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Dean definitely didn’t want a cat.
“What’s wrong with getting an owl, Cas? Owls are dead useful, and they don’t make me sneeze.” Dean whined to his boyfriend, who had just stated, completely out of the blue that he wanted a cat.
Well, not completely out of the blue. Dean always knew that Cas had a soft spot for the little balls of furry murder, but it never crossed his mind that he actually wanted one.
In hindsight, that was a very dumb thing to think.
“You already have an owl, Dean. Why do we need two owls in one apartment? Chevy is a very capable owl, and does not need another owl trying to usurp her mail-delivering duties.” Cas was standing next to Chevy, Dean’s saw whet owl, who fluffed up her feathers and preened at Cas’ words. Dean glared at him.
“You’re just trying to butter her up.”
“I don’t need to butter her up.”
That was true. Chevy loved Cas almost immediately, and took to sitting on his head or his shoulders as he moved about the apartment.
“Fine. What about my allergies?”
“There are perfectly reasonable ways to manage cat hair allergies. There are no-maj drugs, and the potions that have been developed are even more effective.”
Dean sighed. It looked like they were getting a cat.
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Cas was insistent that his cat come from a no-maj shelter.
“Cas, really. If we have to get a cat, why are we not getting a sensible, magical cat? Victor’s cat is part kneazle and is actually useful, he’s not just a regular animal.”
“These are cats that have been abandoned, Dean. They need homes. Why would I go get a fancy pet that is assured a lovely life and home if there are hundreds of perfectly fine cats who need homes right here?”
“We’re not getting a hundred cats, Cas.”
“I didn’t say we were, I’m simply saying there are many cats that need homes, and we are able to provide a hospitable environment for a cat, magical or otherwise.”
“Merlin’s balls, we’re getting a hundred cats, aren’t we?”
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They went to the local shelter later in the week, after Cas had dragged Dean to the pet store, where they had a perfectly silent argument about what supplies they needed for their new kitten.
“We just need food and a box for it to shit in, this isn’t fucking arithmancy. It’s a damn furball.”
“Dean, we can’t just buy any old food we find, we need to look at the ingredients and decide which type will be best for the kitten.”
“Or we could just get whatever is the most cost effective.”
Castiel turned and glared at his boyfriend.
“We are not getting whatever is cheapest, you ass.” A woman standing nearby who had been glancing at the two men silently staring at bags of cat food jumped when he spoke out loud.
“FIne.” And he switched back to their link. “Which brands are we looking at then? What ingredients are on your list here?”
“Well, I’d like to stay away from any that have an excess of grain. High protein and fish are preferred, though according to my research it’s best to give your cat a variety of both dry and wet foods…”
They settled on some hideously overpriced dry food, and about a dozen cans of wet food with names like “tuna dream” and “salmon safari”.
Cas insisted on finding the litter box that was most aesthetically pleasing to him. Dean supposed they had the advantage of being able to use magic to keep it clean, so they weren’t too concerned with ease of cleaning or the possible mess the box could make. But really, Dean would buy any litter box Cas picked out. He wandered away while Cas was looking at the boxes to look at the toys.
“Cas, come look at what I found!”
“Where are you?”
“Toys, dude. Just come see!”
Castiel walked around to the next aisle to see Dean holding up a toy.
“It’s like a wand! It shoots light out the end, look!”
“It’s a laser pointer.”
“It’s hilarious, why is this a cat toy?”
Castiel sighed. Dean thought it was probably some form of fond exasperation.
“Trust me, cats love those. But we can accomplish the same thing with a spell, plus we won’t have to buy batteries. And I’m not entirely sure it would hold up around magic.”
Dean was disappointed, but he thought it was probably true.
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That weekend, Dean and Castiel headed to the shelter to get a kitten. Dean made sure to drink his allergy potion ahead of time, resigned to probably drinking it every morning for the rest of his life.
The woman working at the shelter gave them a run down of the rules.
“So, you can head on back there after you wash your hands. If you want to play with any of the younger kittens that are in the cages, you can, but we ask that you take them into one of the side rooms, because they’re so little that they tend to get lost in the shuffle in the big room!” She laughed, and laid her arm on Cas’ shoulder, a little too familiarly, if you ask Dean. “If you find one that you particularly seem to bond with, just come and let us know, and we will take care of the rest! If you have any questions at all, please don’t hesitate to come find me, I’m here to help you with anything you need while you’re here!” She looked Cas up and down as she offered her assistance.
“Yeah, Cas. If you need your dick sucked while we’re here, make sure you ask Roxanne, she’d just love to help you out!” Dean chirped over to Cas through their link.
Cas’ cheeks reddened, and he said aloud, “Thank you, Roxanne,” after which he responded to Dean, “You’re a dick.”
“Takes one to know one, babe.”
When they entered the Cat Room, Dean feared that he had lost Cas forever.
While Dean decided to only pet the truly needy cats that wouldn’t leave him alone, Castiel took his time and seemed to pat every single cat in the room at least once. After a long while, he chose one of the kittens, and took it to the room off to the side while Dean watched through the glass window.
Cas looked enamored with the little gray cat. It chased after his fingers, his shoelaces, and even crawled up the back of shirt to bat at some of the unruly tufts of his hair. Dean could feel his previous surliness melt, and probably had gooey eyes, watching his boyfriend play with a kitten, which was admittedly adorable.
Cas looked up and saw Dean staring at him. He waved Dean into the room.
“What do you think of this one?” He asked, clearly trying to sound nonchalant, but Dean could tell he was already attached.
“He’s cute.”
“I think it’s a she.”
“Yeah, well if she tries to eat Chevy, she’s out.”
“Dean, she’s not going to try to eat Chevy.”
“She might.”
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Castiel named the kitten “Ion.”
“Ion is a boy’s name, Cas. You can’t name a girl kitten Ion.”
“Ion doesn’t care for you traditional gender roles, Dean.”*
Dean just rolled his eyes with a small smile.
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Weeks later, Castiel woke late on a Saturday morning after Dean had already woken, to find his boyfriend napping on the couch with “that damn cat” cuddled up under Dean’s chin.
The photographic evidence of the nap (and resultant bonding) stayed on their fridge for a very very long time.