once & done: destiel one shots

with icing on top (the cupcake shop AU)

For diminuel, who posted an adorable picture of a cupcake shop to Twitter, and my brain ran with it.

Summary: It starts with a honey cake.

+

It starts with a honey cake.

Sam is visiting from Stanford and insists on playing tourist, even though they grew up in Lawrence and literally know all the best places-there's no reason to try the latest trend, a freaking cupcake shop, when he can get Salted Honey pie at Ladybird Diner. But Sam pulls up in front of a clean white storefront with a large picture window and the words "Life is just a cup of cake" stenciled over the door in whimsical lettering. Dean can just picture the proprietor, a pink-faced woman pushing sixty in a frilly pink apron handing out cupcakes to a bunch of grubby-handed kids.

"I read about this place on Yelp," Sam says, like Dean knows what Yelp is.

He glares out the passenger window. "I'll wait in the car."

"Fine," Sam agrees without further argument and climbs out. Dean follows him with a sigh-how often is Sam home anymore now that he's planning to become a big-time lawyer?-and winces as the chimes announce their arrival.

It doesn't look the way he thought a cupcake shop would. The counter is honey-stained wood, and overhead are industrial-style lights. A chalkboard lists today's special flavors in tidy handwriting: banana with salted caramel peanut butter, lemon with blackberry buttercream, honey cupcakes with honey cream cheese frosting. Across the top, someone has written, "A cupcake is happiness with icing on top."

There's no pink in sight-not in the decor and not on the cheeks of the person behind the counter, not a middle-aged woman but a guy, a young guy about Dean's age, with dark tousled hair and an unassuming gray t-shirt. Dean watches him photograph cupcakes on a tiered stand, protected by a sheet of glass.

"Instagram," the guy explains, smiling as Sam approaches. He sets his phone on the counter. "How can I help you?"

"I'll take the double chocolate with chocolate ganache and a latte." Sam turns to look at Dean over his shoulder. "You want anything?"

"Uh, I'm good," Dean says, eyeing the display.

"Are you sure?" the guy asks, punching Sam's order into the register-which isn't a register at all but an iPad on some fancy metal stand. They probably bake their cupcakes in the cloud, wherever that is. "I grind the coffee fresh every morning."

"Alright, yeah. I'll take a small."

"Nothing to eat?"

"I don't really like cake," Dean answers, which is probably rude considering he's in a cupcake shop, but the guy did ask.

"Do you like cornbread?"

"It's okay," Dean replies with a shrug.

The guy gives him a closed-mouth smile and tells Sam his total, puts one chocolate cupcake on a small black tray, on a white square plate, and prepares Sam's order.

"One latte for you," he says, sliding it over. "And a small coffee," he adds, turning around for a mug.

"I'll grab a seat," Sam says, taking the tray and heading toward the window.

Dean waits while the guy pours a cup of coffee and places it on a second tray with an empty white plate. He takes a golden cake from the case and drizzles it with honey.

"It's on the house," he says, sliding the tray over.

"Thanks, man, but you don't have to do that."