P.S. I Love You
Genre: Friendship, Romance
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, Jimmy/Amelia
Summary: [AU fic] Castiel Novak's otherwise boring job at the library takes an unexpected detour when anonymous love letters addressed to him begin to appear down the returns chute. Jimmy Novak finds the situation hilarious - it's about time that his twin brother got some action - and helps to engineer a plan to discover the identity of the mystery sender. Except Castiel isn't so sure about all this; maybe the childhood crush on his best friend Dean that hasn't exactly faded along with childhood has something to do with that... Destiel, Sabriel, and Jimmy/Amelia MULTICHAPTER.
AN: Well, hello there, my little sock puppets! I am back with a new Destiel story for you all to enjoy! Hooray!
Inspired by a Tumblr prompt from a blog called OTP Prompts! Go check 'em out! (The prompt kind of gives away the storyline more than the actual summary does and we don't want that, but I'll put it at the end.)
Updates will be as regular as I can make them; obviously, I have to prioritize university applications/school/personal statements...(bleh).
DISCLAIMER. I do not own Supernatural.
1. On The Job
"I SAY LA, LA LA LA LA, LA LA LA LA - Can't this shit-heap of yours go any faster?"
Castiel Novak pulled his gaze away from the bumper of the slow-moving Chevy in front to send a glare in the direction of his passenger. His twin brother Jimmy was currently sprawled across his seat, feet perched on the dashboard, using his left hand to brush away the flakes of pastry that now covered his slacks whilst the other hand was clamped around some kind of bread-based food he'd bought from the grocery store twenty minutes earlier.
"Jimmy," Cas began, tone not amused. "Just because I agreed to chauffeur you round for the foreseeable future does not mean that you have the right to start complaining about my car." He nodded towards the roof of the vehicle - or, as Jimmy had started calling it, "the tin can on wheels". "If you hate riding with me in my car so much, you should have thought about that before you crashed your own."
"Hey!" Jimmy protested, pulling a face around his mouthful of food. "In my defence, that plant pot came out of no where! No one could have caught it in time!" He paused to swallow. "Besides, Breaking Bad was on, and you know Gabriel always comes over to watch it at our place because the reception in his apartment is crap. I couldn't be late picking him up. That would just be rude."
"Except you were late, and you didn't pick him up. I did." Cas rolled his eyes, irked; having spent the last half an hour driving around their corner of the Lawrence neighbourhood listening to his twin complain about his boss, moan about how hungry he was, and put his tone-deaf singing voice to good use by belting out every single 80s hit that the radio station decided to play this early in the morning, he really wasn't in the mood to listen to Jimmy try to blame Mr and Mrs Braeden's plant pot for his troubles. Plus, he was never going to be able to listen to Simple Minds ever again after hearing Jimmy's voice mixed in with Jim Kerr's.
"C'mon, Cas, step on it," Jimmy said again after a beat of silence. "Crowley will have my ass served up to him on a silver platter if I'm late again."
"Why didn't you just call Amelia and get her to drive you around?" Cas replied. "She works at the same freaking radio station as you do."
"Yeah, well, y'know..." Jimmy shifted in his seat, a light dusting of red starting to blossom over his cheeks. "I didn't wanna bother her."
"So you decided to bother me instead?"
Castiel hadn't exactly been pleased (to put it mildly) when Jimmy called - at eleven o'clock at night, he might add - garbling about his car's tires now being full of chunks of ceramic plant pot, and, oh God, how the hell was he going to be able to afford new ones, and could Castiel please, please, please get his lazy ass out of bed and come and pick him up, and also drive him to work for the rest of the week...or month...or decade?
Oh, and the next morning's newspaper would be swell too.
Jimmy seemed to have forgotten that Castiel now had a job too (a proper one, not just a few odd night shifts here and there at the Gas-N-Sip) - or, at least, he would do, if his half hour detour transporting Jimmy around didn't get him fired before he even made it through his first day.
Jimmy was grinning. "You're my little brother, Cas. Bothering you should be in my job description."
Castiel let out a sigh. "You're older than me by approximately two minutes, Jimmy. Two minutes. That's one hundred and twenty seconds. I don't think people really count that when determining who is older."
"Yes, they do. It still counts."
"No, it doesn't."
"Yes, it does."
"No, it doesn't."
"Yes, it does."
Cas shook his head. Jimmy was like a dog with a bone when it came to the age thing. "Fine. Whatever you say."
Jimmy nodded, looking triumphant. "Thank you." He leant back against the passenger seat, licking his fingers clean of any trace of food. His phone buzzed in his pocket a second later; he sighed when he took a look at it a few moments later.
"Is Crowley sharpening his knife and fork?"
"No. It's Amelia. She wants to know where I am. There's doughnuts in the staff lounge this morning." His voice sounded almost wistful - although whether it was because of Amelia or because of the food he was missing out on, Castiel wasn't exactly sure. He rolled his eyes at his brother for good measure.
"Do you ever stop eating?" It was a wonder Jimmy didn't explode considering the amount of hours he spent consuming some kind of foodstuff.
"Not really, no." Jimmy shrugged. "What can I say? Work drives me to over-eating."
"Jimmy, you'll a sales provider for AM Radio. How exactly does that drive you to over-eating?"
"Trust me, little bro, if you had Crowley for a boss, you'd binge-eat to cope with it too." He grinned as Cas swerved suddenly and let his car idle on the edge of the sidewalk outside the radio station offices, grabbing his briefcase and pecking his brother on the cheek, laughing at Castiel's noise of protest as he jumped out of the passenger door.
"Good luck, baby brother!" He called over his shoulder.
"Two minutes, Jimmy!" Cas yelled after his retreating back. Jimmy merely raised a fist in the air as a parting gesture, his cackling chuckle echoing through the air. Castiel shook his head and pulled away from the sidewalk, pressing his foot down on the accelerator.
Despite Jimmy's inability to look after his own car, Castiel managed to get his rusty heap of a vehicle moving at a speed that allowed him to reach the particular Lawrence library he wanted on time. Marv, a older man in glasses with gray hair that stuck out in tufts around his head came out to greet him and introduced himself as "Metatron", which confused Castiel immensely because Marv was clearly written across his name badge. But, it was a "long story", apparently, and so he didn't dare ask, even out of politeness.
None of the few other staff on duty looked as comfortable with the idea of working in amongst the stacks upon stacks of books as he did, he noticed, as Marv-But-You-Can-Call-Me-Metatron politely showed him around (not that there was really much to see besides the almost empty staff lounge and the tiny office nicknamed "the back room" where all the returned books were categorised). The only other employee that seemed to notice his addition to the team was Meg, a scowling brunette girl slumped behind the counter, picking at her coal-coloured nails. She did, however, give him something of a feral grin when she noticed him observing her, an expression that made him feel incredibly uncomfortable.
"You'll get used to Meg eventually," Metatron replied when Cas voiced his thoughts. "She's always like that; great with the customers though."
"I'm sure," Cas replied, trying to sound civil, but failing as his tone of voice gave away his disbelief.
Metatron obviously noticed it. "I'm being serious. The kids especially love her."
"They do?" He risked another glance at Meg. During the small amount of time they'd been talking, a customer had gone up to ask about something that he couldn't hear properly; the brunette looked as if the whole enquiry bored her immensely and she would much rather get back to sulking in silence. One had to wonder about the youth of today if what Metatron was saying was true. Cas quickly pulled his eyes away before Meg could notice and give him another one of her predatory looks.
"Do you have many people working here?" He asked Metatron instead, more out of courtesy than actual interest.
"Oh, yeah, 'course," the other replied breezily. "We're very popular with the university students who live around here, for employment and for study resources."
Cas took a moment to glance over his shoulder at the rows upon rows of shelves that weren't being gazed upon by anyone. For a fleeting moment, he wondered whether or not he'd like to see what Metatron considered not being very popular. "Uh hu. I, uh, I don't doubt that."
"Uh, excuse me?" Both of the two men turned to look in the direction of the new voice; it was the customer whom Cas had seen talking to Meg a mere few seconds earlier. "Just thought I'd let you know that the returns chute is blocked; I mentioned it to the girl on the counter, but she just directed me over to you..." The woman looked between the two of them and shuffled uncomfortably. "Oh. I interrupted something, didn't I?"
"No, no," Metatron reassured her. "Don't worry about it. We're mostly done here, right, Cas?" He looked expectantly towards the younger man, clapping him on the back and almost knocking the air right from his lungs.
"Yes?" It sounded more like another question than a response.
"Well, in that case, could you deal with this situation? S'just we're a little rushed off our feet today, so we'll need all the help we can get."
Castiel frowned for a moment - he could count, at most, three customers browsing the shelves, and two younger children sitting at their mother's feet whilst she paid them no attention - but he quickly masked the expression and nodded. "Alright."
"Excellent!" Metatron gave both of them a gap-toothed smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me - Hey! No running!" He took off after the runaway children, almost losing his glasses off the end of his nose in the process.
Castiel turned to address the woman in front of him. "The returns chute leads into the back room. I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks." After a moment of hesitation, the woman pushed a wayward strand of hair from her face, following him as he made a start towards the back room. "This your first day?"
"Is it really that obvious?"
"I come here a lot." She gave him a small shrug. "It's easy for me to spot a new face in amongst the crowd." There was a pause, as if she was uncertain about voicing her next words. "I'm Hannah, by the way. Just in case you're interested."
"Hannah? As in favoured by God?"
"Yeah." She let out an unamused snort. "Daughter of Christian parents. Bible name kind of goes with the territory. Why do you ask?"
He gave her a sheepish kind of smile. "I'm Castiel."
"What? You're kidding!" Hannah's face broke out into a grin.
"I'm afraid not."
"Well, then." Dimples appeared around her baby blue eyes, making them look childlike and gleeful. "Guess us bible kids better stick together."
"I guess so," Cas agreed, holding Hannah's gaze for a second longer with another smile of his own, before he slipped into the back room, quickly locating the tray that holds the returned books. Hannah was right - there was a book jammed in the way. A book about bees, no less. Considering Castiel's love of bees, it could almost be poetic.
A folded piece of paper slid from between the pages of aforementioned book as Cas pulled it free from the chute, fluttering to the floor. He stooped to retrieve it, fingers ready to crumple it up into a ball and send it in a graceful arch towards the recycling bin, but the sight of his name scrawled in looped handwriting on the front stopped him. Curious, he opened it.
Hey there, Blue Eyes, was all it said.
Cas frowned, instinctively turning to look behind him, as if in some kind of hope that the writer of the little note would be standing behind him in order to gauge his reaction. Unsurprisingly, he found the room empty. Instead, he idly traced the words on the paper with his finger. This had to be some kind of joke. Probably just a prank or something, a wind up for the new employee, because stuff like this never really happened to Castiel Novak. Never happened at all.
Sighing, he stuffed the note into his pocket to puzzle over later, and went to inform Hannah that the problem was solved and the chute was now unblocked.
"What's that face for?"
Jimmy let out a groan as he slammed the passenger door, leaning his head back against the seat whilst Cas checked the review mirror and pulled away from the sidewalk and onto the road. "Crowley caught us before we could sneak out at the end of shift. Gave us some big long rant about how deal numbers are dropping, or something of the like. I wasn't actually paying that much attention." He sighed wistfully. "Oh, and they were all out of biscuits in the cafeteria at lunch. I had to contend with a breadstick instead."
"Do you ever stop thinking about your stomach?"
Jimmy sent him his usual sarcastic expression, one which Cas often found himself calling The Understatement face in his mind. "I haven't eaten in three hours, Cas. Three hours. I'm starving."
Cas rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't exactly call you starving, Jimmy. You eat like food's going out of fashion, for Gods sake. Look, there's a half eaten sandwich in that bag in the glove compartment there if you're that desperate -"
"Where?" Jimmy demanded in an almost feral manner, eyes circling the compartment before he pounced on the grocery store bag, ripping the sandwich from its plastic container and shoving it into his mouth, making a noise of relief as he chewed. Castiel screwed up his face.
"Jimmy, even for you, that's disgusting."
"Hey!" Came the muffled response through a mouthful of sandwich. "At least I actually eat; you hardly eat anything at all. Look at you! You're like a twig!"
"There's no need for personal comments, Jimmy."
"Hm." Was all he got in reply as Jimmy finished off the rest of the sandwich, even licking the crumbs out of the packet, much to Castiel's discomfort. "How was work?"
"Oh..." Cas let go of the steering wheel for a moment to wave his hand through the air in a dismissive fashion. "It was okay."
"Okay? That's it?" Jimmy frowned at him. "C'mon, that's an understatement, if I ever heard one; there's got to be more to it than that! What the hell did you even find to do for eight hours? What were the people like? Were they nice?" A smirk crossed his face. "Did you meet a special someone? A hot chick or something?"
"No!" Castiel insisted. The only female member of staff he'd met so far was Meg, and that hadn't exactly been pleasant. He'd spent the majority of the day trying to avoid her. Jimmy, however, was looking unconvinced. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm just going to let you talk in your own time. Because I'm a supportive big brother like that."
Cas rolled his eyes at the words, mumbling "Two minutes, Jimmy," under his breath, and stomped on the gas pedal, ignoring the whines of protest that emerged from his car's engine, and didn't slow up again until he saw the familiar house of the Winchesters up ahead.
Castiel and Jimmy had known the Winchesters for years, ever since they were five years old, when Novak family - consisting of the twins, their parents, and their half brother Gabriel - had moved up to Lawrence from Pontiac, Illinois during the summer before they started Kindergarten and settled in the house next door. Mary Winchester, having heard from her husband that Cas, Jimmy and Dean were the same age and were due to start school at the same time, had decided to invite the new additions to the street over for dinner one night, which had struck up the friendship between the two families, and particularly between Dean and Cas, taking an instant liking to each other when they found that they shared a love of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The two of them had been close ever since that day, which was now nearly thirty years ago, closer than Jimmy and Dean became, and much much much closer than Dean and Gabriel had ever been. Dean had ultimately been thrilled when his little brother Sam had latched onto Gabriel and therefore kept him out of the way. It was a bit of a surprise to everyone when they had gotten together a little over a year ago; Dean now loved to complain to Cas about how he couldn't get rid of Gabe any longer, because he was always turning up at his front door, unannounced, regardless of whether he was supposed to be working or not, wanting to see his "favourite Samsquatch".
In fact, Gabriel's car was already parked directly outside, behind Dean's Chevy Impala, when Castiel pulled up in front of the house, and he could hear Gabriel's voice echoing from somewhere in the basement, clashing with the soft sounds of someone playing guitar in the living room, when he stepped into the hallway and proceeded to hang his battered trenchcoat on one of the hooks by the front door. Jimmy, of course, prioritized his stomach over everything else, and so made a beeline straight towards the kitchen, Castiel at least ten steps behind him; he was seated at the kitchen table, smelling the air as his fingers drummed on the tabletop.
"Is that gingerbread?"
"I've learnt that I have to prepare dinner for at least twenty when you come over, Jimmy," Mary Winchester replied with a slight chuckle, fastening a bobby-pin into her blonde hair, pushing a plate of cookies across the counter. Jimmy took two and crammed them into his mouth, making an appreciative noise as he did so.
"Really, Jimmy?" Castiel stared at him.
"Wha'?" His twin mumbled, too busy enjoying the food to form proper words.
"You literally just inhaled a sandwich less than five minutes ago."
"I'm hungry," Was all Jimmy could say in reply, before making another contended sound. "Mrs Winchester, you are a goddess of cooking, let me tell you that."
Cas rolled his eyes, choosing to back out of the room instead of staying to watching the spectacle, deciding to go and seek out the search out the source of the guitar playing, pausing at the living room doorway. Dean was settled on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table, plucking absentmindedly at the strings of the guitar sitting in his lap. Cas felt his mouth pull up into a smile, resting his head against the varnished wooden door frame, listening and appreciating the soulful, almost melancholy sounds emitting from the room. A few minutes later, however, Dean switched to something more upbeat, strumming the familiar chords to Smoke On The Water, inclining his head towards the doorway.
"You gonna stand there all day or what, Cas?"
Cas let out a snicker. His best friend seemed to have a knack of sensing whenever he was around. "How did you know it was me?"
"Because if you were Sammy and Gabriel, you would've already walked in here and started makin' out right in front of me to put me off, and if you were Mom, you would've requested I play Hey Jude by now. Logically, the only person it could be was you."
"You don't know that." Cas moved from his spot by the doorway and perched on the arm of the couch, hands stuffed into his pockets, watching his best friend of nearly thirty years with a smile. "I could have been Jimmy, after all."
"Please. If Jimmy even managed to haul his ass away from Mom's cooking, he'd be standin' behind me eatin' already, and I think I would pick up on that." The two of them shared a chuckle.
"Someone say m'name?" Jimmy had materialised into the room, having managed to drag himself away from the kitchen, carrying a paper plate of gingerbread cookies. "Seriously, Winchester, your mom can cook like no one else. This is some good stuff." He slumped down on the couch in between Dean and his twin, grinning. "I can see why you don't venture far from home; I know I wouldn't if our mom cooked like this." He took another bite of a cookie. "Hey, man, how's it going with that girl you're dating? Lia, or whatever her name is?"
"Lisa," Cas corrected.
Jimmy pulled a face at his brother's input (or "nitpicking", as he would often call it). "Close enough."
"As in Lisa Braeden," Dean informed him. "As in the daughter of the couple whose plant pot is currently sandwiched in your car's tires."
"Oh, crap." Jimmy made a spluttered coughing sound, trying to keep from choking on his chunk of cookie. "That was their plant pot?"
"Yeah. Well done there, genius." Dean rolled his eyes.
"You can pass on my apologies to them over Sunday dinner, right? I mean, I'd do it myself, but I think Mr Braeden might shoot me if I come within three metres of their house."
"Yeah, well, I think we'd both get shot, actually." Dean gave a shrug. "Me and Lisa kinda broke it off last night."
Jimmy let out a wordless noise of condolence, whilst Cas murmured his sorrow at this. Dean had really liked Lisa; he had seen it in his face, ever since he'd wandered into the kitchen a few months ago after his usual day at the garage with a smile at least a mile wide, a smile that Mary had to plug with around three pieces of cherry pie before her eldest son finally admitted that he'd met a girl. Dean had had many short-lived flings in the past, Cas remembered, but his relationship was Lisa was something that the Winchester had taken very seriously, something he hadn't done since middle school, and middle school relationships weren't exactly what a group of people now in their thirties would consider serious.
Dean gave his friends a half smile. "Yeah, well, y'know, just wasn't meant to be, I guess."
"Look on the bright side," Jimmy cut in, now that he had hoovered up his plate of food. "You're doing better in love than what Castiel is. Although, to be fair, that ain't exactly hard to do."
"Wow. Thank you, Jimmy. It appears that I can always rely on you," Castiel replied in a sarcastic monotone.
Jimmy let out a laugh, unabashed. "You're just being bitter because you know that I'm right."
"You don't know that." The thought of the note, still crumpled in his coat pocket, popped into his mind without his permission.
"Oh, yeah?" Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "Are you finally ready to tell us all about the hot babe, then?"
"Hot -? What hot babe?" Dean looked confused. "Cas?"
"He met a girl at work today," Jimmy supplied.
"No, I didn't!" Castiel persisted. "There were no "hot babes" -" He made quotation marks around the word "- I can assure you."
"A hot guy, then?"
"No! No girls, no guys, no anything!"
"Huh." Jimmy's amused expression had slipped now. "Well, that sounds mind-numbingly dull."
Hey there, Blue Eyes.
"Yes. Exactly." Cas gave his brother a playful shove. "Mind-numbingly dull. That sounds accurate."