Dean drags himself into the kitchen, blinking sleep from his eyes and stumbling slightly in his sock feet. Castiel looks up from where he stands over the stove and a small grin tugs at his lips as he notices Dean's bedhead. Dean grabs his favorite mug from the cupboard before sloppily pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot Cas had made. Dean plops into one of the three barstools with a loud yawn.
"Do you want any eggs, Dean?" Castiel asks, stirring around the scrambled eggs he has been cooking.
"Mmmm," Dean hums with a nod as he scoops an ungodly amount of sugar into his drink. "How about bacon?"
Castiel sighs with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not a short-order cook, Dean."
Dean frowns, arguing, "C'mon, Cas. All you do is slap the bacon on a skillet and cook it for, like, five seconds."
"Well, I'd tell you to make it yourself, but I'm not even sure we have bacon…" Castiel says, scraping scrambled eggs onto two plates before replacing the skillet onto the stove.
"What?" Dean sounds far more devastated than he should over the fact that they are out of bacon.
Castiel opens the fridge and peers inside, rifling through the drawer the bacon is usually in. He shakes his head as he halfway closes the door to look at Dean. "We don't have bacon, but we have those little breakfast sausages? I could make those for you?"
Dean swallows a drink of coffee, now visibly more awake. "What happened to you 'not being a short-order cook'?" he asks with a playful smirk.
Castiel closes the refrigerator and gives Dean the most dramatic eye-roll the man has ever seen. He then smiles, responding, "I dunno, I guess I kinda like you." He leans across the bar and gives Dean a quick kiss over the steaming coffee and plate of eggs.
Dean hums into the kiss, looking like a love-struck puppy when Castiel pulls away. "You don't have to make me the sausages," he says, scooping some scrambled eggs into his mouth.
Castiel shrugs and plops a few of the sausages onto the skillet before sitting next to Dean. He sips his coffee slowly, keeping an eye on the sausages. Once they are done, Dean stands and scrapes them onto his plate before returning to his spot beside Cas. "Want any?" he asks, nudging the plate closer to Cas.
Castiel chews his eggs and shakes his head 'no.' Dean shrugs and stuffs one of the sausages into his mouth. He grimaces, realizing too late that the sausage was still fiery hot from the stove. He painfully chews, mouth open at times to try to release some heat. Castiel snorts at the display and Dean shoots him a scowl before swallowing. Castiel pretends to ignore the look as he sips his coffee.
"That was disgusting," he comments through a chuckle.
"Whatever, my mouth was on fire." Dean defends himself.
Castiel nods quietly with a breathy laugh. "You're ridiculous."
"You know you love it,"
"I do."
"Love you, too, Cas."