Chapter Text
Dean sat in the busy Roadhouse, staring at a menu he knew by heart. Laughter rose from the pool table, the click of balls and the clatter of glasses filling the air, but he was alone.
“Dean, honey, would you let Alpha Novak sit here? I vouch for him.”
Dean jumped, startled by Ellen’s voice, which had cut through his thoughts. This unknown man beside her waited with respect.
“Yeah, sure,” Dean said.
The man slid into the seat, setting his trench coat aside, and offered a hand. “Castiel Novak.”
“Dean Smith.”
Castiel's brow arched like he already knew that wasn't true.
Ellen handed them each a menu. “Let me take your drink order, and I’ll be back for food.”
“I’ll have a jug of ice water with lemon, please,” Dean said.
“A pint of whatever you recommend on tap, please, Ms Harvelle,” Castiel added, his tone polite.
“I’ll be right back,” Ellen said, disappearing into the hum of voices and the clink of glasses.
Castiel turned back to him. “Thank you for letting me sit here. Ellen said you wouldn’t mind, but I wanted to ask. It’s busy tonight, good for business.”
Dean agreed, fingers tracing the condensation on the tabletop. “Yeah. I’m glad I’m not on shift. I help her out sometimes. Ellen looked out for me when I first came here for college.”
Castiel studied the menu with a focus that made Dean smile a little. When Ellen returned with their drinks, Dean handed his back. “Cheeseburger, all the works. Fries too, please.”
“I’ll have the same,” Castiel said, “but add bacon, please, Ms Harvelle.”
Ellen jotted it down with a grin. “You got it, sugar. I’ll be back soon.” She slipped away into the crowd, leaving them in their small bubble of calm.
“So, Dean,” Castiel began, “are you still at college?”
Dean took a sip of his water, the ice stinging against his teeth. “Yeah. Second year. CalArts. I’m doing photography and media. Loving it so far.”
“I’ve heard great things about that place,” Castiel said, with genuine interest.
The conversation drifted after that. Dean plucking up the courage to speak with the Alpha. Castiel put him at ease, sensing that Dean was shy and slightly nervous around strangers, not only Alphas, he did not know.
When Ellen brought their food, the bar's noise faded to a dull hum. Dean smiled over his burger. “So, Castiel, what do you do for a living?”
Castiel hesitated long enough for Dean to notice. “I’m a businessman,” he said finally, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Pretty dull, really.”
Dean caught the faint lines near those impossible blue eyes and felt the air change between them, light but charged all the same.
“Depends what kind, I guess.”
“I’m an equal-opportunity employer. We’ve created a culture of zero tolerance for bigotry in the workplace. We try to be green, not great yet, but we’ll get there. We’re innovative, we help the community, and we give to charity.”
“Oh, that’s good. Must be stressful balancing all that. Though you don’t seem to have too many grey hairs,” Dean said, peeking at him.
“I think that’s my angelic blood, it saves me from looking old, though I feel it.”
Dean took a long look at the angel. “So, when you’re done saving the world, Alpha, what do you do in your spare time?”
“Hmm. I like running; it clears my head. I like hiking and being in nature. I enjoy visiting different places and trying new foods.”
“Sounds fun. I like reading, and I’d love to travel. I try to swim when I can. I used to be on the school team in high school.”
Dean bit into his burger and let out a soft moan. Castiel’s eyes followed, dark and stormy. “How old are you, Dean?”
Dean finished chewing. “Oh, twenty-one twenty-two in January.”
“What do you plan on doing after school?”
“I want to create my own gallery, one that’s inclusive for everyone. My best friend Charlie and I went to high school with a girl named Tanner. She was partially sighted and the best photographer I’ve ever met. Her portfolio was out of this world. I want to make people see the ones most overlooked or written off as ineffective: people with disabilities, Omegas, folks from minority backgrounds, you name it.”
Castiel dabbed at his mouth. “That takes time and money.”
“I have the money. I need the skills. That’s why I’m at school. I will succeed and make my grandpa proud.”
Castiel saw how Dean’s eyes shone with passion, his voice full of conviction. The older angel believed him. “I do not doubt that you will. So, you’re nearing finals soon, then, I assume?” Castiel asked, wiping his fingers on his napkin.
“Yes, don’t remind me,” Dean groaned. “My housemates aren’t the best, but I put up with them.”
“Ah, college life,” Castiel said with a faint smile. “I remember it fondly, though I wouldn’t revisit it. Dean, I’d like to see your work. After finals, shall we exchange numbers? Only if you feel up to it.”
Dean liked this angel; he didn’t care that Castiel was older.
“If you’re unsure,” Castiel continued after Dean didn’t answer right away, “my younger brother Gabriel owns several businesses in the area, one of them a coffee shop called The Golden Halo. It has a room at the back, where we could meet, without background distractions. Let me give you his number. When you wish to visit, check out the space, and we can meet there if you’d like.”
“How did you know that loud noises bother me?” Dean asked.
“I’m in business, little Omega, and it would be remiss of me not to notice that you jumped when Ellen introduced us, or when the laughter rose past a certain level. You mentioned you worked here, but I wonder if that’s behind the scenes.”
Dean sighed, relieved he didn’t have to explain himself. “Yes. I don’t like it too loud. I had no idea how busy it would be tonight. I do work behind the scenes for Ellen. I prefer it. When my exams are over, I’ll call you and check out your brother’s place.”
They’d both finished their meal when a group of Alphas walked in, laughing and joking. Dean winced. “I’d better be going. Thank you for the company.”
“Let me walk you out,” Castiel said, noticing how pale Dean had gone.
“Thank you.”
Castiel grabbed his jacket and followed Dean. Ellen met them at the counter, where they both paid.
“I’ll talk later, Ellen. I won’t be around much with my exams.”
“You’d better come around for breakfast at least.”
Ellen kissed him on the cheek. “You know I will.”
They said their goodbyes, and Castiel walked Dean to his car. It was a beautiful ’67 Chevy Impala that had once belonged to his grandpa.
“I feel like I’ve been on a date,” Dean said shyly. “Thanks for such a great evening.”
“Goodnight, little Omega. Take care of yourself.”
Dean drove away, and Castiel wished it had been a date. The Omega was a sweet delight for his day.
-0-
Castiel picked up the phone to call his brother. He wanted to use Gabriel’s bakery for the meeting and to see that burning passion in Dean’s eyes again.
“Gabe, he had no idea who I was. Ellen never told him, though she said she’s known Dean for some time.”
“How did he not know you, Cassie? Has he been living under a rock?”
“Maybe he’s not from this area, or just not interested in business news. He’s not from high society, so he wouldn’t hear anything that way. It was refreshing. The boy has a dream and a passion, which reminded me of myself when I was younger.”
“Cas, be careful, okay? He might not know you, but he’s young, idealistic, and could be after a sugar daddy.”
Castiel clicked his tongue in irritation. “Gabriel, I’ll ignore that comment. I’ve sent him your way. Once the poor boy comes up for air after his exams, he'll see the room. He’s skittish, not in a good way, Gabe. Take care of him, please.”
Gabriel sighed. “You know I will.”
-0-
Dean was fed up with exams. Charlie was having the same problem and told him to find caffeine. She was all the way across the country in Cambridge, Massachusetts, probably on her third cup of coffee by now.
He found Golden Halo that Friday, after a whole week of tests. The coffee shop was a good size, with gold-trimmed pillars framing large glass windows that overlooked Main Street. The sign was black and gold, a shining halo flanked by white wings. Inside, the ceiling was painted with cherubs perched on clouds, harps in hand and halos gleaming. There was definitely a theme.
“Welcome to Golden Halo,” said a cheerful woman in a golden apron, standing behind a glass counter filled with cakes and muffins in enough flavours to make Dean’s mouth water.
“You have pie,” he whispered reverently.
“Yes, we have five today: lime and raspberry, grasshopper, cracker pie, ricotta, and cherry-almond.”
“They all sound amazing. I can’t say I’ve ever tried any of them before. Um, I’m actually looking for Gabriel Novak. I was told to ask for him. I texted, and he said he’d be here today.”
Dean had messaged Gabriel earlier in the week, and Fridays were the best day to catch him at the coffee shop.
“Oh, let me get him. He’s in the back. Who shall I say is asking for him?”
“Dean Smith.”
The woman, with short chestnut hair and chocolate-brown eyes, skipped away from the counter and disappeared into the back rooms. She returned with a man shorter than Castiel, with straw-blond hair and twinkling brown eyes.
“Dean? I’m Gabriel. Welcome to the Golden Halo, named after me and my brother’s angelic names.”
The penny dropped. “Oh, I get it now,” Dean said, blushing. “I really like it in here.”
“Madie says you’ve been eyeing the pies,” Gabriel grinned. “So, how about we grab a coffee and take a pie break? Kiddo, you look pale. Did you even eat this week?”
Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been living off Doritos and coffee.”
Gabriel cackled. “Sounds like my college days. Come on, let’s get some real food into you. Are you allergic to anything?”
“Fish, that’s all.”
“Madie, can you get Dean a sandwich, no tuna, the full works, and a slice of pie? Oh, and a large coffee. Cream and sugar. We need to get his blood sugar and calories back up.”
“Okay, Mr Novak.”
“Now, Deano, I’m a Beta, so you’ve got nothing to fear from me. Not that you should, from my bossy brother, but you know how Alpha angels can be. Well, you don’t, but you will if you stick around.” Gabriel winked.
He led Dean through a set of doors at the back of the bathrooms, which were down there, along with the storerooms, kitchen, and a private room. “I rent this one out sometimes for parties and the like,” he said, pushing the door open.
The room was painted blue, the ceiling scattered with soft clouds, but no cherubs this time. A green carpet covered the floor, and the table and chairs were painted to match, decorated with hand-painted flowers. French doors opened onto a small walled garden with a paved patio. It was a quiet little haven, and Dean had no idea it existed.
“Did you do this, Gabriel? I mean, this is wonderful,” Dean said, running his fingers over the painted table and chairs.
“I went to the same school as you. You might’ve noticed a building named after my grandfather, who donated a lot to the college. He loved the arts.”
“The Novak Building? I never put two and two together. Gabriel, you’re so talented. What made you go into business?”
Gabriel paused. No questions about money or privilege, just curiosity. He smiled. “I own an art gallery, this coffee shop, and a few others. I hire kids who need work and help them through college. I wanted to give back, as grandpa did.”
“You’re awesome. My grandpa was like that, too. I never know what to do with his money.”
“You inherited?”
“Yeah. It’s just sitting in my account. He told me to go to college and live my life. We started late, my friends and I, because of how much he did for us. I feel sad he won’t see me graduate.”
“You’ve got time, kiddo. You’re still young.”
“I’d like to see your brother show him my pictures. I’ll text him, but honestly, I feel like I need to sleep for a couple of days first.”
“Cassie understands, Dean. Just make sure you text him.”
Dean yawned. “Oh, I will, if I can keep my eyes open.”
Madie came in with his food, and Dean inhaled it.
“Deano, slow down, you’ll choke!” Gabriel laughed.
“But it’s so good. The pie, Gabe, it’s the best.”
Gabriel chuckled. “Good to know.”
When Dean said goodbye, he thanked Madie, promised Gabriel he’d be back, and insisted on paying for his meal, dropping a tip into the jar before he left.
As soon as the door closed, Gabriel pulled out his phone and texted his brother.
[Gabe] Cassie, if Dean doesn’t text, don’t think he’s not interested. The kid’s dead on his feet and half-starved.
[Castiel] I hope you fed him?
[Gabe] Do you even know me, little bro?
[Castiel] Good. Thank you for keeping an eye on him.
[Gabe] Give it at least three days.
[Castiel] I have hope.
-0-
By Thursday, Dean finally felt like himself again. He’d eaten proper food, gone for a walk in the park, played online games with Charlie, and FaceTimed Jo Ellen’s daughter, who was away studying for her nursing degree. They didn’t get to see much of each other, but it was always good to catch up.
[Dean] Hey, Mr Novak, want to grab that coffee?
[Castiel] Dean, please call me Castiel. Yes, I would. Would ten tomorrow be convenient for you?
Dean grinned down at his phone. He loved how formal the angel sounded, even over text.
[Dean] 10 works! Golden Halo, okay? If I’m early, I’ll hang out in that back room.
[Castiel] I’ll see you then, Dean. I’m looking forward to it.
Dean told Charlie about his date, and she was thrilled for him. She was the only one who knew about his past life and wanted nothing but the best for him. No one else knew, not even Ellen, though she suspected something had happened when Dean came out here to care for his grandpa the year before he passed. Ellen had been a steady support, getting to know Henry and Jo, who’d also been close to Dean’s grandfather.
He was grateful for their friendship; without them, he wouldn’t have known what to do. Charlie had wanted to fly out, but she was still in Maine, working to save for school, living in Dean’s house rent-free, of course.
Dean made sure to dress smartly. He could afford designer labels, but he never wore them, not for college. He never knew if someone might get into his room, and that thought always made him uneasy.
He drove to the café and parked in the lot. Gabriel wasn’t there, but Madie was, and she waved him over.
“Dean, come on through. Mr Novak isn’t here yet, but the other Mr Novak said you can wait in the room.”
“Thanks, Madie.”
“Did you want to order now?”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll wait, thanks.”
“Okay, I’ll send Mr Novak through.” Her long chestnut hair bounced as she disappeared toward the front.
Dean opened the doors and let the sunshine wash over his face. The scent of the blooms drifted like silk on the soft breeze. Birds dipped into the garden, pecking at the seeds Gabriel must’ve scattered for them.
A knock sounded at the door, and he turned as Madie stepped in with a man behind her.
“Mr Novak is here, Dean.”
Castiel came in, blue eyes bright, and Dean rose to greet him before sitting down in the lovely painted chairs Gabriel had crafted.
“It’s good to see you again, Dean.”
“You too, Castiel. Your brother has an awesome place.”
“How did the exams go?” Castiel asked. He could see Dean had lost weight, and there was a faint tiredness clinging to him.
“Peachy,” Dean said flatly. “I just hope I pass.”
“Dean,” Castiel said gently, “have faith in your ability.”
Madie took their order, and Dean pulled out the photo book he’d brought with him. Castiel took his time studying the images, scenes from along the coastline, a few buildings half-lost to time, stretches of driftwood and sand. Dean had a way of catching moments most people would’ve walked past.
“Dean, these are breathtaking,” Castiel said at last. “I especially love the shell, the way you captured the colours. And that black-and-white shot of the same piece is stunning. Your work offers a whole perspective I hadn’t considered.”
Dean felt his face warm. “Thanks, Castiel. That’s kind of you.”
“You should show Gabriel. He might want some for his business. Are these for sale?”
“Yeah. I can get prints made. Some of them I’m submitting for my projects.”
“Ah, I see. You’ll want full credit for those, of course.”
Dean smiled faintly. “If you and your brother want any, I can send you copies to look through. Most are on my laptop; these are just the ones for school.”
“Is there a way we can see them digitally?” Castiel asked, still paging through the book, clearly impressed.
“I can send you the photos,” Dean said, still unsure why someone like Castiel would be this interested. “The same ones.”
“That would be great,” Castiel said, watching Dean as though trying to translate him. “So, tell me more about yourself.”
Madie dropped off their food, and they both thanked her. Dean had a smoothie and a pie; Castiel, a coffee and a blueberry-raspberry muffin.
“There’s not much to tell,” Dean said. “I’m from Kansas, originally, but grew up in New England. My best friends at MIT, and I miss her. I came here because my grandpa was sick, about a year before I started college. Ellen and Jo became like family; they helped me care for him. So, it didn’t surprise me when Jo said she wanted to become a nurse.”
“Does your grandfather still live in the area?” Castiel asked.
Dean’s eyes dropped, and he shook his head. “No. He passed away from cancer. He wanted me to go to college. The inheritance he left me helped with that.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you’d rather have your grandpa than the money.”
“A million times over,” Dean said solemnly. “I miss him every day.” He paused, then added, “Tell me more about you, Castiel,” eager to shift the focus.
Castiel noticed the deflection but let it go. He took a slow sip of his coffee, humming at the strong, tart flavour. “I have two brothers, Gabriel and Michael. You’ve met Gabriel. Michael helps me run the business. I’m the oldest, though you wouldn’t know it with how protective they both are.”
“That’s brothers for you,” Dean said, a faint smirk brushing his lips.
“Yes,” Castiel huffed. “I’m used to it now. Do you have any siblings?”
The light in Dean’s face dimmed. He went still, his easy air tightening into something closed and stormy like a sky about to break.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” Dean said, his tone clipped.
“I apologise. I didn’t mean to step on your toes,” Castiel replied. He looked as though he wanted to reach out but held back.
“It’s not your fault,” Dean apologised. “I left them all behind, and I can’t talk about it yet.”
“I understand, Dean. When you’re ready, sweetheart, I’ll be here to listen.”
Did that mean Castiel intended to stay in his life for the long haul? Dean wasn’t sure, but it certainly felt like the angel wanted more than a casual friendship.
He licked his lips, tasting the last trace of pie. Gabriel really was an excellent baker, though Dean secretly thought he could give him a run for his money.
“I’d like to cook for you sometime,” he said shyly, “but I don’t really have the space.”
“I can remedy that,” Castiel said with a small smile. “I have a lovely house I share with my family, our nest. We live together until we find our mates. Well, not me, as the eldest. But if you’d like, I can speak to Mother and Gabriel. They’ll give us privacy for the evening. I can text you a few times, and you can tell me what works best.”
Dean remembered stories his grandfather used to tell him about angels, their ways, their bonds. Grandpa Henry had been a scholar of creature studies, a demonologist by trade but fascinated by angelic lore. As a child, Dean would sit and listen for hours, sometimes learning snippets of Enochian from him. He wasn’t fluent, but he knew enough to get by.
Henry also knew about angels because his mother’s family were angels. Mary, however, believed he was impure because he was a male Omega and never taught him about his angelic heritage. So, Henry passed down what knowledge he had to Dean. Apart from being a male Omega, though, Dean had never shown any sign of angelic traits. Henry used to tell him that one day he might find that his nature was trauma-bound and perhaps finding his mate would awaken it.
Castiel, of course, had seen nothing of the sort, no glimmer of grace, no hint of wings. For now, he assumed Dean was human, and Dean gave him no reason to think otherwise.
Castiel’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “You seem far away. Is everything all right?”
“Sorry,” Dean said quickly. “Yes, I’ll text you. Is there anything you dislike or are allergic to?”
“Not at all. Make whatever you like. I have a terrible sweet tooth, so if desserts are on the menu, I’ll be delighted.”
Dean chuckled. “I promise to make something you’ll enjoy, then.”
They finished up, and Castiel insisted on paying, teasing that since Dean was cooking next time, it was only fair. Dean said goodbye to Madie and dropped another tip in the jar before heading out.
Castiel was kind, thoughtful, too good, maybe. Dean hoped they’d see each other again, though he knew the question about his family would return sooner or later. If they ever got that far, he’d have to tell him the truth.
As he walked to his car, Dean crossed his fingers and began thinking of recipes he could make for the angel. He wasn’t one to brag, but he could cook well, and he loved making people happy. This felt like a good place to start.