Dean's halfway through his coffee by the time Cas comes out of the coffeeshop with a cup that's way too big for coffee.

"Tell me that's quadruple espresso." He knows what the answer's gonna be before he even finishes the sentence.

"No," Cas replies simply. "It's a Pumpkin Spice Latte."

He could have lived in sweet ignorance, but no, he just had to open his mouth. "I regret asking."

Cas pushes his cup under Dean's nose. A sweet smell of not-coffee shoots up straight into his head. "Do you want some?"

Dean's upper lip rides up in distaste. "Get this off my face."

"Your loss."

"Wow. You should sue Sam for ruining your taste in coffee. And I mean real coffee."

"I don't get it, Dean." Cas looks at him weirdly. "You love sweets. What is wrong with sweet coffee? It's got whipped cream on, look."

Cas takes off the cover to reveal a partially melted island of whipped cream drifting on top of the beige liquid.

"It looks dead."

Cas rolls his eyes and covers the cup. He takes a sip and doesn't fail to make obnoxious sounds of pleasure and lick his lips. If they weren't currently walking down the semi-busy street, Dean'd say it's pornographic.

"Coffee's supposed to be strong and black and bitter as life to get you on your feet."

Cas just shrugs and keeps sipping his coffee, savoring every drop like it's some nectar of the gods he's drinking, not overpriced sugared water.

"You say that as if you couldn't like both." After a pause, he adds, "You know, it's not fair."

Dean raises an eyebrow at Cas. "What is?"

"Ever since I'm human, you've been making me try everything that you like. But when I want to share with you something I like, you oppose. Do you really think my own taste is so terrible?"

Wow, is he really trying to guilt trip Dean right now? What the hell is this? It's coffee. There's no need to play the human card.

"Give it to me," Dean grumbles nearly ripping the cup out of Cas's hand. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

Mindful of the temperature, he takes a sip and the sweetness fills up his mouth. Only it's not as terribly sweet as he thought. It's a bit spicy, as the name would suggest, and the flavors are balanced quite perfectly.

Holy shit, Dean's in love. He barely holds back the delighted moan.

Oh shit, this is bad. He's just drunk a piece of heaven, only better than heaven because actual heaven sucks. And this is like the best kind of heaven, one that there have been songs written about. And it's just coffee. And of all things, it must be the one coffee Dean's been so adamantly against trying.

Abort mission — he puts the straight face back on before pulling the cup away from his lips, no matter how much he'd love to take another sip.

"Was it so terrible?"

"I've had worse," Dean says dully as he hands the cup back to Cas. "Alright, enough of that, we've got a ghosty to burn. Hurry up," he snaps, pushing his free hand to his pocket and picking up his pace.

—

Delegating Cas to research with Sam was the best idea Dean's had all week. He's finished earlier with the witnesses of a gruesome murder, now he can have good half an hour just for himself. Sure, he could totally call Sam to check if by any chance they're ready as well so they can move on but… there is no rush, is there? It's hardly past noon and Dean hasn't drunk his second coffee today.

He finds the nearest coffeeshop without a problem. The place is quite empty for the time of day — it isn't long 'til he's stating his order and his name, passed along with a wide smile for the bearded barista.

A few moments later he's sat down comfortably, enjoying his coffee in the warmth of the place. It's damn nice, heaven in his mouth, peace in his mind and absolutely no one to bother him. He leans back into his chair, casts a passing glance towards the barista who's currently taking the order from—

Fuck.

It's Cas. Cas is there, just a few feet from Dean. As he pulls his wallet out, his eyes sweep the room in search for a free table. What they find is Dean. Of course they do.

Dean could have pretended it's not him, could have hidden his face in his palm. But it's too late now. Cas is already on his way to corner him.

"Oh, hi, Cas!" Dean chirps, hoping the guy won't notice the coffee. "Finished early, huh? You should have— Is Sam here?"

"Sam went to the motel," Cas says, taking the seat opposite Dean. "Is this a quadruple espresso?"

He's fucking grinning.

"Of course," Dean answers with his best poker face.

"Weird, it smells like—"

"Huh? It—" Dean sniffs theatrically and takes a sip—"wow, just— would you believe? They confused my order! This isn't m— must be some other Dean here."

Cas squints and moves to get off the chair. "We should take it to the ba—"

Dean slams his palm on Cas's to stop him from making a scene.

"Oh, shut up," he grunts, which obviously brings back Cas's grin, even wider than before.

"You love it, don't you?" Cas teases.

This is gonna be a long… rest of Dean's life.

"Love is a strong word," Dean explains. "I just wanted to, you know, try it in peace and quiet—"

Cas says nothing to that. He just stares at Dean in that way of his, like he fucking knows. Like he knows Dean's been sneaking out for Pumpkin Spice Latte whenever he got a chance ever since Cas, in a less than angelic fashion, revealed this actual garden of Eden to him.

He keeps staring until his name's called out, then keeps staring when he returns with his own cup.

"Alright, alright!" Dean gives up. Not even his pride is worth this torture. "It's fucking awesome, you were right. There, I said it. Now stop that."

Cas stops that, content with the forced confession. He nods with a soft smile.

"I'm glad you like it."

Dean blinks. "That all?"

"Yes."

Dean shrugs. This wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be. They can slurp on their coffees in peace, then move on and get back to—

Dean snaps his eyes back to Cas, points a finger at him, threateningly.

"If you ever tell Sam, I'll kick your ass all the way back to Heaven where they got no Pumpkin Spice Lattes. Understood?"

Cas huffs out a voiceless laugh. "Understood."