It was 7:50 a.m. and Dean had ten minutes to get to work. The problem was that he had woken up late because he forgot to set on the alarm the previous night. He had taken a quick shower and dressed without really seeing what he was putting on himself. He didn't have time for breakfast but he hoped there was coffee at the office when he got there.
The sky was darker than usual, and as he walked towards the bus stop, he could feel raindrops falling on his head and shoulders, at first one after another, then all at once. Dammit, he forgot to bring an umbrella. Stupid weather, why didn't it warned him before letting him leave the house?
The bus stop was already filled with impatient people -all with umbrellas over their heads-. Dean didn't even have a hoodie or something to protect himself of the rain, so he stood there awkwardly, trying to make himself as small as possible, hoping he could afford to buy a car. The man before him in the queue was holding a black umbrella. It wasn't really big, but if Dean stepped a little closer, then perhaps he wouldn't feel the rain hitting him so hard.
Castiel was tired of waiting and wondered why he didn't have a car. Right, because he hated driving. He was cold and moody and he wished he was still sleeping at his apartment. He hated his job even more on rainy days. Through the noise the rain was making, he could hear, or rather feel, another person shivering from the cold. He turned his head and saw another man standing closer than he had anticipated, his arms around himself. His eyes were green and his brown hair was wet. He wasn't wearing a raincoat or anything similar. Castiel's heart shrank inside his chest when he saw that the man was only trying to protect himself a little from the rain by standing under the edge of Castiel's umbrella.
"Sorry, man," the man started, but Castiel offered more of his umbrella.
"Don't worry, we can share."
"Thank you so much," the man exhaled and moved an inch closer to him.
They waited together for the bus to arrive. When it appeared before them, the rain was receding. Castiel closed his umbrella and they both climbed the bus. They sat on different seats but Castiel found himself eyeing the other man's profile from time to time. It was a nice profile.
The next morning, Dean was prepared. He had his own umbrella and so when it started raining he opened it and walked down the street without worrying about getting wet at first thing in the morning.
When he saw the man from the day before standing under his own umbrella, he decided that he wanted to talk to him.
"Hey, man," he said a bit timidly. He didn't want to be a creep, but he had thought about the man's eyes all day.
The man turned, startled, but when he saw him, he relaxed and actually smiled slightly.
"Hello," the man said with his warm voice. "I see you brought your own umbrella this time."
Dean laughed. "Yeah, I didn't want to bother you with my wet presence."
The man smiled again but Dean thought he saw something else on his ace. Sadness, maybe?
"Oh, you didn't bother me at all."
There were a few seconds of silence, apart from the constant sound of the rain. Dean didn't know what to say to that, because it seemed that the guy was being honest rather than polite. So Dean blushed and averted his eyes, hoping the bus came early today.
It didn't rain the day after that, but Castiel saw the man already on the bus stop and he waved a hand awkwardly at him when he saw him. The man grinned at him, and Castiel was glad that he wasn't mad at him for what had happened yesterday. Castiel had only thought of telling the truth. There was another person standing between them but for some reason, the green-eyed man kept turning his head to look at him. His hair was dry, of course, and it looked stylish and so soft.
It was like they both had wanted to sit next to each other. There was a couple of seats in the back that were empty and they both walked there. The other man cleared his throat and let him sit first. Castiel didn't want to think much about it but he felt like he was dreaming.
They talked. They talked about their jobs - Castiel was an accountant in his family's multinational corporation and the other man worked in IT for a local company-. For some reason, the other man seemed ashamed of what he did so Castiel felt the need to tell him that it sounded like a very interesting job. Castiel didn't even like his job, despite earning enough money.
Only when they both exited the bus on different stops, Castiel realized that he never told the other man his name. Not that the man told him his name either.
Dean cursed himself for not asking the guy what his name was. He had started to think about his blue eyes and his spiky black hair all the time, but he didn't even know his name.
He went to bed, raindrops hitting his bedroom window. He wondered was the guy was doing. Was he even single? Had he a family that waited for him at home every evening?
Nothing like having sad thought before falling asleep.
He woke earlier than usual. He had dreamed about sad blue eyes and he decided that he wanted to make this man happy. Or at least, he could try it.
He bought a coffee from the coffee shop next to his apartment and walked towards the bus stop just like he did every morning.
Dean saw the man standing comfortably there, with his hand buried inside his trench coat pockets.
"Hey," Dean said. The man didn't hide his smile this time.
"Uh, this-this is for you," Dean mumbled, holding out the coffee, and hoped he wasn't blushing.
"Oh," the man said, staring at it with surprise. Dean wondered if this had been a bad idea. But the man took the coffee. Their fingers brushed. "Thank you..."
"Dean. My name is Dean Winchester," Dean supplied, relieved.
"Thank you, Dean. And I am Castiel Novak."
"May I make you happy?" Dean blurted out. Both stared at each other, eyes wide and cheeks pink.
"You may," Castiel answered, looking at his own hand, gripping his coffee tightly. Dean took hold of Castiel's other hand and waited for the bus to arrive.
Six months later
Castiel had written several books while he worked as an accountant and it was Dean who convinced him to send them to several publishers. One never knows, he had said. So Castiel did, and now he was a best-selling author who never had to wait for the bus to get to work because he worked from the commodity of his new home, the one he shared with Dean. Dean was still IT, but he had gotten another job with a better salary, so he finally could afford a decent car.
So now they didn't share umbrellas on rainy mornings at the bus stop, but they loved having dates on rainy nights, with only one umbrella.