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Happy Birthday, Castiel!

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"Dean," Castiel murmured quietly, his eyebrows furrowed as he gazed down at the smoking pastry. "I don't understand."

Dean grimaced and resisted the urge to roll his eyes for the umpteenth time. "It's a birthday cake, Cas. To celebrate birthdays," he explained. Castiel gave him a blank, uncomprehending look. "Look, it's a human thing, okay Cas? Just close your eyes, make a wish, and blow out the candles." Dean gestured to the smoking pillars of wax protruding from the sweet.

It was a small, round, chocolate cake that leaned precariously to the right and looked somewhat burnt around the edges. The blue and white frosting had been splattered across the top and patted into place by what could only have been a twelve-year-old boy or a man completely unfamiliar with baking. To top it off, thirty pink candles had been painstakingly placed across the sweet to strategically spell out the words, "Happy Birthday, Cas!"

Castiel frowned at the cake and cocked his head to the side. "It is not my birthday, Dean. I don't have one."

With an aggravated sigh, Dean rubbed the back of his neck and glared at Castiel. "So what?" he said gruffly. He was beginning to feel like this had been one of his more stupid ideas. Good thing he hadn't told Sam about it. "Everyone needs a birthday, Cas. So, I'm giving you one. Today." Dean raised a hand to cut Castiel off when he opened his mouth to protest. "Just stop being stubborn and do it already!"

Castiel said nothing, but took a step forward and gazed down at the cake with a considering expression. Dean shifted uneasily, an antsy, almost angry feeling welling inside of him. Half of him was tempted to yank the cake away from Castiel and stalk off to introduce it to someone who could truly appreciate such a masterpiece — namely himself and his stomach. Before Dean could consider the idea further, Castiel leaned forward and blew out all the candles with one breath.

Dean stared at Castiel wide-eyed (those were trick candles, dammit, they shouldn't have gone out so easily!) as he straightened and turned to face Dean. "I must confess, I do not understand the purpose of this activity," Castiel said gravely.

"Purpose? There isn't a... It's supposed to be... You know what? Nevermind, Cas," Dean said with a frustrated huff. He'd finally gotten a night all to himself and after endless planning (that he'd never admit to), everything had been ready. Dean hadn't counted on Castiel himself being the glitch in the plan. He really should have known better.

The whole thing had come to light a little less than a month ago. Castiel had popped in on Sam's birthday just in time to watch Dean hand over Sam's present. The angel had watched the exchange with an almost wistful expression (once you got past the blank look) and even taken the time to congratulate Sam before telling them how the world was going to end today. It had been just like any other day, but it had gotten Dean to thinking (and later, plotting) which never ended well for anyone.

There was a beat of silence. "So, uh, what did you wish for?" Dean finally asked, desperate to either change the subject or flee the scene. Fleeing wasn't really an option when you had an angel stalking you.

When he responded, Castiel's voice was hushed, meaningful. "I did not wish for anything. There was no need," he said, stepping into Dean's line of vision. Their eyes immediately locked and the tension between them grew until it was almost palpable in the air around them.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, his stomach tying itself in knots and his pulse beginning to race. He knew what Castiel meant, but he wanted to hear the angel say it for himself.

A flicker of indecision slipped across Castiel's face as he stepped into Dean's personal space. "Dean," he said, his breath hot and damp against his chin, "I already have everything I desire." Castiel tilted his head back and gave Dean a pointed look.

Dean took the hint and dropped his hands to Castiel's hips, fingers curling around the bony curves as he pulled him close, up against his body. "How about a birthday kiss?" Dean asked, his voice husky and deep.

Castiel gazed up at Dean intently, as though trying to memorize every last detail of his face. His eyes dilated abruptly when Dean wet his lips, tracking the pink tongue across Dean's lower lip. "A kiss would be acceptable," he said, sounding nearly breathless.

Dean gave a small huff of laughter and ran his fingers through Castiel's hair, tangling them in the short strands. "Acceptable, hmm? I guess I can work with that," he murmured against the angel's lips, cupping the back of his neck and scraping his fingertips against the sensitive skin.

"Happy Birthday, Cas," Dean said a few minutes later (after he'd come up for air), grinning at Castiel's dazed expression and kiss-swollen lips.

Castiel looked up at Dean and smiled, a soft curve of the lips that was almost shy. "Thank you, Dean."

"Now how about we eat this cake...?"