Cas knows the entire day is going to be awful the second he peels his eyes open and realizes his head feels like there's a woodpecker going to town in his skull and his throat feels like he'd swallowed a handful of thumbtacks. He sneezes twice before he even thinks about getting out of bed, and when he finally convinces his body to do that, he discovers he's unreasonably dizzy, too.

As wonderful as staying in bed sounds (well, even more so than usual), Cas does manage to force himself into a too-hot shower in hopes the billows of steam might help either his headache or his congestion. He's shivering by the time he comes out, anyway, and dresses in his warmest sweater. Cas doesn't think he can stomach toothpaste, so he reluctantly forgoes brushing his teeth.

Most days if Cas was feeling awful, he would just use the opportunity to dive back under the blankets and watch Netflix until his body is willing to function somewhat normally again. Today is not most days, however.

Today, there's supposed to be some neighborhood teenagers playing Led Zeppelin songs in the park. Why anyone would hold a makeshift concert when it's so chilly out is beyond Cas, but Dean has been looking forward to it for weeks since he found out.

Cas doesn't even really like rock music, but Dean had actually invited him, of all people, and like hell is Cas gonna pass up a chance to go anywhere with Dean, even if the traitorous part of his brain keeps swooning and thinking it's a date. But Dean is very straight, as he silently proclaims often (part of Cas thinks Dean must have uncovered his crush because there's no way he just keeps accidentally catching Dean's girlfriend, Charlie, at Dean's apartment every other time he drops by) and anyway, who would be interested in someone like him anyway? Especially someone like Dean?

Dean is funny and quick-witted and fun to be around. Dean has a little brother that he dotes on endlessly, as if Sam were his own son and he's the proud parent. Dean has a beautiful car he also dotes on endlessly and refuses to park under certain trees because he doesn't want the pollen to get stuck on the windshield. Dean is a gentleman and always holds the doors for him because he's so nice.

Dean is perfect...and Cas is just...Cas. Weird, dorky, uninteresting, fashion-sense-of-a-seventy-year-old-man Cas.

Regardless, Cas was overjoyed (and overwhelmed, to the point where he very nearly passed out even though he pretended not to and will deny it to his grave) when Dean had turned to him one day when they were in a coffee shop (Dean had even ordered his favorite for him, because Dean remembers trivial things like that) and told him about the upcoming Led Zeppelin concert. Cas had admittedly only been half listening, so he nearly fell out of his chair when Dean asked him to go with him, and then nearly took his own head off with how rapidly and forcefully he'd nodded.

The anticipation was wonderful, and Cas actually wasn't nervous for once, so it figures this is when his body decided that today is the perfect day to get sick.

He spends most of the day trying to mentally will his illness away and sleeping, and is eventually startled awake by the sound of a knock on his door. Groaning, Cas starts shuffling into a position vaguely resembling upright and vertical and goes to answer the door.

He opens it barely an inch and sees a familiar and beautiful grin on the other side.

Dean.

He slams the door shut not even a second later and puts his back against it, suddenly sweating profusely. What will Dean say when he sees how awful Cas looks? What if he doesn't even want to be seen with him?

"Cas?" Dean calls from the other side of the door, sounding amused. "What's up, buddy, aren't you dressed or something?"

"Uh, gimme a minute!" Cas manages to rasp out before rushing to the bathroom.

He splashes water on his face and hopes he looks less like death warmed over and did a somersault right on his person, but knows he fails when he now sees warmed-over death paired with a damp face. Fantastic. At least he isn't damp with sweat anymore, though.

In the end, Cas just decides to try to bundle up in that striped scarf Gabriel had given him last month as a housewarming gift even though Cas had been living here for a while; Cas knows he'd just been trying to get rid of the ugly green and purple monstrosity no matter what Gabriel says, but Cas suddenly appreciates it for the first time ever anyway.

When his face is sufficiently hidden, Cas yanks on his trench coat and finally reopens the door. Dean smiles easily as soon as it's open, but freezes when he spots the hideous scarf, because it really is quite ugly.

"Cas, what's that?" Oh no he's chuckling.

"My brother dumped it on me. I wanted to try it out," Cas says, trying his best to sound as normal as possible. He probably fails. "Should we get going?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Dean leads him down the hall to the elevator, and Cas is more than a little worried that his shaking knees won't be able to support his weight when he's moving downwards, but he somehow manages anyway. Dean holds both the front door open for Cas and the car door, because Dean is a gentleman. The action is enough to warm Cas from the inside out, even as he's forced to deal with the bite of the frigid air for a few seconds in the time it takes to go from his apartment building to Dean's car.

They end up going to a small diner. Dean had talked to him for a majority of the car ride and had probably explained the day's plans, but Cas was too busy leaning his scorching forehead against the cold window to really listen. Cas feels bad about doing this when he goes to exit the car and realizes his head and left an imprint on the window, but hopes Dean won't notice.

They sit down across from each other, and Dean smiles at the waitress (because he's straight—very, very, completely straight—and he's allowed to smile at a female and be friendly towards her) and even orders for Cas.

"Why don't you lose the scarf, Cas," Dean suggests when the waitress leaves.

"I'm cold," Cas says, and it's not entirely a lie because he is cold—but he's also hot and is just altogether miserable.

"You're sweating," Dean points out, sounding worried.

Cas just forces a stiff shrug. "My body is just conflicted. Probably the weather."

"Yeah, well, that trench coat isn't really good for this weather, Cas. I've told you that before."

"I'm fine," he replies, admiring the diner's tile floor.

Whatever Dean was about to say is cut off as their food arrives. Dean digs right in, but Cas just stares at it and wishes for a swift and inconspicuous death, because he's quite sure he won't be able to keep down anything he tries to force his body to eat and the longer he stares at his plate, the more concerned Dean looks.

"Cas, you okay? You're not looking so hot…" he mutters, and before Cas can even process his words fully, Dean is leaning across the table and placing a hand on his forehead, his cheek—but only for a second before he's yanking it back like he's been burned, which, Cas realizes, he sort of has been. "Crap, Cas, you're burning up!"

It's as if his body takes those words as permission to stop appearing to be okay and normal, because Cas then feels like his entire body is simultaneously boiling and freezing. Cas has a coughing fit that nearly sends him falling over in his chair, and probably would have gotten an up-close view of the floor if Dean hadn't shot up from his chair to catch him.


Cas isn't really sure what happened, but the next thing he knows, he's tucked up snugly in his bed again. He wonders if everything was just a horrible nightmare that his mind came up with to torment him, but the ugly scarf slung over a chair nearby alongside his trench coat made him realize that he really had just made a massive fool of himself in front of Dean on their not-date.

Cas buries his aching head in his hands and groans. Dean will never want to invite him to anything again

Suddenly, he becomes aware of Dean's head peeking around the corner of his doorway to peer into his room. Cas considers pretending he's still sleeping in hopes this is part of the nightmare, but realizes Dean already knows he's not asleep so he decides against it. Reluctantly. Very reluctantly.

"Hey, Cas, how ya feeling?" Dean asks, unexpectedly soft, as he steps into the room. Cas groans anyway, even though Dean deserves the kindest of answers in return, but Dean doesn't even comment on his lackluster responses. He's such a nice person... "Pretty bad, huh?"

Cas shrugs and nods, wondering why Dean even bothered asking. It's not like he hadn't just saved Cas from face-planting in the middle of a diner and then presumably...oh. What if...Dean had carried Cas all the way back to the car, had carried him on the elevator and up to his room?

Cas' face grows even hotter, and it only intensifies when Dean puts the back of his hand on his forehead again.

"You're very warm…" he mutters before leaving the room again.

Cas stares longingly at the window and wonders how Dean would react if he'd just jumped out of it right then. It'd surely save him some embarrassment, if nothing else…

But then Dean steps back into the room with a bowl of something that smells delicious but also makes his stomach churn. But Cas isn't about to say that, not when Dean just takes a seat on the edge of Cas' bed and helps him sit up before handing him the bowl.

Cas just stirs the warm soup inside around in the bowl, wondering if it would be more rude to refuse the soup or to eat some only to puke it up a few minutes later.

"It's tomato rice," Dean explains with uncharacteristic nervousness. Cas feels bad, so he spoons himself a bite and shakily brings the spoon up to his mouth. Dean sounds calmer when he continues, "Used to make it for Sammy all the time when he got sick. Sort of a family recipe, I guess."

"'S good," Cas manages, taking another bite.

"Thanks. Had a lot of practice," Dean tells him. "Sam must've had the wimpiest immune system on the planet. He was always gettin' sick. Twice a year, once in November and once in January. Like clockwork. Became convinced a couple times that he was doing it on purpose, y'know? Like that one disease or whatever where people overthink so bad they make themselves sick. Which reminds me of this one time—"

Dean continues talking about things that Cas' groggy and feverish brain can't even begin to follow, but he does appreciate the background noise to distract him from his illness. Cas ends up finishing the entire bowl, and though he probably couldn't eat another bite if Dean had begged him to (but he would anyway, because it's Dean), he's grateful for the soup warming him up from the inside out.

"You still hungry?" Dean asks, taking away the bowl. Cas shakes his head lightly and rubs his eyes. "Tired?"

He nods this time, and then Dean is carefully helping him lay back down on the bed and is pulling the blankets up and tucking them under his chin. Cas is dozing off slightly when Dean places a damp washcloth on his forehead. It's irritating, but important, so Cas doesn't fight it—especially not when Dean starts carding his hand through Cas' surely sweaty hair. Cas settles further into his pillow with a soft sigh at the feeling.

"You really worried me, Cas," Dean murmurs quietly, and Cas wonders if he's supposed to hear him at all. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?"

"You've been...looking forward to this for weeks," Cas replies eventually when he realizes Dean is waiting for a response. "Didn't wanna...let you down…"

It sounds so pathetic when said aloud…and pitifully ironic. He'd ruined the entire not-date because he'd been trying not to ruin the not-date.

"You wouldn't have let me down, Cas. Those kids probably suck, anyway. Kids these days can't mimic the classics." Dean sounds like he's joking, but Cas knows better, knows he's just trying to ease into a topic. "We could've just rescheduled, you know," he says more quietly, more privately. "Not like missing this is the end of the world when you can get the original Zepp songs on any music streaming website out there."

"Or you...could have just invited Charlie..." Cas can't help but say, trying mostly to remind himself that Dean is straight and has a girlfriend that's fun and sarcastic and likes Star Wars, which Cas hasn't even sat through twenty minutes of before falling asleep.

"Why would I invite Charlie?" Dean asks, sounding truly baffled.

"She's your, uh, significant other, isn't she? It'd probably be more appropriate if she went with you anyway…" Internal panic suddenly skyrocketing, he rambles quickly, "In fact, there might still be time to pick her up to see it with you, I don't even know why you're here with me when you could be with her, I'm just me—"

"Cas...do you think Charlie is my girlfriend?" Dean asks, sounding way too amused and Cas just reserves to bury his head under the blankets, even though it does dislodge Dean's wonderful hand from his hair. Curses. "Cas… C'mon, man, come out."

Cas just shakes his head, even though Dean can't see it. But after several moments of hiding his face in silence, he does peek out of the blankets, mostly because he feels bad.

"There you are, blue eyes," Dean says, reaching over and straightening the cloth on his feverish forehead. Cas' face is probably entirely red by this point, but Dean is kind enough not to mention it. "As I was saying, Charlie is just my roommate—like a sister to me, really—and she bats for a different team, anyway."

"W...what?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "She's a lesbian, Cas."

"Oh…" So, it turns out Cas was privately envious of Dean's homosexual roommate and not his girlfriend. Cas squeezes his eyes shut tightly. "O-oh… I-I'm so sorry, Dean, I—"

The cloth is lifted from his forehead and is replaced for just a second by Dean's lips as the man lays a delicate and soft kiss on his forehead. Before Cas can even think of replying, Dean is getting up to rewet the washcloth.

Before he entirely leaves the room, however, Dean calls over his shoulder, "Oh, in case I still wasn't clear enough, that was a date. Y'know, just like the other dozens I've taken you on."

Dean ducks out of the room as Cas' mouth goes completely dry. Dozens? Just how long were they apparently dating? And why didn't Cas even realize they were totally dating?

"So, I'm thinking we should go to an aquarium next time—when you're feeling better, of course," Dean starts when he walks back in, setting the washcloth back on Cas' forehead. This time, however, he takes Cas' hand, and Cas is 90% sure his face is trying to spontaneously and dramatically combust. "You like fish, right? Everyone likes fish, I think. As long as they're not creepy like that evil fish from Nemo."

"I-I like fish," he confirms when he's able to get anything other than weird, strangled noises out of his throat because Dean is holding his hand!

Dean just squeezes his hand silently. He doesn't say anything else for a long time—enough time that Cas very nearly drifts off. Finally, Dean says softly, like he's talking to himself, "You're not 'just you,' by the way. You're Cas, and that in itself is more than enough."

Cas silently fumbles for a response, and is surprised when Dean lifts their joined hands to lay a soft kiss on the back of Cas', even though his hand is probably disgusting and clammy.

"You'll see, Cas. I'll prove to you someday that I'm good enough for you," Dean murmurs against his hand. "I'll work for your heart every day of my life if I have to…"

Cas uses the very last of his energy to whisper back, "You already have it."


(Cas fully recovers three days later, but only because of Dean's attentiveness and his tomato rice soup. There's one day after those three in which Dean and Cas sit side by side of Cas' couch to watch Netflix; Cas ends up falling asleep on Dean's shoulder and, embarrassingly, drooling a little bit, but Dean has already drooled on his pant leg (unless that was also Cas, which…) so he guesses it's okay.

The next morning, Dean does wake up with whatever Cas had. Turns out Dean is a horrible patient because he refuses to stay in bed to recover, ironic considering he'd been the one to scold Cas the minute he was well enough to receive it how stupid it was to go out in the cold when he was already under the weather.

By the time the entire week is over, however, they do end up getting over the sickness and going to that aquarium. In the colorful jellyfish section, Dean even surprises him with a kiss on his dry and chapped lips. They're unable to make it last very long thanks to their annoyingly congested noses making it nearly impossible to breathe in their own air, let alone each others', though.

That part of the sickness lingers for another week and a half, because of course it does, but they do end up sharing a long but sweet kiss after that clears up. Cas can't believe he's even thinking this, but he's actually glad for once that he'd gotten sick. He does end up eating his words, though, when he gets sick again just two months later. But Dean is there to make him more tomato rice soup, so it's...manageable.

Luckily, Dean's roommate, Charlie, is actually really cool about him being all laid up on the couch and doesn't seem to mind him 'sicking up' the room too horribly, not when she's able to stay at her girlfriend's house for the weekend. She doesn't even seem to mind too much when, a few months later, Cas becomes Dean's... roommate instead, because she'd seen it coming already through all the nights Dean apparently vented to her about how cute he thought Cas was.

Yeah, turns out Cas wasn't the only one pining, just like Dean isn't the only nice person in his apartment (at least, before Cas had moved in). Besides, who can stay away from Charlie when she has so many interesting and embarrassing stories about Dean from over the years?)