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dcforts · 5 years ago

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[monday 4: bet]

ao3

Four times Eileen thought Dean and Castiel were more than friends and one time Sam (finally) saw it too.

Eileen likes the bunker. As a hunter you learn to be grateful and appreciative of things that others give for granted. Like waking up feeling safe, knowing that nothing can jump right through your window and attack you. Like pressing your cheek on a soft pillow without having to worry about bed bugs and filth. Like opening your bedroom door and smelling coffee.

She smiles and follows it right to the kitchen.

She doesn’t expect to find Castiel standing next to the coffee machine. He is in his usual attire, looking exactly as the last time she’s seen him. He looks up as soon as she enters and smiles politely at her. “Good morning” he says, “Would you like some coffee?”.

She smiles back, nods and waits for him to fill her a mug.

Then she sits at the table and watches as Dean appears on the door, his eyes sleepy, his hair messy, the belt of his robe loosely tied. He waves lazily in her direction then goes straight towards Castiel, holding out a hand to grab the mug that he was already offering him. No words between them, just soft smiles, as if it’s a thing they do every day. She has not been around the Winchesters that much but she is fairly sure she’s never seen a more content expression on Dean’s face.

He sits down next to her and closes his eyes, lost in the smell of the coffee.

“Good morning to me” she reads on his lips, with his eyes still closed, as if he’s talking to himself.

So, you know, Eileen is a very good observer. It’s a crucial skill for a hunter, especially someone who hunts alone and has no extra pair of eyes to rely on.

Later that day, Eileen and Sam are pressed against each other on a couch, both ignoring how “sharing a laptop” is a such a lame excuse for two adults to sit closely together. But whatever. Sam is showing her a restricted online archive about lore in European historical findings that he was able to crack into when she catches Dean passing by the door and she remembers about that morning.

“Sam,” she interrupts whatever he was saying on some magical old stones. “can I ask you a question?”

He nods. “Sure.”

“Castiel and your brother,” she signs, hoping that that’s enough input for Sam. Clearly it isn’t, because he keeps looking as if he’s expecting her to go on. “Are they… together?”

He frowns and ask: “Together? As in…?”

In response she signs: “Love.”

Sam has the funniest reaction. His face goes blank and he starts staring into the distance as if he’s processing a word he is not used to hear. He snaps out of it right when Eileen is wondering if she should wave a hand in front of his face. “No,” he says, “it’s not like that.”

She gives him a look as if to say “Please”.

“Really, they – they are like brothers.”

Eileen makes a disgusted face and signs: “Brothers?”

He makes an annoyed face back. “Yes. It’s not like that,” he repeats.

“They act like a couple,” she signs.

He shakes his head. “You are wrong.”

“It looks like there’s something more between them,” she insists in the face of his blunt denial. “Wanna bet?” she signs raising her eyebrows.

Sam frowns and signs: “I’m not betting on my brother.”

“Come on.” she says, then signs “If I win, I want you to cook for me.”

Sam laughs. “I can just do it. No need for any of this.”

She shakes her head and smiles: “Don’t worry, you will. When I win.”

ii.

They’ve been working like crazy, taking all kinds of jobs up and down the state. It’s tiring but as a team of four they can get it down in a fraction of the time it would take if they were on their own. Plus, it’s definitely more fun even if it feels like they barely have the time to put down their bags before something else comes up and they’re out of the bunker again.

This time, it looks like a simple enough job that could take two days top. Sam is checking their supplies once again and Castiel is sitting at the map table flipping through a magazine when Dean finally appears in the room.

“Alright, let’s go” he says clapping his hands together.

Sam looks up and makes an horrified face: “Wait. Dean, what are you wearing?”

“What? Oh, yeah. It’s a cowboy shirt.”

“You can’t wear that. With that thing on your shoulders. We are not going trick or treating.”

“Hey! Don’t insult the shirt.”

Eileen laughs at the exchange so Sam addresses her. “Eileen, please tell him.”

She just shrugs amused and Sam looks betrayed so Dean keeps going: “It’s not my fault we’ve been out all week and I didtn’t have time to do my laundry. This is the only clean thing I have left.”

“Well, you can’t come dressed like that. Just take one of mine.”

“You have freakishly long arms, Sam, I’m gonna look like I’ve shrunked in my clothes.”

Eileen turns to Castiel who seems engrossed in his magazine that has titles on the cover of the kind “Top 10 poisonous plants you can find in the jungle” right next to “What colours should you paint your garden shed”. It looks like he is used to it and knows that staying away from their arguments is the safest strategy to survive with the Winchesters. She taps him on his shoulder. “What do you think?” she signs, interrupting Dean and Sam who are still going at it.

Castiel looks up but Dean cuts him off before he can open his mouth: “Why are you asking him for? He has never changed once in his life.”

Castiel shoots him an annoyed look but doesn’t respond to the provocation. “Did you check the laundry room?” he says calmly instead.

Sam glances over his shoulder to look at him.

Dean just stares, seemingly confused.

“You always forget your clean clothes in the laundry room. There should be a red one that you haven’t wore this week yet. I assume it’s still there.”

Dean thinks about it for a few seconds, then nods: “Yeah, you’re probably right. Be right back.”

Castiel sighs and goes back to his magazine without another word.

Sam’s gaze meets Eileen’s. She raises her eyebrows and signs “Cute”.

Sam mouths back. “It means nothing”.

She just laughs and takes the stairs.

iii.

It’s a rainy afternoon and they are keeping busy cleaning their weapons and filling shotgun shells of rock salt. At some point Sam looks up from where he is sitting right next to Eileen.

“Hey Cas,” he says “remember that book that you were reading last week about sigils? I wondered if I could borrow that. I wanted to scan it and send it around to other hunters.”

“Sounds like a good plan. I’ll give to you later.”

“Oh, no, there’s no rush if you are still reading it.”

“It’s not bother. I’m not reading tonight anyway. I’m watching a movie with Dean.”

Dean, on the other side of the table, lifts his gaze for a moment at the sound of his name then goes back to his gun.

“O-okay, thanks.” says Sam.

Eileen meets his gaze briefly and holds back a smile.

Only when they are left alone she nudges him with an elbow and Sam knows immediately what she is going to address.

He grumbles: “They watch movies together all the time, they are friends!”

Eileen shakes her head. “But why haven’t they invited us?” she signs, then answers her own question: “Date night.”

“No, you don’t understand. Dean has been showing him all the stuff he doesn’t know.”

“I understand very well that I won the bet” she says challenging him.

Sam sighs and signs. “There is no bet. And it’s not like that.”

iv.

They are on a hunt. Well, actually they are at some kind of fair. The spirit they are chasing has shown up in all the towns that the travelling fair has hit in the past few months, so the safest bet is that it’s somehow hunting the place.

For now, they are just walking around in the crowd, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. They have a duffel bag full of salt, shotguns and blades but from the outside they just look like four people that have come out to enjoy the fair on a fine evening.

Dean is in a very good mood. “I can’t believe they still do these things” was his comment on the way there and since they’ve arrived he has been complaining that he can’t stop at none of the games before the job is done. Eileen finds endearing the way he manages to protect that part of him that makes him excited for things like that even with the life he has. It’s not easy to reconcile the image of that man with sparkly eyes with the one she has seen swaying a machete a couple of days before.

“Hey!” he shouts at one point, jogging a few feet ahead of them and waving to get their attention. “Guys, look, it’s Cas!” He stops at one of the stands and grabs a tan teddy bear with a blue tie that is on display. Sam snorts and Dean keeps grinning like it’s the funniest thing ever and points at Castiel who has an expression on his face that seems to say Did we really stop for this? “It’s you!” Dean laughs again “I bet you didn’t know you had a twin, uh?”

“Alright, let’s go,” Sam tries to get them moving again and Dean jogs back up to them and falls in steps with Castiel.

Eileen looks his way in time to see him put his arm around Castiel’s shoulders and pull him close. His lips read: “What? It was adorable. Wanna win it for me later?”

She turns her face to look at Sam and finds him next to her.

“Adorable” she mouths at him. He rolls his eyes. “He just likes to joke”.

It happens again and again. Eileen looks pointedly at Sam when Dean pops into the kitchen to say “Me and Cas are going out. Need anything?” or when they find them engaged in a serious conversation or sharing a drink. She looks at him whenever Dean calls Castiel “Sunshine” and whenever Castiel asks “Where’s Dean?” before he even gets both of his feet in the room.

Sam dismisses every moment, finds every excuse for them. They’ve always been like that. Can’t two friends do it? Does it have to mean something? It’s just the way they are.

Now, Sam is in a sticky diner with his brother who is across from him and can’t seem to sit still. A couple of days before they got two calls in a matter of hours and they’ve gone north while Eileen has gone south. Coincidentally Cas has been contacted about a lead on God’s position so he’s gone too.

So it’s just the two of them again and Dean is tapping on the screen of his phone every two seconds as if he doesn’t trust that it will let him know if he has a new notification.

“Dude, what’s up with you?” snaps Sam when he can’t take anymore of his fidgeting.

“Cas.” he grumbles. “I texted him last night and I got no word back yet. We said we would check in with each other every night, so...” he frowns.

“I’m sure he is fine” Sam says, before thanking the waiter that brings them their food.

Setting down his plate his gaze falls on his own phone, and he is reminded of the last time he texted Eileen and she has taken a long time to reply. How he worried, how he needed to know she was fine. How he feels on his fingertips the need to type something to her right now. How he can’t wait to see her again.

He looks up at Dean who’s taking a bite of his burger.

“What?” he says with his mouth full in response to his staring,

Sam smiles a little. “Nothing.”

Dean takes another bite, still watching him so Sam sighs. “Dean,” he dares, “with Cas. I mean… is there…”

He gets interrupted by Dean’s phone lighting up with an incoming call. His brother drops his burger and picks it up without a care for his greasy hands.

“Finally.” He says, then presses it against his ear: “What did we say, uh? How many times I gotta tell you?” he barks in lieu of Hello.

Sam watches him while he listens to whatever Castiel is saying on the other end. He sees his forehead striped with worried lines relax by the second.

When Dean speaks again his voice is definitely softer. “You are an idiot, but alright. Yeah, we just got here,” the frown disappears and his voice goes quieter still, “Okay. Yeah, I’ll see you at home.” his eyes flicker to Sam and he clears his throat so when he speaks again his tone is back to normal. “Remind me to kick your ass for making me worry.”

Castiel says something back that Sam assumes sounds like You can try because Dean’s eyebrows rise comically. “What? You don’t think I can take you?” he says. “Yeah tough guy, anytime. Wanna bet?”

Sam tunes out. He touches his phone and opens up his conversation with Eileen. He types:

Alright, what do you want me to cook?

I am participating in the spnstayathomechallenge by @bend-me-shape-me @pray4jensen @helianthus21

#spnstayathome #monday 4: bet #deancas #destiel #deancas fanfiction #okay so 1 i really like 'like a bear dean'#2 i really like 'they are basically married deancas'#an unapologetic about it #no actual focus on sam and eileen even if in my head they are a thing in this one #saileen #hey look this one has a title #im making progress #i don't actually believe sam is this oblivious but i needed him to be #ive always wanted to write a 4 times + 1 kind of thing #i tried #deancas ficlet #deancas ficlets #my writing

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soleeryx · 5 years ago

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monday 5: motel DEAN. I SAID NO. talk to me.

@helianthus21 @pray4jensen @bend-me-shape-me

#supernatural #SpnStayAtHome #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #my art #oh this one is angsty #oh season 8 mood again

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all-or-nothing-baby · 5 years ago

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arted for @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21 and @pray4jensen's SPNSTAYATHOME CHALLENGE (massive thanks, guys!) ...monday 8: HOPE

[click on image for better quality]

2020 DESTIEL ENDGAME BABIES!!!

tags under cut; let me know if you’d like adding/removing

rad tag bunch: @petrichoravellichor @rauko-is-a-free-elf @aloha-cowgirl @suckerfordeansfreckles @jupiterjames @verobatto-angelxhunter @winchester-reload @wanderingcas @crack--attack @dammitsammy @ladystiltskin67 @cutelittlekittykorner @trenchcoatsandfreckles @shealynn88 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @hectatess @notwithd @peanutbutterandgrapejelly @legendary-destiel @ladywaywarddsc @ladygotsoul @avidbkwrm @superwholockandbooks-art @collectorofsecretsecretsandsouls @apieceofurmind @staycejo1 @mishezza @katekarnage7 @cloverhighfive @sillyyjackie @hellfire37 @pimentogirl @reallyelegantsharkfish @lemonsorbae @galaxy-charm @impulsivedandelion @michyribeiro @enchantedxpersona @stay-inside-the-salt-ring @proccastinate @shikaros-blog

#spnstayathome #monday 8: hope #destiel #destiel art #deancas #deancas art #destiel fanart #fanart #art #lucy's artwork #all-or-nothing-baby-arts #all-or-nothing-baby #adobe sketch #border made in pixlr

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masterofevilmonkeyness-moem · 5 years ago

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Angel kisses are the best

Monday 1: Feathers

for the #spnstayathome prompt

#Destiel #Destiel Fanart #Castiel #SpnStayAtHome #Feathers #Angel wings #Angel hugs and kisses are the best #Cas wings reflect the light #Sorry something went wrong when I first posted it #I messed up the colors of the wings #MOEM makes art #MasterOfEvilMonkeyness

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peanutbutterjelly-pie · 4 years ago

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prompt: Undercover

hosts: @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, @pray4jensen

Dean has been undercover for many times in his life.

FBI agent, Homeland Security officer, reporter, janitor, gym teacher, lunch lady, maintenance guy, minister, private detective, and so on and so on. The list is so long that he's actually more familiar with playing a role when interacting with strangers than being himself.

So when they're on yet another case again and Sam calls him from the local library and tells him to dress up Dean doesn't even think about questioning it.

“Your fanciest clothes,” Sam orders, making it pretty clear there should be no discussion about it. “Designer suit, shiny shoes. And a shave because you're starting to look like a hobo.”

Dean barely lifts an eyebrow. “What do you need me to be? A snobby multimillionaire too good for this world.”

“The snobbiest,” Sam agrees. “It needs to look like the stench of money is following you everywhere.”

And so Dean does as he's told.

A while ago he got himself one of those super expensive Armani or whatever outfits for a case (thanks to Charlie's unlimited credit card no problem at all) and has it stashed in the depths of Baby's trunk ever since. It's only been used once so far considering fake FBI agents or journalists are rarely dressed in designer suits. At least not if they don't want to draw too much unwanted attention to them.

Dean isn't exactly sure the damned thing still fits after all that time, but after a quick shower and shave he gives it a try and finds himself pleasantly surprised when the suit still wraps itself over his body like a glove. Only around the hips it got a bit tight, but if he'd refrain from bending over it should be fine.

And it actually makes his ass look extra great, Dean has to admit. He snaps a quick picture of it and sends it to Cas because he can't help himself. Cas answers immediately with a long string of enthusiastic emojis that are both incredibly sweet, involving lots of hearts, as well as highly inappropriate and Dean loves him even more for it.

He makes a mental note to wear that suit the next time they'll be alone to see how fast the angel would be able to rip the clothes off his body and then he heads out to meet with Sam.

Soon enough he finds himself in front of a jewelry store, with his tall mountain of a brother waiting at the entrance. He is dressed in fancy clothes as well and considering he left their motel room a few hours ago just with his usual plaid attire he obviously went shopping in the meantime. The suit doesn't fit a hundred percent in some places, making it obvious this was a rather quick shopping trip with no time for a proper fitting, but it makes him nonetheless look extra posh too.

“We look good,” Dean remarks with a grin as he stops next to Sam. “Like we could buy all of the world in a heartbeat and still have a couple of millions left as pocket money.”

Sam merely huffs with a fond smile. “If you say so.”

“So what is the situation?” Dean asks, pointing at the store.

“I just got a lead that our annoying spirit might have a connection to a wristband that's on display here,” Sam tells him. “It had belonged to her before she died. And I know it's not much, but I wanna check it out anyway.”

That specific spirit had been annoying them for days now because they were unable to figure out what kept her here in the first place. So Dean will take any lead they can get, no matter how small.

“I'm actually not very optimistic,” Sam explains with a sigh. “But our ghost is showing up here in the area, so it's not a total longshot. We just need to get inside and distract the employees a little.”

“Hence the fancy clothes.” Dean nods in understanding. He highly doubts they would've even gotten past the security guard on the door in their usual jeans. Most likely even their regular FBI suits wouldn't have been good enough.

“So we just go inside and one of us pretends to be a customer while the other subtly checks out that wristband?” Dean asks nonetheless.

Sam nods. “Don't worry, I have a plan.”

Dean blinks, but has no time for further questioning since Sam's already shoving him through the gigantic front door. He's instantly greeted with lots of bling and bright lights and the absolute perfect room temperature (like seriously, did they hire a guy just to keep a close eye on that the entire time?) before getting pushed to the main counter where a blonde woman with a way too wide smile happily waits to bury her flawlessly manicured nails into those new potential buyers.

“Welcome,” she says, her voice as melodic and perfect as the air in the store. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Well, we've got an important purchase to make,” Sam announces, sounding all kinds of pompous. “Because you see, my brother here,” he grabs Dean's shoulders and grins at him with such an intensity Dean can't help feeling wary all of a sudden, “he intends to propose to his boyfriend.”

Dean blinks rapidly.

What?

Okay, Dean certainly didn't expect that.

The woman – Marlene, as her name tag tells them – seems taken aback by that for a moment as well, but she picks herself up much quicker than Dean. Her smile increases a few thousand watt while she turns toward the groom-to-be. “This is wonderful. Congratulations!”

Dean feels a bit like he's been hit right in the face, out of nowhere.

Thankfully he is actually used to unexpected violent attacks and has learned fairly early to deal with them.

“Um … thanks,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heating up.

Marlene apparently misinterprets his awkward fumbling for adorable shyness or whatever and looks at him like she's ready to adopt him right here on the spot.

“You have to excuse him, this is still a bit much for him,” Sam leaps back into the conversation. “He's been thinking about this moment for years and I guess it might be a tad surreal that it's finally happening.”

“Really?” Marlene seems truly intrigued hearing that.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs way too dramatically, “Dean's basically been thinking about marrying Cas since the first moment they met.”

Well.

Actually his first meeting with Cas was more like Dean having a sudden realization á la, “Wow, he's hot!” and then stabbing the guy in the chest.

But Dean refrains from pointing that one out.

It might have ended in those people declaring them insane and kicking them out of the store. And though Dean is used to the first, he doesn't need the latter right now.

“Dean just wants everything to be perfect,” Sam points out, sounding exactly like a guy who is used to getting what he wants. “It's a big day.”

“It most certainly is,” Marlene agrees, dollar signs already flashing up in her eyes. “We have a vast collection of engagement rings and I'm sure we will find something to your liking.”

“Money is not the issue,” Sam says those magic words that make Marlene even more excited, so it seems. “The bigger and more extravagant, the better.”

Marlene smiles widens, appearing incredibly sweet and harmless on the surface. But Dean knows a predator focusing on its prey when he sees it.

On instinct he actually wants to take a step back and hide, but instead he gathers enough courage to meet her smile. It's still somewhat wobbly, but she probably blames it on his alleged nervousness about that big change in his life.

“Why don't you tell me a little bit about your Cas?” she prods him. “What is he like?”

Dean shoots a quick glance at his brother, cursing him for having to endure this in the first place, before clearing his throat and responding, “He's … um, awesome.”

Way to go, Winchester.

She is certainly swooning on the spot.

Dean winces inwardly and forces himself to get a little bit more into his role. After all, he is used to the undercover life, so this shouldn't be too hard.

For a minute there he even considers to lie about Cas' personality, wondering whether that would make it easier to talk about him to a total stranger, but as he's just about to come up with some made-up character traits, he hears himself saying, “Well, to be fair, he's an asshole.”

Marlene looks at him in surprise while Sam in the background rolls his eyes.

“Uh … okay?” Marlene answers, clearly not sure how to reply to that.

“Cas is grumpy,” Dean goes on, now a fond smile flickering over his features. “I'm quite certain he is the biggest grump in the history of mankind, to be honest. And he's way too sassy for his own good. Also he has no idea how to clean up after himself and he always hums those annoying jingles he heard on the radio or whatever. All day. I'm actually surprised I haven't gone mad many years ago.”

Or maybe he has.

With his life, who could tell?

“But he's also a badass,” Dean continues, registering the only other employee who's been lacking any customers at the moment sliding closer with clear interest in her eyes. “No one should dare to screw around with him. And the few that actually did regretted it pretty quickly.”

That's, of course, an understatement actually, but he won't go into much detail now. For those poor women's sanity.

“And he cares, so much,” Dean goes on, an affectionate smile settling on his face when his thoughts drift closer to Cas. It's an automatic response at this point and he's pretty sure it'll stay like that for the rest of his life. “Even about that stupid little fly that got lost into our room a couple of weeks ago. It feels like we spent hours catching that thing and releasing it back into the wild. But what could you have done, you know? Cas would've been miserable if that fly would've died inside and that's something nobody wants to see. Believe me. He looks like a kicked puppy when he's sad.”

The salesladies scoots even closer, captivated by Dean gushing over his boyfriend. While Sam subtly starts to step back a little and check out the rest of the display, trying to locate the wristband of their obnoxious ghost.

Dean clears his throat, despite still feeling like he's been thrown into icy water without any warning whatsoever by his traitorous brother more than determined to play this role like their lives depend on it. After all, there here and they might not get a second chance.

So Dean gives it all he's got.

“So yes, Cas, he's great,” he says. “He's been my best friend for such a long time now and I … I guess I want him at my side for the rest of my life. And even beyond that.”

Dean smiles at the image of sharing his Heaven with Cas one day. It might be a hassle to get there at first – after all, Cas' relationship with his brethren is still not the best –, but Dean has no doubt that it'll come true eventually. Cas is way too much of a stubborn son of a bitch to not see this through.

Dean blinks as he suddenly realizes that he is in fact beginning to fantasize about Cas by his side forever as a real possibility.

Huh.

“As mentioned, we have a vast collection of engagement rings to help you start this new chapter of your life,” Marlene says with a happy sigh. “We would be more than happy to help you with your endeavor.”

Dean stares at her for a moment.

Oh right. Rings. The case.

“Yes, right,” he mutters, a slight blush on his face now. “It … it needs to be perfect.”

Marlene and her colleague – Amanda, as her name tag tells him – immediately spur into action and for the next ten minutes Dean sees himself confronted with a huge variety of different rings in all shapes and forms. A few are actually quite simple and elegant – silver bands with a couple of nice highlights – and some are seriously so over-the-top pompous and big Dean has no idea how a normal human being should be able to wear that on their hand.

But he smiles at them all and fakes such exaggerated interest both Marlene and Amanda seem to believe they're in Heaven themselves.

And it seems like a freaking eternity until Sam pops up next to him again.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he jumps right into their enthusiastic conversation. “My girlfriend just texted me. Her doctor's appointment ended way earlier than expected and I need to pick her up.”

A blatant lie, of course, considering Eileen is back at the bunker with Cas, probably getting her ass beaten in every single board game invented by the best of all strategists Heaven has ever produced.

“But don't worry, Dean will be back shortly,” Sam promises right away as both Marlene and Amanda look rather crestfallen at those news. “After all, Dean can't wait to get married.”

They bid hasty goodbyes and are soon enough back on the streets again.

“So, any luck?” Dean asks when he's starting to remember the real reason why they went into the store in the first place.

“I found the wristband,” Sam admits. “But there's no suspicious energy to it. It's just jewelry.”

“Damn,” Dean sighs. “Well, it was worth a shot, at least.”

“Yeah …”

“And that was one hell of a cover story, Sammy,” Dean can't help pointing out for some reason.

Sam shoots him a quick glance, something intense flickering over his features.

“It wasn't though, right?” he asks in the end. “A cover story, I mean. Not really, at least.”

Dean frowns. On first instinct he wants to deny that, just wants to scoff at his brother's face and get on with his life, but then he thinks about Cas and how nice he would look with a ring on his finger and he finds himself lowering his gaze to cover up the flush on his cheeks.

“Uh … well, maybe it wasn't really a cover story after all,” he admits, his voice low, yet steady.

“So you want to go back?” Sam wonders, a smile on his lips. “ Look at those rings again? When this case is over and everything.”

Dean blinks. A few of those rings actually did look kind of awesome, if he's honest with himself. And sure, they're pretty expensive, but also very durable (an important feature in their line of work), and Dean surely didn't lie when he said that Cas only deserves the best.

So he finds himself muttering, “Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind going back” and feels rather good about it.

Seems like Dean seriously has an important purchase to make after all.

#destiel #spnstayathome #fanfic #fic #drabble #fluff #established relationship #fanfiction: mine

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wingtrap · 5 years ago

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Monday 4: Bet

“Bet you fifty bucks you can’t kiss Cas in front of the whole bar,” Sam says.

Dean blinks at him. They’re at the Roadhouse, celebrating Sam graduating from Stanford. He’s been keeping his relationship with Cas pretty quiet. He’s fairly sure that Sam hasn’t even met Cas yet. So he’s got no idea how Sam managed to work it out. Sure, Cas has been mentioned a lot when they’ve talked over the phone, but nothing that should have made Sam think that him and Cas were together-together, right?

“And if I don’t?” Dean challenges.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Then you can just give me fifty.”

Well, that’s boring, Dean thinks. “Fine,” he says. Fifty dollars is fifty dollars and all that.

-----------

“Hey Cass,” Sam says. “Dean managed to find you, yet?”

Cassie Robinson stares at him like she has no idea what he’s talking about. “Dean?” She asks, “Why would Dean be looking for me?”

“I bet Dean he couldn’t kiss you in front of the whole bar,” says Sam. “Jo was telling me how he’s still all cagey about the whole thing. I mean, you’ve been together for how many years, now?”

Cassie lets out a huff of laughter. “Me and Dean broke up over three years ago. He thinks he’s keeping it quiet, but everyone knows he’s with Novak.”

“Novak?”

“Sammy.”

Sam turns around to see Dean. Next to him is a rumpled man with the look of someone who looks out of place everywhere wearing a trench coat. The two stare at each other for a moment before Dean surges forward, capturing the other’s lips in a kiss. It’s got a fair bit more tongue than Sam was anticipating and after a while it becomes apparent that both are having problems pulling away. They both keep going back in to press one last chaste kiss that devolves into more clinging and trying to inhale each other.

Eventually, Dean turns to Sam. He’s out of breath, but looking entirely pleased with himself. “You owe me now,” he says. “How’d you work out that me and Cas are together?”

Sam does his best to school his face into an innocent smile.

#spnstayathome #destiel #very short and messy

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bloominghalos · 4 years ago

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The One Constant Words: 2707 Pairing: Dean/Castiel Tags: Idiots in love, canon divergent, episode elements (15x18) [Originally written for the #SpnStayAtHome challenge. Inspired by the prompts thunderstorm, hope @pray4jensen, @helianthus21, @bend-me-shape-me]

"No service," Dean says after about five minutes of holding his phone up against different windows in the cabin, more to himself than to anyone else who might be quietly listening—or judging—he just needs to confirm his earlier suspicions out loud. "Son of a bitch."

"Dean, I told—"

Dean's eyes are closed when he spins around from the window. There's a sigh caught somewhere in his throat and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Cas, I swear, if you finish that sentence..."

He's too tired for this right now. Half of him wants to sigh a 'yeah, you're right' in reply and slump down on the bed. The other half of him is still too riled up and on edge to relax even for a moment.

Castiel offers him a look of consolation, his hands elevated in small surrender where he's sat on the edge of one of the raggedy beds opposite of where Dean's lingering anxiously by the window.

Despondent, Dean throws his useless phone onto the bed next to Cas and clenches his jaw as he rummages through the last parts of his mind in search of a solution to this mess that they've managed to get themselves into. Sure, okay, bleary eyed and white-knuckled behind the wheel, a pit stop in Sioux Falls to crash at Jody's cabin for a few hours had sounded like a great idea at the time. That was, before the thunderstorm of the goddamn century rolled in and flooded the main road back to the highway and took out the electricity. The five hour—four if you step on it—ride back doesn't seem half bad right now compared to the stale, freezing cabin they're stuck in. Hindsight.

All they've got is two old kerosene lamps placed strategically in the bed- slash living-room part of the cabin that allows the space to be at least somewhat illuminated, the warm yellow light casts crescent shadows on both their faces. Dean suspects he wouldn't look much worse without it, going by how he's feeling. Crestfallen and weighted, exhaustion lurking right around the corner.

He sighs as he slumps down on the side of the bed next to Cas with a grunt, and casts a longing glance at the remote sitting on top of the old television. Besides the low rumble of the thunderstorm outside, and the pattering of rain against the window every now and then when the wind whizzes and whines, the silence grows thick between them. Dean can't remember the last time he felt so uncomfortable sitting in silence next to Cas, but maybe that's got something to do with what happened on the hunt they were trying to get back from.

As if he's reading Dean's mind—and hell, maybe he is—Cas places a hand on Dean's shoulder and urges him to meet his eyes.

"Dean."

"That's me."

Castiel pauses to roll his eyes dramatically. Not the time for jokes, notes taken . He sighs before he continues. "I want to apologize—"

"Don't." Dean looks up to meet Castiel's gaze, the warm yellow light reflected in his blues like the sun setting over the ocean. Dean reaches for the hand on his shoulder and places his own on top of Cas', letting his heavy palm cover the back of Castiel's cold, marble-like hand for a brief moment before he moves it down from his shoulder.

He doesn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it. Not now, not ever.

Still, despite Dean's effort to end the conversation before it's even started, Castiel continues.

"Dean. I need to tell you this."

Yeah, Dean knows that. He also knows that he probably needs to hear it.

continue reading on AO3

#SpnStayAtHome #helianthus21 #pray4jensen #destiel fic #destiel fanfic

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sufferingtrash · 4 years ago

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this fandom astounds me daily. The way we continuously just say fuck cannon and rewrite it to fit the cannon we like. The way this fandom inspired some of the best art and stories I’ve ever seen. Keep creating guys, this is something beautiful and no one can take that away from us.

#supernatural #castiel #destiel #superwholock #dean winchester #jensen ackles #misha collins #spnstayathome #jared padalecki

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babygirlwolverine · 5 years ago

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Shut Up and Kiss Me

My fifth entry for the DeanCas #SPNStayAtHome event hosted by @bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 @pray4jensen :)

Also posted on ao3 if anyone is interested in reading it there!

As per requested, tagging @baby-in-a-trenchcoat7 and @scamp-00, with a special shoutout to @deanscastiel79 for helping with my ramblings and supporting me!

Monday 5: Motel

Shut Up and Kiss Me

Dean paced the tiny space of the motel room, the heel of his shoe catching in the small hole in the musty, garish, worn down carpet as he made another circuit. He’d pushed the cheap wooden desk in front of the door ten minutes prior; not that that was going to stop any angels from bursting into the room, but it made him feel slightly more protected.

There was only enough room for about five paces between the end of the bed and the window. Four steps really if Dean walked with his usual gait. Cas’ angel blade, which had been left stranded on the desk, was now thrown haphazardly onto the single bed in the room.

Cas was standing in the bathroom, staring into the mirror with a glazed look in his eyes. “Does my vessel look different to you, now that my grace has been taken and I’m human?” Cas asked, finally breaking the heavy silence in the room.

“Is that really the most important question right now? Shouldn’t we be more focused on the angels and demons that have teamed up and are hell bent on killing you?” Dean shot back, breaking his pacing to look at Cas.

“I told you, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You should be with Sam.”

Dean sighed, dropping down onto the edge of the bed and running his hands through his hair. “Sam is fine tracking them down on his own. He’s got both an angel blade and a demon blade. And he’ll call if he needs backup.”

Cas stormed out of the bathroom, stopping short of Dean’s perched form at the end of the bed. “Just because I don’t have my grace doesn’t mean I’m helpless or I need you to protect me.”

“Jesus Christ, Cas. I didn’t say that.” Dean tugged at the strands of his hair, taking a deep breath before looking up at Cas. “All I’m saying is that if everyone that’s after you breaks into this room right now, it’s better if it’s two against one.”

That answer didn’t seem to appease Cas at all. Instead, the former angel growled lowly in his throat and picked up the path Dean had been pacing; casting his eyes out of the window every time he passed.

Dean reached out, picking up the angel blade and flipping it lightly back and forth between his hands. “I get it, Cas, I do.”

“No. You don’t,” Cas snapped, turning his back on Dean and marching back to the window again; huffing against the window pane and watching as it fogged up one of the squares before it receded, leaving the window smudged and dirty once more.

“Cas, just please, sit down? Pacing doesn’t work. Trust me. It did nothing to calm my nerves either,” Dean said, lowering his voice and softening his tone.

“No thanks,” Cas said curtly, continuing his pacing from the desk against the door, to the window, and past the bed.

Dean had to admit, this room was small; smaller than anything he and Sam usually camped out in. With only one bed, the tiniest desk he’d ever laid eyes on, and a bathroom so small you could simultaneously wash your hands and stand in the bath, Dean could understand why Cas felt pent up and trapped in this claustrophobic room. He wasn’t comfortable in here either. He’d have paid Sam all the money in his wallet to be holed up in Baby right now, where he felt the most secure.

Dean watched as Cas walked past again, observing the former angel’s steps as he rounded past the bed and moved back towards the window. There was something about the way Cas moved; it was different. The slightest jilt to his step. The way he was landing his footfalls more on the heel of his foot than he used to. Each movement Cas made was lacking something miniscule, like the movements weren’t quite as fluid and smooth. As if losing his grace had taken the polished surface away; every movement slower and slightly more calculated.

Realizing he’d been staring at Cas for too long, Dean shifted his gaze back to the blade in his hands, running his fingers over the tip and feeling it prick a finger, drawing blood. He raised an eyebrow, once again surprised by the power one small blade held.

Deciding this was all too much to deal with while sober, Dean dropped the blade down on the bed and started to stand up so he could steal a couple drinks from the mini fridge. He momentarily forgot all about Cas and his pacing, and that was when Cas barreled straight into him as he made his loop around the tiny room.

Dean let out startled sound, steadying himself against the edge of the bed. But without his grace, Cas wasn’t as balanced or as quick on his feet, and instead of righting himself smoothly, he stumbled over Dean, arms flailing out and landing on Dean’s shoulders as he caught himself at the last second.

The sudden movement was enough to have them pressed together, chest to chest, with Dean’s hand automatically landing on Cas’ waist to steady him. They stood for a second, staring at each other, before Dean cleared his throat, yanking his hand away and nudging Cas out of his personal space. “The hell was that? You got two left feet all of a sudden?” Dean asked, striding past Cas to the mini fridge.

“No I- I don’t have two left feet. Why would you ask that?” Cas asked, cocking his head to the side and looking at Dean in confusion.

“Jesus,” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “It’s just an expression, Cas. Meaning you’re clumsy.”

“I am not clumsy.”

“You’re definitely not as light on your feet as you used to be,” Dean pointed out, offering one of the mini bottles to Cas.

Cas frowned and shook his head, eyebrows scrunching up and eyes darting down. “That’s great. Thanks, Dean. As if I needed another reminder than I no longer have my grace. As if I wasn’t a burden before with all the mistakes I’ve made, now I’m a burden who’s been cast out of Heaven and I don’t have any grace. I’m still getting used to being human. It’s only been a few weeks. It’s different than just being an angel in a vessel. Things feel different. Movements don’t meld and flow like they used to.”

“Cas-” Dean tried to interrupt, but Cas cut him off, as if he hadn’t even heard Dean speak up.

“When we were on that hunt yesterday, the blade didn't even feel the same in my hands. The weight and the movement felt off when I pulled it out. Like I was learning how to fight with a blade all over again. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve felt like that about a blade? Millenna, Dean. Millenna.”

“Cas, just shut up a sec-”

“And the way everything feels different to the touch. It’s like I can’t feel the particles of things anymore. I can’t feel their wavelengths vibrating. It’s extremely disconcerting, learning how everything feels for the first time. And taste? What even is that? How do people even go about determining what taste is and what appeals to them. It’s all just forgein and strange.”

“You’re babbling-”

“And the functions of human bodies. Digestion and the need for bathrooms. It’s energy wasting and the feeling is not pleasant. And sleep? I have never slept a single moment in my life. Being tired is a disgusting feeling. Who wants to experience feeling the energy and life drain from their bodies and not being able to keep their eyes open? And no matter how much you sleep, you wake up feeling groggy and the tired feeling never goes away.”

Cas had started pacing again, only this time he was pacing in front of the bed; taking two steps away from Dean towards the bathroom, and then swinging right back to close those two feet between them until he was standing in front of the hunter again.

The former angel was becoming frantic, his voice pitching up an octave from the deep and calming voice Dean was used to hearing. “Cas,” Dean tried again, pushing a sense of urgency into his tone.

But Cas plowed on. “Everything feels slower, Dean. Everything. From my movements to the movement of everything around me. Like I can no longer feel time running smoothly. It’s disjointed and jarring. My grace made everything fluid and consistent. Without it, it’s like water flowing through my hands with no way to catch it. Like trying to catch the breeze without feeling it. Like trying to bottle the sunshine without ever having seen it. Like-”

Cas broke off his sentence when he circled back to Dean and Dean reached out, quick as lightning, and grabbed Cas’ tie, yanking him forward. Cas stumbled into Dean’s space, hovering over the hunter who was still perched on the edge of the bed. “Dean, I-”

Dean was watching Cas’ lips; watching the way Cas’ mouth formed his name. And he shouldn’t do it. He shouldn’t, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t… but he couldn’t stop himself. He closed the distance between them, leaning up and placing a chaste kiss to Cas’ mouth, lingering for a brief second and savoring the feel of the former angel’s lips on his own. The hunter quickly realized Cas wasn’t kissing him back. He pulled away, the hand still fisting Cas’ tie loosening until the material slipped through his fingers. Dean looked up and locked eyes with Cas.

Cas blinked once, twice, three times; cocking his head to the side as if the thoughts in his head weren’t computing. “What- what was that for?” Cas asked, his eyes flickering down to Dean’s mouth before darting back up to the hunter’s eyes.

“To shut you the hell up. You were babbling,” Dean said, a dusting of red starting to climb up his neck and across his cheeks as he broke the eye contact.

Cas paused for a second, registering Dean’s words and darting his gaze back down to Dean’s lips, as if it finally clicked into place that their mouths had just been pressed together. “What if I start rambling again?” Cas asked, his eyes glinting and a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.

Dean’s head jerked back up, his eyes scanning Cas’ face; seeing the mischief dancing across the former angel’s face. Reaching out, Dean grabbed Cas’ tie again, pulling him back into his personal space. “Then I’ll just have to do this,” Dean said, voice dropping down to a husky whisper.

This time, Dean pulled Cas in slowly, dragging the moment out in a mixture of teasing and gentleness; giving Cas a moment to register so he could pull away. But Cas leaned into Dean’s touch, and then they were kissing again. This time it was soft and gentle and sweet. Dean pressed their lips together, tilting his head slightly so their mouths slotted together perfectly. With his grip on Cas’ tie, he pulled Cas a little bit closer, reaching up and sliding his other hand around Cas’ neck.

Parting his lips, Dean softly swiped his tongue over Cas’ lower lip, relishing in the way Cas shivered and opened his mouth to Dean’s touch. Dean moved slowly, letting his tongue just barely caress Cas’ tongue before he pulled away. He nudged their noses together and then leaned back in to press a quick peck to Cas’ lips, before leaning back far enough so he could look at Cas.

Dean smiled at the awe-struck look at Cas’ face, as if all the tension had melted from the former angel’s body. “You alright there?” Dean asked softly, bumping their noses together again.

“I-I never expected kissing to feel like that,” Cas said, leaning more into Dean’s space until Dean wrapped an arm around his waist. “More… more sensations than I have ever felt before.”

Dean grinned lazily, tipping his head until their foreheads were resting together. “One of the many perks of being a human.”

Cas pulled away slightly, his gaze darting across Dean’s face and down to where their bodies were pressed together. Cas’ knees were pressing into the mattress, and Dean sat on the bed, leaning back slightly and pulling Cas’ weight with him to make up for the height difference. He flickered his eyes back up to Dean’s face, staring at the red tinge and wet trace of Dean’s mouth. “I like the way you taste,” Cas said, eyes never leaving Dean’s lips; as if he was mesmerized by the way Dean’s tongue darted out across his lower lip in a quick flash.

Dean laughed, a broad smile lighting up his face. “Why don’t you come here and I’ll give you another taste,” Dean teased, words coming out in a drawl.

Cas shuddered again; Dean’s words washing over him and sending sparks through his body. His cheeks suddenly felt hot, another sensation he’d never felt before, and he found himself nodding. Cas was the one leaning in this time, pressing his weight into Dean as he chased Dean’s mouth.

And then they were kissing again, one of Cas’ hands pressing into the mattress to support his weight and the other tangling in Dean’s hair. Dean’s arms locked around his waist, pulling Cas in until they were flush against each other.

Dean once again kept the kisses soft and slow, letting their mouths come together, catching Cas’ lower lip between his own. He pressed their lips together tenderly for a brief few seconds before he started to pull away. Cas made a desperate whine in the back of his throat and Dean chuckled. He shifted an arm off of Cas’ wasit and placed his thumb on Cas’ chin, tilting his head the other way before leaning back in to kiss Cas again.

Cas hummed happily at the new angle. He opened his mouth just a little, darting his tongue out to press against Dean’s lower lip. Dean sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, parting his own lips in invitation. Cas took the hint, sliding his tongue into Dean’s mouth and letting their tongues brush together softly.

A quiet moan filled the air between them, and Dean wasn’t sure if it was him or Cas making the noise, but he didn’t care. Cas’ tongue rubbed against his, tender and slow, before he was exploring Dean’s mouth; across his teeth and over the roof of his mouth.

Cas pulled back after a few delicious moments, both of them panting into the marginal space between them. “Cas,” Dean murmured, voice strained, and that was all it took for Cas to lean in and kiss Dean again.

Dean used the one arm still around Cas’ waist to hoist the former angel closer until Cas was crawling up the mattress, straddling Dean’s waist. Kisses melded together, lips breaking apart only for Dean to tilt Cas’ head and dive back in for more; their mouths seeking each other’s until they were sealed together again.

Cas was a fast learner. One moment Dean was licking his way into Cas’ mouth with teasing touches and soft groans, and then next he was pulling back slightly, only for Cas’ tongue to meet his in the middle on the next kiss. And then Cas was delving in, savoring the taste of Dean’s mouth as he explored every crevice.

Dean broke the deep kisses, leaning back slightly out of Cas’ reach and pressing soft and chaste pecks to Cas’ mouth; their mouths sliding together for a brief moment before Dean pulled away, and then leaned back in a second later to do it all over again. It was maddening and teasing, and yet soft and sweet.

It was Cas who broke the kissing spell, breaking the current kiss to tip his head forward, sucking in deep breaths of air with his nose pressed against Dean’s cheek. “Does it always feel like this?” Cas asked, words ghosting over Dean’s skin.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head minutely so he didn’t jostle Cas. “No, it doesn’t.”

Cas pulled back slightly, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at Dean questioningly.

“I can’t remember the last time I just lay back and kissed someone like this. And I sure as hell can’t remember the last time I wanted to kiss someone this much, or enjoyed it like this, for that matter.”

Cas beamed. He leaned back in, ghosting his lips over Dean’s again, hovering just out of reach. “I think I quite like it. Kissing you, I mean. I might want to do more of this.”

“Less talking, more kissing, Cas,” Dean muttered, leaning up slightly to close the distance, catching Cas’ mouth in another chaste kiss. Cas was the one to deepen the kisses, tongue pressing insistently at Dean’s lower lip until the hunter opened his mouth and let Cas’ in. Dean groaned softly into Cas’ mouth as he rubbed their tongues together, pulling back slightly and nipping at Dean’s lip before deepening the kiss again.

Time slipped by, their mouths slotted together in kiss after kiss, until the blaring of Dean’s phone broke them apart. “‘S probably Sammy,” Dean said, pecking Cas’ lips between each word.

“He’ll call back if it’s important, right?” Cas asked, pressing his lips to the corner of Dean’s mouth.

“Mhm,” Dean hummed, tilting his head to the side until Cas was kissing him properly. The phone stopped ringing. A few seconds later it started ringing again. Dean grumbled lowly, tearing his mouth away from Cas’. “Gotta answer that, Cas. Could be serious.”

Cas groaned low in his throat, tangling his fingers into the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck, licking across his lower lip and pressing another lingering kiss to his mouth before he pulled away.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a sharp breath before pushing himself off the bed and picking up the phone. “Heya Sammy. Yeah? You’re sure? That’s great, man. Awesome. Yeah, just come pick us up. Nah, all good here. Nothing to report. Alright, yeah, see you soon.” Dean hung up and rubbed a hand down his face.

“No more angels or demons on our tail?” Cas asked from the edge of the bed.

“Nope. Sam took them all down. For now, no one’s trying to kill you. We should- um,” Dean coughed, motioning to the desk pressed against the door.

“Dean?”

Dean snapped his eyes over to Cas and froze. Cas’ lips were red and swollen, spit-slick and shining in the dull light of the motel. It sent a surge of lust down Dean’s spine. He licked his own lips, and Cas made a choked off sound in the back of his throat. Suddenly stalking over, Dean closed the few feet of space in between them and grabbed hold of Cas’ tie, dragging him up and closer. They both leaned in together, lips crashing together as they kissed; hot and wet and delicious.

When they broke apart they were both gasping for air. Dean nudged their noses together again, ghosting his lips over Cas’ before pulling away. “The answer is no, by the way.”

Cas frowned, pulling away slightly. “No to what?” he asked carefully.

“Your question earlier. You don’t look any different to me now that you’re human. Well, maybe a little.”

“I don’t understand,” Cas said, cocking his head to the side.

“You look like you’re mine now,” Dean said with a smirk on his kiss-swollen lips.

Cas huffed softly. “Has that line ever worked for you?”

“Depends. How much do you like the way I taste?” Dean teased, rubbing his nose along Cas’ cheek.

“A lot,” Cas replied, chasing Dean’s mouth into another kiss.

It wasn’t until they heard the rumble of the Impala pulling up outside did they break apart; panting wetly. Dean ran his hands through his hair and rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, trying to wipe away the traces of just how much he and Cas had made out.

When they pushed the desk aside and met Sam outside, Sam raised an eyebrow, taking in first his brother’s appearance, and then Cas’.

“Not a word, Sam. Not a word,” Dean said when he saw the look in Sam’s eyes and the grin on his brother’s face. He motioned for the keys, rolling his eyes at the puckered lips and kissing noises Sam made as he tossed the keys. “Get in the car and shut up.”

Sam laughed, saying something like, “Finally. It was about damn time,” as he climbed into the passenger seat.

Dean rolled his eyes again, but he caught Cas’ gaze as the former angel opened the back door right behind Dean’s seat. Their eyes locked, and Cas beamed, his gaze falling to Dean’s mouth before flickering back up to his eyes.

Dean swallowed thickly, his own eyes darting down to Cas’ lips. Yep, he was so totally whipped it wasn’t even funny.

“Enough with the eye sex already. Can we go get something to eat now? I’m starving,” Sam yelled from inside the car.

Dean nodded, flashing a smile and a wink at Cas before he slipped into the car, hearing Cas climb into the backseat. Driving off to the nearest diner, Dean’s mind drifted off to the possibility of the next time he and Cas could share a motel room together.

#SPNStayAtHome #destiel #deancas #casdean #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #writing #ficlet #oneshot #light angst #fluff #bex writing

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blessyourhondahurley · 5 years ago

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Motel

The Ritz-Carlton it ain't.

Dean's been managing the Hide-A-Way Motor Inn for close to 7 years now. The owner, Marv, is a shabby little guy, with grubby clothes and greasy hair. It's clear that he decided to let himself go a long time ago, and then did the same with his motel. Every shift, Dean does what he can to patch up the wear and prop up the sag, but it's a never-ending tug of war against the forces of entropy and long-term neglect.

Despite the state of the place, they do a steady business, thanks to their plum location (strategically near-but-not-too-near the interstate, the downtown, and the outlets). All sorts of people pass through -- honeymoon couples, businessman types, undercover lovers, harried vacation families, you name it. Rarely does a guest stay more than a night or two, though. A couple consecutive sleeps on one of Marv's civil-war-era mattresses tends to light a fire under sensible people's asses. All of a sudden, the Radisson on the other side of town starts looking a lot more affordable than it did on Expedia.com.

As the manager, Dean considers it his right to work mostly day shifts, reasonable hours. He lets the part-timers cover the early-early mornings and the graveyard slots. But Becky's out of town this week for Comic-Con and Garth's twins have the croup, so Dean's covering the desk, bored out of his ass, the night the handsome stranger ambles in around midnight.

Okay, calling this guy a "handsome stranger" makes it sound like Dean's in one of those cheesy romance novels that Becky reads when she's supposed to be working (and which Dean absolutely does not borrow from her on the reg). But there is no question that the man is stop-drop-and-roll gorgeous, a grade A+++ hottie, with dark messy hair and brilliant blue eyes. His face is kind, with deeply-etched laugh lines and a gummy smile, and his voice is distilled sex, on the rocks.

Anyway, he doesn't stay a stranger for long. He introduces himself with a warm handshake as Castiel Novak, and asks for a room for "at least a week, maybe more, I'll let you know." He returns to the office a few minutes later, asking who he should talk to about getting some extra towels.

"I'm your man," Dean replies, already turning towards the linen cabinet behind him.

This becomes a pattern, a rhythm between them, as Cas stays the week, and extends his stay, and extends it again and again.

"How would I go about putting in a maintenance request on the leaky faucet in my bathroom?"

"I'm your man." Dean hefts his toolbox and trails Cas back towards his room.

"Do you know of any good places to eat in town? I'm dying for a burger."

"I'm your man." He flips the VACANCY sign to NO and locks the office door behind them. It's a slow Tuesday night, and Dean's pretty hungry himself.

Their relationship grows, slow and steady. Soon Cas is hanging out with him every shift, laptop in tow while he puts in his hours at his mysterious (utterly flexible and totally portable) tech job. They're getting dinner together almost every night after Dean clocks out. There have been flirty text conversations, and a few really good kisses. Dean feels himself falling, hard, but the ground under his feet is unsteady. Cas extends his stay week by week by week, but there's no discussion of a future, of whether they're building something here that can last.

Dean's shuffling receipts behind the desk one afternoon, trying to make sense of Marv's latest half-assed attempt at bookkeeping, when Cas closes his laptop with a click and clears his throat.

"I like it here," he states.

Dean raises his eyebrows, glances around pointedly at the faded paneling of the office. "Why?" he asks with a twist of his lips.

Cas rolls his eyes. "Not here, here. Nobody likes it here. I like this area, though. I like... The people." He looks down at his lap, hesitant. Dean sits up, realizing only now that they're having a Serious Conversation. Cas continues. "I was thinking of finding a place to stay around here, something permanent." His eyes catch Dean's and hold. "Who would you suggest I talk to about something permanent?"

Dean flushes, grins. "I'm your man," he says, moving around the counter to take his boyfriend in his arms. Tags for the SpnStayAtHome challenge below the cut:

@helianthus21 @bend-me-shape-me @pray4jensen

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel au #destiel fluff #SpnStayAtHome

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helianthus21 · 5 years ago

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Monday 6: Jealous

[doing this] ~1,2k

The rationale so far is this:

Dean’s used to having pretty girls admire him, girls they save from what goes bump in the night. He’s a hero in their eyes, one that saved their lives and, judged by Dean’s considerable experience, that’s easily one one the best turn-ons. It scored him a fun night in the sheets on more than a few occasions and with the lifestyle he’s leading he seizes every such opportunity when it’s offered to him. He’s not gonna say no to a good thing among all the shit life throws at him after all, and he’s proud to say it happens more to him than to Sam because everyone agrees he’s the more handsome brother of the two.

That, and only that is the reason why he’s so grouchy at the way the current damsel of the week is throwing herself at Cas of all people.

There’s just something wrong in the way Chiyo grabs Cas’ hand under the pretense of looking for comfort and reassurance that the monster really can’t harm her anymore which Cas readily gives. Because he doesn’t know what it means when she bats her eyelashes at Cas, the White Knight of her very own rom-com and asks him to walk her home “just in case”.

“Just in case” what exactly, Dean thinks and rolls his eyes at her audacity. The ghoul’s fucking dead as a doornail, can’t get any deader, get a grip, girl.

And maybe he’s being a little unfair to her but that’s just ‘coz his pride’s a little hurt ‘coz this woman’s got no friggin’ taste.

The strange tightness in Dean’s stomach gets worse when Chiyo pretends to stumble over her own feet so Cas can catch her in his strong arms and Chiyo can admire just how strong they are with her own hands. She actually tightens her grip around Cas’ biceps to get a good feeling.

Dean grits his teeth in a fit of inexplicable rage. He feels irritated on behalf of his friend, of course. Poor dude has no idea he’s being flirted with. That lady’s taking advantage of a clueless angel, basically!

Next to him, Sam bumps him with an elbow, grinning. “Hey, if they became a thing, their ship name could be ‘Chica’.”

“Shut up, Sam!” Dean bites back.

Taken aback, Sam holds up a hand. “Touchy, touchy,” he says. “What got your panties in a twist?”

“Maybe I just got enough of your ugly mug.”

“Okay,” Sam says, not at all put out by Dean’s testy comment, seeming more amused instead. “So which one of ‘em are you jealous of?”

Feeling like he needs to block an attack without a clue as to how, Dean whips around. “What?”

But Sam just brushes past him, following Cas and Chiyo at a respectable distance. “Oh, nothing.”

Before the next intersection, they’ve reached Chiyo’s apartment. “That’s it,” she announces, playing with her keys and flashing nervous glances the brothers’ way. “I live on the third floor.”

Okay, Dean thinks. So this is goodbye. Finally.

But Chiyo has other ideas. “Do you want to maybe… come upstairs with me? I have coffee,” she suggest hopefully, looking at Cas and only Cas and wow rude, Dean thinks. What are Sam and him, chopped liver?

He opens his mouth to say exactly that but Sam puts a hand on his shoulder, swivels him around with force. “We better go, give them some alone time,” he whispers significantly before raising his voice so Cas and Chiyo can hear. “We’re hitting the road, bye Chiyo. Seeya later, Cas.”

And before Dean can gather his wits enough to react, Sam’s urging him further along the road towards where they parked Baby.

Each step away from them feels like a stab through the heart, and Dean should know what that feels like.

“Hey, I know I gave you shit about this earlier, but if you wanna talk,” Sam says softly. “You know…”

Dean doesn’t look up from the road. He doesn’t know if he could cover up the frown on his face with a suitable mask right now. Truth is, his denial techniques only reach so far. Deep down, he’s knows his feelings for Cas span farther than the Milky Way and are more complex than some part of him wishes they were.

Because it’s hard, being who he is and loving someone like Castiel.

Castiel, who seems so close yet so out of reach sometimes.

It seemed so easy for Chiyo, to pull Cas into her orbit. Maybe someone like her is just what Cas needs. Someone far away from the hunting life, someone less complicated. Someone who doesn’t trip over his own feet as much when it comes to talking feelings.

Maybe she could be good for Cas.

He won’t pretend to like it, though.

So he takes up Sam’s offer, the only way he knows how. “‘I got coffee upstairs’,” he scoffs. “How cheap was that?”

“Very cheap,” agrees Sam benevolently. “Apple pie?”

Dean sniffs. “Biggest we can find.”

***

Cas flaps into their motel room not longer than half an hour later. After Sam and Dean drove by a bakery to buy the biggest apple pie they have, Sam’s gone out to commune with nature or whatever he’s doing when he wants to give Dean some space. So it’s just Dean here to greet the angel, hunched over the sink to eat his piece of pie without dropping crumbs all over.

“She did not have coffee,” Cas reports, skipping the hello.

“Huh,” is all Dean can get out, fork freezing halfway to his mouth.

Cas steps further into the motel room. “Apparently that was a ploy to get me into her apartment.”

“Oh?”

“She kissed me.”

Dean says nothing. He wouldn’t know what without sounding like an asshole. His throat’s suddenly tight and his eyes sting annoyingly.

“I told her, very politely, that I was not interested,” says Cas.

Dean drops his fork into the sink. “Why?”

"I don't…," Cas starts. "I wasn't interested."

"You said that," Dean says dryly. "Why not? She's pretty, seemed sharp and funny too and she was obviously into you." He doesn't know why he argues the point when every word is like a nail in his own coffin.

But Cas shakes his head, a little sadly. "It wouldn't be honest."

Dean chews his lower lip, mind racing. "You have pretty high standards, huh."

"The highest," Cas squints at him. "He'd have to be quite a Righteous Man, in fact."

Dean breathes in.

And he breathes out.

"Well, shit, Cas."

Cas' gaze drops to the floor. "It is quite unfortunate a situation…"

"Unfortunate how?"

"Because he doesn't-"

"...Admit he loves you back."

Cas frowns because that clearly wasn’t what he was gonna say but it’s quickly chased away by the small smile that replaces his confusion. "Apparently," he says softly, still a little uncertain.

"Well, he's an idiot, Cas."

"It's a very endearing part of his personality. If trying, at times."

Dean shrugs, a grin of his own fighting for control of his features. "As long as you're into it."

And then he does the bravest thing he ever did.

He pulls Cas into their very first kiss.

It tastes faintly like apple pie.

#SPNStayAtHome #monday 6: jealous #ficlet #spn #destiel #jealous!dean #heli tries to write #deanial #but he fools no one not even himself #i got impatient in the end sorry it's not the best

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caslikescoffeeandfreckles · 5 years ago

Text

#SpnStayHome 04/13 prompt: Gentleman

@bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 @pray4jensen pls except my late trash i’m sorry

now available on A03

Dean hears the front door slam again and sighs, body moving out into the living room before he can even think about it.

There he finds Castiel slumped against the door, fists clenched but face deprived of any little fight he had left.

“Didn’t go well, I take it?” Dean asks grimly.

Cas doesn’t even open his eyes.

Dean edges toward the couch, letting Cas have his space and choice to talk. “I’m sorry, man.”

It takes a while, but Dean waits, knees pulled to his chest, toes wiggling in his socks with the urge to run over and hug Cas close, stroke his hair, kiss his lips. Tell him that Dean is here for him, in any way Cas will have him.

Which is exactly why he stays put.

“It’s like I’m cursed,” Cas finally whispers. When Dean looks up, Cas’s eyes are finally open and the disappointment is dark blue and heavy.

“It’s not you, Cas,” Dean tells him for the thousandth time. “You just... keep dating jerks.”

Cas laughs but there’s no humor. “Pretty sure that still makes me the problem. I just... I’m so tired of trying.”

Dean would like to tell him that he doesn’t have to try. But that would be unwelcome and not to mention completely inappropriate given the situation.

It’s not that Dean has necessarily tried to hide his feelings for Cas over the years. In fact, he’s been more obvious about his crush on his roommate than he’s ever been with any former partners. Maybe he hasn’t said it in so many words but... actions speak louder right?

Which left Dean with just two possibilities: either Cas was an oblivious idiot or not interested.

And Cas is anything but an idiot.

The quiet rejection hurt more than Dean would ever let on. But Cas never allowed it to affect their friendship, never indicated that he was uncomfortable with Dean’s gestures. Dean still tried to dial it back and challenged himself to be the best friend Cas deserved even if that meant listening to him chatter about the guys he was talking to and picking up the pieces after the guys blew everything apart.

“Or maybe this is what I deserve...”

Dean’s head whips up when Cas speaks again, mostly to himself. “What?”

Cas shrugs. “I don’t know, I just... I’m starting to think maybe this is what dating is like. Maybe I have just have too high standards or I’m being unrealistic.”

Dean shakes his head as Cas talks but Cas isn’t looking, into act he’s already peeling himself off the door and heading to his room, head still bowed and shoulders down.

He looks so sad and defeated and Dean wants to argue but bites his tongue.

He hears Cas’s door click shut and closes his own eyes.

In no world should someone as amazing as Cas leave a bad date feeling that it’s what he deserves...

Cas has to know that. He deserves the best partner, the best dates, the best kind of love story.

And maybe Dean isn’t the one he wants that love story with. But Dean can at least open the book for him.

The next Saturday, Dean makes up an excuse for a celebratory dinner and tells Cas to get cleaned up.

He leads Cas to the impala, hustling to open the door for him which Cas raises an eyebrow at. Dean just smiles and carefully shuts the door once Cas is safely inside.

“Pick something,” he says, gesturing to the radio.

“You’re letting me pick the music?” Cas asks and the incredulity is not lost.

“I’m feeling generous.”

“But what happened to driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole?” His voice changes as he quotes Dean to himself and laughs.

Dean bites a grin and keeps both hands on the wheel. “Just pick something good before I change my mind.”

The restaurant isn’t a super fancy place but it’s a grade above the kind of dives Dean usually patrons. He hadn’t wanted something so fancy that he and Cas felt uncomfortable, but also not a place where a brawl was likely to break out at any moment.

He isn’t able to get out before Cas opens his own door but he does manage to hold the restaurant door for him and even allows a brief touch to Cas’s lower back as he passes. Cas doesn’t flinch or frown or look at him weird. In fact, he may not have noticed at all.

They get an intimate little table by the windows and Dean holds Cas’s chair out for him.

Cas does frown now, looking at Dean like he’s lost his mind or grown a second a head. “What are you doing?”

“Holding out your chair for you,” Dean responds like it’s normal.

Hesitantly, Cas steps closer and lowers himself into the seat as Dean pushes him in. “What a gentleman,” Dean hears him rumble, a soft tone of amusement in his voice.

Dean can’t help a grin as he claims the seat opposite of Cas and shrugs. “Mary Winchester wouldn’t have raised anything less.”

A knowing grin steals across Cas’s lips. “No, she wouldn’t.”

They have an excellent dinner. Cas picks something from the wine list and Dean goes with it, not understanding any of the words Cas uses to describe the flavor but enjoying it all the same. Their food is delicious and even though Dean could happily wolf down every bite, he offers some to Cas, raising his fork to Cas’s lips and stomach stirring with wild butterflies when Cas opens his mouth to accept. Cas looks a little red for a few minutes after that, which pleases Dean to his toes.

“Don’t forget your leave room for dessert,” Dean says when Cas leans back against his chair.

“Dessert?” Cas repeats. “What was it we’re celebrating, again?”

Dean shrugs. “Doesn’t really matter why. Just matters that we’re together, right?”

When Cas doesn’t respond right away, Dean feels hot fear rush through him. Maybe he went a little too far, veering into romantic side of things. Sure, he wants to show Cas what a good date can be like, what it’s like to be properly wooed and romanced. But that doesn’t change the fact that Cas only wants him as a friend.

“Right,” Cas says at long last, his voice soft and quiet again. “Together.”

They order their dessert and once again Dean finds himself spoon feeding Cas a taste of his chocolate pie. But this time, there are no nervous butterflies. This time, it’s all heat. A searing, thick heat that fills his lower half and runs down his skin, tight, as Cas’s eyes seem to glaze over with something Dean’s never seen before, something desperate and primal and eager as his pink lips separate and Dean catches just the faintest glimpse of his tongue before he licks the treat into his mouth.

Dean’s pretty sure he’s the one sitting there like a bright red tomato after that.

When all is finished and the dishes are clear, the waiter leaves a single bill on the table.

“Oh, we’ll need two checks,” Cas starts.

But Dean is already sliding his card into the folder. “This is fine,” he says and hands it back to the waiter.

The admonishment is loud and clear and Cas says Dean’s name. “You’re the one we’re supposed to be celebrating tonight. If anyone should be paying, its me.”

“Maybe next time,” Dean promises and prays there will be a next time. If not here, then in the next life or in some alternate universe where Cas feels the same and goes on real dates with Dean where they can share bites of food without feeling nervous and bicker over the bill knowing it doesn’t matter.

Cas leans back, eyes scanning Dean suspiciously before he grins. “I feel like we’re on a date almost,” he says and laughs. Like it’s the craziest idea in the world. Impossible.

The laugh hurts but Dean swallows it down and smiles. “It can be whatever you want it to be.”

Cas’s smile vanishes and Dean could slap himself. Definitely too far.

Luckily, the waiter returns then. Dean busies himself signing the receipt and leaving a generous tip.

“Have a lovely evening, gentlemen,” their waiter says. “We hope to see you again.”

Dean doesn’t let his nerves ruin his plan as he and Cas stand and he gestures for Cas to walk ahead. He still holds the door for Cas and opens the car door for him, all the while ignoring the strange look on Cas’s face.

Cas doesn’t bother with music on the drive home and Dean is too scared to let his hands stray from the wheel.

He crossed a line somewhere, he knows — can sense it. Maybe this idea hadn’t been the best or the most mature. He’d just wanted to show Cas what he was deserving of, how he should expect to be treated when he granted someone his time and attention.

The idea of Cas settling for less or internalizing all of his romantic mishaps as his fault is just not acceptable in Dean’s book. The man sitting next to him is the closest thing to perfection Dean has ever known and deserves nothing bht the best, better than everyone. Better than Dean.

When they arrive home, Cas still isn’t speaking but he also doesn’t move to get out. Dean wants to ask if he’s okay, if Dean did something wrong. But truthfully, he’s too scared to know the answer.

So he gets out and goes to open Cas’s door. Cas still takes a moment before he gets out and he doesn’t look at Dean.

They walk up to their apartment in silence and Dean unlocks the door with shaking fingers.

Cas still isn’t speaking and Dean is feeling sicker and sicker by the second. It’s time to end this and pretend this night never happened.

So with a dramatic yawn, Dean starts tugging off his suit jacket and makes a beeline for his room. “Well, good night, Cas,” he says over his shoulder, too afraid to look back. “Thanks for coming with me. I’ll talk to you-”

“Dean,” Cas interrupts.

Dean freezes, turning around but not looking directly at Cas. “Uh, yeah?”

He can’t see the expression on Cas’s face, can only see the shadow of his hand moving against his thigh as he nervously grapples with the material. Dean definitely fucked this up.

“Was tonight... a date?”

Dean doesn’t like lying to Cas and normally an opening like this is what he dreams of. But after the way Cas has been acting since he joked about it only feeling like a date, Dean almost can’t find the courage to take it. Almost because, even though he’s terrified, there’s still that little bit of logic left that says at least if he’s honest now and gets the answer he anticipates he’ll finally be free to move on.

And maybe that’s what Cas truly needs. Not some desperate idiot trying to show him a good time, but a true friend with no ulterior motives.

“Uh, I mean, kind of,” Dean says at last. “But, like, it doesn’t have to be. I’m sorry if I made things weird. I wasn’t trying to. I just...” He tries to think of the best way to explain himself but there��s really now way to spin it where he doesn’t look like a pathetic creep. “Look, I’m sorry, Cas. I wasn’t trying to trick you or make your uncomfortable or anything. I just wanted to show you a good time after what happened last weekend.”

“By taking me on a date without telling me?”

Dean winces, because damn. This is a lot worse than he thought. “Yeah, I realize how fucked up that was now. I guess when you said that you deserved all that bad stuff that kept happening to you, I wanted to prove you wrong?” There’s a hurricane of nerves tearing through Dean’s body and he really can’t tell if he’s going to be sick or have a heart attack. “But tricking you into a date was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Dean has the decency to at least look Cas in the eyes when he apologizes and he’s a little shocked to not find disgust or burning hatred in his best friend’s eyes. In fact, if Dean didn’t know any better he’d say Cas looks confused and maybe... nervous? Of what, Dean can’t imagine.

“Why...” Cas begins, slow and soft. “Why did you think you had to trick me into a date?”

Dean’s face pinches, remembering all the rejections at once. “Because you’ve never said yes before?”

Cas’s eyes widen. “To a date?”

Dean just nods.

“But when did you ask me out?”

A slimy sort of feeling settles in Dean’s gut, feeling suspiciously like doubt. But... that can’t be right. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me...”

“Messing with you?” Cas echoes. Before Dean can even turn around, there’s a hand gripping his wrist and holding him in place. Cas’s eyes have bloomed into something wild and desperate, like the look he had when Dean was feeding him at dinner. “Dean, I feel like we’re not having the same conversation here. You’ve never asked me out because that is certainly not something I would forget and there is no chance in hell I would have said no once let alone multiple times.”

Dean stares, trying to understand if Cas is lying or if Dean has really been that big of an idiot this entire time. “I used to ask you out all the time!” he finally shouts. “I-I-I asked you out to dinner like a month after we moved in together. I asked you out to see that band you like when they were in town! I tried to take you bowling! I invite you to the movies all the time but you always say no! I even tried to kiss you at that Halloween party last fall and you almost pushed me off the couch!” That was when Dean had finally given up. Message received loud and clear.

Realization brightens Cas’s eyes before the shock sets in. “I thought you were just drunk!” Cas exclaims. “And I didn’t want to kiss you while you were intoxicated. Wait, you mean you bought those concert tickets as a date?” Something close to horror crosses Cas’s face. “Oh god, and I took-”

“Balthazar,” Dean mumbles. “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, Dean,” Cas says and there’s a regret in his voice that Dean has never heard before. “I had no idea.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. Cas looks like he’s just had a life-changing revelation and Dean feels like he’s treading muddy water, an ocean of bad memories and self-deprecating thoughts without even a light to guide him.

Because Cas is saying that he never knew. That all those times Dean thought he was being obvious and brave, Cas was completely clueless. That Cas hasn’t been rejecting Dean all this time. He never knew Dean was interested. And it kind of sounds like... Cas has been interested.

“Dean?” Fingers snap in his face and Dean blinks back to reality to find Cas staring at him, eyes a little less wild and more worried. They soften when Dean focuses. “You’re thinking too hard,” Cas says.

“I’m confused,” Dean admits slowly.

He doesn’t recognize the face Cas is making now but it makes him feel hot and like he wants to jump out of his skin but also freeze this moment in time forever so he never has to see anything else ever again. It makes him feel like he’s choking but also breathing properly for the first time in his life. Like they’re the only two left in the entire universe but also like they are the universe at the same time? So unthinkably big but small, everything and nothing. Loved. So incredibly, poetically loved.

“I think I can get you caught up,” Cas whispers.

Before Dean can think, he feels soft lips press into his.

There are no fireworks because those would have been loud and distracting for a moment as precious as this. It’s a quiet, private sort of explosion between them, a galaxy being born and filling with more and more stars with every passing second.

Dean doesn’t no how long they stay suspended in space, doesn’t really care. He knows that when they separate, he feels different. Like a different person. Like his body isn’t fully his own anymore. And he loves it.

“I could do that forever,” Cas breathes against his lips because he didn’t go far. Hopefully never will.

“Me too.”

He feels Cas smile and he tingles with it.

“Then I think we should go to bed,” Cas says, then pauses, eyes frowning. “Wait. Are we going too fast?”

Dean can’t help but laugh. “Well I don’t know what you were expecting but, for the record, I don’t put out on the first date. I’m a gentleman, remember?”

Cas’s laugh is warm air against Dean’s chin. He doesn’t respond and the silence is not awkward or anxious. It feels just as precious as their first kiss, in fact, just as right and comfortable. There’s a permission in that moment, to study one another and to learn through touch and taste.

Dean longs to kiss Cas’s jaw and so he does. Keeps kissing until he reaches Cas’s ear and nibbles on the lobe. Feels the way Cas shivers against him and knows he’ll never be able to deny Cas a thing.

He whispers, “But for you I’ll make an exception.”

He thinks Cas will always be the exception. And he knows somehow, without being told, that he’ll always be Cas’s.

#spnstayathome #destiel #drabble #au #roommates au #friends to lovers #first kiss #pining!dean #mutual pining #misunderstanding #first date

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soleeryx · 5 years ago

Photo

monday 2: gentleman dean grabbed cas like husband in season 12 😏

doing this thing

#supernatural #SpnStayAtHome #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #my art #love that scene #and yeeeeeeees they're husbands #its 12.10

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all-or-nothing-baby · 4 years ago

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Undercover Lover

Sent to the goddamn Bronx. An intelligence assignment on a cop-killer, they said. Bureau suspected notorious street car gang, The Demons—and Los Angeles Agent Novak had been placed deep undercover to find if there was any truth to the notion.

Civilian clothing and an eight o'clock shadow later, it was time.

He drove up 79th in the pound acquired '57 Chevy, slowing and pulling in near the greased up boys loitering outside Singers Mechanics.

Then, Novak saw him.

He'd known this gig would be trouble. And it was, he found soon after. Big trouble, spelled:

1950s FBI Agent Castiel Novak and Teddy Badboy without a cause Dean Winchester AU, anyone? Written and arted for @helianthus21 @bend-me-shape-me and @pray4jensen's SPNSTAYATHOME challenge; Monday 9: UNDERCOVER

CLICK HERE TO NOW SEE BOTH DEAN AND CAS 50′s AU ARTWORK...

tags under the cut; please tell me if you’d like adding/removing:

rad tag bunch: @petrichoravellichor @rauko-is-a-free-elf @aloha-cowgirl @suckerfordeansfreckles @jupiterjames @verobatto-angelxhunter @winchester-reload @wanderingcas @crack--attack @dammitsammy @ladystiltskin67 @cutelittlekittykorner @trenchcoatsandfreckles @shealynn88 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @hectatess @notwithd @peanutbutterandgrapejelly @legendary-destiel @ladywaywarddsc @ladygotsoul @avidbkwrm @superwholockandbooks-art @apieceofurmind @staycejo1 @mishezza @katekarnage7 @cloverhighfive @sillyyjackie @hellfire37 @pimentogirl @reallyelegantsharkfish @lemonsorbae @galaxy-charm @impulsivedandelion @michyribeiro @enchantedxpersona @stay-inside-the-salt-ring @proccastinate @shikaros-blog

#spnstayathome #monday 9: undercover #destiel #destiel art #deancas #deancas art #destiel au #50s au #agent!cas #badboy!dean #yes please #lucy's artwork #all-or-nothing-arts #all-or-nothing-baby

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rauko-creates · 5 years ago

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Feathers

For the SPN Stay At Home challenge :) ( @bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 @pray4jensen) Prompt: 6/4 Monday 1. Feather. Words: 2324 Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Teen Tags: canon!verse, wing fic, wing grooming Summary: Cas has his wings back, but they’re stuck in this plane…and they’re getting feathers everywhere.

~~~

“Dude…really?”

Castiel turned to see Dean bending to pick up a long black feather.

“I guess this is gonna be a thing now, huh?” Dean held up the feather, his face held an expression somewhere between annoyed and amused. “This is the fifth one I’ve picked up today.”

Castiel had his wings back, but - for some reason - they were now stuck in this physical plane. Castiel snatched the feather from Dean. “You know I can’t help it,” he mumbled as he walked away.

Castiel tried to pick them up when he saw them; but somehow, Dean always seemed to find them first. You would think that Dean was following him around waiting for them to fall out with as often as he was cleaning them up. Dean was very particular about the bunker; perhaps he was watching Cas like a hawk to make sure he didn’t litter the place. Whatever the case, nearly every time Castiel saw Dean these last few weeks, he seemed to have a feather in his hand.

It was Tuesday, which meant it was movie night.

Castiel settled into the couch. Well, he tried anyway. He wasn’t really used to having to work around his wings this way, It seemed - no matter how he sat - they were in the way. He heard Dean huff.

“Here,” he said gruffly, moving to one end of the couch and tossing a throw pillow at the other end. “Just lie down on your stomach and stretch them out, huh.”

Castiel frowned. “My legs will be on you.”

“I’ll manage.” He looked back at the tv. “Now lie down and stop fidgeting. You’re making me uncomfortable just watching you.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but stretching out did sound nice, so he rolled over. He wrapped his arms around the pillow and draped one wing over the back of the couch and stretched the other out onto the floor in front of them.

Thirty minutes later, Castiel was watching the Dread Pirate Roberts chase Fezzik up the cliffs of insanity! when something made him jump. His wing flinched away from whatever had touched it - more of a reflex than actual wariness. He looked down towards his feet to see Dean holding his hands up apologetically, his teeth worrying his lip.

“Sorry,” he rushed. “It’s just…they’re…it was right there, and…I wasn’t thinking. My bad.”

Castiel shook his head. “It just surprised me. I don’t actually mind if you touch them.” He didn’t bother telling Dean how nice it would actually be. There were way too many things that he wasn’t sure how to explain or even if he should. Besides, there wasn’t much point as conventions didn’t mean much in this fam- uh- bunker anyway.

Castiel stretched back out and returned his gaze to the tv screen. If his wing was a little easier for Dean to reach than before when he stretched it back out, it was completely unintentional…and a useless gesture since Dean’s hands stayed firmly - annoyingly - to himself for the rest of the movie.

When Castiel left the couch once the movie was over, he groaned as he noticed several feathers left behind. He bent to gather them, but Dean waved him off.

“I got it. Don’t worry about it,” he’d said as he picked them up and left the room.

A week later, Castiel was sitting on the steps down into the bunker, running his fingers through his wings. They looked…he wasn’t sure…like maybe they needed to be groomed? He should probably research wing care. Perhaps he should purchase some sort of oil for them. It was something he had never actually had to do before. Even back when he had wings, they existed primarily on the astral plane where feathers hadn’t really been a thing, not like this anyway. Castiel sighed.

He wished they’d just go back where they came from.

Not that he minded having his wings back. Being able to fly again…he didn’t realize how much he’d been missing it. But did they have to be like this? He couldn’t hide them, making him useless on any job where they needed to actually blend in. They were constantly in the way. They were uncomfortable. They apparently needed grooming now, and…

And they annoyed Dean. Dean had already had to help him figure out how to adjust his clothing to accommodate them. You can’t just go around shirtless all the time, Cas. You just…can’t! So I’m gonna figure out this damn nineteen-thirties sewing machine and fix your damn shirt to go around the wings, Dean had declared. But worse was that no matter how hard Castiel tried to watch for fallen feathers, Dean was still constantly having to pick up after him.

Castiel gripped at some of the longer feathers and scowled at them, willing this blasted plumage to go back to the plane it belonged in.

He spotted Dean just in time for Dean to look up as he walked through the room. He paused, eyes landing on Castiel. “Hey, Cas, you okay, man? You look kinda…” His voice trailed off and he gestured vaguely.

Castiel sighed, letting his shoulders slump. “Apparently, I need to research wing care for these,” he replied, casting the wings a dirty look.

Dean shuffled, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck. “Actually, I, uh- I might be able to help with that.”

Castiel tilted his head. “Thank you, Dean. I probably will need the use of your computer.”

Dean nodded. “Um, actually, I already have looked into it some.” He looked up. “I mean, not that you’re not welcome to use my laptop! That’s not what I’m saying. I just meant…until you find something better or figure out exactly what you need, I might have some stuff that can help.”

Castiel watched with Curiosity as Dean averted his eyes, seeming strangely self-conscious for being willing to help - something that made Castiel, in turn, feel strangely warm. Castiel smiled softly, “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean grunted. “Come on. I’ll show you what I’ve got.” He turned without waiting and began walking towards his room.

Castiel followed.

Dean opened the door and walked to his bedside table. Before opening the drawer, he turned to look over his shoulder at Castiel with a grin. “Don’t laugh okay? It’s all I could find.”

Castiel tilted his head, simultaneously curious and nervous about whatever Dean thought he’d find funny.

Dean opened the drawer and produced two, three, five, eight…twelve different bottles.

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Dean, I-”

“I wasn’t sure which one’s you’d like okay? Or if any of these would even work for you. It’s not like they sell angel grooming supplies on Amazon. So…” He held out one of the bottles.

Castiel took it. Now being able to read the bottle, he wasn’t sure if he was more amused or a little horrified.

Bird Shampoo.

“I got a couple different kinds. Wasn’t sure if you were more of a tropical bird or a mountain bird,” he teased…

Castiel dropped his head. “Dean…” He drew the word out.

“Oh come on! It’s a little funny.” He waited for a response. When he didn’t get one, he shrugged and continued. “Seriously though…I got a couple different kinds of shampoo along with some various oils and mist-ers…”

Castiel gave him a small smile. “Thank you. Really.” He looked down at the bottle of shampoo in his hand. “I have no idea what I’m doing and I appreciate it.”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. “Huh. I guess this is kinda new for you even though you’ve always had them. When your wings first showed up last month, I started looking stuff up and bought these, ‘cause I figured there was probably something we’d need to do to take care of them; but then I felt silly, because you hadn’t said anything and I figured you knew better than I did and maybe you didn’t need anything like this after all. So I just…put them in the drawer and didn’t mention it.”

Castiel inspected the various bottles, reading ingredients, sniffing them. He settled on one of the oils with a fairly neutral scent. “I think I’d like to try this one,” he said. “They’re fairly clean, and honestly I’m not sure I feel like trying to maneuver these in the shower tonight; but they do seem like they need to be oiled.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully, chewing at his lip. “You, uh…need some help with it?”

“I…” He should say no. “Yes.” What was he doing? He was taking off his shirt and was about to let Dean run his hands through his wings is what he was doing.

He sat on the bed, watching Dean try to decide how much oil to squeeze onto his fingers. He closed his eyes and sighed as Dean began to run those fingers experimentally through his feathers.

“That okay?” Dean questioned. “Tell me if I do something dumb. I’m kinda flying blind here.”

Castiel crossed his legs on the bed and propped his elbows on them. “I haven’t done this before either,” he looked over his shoulder, “but I trust you.”

Dean ducked his head and continued.

Castiel dropped his head and tried to relax, but guilt over the situation was creeping back in. “I’m sorry…” he whispered.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry for being a burden.”

“Dude, no.” Dean paused. “Hey, how many times have you patched me up, huh? Just consider this some payback. Besides, I don’t mind.”

“You say that…but I know you don’t like them. So for you to have to h-”

“Wait…what?”

Castiel turned to look over his shoulder. “My wings. You don’t like them.”

Dean gaped. “The fuck, Cas? Where’d you get that idea?”

Castiel scowled. “They’re a nuisance, Dean. I bump into things with them all the time. You’re constantly having to clean up behind them. And now… you’re even having to do this.”

“Dude, I really don’t mind. You take care of me an’ Sam; we take care of you. We’re family. Taking care of each other comes with the territory. Besides…your wings? They’re fucking cool! I mean…” Dean gestured wildly at Castiel’s wings, then gave him a look like that should have explained it.

Castiel smiled and shook his head. “Okay,” he conceded as he turned back around.

An hour later, Castiel’s wings and Dean’s hands and arms were covered in oil, and Castiel was fairly certain that he might have died multiple times while Dean had been tending to them. It was simultaneously the most calming and nerve-wracking experience of Castiel’s existence, but now that Dean was done Castiel already missed the contact.

“Well,” Dean gave Castiel’s wings a final once-over, “I hope that helps and didn’t just make things worse. They look nice and shiny anyway.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, I think this is the nicest they’ve looked since they showed up.” He ran his fingers through the feathers. They had a good sheen but weren’t too oily to the touch. Dean had done well. “Thank you again.”

Dean grinned, looking almost proud. “No problem. But hey, it’s late. I think I’m gonna clean up and call it a night.”

“I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight, Dean.” He headed towards the door.

“Night, Cas.”

Castiel looked back and smiled as he opened the door, only to groan as his eyes fell on Dean’s bed. It was littered with dark feathers, not to mention dark patches that were probably from the oil Dean had been using.

He turned back to retrieve the feathers, but Dean waved him off. “I’ve got it,” he said, already picking them up. “Really, it’s all good. Night.” He pushed Castiel - still shirtless, by the way - out of the room and shut the door behind him.

It occurred to Castiel that he could at least bring Dean a clean blanket and take the soiled one to the washroom. He grabbed one from the closet across the hall and opened Dean’s door just in time to see him standing in front of his dresser, laying all of Castiel’s fallen feathers into the top drawer.

He flinched and spun around. “What the hell, Cas?”

Castiel just blinked. Eventually, he held out the blanket as an explanation.

Dean sighed and walked over to take it. “Thanks.”

“Dean you-”

“Don’t.”

“All those feathers you pick up…you’ve been keeping them?” He looked at Dean, wide-eyed.

Dean’s shoulders slumped. Then he shook his head and looked up at Castiel, taking on a defensive stance. “Well…yeah! Dude… angel feathers. I mean, come on! You can’t expect me to not think that’s cool!”

“I-”

“And they’re awesome! I mean, they look all inky and dark, but then you see them in the sun and suddenly there’s all these blues and greens and purples that show up when the light hits them just right, and they’re gorgeous! And they’re yours! I’ve been wanting to see what they looked like since that day in the barn when you stretched them out and all I got was a silhouette and now they’re here, and who knows if this’ll even last?! What if one day they just pop back to the astral plane or whatever and I never get to see them again, and I…dude, um…why are you looking at me like that?”

Castiel couldn’t help it. He could feel the big, gummy smile that had taken over his face, but he didn’t care. He walked over to Dean and pulled him into a tight hug. He had noticed Dean staring at his wings, of course he had; but he hadn’t imagined it was because he actually liked them.

“I should probably let you sleep,” he said as he let go and backed away, still unable to contain his smile. As he reached for the door, a thought occurred to him. He turned around. “Oh um…I think your freckles are gorgeous.” He nodded and opened the door, satisfied that he had also paid Dean a compliment, but a little confused about the color of red that Dean was turning.

~~~

(tags below the cut)

@aloha-cowgirl @petrichoravellichor @all-or-nothing-baby @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @verobatto-angelxhunter @godhasabeard19 @legendary-destiel @alicethrutheburrows @adoptdontshoppets @i-miss-balthazar @lykanyouko @mishtho @lanaserra @hopeworld-pop @didnt-survive-twist-and-shout @clumsytaurus @thatonecrappyperson

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