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castiel · 3 years ago

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happy valentine’s day to @wigglebox my @spnvalentines!! hope you like it!!😘 thanks again to @acklesology and @fallingstarsdeancas to hosting this lovely event! also for day 1: love languages of @spncreatorsdaily valentine event💖

more than you know (ao3) 3.7k rated: G tagged: love languages, love confessions, matchmaker sam sometimes it seems like dean and cas speak different languages, especially when it comes to love. sam decides to poke them in the right direction --- Feeling a blanket being wrapped around his shoulders, Castiel frowned up at Dean in question.

“Heats out. Should have it back in an hour or so.” Castiel saw that Dean did in fact seem to be wearing more layers than normal. He of course, hadn’t even noticed the change in temperature, but now that he was paying attention to it, he realized that it was several degrees colder than usual in the bunker. Watching Dean shuffle off to the boiler, Castiel tapped his fingers in thought on the book he was reading. Dean had been doing this quite frequently of late. Offering him things he didn’t need, like a glass of water after a hunt to rehydrate, or snacks while he was researching. Surely Dean knew he didn’t need these things. He was baffled as to why Dean had suddenly started doing these things when he spent more time around the bunker. Perhaps it was Dean’s way of nudging him out the door. Showing him that he was an imposition. Something for Dean to worry about and fuss over when he could be living his life. But he could take care of himself. And since he was sure Dean knew this, these actions had to have some ulterior motive. He just wasn’t sure what exactly it was.

It only continued that night. “You know I don’t need to eat, Dean.”

Dean nodded, “Sure, but sometimes it’s nice to anyways. I want to make you something.”

Castiel shrugged. “I suppose that raspberry pie we tried the other day at the diner was interesting.”

Dean grinned widely, “Raspberry pie it is.”

As he bounced off to the kitchen, Castiel watched him go, perplexed.

Sam laughed softly and shook his head as Castiel turned to him, squinting. “I don’t understand why Dean has been acting so strangely.”

One of Sam’s eyebrows raised, “You really don’t know?”

“No. He’s been treating me like a child.”

Sam pressed his lips together and hummed. “I suppose it could come off that way. But it isn’t how he means it.”

“How does he mean it?”

Sam ran his hand through his hair, “You know that Dean basically raised me, right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s like instinct. Baked into him. He was a caretaker for me, and that never really stopped.”

Castiel tilted his head, “I’m not sure I understand. He knows I’m an angel, so why would he be offering these things to me?”

“That’s how he shows he cares. It can be stifling sometimes, but it’s what he’s always done.” He smiled, “I’m sure you’ve noticed he does the same thing to me, even though I’m an adult.”

Castiel realized that Sam was right. He just hadn’t connected the two interactions because that was how Dean had always been with Sam, ever since he’d met the brothers. “But how does that equate to care? We’re both perfectly able beings.”

Sam sighed and thought for a moment before speaking, “You worry about Dean’s wellbeing right? If he’s hurt, say, or upset?”

“Of course.”

“It’s that on overdrive. You care about someone so much that you want to make sure that they’re taking care of themselves, even if they are capable. Sometimes people forget.” Sam tipped his head, “Though I realize it’s different for you, being an angel — I don’t think Dean sees it that way.”

“Hm.” Castiel nodded in thought. He hadn’t realized that the coddling was out of an abundance of care. A warm soft feeling curled in his chest as he remembered all the little things Dean had been doing for him. Dean was trying to show that he cared. Perhaps he could respond in kind. “Thank you, Sam. This has been illuminating.”

Sam chuckled, “Anytime, Cas. Anything to get you guys to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

Sam shook his head, “Nothing,” before getting up and heading back to the library.

Finding Dean in the kitchen, Castiel noticed how hunched over he was, kneading pastry dough on the countertop. Dragging a stool over from the table, Castiel set it next to Dean. “You should sit so you don’t strain your back.”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not that old, Cas.” Castiel moved the stool back to the table. Perhaps he’d done it wrong.

That night when they went to watch a movie, Castiel handed Dean a blanket. He waved it away, “I’m not cold.”

“Oh.” Castiel deflated slightly, this wasn’t going quite to plan.

Dean looked at him carefully before reaching his hand out. “But I might get cold later.” Castiel nodded, appeased.

The next morning at breakfast, Castiel spooned another helping of eggs onto Dean’s plate for him. Dean frowned at him, “It’s okay man, I’m full.”

“You need to make sure to nourish yourself,” he insisted.

Laughing, Dean patted Castiel’s shoulder. “I’m not gonna forget to eat, Cas.”

Castiel looked across the table at Sam in bewilderment. Why wasn’t Dean understanding?

Sam rested his face in his palm and groaned.

“What’s wrong, Sammy?” Dean asked as he shoved another forkful of eggs in his mouth despite his claim of being full.

“Oh, you know,” Sam waved his hand in the air, “Just the usual pain in my ass.”

Dean snickered, “You should probably get that checked out,” at the same time as Castiel asked, “You’re hurt?”

Sam shook his head with an awkward smile, “I’m fine, Cas.”

Sam came into his room without knocking. Which he knew Dean hated. Dean groaned, “Come on man, I could be doing anything in here.”

Sam gave him a look, “Ya, you could. But you’re just reading your western.”

“Just reading my-” Dean sputtered, “Lorena just got abducted!” He set the book down, open faced on his chest with an annoyed flourish. “What’s so important?”

Sam handed Dean his phone. “Just take this quiz. Eileen and I placed bets on what you’ll get, so you have to do it.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, he could always tell when his brother was lying. He looked at the screen, then back at Sam incredulously, “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Nope. Come on, I’ve got five bucks riding on this.” Sighing, Dean started tapping out answers to the quiz entitled, ‘Find your love language’. When he got to the end, he handed the phone back to Sam. Sam frowned at the screen for a moment, “Huh. ‘Quality time. You enjoy spending time with the people you care about even if you’re not doing anything special.’”

“Ya, I could’ve told you that without your silly little quiz,” Dean quipped. Sam glared at him. “So, do you get five bucks?” Sam didn’t say anything before leaving and shutting Dean’s door a little too hard. “Guess not,” Dean grinned to himself as he went back to his book.

“What’s this?” Castiel asked after Sam slid his phone across the table to him.

“Just take the quiz.”

“Ok.” Castiel pushed aside the book he was reading and tapped away at the screen. A moment later he came to the end, “I received the ‘words of affirmation’ result.”

“Shit.”

Castiel frowned, “Is that bad?”

“No, no Cas, that’s a great result. It just explains why this has taken so long.”

His frown deepened, “Why what has taken so long?”

Sam just shook his head at him and left the library muttering to himself about having to do everything.

The next afternoon when Dean was working on Baby, he heard footsteps echo across the garage. Lifting his head out from under the hood, he saw Sam. “What’s up?”

Sam shrugged. “Nothing much.”

Dean stared at him, waiting for more, but nothing came. “Okay,” he gave him a look and went back to fiddling with the engine.

“Just wanted you to know that I got Cas to take that quiz too.”

Dean paused in unscrewing a part but didn’t look back up. “Oh ya?”

“Mhmm. He got ‘words of affirmation’.”

He checked three more plugs before he laughed unconvincingly even to his own ears, “What does that even mean?”

“That actions don’t speak louder than words for him. That hearing how you feel, or being paid an unsolicited compliment means a lot.”

Cleaning a connector with his rag, Dean knew he wasn’t even doing anything for the car at this point. He was just avoiding looking at Sam. “Huh.” By the time he had the courage to peek up, Sam had left. Kind of weird that he came in just to tell him that.

Finally standing, Dean stretched out his back, feeling it pop in a few places. So… Cas understood nice words more than he did actions. A dark, sinking guilt settled in his gut. He’d never been very good at using his words. The few times he had, were when he thought he was moments from death. Or he downplayed what he actually wanted to say. Never really letting himself be fully honest. Always so afraid to lose what they already had, because when did he ever get to keep something good? There was always another fight, or another enemy after them. He was always having to sacrifice himself in various ways to even keep them all together as much as they were.

But… he supposed it could be argued that if things could end at any time, then perhaps now was all they would ever have. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he forced himself to breathe. Cas deserved to know how important he was, and if Sam was right, then he’d never actually expressed it to Cas in a way he’d understand. So, even though the idea of saying it scared Dean more than anything they’d ever faced, he was just going to have to bite the bullet and face the consequences… whatever they might be.

Castiel was just finishing his book and thinking about heading to his bedroom when Sam came into the library. He didn’t need to sleep, but he enjoyed resting in a place that was just his. He’d probably take another book with him. “Did you need something, Sam?”

“Uh, sort of.” Sam leaned on the chair across from Castiel. “Just wanted to let you know that I got Dean to take that quiz too.”

“Oh?”

“His love language is quality time. So, he just wants to spend time with the people he cares about. Doesn’t have to be around any special event or anything, just being together.”

Castiel nodded at Sam to show he’d heard him, but he had no idea what sort of response Sam wanted. “I see.”

Sam nodded back and widened his eyes, as if to indicate something, “So, you know, do with that what you will.” Then winked before leaving again.

Running his fingers over the edge of the book in front of him on the table, Castiel wondered why Sam was telling him this. Perhaps he meant that Dean didn’t comprehend his care through the small gestures he’d offered.

He’d always thought that Dean didn’t want him around all the time. That he was more useful if he was searching for tools they needed, or finding answers out in the world. But… if Sam was right, perhaps Dean would enjoy more time together. He did always seem pleased to watch movies with him. Castiel had just thought that was about educating him so that he’d understand Dean’s references. But maybe it was actually about the time they spent together.

Standing from the table, he made up his mind.

He found Dean in the kitchen drinking a glass of water, clothes still oil and grease stained from the garage. His eyes widened when they met Castiel’s. “Oh, hey Cas.”

“Dean.” Castiel rubbed a couple of his fingers together, gathering himself. “I believe it’s a clear night tonight.”

“Uh… I think so, ya.”

“Would you… would you like to go look at the stars?” Dean just stared at him, his face blank. Castiel added on, “With me, I mean.”

“Just us?”

Castiel nodded. “If that’s okay.”

Dean’s expression finally softened and the corner of his mouth tipped upwards, “That’s always okay, Cas.” He gestured to his clothing, “Let me just change outta these. Should probably put something warm on, it’ll be cold out there.” Jutting his chin towards Castiel’s own clothes he asked, “Do you want something warmer?”

Smiling lightly now that he knew what that meant, Castiel said, “I could grab a blanket for both of us?”

Dean set down his glass with a grin, “Good idea.”

They drove out to a dark field a few minutes away from the bunker, where the sky stretched out in every direction, stars blanketing the heavens and illuminating the foliage in a silvery glow.

Settling on the hood of Dean’s car, they sat side by side, the blanket at Castiel’s right side in case they needed it. Sitting in silence for a long moment, they just admired the view. Castiel took a deep breath. It was moments like this when he felt closest to… the unnamed feeling deep inside him. The thing that had caused the crack in his chassis. Surrounded by the beauty of God’s creation, awe inducing in its vastness, with Dean at his side. Nothing could be more perfect, he thought.

“I enjoy spending time with you, Dean. I’d like if we could do it more often.”

Dean groaned and leaned forwards, brushing his hands through his hair aggressively. This wasn’t the response Castiel was hoping for. He thought Sam had said that this was the language that Dean would understand as his caring for him. He stayed quiet and waited for Dean to speak. Finally, Dean bumped his shoulder into Castiel’s and said quietly, “We can always hang out, Cas. I’m sorry if I made you feel like we couldn’t.”

Castiel shrugged. “There are just always more important matters to attend to. I’m more useful to you when I’m taking care of those things.”

He saw Dean clench his jaw out of the corner of his eye. “That’s not the point, Cas.” Castiel felt Dean shiver.

“You’re cold,” he handed the blanket to Dean and Dean glanced at him for a moment before wrapping it around both of them.

They sat like that for a beat, blanket around their shoulders and draped down their sides, turned slightly to face each other. Castiel tried to figure out what Dean was thinking from just his eyes, but his expression was carefully guarded. Then Dean glanced down and took Castiel’s hand in his. “Cas… the point, is that you’re more important than those things.” Dean looked away for a moment, “I know I’m not great at using my words, but you need to know how important you are… to me.”

Castiel frowned, wondering what had brought this on. “Yes. You’ve told me before that you need me. I know I’m of great use to you and Sam.”

There was a sharp tic in Dean’s cheek, “Cas… you’re not important to me because you’re useful. That’s not what I meant when I said I needed you. I meant-” Dean’s eyes flickered between his, “You mean the world to me, man.”

Dean’s cheeks darkened at that last statement, he was clearly uncomfortable. Castiel thought that perhaps Sam had convinced Dean that Castiel was unhappy and needed reassurance. “Dean, it’s alright. You don’t have to say things you don’t mean. I don’t need platitudes. Sam is your world and I have always admired your love for him.”

Dean just stared at him with a slightly horrified look on his face. “God, you don’t even believe me when I do say it.” Castiel tilted his head in confusion. Dean squeezed his hand tightly, “Cas, I’m not saying things I don’t mean. I’m finally, fucking finally, saying what I actually feel. And I know I’m doing a terrible job of it, but please, just listen to what I’m saying.”

Taking a breath, Castiel felt a strange nervous buzzing in his chest as he realized that Dean had been holding his hand this entire time. “Okay.”

“Yes, Sam is important. He’s my brother, and I probably couldn’t live without him. But you, man… you make life worth living.” As Dean stared into his eyes, Castiel felt the truth of his statement wash over him and the buzzing in his chest increased in frequency. “I know that sounds cheesy as hell, but it’s true. When you’re… gone,” Dean’s voice broke, “the world is just pointless, you know?” Dean’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, “Nothing matters if you’re not here… with me.”

Castiel couldn’t stop his smile if he tried and he gripped Dean’s hand back tightly. The buzzing in his chest was reaching a fever pitch and made him feel like he was glowing from the inside out. Dean smiled back at him softly and a tear rolled slowly down his cheek. Reaching out to gently brush it away with his thumb, Castiel admitted, “I always hoped that you would ask me to stay.”

Dean leaned his face into Castiel’s palm, and Castiel felt like he could shatter at any moment. “This is me asking you to stay.”

“Of course I’ll stay.” Nothing in all the universes could part him from Dean at this very moment. He would rend the world in two rather than be separated from his beloved.

But the smallest inkling of doubt lingered at the back of his mind and it worked its way out of his mouth before he could stop it, “But I always thought you wished for a normal life. One without hunting, or angels and demons, and apocalypses… you could still have that.”

Dean straightened, a hot anger in his eyes as he laid his hand over Castiel’s on his face, his thumb stroking over Castiel’s fingers a sharp contrast to the vehemence in his words. “Fuck a normal life. I want you, Cas.” He moved Castiel’s hand from his face to his left shoulder, pressing it in hard to make his point. “Even if I had to do it all over… I would. I wouldn’t want to live in a world where I didn’t meet you.”

Castiel felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks. His voice wavered, “I can’t believe I get to have this.”

Smiling at him, Dean moved to hold Castiel’s face in his hands, running his thumbs over his cheekbones. “You’ve always had me.” He leaned in and pressed his lips gently against Castiel’s and Castiel felt sure that force of the joy bursting from every inch of his being could create whole worlds. When Dean pulled away, he didn’t move far, keeping their faces inches apart. Through the tears in his eyes, Dean seemed to glitter and gleam in the starlight, as if he was surrounded by grace. Castiel rubbed his thumbs over Dean’s arms where his hands had found themselves. Dean took a shuddering breath, his voice rough with emotion. “I love you, Cas.” Tears were streaming down his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it every damn day. Because it’s been true for so much longer than I’d like to admit.”

Castiel choked out a laugh before he pressed his own kiss to Dean’s lips, hard and filled with years of repressed need. Dean moaned into it and the sound made Castiel shiver in pleasure down to his toes. Their lips opened as one and as Castiel slid his tongue along Dean’s, he relished being able to taste him for the first time. It was at once comforting and familiar, while also sensual and exciting. He had kissed others before, but it was nothing like this. He couldn’t even compare them, the experiences were completely disparate. As their kiss slowed, Castiel allowed himself one last soft press to Dean’s lips, they were both breathing heavily. “I love you too,” he sighed, marvelling in the open adoration on Dean’s face. “Since before I even knew what to call the feeling.”

A shadow passed over Dean’s eyes and his gaze skittered downwards. “I don’t deserve you, man.”

Castiel pressed his hand to Dean’s jaw and raised his head, waiting for Dean to meet his eyes again. When he did, Castiel infused his words with all the certainty he had, “Yes, you do. You deserve to be loved, to be cared for, and to be happy. And I shall endeavour to convince you of that fact for as long as you’ll have me.”

Coughing a short laugh through his tears which were beginning to stop, Dean smiled at him. “Pretty sure you’ve been it for me since we met.”

There was a fluttering inside him at Dean’s words. “I believe I know the feeling.”

“I’m gonna tell you everyday how much I love you.”

“You don’t have to say it everyday,” Castiel assured him. Then tipped his head cockily, “But it is nice to hear.”

Dean laughed fully, edges of his eyes crinkled and joyful looking deep into his. Castiel thought there was no better sound he’d ever heard. Dean rubbed his nose against Castiel’s tenderly, “Then I’ll say it, angel.”

When they got back to the bunker, Sam was waiting for them at the kitchen table with a smirk on his face. “It’s about damn time you two figured it out.”

Castiel glanced at Dean in question, they weren’t holding hands or doing anything to indicate that something had changed between them. “How did you know?” Dean asked.

“The power only just came back on a few minutes ago, so I figured something went right,” Sam took a satisfied sip from his mug.

Castiel blushed and Dean grinned when he noticed, pulling Castiel in by his sleeve to kiss his cheek.

Rolling his eyes, Sam waved them away, “Alright, keep it in whatever room you guys pick to be yours.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, he hadn’t wanted to presume that they’d share a space and was about to say as much when Dean turned to him and said, “My bed is bigger. But we could always buy a bigger one if you want.”

The warm fluttering feeling returned as Castiel realized that this was really happening. Dean really wanted this, with him. He couldn’t help himself, Castiel grabbed Dean’s jacket and pulled him into a forceful kiss.

Sam sputtered into his tea. “Seriously, I’m thrilled you guys are happy. But,” he pointed down the hall, “Room.”

Dean laughed and grabbed Castiel’s hand, pulling him along, and Castiel knew that he would follow. As he always had, and always would.

#spnvalentinesgiftexchange #spncreatorsdailyvalentine #destiel fic #deancas fic #love languages #jennmishwrites

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notdeadyetnatural · 3 years ago

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They are having a romantic anniversary breakfast this morning (dean made heart shaped waffles and cas picked fresh berries)

Tagging @fallingstarsdeancas because this seems like something you might enjoy :)

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darcyesque · 3 years ago

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first day of my life- bright eyes // destiel

for @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book for @fallingstarsdeancas and @acklesology's @spnvalentines event <33

taglist (ask to be added/removed):

@youre-only-gay-once @hawaiianpurplewolf @alltoowellcas @buzzbuzzbitches @tootiredmotel @v-o-f-k @toppinghughdancy @sierraxnevada @destitel @godstielguy @finalgirlstiel @yeesaac @metallicanatural @xofemeraldstars @emzwolf @novaklesbian @icefire149 @nightandwine @michaelabanes

#userjactingjoices #userstarry #usertabitha #spnamvarchive #i hope you like this!!#i really liked making it #amv #spnvalentinesgiftexchange

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eddietboyswag · 3 years ago

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My crown is in my heart, not on my head; not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen: my crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.

- Henry V, William Shakespeare

•••

Hello @10x02 ! I'm your valentine for @spnvalentines ! I hope you like your Cas, I love painting him and giving a million religious themes. :)

@fallingstarsdeancas

#spnvalentinesgiftexchange #thank you so much for letting me participate!! i really enjoyed this <3 #spn #supernatural #castiel #rio art

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withclawsandsympathy · 3 years ago

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Just to Prove the World Was Here

tags: endverse, angst with a hopeful ending, destiel, 2.4k

The end of the world has a way of warping the things we once knew, molding them into forms far beyond recognition. Time blurs at the edges. Hope cracks along its many fault lines. But there's one thing strong enough to withstand the apocalypse itself. Love, in all its forms -- if you'll let yourself have it.

Or, the world is still worth saving. And so is Dean Winchester.

Read more on ao3

Written as a gift for @vyveriin for the @spnvalentines celebration hosted by @fallingstarsdeancas and @acklesology! I hope you like it, apologies in advance for the angst <3

#spnvalentinesgiftexchange #destiel #fic #endverse #creativecaviar #spn #tess writes #shares are very appreciated!#wow my first fic in almost a year whoops

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apatheticanvas91305 · 3 years ago

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Title: Isn't It Strange?

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Word count: 6,701

Triggers: alcohol, mentions of death and guilt.

Summary: Destiel coffee shop, roommates AU.

First of all: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! Hope you're having a blast and that if your plans are similar to mine later, that your liver survives the night.

So this is for @spnvalentines gift exchange (hosted by the wonderful @fallingstarsdeancas and @acklesology). Originally it was going to be a little different. I managed to turn it into something very long (at least for me) and so this is the first chapter that can act as a standalone but will have more parts to come if you don't hate it.

I'm posting it on AO3 aswell:

Creds to: @walksinstarllight for catching all my errors, @carlgrimeschildsoldier for reading it through and feeding back, and @dadstiel-trenchcoat + @run-you-clever-blaine for listening to me complain about fics not writing themselves psychically.

And I really hope you enjoy it, @lotsofquestionslimitedanswers!

Chapter One: Strangers

03:47 AM

Dean groaned into his pillow. Was he ever going to get any sleep? It was his second night here – new bed, new apartment, new city – and he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

What you need to know about Dean is that his life kind of just fell apart. One day he was this outwardly confident, womanising, small-town hero, and the next thing he knew he was packing anything he could fit into the trunk of his car and driving as far as physically possible away from everything he’d ever known. He’d gone from his Kansas home of 24 years to a barren 70 square foot bedroom in San Francisco. His duffle bag sat in the corner.

He'd chosen this place because it was the first place he’d seen within 60 miles of his little brother Sammy that could take him right away. Sam had always been the smart one in Dean’s eyes. When they were younger, Sam had always been reading something. Every night, Dean would walk into his brother’s bedroom and Sam would give him the latest rundown on whatever weirdly fascinating subject he’d decided to become possessed by that day.

‘So, get this…’ Sam would say before Dean could even get a word out. He’d always been so damn proud of his baby brother.

Dean had never really taken school seriously himself. Maybe once, a long time ago, Dean remembered eagerly adding and subtracting fictional coins to and from a fictional treasure chest or dividing up fictional candy amongst his classmates. But then his mom had died, and his dad, John, had moved them all from Lawrence to Lebanon. And that was it for geeky Dean. It didn’t really matter. Dean had always known he’d wanted to be a fireman anyways; he’d never once thought ‘what if’.

Now Sammy was studying pre-law at Stanford University and Dean was unemployed, with absolutely no idea what he was going to do next. Dean could picture his brother now, buried under a mound of dusty old textbooks, hanging off their every word, or curled up watching some history documentary with his nerdy friends and his loving girlfriend.

Dean smiled. He liked Jess. They had only met once and not under the best circumstances or for very long, but it had been clear to Dean that she cared for Sammy, and who was Dean to argue with that.

So, yeah. Dean had moved all the way to San Francisco to be closer to his brother again, and then he had proceeded to make absolutely no attempts to contact him whatsoever. He hadn’t seen Sam since the funeral. Dean didn’t know if he could actually face him. They called sometimes. Sam would tell Dean about his studies and ask how he was, and Dean would forgo mentioning literally anything about his life and tell Sam that he was doing fine.

Sam had called yesterday, and Dean had let it ring for the first time in months. He’d texted him afterwards explaining that he was fine, he was just in a meeting. A meeting. Smooth, Dean, because firemen go to lots of meetings. They didn’t. He’d never attended a meeting in his life.

A loud bang and a string of curses pulled Dean from his thoughts.

Oh, had he not mentioned that he didn’t live alone. The ad he’d found had been for a roommate.

Dean sighed and climbed out of bed to see what all the fuss was about. He shivered for a moment as his covers slipped away then crossed the small space to his bedroom door. As he peeked his head out into the hallway, he saw Castiel.

Castiel was his roommate and quite possibly the oddest person Dean had ever met. He walks around appearing consistently confused, squinty, and tilting his head at almost everything that came out of Dean’s mouth. Apparently, he knows next to nothing about movies, or tv shows, or comics, or cars or sports or even music. And yet, within the first hour of meeting him, Dean found out how many steps there are from the apartment to the nearest subway, bus station, library, and grocery store. He now knew the percentages for all the different crime rates in the city, how many cars cross the golden gate bridge in a day and how much each of those cars would contribute on average to the air pollution in San Francisco, as well as how many boats were currently sitting in the harbour and even how many cats were put into rescue centres state-wide each month.

When he’d moved in, just over a day ago, Castiel had welcomed him, stuffed him full of pastries, shown him to the bathroom and to his bedroom, and then given him a book just because it was his favourite. Dean had dubbed him ‘the dorky little guy he now lived with’ (even though in truth, Castiel wasn’t much shorter than himself) and now the guy was half naked, swearing and scrubbing the floor at the bottom of the stairs with his coffee-stained shirt. A mug lay forgotten and cracked into three to the left.

‘Umm,’ Dean said, unintelligibly, starting off strong for their second conversation ever. Castiel looked up at him with wide surprised eyes.

‘My tea,’ Castiel went with, waving a hand at his uncovered chest. Dean blinked. They were both clearly socially inept, which was new for Dean. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

Dean brushed him off, ‘It’s fine. I was up anyway.’

Castiel looked at him curiously. It was strangely unnerving, like those ridiculously blue eyes were staring straight through Dean’s corneas and into his mind. ‘Why?’ He asked, like it was a perfectly acceptable question to ask a stranger at four in the morning, like anyone ever stayed up that late, alone, for light and casual reasons.

Dean shrugged. ‘No reason. Just thinking about that perfectly good mop you mentioned on your tour the other day.’

Castiel took a long, befuddled moment to process his words before looking back down at the sodden t-shirt in his hands. ‘You’re being sarcastic.’ He pointed out slowly, causing Dean to rub the back of his neck. It would be awkward if his new roommate wasn’t a fan of sarcasm.

‘Yeah, I kind of… do that, sometimes.’

Castiel nodded. ‘I’m not very good with sarcasm.’ He revealed, pushing himself backwards into a kneeling position.

‘Sorry.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ He was looking at him again with those big blue eyes. ‘You can teach me.’

Dean didn’t know what to say to that and it turned out he didn’t have to because his roommate simply picked up the tea-soaked shirt, climbed to his feet and walked away. Presumably to get the mop, but Dean honestly couldn’t say.

Looking down at the shattered mug and what was left of the spill, he had no idea what to do next. Was he supposed to help? Was he supposed to just go back to bed, or hang around and wait to see if his roommate ever came back? He didn’t know what was expected of him as a roommate. Standing around doing nothing felt uncomfortable and going back to bed felt unnecessarily rude, so instead he crouched down and began carefully collecting the little grey ceramic pieces and lining them up with each other out of curiosity. The former mug had apparently once said, ‘Me-Wow! This Tea is just the Cat’s Whiskers.’ Dean snorted; the absolute oddest guy he’d ever met.

He straightened when Castiel returned, sans the t-shirt, with a mop in hand. His roommate watched him as Dean held the broken pieces of the mug just in front of his chest, and Dean looked back. Castiel now wore a jumper that seemed to be competing in the same race to be the dorkiest item he owned as the mug. It was a baggy, light grey sweatshirt sporting a giant cartoon bee and had the words ‘BEE HAPPY’ printed across his chest, but Castiel looked anything but. He was staring at Dean’s hands with sad eyes.

‘That was my favourite mug.’

Dean pressed his lips together, not sure if he was supposed to speak words, or what? If it was Sam, Dean would knock him on the shoulder and tell him to stop being such a girl, there were other mugs out there, and Sam would look at him and know that he was trying to be comforting. But, if he told Castiel to stop being such a girl, he had a feeling he’d either end up being lectured on the sexism ingrained in society through comments such as that, or he’d be left awkwardly standing there as his roommate bursts into tears.

‘I’m always breaking my favourite things,’ Castiel sighed. Neither option sounded all that appealing to Dean, so he decided to take control of the situation and get it over with as quickly as possible.

‘I’ll swap you,’ he held out what remained of the late cup of tea. Castiel took it with gentle hands as Dean reached for the mop – he resisted pointing out that it was a bit late to be putting on the kid-gloves because he didn’t know this guy and he really was making an effort not to get cried on. He made quick work of the spill on the ground, pretending to admire how efficient this mop was rather than how the mug was carefully being pieced back together behind him.

When he turned around Castiel was staring at him seriously. ‘Thank you, Dean.’ He said earnestly. So, he’s intense, Dean noted down mentally, although it was kind of endearing.

‘Um, yeah. No problem.’ He leant against the wall and scratched his head, still holding the mop. ‘So…’

‘Oh, I should –’ Castiel’s eyes went wide once more. He balanced the mug on a nearby sideboard, making sure none of the pieces slid out of place, and rushed to take the mop from Dean. ‘You should, you should sleep.’

‘Yeah, well…’He trailed off.

‘Good night, Dean.’ His roommate offered him a small smile.

‘Good night, Cas,’ he said as he slipped back into his room, just missing the strange look that followed him.

It wasn’t until he was back, lying on his memory foam mattress, that he realised he’d just given the man a nickname. Awesome. Dean screwed his eyes shut and pulled his covers up over his head until he fell asleep.

***

The best thing about the new place was definitely Second Story. It was this little café the landlord owned above them and if there was one thing Dean could get used to it was the way he would wake up to the flat completely saturated with the smell of fresh coffee, sweet tea, and flawlessly baked pastries. He may have only got three out of four hours of his necessary beauty sleep, but it was almost impossible not to feel like a morning person when breathing in that air. Besides, when he was on call back home, he’d often gotten less. At least here he wasn’t being rudely awoken by a fire station alarm system.

Dean stretched out across the sheets, keeping his eyes shut. He was starting to get used to the way the memory foam moves beneath him – appreciate it even. Sighing, he rolled out of bed and assessed the room. His duffel bag was still in the corner of the room with his clothes from yesterday on the floor next to it. Dean crossed the room and rifled through it, grabbing the first shirt, jeans, and boxers he came across. He snatched up his dirty laundry and his wash kit as well and headed to the bathroom.

After a quick rinse under the shower – not long enough to allow his thoughts to run wild – he stepped out into the bathroom. It was bigger than his own bedroom because it doubled as their utility room. A washer and a dryer took up one half of the room, with a drying rack and a laundry hamper. Dean put his dirty clothes next to the hamper instead of in it where he assumed Castiel’s laundry resided.

Speaking of Castiel, Dean cringed, he could not believe he’d gone and given him a nickname like that. He’d only been here two days. They’d only interacted three times: once when he’d arrived, once when Dean had gone down to the kitchen for lunch yesterday, and then again last night. It was little soon to start shortening each other’s names. Hopefully, Castiel was going to take the same route as Dean and pretend it had never been said. If he went downstairs and got called anything but Dean, he’s pretty sure he’d keel over dead. Although, Dean reckoned Castiel was more likely to question him about last night rather than follow suit. Either way, same result; dead Dean.

Since he’d arrived, he’d only gone upstairs twice to grab some water from the kitchen they shared with the café. The rest of the time he’d spent either holed up in his new room contemplating calling Sam or just wandering aimlessly through the neighbourhood.

Today he’d walked in and out of a nearby pet shop, round golden gate park and along the beach. He’d stopped to buy some groceries from the nearest Walmart and then walked back to the apartment, pausing outside San Francisco Fire Station 23.

Dean wasn’t stupid, he knew he was going to need a job, and that he was going to need it relatively soon. He may have managed to find the only cheap apartment in San Francisco but that didn’t mean his pockets were deep enough to put him up for long without an income. It was just that the idea of getting a post at a new station here made Dean feel queasy. Actually, the idea of going back to fighting fires at all made his stomach turn right now, but Dean was busy denying that. Instead, he put it down to the fact that going back, but not to his old fire house, would just feel wrong. Maybe it was just what he needed, but he couldn’t shake this feeling long enough to send in an application.

He thought about alternatives all the way back home. He knew a lot about cars, maybe a mechanic would take him on, or he could bartend some place; he definitely knew how to drink. By the time he was standing out front of the apartment, he’d talked himself into sending out his CV to a few places he’d walked past on his way. There had been several bars, a couple mechanics and a nightclub. Dean figured he stood a good chance of getting something. If not, he could always find a supermarket somewhere, he shivered at the concept.

For a moment, Dean paused on the sidewalk, watching the steady stream of customers up and down the steps to the café and then he made the decision to follow them. He hadn’t actually seen the actual café part of the café. He was pretty sure Castiel worked there, simply because he never seemed to use their front door. They shared their kitchen with it but he couldn’t see the rest of it from there.

It wasn’t really anything he had expected. It was one large room with an L-shaped counter in one kitchen, behind which was the door to the kitchen. Sofa booths and table sets filled three quarters of the rest of the room with the final portion being dedicated to several towering bookshelves and a much smaller, one-person counter, behind which Castiel stood.

He was wearing a ridiculous blue vest and dark charcoal jeans, leaning against the wall behind him and reading a thick hardcover book. His eyes wrinkled at the corners as he smiled, presumably reading something amusing. Dean tried not to stare as he walked up to the main counter. A young woman, about Castiel’s age, smiled at him as he approached.

‘Hi, I’m Daphne. Welcome to Second Story. What can I get you for today?’

‘Um…’ Dean looked back at his roommate who was chatting with a little old lady and helping her decide between two books. Daphne cleared her throat. ‘Sorry, I- I’ll have a coffee please. One shot of espresso. Black.’

She nodded slowly, smiling. ‘Coming right up.’

Dean waited to the side as Castiel scanned in one of the books and waved goodbye to the woman. He watched until Castiel caught his eye at which point he snapped his attention back to Daphne and pretended to be very interested in the coffee-making process. Yes, what an intriguing espresso machine; lovely… buttons.

‘Dean.’ He jumped, he thinks maybe literally, and tried not to curse. Apparently, Castiel had decided to cross the room to greet him.

‘Castiel.’

His roommate squinted. Oh god, please don’t mention the nickname. He was about to say something more, anything more because right now they were just staring at each other when Daphne interrupted.

‘You’re Dean?’ Which at least got Castiel to look away from him and glare at her as she placed Dean’s coffee on the counter.

‘Yes? I’m Dean.’ He shot his roommate a questioning look as he got out his wallet and paid for his drink. Castiel didn’t meet his eyes.

‘Sorry, I know. I promise it’s not creepy.’ Daphne reassured him, putting away the cash. ‘Castiel just mentioned you moving in as all.’ She smiled at the pair of them. ‘Have a nice day.’ And then, grinning widely disappeared into the kitchen.

‘Um, well-’

‘I should get back.’ Castiel interrupted, gesturing to the completely empty bookstore portion of the café.

‘Okay…’ Dean nodded. He would’ve told him ‘see you later’, but Castiel was already walking away at an alarming pace. Great. Dean had repelled him already. Instead, he took a seat in one of the corners to finish his coffee, wishing he’d gotten it to go.

It took him about 15 minutes to finish the cup. 15 minutes that he’d spent watching the café scene play out. They seemed to have a few regulars that came in waves and bright genuine smiles and stayed to trade inside jokes with both Daphne and Castiel. And even when there weren’t regulars, the atmosphere was warm and comforting, and of course the smell that often filled their apartment below was even better up here. The whole place smelled like butter, coffee, and chocolate.

As Castiel got up on a step ladder to rearrange some of the higher shelves, bringing some books down and putting some books up, Dean decided it wasn’t so bad.

***

The next couple of days proceeded in a predictable pattern. He spent his mornings reading the falsely apologetic rejection emails from the various bars and garages he’d applied to over a cup of coffee upstairs. He’d scrub off the sting of being turned down with a short drive along the coastline with his baby before calling up Sam to continue the upward trend of telling his brother nothing. Despite knowing that his brother would know exactly what to say to pull him out of the slump unemployment was dragging Dean into, he omitted it all. Then he would spend his afternoon back at Second Story devouring any one of their particularly awesome grilled sandwiches, pretending not to watch his roommate work.

‘Talking to him might be quicker.’ Dean jumped and turned to face Claire. She was working the afternoon shift with Kevin on the counter and liked taking the piss out of Dean whenever he dropped by, probably because he was the only customer that wasn’t going anywhere – what with living downstairs and all.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he tried. ‘Y-you, you go talk to him… okay.’ Dean died, ears burning red.

‘On second thought, maybe not.’ Claire laughed and collected the paid bill, pocketing the tip.

‘Shut up.’ He sank down into his seat. He wasn’t sure at what point all of his roommate’s co-workers had decided it was okay to bully him, but now it was pretty much a daily occurrence. In their defence, it was probably his fault for watching Castiel go about his day like some second-rate pervert or sad horny teenager. He couldn’t really put his finger on why he was acting like this. He barely knew the guy and it wasn’t as if he had feelings for him. That wasn’t possible.

Yes, Castiel was objectively gorgeous, but Dean had been attracted to guys before and he was never usually this tragic.

‘She’s right, you know,’ drawled a voice from behind him. It was Crowley, the only other customer who refused to be run off. The difference was nobody actually seemed to like him. Whereas Dean thought of his torment as a friendly sort of banter, the Second Story staff seemed to genuinely despise this Armani wearing man.

‘Butt-out, Crowley.’ Dean glared.

‘What?’ Crowley shrugged, ‘She is. Talking to him would definitely ruin your chances.’

Claire threw a napkin at his head.

‘In fact,’ he smirked. ‘I just changed my mind. Do it. Just, let me know when so I can watch.’

Other than the fact that he enjoyed making people squirm, Dean didn’t know much about Crowley. He imagined he was a lawyer or perhaps a businessman of sorts. He wore far too many designer suits and carried himself with far too much pride to be anything else. He exuded smarm and found each one of Dean’s emails more amusing than the last. Which is why Dean enjoyed watching Claire pick up Crowley’s half full coffee cup with Dean’s empty plate and carry it away from him.

Crowley shrugged, killing some of Dean’s amusement, ‘I’m late for a meeting anyways.’ He left a 20 under the saltshaker and got up to leave. ‘Seriously, Dean. Call me if you ever go over there.’ He waggled his eyebrows and left the store. Dean dropped his head to the table.

***

The next morning, he got his last rejection, and it was Castiel who brought over his coffee.

‘Hello, Dean,’ he said as he placed it down in front of him.

‘Good morning.’

‘Is it?'

‘What?’ Dean looked up at where his roommate was still inexplicably still standing.

‘My people skills may be rusty, Dean, but something is clearly bothering you.’ Dean blinked at him. ‘Would you like to talk about it?’

‘See, I’m actually more Warhead than Yukio.’

Castiel squinted at him, ‘I don’t understand that reference.’ Dean drank his coffee to stop himself from explaining himself further. At which point, Castiel sat down across from him.

‘Uh-um, are you allowed to-’ he gestured to his roommate, ‘…Sit?’

‘I don’t think my boss will mind.’ Castiel smiled like he’d just told the world’s funniest joke.

‘Okay…’

‘My sister, Anna, used to tell me that there are always people who want to help. That we are never alone.’ Castiel paused profoundly for a moment. ‘Of course, my brother Gabriel says that Satan’s gonna ride all our asses either way, and Balthazar thinks the answer to everything is tequila, so maybe my family isn’t the best source of wisdom.’

Dean stared at him, unable to process much past the biblical names let alone the content of his sentences. Was Castiel making a joke?

‘My point was you can talk to me.’

‘Thanks man, really, but no thanks.’

Castiel nodded, ‘You know where to find me.’

Dean finished the rest of his cup in lieu of a reply. As he went for his wallet, Castiel stopped him with a hand on his arm. ‘It’s on the house.’

He grimaced slightly, was he that obviously pitiable?

‘Thanks,’ he sighed and pushed back from the table, trying not to think of himself as a charity case or whether or not this could be classified as his roommate buying him a drink.

The moment that he was outside he regretted not taking Castiel up on his offer. He considered turning on his heel and going back inside to do just that, which… terrifying. Dean didn’t think he’d ever even thought about opening up voluntarily.

Sure, Sam could almost always poke and prod his feelings from him, and Rufus, his old captain, had always known when to bench him, known when the job was getting to him. But Dean had never told them how he was of his own volition, had never really wanted to, or thought it could help.

‘What is going on with me?’ He asked the impala as he reached where she was parked because apparently Baby was his sole confidant – and he called his roommate odd. It was sad. One day he was going to talk to his car, and it was going to answer, and Dean would have to check himself into a psychiatric hospital.

He drove for longer than he had meant to and ended up outside an unassuming looking bar instead of where he was supposed to be. It’s big wooden sign stood atop several boulders, informing him that it was in fact called ‘The Rocks’. What was it with this area and their puns? He briefly considered whether this was a dorky enough sign for his roommate to enjoy drinking here - if Castiel even drank, that was.

Dean sighed, maybe ‘Balthazar’ had a point.

Now thinking about whether Castiel would ever consider actually drinking with him, he shut the door of the impala behind him. Apparently, he was an idiot with little to no control over his consciousness. It was all he could do to deny that maybe Castiel offering to listen had rocked the boat more towards liking him than just a physical attraction. No sleeping with your roommate, Dean reminded himself as he pushed open the door to the bar.

Inside, he found himself a seat on the edge of the bar and ordered himself a double whiskey. The bar was relatively quiet which wasn’t surprising. It was only six. Everyone here were obviously regulars. A blond girl and a young guy were shouting at each other over a competitive looking game of foosball whilst an older couple chatted on a table nearby. An old-fashioned jukebox filled the bar with the sounds of the 100 top rock songs of the 70s and other than that there was a group of three men huddled around their pints in the corner. When the bartender came over with his drink, Dean downed it in one.

‘Rough day?’ Asked the man who had handed him the glass.

‘Rough month.’ The man hummed, refilling his glass.

‘Wanna talk about it?’

‘Warhead.’ He pointed at himself drawing a laugh from the bartender.

‘So, who’s your Yukio?’

Dean finished his drink again, ‘Don’t have one.’

‘Another?’

Dean shook his head. ‘Tequila.’

‘Damn, really? You’re gonna make me go downstairs before we’ve even introduced ourselves?’

Dean puffed out his cheeks and exhaled, ‘More whiskey, then.’

‘No, no,’ the bartender drummed on the table, ‘I’m going, I’m going. You just gotta tell me your name first.’

Dean considered him for a while before conceding, ‘Dean.’

‘Nice to meet you, Dean. I’m Benny.’ He winked at him, which was hilarious. ‘I'll be right back with your tequila.’

Over the next few hours, the bar filled up, but Benny made sure to keep coming back to talk to Dean and keep Dean's shot glasses full. They talked about anything and everything other than their actual lives. At one point they got into a debate about the best Batman so far. Benny was probably right with his position on Christian Bale, but Dean had a soft spot for Kevin Conroy and the animated series. Although, they both agreed that Heath Ledger got the crown when it came to the Clown Prince of Gotham.

Dean only lost sight of him for about 20 minutes the whole night. At around 11, Benny disappeared out back and was replaced by the blonde from earlier. Her name was Jo and she coaxed Dean away from the tequila with some less intoxicating but highly entertaining comet shots that Benny joined him in when he re-emerged from behind the bar, apparently off duty for the rest of the night.

About three hours later, Benny had an arm slung over his shoulder and was laughing raucously about something Dean must’ve said. They were both far too drunk to keep track of their own words and were only still sitting on their stools by way of leaning on each other. Until, of course, they inevitably did fall off their stools. Led Zeppelin’s Ramble On reached its final minute and, because robbing a bank would feel less illegal than ignoring this songs’ climax, Dean jumped up to sing along, sending him and Benny toppling to the floor.

It was at this point that Jo cut them off and sent them home.

‘Hey,’ Benny held him in place with both shoulders, both swaying. ‘If you wait here for me to grab my stuff, my place isn't too far from here.’

Now, normally he’d have said yes to a guy like Benny. He was attractive and funny, he got sarcasm and watched movies, and talking to him made Dean feel a little bit like the old him. Unfortunately, Benny did not have startling blue eyes, a penchant for awkward encounters, or whatever the fuck else made Dean trip over himself around Castiel. It was ridiculous and it made Dean miserable – not that he wasn’t already miserable.

So, instead they parted with an ‘Alright, brother. See you around.’ And a ‘Yeah, see you, Benny.’ Benny walked back behind the bar to pick up his shit, while Dean made his way for the door.

Sighing, Dean pushed his way out of the bar, into the fresh air outside, and said goodbye to Baby– because even when practically incoherent, he still talked to his car. He zipped up his jacket and began walking. He stumbled forward for a few streets, chastising himself for his moronic attraction to the man he now shared space with. Dean may be new to the whole roommate thing, but everyone knew the one golden rule: don’t get involved. He repeated it in his head like a mantra as he walked and then turned right into a random shop because he’d seen a mug in the window.

Inside was the Castiel equivalent of a room. Odd, but immediately one of Dean’s favourite places. There were reasons people called these things curiosity stores. It appeared to sell everything from occult items to collectable action figures. Crystals were dotted all over the place and comic book pages plastered the walls. The whole place smelt of old books and incense and spread of flashing monitors sat behind the counter. It was insane.

‘Can I help you, gorgeous?’ A beautiful woman decked out in AC/DC merchandise, leather, sunglasses, and a large quartz pendant appeared from behind a set of shelves. ‘Opal?’ She said, holding out the white stone she held in her hands towards Dean as she approached.

‘Um, no thank you.’ Dean coughed, ‘I was just-’

‘No, no. Of course not.’ The woman shook her head and frowned at him. She slipped off her sunglasses and stared at him with serious white eyes that couldn’t possibly see but bore into him, nonetheless. ‘Selenite!’ She grinned at him like a Cheshire cat.

‘I- what?’

‘That’s what you need; selenite.’

Dean had never been so confused. Her nonsensical words swam around his head with all the whiskey and tequila. ‘I just came in for, er, a mug…’

‘Yes, yes. Castiel does love his cat mugs.’ She waved him off with a stray hand and vanished back behind the shelves.

‘H-how did you-’ Dean faltered, getting cut off by a particularly hard wave of nausea to swallow. God. Never mind, it wasn’t worth the words, he’d rather contain his earlier sandwich.

‘Some questions,’ the shopkeeper returned and walked over to the counter, ‘Are not worth asking.’ Well, that was creepy. ‘Who cares how? What’s important is what is.’

‘Very Yoda.’ Dean commented, completely off-kilter. He wasn’t sure if it was the woman or the alcohol.

‘Very Pamela.’ She corrected. He just nodded; Dean had never felt more lost.

‘Life’s a maze.’ Pamela grinned.

‘What? Seriously, how are you-’ Pamela raised an eyebrow and he stopped talking. He really hoped she would stop with the psychic act; it was giving him the heebie-jeebies. Pamela turned her attention towards the register.

‘Hurry up, won’t you?’

‘What?’ Dean said again because honestly, what was happening?

Dean opened his mouth to call her a crazy woman, but she cut him off, looking at him like he was drooling all over her carpet, ‘The mug.’ Oh.

He turned and fetched the mug from the window. It was painted blue with a fluffy cartoon cat hanging upside down saying: ‘YOU HAVE CAT TO BE KITTEN ME’ and Dean was sure Castiel would love it.

‘He will.’

Stop that, Dean thought as he walked over to her.

‘Shan’t.’ She smirked, plucking the mug from her hands, and zapping it with her scanner. ‘$3.45.'

Dean squinted at her as he passed over his card. She passed it back to him with the mug and small translucent pebble. It was white and polished, and he looked at Pamela questioning.

‘Selenite, threw that in there for free.’ She patted him on the shoulder. ‘Now, say bye-bye and exit out the door you came through.’

‘But- I,’ Dean shook his head, ‘Bye.’

‘Bye, Dean.’

***

By the time he got back to the flat, he could feel his pulse in his face. The last few drinks had definitely been a bad idea. Dean could feel his organs fuming inside him and was pretty sure if he didn’t pass out within the hour, he’d spend the next day cleaning up the mess. He groaned.

Second Story’s lights were still on, probably Meg just finishing up for the night, but Dean had no desire to be bullied tonight.

After pressing his face into their front door for several minutes, he stepped back to check his pockets, breathing deeply through his nose. With one hand cradling the cat mug to his chest, he managed to dig out his keys. He then proceeded to fumble with the lock, drop them completely, and, in a failed attempt to catch them mid fall, pushed them through the letterbox. Fuck. The keys clinked together nonplussed as they met the floorboards on the other side.

Dean sat down. Maybe he could just sit out here all night. It was either that, or Meg, or potentially Castiel if he started knocking on this door.

Nope, no, definitely not. If Castiel saw him like this, he’d probably have to move all over again. To Meg it was – even if it was a slight risk that she’d leave him out here.

Meg was an old friend of Castiel’s, that for reasons unbeknownst to Dean, he kept around, and other people seemed to like. Sure, she was sarcastic and biting, which should place her in the gets-along-with column of the people-Dean-knows list, but she was also relentlessly amused by Dean’s Castiel-related awkwardness and relentlessly mean.

She picked up the night shift at the café. After 8pm on the weekends and until about 2am, it operated as a bar in its own right. Dean didn’t think it ever got particularly busy. In fact, it usually seemed to be occupied by the same closed group of people each week. They’d arrive just when Dean would hear Castiel coming downstairs and leave several hours later after several obnoxiously loud rounds of drinks. It didn’t really bother Dean, he’d slept through worse, but he still thought it was a little rude, especially whenever it became obvious that they were making noise for the sake of making noise.

As Dean climbed the stairs (literally climbed, using his hands to help), he was suddenly glad for how late he’d stayed out. The street was quiet, meaning he wouldn’t have to deal with any of the late-night customers with his head pounding like it was. He peered through the glass. Meg was nowhere to be seen. Fucking great. Dean began to knock.

After several minutes without a reply, Dean began to bang on the door slightly. Mainly because he wasn’t sure he’d make it back down the stairs, so Meg had become his only option.

‘Hey! Meg, open up!’ he tried again, yelling this time. Still nothing. Dean gave up and collapsed to the floor, propping himself up against the iron railings. He closed his eyes and felt the earth move beneath him. Why does he do the things he does? He sighed.

‘Dean?’ Oh fuck.

Dean looked up and confirmed his suspicions. Meg did not have a man’s deep gravelly voice, nor was she doing a brilliant Castiel impression, nor was she actually there at all.

‘You’re not Meg.’

‘No…’ Castiel looked down at him from the doorway, forehead wrinkled with concern. He was wearing a different pyjama sweater than usual. This one had a picture of a tortoise on the front.

‘Good. Good.’ Dean repeated, mainly to himself, feeling sleepy now. ‘You’re nicer anyways.’

‘You’re inebriated.’

Dean looked at him in a way he hoped accurately conveyed his request for his roommate to use smaller words.

‘Drunk,’ Castiel corrected. ‘You’re drunk.’

Oh. ‘Yes.’

He watched as Castiel opened the door wider and leant down to pick him up off the floor. Dean still had the mug cradled under his arm which he hugged closer, both to protect it and to conceal it because it was a surprise – and also a little embarrassing.

‘Smaller words.’ He said as Castiel guided him inside onto one of the sofas, because it was a good point that was worth making. ‘Like Cas.’ He said because he was drunk and an idiot. ‘I’m gonna call you Cas, from now on.’ Dean decided.

‘Okay…’ Cas just looked worried.

‘I’m fine!’ He reassured, ‘See!’ He said, lifting his hand to his face and missing his nose completely.

The mug dropped onto his lap causing Cas to look at it oddly.

‘Oh, I got you a new mug.’ Dena looked at it too. ‘Surprise?’

Cas picked up the mug and examined it, breaking out into a gummy smile. ‘I love it.’ He looked at Dean solemnly, ‘Thank you, Dean. This means a lot.’

Dean swallowed, ‘Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it. My money’s got to run out sometime soon.’ Castiel frowned again. Dammit. He liked Cas’s smile.

‘It's fine.’ Dean slurred slightly and patted his roommate's knee as if that was at all convincing. ‘I’m sure I’ll get a job eventually. Maybe I’ll go back to being a firefighter.’ Now Dean was frowning, and he was horrified to realise he was about ten seconds away from tears. ‘Or maybe… Walmart?’ he sighed and sank backwards.

‘You could work here.’ Dean looked at Cas. ‘I mean, if you, if you wanted to, that is.’

‘I don’t know.’ Dean ran a hand over his face and poked himself in the eye. ‘I don’t know if your boss would even like me. No one else hiring seems to.’

Cas laughed, ‘He likes you.’

‘What? How do you know?’ Dean blinked owlishly at him and then narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

‘Because he’s me. I’m the boss.’ Cas explained, propping Dean back up who had begun to slide off the couch. ‘I own the cafe.’

‘You?’

‘Me.’

‘You own the café?’

‘Yes.’ Castiel kept a solid hand around Dean’s arm. ‘Would you like the job?’

‘I don’t know anything about books.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘Or tea.’

Cas smiled at him, ‘You’ll learn.’

Dean nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay.’

A few moments of silence passed. It was nice.

‘Hey Cas,’ Dean whispered as he began to drift off.

‘Yes?’

‘If I asked you out, would you say yes?’ He closed his eyes and waited for an answer. Cas was quiet for a long time and Dean wondered if he was just going to ignore the question, which, mortifying.

‘Dean?’ Dean held his breath. ‘Ask me tomorrow.’ Oh.

Dean smiled. Okay, yes, he would do that.

‘Good night, Dean.’

Night Cas, Dean thought but was already falling asleep.

#castiel #supernatural #dean winchester #destiel #fanfic #kat writes some shit #waywardwriters #mine #coffee shop #bookstore #alternate universe #crowley #daphne allen #claire novak #benny lafitte #jo harvelle #sam winchester #userstarry #spnvalentinesgiftexchange

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babygirlwolverine · 3 years ago

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hiiii my lovelies! welcome to the new era! <3

cannot believe i managed to snag this url! i hope yall love it as much as i do! for now, it’s time to retire the starry theme, and to start a new chapter with this angelic era. goodbye starry night, hello angels!

✨ fallingstarsdeancas (prev starrynightdeancas) >>> angelscas 🌈

now tracking #angelscas (make sure to use angelscas with an ‘s’)

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proteus-no · 3 years ago

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Rating: T

Ships: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Summary: Dean loves Cas. He loves the geeky little angel a lot. Too much, some might say. After they yoink Castiel back from the Empty, the two have been living in domestic bliss. The only problem is Cas doesn't know he's in a relationship with Dean.

Oops! I accidentally wrote 6.5k for my Valentine's day gift for @icarusdeancas. Hope you enjoy!

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@spnvalentines @fallingstarsdeancas @acklesology

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arcticfox007 · 3 years ago

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Some Things I’ll Never Say

Happy Valentine’s Day @official-wayward-herondale! While this isn’t a direct 15x18 fix-it I hope it’s close enough. I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy your day!

Thanks to @fallingstarsdeancas and @acklesology for arranging this gift exchange, I appreciate all the time you two put into this.

@nguyenxtrang you are the absolute best, thanks for beta-ing this story on such short notice!!!

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Some Things I’ll Never Say (But I’ll Show You Anyway) - read it on AO3!

In the beginning, Dean hadn’t coped well at all. He avoided Sam, he resented Jack, and he drank himself into oblivion at every available opportunity. Then Jody showed up with Claire in tow. She just shook her head sadly at Dean and proceeded to shove him towards the shower insisting that he clean himself up. Something about the deep and conflicted pain in Claire’s eyes spurred him into movement.

Dean did as Jody asked and was surprised how much better he felt after washing away days’ worth of sweat and grime. There was still a jagged chasm in his chest, but at least he could breathe without reeking of his own despair. He allowed himself to sink into the sensation of scalding water pounding on his skin, but without the aid of alcohol Dean couldn’t prevent his mind from summoning up the teary blue eyes of his dead best friend to haunt him. Screaming, Dean smashed his fist into the wall until it bled. He sank to the bottom of the tub wishing desperately to just stop hurting.

“Dammit Cas, why? Why did you have to leave me again? Why do I keep having to see you die? Fuck, why is Jack willing to bring back everyone else, but leave his own Dad to rot in the Empty? Do you still hear me when I pray to you, you bastard? Why haven’t you come back to me?” Dean’s rant was lost in the pouring rush of running water.

Eventually the sound of Jody pounding on the door reminded Dean that he was still standing in the shower long after he’d cleaned himself up. Dragging himself into clean clothing, Dean’s anger continued to burn, his frustration at Cas growing and holding the sorrow at bay long enough to listen to Sam, Claire, and Jody as they told him what they’d managed to learn about the Empty.

“What difference does it make that the Empty can’t hold human souls? Cas ain’t human and there’s nothing we can do now that he’s already been taken? Isn’t that what Jack said when he refused to help? That there’s no way to get to Cas now since he made a deal with the Empty in the first place?”

“Will you shut the hell up and listen?” Claire looked supremely unimpressed with Dean’s attitude as she continued talking so he didn’t have a chance to respond. “When I was Castiel’s vessel for a short time I knew what he did, or at least what he noticed at that time. Obviously, angel thoughts aren’t really meant to be understood by us mere mortals, but I do remember you Dean. You, uh, sort of called to Castiel, despite his dickishness at the time. I think he imprinted on you or something?”

“Exactly, remember how he said you shared a profound bond Dean? I think he imbued you with some of his grace when he pulled you out of Hell.” Sam sounded all too chipper considering Dean’s mood, but then Dean recalled the handprint that used to be raised on his arm, and the bloody handprint that echoed that when Cas sacrificed himself to the Empty.

“I mean, sure, I’d buy that, but what does that have to do with saving Cas?” Dean had no idea where this conversation was going, but he was wary of the hope that was starting to build up inside of him.

“Dean, Sam and Claire think they can use the grace in your body to tether your soul to Cas. If he’s intrinsically bound to a human soul - ” Dean jumped in cutting Jody off.

“The Empty can’t keep him!”

“Yeah man, exactly. The only tricky part is distinguishing Cas’ grace from Michael since he would have left a trace behind as well. Cas’ should be more dominant in your system from what Claire remembers though. She said that her Dad didn’t call to Cas, more that she could just tell he was a vessel.” Claire grimaced at Sam’s speech and shrugged off Jody’s consoling shoulder pat. Dean appreciated that Claire was willing to help, despite her complicated past with Castiel.

“Is there any way to pull what’s left of Michael’s grace out of me, like you guys did with Gadreel?” Sam scowled at the suggestion.

“That’s a terrible idea Dean, if we kill you, we can’t do any of this.”

Dean nodded, conceding Sam’s point.

“What about Jack?” Dean’s lips thinned at Jody’s suggestion.

“Yeah right, he already made it clear that he’s perfectly fine letting Cas rot in the Empty.” Dean almost fell out of his chair at the appearance of Jack in the Bunker.

“Dean, I never said I wanted Castiel to ‘rot in the Empty’.” Dean’s heart fluttered at Jack’s air quotes. He missed Cas so badly, but maybe taking out his pain on their kid was a dick move. He was just so much like Cas, it hurt sometimes. “I’m certainly willing to purge you of Michael’s grace, if you’d like me to do so.”

“I’m sorry kid, I keep doing things wrong with you. I know you want him back too.” Jack gave Dean a small smile. “Yeah Jack, I’d really appreciate you getting rid of whatever shit Michael left behind."

---

Purging Michael’s grace hadn’t hurt at all. Pulling bits of Dean’s soul infused with Cas’ grace like it was some sort of spiritual taffy felt like being mauled by a fucking Wendigo. Jack had left after helping with Michael’s grace; he had said they were more likely to succeed without his presence as the Empty was too familiar with him. The more they had surprise on their side, the better.

Sam somehow convinced Rowena to help, which was apparently a good thing. Sam insisted that she had much more experience with manipulating souls (which Dean couldn’t really argue with her resume in that area) and would be their best chance at stretching his soul into the Empty while using the small amount of grace embedded in Dean as a kind of locator spell. The problem was that Dean was having a hard damn time with the sensation of stretching his soul across other planes of existence. Sam had told him that he had to stay conscious because they needed him to pray to Cas. They all hoped Dean’s prayers would help the grace find its original source.

C’mon Cas, please hear me this time. I need you to call your grace back to you. We found a way to get to you, but we need your help. I need you to accept what’s being offered. Please Cas, please come home to us. To me.

Dean’s prayers became more and more desperate. What if Cas refused to accept Dean’s soul? Cas died believing that Dean didn’t love him back, at least not in the same way. What if the self-sacrificing asshole wouldn’t take a bond with Dean’s soul if he didn’t think Dean would ever return his feelings? Dean began to panic as the pain increased.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice barely cut through the fog of pain, but Dean tried to nod in response. “Rowena says that you should be close, that the locator spell is working. Keep trying to reach him, she doesn’t know how long a human soul can infiltrate the Empty and go unnoticed.”

Castiel, Cas, I need you to listen to me. Take my fucking soul already, Rowena can’t keep up this spell forever. Please Cas, I don’t know what’s going through your stubborn angel brain right now, but I swear I want this, I want to bind my soul to your grace. I need you back with me, I need you to stay with me. Come back to me Cas, I refuse to lose you again. I’m begging you Cas, accept my soul, let me bring you home.

Dean felt the pain increase and knew he was on the edge of passing out when he felt a response. A cooling sensation, tingling like when Cas would heal him, rushed through Dean as he felt a wrenching and a flood of what he could only describe as love. The feeling was even more overwhelming than the pain had been, and Dean couldn’t hold on to consciousness any longer.

---

The next thing Dean felt was fingers running through his hair. The sensation was soothing and if Dean was dreaming, he didn’t care to wake up.

“Hello Dean. I know you’re awake.” Dean’s eyes flew open at the deep and beloved voice of his best friend. Greeted by familiar blue eyes, Dean tried to throw his arms around his angel only to fall back onto his pillow light-headed and dizzy. Cas chuckled softly.

“Cas?”

“Please take care Dean, you’ve been through quite an ordeal for a human, and it will take time to recover. Unfortunately, I can’t heal you from the effects of binding your soul to my grace.” Cas’ brows furrowed in concern as he resumed combing his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Yeah, okay but, you’re really here? It worked?” Dean’s voice was almost a plea, he didn’t think he’d survive losing Cas again, even if this was all some sort of elaborate hallucination.

“I’m really here Dean. Your claim on me supersedes the Empty’s. I’m yours officially now, always, and in whatever way you will have me.” Cas’ smile was too sad, and Dean felt like he was missing something.

“Why aren’t you happy Cas?”

“I’m sorry Dean, I am happy, I just feel like you’ve bound yourself to me when you could have had so much more in your life. I wanted you to have the chance to find all the love you deserve, to find real happiness for once, and now you’re stuck with a tie to me that can never be undone.” Can turned away as he spoke, as if afraid of Dean’s reaction.

“Cas.” Dean pulled on Cas’ sleeve and dragged him down onto the bed. If Dean couldn’t sit up, then the angel could lay down with Dean. “Cas, I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear. When you said there was one thing you wanted that you couldn’t have… you were wrong. You can have me. I’ve been yours for so long now. I’m sorry I never told you, I’m sorry you died thinking I didn’t feel the same way. Dammit Cas, all I’ve ever wanted was for you to stay with me. So please, take me, take all of me, because you can have what you want, and I intend to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.

Cas seemed speechless in light of Dean’s words, but his eyes were brimming with the same love that had sent him to the Empty in the first place. The angel gently rubbed his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone, and leaned in tentatively, as if still expecting a rejection. Dean couldn’t stand it any longer. Maybe he hadn’t found a way to squeeze three little words out, but he could show Cas how he felt. He surged forward to close the gap and melted into Cas’ lips. As he poured every loving feeling he couldn’t put into words into the kiss, Dean knew that he would try every day of the rest of his life to show his angel all the ways he adored and cherished him.

“I’m yours, Cas.” Dean whispered the words in between breathless kisses.

“As I am for you Dean. Forever.”

Against all odds Dean Winchester was now truly saved, and Castiel had found a true home in the arms of the man he loved more than Heaven.

#spnvalentinesgiftexchange #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #spn fic #15x20 fix it #DEANCAS #dean winchester #castiel #fluff #the empty #PROFOUND BOND #dean and cas in love #arcticfox007writes

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