PC: Hospitality to Strangers [Castiel x Reader]

It was the hottest day of the summer so far, and what you wouldn't give to be somewhere else—anywhere else. Hell, the surface of the moon would be a better bet than sitting behind the counter of a middle-of-nowhere gas station. But that was the story of your life, wasn't it? A recent college graduate, armed with a degree in your dream field and boundless optimism and good ideas, should have been able to take on the world.

Instead, you were living in your childhood hometown, working a minimum wage job for a boss who you envisioned beating over the head with a cheap frozen burrito more days than not. Honestly, you weren’t even supposed to be working today, but you'd been called in because your coworker flaked on their shift, which did little to improve your mood—and that was before you addressed the fact that there was no one on the roads today because of the blistering heat.

You idly turned the page of a well-thumbed manga when the sound of car doors outside caught your ear. You looked up to see three men approaching the front door. You stashed the magazine under the counter as the door opened, the bell above it jingling as if to announce the arrival of the customers. Up close (relatively speaking), they were all rather tall. The first two had enough resemblance between them to possibly be related (brothers?), and looked as though they would be quite home at a hunting goods store—nothing wrong with that, of course, but the layered shirts and Carhartt jackets couldn't have been comfortable. The man trailing behind them looked decidedly out of place next to his companions—the pressed button down and trousers, blue necktie and trench coast was "tax accountant" more than "Cabelas."

Initial impressions aside, you put on your best customer service smile and offered them your typical greeting. "Hi! If you guys need anything, let me know."

All three looked over at you at the sound of your voice. The first two thanked you with a nod before going back to browsing the tiny aisles and coolers. Meanwhile, the third approached the counter. "Fifty-one forty-five on Pump Three, please," he said. His voice was much deeper than you thought it would be.

"Cas!" Both you and the third (Cas was quite the name, you mentally noted) looked over at the latter's travelling companion, the one with shorter hair and the green jacket. "Wait until we get lunch first, okay?"

The other one (longer hair, gray Carhartt) offered you a smile. "We're all together, Miss," he added, waving his hand to indicate all of them.

"Sure thing," you replied, taking a moment to punch in the price of the fill-up. Out of habit, you looked out at the pump indicated; parked next to Three was a sleek black Chevrolet, obviously well cared for. "You boys road tripping?"  

"We have a job in the next town over," Cas replied, scanning the display of lottery tickets. After a moment, he looked at you, and you noticed how very blue his eyes were. "…How are you today?" When he asked, it was as though some unseen force was prompting him to make pleasantries.  

"Doing okay," you replied, shrugging one shoulder. Hey, pleasantries were pleasantries, weird tone or no. "Can't complain—and even if I did, no one would listen."

"I'll listen," he answered immediately.

Of all the people you'd ever used that line, he was the first to respond like that. "You're serious?" you asked.  

"What are your complaints?" As he spoke, Cas folded his hands on the counter, his expression intensely thoughtful.

You bit the inside of your cheek, debating telling him the dirty details, before leaning against the counter and beckoning him closer. When he leaned forward, it was as though he was expecting to be told the secrets of the universe. "Lousy pay," you began, voice low, "bad hours—I wasn't even supposed to be here today—boring as hell, and—"

A third voice cut in from the office behind you. "[last name]!"

"Excuse me a moment—my boss." You turned away from Cas to answer, "Yes, sir?"  

As was his practice, when he spoke, he didn't bother pushing away from his desk to look at you, and the order was barked more than it was simply said. "When you're done out there, go clean the cooler doors."

"Sure," you agreed coolly before turning back to Cas. "And my boss has the people skills of a wet sponge."

At this, Cas stood up straight once more. "His 'people skills' are 'rusty?'" he asked, hands lifting to do finger quotes around people skills and rusty.  

"'Rusty,'" you echoed with a laugh, mimicking his finger quotes as Cas' companions deposited a conglomeration of cheap gas station food and drinks on the counter. "Yeah, let's go with that." You rang up the new purchases and bagged them with practiced efficiency before passing them across the counter to the other two. "Your total is $68.78."

The pair thanked you before heading back to the Chevy, leaving Cas to pay—he was pulling out a small wedge of bills as he promised one of the others, named Dean, that he would be along shortly. Cas paused in flipping through the bills to squint at the plastic nametag affixed to your shirt. "[first name]?" he read.  

"That's me," you announced, offering him a loose mock salute.

"Things will improve for you, [first name]," he said simply, holding two fifties out to you.

Things will improve for you. You could feel a little ember of optimism starting to glow in your chest. "Thanks for the optimism," you said sincerely, accepting the bills and ringing them through. "Okay, $31.22 is your change—" You laid the bills and coins in his hand. "Have a nice afternoon."

Cas looked down at the money in his hand as though he wasn't quite certain why he'd gotten it before tipping the coins and ten-dollar bill in the plastic "Tips Thank You!" jar. "Have a good day."

This sounded more like a command than a greeting, but maybe that was how he was. You'd met weirder people working here. You started to reply, but realized that in that seemingly brief moment, he'd already gone. As you settled back in for the rest of your long afternoon, you considered the way he'd not come in, but the way he'd gone. So far as you could gather, only two things in the world could seemingly disappear at the drop of a hat: ghosts and angels. Personality quirks aside, you found yourself really hoping Cas was a little bit of, if not on the side of, the latter.