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dickspeightjrs · 4 years ago

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It’s Just a Little Crush (au / 2.2k words)

Prompt 7 from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ for @starclaire

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“Okay guys, we got a little time to kill before the bell so talk amongst yourselves. But keep it quiet.” Dean warns.

It’s an ordinary Tuesday morning in Dean’s home room class. He’s got a good bunch this year - a few interesting personalities for sure.

“Mr Winchester?”

Ah, speaking of interesting personalities.

“Yes, Krissy?” He looks up from the lesson plan he’d put together for his sophomore class first period. He frowns when he sees the eyes of all twenty-something kids staring back at him. “What’s going on?”

Nothing would surprise him anymore. He may have only been teaching at this particular school for a couple of years but he’d been an auto shop teacher for going on ten. He’d seen everything. And that’s why he knew having his entire home room look at him, like his kids currently were, wasn’t always a good thing.

“What’s the deal with you and Mr Novak?” She smirks.

Mr Novak, Castiel, is head of the history department. He’d started at the school about a year before Dean. He’s a little dorky and doesn’t always get people’s jokes or references but Dean knows the kids love him. He’s had many auto shop classes that begin with students telling him all about the ‘totally awesome’ history lesson they’d just had with Mr Novak.

Dean pretends not to understand the implication in Krissy’s question. “What do you mean?”

But Krissy isn’t letting it go. “It’s just that we’ve all noticed that you get into the same car with Mr Novak every day after school.” She shrugs, feigning innocence as if her words aren’t peppered with sly suggestions. “And we all know it’s your car because you never stop going on about it even though it’s old as hell and no one, except old men, drive cars like that anymore.”

Dean tries not to be offended on behalf of his baby. He wasn’t going to argue with a teenager about the merits of a well-kept classic vintage car. Not again anyway.

“It ain’t any of your business, Krissy, but Mr Novak doesn’t have a car so I drive him home.” Dean explains. “Happy?”

Krissy seems to relent, realising she’s not going to get a rise out of her teacher today.

“Nah,” comes a voice from the back row. “I reckon there’s more to it than that.”

The class shuffles around to reveal Claire Novak smirking back at the teacher. She has a mischievous look in her eyes that Dean doesn’t like. She has the rest of the students intrigued though.

Claire’s sly look only gets bigger as she begins to speak again. “I think they’re secretly dating,” she says, never taking her eyes off Dean, watching for his reaction.

Dean sighs. Where is that damn bell?

“No, Claire, me and Mr Novak are not dating,” he denies. “And you of all people should know that.”

Claire is Castiel’s niece. Her dad is Castiel’s twin brother, Jimmy. Jimmy came to school to pick Claire up once and it weirded everyone out seeing the exact replica of their favourite teacher stood right next to the man himself.

“Okay, fine,” Claire relents, “but you like him, right?”

Dean is saved from answering by the bell finally ringing.

* * *

Dean was foolish to hope that the details of the interrogation he’d received would stay in home room.

By third period, he’d heard students from each of his classes whisper as they were meant to be working. He couldn’t make out everything they were saying but he kept hearing the words ‘crush’ and ‘Mr Novak’ in the same sentence.

Crush? Dean is a grown man. He hasn’t had a crush since he met his first boyfriend when he was sixteen.

He takes a deep breath. It’ll blow over soon.

* * *

It does not blow over.

A week later and everyone is still talking about. Even some of the other teachers have been giving Dean knowing looks every time he’s sat next to Castiel in the teacher’s lounge. Though, Cas seems to remain none the wiser.

By the end of the day, Dean is glad to see his baby. He couldn’t wait to get home and be distracted from the rumours of his feelings for his fellow teacher.

As usual, Castiel joins him for the journey. Luckily, none of their students seem to be around when they get into the car.

Once they leave the school parking lot, Dean breathes a sigh of relief. He can just be himself now, and not worry about what other people are thinking.

The two men sit in silence for a few moments. Dean’s eyes are on the road ahead. Driving always calms him.

“Dean, can I ask you something?”

“Think you just did, Cas,” Dean smirks, not taking his eyes from the road.

“You’re hilarious,” Castiel replies. Dean sees him roll his eyes from the corner of his own. His smirk just gets bigger.

“I’ve been hearing some things around school recently,” Cas says, his voice changing to a more serious tone. “And, I just wanted to ask. Do you have a crush on me?”

It’s silent in the car for a few moments until Dean is the first to crack.

He lets out a loud bark of laughter. “I can’t believe you managed to say that with a straight face.” He chuckles, shaking his head in amusement.

The car pulls into the driveway of a modest two-storey house. Dean cuts the engine and turns to Cas.

The other man is quietly laughing too. He looks quite amused with himself. He is honestly such a dork, Dean thinks.

But then his face turns serious again. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you have a crush on me?” He asks again.

Dean thinks for a minute, taking in the man sitting in front of him. “Do I have a crush on my best friend, and husband of thirteen years? Yeah, I guess I do.”

Dean gives Cas a teasing smile and leans across the passenger seat to bring his husband into a smiling kiss.

* * *

Later that evening, Dean and Castiel are laying together in their bed. Only a lamp on the nightstand lights the room, letting out a relaxing glow.

Castiel reaches out to let Dean cuddle up to him. Dean rests his head on Castiel’s chest. He plays with the fingers on Castiel’s left hand. Castiel lets him and goes with the movement when Dean turns his hand over to reveal the small ‘18’ tattooed on the underside of his ring finger.

They’d met on September 18th in their junior year of high school. From that day, Castiel had been Dean’s first and only crush.

Castiel and Jimmy had just transferred from their old school. It was some old-fashioned super religious school but some bad shit had gone down and the school had to close. Dean’s school had been the next best thing according to Castiel's overbearing, church-going, Jesus devotee parents.

Dean and Castiel became inseparable by the time it came for them to graduate. By then, everyone knew they were together but they didn’t care. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end for them.

For obvious reasons, Castiel’s parents were the only ones who had never found out about their relationship. Given what they thought about anyone who wasn’t straight, the boys thought it was safer to keep it from them. They didn’t know what they might try to do to Castiel if they found out.

The day after their graduation, Dean had packed up his car and they ran away. They went to college in another state and never looked back. Castiel had left his parents a note explaining everything and telling them not to try and contact him - though Castiel didn’t think they’d want to after they’d found out he was gay.

Dean’s family knew where they’d gone (they’d always been supportive of their relationship since the beginning). They welcomed Castiel into their family and treated him like their own. They’d visit the boys for the holidays and eventually, once Dean’s brother, Sam, finished high school, they all moved to be closer to their boys.

Castiel had felt guilty for years for leaving his brother but in their second year of college, Jimmy tracked Castiel down and told him he’d left too. (Turns out he’d got his high school girlfriend, Amelia, pregnant and their parents didn’t take kindly to it happening out of wedlock.)

Dean and Castiel got married while they were still in college. Most people would warn them against getting married so young but their family knew they weren’t being naive. They were it for each other.

They had a small ceremony on the anniversary of their first meeting. Sam and Jimmy had been best men and two-year-old Claire was their flower girl. (Despite what her attitude now might make you think, she was an adorable toddler who stole the show with her adorable presence.)

Over the years, they’d kept their marriage on the down low. Castiel was a little paranoid that his parents would somehow find them and try to take him away from Dean and their family. They had a lot of connections and Castiel wouldn’t put it past them to use those connections to find him.

So, when they both became teachers and ended up working at the same high school, Castiel had asked Dean if he could be called Mr Novak so as not to draw attention to them. (Same sex marriage might be legal now but it would still turn heads to have two husbands teaching at the same school, which was the kind of thing Castiel wanted to avoid.) Dean had agreed, he just wanted his husband to feel safe. They still went home together at the end of the day and that’s all that mattered to him.

But it is that exact act which has led them to where they are now.

“Dean,” Castiel speaks into his husband’s hair. “I think it’s time to tell everyone the truth.”

Dean turns to sit up properly and look at Castiel.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to. I know you love and I sure as shit love you,” he reassures Cas. “Plus, it’s only your teacher name that’s still ‘Novak’. Legally, you’re a Winchester,” he smiles.

“I know, but I want to be honest with our coworkers and students too.” Castiel explains. “And maybe I want to show them that you’re not the only one with a crush,” he teases.

“Awesome.” Dean beams. “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it anyways. We’ll just start wearing our rings tomorrow and they’ll figure it out.”

Castiel nods in agreement.

Dean could just burst with happiness. He’d finally be able to show Castiel off like he’s always wanted to.

Currently, his wedding ring sat against his chest on a silver chain under his shirt. Castiel keeps his safely tucked away, only taking it out for special family occasions (hence why he got the tattoo - as a more subtle and personal token of his love for Dean). Dean couldn’t wait to feel the weight of the ring on his finger every day. And knowing Castiel would be walking around with his matching one makes Dean smile like a love-sick dork.

Suddenly feeling like a kid on Christmas Eve, Dean settles down into the sheets again, eagerly awaiting sleep to take him so it could hurry up and be morning.

He’s just drifting into sleep when Castiel’s voice whispers against his ear.

“Dean?”

Dean hums, not mustering the energy to turn over and face his husband.

“Not that I’m not happy that it gave me the perspective to stop being scared, but where did the rumours of you having a crush on me come from anyway?”

Trust Cas to think of the semantics just as Dean is trying to sleep.

Dean only has one word.

“Claire.”

Castiel sighs. “I should have known. I’ll talk to her.”

Dean finally turns to look at Cas in the eyes. Green meets blue. “Don’t sweat it, babe,” he smiles. “She’s just teasing like all teenagers do. She would never actually tell anyone anything we’re not comfortable with.”

Castiel shrugs and nods his head in silent agreement.

“I’ll just get her back when we go to your brother’s for dinner on Sunday.” Dean yawns, cheekily.

Castiel rolls his eyes. The joking rivalry between Dean and their niece never seems to end.

Dean smirks and leans over to kiss Castiel. “Goodnight, Mr Winchester.”

“Good night, Dean.”

* * *

The next morning, Dean walks into his home room class and begins the regular formalities of the morning.

Claire walks in late a few minutes later. She says nothing to Dean until she sits down at her desk, puts her feet up on the table, and says in a nonchalant manner, “Nice ring, Mr Winchester.”

The rest of the class look to Dean’s hand. Sure enough there’s a silver band on his left hand that hadn’t been there the day before.

“I just saw a matching one on my uncle’s hand when I handed in my history project. Isn’t that a funny coincidence?” She smirks as the rest of the students’ mouths drop open. Dean’s known Claire long enough to know that it’s a smirk of love though.

The news of his and Castiel’s marriage (and Castiel’s new teacher name) reaches his freshman class by second period. He should have known it wouldn’t take long.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it Mae!

If you liked what you saw, REBLOG! and consider reserving a prompt from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ challenge, or just send me your own prompt you’d like me to fill!

TAGS: @eccentriccas @starrynightdeancas @credentiast @imbiowaresbitch @starclaire @cockleslovesdestiel @bend-me-shape-me @destielfactory @dea-stiel @wendeano @wingsandimpalas @aggressivedean @flowersforcas @chill-legilimens @pancakesofthelord @saltnhalo @caslikescoffeeandfreckles @assbuttboyfriends @jhoomwrites @breathingdestiel @simplymisha @thekingslover

(once again tagging my faves, let me you if you’d like to be removed from future fics - or added if you’re not already there!)

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groundcontrol21 · 2 years ago

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Sicktember #30

Prompt #30: “Get Back in Bed”

Character(s): Jonathan and Sarah

Title: A Bit of Sun

Summary: Jonathan and Sarah have opposing ideas of the best place to be when recovering from a cold. They make it work.

Sarah awoke, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and feeling the crease on her cheek from her pillow, smiling at how rested she felt despite how early it was, judging from the slant of the sun through the great windows. She squinted at the sunlight and frowned at the figure which was illuminated in a ray of dancing dust motes.

“I know I must be still dreaming,” he said, and her husband turned away from the window to face her. “I know that you’re not up out of bed considering the confession I got from you last night.”

Still in his bedclothes, Jonathan at least had the good grace to look a bit sheepish, no doubt remembering how he had curled into a ball beneath the heavy down comforter and admitted he wasn’t well. Still, he fixed his wife with a resolute gaze. “I wanted to see the sun.”

“Is that not the reason we had the bed positioned so?” Sarah tapped at the solid oak of the bedposts. “So that we can see it perfectly from here when the blinds are drawn back?”

“I had to draw them back,” Jonathan explained as though talking to a child, miming tucking the curtains behind their hooks.

Sarah took the same tone with him. “So come back to bed then, now that they are open.”

Jonathan’s breath hitched, and a sneeze followed, seeming to take him completely by surprise. “Heh’KSHHH!” The spittle swirled amidst the dust motes in the sun.

“Exactly,” Sarah said, allowing herself a bit of smugness.

“Exactly nothing,” Jonathan grumbled, only to produce a handkerchief from somewhere on his person, which only further proved Sarah correct; the man did not take a handkerchief to bed with him when he was at all well. “I didn’t want to wake you after I kept you so long awake last night.”

Sarah frowned; after he had come to bed, miserable and aching, he had begun to cough those irritated, ticklish coughs of a man coming down with a cold, until a good while after midnight. “Jonathan…”

“I’ve been feeling sneezy and shivery since I awoke and I thought the sun would–Ehh’HESHHH’uhh! AHh’KSSHH! Heh’TSCHHH!” He sniffled, the sound half-drowned, before shaking his head and blowing his nose with a steady, firm pressure.

Her heart clenching, Sarah sat up and took her robe from its hook beside the bed. “You shouldn’t have worried about that. You’re not feeling well, and I’m certain you’d feel better in bed.” She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing a bit in a manner she hoped was comforting. “Come, I’m the expert on this cold, given it was mine first.”

Jonathan lowered the handkerchief with a sniffle and a smile. “Since I’m up, I will sit outside on the balcony for a while.” When Sarah remained unconvinced, he continued. “Having had a front row seat to your cold, I can say that I might as well seize the opportunity to be somewhere else besides the bed in these next few days while I still have it in me.”

A spot of guilt pinged in Sarah’s stomach; it was precisely because Jonathan had sat beside her, read to her, kept her company while she had been ill that he was in this position at all. But she pushed it away, reminding herself as Jonathan had reminded her, that this is what friends do for each other.

“I suppose it is a nice morning,” she conceded. “I will take us some blankets.”

The two of them went out to the balcony, Sarah chasing Jonathan with a heap of all the blankets she could carry from the chest at the foot of their bed. Once he was seated comfortably, she bundled him up like a newborn babe.

“Warm enough?”

Jonathan’s eyes slid closed, but he smiled contently as the sun bathed his face and his shivers eased. “Quite. Thank you.”

Sarah darted back inside to fetch the book Jonathan had been reading to her while she’d been ill, and took residence in a chair just across from him to repay the favor. He looked so peaceful basking in the sunlight, and a bit hilarious besides, simply a mess of blankets with just a face and a bit of toe sticking out. Giggling a bit to herself, she withdrew the bookmark and began reading, quickly losing herself in the words just the same way as she had when it had been Jonathan reading to her.

“Sarah?”

She looked up instantly from her book, worry striking her heart when she saw Jonathan watching her, face pale, body trembling beneath the pile of blankets. His teeth chattered as he spoke. “I-I think I should go i-inside. I’m not feeling well.”

“Of course.” She was at his side in an instant, her palm at his forehead. “You’re running a fever now.”

*He ducked into the folds of the blanket to run through a fit of sneezing. “Heh’SHHOO! Ihh’TSHHH’uhh! Ihh’TSHHH! Heh…Ihhhh…Ihh’SHHH’uhhh! HESHHH! Snf!”

“Oh, Jonathan,” she said, the guilt she had felt before returning and twisting in her stomach like a knife. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He accepted her arm to lean on as they went back inside, into the bedroom. He quirked a smile. “Married life, is it not?”

She smiled back, but it felt hollow. “Still, I just…”

“Hate to see such a dear friend fall ill,” Jonathan concluded as he plopped back down upon the bed. He sighed and looked at her with honest, open eyes. “I know. I felt the same way when you had this. I feel it every month when you are in agony and I am powerless to stop it.”

Affection swirled in her breast, and Sarah leaned to press a kiss to his hot forehead as he sank back against the pillows. “I’ll send for some tea and lemon. Is there anything else that would make you feel better?”

“You’ll want to smother me with my pillow for this, but…” Jonathan trailed off with a self-effacing laugh. “Draw the blinds? My head is pounding.”

Sarah gave a laugh of her own before alighting from the bed and pulling the blinds shut, shaking her head all the while. “I’ll tell Mary to prepare some of her headache powder as well.”

#last one :((((#tears #my writing #ocs: jonathan and sarah #sicktember 2022 #snzfic #sicktember day 30 #the world needs so much more historic snz fic

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cinlat · 5 years ago

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May Drabbles - Day 30

Prompt: “Let them hear.” (New) Characters: Cherub Orlov/Javon Konstantopoulos (@kunoichi-ume) Story/Series: -- Word Count: 700 A/N: These are a couple of new characters that we like to play around with from time to time. They don’t really belong anywhere, and are actually hiding at the edge of the galaxy on the planet Batuu where no one can bother them. Cher is a mute dock worker who has struck up a friendship (which led to a relationship) with disgruntled Barsen’thor Javon Konstantopoulos. He landed on Batuu in the hopes of finding peace after the Jedi Order all but fell apart in Arcann’s wake, but found a student/lover in one of the locals.

“Focus, Cher.” If Javon told Cherub to clear her mind one more time, she couldn’t be responsible for her actions. It was easy for the former Jedi. He was smart, brave, and fully trained in how to use his powers. The most Cherub had ever done was break lamps when she pitched a fit as a baby. It scared her parents so much that she’d tried not to act out ever again. Javon might be the exception to that rule.

A deep chuckle made Cherub open her eyes to find Javon smiling at her. His face was scruffier than usual, adding to his disguise as a merchant. When Cherub folded her arms in protest, his mirth bloomed into a full laugh. “I take it you’d like me to stop talking?”

Cherub shook her head. She loved Javon’s voice. It was full of compassion, life, and a sense of sadness that he would never discuss. “No?” The Jedi responded, his thick accent sending a shiver up her spine. “Perhaps a break, then?”

That, Cherub wouldn’t turn down. They’d been sitting on the floor of ruins in the middle of the jungle for hours while Javon attempted to teach her how to communicate without a voice. No one knew why she couldn’t speak. It was something Cherub had given up trying to understand years ago. The why didn’t change the fact that Cherub had no idea what her own voice sounded like.

Shaking those thoughts away, Cherub stretched while Javon rose to his feet. She huffed at the amount of grace he displayed, knowing that she would never be able to match him. “Don’t make that noise at me, young lady,” the Jedi chastised playfully. “I could teach you, if you’d only--”

Before Cherub realized that she’d moved, her body was across the rocky ledge and her hand over Javon’s mouth. She didn’t want to hear any more about focusing, and judging by the spark in his celestial eyes, he knew it. Pulling her hand free, Javon nodded to where she’d been sitting. “Impressive.”

Cherub looked behind her, realizing that she’d leapt at least four meters to reach him. She gasped, eyes wide in astonishment. That was impossible. Cherub Orlov, simple dock worker on a backwater planet forgotten by the rest of the galaxy, wasn’t capable of such feats. When her gaze settled back on Javon, his smile confirmed it. “Yes, you did. Now, do you believe me?”

Nodding, Cherub allowed herself to be led to the broken balcony of what had once been a beautiful temple. “The Force is stronger in this place,” Javon whispered with a reverence that Cherub wished she understood. Placing his hands on her hips, Javon urged her to the edge. When she resisted, his fingers tightened around her belt. “You know that I won’t let you fall.”

After a moment to consider whether Cherub really trusted a man who’d been a perfect stranger a few months back, her muscles relaxed. Javon had saved her honor that day, and possibly her life. He was her friend, and the only one who communicated with her like she was normal. So often people equated her silence with mental deficiency. Eventually, Cherub had stopped fighting them. Now, Javon was trying to give her back a modicum of that pride. Having someone like him in her life was still new enough that Cherub waited for it to end, yet every day, Javon lingered.

“Close your eyes and feel the world around you,” Javon directed. Cherub obeyed, focusing on the weight of his hands around her waist while trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach. “You are connected to all life in this galaxy. If you reach deep enough, even the smallest spark can register.” Javon’s words washed over her, his voice lulling Cherub into a trance that she never wanted to wake from. She was warm and freer than she’d ever felt before in the universe he painted.

“You’ve spent all of your life hiding from this gift,” Javon continued, his voice close to her ear. “It’s time for your voice to take its place amongst our brothers and sisters scattered among the stars. It’s time, to let them hear.”

#cinlat drabbles #whydidwedothis #may drabbles '19 #cherub orlov #ume oc: Javon Konstantopoulos #ship: jedi/civilian

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