Dean stumbled into the bunker's kitchen, eyes still half closed. Sam was sitting at the table, already fully dressed and wide awake, sipping coffee with his laptop opened before him.

Dean poured himself a cup and sat down across from him. 'Find anything?' he asked.

'Nope,' said Sam. 'There were three weird deaths this week, all the victims were cheating husbands, and I thought it could be a witch or something, but turns out it was just their wives. They were all in on it together.'

'Eh, people get crazy around Valentine's Day,' said Dean.

'Oh yeah, I forgot all about it – it's today, isn't it?'

Dean nodded.

'Well I'm going to go get some supplies,' said Sam, getting to his feet. 'There's nothing in the kitchen. Wanna come?'

'Way too early for that.'

'Fine. I'll be back soon.'

'Dude, don't forget the pie.'

Sam smirked and rolled his eyes as he pulled on his jacket. 'I won't.'

After Sam left, Dean stood up and stretched, his eyes shut tight. When he reopened them, he cried out and stumbled to the side, painfully banging his knee on the table.

'Dammit, Cas!' he cried. 'Some warning would be nice.'

Cas was standing right in front of him, clutching a paper bag.

'I would have thought you'd be used to it by now,' he said.

'Just – call first, or something,' said Dean, rubbing his knee. 'I woulda thought your time as a human would make you normal.'

Cas glared at him, and placed the paper back down on the kitchen counter.

'What's that?'

'I brought you pie,' said Cas, looking annoyed.

Dean sighed. Of course, he'd been a dick to Cas and Cas had done something thoughtful. Just his luck.

'Well, thanks. Sorry,' he said.

Cas picked up the bag again and handed it to Dean, and they sat across from each other at the table.

'Did you know that the tradition of giving diamonds on Valentine's Day only became common in the 1980's?' he said suddenly.

'Uh, no, I didn't.'

'And penicillin was discovered on Valentine's Day in 1928 …'

'Is that so?'

'… which is ironic, because penicillin is a common treatment for syphilis.'

Dean almost choked on his pie.

'Well that's romantic. Why are you tellin' me all this?'

Cas shrugged. 'I just thought you'd be interested in some fun facts.' He made air-quotes.

Dean went back to eating his pie, occasionally glancing at Cas. What the hell had gotten into him?

'I had lunch somewhere very interesting this last week,' said Cas.

'Lunch? What, you're eating now?'

'I miss eating. It was one of the things I enjoyed about being human. Since I got my mojo back, I haven't enjoyed PP&J, so I tried cake. No luck.'

'Huh.'

'Yes, but it was a café for gay people.'

Dean frowned, unsure of what Cas was getting at. 'Gay people.'

'Yes, they said it was a gay and lesbian café. Anyway, I met a very nice man. Unfortunately, I had to decline giving him my number, when I realised his intentions were romantic.'

'Is there a point to this story, Cas?' asked Dean, a strange feeling of annoyance twinged in his stomach.

'I know that we aren't meant to talk about it, but do you remember the pizza man?'

'The pizza–?' Realisation dawned on him. 'Oh … uh, yeah?'

'Well after I left the café I started thinking about the pizza man, so I went back to my motel room and watched pornography.'

'Cas, I really don't want to talk about this.'

'Why? You've talked about pornography around me many times.'

Dean didn't reply, because he couldn't think of one. Cas had a point. He used to talk about porn around Cas, before … well, before.

'The movie I watched this time featured a massage therapist and his client. They were both men.'

Dean spluttered. 'So you watched gay porn?'

'Yes, it was interesting.'

'So did it … you know …'

'What?'

'You know – float your boat?'

'Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about,' replied Cas.

'What?' said Dean nervously.

Cas took a deep breath, and Dean braced himself for what he thought was coming.

'I'm not totally ignorant, Dean. I understand the variance of human sexuality and I fully understand this may make you uncomfortable. But, I think you already know that I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings. And I've held back from telling you for so long, even while facing certain death, still unable to tell you out of fear of rejection. But our lives are getting more and more dangerous as the years go by, and I don't want to … well, die without telling you how I feel, and I don't want it to be the last thing I ever say to you either. I suspect you feel the same way for me. But maybe I'm wrong … am I?

Cas had looked very matter-of-fact during his speech, but an expression of vulnerability shined through on the last question.

Dean couldn't speak, couldn't move. He really didn't expect this. He always thought that one day, Cas may tell him how he felt, but he'd expected it to be in a moment charged with emotion, and perhaps danger. He took a deep breath. There was so much he wanted to say. This was the perfect time. He could tell Cas he felt the same, that he'd felt this way for years. There was no danger of being rejected or laughed at, because Cas brought it up first.

But when Dean spoke, it wasn't quite what meant to say.

'I – I have to get out of here.'

He scraped his chair back and went to leave, but Cas quickly stood and circled the table to place a hand on his shoulder.

'Please Dean, don't go.'

'I have to, Cas,' said Dean desperately. But he didn't want to. He wanted to stay. What was wrong with him?

'I'm sorry if I've upset you,' said Cas, but he was the one who looked really hurt. 'Let's just – forget it. I won't say another word about it. I want us to remain friends, Dean, I just want–'

Dean felt as if someone else was piloting his body, when he grabbed Cas roughly and silenced him with a kiss. He felt Cas seize up under his touch, but slowly the shock melted from him, and the nervousness from Dean, and Cas was pushing his hands up under Dean's shirt to stroke his back.

Cas felt amazing. Dean grunted and pushed him up against the kitchen counter. They kissed, passionately, wetly. Cas' fingers brushed over the waistband of Dean's pants, before Dean came to his senses. He broke the kiss and pulled away.

'I'm sorry,' said Cas, his voice hoarse. 'Is it too soon?'

Cas hair was ruffled, his lips were pink and swollen, his face flushed. Dean's heart jumped at the sight of him, and he couldn't hold back a smile.

'No, it's just that Sam will be back soon.'

'Oh … so … I take it you feel the way I do.'

Dean laughed nervously. 'Do you, uh, wanna take this to the bedroom?'

Cas' eyes widened. 'If you want to.'

Dean put an arm around Cas shoulder, and led him away.

'Happy Valentine's Day, Dean.'

'Happy Valentine's Day. Oh was that was the pie was for?'

Cas nodded.

'I didn't get you anything.'

'Whatever we're about to do should suffice.'

Dean chuckled nervously. They entered his bedroom and closed the door behind them.

Sam returned to the bunker an hour later. He'd gotten caught up in the book store and lost track of time. He rarely read for fun anymore, so he bought himself a copy of A Dance with Dragons, which he'd been planning to read for a long time, and he promised himself he would that night.

'Sorry I took so long,' he yelled to Dean. 'Don't worry, I got the pie last, so it's still hot … Dean?'

He couldn't see Dean anywhere. He walked to his bedroom door, and heard voices from the other side of the wood.

'… so which ever Saint Valentine the holiday was inspired by, the real man died rather painfully,' came Cas' voice.

'Cas, do you have any 'fun facts' that are actually fun?'

Sam turned around on the spot, crept away, then walked back to where he'd been standing, this time making his footsteps loud. He heard a rush of movement from inside Dean's bedroom.

'Dean, I'm back,' he called.

'Uh, cool.'

'Can I come in?'

'Not yet, I'm uh – not dressed.'

Sam's mouth dropped open. He decided there was so sense in lying. 'But Cas is in there with you … isn't he?'

A long silence.

'No …' said Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes. 'Dean, I heard him.'

'Sam, you're making Dean blush,' called Cas. 'Can you go away?'

Sam laughed, and he heard a thump, probably Dean punching Cas in the arm.

'I'll leave the pie in the microwave for you. Come out when you're ready.'

Sam walked back to the kitchen, grinning widely.

'About time,' he said quietly.