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Honestly, it’s a wonder that Dean was able to breathe at all, sometimes.
He and Cas had been… whatever they were for two weeks. Kissing and cuddling and indulging in each other for two weeks. It was fucking scary, shoving past the part of his brain that said he was undeserving, that said he didn’t get to be happy, that eventually it would end like everything else good he’d ever had. But whenever he got too in his head, Cas was there with his stupidly soft smile and stupidly soft lips, and melted any coherent thought from his brain entirely.
His heart still stopped whenever he kissed him, sometimes he had to remind himself to keep breathing, or more embarrassingly, Cas had to remind him.
Whatever. Who fucking cares. He finally had what he wanted — Castiel.
Bacon was sizzling in the pan in front of him when he felt warm palms against his waist, and Dean honestly felt butterflies. And fuck off, he wasn’t a thirteen year old girl, but Cas had an unfairly huge talent at getting him speechless and flustered.
The arms slid forwards and around his waist, strong arms squeezed, and his heart stuttered in his chest when he felt a kiss pressed between his shoulder blades. Jesus Christ.
“Last time you distracted me in here we almost started a fire.” Dean scoffed, voice still a little deep with the lingering cling of sleep. Stood in an old tatty Metallica shirt and boxers, it was clearly the angel’s favourite look on him. In the mornings he was handsy.
“I promise to not let you start another fire, Dean,” he murmured into his shoulder blade where another kiss was pressed. Dean shivered. “I simply wanted to hug you.”
It should have been criminal how gooey he went inside. Cas had attached himself to his back like they were a pair of stickle bricks, and he didn’t have it in him to make him let go. He’d never been comforted by the touch of another before. On the hard days, days after bad cases or nights plagued by nightmares, the angel’s touch was enough to break through the fog in his head and soothe him entirely. He’d spend an entire lifetime in his touch if he could.
“Sap,” he scoffed instead, not mentally there enough to convey just how sweet it was, though his hand left the handle of the frying pan and reached down, squeezed one of the tanned arms snaked around him. “Gonna stay there all morning, facehugger?”
A soft huff of breath against the back of his neck. “I’m attached to your back, Dean, not your face.”
Dean snorted. “Yeah, pity.”
The arms around him shifted, and before he could make the connection to his brain what exactly happened, a warm palm was on his cheek and tipped his head to the side in time for his mouth to slot over Dean’s easily, and it felt like his heart was on the way to just giving out. A breathy little sound escaped up and out of his throat and his hands clutched at his shirt, frying pan and breakfast and the fire from last time completely forgotten.
It wasn’t even a particularly steamy kiss. Cas’ mouth moved slowly against his own, a thumb stroked along the skin of his cheek like he was being committed to memory, and when the angel finally pulled back his expression was so soft.
“Dean.”
“Mm?”
“Breathe.”
His inhale was shuddery as he clung to the other’s shirt, absolutely detesting the way his ears heated up in embarrassment, even more so when he was being smirked at. “Asshole.”
Cas just kept smirking, amused. “I’m sorry, it’s just a very nice feeling, knowing that I can get you like that.”
His face was hot too by the time he turned back to the pan to flip the bacon again, grumbling as he did so.
There was a soft laugh behind him before Cas was velcro against his back once more. Warm palms that once held blades and fought in the battles of heaven dipped beneath his shirt and stroked the soft skin of his abdomen, and Dean couldn’t imagine the idea that his heaven could be anywhere else but right there.
They stayed in a comfortable silence as he plated up the bacon and eggs from the stove. Every now and then he heard a soft hum behind him, or a kiss to his shoulder blades, and every now and then Dean lifted one of the angel’s hands and pressed a kiss to his knuckles with a smile.
Fuck the white picket fence and the mortgage, this was the apple pie life he desired.
Eileen’s soft laugh from down the hallway drew Dean’s attention from the soft mouth on the back of his neck and his hands reached down to pry the arms off of his waist. “Let go, you’re like a weed .”
Castiel grumbled against his shoulder. “Why won’t you just tell them?”
“Because it’s funnier not to.” Dean snorted.
He and Cas had already been having sex for a whole week when Sam came to him and gave him a lecture about feelings and how much you mean to Castiel. And instead of spilling the beans on the whole relationship thing, he’d bit the inside of his cheek to hide his smile until he laughed about it to his angel later. In his eyes it was hilarious, he honestly just wanted to see how long it took his giant baby brother to figure it all out.
Cas huffed again, though that time he did let go, and stepped across the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine as Sam and Eileen wandered into the kitchen. His brother’s hair looked like a bird’s nest and she was wearing one of his shirts like a dress — something he teased her for with a wiggle of his eyebrows to get Sam to glare at him with pink cheeks — but it was just nice to see his brother so happy. All those years ago, he hadn’t got to see what Sam was like with Jess, the girl who had once been it for him. It left a warm feeling in his chest whenever he got to watch Sam smile all dopey at Eileen, sickly-sweet in love.
He dished out plates of food, meeting his angel’s eyes across the room whilst Sam and Eileen talked away at the table in their own bubble.
“You owe me.” Cas mouthed, and the look on his face made Dean’s insides go all silly stupid with want again.
“ Love you too.” He mouthed back, grinning.