inkaddict1978

[inkaddict1978]

Oh my God. New Dean/Cas gives me life.

#5 “No, I’m just- uh- sensitive.” with Dean and Cas?

Prompt 5 - "No, I'm just- uh- sensitive."

A/N: oh man it's a throwback... let's go!!!! to quote @nhasablogg: what in the 2014 is happening here

…

Dean twitched again as Castiel’s hand passed the middle of his back, just between the shoulder blades. Castiel watched him with a twinkle of concern.

He had come in and sat down on the couch at Dean’s invitation earlier, only for Dean to then lounge across the couch and his lap, laying face down on a pillow and popping some reruns on the TV. Cas had taken it upon himself to shower the hunter with a little affection and check to make sure he was uninjured after their last outing. This led to Cas rubbing his back and neck here and there, and some affectionate tracing along his skin (perhaps also a ploy to check for sore muscles or knots) to see if he could help Dean feel a bit better.

“What’s wrong, Dean?”

“Nothin’.” Dean hummed against the pillow on the arm of the couch. “S’fine.”

Cas continued tracing along the muscles of Dean’s shoulders, pushing in when he sensed a knot and massaging here and there. He ran a few fingers along his spine up to his neck and Dean flinched again.

“Dean.” Cas stressed, stopping his ministrations.

“It’s fine, Cas. I’m… it’s just- uh- sensitive there.”

Castiel leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the human’s expression to better read him. He seemed content, happy even, he wasn’t getting up or moving away. He wasn’t hiding anything… any injury, right? Cas noticed a rosy coloring on the tip of his ear. He smiled gently.

“Sensitive.?” He inquired softly, starting to curl his fingers again along the back of Dean’s neck and over his shoulder, along his back. The thin t-shirt was soft under his fingertips, and it must have been on Dean’s skin as well. Dean squirmed again, digging himself deeper into the couch and Cas’s lap. Cas caught a strangled bit of a laugh almost made its way through the pillow. He smiled a little as he caught on.

“Sensitive… like you are here?” Cas continued, and suddenly his other hand was scratching at Dean’s ribcage.

Dean squawked at the new, more directly ticklish contact. He curled onto his side. “Hehheehe- wait! Nohohohohohooo!” He laughed, his blushing face now free. Cas caught sight of his delightful smile and felt warm.

“Can I get you to laugh like this if I try tickling back here?” Cas said curiously.

Dean protested through his laughs as he squirmed about, still tired, but didn’t do much to actually stop the ticklish attack. Cas drew both hands back and started to make the same spidering motions along the backs of Dean’s ribs and tracing up and down his spine. He scribbled at Dean’s neck, then at the small of his back. Dean laughed all the same, twitching and twisting until he finally squirmed his way onto his back, facing the angel. He caught Castiel’s hands in his and Cas stopped for a moment, taking in his wild eyes and fierce blush in contrast with his freckles.

“Heh- yeesh. You trying to kill me?” Dean laughed, closing his eyes under the scrutiny.

“You have a very sweet laugh.” Castiel said, smiling as Dean squirmed at the compliment too. “And a very ticklish back.” Another squirm.

“Shut up. You’re probably worse.” Dean scoffed.

“Well, maybe you’ll find out one day.”

Dean looked back up at him, raising an eyebrow with a little smirk. “Wanna find out?”

“Not now.” Cas smirked after he spoke, and Dean gave him a bewildered look before fingers fluttered along his stomach and began pinching his sides, and Dean lost his protests to laughter once again.

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further SPN drabbles on ao3]

[inkaddict1978]

June. June was supposed to be nice. It was supposed to be “take Baby for a long drive, windows down, with no destination in mind for once” nice. Instead it was cold, 40’s at best, and the pattering of drops on the windows didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. It was starting to get on Dean’s nerves. The 4 friends were lounging around in their cozy little living room, “Ramble On” playing softly from the speakers in the far corner.

Sam was in the recliner, scrolling on his laptop. Dean didn’t need to see the screen to know he was searching for their next case. Always the diligent one. Cas was on one end of the couch, nose deep in some new “book of the week” that he had become addicted to. The sight made Dean’s stomach flutter, something he was still trying to get used to. Eileen was on the loveseat, watching tv, surely some reality show that Dean would pretend not to be interested in, but secretly be sad when it ended. Dean was currently propped up in the corner of the couch, opposite Cas, with a magazine in hand, not really focusing on the print, mind distracted.

He was fidgeting, too. He knew it, but he hoped no one else had noticed. He wasn’t used to sitting still, at least not for long periods of time, and his hands itched to be doing something, other than holding the paper distraction. He kept shifting slightly, couch creaking with each move, and every so often one of the other’s eyes would roam over to him, their look questioning. It never lasted long, but Dean would duck his head back into the magazine every time, avoiding the stare. His heart was starting to race, and he willed himself to slow it down. He could do this, dammit. He could relax. He just needed to practice. He wasn’t used to the semi-retired, non-hunting lifestyle. So sue him. It would take some getting used to. He shifted again, trying to return his focus back to his reading, but apparently fate had other plans in store for him today.

“Dude what’s the matter with you?” Sam asked, voice laced slightly with irritation. You’re like a nervous ball of energy, and it’s been radiating throughout the room for the last hour. What gives, man?”

Damn it, Sam was always the intuitive one. Dean couldn’t get anything past him.

He tried to play it off with a scoff, schooling his features into a look that implied as though Sam’s comment was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. In reality, he wished Sam could read his mind, so Dean didn’t have to use his words to communicate his emotions. He’d never been very good at that. For the moment though, he wished Sam would just drop it and leave him alone.

“I know when something’s bothering you” Sam continued “so just tell us what’s going on.”

No such luck.

Truth was, Dean didn’t know what was wrong, exactly. He’d slept well, eaten, and was currently nursing a beer. All his basic needs were met and he should have been grateful for the rest. But for some reason, even in a room full of others, he felt alone. His skin was cold, despite the warmth in the room, and he was itching for some sort of physical contact. Everyone seemed so far away, despite the close proximity of the furniture. What the hell was wrong with him? He rolled his eyes at himself. He needed to snap out of it. He wasn’t sharing with the class, especially something as emotionally confusing as this. Suffer in silence. That was his MO.

Apparently no one was willing to allow him that luxury today, because Cas, who had averted his attention away from his book to observe the brother’s exchange for the last several minutes, chose that moment to join the conversation.

“Dean, you do seem more restless than usual. What’s the matter with you?” Cas paused, waiting for Dean to respond. Dean pulled a face that clearly conveyed “leave me alone” without having to verbalize it. Either that, or he was trying to think of a lie. Cas must have thought the latter, because he followed up his previous question with “and don’t lie to me. You know it won’t end well.”

Dean schooled his features, giving Cas a challenging glare. Who did he think he was? Dean was an adult, he could lie if he wanted to. Besides, choosing to ignore the current line of questioning coming from his brother and boyfriend wasn’t lying, it was just avoiding, and that Dean was a pro at.

The silence dragged on until it was uncomfortable, Cas squinting his eyes and doing his adorable little head tilt that usually signified he was studying Dean, trying to get a read on him. A few more seconds ticked on, and Dean couldn’t stand it any longer. He stood up from the couch, ready to bolt to his room where he could sulk in peace.

Again, no such luck.

Cas was on him, tackling him to the ground before he’d made it two feet. He straddled his hips, and after a brief struggle (that Dean was embarrassed to admit he’d lost too easily) Dean found his hands pinned by Cas’s on either side of his head, face bracketed in by Cas’s arms. Their noses were practically touching. Cas continued to study Dean, but the new proximity was making his head spin.

Tough guy brivatto still intact, for the moment, Dean steeled his expression into a look of annoyance, twisting himself underneath Cas’s hold, testing it. He was stuck, he knew it, but he wasn’t going down without a fight, Angelic strength be damned. Dean continued to struggle, letting out little grunts of frustration as each unsuccessful attempt let it sink in a little more just how screwed he really was. Cas had a small smirk forming on his face, and it just added to the irritation building up. Dean let out a growl, willing himself to break the hold, but eventually he conceded, body going slack, head tipped back, eyes closed, as though he was slowly starting to accept his fate. He was still breathing heavily, little huffs coming out of his nose every few seconds, but he couldn’t help the small smile starting to form on his face from the ridiculousness of it all. He tried to school his expression into something neutral, but he was failing. When he dared to peek one eye open, Cas was grinning down at him with that big gummy smile of his. Dean couldn’t help but smile back as he said “yeah, yeah, you made your point, now let me up.” But Cas apparently had other intentions, grip tightening slightly at the request.

“Dean, we just want to help. I’d like you to tell us willingly, but I’m not against coercing it out of you.” As Cas spoke, his eyes started to twinkle, and Dean gulped, his throat growing dry, nerves set on edge. If Cas’s look was any indication of what was coming, Dean was in trouble. He tried to remain calm, not giving Cas the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under his skin. He fidgeted again, cursing himself silently.

Get it together, Winchester. You can still get out of this.

Right on cue, as if reading his mind, Cas readjusted his grip so that he was holding both of Dean’s hands in just one of his, other hand coming to rest ever so gently on Dean’s side. Well shit. This wasn’t the first time Cas had used this method to get Dean to “talk” and he should have known it was coming. Dean had two options, tell the truth, or try and lie his way out of it, convincingly, of course.

He put on the brightest smile possible, the one he knew worked ninety five percent of the time, his go-to when he was trying to charm his way out of a not- so-pleasant situation he’d inevitably found himself in, and said “I’m FINE, man, I swear, just let me up.” He tried not to let his voice waiver, but when Cas didn’t budge, Dean chuckled nervously, averting his eyes for a moment. After collecting himself, he turned his face back, eyes pleading with Cas to just drop it. But Cas could be stubborn as well, and as the moments ticked on, it became increasingly clear that Cas would not be satisfied until Dean fessed up. Dean narrowed his eyes, voice low. “Don’t even think about it.” he snarled, trying to appear as if he had control of the situation, even if Cas did have the upper hand. He let out another growl, but it quickly turned into a yelp as Cas’s fingers jumped to life.

Sam, who had previously returned his attention back to his laptop after the brief exchange with his brother, heard the noise and looked up, curiosity getting the best of him. He smiled softly at the sight of his brother squirming beneath Cas. Dean was trying his hardest to keep his composure in check, but was rapidly losing that battle. Cas’s growing smile was a clear indicator that Dean was close to breaking. Cas knew it and was slowly chipping away, gaining leverage with every twitch of his fingers. Moments ticked on, Dean still squirming but refusing to concede, and eventually Cas must have decided he’d had enough. Without warning, he released his grip on Dean’s hands in favor of digging all ten fingertips into both of his sides. Dean was not expecting the sudden change, and his wall of resistance shattered. He began cackling, the noise loud enough to catch Eileen’s attention, who until this moment had remained focused on her show. She glanced at Sam, eyebrow raised and questioning, and Sam just smiled back at her, shrugging his shoulders. The pair stood up simultaneously, making their way over to the spot where Dean and Cas were still battling it out, although it was clear who was winning this little bout.

Dean could see Sam and Eileen approach out of the corner of his eye, although his vision was already starting to blur. He groaned through his laughter, trying to hide his face in the crook of his arm. This was embarrassing, especially with how quickly Cas had broken him. It had only been a minute, tops, since Cas had really started tickling in earnest, and Dean was already red-faced and giggling hysterically. He had expected to hold out longer than that, but Cas had him so wound up with anticipation, he didn’t stand a chance. He was twisting frantically, kicking his legs, trying to throw Cas off, to no avail. A few “Cas’s” and “please” and "stop it’s” slipped in whenever he could catch a breath, although only half of them decipherable. Damned if he wouldn’t still try though. Cas just shook his head, acknowledging he had heard him but wasn’t complying with his requests. The little shit was dead when Dean got out of this. Dean was so getting him back, tenfold. But he couldn’t focus on that right now.

The little voice in Dean’s head kept telling him if he just agreed to give them an answer that this could all be over. He tried convincing himself of what it was he DID want. What answer would appease them? What was the truth? Dean hadn’t been able to put his finger on it before, and he certainly was having trouble thinking clearly now. Another part of him, a louder part, kept reminding him that this WAS what he wanted. Physical contact, no matter the form. Sometimes he found himself craving it, the lack of it overwhelming him to the point of suffocation. Usually he drowned himself in other distractions to take away the sting. Until now, it had worked. He wasn’t expecting it to hit him today with an audience. He hadn’t even fully accepted that was the problem, but as the contact with Cas made the earlier cold and loneliness slowly ebb away, a realization dawned on him. Well damn if he would admit it. He had a reputation to uphold.

As Sam and Eileen reached them, Dean could see Cas and Eileen share a quick glance, and then she nodded, as though they could read each other's minds. The silent exchange made his nerves ignite. She knelt down above his head, and Cas paused his tickling to pass Dean’s arms to her, one at a time. He tried to resist, but in the end it was futile. From his seat on Dean’s lap, Cas had the advantage. Eileen sat on them gently, only enough pressure to ensure he was pinned firmly. Dean gulped. One on one with Cas was bad enough, but being double teamed… They wouldn’t, would they? Dean shivered at the thought. At least Sam was still standing. Dean didn’t know what would happen if all three of them attacked. He’d never survive. He might as well ask to cuddle, right then and there. At least he’d still have some of his dignity left.

Once the pair deemed Dean secured in his new position, Cas said “last chance to talk, Dean.” He was counting on Dean’s stubbornness, and when Dean glared at him with a “how dare you” look, Cas grinned and started tickling again, fingers back at Dean’s sides, though not as harshly as last time. Dean should have been grateful for the reprieve, only now Eileen’s hands were added to mix. Dammit, NO! Her fingers were poking and prodding in and around his armpits, occasionally jumping to his collarbones and up and around his ears. Dean exploded, cackling, voice going in and out as his pitch reached new levels. His efforts to free himself increased momentarily, twisting and turning with every poke and prod, but he was quickly running out of energy. He was shaking his head from side to side, a stream of jovial “nonono’s” bursting out of him every time he could catch his breath.

Eventually he went slack, sweat lacing his brow. Cas and Eileen noticed and slowed the tickling just enough to give him a moment to breathe, but still enough to keep him gently giggling. Eileen with her long fingernails still scritching softly under his chin. Cas with the soft pads of his fingertips digging into his ribs. And Sam with that dopey, lopsided smile, grinning down at Dean every time he dared peek his eyes open, looking at Dean like his face was the brightest thing aside from the sun.

It was more than Dean could handle. He needed it to stop. He never wanted it to stop.

“Ok, ok I give. I give up. Please, no more.” Dean relented. Cas and Eileen paused, waiting for him to continue. When his breathing slowed completely, they looked on expectantly, but instead of speaking, he tried hiding his face in the crook of his elbow again. “Heeey” he giggled, as Eileen softly tickled the side of his neck, forcing him to turn his head. He looked up at her, trying to glare, but was betrayed by his lingering smile, and she bent down to peck a kiss to his forehead. He almost started crying. What the hell was going on with him today?

He closed his eyes and laid there for a moment, trying to regain his composure, not trusting himself to make eye contact, much less to speak. He knew they wouldn’t wait forever. Still pinned beneath the pair, he tried to muster up some courage. As he looked over, Cas started wiggling his fingers again, making a show of getting closer and closer to Dean’s sides, and it was all the encouragement Dean needed to blurt out “I was just lonely and wanted attention!” He immediately tried hiding his face again, cheeks burning red. This time, no one stopped him. When a few minutes had passed and no one had spoken, he dared to glance up.

From the looks on their faces, whatever it was they were expecting Dean to say, it clearly hadn’t been that. All 3 were looking at him with slightly different expressions, from fondness to curiosity, but not one of them appeared to be judging him. He was grateful for that, at least. Maybe he could finish the day with some of his dignity intact.

“I answered your question, can I sit up now please?” Dean asked, suddenly looking very uncomfortable in his current position. Cas and Eileen, realizing that they were still pinning Dean down, released their hold, shuffling back to give him some room. He sat up, keeping his head down, hand ringing at the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. He could feel their eyes on him still and it made his cheeks burn red again. He wished they’d just leave him to wallow in peace. They owed him that much. Instead, as Cas and Eileen stood up, Sam offered Dean a hand. He accepted it, shakily rising to his feet, still a little wobbly and light headed from before. Sam saw him stagger and righted him, but instead of stopping at that, he pulled him into a crushing hug.

“Come here, ya big dummy.” Sam said, and Dean could tell by his tone that Sam was grinning. When Dean didn’t put up much resistance, he pressed on “if you wanted us to hug you, why didn’t you just ask?” Dean tensed at the teasing and started to pull away, even though the contact was keeping him grounded at the moment. Old habits were hard to break. Sam wasn’t letting him get away that easily. He tightened his grip, arms wrapped around Dean’s torso, fingers starting to wiggle into the crevices at the back of his armpits. Dean let out a gasp, followed by a “nohoho, not again!” and before he could help himself he was giggling, squirming steadily in Sam’s arms, trying to keep himself upright, although his knees were threatening to give out. Cas stepped in behind him, just in time to catch him as Dean managed to break Sam’s hold.

Dean stumbled and Cas righted him, wrapping his arms around him to keep him vertical. Sam advanced forward, hands finding purchase on Dean’s belly as he responded to Dean’s plea of “no Sammy, please don’t” with “I didn’t get to participate before, Dean, it’s only fair!” When Sam fingers found his belly button, Dean shrieked, laughter quickly turning silent. He was doubled over Cas’s arms, trying to force Sam’s evil fingers away, but Sam continued to slip his grip with ease. Eventually he gave up and tipped his head back, temple brushing against Cas’s, arms crossed in front of him as much as Cas’s hold would allow. Sam eventually slowed when it was clear that Dean couldn’t take much more.

Sam giggled at his brother as he tried to entangle himself from Cas’s octopus-like grip. When Dean was finally free, he stumbled over to the couch, practically collapsing onto it. He laid on his back, arm draped over his eyes, willing his breath to settle. He startled when he felt someone lift his head up, but relaxed again when he realized it was only Cas climbing in to sit beneath him, Dean’s head now in his lap. Cas started running his fingers through Dean’s hair, pausing every once in a while to scratch at his scalp. Dean hummed appreciatively, which only encouraged Cas to continue.

Normally he’d be embarrassed at showing his emotions so openly, but after what he’d just endured, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Cas had picked up his discarded book before settling down, now propping it up on the arm of the couch, somehow managing to juggle it with one hand while still attentive to Dean with the other. Every once in a while his hand would stray from Dean’s head to rub over his back or shoulders, and Dean would sigh contentedly. Maybe he needed to ask for what he wanted more often.

Sam and Eileen were snuggled on the loveseat, watching on with fondness. Cas looked up and met their gaze, smiling at them and then down at Dean. Dean met his gaze, smiling softly back. The rain still pattered lightly on the windows, only now all was right with the world again. Maybe rest days weren’t so bad after all. He rolled over, snuggling his face into Cas’s lap, and when Cas resumed his scritching, Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and soon he was snoring softly.

I rarely write but this one just came together so quickly, I couldn’t stop the brain worms. Hope you enjoy.

[inkaddict1978]

June. June was supposed to be nice. It was supposed to be “take Baby for a long drive, windows down, with no destination in mind for once” nice. Instead it was cold, 40’s at best, and the pattering of drops on the windows didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. It was starting to get on Dean’s nerves. The 4 friends were lounging around in their cozy little living room, “Ramble On” playing softly from the speakers in the far corner.

Sam was in the recliner, scrolling on his laptop. Dean didn’t need to see the screen to know he was searching for their next case. Always the diligent one. Cas was on one end of the couch, nose deep in some new “book of the week” that he had become addicted to. The sight made Dean’s stomach flutter, something he was still trying to get used to. Eileen was on the loveseat, watching tv, surely some reality show that Dean would pretend not to be interested in, but secretly be sad when it ended. Dean was currently propped up in the corner of the couch, opposite Cas, with a magazine in hand, not really focusing on the print, mind distracted.

He was fidgeting, too. He knew it, but he hoped no one else had noticed. He wasn’t used to sitting still, at least not for long periods of time, and his hands itched to be doing something, other than holding the paper distraction. He kept shifting slightly, couch creaking with each move, and every so often one of the other’s eyes would roam over to him, their look questioning. It never lasted long, but Dean would duck his head back into the magazine every time, avoiding the stare. His heart was starting to race, and he willed himself to slow it down. He could do this, dammit. He could relax. He just needed to practice. He wasn’t used to the semi-retired, non-hunting lifestyle. So sue him. It would take some getting used to. He shifted again, trying to return his focus back to his reading, but apparently fate had other plans in store for him today.

“Dude what’s the matter with you?” Sam asked, voice laced slightly with irritation. You’re like a nervous ball of energy, and it’s been radiating throughout the room for the last hour. What gives, man?”

Damn it, Sam was always the intuitive one. Dean couldn’t get anything past him.

He tried to play it off with a scoff, schooling his features into a look that implied as though Sam’s comment was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. In reality, he wished Sam could read his mind, so Dean didn’t have to use his words to communicate his emotions. He’d never been very good at that. For the moment though, he wished Sam would just drop it and leave him alone.

“I know when something’s bothering you” Sam continued “so just tell us what’s going on.”

No such luck.

Truth was, Dean didn’t know what was wrong, exactly. He’d slept well, eaten, and was currently nursing a beer. All his basic needs were met and he should have been grateful for the rest. But for some reason, even in a room full of others, he felt alone. His skin was cold, despite the warmth in the room, and he was itching for some sort of physical contact. Everyone seemed so far away, despite the close proximity of the furniture. What the hell was wrong with him? He rolled his eyes at himself. He needed to snap out of it. He wasn’t sharing with the class, especially something as emotionally confusing as this. Suffer in silence. That was his MO.

Apparently no one was willing to allow him that luxury today, because Cas, who had averted his attention away from his book to observe the brother’s exchange for the last several minutes, chose that moment to join the conversation.

“Dean, you do seem more restless than usual. What’s the matter with you?” Cas paused, waiting for Dean to respond. Dean pulled a face that clearly conveyed “leave me alone” without having to verbalize it. Either that, or he was trying to think of a lie. Cas must have thought the latter, because he followed up his previous question with “and don’t lie to me. You know it won’t end well.”

Dean schooled his features, giving Cas a challenging glare. Who did he think he was? Dean was an adult, he could lie if he wanted to. Besides, choosing to ignore the current line of questioning coming from his brother and boyfriend wasn’t lying, it was just avoiding, and that Dean was a pro at.

The silence dragged on until it was uncomfortable, Cas squinting his eyes and doing his adorable little head tilt that usually signified he was studying Dean, trying to get a read on him. A few more seconds ticked on, and Dean couldn’t stand it any longer. He stood up from the couch, ready to bolt to his room where he could sulk in peace.

Again, no such luck.

Cas was on him, tackling him to the ground before he’d made it two feet. He straddled his hips, and after a brief struggle (that Dean was embarrassed to admit he’d lost too easily) Dean found his hands pinned by Cas’s on either side of his head, face bracketed in by Cas’s arms. Their noses were practically touching. Cas continued to study Dean, but the new proximity was making his head spin.

Tough guy brivatto still intact, for the moment, Dean steeled his expression into a look of annoyance, twisting himself underneath Cas’s hold, testing it. He was stuck, he knew it, but he wasn’t going down without a fight, Angelic strength be damned. Dean continued to struggle, letting out little grunts of frustration as each unsuccessful attempt let it sink in a little more just how screwed he really was. Cas had a small smirk forming on his face, and it just added to the irritation building up. Dean let out a growl, willing himself to break the hold, but eventually he conceded, body going slack, head tipped back, eyes closed, as though he was slowly starting to accept his fate. He was still breathing heavily, little huffs coming out of his nose every few seconds, but he couldn’t help the small smile starting to form on his face from the ridiculousness of it all. He tried to school his expression into something neutral, but he was failing. When he dared to peek one eye open, Cas was grinning down at him with that big gummy smile of his. Dean couldn’t help but smile back as he said “yeah, yeah, you made your point, now let me up.” But Cas apparently had other intentions, grip tightening slightly at the request.

“Dean, we just want to help. I’d like you to tell us willingly, but I’m not against coercing it out of you.” As Cas spoke, his eyes started to twinkle, and Dean gulped, his throat growing dry, nerves set on edge. If Cas’s look was any indication of what was coming, Dean was in trouble. He tried to remain calm, not giving Cas the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under his skin. He fidgeted again, cursing himself silently.

Get it together, Winchester. You can still get out of this.

Right on cue, as if reading his mind, Cas readjusted his grip so that he was holding both of Dean’s hands in just one of his, other hand coming to rest ever so gently on Dean’s side. Well shit. This wasn’t the first time Cas had used this method to get Dean to “talk” and he should have known it was coming. Dean had two options, tell the truth, or try and lie his way out of it, convincingly, of course.

He put on the brightest smile possible, the one he knew worked ninety five percent of the time, his go-to when he was trying to charm his way out of a not- so-pleasant situation he’d inevitably found himself in, and said “I’m FINE, man, I swear, just let me up.” He tried not to let his voice waiver, but when Cas didn’t budge, Dean chuckled nervously, averting his eyes for a moment. After collecting himself, he turned his face back, eyes pleading with Cas to just drop it. But Cas could be stubborn as well, and as the moments ticked on, it became increasingly clear that Cas would not be satisfied until Dean fessed up. Dean narrowed his eyes, voice low. “Don’t even think about it.” he snarled, trying to appear as if he had control of the situation, even if Cas did have the upper hand. He let out another growl, but it quickly turned into a yelp as Cas’s fingers jumped to life.

Sam, who had previously returned his attention back to his laptop after the brief exchange with his brother, heard the noise and looked up, curiosity getting the best of him. He smiled softly at the sight of his brother squirming beneath Cas. Dean was trying his hardest to keep his composure in check, but was rapidly losing that battle. Cas’s growing smile was a clear indicator that Dean was close to breaking. Cas knew it and was slowly chipping away, gaining leverage with every twitch of his fingers. Moments ticked on, Dean still squirming but refusing to concede, and eventually Cas must have decided he’d had enough. Without warning, he released his grip on Dean’s hands in favor of digging all ten fingertips into both of his sides. Dean was not expecting the sudden change, and his wall of resistance shattered. He began cackling, the noise loud enough to catch Eileen’s attention, who until this moment had remained focused on her show. She glanced at Sam, eyebrow raised and questioning, and Sam just smiled back at her, shrugging his shoulders. The pair stood up simultaneously, making their way over to the spot where Dean and Cas were still battling it out, although it was clear who was winning this little bout.

Dean could see Sam and Eileen approach out of the corner of his eye, although his vision was already starting to blur. He groaned through his laughter, trying to hide his face in the crook of his arm. This was embarrassing, especially with how quickly Cas had broken him. It had only been a minute, tops, since Cas had really started tickling in earnest, and Dean was already red-faced and giggling hysterically. He had expected to hold out longer than that, but Cas had him so wound up with anticipation, he didn’t stand a chance. He was twisting frantically, kicking his legs, trying to throw Cas off, to no avail. A few “Cas’s” and “please” and "stop it’s” slipped in whenever he could catch a breath, although only half of them decipherable. Damned if he wouldn’t still try though. Cas just shook his head, acknowledging he had heard him but wasn’t complying with his requests. The little shit was dead when Dean got out of this. Dean was so getting him back, tenfold. But he couldn’t focus on that right now.

The little voice in Dean’s head kept telling him if he just agreed to give them an answer that this could all be over. He tried convincing himself of what it was he DID want. What answer would appease them? What was the truth? Dean hadn’t been able to put his finger on it before, and he certainly was having trouble thinking clearly now. Another part of him, a louder part, kept reminding him that this WAS what he wanted. Physical contact, no matter the form. Sometimes he found himself craving it, the lack of it overwhelming him to the point of suffocation. Usually he drowned himself in other distractions to take away the sting. Until now, it had worked. He wasn’t expecting it to hit him today with an audience. He hadn’t even fully accepted that was the problem, but as the contact with Cas made the earlier cold and loneliness slowly ebb away, a realization dawned on him. Well damn if he would admit it. He had a reputation to uphold.

As Sam and Eileen reached them, Dean could see Cas and Eileen share a quick glance, and then she nodded, as though they could read each other's minds. The silent exchange made his nerves ignite. She knelt down above his head, and Cas paused his tickling to pass Dean’s arms to her, one at a time. He tried to resist, but in the end it was futile. From his seat on Dean’s lap, Cas had the advantage. Eileen sat on them gently, only enough pressure to ensure he was pinned firmly. Dean gulped. One on one with Cas was bad enough, but being double teamed… They wouldn’t, would they? Dean shivered at the thought. At least Sam was still standing. Dean didn’t know what would happen if all three of them attacked. He’d never survive. He might as well ask to cuddle, right then and there. At least he’d still have some of his dignity left.

Once the pair deemed Dean secured in his new position, Cas said “last chance to talk, Dean.” He was counting on Dean’s stubbornness, and when Dean glared at him with a “how dare you” look, Cas grinned and started tickling again, fingers back at Dean’s sides, though not as harshly as last time. Dean should have been grateful for the reprieve, only now Eileen’s hands were added to mix. Dammit, NO! Her fingers were poking and prodding in and around his armpits, occasionally jumping to his collarbones and up and around his ears. Dean exploded, cackling, voice going in and out as his pitch reached new levels. His efforts to free himself increased momentarily, twisting and turning with every poke and prod, but he was quickly running out of energy. He was shaking his head from side to side, a stream of jovial “nonono’s” bursting out of him every time he could catch his breath.

Eventually he went slack, sweat lacing his brow. Cas and Eileen noticed and slowed the tickling just enough to give him a moment to breathe, but still enough to keep him gently giggling. Eileen with her long fingernails still scritching softly under his chin. Cas with the soft pads of his fingertips digging into his ribs. And Sam with that dopey, lopsided smile, grinning down at Dean every time he dared peek his eyes open, looking at Dean like his face was the brightest thing aside from the sun.

It was more than Dean could handle. He needed it to stop. He never wanted it to stop.

“Ok, ok I give. I give up. Please, no more.” Dean relented. Cas and Eileen paused, waiting for him to continue. When his breathing slowed completely, they looked on expectantly, but instead of speaking, he tried hiding his face in the crook of his elbow again. “Heeey” he giggled, as Eileen softly tickled the side of his neck, forcing him to turn his head. He looked up at her, trying to glare, but was betrayed by his lingering smile, and she bent down to peck a kiss to his forehead. He almost started crying. What the hell was going on with him today?

He closed his eyes and laid there for a moment, trying to regain his composure, not trusting himself to make eye contact, much less to speak. He knew they wouldn’t wait forever. Still pinned beneath the pair, he tried to muster up some courage. As he looked over, Cas started wiggling his fingers again, making a show of getting closer and closer to Dean’s sides, and it was all the encouragement Dean needed to blurt out “I was just lonely and wanted attention!” He immediately tried hiding his face again, cheeks burning red. This time, no one stopped him. When a few minutes had passed and no one had spoken, he dared to glance up.

From the looks on their faces, whatever it was they were expecting Dean to say, it clearly hadn’t been that. All 3 were looking at him with slightly different expressions, from fondness to curiosity, but not one of them appeared to be judging him. He was grateful for that, at least. Maybe he could finish the day with some of his dignity intact.

“I answered your question, can I sit up now please?” Dean asked, suddenly looking very uncomfortable in his current position. Cas and Eileen, realizing that they were still pinning Dean down, released their hold, shuffling back to give him some room. He sat up, keeping his head down, hand ringing at the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. He could feel their eyes on him still and it made his cheeks burn red again. He wished they’d just leave him to wallow in peace. They owed him that much. Instead, as Cas and Eileen stood up, Sam offered Dean a hand. He accepted it, shakily rising to his feet, still a little wobbly and light headed from before. Sam saw him stagger and righted him, but instead of stopping at that, he pulled him into a crushing hug.

“Come here, ya big dummy.” Sam said, and Dean could tell by his tone that Sam was grinning. When Dean didn’t put up much resistance, he pressed on “if you wanted us to hug you, why didn’t you just ask?” Dean tensed at the teasing and started to pull away, even though the contact was keeping him grounded at the moment. Old habits were hard to break. Sam wasn’t letting him get away that easily. He tightened his grip, arms wrapped around Dean’s torso, fingers starting to wiggle into the crevices at the back of his armpits. Dean let out a gasp, followed by a “nohoho, not again!” and before he could help himself he was giggling, squirming steadily in Sam’s arms, trying to keep himself upright, although his knees were threatening to give out. Cas stepped in behind him, just in time to catch him as Dean managed to break Sam’s hold.

Dean stumbled and Cas righted him, wrapping his arms around him to keep him vertical. Sam advanced forward, hands finding purchase on Dean’s belly as he responded to Dean’s plea of “no Sammy, please don’t” with “I didn’t get to participate before, Dean, it’s only fair!” When Sam fingers found his belly button, Dean shrieked, laughter quickly turning silent. He was doubled over Cas’s arms, trying to force Sam’s evil fingers away, but Sam continued to slip his grip with ease. Eventually he gave up and tipped his head back, temple brushing against Cas’s, arms crossed in front of him as much as Cas’s hold would allow. Sam eventually slowed when it was clear that Dean couldn’t take much more.

Sam giggled at his brother as he tried to entangle himself from Cas’s octopus-like grip. When Dean was finally free, he stumbled over to the couch, practically collapsing onto it. He laid on his back, arm draped over his eyes, willing his breath to settle. He startled when he felt someone lift his head up, but relaxed again when he realized it was only Cas climbing in to sit beneath him, Dean’s head now in his lap. Cas started running his fingers through Dean’s hair, pausing every once in a while to scratch at his scalp. Dean hummed appreciatively, which only encouraged Cas to continue.

Normally he’d be embarrassed at showing his emotions so openly, but after what he’d just endured, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Cas had picked up his discarded book before settling down, now propping it up on the arm of the couch, somehow managing to juggle it with one hand while still attentive to Dean with the other. Every once in a while his hand would stray from Dean’s head to rub over his back or shoulders, and Dean would sigh contentedly. Maybe he needed to ask for what he wanted more often.

Sam and Eileen were snuggled on the loveseat, watching on with fondness. Cas looked up and met their gaze, smiling at them and then down at Dean. Dean met his gaze, smiling softly back. The rain still pattered lightly on the windows, only now all was right with the world again. Maybe rest days weren’t so bad after all. He rolled over, snuggling his face into Cas’s lap, and when Cas resumed his scritching, Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and soon he was snoring softly.

I rarely write but this one just came together so quickly, I couldn’t stop the brain worms. Hope you enjoy.

[inkaddict1978]

June. June was supposed to be nice. It was supposed to be “take Baby for a long drive, windows down, with no destination in mind for once” nice. Instead it was cold, 40’s at best, and the pattering of drops on the windows didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. It was starting to get on Dean’s nerves. The 4 friends were lounging around in their cozy little living room, “Ramble On” playing softly from the speakers in the far corner.

Sam was in the recliner, scrolling on his laptop. Dean didn’t need to see the screen to know he was searching for their next case. Always the diligent one. Cas was on one end of the couch, nose deep in some new “book of the week” that he had become addicted to. The sight made Dean’s stomach flutter, something he was still trying to get used to. Eileen was on the loveseat, watching tv, surely some reality show that Dean would pretend not to be interested in, but secretly be sad when it ended. Dean was currently propped up in the corner of the couch, opposite Cas, with a magazine in hand, not really focusing on the print, mind distracted.

He was fidgeting, too. He knew it, but he hoped no one else had noticed. He wasn’t used to sitting still, at least not for long periods of time, and his hands itched to be doing something, other than holding the paper distraction. He kept shifting slightly, couch creaking with each move, and every so often one of the other’s eyes would roam over to him, their look questioning. It never lasted long, but Dean would duck his head back into the magazine every time, avoiding the stare. His heart was starting to race, and he willed himself to slow it down. He could do this, dammit. He could relax. He just needed to practice. He wasn’t used to the semi-retired, non-hunting lifestyle. So sue him. It would take some getting used to. He shifted again, trying to return his focus back to his reading, but apparently fate had other plans in store for him today.

“Dude what’s the matter with you?” Sam asked, voice laced slightly with irritation. You’re like a nervous ball of energy, and it’s been radiating throughout the room for the last hour. What gives, man?”

Damn it, Sam was always the intuitive one. Dean couldn’t get anything past him.

He tried to play it off with a scoff, schooling his features into a look that implied as though Sam’s comment was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. In reality, he wished Sam could read his mind, so Dean didn’t have to use his words to communicate his emotions. He’d never been very good at that. For the moment though, he wished Sam would just drop it and leave him alone.

“I know when something’s bothering you” Sam continued “so just tell us what’s going on.”

No such luck.

Truth was, Dean didn’t know what was wrong, exactly. He’d slept well, eaten, and was currently nursing a beer. All his basic needs were met and he should have been grateful for the rest. But for some reason, even in a room full of others, he felt alone. His skin was cold, despite the warmth in the room, and he was itching for some sort of physical contact. Everyone seemed so far away, despite the close proximity of the furniture. What the hell was wrong with him? He rolled his eyes at himself. He needed to snap out of it. He wasn’t sharing with the class, especially something as emotionally confusing as this. Suffer in silence. That was his MO.

Apparently no one was willing to allow him that luxury today, because Cas, who had averted his attention away from his book to observe the brother’s exchange for the last several minutes, chose that moment to join the conversation.

“Dean, you do seem more restless than usual. What’s the matter with you?” Cas paused, waiting for Dean to respond. Dean pulled a face that clearly conveyed “leave me alone” without having to verbalize it. Either that, or he was trying to think of a lie. Cas must have thought the latter, because he followed up his previous question with “and don’t lie to me. You know it won’t end well.”

Dean schooled his features, giving Cas a challenging glare. Who did he think he was? Dean was an adult, he could lie if he wanted to. Besides, choosing to ignore the current line of questioning coming from his brother and boyfriend wasn’t lying, it was just avoiding, and that Dean was a pro at.

The silence dragged on until it was uncomfortable, Cas squinting his eyes and doing his adorable little head tilt that usually signified he was studying Dean, trying to get a read on him. A few more seconds ticked on, and Dean couldn’t stand it any longer. He stood up from the couch, ready to bolt to his room where he could sulk in peace.

Again, no such luck.

Cas was on him, tackling him to the ground before he’d made it two feet. He straddled his hips, and after a brief struggle (that Dean was embarrassed to admit he’d lost too easily) Dean found his hands pinned by Cas’s on either side of his head, face bracketed in by Cas’s arms. Their noses were practically touching. Cas continued to study Dean, but the new proximity was making his head spin.

Tough guy brivatto still intact, for the moment, Dean steeled his expression into a look of annoyance, twisting himself underneath Cas’s hold, testing it. He was stuck, he knew it, but he wasn’t going down without a fight, Angelic strength be damned. Dean continued to struggle, letting out little grunts of frustration as each unsuccessful attempt let it sink in a little more just how screwed he really was. Cas had a small smirk forming on his face, and it just added to the irritation building up. Dean let out a growl, willing himself to break the hold, but eventually he conceded, body going slack, head tipped back, eyes closed, as though he was slowly starting to accept his fate. He was still breathing heavily, little huffs coming out of his nose every few seconds, but he couldn’t help the small smile starting to form on his face from the ridiculousness of it all. He tried to school his expression into something neutral, but he was failing. When he dared to peek one eye open, Cas was grinning down at him with that big gummy smile of his. Dean couldn’t help but smile back as he said “yeah, yeah, you made your point, now let me up.” But Cas apparently had other intentions, grip tightening slightly at the request.

“Dean, we just want to help. I’d like you to tell us willingly, but I’m not against coercing it out of you.” As Cas spoke, his eyes started to twinkle, and Dean gulped, his throat growing dry, nerves set on edge. If Cas’s look was any indication of what was coming, Dean was in trouble. He tried to remain calm, not giving Cas the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under his skin. He fidgeted again, cursing himself silently.

Get it together, Winchester. You can still get out of this.

Right on cue, as if reading his mind, Cas readjusted his grip so that he was holding both of Dean’s hands in just one of his, other hand coming to rest ever so gently on Dean’s side. Well shit. This wasn’t the first time Cas had used this method to get Dean to “talk” and he should have known it was coming. Dean had two options, tell the truth, or try and lie his way out of it, convincingly, of course.

He put on the brightest smile possible, the one he knew worked ninety five percent of the time, his go-to when he was trying to charm his way out of a not- so-pleasant situation he’d inevitably found himself in, and said “I’m FINE, man, I swear, just let me up.” He tried not to let his voice waiver, but when Cas didn’t budge, Dean chuckled nervously, averting his eyes for a moment. After collecting himself, he turned his face back, eyes pleading with Cas to just drop it. But Cas could be stubborn as well, and as the moments ticked on, it became increasingly clear that Cas would not be satisfied until Dean fessed up. Dean narrowed his eyes, voice low. “Don’t even think about it.” he snarled, trying to appear as if he had control of the situation, even if Cas did have the upper hand. He let out another growl, but it quickly turned into a yelp as Cas’s fingers jumped to life.

Sam, who had previously returned his attention back to his laptop after the brief exchange with his brother, heard the noise and looked up, curiosity getting the best of him. He smiled softly at the sight of his brother squirming beneath Cas. Dean was trying his hardest to keep his composure in check, but was rapidly losing that battle. Cas’s growing smile was a clear indicator that Dean was close to breaking. Cas knew it and was slowly chipping away, gaining leverage with every twitch of his fingers. Moments ticked on, Dean still squirming but refusing to concede, and eventually Cas must have decided he’d had enough. Without warning, he released his grip on Dean’s hands in favor of digging all ten fingertips into both of his sides. Dean was not expecting the sudden change, and his wall of resistance shattered. He began cackling, the noise loud enough to catch Eileen’s attention, who until this moment had remained focused on her show. She glanced at Sam, eyebrow raised and questioning, and Sam just smiled back at her, shrugging his shoulders. The pair stood up simultaneously, making their way over to the spot where Dean and Cas were still battling it out, although it was clear who was winning this little bout.

Dean could see Sam and Eileen approach out of the corner of his eye, although his vision was already starting to blur. He groaned through his laughter, trying to hide his face in the crook of his arm. This was embarrassing, especially with how quickly Cas had broken him. It had only been a minute, tops, since Cas had really started tickling in earnest, and Dean was already red-faced and giggling hysterically. He had expected to hold out longer than that, but Cas had him so wound up with anticipation, he didn’t stand a chance. He was twisting frantically, kicking his legs, trying to throw Cas off, to no avail. A few “Cas’s” and “please” and "stop it’s” slipped in whenever he could catch a breath, although only half of them decipherable. Damned if he wouldn’t still try though. Cas just shook his head, acknowledging he had heard him but wasn’t complying with his requests. The little shit was dead when Dean got out of this. Dean was so getting him back, tenfold. But he couldn’t focus on that right now.

The little voice in Dean’s head kept telling him if he just agreed to give them an answer that this could all be over. He tried convincing himself of what it was he DID want. What answer would appease them? What was the truth? Dean hadn’t been able to put his finger on it before, and he certainly was having trouble thinking clearly now. Another part of him, a louder part, kept reminding him that this WAS what he wanted. Physical contact, no matter the form. Sometimes he found himself craving it, the lack of it overwhelming him to the point of suffocation. Usually he drowned himself in other distractions to take away the sting. Until now, it had worked. He wasn’t expecting it to hit him today with an audience. He hadn’t even fully accepted that was the problem, but as the contact with Cas made the earlier cold and loneliness slowly ebb away, a realization dawned on him. Well damn if he would admit it. He had a reputation to uphold.

As Sam and Eileen reached them, Dean could see Cas and Eileen share a quick glance, and then she nodded, as though they could read each other's minds. The silent exchange made his nerves ignite. She knelt down above his head, and Cas paused his tickling to pass Dean’s arms to her, one at a time. He tried to resist, but in the end it was futile. From his seat on Dean’s lap, Cas had the advantage. Eileen sat on them gently, only enough pressure to ensure he was pinned firmly. Dean gulped. One on one with Cas was bad enough, but being double teamed… They wouldn’t, would they? Dean shivered at the thought. At least Sam was still standing. Dean didn’t know what would happen if all three of them attacked. He’d never survive. He might as well ask to cuddle, right then and there. At least he’d still have some of his dignity left.

Once the pair deemed Dean secured in his new position, Cas said “last chance to talk, Dean.” He was counting on Dean’s stubbornness, and when Dean glared at him with a “how dare you” look, Cas grinned and started tickling again, fingers back at Dean’s sides, though not as harshly as last time. Dean should have been grateful for the reprieve, only now Eileen’s hands were added to mix. Dammit, NO! Her fingers were poking and prodding in and around his armpits, occasionally jumping to his collarbones and up and around his ears. Dean exploded, cackling, voice going in and out as his pitch reached new levels. His efforts to free himself increased momentarily, twisting and turning with every poke and prod, but he was quickly running out of energy. He was shaking his head from side to side, a stream of jovial “nonono’s” bursting out of him every time he could catch his breath.

Eventually he went slack, sweat lacing his brow. Cas and Eileen noticed and slowed the tickling just enough to give him a moment to breathe, but still enough to keep him gently giggling. Eileen with her long fingernails still scritching softly under his chin. Cas with the soft pads of his fingertips digging into his ribs. And Sam with that dopey, lopsided smile, grinning down at Dean every time he dared peek his eyes open, looking at Dean like his face was the brightest thing aside from the sun.

It was more than Dean could handle. He needed it to stop. He never wanted it to stop.

“Ok, ok I give. I give up. Please, no more.” Dean relented. Cas and Eileen paused, waiting for him to continue. When his breathing slowed completely, they looked on expectantly, but instead of speaking, he tried hiding his face in the crook of his elbow again. “Heeey” he giggled, as Eileen softly tickled the side of his neck, forcing him to turn his head. He looked up at her, trying to glare, but was betrayed by his lingering smile, and she bent down to peck a kiss to his forehead. He almost started crying. What the hell was going on with him today?

He closed his eyes and laid there for a moment, trying to regain his composure, not trusting himself to make eye contact, much less to speak. He knew they wouldn’t wait forever. Still pinned beneath the pair, he tried to muster up some courage. As he looked over, Cas started wiggling his fingers again, making a show of getting closer and closer to Dean’s sides, and it was all the encouragement Dean needed to blurt out “I was just lonely and wanted attention!” He immediately tried hiding his face again, cheeks burning red. This time, no one stopped him. When a few minutes had passed and no one had spoken, he dared to glance up.

From the looks on their faces, whatever it was they were expecting Dean to say, it clearly hadn’t been that. All 3 were looking at him with slightly different expressions, from fondness to curiosity, but not one of them appeared to be judging him. He was grateful for that, at least. Maybe he could finish the day with some of his dignity intact.

“I answered your question, can I sit up now please?” Dean asked, suddenly looking very uncomfortable in his current position. Cas and Eileen, realizing that they were still pinning Dean down, released their hold, shuffling back to give him some room. He sat up, keeping his head down, hand ringing at the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. He could feel their eyes on him still and it made his cheeks burn red again. He wished they’d just leave him to wallow in peace. They owed him that much. Instead, as Cas and Eileen stood up, Sam offered Dean a hand. He accepted it, shakily rising to his feet, still a little wobbly and light headed from before. Sam saw him stagger and righted him, but instead of stopping at that, he pulled him into a crushing hug.

“Come here, ya big dummy.” Sam said, and Dean could tell by his tone that Sam was grinning. When Dean didn’t put up much resistance, he pressed on “if you wanted us to hug you, why didn’t you just ask?” Dean tensed at the teasing and started to pull away, even though the contact was keeping him grounded at the moment. Old habits were hard to break. Sam wasn’t letting him get away that easily. He tightened his grip, arms wrapped around Dean’s torso, fingers starting to wiggle into the crevices at the back of his armpits. Dean let out a gasp, followed by a “nohoho, not again!” and before he could help himself he was giggling, squirming steadily in Sam’s arms, trying to keep himself upright, although his knees were threatening to give out. Cas stepped in behind him, just in time to catch him as Dean managed to break Sam’s hold.

Dean stumbled and Cas righted him, wrapping his arms around him to keep him vertical. Sam advanced forward, hands finding purchase on Dean’s belly as he responded to Dean’s plea of “no Sammy, please don’t” with “I didn’t get to participate before, Dean, it’s only fair!” When Sam fingers found his belly button, Dean shrieked, laughter quickly turning silent. He was doubled over Cas’s arms, trying to force Sam’s evil fingers away, but Sam continued to slip his grip with ease. Eventually he gave up and tipped his head back, temple brushing against Cas’s, arms crossed in front of him as much as Cas’s hold would allow. Sam eventually slowed when it was clear that Dean couldn’t take much more.

Sam giggled at his brother as he tried to entangle himself from Cas’s octopus-like grip. When Dean was finally free, he stumbled over to the couch, practically collapsing onto it. He laid on his back, arm draped over his eyes, willing his breath to settle. He startled when he felt someone lift his head up, but relaxed again when he realized it was only Cas climbing in to sit beneath him, Dean’s head now in his lap. Cas started running his fingers through Dean’s hair, pausing every once in a while to scratch at his scalp. Dean hummed appreciatively, which only encouraged Cas to continue.

Normally he’d be embarrassed at showing his emotions so openly, but after what he’d just endured, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Cas had picked up his discarded book before settling down, now propping it up on the arm of the couch, somehow managing to juggle it with one hand while still attentive to Dean with the other. Every once in a while his hand would stray from Dean’s head to rub over his back or shoulders, and Dean would sigh contentedly. Maybe he needed to ask for what he wanted more often.

Sam and Eileen were snuggled on the loveseat, watching on with fondness. Cas looked up and met their gaze, smiling at them and then down at Dean. Dean met his gaze, smiling softly back. The rain still pattered lightly on the windows, only now all was right with the world again. Maybe rest days weren’t so bad after all. He rolled over, snuggling his face into Cas’s lap, and when Cas resumed his scritching, Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and soon he was snoring softly.

I rarely write but this one just came together so quickly, I couldn’t stop the brain worms. Hope you enjoy.

[inkaddict1978]

June. June was supposed to be nice. It was supposed to be “take Baby for a long drive, windows down, with no destination in mind for once” nice. Instead it was cold, 40’s at best, and the pattering of drops on the windows didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. It was starting to get on Dean’s nerves. The 4 friends were lounging around in their cozy little living room, “Ramble On” playing softly from the speakers in the far corner.

Sam was in the recliner, scrolling on his laptop. Dean didn’t need to see the screen to know he was searching for their next case. Always the diligent one. Cas was on one end of the couch, nose deep in some new “book of the week” that he had become addicted to. The sight made Dean’s stomach flutter, something he was still trying to get used to. Eileen was on the loveseat, watching tv, surely some reality show that Dean would pretend not to be interested in, but secretly be sad when it ended. Dean was currently propped up in the corner of the couch, opposite Cas, with a magazine in hand, not really focusing on the print, mind distracted.

He was fidgeting, too. He knew it, but he hoped no one else had noticed. He wasn’t used to sitting still, at least not for long periods of time, and his hands itched to be doing something, other than holding the paper distraction. He kept shifting slightly, couch creaking with each move, and every so often one of the other’s eyes would roam over to him, their look questioning. It never lasted long, but Dean would duck his head back into the magazine every time, avoiding the stare. His heart was starting to race, and he willed himself to slow it down. He could do this, dammit. He could relax. He just needed to practice. He wasn’t used to the semi-retired, non-hunting lifestyle. So sue him. It would take some getting used to. He shifted again, trying to return his focus back to his reading, but apparently fate had other plans in store for him today.

“Dude what’s the matter with you?” Sam asked, voice laced slightly with irritation. You’re like a nervous ball of energy, and it’s been radiating throughout the room for the last hour. What gives, man?”

Damn it, Sam was always the intuitive one. Dean couldn’t get anything past him.

He tried to play it off with a scoff, schooling his features into a look that implied as though Sam’s comment was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. In reality, he wished Sam could read his mind, so Dean didn’t have to use his words to communicate his emotions. He’d never been very good at that. For the moment though, he wished Sam would just drop it and leave him alone.

“I know when something’s bothering you” Sam continued “so just tell us what’s going on.”

No such luck.

Truth was, Dean didn’t know what was wrong, exactly. He’d slept well, eaten, and was currently nursing a beer. All his basic needs were met and he should have been grateful for the rest. But for some reason, even in a room full of others, he felt alone. His skin was cold, despite the warmth in the room, and he was itching for some sort of physical contact. Everyone seemed so far away, despite the close proximity of the furniture. What the hell was wrong with him? He rolled his eyes at himself. He needed to snap out of it. He wasn’t sharing with the class, especially something as emotionally confusing as this. Suffer in silence. That was his MO.

Apparently no one was willing to allow him that luxury today, because Cas, who had averted his attention away from his book to observe the brother’s exchange for the last several minutes, chose that moment to join the conversation.

“Dean, you do seem more restless than usual. What’s the matter with you?” Cas paused, waiting for Dean to respond. Dean pulled a face that clearly conveyed “leave me alone” without having to verbalize it. Either that, or he was trying to think of a lie. Cas must have thought the latter, because he followed up his previous question with “and don’t lie to me. You know it won’t end well.”

Dean schooled his features, giving Cas a challenging glare. Who did he think he was? Dean was an adult, he could lie if he wanted to. Besides, choosing to ignore the current line of questioning coming from his brother and boyfriend wasn’t lying, it was just avoiding, and that Dean was a pro at.

The silence dragged on until it was uncomfortable, Cas squinting his eyes and doing his adorable little head tilt that usually signified he was studying Dean, trying to get a read on him. A few more seconds ticked on, and Dean couldn’t stand it any longer. He stood up from the couch, ready to bolt to his room where he could sulk in peace.

Again, no such luck.

Cas was on him, tackling him to the ground before he’d made it two feet. He straddled his hips, and after a brief struggle (that Dean was embarrassed to admit he’d lost too easily) Dean found his hands pinned by Cas’s on either side of his head, face bracketed in by Cas’s arms. Their noses were practically touching. Cas continued to study Dean, but the new proximity was making his head spin.

Tough guy brivatto still intact, for the moment, Dean steeled his expression into a look of annoyance, twisting himself underneath Cas’s hold, testing it. He was stuck, he knew it, but he wasn’t going down without a fight, Angelic strength be damned. Dean continued to struggle, letting out little grunts of frustration as each unsuccessful attempt let it sink in a little more just how screwed he really was. Cas had a small smirk forming on his face, and it just added to the irritation building up. Dean let out a growl, willing himself to break the hold, but eventually he conceded, body going slack, head tipped back, eyes closed, as though he was slowly starting to accept his fate. He was still breathing heavily, little huffs coming out of his nose every few seconds, but he couldn’t help the small smile starting to form on his face from the ridiculousness of it all. He tried to school his expression into something neutral, but he was failing. When he dared to peek one eye open, Cas was grinning down at him with that big gummy smile of his. Dean couldn’t help but smile back as he said “yeah, yeah, you made your point, now let me up.” But Cas apparently had other intentions, grip tightening slightly at the request.

“Dean, we just want to help. I’d like you to tell us willingly, but I’m not against coercing it out of you.” As Cas spoke, his eyes started to twinkle, and Dean gulped, his throat growing dry, nerves set on edge. If Cas’s look was any indication of what was coming, Dean was in trouble. He tried to remain calm, not giving Cas the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under his skin. He fidgeted again, cursing himself silently.

Get it together, Winchester. You can still get out of this.

Right on cue, as if reading his mind, Cas readjusted his grip so that he was holding both of Dean’s hands in just one of his, other hand coming to rest ever so gently on Dean’s side. Well shit. This wasn’t the first time Cas had used this method to get Dean to “talk” and he should have known it was coming. Dean had two options, tell the truth, or try and lie his way out of it, convincingly, of course.

He put on the brightest smile possible, the one he knew worked ninety five percent of the time, his go-to when he was trying to charm his way out of a not- so-pleasant situation he’d inevitably found himself in, and said “I’m FINE, man, I swear, just let me up.” He tried not to let his voice waiver, but when Cas didn’t budge, Dean chuckled nervously, averting his eyes for a moment. After collecting himself, he turned his face back, eyes pleading with Cas to just drop it. But Cas could be stubborn as well, and as the moments ticked on, it became increasingly clear that Cas would not be satisfied until Dean fessed up. Dean narrowed his eyes, voice low. “Don’t even think about it.” he snarled, trying to appear as if he had control of the situation, even if Cas did have the upper hand. He let out another growl, but it quickly turned into a yelp as Cas’s fingers jumped to life.

Sam, who had previously returned his attention back to his laptop after the brief exchange with his brother, heard the noise and looked up, curiosity getting the best of him. He smiled softly at the sight of his brother squirming beneath Cas. Dean was trying his hardest to keep his composure in check, but was rapidly losing that battle. Cas’s growing smile was a clear indicator that Dean was close to breaking. Cas knew it and was slowly chipping away, gaining leverage with every twitch of his fingers. Moments ticked on, Dean still squirming but refusing to concede, and eventually Cas must have decided he’d had enough. Without warning, he released his grip on Dean’s hands in favor of digging all ten fingertips into both of his sides. Dean was not expecting the sudden change, and his wall of resistance shattered. He began cackling, the noise loud enough to catch Eileen’s attention, who until this moment had remained focused on her show. She glanced at Sam, eyebrow raised and questioning, and Sam just smiled back at her, shrugging his shoulders. The pair stood up simultaneously, making their way over to the spot where Dean and Cas were still battling it out, although it was clear who was winning this little bout.

Dean could see Sam and Eileen approach out of the corner of his eye, although his vision was already starting to blur. He groaned through his laughter, trying to hide his face in the crook of his arm. This was embarrassing, especially with how quickly Cas had broken him. It had only been a minute, tops, since Cas had really started tickling in earnest, and Dean was already red-faced and giggling hysterically. He had expected to hold out longer than that, but Cas had him so wound up with anticipation, he didn’t stand a chance. He was twisting frantically, kicking his legs, trying to throw Cas off, to no avail. A few “Cas’s” and “please” and "stop it’s” slipped in whenever he could catch a breath, although only half of them decipherable. Damned if he wouldn’t still try though. Cas just shook his head, acknowledging he had heard him but wasn’t complying with his requests. The little shit was dead when Dean got out of this. Dean was so getting him back, tenfold. But he couldn’t focus on that right now.

The little voice in Dean’s head kept telling him if he just agreed to give them an answer that this could all be over. He tried convincing himself of what it was he DID want. What answer would appease them? What was the truth? Dean hadn’t been able to put his finger on it before, and he certainly was having trouble thinking clearly now. Another part of him, a louder part, kept reminding him that this WAS what he wanted. Physical contact, no matter the form. Sometimes he found himself craving it, the lack of it overwhelming him to the point of suffocation. Usually he drowned himself in other distractions to take away the sting. Until now, it had worked. He wasn’t expecting it to hit him today with an audience. He hadn’t even fully accepted that was the problem, but as the contact with Cas made the earlier cold and loneliness slowly ebb away, a realization dawned on him. Well damn if he would admit it. He had a reputation to uphold.

As Sam and Eileen reached them, Dean could see Cas and Eileen share a quick glance, and then she nodded, as though they could read each other's minds. The silent exchange made his nerves ignite. She knelt down above his head, and Cas paused his tickling to pass Dean’s arms to her, one at a time. He tried to resist, but in the end it was futile. From his seat on Dean’s lap, Cas had the advantage. Eileen sat on them gently, only enough pressure to ensure he was pinned firmly. Dean gulped. One on one with Cas was bad enough, but being double teamed… They wouldn’t, would they? Dean shivered at the thought. At least Sam was still standing. Dean didn’t know what would happen if all three of them attacked. He’d never survive. He might as well ask to cuddle, right then and there. At least he’d still have some of his dignity left.

Once the pair deemed Dean secured in his new position, Cas said “last chance to talk, Dean.” He was counting on Dean’s stubbornness, and when Dean glared at him with a “how dare you” look, Cas grinned and started tickling again, fingers back at Dean’s sides, though not as harshly as last time. Dean should have been grateful for the reprieve, only now Eileen’s hands were added to mix. Dammit, NO! Her fingers were poking and prodding in and around his armpits, occasionally jumping to his collarbones and up and around his ears. Dean exploded, cackling, voice going in and out as his pitch reached new levels. His efforts to free himself increased momentarily, twisting and turning with every poke and prod, but he was quickly running out of energy. He was shaking his head from side to side, a stream of jovial “nonono’s” bursting out of him every time he could catch his breath.

Eventually he went slack, sweat lacing his brow. Cas and Eileen noticed and slowed the tickling just enough to give him a moment to breathe, but still enough to keep him gently giggling. Eileen with her long fingernails still scritching softly under his chin. Cas with the soft pads of his fingertips digging into his ribs. And Sam with that dopey, lopsided smile, grinning down at Dean every time he dared peek his eyes open, looking at Dean like his face was the brightest thing aside from the sun.

It was more than Dean could handle. He needed it to stop. He never wanted it to stop.

“Ok, ok I give. I give up. Please, no more.” Dean relented. Cas and Eileen paused, waiting for him to continue. When his breathing slowed completely, they looked on expectantly, but instead of speaking, he tried hiding his face in the crook of his elbow again. “Heeey” he giggled, as Eileen softly tickled the side of his neck, forcing him to turn his head. He looked up at her, trying to glare, but was betrayed by his lingering smile, and she bent down to peck a kiss to his forehead. He almost started crying. What the hell was going on with him today?

He closed his eyes and laid there for a moment, trying to regain his composure, not trusting himself to make eye contact, much less to speak. He knew they wouldn’t wait forever. Still pinned beneath the pair, he tried to muster up some courage. As he looked over, Cas started wiggling his fingers again, making a show of getting closer and closer to Dean’s sides, and it was all the encouragement Dean needed to blurt out “I was just lonely and wanted attention!” He immediately tried hiding his face again, cheeks burning red. This time, no one stopped him. When a few minutes had passed and no one had spoken, he dared to glance up.

From the looks on their faces, whatever it was they were expecting Dean to say, it clearly hadn’t been that. All 3 were looking at him with slightly different expressions, from fondness to curiosity, but not one of them appeared to be judging him. He was grateful for that, at least. Maybe he could finish the day with some of his dignity intact.

“I answered your question, can I sit up now please?” Dean asked, suddenly looking very uncomfortable in his current position. Cas and Eileen, realizing that they were still pinning Dean down, released their hold, shuffling back to give him some room. He sat up, keeping his head down, hand ringing at the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. He could feel their eyes on him still and it made his cheeks burn red again. He wished they’d just leave him to wallow in peace. They owed him that much. Instead, as Cas and Eileen stood up, Sam offered Dean a hand. He accepted it, shakily rising to his feet, still a little wobbly and light headed from before. Sam saw him stagger and righted him, but instead of stopping at that, he pulled him into a crushing hug.

“Come here, ya big dummy.” Sam said, and Dean could tell by his tone that Sam was grinning. When Dean didn’t put up much resistance, he pressed on “if you wanted us to hug you, why didn’t you just ask?” Dean tensed at the teasing and started to pull away, even though the contact was keeping him grounded at the moment. Old habits were hard to break. Sam wasn’t letting him get away that easily. He tightened his grip, arms wrapped around Dean’s torso, fingers starting to wiggle into the crevices at the back of his armpits. Dean let out a gasp, followed by a “nohoho, not again!” and before he could help himself he was giggling, squirming steadily in Sam’s arms, trying to keep himself upright, although his knees were threatening to give out. Cas stepped in behind him, just in time to catch him as Dean managed to break Sam’s hold.

Dean stumbled and Cas righted him, wrapping his arms around him to keep him vertical. Sam advanced forward, hands finding purchase on Dean’s belly as he responded to Dean’s plea of “no Sammy, please don’t” with “I didn’t get to participate before, Dean, it’s only fair!” When Sam fingers found his belly button, Dean shrieked, laughter quickly turning silent. He was doubled over Cas’s arms, trying to force Sam’s evil fingers away, but Sam continued to slip his grip with ease. Eventually he gave up and tipped his head back, temple brushing against Cas’s, arms crossed in front of him as much as Cas’s hold would allow. Sam eventually slowed when it was clear that Dean couldn’t take much more.

Sam giggled at his brother as he tried to entangle himself from Cas’s octopus-like grip. When Dean was finally free, he stumbled over to the couch, practically collapsing onto it. He laid on his back, arm draped over his eyes, willing his breath to settle. He startled when he felt someone lift his head up, but relaxed again when he realized it was only Cas climbing in to sit beneath him, Dean’s head now in his lap. Cas started running his fingers through Dean’s hair, pausing every once in a while to scratch at his scalp. Dean hummed appreciatively, which only encouraged Cas to continue.

Normally he’d be embarrassed at showing his emotions so openly, but after what he’d just endured, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Cas had picked up his discarded book before settling down, now propping it up on the arm of the couch, somehow managing to juggle it with one hand while still attentive to Dean with the other. Every once in a while his hand would stray from Dean’s head to rub over his back or shoulders, and Dean would sigh contentedly. Maybe he needed to ask for what he wanted more often.

Sam and Eileen were snuggled on the loveseat, watching on with fondness. Cas looked up and met their gaze, smiling at them and then down at Dean. Dean met his gaze, smiling softly back. The rain still pattered lightly on the windows, only now all was right with the world again. Maybe rest days weren’t so bad after all. He rolled over, snuggling his face into Cas’s lap, and when Cas resumed his scritching, Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and soon he was snoring softly.

I rarely write but this one just came together so quickly, I couldn’t stop the brain worms. Hope you enjoy.

[inkaddict1978]

OMG this is so soft. There is not enough Dean/Cas tickle fanart out there. ❤️❤️❤️

For the last week I have been working on one fairly large-scale project, which is spontaneous, a little grateful and generally full of bright feelings.

And so! I'm proud to present to you a little comic based on @nhasablogg's fanfiction that I really enjoyed. So in the end I decided to transfer these feelings into creativity

You better read this fanfic, because it is very sweet and sensual, and my scribbles only convey half of what is written there

[inkaddict1978]

Ticklish Dean, Cas and Sam. Ugh, indeed

getting tickled is seriously the worse kind of torture 

[inkaddict1978]

JC, it’s ok. Didn’t need my heart anyways.

destiel // amen - amber run // watch on youtube

[inkaddict1978]

Going through con photos and giggling at Jensen “where the f*ck is my “apple juice” “Ackles.

[inkaddict1978]

Happy November 5th, y’all.

[inkaddict1978]

Just getting home from getting my handprint tattoo done. Had no idea what I was in for that evening 😭

where were you 2 years ago when you heard that cas said I love you to dean?

[inkaddict1978]

Brain rot 2.0

[inkaddict1978]

This song has always tugged at my heart, but JC. This just about killed me.

destiel // whiskey lullaby - brad paisley ft allison krauss // watch on youtube

heads up! content warning for suicide and alcoholism. also, dean’s death is included, so if you’d like to avoid it, skip 2:33 - 2:48.

[inkaddict1978]

destiel // work song - hozier // watch on youtube

[inkaddict1978]

"Kneel" - Digital Oil Painting

Suptober Day 17 - Theme: Muse. Seeing Dean on his knees always made Castiel feel very creative, so he decided to keep him there.

Please see the pinned post at the top of my Tumblr for my links if you'd like to help support me in saving for a safe place to live!

[inkaddict1978]

Considered? My life depends on it.

dean kisses that place behind castiel’s ear, lets himself nose at his soft hair, moves down and mouths at cas’ neck. and then cas elbows dean right in the solar plexus because he’s ticklish 

[inkaddict1978]

Tickletober 2022 Day 9: Trapped

Poker nights and (one sided) tickle fights.

Cas’s POV:

It was their bi-weekly Friday night poker game, Sam taking his turn hosting. All of their friends were gathered around Sam’s card table in his living room… Charlie, Jo, Benny, Gabe, and Balthazar. Snacks were spread across the table, along with a slew of empty and currently nursed beer bottles. Although there was plenty of room for an additional chair, Cas had planted himself on Dean’s lap, never wanting to stray too far from him. He was sitting centered, legs bracketing Dean’s, feet planted firmly on the floor so as to take some of the pressure off, not wanting Dean’s legs to fall asleep from the weight of a grown man crushing them. Dean didn’t seem to mind the intrusion, glancing around Cas’s shoulder to view the cards laid on the table, deciding whether to play or to fold. Cas, never the lucky one of the pair, wasn’t playing and was starting to get restless.

It was a quiet night, the occupants of the small room focused intently on the game at hand, not much conversation taking place. He shifted his weight while fidgeting, hands pressed into Dean’s knees, and heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. Never one to pass up a chance to make his love smile, he paused for a beat, then drummed his fingers just once. Cas could feel Dean tensing beneath him, breath momentarily hitching in his throat. He could imagine the twitch of Dean’s lips as tried to hide his smile. Playing innocent, Cas lifted his hands, snuggling back into Dean’s chest, lulling him into a false sense of security, feeling Dean relax beneath him.

The card game continued, the sound of cards shuffling, being dealt and then laid against the table a calming backdrop to the low rumble of conversation taking place among the group. Dean was swept back into the game, paying no attention to the smirk growing on Cas’s face. Cas waited until Dean was thoroughly distracted by the cards being laid down on the table, taking in his own hand to decide his fate. He shifted forward and began pinching Dean’s knees rapidly, squeezing fingers firmly on either side of both knees caps.

Taken by surprise, Dean let out a squawk, followed by a stream of bubbly giggles. Encouraged by the adorable noises escaping his boyfriend, Cas continued pinching, spidering over the tops of Dean’s knees as well. Dean flailed as much as the weight of a grown man on top of him would allow, legs kicking out on reflex. Leaning forward, chest pressed into Cas’s back, head tucked into his shoulder, trying to hide his snickers, Cas felt Dean try to reach around him to set his cards down. To free up his own hands, for protection or revenge, Cas wasn’t sure, but he assumed probably a little of both, and he surely wasn’t going to chance the latter. Cas glanced behind him and saw the exact moment Dean’s face morphed into realization of how utterly screwed he was, and Cas couldn’t help but snicker himself at the look of panic.

Cards missed the table’s edge, falling to the floor while Dean tried latching onto Cas’s hands to stop the tickling, to no avail. That’s when the pleading started. Bubbly cries of stop, and please, were mixed within Dean’s loud laughter. Dean chanted Cas’s name over and over again like a prayer, Cas, Cas, Cas, the word laced with mirth, and music to Cas’s ears. If it was meant to deter Cas, it wasn’t working, rather fueling his desire to draw out more laughter. Dean had given up trying to stop the attack, instead trying to launch a counter attack of his own. He got in a few random pinches to Cas’s sides, but that only encouraged Cas to tickle faster and harder, causing Dean’s giggles to take on a high pitched, squeaky quality, the longer he went without a full breath.

Cas decided to give Dean a moment’s break, pausing his wriggling fingers. Dean gulped in air, giggling shakily in between breaths. A few moments passed, and Dean’s breathing slowed. Cas deemed Dean sufficiently recovered, and not chancing an opportunity for retaliation, wasted no time, pushing his back flush against Dean’s chest, pinning him against the back of the chair. Dean didn’t have time to react before Cas was reaching behind him and tweaking Dean’s hips and any worry Cas had of Dean tickling him back was forgotten. Dean had his head thrown back, shaking it wildly, smile shining brightly, cackles bouncing around the previously silent room. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over with every squeeze of Cas’s fingers. Dean clawed at Cas’s hands, but it did little to deter him.

The group just watched in awe as two grown men had a full blown tickle fight.

Dean’s POV:

Dean didn’t know how he’d gotten himself into this mess. One minute he’d been playing a relaxing game of poker, enjoying a beer with his boyfriend snuggled in his lap, next thing he knew he was getting the snot tickled out of him. Dammit Cas. His knees weren’t even that bad, but the relaxed mood Dean was in, paired with the few beers he’d already consumed, had him belting out laughter quicker than usual. He tried losing the cards in favor of returning the attack, but the effort was futile. If only he could gain some leverage, get more than a few pokes and prods into the Angel’s own ticklish sides, but Cas was Not. Letting. Up. and Dean’s need to protect his own sensitivities was winning out over any chance at retaliation. He could do nothing but giggle his poor head off and wait for Cas to have mercy.

Just when Dean thought that time would never come, the Angel retracted his hands. Distracted by his efforts to calm himself down and momentary thoughts of revenge, Dean didn’t notice Cas shift back against him until it was too late. As Cas latched onto his worst spot, Dean had a moment to internally panic. Shit, shit, shit! Not the hips! And then he was gone. Cackling like a madman, Dean was sure this was how he would die. Tickled to death by an Angel in his lap. As the world blurred out around him, eyes squeezed shut and tears forming in the corners, his mind could register nothing but the electricity tweaking through his hips. And as he was driven beyond hysterics, Dean silently vowed to never let Cas sit on his lap again. Until next time of course…..

Complete inner monologue because I cannot write dialogue to save my soul.

Not signed up for tickletober but this was stuck in my head.