and twas here that a new friendship/rivalry/obsession???? was born
[ID: digital art of Joel and Iskall looking up at Perry the platypus on top of Joel's torii gate in front of his base. Joel and Iskall's faces are shown in the bottom corners in the foreground - they are highlighted in pink, as is Perry. Joel's base in the background is dusky colored and a bit faded and blurry. End ID]
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cas had texted and said he’d be back at the bunker that night, and dean had stayed up until almost 3am waiting for the angel. when cas hadn’t walked through the bunker door, dean had to drag himself to bed before he passed out on the war table.
he didn’t sleep for long though, waking up just after 6am to check his phone. no messages from cas. was it too soon to start worrying?
making his way to the kitchen for a very strong cup of black coffee, dean shuffled past the bag in hallway while he rubbed blearily at his eyes. it took several long seconds before dean realized he’d almost tripped over cas’ overnight bag and he quickly backtracked and made a beeline for cas’ room.
the room was empty, no sign of cas’ current trenchcoat or of the angel anywhere.
frowning, dean wandered the hallways, searching for any signs of cas. but there was nothing. the bunker was quiet. empty. not even sam was awake yet.
convincing himself that the overnight bag had always been there and he’d just forgotten because he was tired, dean trudged back towards the kitchen by cutting through the library.
and he froze, mid-step.
slumped, lying curled up between two of the chairs at the table, was a sleeping angel using his trenchcoat as a pillow against the hard wooden seats.
a sleeping angel who was bundled up under dean’s old hoodie; the clothing item which usually held a permanent place in the backseat of the impala. the same hoodie that had gone missing a week ago.
dean’s heart stuttered in his chest.
his feet carried him gently across the library and he found himself reaching out and brushing a lock of hair off of cas’ forehead. the hood of the jacket was tucked up under cas’ chin, almost as if the angel had been burying his face in the cotton material, but the rest of it was slipping off and threatening to fall onto the floor.
breath catching in his throat, dean softly readjusted the hoodie and wrapped it around cas’ shoulders. cas let out a content sigh in his sleep, and dean suddenly felt weak in the knees.
cas had taken dean’s jacket with him when he’d left the bunker last week. and now, cas was using his hoodie as a blanket. a concept that years ago dean would’ve sworn up and down that cas would never understand because angels didn’t have feelings. yet, here cas was, carrying around dean’s old clothes, wearing his heart on dean’s worn sleeves.
smiling to himself, dean quietly made his way back to the kitchen to make honey tea for cas and a pot of coffee. he was going to need the caffeine courage to show cas that this was mutual.
as the coffee brewed and the tea steeped, dean snuck back into cas’ room and collected the one thing he was missing. wrapping one of cas’ old trenchcoats around his shoulders, dean was finally ready to put his own heart onto cas’ sleeve.
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