They buy him beehives.
It’s a gift, because Cas has been living in the bunker for a year now.
On May 2nd, he made Sam a big chocolate cake (even though Dean bitched it wasn’t pie) and a salad full of strawberries and blueberries and spicy chicken with a sweet vignette that Sam talked about for weeks (Dean bitched about that too).
On January 24th, he made a pie and a cheeseburgers and crawled into the back of the Impala for a drive to absolutely nowhere. (Dean didn’t bitch about that at all.)
But neither of them knew when Cas’s birthday was. They didn’t even know if he had a birthday.
So when the year mark rolls up, Sam mentions it. We should do something. Get something he’d like but wouldn’t ever get himself.
And that opened up a whole world of possibilities. But Dean knew exactly what to get.
We’re gonna get him some fucking bees.
So they get him two hives and Castiel stares at them like they’re the second coming and he smiles so big and gummy that both brothers are a little flustered.
He comes in from beekeeping in a big suit, smelling like smoke and sweat and grinning, and Dean laughs his ass off. Even Sam fights a smile.
But the hives change something.
Some of the tension that Dean didn’t realize was there is gone now. He finds Cas occupying the bunker, in a way he wasn't before. He makes more noise, when he walks and when he cooks, like he's home, and not a polite guest. His shoes are kicked off under the table in the library. His trenchcoat on the map in the warroom. Books he’s reading in the kitchen and the table in front of the TV, and even Dean’s bedside table because sometimes Dean wants company and Cas reads or watches Netflix, propped against the headboard while Dean falls asleep.
Castiel is living there now.
Like he finally knows he’s staying and he can relax. And Dean relaxes, too.
Sam notices it before Dean. The tiny way that Dean changes.
He actually touches Castiel now. When he’s brushing past him in the hallway, or watching a movie in the evening. A light hand to the elbow when they’re cleaning the dishes or an arm wrapped around his shoulder when they stagger in from sparring.
When they’re next to each other in Dean’s bed.
In the Impala, when Sam is sleeping in the back seat.
One afternoon, Castiel comes in from the beehives. His cheeks are pink and flushed and he’s grinning at Dean whose pouring a cup of coffee.
Cas holds up a piece of honeycomb, and without thinking, Dean licks it free of his fingertips.
For a heartbeat, everything stills, Cas stares at him like he did, that first night in the barn, and he can’t breathe and then Dean grins, licks his lips.
And Cas leans in and licks the taste of honey from Dean’s lips.
Kissing Cas feels like heaven.
He tastes like smoke and honey and home.
Kissing Dean feels like peace.
He tastes like sunlight and peace and home.
Sam finds them there thirty minutes later and he smiles when Cas blinks at him, dazed, lips kiss bitten, voice raspy. Still shiny and bright when he polite asks,
Would you like some honey?