Cas wakes up alone, which is a rare enough occurrence that he can’t fall back asleep. Since moving in with Dean, he’s woken up with his nose pressed against Dean’s hair, the faint smell of lavender shampoo lulling him back to sleep until the demands of his bladder are too great to ignore. Now he’s alone, the lavender smell gone, and the other side of the bed not only empty but cold.
Unacceptable.
Grumpy, Cas pushes out of bed. He’s going to find his husband, kick his ass, and drag him back to bed. They have the day off and no plans other than to lounge around the house, how dare Dean try to sneak off on his own?
He’s already thought up a dozen possible punishments for Dean when he stumbles into the kitchen.
And there Dean is, humming to himself as he flips pancakes. He’s still in his sleep clothes—a faded shirt with a skull pattern along the bottom (a gift from their niece and one that Dean’s worn every night ever since) and his “matching” Christmas boxers (“They’re both holidays! They match!” “Conflicting holidays, Dean.”)—but with an apron tied smartly around his waist with a big bow. He’s absolutely adorable, completely at home in this domestic scene in a way that would be laughable to their younger selves.
How many times did Dean say he didn’t do commitment? That Cas would never get a ring on his finger?
Cas smiles slightly at the memory of Dean bashfully proposing. It’d been in this very kitchen, over a dinner that Dean had made from scratch. He’s never stopped teasing Dean about it, though he knows Dean has no regrets.
“Morning sunshine.” Dean’s smile is wide and his eyes bright; any remaining anger at waking up alone is long gone. It’s hard to be angry in the wake of such obvious happiness. “Made some breakfast. Was gonna serve it to you in bed, but I guess I missed my chance for that.”
“You did.” He might not be cranky anymore, but Cas makes a show of crossing his arms and huffing in annoyance.
“Aww don’t be such a sour puss.” Dean winks and then waves him over. “C’mon, I made your favorite.”
“… Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes?” Cas takes a cautious step forward.
“Yep. Your choice of honey or syrup—”
“Both.” Cas takes his usual seat and licks his lips as Dean pours generous amounts of both honey and maple syrup on both their pancakes.
“Am I forgiven for you waking up alone yet?” Dean asks as he adds a dash of powdered sugar.
“No.” He cuts into his pancakes and takes a huge bite. “Fuck,” he moans. “Yes. Forgiven. Completely. Never be in bed when I wake up. You are required to make me breakfast every morning.”
Dean laughs and leans in to kiss his cheek before digging in to his own shortstack. “Well,” Dean says with a wink, “so long as you don’t mind poptarts, we might be able to arrange that.”
To neither’s surprise, they immediately end up back in bed after breakfast and do not leave until lunch time.
😔💀👋🙂💕 destiel please
Published
Chriss’ Home of Gifs, Squee, and Fandom Issues 