A/N Wincest AU #34555, it seems like. I swear, I'll get off this kick soon. Anyways, weird fandom cross of the character of Misha, who's just a little too adorable to leave on his own.


"Would a janitor please report to room 244. Janitor to room 244. Thank you."

Dean hung his head and groaned at the intercom, throwing down his wrench and wiping his greasy hands on a nearby rag.

This was the third call he'd gotten the last two days, and he was tired of showing up and cleaning puke.

Being a janitor at Hartford Elementary was pretty simple, usually. The pay wasn't great, but who really went into the janitor business thinking, "Ooh, I'll make tons of money?"

Dean got off the basement floor and stretched, feeling the bones in his shoulders pop as he straightened himself up.
He had been fixing up some pipes when the call went through, and while he didn't revel in the fact that he was going to spend the next hour mopping up puke, it at least meant he could get off his ass, which was currently numb.

"It's Dean." He said into his walkie-talkie. "I got this."
The office buzzed him back, a familiar voice on the line.

"Jesus, this is like the third kid this week! And it's not even Wednesday!" Misha, the male secretary grumbled over the line. "What's up with all these kids getting sick?"

Dean spoke back into the receiver. "I dunno man. Just be glad you're not the one cleaning it up."
He could feel Misha shudder from the basement.

"Yeah man, sucks to be you."
"I don't see you gettin' off your ass to help."

Misha's voice came over a little squeaky. "Nope, got tons of stuff to do. Ah, filing! Yeah, tons of filing!"

Bullshit. "You have fun with that, Misha."

He made his way up the stairs then, going up to the second floor where room 244 was.
"Oh, bye the way, Dean.." Misha's voice crackled over the walkie-talkie.

"There's a new teacher for that room. Name's Winchester or something. Hot new piece of ass, according to the rest of the ladies here in the office."

Dean heard a few giggles before Misha clicked the microphone off.

"Where's Lownds?" Dean asked as he climbed the stairs, interested.

"Vacation, I guess." Was Misha's reply. "Lemme know if he's hot." Came before the signal cut off.

"Will do." Dean said, sighing a little as he came around the corner where the second floor mops were.

"You feeling lucky, punk?" He asked the mops when he found them in the creepy, chemical-smelling closet.

They didn't reply.

He grabbed the awful cherry scented powder they made you throw on the barf(and fuck that stuff was worse than the barf sometimes) and added it to the mop bucket.

"Yeah, me neither." He told the mops.

The sounds of retching filled room 244 as Sam Winchester, substitute K5 teacher pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

"Not again, Adam!"
The tiny k5 year old was coughing into for the third time in the last half an hour. Where was the damn janitor?

"Someone get him a bucket!" Sam said as he moved towards the door to wait for the janitor.
None of the kids moved, staying at the corners of the room like the puke was ground zero.
He didn't really blame them, but he felt bad for Adam, who was still retching. Poor kid looked like a ghost, pale and sweating all over the place.

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the door.

"Janitor." Came a gravelly voice.

Sam sighed in relief, opening the door to a green clothed guy, who bumped by way too fast for Sam to see him.

"Oh thank God you're here." Sam said to him, gesturing for the kids (And the barf-covered Adam) to exit to the other room across the hall, where the other kindergarten teacher was waiting. After waiting around like they didn't know what to do for a half hour, though.

The man moved forward with the bucket until he got to the kid, and by default, the puke splattering the center of the wood floor.

"Y'all right?" The janitor asked, wringing the mop out after spreading the cherry-scented dust all over the blast area, and Sam looked at him.

He went a little breathless, ashamed to say.

Slightly-laughing green eyes stared back at him from a pale, handsome face. Blonde hair reflected in the dim lighting (Which Sam kept hitting with his head, stupid low ceilings)

"Uh, yeah." Sam said after a few seconds of dumbly staring at the hot janitor who had no right to be that pretty. "I'm fine."

The man seemed to smile a little, and Sam realized that he was standing alone in a room covered in puke and staring at the school's cute janitor.


Hell no. Man was prettier than some girls he knew.

"So, ah, how's it going?" Sam asked awkwardly, trying to ease the tension.

"Fine." The guy said, tilting his face away from Sam like he didn't want to look at him.

The janitor went on with his job, pretty much ignoring Sam and acting like it was all he did all week, and from what Sam'd heard from the other teachers, it probably was. The kids had been passing around a stomach flu for a couple days now, and it'd been about the third call of "Janitor" Sam had heard just this week. Jesus. He didn't envy that guy's job.

"You want some help?" Sam asked a few minutes of watching (The janitor's ass) as he cleaned up.

"No," The man said, wringing out the mop one last time. "Looks good. Kid going home?"

Sam nodded. "Yep. Poor kid practically projectile vomited all over the place."

The guy nodded sharply, almost briskly, and began wheeling the mops out the door with a quick


Sam looked on as he disappeared. Was it something he said?

Holy crap. Was Dean's first thought when the classroom door.

Misha hadn't been lying when he said there was a hot new piece of ass residing in room 244. Guy was a giant, all tan skin and white dress shirt and Dean had to keep his eyes on the (disgusting) puke so he wouldn't drool.

The guy's face lit up like it was Christmas when Dean rolled the mops in, and by the look of the classroom, Dean didn't have to wonder why.

There was vomit all over the floor, pink and disgusting with chunks in it, complete with a still currently throwing up kid in the center of the room.

The new teacher was standing to the side of the room, watching his kids across the hall as he pinched his nose subconsciously.

Dean worked up the nerve to look at him straight on.

"Y'all right?" He asked, trying not to squeal as the man's gorgeous blue-green eyes settled on him.

"Uhh, yeah. I'm fine," The new teacher said in a tired voice.

Dean blushed as the man smiled a little, too embarrassed to make anymore conversation.

He totally didn't notice that it was deep and slightly musical voice, because he was a janitor and he had a job to do.

He wasn't here to ogle the new teachers.

Besides, he wasn't good at conversation. Maybe that's why he was a janitor.

That didn't stop him from sneaking a glance at Winchester's (That was the name on the door) ass as he cleaned up the vomit.

"So, ah, how's it going?" Came Winchester's voice from behind him, making him pause slightly and hope the guy didn't like talking a lot. Dean was NOT going to embarrass himself.

"Fine." He said shortly, proud of himself when it didn't squeak.

There was a shuffle behind him, and then:

"You want some help?"

Dean almost snorted. Mr. White Dress Shirt was gonna come help him clean up vomit?

"No. " He said, finishing up. "Looks good. Kid going home?" He turned and tried not to stare too much, but damn those were some ripped muscles. Dean was totally gonna gonna ask Misha more about Winchester before the day was up.

"Yep." Winchester said. "Poor kid practically projectile vomited all over the place."

He looked tired, but Dean could still see the eager teacher beneath. Maybe it was his first day on the job?

"Yep." Dean acknowledged that with a nod.

He wheeled the mops out as quick as he could without stumbling, and if he jumped Misha later for information, it was no one's fault but Misha's.

A/N More to come later! Leave me a review! You like? J