Chapter Text
Dean Winchester lives in a small town, so he knows most of the faces that pass through the coffee shop that he owns with his brother Sam. The brothers had moved around a lot with their father after their mother’s death, but after John’s passing two years ago, the boys were able to settle down in a small Kansas town and open up The Winchester Coffeehouse. Sam did the books and helped make the coffee on busy mornings but spent most of his time on school work; while Dean made the muffins, scones, and coffee on a daily basis.
Dean was manning the register on a particularly cold, winter Tuesday when the door chimes rang and a new face walked in to the shop. The man that entered was tall with dark hair, startlingly blue eyes, and what looked to be a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his strong jaw. Stopping by the coat rack, the man unwound the charcoal scarf from his neck and hung it up along with the black jacket he wore. As the stranger approached the counter, Dean realized he had been staring and he tried to act normal and smiled, hoping the attractive newcomer hadn’t noticed.
“What can I get started for ya today?”
“A double shot latte,” the deep gravelly voice replied. Glancing at the case of baked goods he added, “And one of those peach-raspberry scones sounds delicious.”
“For here or to-go?”
“For here, thanks.”
“Sounds good,” Dean punched some buttons on the cash register secretly happy that the cute guy was staying in the shop for a little while, “That will be $4.75.”
“Wow, that’s a good price,” the still unnamed man commented as he handed over a bill.
“Out of five… Yeah my little brother handles the books and finds ways to cut costs by buying free-trade or whatever; also helps that I make most of the pastries myself.” Dean put one of the scones from the case on a plate, “You want this heated up?”
“No thank you, I’m sure it is delicious just the way it is,” the dark haired man said with a smile.
Dean fought off a blush and now flustered, barely got out the words, “I’ll bring you your coffee when it’s ready.”
“Alright.” The man went to take a seat in the cushy arm chairs by the window and Dean turned toward the machines, grateful to be out of the piercing gaze of the handsome man. Geez, how is this guy getting him so worked up? It’s not like he’s a fricking celebrity or something, he’s just a random new stranger. Dean made the coffee, totally not trying his hardest to make the foam his most impressive design, a set of wings.
He walked the coffee over to where the man was now setting up his laptop and set it down a careful distance from the technology, “One double shot latte.”
“Thank you, Dean. The scone is amazing by the way, I wish I had the recipe for when my family comes to visit next weekend.”
There are probably a million better things Dean could have responded with but the first thing he said was, “How do you know my name?”
The stranger just smiled and tapped the left side of his own chest, reminding Dean that his name is embroidered on to his apron, a present from Sam last year.
This time Dean couldn’t fight off the blush and he just stammered back, “Oh yeah, well, enjoy your coffee.” He had meant to wink and be charming or some shit like that, not act like a 12 year old girl. Ugh, whatever. He heard a low quiet chuckle behind him as he walked away and blushed even harder if that was possible at this point.
Dean distracts himself by cleaning the espresso machine and washing the mugs from the early morning rush while his mystery customer worked away at his computer, slowly drinking his coffee and finishing his scone. Dean tried not to look over too often, but his gaze kept wandering.
Finally, the man finished with his work and food, packed up his things, and left with a wave to Dean.
“See ya…” Dean realized he didn’t know the guy’s name, but the stranger was out the door and Dean was left without an answer. Great. Probably will never see him again either, ‘cause that’s just his luck.
The rest of the day was uneventful with the regular crowd of afternoon coffee shop goers planting themselves in the mismatched armchairs to read, write, and gossip. Sam stopped in to work on the books but mostly to have a muffin and some coffee while chatting with Dean.
“So get this, my historical politics teacher quit last Friday and the University had to hire a guy to take over the class last minute.”
“What? Professors can just up and quit like that? Don’t they have to give notice or something?”
Sam glanced around to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation before he said in a lower voice, “People are saying he just disappeared, Dean. I mean, Chuck was always weird, but he sent an email saying he quit to the head of the department and left. Luckily a guy applied for the job two weeks ago, he starts tomorrow and God help us if he can’t teach better than the sub we have had for the last two days.”
“Do you really even need historical politics to be a big-shot lawyer? It sounds boring as shit if even the professor wants to jump ship.”
“Dean…”
“Yeah, yeah, what does a high school dropout know? Shut up and drink your coffee.”
“Anything interesting happen here?”
Dean immediately thought of his mystery customer but decided that wasn’t what Sam wanted to hear about, “Naw, just the next great novelist drinking his coffee as slowly as possible again. I swear we should time him some day.”
“Whatever Dean, I have to do homework. See you back at the apartment?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in around five if I can get the loiterers out at a decent time. Later, Sammy.”
“Cool, bye!” And with that, Sam was gone and Dean was left with two more hours of mulling around and trying not to think of blue eyes.