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11 April 2011 @ 06:03 pm
A bit o'fic  
Written for moorishflower who got my 30,000th tweet... but why let Twitter have all the fun?


He probably doesn't even speak English. Sure, he looks white enough, but the guy works construction, and nobody pays minimum wage to actual U.S. citizens to build things anymore, do they? Castiel should know, he reads Daily Kos when he's not helping lawyers reboot their machines, and half the time when he is helping them. It's not exactly a thought-intensive process. He keeps up with politics out of sheer boredom.

So it's the thought of the guy with the wide, friendly face and the perfect arms saying "Hola, no hablo ingles" that keeps Castiel from throwing his socially awkward cares to the wind and sprinting out the door and across the street to engage him in conversation. Because some guys are just worth the risk. Castiel has allowed his heart to break over less. And there ain't much more.

But. There would be no comunicacion. Or communidad. Or whatever the word is. So Castiel just walks very, very slowly to lunch, and molasses-crawls back. Because once the temperature hits 80 degrees, his fantasy Latin lover starts stripping off his shirt and emptying a water bottle over is head at noontime. And Castiel is pretty sure he should post to Daily Kos saying he's found the true cause of global warming.

Soaked buzzed hair... dimples around a wide, carefree grin... muscles rippling as he shakes his head like a dog that's just been in the bath, with cool water and warm sweat mingling indistinguishable on the muscles of his stomach, sliding into his navel...

Castiel is so lost in the visual, standing at the corner waiting for a green light he already missed once, that he almost misses the audio.

"You've gotta be dying in that suit."

It's a soft drawl, subtly Southern and sweet, and for a moment Castiel turns with a hope against hope. But no, it's another worker, this one good-looking, with the caveat that he's so tall he looks like he'd bang his head up in that tight lattice of scaffolding. His hair's too long, and he's sweating copiously too, clad in a gray wife-beater that looks too small to fit a man half his size. Castiel would ogle this, too, but he's been spoiled for choice. There's nothing that even matches the perfection.

He swallows. "Yes, it's... rather unfortunate, but my company has a dress code."

The man laughs, boyish and brash. "Well, that's one thing we can't complain about over here. You work at Sandover, right?"

Is Castiel being flirted with? The man's tone is casual, but there's something curious about his gaze that is putting Castiel on guard. "Across the street, yes. And--" He's at a loss. "You work... here."

The man leans against the wire fence surrounding the site, putting down the heavy bucket he's been carrying. It goes down like it's full of solid brick. "For a few weeks, anyway. It's a good gig. Actually pays. Actually pays *us*." He laughs, an inside joke that Castiel doesn't get. But then again, Castiel is looking past him again, at the rivulet of water running down a perfect hipbone into a secret space beneath the waistband of muddy jeans...

"I'm Sam." A dirty hand is thrust forward.

Castiel balks. "I should go--"

"No, no, man, come on. Not creepy. Just we see you every day, figured I'd say hi."

The smile is so disarming that Castiel ruefully extends a hand. "Castiel."

"Whoa." Sam looks unexpectedly pleased. "Dean was right. Where's that from?"

"I'm sorry?" Sam's pumping his hand too vigorously for Castiel to make much sense of that.

"Oh, my brother, Dean, he figured you were European. He says you look foreign. Figured you didn't even speak English, actually."

And Sam hooks a thumb back toward the man Castiel's been staring at for the past few months.

Castiel's jaw drops heavier than the damn bucket. Dean. His name is Dean. He's probably got a Southern drawl, like his brother. Easy grin and perfect arms and he speaks English and now he's leaning back, his chin tilting up to the sky, basking in summer sunlight.

And then, in what seems like the slo-mo of a movie scene, he angles his head toward Castiel and catches his eye.

Droplets of sweat shake off his skin. He raises his hand. And he waves.

Castiel shucks off his jacket for fear of fainting from the heat.
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Kevin Jonesmulder200 on April 11th, 2011 10:17 pm (UTC)
LOL! Perfect!
Melaniemelalucci on April 11th, 2011 10:28 pm (UTC)
MORE! :-D
Sianne: Cas Halosi_star_x on April 11th, 2011 10:40 pm (UTC)
Oh my gosh. Are you serious?! This was insanely hot. Oh, wow. Okay. I can't be coherent because the imagery makes me weak at the knees, and this? "Hola, no hablo ingles" just made me crack the heck up. Have you heard Bowling For Soup's song?! My favourite band in the whole wide world, and them aside, the idea of Dean or Sam or Cas saying this... it's too adorable for words. This is so awesome. When you hit 40,000 tweets you should do a continuation, or y'know, whenever. I loved this! I'm such a sucker for a sweaty, gorgeous man. Cas too, he's perfectly amazing.
JagfanLJ: Lovejagfanlj on April 11th, 2011 11:12 pm (UTC)
*knees buckle*
TRU FAX -- It's hard to giggle when you're gasping at TEH HAWT. I am in awe of your awesomeness, and THIS the rivulet of water running down a perfect hipbone into a secret space is the awesome-sauce on top of it all.

moorishflower is a lucky, lucky girl. :D


Concrit: Don't like, don't read. :)
One tiny flaw marred the story for me, even though I know it's the trendy term. "Wife-beater" is... disturbing, not only for the triggering image, but for the demeaning qualities it implies the wearer possesses. I know you didn't intend either of those things, but I wish people would call them what they are: tank tops. :-/
princess_aleera: Awakeprincess_aleera on April 11th, 2011 11:16 pm (UTC)
AHAHAHAH.

*claps hands and squees in glee*

MORE PLZ KTHX.

O.o
9tiptoes9tiptoes on April 11th, 2011 11:43 pm (UTC)
Please, please tell me there will be a second part. Omg, I am so keyed up & ready for more.
Jena Bartley: spn - brothers Impalajenab on April 11th, 2011 11:52 pm (UTC)
Oh yummy. To have that working outside my workplace. Really loved the imagery.
Moorishmoorishflower on April 11th, 2011 11:59 pm (UTC)
INDEED, because this sort of excellence should be shared with everybody! <3 Really loved it babe! :DDD
cousinmarycousinmary on April 12th, 2011 03:06 am (UTC)
Loved this! Part 2, please???? ;-)
baba_o_reily: gay!baba_o_reily on April 12th, 2011 03:16 am (UTC)
Chaos, Panic, Pandemonium – my work here is done.: supernatural--sam obsessionriveroceansea on April 12th, 2011 04:22 am (UTC)


I'm glad I didn't wait until morning to read this.

Maybe Dean will let Cas pour a little water on him??

:Fans self:
wickedvirtue on April 12th, 2011 06:12 pm (UTC)
You used their actual accents! And recognized Castiel/Misha's foreign facial architecture!

I AM BITING MY LIP AND WISHING THERE WERE THOUSANDS MORE WORDS.

(Are there more words? Please say yes.)
Ra Jollyreigningfyre on April 18th, 2011 02:04 am (UTC)
I like how Castiel's first reaction to eye contact with Dean is to strip. Oh Cas, how shameless. XD
mancrave: manmancrave on February 2nd, 2012 11:59 pm (UTC)
Um. Construction worker, half-naked Dean? One please? Oh ok, what the hell, I'll take two, seeing as you've so nicely presented him and all. Or, you know, I'd totally settle for construction worker, half-naked Dean and his construction worker giant of a brother in sweaty clothes.

No wonder Cas had to take his jacket off. If I were him, I might have lost more than just a jacket though.

Also, let the comments!spam begin *cackles*
Tiptoe39tiptoe39 on February 3rd, 2012 12:01 am (UTC)
*CACKLING TOO* omg yay. yay yay yay. I'm SO in favor of this. *smish*