Title: Let Me Give You My Life

Rated: M (for later chapters)

Summary: AU. Dean's job in the mailroom of Novak & Sons is boring, but he has to put Sam through college somehow. The boredom is short-lived, though, when he's given an envelope marked "Hand Deliver" to take to his mysterious (and incredibly hot) boss. Companion piece to Take Me to Church.

A/N: Hello my beautiful readers! As some of you know, I wrote a fic called Take Me to Church which did pretty well for itself. It was 100% Castiel-sided though, and I've received a few questions about Dean's side in the whole thing. SO I wrote a series of snapshots from Dean's perspective!

Make sure you read Take Me to Church first! Since this does not cover every scene from TMTC, there will be little holes that might confuse you a little if you read it as a standalone. I will appreciate you soooo much if you click on over to that one first.

That being said, I hope you all enjoy some of the things running through Dean's head. Enjoy!

Chapter One

It all started when Dean gave in to his mild OCD and straightened a crooked picture frame in the office hallway.

It could have been a GQ cover as far as Dean was concerned. The man gazing out from the photo paper was just stunning, all smoldering blue eyes and sex hair. Dean hadn't realized he'd been staring so long until a voice spoke up behind him.

"There a reason you're ogling our CEO?"

Dean jumped so hard he crashed back into his mail cart. "What? No, I—"

"Calm down, kid, you look like you're having an aneurism." The man was short with long, dirty blonde hair, holding a half-eaten kit kat.

"Mr. Novak," Dean remembered from his interview. "You're head of HR, right?"

Gabriel Novak smiled. "Good to see you, Dean-o. Next time, close your mouth when you eye fuck my brother's picture."

Dean flushed bright red as Gabe walked away. He wasn't being that obvious, was he? He shook his head, glancing at the picture one last time before pushing his mail cart down the hallway.

o o o

"Dean-o!" the increasingly familiar voice was calling his name again.

Dean turned and walked back to the door he'd just passed. "What's up, Mr. Novak?"

"I need a favor." His smile was innocent, but his eyes were mischievous. "I need you to hand deliver this to my brother." Dean's eyes went wide as Gabe held out a little envelope. "That won't be too hard a task, would it?"

"No, of course not," Dean's voice rose. Yeah, it would be fine. He would just have to focus on keeping a raging boner down while standing face-to-face with the hottest man he'd ever seen. It would only be for a second though.

He set the envelope at the very bottom of the mail cart and carried on with his work.

Almost an hour later, the elevator doors closed and Dean finally had a second to breathe. He was almost done for the day, only a few pieces left. He usually didn't cover the upper floors, but, well, he had to this time.

In the solitary of the elevator, the Winchester gave into temptation and plucked the special envelope from the stack. The words Please hand-deliver to Castiel Novak were printed over the front in red ink. It was light, maybe one or two sheets of paper inside, and Dean had to set the letter back down to prevent himself from holding it up to the light to see what was inside.

Ding. Dean straightened up and pushed the little cart out onto the top floor. Two manilla envelopes for the Design Director, one small package for the Advertising Director, and one letter for the CEO and president of Garrison Publishing, Castiel Novak.

"Um, hi," Dean said to the bored-looking secretary. "I was told to hand deliver this to Mr. Novak?"

The woman eyed him for a minute before turning back to her screen. "You can just wait for him in there."

Dean let out a breath. So he wasn't here yet. That gave him more time to prepare. The cart was left outside and Dean wandered into—holy shit.

The CEO's office was huge, with bookshelves lining two walls, the third a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the city. In the corner there were two overstuffed armchairs and a little coffee table with three empty cups on it.

"Whoa," Dean breathed, stepping up to one of the bookshelves. There had to be several hundred books in these cases. Some looked brand new, some looked ancient. He was about to reach for a copy of The Old Man and the Sea when a little noise came from behind him.

He turned and his mouth fell open. There he was, Mr. GQ magazine cover, the CEO, Castiel Novak. The picture didn't do him justice, especially his eyes. Even from a distance, they bore into Dean's soul. "Shit," he murmured.

Castiel's eyebrows rose, and too late Dean realized that he'd just made a horrible first impression. Fix it you moron! "Uh, I mean sorry, sorry Mr. Novak, I wasn't-" Stop rambling and show some dignity god dammit.

Dean stood up straighter. What's done was done.

Castiel walked towards him slowly, his blue eyes still pinning Dean to the ground. For a second, Dean feared Castiel might yell at him. He shouldn't even be calling the guy Castiel in his head.

"I just came to deliver mail," he said quietly.

Castiel tilted his head. "That is the duty of my secretary," he said. God, his voice was so deep and gravelly. If he wasn't so nervous, Dean would have popped a boner right there.

The Winchester swallowed thickly. "It says 'Important: Hand Deliver' on it." He held out the letter, and to his relief, Castiel took it. The Novak walked back to his desk and sat.

What did Dean do? Leave? What if he needed to deliver something back to Gabe? He decided to stand awkwardly in front of Castiel's desk until he said something.

He could take this time to look at him, because Castiel was absorbed in the letter. He may be hot as hell, but with his face pinched in exasperation, Dean could only describe him as adorable.

The features smoothed out, and Dean wondered what the letter said. Was it something about company secrets? Family drama? Lunch plans? Before he had any more time to think, Castiel was folding the paper and tucking it back into the envelope.

He stared at Dean for a moment. Those deep blue eyes seemed to pin him down like a butterfly in a frame. Castiel was definitely not a normal dude, but there was something about him that fascinated Dean, other than his smoking hot exterior. Dean shifted his weight

"You don't need to deliver a reply," he said solemnly.

Dean felt himself color. He must have looked like an idiot just standing there. "Okay," he took a step back. "I'll just go then."

He moved to the door, trying not to look like he was running away, when Castiel said his name. "Dean." That was it. His name in that voice would be something he planned on replaying that night. How did Castiel even know his name?

Dean turned, keeping his mouth shut. "Thank you."

For some reason, a little embarrassed smile crossed his face. "Yeah, sure," he murmured. Then he ran out the door before he could do or say something really stupid.