Fic: Building Steam -- Coffee
Title: Building Steam
Author: Aithilin
Rating: G - PG?
Genre: Steampunk AU, pre-slash
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: None
Warnings: non-graphic violence, utter AU
Word Count: approx. 478
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or series, and I am not making money from this.
Summary: Dean, captain of the Airship Impala, captures Castiel of the Angels.
Author’s Notes: One-off snippet from a larger piece. Title taken from the Abney Park song of the same name.
-----
"You didn't just do that."
"What?"
"You claimed the coffee as your loot?"
"So?"
"Dean, you're the captain. Shouldn't you be going for the random shiny things that you can sell or hoard?"
"Dude, have you tried going three weeks without coffee?"
"…No."
"Have you tried pirating without coffee?"
"Dean--"
"Seriously, Cas, people will kill each other for this right now. It's better than gold. The crew is going to be sucking up to me for days trying to get some."
"…You're kidding."
"I'm not. These guys go into fights half-drunk all the time. But offer them something to wake up and they'll go nuts for it. Be your slaves for as long as you have it to share."
"Seriously?"
"Why is it so hard to believe?"
"No one drank coffee in the Garrisons. It was considered too addictive."
"…Dude, that's horrible."
There's a small silence between them, the steady drip of fresh coffee being the most recognizable sound as they wait for the drink to be ready. Outside the cabin, there would be bartering and trading, massive drinking of the old stores of water and alcohol before the crew could justify breaking open the new stuff. There would be laughing and a party, unwinding from the adrenaline of the looting.
Inside the cabin it was quieter. The fresh coffee being the only smell strong enough to overpower the grease of the engines and the musty smell of a closed area that needed to be cleaned and aired out. It was a rich coffee, thick and black, and the promise of warmth after fighting and flying out in the cold air of the sky.
Dean never shared this particular loot. Not with the crew, at least. And never the first cup. Sure, he did when Sammy survived his first deck-side fight, but that was it. He didn't share. He couldn't afford to. It was a sacred ritual that no one on the crew questioned or paid any attention to anymore. The only people who ever mentioned the quirk were the one night stands who didn't find themselves on the crew later.
To Dean, sharing that first brew-- the first successful and celebratory mug of coffee-- was offering a sort of equality that scared him.
Brewed and seasoned to his liking (Dean wasn't very discerning when it came to drinks, anymore), Dean took a sip then offered the dented tin mug to Cas.
"Want one, Cas?"
There was a moment of hesitation before Cas accepted the drink and sipped it while Dean poured another. He settled on the edge of the bed to watch the clouds pass around them (too light and fluffy to be any threat to the Impala). He felt the dip as the captain's weight joined him.
"What do you think? See why I claimed it?"
"It's good."
Cas could get used to fresh coffee.
Author: Aithilin
Rating: G - PG?
Genre: Steampunk AU, pre-slash
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: None
Warnings: non-graphic violence, utter AU
Word Count: approx. 478
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or series, and I am not making money from this.
Summary: Dean, captain of the Airship Impala, captures Castiel of the Angels.
Author’s Notes: One-off snippet from a larger piece. Title taken from the Abney Park song of the same name.
-----
"You didn't just do that."
"What?"
"You claimed the coffee as your loot?"
"So?"
"Dean, you're the captain. Shouldn't you be going for the random shiny things that you can sell or hoard?"
"Dude, have you tried going three weeks without coffee?"
"…No."
"Have you tried pirating without coffee?"
"Dean--"
"Seriously, Cas, people will kill each other for this right now. It's better than gold. The crew is going to be sucking up to me for days trying to get some."
"…You're kidding."
"I'm not. These guys go into fights half-drunk all the time. But offer them something to wake up and they'll go nuts for it. Be your slaves for as long as you have it to share."
"Seriously?"
"Why is it so hard to believe?"
"No one drank coffee in the Garrisons. It was considered too addictive."
"…Dude, that's horrible."
There's a small silence between them, the steady drip of fresh coffee being the most recognizable sound as they wait for the drink to be ready. Outside the cabin, there would be bartering and trading, massive drinking of the old stores of water and alcohol before the crew could justify breaking open the new stuff. There would be laughing and a party, unwinding from the adrenaline of the looting.
Inside the cabin it was quieter. The fresh coffee being the only smell strong enough to overpower the grease of the engines and the musty smell of a closed area that needed to be cleaned and aired out. It was a rich coffee, thick and black, and the promise of warmth after fighting and flying out in the cold air of the sky.
Dean never shared this particular loot. Not with the crew, at least. And never the first cup. Sure, he did when Sammy survived his first deck-side fight, but that was it. He didn't share. He couldn't afford to. It was a sacred ritual that no one on the crew questioned or paid any attention to anymore. The only people who ever mentioned the quirk were the one night stands who didn't find themselves on the crew later.
To Dean, sharing that first brew-- the first successful and celebratory mug of coffee-- was offering a sort of equality that scared him.
Brewed and seasoned to his liking (Dean wasn't very discerning when it came to drinks, anymore), Dean took a sip then offered the dented tin mug to Cas.
"Want one, Cas?"
There was a moment of hesitation before Cas accepted the drink and sipped it while Dean poured another. He settled on the edge of the bed to watch the clouds pass around them (too light and fluffy to be any threat to the Impala). He felt the dip as the captain's weight joined him.
"What do you think? See why I claimed it?"
"It's good."
Cas could get used to fresh coffee.