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The barista's back is turned - probably cleaning the machines, Dean thinks - and he slouches against the lacquered wood, clearing his throat. He bites back a chuckle when the barista jumps, spinning on his heel, and Dean finds himself looking up into what he thinks are the bluest eyes he's ever seen and god help him, he's drowning in the vast fucking ocean of them.
[An AU in which Castiel is a barista at a little coffee house that Dean finds quite by accident one day.]