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In October, Dean has an unremarkable one night stand with a woman named Lydia. He doesn’t hear from her again but eleven months later, he’s suddenly a single father to a baby girl who just survived the car crash that killed her mother.
It’s a lot of change in a short amount of time, especially considering he doesn’t know of Emma’s existence until he gets the call from the hospital. He’s responsible for a whole ass person now - a tiny, fragile person who won’t stop crying and who screams bloody murder whenever Dean tries to put her in a car seat.
The little hypocrite is fine with the bus, so Dean resigns himself to public transport for the next while. Dealing with dirty looks from his fellow passengers as Emma cries her head off is easier than the alternative. At least it’s regular crying, not those demonic shrieks she makes in the car.
“Maybe you’re holding her wrong.”
Dean glares at Cas, who’s in the seat next to him. He’s been taking the bus with them ever since Dean brought Emma home, and although Dean is grateful for the company that doesn’t mean he’s gonna put up with unsolicited criticisms.
“Maybe you should shove it.”
“Hand her over,” Cas says, ignoring him.
Dean hesitates but then complies. Maybe the tiny bit of distance will make the endless crying more bearable.
Cas takes her carefully into his arms, supporting her head like the nurse at the hospital had shown Dean and cradling her to his chest. He bounces her just slightly and then, miracle of miracles, her crying starts to die down.
Dean stares at him in wonder. “How did you do that?”
Cas shrugs. He’s looking down at Emma with a small, gentle smile and Dean feels something in his chest clench at the sight.
“What a sweet girl you two have,” coos a woman sitting across the aisle from them.
It takes Dean a moment to realize she’s misinterpreted the situation. He wonders if he should correct her but before he can, Cas answers, “Thank you.”
Unfortunately, the woman takes that as her cue to continue the conversation. “Did you adopt?”
“No,” Cas responds dryly. “Dean forgot the condom.”
“O-oh.”
She stops bothering them after that and a couple of stops later, she’s off.
“So,” Dean says as soon as she’s gone, “is it an open relationship or did I cheat?”
“You cheated,” Cas answers without hesitating. “Hussy.”
*
The zoo is Emma’s favorite place in the world. Dean’s not crazy about it himself but he’s a sucker for those big blue eyes of hers so they go every week - twice, if Emma’s feeling fussy.
Cas always joins them, even though he must have better things to do. Dean expected his social life to suffer since becoming a single parent, and it has, but he’s seen more of Cas in the past few months than in the last three years combined.
(It probably helps that Cas is divorced now - Daphne never could stand Dean.)
It’s early Saturday afternoon but the slight drizzle keeps most people away. Dean has Emma strapped to his chest, shielding her from the rain with an umbrella, but he gets the feeling she wouldn’t notice it anyway. Their first stop is one of the monkey cages and Emma is captivated, shrieking with laughter and babbling cheerful nonsense at the unimpressed looking monkeys.
“I don’t get why she’s so obsessed with those things,” Dean says.
“I do.” Cas crouches, holding out a finger to Emma who grasps it in her chubby hand. “It’s because she’s a monkey herself.”
“Don’t listen to him, Em,” Dean tells his daughter, taking her unoccupied hand and kissing it. “You’re the cutest little girl in the world.”
Cas straightens and shoots him a wry smile. “Is that why you put that bow in her hair? Or is it because of that woman who told you how handsome your son is?”
Dean pats Emma’s head, careful not to disturb the pink bow clinging precariously to a few strands of hair. That woman was not the first person to confuse Emma for a boy, probably because most of her clothes are hand-me-downs from Cas’ nephew, Jack.
“No,” he lies, because he’s not up for another one of Cas’ lectures about how gender is a construct.
They watch the monkeys a while longer, since Emma can’t seem to get enough of them. The drizzle is starting to turn into proper rain so Cas huddles close, underneath Dean’s umbrella
Eventually, Dean decides they need to check out the rest of the zoo. He begins to walk away from the cage but Emma starts immediately wailing, reaching both hands out to the monkeys.
“Let her stay a little longer,” Cas says.
“If it were up to her, we’d never leave. We can’t give in every time she starts crying, she’ll stop as soon as she sees something else she likes.”
“Ten more minutes.”
Dean rolls his eyes but relents. Next to him, a woman who just arrived with her baby in a stroller laughs.
“Sucks to have to be the strict one, huh?” she asks.
“Oh, we’re not-” Dean cuts himself off, because why bother. “Yeah, it does.”
“My husband is just as bad,” she confides. “He would let this one get away with murder if it weren’t for me.”
Dean hums. Cas isn’t paying attention to the conversation, too busy reading the plaque in front of the cage.
“I would have figured it would be twice as bad with two daddies, but you seem to be doing okay.”
“Yeah, sure.”
The woman cranes her neck, peering curiously around Dean at Cas. "Which one of you is her real dad?”
A shot of annoyance goes through Dean and he answers without thinking, “We’re both her real dads.”
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
“I don’t. Cas,” Dean adds a little louder. “C'mon, let’s check out the tapirs.”
Emma starts wailing again as they walk away but like Dean predicted, she stops as soon as she spots something else to occupy her interest - in this case, a big rock.
“We’re both her real dads?” Cas asks.
Dean blushes. “Sorry. I just hate it when people talk about family not being real, just because you’re not related by blood.”
“I know.”
“Didn’t mean to drag you into it.”
“It’s fine. I do consider you and Emma to be my family.”
Dean swallows past the lump that’s suddenly formed in his throat. “Yeah. Well. Right back at you.”
He ignores the flutter of hope in his chest. That way only lies danger.
*
Dean is expecting some tears on Emma’s first day of pre-school. If not from her, then from himself. Surprisingly, they both handle it well. Emma stumbles off without saying goodbye when she spots a slide on the playground and although Dean gets a little misty-eyed, he keeps it together.
Then he turns to Cas, who is noticeably distressed.
Dean nudges him. “You okay, buddy?”
“Yes, I’m-” Cas clears his throat and Dean pretends not to notice when he wipes away a tear. “I’m fine.”
“It’s only a few hours. I’m sure you can handle it.”
Cas shoots him a glare. “I’m going to wait in the car.”
He walks off and Dean feels a little bad for teasing but not enough to actually go and apologize.
Emma’s new teacher walks up to him. “This is nothing unusual,” she says, gesturing at Cas’ retreating back. “But Emma is adjusting remarkably well.”
“Yeah, she’s a champ,” Dean says, chest swelling with pride. He can still see Emma from here, toddling her way up the short steps to the slide.
“Will you or your partner be picking her up? Or both of you?”
Emma slides down, stumbling as she lands but managing to stay on her feet. She shrieks in delight, running back around to the steps to go again.
“Hm?”
“Sorry, husband.”
Dean turns to the teacher, attention caught by that word. “What?”
“Which one of you will be picking up Emma?” she asks again. “You or your husband?”
Dean stares at her blankly for a moment. “Me,” he finally answers. “My - uh, my husband is working late.”
Later, once he’s taken care of all the formalities with the teacher and has said goodbye to Emma, Dean heads back to the car and wonders why he didn’t correct her. Why he went along with her mistake.
Why the hell the word ‘husband’ sounded so good when applied to Cas.
*
On Emma’s second birthday, Dean discovers that strangers aren’t the only ones who have been mistaking him and Cas for a couple.
He’s in his kitchen, putting away all the dirty dishes from Emma’s party. The birthday girl herself is taking a nap and although most of the guests have gone home, a few still linger in the living room, talking quietly among themselves.
He’s just about done loading the machine and putting the leftovers away when Mom joins him.
“Bobby and I are about to head home,” she tells him. “Just wanted to say goodbye.”
Dean closes the fridge and walks over to hug her. She’s smiling at him when they part, eyes shining. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says. She clears her throat, pats Dean’s chest. “I’m just… really happy for you, sweetie.”
“Mom,” Dean says, putting his hand over hers. “Have you been drinking?”
Mom snorts, swatting him. “I mean it, kid. I was so worried about you when you got the call about Emma but you’ve handled the situation better than I could have hoped for.”
Dean shrugs, uncomfortable at the deluge of sincere praise. This is the kind of emotional honesty members of the Winchester family don’t usually engage in unless somebody’s on their deathbed.
“She’s lucky to have you,” Mom continues. “And you’re both lucky to have Castiel. I’m glad you’ve all found each other.”
Dean’s stomach sinks. He searches Mom’s expression for any hint of a joke but she looks completely serious.
“Mom… I don’t have Cas. We’re not together.”
“…You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
Mom blinks. “But you’re…” She huffs. “I don’t understand.”
“Sorry?” Dean scratches the back of his neck. “I dunno what to tell you, we’re just friends.”
Neither one of them speaks, the silence between them growing awkward.
“I’m… gonna go,” Mom finally says. “Just forget I said anything about Castiel.”
“Okay,” Dean says, knowing full well he’s not gonna be able to.
Strangers thinking he and Cas are involved is one thing. But Mom? Maybe it’s time for Dean to reevaluate the way they come off to people. The last thing he needs is for Emma to get confused about the situation.
*
Dean considers bringing it up with Cas but it’s just too awkward and in the end, very little reevaluating is done. Dean likes that they’re close, even if they’re never as close as he actually wants. He doesn’t wanna lose any part of what he and Cas have, doesn’t want anything to change between them.
So he says nothing, and things stay the same.
The conversation with Mom is all but forgotten a few months later. Dean is working late, so Cas offers to picks Emma up from pre-school. They’re both kneeling around the coffee table in the living room when Dean comes home, drawing with crayons on the blank pages of Emma’s coloring book.
Dean feels ten different kinds of warm and fuzzy at the sight of them and he can’t help but smile. Cas looks up, finally noticing him, and answers with a gummy smile of his own.
“You staying for dinner?” Dean asks, ignoring the way his heart just skipped a beat.
“Mhm,” Emma hums without looking up from the coloring book.
“I suppose I am,” Cas agrees.
He stays for dinner and then he stays after, helping Dean get Emma to bed. Even once she’s asleep, he stays and does the dishes while Dean throws a load in the laundry.
Neither one of them says anything, but by the time they’re done with the chores and collapse on the couch in front of the TV it’s clear that he’s not going home to sleep. It’s not the first time he’s staying the night, or even the fiftieth - it’s become something of a habit since Dean got Emma. The guest room is basically Cas’ room by now.
They channel surf until Cas makes Dean stop on some competitive reality show about blowing glass. Dean becomes invested despite himself but even then, he’s exhausted and the couch is very soft and inviting.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep but when he wakes up, his head is laying on Cas’ shoulder and Cas is slumped against him, snoring softly. It’s dark outside and the only source of light is from the television, now showing a late night talk show with the volume off.
Dean sits up, jostling Cas awake. For a moment, they just look at each other, both smiling sleepily. Then Dean, forgetting for a moment everything they are and everything they aren’t, leans in and kisses him.
It’s not a first kiss. It isn’t tentative, or curious, or impatient and passionate. It’s a routine kiss, the kind you give a partner you’ve been with for a while, brief but assured and loving.
He pulls away and it’s not until he sees Cas’ face that his brain finally catches up with him.
“Shit,” he mutters, recoiling. “Cas, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
He moves to get up, but Cas grabs his hand, holding him still. He doesn’t look shocked or disturbed. Dean can’t read his expression at all, can’t tell what that searching look in his eyes means.
“Don’t apologize,” he finally says. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for ten years.”
Dean’s jaw goes slack. “Wh- ten years?”
“Yes,” Cas says, matter-of-factly. Then, “I’m going to kiss you again, if you don’t mind.”
Dean doesn’t mind. He very, very much doesn’t mind, especially with the way Cas’ hand cups the back of his neck, thumb rubbing the sensitive skin behind his ear before he leans in, kissing Dean with gentle pressure and precision. Or the way he licks the seams of his lips until he opens them, turning the kiss a little filthy and sending bolts of heat dancing down to Dean’s gut.
They part, and something occurs to Dean.
“Wait, is that why Daphne hated me?”
Cas laughs. He’s so close, Dean can feel the way it rumbles in his chest warm and low. “No, actually. She thought you drank too much.”
Then he’s kissing Dean again, and the conversation is officially over.
*
It isn’t until he’s in a relationship with Cas that Dean realizes he was basically in a relationship with Cas already.
Seems he was the one misunderstanding things all along.