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Dean helped him to his bed where he tried to sit him down, but Castiel must've been weaker than he thought. He flopped backward, and then Dean cautiously lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath.

"Thank you."

"Got some more comfortable clothes? Something to sleep in?"

It's then Cas remembered he was already dressed for the date, slacks and a white button-up (probably grossly stained, he hated to think), and pointed Dean to a drawer.

A second later Dean was gently hoisting him back to his feet, strong hands at his sides, saying "Here, I'll help you change. Promise I won't look. Too much, I won't look too much."

And that actually made Castiel chuckle.

Dean unbuckled and took off his slacks first, replacing them with sweatpants. It was a slow, quiet process, and Dean only spoke up after he'd taken off Castiel's tie and shirt. "Alright, I gotta be honest, I'm looking. Sorry, Cas."

Cas couldn't help another chuckle. Dean was incredibly respectful through it all, careful not to touch any skin unless he had to, which was mostly to keep Cas from falling over. He slipped a t-shirt onto him and laid Cas back down on the bed, this time with his head where it was supposed to be. That's when things started to blur, when his head hit the pillow.

"I don't think there's anything left in there, but just in case..."

Cas, through hazy vision, noticed Dean putting his empty hamper next to the bed. He thanked him, repeatedly. Cas isn't sure how many times he said it, over and over again, thank you.

"Hey, no, you just get some rest," was the last thing Cas heard Dean say before he was out like a light.

Cas suspects he briefly regained consciousness three times during that night.

The first time, he's sure of. He felt a hand on his shoulder, slowly coaxing him awake. "Here," Dean said softly, placing a bottle of Gatorade with a straw in it on the nightstand. "Drink this if you can, alright? Get your strength back." Cas nodded and fell back asleep.

The second time was more questionable, and he only knows it was real because he saw the results of it in the morning. He slowly awoke on his own and saw Dean in his bathroom across from his bedroom door, wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing away at the toilet with a sponge. Cas tried to stop him, tell him no, please, you don't have to do that, really, but couldn't help sleep drag him back down before he could get the words out.

The third time is the most unbelievable. Borderline fantastical. If it was real, he might just have to marry this guy.

Cas thinks he saw Dean brushing Honey's teeth.

Out of everything that happened the night before, that is all he can think about as he steps out of the shower in the morning. He plans to call Dean, send a fruit basket to his school, invite him on the best date of his life to repay him for all he did, and ask him. It's going to sound ridiculous, did you brush my dog's teeth or did I hallucinate that, and Dean will probably turn down his invite. If not for the hell he went through that night, then for Cas being insane.

And then Cas finds Dean asleep on his couch, Honey snuggled into his side. And yeah, he's probably going to marry this guy. This schoolteacher who happened to pick him and his office as a field trip destination for his math kids. This adorable guy that came back later that same day, thanked him for getting through to the kids (which Cas didn't think he had, but he digresses), and then asked him out. This unbelievably sweet guy that Cas initially rejected, god knows why, but then called at his school and left a message for, Saturday at seven, here's my address, because he couldn't get him off his mind. This caring, thoughtful, heaven-sent guy who showed up with flowers, now in a vase on his dining table, found Cas with food poisoning and proceeded to take care of him, his dog, and his apartment the rest of the night.

Before Cas can think about marrying him again (which he was going to, the hopeless romantic), Honey startles and jumps off the couch, waking Dean. Cas doesn't move, just watches as Dean sits up, notices him, then sits up straighter.

"Hey! Hey, how you feeling?" Dean asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. He put products in his hair for the date, Cas notices, because it's now stiffly and adorably messed up.

"Much better. I won't be entering any pie-eating contests any time soon, though."

"Too bad. That was my next date idea."

Cas smiles, the words next date making his heart flutter in his ribcage. His question pops back into his mind.

"Did you, um..." Don't ask about the dog, he'll think you're crazy. He decides to go with "Did you clean my bathroom last night?" even though he knows the answer.

"Me? No."

Well. Cas thought he knew the answer. Probably dreamed it too. But then who-

"The vomit elves came in," Dean continues. "Real cute. Little hats, miniature vomit bags, adorable. Efficient too."

Cas is stuck somewhere between smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, and shaking his head while rolling his eyes. "Did the elves brush Honey's teeth too?"

"Oh no, that one was me."

And that has Cas laughing in earnest. At the sound of her name, Honey came bouncing back, settling next to Dean on the couch.

"Not letting the little bastards take credit for that one. This sweetheart loves me, and I earned that myself," Dean says, scratching Honey between her ears, enraptured.

"Dean, thank you." At that, Dean looks up. "Thank you. You could've just left, but you chose to stay. And you went above and beyond. Thank you."

Dean looks away and stands, trying to play it off with a wave of his hand. "Nah, it was nothing."

"It was everything," Cas says stepping forward, placing a beckoning hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean finally looks at him with a barely-there smile and a gaze that wants to escape, but he fights for it to stay on Castiel's face. Cas is glad he does, because he needs Dean to see, understand, how grateful he is.

"I uh... I got you these." Dean reaches for a paper bag on the coffee table, and that's when Cas takes his hand off his shoulder. "Some movies."

"Such as?"

"Mostly anime porn," Dean says, and Cas is doing it again, the chuckling/eye roll/head shake combo. "And some stuff I like to watch when I'm not doing great."

"Well, for me that would be documentaries."

"Wait." Dean blinks. "What? What did you say?"

"Documentaries. Preferably environmental, or perhaps historical in nature."

"No way, you're not gonna believe this," Dean says, a bit too much surprise on his face. "This is insane dude, check this out..."

He reaches into the bag, and Cas half believes he's about to pull out a copy of Disney's Earth. He's delighted to be wrong.

"Roadhouse."

“What are you reading?” Cas said to Dean in lieu of a greeting. Dean, however, remained unaware of the angel’s presence, lost in the yellowing pages of his current reading material.

Cas waved his hands in front of the hunter’s face, hoping to get his attention. “Dean...?” Still nothing. He silently sat down beside Dean, and turned his gaze towards his profile. His expression showed the same precise focus he always had during hunts, his right brow slightly furrowed, his mouth turned just a tiny bit downwards.

Cas knew by now it wasn’t a good idea to scare him, so he tentatively placed his fingers on the crook of Dean’s elbow over his red flannel, and stroked down the length of his arm, until he reached the inside of his wrist. Finally, Dean looked up. There was a hint of a smile on his face, but it was accompanied by a (lovely, in Castiel’s humble opinion) red tint spread across his cheeks that suggested he was embarrassed. Cas guided his eyes downwards to look at whatever Dean was so focused on just a minute ago. One hundred and one accurate facts about angels, read the subtitle. Cas smiled to himself.

“I just… think it’s important to know more about my best friend. Y’know?” Dean spoke, a little sheepishly, but without a hint of regret or defensiveness.

Cas shuffled a little closer, feeling Dean’s warmth seeping through his own layers of clothing. He hadn’t yet removed his fingers from where they were posed on Dean’s wrist. Instead, he slid them a little further down. Dean let go of the page he was holding and slotted their fingers together, tracing little circles with his thumb on the back of Cas’ hands.

“Dean, you know you can just ask me, right? Anything you want.” Cas said, his voice soft, almost a whisper.  

Dean took a little too long to answer, focused on his own thumb, idly drawing patterns on Cas’ skin. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He lifted his head then, tracing the angel’s features with his eyes until they landed on Castiel’s own. He only had to move a couple inches closer to connect their lips in a fleeting kiss.

Cas always thought if they ever kissed, there would be some panic involved. He imagined himself getting frozen, or Dean running away in horror. Instead, he looked at Dean and saw- calm. The slowly spreading smile on his face was one of those that came with a certain happiness, the kind that settled deeply in his bones and clung to his heart. This time, it was Cas who leaned forward first.

They kissed for a while, sharing each other’s space as if basking in the sun. Later, Dean leaned back against the bookshelf, and brought Cas’ head down to settle on his shoulder. Then, he said: “Go on then, tell me about you, angel.”

“Well, I’m assuming that’s what he wants to make,” he said, turning back to Krista after failing to spot Dean in the crowds. “Today’s been a bit chaotic.”

First Claire texting late last night that she and Kaia were coming over—which prompted a scrambling to make sure the guest room was clean—then Jack spilling his orange juice at breakfast—dammit, he still had a stain on his shirt—now Dean disappearing and leaving him to carry ten thousand bags—Cas’ fault for buying two jars of honey plus a box of honeycomb, plus various vegetables and baked goods, but still.

“Well, I got some really ripe peaches today,” Krista told him.

Cas started to respond, but movement drew his eyes to Jack just in time to watch him poke at a peach and shift the entire infrastructure of perfectly balanced fruit. Though he leapt forward to stop the avalanche, he couldn’t get there in time to save ten or more peaches from launching themselves into the air and rolling away.

Krista started laughing and, face burning, Castiel crouched to collect the fallen peaches, bags banging against his knees. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for these. Jack, say sorry.”

“Sorry,” Jack said, toeing at the dirt and looking chastened. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright.” Krista came around the front to help pick up the peaches. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.” Straightening with two in each hand, she asked Jack, “You wanna try a piece?”

“Yes!” Jack said with a clap of his hands.

“You don’t have to—” Cas started, but Krista was already pulling out a cutting board and knife from behind the stand and cutting into the peach.

“The best part of coming to a farmer’s market is the free samples,” she said. Juices seeped onto the board as she divided the peach into thick slices. “Here.” She offered a slice to Jack first, who crammed it eagerly in his mouth, then one to Cas.

Juggling the runaway peaches in his arms, he took the pale yellow slice and bit into it. Sweet with just enough tartness, soft skin and buttery smooth flesh.

“Mmm,” he said, catching juice dripping down the side of his hand. “Those are very good.”

“Told you so,” Krista smiled. She held out a box and Cas placed the peaches that had tried to make their escape inside. Sixteen in total. Much more than they needed for a pie. Well, at least they were delicious.

“Why you buying so many peaches, man?”

Hefting the box of peaches into the crook of his arm, Cas turned to see Dean walking over, a brown bag in one hand, an open container in the other displaying a half-eaten slice of pie. “There you are.”

“Yeah, sorry, got distracted talking to Liam.” He gestured in the direction of the meat vendor with a plastic fork, then back at the pie slice. “Dude, you have to try this, it’s so good.”

“You want a peach sample, Dean?” Krista asked.

“Oh, hell yeah.” He took the slice from her. “Best part of coming to these markets.” Krista gave Cas an amused I told you so look.

“Anyway,” Dean said around a mouthful. “I’m thinking about rigging up a sheet in the backyard with the projector. Ya know, to watch movies tonight? Thinking Sam and Eileen can come over too, make a whole get-together out of it.”

How quickly plans for a quiet Saturday night could turn into a boisterous Winchester and Co. event. Dean’s eyes were bright, though, and Jack’s eyes were wide in amazement at this idea.

“Sounds good to me,” Cas agreed, and Jack cheered. Dean held out a forkful of pie, and, leaning forward, Cas let Dean feed it to him. He nodded thoughtfully, appreciating the spices and crunch of sugar. “Your pies are better.”

“You’re lying,” Dean said, though he looked appropriately pleased. Jack clambered at his legs, so he gave him a forkful too, then tossed the empty carton in a nearby trashcan. Cas paid for the peaches—and a few plums and apricots too because he’d never been good at self-control in a farmer’s market.

Jack bounced eagerly, babbling about Claire and donuts and Finding Nemo and Toy Story, "... and the peaches went flying." He swung his arms wildly to demonstrate, and Dean scooped him up. When Jack tried to get away, he turned him upside down, and Jack’s protests turned into screaming laughter which caused more than a few glances their way. Cas smiled despite himself and fixed Jack’s shirt, which was sliding to his head.

“I got everything I need,” he told Dean, holding up his bags and boxes.

“Well, I got the sack of potatoes,” Dean said, shaking Jack a little.

“No!” Jack said, his face turning red. “Not potatoes. Jack!”

“What?” Dean turned him right-side up and stared at him like he was seeing him for the first time. Jack giggled. “Sorry, dude, my bad.” He set him on his feet and took some of the bags from Cas. “See ya, Krista.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” Krista told them. Cas waved to her as they walked off. Jack squeezed himself in between him and Dean, taking their free hands.

“I wanna make peach pie,” he told Dean.

“Sure, Cas has enough for three of them.”

“And ice cream,” Jack said. “And donuts and burgers and hot dogs.” He jumped and Dean and Cas took the cue, lifting him to swing him between them. Jack whooped, and Cas started laughing.

“What?” Dean asked, grinning as he swung Jack again.