Cas woke up late. The sun was already shining through his and Dean’s bedroom windows. He stretched languidly in the sheets, smiling at the slight soreness in his muscles.
They’d had a incredibly good night.
Rolling onto his side, he reached for Dean, only moderately surprised to find his side of the bed empty. Dean’s sleeping habits had always been weird and unpredictable. Even though Cas had kept his husband up quite late, it seemed that Dean had risen well before him, since his side of the mattress was cool.
Wandering downstairs, he found Dean sitting in a sunbeam on the floor in front of the Impala. There were various pencils and art supplies scattered in a circle around him on the firehouse floor. A large sketchbook sat in Dean’s lap, and he was painstakingly sketching the front corner of the car.
Cas made plenty of noise to let Dean know he was coming so he wouldn’t be startled. “Good morning,” he greeted him, kissing his cheek. “Brought you some coffee.”
Sitting down beside him, Cas watched Dean’s hand move quickly over the paper, adding shading and dimension. “I will never stop being fascinated and impressed with your skills.”
Dean looked over and smiled, his cheeks pinking slightly. “Thanks, babe.” He set the book and pencil aside and leaned in for a real kiss. “Love you.” Reaching for the coffee, he took a long sip and sighed happily.
“It’s her birthday today, isn’t it?”
“Yup, our girl is fifty.”
Cas’s heart warmed at the our girl. “I hope I look that good when I’m fifty.”
Dean set the coffee aside and slid a hand over Cas’s thigh. “Oh, I know you will.”
Well, it wasn’t the first time they fooled around on the firehouse floor.