Sam and Jess are getting married and Dean couldn’t be any happier for them. Honestly, they’re kind of disgustingly perfect for each other and Dean’s pretty damn excited about staying with them the week before the wedding. He’s Sam’s best man, of course, and he doesn’t even mind that Jess has her own best man to share in all the organisational duties. The more the merrier, right?
Except Dean must have done something to epically piss off the universe because Jess’s best man just happens to be Castiel friggin’ Novak. He’s got even hotter since High School, but apparently no friendlier and if Cas wants to spend the week pretending like they’ve never met before? Fine. Two can play at that game.
Castiel turns around just as the boy, who seems to be only a few inches taller than him, places the glasses back on his face with gentle hands. Castiel blinks as his world comes back into focus and thinks for one startling moment that maybe he’s actually been blind his whole life and only now is he truly seeing colour for what it really is. The boy’s eyes are green, that’s the first thing he notices.
It’s rushed and messy but where the wood has always been blank and unmarked before, the words ‘Happy Birthday’ have been scratched hurriedly into the surface. Cas runs a finger across the words and feels his throat close up, just a little.
“Morning Sunshine!” Jess says brightly and Cas sends a half-hearted glare over the rim of his mug. Jess giggles and Dean tries not to smile to himself like an idiot. Cas’s hair is all over the place, even more so than usual, and he can’t help but notice he looks kind of like a kitten all bleary eyed and grumpy.
"Oh yes, I really enjoy making a fool out of myself.”
Dean snorts, “Clearly.”
He types out three different texts I apologise. I didn’t mean – Dean I didn’t mean to imply – I’m sorry I thought you were mocking me Before sighing and erasing every single one. In the end he selects the camera option and snaps a photo of his own face, complete with make up.
Cas doesn’t know why Dean’s still standing there, he hopes vaguely that maybe he wants to speak to him too, but he seems very focused on not meeting Cas’s eyes and it’s just as likely that he’s merely being a gentleman about letting everyone else leave first.
It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep, the sound of Cas’s breath evening out against his collarbone the most effective sort of lullaby, and Dean hums contentedly as he feels himself drifting off. As he closes his eyes he expects a kaleidoscope of images, flashes of the future he hopes they have, but they never come. The future is unmapped, still to look forward to, and Dean’s happy just to wait, to see those images for real as their lives unfold.