Chapter Text
“You forgot your scarf.”
Cas huffs and gives him a glare that’s probably meant to seem annoyed, but the red tinges in his cheeks just makes it adorable. Not that Dean will ever say that, of course.
“Here.” Dean takes the fluffy grey wool scarf out of the hallway closet, and loops it around Cas’s head a couple of times. Cas pushes it down so his nose and mouth are free, and Dean kisses him just because. “You ready to go?”
Cas nods, and they get out and into the car. The drive to town is short, just under twenty minutes, and as soon as Dean parks, Cas is out in the snow like an excited little puppy. Dean chuckles and follows.
There’s a small park nearby, Green Park- though it’s mostly white today- and Cas is heading for it now. He’s got a minor limp, but he doesn’t need his crutch anymore and he’s told Dean his arm barely aches. They’ve got just over a week left before the cast is off, and another week before it’s Christmas. Dean still hasn’t bought any presents yet. He doesn’t know what to get Cas, and that bothers him more than he he’d like. He could justify it to himself saying that Cas probably hasn’t thought much about it either, but Dean knows for a fact that his angel has been working on a project behind Dean’s back. He doesn’t want to get Cas something cheap or easy- he wants to find something that really matters.
Jesus, if his past self could’ve heard him think- or even Sammy. Dean cringes mentally.
He wanders after Cas, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his winter coat, watching his man bend down to make a mini-snowman by the little pathway they’re walking on. Cas turns to grin at Dean, and Dean grins back. Is it silly if I make a snow angel? Cas signs, and Dean laughs.
“Go wild, Cas.”
So Cas flops down in the snow, which is barely two inches thick, and flaps his arm and legs carefully. It looks absolutely ridiculous. When he’s done, he carefully eases his way out of the snow print and jumps back, leaving the one-winged snow angel intact. He bends over and pulls his mitten off with his teeth to make a small halo over the snow angel’s head.
“Looking good,” Dean says, barely managing not to laugh out loud, and comes to stand behind him. Cas leans into his touch lightly and sighs.
I didn’t have a halo, you know. Not in the traditional way humans depict it.
Dean can sense Cas’s melancholia creeping up on him, so he just kisses Cas’s neck. Doesn’t ask what the halo looked like, though he wants to know. “C’mon. D’you wanna go look for a present for Sammy? I already got him something, but apparently he’s being a little bitch and getting us a couple’s present, so it’s only fair we give him one for both of us.” Actually, he hasn’t bought Sam’s present yet, but he wants it to be a secret from Cas too. He bets Cas is one of those people who are just as excited about other people’s presents as his own.
Cas turns and smiles at him, looking surprised. Couple?
Dean swallows hard when he realizes what he just said. “… yeah. Couple.” When they start walking again, Dean makes a choice. He takes Cas’s hand in his own, entwines their fingers, and squeezes lightly.
Cas looks down at their hands with a puzzled expression, though a smile is curling on his lips.
“Oh, shut up,” Dean mutters, and Cas laughs that awesome, silent laugh of his. They walk through the park like a ‘normal’ couple, nodding lightly at the people they meet, and their hands stay entwined the whole time. The thought makes Dean want to panic, but he doesn’t actually feel uncomfortable. Just… like there’s a spotlight at him. He looks over at Cas, who is practically shining there he walks.
Okay, so maybe Dean can live with the occasional spotlight if it makes Cas look like that.
They stride past a series of small shops, Cas peering excitedly at the window displays, Dean half-interested by his side. They finally end up going into a store- Joey’s- that seems like a strange mix between a hardware store, a grocery shop and a library. The upper floor is filled with books, the downstairs with foods and all kinds of stuff. They walk around for a bit, until Cas finds a strange kind of lamp and taps excitedly on the package.
“A lamp? We’re getting Sammy a lamp?” Dean asks, incredulous. “And here I thought you didn’t have humor, Cas.”
Cas elbows him in the ribs and taps the info part. Dean obediently picks the package up to read.
‘Energy light therapy lamp’, it says, which doesn’t tell Dean much except it probably is a really good lamp. “Again I ask; lamp?”
Cas sighs. It’s for use in the winter months and when you’re tired. The light gives you extra energy, makes you wake up in the morning. Like coffee.
“Oh,” Dean says, still clueless.
Cas rolls his eyes. For Sam’s studies.
“Oh. Oh! Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Dean acknowledges. He knows how Sam’s prone to sit up all night with his homework, and a miracle might help out there. If it helps keep the caffeine level down, Dean’s glad.
And when exactly did he start giving a damn about his brother’s caffeine level? Jesus.
They end up buying the lamp, and also a new sketchbook for Cas. Dean’s pretty sure Cas is gonna start up painting or something soon, because the angel’s been sketching constantly in his small notebook for the last couple of weeks. Cas refuses to show Dean the images, though, and Dean’s curious. Then again, it’s probably got something to do with Heaven and the life Cas led before the Winchesters helped tear him out of Heaven, and Dean isn’t sure he want to tackle that bout of issues just yet. Not before Cas gives him the green light, anyway.
It’s colder when they get back out, even if it’s only afternoon, and Cas shivers in his thick winter coat. Dean steers them in the direction of a nearby Starbucks. On the way they pass a jewelry store, and Dean sees Cas glance at it before he looks at Dean, then straight forward. Like he’s afraid Dean would think Cas was checking out something in particular and be freaked out. Which- oh. Oh.
Dean hadn’t thought of that. Huh.
They get inside the coffee shop, the warmth of the inside blasting them in the face. Cas’s cheeks and nose tip heat up instantly, taking on a bright, red, healthy tinge, and he takes his seat at a small table by the window, Dean getting in line.
“What can I getcha?” the teenager behind the counter asks, long hair in a ponytail and two piercings in each eyebrows. He gives Dean a grin.
“One grande chai latte, extra spiced, whipped cream on top… and a regular black coffee, venti.”
“Anything else?” the guy asks as he writes the orders on two paper cups.
Dean glances at the display of cakes, cupcakes and sandwiches. “Um… One piece of strawberry shortcake and a Belgian waffle.”
“Comin’ right up,” Ponytail Guy says, and Dean pays before he goes back to their table.
Cas smiles at him, hair mussed after he’s taken off his long scarf, and his good hand is on the table. It’s placed so that Dean can take it if he wants to, but it’s not weird if he doesn’t. Dean notices, though he’s not sure if Cas is doing is subconsciously or by purpose. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabs Cas’s hand again.
Cas’s smile turns shy and content.
“One chai latte,” Ponytail Guy says and puts the tea down between them, “and a coffee. I’ll get your cakes in a sec.” He goes back to get the calorie bombs, before putting them on the middle of the table as well (as if he knows they’re gonna share them). “Enjoy!” he says in that entirely too cheerful voice most coffee house patrons have, before leaving them alone.
Cas lets go of Dean’s hand to take a sip of his chai, the two of them enjoying the relative silence for a while. The other people in the bar are talking animatedly, more people coming and leaving constantly, making a cold breeze from the outside waft over them every now and then.
On Monday, Cas signs after a while, it’s been nine months.
“Yeah,” Dean sighs. He knows. He hasn’t forgotten- hasn’t stopped counting the days just yet. “How’s… y’know. Whaddya think about that?” Fuck if he’s gonna ask how Cas is feeling about it, but he’s still curious.
Cas’s eyes turn fond. I don’t know. Compared to the rest of my life, I haven’t had too long to think about it. He takes another sip when he’s done signing, eyes fluttering shut at the taste of his favorite hot beverage. Then again, everything seems to go much slower now. Hard to think sometimes.
“Yeah,” Dean says and reaches up to stroke a thumb across Cas’s soft, warm cheek. “It can be like that for the rest of us too.”
Cas smiles, and then a middle-aged, smiling woman walks up to them.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice,” she chirps, and the two of them stare up at her. “Is he mute of deaf?” It’s directed at Dean, her big face split into a big smile.
Dean glances at Cas, who looks a little taken aback but smiles uncertainly. “He’s just mute, ma’am,” he says, the words coming out a little more chilled than he’d hoped, “so he can hear you just fine.”
“Oh!” She’s wearing a dark brown fur coat and a small hat, steel grey curls forming a weird sort of halo around her face. Her lipstick is such a dark shade of red it’s almost violet, and she peers curiously at Cas. “Helloo,” she says, mouthing clearly. “How aaare you.”
Cas looks like he’s not sure how to respond to that, but finally takes his notepad out of his pocket and writes I’m fine, thank you. The handwriting’s clumsy, because his left hand is not his strong one, but it’s readable. Cas has had some practice these last seven weeks.
“Oh, would you look at that!” The woman says, like she’s never seen a notepad in her life. Dean clenches his jaw, but doesn’t say anything yet. “How adorable! Whaat’s yooour naaame?”
“Like I said, ma’am,” Dean bites out, “he can hear you just fine. There’s no need to talk over-clearly.”
“How nice it must be for him,” she chirps and smiles sweetly at Dean, like she didn’t even hear him speak, “that you take him out every now and then. I just hate those stories when they coop them up inside and hide them from the world, don’t you?”
Cas’s smile falters. He looks like he’s been struck, and Dean has to resist punching the woman. “Excuse me?” he snarls, and she blinks in surprise. “Did you not hear a word I said? He’s mute, not an invalid! There is nothing wrong with him!” He’s vaguely aware that he’s standing, that he’s yelling, and that everyone in the coffee house is staring at him- including Ponytail Guy from behind the counter- but he can’t quite bring himself to give a fuck. “And yeah, I hate those stories when people who are different gets stuffed away and hidden. You know what else I hate? When bigoted, oh-so-normal people like you pretend you know anything about us, pretend that you actually give a fuck, and that you don’t just want an excuse to tell your friends about ‘that cute little mute freak’ you met the other day!”
She stares at him, mouth open, chest heaving like it’s she who’s been yelling and not him. “How dare you!” she finally snarls and turns on her heels to storm out of the shop, the rest of the guests’ eyes on her. When she’s gone, they go back to staring wide-eyed at Dean.
“Oh fuck off, show’s over,” he growls, and the ones with decency look away with a slightly guilty expression. Ponytail Guy goes back to making coffee.
Dean sits back down and turns to Cas. “Hey. Hey, you.”
Cas is trembling slightly, staring down at his notepad with glassy eyes. His face is hard and stiff, the way it only is when he’s about to start crying, and Dean knows he’ll never forgive himself if he lets Cas break down in the middle of the coffee shop.
He grabs Cas’s hand to drag him across the shop. The Starbucks has one tiny restroom for men and one for women, and Dean slips both of them in before locking the door. “Hey, it’s okay, Cas.”
Cas’s lip trembles, Dean pulls him close and his angel lets out a distressed wheeze. He buries his face in Dean’s flannel shirt, and Dean feels the wetness there after a moment. Cas sobs silently, as always, shoulders barely heaving, and Dean puts a hand on the back of his neck and holds, just holds. He knows Cas will tell him, eventually.
They stand like that for a while, Dean pressed up against the sink. The porcelain digs into his lower back and Cas’s tears are making his shirt sticky on the left shoulder, but Dean just murmurs a couple of soothing words and kisses his angel’s temple. Finally Cas stills and shifts, and Dean feels hot and uneven breath ghost across the side of his neck. “Feel better?”
Cas pulls back and shakes his head, but he’s stopped crying. His face is puffy, eyes sore from where they’ve been pressed against Dean’s shirt, and the man rubs them in an almost irritated motion. Like he’s embarrassed, which is bullshit.
“Here, lemme,” Dean murmurs and gets some drying towels. He wets them slightly in the sink, and dab them across Cas’s face to reduce the swelling and redness. It doesn’t bother him, but he knows Cas doesn’t want everyone in the coffee house to know he’s been crying. “Tell me what you’re thinking, baby.”
It’s been a long time, Cas signs tiredly, staring at Dean’s shirt while Dean cleans up his face, since someone has made me feel like there was something wrong with me. Less than human.
Dean sighs as his stomach drops. Yeah. Yeah, he can see that. “That woman? Was a fucking bitch, Cas. She has no idea. I mean, did you hear the way she talked to you?!” He’s nearing shouting-volume again, and takes a deep breath.
Cas nods, but he still looks miserable and his eyes are still shiny. Is it so hard to talk to me?
“No. It’s not. All she had to do was act like a decent human being, and treat you like one. Now I dunno ‘bout you, Cas, but I don’t find that so goddamn hard.” Dean throws the paper towel in the bin with more force than necessary. “You ready to go out there again?”
Cas shakes his head. Wait.
“Whatever you say, Cas.” Dean curls a hand in his angel’s hair and pulls him close again. Cas tastes salty from the tears, and sweet and spicy from the tea. He opens up for Dean immediately, seeking comfort. Cas presses closer, hands gripping Dean’s sides to keep him close. When Dean pulls back, the only visibly swollen parts of Cas’s face are his lips. “There’s nothin’ wrong about you, Cas. Nothin’. And the next person that says so, I’mma punch the living daylights out of.” Cas doesn’t get the reference, but he manages a small smile. Good enough for now, Dean thinks and kisses him on the forehead. “Ready?”
Cas nods and takes his hand, and they walk back out. They don’t look at the other people in the coffee house as they sit down, though Dean can feel their eyes on them. He calmly sips his coffee and eats the rest of his waffle, while Cas munches on his piece of cake. They’re sitting a bit closer than before, and the mood isn’t what it was, but Cas looks okay now. He does.
Ponytail Guy walks up to them and Dean’s sharp eyes are on him in an instant, daring him to say anything about his little outburst. But the guy just puts down a bowl of vanilla ice cream on the middle of their table, whipped cream and chocolate sauce on top, two spoons next to the bowl. “On the house,” he says quietly and walks back behind the counter without another word.
Dean looks at Cas. Cas is staring at Ponytail Guy with wide eyes and something like pride. It’s the same kind of expression he had as an angel, a couple of times- a sense of doing the right thing. If Dean liked chick-flick talk, he’d say Cas just got a little of his faith in humanity back.
Sensing that Cas is about to have another minor breakdown-moment, this one out of gratitude, Dean opts for steering them both onto firmer ground. “Ice cream!" he says, loudly. "Awesome.” He grabs one of the spoons and grins at Cas, before it turns into a smirk. “Don’t make me feed you, Cas.”
Cas grins back at him, eyes twinkling again, and Dean writes a mental note to come back here alone later and give Ponytail Guy one hell of a tip. Well, Cas signs, I do have a broken arm. I need help.
“You fucking girl,” Dean chuckles and feeds Cas a piece of ice cream. Then he grabs Cas’s neck and pulls him into a dirty kiss, licking the vanilla and chocolate taste out of his angel’s mouth, and he fucking hopes everyone in this bar fucking sees what he’s doing to Cas right now, because no bigoted fucking assholes are gonna fuck with Dean Winchester’s boyfriend and get away with it.
Ponytail ignores them and keeps making coffee, mouth curved up in an amused smile.
~*~