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Sam wasn’t watching where he was going. In retrospect… no, actually, he’s just as happy he wasn’t. He was busy watching an angel. There was a cute boy, probably Sam’s age, talking to three small children. One of the girls giggled, and the boy looked up. Sam couldn’t help being struck by the boy’s blue eyes, which unfortunately meant that he couldn’t help being struck by the stair railing. And then falling down the stairs.
Dean loved to tease him about how he fell for Castiel.
Castiel came flying down the stairs. Okay, maybe that was the concussion talking. He probably just ran. When he got to the bottom and knelt beside Sam, he reached out and touched Sam’s arm. “Are you okay?”
“I… think I will be.” Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Call my brother, will you? Dean. He’ll…”
“Shouldn’t I call 911? You could have broken bones, a concussion…”
Sam laughed as well as he could. “Yeah, but they might need you to stay on the line. Call Dean, tell him Sam’s hurt at the library, and then you can call 911.”
Castiel gave Sam a skeptical look, but scrolled through the contacts to Dean. “Sam’s hurt at the library.” His face contorted and he pulled the phone away to stare at it. “He hung up.”
“You told him all he needed to know. He’ll be here before the ambulance, just wait.”
When Dean got there, he found Sam and stared down Castiel. “Who’s that?”
“My name’s Castiel. I saw your brother’s accident and came to help.”
Sam laughed. He blamed the concussion for the fact that he told Dean, “He actually caused my accident. His fault for being so damn beautiful I couldn’t stop staring to watch where I was going.”
Cas turned red and moved away from Dean, who was getting his murder face on. “I’m… sorry?”
Fortunately, the paramedics showed up then. Cas offered Dean Sam’s phone, but Dean shook his head. “You should ride with him. I’ll follow you there.”
Sam and Cas started dating not long after, and Cas and Dean became best friends. For Cas’s birthday, Sam baked a cake. Dean rolled his eyes, but promised Cas he’d teach him how to return the favor.
Following the recipe was easy. Getting it into the oven, not a problem. But then Sam came home early, and Castiel needed to find a way to distract him, and in his panic failed to think through what would happen if he dragged Sam to the couch and threw him down on it.
They both had their shirts off and Sam’s pants were around his ankles when the smoke detector went off.
Dean came running down the stairs. “What the… oh god!” He slapped his hands over his eyes. “What’s on fire? And so help me if either one of you makes a bad sex joke I am murdering you both.”
Cas’s eyes got huge. “Fuck!” He ran to the kitchen. Sam followed as best he could while pulling up his pants.
Dean growled. “What did I just say?”
“That wasn’t… that’s not what I meant.” Cas found the oven mitts and opened the oven. “Um… happy birthday, Sam?” He pulled out the blackened cake with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I was… it was supposed to be a surprise, and I didn’t want you to smell it before it was ready…”
Dean groaned. “You’re kidding me. Cas! What’s the first lesson I taught you about kitchen work?”
“Pay attention to what you’re doing.” Cas winked at Sam. “In my defense, I was paying very thorough attention to one of the things I was doing…”
“Oh my god, shut up.” Dean finally let his hands drop from his face. “I’m traumatized, and now there’s not even cake to heal my trauma.”
“Hey, there’s still frosting,” Sam pointed out. “Could do something with that.”
“Your brother said to stop talking like that.” Cas kept his voice and face completely neutral as Sam turned red and burst into laughter and Dean threw up his hands and stormed off. When Dean finally came back, two hours later, Sam and Cas had found a good use for the frosting and cleaned up afterwards, and Dean had pie.
Sam had his law school acceptance, Cas was preparing to start medical school. Finals were done. Sam curled up on the couch beside Castiel, laying his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey. We survived undergrad.” Castiel turned to kiss Sam’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted. I need sleep.” Sam snuggled in closer, and Cas held him close.
An hour later, when Dean came in, he looked at Cas. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Life is good.” Cas looked down at Sam. “Except for the part where my arm is asleep but I can’t move it.”
“Why not?”
“Because. If I move, Sam will wake up. You know he hasn’t slept more than twelve hours this week.” Castiel smiled as Dean rolled his eyes. “Besides, he looks so much like an angel, doesn’t he?”
“Angels don’t sleep, Cas.”
“This angel does. He’s perfect.”
Dean shook his head. “Oh god. It’s been three years. You have to have figured out that he’s not perfect! Although between us, you’re the only one I’d ever admit that to.”
“He is perfect, though. All the little imperfections about him just make me love him more. Like this.” Cas shifted position carefully, trying to get blood flow back to his arm without moving Sam at all. "How boring would it be if he were actually perfect?"
“He talks the same way about you. Last week, when you got him lost and were halfway to Nevada before you’d admit it?”
Castiel laughed quietly. “When I did figure it out, I was so tempted to just keep navigating him to Vegas. Then I realized you’d kick our asses if we got married and didn’t invite you.”
“Damn straight I’d kick your asses.” Dean looked fondly at Sam. “Why don’t you take him upstairs and put him in bed?”
“Are you kidding? My clumsy ass? I’d drop him down the stairs. Again. And he might not be so forgiving this time.”
“Okay.” Dean came over and picked up Sam.
Sam stirred. “Dean?”
“Your boyfriend’s too scared to carry you himself. Once I get you in your bed, I’m turning it back over to him.” Dean headed out, Castiel right behind him.