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Grandmothers, am I right?

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Castiel had always been the type to keep to himself, even if he was with his family. He would much rather spend the day in a coffee shop on a rainy day alone than deal with his siblings on a beach day. I mean, who wouldn’t?

But then Castiel decided to move out of his parent’s house and into a one bedroom apartment across town.

Castiel’s parents were hesitant, of course, at first because they barley see him as is when he’s in the house. But they eventually let him go off anyway, not wanting to relive the ‘I’m eighteen and am basically a legal adult,’ conversation like they had with his other three siblings.

The apartment Castiel choose was small, very small, but Castiel ignored his family’s constant nagging. It was perfect for him, that’s all that mattered.

Castiel was a very simple man, only needing very few things to get him through life. He had a job at the bookstore down the street that helped payed his apartment’s expenses, and traveled down the street a bit more to the small convenience store that sat on the corner. It had all the food Castiel needed to live, so he didn’t see the point in walking further into the city to a Target or Wal-Mart.

Castiel thought he was happy with his life. That is, until he heard a knock on his door.

His family hardly ever bothered him, but if they did, they would often call or text ahead before just coming up and knocking on his door.

With furrowed eyebrows, Castiel got up from his couch and answered the door, and was very surprised at what, or in this case who, was behind it.

A man, about Castiel’s age, stood quite awkwardly, his hands jammed into the pockets of a worn leather jacket. His sandy blond hair stood out in some places, and his very green eyes shone with apology.

“Hi,” the man said after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hello, can I help you?” Castiel asked, very confused as to why a stranger was at his door.

“Yeah, listen I just moved in across the hall,” the man gestured behind him to the door labeled with number eight.

Castiel raised his eyebrows, mentally kicking himself later for interrupting the man, “Moved in? What happened to Mrs. Winchester?”

The man chuckled, “Nothing happened, I just moved in with her. I’m her grandson, Dean.”

Grandson? Castiel couldn’t recall if Mrs. Winchester ever mentioned her family, or anything for that matter. She was the only neighbor of his Castiel could stand, but she often nagged him about staying in his apartment for to long. And, if he wasn’t seen by her for more that a week, she would come running the door down with soup and baked goods for Castiel just to make sure he wasn’t held up in bed sick.

“Oh, is she alright?” Castiel asked, feeling a bit guilty that he hadn’t been more kind to her after all she had done for him.

Dean nodded, “Yeah, she’s great. Just cooking some pie for later,”

There was a moment of silence before Castiel cleared his throat, “I don’t mean to be rude, but is there a reason that you’re here?”

A blushed danced across Dean’s face, “Yeah, she wanted me to come over and invite you for pie saying, “I haven’t seen that boy for days, go on over there and talk to him,” and well, I can’t really deny her a request, being my grandmother and all."

Castiel gave a small smile, "She does seem to have a habit of always checking up on me,”

Dean shrugged, looking back to his grandmother’s apartment door with a smile on his face, “Grandmothers, am I right? I think it’s just instinct,”

Castiel nodded in agreement, not knowing what to say next.

“So?” Dean asked, looking expectantly at the other man.

“So?”

“Will you come over? Or would you rather my grandma to come busting down the door guns blazing with food to feed you for weeks?”

Castiel paused before answering, did he really want to? He wasn’t the kind of person to just all of a sudden break his shell that he built for years just because a beautiful man with green eyes asked him to hang out with him and his grandmother. Just this once, he thought as he accepted Dean’s request.

Oh he was so wrong.