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One lazy morning, Dean wakes up, heads to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee, and finds Castiel already there, two mugs in hand.
“Here you go,” Castiel says, handing one to Dean.
It’s one of the three identical mugs that Jack got them for Christmas this year. They all have ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ printed on the side, and Dean had been so touched by the gesture that he’d exercised some self-restraint and waited until Jack was out of earshot before leaning over to Sam to say, “I’m the World’s Greatest Greatest Dad, though.”
This morning, Castiel has made himself coffee in his own Dad Mug and simultaneously poured Dean an equal share. Dean accepts the caffeine gratefully and takes a sip. He hums with pleasure when he finds that Castiel has made it just the way he likes it - piping hot, with no cream and three spoonfuls of sugar. Perfect.
Sleepy and satisfied, Dean says, “Thanks, Cas,” and then, without thinking about it at all, leans over and gives the angel a kiss on the cheek.
“You’re welcome,” Castiel says, completely unperturbed.
He takes his mug and leaves the kitchen without another word. Dean, meanwhile, is left to stand stupidly in the middle of the room, staring down at his coffee while something in his brain screams, short-circuits, and then tries to rebuild itself from scratch. He’s still standing there, frozen with bewilderment, when Sam wanders in a few minutes later, yawning and working the kinks out of his shoulders.
“Hey, Sam,” Dean says as casually as possible. “How long have I been married to Castiel?”
Sam pauses in the doorway.
“Uhhhhh,” he says.
He takes his phone out of his pocket and squints performatively at the screen.
“Ten years, six months, and five days,” Sam tells Dean.
“Huh,” says Dean.
“There any coffee left?” Sam asks, crossing over to the coffee maker.
“Here, you can take mine.” Dean pushes his World’s Greatest Dad mug into Sam’s chest, willing to abdicate his title just for the rest of the morning. “I think I have a honeymoon to go make up for.”
“Um, ew,” Sam says. “Didn’t need to know that.”
But he watches Dean jog out of the room with a smile, anyway.
Well, he was bound to catch on eventually.
Sam shakes his head in amused disbelief and takes a sip of the abandoned coffee, only to grunt and wrinkle his nose in distaste. Then he dumps the rest of the mug’s contents into the sink and starts hunting for the jar of grounds.
Dean always takes his coffee with way too much sugar.