Chapter Text
Dean had a love/hate relationship with his job.
Sure, he got great tips when he wore his skin tight black shirt and jeans that hugged his ass like it was their job. The tips were decent, making just enough to support himself and his brother, Sam, who was in his last year of college. And let's face it, Dean is hot and he knows it. With a wink and a crooked smile he can land anyone he wants for the night.
But that's the thing. Dean was looking for more than a one night stand. Obviously hooking up most nights was great, but lately he just felt like he wanted more.
More for himself. More for Sam. More money wouldn't be bad either. But for now, working at the The Garrison wasn't all that bad. The regulars knew him by name (and reputation), he was friends with most of his co-workers, and his boss gave him the best hours for making tips. He'd met Gabriel three years ago when he stumbled in the club with Sam, celebrating the fact that he was accepted into Stanford college. Gabriel told him he'd make a killing with those green eyes and freckles and who was Dean to refuse a decent job?
So, that's where Dean finds himself now. Behind the bar slinging beers and vodka tonics to bachelorette parties and college kids.
"Woo-wee, Dean-o! You spend your last paycheck at Baby Gap?"
Dean smirks and keeps his eyes on the beer he's currently pouring. "Jealous, Gabe?"
Gabriel blows a raspberry and pats Dean's back as he passes behind the man. "Please. I could rock a mesh tank top if I wanted to."
"Please, for the love of god," Dean rolls his head back as he flips the handle of the tap up, "spare me the visual." He slides the foaming glass to a pretty woman with long black hair with a wink. She hands him a twenty dollar bill and purrs "Keep the change, handsome."
"Thanks, sweetheart," Dean responds, letting his fingers linger on hers a moment too long before turning to the register.
Gabriel shook his head and tucked his hair behind his ear. "So, Dr. Feel Good, how's that brother of yours? Gettin' all lawyered up?"
Dean smiled wide while stuffing the change in his tip jar. "Hell yeah. He's just about done. Already got a firm lined up that wants him to work for 'em."
"No shit," Gabriel crossed his arms and leaned against the bar. "Must be good."
"He better be. I ain't payin' his tuition for him to fuck off and get wasted every night." Dean grabbed a rag and wiped down the bar, shoving Gabriel out of the way. "Not that he would, though. He's a fucking nerd."
"A six-foot-two tall drink of water nerd," Gabriel sighed, looking off into space. "How the hell're you two related?"
"Would you get the fuck outta here? I'm tryin' to get tips and you're scarin' off all the customers with your weird ass." Dean flicked the wet rag at the other man and ushered him out from behind the bar.
"Oh please," Gabriel snorted, grabbing a bottle of peach Schnapps off the counter before rounding the bar. "You bat those pretty little lashes and you're rolling in it."
"Not lately," Dean mumbled. "I've been thinkin', you should be doin' theme nights. Get some new customers in here."
"I resent that," a voice slurred at the end of the bar.
Dean rolled his eyes and walked over, taking an empty glass off the bar.
"You know we love you Chuck," Dean cooed, refilling the mans glass. "But, couldn't hurt to try it for a week or two."
Gabriel poured himself a shot and swirled the liquid. "Not a bad idea, Winchester." He drank the shot and drummed his fingers on the bar. "Gimmie a list by the end of the week and I'll see what I can put together."
Dean nodded, trying to his his smile as he slid the refreshed beer to Chuck.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dean tossed his keys in a ceramic bowl as he kicked his door shut behind him. His eyelids were heavy and his feet were sore. Working til three am most mornings took its toll.
He flopped down on his couch as he toed off his shoes. Unbuckling his belt, he pulled it through the loops of his jeans before wriggling and shoving them down to his ankles.
"Fuckin' skinny jeans," he grunted once he was free of them.
He laid his head back on the cushions and sighed, closing his tired eyes. Of course that's when his phone decided to beep at him. He groaned and leaned forward, patting blindly at the denim pile at his feet. Finally retrieving it, he opened the lock screen and read the message.
From: Douchewad
There was a guy in here tonight that asked about you after you left. Said he might have some work for you
Dean squinted his eyes at the screen.
From: Dean
Not a hooker, Gabe
From: Douchewad
You sure dress like one, maybe that's what caught his eye ;)
From: Dean
you gettin to a point anytime soon?
From: Douchewad
I've seen him around the club once or twice. Good lookin' guy, even better connections. Was asking if you were available
From: Dean
I don't date customers
From: Douchewad
I didn't get the impression he's lookin for a date. The dude is loaded, I'm thinkin' it's more of a "You fuck me, I pay for your brothers student loans" kinda deal
"This can't be real," Dean mumbled to himself.
From: Dean
Ha-ha. Goodnight, Gabriel.
He groaned as he stood up, heading for the bathroom. Bed sounded heavenly right now but Dean needed to scrub the smell of beer and sweat off his skin. He lumbered his way into the bathroom and turned the handle and letting the water warm up. He sat on the toilet lid in his boxers rubbing his eyes when his phone chimed again.
From: Douchewad
I gave him your number.
Dean half groaned, half yelled up to the bathrooms ceiling fan.
From: Dean
Goddamn it Gabe! You can't go around giving out my number!
From: Douchewad
Why? You give it to every Tom Dick and Henrietta that comes into the club.
Dean was in the middle of typing out a text that would most likely get him fired when his phone chimed again, this time with a number he didn't recognize.
From: Unknown
I apologize in advance, and I realize this is a bit unorthodox, but I got your number from your employer Gabriel. I was interested in talking to you about a job prospect that I think would benefit the both of us. You can reach me at this number anytime, day or night. Goodnight. -Castiel Novak
Dean stared at his phone as the bathroom filled with steam. This was real. Really real. Gabriel wasn't fucking with him. He mulled it over as reread the text while biting his fingernails.
"Fuck it." He tapped the phone icon at the top of the screen.
Listening to the phone ring was terrifying and exciting at the same time.
The ringing stopped. There was rustling at the other end for a moment. He briefly heard someone or something panting.
"Uh, hello?" Dean tried to keep his voice steady as he jiggled his leg up and down nervously.
The noise stopped and he heard someone clear their throat.
"Hello, Dean."