Started: 19.11.25
Finished: 20.02.06
Words: 548
Destiel, fluff
“De-an!”
The sing-song voice floated up the stairs, disrupting the ex-hunters’ sleep. He groaned and rolled over, burying his head beneath the pillow.
He removed the pillow and sniffed the air after a moment, stomach rumbling as the scent hit his nose, pancakes? Dean shot up, sniffing the air more intently, chocolate chip pancakes? He rolled out of bed, ignoring the goose bumps that broke out across his skin as the cold air him him, it’s not my birthday… he grabbed a shirt off the doorknob before freezing at the top of the stairs, shit… is it our anniversary?
He scrambled back to the bedroom, nearly falling over himself to get a look at the calendar. Thank God, he deflated with relief as he saw it wasn’t their anniversary, that could’ve been so bad. He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath, okay, if it’s not our anniversary, then why is he making pancakes?
The blonde turned from the calendar and started back toward the stairs, only one way to find out… He began down the stairs slowly, keeping his eyes and ears open for any indication of whatever it was he was missing. He rounded the corner and leaned himself against the doorframe in the kitchen, watching as the raven-haired man ladled batter onto the flat top. The blondes’ eyes roamed over the table, nothing out of the ordinary…
“There you are!” Cas gave him a thousand-watt smile and placed a plate piled high with pancakes down on the table, arching an eyebrow, “Well?” He gestured to the chair before spinning back around to the stove, “They’re gonna get cold.”
“Sorry,” the blonde took a seat, starring at the stack in front of him, smell enveloping his senses, man they smell good. “What’s the occasion?”
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