AN: Well, here it is; the last chapter. I really hope you've all enjoyed this and I really loved writing it. I have to say I have quite an unhealthy love for DeanxCas and it's been a blast to write this.

Umm, this chapter will be shorter than the last few, but it'll still be good. :) I was going to wait to write this but decided that I'd give everyone an Easter present. So happy Easter, I'm really hoping you all enjoyed this! Please leave feedback, I love to hear from you all.

Usual disclaimers apply- sadly I do not own Supernatural or anything affiliated with it, the cast or the writing. I totally wish, but seriously.

One last thing- who's excited about this next episode!? :O

One thing that Dean loved the most about his relationship with Cas was the simplicity of it all. There were no strings to hold, lines to cross or not cross, no worrying about acceptance. It was stupidly simple, really. But sometimes simplicity can be a disguised form of detailed sophistication. Dean was strange, a unique person with different character-he would admit that freely. He liked motorcycles and blueberry pancakes, and he liked dark haired cooks with a knack for making him laugh. Most of all he liked the lines he would have from those laughs. He liked the memories that would go with them.

Things fell in to place quickly. It seemed easy, really. Dean had never believed in love at first sight and never would. (Cas would try to tell him different.) One thing he did know was that a person could look up and meet someone's eyes and just know without a doubt that that person was going to impact your life. Cas said it was the same difference.

All Dean knew was that he loved it. Whatever you wanted to call it, he was on cloud nine. It was wonderful, all of it; the warmth of Castiel's body pressed against him in the morning, a book propped open on his chest while Cas read. Or their weekend trips on the motorcycle out to the woods, taking different hiking trails together each week, snapping ridiculous pictures of each other climbing trees, laughing and wading through babbling creeks.

Even weekdays weren't that bad. They had figured out work schedules so that they ended up having a day (or two if they were lucky) off during the week to spend together, even if it was just running errands. Then they had evenings and weekends together, which were all spent in bliss.

It had been two months since the night that Cas had seen his dad, also being the last time he heard from him. Eventually an unsigned post-card from Boston came in the mail, officially firming up the matter and settling it for good. Dean couldn't help but hope they had seen the last of the man, for good.

Cas had little to say on the matter, except that he felt extremely liberated. Dean watched as his persona changed, getting more carefree by the day. The trips to the homeless shelter had returned to their usual lengthy visits. Often, midnight would find them sitting on the back stoop of the grimy old building with a group of old men, swapping cigarettes for stories off the street. Cas loved to listen to them talk about their lives. He could listen for hours, sometimes taking up their offer for a cigarette, smoking quietly and listening to their stories. When he got home, he would write down what they had said, sometimes using Dean as a reference. He would tap his pen against his lips and look down at the page, asking Dean about a particular event or person. When he found what he was looking for, Cas would go straight back to his writing. Dean found it all quite old fashioned and endearing. One evening, Cas confessed he was compiling a book about the homeless men's lives, their stories and adventures. Dean was absolutely enthralled, and Cas even went as far as to let him have a copy of what he had written so far, albeit shyly.

Dean couldn't help but laugh sometimes when he thought about how diverse they were. Cas was writing a book, while Dean was teaching the dark haired man to ride a motorcycle. Cas in turn taught Dean how to make omelets, while Dean bought Cas a leather jacket of his own so he would stop stealing Dean's. It was really unbelievable how they balanced each other out so well. When Sam finally met Cas, he had told Dean not to lose him, as Cas was the best thing he'd ever seen for his big brother. That made Dean's day. Sometimes having the approval of a close friend- a brother- means more than anything.

It had been a long day at work for Dean. Since he had walked in at five that morning, he had dealt with an angry customer, a punk who had no idea what he wanted for his bike and wasted a good hour and a half of Dean's time trying to decide what decal he wanted painted on his siding, two biker ladies who had spilled coke in an engine, and the power had shut due to a power line that had been damaged down the street. Damn storm. On top of all that, it was only four in the afternoon. He still had two hours before he was off work.

By the time Dean had finished, he had succeeded in completing two items from his lengthy to-do list. It didn't help any that Bobby came out and gave Benny a lecture in front of the whole crew. Granted, it was Benny's fault. He had half-assed a job and it ended up with a few of the guys having to work together to get it done before they could even start cleaning up shop to work up.

The clock had just struck six thirty when Dean clocked out. He had worked a little later than he was supposed to, but it didn't really matter to him as long as he was done working for the day. Making his way outside, he climbed onto his bike and kick-started the engine. The motor roared to life, settling to a low growl as Dean settled down in the seat. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the handlebar, he laughed. A smudge of grease ran across his face, slightly matting his sideburns. Looking down at his clothes, he realized exactly how dirty he was and briefly considered going to change before heading to the diner. The idea was quickly dropped when his stomach growled in reminder that he had skimped on lunch, busy cleaning out the coke out of the bike engine. Dean motored his way across town, weaving in and out of the regular traffic until he reached the diner.

Before he walked in, Dean could smell burgers and steak cooking. Out of all his smells, that had to be one of his favorites- right up there along with the way it smelled after it rained, the way Cas smelled faintly of campfire smoke and fresh bread, and the way an old garage smelled of car grease and metal parts. He breathed the scent in deeply, making his way through the diner doors.

At first glance, Dean knew his cook wasn't in the room. He returned a wave from Jo, shooting her a smile as she took a customer's order. Eric appeared briefly, rushing from one room to another carrying a stack of loaded plates. Content to wait until Cas was free, Dean made his way over to his usual corner booth.

As he neared the table, a wide, surprised grin settled across his face. Sitting down at the table, he picked up a fork and looked at the large slice of apple pie sitting on a plate in front of him, steam still rising from the edges and neat slits across the golden brown top. Besides the pie there was a rootbeer with a blue bendy straw. Dean laughed, running a hand through his hair. Across the room, Cas looked through the kitchen window, meeting Dean's smile with one just as bright.

If nothing else had said anything about them, if there was nothing else that had happened, that would've settled it. In that moment, Dean knew he was hopelessly in love with the dark haired cook. And he was perfectly okay with admitting it.

AN: Like I said, sorry it's short. But I'm content with this ending and I really, really enjoyed writing this. Thank you all for the reviews and for the favorites, and the ones I've been talking to. (You know who you are :) This is the last chapter for this story, but I've been working on another one so that'll be up soon. Anyway, thank you all so much. I hope I've done the tumblr post justice by you guys, hahaha :)

-love y'all,

Ash