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Dean awoke to the sound of clattering dishes coming from downstairs in the bunker. He grumbled and blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he threw the covers off. His legs swung over the edge of the bed and his feet slipped into the fuzzy, gray bedroom slippers that were on the floor. What the hell could Sam be doing downstairs at 2 o’clock in the morning that required so much noise?
The oldest Winchester pushed his bedroom door open and dragged his feet down the hallway and to the staircase. He almost slipped on the first step and he swore but regained his balance. Sam – or whoever was in the kitchen – paused their banging around as they heard Dean yell out, but quickly returned to their noise-making. Dean continued down the stairs and through the library. In his sleepy state, he bumped into a chair.
“God damn it…” Dean mumbled as he winced at the slight soreness of his stubbed toe. But he was Dean Winchester; he’d witnessed much worse pain. The man had been to hell, for god’s sake. So he continued on his trek to the kitchen, still in a half-asleep state.
“Sammy, what are you doing up this late making so much no-“ Dean stopped in his tracks as he reached the kitchen doorway. He had to be dreaming. There, standing in his kitchen, was his fallen angel, making bacon and eggs. He was wearing a red and gray plaid shirt and dark jeans. Cas hadn’t stopped by the bunker or even interacted with Sam or Dean in at least 4 months, since he’d fallen. Yet here he was, making frigging breakfast at 2 o’clock in the frigging morning. Cas turned around at the sound of Dean’s voice and merely smiled. Dean stood there for a second, mouth hanging open, before saying something else.
“Uh, Cas?” Dean began. He was at a loss for anything else to say.
“Hello, Dean.”
“You don’t show your feathery ass for 4 months and when you finally show up in the middle of the night you say ‘Hello, Dean’? That’s all you got?”
“I’m aware I may have caused you and Sam to worr-“
“Don’t even start with the damn apologies, Cas. I don’t wanna hear it.” Dean regretted his words as soon he said them. He had missed Cas, he really had. Not that he’d admit that, though.
“Would you like me to leave?” Cas asked, his eyes full of an emotion Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. Dean glared at his own feet for a few seconds before answering.
“No. Stay, please.” Dean responded, not realizing his own shaky tone of voice as he spoke. “Also, why are you making breakfast this early in the morning? Where did you learn to cook?”
“I was hoping to surprise you and Sam when you two awoke in the morning,” Cas said a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t realize that my activities would be loud enough to wake you up.”
“Oh. Well could I try some of that bacon? I’m starving.” Dean’s stomach growled in a retort to his comment. Castiel smiled and went to get a plate out of the cabinet. It took him a moment to realize that he didn’t know where the Winchesters kept their tableware.
“To the left of the stove, top cabinet,” Dean replied to Cas’s silent questioning look.
Cas opened the mentioned cabinet near the stove and pulled out a blue dinner plate. He served up an egg and a couple strips of bacon.
“Would you like some toast with your egg?”
“Yeah. But don’t worry, man! I’ll make it.” Dean said as he got up and went to get bread from the counter next to the fridge. “You’ve worked hard enough already.”
Once the toast had been made, Dean and Cas sat down next to each other at the tiny kitchen table. Cas easily could have sat on the other side of the table, but there they were, almost too close for comfort. Dean almost said something about it, before he realized that it didn’t really bother him. That thought bothered him, though.
They sat in a not-uncomfortable silence for a couple minutes while Dean munched on his eggs, toast, and bacon. Cas hummed tunelessly to himself as he glanced back and forth from Dean to his own hands tapping out a rhythm on the table in front of him.
“So,” Dean started to say as he finished his food and pushed his dish forward. “You still haven’t told me how you learned to cook.”
“Well, I’ve been on my own for months. It wasn’t exactly easy, but I had to pick up a few human skills here and there.” Cas scrunched up his face as if he was thinking. “I still haven’t grasped the basics of driving a vehicle, though. I had to take a bus here.”
Dean chuckled. His Cas, learning how to cook and drive and do normal human things. Wait, did I just call him my Cas? Dean thought. He brushed it off.
Cas and Dean stared at each other with big grins on their faces for a few seconds before Cas slid his hand across the table and grabbed Dean’s. Dean jumped, and let go in his surprise.
“Dean, I’m sor-“ Cas began, his face full of worry that he’d done something wrong.
Dean just grabbed Cas’s hand back and squeezed it. He gave him a look that said simply, it’s ok.
After about half an hour of Cas telling Dean about his adventures as a human in the past four months, Cas yawned loudly. Dean looked at the bags under Cas’s eyes. It was the first time that night that he’d realized just how tired his best friend looked.
“Cas, buddy, when was the last time you slept?”
“About 3 days ago.”
“Dude! You need to sleep daily. Well, nightly. Whatever.”
“Sleeping is uncomfortable, though, Dean,” Cas said matter-a-factly. “I can never seem to get into the right position to fall asleep properly. It’s the thing that’s been the most difficult to adjust to as a human.”
“I would say that I’d stay up the rest of the night with you, but you really look like you need sleep. And even I need my four hours,” Dean said, standing up and pulling Cas with him. Here, I’ll show you to the guest bedroo-“
“Dean, wait.”
“Yeah?”
“Could I maybe… Could I maybe…”
“Spit it out, Cas.”
“Could I maybe sleep in your room tonight? With you? I’m kind of afraid of the dark…” Cas was now blushing furiously and looking at his feet.
“Would sleeping in my room tonight make you feel better?”
Cas nodded.
“Alright, fine. But this is a one-time thing. And Sam can’t find out! He’d never let me live it down.”
The Winchester put his dishes in the sink and trudged through the library and up the stairs with the ex-angel. They tiptoed down the hallway so as to not wake Sam, and slipped into Dean’s room. Dean flicked the lights on as soon as the door was closed behind them. Cas marveled at his surroundings. The room just seemed so… Dean… to him. It was as if someone had taken Dean’s personality and put it into a room. The weapons on the wall, the picture of his mother on the nightstand, the memory foam bed. It felt like home to Cas.
“So, uh, you’re gonna need some pajamas,” Dean said, going over to the dresser and opening the middle drawer. “Here, you can pick a t-shirt and I’ll get you some pajama pants.”
Cas walked over to the dresser and rummaged through the shirts before pulling out a gray t-shirt with the words “Star Trek” and the Starfleet insignia on it.
“I like this one.”
“Oh, Charlie got that for me,” Dean replied as Cas began unbuttoning his plaid shirt. Dean tossed him a pair of blue and gray flannel pajama pants. “I’ve never actually worn it, though, considering it’s kinda dorky.”
“Is dorky not a good thing?” Cas scrunched his eyebrows together as he pulled the Star Trek t-shirt over his head and his legs through the flannel pants.
“Eh, it’s just not my style. It suits you, though.” Dean smiled a goofy smile as he looked at Cas in pajamas. They smiled at each other for a few seconds before Dean broke the silence.
“So, let’s get to bed.” Dean climbed onto the right side of the bed and patted the spot next to him. “C’mon Cas.”
Cas stood awkwardly for a second before getting into bed next to Dean. They sat there for a few seconds before Dean pulled the covers up and snuggled down. Cas followed suit. The two men lay facing each other, Dean with his eyes closed. ¬
“Dean,” Cas whispered.
“What?” Dean’s eyes snapped open.
“Are you asleep?”
“Obviously not.”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“Back in the kitchen… When I… I grabbed your hand. I felt something. I’m not sure, but it was an immense amount of emotion to feel all at one time. I’ve been to heaven, I’ve seen many great things, but I’ve never felt this strongly about something. Or someone.”
Dean blinked. “Cas, what are you trying to say?” His voice sounded unsteady.
“Dean... I think… I think I’m in love with you.”
Dean’s heart dropped as he stared straight into Cas’s eyes. His hand found its way up to Cas’s cheek and cupped it. He scooted closer to Cas until they were only an inch apart.
“Dean-“
But Dean shut him up by pressing his lips to the other man’s. Cas was alarmed at first by began to kiss Dean back. Dean slipped his arms around Cas’s waist and pulled him even closer. When they pulled apart, they were both smiling like idiots and gasping for air.
“I love you, too, Cas,” Dean whispered, kissing Cas’s forehead.