Summary: Dean and Cas have been best friends for years. And sure, Dean had asked Cas out when they’d first met, but in the years after Cas had turned him down, Dean has come to realize that he wouldn’t trade their friendship for anything (even if he does still think about kissing Cas sometimes).
Anyway, between running his bar and preparing for a homebrewing competition that he hopes will help make his dreams of turning his brewing hobby from amateur to pro, he doesn’t really have time for romance. But is there more brewing between Dean and Cas than just a couple of extra-hoppy IPAs? Or is it only Charlie who thinks so?
Excerpt: “I started brewing a couple years ago,” Dean explains. He kneels down to pull out the keg a little bit so Charlie can take a look. “Sam — my brother — said I was spending too much time here and convinced me I needed a hobby. I don’t have a license to sell it, not yet at least, but some of the regulars like to try it.”
“Some of the regulars allow themselves to be the guinea pigs for your mad scientist experiments,” someone corrects dryly from above him. Dean stands back up, although he doesn’t need to make eye contact to recognize the owner of the voice. “Hello, Dean,” Castiel says.
“Hey, Cas,” Dean says, filling another tasting glass and handing it to him. Cas raises the glass to his face and sniffs it before taking a small sip.
He nods. “It’s good.”
“But?” Dean probes.
Castiel thinks for a moment and then shakes his head. “No, it’s good,” he answers. “It just tastes a little… early?”
“Ah,” Dean says, relieved. “Yeah, it is. Probably needs another week or so, but Charlie asked — this is Charlie, by the way,” he interrupts himself, gesturing to his new bartender.
“Hello,” Cas says, and Charlie gives him a wave. Cas orders a beer, and before he goes over to a table by the window, says, “You still haven’t chosen a movie for tomorrow, Dean.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get back to you,” Dean says, “Or we can just watch Tombstone again.” He thinks he catches Cas rolling his eyes as he turns away from the bar.
“Ooh, date night?” Charlie asks.
“Ha,” Dean says, halfway between a word and a cough. “Cas is just a friend.”
Charlie replies, “Do you want to try that again and see if you can make it sound believable this time?”
Dean indulges her. “Cas is just a friend with some large gaps in his pop culture knowledge.”
“Uh-huh,” Charlie says. “I’ve read that one in the playbook before. You fill some of his gaps, he fills some of yours—”
“You wanna get fired on your first day?” Dean asks her.
Charlie holds up her hands in surrender. “Sorry, boss,” she says. She turns away to serve a customer a gin and tonic and then glances over to where Cas has ensconced himself in one of the booths that line the side of the bar and set a notebook and bulging file folder on the table next to his beer.
“Really though, nothing?” She asks, looking back at Dean. “Even I can see he’s gorgeous.”
Dean can’t help but chuckle at that, even as he rolls his eyes. This time it’s his turn to look at Cas. The sun is setting outside and a few rays are shining through the window of the bar, catching Cas across the face as he looks down at his research.
He must stare for a moment too long because Charlie makes a “hmm,” noise that can only be described as ‘knowing.’
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