Chapter Text
Ever since Cas became human, Dean got to know more about the little quirks that made the guy all the more endearing. Like Cas falling into monotonous ramblings when he got excited, for one. And the way he set his alarm clock in prime numbers, like 0607 or 0701 because he believed their intimidating quality would help him wake up faster, that was just precious.
Above all, Dean learned that Cas was not a morning person by any means. Prime numbers did shit for waking the guy up. Until he got a decent amount of caffeine flowing in his vein, Cas was equivalent to a grumpy zombie, unresponsive and monosyllabic at best.
Or so Dean had thought, until that faithful discovery.
It all started when Dean casually tossed out the question, "You think Rey could be Luke's daughter?" while munching on his bagel. Dean was more or less talking to himself, as he knew that Pre-Coffee Cas wasn't one of the greatest conversationalists.
To his surprise, Dean heard Cas responding to him with, "I'm going to surround him with horny goats and subject him to their screaming for six hours and seven minutes."
Dean slowly turned his head toward Cas. Cas wasn't even looking at him. Dead eyed, Cas stood by the coffee machine and filled his mug.
Dean frowned, unsure. "Come again, Cas?"
Dully, Cas repeated, "I'm going to surround him with horny goats and subject him to their screaming for six hours and seven minutes."
"Ookay," Dean said, half-marveling at the fact that he still had the capacity to feel weirded out after all the shit he'd gone through. Then again, nobody expected to be word-bombed by a Pre-Coffee Cas first thing in the morning. He swallowed the last piece of his bagel. "Who's this he?"
"Luke, of course."
"Luke Skywalker?"
Cas rolled his eyes. "No, the prophet."
"Oh, that guy," Dean said. "What did he do?"
"Mostly inserting his asinine dreams in the midst of important prophecies," Cas said as he put his mouth on the rim of the cup, carefully gauging the temperature. "He needed to be continuously babysat lest he stray into narrating the adventure of traveling squids and their tragic dried out death. It was extremely detailed."
Cas sure had a talent in anteing up the weirdness level. Dean shuddered as he imagined what Bible would have been like if Luke had been allowed his creative license.
Cas nodded sagely. "I look forward to the day I'll infiltrate his Heaven. I'll perfect my plan 'till my inevitable death."
"That's.. one way to look at death," Dean commented. He was surprised at how the reminder of Cas's newfound mortality wasn't upsetting him much. To be fair, it might have been due to him having trouble associating Cas's death with unleashing of horny goats. He shook his head and asked, "But why didn't you do anything sooner?"
Cas shrugged. "It occurred to me that it was unfair of me to meddle with him as an angel. Luckily, that's no longer an issue. I'm not on the administrative side anymore."
"You planned this revenge the moment you became human, didn't you," Dean snorted.
"No," Cas said, terrifingly serious. "I began my planning from the moment he committed his atrocities."
"Even though you thought you would never get to do it?"
Cas paused. "You never know, Dean."
Dean stopped smirking. "..Remind me never to get on your bad side."
"You know I'll alway be on your side, Dean," Cas said earnestly. It was a sweet sentiment, which also doubled as an indication that caffeine was finally hitting Cas's system.
"Out of curiosity, just how many people are on your shit list?"
"One hundred and eight."
"Wow." Dean whistled. After a bit of hesitation, he asked, "Can I help?"
Cas raised his brow. "With the revenge plans?"
"Yeah, I'm good at pranking. Just ask Sammy."
Cas hummed. "This is a strange bonding moment."
"Well, our first meeting was in Hell." Dean shrugged, feeling strangely light. "Might as well raise Hell in Heaven after we kick the bucket."
Cas smiled at that, a shy, sincere one Dean liked the most. Okay, maybe not, Dean revised his opinion as Cas's smile morphed into a devious smirk. It was difficult to pin down which one was his favorite when his stomach was fluttering.
Cas saying "We'll make a list," had never sounded so good.
Chapter Text
Sam was reading a book on his bed when he heard a knock.
"Sam, can I come in?"
To his surprise, the voice belonged to Dean and not Cas. Sam sat up straight and put his book face down on the bed table. Dean never knocked. The most he ever did was knocking and coming in at the same time.
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Sam said, feeling rattled.
Dean shut the door behind him as soon as he came in. He swallowed nervously and fidgeted. He refused to make eye contact. He said, "Sam, I need your help."
Naturally, Sam's immediate response to this was, "Oh my God, who died?"
"What?" Dean's head snapped up. He frowned as if he was personally offended. "Dude, no one's dead. Why would you think that?"
"Well, what else was I supposed to think? Name three times you came for my help when lives weren't at stake."
Dean opened his mouth, thought for a second, then belligerently mumbled, "You name three times."
Sam decided to be a bigger person and let Dean off of his terrible comeback. "So? If no one's dead, what do you need my help for?"
"It's.. It's Cas."
Every romance movie that Sam had ever watched flashed before his eyes. He desperatedly thought of the most supportive pose he could strike. He tried leaning forward then made himself stop, not wanting to come across as too eager and creepy.
"Cas, right." Sam cleared his throat. "What do you need?"
"I need you to come up with the best prank idea ever."
Dean looked utterly serious.
"Dean," Sam said, wondering if he should be saying this, but what the hell. "You know that pulling pigtails approach is not the way to go, right? We're over thirties, man, we're above that."
"What? Oh, for fuck's sake," Dean blushed furiously. "Of course I know that. That's why I was trying to ask for your help. I need you to help me impress Cas."
So many questions came to Sam's mind. Starting with Wait, so you do know that you're madly in love with Cas? to Then why do you need prank ideas? to more put upon, When did that happen? Since when was I putting up with unnecessary UST?
"Hello? Sam?" Dean called worriedly as Sam briefly blanked out from the overload.
Sam shook his head. "Sorry, I was just.. I never thought you'd openely come to me for any relationship advice."
"Well, me neither." Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "New days, right?"
"Yeah." Sam tried not to feel too choked up. He was not a mother duck. "Anyway, why do you need to impress Cas? I think you already did that when you talked Amara out of destroying the world."
"But that's the big stuff you know?" Dean shrugged, still a little uncomfortable when compliments were given to him. "I wanna do something more.. personal for him."
"And pranking comes into the picture because..?"
"Oh, yeah, about that," Dean said more eagerly as he strode across the room and plonked himself down on the bed. "You gotta hear this. Cas has this shit list of people who annoyed him. He plans to get his revenge by annoying the hell out of them, mostly in their afterlife."
"Dean, you really gotta learn how to speak from the beginning. You're not making any sense."
"Don't blame your lack of comprehension on me," Dean teased, but told Sam about what happened the day before.
"..Well, now we know for sure that Cas is related to Gabriel," Sam commented, stunned.
"I told him that," Dean grinned. "And he lectured me on how no one was supposed to die over his 'just deserts.' He also said that those people in Heaven might find his revenge a bit refreshing considering that they spent thousands of years in a mindnumbingly happy dream."
"It's actually terrifying how much thought he put into this," Sam said thoughtfully. "Are we on the list, by any chance?"
"He said no. But I figured we could further lower the chance of us getting on the list by joining his team revenge."
"Good call," Sam nodded. "So you want me to come up with a plan we could use in Heaven?"
"No, actually, there's one person on the shit list who's still alive."
"Who's that?"
"You remember that time I forgot to stock up our coffee supply?"
"How can't I? I thought Cas might kill someone when you told him he either had to wait 2 hours until you came back, or dress up to go to the nearest coffee shop which would still take about an hour."
"Uh-huh, and there was this schmuck who cut in front of him."
"Ouch." Sam winced.
"That's the guy I need your help with. His name is Mike Miller. He's a florist and comes to the coffee shop Monday to Friday around 8 o'clock. He usually orders Americano, but on Thursdays he orders some fancy stuffs to cheer himself up."
That information was more detailed than Sam was comfortable with.
"Please tell me you didn't stalk this guy."
"I didn't," Dean said with shifty eyes. "But Cas might have driven to that coffee shop everyday for two weeks after the incident to confirm the guy's schedule. Also, Cas still drives there every Thursday to check."
Sam blinked, taken aback. "Cas is not about to wait until that guy dies, is he?"
"No one gets between Cas and his coffee, man."
"But wouldn't Cas regret it later if he does something too extreme?" Sam pointed out. "He seemed to have confined his revenge plan to people in Heaven only for reasons."
Dean nodded. "That's what I think, too. I wanted to come up with something before Cas could get all hell bent on the guy."
"And it has to be impressive enough for Cas to consider it," Sam said as he scratched his chin. It sounded tough to be sure, but there was a reason why he was the Sam fucking Winchester.
He already had several ideas.
Chapter Text
Dean looked down at the flowers piled on top of the library table and thought to himself, I might have gotten a tad bit carried away.
The flower thing wasn't even supposed to be central to the revenge scheme that Sam had cooked up. It was just supposed to be a signature move, like thieves on television leaving a letter of challenge to the police.
The way Sam told it, some flowers could be used as a great passive-agressive fuck you. For instance, geraniums meant stupidity, meadowsweet meant uselessness, and orange lilies meant hatred. Victorian dudes also sent garlics to imply that the recipient stinked and that he or she should be warded off like an evil force.
After hearing that, Dean thought he'd better give Cas a wide range of choices so Cas could get a kick out of arranging the flowers to spell out one of his creative insults. Since Cas found things like men endless chasing the divine and failing hilarious, Dean figured it'd be right up the guy's alley to insult a florist using flowers.
So while Sam and Cas went grocery shopping, Dean drove to the second nearest flower shop (obviously, Dean wasn't going to that dickbag's) and bought some of every flower with negative connotations. The florist had looked at him like she was torn between being happy for the sudden sales boost and being worried for his use of her precious flowers. It hadn't occurred to Dean at the time that he might be buying too much, but with the flowers spread out on the table, it kinda looked ridiculous.
However, before Dean could do anything about his impulsive purchase, Sam and Cas returned from their shopping. Dean paced around, baisically just flailing. Should he just hide everything?
His indecision turned out to be his worst enemy. Sam and Cas dropped by the library and stopped dead in their track.
"Oookay," was the only thing Sam said before he slowly slinked off.
Traitor.
Cas regarded Sam disappearing with curiosity, then turned to Dean. "Dean, what is this?"
With no place to back off, Dean haltingly explained everything. Well, babbled, more like.
"-so orange lillies are absolutely vital, you know?" Dean said as he waved his hands around. "Most flowers have double meanings, both positive and negative-"
"Dean-"
"-but orange lillies mean pure, unadulterated hatred. By putting them in your bouquet, you can make it clear that your intention is to insult and not-"
"Dean!"
"-to pay compliments, you don't want to do that, obviously. I mean- ummph!"
Dean's brain short-circuited for a second. Blankly, he wondered if he was getting kissed in the middle of his half-assed Insulting with Flowers 101, or if he was pathetically dreaming the whole sequence. Ooh, tongue, he thought, practically hearing his IQ dropping, and decided that if this was a dream, he'd better milk out every second of it.
After the kiss was over, Cas said, "Thank you, that was most thoughtful," his voice sincere and touched.
(And husky, oh god)
To which Dean asked, "Wait, is this real?"
Cas raised his brow. "We could kiss some more if you need convincing."
"I'd love that, but I'm not sure that'd actually convince me that I'm awake," said Dazed Dean. With his filter blown away, he admitted, "Is it a bad time to tell you that flower thing was Sam's idea and not mine?"
"Hmm, and how come Sam told you about the flowers?"
"I.. asked for his help. In, you know, coming up with a brilliant idea to impress you. Which, I think I'm ruining completely by not knowing how to shut up. I should probably shut up."
"I am impressed," Cas said, his eyes all adoring in a way that made Dean feel faint. Having Cas's arms around his neck didn't help the matter. "I know how hard it is for you to ask for any help. You went out of your way for me and that means a lot."
"I actually have a different set of flowers in my room," Dean blurted out. He felt like dying and needed to get these words out. "I bought them just in case and uh, I have, roses and amaryllis and stuff." Weakly, he added, "Wanna see?"
Cas pecked him on the nose and flashed him that devastatingly devious smile.
"Lead the way."
Notes:
The insulting flower message was actually not my idea. You can see the brilliant thing people came up with here: http://damnslippyplanet.tumblr.com/post/145903475746/flower-shop-au
-
The garlic thing is true. Google search 'Flower meaning insult'. It's wonderful how passive-agressive people can be.
-
Amaryllis means splendid beauty or worth beyond beauty.
Chapter 4: Ten Extra Things that the Author Couldn't Fit into the Story But Nontheless Wanted to Share
Summary:
I love making lists, if you hadn't noticed.
Chapter Text
1. 108 is said to be the number of human afflictions in Buddhism. Cas keeps the number of people on his shit list 108 because it makes him laugh. He often argues with himself as to which people should be included in the top 108 to wile away the time. He frowns while he does this, but he likes the elimination process, especially after he watched Project Runway.
"Peter, the way you non-stop doodled on the margin of the book you were supposed to be transcribing was such an asshole thing to do. However, you don't hold a candle against George who persecuted guinea pigs. I'm afraid you're out, Peter."
2. Luke was supposed to be surrounded by horny goats for an hour a day for eternity in Cas's original plan. However, Cas later realised that Luke might not have been so annoying if the guy hadn't been forced to become a prophet. Cas decided to scale it down to 666 mintues, but thought that the number was perhaps too on the nose. He decided to go with 6 hours and 66 minutes, flipped the numbers around to arrive at 6 hours 7 minutes instead of 7 hours and 6 minutes.
3. Dean may have googled what horny goats sounded like.
Don't do that.
4. The bouquet for Mike got a little wilty since Cas and Dean got distracted by other things, but they decided to leave it as such.
5. Fuck you very much, Mike. We aren't even going to exert extra energy to give you fresh flowers.
6. Dean vowed to himself never to piss off either the nerd angel or the nerd little brother. Dean prides himself in practical jokes but those two are just plain evil. Evil, he tells you.
7. Sam and Cas have made an excel spreadsheet to keep things organised.
8. Thinking of terrible revenge ideas is surprisingly good for anger adjustment. Dean and Sam started coming to Cas whenever someone upset them. They'd hatch out some insane plans together, then go into a heated discussion about whether or not this new person could belong in the top 108. Often, the discussion gets too ridiculous for any of them to keep a straight face. Cas is winning when it comes to that.
9. Whenever someone gets gripped by a wonderful idea during their insomniac hours, they write it down on a post-it and put it on the fridge so they might share it later with the class.
Nobody still knows what Sam meant when he wrote down Flossing!!!! with a flourished handwriting.
10. Oh, as for what the main prank reserved for Mike was, [insert the most hellish, yet environment friendly, casualty free, and not completely illegal thing you can think of].

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