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So close to deep diving into how to make cool ao3 skins so that I can make a destiel or just generally spn themed ao3 skin, because what would make the reading experience better and more heart breaking than the whole of the website being themed around them

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A hundred mini dreams and a healing scar

Plot: Dean thought getting Cas laid would be easy, turns out nothing with either of them ever really is.

In other words it is a Destiel fic set between 5x03 (Free to Be You and Me) and 5x04 (The End), btw this is the first chapter so is just 5x03

cw: There is kissing where one person (Dean) is drunk and the other (Cas) is not. There is also description of internalised homophobia

Word count: 1.5k

Note: The title is from the song Hugging You by Tom Rosenthal and Billie Marten. I'm sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes, I have proof read it a few times, but there is probably some stuff that has slipped past me as I'm not very good at that stuff

Link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68472296

It had all started with Dean saying “seriously dude, I’m not letting you die a virgin, we are getting you laid.”

At the time, Castiel had only tilted his head slightly, confused but curious, the way he always was when Dean got one of his, (for lack of a better term), stupid ideas. But Dean had a determined gleam in his eye, one that Cas couldn’t argue with or turn down.

It progressed to Dean dragging him into some roadside strip club just of the interstate. It was filled with the musky smell of sweat mixing with with cheap perfume, an unpleasantly scratchy pop song blaring over the speakers and neon lights flickering over half drunk middle aged men. The place reminded Castiel of everything the garrison had warned him about earth and humans, but Dean looked right at home, a beer in hand and a small childish grin on his face, which widened as he spotted a woman across the room and beckoned her over.

He looked over at Cas, nudging him forward - “Go on, man. You’ll be okay, she won’t bite…unless you want her to”

Castiel hesitated, looking over at Dean with an expression of sheer discomfort, he didn’t understand flirting or why he was supposed to want to be with this very sweet young lady, but he wanted to make Dean proud, so followed her down the hall, away from Dean’s view to a private room.

What had followed, was in Castiel’s words, ‘a sincere attempt at connection’, however this attempt had ended with him and Dean making a hasty escape back to the Impala. where Castiel had expected him to drive right off as if fleeing a crime. However Dean sat there, hand slapping his thigh, laughing at what had just gone down.

"I can’t believe you told her that Cas”, he said with a chuckle, “maybe the girls up in heaven appreciate the whole angelic psychoanalysis thing, but that’s not the go to method of flirting down here."

Castiel sat there, embarrassed, nervous that Dean was upset with him, but as Dean’s hysterics calmed down and he finally pulled out onto the road, there didn’t seem to be any disappointment within him.

They drove silently for most of the car ride back, Dean occasionally letting out a chuckle as moments from the night replayed in his mind. For a long while, driving down the empty road in front of him, everything felt okay, his friendship with Cas was solid,and Dean felt happy, not the fleeting artificial rush of dopamine he got from a bottle or a dirty joke, but the real thing, the tangible kind that settled in his chest, and that didn’t suddenly leave him feeling empty.

And for all it was worth, Cas felt it too, because despite all the mistakes he he’d made and damage he’d done, here and now, he was making Dean happy, and that was the most important thing.

Looking back, Dean sometimes wished that it would have stayed that way, that he wouldn’t have pushed…that he wouldn’t have continued to drink that night…that he wouldn’t have found that out about himself, however to his disgrace it did.

Later that night, back in the dingy motel room, Dean sat on the edge of his bed, a half empty bottle of whiskey in one hand, his boots kicked off onto the floor in front of him, his flannel open and hanging loosely over his shoulders. He was tipsy, in a joyfully hazy state that only ever came out when he felt truly safe.

Castiel was sat in the chair across from him, silently watching, awkwardly wringing his hands in his lap, unsure of what he was meant to do or say.

“Cas… what are we gonna do with you” Dean commented glancing over to the angel.

Castiel looked at him puzzled, “Do with me?”

Dean, setting the bottle down onto the floor with a chuckle continued, “you know, break the whole angelic celibacy phase before you kick the bucket… please tell me you’ve at least kissed someone?”.

Castiel paused before replying, “My vessel has done all of these things you think about Dean. You are aware he has a child, and what must have happened for that to be possible… but I, Castiel have not”.

Dean let out a low sigh, “Christ Cas, that’s just sad buddy... like pathetic soppy teen romance novel level sad”

Castiel didn’t seem to take offence, he just replied calmly, “I do not see it that way Dean. Intimacy is meant to be shared with someone you trust and love. Someone who knows you, and who you know. I have no desire to be close to a stranger... where is the connection? The emotion?”

“I dunno Cas” Dean said, shifting, “sometimes the emotion is just desire. You know, you see someone, think their hot and wanna get at it.” he paused, brow furrowing slightly before asking “You’ve seriously never felt that way Cas? Never seen someone and thought, ‘Damn I wanna kiss them’, or hell I dunno, even want to hold their hand?”

Castiel remained quiet for a moment before quickly saying, “No, Dean, I never said that”

Dean quickly became more alert, a playful grin returning to his face as he picked up the bottle and took another swig of whiskey. “So who is the lucky winged lady.”

Cas sat there staring at him. If Dean wouldn’t have been tipsy or so caught up in his fleeting thought of what angel sex would look like, he would have seen Castiel’s awkwardness shift to a slight look of flushed embarrassment, however Dean just about managed to pick up on Cas being nervous.

“Come on Cas… spill the beans, no ones listening”, he pried.

At that comment Cas looked around nervously, scanning the room for any presence

“Oh Cas" Dean teased, "she must be really special if you this nervous to tell me, come over dude, whisper it if you're that scared to say it out loud”.

Castiel stood, and crossed with room slowly making his way to Dean who sat up straighter to receive the information Cas was obviously so nervous to share with him.

Castiel stood in front of Dean awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with his limbs. Dean always wanted him out of his personal space, but he invited Castiel over this time, he wanted to be near him, this was new territory, and one Cas didn't now how to navigate.

“Sit down, dude”, Dean huffed, “don’t just stand there looking like a lost meerkat”.

Castiel obeyed Deans instructions and sat down next to him, their legs brushing up against each other.

Neither of them noticed a blush blooming on eachother's cheeks as they sat silently beside one another. Dean began to feel the happiness from earlier return with a wave of relaxation, whereas Castiel started to feel an unknown emotion course through his vessel, it was hot and powerful, and felt like his grace was humming beneath his skin, making his vision almost blurry.

Cas reached out a hand to Dean, but stoped before he could touch his shoulder “Is this okay Dean?”, he asked softly

Dean nodded not quite knowing what he was agreeing to. All he knew was that Cas wasn’t going to hurt him, and that right now, he felt content.

Castiel placed his hand gently on Dean’s shoulder, it quivering slightly as he turned Dean towards him.

Dean was lost in Cas’s eyes, deep, endless and familiar. In that moment there was no apocalypse, no Lilith, no angry father or dead mother, just Castiel and the safety of his embrace.

And then Cas leant in.

The kiss was soft, careful, like something cherished. However it was clumsy too, Castiel smiling as it happened, his teeth awkwardly brushing against Deans lip.

To the disgrace of Dean in the future months, he leant in, not because of adrenaline or impulse, but because he wanted to. For a few seconds he relaxed into the moment, and it felt different, strangely unlike anything he had ever done before. There was no heat of lust or frantic pull. It was like coming home to something he didn’t know he’d been missing.

But then it hit him.

This was Cas, this wasn’t just some girl he had met in a bar who he would never speak to again. This was Castiel. His best friend. An angel. A man.

Dean’s body stiffened as he pushed Cas back suddenly, the warmth that was between them seconds ago gone, and replaced by a cold detachment.

“Dude, im not gay”, Dean blurted out, his voice sounding too loud for the small room.

“I like women” he continued, trying to laugh it off, but the sound never came, “I’m… we’re not… this isn’t… I’m straight Cas”.

Castiel sat still, eyes locked on Dean, his head tiled slightly, “I’m sorry Dean”.

Somehow, those words made it worse

Dean looked away, anger flaring in his chest, at Cas, at himself, at everything.

“I’m getting another room”, he muttered, standing up, “and this, this never happened”

He clumsily slid on his shoes, and hastily rushed out refusing to look back as he slammed the door behind him.

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