Castiel never really cared much about holidays. He liked Christmas decorations and some of the music, he liked the spark of red in grey winter on Valentine's Day, he liked the candy sales after Easter. But he didn't really care about the celebrations, avoiding coming in contact with his family on these holidays. Gabriel would describe it as "not giving a flying rat's ass". A language discourse that Castiel still struggles to understand.
But March 14th, that's something different. It's underrated, unknown outside of middle school classrooms, and untouched by capitalism. Castiel doesn't particularly care for math, despite being good at it, but has been planning for Pi Day for a while. Because if there is something Dean Winchester enjoys, it's pie.
Castiel has been friends with Dean since he moved into the same ratty suburban neighborhood in Lawerence, Kansas. Dean was 7, Castiel older by a couple of months. Castiel first met him when Mary Winchester appeared on the Novak's porch with a fresh apple pie. Dean stood tall next to his mother, beaming up at her and the pan in her hands. Castiel stared at the boy, then thin with a large smile and too many freckles. Grinning at Castiel, Dean introduced himself by saying, "I helped Mom make the pie! I hope you like apple!"
Years passed and the two boys became close friends. Dean taught Castiel how to throw a baseball. Castiel tutored Dean in English. Dean was there when Castiel broke his arm falling out of a tree in his backyard. Castiel was there when Dean got the news of Mary's fatal car crash.
Now it's their senior year, and Castiel has to pull out all the stops. His mother always told Anna "the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach" while she cooked dinner for their large family. Castiel reasons this technique applies to Dean as well, who eats his body weight in food every day to keep up with his growth spurts. Since their sophomore year, Castiel started questioning his feelings for Dean. The platonic affection, the longing to be share time together still exists. But something else started growing in his chest, crawling its way between his ribs, wrapping around his lungs. Every time Dean's hand brushes against his, or when he smiles only at Castiel, it squeezes the breath out of him. He tried to pull out the weeds, refused to name them, and forced himself to think about other things. This year, however, he struggles to do that. He decided a couple weeks ago that it's time to tell Dean about this new feeling.
He had sat on his laptop for hours searching for apple pie recipes. He looked at hundreds of comments on Pintrest, listed the pros and cons of making crust from scratch. The nights leading up to today, Castiel spent hours in the kitchen rolling dough, slicing apples, testing spices. He made 5 pies in total. Taking a slice from each one, he tasted them to try and figure out which one tasted most like Mary Winchester's. Her apple pie recipe died with her and Dean always complains about how nothing tasted the same. Casitel knows he could never replicate such a pinnacle of deliciousness, but he can try to come close.
And after several hours of hard work, Castiel had the pie. The one good enough to present to Dean.
Castiel carefully places the perfected pie in a circular Tupperware container with forks, his hands shaking as he snaps the latches shut. It's a warm Saturday, the neighborhood kids enjoying the light breeze as they ride their bikes up and down the street. Castiel's siblings are out and about in the backyard, soaking up the sun and taking a break from studying for final exams. He peeks out the sliding glass doors at the back of the living room, laughing when Gabriel throws a screaming Anna into the pool.
Shaking his head, he holds the container close to his chest and walks out the front door. The sun winks from behind scattered clouds as he looks both ways. He can hear the faint echo of Led Leppelin coming from Dean's open window. He grins at the sound, gaining confidence as he crosses the street. He waves at Sam as the younger boy races past on his skateboard.
"Be careful!" Castiel shouts.
"I always am!" he yells back, laughing into the wind.
Castiel watches him disappear over the crest of the hill at the end of their road, taking the moment to take a deep breath.
"Hey, Cas," Dean calls out, leaning out from his bedroom window. He grins down at his friend, eyes bright.
Castiel turns and looks up at Dean, holding his free hand over his eyes to see him better. "Hello, Dean."
Dean pats the side of the house in quick beat, then recedes into his bedroom. Castiel can hear his pounding footsteps racing down the stairs and John Winchester yelling at him to stop stomping around. Dean rolls his eyes as he throws open the front door. He steps out barefoot, frayed jeans swinging around his pale feet. Castiel holds out the container to Dean. Dean looks at the blue circle, smiles, and nods for Castiel to follow him.
They walk silently to an old park a couple houses down from Dean's. They used to play on the swings there, daring each other to kick the sun out of the sky. Dean sits on the right swing, smiling to encourage Castiel to sit next to him.
Dean gently pushes off the ground, causing him to swing back and forth a little. He lightly grips the chains, shaking rust flakes onto the ground. "What's up, Cas?"
Castiel sits on the swing next to him, carefully balancing himself so he won't drop his creation. Slowly, he takes off the top of the container. He holds it out to his best friend, letting Dean look at the shiny glazed crust. All of his siblings' advice runs through his mind, but he decides to settle on a simple, "Happy Pi Day, Dean."
Dean looks at the pie, then at Castiel. He grins and takes the container from the other boy. "Didn't know there was a day dedicated to my favorite food," he laughs, taking a fork in his hand. "Is this whole thing for me?"
Castiel blushes and nods. "Yes, I made it for you…"
"Good, because I don't plan on sharing it with anyone. Except maybe you." Dean winks, causing his friend to blush more.
Dean breaks the top of the crust, dipping the fork into the caramelized center. He scoops out a bite, smiling at how the crust flakes and how the filling oozes over the sides of the fork. Castiel leans forward on his swing, biting his bottom lip as he watches Dean take a bite.
Closing his eyes, Dean lets the piece rest on his tongue. Flavor explodes from the sugar and flour and cinnamon and apples. Dean chews slowly, salivating as he thinks about shoveling more of the delicious pie into his mouth. He takes another bite, then another. He hadn't had an apple pie this good in years. He stares at his best friend, eyes watering. He puts the pie container on the ground, his fork stuck in the top, then yanks Castiel off his swing into a hug. Castiel grunts, but wraps his arms around Dean's shoulders once he's standing.
Dean presses his face into Castiel's shoulder, inhaling deep to stay calm. A single tear is absorbed into Castiel's shirt collar as Dean whispers, "Thanks, man…"
"You are more than welcome." Castiel smiles softly. The oldest Winchester, the guy who constantly told his friend and brother No chick flick moments, hugs Castiel tighter. His fingers dig into Castiel's t-shirt, scrunching up the fabric.
After a couple of moments of them just holding on to one another, Castiel kisses Dean's exposed neck. Fear and joy and sadness and empathy bubbles in his chest, thick and sweet like the heavy scent of caramel. Castiel takes a quick breath in, forcing himself to say the words before he loses confidence. "I love you, Dean."
Dean freezes in Castiel's arms. His breath stops for a second, as does his heart. His neck heats up, and he pulls back enough to see his best friend's face. The other boy stares at him, blue eyes wide with regret. As Castiel stammers out an apology, Dean holds his face and kisses him.
Castiel jumps, mouth open slightly when Dean pulls back. Castiel touches his fingertips to his lips. Castiel's heart pounds, then settles into an excited beat. The weeds of emotion growing in his chest finally bloom into flowers as Dean laughs and says, "I love you too."