Tumblr AU from qyill: Imagine Castiel's fourteen year old neighbor Dean constantly coming over to his house and asking Cas to make him pie because you make the best pie ever, Mr. Novak. And Cas does because Dean's so cute with his freckles and cracking voice.
The the Winchesters had to move and Dean confesses his giant crush on Cas before he has to leave.
But then years later Cas gets a knock on his door and 20-year-old Dean is back. (If you haven't seen read the AU, I'm not going to tell you the end of it ;)
Castiel stands at his kitchen sink, washing his supper dishes under the sink's steady stream. He smiles as he hears the confident knock on his front door. He already knows who it is. Turning off the kitchen sink and grabbing a hand towel, he walks to the front door to let his guest inside. "Dean? It's almost eleven o' clock at night. What are you doing here?"
The boy seems to bounce on his feet and his bright green eyes glow even brighter when he sees his neighbor wiping his hands on a dark red towel. His freckles are dark spots on his cheeks at that time of night. "I'm here for your pie, Mr. Novak. Have you got any?" Castiel moves to the side to let the boy in, nodding. At fourteen years old, Dean is shorter than Castiel by three inches, but he's already starting to grow tall.
Dean moves toward the kitchen; he already knew where it was. Castiel follows his young friend who goes strait to his refrigerator and opens it, looking on the top shelf where the pie always is. "Yes!" Dean grabs the pie from and a fork from the drawer and sits down at the snack bar.
Cas goes back to the sink and finishes washing the few dishes that were left, lining the plates into the dryer rack. Then he leans against the cabinet, watching his young friend and folding and unfolding the hand towel. Dean sits at the snack bar to the left and eats as much pie as he can hold. He doesn't say a word as he shovels the rich calories into his mouth. Castiel has long since given up trying to get him to use a plate.
Dean moans after over half the apple pie was eaten and pushes it away, laying his head into his arms. "You make the best pie ever, Mr. Novak."
Without a wife or children, Castiel was glad to have someone to share his mother's pie with. It always was one of the best things about her. Mary Virginia was a kind lady, and they were one big happy family until she died, their dad went missing, and all the siblings separated. Now, Castiel is alone in this big, empty house.
Dean picks a cinnamon-sugar crumble from the top of the uneaten part of the pie and eats it, too, his head still miserably against the cool granite counter top.
"Your mom's pie reminds me of my mom." Dean says solemnly. When his mother had died, he had been young, but old enough to remember the beautiful woman she was.
A smudge of red cherry cream clings to Dean's unhidden cheek. He sat up and looks at his older friend with a tired, satisfied smile. Castiel isn't that old, maybe twenty five or so, a youthful curl in his gelled, up-turning hair. A five o' clock shadow darkens his jaw, and he genuinely looks like a nice man with his calming smile and deep smile lines.
His blue tie dangles around his neck, undone after a long day's work at the office. His black suit jacket is draped over the back of the chair beside Dean.
"I'm glad you like it." Castiel's voice is deep, scratchy, smooth. Dean loves his voice and wishes his own voice would deepen, not that it isn't deep, but it wasn't Castiel deep. Castiel leans over the snack bar and wipes Dean's cheek with the hand towel, smirking as he removes the pie from his face.
"Thank you." Dean stands up to leave, placing the remainder of the pie back onto the top fridge shelf. The electronic clock on the wall glows midnight.
Cas follows Dean to the door. "You be good, Dean."
Dean pauses on the porch and smiles at his neighbor, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I will, Mr. Novak."