#creative caviar

“I’m not naked, man.”

“Oh.” Cas rubs at the back of his head.  

“Did that hurt?”

“Uh, yeah, a little.”

“C’mere.”

Cas hesitates for a second before walking over and sitting on the end of the bed. He’s as far away from Dean as he can possible be, without actually sitting on the floor. Dean sighs and pulls his arms out from beneath the duvet. “Cas, I don’t have x-ray vision.” He pats the spot on the bed beside him and tries to ignore the butterflies skimming along his skin. “Come over here.”  

Cas scoots awkwardly along the bed until he’s perched beside Dean, his profile unreadable as he stares at the wall. Dean leans forward and gently turns his head until he can see the back. He runs his fingers along the scalp where his skull made contact with the door and tries to ignore how Cas seems to lean back against his touch. He’s probably just imagining that anyway. “It looks okay. Don’t think you’ll even have a bruise.”

Cas offers him a shy smile that feels like a punch to his heart. “Thank you, Dean.” He starts to get up but Dean grabs his arm before he can go.  

“Wait.” He doesn’t want him to go. When does he ever? Cas glances at his hand on his arm and then at Dean. “Why did you come in here?”

Cas scratches his chin and actually manages to look embarrassed. It’s a look that Dean finds horribly endearing. “I, uh, wanted to ask if you would like to go for a walk with me.”

“A walk?” Another thump to his beating heart.  

Cas nods. “Yeah, the leaves are falling and there’s a chill in the air. I thought you might like to see it.”

Dean nods and he can’t keep the smile from his face. Damn, Cas is adorable. “Yeah, buddy. I would love to go for a walk with you. But first, close your eyes.”

“I-what?”

“Trust me.”

Cas squints at him suspiciously but sighs and lets his eyes slide closed. And maybe Dean stares at him like this for a little too long, and maybe his eyes flicker down to Cas’ lips, perpetually chapped and slightly parted. And maybe he even wonders what those lips would feel like pressed against his. But then again, who’s to say?  

He shakes his head and digs beneath the duvet for what he stashed there earlier. Taking a short breath to steady himself, and before he can talk himself out of it, Dean yanks a crochet scarf from beneath the duvet and throws it around Cas’ neck, pulling him closer as he does. Which is a complete accident, of course.  

Cas opens his eyes, surprised by the movement and his sudden proximity to Dean, and for a moment he just stares at him, his bright blue eyes blinking slowly. Eyes Dean could stare into for hours. Eyes he could easily get lost in. They’re so dangerously close now that Dean can feel Cas’ breath on his face. He feels himself swallow as he holds the end of the scarf up between them. “Uh, this is for you.”

Cas blinks several times in quick succession, like he’s remembering where he is, and glances down at the scarf. “Dean. I didn’t know you could crochet.”  

Dean motions at the wonky scarf, the mismatched yarn, and the rough edges. “Well, clearly I can’t. You made it look a lot easier than it is. I watched hours of tutorial videos online, but it’s just so damn complicated.”

Cas laughs softly and it’s like the first drops of rain after a long drought. “And you made this for me?”

Why does he have to stare at Dean so earnestly? And is it warm in here or is it just Dean’s face? “Yeah, uh, you made a blanket, I made a scarf. Gift exchange. It might not look like much but it’ll keep you warm. Not that you ever really get cold, but still. Just in case.” Shut up, shut up, shut up.  

Cas runs his hands slowly along the length of the scarf wrapped around his neck and Dean remembers belatedly that he’s still holding on to either end.

He should probably let go. He should definitely let go. He doesn’t let go.  

“Thank you, Dean. I love it.” And Cas is smiling at him, and he’s still so intoxicatingly close. Dean could do something about that, if he was brave enough. Is he brave enough? “Ready for our walk?” Cas asks him, and Dean nods and loosens his grip on the scarf, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he pulls Cas closer and plants a gentle kiss on his left cheek. Maybe he’s not brave, but maybe he’s not a coward either. He feels his heart stutter as he releases the scarf and climbs from the bed. By the time he reaches the door he’s already got a million reasons why that was perfectly normal best friend behavior. Don’t Europeans do that all the time?  

He opens the door and risks one quick look back at Cas who is still sitting on the bed. He’s perfectly still, and maybe he has one hand resting lightly on the spot where Dean placed his lips, and maybe he doesn’t.

Today is one hell of a day for maybes.  

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✨ Tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed ✨ (maybe a bad time to post with the upcoming chaos but I didn't want to forget so 💖)

That was something he remembered girls in middle school doing. Making them during recess, passing them around during lunch. Supposed to wear one and never take it off, some superstition about not breaking the bonds of friendship. Never got one himself, so he couldn't say whether that had any truth to it or not.

He blinked to realize Jack was dumping yarn in front of him. “What?”

“I have extras, I flew to the craft store this morning to buy some.”

Dean recognized the determined look in Jack’s eyes; he’d seen it too many times in Cas’. "I dunno how to make one,” he tried as a last ditch effort to get out of this project.

Jack turned his laptop around so they could both see the screen. “I have a tutorial. It’s really easy.”

Setting down his mug with a sigh, Dean started rooting through the yarn, choosing different colors. Friendship Day. At another time, he would’ve told Jack he didn’t have any friends to make bracelets for. That wasn’t true anymore; the bunker was always getting visitors—hunters from other states, Benny, Charlie, Jody, Donna or one of the girls.

He realized the colors he was setting aside were all different shades of blue. Sure, he and Cas were a lot more than friends—he had a blooming hickey on his inner thigh to prove it—but he knew the way Cas’ eyes would light up receiving one. And, anyway, they were friends. Had been for a long time now.

Jack tapped the play button on the youtube video and it was settled. Cas was getting a friendship bracelet.

Maybe not a perfect one, Dean thought half an hour later, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he tried to make the bracelet turn out straight and not all wonky. He tested the length around his own wrist and decided it looked decent. Pretty good for his first ever friendship bracelet.

“Done,” he announced, looking up to see Jack starting on a third. “Jesus, kid, slow down.”

Jack didn’t look up, weaving the purple and white yarn together. “Can’t. I have to make one for Charlie too, just remembered.”

“She’ll love that.” He could almost hear Charlie’s excitement now. Getting to his feet, he ruffled Jack’s hair. “You got a lot of lucky friends. Having you as a friend, I mean.”

Jack beamed up at him. “I’m lucky too.”

And Dean thought he was the luckiest of all to get Cas as a friend-plus-more. He found the angel sitting in the library, reading a Pottery Barn magazine, the picture of contentment.

At his entrance, Cas looked up and smiled. “I found a bookshelf that I think would look nice in our room.” He turned the magazine around so Dean could see.

“Cool.” Dean hovered near his chair, suddenly feeling sheepish holding the thin bracelet in his hand. He cleared his throat. “Hey, you, uh. You know what day it is?”

Cas turned a page in the magazine. "Sunday, August 1st. 2021. 3:12pm. And seven seconds."

"No, it's like a special day."

Cas frowned, looking up at him. “Is today another human holiday I’m unaware of?”

“Nah, it’s not that important. Just, uh. Friendship Day. Jack told me. He’s making friendship bracelets for Claire and Charlie and everyone.”

Cas smiled. “That’s very sweet of him.”

“I kinda made you one. To celebrate, or whatever.” He held out the bracelet.

Cas’ eyes widened going from the dangling bracelet to him. “You made one for me?”

“Yeah, uh. Figured we’re friends, right?” Feeling his face heat, he ducked his head to take Cas’ hand and tie it around his wrist. “Just a weird thing people do.”

Cas turned his wrist to study the bracelet more closely. “I think it’s a wonderful sentiment. I didn’t know you were skilled at bracelet making.”

“Dude, it’s not that hard.” He sat down on the arm of the chair, more to hide his red face than anything. “Jack’s look way better.”

“I love it,” Cas said decisively. “If I had known about today, I would’ve made you one too.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is,” Cas insisted. He ran his finger over the bracelet, blue threads forming a pattern more even in some places than others. “You’re my best friend.”

The simple statement, said so definitively, made Dean a little dizzy. Leaning down, he kissed Cas, felt the bracelet brush his face when Cas cupped his jaw. “You're mine too.”

Cas kissed him back, then tugged him off the arm of the chair to half-sit in his lap. The magazine slipped to the floor and Dean shifted, wrapping an arm around Cas’ shoulders to steady himself. He tapped the bracelet. “You’re not supposed to take it off. Kinda a symbol or whatever. Friends for life.”

Cas nodded solemnly and hovered his palm over the bracelet, a glow warming the strands before subsiding. "Nothing can break it, so I can wear it forever." He leaned his head back against Dean’s arm to meet his eyes.

“And, uh, if you made me a bracelet, I would wear it.”

“I will, then.” A slow smile spread across his face. “Does this mean we’re BFFs?” Dean groaned, and Cas laughed. “Claire taught me that phrase.”