Chapter Text
Exiting the elevator, Dean hummed as he stepped into the office building, mentally reviewing his to-do list for the day. It was another Monday in corporate America, which meant another day of regretting his weekend choices, begrudgingly finishing up tasks he had put off on Friday, and wondering what one-night stands would soon develop between his coworkers.
(Okay, maybe that last one was a game only he and Charlie engaged in.)
As Dean approached the back of the office, he adjusted his shoulder bag over his jacket, wincing at the force it shoved into his side. He supposed that if his past self learned that he ended up pursuing corporate life and wore an obnoxious leather bag, he would have been disappointed; but Dean, years older and wiser (despite what Sam said), now understood it had its perks. Having a corporate job often meant long and boring meetings, in addition to annoying office politics and interactions that often raised Dean’s blood pressure. However, it also provided him with a roof over his head, groceries, internet, and enough money to care for his loved ones.
Most importantly, it provided enough disposable income to annoy his younger brother.
“Mornin’, Charlie,” Dean greeted as he entered the employee lounge, giving her a wink as he adjusted his shoulder bag again. The lounge was empty save for the two of them, freezing cold just as it always was in the early hours of the workday, with the promising smell of coffee wafting the air. Dean glanced at the large white table in the middle of the lounge, where a familiar dark blue thermos sat. Perfect.
Charlie raised an eyebrow at him as she leaned against the counter, her hand pausing from dipping her tea bag in her Star Wars mug. Under her suspicious eyes were dark shadows, and Dean felt a brief pang of sympathy for his friend. “What’s with the formal greeting, Winchester? I know for a fact you’ve still got an elevated BAC from Saturday, because I still feel like absolute shit.”
Dean shot her his most winning smile, teeth and all. It was the one he often used on clients, beautiful women, and handsome men, and he was fully aware it had no effect on the hungover redhead. “Don’t know what you mean. Unlike some people, I know how to hold my liquor at a Bradbury DnD campaign.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Charlie warned and conspicuously pulled her mug closer to herself. “If you’re planning on insulting or poisoning someone today, it’s not gonna be me.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “That was months ago, and it wasn’t a poisoning, just, maybe Zachariah should’ve publicly advertised he was allergic to hazelnuts.” He crossed his arms. “Besides, he didn’t even drink it, never found out. No harm, no foul.”
“Yeah, you’re lucky Novak stopped him,” Charlie said as she steeped her tea bag before tossing it into the trash. “I swear, that man has the nose of a bloodhound.”
Dean scoffed, but he knew Charlie was right. He had thought he was performing a kind gesture his first week on the job by grabbing coffee for their boss, Zachariah Adler. The man was an uptight killjoy, always insisting on keeping a “private bubble” for his own lunchbox and keeping it separate from others’ food in the fridge. Dean had thought that being greeted to a steaming cup of coffee from the downstairs coffee shop would’ve brought a smile to Mr. Adler’s face (and everyone else’s, as the asshat’s mood always hung like a dark cloud over everyone whenever he was pissed).
The coffee shop had been advertising a new “heavenly hazelnut wonder” drink that week, and Dean had the cup signed “for our boss” before placing it in the lounge. As soon as Zachariah had lifted the coffee cup to his lips, Castiel Novak in accounting had noticed the sweet and nutty smell and had stopped him, somehow convincing Adler the coffee was meant for him instead. Zachariah had been insufferable all day, complaining about how no one appreciated him enough to bring him coffee.
Well, at least Dean knew enough of Sam’s medical history to know he wasn’t allergic to decaffeinated coffee.
Dean shrugged off his shoulder bag, hanging it on one of the lounge chairs. “How was I supposed to know being allergic to hazelnuts meant you couldn’t drink hazelnut milk?”
A small smirk formed on Charlie’s lips. “That’s literally what having a nut allergy means, Dean.”
“Anyways,” Dean continued on, “I promise my gifts are now medical-friendly. No one breakin’ out into hives or anything,” he said, and raised a hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“Gifts, yeah, okay,” Charlie’s smirk widened, and she waved her hand as she started walking towards the lounge door. “Save it for someone who’ll listen, Winchester. By the way, keep an eye on Benny and Garth, I think there’s something developing there.”
“I’m serious!” he called out to her retreating back.
“So am I!”
Dean chuckled before glancing once more over his shoulder. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he pulled his bag's zipper open and pulled out the decaf instant coffee mix.
Dean figured there were perks to working alongside his little brother, the primary of which was getting to see him at work. As head of communications, Dean worked closely with Celestial Cards’ human resources department, which included none other than the younger Winchester. He enjoyed being able to work with Sam, and Dean often felt a rush of pride whenever he got to see his younger brother in his element. Rather than boost his own self-esteem, Dean never missed the chance to gloat over Sam’s successes.
Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t mess with the Sasquatch from time to time.
Dean whistled as he plucked the dark blue thermos off the lounge table and unscrewed the lid, dumping out its contents down the employee lounge sink. He had been planning this prank ever since Sam started geeking over his new eco-friendly-stainless-steel-bullcrap thermos that he had snagged at his favorite hippie-dippie grocery store. Granted, this prank was a simple one, but he was looking forward to watching his brother get crankier throughout the day without his morning dose of caffeine to keep him going.
Dean continued to whistle tunelessly as he scooped the decaf instant coffee mix into the thermos and added hot water from the coffee maker’s water dispenser. He mixed it gently with a spoon and then screwed the lid back on before glancing around the employee lounge one last time. Slowly placing the thermos back in its original location, a self-satisfied smile stretched across his face.
Sam would be a grump all afternoon. Mission accomplished.
–-
Sam gave Dean a small nod as he sat next to him in the conference room. “Hey.”
“Heya, Sammy,” Dean chirped with a smile.
Similar to how Charlie had reacted, Sam’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do, Dean?”
Dean jutted out his lower lip, a small pout forming. “What, I can’t say hello to my little brother?”
Sam didn’t seem convinced, but raised his thermos to his mouth, taking a sip.
Dean grinned. “Enjoying your Monday?” he asked sweetly.
Before Sam could investigate further, Eileen took the seat on his other side and gave a friendly wave to the two brothers.
Good morning, Sam signed, having immediately perked up at her presence, and Eileen beamed at him.
Good morning to you too, she signed back.
“Aw, look at you two,” Dean crooned, solely to add fuel to fire. “Didn’t think Sam would ever accomplish saying more than two cohesive words to you.”
Sam glared at his brother while Eileen winked at him. “Someone had to make the first move,” she said confidently, and Dean laughed as the tips of Sam’s ears turned pink.
A few more employees shuffled into the room, including Castiel, who took the seat next to Dean. The accountant gave him a polite nod and an unusually soft, “Good morning, Dean,” to which Dean responded in kind with a, “Mornin’, Castiel.”
“You seem to be in a pleasant mood today.”
Shrugging, Dean brought his cup of (caffeinated) coffee to his lips. “Just another Monday. You, on the other hand…” Dean gestured to the head accountant, whose eye bags matched the dark suit jacket he wore. “Another late night?”
“Yes,” Castiel rubbed an eye, huffing a soft sigh. “I’m hoping my coffee will wake me up soon enough.”
“Here’s to hoping.”
“Thank you, Dean.”
When Dean first met Castiel, he wasn’t sure if Castiel had known he was the one who ordered Zachariah’s surprise coffee, but he sure as hell didn’t let it slip in case the man was a snitch for their boss. Unwilling to risk his secret being escalated to Zachariah, Dean initially chose to associate on an as-needed basis with Castiel, their interactions limited to weekly water-cooler talk.
(Sam, on the other hand, had reprimanded Dean for weeks once he found out. “You could’ve sent him into anaphylaxis, Dean, you could’ve lost your job, we’re not eight years old anymore, we don’t have time for any of your blah blah blah–”)
It wasn’t until Castiel was promoted to head accountant a few months later that Dean learned how surprisingly hilarious the guy was.
After Castiel’s promotion, their brief and polite conversations expanded to near-daily exchanges, ranging from a friendly wave across the hallway to hour-long meetings. The communications and accounting departments often worked together to discuss efficient marketing strategies to the public, and although Dean cringed at half of their company’s cheesy greeting card slogans, hearing Castiel’s deadpan delivery made them all the more rewarding. The man seemed private, given that Dean still didn’t seem to know much about him, but what he did learn from Castiel’s sarcastic mutterings during Zachariah’s meetings was that he was 1) definitely not a snitch, and 2) the only thing that made those meetings tolerable.
Except now, as Castiel appeared as if he were to keel over at any moment.
Before Dean could determine if he needed to call an ambulance, Zachariah marched into the conference room, promptly starting the meeting. He began by droning on about stocks, projections, and “merits in the workplace,” and Dean quickly found himself tuning out his boss. He glanced back at Sam every so often, but the younger Winchester’s focus remained just as sharp as it always did, his undivided attention centered on Zachariah.
Huh.
Dean scanned the rest of the room. Aside from Castiel, who seemed like he was about to pass out in his seat, everyone seemed to be giving Adler varying levels of attention. He felt a brief pang of sympathy; Castiel always did seem to be working long hours and weekends, and Dean doubted that his recent promotion helped improve his work-life balance, or lack thereof.
“And now,” Zachariah’s booming, grating voice rang throughout the conference room, “I’d like to discuss Celestial Cards’ current plans to merge with Toddy Teddies.”
Dean couldn’t help but snort into his coffee. “We’re merging with alcoholic teddy bears now?” he muttered.
Sam elbowed him, but Zachariah merely grinned. “Precisely, Mr. Winchester,” his boss said with a sneer. “Though, I prefer to think of it as more of a…takeover.”
Dean suppressed a shudder at Zacharian’s uncanny smile, while Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, ‘teddies’? Surely you don’t mean–”
“They’re a small company that makes alcoholic chocolates in the shape of teddy bears,” Gabriel Novak interrupted, looking bored as he examined his fingers, lounging near the front of the room. He turned to the rest of the table, a mischievous glint glimmering in his eye. “Though, I wouldn’t oppose partnering with other types of romantic services.”
“Gabriel,” Castiel warned, his deep voice uncharacteristically wary and muffled.
Dean glanced at the head accountant again and noticed the whites of his knuckles as his left hand clutched his thermos for dear life. His right arm was propped up on the conference table to support his lulling head, his closing eyelids suggesting that he was on the verge of falling asleep.
Wait.
Dean did a double take as he noticed the familiar dark blue thermos in Castiel’s hands. His gaze immediately snapped to Sam, who raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Dean looked down at his younger brother’s hand, which gripped a similar dark blue thermos, but with Sam W. engraved on the side.
There had been no engraving on the thermos Dean had emptied that morning.
Uh-oh.
Dean scooted his seat closer to the table and laterally extended his leg in an attempt to inconspicuously brush it against Castiel’s. If Adler noticed he was falling asleep, there’d surely be hell to pay.
“In any case, it may serve us well for Valentine’s Day,” Zachariah went on, unaware that his drowsy head accountant was publicly drifting off. “It has come to the attention of our CEO that greeting cards may be facing a decline in popularity with the current electronic age, and taking on such a company may add a certain spark to our cards.”
“Oh, yeah, I love a good sweet treat with my cheesy greeting card,” Gabriel added, smirking. “Adds a little spiciness to it if I can get a buzz on.”
Dean jerked his leg again, feeling the edge of Castiel’s pant leg brush against his toes. Again, no luck. He decided to switch gears and gently pulled on the man’s suit jacket sleeve, but Castiel continued to doze off.
Zachariah frowned. “Yes, thank you for that commentary, Mr. Novak.”
“Just doin’ my job,” Gabriel said with a cheeky grin.
“When will the merger begin?” Sam asked, trying to focus on the task at hand.
“In two weeks,” Zachariah said. “I expect everyone to remain on top of this, as the future of this company hinges on its success. I expect bi-weekly reports directly to my desk.”
“Wait, it’s in two weeks and you want reports every two weeks?” Eileen asked, eyebrow raised.
“No, I expect two reports per week.”
“That’s semi-weekly,” Charlie corrected cheerfully, looking slightly less hungover than when Dean first saw her that morning.
“Regardless,” Zachariah’s beady eyes narrowed, “I don’t care for this grammar lesson from my employees. I expect two reports per week, otherwise I’ll have you removed from the premises before you can say ‘severance’.”
Gabriel seemed to be the only one not perturbed by Zachariah’s unpleasant demeanor, as he rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket, pulling out a lollipop. “Y’know, I do wonder how much this’ll cost us in the long run,” he said, waving his lollipop similarly to a wand. “I don’t think dear ol’ Dick would take kindly to a loss in our investments, don’t you think, Addy?”
Zachariah’s frown deepened. “Indeed. Castiel, what financial projections do we currently predict with this takeover?”
All eyes were now on Castiel, who was snoring softly in his seat. Dean quickly jerked his leg again, this time miscalculating his aim and accidentally kneeing the man in the shin.
Castiel jolted awake, his blue eyes blinking in shock as his head shot up from the conference table. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Adler?”
Zachariah’s lips pursed in disapproval. “If you have time to fall asleep during our quarterly meetings, Mr. Novak, then I strongly encourage you to seek employment elsewhere.”
Dean felt his gut twist guiltily as Castiel’s head hung in shame. “I apologize, sir, it won’t happen again.”
“See to it that it will not. I expect a review outlining financial expectations for this merger by EOD.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Meeting adjourned.”
Employees awkwardly rose from their seats and shuffled out of the conference room, following Zachariah as he strutted out with his chin held high. Castiel, however, remained in his seat, eyes shut as he sighed frustratedly. Dean felt his stomach sink in regret; swapping the thermos’ coffee for decaf was only meant to be a harmless prank against Sam. He never meant for Castiel to get caught in the crossfire, let alone get publicly reprimanded by Zachariah.
Dean waited until the room had cleared before he turned to the accountant, who was now holding his head in his hands. “Hey, uh, you okay, Castiel?”
“I suppose,” Castiel’s deep voice came, muffled from behind his fingers. “I apologize, Dean, did I forget something else, like a deadline for the communications department?”
“No, no,” Dean hurried to assure him. “I, uh, just wanted to apologize. It wasn’t cool of Zach to talk to you like that, let alone publicly.”
Castiel sighed again and removed his hands from his face. Dean had always acknowledged the man was objectively handsome, with dark messy hair that seemed beyond untameable, sharp cheekbones paired with a five o’clock shadow, and intense blue eyes. But up close, Dean especially couldn’t deny how otherworldly the man’s eyes seemed.
Holy shit, have they always been that blue? It’s like I’m swimming in the damn ocean or something.
“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, interrupting Dean’s thoughts. There was a small, tired smile on his face, and Dean wished it didn’t seem so sad. “I appreciate it, but it’s not your fault I fell asleep, and it’s not your fault Zachariah addressed me that way.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, as if trying to remove the sleep from his eyes.
“H-Hah, yeah, about that,” Dean laughed nervously. “I, uh, might be somewhat to blame.”
Castiel tilted his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Dean bit his lip. “I might’ve replaced your coffee with decaf this morning.”
Castiel’s eyes widened, and Dean hurried to explain further, “I’m so sorry, I promise I didn’t do it on purpose – I thought it was Sam’s thermos, you both have the same one. It was just meant to annoy my brother, he gets grumpy as fuck without his caffeine. I had no idea it was yours, I swear.”
“You….replaced my coffee with decaffeinated coffee?” Castiel repeated slowly.
Dean pursed his lips, squirming under the accountant’s scrutiny. “Yeah.”
There was a brief moment of silence before Castiel turned his chair to completely face Dean, leaning in as he squinted at him. The man seemed to have no sense of spatial awareness, as there were mere inches between them now, their knees knocking against each other. Dean felt heat creep into his face as he figured the accountant could’ve either headbutted him or kissed him with the short distance between them.
Instead, Castiel gave Dean a leveled look as he cleared his throat and pushed his chair back.
“Well then, Mr. Winchester. Thank you for your honesty.”
And with that, he got to his feet and walked out of the conference room, leaving behind a very confused Dean.
--
“I can’t believe he switched my coffee,” Castiel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Gabriel hummed, his attention focused on his Candy Crush game on his phone. “I mean, the Winchesters were hired solely for eye candy, so I can believe it.”
Castiel glared at his brother. “That’s not true, Gabriel. Both of them are very capable workers and manage their departments efficiently.”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on his lips. “Especially Winchester the older, eh?” he asked, clucking his tongue. “I’ve seen those blocked-off meetings between comms and accounting, Cassie.”
“We’re merely friendly with one another.” Castiel’s frown deepened. “We’re coworkers, and both department heads.”
“Mm, I’m sure there’s some kind of head goin’–”
“Gabriel.”
The two were in Gabriel’s office, the door closed behind Castiel as he paced back and forth. Gabriel watched, unimpressed, as his younger brother walked in circles, restless and ranting.
“Is he after my job, do you think?” Castiel paused, his head snapping up in revelation. “I’ve always believed Dean liked his department, as he seems to be social and likable enough to be successful in communications.”
Gabriel waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, that boy doesn’t have eyes for any other department, especially not math. You’re safe, Cassie.”
Castiel eyed him warily before sighing. “I don’t know, everyone already assumes I got my position because my older brother is the corporate liaison for our branch.”
Gabriel set down his phone. “Castiel, listen to me.” His tone was now unusually serious, his brown eyes earnest. “You’re here first thing in the morning, and you’re always leaving late after everyone else. You’re here on the weekends, for fuck’s sake. You’re a hard worker, everyone knows that. You didn’t need my sexy ass to earn that promotion.”
Castiel scoffed, unconvinced. “Zachariah likely doesn’t think so.”
“Yeah, well,” Gabriel leaned back in his desk chair, focusing his attention back on his game, “Zachariah’s a dumbass. It honestly sounds like you just got caught in the crossfire of Dean-o’s prank for Sammy boy. His apology sounded genuine enough.”
Castiel slumped down in the chair across from Gabriel’s desk, sighing heavily. He had thought he was potentially making progress with some of the employees at Celestial Cards Lawrence, particularly with Dean Winchester, the head of communications. Castiel had thought the man seemed friendly enough; the look of horror on Dean’s face when he learned of Zachariah’s allergy his first week at the branch assured Castiel that he wasn’t one to intentionally poison his coworkers. He always gave a friendly smile to Castiel whenever they passed one another in the hallway, and he seemed to get along with customers and employees alike. Castiel figured if there was any place to start with making friends, Dean Winchester was it.
Until today.
“I’m just trying to get along with people,” Castiel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “I thought Dean would be more….open to being friends.”
“Y’know, you could get back at him,” Gabriel’s voice interrupted Castiel’s thoughts.
Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Cassie, I could give you some ideas on how to get back at good ol’ Dean,” Gabriel said, chest puffing in pride. “If you recall, you are talking to a certified prankster. Good ol’ Mrs. Bean next door didn’t recognize her car for weeks after I was done with it.”
“Gabriel, we can’t tag his car, that’s childish and uncalled for.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know he’s just as crazy about his car as you are about yours,” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I keep telling you to throw out that heap of junk. No one’s gonna fuck you if you pick ’em up in that old thing.”
“Gabriel,” Castiel warned. A migraine started to blossom in his head, and he massaged his temples.
“Or, maybe Dean-o might.” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows. “Or, maybe he’ll let you fuck him in his car–”
“We were talking about getting back at Dean in ways that won’t injure him or anyone else, nor give Zachariah an aneurysm,” Castiel reminded his brother, his voice dripping with irritation.
“I promise, it’ll just be a harmless little prank,” Gabriel assured. “No bodily harm will come to your boy toy.”
“He’s not my–”
“Whatever,” his brother waved his hand dismissively. “If anything, this’ll show Winchester that you have a sense of humor, and afterwards, you’ll both have an inside joke to laugh over together.”
Though the plan sounded simple enough, Castiel still felt apprehension over it. But Gabriel did seem to understand people better than he did. “If you’re sure, Gabriel.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Gabriel assured. “I’ll get the glitter bomb.”
“Glitter bomb?” Castiel echoed in disbelief.
“Don’t worry about the semantics, dear Cassie, it’s just a little something that’ll cover his desk in glitter. It’s harmless, they’ll be big enough that he won’t inhale ’em or anything, and he’ll be fine,” Gabriel raised his hand. “Scout’s honor.”
The accountant squinted at him. “And you promise this…. ‘getting back at him’ is of the same degree as him switching out my coffee?”
Gabriel hummed in assent.
Dean hummed as he walked into work the next morning, his shoulder bag swinging back and forth. Though, this time, he wasn’t as excited as he had been the morning before.
He feared that after yesterday’s coffee swap, Castiel would’ve been furious with him, and maybe gone so far as to report him to HR. He knew that Sam would’ve probably taken the full report and reprimanded him inside and outside of the workplace for his practical joke (seriously, where was the benefit of nepotism here?), and for something as small as switching the guy’s coffee, Dean had hoped he could just buy Castiel lunch and, months down the road, they could enjoy a laugh over it together.
As his worries swarmed his mind, he nearly missed the white tube resting on his desk. It was the same size as those toy kaleidoscopes he often saw at the store’s checkout aisle, but there were no fun designs on this one’s surface. Television had taught him enough to have warning bells going off in his mind, but he figured if anyone in the company was going to receive anthrax, it would’ve been CEO Dick Roman and not the Lawrence branch’s handsome head of communications.
He picked up the yellow sticky note attached to the top, a short note written in Castiel’s messy but familiar handwriting.
Dean,
I apologize for my tardiness, but here is the financial report regarding the marketing strategy your team implemented at the job fair last week.
–Castiel
Dean let out a sigh of relief. It seemed like the accountant was extending him an olive branch, and Dean really appreciated that Castiel was handling it with grace. Warm blue eyes flashed in his mind, and he felt a smile forming on his lips as he pulled on the tube’s lid to pull out the report. Man, what a cool guy, he thought.
That was all Dean was able to think before a burst of glitter erupted loudly from the tube. Millions of small sparkling pieces of penis-shaped rainbow glitter spilled out, forming a blanket over Dean and all of his items in his cubicle.
Dean blinked.
“Hey, Dean, are you good? I heard a–” Charlie’s words died on her lips as she took in the glitter explosion. The glitter seemed to have covered every square inch of his cubicle – his hair, his computer, his desk. She covered her mouth with her hand, choking on her poorly-disguised laughter.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Bradbury,” Dean huffed, rolling his eyes.
“I– how on earth–” Charlie cut herself off as she laughed, her arms now encircling her stomach. “I can’t believe this.”
The elevator gave a soft ding as it announced its arrival. Dean and Charlie turned to see Castiel walking towards them, his attention focused on his phone as he entered the office for the day. He briefly glanced up as he passed Dean’s cubicle and then froze, his eyes widening in shock as he took Dean in.
“I– Is that,” he tried unsuccessfully, “Dean, is that glitter–”
“Yeah, thanks for that,” Dean said, tossing the empty white tube to Castiel.
“I– I didn’t know it was going to be shaped like that,” the accountant explained exasperatedly as he fumbled to catch the tube, “Dean, I promise, I didn’t expect it to–”
Dean waved him off. “No worries, man, I get it,” he sighed deeply. “I swapped your coffee, you fell asleep, you prank me back. We’re even now, right?”
Castiel pursed his lips, looking unconvinced. “I’m so sorry Dean, Gabriel had assured me it would’ve been harmless glitter, not phallic-shaped, of all things.”
Dean tried not to focus on the fact that the man seriously called the glitter “phallic-shaped.” “It’s cool, dude,” he said, pairing his most charming smile with a wink. “We’re good.”
Castiel nodded, his blue eyes still wide in horror. “I’ll, erm, go ask the custodian if we can borrow her vacuum. I– I’ll be right back.”
Charlie let out an amused chuckle as she watched the accountant hurry away. She reached towards his head and picked out a single piece of blue penis-shaped glitter, snickering as she inspected it. “That’s actually really cool of you to take it in stride, Winchester.”
“Oh, that’s because it is so on,” Dean whispered, a glint in his eye.
Charlie turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, what?”
Dean grinned. “Castiel Novak, you’ve just earned yourself a prank war.”