The party wasn't Castiel's idea.
In fact, there wasn't supposed to be any party at all. Castiel just felt like baking and so he invited Charlie to come and try his new apple pie recipe and maybe spend some time with him because it's been ages since they hung out together. But then Charlie got all excited and suggested a board games party, of all things. And, because Castiel actually enjoys playing Talisman, he agreed.
He didn't expect Charlie to invite other guests, though.
Of course, he knew they needed some more people to play. Two couldn't play this game, that was obvious. But fifteen couldn't, either.
And this is how Castiel finds himself in the middle of his own room, surrounded by people whom he doesn't know (or he knows their names but this is where their acquaintance ends. He's never even dreamed of hosting all these people in his own flat, let alone talking with them. He's not exactly what you'd call popular).
And now Charlie left him alone and went talking with some girl she's been eyeing up all evening. Anna is gone, too, because she needed to take care of some student council matters. Balthazar couldn't make it tonight. And Castiel doesn't even want to talk with Gabriel—he's been absorbing candy, ice cream, and sickeningly sweet drinks all evening so he's probably so high on sugar he would do nothing but tease him.
And this is why Castiel sneaks out of the room and hides in a much quieter kitchen. His studio flat is small but the kitchen is quite spacious, well furnished, and really cosy. He usually spends his whole days here, either studying, cooking (and baking, for that matter) or just drinking tea and relaxing.
He's in the middle of preparing his fourth (or is it fifth?) drink with vermouth and sprite when he hears the door of his room close and then someone enters the kitchen. For a second, Castiel just stands there, staring at him with eyes wide because this is Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester is in his kitchen. They are alone in Castiel's kitchen. Just the two of them. He and Dean Winchester.
He knew Dean was here, of course. Dean's a friend of Charlie (somehow) and she failed to mention she invited him but Castiel is not blind. Quite the contrary. The minute Dean came into his flat Castiel choked on his drink and had to excuse himself and go the bathroom. Because Dean is popular. Even more than that, he's popular and liked, which is a rarity among people like him. And, as it turns out, he also likes playing board games.
As if Castiel needs any more reasons to like him.
So this is why he just stands there, in his kitchen, and stares at Dean, who stares back at him. It is awkward and weird and Dean is probably going to run away any second now, screaming, and never wanting to look at Castiel again. And Castiel feels himself blushing and panicking so he croaks, "Hello, Dean," and then curses himself because now Dean knows he knows his name and he's probably weirded out. Even though, actually, everyone knows Dean's name because he's, well, Dean.
But as Castiel still gapes at him, Dean doesn't really look weirded out. Or scared. Or disgusted. He actually sends a small smile Castiel's way and asks, "Hey, man, could I, um, use your bathroom?"
Castiel knows he's a little drunk already but he also knows Dean's been drinking, too, so he doesn't spend much time obsessing over the fact that Dean is talking to him. Instead, he points out to the bathroom door in the hall.
"Thanks, man," Dean says and he smiles again. Castiel leans heavily on the kitchen counter. "Why're you here, anyway? The game's not over yet."
Castiel gestures to his unfinished drink. "I just needed to replenish my glass," he says and winces. Who on earth uses a word 'replenish' in casual conversations? Oh, yes. He does.
Dean doesn't seem to care, though. "Fair enough. In fact," he glances at the beer bottle in his hand, lifts it to his lips, and chugs down all that is left, "mine's empty, too." And then he grins.
Castiel flushes red, trying not to stare at Dean's wet lips. "Oh," is all he says.
"Got one more in your fridge. Huh. That's weird. You know, that there's my beer in your fridge," Dean babbles and Castiel realises Dean's probably a bit more drunk than he is.
He also agrees with Dean. Yes, it is weird. But he doesn't mind.
"Oh, hey. Do you have any of that pie left?" Dean asks suddenly and Castiel tilts his head.
"I do. Why?"
"'Cause it's delicious. I mean, like, delicious, dude. Could I have some more?" Dean looks at him with bright green eyes and Castiel nearly melts.
"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll cut you a piece," he assures.
"Awesome." Dean grins again and then gestures vaguely at something over his shoulder. "Gotta go find that bathroom, then. I'll need some more room for the pie." He sets his empty bottle on the counter and turns to leave.
"Dean," Castiel calls, and he probably shouldn't say his name so often but he really, really can't help himself. "Do you want whipped cream with that?"
"You bet!" Dean says from the hall and then he disappears in the bathroom.
Castiel finishes preparing his drink and opens the fridge for some ice cubes when he notices a bottle of beer that must be Dean's, so he takes it out and puts it on the counter. Then he drops ice into his glass and reaches for the pie. He's still struggling with cutting an even slice of the pastry when Dean comes back to the kitchen.
"Ugh, I hate cutting it," Castiel mutters, surprising himself. He's not really the one for sharing, especially not with strangers.
Dean doesn't seem to mind, though. "Same here, man," he says as he stands at Castiel's elbow and Castiel is suddenly hyper aware of his own body. He just prays he doesn't slip and cut off his own finger. Then Dean chuckles, low under his breath, and Castiel nearly does. "Cutting a pie is not a piece of cake," he states.
Castiel looks up at him, the knife forgotten, and then snorts inelegantly. Dean laughs louder, too, and for a moment they both just stand there, above the pie, and laugh hysterically. Castiel finally manages to cut a more or less even slice and puts it on a clean plate.
Dean shakes his head. "Oh fuck, I'm so dumb sometimes," he says and giggles. Castiel glances at him because, oh god, Dean Winchester just giggled, and then retrieves a fork from the drawer. He stares at the pie on the plate and frowns.
"Whipped cream," he realises and makes a move to reach to the fridge but Dean pats him on the shoulder.
"I got it," he says, opens the fridge, and peeks inside. "Hey, where's my beer?"
"It's here." Castiel grabs the bottle and hands it to Dean. Dean hands him a can of whipped cream in return and they both smile. Then Castiel turns to the pie because he can feel his cheeks going bright red. He tops the slice with a generous amount of cream, sticks the fork in it, and pushes the plate in Dean's direction.
"Whoa, dude, that's a lot of whipped cream," Dean laughs and scoops some of it on his fork. "I can't really believe I'm sayin' it but it's actually too much whipped cream, and usually there's no such thing as too much whipped cream. And I feel like if I say whipped cream one more time, it's not gonna sound like a word anymore." He wrinkles his nose and reaches with the fork in Castiel's direction. Castiel is frozen in place and staring at the freckles on Dean's nose. "Whipped cream," Dean repeats and shoves the fork at Castiel who has half a second to decide if he should open his mouth. He really should if he wants to avoid having whipped cream smeared all over his face, and he does, so he opens his mouth and Dean actually feeds him whipped cream, and some of it ends up in the corner of his mouth anyway, and Castiel reaches out and puts his hand over Dean's to guide the fork deeper and he's dumbstruck and they're staring at each other and—
And then, of all things, he moans, because oh god, he really likes whipped cream. And he still has his hand over Dean's hand and Dean's looking at him with a weird expression on his handsome face. And suddenly Castiel's brain catches up with what's happening and he chokes a bit but manages to swallow everything and he takes his hand away. Dean pulls back, too, taking the fork with him and looking down at the pie on his plate. And then he glances back at Castiel, puts the fork in his pie, and takes a bite.
With the fork that's just been in Castiel's mouth.
Castiel gasps.
Dean swallows the first bite, his eyes widen, and he dives back in, and again, and again, and Castiel is transfixed, staring at Dean devouring his pie.
"Man, this is so good," Dean says with his mouth full. "Didja make it yourself?"
Castiel licks his lips absent-mindedly, tasting the cream that was still on his face. "I did," he answers slowly.
"Oh, man," Dean straight-out moans around the next forkful and it goes directly into Castiel's lower parts so he reaches for his glass to distract himself. But then Dean puts his empty plate on the counter and states, "It's like porn in my mouth," and Castiel has trouble swallowing his drink.
"Glad you like it," he mutters, setting the glass down again because, seriously, it's safer not to hold it while Dean's talking.
"I loved it," Dean assures him and takes a swig of his beer. "You should throw parties like that more often, you know."
"It's wasn't really my idea," Castiel says and glances at him. Dean is already looking at him
"Well, but it's your pie." And then he puts his hand on Castiel's shoulder as if to pat him but the hand just kind of stays there for a moment, and Dean's looking him in the eyes and smiling brightly and Castiel just smiles back because what else can he do. "And Cas, lemme tell you, it's heavenly."
He knows his name.
Before Castiel has time to process that thought, Dean winks at him and leaves.