here to get rid of his latest boyfriend.”

It was hard to talk with squished lips, but Dean didn’t dare to remove her fingers.

“He does not! He gets a coffee to go now and then, in between, you know, relationships.”

Charlie dropped her hand and Dean massaged his aching face.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay? You are like the big brother I never wanted and that man smells like trouble.”

Dean wanted to object, he smelled like cinnamon and watermelon, not that he’d sniffed the guy, that would be creepy, ahaha, but he better kept that info to himself.

“Listen, Charlie, it’s not like I wanna date him, I’ve had opportunities to ask him out, let that old Winchester charme work its magic.” He winked but Charlie seemed utterly unimpressed.

“I just don’t wanna be the rebound guy or a feel good hook up. Dude comes in for more than a month without a new conquest,” he pointed his thumbs at his chest and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “it’s gonna be on like donkey kong.”

Charlie sighed, took the rag from his hands and shoved him towards the sitting area.

“You are as useful to me right now as a room of Ferengi at a charity auction. Go, take your heart eyes and take a break, just don’t be so obvious, okay?”

Dean beamed at her and gave her a kiss on the crown of her head.

“You’re the best, Charlie. Sam hasn’t allowed me to watch my shows for months,” he thought back to the time his little brother had walked in on him, let’s say, enthusiastically greeting Dr. Sexy with his eleventh finger and shuddered, “for no good reason at all. This is the only soap action I get.”

“Ugh, that’s á nasty thought. Now go, before it’s over, boyfriend already seems to be level 5 pissed.”

Dean snatched a cup of coffee and a copy of the National Enquirer Charlie kept or around “for funnsies” and made his way over to the table next to the now bickering couple. He arranged his seat so that he could see both their profiles and hid behind his paper.

“I don’t understand, Castiel. I thought things between us were good! Hell, isn’t the sex the most amazing experience you’ve ever had?”

Dean took a sip of his black coffee. Scruff’s name was Castiel, interesting. Castiel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.