Dean has been working at Bobby’s auto shop since dropping out of high school. He needed money for Sam’s tuition, but the kid is all grown up with a fancy house and a wife, and at this point, Dean is feeling left behind and in a total rut.
Everyone is worried about him; the guy wakes up at 5am, gets into work by 6, then spends the whole day working before going home, microwaving himself a TV dinner, and conking out in front of the boob tube. He’s stopped passing by the Roadhouse. He’s stopped going to Charlie’s game nights. He’s lucky if he feels up to watching porn before falling face first onto his mattress.
The only silver lining Dean sees in his fantastically empty life is the fact that his 84 year-old neighbour finally moves into a retirement home, putting an end to all the complaints about how loud Dean walks in his apartment.
Enter Castiel. Castiel is a travel blogger who recently decided to settle down close to his family. He’s thirty-six, vibrant, and ready to be the best Uncle ever to his twin’s newly arrived baby. He takes shifts at an independent bookstore while trying to find work as a journalist.
He also has little to no boundaries, so when he sees some guy in his building come home with a veritable stack of Lean Cuisine meals, he makes note of where the poor bastard lives and ding dong ditches a tupperware of pad see ew.
It smells so goddamn good Dean eats the whole thing.
This continues for a good couple of weeks before Dean manages to catch the hot dude keeping him properly fed. At which point, he rudely asks the guy if he can make anything other than weird-ass ethnic food. When hot guy raises a brow, Dean clears his throat and, blushing, asks him over for an all-american meal.
This kicks off a series of dates-that-are-not-dates which mostly involve hanging out and eating good food and watching movies. It turns out that Dean really likes to cook, and it turns out that all of Cas’s ethnic recipes are authentic.
Dean really likes listening to Castiel talk, and Cas, for some reason, seems to enjoy Dean’s lame stories, too. Cas, it turns out, is actually amazing for Dean. He pushes him to become an engineer. They go out to fancy restaurants, and go to the movies, and go on weekend road trips just because they can.
It’s on one of these road trips that Dean kisses Cas: just fresh from brushing his teeth, backlit by shitty motel lighting and wearing cookie monster boxer briefs.
Summary: Cas loves working on the Impala whenever she comes to his shop, no matter the questions he has about the owner.
warnings: Mechanic!Cas, implied as normal verse besides the fact that Cas is a mechanic, flirting, Destiel
word count: ~1425
Cas hears her before he sees her, the rumbling of the engine distinct and beautiful. He loves when she comes to visit, always making sure that it’s him on her case and not one of his employees. He wipes his hands on a spare towel, one that’s already covered in grease and probably doesn’t do much to help his hands get clean, but whatever. He pulls himself away from the (comparatively very boring) 2009 Jetta and walks toward the open garage door.
There she comes, turning carefully into the drive. Her grill is dirty, the wheel wells caked with mud. She’s not a car that should go off-roading, but it seems that’s what’s happened lately.
Cas figures something happened to the undercarriage, starts thinking back through everything he knows about the beauty.
The 1967 Chevrolet Impala comes to a stop just a few feet in front of him, the equally handsome driver giving a half smile through the window. He cuts the engine, the air around them becoming much quieter without the roar of the engine sounding.
The door squeaks as the driver gets out, but Cas knows better than to oil it. Gives her character, the driver has said. Character is something this car could never be rid of, but Cas has left the squeaky door alone.
“Heya, Cas,” he says, shutting the door. “Been a while.”
How Well Does the Supernatural Cast Know Sam’s Hair?
Jensen: (While looking at all hairstyles of Sam) “It’s just gorgeous”
Also this:
Jared: (to Jensen) “Hundred percent!” Jensen: “Well I would hope so, it’s you! I mean the amount of time you look in the mirror I would hope you know what you looked like!”
Part 16/24: Chrysalism noun 1. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm
The rain started up about ten miles south of St Louis. At
first it was just a light patter sprinkling against the windshield, but it
quickly grew to a downpour that blurred the entire road. It took Castiel several
minutes and a near-miss with a minivan before he finally found the correct knob
for the windshield wipers in his new, pilfered station wagon.
It’s his fifth car today. He left the bunker in an old Cadillac
from the garage, but abandoned it in a parking lot the moment he hit Phillipsburg.
From there he jimmied the lock on an SUV and headed west into Colorado, then switched
to a little coup and doubled back east. He swapped the coup out for a rusty
pickup in Wichita, then promptly dumped it and hopped a bus from Springfield to
Jefferson City.
Despite everything, Castiel is grateful for all he’s learned
from Sam and Dean over the years. Now he knows how not to be found.
Karate, SPN Demonic Octopus Guardian 