Chapter Text
The store was pretty quiet by the time Cas arrived for his appointment, so Dean was already waiting for him, talking quietly to Claire. He tried to ignore how much his mood improved just at the sight of the other man, leaning against the wall while he said hello to Claire and they got the before appointment paperwork done. Not for the first time he wondered about the easy familiarity between Cas and Claire. They seemed to know each other from outside the ship, but neither of them had ever mentioned it, so maybe it was just coincidence.
"Did you have a good weekend?" Dean asked once everything was done, leading Cas back to his station—though he betted the other guy knew the way off by heart by now.
"No," Cas sighed, and Dean couldn't have told you who looked more surprised by the honest answer.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He normally hated it when clients talked about their personal issues. He was an artist, not a therapist, and hearing about their problems always made him want to provide answers he didn't have. It should have been the same with Cas. He couldn't help him.
But he wanted to.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
Castiel shrugged his shirt off, lying down on his front just as he had for all their other appointments. "Maybe? I was having some flashbacks." He sighed, his eyes looking troubled for a moment before he closed them.
He didn't say anything else, and Dean figured the conversation was probably over as he gently cleansed Cas' skin and loaded up the tattoo gun. The mention of flashbacks worried Dean. He'd known from the start that Cas couldn't have had a good past, but from the look of Cas,it was even worse than he could have ever thought. The room was silent for a while, except from the buzzing of the gun and the occasional pained noise from Cas'—color was always worse than linework—and then, so suddenly that Dean would have startled if he hadn't been used to this, he started to talk.
"I'm an angel," Cas said, a frown clear in his voice. He corrected himself after a moment, the pain in his words enough to take Dean's breath away and squeeze his heart. "I used to be an angel." It wasn't right, and Dean wanted to argue, but he also knew he needed to let Cas say what he needed to say.
"I had—the most beautiful wings," Cas choked out, "they were my pride and joy. They were what made me… me. But then—" he trailed off, his back shaking slightly with soundless sobs. Dean slowly turned the tattoo gun off. He couldn't work like this, and honestly, he didn't want to. Not when Cas' so clearly needed comfort.
"But then?" Dean promoted quietly, pressing a gloves hand to Cas' shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.
"There was a car crash," Cas said, and Dean didn't need any more details to understand what must have happened. The scars on his back, so precise and clean, almost surgical. Because they were.
He guessed that explained the tattoo itself as well.
"Cas," Dean whispered, unable to find the words for what else to say. He couldn't imagine what Cas must have gone through. Angel wings were—they were fucking important. They played a role in every aspect of an angel's life. Dean didn't know all the details, but he'd spoken to Claire enough—and oh, that's probably why they knew each other so well—to know that people who weren't family weren't even allowed to touch an angel's wings.
And Cas had lost his.
"I hate it," Cas admitted, "I hate myself. It's why I don't like my full name. Castiel," it was almost a sneer, all of Cas' hurt forced behind one single word. "That's an angel's name. I am no longer an angel."
Dean wasn't entirely sure where the anger came from, it was just suddenly there, red hot and biting as he stared down at the marvelous man in front of him.
Marvelous Cas, who for some reason couldn't see what Dean could.
"You're still an angel," Dean hissed, and he couldn't tell if his cheeks were flushed from anger, or from his words definitely sounding like he was flirting. "Would I still be an elf, even if my ears weren't pointy?"
"Well, yes, I guess—"
"Exactly," Dean cut him off. "Your species is you. Not just your appearance. You are an angel down to your soul, and wings or no wings are not going to change that."
"Angels don't have souls," Cas murmured.
"And do you have a soul?"
"No."
"That just proves my point then," Dean shrugged, "you're an angel on the inside, and that's not going to change."
"I guess you're right," Cas hummed. "Thank you, Dean. You're amazing."
Dean lowered his gaze, even though Cas wasn't actually looking at him, his face staining red, yet again. "Thanks."
"Are you ready to continue?" Dean asked after a moment of quiet, both of them basking in the mood they had created.
"Yeah," Cas nodded, relaxing into the chair while Dean changed his gloves and restarted the tattoo gun.
"Tell me something else about your life?" Dean asked carefully. "You've told me about the bad things, but what's something good in it?"
Cas opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but he chuckled and tried again. "I also have a dog," Cas said with a small shrug. "His name is Gabe, short for Gabriel. I've had him since I was small."
"Nice." Dean laughed mentally, carefully making sure to keep his hands steady even while he couldn't hold his smile back. What were the chances?
"Do you have any pets?"
Dean chuckled out loud this time. "No, I don't actually," he said, "I've been thinking about getting one though."
"I recommend it. Gabe is a little trickster, but he's always good company."
"I'll bear that in mind."
"Come on, Dean!" Jo whined, grinning up at Dean—she already knew she'd won.
"Why can't you take no for an answer," Dean sighed. He wasn't actually mad, he knew Jo just wanted the best for him. It didn't stop it from being annoying.
"Because you need to get out more, and I know for a fact you won't unless I force you to." She wasn't wrong, Dean hadn't been to a bar on his own—without anyone forcing him into it—for… months. Probably not since Lisa broke up with him actually. But that didn't mean that he wanted to go today.
"We've missed you," Jo tried, and that was it. The final blow.
"Fine, I promise I'll come," Dean sighed. "But I'm not drinking, okay. And if I try to, I need you to stop me." He hated asking his friends for help, but he'd been doing so good at not drinking as a coping mechanism, and he was worried about losing that.
"I will," Jo agreed. "And just so you know, I'm proud of you." She didn't say what for, she didn't need to.
"Thanks," Dean smiled. "I—thanks." He couldn't think of what else he could possibly say, and desperately hoped that Jo could understand the meaning he couldn't put into words.
"No problem," Jo replied, and Dean knew she had understood. They shared a smile, before both of them had to head back to work.
The bar was busy. Dean really hadn't been expecting anything else on a Wednesday night—apparently they weren't the only ones needing a little bit of help to finish hump day off—but it really wasn't nice. They'd managed to catch a table in one of the quieter corners, but even with that they couldn't fully avoid the noise, heat, and frustration of having so many people in one place. The music was turned up loud, but even then they could hear a few select conversations between particularly loud customers.
It should have been horrible but Benny, Garth, and Jo were good company, and Dean could admit he'd missed meeting up to shoot some shit with the others, so he was actually having the time of his life.
"Another round?" Benny offered, taking their wordless cheer as a response as he grabbed their empty pitchers and took them back to the bar.
Dean wasn't quite drunk yet, but he was tipsy enough to be leaning against Jo and actually listening to Garth as he talked about the sock puppet he'd made as a child and still had somewhere in his house. Dean had heard before that werewolves could be almost as bad with hoarding as dragons, and looking at Garth it really seemed like it was true.
"Hey, Dean," a painfully familiar voice muttered from just next to him. He hadn't heard anyone approach, so he jumped, first in surprise, and then the moment he got over that, he felt horror spread through his blood.
"Oh, hey Lisa," he said with a strained smile, twisting in his seat to look at his ex-girlfriend. He had no idea why she was here, it wasn't like she'd had any interest in talking to him ever since they'd broken up before now.
"So how're you doing?" Lisa asked, twirling a strand of hair around her finger in a way Dean remembered he used to think was adorable. He had no idea why, looking at it now.
"I'm doing okay." Dean replied non-committedly. "How about you?"
"Same old," Lisa waved his question off. "So, how has single life been treating you? Have you met anyone yet?"
A pair of breathtaking blue eyes popped into his mind unbidden, but he did his best to ignore it. He would think it all over later, not right now when Lisa was right there.
"No, I haven't actually," Dean murmured, "have you?" He didn't actually care—in the slightest—but it seemed like the polite way to continue the conversation which he really wanted to end already.
"No, and you know… I've been thinking about it," Lisa replied, shifting her weight in order to angle her chest towards him.
"You have?"
"Yes, and I think that actually, we're better together. I should have never broken up with you."
"But you did," Dean shrugged, feeling a lot calmer than he would have if this had happened just a few weeks ago. Meeting Cas had changed things… had changed him. He didn't need Lisa. He would even go as far as to say she was bad for him, and probably always had been.
"And I'm asking you to take me back." She said she was asking, but Dean recognised her tone now. She was telling, not asking. Dean couldn't stop himself from wondering about the time they were together. How often had he thought he was making decisions to make her happy when he was really just falling in her trap.
"I'm sorry, Lisa," he said quietly, "I've moved on."
"What!" she gasped, her eyes going wide. "You can't just—"
"I have, I'm sorry. I'm not interested in getting back together with you."
"You're making a mistake," Lisa hissed, stepping forward threateningly.
"He said no," Benny interrupted, placing their drinks on the table and smoothly slipping in between them. "It was lovely to see you, Lisa," his tone dropped with sarcasm, "but I think it's time for you to go."
"Dean," Lisa tried, but Dean just turned his attention to Jo—though there really wasn't anything for them to say right now—until Benny managed to convince Lisa that leaving was probably the best decision.
"Sorry guys," Dean said quietly.
"No, Dean," Garth said with a surprising amount of seriousness for the normally bright werewolf. "That wasn't your fault. You didn't ask her to come over and talk to you."
"No but she wouldn't have come over here if I hadn't—"
"Shut up, Dean," Jo interrupted him. "Like Garth said, this wasn't your fault, and if you even try to blame yourself-"
"Extreme violence. Don't worry, Jo, I know."
"Good," Jo grinned, "now come on! We have drinks to drink!"
They all laughed as they tumbled back into their seats, grabbing their drink and shaking off the tension from Lisa's visit. They'd been having an amazing evening before she turned up, and Dean was determined to get that back.
The weeks flew by and before Dean knew it, it was time for Cas' final appointment. It felt like just yesterday that Cas had walked into Inked Dreams, hoping to have the scars on his back covered, and now they were here. He couldn't stop the slight disappointment in his chest at the thought of never seeing Cas again, though he was glad he'd been able to help the angel's confidence with his art, and he hoped that if he just ignored the heavy feelings, they would go away—hopefully sooner than later.
"Welcome to the end," he joked as he led Cas back to his station, setting up his equipment for Cas' very last color session.
"Weird, isn't it," Cas murmured, pulling his shirt off and turning his back so Dean could get a good look at his nearly complete tattoo. It was healing well between sessions, Cas was clearly following all the care instructions carefully, and Dean was pleased to admit that even not yet fully finished, it was already his best work ever.
And so long as nothing went disastrously wrong today—a shiver went down Dean's spine just at the thought of it—it would be even better once complete.
"You know the drill," Dean murmured, his voice quieter than he'd meant it to be.
Cas didn't reply, just walked to the chair and lay down on top of it, relaxing his back so Dean would be able to work on it. He jumped at the first touch of Dean's latex covered hands, just as he had in every single other session they'd had.
"Are you ready?" Dean checked, waiting for Cas' confirmative nod before he turned the gun on and started working.
Their small talk was easy and light, familiar in a way Dean normally did his best to avoid getting with customers. He was polite and friendly to everyone, sure, but with Cas it was just… different. More.
It was why the thought of this finally being done filled him with both elation, and sheer dread.
"Do you ever take holidays?" Cas asked, barely stifling his laughter after Dean complained—for the third time—about people who came to him asking for a boring leaf design, when his skills far surpassed that.
"How is that related at all?"
"Because it sounds like you need one. I understand it's annoying, but I think you just need a break."
Dean quietly continued adding the details to the flower he was working on. Cas had a point, he probably did need a break. It had been a while since he'd been able to get away and just spend a week in the trees, and although he had never allowed his species to hold him back, he had to admit that living in the city was difficult sometimes. The problem was, although he loved the animals and the plants, he missed people when he left the city, and he could never convince anyone to come with him.
"Maybe you're right," Dean murmured, chewing on his lip as he thought it through. Maybe once he was finished here, he could look at the books and see when he could next afford to take a week off.
"You've got to look after yourself," Cas said softly, his nails scritching quietly against the leather seat as Dean hit a particularly painful bit.
"Thanks, Cas," Dean replied, being hit yet again with a reminder of how much he would miss Cas when his tattoo was finished. Obviously Dean had his friends who cared about him to the ends of the earth, but he'd never had anyone care about him quite in the way Cas seemed to care, even though they barely knew each other.
The appointment was over too soon. Dean felt like they'd barely started before he was done. He checked the tattoo a million times, compared it to the designs, checked it again, but he had no more work to do. Everything was done… and this was it.
He carefully leaned back, stretching his back when it complained—apparently it had felt the hours passing, even if Dean hadn't.
"Alright, Cas," he murmured, stripping his gloves off and reaching for the large hand held mirror. "Are you ready?"
"It's done?" Cas asked, his eyes already slightly glassey even without seeing it yet.
"Yup. You want to see?"
"Yes please," Cas whispered, turning when Dean pushed his shoulder—carefully so he didn't touch the sore skin of Cas' back—until his back was facing the large mirror Dean had on the wall. Dean silently passed him the hand-held mirror, holding his breath as he waited for the other man to see what he had done. He had a last minute burst of fear that Cas would hate it, but it was too late to turn back now.
Instead he would just have to hope.
"Alright," Cas whispered to himself, closing his eyes as he lifted the mirror, and then slowly blinking his eyes open again.
He burst into tears straight away, and Dean was left awkwardly sitting on his stool with no idea what to do. He could never deal with people who cried, but… he wanted to help Cas, even though he didn't know how to.
"Do you like it?" he asked carefully, bit wanting to interrupt Cas if he needed a moment, but also wanting to make sure they were tears of happiness, and not regret.
"I love it," Cas whispered, staring into the mirror as though he would die if he looked away for just a moment. "I'm an angel again."
"You were still an angel bef-—"
"I know," Cas interrupted, "but I—I feel like me again. Like the—the better version of the me before the accident."
"I'm glad," Dean said softly. "Are you done looking for now? I need to wrap it, you know the drill."
"Yeah," Cas nodded, slowly lowering the mirror to his lap. "Thank you, Dean."
"Just doing my job," Dean grinned, "but for the record, you deserve to be feeling good about yourself, and if my art is helping, then I'm thankful you chose to come here to get your tattoo."
"Look, Dean, this is going to sound out of nowhere, and I'm sorry about that," Cas said, awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, "but… would you be interested in meeting up with me, outside of your work?"
"As friends?" Dean asked carefully, "or like… a date."
"Whichever one you're most comfortable with," Cas promised quickly, "though admittedly, I meant as a date. You're cute and cool, and—yeah. As a date."
"I'd love that," Dean grinned, grabbing his phone out of his pants. "What's your number?." He felt giddy just saying it, and could barely believe this was real. He was going to be seeing Cas again.
He was going on a date with Cas.
This was really his life. This was really happening. Dean didn't think he'd ever been happier.
They talked for a couple of weeks, just texting, without organising a date. They didn't discuss it, but they both had come to a similar conclusion that they wanted to get to know the other outside the realm of Inked Dreams, before they organised anything. At first Dean had thought it was a brilliant idea because if it became clear that they had nothing in common in the real world, they could just back off without losing anything. By the end, Dean knew it had been an amazing idea because it meant he knew he wanted to date Cas.
Everytime they talked he found out something new, and something amazing, about the angel, and even if he refused to even think the ‘L word’ yet, he was definitely falling into something, a little bit deeper every time.
Cas: I’ve loved talking to you these past few weeks, and I was thinking…
Cas didn’t continue typing, leaving Dean clutching his phone, barely able to breathe. He had a feeling he knew where this message was heading, but that didn’t stop the cynical part of his psych telling him it was about to all crumble down around him. Cas was going to say it’s been lovely, but he’s had enough, and he hopes Dean has a good life but he never wants to see him again and—
His phone vibrated in his hand, and Dean slowly looked down, almost scared to see what it said.
Cas: Would you like to go on a date with me?
Dean let out a relieved breath of air, a small smile stretching across his face just from the thought of it.
Dean: I’d love that.
Cas: Great!
Cas: I’ll organise something, and send you the details later.
Cas: Is this Friday good?
Dean: This Friday is great.
He already couldn’t wait.
Dean was a jittery mess by the time Friday came around. He was so excited, but at the same time… he was terrified. What if he messed it up? What if he scared Cas off? What if he ruined everything?
"Dean, what the hell is going on with you?" Jo asked with a frown while Dean continued to fidget and shift his weight, unable to stand still for even a moment.
"I might… maybe… have a date tonight," Dean explained.
"You! With who?" Jo asked, looking genuinely excited. "Why haven't you mentioned this before now!"
"With Cas. I didn't say anything in case I jinxed it, but—I really like him, Jo."
"One moment," Jo grinned, taking two steps backwards and yelling through the store, "everyone come here!" Dean was thankful that they hadn't opened yet, otherwise this would be even more embarrassing than it was right now.
"What?" Garth asked, popping his head round the corner to stare at them. "Why did you call?"
"Come here!" Jo gestured wildly. "I'll tell you when everyone is here!"
It took a couple of minutes for everyone to trickle into the room, and by the time they arrived Jo was shaking with excitement.
"Dean has a date!"
"Wait really?" Charlie asked, "Cas?"
"Yeah," Dean smiled softly.
"Yay! I'm so proud of you!"
"Good for you, Brother," Benny said, "he makes you happy?"
"He really does," Dean nodded, “he… I know I haven’t known him for long, but he really does make me happy.”
“Well, I just checked your timetable for today,” Claire announced, ”and I’ve cleared it out. You’re gonna be busy on Monday, and Benny’s going to have to cover walk-ins, but you’re going home.”
“What?” Dean frowned, “no, it’s fine, I can—”
“Nope,” Claire interrupted, “you can barely stand still. I do not trust you with a tattoo gun right now.”
“No, I can—”
“No, Dean,” Garth frowned, “Claire’s right. You can take a day off.”
Dean wanted to argue, but his friends had a point, and right now his hands were shaking enough that he had to admit they had a point, and he would appreciate the extra time to get ready. Cas hadn’t told him what they were doing yet, but he knew it was outside, and he knew that his outfit for it needed to be perfect.
It took Dean two hours to pick an outfit, and then he spent the rest of the time waiting, watching Dr. Sexy and trying to ignore how nervous he was. It was definitely right for the others to send him home, he didn't even want to know what he would have done if he'd been tattooing while waiting. He didn't spend that entire two hours while he was getting ready staring at his closet, he just kept on getting dressed, heading downstairs, and then suddenly panicking and deciding that his outfit wasn't right. He'd then go upstairs, choose a new outfit, and then do the same thing all over again.
He heard the noise of a car pulling up outside, and moments later his phone vibrated with a text.
Cas: I'm outside.
He still wasn't fully certain about his outfit, but his time was up, so he just grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys, and headed outside. Cas was idling at the end of his drive, sitting in the driver's seat of a… Dean rubbed his eyes. Nope, he wasn't hallucinating. Cas really did own a golden Lincoln Continental.
Nice.
He felt the tension slipping out his shoulders as he hurried down the drive, slipping into the passenger seat with a, "Really? This is your car?"
"It's a good car," Cas replied, sounding amused, and when Dean turned his head to look at him, he felt his breath fly away.
Cas was breathtaking.
Except… no. He was more than that.
He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, more casual than Dean had ever seen him before, but with a certain confidence in his own skin that was almost visible around him. His hair was messy, as always, but there was something about him…
He was shining from within, and Dean just couldn't look away.
"Normally I'm the one with the staring problem," Cas teased.
“Really?” When Dean thought about it, Cas did sometimes stare for moments too long. Dean had never really thought about it. It was just what Cas did.
“Yes, and now you’re doing it.”
"Yeah, well," Dean chuckled, "it's not my fault you're incredibly hot."
"Incredibly hot?"
"I might have lost the ability to form words," Dean admitted with a shrug. "Now come on, what's the date?"
"I hope you like picnics," Cas replied, nodding into the backseat. When Dean twisted around he found a folded picnic blanket and a large picnic basket.
“I do,” Dean said with a small blush on his face. How on earth was Cas this perfect?
He could already tell this was going to be good.
Dean was right, of course.
Their date was… incredible.
They talked, they laughed, they exchanged stories and even when they were both quiet while eating, the quiet was warm and friendly, and not awkward in the slightest.
He and Cas got along even better in person than Dean remembered, especially seeing as Dean didn't have to worry about being professional around a client.
Nope. Right now it was just Dean and Cas, Cas and Dean, and they were amazing together.
"Pie?" Cas asked, pulling the final parcel from the basket.
"You brought pie?" Dean asked, his eyes wide. "Marry me."
It was just a joke, but already, even from this single date, Dean knew he didn't want it to stay that way forever.
They were going to have a future together, Dean knew it, and he couldn't wait.
Dean walked slowly, enjoying the feeling of dirt between his toes and leaves between his fingers. He'd known he missed the forest, but he'd never noticed quite how much he missed it until he was back. It felt like he could finally breathe again.
"Dean!" Cas' voice echoed through the forest, weaving through the trees lighter than the wind. Cas didn't belong to the forest like Dean did, but you wouldn't have been able to tell that after half an hour of them being there. Cas was as free as Dean was between the trees.
"Just coming!" Dean yelled back, brushing some of the dry leaves off his legs as he walked back in the direction of the small wooden cabin they were staying in for the two weeks they were on vacation for. It had been Cas who had actually decided it was time. They'd been dating for about a year now, and although Dean had been planning to take a break when they only just got together, business had started booming, and then Cas had some issues, and then Dean had even more issues, and by the time they were finally able to get away, it had been a year and Dean had never been happier.
Twelve months sounded like a long time, sometimes it felt like one too, but the amount that had happened in the last year… it felt like an eternity. A positive eternity. Dean's life was still the same as it had been before, but it was also distinctly better.
With Cas' support, Dean had called Bobby. Their first conversation had only been short, but it had been a start. Dean had been invited to more than one extended family gathering, and he'd even brought Sam to a couple, and it was lovely to see everyone again. Just like the forest, Dean hadn't realized how much he missed them all until he saw them again. It seemed they all disliked John and Mary even more than Dean, expressing their disappointment in their choices more than once, which Cas heartily agreed with.
It was amazing to be surrounded by family, without having his life shitted on every ten seconds. In fact, they were all really proud of Dean, and once he showed them Inked Dreams Instagram account, they got even more excited.
Even now, he smiled happily every time he thought about all their compliments and overwhelming support, and how much they loved Cas. Dean had never had a family who made him feel like his art was good before, and it was unreal to have it now he did.
Shortly after Dean reconnected with his extended family, he finally managed to cut himself off from his parents. He stopped going to their stupid fake happy family lunches, and although he sometimes felt slightly bad about it, Cas reminded him every time that he needed to do what was best for him, and this was what was best.
His slow ambling turned into running as he neared the cabin, the lovely smell of cooking wafting from that direction. Cas had managed to convince him to join a running club—Dean still didn't know why he'd agreed to go that first time—but now he felt healthier than ever, and he was meeting all kinds of new people. Sam and Cas would bring it up at least once every time they were all together, and Dean was too happy about the fact they got along to even be mad about it.
Cas was outside when Dean reached the cabin, talking to one of the trees and glowing in the glow of the sun through the leaves above them. Apparently, talking to trees was an angel thing, but Dean had the feeling it was just a Cas' thing. Just one more example of how perfect Cas was.
"Smells good," Dean called, taking the wooden steps two at a time and wrapping his arms around Cas the moment he was close enough. They shared a chaste kiss before Cas answered, the angel pulling away to talk before Dean had a chance to deepen it.
"It'll be ready in a minute," he hummed, "I should probably grab it out the oven. Did you have a good walk?" He pulled away with a soft smile and a squeeze of Dean's shoulder.
"It was good," Dean nodded, following Cas back into their cabin. "I saw some birds, a deer even came over to see me."
"I don't blame it," Cas grinned, heading over to the oven and pulling it open, releasing the delicious scent of freshly cooked lasagne. "You are definitely worth looking at."
"You're a dork," Dean said, though it sounded more like a laugh than the sigh it was meant to be. "Have you heard anything from the people back home?" The service was—understandably—terrible in the middle of the forest, so Cas had gone to look for service earlier in the day, just to make sure that they weren't needed for anything.
"Everyone sends their love, and Charlie wanted to warn you that you're going to have some pretty full days of tattooing when you get back. They all hope we have a good rest of our holiday, and look forward to seeing us when we're back."
Dean nodded along while Cas talked, a smile spreading across his face. Inked Dreams had become even busier than normal in the last year, which was yet enough reason why they'd only just found the time to get away to the forest.
"I look forward to seeing them again too," Dean nodded, "at the end of this week and not a day earlier. I'm enjoying getting you alone for once."
"I love you," Cas told him, placing the lasagne on the table and pressing a kiss to the top of Dean's head. "I'm so glad I chose to get a tattoo. I got myself back, just like I'd hoped, but even better… I got you."
"Have I called you a sap recently?" Dean asked, though he couldn't hide the bright red blush staining his cheeks, or the huge grin on his face. "Because you really are, Angel, the biggest sap I've ever met."
"Your favorite sap, though."
"My favorite everything," Dean agreed, leaning in to press a kiss to Cas' lips which the angel deepened.
The lasagne was cold by the time they sat down to eat it, and they had to quickly shove it back in the oven to reheat it. Neither of them cared though, it just gave them a bit more time to send each other soft smiles with spit-slicked lips, and to make each other blush with reminders of how much they loved each other.
