Bouquet

Chapter Sixteen

Last night was awesome. That was the only way to describe it. Even more awesome was waking up the next morning to Cas curled up against him, one arm thrown over his bare chest.

Dean smiled into Cas' hair. There was a fierce swell of love in his chest.

That terrified him. He hadn't ever felt like this before, for anyone. But Cas-

Cas made him happy, Cas was perfect, Cas was everything he wanted, everything he needed. And he'd be fucked if he let that go.

Cas stirred as Dean wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer.

Dean wasn't sure how long they laid there before Cas woke up.

Cas grumbled something against Dean's chest.

"'Morning to you too, Cas," Dean said.

"What time is it?" Cas opened an eye blearily.

Dean turned his head to look at the bedside clock. "Seven thirty."

"Good, I can go back to sleep. Work isn't until ten." He closed his eyes again.

"You want me to try and make you breakfast?" Dean offered.

"Later," Cas mumbled. "Right now you're staying here."

Dean laughed. "No complaints, man."

"Good." Cas burrowed further into Dean's side.

This was perfect.

They stayed like that for another hour before Cas grudgingly let Dean get up to make coffee and breakfast.

"Meg isn't back yet," Cas noted, watching Dean rummage around in his fridge. "Should we be worried?"

"When she goes to a bar, does she usually leave with company?" Dean said.

"More often than not," Cas said.

"Then she's probably fine," Dean said. "Bet she hooked up with some guy and spent the night at his place. Got some action in. Nothing like we had, though." He winked at Cas.

Cas blushed slightly.

He was absolutely adorable when he blushed. Dean made a mental note to make him do that more often.

"I... I do think that last night would be hard to top," Cas said, sounding pleased.

"Well, we'll just have to try sometime, huh?" Dean grinned when Cas' blush deepened.

The room fell into a comfortable silence while Dean cooked. Cas seemed content just watching Dean, only moving from his chair to quickly water his plants.

"Come on," Dean complained teasingly when he did. "You love your plants more than me?"

Cas said, completely deadpan, "Yes, Dean. I care about this shrub more than I do my boyfriend. I assumed that went without saying."

"Wow. Thanks, Cas. Glad to know what your priorities are."

By half past nine, they had both eaten. Cas was clad in his usual trench coat, much to Dean's displeasure, ("I'm not saying you don't look badass in it, because you do. But what if you get too hot? You'd better not get heat stroke or something.") and they were sitting in the Impala outside the flower shop.

"I should probably head in," Cas said. He made no move to get out of the car.

"Probably," Dean agreed. He didn't move either. It just felt so right, the two of them there, together.