Twist and Shout [not mine]

Chapter 3

June, 1966

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There was something missing when Cas woke up, the warmth beside him gone, the bed cool beneath his touch. Music was pouring down the hallway into the open door of the bedroom, and Cas sleepily rubbed at his eyes, sitting up in bed and slipping his fingers through his hair with a yawn. Dean wasn't in bed with him, but he was still in the apartment. For a moment Cas thought it was Saturday and Dean had gone out to the track for the practice runs, but it was Sunday.

Faintly, he could hear Dean singing, a little louder than the music, and way off-key. Cas laughed to himself and hauled his stiff body out of bed, stretching his arms above his head and twisting his back, working out the stiffness of his joints and muscles. He opened the closet door and dug through the clothes hanging, coming back with a sweater and pulling it over his head; it nearly swallowed him whole, and he realized that it was one of Dean's. He hadn't even known that Dean owned a sweater. Hehe thought the only thing he owned that was any protection from the cold was his leather jacket.

He wandered out of the room and into the kitchen where Dean was, hovering over the stove, moving something around in a pan with a spatula. And then the smell hit Cas, and he moved over to where Dean was, arms snaking around his waist as he rested his head onto his shoulder. Dean jumped slightly, and he stopped singing, the music more clear without Dean's voice rising above it.

"Did I wake you up?" Dean said as he pulled the bacon out of the pan and set it onto the waiting plate beside the stove, turning the burner off and turning around in Cas' arms.

Cas hummed softly and shook his head, pressing his face into the crook of Dean's neck. Dean laughed softly and brought his arms up, holding Cas against his chest.

"You've got a big day today," Cas mumbled against Dean's neck, lips brushing against his skin.

"You're gonna go, right?"

"Of course," Cas laughed softly, pulling back to look up at Dean. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Now, what's for breakfast?"

They ate at the table, Dean sitting across from Cas, shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth, and Cas looked on with a fond smile on his face. It had been about two weeks since he had moved in with Dean, and they had fallen into a routine with each other so easily. When Cas had classes, he woke up before Dean, showered and got ready, and kissed him before he headed out. On his days off, Dean woke up before Cas, letting him sleep in, and Dean normally cooked breakfast for the two of them.

And when Dean worked, Cas would stay up to wait for him to get home, busying himself with his homework or studying, and when Dean would get home, they'd have dinner together with a record playing in the background. It was a good routine. It worked.

Cas stretched his leg forward, the top of his foot grazing over Dean's leg, and Dean looked up at him, grinning.

"You're gonna do great today," Cas smiled as he picked up a piece of bacon to chew on.

"Thanks, babe," Dean laughed softly, finishing off his scrambled eggs. "But I always do great, don't I?"

"Don't be so smug."

He finished off his bacon and pushed his plate towards Dean, not too fond of eggs himself. . Dean gave him a questioning look, but Cas shrugged.

"You're gonna need it so you can blow all those other guys away."

"Don't like my cooking?"

Dean pulled the plate toward himself and began to eat the eggs, and Cas rolled his eyes, pushing away from the table and moving to the other side. He leaned over Dean and wrapped his arms around his neck, sleeves hanging over his hands past his fingers, and he pressed a kiss to Dean's cheek.