Dean is 12 years old and he's lying on his best friends bedroom floor, waiting for Castiel to get home from school. Cas told him once that he wanted to stargaze, but they're living in a city glowing with harsh electric light so the best they ever get is a few paling stars valiantly trying to shine through the streetlights. And so Dean skipped school and spent this week's pocket money on some plastic glow-in-the-dark stars, snuck into Cas's bedroom through the window, and plastered the ceiling with them the best he could whilst leaning precariously from a little wooden stool. When Cas gets home Dean stands up and grins at him sheepishly, and it takes him a few seconds to see what Dean has done, but when he does he jumps up and down and says 'Thank you thank you thank you-', gives Dean a bony hug and starts counting down 'til it gets dark out. Its winter so it doesn't take long, and they fill the time with careless 12-year-old chatter as the watery grey light filtering though the curtains fades into nothing.
When it's dark enough, they lay top and tail on Cas's bed and stare up at the jagged points of fluorescent light. Personally, Dean's not sure what the big deal is about, but Cas seems enthralled and Dean's not about ruin his fun. 'Hey look,' Cas says, lifting an arm to draw shapes in the air, 'there's Perseus- if you shift that one left a bit, and that there could be Orion's belt if you moved that middle one up a little-' Dean rolls his eyes. 'I stuck them on at random, dork, there ain't any constellations up there like in the real sky.' He feels Cas shrug before saying; 'Well you must be a natural then, because they look perfect.' 'Whatever you say, spaceman.' says Dean and they fall back into silence for a few comfortable minutes. 'Hey Cas,' says Dean into the silence. 'When I can drive, and dad lets me use the Impala, we'll go somewhere you can see the sky properly, and you can tell me about all those constellations for real, yeah?' Dean's not sure why he says it, its not like he cares either way about stupid constellations, but Cas's voice is filled with such warmth when he replies that that's a good enough reason alone. 'Thanks, Dean.'
Dean is 18 years old and standing around the corner from his best friends house, leaning against the Impala. When Castiel rounds the corner, he grins devilishly, pushes back off of the car, and opens the passenger door. 'Your carriage awaits, Sir.' he says mockingly and Cas rolls his eyes before climbing into the car. 'Do I get to find out where we're going yet?' he asks as Dean falls easily into the seat next to him. 'Course not, where's the fun in that?' Dean says, flashing him another sideways grin. 'You'll like it though, I swear.' 'It's not another comic convention is it? You know I hate those-' Dean waves away his protest and says, 'Look, if I say you're gonna like it, you're gonna like it. Alright?' 'Fine.' says Cas turning to look out the window, and Dean can tell he's concealing a smile.
They pull up a few hours later in an empty field and climb out of the Impala. Standing in the mud surrounded by damp chilly air, Dean suddenly feels kind of embarrassed for making out this was a big deal. 'I'm- uh, I'm a little late, but I owed you a date.' He waves towards the night sky. 'Stargazing. Tah-Dah.' Castiel's jaw drops. 'From when we were twelve? You actually remembered? Wow, Dean, you barely remember to wake up in the morning, how did you remember this?' Dean smiles, and shrugs, regaining some confidence at Cas's obvious enthusiasm. 'Guess I'm not just a pretty face after all. There's a meteor shower tonight, too, and I did some research and apparently this is the best place to see-' he breaks off at the look of happiness and slight disbelief on Castiel's face, and then finishes in a softer voice, 'C'mon, let's sit.'
They climb onto the hood of the Impala and settle back, close enough for their arms to brush together. Dean opens his hand and feels Cas's fingers splay against his palm, and they entwine their fingers together tightly. It's weird; Dean knows that this isn't how normal best friends act, and yet it's so ordinary to them that he doesn't often question it. He isn't stupid- he knows the implications, and maybe on the odd occasion he's been filled with a dizzy, light-headed feeling that makes him want to lean across and find out how Cas's chapped lips feel on his own, but mostly he keeps those kind of thoughts to himself; he likes what they have and he doesn't want to ruin it.
Dean turns his eyes to the sky, and even he has to admit the view is breathtaking; velvety black bespeckled with countless, gently twinkling points of light. 'It should be starting soon.' He says, and right on time there's a flash of light across the sky. Cas's lips part slightly in surprise, and then he laughs gently in wonder. Dean squeezes his hand slightly and says, 'So why don't you tell me about those stars, then?' And Cas does. Just like he did 6 years ago, he lifts his free hand up to paint the images in the sky, and he names each star and constellation in turn, before launching into an explanation about white dwarves and red giants and the thermonuclear fusion of hydrogen, whatever that means- Dean loses track after a few minutes. The soft rumble of Cas's voice and the occasional warmth of breath on his cheek when Cas turns to look at him, combined with the general contentment that comes with lying on the hood of your car with your best friend watching the stars, eventually lulls him into a dozing half sleep.
After a while, the sudden absence of Cas's voice wakes Dean, who opens his eyes to see Cas watching his face carefully, and not even attempting to pretend otherwise. Cas's face is barely inches away from his own and the awe in his eyes is enough to make Dean feel giddy. 'Hey,' he says weakly, 'Don't you have some stars to be looking at?' 'I don't know Dean.' replies Cas softly, and he brushes a finger across the freckles on the bridge of Dean's nose and up his left cheek. 'There are plenty of them to look at right here.' Dean plans to make a snarky comment about how corny that sounds, but it seems to get lost in translation and instead he's leaning across and kissing Cas as gently as he can, or maybe Cas kisses him; its hard to tell, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that Castiel's mouth is sweet and slightly surprised against his own, and that it feels like everywhere Cas's fingertips trace across his skin they leave a trail of miniature supernovas. When they finally break apart, neither of them make any effort to untangle their limbs. Cas lets his head drop into the crook of Deans neck, and for a while they just lay entangled together listening to the sounds of each other breathing. 'Hey, Dean?' whispers Cas, 'Thank you.' Dean smiles slightly, absent-mindedly tracing patterns onto the back of Cas's hand. 'What for?' 'For the stars.'