The candles had to be pink – Dean was very insistent upon that. "Girls love pink shit," he said, trying hard to suppress a mischievous grin. "And who's the biggest girl we know?"
"Sam?" Castiel said dubiously, and was rewarded with a full-fledged smile.
"Sam," Dean confirmed, bounding off to the cupboard in hopes of finding a bottle of sprinkles hiding there.
Castiel carefully counted out forty very egregiously pink candles and began to arrange them in an orderly fashion, like little pink-helmeted soldiers marching in formation around the perimeters of the (only slightly) lopsided cake he had made from scratch earlier that day. The icing was homemade too, as fluffy and as white as a cloud... as white as angel wings...
Not liking where that thought was leading him, Castiel jabbed a candle in a bit deeper than he'd intended. A little blossom of golden crust peeked through the icing. Castiel sighed and withdrew the candle, smoothing the ruffled spot with his index finger, and then absentmindedly scratching the tip of his nose.
"I can't turn my back on you for two minutes?" Dean's amused voice purred in his ear, as a warm hand captured his and drew the icing-coated digit up to an even warmer mouth. Dean's tongue swirled around Castiel's finger as answering tendrils of heat happily curled around the ex-angel's heart.
"Honestly, Cas," Dean mock-chided, leaning in closer to lick the frosting from Castiel's nose. And, then, just to be perfectly sure he hadn't inadvertently missed a spot, he licked his way into Castiel's mouth.
"Mmmmm," Castiel murmured in approval.
"We have an hour before Sam arrives," Dean said.
"But... the candles..."
"Forget 'em."
"And I still haven't found the party hats..."
"Party hats are lame."
"Dean..."
Dean tilted his head to a matching angle. "Cas..." he replied in a deadpan drawl.
Castiel's steel-eyed gaze refused to waver.
"Okay. Fine!" Dean grabbed the remaining candles and haphazardly staggered them around a crookedly written 'Sammy'. It was supposed to read 'Samantha' in keeping with the surprise party's girly theme, but someone who would remain nameless (a certain green-eyed someone) had severely misjudged the available space and they'd had to make do.
"Hey!" Castiel protested.
"I hid the hats in the Impala's trunk," Dean confessed. "We have fifty-eight minutes before Sam gets here."
"Then we should not waste another second of that time," Castiel wisely advised.
Dean grabbed Castiel's hand, fully intending to make a beeline for the comfort of their king-sized bed, but Castiel looped his other arm around Dean's neck and drew him into a deliciously sloppy kiss. Dean backed Castiel up against the nearest wall... Castiel tore off Dean's shirt... Dean deftly unzipped Castiel's fly... And, suddenly, their private party was happening right there on the kitchen floor.
When Sam showed up half an hour early, no one was left in doubt that he was surprised: he screamed like a little girl and his face turned pinker than the candles on the cake. But he only had himself to blame for any mental scarring that he incurred. He honestly should have known his brother well enough to call ahead and announce his change of plans. At the very least, he should have knocked.