Got a prompt about eating ice cream from otpprompts on tumblr and this is what my mind came up with. Cute Destiel fluff, kid fic. Leave a review :)

Dean reckons for two kids who, in his mother's words, "live in each other's pockets", he and Cas are actually pretty different. Cas wears his miniature trench coat, Dean his small leather jacket that his dad bought him when Dean helped him fix the tyre when that lady broke down (the lady couldn't believe he was only eight but Dean's been helping his dad out with the cars since he can remember toddling about.) Cas is always getting awards and stuff from school for spelling and math and anything else they do, Dean's always being sent to stand in the corridor until he can "curb his wilder impulses" which generally means something like not throwing paint around in art class until half of it ends up in Meg Masters' hair (but in Dean's defence, that bitch-which is a word he's heard on TV-had kicked Cas when he'd thrown the Valentine card she made him away, so she deserved it.) Dean hangs out with a load of other kids as well as Cas, while Cas-although he's what you'd call friendly with most of the kids Dean is now (thanks to Dean)-mostly sticks with Dean, sometimes Sammy as well, when he's hanging around.

So, maybe he and Cas look kind of odd together, Dean's worked out. But it doesn't matter. It's never mattered, not since the day that they were standing in the kindergarten playground together, that first day of school and Dean had noticed that weird kid in the trench coat, standing stock still, eyes fixed on the ground, and when he glanced over and saw that the kid hadn't moved for the past ten minutes, had decided to find out what he was staring at.

He'd headed over and said. "Hey."

Castiel-Dean hadn't known that was his name, then-had looked up. "Hey" he'd said slowly, as if he wasn't sure how the word would sound in his mouth.

Dean hadn't known how to ask the question casually so he'd just blurted out "So, what are you doing?"

Castiel had turned to stare at him, with his head tilted to the side in that weird way he still has, and had said, very seriously "Do you think ants have memories?"

Now, that was, admittedly, a very weird question to hear, and not entirely what Dean had expected. But then again, Cas had been the only kid standing alone in the playground, staring at the ground like it might wave to him, so to be fair, Dean didn't know what he had expected.

And it was kind of a cool question, when he thought about it.

So, he'd said. "Don't know. What about you?"

Castiel had visibly brightened. "I think they do" he'd said, with this smile tugging at his mouth. This smile and it had changed his whole face. Dean had blinked when he saw it. "You see, they probably think we are very strange and that we don't have memories."

Dean had stared at the kid. He'd wanted to think of something really cool and clever to say but nothing had come to mind.

So, instead, he'd held out his hand. "My name's Dean."

Castiel had stared at Dean's hand for a moment before Dean said "You shake it."

"Why?" and Castiel's eyes had narrowed as he stared at Dean's hand like it was a rather interesting science experiment.

Dean had shrugged. "Don't know. People just do."

Castiel had frowned but then he had slowly taken Dean's hand, moving it rather stiffly up and down, and it had been a struggle for Dean not to laugh, he looked so serious.

"My name's Castiel" he had said and Dean had blinked. "Castiel?"

"Yes." Castiel had given him one of those confused looks, those eyes narrowed again and Dean had shrugged. There were probably weirder names.

"Castiel" he'd said, giving the other boy's fingers a quick squeeze before he let go. "Cas."

Castiel had smiled at him again. That smile, with those eyes. And that had been it. As Dean's mom put it, they had lived in each other's pockets ever since.

But one thing they agree on is ice cream, which is why they're now walking back from the ice cream parlour, each licking a chocolate double-special from Dairy Queen. It's been their treat each Friday afternoon, since the end of the first week of first grade, when their moms had let them stop off for an ice cream for Dean making it through the first week without being sent out of class once. Ever since then, it's been their "thing", the way Sammy, at age five, has to have a bag of potato chips at each lunch. Dean and Cas have ice cream each Friday. Fact of life.

Castiel is staring at his ice cream as if it has offended him. Dean would guess that it's the wrong flavour, if he didn't know Cas does this every Friday. It's a Cas thing, like wearing that trench coat his brother gave him constantly or the fact that he cries at the end of Disney movies, and doesn't like Dean to see.

"What's up?" he says and waits for whatever the answer will be this week.

"I enjoy these sprinkles" says Castiel. Of course he does. Cas always finds some little feature of the ice cream to comment on. The pleasing shape of the cone. The way the scoop fits just so. It's as if Cas has never seen an ice cream before.

"Yeah? What's so cool about them?" Cas can take ages with an ice cream, remarking about every inch of it, like he's trying to preserve it in his mind forever. Dean just shoves the thing in his mouth.

"I like the colours" says Cas, after another minute of silence. Of course he took another minute to answer. Dean's just about to ask whether he wants to write a whole review of the ice cream and send it to the restaurant, since he's so thorough, when there's a plopping sound and he looks down to see what is undeniably a scoop of ice cream lying on the ground.

Castiel is staring down at it with his bottom lip pushed out. He looks slowly to his now empty ice cream cone, and then back at the ground, where the scoop of ice cream is now melting in the fall sunshine.

"Aw, Cas." Dean gives him a swift elbow in the chest. He's half-tempted to laugh at the pushed-out lip. It looks exactly like Sammy when he's told he can't have a candy bar at the convenience store.

Cas looks up and those eyes are getting bigger. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"My ice cream is on the floor."

Dean's about to give him a sarcastic clap when he notices that Castiel's eyes are welling with tears, and he glances away quickly. "Come on, Cas" he says, before Cas can start crying. "There'll be candy at my place."

"Yes." Castiel's voice is pitched slightly higher than usual-Dean has to admit the guy has a weirdly low voice for an eight-year-old. "That is true."

It's only when they've taken another few steps that Dean hears an undeniable sniff.

"Cas?" He stops, about to take a mouthful of his own ice cream, in time to see Castiel wiping his eyes.

Dean looks at him. "Cas? You crying?"

Castiel shakes his head. "No" he says, staring in the opposite direction, as if he's trying to highlight the fact that he's lying. "I have something in my eye" he says and Dean rolls his own, because that is literally the worst excuse of all time.

"OK" he says, though, because he knows from experience the worst thing he can do when he's trying to get Cas to tell him something is to keep asking. Cas just buttons up. So, Dean takes another gulp of ice cream and walks on.

There's another small sound from next to him and Dean stops because no way, is he giving Cas his ice cream. Just no way.

But then Cas stops dead and Dean has to stop too, because he can't just leave Cas there. So he turns and puts his hand on his arm. "What's up, Cas?"

"Nothing" but Cas's voice is choked with tears and freaking hell-which is what Dean's heard his dad say when he's not supposed to be listening-Cas is cuddling the ice cream cone like a teddy, holding it against his jacket protectively.

Dean stares at him. "Dude" he says, which is what his mom hates him saying, but hell, it might make Cas smile.

It doesn't make Cas smile. Cas just stares miserably at his empty ice cream cone, and swallows, with a sniff. Another tear trickles out of his eyes.

There is no way Dean is sharing his ice cream with Cas. It isn't happening.

"Cas, come on" he says, and he puts a hand on Cas's shoulder. "Just ice cream."

Castiel swallows. "I know" he says but the word comes out as a hiccup and Dean stares at him. Damp blue eyes, with eyelashes spiky from tears, stare back at him.

Dean looks at his ice cream and then at Castiel.

Dean is not...going to share his ice cream?

"I like Fridays" and Cas's voice cracks in his throat. "I like going to Dairy Queen."

"Dude, I know. There'll be other Fridays."

"I liked those sprinkles." Castiel scrubs at his eyes with one hand, his cheeks flushed and damp. "They were arranged in a pleasing pattern."

Dean stares at Cas. "Cas-" He glances at his ice cream. Then at Cas. Then at the ice cream again.

Dean isn't...

Cas stares at him. Big blue eyes. That staring thing he does. Cas, tears trickling down his cheeks.

Man.

Dean slowly hands his ice cream to Cas. Cas stares at it as if he's never seen one before. "Dean?" he says, and his voice rises in a question.

"Here, Cas" and Dean finds it harder to meet his eyes this time. "It's not got the same sprinkles but you can have it."

Castiel sniffs. "I cannot take your ice cream, Dean" he says, even though he's licking his lips absently while he stares at it.

Dean sighs. "You're not taking it. We'll-look-" and he takes a mouthful out of the other side. "We'll share it, OK?" And with anyone else, it would be kind of gross, but this is Cas. It's Cas and that makes all the difference.

Castiel stares. "Dean-"

And Dean takes his hand and puts the ice cream cone in it. "Here" he says and Castiel swallows and nods. "It's ours. OK?"

Castiel nods and then slowly, cautiously, takes a mouthful. His eyes brighten instantly and he takes another mouthful. "This is good ice cream, Dean" he seems to decide and Dean smirks. "Yeah?"

"Yes" says Castiel, and he takes another lick. "It is almost as pleasing as mine.

"Jeez, thanks, Cas."

"You're welcome, Dean" and Dean takes a look at Cas's face, eyes wide and completely sincere, and he just has to laugh.

"What is it, Dean?" says Castiel and the tilt of the head makes Dean start laughing all over again. Because it's...Cas. Cas is just...Cas.

He shakes his head. "Nothing" and he grabs the ice cream back and takes a lick of his own. "Give me a lick, go on."

And that's how they walk home, Dean and Cas, with an ice cream held between them. They each take turns taking mouthfuls, and when they get to the end, when they've taken turns crunching down the cone, their fingers somehow end up wrapped around each other. And somehow, they don't pull away.

It's when they get to the bottom of Dean's path, that Castiel puts his hands on Dean's shoulders in that awkward half-hug he always does. "Thank you, Dean" and his voice is that low gravel sound in his throat again, though Dean can still see the traces of tears on his cheeks. "The ice-cream sharing was enjoyable."

Dean has never had any best friend other than Cas but he is fairly sure that of all the other best friends in the world, 99% of them have never ended a sentence with "The ice-cream sharing was enjoyable."

"Cool" he says, instead, and he does what he always does and pulls Cas into a quick hug, letting the other boy's head rest on his shoulder until Cas does what he always does, which is slide his arms around Dean's shoulders for a moment and squeeze.

But this time, it's different. Because this time, as he pulls away, Castiel turns his head and presses his lips to Dean's cheek, a quick, warm press of his mouth.

Dean stares at his best friend as Cas pulls away and feels his own mouth fall open a little. Cas's cheeks have flushed scarlet and for a moment, he is looking anywhere but at Dean.

"I...just wanted to thank you" he says, and Dean recognizes the oddly stiff tone Cas always adopts when he doesn't know if he's done something wrong. "For the...ice cream."

Dean swallows. "Cool" he says, and somehow, his cheeks are a lot warmer than usual and he can't think of anything really to say, but instead, he can't stop himself grinning at Cas. Grinning at Cas like an idiot.

And Cas meets Dean's eyes and gives a smile back. A shy smile, a shy little smile, with those big blue eyes.

They get their own ice creams from now on. They never have to share one again. Cas is always careful and so is Dean.

But from then on, one thing is different. From then on, every Friday afternoon, after they've swallowed the ice cream and crunched up the cone, as they walk the rest of the way home, Dean and Cas's fingers will somehow slide into each other. They don't mean to, obviously. It just...happens.

But it means that, whenever they walk home on a Friday afternoon in the light of the setting sun, they always have those same small smiles on their faces, with the taste of ice cream on their lips and their hands held tight.

Aww. Dean totally needs to share ice cream with Cas. It could make the Destiel feels explode. :)