Chapter Text
Charlie noticed her best friend had missed a couple of meetups with their group, so she went to find him. It wasn’t like Dean to skip out. She’d been worried—he looked thinner lately, was always running his fingers through his hair, like something heavy was on his mind. So, she texted him, grabbed a pizza, a six-pack of Coke, and a bag of chips, and knocked on his door.
Dean opened it with a tired smile.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” Dean took the pizza and Coke from her hands.
“I mean it. You need sleep… and a decent meal.”
Dean fetched paper plates, napkins, and tumblers, and they sat down to eat. Charlie watched slice after slice vanish, glad she’d ordered one pizza for each of them.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she said.
Dean had met Charlie on his first day of college, and they’d clicked instantly. Even with other friends, they always made time for each other. He knew he couldn’t keep the truth from her any longer.
“When I left for school, my parents told me not to come back. Said no omega should be in college.” Charlie’s expression twisted in disbelief. “They think bond mates should only be a man and a woman. I don’t see it that way.”
“What if your bond mate’s the same sex?” Charlie asked, sickened.
“They’d ignore it and live miserably. So, I left with a partial scholarship. I’ve got a job, but it’s still hard to cover all my expenses, including books. I thought about picking up a second job, but I already feel like I’m drowning, Charlie. I can’t go back to Kansas—they don’t want me.”
Charlie rubbed his shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to. I might have a solution. I never told you, but about six months ago, I found an Omega Café. That’s where I met Dorothy. They’ve got contracts and safety measures. Dean, I should’ve mentioned it sooner. Pam, the manager, might have a job open. They pay better, and you could study there between shifts—and maybe meet Alphas.”
“So, Dorothy pays for your schooling?”
“Yes, and more than that.”
“What kind of contracts?”
“Well, they can be long-term or short-term,” Charlie explained. “Some are for a prelude to mating. You can add whatever you want into your contract—non-sexual, friendship, whatever works for you and your Alpha. The important part is that it protects your rights. The Novaks take care of the Omegas in their care, Dean.”
“How do I even get started with this?” Dean asked, perking up a little.
“You sign up for the waiting list. They’ll give you a form to fill out, and then Pam will bring you in for an interview. If you’re accepted, they’ll start matching you with Alphas in the area. Most of the time, the Alphas come into the café to meet people. There are group outings, fun activities, parties… stuff like that.”
Dean reached over to grab his laptop from the bed. “No time like the present.”
Charlie sat beside him, helping him work through the online form.
“I don’t have a next of kin,” Dean said, frowning at the screen. “No head Alpha. What do I even put?”
“Leave it blank for now and talk to Pam about it,” Charlie said. “I didn’t have anyone else to list either.”
Dean filled in every detail, making sure he was truthful and precise. When he finally hit submit, he leaned back and hoped he’d hear something soon.
“They’ll get back to you before you know it,” Charlie said. “In the meantime, you’re coming to eat with me and Dorothy—no arguments. Look at you, holed up in here. You need your friends around you. Don’t hide away again. Call me, that’s what I’m here for—ice cream and tears, laughter and adventure.”
“Okay… yeah, I will. I feel so defeated sometimes. I don’t want to let them win.”
“You won’t,” Charlie said firmly. “You’re going to be the best teacher—or whatever else you decide to be.”
“Thanks.”
Charlie caught him up on all the gossip he’d missed, and for the first time in weeks, Dean felt himself relax.
-0-
For three weeks, Charlie, Dorothy, and their friends had been making sure Dean ate, checking in on him, and keeping his spirits up. Charlie had warned him the Omega Café process could take six to eight weeks, so he was surprised when an email from Pam landed in his inbox after three, inviting him in for an interview.
Charlie was thrilled for him, and Dean made sure he looked presentable in his best jeans, a plain black T-shirt, and a green button-down shirt. He arrived just before ten, his first time stepping into an Omega Café.
They were members-only establishments, scattered across the country. Some were independently owned, but many—Charlie had told him—belonged to the same family. The Novaks held several across North America and beyond, including two Omega Cafés and one Beta café in California.
The building’s façade was charming—painted a soft sky blue, with hanging baskets spilling bright blooms. A wide front window looked out over the sidewalk, a short walk from Stanford’s campus. The property consisted of two connected buildings—one side for administrative work, the other housing the café and seating areas.
Inside, the open-plan café had a warm yet modern vibe: a small stage off to one side, exposed red brick walls, and sleek black industrial pillars that broke up the space.
Dean stepped up to the counter. “Hi, I’m meeting with Ms Barns.”
“Oh, this way, let me take you. My name’s Tess, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Tess.”
Tess guided Dean through a set of double doors and down a corridor before stopping at one of the offices. She gave the door a quick knock.
“Come in.”
Tess poked her head inside. “Someone here to see you, boss.”
“Let him in, Tess. Thanks.”
“Good luck,” Tess whispered to Dean with a quick smile before leaving him.
Dean stepped inside, and Pam rose from behind her desk to shake his hand.
“Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you.”
Pam’s keen brown eyes fixed on him—she could smell a lie a mile off, and Dean knew better than to try bullshitting her. He didn't want to start on the wrong foot with this woman anyway.
“Dean, welcome to the head offices of the California region. This was the first building the Novak brothers established, so they’ve retained it. I’ve been working with them since the day they opened the place, and they’ve gone from strength to strength. So—tell me, why did you apply?”
“Charlie—my friend. I was in a bind. My parents have… well, abandoned me, for lack of a better word. I’ve been struggling financially. They never wanted an Omega in the family, let alone an Omega son. When they found out I wanted to go to college—and that I liked men—it blew their little minds. Sadly.”
“That’s why you put no next of kin and no head of Alpha on your form?”
Dean nodded.
“Circumstances like yours, sadly, aren’t rare. But if you’re ever in need of a head Alpha—like at the hospital—you can quote us from now on. I hear you’re looking for a job?”
“I work at a garage downtown. The guy’s name is Al, and he’s… sleazy, to say the least.”
Pam’s eyes widened a fraction. “Yes, not the best place to be working. The man doesn’t have the best reputation. Here, you’ll have a meal with every shift. We pay fair wages, and you can earn extra money at events. You won’t have to work all of them, because we need you to mingle with clients. That’s the real reason you’re here.”
“We’ll give you a suit and shoe allowance. The Novak’s want everyone dressed up at the parties. You can come and go freely at the café—you’ll get a pass to get you in. At first, people might ask to see it, but once they know you, that’ll stop. With your pass, you can enter any Novak Omega Café in the world.”
“Can I come here to study during the day—and eat in the café?”
“Yes. Some clients come and go, and lunch and dinner are busy, as you can guess. But this is a safe space for you and all our Omegas, Dean. We’ll send you a list of events we’d like you to attend. You’ll need to be here at least once a month.”
“How much is all of this?” Dean asked.
“You’ll get a discount on food, but we don’t ask you to pay for anything else. The Alphas cover the tab. When you meet someone, we’ll sit down and draw up contracts—when you feel like you’ve found your match. The Novak’s have people who take care of both Alphas and Omegas throughout the entire contract.”
“What if the Alpha refuses a contract?”
Pam snorted. “Then he’s not the kind of Alpha you should want to tie yourself to. We make it clear to all Alphas that every Omega here requires one. I think you’ll fit in here, Dean. I already have your bank details, so we’ll deposit your suit allowance once the next event is scheduled. You can start on Monday at the café. If you have any more issues with Al, you come straight to me.”
“I finish class by two on Monday. I can be here by half past.”
“That’s great. I’ll put you down for the late shift. How do you usually get around?”
“Public transport or walking.” Dean shrugged.
“I’ll talk with my team. If it’s a late-night finish, you’ll get extra for an Uber—no arguments. I assume you’re in dorms?”
Dean blushed but didn’t argue. Walking home in the dark wasn’t always safe, even this close to campus, so the thought of an Uber allowance sounded nice. “Yes. Most of my friends are Omegas too, so there wasn’t much point in us moving. Landlords aren’t the best about renting to Omegas, even here in Cali.”
“It’s getting better, Dean—even compared to when I was younger. Now, I have a pack of papers you need to read. It includes the rules and your work contract. Please review it and sign if you agree with everything. Could you bring it back on Monday? This is your lanyard. For now, you’ve got temporary access, but once we’ve filed your information and added your picture to our system, it’ll be all green lights.”
Charlie had told him they ran thorough background checks, even for omegas, so Dean wasn’t surprised about the temporary access.
He stood and shook Pam’s hand again, saying goodbye with the pack tucked under his arm. It was thick, but he managed to hold it securely. Remembering the way out, he made his way through the café. A few more people had filtered in, and he gave Tess a quick wave behind the counter before stepping outside—hoping he’d be back soon.
-0-
Dean read through all the café materials—rules about conduct, dress code, and even how to handle meetups. He knew he had to make a trip to the house near Napa Valley, but without a car, getting there was a hassle. That was where his nicer clothes were stored. Unsure what to do, he brought it up with Charlie.
“Dorothy’s got a car, Dean, and I’ve never even seen this house before,” she said, tucking her short red hair behind her ear. “Why don’t we go next weekend? We could all use a break—us from school, Dorothy from work. You could grab whatever you need.”
Dean wasn’t rich, but the house his grandfather had left him sat in Napa Valley, standing empty. In the will, a small amount of money had been set aside for upkeep, enough for a cleaner to come in once a week. He couldn’t sell it, and he couldn’t rent it out—not until he had a mate. Then, and only then, would it pass into their shared name. His grandfather had been old-fashioned, and while Dean didn’t agree, there wasn’t much he could do to change the terms.
Before his grandfather passed, he’d bought Dean a ton of clothes and personal items. They all fit him, and some of the more valuable things—like jewellery—were locked away in the safe at the house. There were times Dean thought he might have to sell them, but with the café, he hoped he might meet an Alpha willing to support him through college—and maybe, just maybe, something more could come of it.
That was why he was so eager to show Charlie and Dorothy the house. It was spectacular, too big to sit empty like a dark shadow, and it needed people living inside it again.
Dean couldn’t wait for the weekend. In the meantime, though, Charlie, Garth, and Kevin backed him up when he finally told Al he was handing in his notice. The Alpha turned nasty, shouting that Dean couldn’t quit, that he’d never work in the area again.
Dean had been shaking so hard that Charlie called Pam. Pam’s calm voice came through the line, promising she’d handle it.
“Nasty man, Dean,” Kevin muttered.
“At least you start work on Monday. Plus, you and Charlie are heading to your house this weekend,” Garth said.
“Yeah, I know. But Al was just… so nasty. It shook me.”
To Dean’s amusement, both Garth and Kevin had signed up for the café now that all their friends were in it. Garth wanted to meet someone who wouldn’t jerk him around, while Kevin admitted it would be nice to have someone who truly understood what he needed.
By Friday, the air was warm—it was May, after all. The mingled scents of jasmine and roses drifted across campus, mixing with the constant hum of students. It reminded Dean of easier days, and he paused by the bench where the flowers grew to take it in. When Charlie arrived, bags in hand for the weekend, they walked together to Dorothy’s car in the parking lot.
Dorothy was an older Alpha with a sunny disposition. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a ponytail; she stood about five feet seven and ran her own IT business. Charlie adored her, and the way Dorothy looked at Charlie made it clear the feeling was mutual.
“Charlie, Dean—welcome,” Dorothy greeted warmly as they approached. “Busy day for you both?”
Charlie chatted about her classes, and then Dean spoke up. “It was child psychology—and abuse cases. I’m glad to be done with it for the week. Though I did sign up for a first aid course next week.”
“That’s good, Dean. It all helps,” Dorothy told him.
“Yeah. Still… It’s sad that anyone can hurt a child. I guess it’s work that needs doing, though. I’m just not sure where I want to be after school.”
“You’ve got time, Dean. You’re only nineteen,” Dorothy said gently.
The drive took nearly two hours. They stopped once for Charlie to use the restroom and grabbed food for the night before continuing. As they drew closer, Dean directed them, pointing out familiar turns until the house came into view.
It stood with a kind of rustic charm—wooden siding, panoramic views, and a wide wraparound veranda. The large windows caught the light as the sun lowered in the sky, and the house sat proudly on three acres of land in the hills. Inside, there were three bedrooms, a spacious dining room, an open-plan kitchen, and even a wine cellar. Out back, a stone patio curved around a wood-burning pit, the kind made for long evenings under the stars. The views were breathtaking, and Dorothy and Charlie stood in awe.
“Dean… this place is magical. Your grandfather left all this to you?”
“Yes. I can’t sell it or rent it. I keep my things here—clothes Grandpa bought me. I haven’t grown much, so they still fit. A few valuables are locked in the safe. I used to think I might have to sell them, but… if the café works out, maybe I’ll meet someone kind and not have to.”
They carried their bags inside. Dean gave Charlie and Dorothy the master bedroom, choosing the back room for himself—the one that had always been his. After a shower and a change of clothes, he started on dinner. Dorothy and Charlie joined in, chopping and setting the table while Dean grilled chicken and tossed a salad. Then he slipped down into the cellar and came back with a bottle of wine.
“Oh,” Dorothy said, eyebrows lifting. “That’s good stuff. Did you pick it up from a vineyard around here?”
“Grandpa did, yeah. There are some older and more expensive bottles down there. You’re welcome to look if you’d like.”
“I might. My dad collected, and I know a few brands,” the Alpha replied with interest.
“They can fetch a mint,” Charlie added.
“Yes, some of them can,” Dean agreed, though thinking about selling them made his stomach turn. He was already scraping by on almost nothing—he needed the Omega Café to work out.
After dinner, they walked the property together, admiring the hills and the quiet before deciding they’d have a cookout the next day. But as night fell and the bugs started biting, they headed back inside. Around ten, Dean excused himself, bone-tired, though he promised to make them breakfast in the morning.
Charlie and Dorothy lingered on the couch, watching the end of a late-night show. When the credits rolled, Charlie turned to the Alpha beside her.
“I don’t really get wines, but from the look on your face… There are some expensive bottles down there.”
Dorothy nodded. “Yes. A small fortune.”
Charlie leaned back against her, frowning. “Then I don’t get why he never sold them. I mean, I understand about the house, but he’s got things here he could cash in.”
Dorothy sighed softly, fingers slipping through her lover’s hair. “Charlie, love… from what you’ve told me, and from what Dean said tonight, I think it’s clear. Those bottles, those keepsakes—they’re the last pieces of his grandfather, the one person he knows for certain loved him. Selling them would feel like selling that memory.”
“He was starving, though. Running on fumes.”
“Even if he did sell the bottles and whatever’s locked in that safe, sure—he could pay for college. But he’d still be empty. Dean needs more than money. He needs companionship, someone steady, someone who’ll take care of him. I’m not saying you and your friends don’t help, but… it’s not the same. The café can give him a chance at that connection.”
Charlie’s face softened. “Yeah. I get it now. I just… I hope he finds someone who truly loves him. Someone who’ll take away all those burdens. Dean’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”
“Yes, he is,” Dorothy agreed. “And we’ll protect that kindness. Always. Now—bed. Come on.”
They clicked off the television and went upstairs together.
-0-
Dean was up at eight, humming softly as he cooked breakfast for the two women. Here, in this house that had always been his safe place, he felt more at ease. The kitchen smelled of coffee and frying bacon, sunlight spilling through the wide windows. For Dean, the old home was a comfort blanket—proof that he had once been loved and appreciated. He wished he came here more often.
The women padded in, drawn by the smell of food. Charlie moaned happily as she reached for a mug.
“Morning. That bed is like air—best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.”
Dorothy echoed her with a grin. “Yes, I haven’t slept that well in years.”
Dean smiled. “I’m glad. What do you want to do today?”
Charlie leaned against the counter. “We could visit a vineyard, or maybe the hot springs… oh, and the market?”
“Can we get on a tour so late?” Dorothy asked, doubt edging her voice.
Dean shrugged. “Yes—I have friends who might help. Let me ring them.”
While Charlie and Dorothy washed and dried dishes, Dean stepped into the study, pulling out an old number. He hadn’t spoken to his friend in a while, but after a quick call, they were all set. The vineyard would be expecting them at eleven.
“We can have lunch there; it’ll be nice,” Dean told them with a little smile.
They made a quick food run for dinner, then came back to change for the tour. Charlie and Dorothy were buzzing with excitement, while Dean found himself quietly glad at the thought of seeing familiar faces again.
The vineyard was sprawling—family-owned, tucked against a hillside where the rows of grapevines stretched neat and endless under the late spring sun. The air smelled faintly of earth and sweetness. The car crunched over gravel as they pulled in, and when they climbed out, the heat wrapped around them like a blanket.
Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and started toward the cluster of people gathering for the tour. A gruff voice called his name, stopping him in his tracks.
“About time you came to see us, boy.”
Dean spun around, a grin breaking over his face. “Uncle Bobby! Nice to see you. Where’s Uncle Rufus?”
“You’ll see him on the tour,” Bobby said, folding his arms across his chest. “But he’ll be having words with you, don’t doubt that.”
Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, figured as much. Uh—these are my friends Charlie and Dorothy. Guys, this is Bobby Singer, one of the owners. He was an old friend of my grandpa’s. I grew up running around here when I was younger.”
“Nice to meet ya,” Bobby said, giving Charlie and Dorothy a once-over softened by the twitch of a smile. “Hope you’re keeping this one out of trouble.”
Charlie grinned. “We try our best, Mr Singer.”
Bobby snorted, clearly unconvinced but not unkind. “Come on, then. We’d better get this tour started. March’s a slow month, so you picked a good time.”
There were about five other people in the group, and Bobby slipped easily into his role as guide. He started with the story of how the vineyard began, pointing out the long rows of vines, naming each variety as they passed. The air was sweet with the smell of grapes and sun-warmed earth, and Dean found himself relaxing, the tension in his shoulders easing.
When they reached the cool stone building where the wine was stored, a familiar voice cut through the air.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Before Dean could turn, an older man pulled him into a rough hug, clapping his back so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of him. Dean laughed, caught between surprise and relief.
“Uncle Rufus,” he said warmly.
“We’ve been worried about you, boy. Haven’t seen you in too damn long.”
Dean grinned. “Yeah, I think I’ve been running away from all this. But… I’m doing okay. Got good friends, keeping up with school.”
Rufus raised a brow. “Anyone special?”
Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. But you’ll be the first to know if there is.”
Rufus’s expression softened. “Dean, you run into trouble—you come to us. Always.”
“I know, Uncle Rufus.” And he did. Dean hoped he wouldn’t be too stubborn to ask if the café job didn’t work out. Maybe, if he were lucky, he’d find someone there—someone loving, like Dorothy was for Charlie. That was all he really wanted.
The tour wound on, and the girls had the time of their lives at the tasting table. Dean didn’t drink, but Charlie and Dorothy sampled everything they could, laughing and getting a little giggly as the pours added up. Dean couldn’t help but grin at them.
At the store, Bobby handed Charlie and Dorothy each a bottle of their 2020 white, telling them it had been a good year. They cradled the bottles like treasure, still giggling as they thanked him.
Dean promised to call Bobby and Rufus soon, swearing he’d visit again before too long.
As they drove back down the winding hill, Charlie leaned her head against the seat and sighed. “Dean, that place is magic. Two Alphas finding love—and it was even harder for them, with all the ideals stacked against them.”
Dean shook his head. “I’ll never understand it. What’s the colour of skin got to do with love? Or the fact you’ve got the same parts? None of that matters.” His voice grew softer. “Wish my parents could’ve seen that.”
“Some people only see one colour,” Charlie said sadly. “They don’t see the rainbows like we do.”
Dean smiled faintly. “Grandpa wasn’t like that. When I told him… he went and flew the pride flag right outside, to piss my parents off. He said what mattered most was finding your bond mate. Said real love was worth fighting for.”
Dorothy glanced at him in the rearview. “That’s a wise man.”
Charlie nudged Dean’s arm. “What about the nonhuman community? You ever think about that?”
Dean shrugged, thoughtful. “Honestly? Doesn’t bother me. Man, woman, black, blue, unicorn—you name it. If they’re my bondmate, if they take care of me, respect me? That’s all I can ask for.”
Dorothy grinned. “You old romantic.”
Dean ducked his head, smiling despite himself. “Guess I am at heart.”