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“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Stiles whined, bouncing a little bit on the balls of his feet. He could tell he was wearing Cas down - a combination of nonstop begging, well crafted arguments and the fact that Cas wanted to go too.
“Dean does like cookies.” Cas said reluctantly, and Stiles cheered.
“Let’s go let’s go let’s go.” Stiles grabbed Cas by the wrist and practically dragged him out the door. He’d been carrying the bag of cookies with him whenever he talked to Castiel, just in case this was the time that Cas would cave.
Stiles wasn’t allowed to go to the firestation alone to see Derek. Or be alone with Derek at the firestation, something about his tendency to give Derek blowjobs in semi-public places. They’d finally settled on Stiles needing to be constantly with either a responsible adult or small child whenever he visited.
Erica, despite his many attempts, didn’t count as a responsible adult.
At the pace Stiles set it wasn’t long until he was half running into the garage. Even with his extra special werewolf skill set, Derek wasn’t prepared for a sprinting Stiles to practically tackle him.
“Hello, Dean.” Cas said, and Stiles slid off of Derek to see Cas holding himself at a careful distance from Dean.
Well, attempting to hold himself at a careful distance. Put those two in a room together and they had a habit of gravitating towards each other. Stiles was pretty sure they didn’t even notice it - he’d actually timed it once. It took about three minutes for ten feet to become ten inches, and that was /before/ they were fucking. Now it took about three minutes for twenty feet to turn into ten centimeters.
“Cas.” Dean said, and aww, he was blushing.
Stiles ‘jokingly’ referred to them as his otp. Dean wasn’t big on PDA’s, so it was a surprise for everyone but Cas when he gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek. Stiles tried not to look like he was dying of the cute.
Derek slid an arm around his waist, pulling him back into his chest so he could lean his head on Stiles’ shoulder.
“What’s in the bag?” he rumbled and Stiles was extremely confused for a moment before remembering his excuse for showing up.
“Cookies.” Stiles grinned. “They’re really good.”
“Did you make them?” Dean asked, and Stiles bit down a laugh at how excited he looked at the prospect. Stiles was a good cook, yeah, but Dean Winchester’s appreciation of food would never get old.
“Yeah, from scratch.”
Dean grinned, and even though Stiles was much less fluent in Stoic Angelman than he was in Murder Eyebrows, he could see the way Cas’ everything brightened.
“Awesome.”