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“Cas, c'mere, we don’t need that stuff,” Dean insists, pulling Cas by the arm away from the obnoxiously colored art that littered the wall from floor to ceiling.
“But Dean, this photo tells me that believing in myself will grant me a smiling cat.” Cas points a finger up at the orange cat with a human grin and a speech bubble that says to believe in oneself.
Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, Cas, if you really want, you can get the cat.”
Cas aims the blinking red scanner gun at the barcode, eyes squinty and serious as he waits patiently for it to beep in confirmation.
As they walk through the expansive Bed Bath and Beyond store (more like a hell warehouse, Dean decides), Cas keeps yanking Dean to each inconsequential and useless thing that he can find: a wall clock that announces the time at every hour, an automatic sausage stuffer, a pair of porcelain red boots to decorate the garden that they don’t have.
Every item that will inevitably end up in their basement or garage, gathering dust, never to be used, Cas has a compulsive need to click the scanner gun at.
“Hey, Cas.” Dean intervenes the possibility of being the proud owner of a singing toothbrush. He grabs his fiance by the shoulder and stares into his innocent blue eyes. “Let’s focus on gettin’ the stuff we’ll actually use, capiche?”
Cas narrows his eyes in confusion. “Ca…piche.” He snakes his arm behind Dean’s back to not-subtly beep a lava lamp onto the list.
Dean glares. “I will leave this store. I am not afraid to.”
“But the lady you called obnoxiously chipper said she would come back and help us after we pick out some of our functional pieces for our registry.”
“Yes, Cas, FUNCTIONAL. Is any of this crap functional?” Dean holds up a fuzzy pillow shaped like a flattened, road-kill bunny that Cas had scanned minutes earlier to demonstrate.
Cas blinks and lowers his scanning weapon. He steps forward into Dean’s space, staring right up into his eyes. Dean glances at the people passing by, suddenly self-conscious. “What, Cas?”
Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, the heavy scanner bumping against Dean’s back. “I want to make our home welcoming,” he explains, his nose bumping against Dean’s. “I don’t care what it looks like. I am simply excited to build a happy home with you.”
Dean huffs out a sigh. Grudgingly wraps his arms around Cas’s waist and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, okay, Cas,” he blushes.