DAY TWO: FIRST DATE

Dean ran around his house frantically, trying to piece everything together. There could not be a speck of dirt on the floor, or even one piece of silverware in the wrong place. 

Everything had to be perfect.

This was his first date with the man of his dreams, and  the last thing he wanted to do was make a bad first impression. If he couldn't make this date the best thing ever, the chances of Seth not  reciprocating these feelings was even higher. 

Dean had never loved someone more than he loved Seth. 

"Dean? Dean, where you at?" 

Dean perked up. "Who is it?" 

"Roman." 

"Oh." 

He got back to his work, ignoring the stomping of the Samoan as he ran about the house, trying to find his frantic friend. Roman knew how much Dean loved Seth, and he knew that this date meant the world to the lunatic. He promised to come over to help set things up, but apparently Dean had forgotten. 

"Dean, where the fuck are you?" Roman griped. "I promised I'd come help, but I'm kind of useless if you don't come here and tell me what I can do." 

Dean popped out of the kitchen, frosting all over his face. It was a buttercream color, and Roman was thankful, otherwise he'd be questioning what Dean had been doing...

"What, Roman?" 

"I'm here to help." 

Roman entered the kitchen to see Dean slaving over a two layered round cake. The cake was chocolate, Seth's favorite flavor, with a nice buttercream frosting on top. Dean had the piping beside him, ready to make decorations. Sprinkles also joined the bunch. 

"Do you think Seth will like this?" 

"I think so. From what I know, chocolate is his favorite." 

"And the buttercream frosting?" 

"It's delicious. I once gave him a piece of cake with this type of frosting and he loved it. Even complimented how yummy the frosting was." 

"When did you give him cake?" 

"Uh...when you two came over for my birthday party last year?" 

"Oh, yeah. Right. I knew that." 

"Anyway...what else are you working on?" 

"I need to finish up dinner, set up the table, light the candles, dim the lights, get dressed-"

"Woah, woah, woah! Slow down, Dean! One thing at a time. Alright, first thing: dinner. What are we having?" 

"Well, you're not eating with us, so 'we' are not having anything." 

"Not what I meant, Dean. What are you making for dinner?" 

"Well, he loves Spaghetti and Meatballs, so I was just going to make some of that. Do that thing there like Lady and the Tramp where they share a piece of Spaghetti." 

"Do you have the meatballs already made?" 

"They're cooking. They're in the crockpot." 

"I'll make the Spaghetti. What else while the water is boiling?" 

"Setting up the table." 

"You're using the table, Dean." 

"I can move this to the counter." 

Roman stopped him. "Here, let me do it. You'll drop it and quite frankly, I don't think I can handle you having a breakdown right now over cake." 

Dean gave a small, embarrassed smile. "Thanks, Roman. You know me well." 

Roman lifted the platform and steadied the cake, slowly walking it over to the counter. "I'd hope so; I've known you for most of my life." 

Dean picked up the rest of his materials and scurried over to the counter where he continued his frosting. The piping was to come next and then sprinkles spread everywhere. 

Roman put a sponge to the table and scrubbed up the extreme mess Dean's cake had left behind. He couldn't believe how incredibly messy Dean was, but he couldn't blame him; he was the exact same way. 

After cleaning everything up, he set a nice baby blue tablecloth down onto the table, smoothing it out. He set the plates down, putting them across from each other rather than at either end of the table; he felt like they'd be too far apart. How could they hold hands when they were like 10 feet away from each other? Roman knew that was an obvious exaggeration, but still. 

The silverware was set and so were the wine glasses. Candles sat on either side, ready to be lit. Roman didn't do that yet because for one: he didn't want Dean to end up burning himself on accident and for two: he didn't want them to burn up too quickly, or for the flame to blow out. 

The dimming of the lights would also come later; that was for Dean and Seth to handle. 

Now, all that was left to do was get Dean his clothes. He ran upstairs and picked through Dean's closet. Man, he really didn't have much to wear, did he? It was mostly jeans and his muscle shirts. Didn't he have anything remotely fancy? Classy? Even just nice? 

He found nothing of the sort, so he went with a pair of jeans with a nice red button down shirt. This should make Dean look great. It appeared natural, but classy. 

He set the clothes on Dean's bed. It would be up to him whether or not he wore his boots, too; after all, they were inside his house, not at a fancy restaurant or whatnot.

Roman went back downstairs to find Dean throwing sprinkles all over the cake. The little rainbow beads went everywhere, making Roman chuckle. Dean jumped, turning to see his Samoan friend in the doorway. It wasn't until then that he noticed the table was set. 

"You get stuff done quickly, don't you?" 

"Damn right. I didn't promise to come help you for nothing, Dean-o." 

"Did you pick out my clothes? You know I have horrible style." 

Roman laughed. He completely agreed. "Yes, Dean. All set. It's laid out on your bed. I didn't pick out any shoes because I didn't know if you'd be wearing them since the date is in your house and all." 

"Probably not. Just to be more comfortable. I'll tell Seth he can take his shoes off at the door." 

Roman nodded. "Sounds like a plan." 

"Alright, how does it look?" 

Dean stepped back proudly to show his work. The cake had a nice design, sprinkles littering it. Roman had to admit, it did look nice, especially for someone like Dean who was horrible at cooking most of the time. 

"I love it. I think Seth will, too." 

Dean smiled, beaming with pride. "Thanks, Ro. Think you can handle the Spaghetti while I go get dressed?" 

Roman agreed. It'd be better this way, anyway. The last time Dean made pasta, not only did he overcook it, he spilled boiling water on himself when trying to check the pasta since he was too short to see over the pan. 

Roman still didn't understand why he used a pan too big for him. 

....

Finally, everything was prepared. 

Roman had left. 

And Dean was feeling the nerves. 

He paced about until the doorbell rang. Even though he didn't want to, he rushed over to the door. Seth wore black jeans with a black button down shirt, leaving his long hair to flow over his shoulders. The blonde streak in his hair was slowly fading, but it complimented the outfit nicely. 

"Hey, Dean," Seth greeted, his bright smile making Dean's tummy do flips. 

"Hey, Seth," Dean replied, trying not to stammer over his words. "Come in!" 

Seth stepped in, closing the door. "Should I take my shoes off?" 

"It's completely up to you. I just thought it'd make you a little more comfortable, you know?" 

Seth agreed and removed his shoes, setting them neatly near the door. 

Dean led Seth to the table, pulling out his chair for him to sit down, and then pushing it back in. He went across and sat down. 

"Ooh, Spaghetti? You know me well, Ambrose." 

"I-I do?" 

"Yes, you do. I love Spaghetti and Meatballs!" 

Dean smiled. "I'm glad." 

The two chatted and ate their dinner together peacefully. So far, everything had been going well. Dean was proud of himself and how well he had set everything up. Seth seemed to be enjoying himself and the food, too. 

"Hey, Dean, have you seen Lady and the Tramp?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"Did you wanna try doing that thing with the Spaghetti?" 

Dean blushed. Apparently Seth had the same idea. "Yeah, I actually did want to try that." 

Seth smirked and gave Dean one end of a noodle and took the other one into his mouth. All was well until Dean sucked on the noodle too hard and broke it. 

Seth giggled. Dean was embarrassed. 

"Don't worry, Dean, it's never worked for me," Seth said, trying to lighten the mood. He could tell Dean felt bad. "It's just fun to try." 

Dean took care of their dirty plates and set up clean ones. He brought over the cake. 

"Here's dessert, if you're up for it." 

"Dean, I'm always up for dessert. And this looks delicious!" 

"Well, thank you. It's chocolate cake with buttercream frosting." 

"My favorite! Wow, you seem to know me well." 

Dean smiled and cut the cake. He went to put a piece onto Seth's plate when it tipped and fell onto his lap. 

"Oh, my god, Seth, I'm so sorry!" 

Dean was becoming angry with himself. First the noodle and now the cake? What was wrong with him? 

As he went over to help, he knocked over his glass and spilled his drink everywhere. 

This night was now turning into a big fat failure. 

Seth put the cake back onto the plate, using a napkin to wipe himself off. He took some of the frosting from his lap and scooped it with his finger, trying it. He thought it was absolutely delicious. Dean had done a good job on this. 

"That frosting is delicious." 

It wasn't until he looked up that he saw a frantic Dean trying to clean up everything. He could tell by the way his jaw was tightening  that he was frustrated.

Dean's eyes stung as tears threatened to escape. He was so embarrassed and couldn't believe this happened. He was so stupid to think that he could pull this off; he should have just let Seth do it instead. He can barely plan a party without something going wrong, what made him think this was going to work out? 

Seth stood up and went over to Dean, who was mopping up the mess he made by spilling his drink. He stopped Dean and took the mop, putting it aside. 

"Seth, I'm trying to clean everything up." 

Dean refused to look up. He didn't want to see the daunting, disappointed expression that Seth was likely holding. 

"Dean, slow down for a second," Seth said. "Everything is fine." 

"I messed everything up." 

"No, you didn't," Seth replied. "So we had a couple of oopsies, who cares? I've had fun with you all night, Dean." 

"R-Really? Even though I kind of spilled things on you?" 

"Yes, Dean." 

Dean slowly peeked up at him. Slowly, the two leaned in and kissed. The sparks flew immediately. 

"I've had fun with you, too, Seth." 

"Next time, just be yourself. That's all I want." 

Dean chuckled. "Alright, Seth. Next time, your house?" 

"Definitely. And I have a very large bed for us to cuddle on..."

Dean blushed. "Oh, do you now?" 

"Mhmm," Seth smirked. "But, I'm sure you do,  too." 

Before Dean could stop him, the two were headed up the stairs and towards Dean's bedroom. 

"We'll eat the cake after," Seth added as he closed the door.