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It was quiet in the bunker. Not in a way that noise was creeping up behind some corner, but, for once, in a calm and peaceful way.
The only sound Dean could hear from under his blankets was a muffled song coming from the kitchen. Sweet guitar tunes and a gentle voice, but he didn‘t recognize it.
He groaned. He was warm and comfy in his bed, but the empty spot next to him bothered him. „Where is my angel“, he mumbled softly, letting his hand fall on the pillow beside him. For a moment, he let it rest there to feel the echo of the person missing there, the echos of loving touches flowing through his skin.
To get more of these, he needed to get up, unfortunately, He shook away his covers, climed out of bed and slipped into his dressing gown.
Following the sound of music and the smell of coffee, made – he hoped – by Cas, because the way he made it was his favorite, he walked through the bunker‘s hallways. The thought of Cas waiting for him where he went made him walk a little faster, even as early as it was.
He stepped into the kitchen, where Cas was standing at the counter and turned aroung when he heard Dean coming in. The radio on the table played along.
„Morning, sunshine!“, he greeted Cas, a big grin on his face.
„Hello, Dean“, the angel answered, as he grabbed a big cup of coffee from the counter.
Dean walked closer to him, cupping Cas‘ face with both his hands and kissing him good morning. It was a soft kiss, and Dean still couldn‘t believe his luck that he got to do this every morning. Every day and every night, he could kiss Cas. He could love him and be with him for the rest of their lives if he wanted to and finally, he wasn‘t afraid to admit it anymore. He knew what he wanted. And even better, he knew that Cas wanted the same.
Smiling through their kiss, he let his hands wander over Cas‘ chest and to his hands.
„It‘s your favorite“, Cas mumbled when their lips parted. His blue eyes seemed to look directly into Dean‘s soul.
„My favorite?“
„Well, because it‘s made by me. You seem to like my coffee best, even if I‘m not sure what it is exactly that I‘m doing different.“
Dean chuckled and took the cup from Cas‘ hands. He took a sip. „Hmmmm“, he said, pretending to wonder about the special recipe too. „Maybe it is because I know you made it. Or is there some special ingredient?“
„Other than the amount of care and love I put into everything I do for you, no.“
Cas earnest tone and the smile on his face knocked Dean out. Love. He blushed and looked into his coffee. It was one thing to know Cas loved him, but hearing him say it again and again and knowing he meant it still overwhelmed him sometimes.
He looked up into his eyes. Softly, he said: „I love you too, Cas“.
Because he couldn‘t get enough of saying it again and again either.