Chapter Text
Dean Winchester woke up one June morning in his husband's arms, the smell of freshly laundered sheets still lingering in the air. Cas shifted unconsciously in his sleep, pulling Dean closer to him and Dean let him do so. The sun was barely peeking through the curtains but Dean knew he had time to go back to sleep if he wanted to. He had all the time in the world with Cas.
There were bees painted on the ceiling foraging in a field of flowers. Claire and Kaia had painted them a few years ago, with Claire threatening to rip Dean's tongue out if he kept saying how adorable they were together. He obviously hadn't listened to her and Claire had made him swallow a liter of paint while he was too busy laughing. Cas had tried to look stern as he walked back from the museum with Jack but his sparkling blue eyes had betrayed his amusement. In the end, all five of them had piled into the Impala, covered in paint, to go eat ice cream and watch the sunset.
(Cas had made Dean, Claire, and Kaia clean the house the next day while he went back to the museum with Jack. Jack really liked the dinosaur exhibit.)
Dean watched Cas sleep for a few more minutes in the soft glow of the morning sun, enjoying the serenity on his face, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the happy lines around his eyes. He truly was the most beautiful person Dean had ever seen. Full of light and humanity.
Gently, so as not to disturb Cas' sleep, Dean got out of bed and kissed Cas tenderly on the forehead. As if sensing his presence, Cas smiled before hugging the pillow Dean had left behind.
Dean fell in love with him a little more. Like every morning and every evening.
Dean pulled on one of Cas' t-shirts that was lying on a chair and took one last look at Cas sleeping before heading out of the room. He left the door ajar, his feet crunching against the wooden floors of the old house on his way to the kitchen. Only a few years ago, Dean would have subconsciously learned which floorboard creaked to avoid it and kept a low profile, but he no longer needed it. They were safe here, away from monsters and chaos. A haven of peace built with their own hands.
Their Garden of Eden.
(Cas had told him about the Garden of Eden once, about its beauty and its peace. About its perfection. They were lying on a blanket in the grass, Dean had his head in Cas' lap, looking up at the stars. Cas's eyes were admiring and distant as he ran his hand through Dean's hair, telling him about the Dawn of Time. A particularly bright star had crossed the sky above their heads, lighting up their faces and Cas had leaned down to kiss Dean, whispering that what they had created together was much more precious.
Messy and painful sometimes, but free .)
Dean grabbed the butter, milk and eggs from the fridge and took advantage of the fact that Cas wasn't there to close the door with his foot, having his hands full. One of the magnets Sammy had brought back from his travels fell to the floor and Dean put it back in place before retrieving the rest of the dry ingredients from the cupboards above the sink. He placed his phone on the large wooden table, away from possible spills of ingredients — he had learned his lesson, thank you very much — and started a random playlist.
With movements practiced over and over again, Dean washed his hands and set the pan to heat on the gas hob while he prepared the pancake batter. Now that Cas was human, he could appreciate the taste of food on a more than molecular level. To catch up with Cas' lack of knowledge in matters of gastronomy, Dean and Cas had taken a cross-country road trip, stopping only to eat and not to hunt monsters. It had been grandiose. And when Dean was able to overcome his fear of flying, they would repeat the experience around the world.
(No shame to American cuisine, but still a little bit.)
So whenever he could, which was often now that he had more free time, Dean cooked for Cas. Cas's favorite recipes were burned into his memory and his actions, replacing years of lore and hunter reflexes.
Dean grabbed at the apron at random to protect himself from splashes of oil or paste and tied it around his waist. He glanced at the apron he had chosen and smiled to himself. It was the one Jack had made at school for Mother's Day with colorful handprints and the name Dean embroidered above the center pocket. It was one of the most precious things Dean owned.
(Having a second chance, or third chance Dean didn't dare count on anymore, with Jack, repairing their relationship and finally being the parental figure the kid deserved was a blessing Dean strived to honor every day.)
Placing the back of his hand a few inches above the pan, Dean decided it was hot enough and poured the pancake batter into it. Waiting to flip the pancake, Dean tapped the beat of the music with his spatula against the counter and hummed softly, just loud enough not to wake Cas. When bubbles formed on the surface of the pancake, Dean lifted it from the pan with his spatula and with a flick of his wrist flipped it into the air to flip it.
Dean repeated the process several times until the bowl was mostly empty, balancing each pancake on top of each other on a plate next to him. Dean poured the last of the batter into the pan and pushed the empty bowl into the sink, dancing around as he waited for it to cook. When he was satisfied with the golden color of the pancake, Dean turned off the gas and made the last pancake fly into the air before catching it in his mouth. He turned, still dancing, and froze for a moment when he saw Cas leaning in the doorway, a loving smile on his face.
“Morning Sunshine!” Dean greeted with his mouth full. “I made pancakes for breakfast.”
Cas pretended to roll his eyes but moved closer to Dean to kiss him on the cheek. Unlike Dean who liked to take his time waking up in the morning when he had the chance, Cas always took his shower immediately after waking up and his hair still smelled like jasmine shampoo.
“Hello Dean,” Cas replied, his deep voice still sleepy. “Did you leave any pancackes for me?”
“Of course!” Dean replied with his hand on his chest, falsely offended. “I wouldn't dare deprive you of pancakes for breakfast.”
Dean let Cas take the pan from his hands and start washing the dishes while he set up the breakfast table. He took the juice from the fridge, two clean glasses, cutlery and two plates from a cupboard and sat down with his back to the open window. A light breeze rushed into the room, making the early summer heat more bearable.
“I forgot the honey, can you grab it?” Dean asked before Cas sat down.
Cas grabbed the honey and sat at the end of the table next to Dean who placed a pancake on a plate and pushed it across the wooden table to Cas. Cas drizzled the pancake with honey which melted slowly with of the heat of the pancake. Dean fills both of their glasses with juice, just a few millimeters below the rim to annoy Cas. But Cas was used to Dean's antics, so he smugly grabbed the glass and drank it in one gulp without spilling a drop on the table.
Keeping eye contact between them, Dean leaned down to his glass and slurped loudly until the juice level reduced enough for him to drink. Cas laughed and shook his head affectionately.
"You better not show that to Jack lest he imitates you," Cas warned.
“Too late,” Dean replied amusedly. “The kid is already corrupted.”
"Maybe Sam and Eileen will be able to teach him some manners then," Cas sighed.
“With Gabe around? No chance,” Dean replied proudly.
"I'm starting to think it was a bad idea to force you to become friends," Cas muttered, getting up to get coffee.
Dean laughed loudly, satisfied that Cas and Sam's conspiracies were backfiring on them. His friendship with Gabriel wasn't easy, not because he didn't trust him, but because they were just a little too different from each other. And they also liked to mess with each other a little too much. But over time, they had found enough in common to get along. In particular, the pleasure of annoying their respective little brothers.
Sitting back down, Cas grabbed Dean's hand across the table and gently stroked his knuckles, forcing Dean to switch hands when eating. But he didn't mind, Dean had taught himself to be ambidextrous early on, refusing to be caught in a situation where his dominant hand was immobilized. Of course, he would much rather use this ability to hold his husband's hand as often as possible.
“I wanted to stop by the library this morning to return the books I borrowed last week,” Cas said between bites. “Can I take the car?”
Cas looked up at Dean and batted his eyelashes at him, his blue eyes so bright that Dean doubted for a moment that all of Cas' grace had left him. It was unfair, really.
“You know what? I'll come with you,” Dean offered.
“Are you sure?” Cas asked. “Who will tend to the bar?”
“I'll send a message to Krissy to let her know. But I trust her, she can take care of the opening on her own”, Dean replied. “I want to spend the day with you.”
Dean had been busy at the bar the last few days with a trio of newbie hunters in need of help after a hunt gone wrong. One of them, Deirdre, a redhead with a thick Irish accent, was injured and Dean had left her to rest in one of the rooms above the bar while he trained her friends, Marc and Alicia. Cas had looked after and watched over Deirdre while researching the monster they were hunting. More than the medical aid or the training, that was what the three had been grateful for.
That's why he opened his bar, to help the new generation of hunters. Kind of like Bobby and Ellen did once.
Dean was happy to help when he could. It made him feel less guilty about retiring. He still helped, what he did was still important, but he no longer risked his life every day. Instead he spent time with his family and lived . And one day, he would pass the torch of the bar to someone else. Someone like Krissy or Claire.
And that would be good too.
Still, he hadn't spent much time with Cas recently and with the rest of their family arriving later in the day for the long weekend, he didn't know when he would get the opportunity again. So if he had to spend the day in the library while Cas checked in on everyone in town, so be it.
"Great, I'll have time to take care of the bees before I leave then," Cas smiled, kissing Dean on the cheek before getting up to put his plate and dirty cup in the sink.
Dean finished his cup of coffee while Cas did the dishes, talking about the latest book Cas had read. Sometimes Cas read books Dean recommended, the ones he read in the back seat of the Impala when he was young, Sammy asleep on his lap. Sometimes it was the other way around, Cas would talk so passionately about a book that Dean would secretly borrow it from the library to read it in turn and discuss it with Cas.
(The librarian in town had taken to saving every book Cas borrowed for Dean just in case.)
The room smelled of apples, the scent of dishwashing liquid that Cas preferred. It had taken Cas a while to figure out how much dishwashing liquid to use to wash the dishes, but after many trials and errors, he had succeeded. But Dean would never forget the day he had walked into the Bunker's kitchen to see Cas completely submerged in soap bubbles, trying to stop the dishwasher.
Dean had laughed so hard that day. The Mark on his arm, the anger in his blood and the death in his soul were nothing compared to Cas's ethereal light. Even, and especially, when he was trying to get Dean to stop laughing to help him.
(“It isn’t funny, Dean. I almost drowned in soap.”)
Sometimes, Dean wondered how he had managed not to realize that he was in love with Cas. Sammy should have stopped him from hunting for being so blind.
“I'm going to go take a shower,” Dean announced, placing his empty coffee cup on the counter. When Cas gave him a pointed look, he added with a flirtatious smile. “And I promise, I'll wash my cup.”
Dean kissed Cas on the forehead, letting his lips linger for a few seconds and his eyes close. Cas leaned towards him and Dean let his forehead rest against Cas's, a feeling of peace taking over him.
“I love you,” Cas breathed, making Dean shiver.
Dean let his actions speak for him since he was always terrible with his words and kissed Cas. Cas' lips tasted like honey and pancakes. Beneath his t-shirt, the necklace containing Cas' grace pulsed in time with his heart.
Dean smiled against Cas's lips. “I love you too. I always did.”
Cas prolonged their kiss for a few seconds before pushing Dean gently. Dean pouted.
“Go take a shower,” Cas smiled. “I want to get to the library before the crowds of high school students who think last-minute revision will save them.”
“Aren't you supposed to be merciful?” Dean grinned back.
“Go take a shower!” Cas insisted, still amused, barely hiding the laughter in his voice.
“Okay, okay, I'm going,” Dean gave in. “You could have told me right away that I stink.”
Dean finally left the room, trying to keep Cas' hand in his as long as possible. Arriving in their room, Dean couldn't help but lie down again in the sparkling white sheets. It was the first time in his life that Dean had such a comfortable mattress, he felt like he was falling asleep on a cloud every time he lay down. He scrolled through his phone for a while, watching all the stupid videos Cas had sent him and replying to a few messages.
But when he looked at the time again, forty minutes had already passed. Dean jumped in the shower and hurried, not wanting to keep Cas waiting too long. He discovered when he opened the wardrobe that Claire had stolen more t-shirts from him. Claire was a grown woman, with a wife and enough fake credit cards to buy all the clothes she wanted but somehow, every time she and Kaia visited, his clothes disappeared.
Dean pulled a random t-shirt over his head and ran down the stairs to join Cas. He stopped just long enough to grab his jacket, shoes, and car keys from the driveway and walked out into the yard. The grass was cool and cut under his feet and Dean realized he had forgotten to wear socks. He was going to have to go back and get some.
Dean walked around the yard, looking for Cas. Cas had mentioned wanting to take care of the bees earlier and even if he hadn't said anything, that would have been where Dean would have looked first. Cas loved his bees, lying in the grass and watching them forage.
Dean approached the hives carefully, not wanting to scare the bees and get stung. There, Cas was smoking out the hives in his beekeeper outfit, apologizing to the bees. Dean stopped and watched him, a loving smile on his lips. But Cas must have felt him coming and he turned towards him. Cas waved in a way that was so Jack-like, his outfit slightly too baggy on him. Cas removed his protective veil and smiled at Dean.
“I'll be there in a few minutes, I'll be finished soon,” Cas promised.
“Take your time, sunshine,” replied Dean.” I'll wait for you in the car.”
Cas already couldn't hear him anymore, too fascinated by the bees that fearlessly approached him and flew around him. Cas slowly raised his arm and the bees moved with him. Cas had once told him that bees danced to communicate, Dean sometimes wondered if Cas didn't do the same thing with them.
More calmly now that he knew Cas wasn't waiting for him, Dean went back to their room and grabbed some socks. He also grabbed the shopping list from the fridge and the books Cas needed to return to the library before going to wait in the car.
The Impala had changed too. There was no longer an arsenal of weapons in the trunk to begin with or at least just the bare necessities if trouble found them. (Dean had shed a small tear as he put the grenade launcher back into the Bunker; he never got to use it as much as he wanted.) Instead, there were the flower pots that Cas had bought last weekend and none of them thought about taking it out of the trunk. There was a blanket and children's novels in the back for Jack and matching sunglasses in the glove compartment. The sticker-covered water bottle Cas had bought to force Dean to drink more water was still in the passenger seat.
Just sitting in that car always brought back memories, both good and bad. The feel of leather under his hands, the vibrations of the engine on the open road, the left rear window that no longer opened. Dean had lived in hundreds of motels, in their house in Lawrence, at Bobby's in Sioux Falls, in the Bunker, at Lisa's for a year, in Rufus' cabin lost in the middle of the forest and now in his home with Cas.
But the Impala had always been a constant in his life.
(The initials engraved in the rear window bridge, the concert tickets in the glove compartment, the Legos stuck in the fan, the chargers that Sam always left lying around proved it.)
Cas joined him a few minutes later and tried to steal Dean's phone to play his music but Dean got it back at the last moment.“Ah ah! You know the rules Cas–”
Dean left his sentence hanging as he connected his phone to the speaker Sammy had given him for Christmas. Cas rolled his eyes but finished Dean's sentence nonetheless. “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”
“Exactly!” Dean exclaimed as the first notes of Back in Black filled the car. “You’re so clever.”
Dean kissed Cas on the cheek and bobbed his head to the music, smirking. He placed his hand on Cas' headrest and looked behind him to reverse, singing at the top of his lungs. By the time the chorus started, the car was already on the road, the windows open and the wind beating against their faces. The landscapes were familiar to them, having traveled this route almost daily for years. Dean let his left hand rest on Cas' thigh when he wasn't shifting gears and Cas linked his fingers with his.
Dean pulled into the bar's parking lot, unscrupulously taking advantage of his reserved spot. A sort of pride came over him every time he saw the words “Dean & Castiel Winchester - OWNERS” engraved on the metal sign. And today, a very special car was parked next to his parking space. Claire's Red Subaru.
Dean had offered Claire many times to buy her a new car but Claire had always refused. She had inherited that from him. Too bad she didn't inherit his taste in cars too. Dean was tempted to disinherit her for driving a car like that.
“Claire’s here!” Cas remarked happily.
“Probably drinking our reserves dry,” Dean added, squeezing the handbrake. “Let's go say hello to her before going to the library.”
Dean got out of the car and locked it before following Castiel into the bar. He pushed open the swinging doors, the sun at his back as he entered.
“Hello everyone!” Dean exclaimed with a big smile, enjoying the painful moans of last night's drunks. “Did you miss me?”
“The sun is burning my eyes,” Marc grunted, hiding his head in his arms.
“It’s Dean who’s burning my eyes,” Deirdre muttered, making her friends laugh.
“After everything I've done for you Deirdre? You’re wounding me,” Dean said falsely. “But don't worry, I'm feeling generous today, I'll let this pass.”
“Thanks Dean,” Deirdre replied sarcastically. “You shouldn't have.”
"In fact, I'll even fix you something for your hangover," Dean continued, smiling to himself.
Cas shook his head disillusioned, but let him, preferring to join Claire who was chatting with acquaintances of hers, discussing their latest hunts. Since he and Sammy had retired, it was Claire who had established herself on the hunting scene, becoming something of a legend for the new generation. Dean knew he was leaving the newbies in good, if not slightly sadistic, hands.
“And there's my favorite hunter,” Dean said when Claire came to greet him a few minutes later.
“You kind of have to say that,” Claire replied amusedly, joining him behind the bar. “I’m your kid.”
“Whether you're my daughter or not doesn't change the fact that you're a damn good hunter,” Dean insisted, kissing Claire on the forehead.
Dean stared at Claire intently until she nodded. It was important to Dean that Claire knew how proud he was of the work she had done.
“Thanks Dad,” Claire muttered, blushing.
“No problem, sweetheart,” Dean replied. “Now come help me prepare something for the baby hunters.”
Claire had worked at the bar a few summers when she got tired of ripping off drunks at pool for money and knew where everything was. Including the secret stash of alcohol that Dean kept moving around. Dean suspected Cas of spilling the beans.
“Is this really going to work?” Claire asked, observing the bubbling green mixture as if it were about to come to life.
"Of course not," Cas replied as Dean added raw eggs to the top of the glasses as decoration. “Do you really think Dean would have spent so much time throwing up in the morning if he had a hangover cure?”
"But I had my own cure," Dean added with a flirtatious wink in Cas's direction.
"Glad to know you considered me your personal hangover cure," Cas replied dryly.
“Caaas,” Dean complained, slumping on the bar that separated him from Cas. “You know I didn't mean it like that.”
“Oh, oh, Dean’s in trouble,” Claire laughed, hiding her giggles behind her hand.
"I love you too much for that," Dean whispered in Cas' ear before kissing the back of his hand, looking intently into his eyes.
Claire let out a disgusted groan and Cas's eyes flashed a little more with amusement. “No ! Absolutely not. I'm leaving before you get even more disgusting.”
Claire put a colored straw in each glass and put them on a tray before taking them to Deirdre, Marc and Alicia. She wouldn't have walked any faster if she was chasing a vampire.
“We love you too, Claire-bear”! Dean called from behind her.
“I don’t!” Claire replied without turning around.
Amused, Cas kissed Dean on the cheek and Dean preened under the attention. Claire was right, they were disgustingly in love.
“Can we go to the library or do you want to stay a little longer?” Cas asked, tracing Dean's hand lines with his finger.
“We can go now,” Dean replied, coming out from behind the bar. “Just let me get your books from the car.”
“Is this how you flirted in high school?” Cas asked, following Dean. “By carrying pretty girls' books.”
“I would have charmed the fuck out of you if we had met when I was in high school," Dean replied defiantly. "You would have been unable to resist me.”
“You've already charmed the fuck out of me,” Cas said tenderly, placing his hand on Dean's cheek. And to be honest, Dean still didn't know how he managed to accomplish such a miracle.
(Maybe Cas was attracted to idiots.)
“And it only took you ten years to realize you were doing it,” Cas finished with a smirk.
But this, this kind of humor, was why Dean had fallen in love with Cas. When Cas let out the part of humanity he had always possessed. Cas's angelic grace had fascinated (intrigued and frightened) him from the day Dean had stabbed Cas during their first meeting, but it was Cas's humanity that Dean had fallen in love with. Castiel was perfect, powerful and eternal and he chose to give up his divinity for him.
Cas had become human for Dean .
"You're lucky you're cute," Dean retorted, grabbing Cas's books from the car.
Cas and Dean headed towards the library, Dean waiting (more or less) patiently each time Cas greeted one of his acquaintances on the street. Arriving at the library, Cas opened the door for Dean, ringing the small bell that hung above. The librarian, alerted by the noise, raised her head and smiled when she saw them.
“My two favorite customers,” she greeted them. “Did you like the books Mr Winchester?”
“It was very entertaining,” Cas replied.” You must give me other recommendations.”
“Why?” Dean asked, placing the books on the counter. “Don't you like my recommendations, sunshine?”
"I can't read The Lord of the Rings over and over again," Cas retorted.
“You could if you had the will, at least for Aragorn,” Dean shrugged.
The first movies Dean had watched with Cas had been the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Cas had confiscated the remote when Dean kept putting the film on pause to tell him anecdotes. (“Did you know that Viggo Mortensen broke his toe kicking the helmet?” ) Dean fell asleep at the start of the third movie on Cas' shoulder and Cas covered him with a blanket and let him sleep all night, long after the movie was over.
Dean had made them rewatch the third movie the next day, and this time Cas had let him tell as many anecdotes as he wanted. (“Did you know that Viggo Mortensen kissed Billy Boyd behind the camera to lighten the mood when Sean Astin was feeling bad about kissing anyone other than his wife? ”)
(Dean didn't realize it until years later, but Cas spent the entire movie watching him .)
“I don't need Aragorn when I have you”, Cas said, making Dean shut up, too stunned to come up with a witty response. “ I'm going to take a look at the shelves.”
When Cas returned fifteen minutes later, he had a stack of books balanced precariously in his arms almost as tall as he was. Neither Dean nor the librarian blinked, accustomed to the spectacle.
“We talked about it, Cas, you have to leave books for the other kids,” Dean sighed falsely.
“It’s okay,” reassured the librarian. “Nobody borrows books from the library these days.”
“And that is extremely unfortunate,” Cas said with a smile, making the librarian blush.
It had been a good choice to settle here, they knew the inhabitants, they had their habits there. There was a sense of community and normalcy that Dean had only ever seen from the outside. But now he was paying taxes, attending town events, and going to parent-teacher conferences at Jack's school.
Dean finally had the apple pie life he had never allowed himself to dream of.
Sure, he'd talked about it a few times with Sam and Cas, retiring, driving the Impala to the nearest beach and doing nothing . But each time a new Big Bad, stronger, crueler and more dangerous than the last, arrived and threatened to destroy everyone they loved. And each time, it was up to them to save the world.
But not anymore. They were free. Free from Chuck.
And nothing would piss Chuck off more than seeing his precious puppets live a normal, boring life.