It was just after they'd killed a banshee. Sam was covered in mud and cocooned in towels to stop him from dripping all over the Impala's back seat. Once they pulled up at the motel, an irate Dean tossed him the keys and ordered him to shower while he picked up some stuff. They were low on rock salt and there was no way the shitty mini-fridge in their room had kept the icepacks cold, so he ignored his aching muscles and drove to the closest convenience store.
He'd just grabbed a basket and started towards the food aisle when Cas materialized by his shoulder, earning a muffled yelp and a mutter about security cameras.
"Whatcha need, dude?" he asked, once his heartbeat was back to normal.
"Hello, Dean. I have...what is your term? 'Downtime' and I would like to spend it alongside you."
"Oh. Awesome. Heaven's back on it's feet, then?" Then, before the other man (angel, whatever) could ask what the expression meant, he explained that he and Sammy had just finished a hunt and were stocking up for the drive to the next.
"Want anything?"
Castiel debated the matter quietly while Dean stuffed bags of salt into the basket. He didn't need to eat, but some human inventions were quite pleasant and Dean seemed to like it when he tried new foods. With that in mind, he selected one of each candy bar on the shelf adjacent to him and placed them in the basket. They chatted idly about recent events, and finally came to the register.
The cashier was a solidly-built woman with a flower-patterned blouse and a bored expression.
"You together?" she pointed toward the basket.
Cas took Dean's hand in his, a small smile lighting up his face. "Yes we are."
Dean fought not to blush and coughed awkwardly. "Um, I think she meant if we're buying all this together."
"Oh. No, we are separate. Two transactions, please."
A/N: So this is just a "what if the writers caved to Destiel fans' pressure and everyone got their happily ever after?" kinda story. Inspired by a post on .