When the wind died down the guy looked up, and Dean could have sworn his breath caught for a moment. God, those eyes. He loved those eyes. Gray was often such a bland color, but not this time. Not in these eyes. They were intense, watchful... they studied. He had to be a teacher, or a lawyer. One of those. They were just too evaluating. Like they were... searching. Taking Dean apart. He hoped the guy liked what he saw.

Carose cleared his throat, and Dean huffed an exasperated noise through his nose. "Whaaaat?" He whined, giving a pout to the man. "I'm busy!"

"I can see that. And if you don't get done being busy, you'll drool all over the table. And some poor waitress or waiter will have to clean that mess up."

Dean waved a hand, looking back at the guy. What was his name? Storme? Oh, that sounded good. So intense, so unpredictable. He wanted to go over there, but Carose was pinning him with his faded bluish-green eyes. "Here." He passed over a piece of folded paper. "The number to the editor of this particular magazine. If you have questions it'll do well for you to call up."

"Naah, I got it." Dean slid the paper into his jeans and looked back up, fiddling with the coffee cup in front of him and raising it when Carose slid the folder out from under it and put it back in his bag. "Are we done?"

"Almost. We still have a few things to discuss. You'll be sent directions, information, but there's still a few things to clear up." Dean sighed, watching the intense gray-eyed man, but nodding when Carose asked if he were listening.

Suddenly Dean wasn't listening anymore. His one-track mind was on that stormy-eyed guy fully and entirely, mouth wrapped around the soft bread, strong jaw working while he bit down, pulled back. God, how could something like that be so damn hot? Dean didn't realize his mouth was slightly open, his teeth working the tip of his tongue somewhat painfully, until Carose flapped a paper in front of his face and he startled with a gasp. "Huh!?"

"Shit, Dean, you really aren't paying attention, are you?" He looked exasperated, Carose, but there was a glint of something else there. Something playful? For once. "Better trade me places so you aren't distract---"

"No!" Dean shook his head hard. "No, I'mma stay right here. What were you saying?"

"About the time..." Carose passed another paper over. "Gotta be there at eight sharp. You're a morning person, aren't you?"

"Pffh, hell no." Dean smiled a little, looking back at the guy and tilting his head at him with a smile. "But I'll act like it."

"Good... So, I'll head off..." Carose shook his head, gathering his bag and stood, stretching and blocking Storm-Eye from Dean's view, who leaned over and whined at him. "See you later, bud." He patted Dean, ruffling his hair and earning an annoyed yell. When Carose walked away, Dean ran his hand through his hair a little and huffed, turning his eyes on the guy again.

Oh God oh God oh God... He was coming this way. Out of annoyance, curiosity, interest, Dean didn't even care. He just wanted to hear that voice. And when he did he might as well have collapsed to the floor, boneless. But instead he trained his bright green eyes on the man and his smile came a little easier. "Why would I not stare at you? Not much to dislike from where I'm sitting." And he'd have to stay sitting for a few minutes longer after the stranger's display of eating just a few minutes ago. He crossed one leg over the other.

"Teacher? Lawyer?" He asked, his curiosity too piqued to ignore any longer. "You look like a man that means business." And I love a man that means business... He didn't add that aloud, but the thought sent a thrill up Dean's spine. He just wanted to hear the guy speak again.

Dean couldn't help the curl to his lips. It was an unconscious thing, a smile born of the pink flush that came across the man's schooled features. "Oh, you don't think so. But with certain people there's always something to see." He closed his eyes, opening them again in a deep breath. "It was your eyes first. Then..." He shivered and shook his head. "Oh. Wow. Anyway, I thought you were a lawyer. Or some other... intense type. I love that. Grounded. Serious. All wrapped up to anyone else." He hushed himself, twisting his hair absently between thumb and finger, watching the man's eyes, his expression, changing slightly, maybe without his noticing. His stormy eyes. They glinted in the light. Not steely. More smoky. Like clouds, but they didn't obscure.

"Dean." He said simply. "That's my name." He let his eyes roam the clothes. The hair. Chestnut. Nice tone. Uneven, but intentionally so. It made him look... more edgy, but in a professional way.

He could feel the smile now. It was a little quiet now. Gentler. His face was calmer, eyes softer. Dean sat up a little, shifting so he was facing the man more pointedly. "Hm... Don't understand me?" He tilted his head a bit. "You're a lawyer. You ought to be able to understand people easily." He grinned widely, showing his teeth. Kane. Kane was a good name. A unique name. He liked that. A good name for a good pair of eyes. Mysterious eyes. Kane the lawyer, maybe he lived a double life. Maybe he didn't want to open up to people. Maybe he was a loner type, hard to open up. Maybe he was somewhat detached. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Dean mentally rolled his eyes, but kept his actual eyes on Kane. He roved over the plains, contours, taking in the eyebrow arch, the way the nose sat in such a precise manner. He knew what to look for, he'd been around enough people detailing the perfect model's form, face, features that didn't require a ton of Photoshop.

Dean pursed his lips outward slightly. He'd thought so, but getting the man to talk to him had been a tiny victory, and he'd take that if he couldn't get anything else. "Hmm..." He leaned forward a bit, hands clasped over one another gently, calmly, his eyes assessing. "Ever think?" He asked, tilting his head a little. "Think... about it? Ever tried something different? That's what life's about. I did, didn't much like the other team." He snickered at the words, leaning sideways and shaking his head. "Experimentation is nice... If you're up for it. All the time in the world. An hour from now... A decade from now... Personally I'd rather try while I were young." He bit his tongue as if he expected something to be there to stop his teeth, then let it go. "Something up?" He spied the darkening in Kane's eyes, seeing something there.

Dean widened his eyes, backing up a little. He closed his eyes, backing out of the sting that his pride and hope had wanted to feel. No, he wouldn't feel that. He expected that, though his gaydar was going off and wouldn't shut up. And it was never wrong. Not so far, anyway. "I'm not exactly... y'know, a serious guy, but c'mon, you oughta gimme a break. I'm not taking it as a game, Kane, I'm just really open with the whole thing. Not a lot of people are, I guess it's a bit of a shock when someone as open as me shows interest in a wrapped-up-tight kind like a doctor or lawyer, or teacher type. I'm like this with my friends, but they know it's just me being me. But they don't know when I'm serious. Not a lot of people do. They don't get that far because I learn about them." He shrugged. "And when I learn about them, they pull away. They just want one thing but I'm not that easy. Hell... you don't know that. I just wanted to talk to you for now." He leaned back, taking stock of the man. He'd looked immediately sympathetic when he acted out, at least.

An uncharacteristic shadow passed through Dean's eyes. He leaned forward, halfway across the small table. "And who says I'm not lonely?" he asked. He steeled himself, breathing in then out, and laced his fingers in front of him. "So I have some friends. And some good ones, too. Real characters. And I like playing with them. Having stupid, pointless conversations, yeah." He looked up and bored his green gaze into those gray ones. Those shaded gray ones, beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful. "But who says I don't go home, alone, and mope around, or cry because I can't get any form of luck in the dating game? Hell, who says I don't want something permanent? I'm twenty six, I look twenty, I have a ton of admirers for just looking good in front of a camera lens. But no one really wants to get to know me. And that's pretty damn sad. Makes me feel like a shell, something to fill for a while, but if that true me worms in, they're gone. Don't want commitment, just something that looks good for a while. So far they're all the same. But you don't seem that way."

He sat back, tilting his head, letting his hair fall over his face. "Maybe I judged you wrong?"

Dean managed a real smile. "Intuition." He said, tapping the side of his head and smiling. "I know when I see it. I also know what I like when I see it, even if it's just a one-night thing. Don't like those much anymore." He grimaced, looking out across the street. A cab was sitting at the curb. "What do I want... Huh, good question, Kane... Hmm, I like that name... Kane... Kane..." He drew it out gently, letting the name roll over his tongue softly, drip off his lip. "Hmm... What do I want... Just someone to talk to. Hell, a friend, even. I have a few, but who says no to another friend? Someone to spend time with, talk to, screw around and waste the day doing nothing productive... I don't really need a reason for wanting to hang around, do I? Other than I find you... enormously interesting?" If anyone could hold his attention, it was this guy. And not just because of his looks, or his wonderfully smooth, heavy voice. And he had that look. That wouldn't-it-suck-if-you-didn't-get-to-know-me look.

Dean grinned stupidly, clasping his hands together. "Sounds wonderful! How about a walk? The park by the beach is definitely calling our name." he jumped up, sliding the chair under the table and offering a hand to Kane. "Need a hand, hon?" He caught himself, grimacing slightly. "Sorry, over-familiar term of endearment, I use it on everyone." And Kane would probably think it odd. Andy didn't, of course, he just smiled and ruffled his hair or nudged him. Cory grimaced. Allie laughed. Chrissie blushed. But he didn't know Kane enough to gauge his reaction to the simple term hon or sweetie or baby. He probably thought it very specific to serious partnerships but it wasn't Dean's thought. The feeling, not the word, was what was important to Dean. The weight of the words, not the words themselves. They were the shell that held the true meaning, the seriousness.

For a moment Dean was worried that he'd completely lost what little of Kane he'd gained in their short acquaintance. However, he smiled warmly when the man stood and didn't bolt with his briefcase. As they walked, Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Swim!?" He waved off the notion as if it were ridiculous. "No, not today! You have no idea what salt water does to my hair." In saying, he reached up and slid his fingers through it, letting it lie gently over his head and against his neck, where it curled up gently. "Maybe later, though?" He grinned, getting onto the sidewalk. They started walking, toward the park near the beach with the heavy shade trees and the sand-grass mix.

Glancing around, he could see the glint of a camera lens and looked away as if he hadn't noticed. Paparazzi. They liked to catch him when he least expected it, and he had to commend that they stayed relatively nonchalant about everything. He smiled at Kane. "So how's a busy lawyer like you get a whole day off, anyway?" He asked with a smile, watching Kane and walking close---but not uncomfortably close---to him.

Dean made a spectacle of gaping at the man. "Whaaaat!? You gotta learn! You can't live by the ocean and not know how to swim, that's like... crazy!" He flipped a hand through the air as if waving the notion away. He was a strong swimmer, he had the body to be professional, but it wasn't his favorite thing. Dean was, by nature, a bit of a camera hog, so he'd always hoped to be in a profession where cameras were always trained on him.

He walked rather loosely, arms swinging, bouncing with each step. Kane walked in closed off manner, steady and watchful of where his feet fell, even if he didn't seem to notice. "Gotta be the stereotypical workaholic lawyer guy, huh?" He laughed, pointedly looking at a nondescript camera pointed his way and giving a smile before looking back at Kane. "Got a rough case? I'll be a catchall for you, man, I don't mind. What am I gonna do with it, I'm a model." he snorted, hoping he could hear Kane's concerns. What drew him in on his day off? Dean was so curious.

When his feet hit the sand Dean shucked his shirt, unbuttoning the bright red fabric and sliding it off, tying the arms around his waist and stretching toward the sky. "Oh, nice." He smiled. "Kids need someone to look after them I think. Need more of you guys around, there's like a shortage. He flopped onto the sand, kicking his shoes off and lying back, stretching like a cat in the sand and wriggling a little at the nice, somewhat rough sensation warming his back. "Yep, I'm a model. Works out when you got a high metabolism and good face I guess." He laughed, gesturing to the sand by where Kane had set his things in hopes he would sit nearby. "And I like to be in the picture. Probably nothing you'd ever look at though, I bet." He laughed, sitting up and shaking his hair free of sand.