hamburgergod

[AO3]

It's birthday week for Dean! ~5.4k

~~

Cas is being weird.

He makes them both a cup of hot chocolate one night like usual. When he brings it to Cas in his room, Cas freezes up with his phone in hand.

“Uh.” Dean blinks. “Everything alright?”

Cas stares at him wide-eyed, glances down at the mug of hot cocoa, back to Dean, and puts his phone on his desk with a resolute thump and the screen pointedly downward. “Yes.”

Okay.

“I would’ve knocked, but.” Dean holds up the drinks in hands.

“It’s fine.” Cas darts forward and takes the mug. He sips it there and then and smiles. “It’s great. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean hears the now leave me alone loud and clear. “Uh, okay.” Dean glances over Cas’s shoulder onto his desk. His notes are laid out but the cap on his pen is still on. “Keeping busy?”

“Yeah.” Cas smiles. “You too, I’m sure?”

“Sure,” Dean replies. He’d been kinda hoping they could hang out for a little bit and the hot chocolate his bribe. “Got a bunch of stuff to do, too.”

Cas nods. “Good luck.”

“You too,” Dean says. He can hear Cas’s phone buzzing away with incoming texts even as he walks back to his own room.

Dean sniffles and kicks back in his own bed with his laptop. Well, whatever. Dude’s gotta have some sort of social life aside from his weird family and Dean’s mutual friends, and it’s about time too. It’s good that he finally does. Even if it might mean Dean’s original plan to wind down at home with his best friend on a late Friday night has been abolished.

At least Dean’s made a cup of god damn delicious hot chocolate.

“Cas is hiding something,” Dean announces on Monday.

Charlie pauses flipping through her notes and turns around in her seat to face him. “I mean, it’s his life.”

Dean winces. “I know that,” he says slowly, “but it’s like he feels guilty about whatever it is, or something. He keeps shitting himself every time I walk into the room he’s in.”

Charlie smiles knowingly and Dean lets out a frustrated grunt. “Look, I’m just worried, alright? What if he’s dealing with something by himself and he’s not telling me about it?”

“Maybe you’re just overthinking it.”

“That’s what I thought at first too, but—”

But it’s been years since Dean’s known him, and he knows that look. It’s the same damn look every time, with his eyes wide enough for his blue iris to be showered with light and practically making them sparkle while the rest of his face grows comically stiff. It’s not a look one could miss easily once they know what they’re looking for.

“But what?”

It’s not like he can say that to Charlie. “But nothing,” he mutters. “Nevermind. Don’t worry about it.”

“O-kay,” Charlie says. “I know you like to act the worried spouse but he is an adult too, you know. He’s capable of handling himself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbles.

The professor enters the room and Charlie leans over before the actual lecture begins to ask, “Anything you wanna do for your birthday?”

Dean shrugs. “I figured maybe we could go for dinner after nerd club if people are free. I’ll invite Cas too, if that’s cool.”

Charlie smiles. “Sounds good.”

Charlie’s right, of course. Cas is an adult who can take care of himself now, harpy or not. It’s not like Dean’s his caretaker or anything. They’ve always been a little too attached to each other but—whatever.

Whatever.

Dean glances at the clock. Just past eleven o’clock.

Cas is still not home.

Weird.

Dean’s mind immediately jumps to the person Cas was texting a few days ago. Cas still hasn’t mentioned anything about them, so maybe they’re not friends enough for Cas to mention in the first place. A classmate, maybe? A textbook seller?

Anywho. None of that’s Dean’s business, so Dean doesn’t let the thought linger for too long. It’s not like he doesn’t have other things to be doing right now, anyway.

Hm.

Dean shoots a quick text to Cas and fiddles with his phone to occupy his mind. He goes on youtube and watches some cooking videos. He shivers and pulls a blanket over himself. The apartment’s a bit chilly.

Wouldn’t have been a problem if only someone was here.

It’s then that Dean realizes just how quiet and empty the apartment is. It’s not like this place is a mansion and it’s not like it’s usually bustling with activity around here, but the apartment practically feels abandoned without the one other person who should be here. He sniffles miserably and pulls the blanket around him a little harder than necessary and checks his phone. Na-da. He hates that his thoughts go to the worst scenarios when it comes to situations like this, and so he pushes those thoughts out of his head for the obviously more plausible explanations. Dude probably just accidentally turned his phone off again.

Dean sits on the couch for a few more minutes and dozes on and off. A few more minutes, and if he’s not back by then, then he’ll screw it and just go to bed.

Just then, he hears the unmistakable sound of the key unlocking the door and Dean is wide awake again. Cas quietly closes the door behind him with a click and his coat shuffles as he takes his shoes off.

Casually, casually. “Hey, Cas.”

Cas doesn’t jump—Dean’s gotta give him credit for that. “Dean. I thought you’d be in bed.” He clears his throat, even though it’s so obvious that he’s been scared shitless. “What are you doing here?”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Uh, I live here if you didn’t get the memo. And where’ve you been?” he asks, trying to not sound too much like a paranoid spouse.

“The library.”

“This late?

Cas nods. “Group project,” he says, and the epic eyeroll speaks for itself well enough that Dean doesn’t think to be suspicious about it.

“Oh, damn. Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah,” Cas replies, and he sounds exhausted. “None of them did their part so we were sorting it out until now.”

“Shit, man.” Dean turns around fully to face him, actually worried now. “Did you get something to eat?”

“Yes.” Cas flexes his shoulders with a groan and his wings flutter out from under his jacket. “Ugh.”

“Alright. Well.” Dean sniffles. The apartment already starts to feel warmer with Cas here and his nose thaws out. “Get some rest.”

Cas nods and drags his feet and wings back to his room, exhaustion practically rolling off him.

Well, that explains the furious texting the past few days, he supposes. Why’s the guy so jumpy over a group project, anyway?

Still. Finally happy with a plausible explanation, Dean focuses back on his notes.

“Dean?”

Dean turns around and blinks. “Layla?”

“It is you!” Layla laughs and comes in for a hug. “I didn’t know you went here.”

“I didn’t know you went here,” Dean replies with a grin.

“This is so weird.” Layla grins. “It’s been so long since I saw you.”

“Feels like forever ago, huh?”

They walk to the cafeteria together and catch up. It’s always cool to find someone else from his high school here even if she’s a friend’s friend and they’re not close enough to be more than acquaintances. It’s sort of nice to be reminded of home as long as he doesn’t have to go back to high school ever again.

“I’m glad college’s been different.” Layla laughs. “Even if we still have do group projects.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean says. “My roommate’s in the same course as you. I hope your group wasn’t as bad as his.”

Layla blinks. “My group?”

“Yeah,” Dean replies. “None of his group members did their work so they had to, like, cram everything in one night.”

Layla frowns. “This course doesn’t have a group project.”

Dean pauses. “Huh?”

“Are you sure it’s the same course?” She looks up the course curriculum on her phone and scans it quickly. “None as far as I see it.”

Dean frowns because yeah, he’s sure. He remembers seeing the course title and number written on Cas’s binder with a sharpie and everything. “Huh.”

Huh.

“Dean?”

Dean shakes himself out of it. “I probably got it wrong, then.”

Layla laughs. “You scared me! I thought I missed an assignment already or something.”

Dean smiles along and they move on from that conversation easily, exchanging some more small talks before going separate ways. Dean walks to the bus stops.

So, Cas lied about where he was. Sure, it’s not like Cas hasn’t lied to Dean before but it was things like oh, he wasn’t the one who finished the box of Dean’s favourite cereal, or he wasn’t the one to not turn off the living room’s lights off, or he wasn’t the one to—

Why?

More like, why does Dean care? He’s Cas’s roommate. Why does it matter? Why does it bum him out so much?

They’re friends. What does he have to be so secretive about that he can’t tell Dean about it? Normally he’d be sure that Cas would tell him if he asked but who’s to say that Cas might lie about that to cover up his first lie? Friends don’t have to share everything with each other—he understands that, logically—but Dean shares everything with him. He thought it was the same for Cas.

Apparently not.

Like Charlie said, it’s his damn life. He’s an adult. Dean’s sure he can take care of himself. Life happens. Things move on. Maybe Cas is just… moving on from him as one of his closer friend and onto other people.

And that’s a good thing. That’s a healthy good thing that Cas has got going on. He’s just not sure why he feels so shitty about it.

Dean only realizes he’s missed his stop after the bus starts driving again and miserably walks back home.

Cas seems… busy this week.

He’s not doing much of anything as far as Dean can tell but Cas still seems like he’s always busy this week. He can’t come home in time for dinner because he’s doing this, or he can’t sit down to watch an episode of a show they’re watching together because he’s doing that, and so on and so forth.

Whatever. Dean’s got other friends he can hang out with. Just because Cas is busy doesn’t mean he can’t occupy himself with doing other things. Dean’s also busy doing his own shit.

Whatever.

A whole week passes by and it’s a Tuesday night when Cas stands in front of him sitting in the sofa with a, “Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean says as nonchalantly as possible, his body betraying him all the while by sitting up straighter and giving him his full attention away from the TV. Damn it, it’s not like he’s that desperate for Cas’s attention. He’s a grown-ass man with grown-ass responsibilities and having one friend not pay attention to him for one week shouldn’t get to him like this so much. “What’s up?”

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

Hope rises to his throat, so much that he almost chokes on it. “Nope. Why? Did you want to do something?”

Cas shakes his head slightly and Dean’s hope dials down instantly.

“What about Thursday?” Cas continues and another new hope that maybe Cas is asking to hang out with him on his birthday rises slightly. “When will you be home?”

“You know I got nerd club on Thursdays. Speaking of.” Dean rubs his fingers together. “My birthday’s on Thursday and me and a couple of us are going out for dinner. Do you want to come?”

“Oh. I, uh.” Cas clears his throat. “No, I can’t. I’m sorry, Dean.”

And what little hope he had left sinks down to the soles of his feet, so much that he could stomp them out completely right there and then. “It’s cool. What are you doing anyway?”

Cas’s eyes darts away with guilt, with guilt, like he’s doing something he’s not supposed to be doing. “I was just wondering whether you’ll be going or not, that’s all.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “Then why did you ask me about tomorrow and Thursday?”

“I. Uh.” And Cas has that look again, like he’s physically trying to keep himself from talking too much about something

“Cas.” Dean doesn’t shift from his seat but he feels like he’s on the edge of it. “You know I’m here for you if you want to talk about anything.”

The look melts away to be replaced by a soft smile. “I know that.”

“So what’s up?” Dean asks and Cas tenses up again. “Do you need me to do something?”

Cas shakes his head.

“Cas, what’s going on?”

Cas has that wide-eyed look again. “What?”

“Why do you need the house empty on Thursday?” You know it’s my birthday, right? “Do you have a new friend? Have you met someone?”

“What?” Cas blinks.

“I just—noticed that you’ve been texting a lot lately.” This is really none of his business. If Cas doesn’t want to share with him, this isn’t something he should pry open. His mouth doesn’t stop talking. “I figured, maybe that’s why you don’t want me home so you can have some time alone with them.” He doesn’t even know what he’s implying here but whatever it is, he wants to stop talking now.

“No, of course not.”

“Dude, I can tell you’re lying.”

“What?” Cas says again. “I’m not lying.”

God. “You’re a horrible liar.”

“I’m not,” Cas says again, this time with an epic frown.

“You are,” Dean argues. “You have that exact look on your face every time you lie.” Then it clicks. Why it bugs him so much, why it sours his stomach every time Cas tiptoes around the subject. “Cas, it’s fine if you want to have someone over or something,” Dean says. “You don’t have to lie about it to me. This is your home, too.”

Something about the way Cas looks at him shifts a little. A calm change slips over Cas’s flustered look he was wearing and it’s such a slight yet significant change that it takes Dean off guard enough for him to finally clam up and whatever words he was about to spout out, gone.

“I know,” Cas says softly. It’s tender, the way Cas hushes out his words only for Dean to hear. “I understand, but I’m really not lying about that, Dean.”

Dean squints and observes Cas’s sudden change in behaviour but he can’t find any of the demeanour from before. Dean shrugs. “Okay.”

“I do need you out of the house for few hours on Thursday,” Cas says, and Dean perks up again.

“Why?” Dean asks out of knee-jerk reaction and clears his throat. “Nevermind. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He scratches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he adds, feeling really sheepish all of a sudden. Damn it.

“It’s okay,” Cas replies with a shrug of his own. “The truth is, I’ll be molting.”

Dean blinks.

Cas looks at him. Dean looks back.

“Huh?”

“It’s, ah, harpy stuff.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean replies. “Molting?”

“Yeah.” Cas grimaces. “It’s not as bad as if I was fully harpy, but my wings still need to molt at least once per year. It can get rather grotesque. The process can be…” Cas clears his throat. “Jarring. You remember when you first found out about me?”

Dean remembers. Room full of black feathers and Cas’s naked back.

“Ohhhh.”

Cas nods. “Seeing that I need more... space when I molt, I wanted to do it in the living room so I wanted to know when you’d be home.”

“You wouldn’t be bothering me or anything,” Dean says quickly.

An amused quirk settles on Cas’s lips. “It’s akin to taking a bath and I doubt you’d want to be around for that.”

“No.” Dean feels a blush creep his way up to his hairline and he feels like the absolute idiot that he is. “No, ‘course not.”

“Okay.”

“Uh… I can be out of the house tomorrow too, if you need me to be.”

“It’s alright, Dean. Thursday works better for me.”

Dean pats down the disappointment. It would’ve been nice to have Cas with him on his birthday. “How much time do you need?”

Cas shrugs. “I’m sure I’ll be done by the time you’re back.”

“Uh, okay. Well, if you do need more time, just uh, let me know.”

Cas smiles, all sincere and soft. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Hey, any time.” Dean shrugs for the sake of it.

Well. Dean feels stupid. Of course it’s harpy stuff. It’s always harpy stuff whenever Cas acts weird. Instead, he thinks about the group project. If Cas wasn’t at a group project, where was he?

Dean internally shakes his head at himself. He’s pried enough. Probably meeting up with his relatives for molting tips or something harpy-related again.

Either way, it’s none of his business.

On Thursday, Dean wakes up thinking the house is on fire.

He runs out to the kitchen with his blanket still wrapped around him—oh god he’s sure he checked the stove before he went to bed last night—and his heartbeat only slows down when he sees Cas already standing in front of the stove.

Until he notices the pile of pancakes on the counter.

“Oh,” Cas says. “Good morning, Dean.”

Now that Dean’s not running for his life, he smells the sweetness within the burnt smell of burning. “What are you…”

Cas flips the pancake expertly—nice and brown on the one side that’s now flipped up. “I heard from Sam that you usually have chocolate chip pancakes for your birthday. I burned a few but I think I have the hang of it now.”

“Oh.” Dean blinks. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Cas stops mid-motion and gives him a pointed look.

Huh.

So Dean digs into the pancakes albeit still a bit bemused that this is all happening, and Cas is right there with him, smiling and eating chocolate chip pancakes with a dollop of syrup and it’s just… yeah. It’s nice.

Later, Dean checks his phone and smiles at all the messages he’s gotten. He calls mom and talks with her briefly before she hands the phone over to Sam, who happily greets him back.

“By the way, shithead,” Dean says, and Sam makes an offended noise, “thanks, for the heads-up about telling Cas about the pancakes.”

Sam chokes out a laugh. “He really made you pancakes?”

“Dude, I thought he was burning the place down and everything.”

There’s a knock on the door and Cas is right there, a bag already slung over his bag. “Dean,” he says, and how many times has Dean explained about talking to people when they’re on the phone, “I’m leaving now, but don’t forget about tonight.”

“What?”

Cas then makes a hilarious motion of brushing his hand up and down his arms almost like he’s dusting himself off.

“Oh, yeah. I know, dude.”

Cas nods and leaves without further words before Dean can get another word in.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice says. “Hello?”

“Huh? Yeah. What?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean stares at where Cas was just standing. The smell of pancakes still lingers in the house.

Is he disappointed that he can’t spend his birthday with Cas? Yeah. But he also knows how much Cas hates waking up in the morning and yet he still found a way to work around it just to cook his dumb roommate some birthday pancakes. Just the fact that he put that much effort into this means… everything.

And there’s always Cas’s birthday (he’s gotta ask about that later) that they can spend together, and there’s always next year for birthdays. That’s how birthdays work so it’s not like he won’t have another chance to spend his birthday with Cas ever again.

Dean shakes himself out of that train of thought. He’s gotta get going with the rest of the day. “Anyway, catch ya later, smellyass.”

“Happy birthday, dick.”

Dean is whistling by the time he’s standing in front of the club door. It’s kinda weird that nobody else is here at this time—usually they’d all stand here briefly catching up until Charlie shows up with the keys.

And show up she does, with no keys nor people. “There you are,” she pants, her hair a wild flurry. “Answer your texts for once.”

“What?” Dean checks his phone to find Charlie’s many sent messages about where he was at. “What’s happening?”

“Jesse and Cesar both came down with the flu,” Charlie says as she leads Dean away from the door. “Jo’s working so she couldn’t come tonight anyway and Ash forgot there’s a project due so he’s working on that.”

“Oh. What about Victor?”

“I told him not to come since I figured we wouldn’t do much of anything with just us three.”

Dean quells down his disappointment. He knows it’s all a coincidence that just happened to overlap but he’s been looking forward to tonight of all nights. It’s hard to fight against that feeling being destroyed. “Guess I’m heading home too, then.”

“Can I come?” Charlie asks. “The heater at my place broke again.”

“Let me check with Cas first,” Dean says already taking his phone out. “He’s got a thing going on, so.”

“Sure.”

Dean sends a quick text explaining the situation to Cas and they start walking out of the campus. “Wanna grab dinner with me if he says no?”

“Sure. If he says no, I’ll buy you a birthday drink.”

Dean whistles. “Don’t overdo yourself.”

“I never said you could get more than one!”

Dean laughs just as his phone pings, Cas’s reply saying that he’s all done with molting already and has cleaned up. Damn, that didn’t take very long, huh?

Heading back now, Dean types and tucks the phone away. Sure it’s not exactly celebrating with the rest of the group, but he’ll have Cas and Charlie. That’s loads better than nothing.

They pick up a box of pizza for dinner on their way back and Dean makes Charlie hold it while he unlocks the door. He walks in, noticing for a fraction of a second that there aren’t any lights on—

Confetti cannons go off from all sides.

Jesse and Cesar and Jo and Ash jump out from behind his couch yelling happy birthday Dean and there are streamers and balloons all over the apartment painstakingly decorated and—

Cas walks out from between Jo and Ash with a huge grin and a wobbly looking birthday cake that’s definitely homemade with icing on top that reads Happy Birthday Dean!, candles lit up and ready to be wished upon.

Dean stands there, covered in confetti, speechless.

Someone—pretty sure Charlie—hooks an arm behind his shoulder and they all link arms save for Cas holding the cake, and they start swaying back and forth. “Happy birthday to you—”

Oh, no. Oh, god. Dean can’t even hide the fact that he’s tearing up with his arms hooked behind them like this. He laughs with disbelief and ducks his head with his eyes squeezed shut, unable to say anything with his throat closing up.

“Aw, are you crying Winchester?” Jo laughs and ruffles his hair, making confetti rain. Dean laughs and swats her hand away. “Don’t cry! Don’t cry!” they chant and Dean laughs some more as he quickly wipes his tears away, these dicks.

Cas beams in front of him, candlelight dancing in his eyes. “I believe it’s customary to make a wish.” He holds the cake up.

Dean nods and squeezes his eyes shut. He blows all the candles in one go as they all cheer and someone turns the lights back on. There’s a table of finger foods in their living room with a place in the middle for cake and pizza, and everybody settles down and grabs a piece while they wait for Charlie and Jesse to set up the game of the night.

“I would’ve cooked something else,” Cas says as he joins Dean on the couch, their shoulders knocking against each other, “but I didn’t want to push my luck after the cake and pancakes this morning.”

Dean stares down at his piece of cake. “You baked this?”

Cas shrugs but pure pride still shines through his smile. “Jesse and Cesar helped immensely. They kept it in their fridge for me.”

“Dude, when did you guys plan all this?”

“Our group project.” Cas pauses and leans closer to Dean, so Dean follows. He whispers, “I lied about molting.”

Dean leans back and gapes while this fucker smirks, all proud of himself, and the sight suddenly fills Dean up to the brim with so much love that he can’t even stay mad at Cas about it. Another thing that dawns on him quietly at the back of his mind is just how much work he’s seen Cas put into arranging everything. All that work and it was all for Dean.

He means as much to him as he does to him.

Overwhelmed, Dean buries his face into Cas’s shoulder, not caring who sees him or what they’ll say after. Right now, all he wants to focus on is the way Cas softly lets out a, “Dean?” and bury his face further into Cas’s warmth. He knows it’s so damn selfish of him for being so relieved at finding out that Cas finds him as important and significant as Dean does with him, but he doesn’t let the guilt stop his relief from taking over the rest of his body.

Thank God.

Cas lends him his shoulder for as long as Dean needs it, and they stay that way while the rest of the party gets along without them.

“Thanks,” Dean murmurs into Cas’s shoulder. He feels an urge to lay a kiss there but he doesn’t. “Thanks, Cas. This is the best.”

Cas beams and Dean resists going right back to burying his face into Cas’s warmth, opting to smile back instead. Everyone else at the party is conversing among themselves and giving them no attention, or so it seems. Dean’s sure he’ll get an earful about it from Charlie later but right now he’s too happy to care.

They play a few rounds of Munchkin. Everybody backstabs everyone to not let anyone else win and Victor pulls one under everyone by coming out on top in the end while Cas and Charlie are too busy competing against each other for the win. It’s fun, it’s great, and if he’s ever had to pick a moment to relive over and over again for the rest of his life, he’s pretty sure this night is one of them.

Let me keep them, he repeats his birthday wish. He doesn’t believe in magic or anything but at this moment where he’s so full of love for everyone here, it feels like anything could be possible. Let me keep this.

It’s still a Thursday night and everyone present at the party occasionally try to be responsible students so they all take off around eleven after helping Dean and Cas clean the place up, leaving Dean with many, many hugs. When he locks up and turns away from the door, Cas is standing there in front of him holding a pizza box with leftover pizza and a smile, his wings draped behind him all loose and relaxed.

“Should I wrap these up?” he asks before Dean stomps over. “Oh,” he says, and he puts the pizza box to the side as Dean wordlessly opens his arms, and Dean embraces him.

Dean pours everything he has into the hug. He buries his face into Cas’s neck with his eyes squeezed shut and his body rises with a breath, slumping against Cas as he breathes out. There are arms looping around Dean’s waist and Dean wants to melt into Cas until they’re conjoined like this forever.

Which is a pretty nice abstract sentiment but also kind of a weird thought to have when put into actual words and Dean sheepishly lets go of Cas. Cas doesn’t seem to mind though, so that’s a win. If anything, Cas looks pretty happy for the hug himself, his face glowing with the smile he wears. Dean smiles, too. He loves him.

“Tonight was…” Dean searches for a word. He shakes his head, half in disbelief that tonight happened at all and half disbelief that this happened to him because Cas wanted him to have it. “Perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday.”

Cas smiles and nods.

“And… And you…” Dean reaches over and squeezes Cas’s shoulder. “You’re so important to me.”

Cas’s smile widens into a grin.

“And I love you.”

Everything pauses for a split second.

Cas is the first to unfreeze. “What?”

“What?”

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Of course I love you, man.”

Cas blinks. He cocks his head with an inquisitive frown, then it becomes a hesitant smile. “I… love you too.”

“Okay.”

“Alright,” Dean says with a grin and gives him one last reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Anyway, I got a morning class tomorrow so I’m hitting the hay. Great party, man.”

Cas’s smile becomes more certain. He nods. “Good night. Happy birthday, again.”

“Thanks. Night, Cas.”

And that’s it.

Cas moves on with his pizza box to the kitchen to put their leftovers away and Dean stands in place, his heart beating unusually fast after that tidbit. There’s still a sort of anticipation in the air that leaves a small tickle inside Dean’s chest.

Dean thinks about it. There’s more to this, he knows. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen where Cas is effortlessly using the plastic wrap to wrap up some slices of pizza. He remembers when Cas first came across plastic wrap specifically and how unimpressed with it he was when it kept folding and sticking unto itself. Cas’s eyes are downcast and his eyelashes move up and down with each blink he takes, his long fingers gracefully and expertly wrapping pizzas with it now. He looks up to Dean and offers a small smile. “I thought you were heading to bed.”

He hears himself more clearly this time in his head. He thinks he understands why Cas was confused when he said it before. For some reason, he doesn’t say it out loud this time. I love you, he thinks.

Dean leans off the kitchen doorway and walks closer to Cas. He doesn’t know where this courage to accept this is coming from but it’s strong enough to cover up any fears he might have and the next thing he knows, he’s standing right there in front of him. His blue eyes reflect their white kitchen light and he’s beautiful. It dawns on him as quietly as a sunrise breaking through the midst of the night with all these unnamed feelings suddenly summarized into one word. It dawns on him that he’s realized that he’s really, truly in love with Cas while he stood here and watched him wrap cold leftover pizza. Typical.

“Dean?”

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah.” Just wanted to see you again. “You sure you don’t need help with anything?”

Cas rolls his eyes good-naturedly with a smile. “You ask after I’m done.”

“Hey, it’s my birthday. Give me some credit here.”

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean grabs a cup of water for the sake of doing something while Cas finishes up in the kitchen, and they both retire to their rooms after a quiet good night exchanged. In the privacy of his room, Dean nods to himself with a smile.

Though it seems like he’s come across some big revelation, the truth is that not much has changed; he’s known for a while, he thinks. Just that he’s only put into words on what's been happening in his head all this time, is all. Explains a whole lot about some things in the past few years, too. He really supposes most people don’t dream about kissing their roommates in a completely non-platonic way and shit, it’s totally on him for not figuring that part out sooner, huh? Ha, yeah. He’s an idiot.

He loves him.