The Hand He Had Been Dealt | Destiel

Dinner

This is what happens when I have two hours of writer's block XD

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean had to admit that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing when it came to preparing dinner for the three of them. He pulled out the ham for the billionth time, checking the temperature feverishly and sticking it back inside when it wasn't quite finished. His father, on the rare days when he had got out of bed after Mary's death, had shown him how to make all of Mary's favorite dishes in memory of her.

"Want another pineapple?" Dean asked, taking the leftover slices of pineapple that he hadn't put with the ham onto Sam's highchair table. Sam let out a happy noise, already munching on a previous pineapple slice with juice running down his chin.

"You just have to eat it the messiest way possible, don't ya, Sammy?" Dean commented with a chuckle, taking the rag in his hands and wiping the juice off his face. Sam grinned, smacking his hands on the table and waving them wildly back and forth, splashing pineapple juice onto every object in close range.

"Sticky! Sticky!" Sam giggled happily while Dean was only able to watch him fondly. He could never get mad at Sam for making a mess, especially when the kid seemed so happy when he did so.

"Yes, it's sticky, but don't you want to be clean when Castiel comes?" Dean bargained, watching Sam pause in his shenanigans with a blank face for all of two seconds before he reached for Dean's rag, taking it from his hands and placing it on the juice, putting the last pineapple slice in his mouth.

"Cean up tme" Sam sang around his mouthful of pineapple, wiping his chair dutifully. Dean rolled his eyes, pulling the table of the highchair off the chair before lifting Sam out of it.

"We can clean up the chair in a minute. Let's get you changed," Dean responded, holding the boy as far from his shirt as possible. He already had to do twice the amount of laundry since Sam turned two; there was no way he was adding to it by ruining his clothes as well.

They barely got Sam into new clothes and washed clean of juice before the doorbell went off. Dean shot up, his eyes wide as he realized he wasn't completely done with dinner yet and hurried Sam into the kitchen, sitting him near the door and pulling out the ham, thanking God when he realized it was done. With that finished, and the mashed potatoes and peas already cooked and cooling, he threw the rag in the dirty clothes before running his hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it.

When he opened the door, Castiel was waiting patiently, studying the flowers that had continued to grow even after Mary had died. He smiled at Dean, looking away awkwardly before returning his gaze back to the younger man.

"You have beautiful lilies," Castiel complimented, looking back at the red and orange flowers with a small smile. Dean nodded, feeling just as awkward as he took a step to the side, an obvious space so Castiel could get in.

"Thanks, my mom planted them when I was thirteen," Dean commented, looking at the flowers fondly. He was just glad that they returned every year. Castiel nodded, shuffling his feet before finally stepping in the door, looking around the small hallway as he went.