"I've always wondered what falling stars are."
The angel turns to him, confusion written on his face. "They are descending angels, Dean."
"What?" Dean focuses on Cas, his attention pulled away from the clear night sky and its thousands upon thousands of bright pinpoints. A split second later, he returns to his stargazing with renewed focus. "Well, just…wow."
Castiel sits besides his best friend (yes, that is the term he feels is right. Although, what do you call someone you raised from Hell with your own hand and willpower/the man you want to kiss every moment of every day/the most frustrating creature in your purview. Yes, what label fits best?) on the hood of the Impala (possibly too close for his comfort, not that he's paying close attention anyway) and wonders how a man who has seen some of the most horrific things in this world, who has been to Hell (and Heaven) and back, could ever be so innocent. So…full of awe.
Dean (his soul mate, Castiel tries the term out in his mind-it does feel close to perfect) turns back to him and their faces are so close, closer than the younger man has ever allowed. Cas misses this, before Dean declared his personal bubble off-limits, and he could be enthralled by all the colors of light reflected in his irises. "So, you look like that, huh?"
"Yes." Cas discovers that Dean's eyelashes are possibly more fascinating than his eyes and since soul mates are allowed to share Heavens, he knows that he will forsake one autistic man's breezy afternoon for an eternity under the night sky with Dean Winchester. "Although, I have fallen. There is a difference."
"Then it's a good difference." Cas hopes Dean will move in closer, just a bit, so he can do all the things he's ever thought about doing to those lips. "You're more of a nerd than a douche."
Castiel smiles to himself and decides that, yes, this is most definitely how he likes Dean best.