Uncle Cas

If happy ever after did exist

If happy ever after did exist

Little over half a month. That was how long Dean had been living with him and it felt like pure bliss. Castiel couldn't even remember why he had thought this would be a bad idea in the first place. Dean was... Dean was everything to him.

Mary had fussed and John had muttered but on the whole they seemed to be fine with the new living arrangements. Castiel and Dean still ate many of their dinners at the Winchesters' and John had been over with a fold-up bed after Mary had said she didn't want Dean sleeping on the couch for too long.

Because obviously that was what they had told them.

The fact that they shared Castiel's barely big enough bed and that Dean brought him to staggering heights with his eagerness almost every night was something they kept to themselves.

John knew though, at least that something was going on, Castiel had no doubt. And Sammy was looking at them too, though with much kinder eyes. It was his fault, Castiel knew, he had always been bad at hiding from the Winchester men.

This night John had invited him over to watch some game or other. Castiel wasn't particularly into sports but he had agreed anyway, glad to spend some time with his friend. Between work and Dean Castiel hardly had any free time, though he knew he wouldn't want it any other way. Not anymore.

This weekend, however, Dean was away on a school trip. Mary was working one of her rare 24-hour shifts at the hospital and Sammy was at soccer camp. Perfect time for John and Castiel to catch up and Castiel was glad to do so. He had been a little nervous that John would be bringing up Dean moving in with Castiel though, but he seemed to avoid that topic like the plague. It was odd but Castiel felt relieved anyway.

As the game progressed John got rowdier and when the pizza arrived, Castiel was the one to open the door, not wanting John to have to miss anything.

"Man." John sighed at yet another commercial break. "This is the life, belly full of pizza and beer."

Castiel arched an eyebrow at him and leaned back too. "And the Jack?" he asked, amusedly and John made a face at him, making Castiel laugh.

"Icing." He smirked and poured Castiel another shot. "To winning this game." He said and held up his glass in a salute.

Castiel smirked. "Down by half as much and ten minutes left? Even I know that's a loss." But he clinked his glass against John's anyway and they downed the burning liquor together.

Castiel was feeling pleasantly buzzed and content. His life was finally making him happy again and he knew Dean was the sole cause of that. Even Crowley had said he looked better, healthier. They still met, for coffee and stuff but Castiel had made it completely clear that that was it. Crowley had seemed okay with it and hadn't made any remarks aside from the one where he had looked hard at Castiel and told him he hoped it wasn't John. Castiel had said it wasn't and Crowley had seemed genuinely happy on his behalf so that had been the end of that. Castiel was glad. He wanted to shout out his love from the rooftops but figured it wasn't very smart. People knew them in Lawrence and many believed Castiel was Dean's uncle for real. It wouldn't be... prudent.

He smacked his lips and leaned back, still tasting the whisky. He hadn't had a real drink since Dean moved in, he realized. That was a good sign but also probably why he already felt so round under his feet.

John, however, was chugging down enough for the both of them.

As the evening turned into night and the game turned into a movie John actually grew quieter and when he'd been still for almost half an hour Castiel thought he'd fallen asleep.