title: on one of their birthdays (a.k.a. Cas really likes his secrets)

I shuffle so I'm next to Dean's ear. "Dean, I've made you pancakes." His eyes shoot open.

"Pancakes?"

"Yes."

"I am very, very awake."

"Then go eat."

"I intend to." He smiles at me, presses a kiss to my jaw, then follows the smell of pancakes to the kitchen.

I sip my coffee as he does his best to inhale the pancakes.

When he's done, he sets his fork down purposefully and turns to me. "It's a Thursday."

"Yes, it is."

"It's 10am."

"Yes, it is."

"You should be at work."

"I took the day off."

"Why?"

"If you can't guess, I'm not telling you."

"That's mean."

"If you can't figure it out, I'm worried." I smile and stand up. "You might want to get dressed. I have a whole day planned for us."

His eyes narrow. "What's the date?"

"January 24th."

I turn around at the sound of Dean's feet and am swept up in a strong (very, very nice) kiss. "I love you."

I laugh slightly breathlessly. "So you figured it out." He nods. "I just made you pancakes."

He rolls his eyes. "You took the day off to give me a birthday. That deserves an impromptu confession of love."

"I'm not complaining." I swat his ass. "Now go get dressed."

"Surely I should be getting undressed after a romantic moment like tha-"

"Don't push your luck." I laugh.

"Wasn't aware I was pushing it to start wit- okay, I'll go!"

###

"Where are we going?"

"You're a three-year-old."

"You always say this, and then you always sound surprised when people think you're a paedophile."

"A three-year-old in a perfectly legal body."

"Still sounds creepy."

"Still not telling you where we're going."

"You're the worst."

"Oh, well, I could still go back to work, I'm sure they wouldn't complain…"

"Nope, that would make you the worst."

"Stop with the kissing, unless you want me to crash."

###

"Uh… Cas?" Dean says hesitantly when we pull up. "I'm not really into museums."

I roll my eyes. "How long have I known you? Do you trust me?"

"Of course, but-"

"You're into history, especially about wars. This is about the history of the town, it's got fragments of weapons and armour… trust me, you'll like it. And if you don't, then we'll leave."

He shakes his head. "Fine. But if it sucks, then you're responsible for ruining my birthday."

"I'll take that risk."

We walk in, I buy the tickets and tell him just to wander around. I've already been, and this is certainly not anything I'm interested in, so I don't really look. Instead, I watch Dean.

He starts off determined not to like it, but he gets sucked in and gives up. We wander around, Dean peering closely at little specks of metal, reading all the boards and occasionally paraphrasing a story or two for me, watching the movies in the rooms… it's immensely fulfilling to see him so into it.

And when he finds a movie less interesting than he expects, he decides that the room is perfect for kissing in. I'm not complaining.

###

"Where to next, boss?" Dean asks with a cheeky grin as we leave.

"It's time for lunch."

"You're my favourite."

"I better be, the amount of effort I've put into this." We smile at each other as Dean links our hands.

"What are we getting?"

"The tried-and-tested favourite of burgers and fries."

"You have that glint in your eyes. What else?"

"I'm not buying you a 3-course meal."

He shakes his head. "That's not what I mean and you know it."

"Yes, I do." I smile as winningly as I can.

"I rescind my earlier declaration of you being my favourite."

"Application denied."

"It's not your choice."

"Now it is."

"Hey, I thought it was my birthday! When I was younger, birthdays meant getting to do what I wanted to do."

I snort. "Sure it did."

"All the more reason it should now!"

"Keep dreaming, Dean."

###

After getting the food, I force Dean back into the cold. He makes a show of hugging deep into his coat and tightening his scarf.

"Yeah, wrap up, we're not going inside anytime soon."

"You're awful to me."

"It's not my fault the river's pretty in winter, and it's certainly not my fault everyone else is too stupid to appreciate its prettiness just because it's cold." I say as we arrive.

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind being one of the stupid ones right now." He smiles, though, so he doesn't really care.

"You're tough, you can handle it."

"Flattery will get me to stay." He nods as we sit on a bench. "But we better huddle to share body heat."

"I fully agree." I say, and sit close to him. Like I'd ever complain.

We eat quietly, and when we finish, Dean puffs out his breath in one big cloud of condensation and then sighs. "I'm not a fully-grown dragon yet. I really thought this year would be the one."

"Well, life wouldn't be quite as fun without ambitions."

"But if I have to wait much longer, I'll be too old to make much use of the abilities!"

"No, I'm fairly certain you have a few years left of activity in you. You're still pretty energetic and spry."

"Okay, spry is a word that should only ever be used in to describe old people."

"Yeah."

"You're not being nice to me today."

"I wouldn't be me if I was nice to you."

"You made me pancakes and took the day off to celebrate my birthday!"

"The exception that proves the rule."

"That idiom doesn't even make sense." He grumbles. I shrug.

I continue to watch the ducks. I've always loved ducks – so maybe this portion of the day was more to satisfy me than Dean. I don't think he'll mind it for a short while, at least.

He sits next to me for a while, before shaking his head. "Nope, I'm not so keen on ducks."

"Do you want to leave?"

"Nah, I can hang here for a bit." He says, and turns so his head is in my lap. He is very markedly gazing at me.

"I thought I was the designated gazer in our relationship."

"I've never been one for following conventions. In fact, one might even be able to call me a rebel."

"I'm not sure I'd go that far."

We smile, and I entwine our gloved hands, appreciate of the warmth radiating out of his. With my hand resting in his lovely, soft hair (he hasn't had the opportunity to gel it today, given I rushed him. I'm appreciative) and the ducks frolicking in front of me, I'm content.

I eventually start to feel a shiver starting. "Okay, it is really cold. Shall we continue on?"

"Sounds good to me." Dean gets up readily, offering me a hand and not letting go after he helps me up.

"Cold?"

"I've already complained about that; don't act like it's a surprise. Where are we headed to now?"

"Well, we're going in this direction." I point.

"You're no fun."

"It will be."

"Your enigmatic answers are making me sad."

"You'll survive."

"Speaking of, how are you coping with your pathetically thin and flimsy coat?" He smiles charmingly at me.

I roll my eyes. "Perfectly well, thank you. I feel quite warm."

"Okay, that's a lie; we just sat on that freezing bench for a half hour."

"But this proximity to you makes my insides feel all warm and fuzzy." I clutch my heart dramatically, and Dean rolls his eyes.

"Doesn't mean your coat's any good."

"I've had it long enough, don't you think I would have gotten rid of it if it were no use to me?"

"Well, you are pretty stubborn."

"I'm also pretty intelligent."

"That's debatable."

"Okay, now I'm not talking to you until we arrive."

Dean nods sombrely, and proceeds to recite to me all the definitions he can remember from his Chemistry exams back in school.

###

"Okay! We're here."

"Are… are we at an arcade?"

"Yes, yes we are."

"I hereby pronounce you my favourite again."

"Oh please, I have always been your favourite."

"Eh, maybe…"

I pull a plastic bag of coins out from my pocket. "I have change."

"Yep, always."

"You're such a gold-digger."

"Then it's a good thing you love me."

"So it is. Where do you want to start?"

"You do know of my deep, undying love for first-person shooters." He looks around.

"You mean your deep, undying love for winning games against me with ease."

"Yes, so first-person shooters."

I roll my eyes. "There's one over here." I pull him over.

Whilst we play, Dean is silent and concentrating. Unsurprisingly, I lose very quickly. He continues to play, and whilst I linger for a short while, I instead go to find another way to occupy my time – I have the money, and an empty arcade.

I find one of those penny machines, the ones where you put in a coin and try to knock the other pennies off and figure that'll fill enough time but not run over to when Dean finishes.

"Oh no, you found one of the penny machines."

"What's so bad about them?"

"Nothing… except there's nothing really to win. The problem is you, you don't play them right."

"How can you play them right?"

"You play to win. Well, you're supposed to, but you just play until you run out of coins."

I shrug. "Yes, I enjoy it."

"You're supposed to just want to gain money; it's like gambling for kids."

"I'm content not to. Plus, this way I know when to quit; if I quit because I think I have lots of money, I'll always wonder if I could have gotten more."

"Yeah, this way you just know you could have gotten more. Come on, let's go find another machine."

"I haven't finished!"

"I don't care!" He grabs my hands and pulls me. "Tell me, are we in profit?"

I pout. "Yes."

"Then I did you a favour."

"Okay, but we're playing one of the dancing games."

He sighs. "But the music on them is 80s disco music."

"Yes?"

"Fine."

"Thank you." I smile.

###

"So we've finally found a reason bow legs aren't the evolutionary norm."

"Shut up."

"You have to realise that, given how often you have teased me about being superior at first person shooters, I am prepared to get my fill out of this for the next few years."

"If I stick around that long."

I sneer. "Like you could leave."

He winks. "You keep telling yourself that. So what next?"

I look at my watch and shrug. "Home?"

"Why did you look at your watch before suggesting home?"

"Must the two relate to one another?"

"Coincidences don't just happen coincidentally."

I raise my eyebrows.

"It sounded better in my head." He looks around, then nods. "Yeah, I don't think there's more I want to do here. I'll let you take me home and have your way with me."

I roll my eyes. "You think I scheduled time for that? You'd let me 'have my way with you' here."

He fakes an offended face, straightens it out. "Are you offering?" Lascivious smile.

"Okay, we're leaving now."

"I'm cool with that. Can I have the keys?"

"Nope." I smile at him, grab his hand and lead the way to the Impala.

"Why not?" He whines. "I know where we're going, you have no excuse."

"Yes, I do. I'm in control today, and you never go the way I want you to."

"I go straight home, what's wrong with that?"

I shrug. "It's not the scenic route."

"Scenic route."

"Ever wanted to stop and smell the roses?"

"There aren't any roses to smell whilst in a car, don't be silly."

"Stop and view the roses."

"If you dare stop in the middle of a road…"

I roll my eyes. "Admire beauty."

"I have you."

I narrow my eyes. "That was weird. We're still going the scenic route."

"You're so not nice to me."

"Yes, I am."

"Okay, you kind of are."

###

"It wasn't that pretty, Cas, and we could have been here like half an hour ago."

"Shut up."

"No! I'm right and you're n-" We're on the doorstep, so I figure it's safe enough for his favourite method of interruption, a lovely, long kiss.

I open the door whilst kissing him and push him inside, not too roughly. I am a practiced multi-tasker.

Winding my arms slowly around his neck, I count down from three with my fingers, displaying them to the living room without – hopefully – betraying what I'm doing to Dean, and pull away when I get to zero.

A chorus of 'happy birthday' breaks out from Sam, Jess, Benny, Anna, and a few of the colleagues Dean has mentioned getting on with. Dean himself, ruffled and pouty-lipped, punches me in the side.

"You're such a dick."

fluff fluff fluff

okay this one was written over three days which is so not in the spirit of things, but, in my defense, i was running through my last exams and they were the baaaad ones. I hope you like it. It's haunted my unconscious whilst I've not been writing it, so I have to say the idea of it, at least, pleases me...