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It all started with a sweater.
It was a little too big for Cas’ frame; the shoulder seams drooped down the tops of his arms and the sleeves covered his hands if they weren’t rolled up at least once. The collar was wide, three buttons (and one blank spot where a button should have been) made a line down the front, and on the sides there were pockets that were large enough to hold any multitude of small objects.
The most striking thing about the sweater was its color; a rich purple that verged on blue in the right light.
“Nice sweater, Cas.” Dean said, and he meant it. Cas smiled at him, a gummy thing that made Dean’s heart flip flop in his chest.
“Thank you, Dean.” He said simply before returning to his book.
After the sweater it was a blanket, folded neatly and draped over the arm of the bunker’s hand me down sofa. That same rich purple blue color that made Dean want to reach out and run a hand over it. The blanket was soft, obviously well used and well loved.
In the shower a bottle of body wash appeared – purple blue and labeled English Violet. It smelled sweet, with just a hint of something flowery.
Glass beads on a silk string wrapped three times around Cas’ wrist caught the light and drove Dean to distraction.
A collage of magazine cutouts on Castiel’s bedroom wall; flowers in tiny clusters, close ups of petals and leaves, larger flowers with thick stems – all that same color.
In the kitchen a random salad plate appeared, a rock on a bookshelf painted with tiny spiral designs, a pair of socks that accidentally ended up in his laundry (and maybe ended up in his drawer too.)
Dean never saw Cas bringing any of the items inside but here they were. He wondered what it was about the color that had so captivated the former angel’s attention (and his own, if he was being honest).
“What’s with all the purple, Cas?” he asked one night. They were curled up on the couch, the soft blanket across Dean’s legs, Castiel’s hands hidden in the sleeves of his sweater.
“I like it.” Castiel said, his stare open and honest as always. “Humans have favorite things and I have decided that it is my favorite.”
Dean nodded. He could understand that. Cas’ transition to full on humanity had started off rocky but seemed to be going better now. It made something in Dean’s chest bloom with warmth when he thought about Castiel making himself at home here, developing a personality, and coming into his own.
“Well alright then.” He said, turning back to the tv before adding, “It’s a good color, Cas. I like it too.”
After that he found a journal on his bed with a buttery tan leather cover and inside, light purple blue pages. He ran his hands over it, bending the flexible spine and fanning the pages. He’d kept a journal before he went to hell but once he came back, he hadn’t seen the point. His fingers itched to pick up a pen now though. Tucking the book under his arm, he went off in search of one worthy of such nice pages.
The next time they dressed in their fed suits, Castiel was wearing a purple blue tie. Dean had never noticed (ok maybe a few times) how the color accented Cas’ eyes and made the blue in them so much deeper. Sam smacked him on the shoulder, “You gonna stare all day or can we go?”
Cas had a cold. He was on the couch wrapped up in his blanket, purple socked toes sticking out of the end. Clutched to his chest was a small purple blue pillow embroidered with white flowers.
Dean held the tray gingerly in his hands using carefully measured steps as he approached the couch. When Cas saw him coming, he sat up. Dean held his breath as he sat the tray down across the other man’s lap.
Cas looked down at the tray and then back up at Dean, eyes wide and bright. “Dean..” he said as he lifted the small china cup.
The cup was white with a cluster of purple blue flowers on both sides surrounded by deep green leaves; the handle and rim of the cup were brushed with gold. Dean’s cheeks flushed as Castiel turned the delicate thing in his long fingers, inspecting each side of it.
“This is beautiful.” The words were barely a whisper but Dean heard them anyway.
“I’m, uh, I’m glad you like it. I saw the color and thought of you, so –“ he trailed off.
“It’s perfect, Dean. Thank you.” Cas said, his voice sounding scratchy and raw.
One day Sam came into the kitchen wearing a purple plaid shirt and Dean felt a little pang of jealousy at the sight.
“Cas give that to you?” He said, hiding his annoyance behind the lip of his coffee mug.
“What?” Sam asked. He looked down when Dean gestured. “Uh, No. I just bought a bunch of them the other day, grabbed one of each color.“ He paused, his eyebrow raised in Dean’s direction. “Why would Cas give me a shirt?”
Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and pulled him into his room, pushing him back onto the bed.
“Ok. I got something to add to your purple collection.” He said as he lifted the needle on the record player and let it drop into the groove.
The song started with static for a moment, a guitar building, a slow beat, and the crash of cymbals. He climbed onto the bed next to Cas, laying back with one hand behind his head. When the vocals came in, Cas looked over at him, a soft smile on his face.
I never meant to cause you any sorrow
I never meant to cause you any pain
I only wanted to one time to see you laughing
I only wanted to see you
Laughing in the purple rain
“I like this, Dean.”
“Thought you might. There’s a movie too but I’ve never seen it.”
Cas hummed attentively as his hand found its way into Dean’s and he laced their fingers together.
In one of the store rooms, he found a butterfly with shimmery purple wings suspended in a frame. Cas grinned ear to ear and hung it by his bed.
The first time they kissed Dean had his fingers curled into the back of Cas’ lavender t-shirt. Cas’ mouth was hot and insistent against his own and when Dean leaned in to kiss down his neck, he smelled faintly of English Violet.
When Cas moved into Dean’s room, the collection came with him.