Spray Cans and Coffee Cups

4: Angel at the Diner

A/N: Sorry for the longish wait... I've only really had motivation to write destiel oneshots. (not that I'm complaining, I like writing those.) I'm not sure if anyone's actually reading this, anyways? Do you guys like this fic?

     Dean pushed the last of his spray cans and brushes haphazardly into his bag, trying to hurry. Each scuffle and scrape seemed deafening in the dark quiet of the alleyway, and he winced with each small noise. 

     He was normally much more relaxed, but something about the nature of the painting had him worried- not to mention the subject of it. 

     "It's a painting, Gabriel," a low voice scoffed. The words echoed in the quiet, and Dean began to curse softly under his breath.  

     Speak of the devil.

     Dean froze mid-step, halting any movement that might give him away. He shifted carefully to the edge of the alleyway, leaning into the dark shadow of the building, and peered onto the street.

     Officer Novak- Castiel- stood at the edge of the sidewalk.  He was glaring at another officer, and Dean watched silently as he elbowed the other man with a chuckle. 

     Officer Novak shook his head, peering back at Dean's painting, and Dean shrunk back into the shadows. 

     The man couldn't technically arrest him- as long as he didn't find Dean's supplies- but he didn't want to risk himself on a technicality, especially with this particular man. 

     Both officers turned towards the car they came from, and Dean sagged against the wall behind him, sighing with relief. He sank down, his boots scuffing against the concrete- and Officer Novak turned sharply in his direction.

     Oh, shit.

     Dean took a sharp breath in- steeling himself- and shifted closer to the street. He saw Officer Novak's eyes narrow- squinting sharply and dangerously close to seeing him- and froze in a moment of indecision. 

     His body moved before his brain caught up with the situation, and before Dean could fully process just how bad an idea this was, he had stepped out into full view, the streetlights casting deep shadows across his face.

     He'd always been impulsive, but this was a whole new level. 

     Dean saw Officer Novak's eyes widen- marginally- and smirked. He pushed his shoulders back as he stepped towards the cop, hiding his previous nerves under a cocky facade.  

     Officer Novak studied him carefully, and despite the erratic beat pounding in his chest, Dean simply smiled. 

     Officer Novak's eyes were just as piercing as Castiel's had been in the diner, but now they held a hard edge to them that was only sharpened by the shadows cast by the streetlights. 

     The man's whole face was sharp, really. Dean noted sharp, defined cheekbones and lined eyes, and it works for him, it does. 

     Dean shifted closer, taking a few more slow steps toward the man. He tilted his chin upward in a silent challenge, smirking underneath his mask. He raised an eyebrow at Officer Novak, enjoying the way his eyes glinted in an answering challenge. 

     "Officer Novak," Dean rumbled, pitching his voice low and letting a little rasp sink into it. 

     Instead of answering, Officer Novak stood still, and Dean swore he could see the other man's jaw drop- fractionally.

     Dean chuckled, raking his gaze over the officer.

     Sure, it was a little forward, but, hey. Dean was feeling confident. Even better, he heard Officer Novak- the unflappable Officer Novak- begin to sputter.