Work Text:
Dean pulls the supplies out of the plastic bag. He doesn’t tell Cas but he splurged and bought him the good shaving cream, the fancy stuff they only sell at Target. He also got the really good razors, not the plastic ones in the bag, like he used his first time. He turns on the sink, hot water full blast. Dean grabs a washcloth and runs it under the now hot water.
“Okay Cas,” Dean says, checking his supplies one more time. “First you gotta, like take off your coat.” Dean says, looking him up and down. “Otherwise you'll get water all over.” Dean doesn’t need to swallow when he sees Castiel’s bare arms. And he really doesn’t feel a hitch in his chest when Cas strips off his dirty shirt.
“Maybe,” Dean swallows thickly. “I mean, maybe just take a shower first,” Dean says, not checking out the angel. He’s really not. “And then, you, like, rub this shit,” Dean picks up the shaving cream and waves it around before setting it back down, “all over your face and then use the razor to take it off with the hair.”
“Of course,” Castiel nods seriously. “I’ll let you know if I need help.” Dean trips on his feet, just a little walking out of the bathroom. It’s normal, it’s a small bathroom and they are both two fully grown men so there isn’t much space. It’s fine.
Maybe if Dean says it enough he will believe it.
Dean doesn’t look at Sam when he leaves the bathroom. “Cas is gonna shower,” Dean grunts as he sits down at the table. He grabs the newspaper from Sam and looks for leads.
Dean stares at the newspaper for fuck knows how long. He doesn’t hear when the shower turns off because he wasn’t listening for it. Cas can take a shower without his help. Dean jumps when the door opens. The cloud of steam that escapes from the bathroom is why Dean feels warm. Cas is standing in the door with a towel wrapped around his waist, beads of water still clinging to his chest hair.
“Dean,” Castiel calls. “I need your assistance.”
“Yeah,” Dean says quickly. “Yeah, I’ll just-“ Dean doesn’t meet Sam’s eyes as he points toward the bathroom. He’s on his feet, pushing Cas back in the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
The bathroom is too warm so Dean strips off his blue overshirt, tossing it on the back of the toilet.
“Hey, look at that,” Dean chuckles. “You’re still there under all that dirt.”
“Yes,” Castiel nods. “Where else would I be?”
“I- Nevermind,” Dean sighs. “Okay, turn on the water, make sure it’s warm. You wanna let the sink fill up a little then plug it. Makes it easier to get the hair of the blades.”
Castiel follows Dean’s directions to the letter. Dean’s only watching to make sure Cas doesn’t hurt himself, not because he’s distracted by the stupid water still clinging to Cas’ chest. Dean never knew the angel had chest hair.
“Right, so take the shaving cream,” Dean explains. “Build up a lather in your hands and rub it all over your beard.” Dean studies Castiel’s face for a moment. “Any longer and we woulda needed clippers. We should be fine though. You! I mean, you should be fine.” Dean says quickly.
The smell of mint fills the bathroom as Cas spreads the shaving cream over his cheeks. Dean tries not to laugh at the serious look on Castiel’s face. Castiel makes quick work of the packaging for the razor. Dean grabs the razor and swirls it around in the water for just a second and then hands it back to Cas.
Castiel brings the razor to his cheek, carefully dragging it through the cream. He moves the blades wrong around his chin, slicing open his skin. Castiel hisses, putting the razor down on the counter.
Dean grabs a wad of toilet paper and dabs at the blood on Cas’ face. “Shit, buddy. I didn’t think you would hurt yourself. Just,” Dean swishes the blade in the sink full of water. “Just let me do it. Not like you’re gonna need to do this again any time soon.”
Dean spins his finger, motioning for Cas to face him. He places a hand on Castiel's shoulder and then drags the razor down his cheek. Slowly but surely he sees more and more of the Castiel he knows and… and knows. The Castiel he knows. That’s it. He knows Cas and he cares about him, sure, because they are friends. This is a friends thing. Dean wets a washcloth and cleans the remaining cream and stray hairs off of Castiel’s face.
“There you go,” Dean says, patting his shoulder. “I’ll, uh, I’ll let you get dressed.” Dean quickly grabs his overshirt and pushes open the door.
“Thank you Dean,” Castiel says admiring his smooth face. “I’ll be able to do it next time.”
“Yeah, of course,” Dean says. He closes the bathroom door, taking a moment to put back on his overshirt before joining Sam at the table.
“Did he really need help shaving?” Sam snorts.
“He’s an angel,” Dean snaps. “When has he ever had to shave before?”
“Right,” Sam says, shaking his head. “Good thing you were there to help him.”
“Yeah, good thing.” Dean looks up as the door opens, Castiel is drying his hands with a towel. He’s dressed in his suit, tie, and stupid trench coat. Dean’s so happy to see him, back to normal he can’t speak. He shuffles his legs, trying to think of something to say.
“Better,” Castiel asks, spreading his arms wide.
Sam is staring at Dean. Cas is staring at him too. Dean nods at Cas and then stares down at the paper. Maybe he can find a case this time.