The Two Things Dean Can't Do Without

1. Taste

"Mmmm," Dean groaned, long and low.

"Dude, that is so wrong," his brother complained, sliding lower in the cheap, plastic diner seat. "You sound like you're having sex."

"He's just jealous, baby," Dean told the confection before him. "Him and his girly hair wish they had your golden crust and delicious, apple cinnamon filling," he cooed before spearing a loose slice of fruit. "That's the stuff," he moaned, closing his eyes as he savored the creation.

"What is 'the stuff'?" a voice to his left asked, startling Dean and causing him to choke.

"Cas!" he coughed, smacking his chest with a closed palm to dislodge the fruit. "How many times have I told you not to do that? You scared the hell outta me." Dean sent a green eyed glare at his laughing brother on the other side of the booth. "Shut up, Sam."

"Ahahaha!" the younger man laughed.

"I do not understand what is so funny," Castiel said, tilting his head.

"Nothin', Cas," Dean told the angel as he continued to scowl at his brother. "Sam's just being a dick." When said brother didn't stop laughing at his misfortune, Dean stood, grabbed Castiel by the elbow and headed out the door.

"Dean?" Dean heard the confused voice of his brother from behind him, laughter gone. "Dean! C'mon, don't stick me with the check! Dean!" The older Winchester shut the door with a final click, blocking out his brother's shouts. He chuckled in victory as he led Cas over to the Impala. Getting in, he glanced over at his angel – who'd mojo'd his way into the passenger seat – and saw the frustrated look on his face.

"Cas?" he waved a hand in front of the brilliant blue eyes. "Still with me?"

"Of course," Castiel replied immediately, frustrated look still in place.

"Not what I – never mind…" Dean knew a lost cause when he saw one.

"Dean, may I ask something?" the angel questioned as the eldest Winchester started his car, it's engine purring as they rolled out of the lot.

"Yeah, of course, Cas," the man responded.

"What was the sustenance on your plate?" he asked.

"The sustenance… aw, man," he tapped the wheel, annoyed. "My pie!"

"Pie?" Castiel asked, tilting his head once more, this time in order to look at Dean straight forward.

"Yeah, you know pie," Dean shrugged. He looked over at the angel as Cas gave him a blank look. "You don't know pie, do you?"

"No," Cas shook his head. "But it smelt… tantalizing."

Dean grinned. "Yeah, it was Apple Pie, it's the best kind there is," he remarked proudly. "My favorite, too," he added.

"So it tastes acceptable?" Cas asked.

"More than acceptable!" Dean ranted. "It's cinnamon and sugar and sweet tart and this buttery flaky outside," he sighed dreamily and pulled into the lot of their motel, a mere three miles from the diner. He turned off the car and turned to Cas. "Sound good?"

"I… think?" the angel didn't sound sure and Dean took it as close to blasphemy as his thought process allowed. "May I… try this pie?" he asked, hesitant at either questioning Dean once more or at eating – a thing he would have scoffed at a year ago.

"Well, I'd get you some except…" Dean paused, sliding his eyes up and down the angel next to him, before smirking. "Actually, I do know a way…" he said before pulling Castiel over by his necktie. He paused for a split second – more than long enough for the angel to pull away – before crushing his lips to Cas's. He groaned deep in his throat, licking Castiel's chapped lips. The angel let him in with a silent gasp and tugged him closer by the lapels of his jacket. Dean bit Cas's bottom lip before slipping his tongue into the angel's mouth, memorizing the crevices and the musky, savory taste of it.

After a good few minutes the two broke apart, Dean's human need for air coming between them.

"Oh," Castiel said, dazed, as he leaned his forehead up his human's. "So that's what pie tastes like."

2. Texture

"Cas," Dean purred, gripping the warm body closer to him.

The two were wrapped around each other, legs and limbs twining in a dance that only humans could know. Humans, Dean thought fondly, looking at the sleeping form, and an angel.

"Hrm, Dean," Castiel mumbled, curling tighter around the human. Dean chuckled deeply within his chest and rubbed his face against the ever present five o'clock shadow on his lover's face, loving the rough texture.

Perfect.

3. Portion

With pie, Dean could always flirt, flaunt, and plead his way to a bigger, thicker slice.

But Cas was everything he could ever want and Dean was just fine with that.

4. Love

Affection was a word Dean would use when talking about pie. He liked it more than any other food, sure, but he wouldn't say he loved it. He saved the L Word for only the most important things in his life: Mom, Dad, Sammy and Cas, though not necessarily in that order.

At that moment, Dean was watching as Cas put on yellow tights. The sight of the other man struggling with pulling the spandex above his thighs sent a wave of warm affection rushing through him. He stood, his black cape swishing about his ankles, and went to help the other man.

"C'mere, Cas," he said, voice gruff from watching the angel shimmy into the pants. He pulled Castiel towards him, back to chest, and smoothed his hands down Cas's sides. His rough palms gripped the spandex tightly and dragged it up and over Castiel's hips. "There," Dean breathed in the former angel's ear, trading his grip on the pants for slim hips.

"Dean," Cas moaned lowly. He arched back as a calloused hand travelled up to his chest and brushed a taunt nipple. "I thought you said we had to investigate that Halloween party," he protested mildly.

"It can wait," Dean responded, eyes trained on the growing bulge in the yellow spandex.

"Okay," Cas agree, voice rough.

Yeah, Dean thought, Pie's got nothin' on Cas.

Soon, he was too occupied to think much of anything, but he knew – soul deep – that if there was one thing he loved more than all others, it was Castiel and the angel alone.