Thanks again guys, I love you all! Two more left!


October 6, 2015

It was amazing how much difference a week could make.

Dean had finally gotten out of the hospital on September 29th, and had expected to feel good the minute he walked through his front door.

That hadn't been the case, of course, as it took Sam and Benny practically carrying him to even get in the house. He'd been parked on the couch, and pretty much stayed there. The first two nights, he and Cas had slept in Ben's bedroom on the first floor, because he simply didn't have the strength to make it up the stairs, and Cas was still a little shaken by the whole experience, not really wanting to let Dean out of his sight.

A week later, and everything was different. While he still wasn't cleared to go back to work, he was barely coughing, and sitting on the couch and folding laundry was no longer exhausting, although he was still forbidden from going down to the basement to get the clean clothes or from carrying the baskets up to their bedroom.

He was happily rewatching Firefly, folding tees and jeans and stuff, and the windows were open, a breeze ruffling the curtains.

Dean was pretty sure he'd never take fresh air for granted ever again. Two weeks in the hospital pretty much ensured that.

Cas had gone back to work the day before, and Dean was actually enjoying being alone after three weeks of being watched like a hawk. And, since he was feeling so much better, he planned on making Cas dinner for once.

Dean finished the laundry, stacking it neatly in the basket, and shut off the TV, switching the stereo on instead.

He hummed along with Styx's Renegade, opening the fridge and pulling out pork chops, mushrooms, white wine, butter and parmesan. Next, he pulled out a heavy cast iron dutch oven, setting it on the burner and turning it on to medium heat.

Dean sang under his breath, coating the chops with salt and pepper, chopping onions, mushrooms, mincing garlic, and stripping rosemary and thyme leaves from their branches. He dropped a generous pat of butter in the pan, and a bit of olive oil, then dropped the chops in. When they were brown on both sides, he dumped the veggies and herbs in, and the entire bottle of white wine.

While the chops cooked down, he moved the laundry baskets over to the base of the stairs, staring up and contemplating whether or not he could make it up the stairs with one. Then, he pictured losing his balance and Cas finding him in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Nope. Not worth it.

Pie.

He would make pie instead.

An hour and a half later, there was a sweet potato pie in the oven, the chops were close to done, and asparagus spears had been washed, trimmed, and tossed with salt, pepper, garlic, lemon zest, and olive oil, and were in the other side of the oven.

Polenta was next, and he filled a deep pot with water, stirring the cornmeal in and bringing it to a boil.

The door opened and Cas stepped into the house, sniffing the air appreciatively. "You cooked!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah. I was feeling pretty good, so I thought I'd make dinner."

Cas came over and stood behind him, arms wrapping around Dean's waist. "I love it when you cook."

"Sometimes I forget how much I enjoy it. You're much better at it than I am."

"Bull. We just have different styles. Your's is simpler, heartier."

"Which is your way of saying not at as fancy?" Dean asked ruefully.

"Exactly. And that's a compliment."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," Cas said firmly. He hooked his chin on Dean's shoulder, fingers sliding under Dean's tee. "You are still way too skinny. I'm going to make so much pie. Gonna fatten you up."

"Oh, pie! I almost forgot!" He grabbed an oven mitt, "got one in the oven."

Cas let him go, and he opened the oven door, reaching in and pulling out the pie.

"Wow! You really did cook."

"Yup, and I folded all the laundry. I've been productive today."

"Wow!"

"And," Dean smiled, grabbing the parmesan and a grater, "sit down, because dinner is ready, and I'm serving." He shaved parmesan into the polenta, and dished some onto two plates, with some asparagus, and one chop a piece. He spooned the mushroom and onion from the chops over the polenta, then carried both plates to the already set table.

"Wow, this looks amazing. I'm impressed babe. I owe you a bubble bath later."

"Oh, hell yeah," Dean said happily.

Dinner and dessert were lovely, both of them enjoying time spent together, talking, fingers touching, and the meal was very good. It had actually turned out better than Dean had expected.

After, they cleaned up together, and Cas carried the laundry up the stairs. Working together, they put all of the clean clothes away.

"Bath time?"

"Mmhmm," Dean nodded.

Cas disappeared into the bathroom, while Dean finished changing their sheets. Evening had fallen while the chores were done, and now it was dark out, but still mild and breezy. Dean stared out the big window, looking out into the night sky, a rosy glow of sunset still on the horizon.

For the first time in several months, he felt calm, and at peace. It was a welcome feeling.

Arms wrapped around his waist. "C'mon, babe, tub's ready."

They undressed and crawled into the bubbly water together. Dean leaned back against Cas, warm and comfortable, breathing in the apple-y smell of the bubble bath.

"Have you ever turned on the jets with bubble bath?" Cas asked.

"Uh...Ben did once. Huge mess. Why?"

Cas chuckled, reached out and pushed the button. The jets rumbled to life and the bubbles instantly started growing. "Whoa, Cas, what're you doing? This is gonna make a huge mess."

"Live a little."

Dean couldn't help but laugh, as the bubbles grew even more. "Holy shit, this is nuts!" He shifted his body to the other side of the tub, looking back at Cas, who was making a beard out of the bubbles.

"What are you doing, you crazy nut?"

"Bubble beard!"

"Jeez, Cas, what are you, four?"

Cas reached out, hand full of bubbles, and sculpted a beard on Dean's chin. "Aw, look at you. Now we're both bubble beards!"

Dean laughed, and Cas kissed him, straddling his thighs in the tub.

"Mmm, you look good with a bubble beard," he murmured, leaning in to kiss him.

The bubbles were taking over, spilling out of the tub and onto the floor, but Cas was too busy kissing him for either one of them to care. Dean fumbled blindly for the jet switch and turned it off.

Cas wouldn't stop kissing him. And he wasn't complaining.

"Let's go to bed," Cas growled in his ear. "Want you, been so long…"

"Hasn't been that long," Dean protested.

"Two months."

"No…" Dean looked up at Cas.

"Weekend of Adam's wedding."

Dean did a few rapid calculations in his head. "Oh shit. Damn, I didn't realize."

"Well, you were spending so much time at work, and then you were sick…" Cas murmured into his neck, biting gently.

"Oh," Dean said quietly, face flushing with embarrassment.

"Hey," Cas said, pulling back, blue eyes intense. "None of that. It's over. We're making it better. None of that." He stood, reaching a hand down for Dean. "Now, come on. Let's go wreck those clean sheets."

Dean smiled, letting Cas pull him to his feet. They stepped out of the tub together, still wrapped around each other, kissing and touching, and completely forgetting about the bubbles that had spilled onto the floor.

Cas slipped first, and Dean desperately tried to keep him upright, then his foot slipped as well, and both of them tumbled to the floor, Dean on his back, Cas looming over him.

"Oh, fuck, ow," Dean groaned.

Neither one of them were really hurt, and both were laughing too hard to do much of anything other than lay there and stare at each other.

Cas reached down, scooping a handful of bubbles into his hand and sculpting Dean's hair with them. Dean giggled and reached for his own handfuls, reaching up and making ears with bubbles and Cas's dark hair.

"You look ridiculous," Dean said happily.

"Not looking much better there, pal." He leaned down and claimed Dean's lips again. "God, I love you. Love you so much," he whispered, hiding his face in Dean's neck. "Was so scared, Dean."

There was hot wetness against his neck, and Dean realized Cas was crying.

"Hey, Cas, it's ok. I'm ok."

"I know," Cas sniffled, "and I'll get over it. I will. I was just so fucking scared, Dean. And it's like, it didn't really hit me until now. And you're better, I shouldn't be..."

"Ssh, Cas, it's ok. It's ok." He rubbed his hands over Cas's back, while his husband sniffled into his neck.

They laid there for a while, until Dean began to shiver, and Cas pulled him off the floor, wrapping him in a towel.

"Love you, Cas," Dean said, thumbing a tear off his cheek, and kissing his forehead. "Let's go break this losing streak, ok?"

"Ok."

Cas smiled and let Dean lead him to bed.