“I don’t have a middle name.”
Dean’s got Cas set up with half a dozen job applications at the library’s table, partly because he thinks working would do him good while they’re laying low for the summer, partly because Cas seems to adjust better when he has a concrete task. “Do you need one?” he asks, looking up from Sam’s computer.
“I feel that it would assist my… assimilation,” he says, shuffling a few pages awkwardly, the pen twitching in his fingers. “I used your last name for mine, I hope- I hope that’s alright-”
“Well, yeah,” Dean says, smiling. “Come on, Cas, you’re practically a Winchester.” The once-angel’s blue eyes train on him, and Dean immediately regrets it the same way he always immediately regrets sincerity. To cover, he adds, “But, uh, middle name?”
“Right,” says Cas. “I thought about using yours but it felt like stealing.”
Dean laughs. “Yeah, no. You’d be Cas Sam. Sounds weird.”
“Why don’t you just pick your own middle name?” Dean suggests, leaning back in the wooden chair, air sifting through the room and making the application papers flutter across the tabletop. “Like, use a character from one of your cartoons that you like.”
“Castiel Wile E. Coyote Winchester.”
“No, you can’t pick your own middle name.” Pursing his lips, Dean thinks for awhile while Cas taps the pen against the paper. Finally, with a hitched grin- “What about Tiberius?”
“Yeah, like… it’s from a- a TV show,” he sighs, shoulders sinking as Castiel’s expression shifts into that brooding look.
“I like it,” Cas announces finally, like he’s been rolling the name around in his head. “Castiel Tiberius Winchester,” he says, and Dean shouldn’t love the way his own last name plays across Cas’s lips so much but he does.
“Alright,” he smiles. “Now keep workin’ on those.”