Rifle Scissor Stone

Chapter 2

Castiel got ready in a hurry the next morning, drinking a cup of coffee as he did so, and hurriedly got dressed in his favorite suit. He examined himself in the mirror almost sadly, wishing he could dress casually, as he tied the blue tie around his neck. He grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys, stuffed them in his pocket, and went out the door. Already late, Castiel thought with a long sigh. 

As he stepped out of the car at the cafe, Castiel inhaled deeply. Petrichor. It was one of his favorite smells, and it was prominent this morning. He looked up at the sky and smiled when he saw the grey clouds floating above him. A hand settled on his shoulder and he turned his head back down and to the side quickly, being greeted with green eyes and a wide smile. 

"Castiel," Dean sighed, and Cas felt his own lips turn in a smile. Dean's voice was scratchy, yet smooth, and was deep. It was alluring. "Or did I just butcher that?"

"If you want to you can call me Cas," he replied, hands in his pockets. "I don't mind. Just refrain from Cassie, I hear that enough."

"Cassie? You're not even close to feminine enough for that nickname. I'll stick with Cas." Dean paused, hand still on Castiel's shoulder. Castiel bit the inside of his lip, enjoying the warmth that it was spreading through his body. What he didn't like was the stupid fluttering in his stomach. It made him feel like he'd eaten a live bird. "Should we- uh- go inside?" 

Castiel nodded, a smile still on his lips. "Let's go."

"So, you're heading to work after this?" Dean asked as Castiel opened the door and held it for him, smiling as a thank you. 

"Yeah, sadly," Castiel sighed. "I'm guessing you are too? I mean, if your clothes are anything to go by." He gestured to Dean, who was dressed in khaki pants, brown loafers, and a red, white, yellow and blue plaid shirt. A lopsided grin cut into freckled cheeks. "I'll take that as a yes," Castiel laughed softly, then elbowed Dean gently. "What do you want?"

Dean looked up at the chalkboard that had all of the drinks written in various colors, finally ordering a plain black coffee. Castiel ordered the same thing, pulling out his wallet and paying for both before Dean could pay for his own. That earned him a strange look from the lighter haired man, and Castiel shrugged in response as he put his wallet in his pocket again. He thanked the barista for the coffees and handed Dean his, grabbing three sugar packets from the wire basket on the counter and looking to Dean, who smiled and headed toward the table in the far corner. They took their seats- Dean by the wall, Castiel across from him, and smiled at each other for a second before both looking away. Dean took a sip of his coffee before looking back at Castiel, and Castiel could feel his eyes on his every move as he poured the sugar into his coffee and stirred it slowly. 

"Why did you pay for me?" Dean asked suddenly, making Castiel look up. 

"I felt like it," Castiel shrugged slightly, smiling slightly as he rested one arm on the edge of the table in front of him, elbow next to his fingers, leverage as he stirred his coffee. "It's no big deal. It was, what, three dollars?" 

"Yeah," Dean shook his head slightly, still smiling. "Still."

"It was simple, Dean," Castiel smiled, tapping the stirring stick on the edge of the cup. He licked the coffee off of it and set it on the table, replacing the lid on the cup. "Just something I wanted to do, kind of like you watching me pour the sugar in my coffee and stirring it. Simple." 

Dean squinted slightly at him and laughed, and as soon as it tumbled off of his lips Castiel knew he liked the sound. It was hypnotizing, Dean's laugh. It drew him in and flattened any sadness he may have had in mind. A grin blossomed on his face just before he took a sip of coffee, holding the plastic cup with both hands now. He looked down, then looked back up at Dean through his eyelashes, seeing Dean grinning at him, head tilted. "Did you really just do that?"