Work Text:
Travelling home from Bordeaux every weekend was sort of a pain in the ass. There was really no good way to do it. He could drive the entire two hours south on Friday evening, and suffer through the return trip on Sunday evening and that sucked. Or he could take the train from Bordeaux-Saint-Jean Station in Boreaux and get off in either Dax or Bayonne, to shorten the time. But even then it was a half hour drive minimum from both Dax and Bayonne and the fastest road– from Bayonne, which was technically only the fastest route by a few precious minutes - had tolls.
No matter what, Castiel hated his weekend commute.
When he’d taken the job in Bordeaux, he’d been happy with the money. Getting 3,137€ a month was sure as hell beating the market, especially as a starting salary for a fine arts professor. But the commute was starting to kill him.
Sighing, Castiel let his head roll back on his shoulders. He was exhausted. It was after six already and he was just now leaving Bordeaux. No matter where he got off he was going to be driving home while fucking half asleep.
Fuck. He couldn’t do that. Some part of him hoped that the people around him didn’t hear the growl that escaped him when he forced himself to get up out of his seat. He was going to claw his way to the dining car for a strong cup of coffee.
As he passed through the train towards the dining car the cars got more and more sparse of people. The last car Castiel had to pass through was completely devote of passengers, but the smell of coffee was wafting from the back of it through the slightly open door. He was almost at the threshold when the bathroom door swung open and nearly hit him in the face. Two people stepped out of the bathroom, giggling at one another.
Castiel couldn’t see that it was two people right away, not with the door in his face. But voices belonging to two different genders made the observation unavoidable. The two lovers were oblivious all the way up to closing to the door and beginning to walk towards him. Castiel came chest to with the man, as he was looking over his shoulder at his partner, before the man stopped. The woman had seen him a little earlier but not with enough time to keep her beau from bumping into Castiel.
When they both finally noticed him the woman turned red and looked to the side with a smile, while the man gave a lopsided grin and offered a half-hearted, chuckled apology.
Castiel felt the rage in his chest but managed to remind himself it was nothing but exhaustion and caffeine deprivation. He let them off with a glare and snarl, which they took with a snicker and some comment containing the word “prude”. That almost made him turn around. Almost. After a week of classes and office hours, he was too tired to give any fucks about someone else’s sex life. They were blocking his path to coffee and that was all he cared about. But to turn around and tell them off was to let them keep him from coffee even longer, so trudged on into the dining car.
The aroma of coffee was overpowering in the car. That and some leftover baked goods from that day where all they were selling, but for Castiel it was enough. He leaned on the counter and waited for the barista to turn and face him. It took a few minutes, but she eventually came back to the counter from the espresso machine with a large cup of something that smelled delicious.
“Thanks,” a voice to Castiel’s right said softly.
Castiel turned his head, curious to know who else needed to the caffeine at this hour. To his pleasure he found the large coffee being handed to a tall drink of water.
The man was a little bigger than Castiel, but slightly slenderer. His hair was a grey gradient with an uneven cut, and his clothes looked like he belonged in movie or in an avant-garde fashion magazine. He was beautiful, with lips that just begged to kissed and an outfit that was obviously tailored to fit a body that begged to be held.
“What did you get?” Castiel muttered while he tried not to stare at the stranger’s lips. But the stranger’s eyes were just as alluring. The mismatched teal and amber gaze raked over him like hot air on his bare skin and made his senses jump to attention.
“Triple espresso macchiato,” the stranger said in a rich baritone that made Castiel quiver. “I recommend it, though you might have trouble sleeping when you get home.”
“Then that’s exactly what I want,” Castiel managed to quip. He ordered and paid, but keep his attention on the stranger.
To give himself credit, Castiel noticed the stranger didn’t move away from the counter with is drink, but lingered at Castiel’s elbow.
“Do you take this train often?” the stranger muttered over his cup.
“Some Friday evenings. I commute, work week in Bordeaux, weekends at home.”
“Mm. I do as well. But I have a four-day work week. I go home on Thursdays, usually, but I got held up this week.” The stranger sipped at his cup. “Luckily.”
The barista set his drink on the counter and Castiel had the dexterity to pick it up without spilling it.
“Sit down with me?” the strange asked, and when Castiel nodded he added: “My name is Lysander. I’m a professor at the University of Bordeaux.”
“So am I,” Castiel responded, surprised. “I’m in Bordeaux 3, as a fine arts professor.”
“I’m Bordeaux 1, mathematical physics.”
“Shit. Imagine the paintings you could create.”
“That…” Lysander stared, open-mouth, visibly confused, and unrefined for a moment. Then he collected himself and looked slightly more composed. “That is not the sort of thing people usually say when I tell them what I teach.”
“Art is math, science and philosophy made visually metaphorical,” Castiel answered breathily.
“I … yes.” Lysander’s dual-colored eyes raked over Castiel’s face and his lips trembled in particular way, that made Castiel smile.
“You know I didn’t come in her to talk about work.”
“No. No, I suppose you didn’t.”
“I actually came in to escort you out of the car, Lysander.” Castiel dropped his voice to as close to a whisper as he could get, and rolled Lysander’s name off his tongue using the same motion he wanted to use to roll his tongue over the head the man’s cock.
Lysander leaned forward, his tongue darting out to swipe across is lips for a moment. “Escort me out? Why?”
“This is a no smoking car, Lysander. And you are smoking hot.”
It was risk, saying something so corny. But Castiel liked to be himself when he flirted. He thought it was funny and clever so he said it. Lucky Lysander seemed to like it too. A grin split across his face.
“If you have somewhere in mind, lead the way.”
Castiel stood, coffee forgotten and turned towards the door. He headed out of dining car and straight to the bathroom whose door had almost hit him. As he opened it, he happened to glance down the aisle. The couple from before was coming back, but they’d stopped in the middle of the empty car to make-out. Lysander came up behind him, cupped his ass in his hand and whispered into his ear.
“Problem?”
Maybe they heard him, but it was probably coincidence, but the couple stopped kissing and looked towards them. Castiel smiled and opened his mouth to stick his tongue out in a lewd manner. When the couple's mouths dropped open in shock, Castiel turned away from them. “Nope,” he said as he pushed Lysander into the cramped bathroom.
Shutting the door behind them with a satisfying thump, Castiel figured a few sips of coffee and a fuck could keep him up until it he got home. Besides, Lysander had weekends off too. If this went well, Friday evenings could be date night, and that would definitely make his commute suck less.