Where Thereās SmokeĀ (6,183 words, Mature)
When Castiel accidentally locks his keys in his car on a miserable, rainy night, a handsome, green-eyed firefighter comes to his rescue. Despite their initial spark, it takes a few tries before they can turn it into something moreā¦
firefighter Dean, bookstore owner Cas, fluff, first meeting, first kiss
Commissioned by @blueeyesandpie for the @fandomtrumpshate auction and written as a gift for @rocksaltandhoney.
The first time Castiel meets Dean Winchester, itās pouring down rain, and heās managed to lock his keys inside his car.
This late at night, all he wants to do is head home and watch Netflix on the couch with his cat. The delivery of stock heād received in the late afternoon still needs to be counted and affixed with price stickers, which means that it has to come home with him. He grunts as he hefts the heavy box onto his hip and carries it awkwardly over to the door, stretching his fingertips up to the light switches. His shop plunges into darkness, lit only by the light of the streetlamps and dimmed by the rain that is falling steadily against the pavement outside.
Of course itās raining, he thinks, grumbling under his breath as he stares through the glass door to where his car is parked, at least twenty feet away. Thereās a small awning on the front of his shop that Cas uses to shield himself from the rain while he locks up, but the cold air bites at his exposed skin and he can feel some of the rain droplets sneaking beneath the collar of his jacket.
Heās going to have to make a run for it.
When he turns, the his face is misted with the same sprayādroplets falling so thick and fast outside the awning that itās impossible to stay dry even here. Three, he counts in his head. Twoā¦ One.
He runs, box clutched awkwardly beneath his arm, and thanks every god thatās out there that the books are plastic-wrapped beneath the cardboard. Cas has his keys ready before he even reaches his car, but in the darkness and the rain, itās hard to see what heās doing. He swears as his key scrapes against metal, trying to find the lock for his trunk.
When it catches, Castiel is quick to shove it all the way in and turn, popping his trunk while trying not to soak the interior in the meantime. The box is shoved in in a hasty, clumsy mess of limbs, and then heās quick to slam the trunk shut. The books are safeāand now itās his turn to get the hell out of the rain before it soaks him all the way down to his skin.
Except for the fact that his car keys are no longer in his hands.
Theyāre also not still in the lock to his trunk, or any of his pockets, or in his bag. Castiel checks every single spot, to no avail. Theyāre nowhere to be found on the ground, either, and itās with a sinking feeling that Castiel realizesā¦ heās locked his keys in the trunk of his car and has, in the process, well and truly fucked himself.
He canāt go home, and he canāt let himself back into the shop, because all the keys he might need for either of those are currently unreachable. At least he has his phone, thoughāthings could be worse, as much as standing out here in the pouring rain well and truly sucks.
Thankfully, he has connections.
He retreats back to the relative shelter of the awning and tries not to shiver from the chill of his saturated clothes as he pulls his phone out of his bag. Inias (his closest friend and the reason he moved to this town a month ago in the first place) should be at work right now, and itās his number that Cas dials with frozen fingers. āPick up, pick up,ā he mutters as he holds the phone up to his ear.
It rings once, twice, and then Inias picks up. āCas, whatās up?ā
Fuck, this is embarrassing. āDonāt laugh at me,ā Castiel warns, before he says anything else. āItās been a long day and this is not how I wanted it to end. Iād give anything to be at home right now, but instead Iām outside the shop, in the fucking rain, and my keys are locked in the trunk. Can you come out and save me, please?ā
For a long few moments, the other end of the line is silent. When Inias speaks again, his voice sounds strainedāas if he is, Castiel guesses, trying very hard not to laugh. āThatās quite the predicament,ā he says, and thereās a definite tone of amusement to his words. āWe donāt really do locked cars any more, thatās the AAAās job, but Iāll make an exception for you.ā He pauses. āOr, at least, I would, if I werenāt buried in paperwork from the house fire we dealt with yesterday. But,ā he adds, before Castiel can start to beg or bribe him into coming out, āI can see if anyone can be spared and Iāll send them to help. You said you were at the shop, right? The stationās close, so you shouldnāt be waiting too long.ā
āYouāre a lifesaver,ā Castiel tells him, honestly and earnestly. He doesnāt know how long he would have had to wait for AAA to come and bail him out, but he suspects that it would be more than long enough for him to lose all feeling in his extremities. Heās already well on his way.
āI know,ā Inias says, sounding more than a little smug about it. āHold tight, and Iāll send someone over, okay?ā
True to Iniasās word, Castiel is only waiting about ten minutes before his knight in shining armor turns up.
Or, more accurately, his knight in a big, red firetruck.
Thank god that all the sane people are currently at home and out of the rain, and thereās no one around to see Castielās embarrassment at having to be rescued by the fire department. His cheeks burn as the truck pulls up into the empty lot a few spaces away from his car. A man jumps out of the driversā side, the hood of his waterproof jacket pulled over his head to protect him from the rain. Initially, heās shrouded in shadows and rain, but as he approaches, Castiel can make out his wide smile, the bowlegged swagger in his gait, the greenness of his eyes beneath the hood.
It wasnāt enough to have to be rescued by a firefighter, but a drop-dead gorgeous one, as well? Inias is doing this to fuck with him, surely.
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