A/N: I got this prompt from Anon on Tumblr:

'dean getting excited about forks and roman humors him.'

No slash. Just Ambreigns fluff.

This is the first time I've written Ambreigns, please review :)

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost," Roman replied, glancing at Dean in the rearview mirror.

"How much longer until we're there?"

"Not much longer."

Roman was doing his best to reassure Dean, knowing how much this trip meant to him. They had moved into their first apartment together as a couple that weekend, introducing Dean to the new and unfamiliar world of domesticity. Roman thought his boyfriend's excitement was cute, and was trying to remain patient with him. They had grown up in two very different environments – his defined by a loving and supportive family, while Dean's had been devoid of any real parental figures – and were slowly learning how to mesh their own little family together in light of those differences.

"Yeah, but like, how many minutes?"

"Do you want me to turn this car around?"

"No, no, no!"

"Then sit back like a good little backseat passenger."

"Still don't know why you made me sit back here," came the muttered reply.

Roman didn't have to look at Dean to know that he was pouting.

"Because you couldn't control yourself and kept sticking your head out the window like a dog," Roman explained, smiling at the memory of Dean with the wind ruffling through his hair and his tongue hanging out as they sped along the highway. "I didn't want to be distracted by your adorable ass. You needed a time out."

"Did not…"

"You can quit pouting now, we're here."

"YAY!"

Turning in his seat, Roman raised his eyebrows and asked, "Are you going to behave yourself?"

Dean twisted his mouth in contemplation, his fingers fidgeting with his belt as he stared right back, something resembling mischievous defiance in his eyes.

"…Yeah. Mostly."

Unable to hide his grin, Roman leaned over and pulled Dean in for a soft kiss.

"I'm so happy we're taking this step together. There's no one else I'd rather make a home with."

Dean's cheeks instantly caught some colour. He ducked his head to try and hide that fact, mumbling, "Me too."

Although articulate, Dean had a tendency to lose his words when it came to expressing his emotions. But that was okay. Roman could read his body language and behaviour, and understood what every tilt of Dean's head and erratic movement of his beautiful body was intended to convey.

"Enough with the mushy shit, let's go!"

Dean took off running, almost colliding with an elderly man as he pushed his cart toward his car, in his eagerness to get inside the store. Roman quickly caught up with him, and apologised on behalf of his boyfriend. He then placed a palm at the nape of Dean's neck - partly to prevent him from getting lost in the IKEA maze, and partly because he knew that particular touch calmed him down.

"Alright baby, what do you want to check out first?"

"Mmmm, this way," Dean replied, grabbing a fistful of Roman's shirt and dragging him down an aisle to their right.

"Cutlery?"

Roman hadn't thought that it would be top of Dean's list, but he was happy to play along.

"Yep," Dean answered, smacking his lips together as he perused a case in front of him, picking up forks of various sizes and pricking them lightly into the pads of his fingertips, testing their sturdiness.

"What do you look for in a fork, hmmm?" Roman slipped behind Dean, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling into his neck as he continued to watch him examining the utensils.

"It's gotta be strong, obviously. Able to endure a lot of shit. Being banged on the table, being stuck into the grizzliest meat, being chewed on. Every fork's got a different character. They're like people."

Roman stopped kissing his way up Dean's neck, surprised and a little bit confused by that response.

"Which one's a Dean fork?"

"This one," he replied instantly, holding up one with slightly crooked prongs. "It ain't the prettiest, but it's built to last."

"I don't agree with you on the pretty thing, but I follow. Which one's a Roman fork?"

"Mmm, this one. Sterling silver, top of the line. Beautiful to look at, and functional to boot."

Roman snorted out a laugh, never ceasing to be amused by his boyfriend's little eccentricities.

"I think we should get both."

"Woah, woah, woah, hold up. We gotta test one more thing."

"Yeah? What's that?"

Dean held up both forks and slotted them together at the prongs, sliding them up and down, in and out, humming in satisfaction.

"Just like I thought."

"What are you doing?"

Dean turned his head, a distinctive gleam in his eye. "I had to test out their chemistry. See if they worked well together."

"They have to have chemistry?"

"Yep. They're gonna be forking all the time. I needed to know that they'd make a good match."

Roman watched the hypnotic movement of the forks in Dean's hand, suddenly interested in a whole other kind of forking.

"Come on, let's grab what we need and get out of here."

"What's the rush? We just got here, big man."

Roman nipped at Dean's earlobe and whispered gruffly, "That may be so, but we've got a bed that needs to be christened and you've got an ass that needs to be forked."

Dean pondered the proposition for a second, "Yeah, we're done here. Let's go."

A/N: Reviews are appreciated.