Work Text:
“Uhhh, sweetheart?” Dean called as he stepped into his and Castiel’s house.
Said house smelled like a bonfire, the air almost hazy, and it was a miracle the fire alarm hadn’t gone off yet. Actually, Dean put checking the fire alarms on his chores list- the fact that they haven’t gone off yet is less a miracle and more a hazard.
“Cas?” He called again, stepping deeper into the smoky building.
The house wasn’t completely quiet, the sounds of the lake outside and bees in Cas’ garden assured that. But, there were no Castiel-size noises.
Dean stalked towards the kitchen, which seemed to be the place the smoke was coming from, hoping the angel was there.
As he suspected, Dean did find Castiel in the kitchen. He also found the kitchen covered in flour; pretty much all their dishes scattered across the counters; and his beautiful husband at the center of it all, reading a cooking book.
“Cas, what the hell happened?” Dean asked, carefully stepping past a deserted dough-covered pan left on the floor.
“Oh, hello Dean,” Castiel said, looking up as though everything wasn’t a wreck, “I hadn’t expected you home so early”
“Yeah, Sammy wasn’t feeling well, so I just stopped by to make sure he and Eileen were good on groceries” Dean explained. He crouched down to meet Cas at eye-level. The angel himself was in a similar state of mess- the t-shirt he stole from Dean this morning was covered in splatters of egg and flour, and his hair looked like he had run his hands through it a million times.
“Baby, what happened here?” Dean repeated, picking a piece of dough of the other’s shoulder.
Cas had the sense to look slightly sheepish.
“I was attempting a recipe”
“Mhm, was arson apart of the ingredients?”
Cas huffed at the remark, “No, and nothing was actively on fire. The oven began emitting smoke, but there were no flames”
“Ok, ok, Human Torch,” Dean laughed, dropping a kiss on Cas’ cheek, “No flames. What were you trying to make anyway?”
This time, Castiel’s whole face turned bright red. The angel mumbled something, looking away.
“What?”
“… Apple hand-pies”
Dean’s world stopped for a second. Hand-pies? Like…?
He knew the significance of the dessert was not lost on Cas. In fact, Dean could think of more than one time that Dean had admitted to the angel- both in slurred, wine drunk rants at the bar or in the library when Sammy had long gone to bed, and in quiet, somber confessions late into the night with only their shared bed to hear- what his mom’s goddamn hand-pies meant to him.
Dean felt a burst of warmth in his chest, his heart nearly hurting from how much he loved Cas, and he reeled his husband in for a fierce kiss.
Cas only took a moment to respond, before pressing back just as much as Dean gave, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulder to steady them.
“Fuck I love you” Dean muttered against Cas’ lips once they pulled back.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t finish them before you came home” Castiel said, offering an apologetic smile and sweetly running a hand through the other’s hair.
“Don’t be. I love it anyways,” Dean reassured, pressing another kiss to the angel’s lips. “Besides, now we can make ‘em together”
That earned a gummy smile from Castiel, one of Dean’s favorite sights.
“C’mon sweetheart, let me show you how to make pie the right way” Dean said, standing to his feet and offering his hand to the other, which Cas took. As Castiel stood up, he paused.
“The oven was not supposed to smoke, correct?”
Dean laughed at that, hard. He couldn’t tell which was funnier- the comment itself, or Cas’ suspicious expression.
“No baby, there isn’t supposed to be any smoke”