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This was stupid.
It was a convoluted idea of Sam’s, a way to ‘unwind’ after all their recent stress. Here he was, Dean freakin’ Winchester, the man that monsters had nightmares about, at a fair.
He sulks along behind his brother and Eileen, who are having way too much fun in his opinion, Cas walking beside him silently. They’ve been wandering aimlessly for close to an hour now, and Castiel finally stops, looking at a booth curiously, almost human in the change of clothes Sam convinced him to wear to avoid attracting attention. He looks a little like he did on Dean’s trip to the future all those years ago, the canvas jacket and the cargo pants…minus the grime and the beard anyway. Oh, and the whole being high part.
“Cas, come on,” Dean grunts, stopping and walking back to him. Cas was looking at one of the sharp shooter games, where they give you a toy gun and you attempt to hit the little metal moving targets. Dean had been able to beat them since he was ten, they hadn’t proved much fun after that. Then again neither had fairs.
“So, it’s a game?” Cas asks.
“Yeah, get a certain number of points, you get a cheap ass prize that no one really wants,” Dean explained.
“But, if no one wants the prize, why play the game?” Cas wonders.
“I don’t really know,” Dean sighs, turning to catch sight of Sam and Eileen at a funnel cake booth just a bit further down. Now that was the part of the fair Dean could get behind. “Come on, Cas,” he insists, turning to walk away and tugging gently on his arm. Cas of course, doesn’t move, because the guy is stubborn like that. “Cas?” he tries again.
“I am curious to see how this works,” Cas explains, still unmoving. Dean groans, giving into the angel’s curiosity.
“Fine, one round, then we go get something to eat, alright?” Dean relents. He tugs his wallet out of his pocket, walking up to the apparently bored out of his mind attendant. “How much for a game?” Dean asks. The guy hardly spares him a look, his eyes glued to his phone.
“$5,” he says, holding out his hand. Dean swallows his indignation that it costs that freaking much to play this stupid little game, but he hands the teen the bill and picks up the little gun, checking it to make sure it wasn’t tampered with. He steps up to the designated spot as the kid blindly reaches over to start the game running, the groan and whine of the gears as they start moving the targets grating even further on Dean’s nerves. He glances back at Cas, who is staring at him intently, almost smiling, and Dean puffs his chest up a bit. Well, if he has an audience, might as well show off.
“Watch this,” he says with a wink, turning back to the targets. When the bell rings to start his timer, Dean starts shooting, the little ding of the bell each time he hits a target ringing out steadily. It’s simple, the flow of target to target, the ease of even the supposedly difficult shots, and Dean finishes the rounds in his borrowed pistol just before the timer goes off.
Every single target is down, and the pimpled kid is staring at him in utter shock, his phone forgotten in his hand.
“So, what did I win?” Dean asks. The kid just shrugs his shoulder, gesturing at every single prize in his booth. “Okay then, one of everything.” The kid hands him three cheesy stuffed animals, a bubble wand, and some weird puzzle box thing. Dean hands two of the stuffed animals to some nearby kids, but Cas won’t let go of one of the plushes, or of the bubble wand. Dean turns to scan the crowd for Sam. “What are you going to do with those?” Dean asks him with a chuckle, pocketing the puzzle to give to Sam when he finds him.
“The animal I thought I would gift to Claire, it’s similar to the other feline toy you helped me pick for her,” Cas explained. “And I’m not even sure what this is…” he’s examining the bubble wand, tilting it back and forth and watching the liquid shift in the container.
“It’s bubbles, Cas. You know, soapy liquid…” Dean trails off because he doesn’t really know how else to describe freaking bubbles . He finds Sam at a table with Eileen, a couple of funnel cakes in front of them, and it appears she’s trying to teach Sam a new sign. “Come on, Cas.” Cas lets himself be led over to the others, and Dean tries not to blush when Eileen looks over at him and giggles.
“Where’d you guys go?” Sam wonders when he looks up and sees them. “And why does Cas have a bubble wand?”
“Shut up,” Dean grouses. Eileen signs something, and Cas smiles and nods, setting down the stuffed animal and opening up the bubble wand. It was weird, finding out that Cas knew sign language, and Dean wonders what kind of conversations he and Eileen have about him and Sam. All three hunters watch in amusement as Cas examines the wand, the film of the bubble juice just visible in the sunlight.
“Just wave it through the air, Cas, in one fluid motion,” Sam encourages him. Cas does, a small stream of bubbles following his hand.
“Oh!” Cas sort of exclaims, and Dean can’t help but smile at the childlike wonder on his face. Eileen laughs, signing for Cas to do it again, and he does, another cloud of bubbles filling the air. Dean sits on the bench next to his brother, digging into one of the cakes as Cas moves away to keep experimenting with his bubbles.
“It’s good to see you both happy,” Sam says quietly. Dean flushes and shrugs.
“He wasn’t going to leave until I showed him how the carnival game worked,” he explained quickly. Eileen raised an eyebrow at him, signing as she spoke.
“I’m sure that’s the only reason.” Dean flushes a brighter red and shoves a bite of funnel cake in his mouth.
Cas got about halfway through the tube of bubbles before they left the fair, handing the rest to a little girl and rinsing off his hands in a water fountain before climbing into the Impala. They all went back to the bunker, Sam moving off to take a shower while Eileen made her way to the library. Dean walked to his room, kicking off his shoes and taking off his overshirt, about to change out of his sweaty tee when Cas knocked quietly on his door.
“Thank you for indulging my curiosity today,” he said, still wearing the borrowed jeans and overshirt.
“It’s fine,” Dean said with a wave of his hand. Cas shifted closer to Dean, seemingly nervous.
“I’m aware that… at least in many of the movies humanity has made, that the gesture of giving the prize to someone else can be considered romantic, and I-” Dean choked on air, cutting off Cas’ words.
“I, uh, I just-” he stammers, turning crimson.
“I wanted to thank you,” Cas added, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. “It was a very subtle way to finally tell Sam about us.” Dean huffed a laugh, leaning in to press his lips briefly against Cas’ temple.
“Think he figured it out?” Dean asks, smiling at the angel.
“I believe we’ll find out tonight,” Cas shrugs. “I overheard him telling Eileen he wanted to talk to her about something when he finished his shower.” Cas leans in, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you, for today,” he says quietly. Dean smiles into Cas’ hair, his hand running along his back fondly.
“Of course,” he says quietly.
After dinner that night, Sam pulls Dean aside to ask about Cas, but before they leave the room, Cas leans in and kisses Dean on the cheek, and Dean simply smiles at the dumbfounded look on Sam’s face.
“What, you didn’t know?” he chuckles, smacking Sam’s shoulder fondly before following Cas back to Dean’s room, and the only bed Cas has slept in for months.