#The Few Things

[huggybearsunshine]

Fewer Things 7

[Part 7] Dean and Cas finish the movie and Dean realizes that Cas has nowhere to sleep.

“Westley reminds me of you,” Cas offered as he reached for more popcorn.

“Really?” Dean laughed, leaning forward to grab another beer for them both, “How?”

“You share a lot in common. He’s handsome and kind, cares about those who are important to him… he’s charming and skilled in combat…” Cas trailed on but Dean couldn’t get passed the first part.

“You think I’m handsome?” he swirled his beer in his hand, eyes cast downward into the bottle as if it held the answer to his question.

“Everyone thinks you’re handsome,” Cas’ brow quirked a bit.

“I guess… just never knew that you did…” he quieted and Cas’ face softened.

“Handsome doesn’t quite…” he looked down shyly, unable to finish the thought, and Dean’s heart panged painfully in his chest.

Dean found his face inexplicably burning and had to force his eyes back to the screen.

“Thank you,” he replied under his breath.

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Cas’ lips curled upward as he, too, shifted his gaze back toward the movie.

The rest passed with little ordeal, but as it neared its end, Dean noticed Cas’ eyes fighting to stay open.

“Almost there, buddy,” he grinned, “But it’s cool if you need to tap out.”

“No, I’m fine,” Cas shook his head as if it would rid him of the exhaustion overtaking his body, “Just not used to…”

“Being tired?” Dean tried.

“Being human again,” Cas looked over, unaware of how close they had grown.

Dean’s breath hitched and he looked away toward the safety of the screen.

“We’ve only got a few more minutes,” the hunter distracted himself as best he could with the task at hand, but after a few more minutes a pressure on his shoulder let him know that Cas didn’t make it through the end.

He let him remain there through the credits, enjoying the smell and feel of the man against him, and his hand itched to reach into his hair.

An instinct he fought with every fiber of his being, making the excuse that it just looked so soft.

Which, even to himself, felt flimsy.

“Hey,” he whispered instead, pressing his cheek against the top of his head and speaking the words into the strands.

“Hm…” a small noise escaped the former Angel.

“Think it’s safe to say, it’s time for bed,” he grinned despite himself.

“Oh,” Cas lifted his head as hooded eyes found Dean’s own wide and waiting, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he assured him quietly before a realization hit him, “Oh, you’re, uh… gonna need a place to sleep.”

“What’s wrong with my old room?” Cas wiped his eyes, still half-asleep.

“I kinda… wrecked it… after-“ he waved his hand vaguely as he trailed off.

“Oh,” is all he got in response.

“Sorry,” Dean sought to fill the silence, guilt twisting in his gut, “You can sleep in my room.”

“Are you sure?” Cas suddenly looked very awake.

“Yeah, I’ll sleep on the floor or something…” he shrugged, unable to meet the other man’s eyes.

“That’s unnecessary,” Cas’ voice wavered just slightly, “There are plenty of rooms…”

“Dude, the bedding in those rooms hasn’t been changed in decades,” Dean shook his head, focus snapping back to him, “It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” is all Cas could really say to that, head bobbing absentmindedly as they stood almost in sync with one another.

“Okay,” Dean breathed the word out as if it weighed heavy on his lip.

And after a mostly silent walk down the hallway, they found themselves standing just as awkwardly in his room as they had been in the cave.

“Sorry about your room,” Dean broke the tension, crossing to grab one of the pillows from his bed and holding it to his chest, “I’ll fix it tomorrow.”

The pillow dropped to the ground and he straightened it with his foot before stepping over it.

“Dean, I don’t think sleeping on the floor is necessary,” Cas pulled his attention back up just before the hunter went to sit down.

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” he smiled crookedly, waving a hand and following through with sinking down, “Just give me the blanket and you can use the sheet. I’ll be out in no time.”

Cas sighed but crossed to the opposite side of the bed.

Cas hesitated there for a moment before the quiet was filled with the unlatching of his belt buckle and the sound of his pants hitting the floor. Dean turned away as a blush reached his cheeks, brows stitching in an increasingly confused expression.

“It wasn’t like this before,” he thought to himself, “It wasn’t, right?”

Then the bed creaked and the blanket fell over him in a bunch.

His mind searched for anything normal to say, “Like a light.”

That wasn’t it.

The former Angel must’ve misheard him, though, as the lamp clicked off and they were submerged in darkness.

“Dean?” Cas’ disembodied voice spoke out.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“I think I understand your love of memory foam,” the comment caught Dean off guard and a laugh pushed forcefully out of his lungs.

“Yeah, okay, brag to the guy on the floor!” the hunter grinned, putting an arm behind his head as he stared up toward the ceiling.

“Right, of course,” Cas cleared his throat, “Apologies.”

Dean grinned softly, dimples indenting against the corners of his lips.

“Could get you one…” Dean shifted as a pain sharpened into his shoulder, “Now that you’re human… Y’know, if you’d like.”

“That would be nice,” he replied in soft reverence.

They fell again into comfortable silence until the hunter could hear the slowing of the other man’s breath.

“Hey Cas?” he tried a moment later.

Silence.

“You asleep?” he questioned, quieter.

Still nothing.

He smiled to himself, playing with the hem at the bottom of the sheet next to him, “G’night, Cas.”

But half an hour passed and he couldn’t get comfortable as Cas’ breaths deepened, the sound sending lightning down his spine and twisting his insides.

His eyes shut tightly as he ran his hands a little too roughly over his face.

Cas might have been right, and Dean wasn’t as young as he once was. His back ached and limbs were falling asleep, and he didn’t think he could find any comfort like this, even on his most exhausted of nights. Not without a hell of a lot more liquor in his system at least.

“Cas?” he asked softly and a hand dropped down, lightly grazing over his arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He touched it cautiously, gripping the palm in a light squeeze.

“Cas.”

“Hmm?” a voice stirred from above.

“I’m coming up,” Dean’s voice shook against each word.

“Okay,” he heard back before the bed shifted under the former Angel’s weight.

A sign of him moving over to make space.

Dean let out a breath, then grabbed his pillow and slid in.

An even worse mistake, he decided another hour later as his skin crawled with every breath from Cas’ lungs, every sigh, and shift of his body.

It was like Dean was on fire, he felt so flushed.

Cas was too close, and Dean’s hands itched to reach out.

He allowed his eyes to wander instead, falling on the soft lines of the former Angel’s features and the messy hair that framed them. He was beautiful. Without the weight of the world baring down around them, Dean could see it.

“Shit,” he whispered under his breath and slipped from beneath the sheets, feet hitting the floor and grounding him.

He grabbed his robe as he left the room, carefully closing the door so as not to wake the object of his affection.

When had Cas become that? When did this happen? And more importantly, how had he not noticed?

“Shit…” he repeated, leaning his head against the door as it clicked shut with hands bracing either side, “What the fuck is going on?”

He pushed off and stalked down the hall, hand tangled into his hair, until he reached the safety of the distant kitchen.

Once he was there, he pulled out every breakfast food, pot, and pan they had. It was enough to feed an army, but Dean didn’t care. He needed a distraction, and cooking always seemed to provide that well.

Plus, whatever he used needed cleaning after and that also seemed like a good outlet for his anxiety.

He lost himself in the task, placing whatever he finished in the oven to keep it warm until he had nearly covered the counters to each side of him with empty cartons and wrappings.

He heard footsteps closing in on him and knew already his noise had attracted the attention of his early-rising little brother.

Sure enough, the other Winchester rounded the corner and his eyes grew large.

“Are we expecting company?” he asked in concern.

“No, I just… I over-did it, I know…” Dean wouldn’t look at him, leaning on his hands with his back to the doorway where Sam stood, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Did you even sleep?“ Sam asked with a glance at the time on his phone, “It’s 5:00 in the morning…”

“No, couldn’t sleep…” Dean’s head turned so that Sam could see his profile.

The younger of the brothers looked down the hall, seemingly realizing something.

“Cas’ room…” he looked carefully back toward Dean, “Where is Cas?”

Dean’s hand shook beneath his weight so he turned and leaned his back against the counter.

“He’s asleep,” he still wouldn’t meet the eyes boring into him, “In my room.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead but he made no move to comment which was apparently comment enough to spook Dean.

“I slept on the floor,” he wiped his hands on a rag, “Tried to at least…”

“Why would you-“

“Sam, could we not?” his tone was biting, warning, and his eyes could’ve burnt a hole through the floor between them, “Please, just…”

“Okay,” Sam put his hands up, “Sorry…”

“What’s wrong?“ Cas’ eyes were huge when Sam took notice of him in the hallway, fear practically radiating from him.

But Dean was there before he could speak, pushing past Sam and steadying the former Angel’s wild gaze with his own.

“Hey, sorry, everything’s okay…” he attempted a casual smirk and almost managed to be convincing, “Just me being a hot head as always… Come on, I’ve got coffee and breakfast.”

Cas eased under the hunter’s care and followed him willingly back into the other room, leaving Sam to wonder what button he’d accidentally pushed to set him off this time.

———————

@destiel-wings @destieliscanon5nov

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Knowledge Revenge.

[flame-shadow]

hey did you know??? that if you stop stretching and maintaining mobility in your body then it goes away?? things get tight and you can't move the way that you used to??? and when you decide to try getting a stretch routine going that the first week fucking sucks because you keep going 'damn i used to be able to do this no problem' and then you have to switch gears and be kind to yourself and just focus on getting better from here instead of berating yourself for dropping the good habits in the first place??? and your body never stops aging so you gotta keep taking care of it and sometimes you gotta take care of it extra in certain areas because of things that happened when you were younger and it's boring and sometimes hurts but it's so necessary???

i am yelling this at myself right now i am going through An Experience (trying to get into a routine of body maintenance again for my physical and mental health)

[noodles-and-tea]

Our hextech dream….

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[eriochromatic]

🌗 Into Tartarus // Out of Tartarus 🔥

[choodraws]

gossip

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[ardri-na-bpiteog]

Also increasingly aware that a LOT of people "manage" getting through the 40+ hour work week by sleeping less than is healthy and relying on stimulants like coffee and energy drinks to keep them going.

For people who are unwilling or unable to do this...work really does just dominate your life. Like we really should not have to rely on unhealthy practices just to have a social life or keep on top of housework or whatever.

I know I post about this a lot but I'm so TIRED all the time and it's just so depressing that this is how we're expected to spend the one life we have.

[captainjonnitkessler]

You know I used to think "tumblr's absolute refusal to actually engage with the Trolley Problem in favor of insisting that there must be a third, morally pure option that doesn't require them to make a hard decision and anyone who asks them to make a binary choice is just a short-sighted idiot is really fucking annoying, but I guess it's not actually doing any harm".

Anyway that was before we asked tumblr at large to decide between "guy aiding a genocide but making progress elsewhere" and "guy who would actively and enthusiastically participate in a genocide and would also make everything else much, much worse for everyone elsewhere" and the response was that there must be a third, morally pure option that doesn't require them to make a hard decision and that anyone who asks them to make a binary choice is a short-sighted idiot.

[krysmcscience]

I have some questions about karaoke night, Alex Hirsch. Very Important Questions. Which I will happily scream at a poor hapless baby triangle who can have no answers for me, and possibly also does not have object permanence yet.

Follow-up that is I guess suggestive, but let's be real here, Bill's a fucking triangle:

Dude slipped right into his birthday suit, lmao

this is so stupid :D

Anyway, I don't care what anyone says, this brilliant individual knows what's up - Bill is absolutely way more of a monsterfucker than Ford could or ever will be, full stop.

[angelsdean]

me whenever i see /pos and /hj: why are you calling me a piece of shit and what do handjobs have to do with any of this :/

[huggybearsunshine]

Fewer Things 8

[Part 8] Cas’ alcohol tolerance has dropped significantly, and he doesn’t know his limits.

Dean found himself hovering, for lack of a better term, as the days stretched on. He was working on cleaning the mess he made of Cas’ room as promised, but it was like his body didn’t want it to be done.

He did, however, need it to be, as sleeping next to the former Angel was proving near impossible.

And even though Dean had thought about sleeping in the movie room, he couldn’t pull himself away from the former celestial’s side long enough to seriously consider the idea. He would say it was for Cas, but he strongly felt as though that might be an excuse. So he suffered through restlessness for comfort, and that was messed up even for Dean.

Still, wakefulness gave him little reprieve either, what with Cas’ increasing confidence in pushing the limits that had been so set throughout their friendship.

And the hunter even had to admit to himself, he wasn’t really fighting him on that.

They were just little things here and there that he could brush off, but his body’s reaction was the harder part to excuse away.

“Dean?” Cas caught him staring again.

“Sorry,” he snapped the charm into place to disguise his reverie, “You were talking about Michael Angelo, I was listening…”

“Michelangelo,” Cas smirked adoringly.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Dean grinned back, sipping his whiskey as his eyes shone over the rim.

“It wasn’t important,” Cas’ features were soft, arm resting on the chair so that his glass hung suspended from his hand, “What were you thinking about?”

“Me?” he cleared his throat, “Was just thinking about taking a drive tomorrow… We’re low on food, and we could use a supply run if you’re interested..?”

“Very,” he leaned his head back until it rested on the back of the chair and his eyes scanned the ceiling, “We haven’t left the bunker at all since I got back… I’m not used to so much down time without an apocalypse or a hunt.”

“Yeah, well you deserve a break,” Dean took another sip to avoid the look he was getting.

“Is that what you’re doing too?” Cas wasn’t swayed so easily from the topic at hand, “Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I can’t still figh-”

“I don’t want you to,” Dean’s voice was stern but without any bite or anger.

“Ever?” the former Angel asked casually as if Dean had a right to say.

The hunter fixed him with a look, considering something for a moment to himself, “I’ll stop if you will.”

This seemed to catch Cas off guard and he straightened up in his chair a bit, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I mean, we’re basically retirement age for hunters- you especially.”

He grinned and gave a teasing wink, and Cas’ eyes scanned over him unguarded, the liquor clearly taking its toll.

“Cas, not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that... I got laid.”

Dean’s words ran past his mind unbidden and he was fairly certain his face was red as he downed the rest of his drink and ran a hand over his face.

“You can’t look at me like that,” the words fell out before Dean could catch them, and Cas’ head tilted in response.

“How am I looking at you?” he asked in soft curiosity.

Dean’s chest rose and fell heavily beneath his red flannel as he stared the former Angel down, “You know how.”

“Hey, there you are,” Sam rounded the corner, pausing as he took in the atmosphere of the room, “What am I interrupting?”

“Cas is drunk,” Dean grinned widely, stealing the forgotten glass from Cas’ hand to finish for him and setting his own, empty glass down on the table.

“‘M not drunk,” Cas corrected, still half-laying in his chair.

“‘Course not,” Dean’s smile lit his whole face and spread all the way to his brother’s face as well.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Sam shook his head, “We watching the uh, the thing tonight?”

“The meteor shower!” Cas announced with little physical movement, looking more and more comfortable by the second, “I forgot!”

“Well, lucky for you, I didn’t,” Dean smirked proudly, “I’ve got blankets, chairs, snacks- the whole shebang, and we’ve got about another…” he pulled out his phone, “Forty-five minutes til it starts.”

“What’s a shebang?“ Cas asked, eyeing his glass like it offended him when he found it suddenly empty.

Dean paused for a moment then looked back toward the other man, “I don’t know, but we got the whole thing!”

“It’s a civil war term,” Sam supplied off-handedly.

“Of course you know that!” Dean knocked his shoulder.

“Uh, Dean,” Sam wasn’t paying attention to him and instead looking just over his shoulder, “Might’ve overdone it on the pre-game.”

“What?” he whipped around to see Cas passed out, head tilted back and snoring lightly, “No! He was really looking forward to this!”

He ran a hand through his hair before his eyes returned to the taller of them.

“What?” the word held new meaning in its repetition as his hand dropped at the quizzical and fascinated look on his brother’s face.

“Nothing,” the other man sighed, looking away as his head shook in exasperation, “You got the room ready for him yet or is he sleeping there tonight?”

“No,” Dean’s eyes dropped, “No, I got him.”

He looked back toward the sleeping former Angel, softening as the man’s head twitched slightly and a small sound huffed out.

He approached gently, beaming before him and shaking his knee softly.

“Cas? Buddy?” his voice softened, “Come on.”

“I’m not hogging the bed, you are…” he grumbled out, and Dean’s face went red.

Fearful eyes cut toward Sam, but he was already walking toward the hallway and leaving the pair to their dance.

“Dean?” a deep, groggy voice called him back.

“Hey,” a shine returned with his attention, “Think we might have to catch the next meteor shower.”

“It’s not for another seventy years,” blue eyes saddened as they met with his.

“Maybe a different one then,” he shrugged, tapping his leg again before he rose up, “Come on.”

Cas took his hand and was tugged to his feet, stumbling a bit as he did, but Dean was there to steady him.

“I’m sorry I messed up our night,” he looked so distraught that Dean’s heart pulled in his chest.

He glanced down at his watch then back up to the hopeful, blue eyes awaiting him, “How bout this… We get some carbs in you and you manage to stay coherent for another half hour, and maybe we can see about this meteor shower after all.”

Cas’ head bobbed excitedly, pulling a laugh from deep in Dean’s chest.

“Yeah, okay, come on,” he threw an arm around him and headed them both toward the kitchen.

————————

@destiel-wings @destieliscanon5nov

A/N: Also those of you who comment are blessed by the old gods and the new. Seriously. Giving me life. 🫶🏼

[simonbrain]

going to town on yourself after a long, gruelling week of work, legs spread and your face all fucked out as the vibrator between your legs buzzes deliciously against your clit. you were using the sheets to cover yourself, but they're all soaked; oh well, it's getting stuffy anyway. best to kick them off to avoid overheating.

you're so caught up in chasing your fourth orgasm that you don't realise in the fat ass window that grants you a beautiful view of the city are two men standing on top of a suspended platform, looking right at you. the one with the mohawk gawks, his mouth hanging open, maybe even a little bit of drool seeping down as he eyes the mess between your thighs. the bigger one wearing the black disposable mask sucks in a breath, his jaw clenched as he catches sight of your pretty pink tongue sticking out of your mouth.

your glossy eyes blink open; you're so fucking close. all it takes is your focus darting over to the window where those men are intruding on your privacy, and suddenly you're squirting, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you experience the most intense orgasm in your life.

(the two window washers are still staring at you when you take a peek at them, unmoving. their intense gazes manage to snap you out of your daze, and you feel around for the remote to roll down your electric blinds before you hide your face in a pillow, your stomach still fluttering.

good luck trying to go outside to run your errands later on; you don't even make it into your car before you're cornered by the same two creeps in the car park.

maybe you should have closed the blinds before you started. oops.)

[kensatou]

"we know how to move our bodies, but i didn't know how to manage my heart, so you need help for this"

hi we need to talk more about judo gold medallist christa deguchi.

[monkesupreme]

ref

a satisfactory answer for Selina