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Dean Winchester wasn’t father material. No matter what Sam, Cas, or Claire would say.
The pumpkin plushy staring at him from his shopping cart begged to differ. Dean ignored it and stepped into the check-in queue. The cashier gave him a soft smile when Dean asked for a separate paper bag for the small plushy. Dean ignored them as well.
***
The Impala’s rumble echoed in the vast Men of Letters’s Bunker garage. Dean turned the ignition off and stepped outside of the car. Two grocery bags in his hands, he made his way to the kitchen.
Kitchen which was already occupied.
“Heya Sammy!”
Sam greeted him with a nod, fully focused on eating his suspiciously green salad. Yuk, rabbit food…
“Are Cas and Jack around?”
“Yup. They’re in the library. Cas is teaching him new enochian sigils, I think?”
Dean mumbled a thanks, and unpacked the groceries. He carefully sat the paper brown bag on the kitchen’s counter and dutifully ignored Sam’s curious glance.
***
The library was feeling cozy. The warm glow cast by the wall light and the desk lamps, the low purring of Cas’s voice, explaining something to Jack. The room always smelled like ancient books and old papers, but it was now mixed with this particular perfume Cas was always carrying with him. A sweet mix of ozone, rain and wet earth, that Dean’s brain came to associate with comfort and home. Though this day, this sweet odor was also mixed with another one. Sweeter, it was half-way between nougat and cotton candy, with a hint of mint. Dean’s feeling about this odor was a whole other mess. Lots of love, regrets, and guilt there.
Dean’s grip on the brown paper bag quivered. He could feel his throat tightening. He swallowed and breathed deeply. His feet led him to the table where the two cosmic beings were sitting casually.
Cas greeted him with a bright, happy smile. The one so pure and full of love that Dean wanted to kiss him, hug him, and never let him go ever again.
Calm down, brain. He’s safe, remember. We all are.
Dean blinked and turned to Jack, holding the brown paper bag out to him.
“For you, kid.”
Jack’s face literally lit up. Dean looked away, his heart swelling painfully.
A paper crumpling noise, followed by a loud surprised gasp.
Dean stilled, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Five solid seconds of silence stretched. Dean forced himself to look back at the kid, guts gripped in fear.
The kid’s face was literally glowing. His smile was so big and bright, his eyes shining a warm golden hue, contemplating the small stupid pumpkin plushy sitting on the empty paper bag, like it was the seventh Wonder of the World. The kid finally looked up.
“Thank you, Dean!”
He was now holding the plushy in his hands like it was so precious and fragile. Dean cleared his throat and rubbed his neck.
“Yeah, it’s nothing. I saw it in the store and— Anyway, glad you like it!”
Dean could feel Cas’s loving gaze on him. He fled the room, feeling like an impostor.
***
Three short knocks were tapped on his bedroom’s door. Dean looked up from his laptop. Cas was standing on the doorstep, looking adorably shy.
“Come on in, man. This room is as much yours as it is mine, now, ya know,” Dean chuckled, a slight blush on his cheeks.
Cas gave him a tender smile and entered, closing the door behind him. He took a chair to sit right next to Dean, knees bumping against his. The angel gave him another soulful loving look.
“It was a very nice gesture, Dean. Jack really appreciated it.”
Alone with Cas, Dean allowed himself to shyly duck his face and blush. He rubbed his face, his eyes prickling.
“It was just a stupid plushy… It’s not like—,” Dean swallowed, “I feel so shitty, man. Trying to buy the kid’s affection, after everything I put him through… I am already so lucky that he bears my presence.”
A warm hand came cupping his cheek, to tilt his face back up. Cas was looking so sad and yet, so loving and forgiving. Dean really wanted to cry.
“Your past doesn’t define what you are. A wise man once told me that we all make mistakes, but the most important thing is to learn not to repeat them, and to try our best to make it up to the person you hurt.”
Dean closed his eyes, a solitary tear rolling on his cheek. He smiled softly at the feeling of Cas’s grace thrumming through his skin, warming his face and soothing his guilt and sadness.
“Jack loves you, Dean… And for the record, so do I, Cas added, with a hint of playfulness in his tone.
“You—”
“Don’t dare reply ‘You shouldn’t’, Dean Winchester.”
Dean opened his eyes, to witness Cas’s angry and all smity face. The hunter leaned in to kiss him, a soft smile on his lips.
“Ok, powerful wavelength of celestial intent, I won’t say it, please don’t smite me.”
His kiss was met with a smirk.
“You’re an idiot, Dean.”
Dean gave him another peck on the lips.
“I know, I love you too.”