It's the sound, and more likely the smell of bacon that finally rouses him at 10:17 a.m. Dean stumbles out of bed, tripping on the comforter as he stops only to pull on a pair of ratty sweats; he doesn't even bother with boxers. He wanders into the kitchen, scratching absently at his chest as a jaw-creaking yawn splits his face in half. Cas turns at the sound, a warm smile on his face. He holds a pair of tongs, turning the bacon as it cooks.
Dean loops his arms around his waist from behind, dropping his pillow-creased face onto Cas' shoulder. "Well, good morning, sleeping beauty."
Dean can practically hear the grin in his voice. Dean mumbles something along the lines of 'shut up' and 'that smells awesome' in retaliation. He laughs at that, and the corners of his blue eyes crinkle in a way that makes Dean tighten his grasp fondly. Cas pulls away to dump the bacon onto a paper towel to drain and Dean gets a look at his attire for the first time.
He wears blue boxers that match his eyes patterned with black wings, a white apron with 'KISS THE COOK' emblazoned across the front complete with red lipstick mark, and a single woollen sock. When Cas turns to grab two plates, Dean catches him by the wrists and pulls him in for a kiss.
After several pleasant minutes, Dean releases him. Cas' eyes look a bit glazed as he happily mutters, "What was that for?"
Dean laughs and gestures towards the apron "Just following orders – he raises his eyebrows – where's your other sock?"
"That is an excellent question." Cas answers, loading two plates with bacon, eggs, and toast.
Dean plops down at the table, accepting the plate that Cas offers him. While Cas bustles around, fixing them both coffee, Dean butters first his own toast, and then Castiel's, spooning jam onto the latter's. Cas hands him a mug of black coffee with four sugars and settles into the wooden chair beside him.
They eat in companionable silence punctuated by the gentle clink of silverware on plates and Dean's rapturous moans of delight regarding the bacon. After not only seconds, but third helpings on his part, Dean pushes back his chair with a contented groan.
"I think… I might… be full now."
Cas laughs as he balances their plates and empty mugs on one hand. Dean joins him at the sink, and together they do the dishes; Cas washes, insisting that Dean doesn't do it right, so Dean is left to dry. One stack of clean dishes and an impromptu soap fight later, Dean steps out onto the back porch. He stands in the sun, head tilted back to receive the vitamin D, eyes shut against the light.
Having discarded the apron, Cas joins him. He snakes his arms around his waist, assuming the same position Dean had used earlier. Hooking his chin over his shoulder, Cas lets out a happy sigh in Dean's ear.
"You wanna go out; get some actual groceries before we unpack the rest of the boxes? We only had breakfast because I picked that up at the gas station yesterday."
Dean contemplates this offer, narrowing his eyes in thought. "Sure. But don't get dressed," he replies, following Cas back into the house.
"Why not?"
"I haven't had sex with you yet," and with that, Dean whisks him into the bedroom with a kiss and a smirk.
Afterwards, they lie together on their makeshift bed. Having both been too tired to actually put together the bed frame, they slept on a mattress on the floor. Cas lay with his head on Dean's chest, tracing the sunburst tattoo with the tips of his fingers. Dean was just drifting off to sleep, when he bounded up.
"Come on, get dressed. You said we would go shopping." Dean groans and sits up, stretching his muscles. It's with great reluctance that he showers and dresses in the same clothes he wore the day before; a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a grey shirt gone soft with wear.
Once at the grocery store, Dean pushes the cart for Cas, wincing every now and again at the single squeaky wheel. Cas pauses for a few minutes in the bakery section of the store before choosing a half dozen bagels and a loaf of crusty sourdough bread. He appraises different cuts of meat before finally deciding on a cut of steak that has Dean's mouth watering.
One shopping cart full of food and other household necessities, they're waiting in line to check out. Cas has informed him of his excellent dinner plan, consisting of steak and vegetable kabobs, salad, and the sourdough bread.
The people in front of them pay for their groceries and Cas starts unloading the contents of the cart onto the conveyor belt. The cashier, a pretty blonde with a nametag that reads 'Nikki', greets Dean with a smile and a "Find everything ya'll were after?" in a southern drawl.
He nods, smiling in return as he scoots past Cas to grab a pack of cinnamon gum that he loves. She cheerfully rings up their purchases, making small talk with them as she chew a wad of sugary-sweet grape bubblegum.
"That'll be $217.83." Nikki informs Dean, twirling a strand of caramel hair around her finger. He doesn't realize that his jaw has dropped open in shock until Castiel nudges him with a small smile on his face, "Come on, honey. Just pay." He nods and swipes the debit card.
"Oh, are ya'll together?" Nikki asks; an odd underlying tone present in her voice.
"Yeah," Cas blushes and smiles in embarrassment while Dean completes the transaction.
"Oh." Nikki's demeanour changes abruptly. She rips off their receipt with unnecessary force and practically throws it at Cas before shoving the paper sacks of groceries at Dean. When her fingers brush Castiel's as he accepts the receipt, she flinches. Cas' shy smiles drops off his face and he grabs Dean by the wrist.
"Have a nice day." He says before leading a fuming Dean out of the store.
Once they're safely in the Impala, groceries nestled in the backseat, Dean turns towards Cas. "Why'd you pull me outta there? I was going to talk to her manager! She's got no right to be homophobic."
"Dean, you would've regretted it later. Besides, she might not have been homophobic. Maybe she just was having a bad day." Cas says lamely, trying to calm him down. He places a soothing hand on Dean's arm as he drives away, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
"Don't kid yourself, Cas." And nothing more is said on the thirty minute drive back to their house.
