Dean was teaching Cas how to rollerblade. He'd spotted the cheap pair in the window of a thrift shop and bought them on impulse, reminded of how much he'd wanted his own pair when he was ten. But anyway, he thought it was going well. Well, Cas had managed to balance for more than a few seconds on his own. Dean was just starting to congratulate himself when it all went to shit. Cas must've hit a rock or something because he was suddenly wobbling, arms pinwheeling in an almost comical attempt to regain his balance, before his knees smacked the pavement and he hissed in pain.

Dean cursed himself for letting the former angel buy shorts as Cas sat back on his ass, displaying his newly scraped knees. It was strange to see a grown man, let alone one that used to be invincible, with such childish injuries. Of course, that didn't stop him from rushing over and resting his hand on the other man's shoulder, "Jesus Christ, Cas, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He grunted, "Just help me get these things off." He gestured angrily at his feet.

"Oh." Dean leaned down to start untying the laces. "Oh right."

They sat in silence until Cas was in his socks and Dean offered him a hand up. He pulled Cas tight to his side as they walked to the door, leaving the rollerblades abandoned on the sidewalk. "'M sorry." He whispered beside Cas' ear.

"It wasn't your fault." Cas replied as he sat on the edge of the bathtub.

"Yeah, well, I can still feel bad, right?" Dean's voice was muffled as he rummaged through the closet for hydrogen peroxide (if they were on a hunt he would just use whiskey but they were in a home and they had homey things so they were going to goddamn use them).

"If you must." Cas sighed as Dean returned with the dark brown bottle. Dean held his hand as he poured it over the scrapes. As they fizzed, Cas' nails bit into Dean's palm but he didn't make a sound.

After what little blood there was had been wiped away Dean insisted they needed to ice the bruises. Cas thought that might be a bit excessive but he didn't object as Dean led him into the kitchen and directed him to sit on the counter. He pulled a pack of frozen strawberries out of the freezer and held them against Cas' knees, smiling a little as he said "Sam likes to make fruit smoothies. He prefers the fresh stuff, but we're gone too much for it to stay, you know, fresh. So he gets frozen stuff."

Cas didn't really know what to say to that so he didn't say anything and they lapsed into comfortable silence again. He watched Dean fiddle with the corner of the slowly thawing strawberry package for a while before saying, "You don't have to feel bad."

Dean wouldn't meet his eyes, "'Course I do, Cas. You got hurt."

"Dean." When he didn't look up again, Cas pulled the strawberries out of his hands gently and set them next to him. Dean's hands fell limply onto Cas' thighs. He used his index finger to tilt Dean's chin up. "I was always going to get hurt. It's better it happened outside the bunker than on a hunt, right?"

"I guess." Dean conceded gruffly. "I'm just waiting for you to realize how bad I am for you. I thought this might be it."

"Dean Winchester." Cas said softly, pressing a light kiss to Dean's lips. He leaned his forehead against Dean's, "I am not going to stop loving you because of skinned knees."

Dean leaned back and ducked his head to hide his blush. The blush that Cas loved, the one that made his freckles stand out even more. To bring Dean's gaze back up, Cas grabbed Dean's hands and lifted them to his lips. It wasn't meant to be sexual, just a distraction tactic. But as his kisses grazed fingertips, he couldn't help but smile.

"What?" Dean breathed, leaning in ever so slightly.

Cas' breath was warm against his knuckles as he spoke, "Tastes like strawberries."