#sheya shall deliver

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Smith & Smith

There are a few things everyone knows at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc.

The coffee bagels are inedible, Adler will fake-fire someone on your first day, and you do not hit on Dean Smith, Senior VP.

(Not that Sam wants to - gross. But apparently it's salient information, because it's the third ever text message Gabriel Milton (HR) sends him. Maybe because he'd just joined as Smith's intern, Sam reasons. Well, to hell with stereotypes. Smith is going to be nothing more than a boss - or mentor, if he'd so be willing; Sam's heard of him, and he's kind of a genius after all. That's it.

Plus, Sam's in love with, and engaged to a nurse thankyouverymuch.)

And in any case, it's not like he'd needed a memo.

Smith is obvious enough.

Obvious, with his packed lunches and secretive screensavers. Obvious, in the way he unfailingly redoes his hair before leaving, cause he's "picking Cas up first" - and with his bright smile on Mondays, because "Cas only has Sundays off".

He grins non-stop, the half hour before lunch, and then spends it holed up in his office entirely - and if Sam returns early from his own break, he can't not catch the unicorn laughs emerging from there, glass walls be damned.

Once, in fact, a package got misdelivered, and Sam returned from lunch to a bouquet on his desk, labelled on a recycled paper card with a pickup line so ridiculous - wordplay on 'honey', in fact - that it almost verified the domesticity singlehandedly.

Dean Smith is married.

There can be absolutely no other explanation.

*

As days pass, Sam's workload increases, but he's learning what he's here to learn and is grateful for it.

He also notices him and Dean grow into a friendship of sorts - finding common ground in football, not liking pineapples on pizza, and having a Navy dad - and just like that, mentions of the latter's wife start coming up more casually.

Nothing unprofessional, or overshared - just a, "you know who eats burgers like no one's business? Cas." When he brings Sam a couple of burgers back after an assignment runs late into his lunch break - or even a, "Cas's brothers are dicks," when Sam goes into his office to submit a report from Sales, and finds him, as he rarely does, texting.

As long as Dean isn't dismissive of the work Sam puts in, and he never is, Sam's fine with it. To be honest, it's kind of refreshing to see a guy be a total goner for his wife. And he is - Sam can tell from his heart eyes, if not the fondness that envelopes his voice whenever he speaks of her.

It makes him happy as well, cause he's worked here about five weeks now, and it's enough to see that Dean deserves to be as happy as 'Cas' makes him.

All things considered, Sam's definitely getting used to it.

Until one friday, when Dean shows up at nine am and declares that Cas will be picking him up today.

"There's a strike at the library."

"I see." Sam returns, eyebrows raised.

"Isn't that ridiculous? Libraries going on a strike?" Dean grins. "It's like, you know, a book-march."

Sam fights the whelming urge to bitchface.

"Stop that." Dean swats at the air. Sam hasn't said anything, so he bites his cheek. "You're basically dying to roll your eyes. Friggin' take my jokes for granted." Sam shakes his head, suppressing a smile. "No, seriously. Go on, do it. Didn't stop Cas either."

At that, Sam breaks.

Mirrors Dean's grin from before he'd put on the mock-offended glare, and Dean soon joins in.

"I'll just save my fantastic sense of humor for later."

"For Cas?"

"Nah, someone who can appreciate it -" Dean cuts himself short. "Hell, who am I kidding? Yeah, for Cas."

Sam grins wider.

"I'll be leaving at five today." Dean informs him, before disappearing into his office. Seeing as the office hours are nine to five in the first place, that isn't off the norm, but since Dean finishes late almost regularly, it's probably worth pointing out.

This way or that - Sam knows he's going to be waiting for it to be five almost as eagerly as Dean.

He's heard so much about this woman. There's almost an air of mystery surrounding her at this point. All the facts Dean's ever dropped are cloaked with something close to fictional, because Sam doesn't know her at all.

And now he's finally going to meet her.

It's not like all he does, the entire day, is think about it. But it does make writing the reports for, and inputting April 2020's data into the server that much more of a fast process - since time flies until it's five.

And then, relatively, decides to stop.

Sam stares at the elevator.

He's done with his day - prepared to leave after Dean does, though definitely not before.

Waiting, he realizes, that he's formed something of a mental image. She's blonde in his imagination - probably a generic 5'5 or 6. Blue-eyed, cause Dean's mentioned that at least twice. And not to be creepy, but he assumes she'd be pretty too, cause his boss isn't exactly what he'd describe ugly.

So without meaning to, Sam's got an eye out for someone who fits the mold.

First man in, at two past five, is short and stocky. Second is Mrs. D'souza, a receptionist on the seventh floor.

Third and fourth are interns.

Fifth is a trenchcoated guy, squarer than Sam, with a wonky tie.

Sam sighs.

It's almost ten past five - and tardiness really isn’t his thing. Or Dean’s, for that matter. Staring intently in the direction of his elevator, he’s about to start getting righteously annoyed on Dean’s behalf when there’s a tap on his shoulder.

Sam swivels in his chair, taken by surprise - and slowly, his eyes widen.

Dean’s arm is slung about the fifth guy’s shoulders, grin directed entirely towards him. And he - Jesus, he - is six feet tall, trenchcoated, and wearing a tentative smile as he looks down at Sam.

Blue eyes complete the picture - plus a five o’clock shadow which never came up - and Sam’s head reels as he finally pieces everything together.

“Dean!” He exclaims, and it must count as a greeting, because it can’t really count as oh-my-god-Cas-is-a-man.

“Hey!” Dean beams. “Figured you should meet Cas.” And turning to Cas, “That’s Sam. My prodigy, basically.”

The heart-eyes have never been more obvious. 

Sam’s an idiot.

He can’t even grin like he’s supposed to - earning himself half an eyeroll form Dean - because he’s trying to figure out how he hadn’t figured it out yet.

“It’s good to meet you, Sam.” Cas says - and the fact that it’s the lowest he’s ever heard a voice go, makes him refocus enough that he can respond.

“You too, Cas.”

Dean’s still beaming, and finally, finally caught up with himself, Sam grins back.

He’s an idiot.

Cas just smiles wider.

(Well, one thing he got right. He’s definitely pretty. But measured against a scale of everything else he got wrong - there’s a long way to go.)

“Okay so,” Dean declares, far more chipper than usual. Someone could just’ve painted smitten across his face, really. “We should go. You probably guessed this but Cas isn’t the biggest fan of where I work.”

“You have a treadmill desk, Dean.”

“And I don't see you complaining about my stamina.” Dean throws back, and their eyes lock in a silent stare - heavy enough, that neither notices Sam looking away as subtly as he can. He’s not really supposed to witness them flirting - misdelivered packages asides.

Thankfully, the stare-off breaks when Cas points out that they were leaving.

And to the backdrop of Dean grumbling about Cas’s hatred for his job, Dean puts on his overcoat - well, he hands Cas his briefcase so he can properly do so, and then Cas just holds onto it - and they say their goodbyes to Sam and take off, walking close enough to brush arms all the way to the elevator.

Once they’re out of sight, Sam slumps in his chair, scrubbing his face with an incredulous laugh. 

Of course Dean Smith is married. And of course, Cas is his husband.

[low-sodium-studyblr]

I exist!!

It's been done, @telefunkies and @piratecherricola!! I present to you my studyblr.

And more importantly, pens & coffee:

(am i doing it right, guys?)

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Yeah we know cas randomly pops up in Dean's lap while he's driving Baby in heaven and cas Says: "Hello Dean."

Dean: "Cas we talked about this.." But instead of finishing it they kiss

friend, canon wishes it were as valid as you are.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Hi, I had a really sweet moment with my bf the other night where he basically paused a movie he really wanted to watch because I fell asleep in the middle of it and while I won't ask you to make Destiel do the same, could you just have dean being obsessed with a movie and cas being the sarcastic awesome lil shit he is, in all the domestic glory of all your writings. Extra extra extra points for it being a cartoon. Love😍😍😍

"Dude, I've been waiting for this all day." Dean breathes out, hands reaching out for his Cas, as he enters their bedroom after Dean. Cas lets his hands land on his waist, and sways closer. "Counting the frigging seconds, I swear."

"You can't really believe you could count each second," Castiel returns. A hint of a smirk plays up the pettiness. That's his angel's I'm-an-angel tone. "Though I know I could."

"Fine, you win." Dean rolls his eyes. "Bragging rights on the greater pining."

"Longer."

Dean huffs at the ceiling.

"Is this where I say, length doesn't matter?" Cas asks, managing to make it sound earnest. It's all in the innocence of his eyes. Twinkling, friggin' blue.

Sometimes it's ridiculous how much Dean loves him.

"You know it's size, and you know what else? Shut your face." Dean throws back, leaving Cas's sides, to move in the direction of the TV. "Did you get the movie?"

"Of course, Dean. I'm not an imbecile." Cas hands him the DVD, and Dean slips it in, taking the remote as he retreats to wait on the edge of the bed. Cas follows, but instead of joining Dean, he gets on the bed properly, making himself comfortable, and leaning back against the bedframe.

Dean turns around to glance, when Cas lets out a perfect sigh of pleasure as he stretches his legs, clearly relaxed by the bonelessness of his slumped shoulders.

"Sure you're not. But comfort princess? That you've got nailed."

"I don't understand that reference." Cas informs him lazily.

"Don't try to be cute."

"I -"

"You know you do, buddy." Dean tells the TV matter-of-factly, silencing the argument from the other end of the room. Thankfully, the screen chooses that moment to buzz to life, and as colorful animations show up, Dean hits pause.

Stands up, and drags himself to the same side of the bed as Cas climbed in from.

"Shoes, you always remember to take off. Ugly-ass trenchcoats? Figures you'd forget." Dean mutters, not harshly, as he kicks off his own shoes, and slides in next to Cas.

Immediately, Cas scoots closer, and in spite of the bulky layers they've both got on (of course, especially Cas), Dean puts an arm around him, and most of the bickering is lost in a stare of heavier magnitudes, and what remains melts away when they tilt their heads and lean in.

Meet in the middle, and Cas's hand comes up to cradle his friggin' face, and they breathe intermittently in sync. Dean'd take this wonderful familiarity over the tension of a first, anyday. Not like the spark's ever dimmed. Kissing Cas will never get old.

"- Mmhm."

Dean's the one who pulls away first - which frankly comes as a surprise to everyone involved, but that's just the way it goes.

"I thought you'd been waiting for this all day." Cas reminds him neutrally, hand on Dean's, as he holds the remote on his thigh. A smile's trying to pull up the corners of his lips, but it'd ruin the deadpan, so he's keeping its ambitions subdued.

"Exactly." Dean raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and they hold the gaze for a beat before Dean leans in for one last peck. And proceeds to turns his attention to the TV, hitting play. "This."

Cas lets out a laugh, turning to look at the screen as well, and tucking himself closer to the warmth, to make the best of the current adversity - stranded under an arm, as he is.

"By the way." Dean pauses, not even an entire minute in. "Don't you dare pretend you were thinking of a different this."

"Oh, no." He wasn't going to - he knows Dean too well to know he'd see right through it, but it's a fun thought. "God forbid I imagine the love of my life was yearning for me." He shrugs exaggeratedly.

"I'll yearn for you all night if you ask me to, sweetheart." Dean winks, because of course, he does.

"All day tomorrow?"

"Down to every second."

"I'm such a lucky boyfriend." Cas states out loud, and Dean snorts. "Play the movie, Dean." He adds. "We've talked enough, and you've clearly longed for Scooby Doo since a very long day."

"Damn straight."

And he does play it again, beaming, and the two of them cuddle through most of it until Cas announces he's tired and rolls off of Dean to sleep, and Dean ends up deciding to do the same a few minutes later, because while Cas may not enjoy it as much as him, Dean knows for a fact he likes it too.

("Well, I suppose there's something charming about the 'gang's' friendship, which takes the mind away from the unsubtly repetitive plotlines."

That's Castielspeak for 'I won't hide the remote'.)

So Dean rewinds a few minutes, carefully committing the time remaining to his memory before turning all the lights off and slotting himself behind Cas, arm slung around his middle. He practically remembers the entire movie, obviously remembers the end, though that hadn't stopped him from craving a rewatch earlier - but it doesn't matter. Not more than this.

He'd rather watch it with Cas, anyways.

*

Hi!! Awwwhh, that's really sweet of him. So, uh, I received this around one am, and decided it'd be a good idea to launch headfirst into some fluff, but anyways ~ I hope you enjoyed, dear anon!! Have a wonderful day.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

It's Valentine's day, sam has gone out with eileen, dean and cas are stuck in the bunker without dates or anything to do ...... The air conditioning stops working, it gets real hot and sweaty and they both decide they are wearing too many layers .... and whatever ensues I'll leave it up to you.

here you go, anon: (I had to retype this, and reedit this, with the help of the amazing @3dg310rdsupreme so like. just remember to curse tumblr before you start reading, cause that’s why it took ridiculously long:)

***

“So?” Dean raises his eyebrows at Cas, starting to walk down the stairs with an angel by his side. They’ve just finished waving Sam and Eileen off to their date - which is exactly what it sounds like; he stood in the doorway, and Cas smiled from the doorway, until Sam’s car disappeared down the road. “Dinner?”

“Of course.” Cas nods. 

He’s not going to eat, but there’s a little something called company. Dean doesn’t want to eat alone. And what’s more, Dean’s even going to set up a plate for him. He started doing so a while back, cause otherwise it’s just like Cas is there to watch him.

And be it eating or sleeping - that’s always weird.

Walking all the way to the kitchen feels like trekking towards the centre of the Earth. Dean scrubs his face in annoyance, exhaling impatiently. He’s supposed to get used to it. 

It’s really hot. And they’re underground, in a windowless bunker. A bunker with a broken air-conditioner - it’s ancient; so that’s justifiable, was the general consensus, but Dean’s willing to bet it all boils down to their exceptional Chuck-induced bad luck, and Fortuna just wasn’t a good enough godly mechanic.

Or maybe she never anticipated that heroes could get hot, too. Sweating is for the weak and the transient - or some shit. Dean can practically picture her sneer.

Jesus, he hates her.

“Do you need help?” Cas says, once they’re in the kitchen. Dean turns around to blink at him, while he returns to the present. Cas manages to make it sound like were Dean to say yes, Cas would actually help him prepare food. 

Now, Cas is good for a lot of stuff. Strong, strategic, trustable instincts. Brave. But he isn’t worth shit in the kitchen. Dean isn’t really sure if Cas knows that but he hopes, for his sake, that he does. 

Yet, it’s an earnest question, ridiculous or not, so Dean earnestly shakes his head in response. “I made dinner while the rest of you were busy helping Sam choose a corset.”

It’s the kind of hot where Dean’s automatically surly. Sure, he generally is too - but right now, he doesn’t even have to try. 

“It was his shirt.” Cas corrects, simply, and Dean rolls his eyes at the walls as he turns around to get plates. “My advice was to go with the pecan.”

“Was he wearing a pie?” Dean throws back, dryly. He’s got the plates. Now he puts them on the table, and turns to fetch spoons. Cas is still standing, because of course he is. “Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Pecan’s a shade of brown.” Cas states for the record, and Dean’s getting tired of Cas not going along with his lines. 

And he’s really getting tired of the goddamn heat. 

“Too bad. Now I want dessert. Way to ruin burgers, Cas.” Dean snaps, and Cas looks a little startled - and would you look at that. Even Cas is sweating. There’s beads of sweat on his forehead, and his coat seems even more uncomfortable than usual. 

Suck it, Fortuna. Real heroes sweat. 

“You know what?” Dean mutters, mostly to himself. He really is trying to be less of a jerk - but he can’t seem to help it. It’s Valentine’s day, and it’s hot. So he decides to stop talking, and takes off his jacket, a deep blue leather utility, and shucks it away on a counter. 

Cas seems to find this interesting, his eyes following Dean around the room; so then Dean does the first thing that comes to mind. 

He walks over to Cas, and holds his hand out. 

Cas stares at it, like he’s trying to figure out the purpose of its existence. Dean helps him, because he’s awesome like that.

“Your coat.” 

Because why the fuck not?

“Oh.” Cas unstiffs - Dean isn’t kidding, that’s an actual thing he can do, okay - and almost rewards Dean with a smile. Just like that, he’s wriggling out of his trenchcoat, the sleeves not clinging to his jacket because apparently that only happens to him. Or probably because the coat classifies as oversized, even after all these years. 

Once he’s removed it, Cas folds it from the middle like he’s never folded a coat before, and hands it to Dean. 

“Great. Let’s sit down.” Dean tells him, putting his coat away on the same slab where he’s deposited his own. When he turns around, Cas is sitting, and has folded his arms on the table. The bunker lights, like his eyes, linger on Cas’s jacket. 

To be fair, he doesn’t usually get to do this - because Cas doesn’t usually take off his trench. Guy’s emotionally attached to it or something. 

But he looks - well, so much better without it. Obviously, Dean’s not referring to the way the black makes him look broader, or the buttons draw attention to the suit’s tapered waist. He just looks a lot more comfortable, compared to before. 

Speaking of. 

It’s still so fucking hot. 

“Dean,” Cas begins randomly, once they’re both sitting. Dean’s about to start eating but he stops at Cas’s voice, soft and unsure. “I need to ask you something.”

For some reason, Dean swallows. “Yeah?”

“It is Valentine’s day, after all.” Cas justifies preemptively, and Dean looks up at him. 

“So?”

“Is this a date?” Cas finally asks, blue eyes boring into Dean’s, something profound in his words.

Dean pretty much stops thinking, as if on cue. “What? No.” He gets up. He shouldn’t have gotten up. He’s already up. “Is this about dinner? Jesus, Cas,” He hopes he sounds exasperated, he’s trying to. “Hell, is this about me taking your coat before you sit? It’s burning up, man, what do you expect me to do?”

Cas stands up too, wordlessly. 

He looks like he’d still like an answer. He looks like he might even repeat the question. 

Before something else - something worse can happen, Dean’s picked up his plate. “I’m going to have dinner in my room. Feel free to…do whatever you want. Apparently, It’s Valentine’s day.” He adds, halfways to a scoff, as he marches out of the room. 

(Remember how Dean’s stopped thinking? Yeah.)

Cas picks up both of their coats before walking away, a few minutes later. There’s something heavy in the air, left behind.

*

Dean’s done eating. 

And because this is his life - his sad, pathetic life- his entire room has somehow grown even more annoyingly hot.

Burdened with misery all the way down to his sweaty socks, he wonders what Cas is up to.

Dude could be in the library, or his bedroom, or hell, even in the kitchen. He could be reading. Or training. (Or, Dean’s mind drifted, waiting.) What could Cas be doing, aside from stewing in this heat, which seems to be all Dean’s doing at the moment?

Except of course, thinking about Cas. But he doesn’t really count that as a separate activity, anymore. In more ways than one, it’s perpetual.

Well, he convinces himself, as he picks up his plate and walks out of his bedroom, arguably hoping to find Cas - he’s got to put the plates in the sink, at some point.

Dean finds Cas in the hallway, walking towards him - or like, in his general direction, and the first thing Dean notices is that he’s not wearing a fucking jacket anymore.

“Hey.” He stops, shuffling his weight on his feet. He takes up a second to imagine what it would be like if Cas didn’t stop, but then he does - so at least Dean’s got that going on for him.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” Cas remarks, matter-of-factly.

His expression’s perfectly serious, but Dean can swear there’s something else there. He can’t put his finger on it- but there’s something off. It’s the way Cas emphasizes the question tag. Or in the way he says the entire damn sentence.

Or maybe, Dean’s just overthinking words to avoid letting himself think about Cas in his white shirt.

His tie’s still in place, but the suit jacket’s gone, and its left the sleeves all crumpled. That’s a possible reason for Cas to have folded the sleeves up to his elbow, putting on display his forearms. And wrists. 

When Dean forces himself to look up from Cas’s hands, he decides that the shirt fits the best of anything else yet, stretched wide over his shoulders and essentially hugging his chest snugly, on the way down.

And it’s so white, that paired with Cas’s tan and the striped blue of his tie, it looks-

“So hot, yeah.” Dean answers, right before the pause that’d begun after Cas spoke, crossed the line to weird. Dean looks at the plate in his hands. “I’m going to put these away.”

“Good idea.” Is all Cas says, coolly - and on a different note, starts to tug at the knot of his tie this way and that, to loosen it. He’s successful almost immediately too, the collar beginning to widen, and -

Dean really doesn’t need to be here for that, so he hurries along his way, walking with his eyes glued to the floor as if that somehow detaches him from existence.

*

This, a hundred percent, has nothing to do with Cas.

It’s hot, is all it is.

Dean peels off his overshirt, leaving just a black t-shirt on - which is not even one of his best ones; it’s probably the one which got exchanged with Sam back in 2014, judging from the way it goes down past his waistline. Dean doesn’t bother folding it as he drops it on the bed. He’s got more important things on his mind.

Such as scoping out a valid reason to go out of his room again.

*

Almost an hour later, Dean feels like it’d be okay to venture out. Before leaving, for good measure, Dean removes his belt, too. Unbuckling it instantly eases some of the pressure on his stomach, which has kept on building, ever since this evening started.

Ever since Sam and Eileen left for their date, leaving him and Cas alone in the bunker with a broken AC.

On Valentine’s day.

Which, Dean frowns to himself, is a rather inconsequential piece of information to add to that pile.

He warns himself against thinking on those lines again, and strides out of his room. He can sense there’s someone in the War room, so in order to sound like he really needs the thing, he starts speaking from the hallway. “Heya, Cas, have you see the -”

There’s no good explanation for why he stops talking.

Except, maybe there is. 

Maybe there’s the best explanation ever, right in front of him, perched on the corner of a table. Maybe it’s got an unbuttoned shirt, and majorly fucked-up hair. Maybe it’s got abs, and chest hair, and hipbones; and maybe it’s all the reason that Dean Winchester’s ever required, for anything in his life. 

He’d lay down his life for it. Hell, he could probably live for that very reason.

“Have I seen the…?” Cas repeats, his left eyebrow hooked. Has that ever happened before? Just that one, arched perfectly, as if demanding all the finished sentences in the entire world.

Dean clears his throat.

He isn’t sure what he’s thinking about, but he can still tell it’s a mistake.

“Nevermind.” He lets out, in a voice which sounds wrong, even to him.

“Alright.” Cas nods in acknowledgement, and with that, turns back to his book. It’s a giant, musty book- but then, all their books are giant and musty, and Dean cannot decipher what’s written on it, because he’d really rather stare at Cas’s hands holding it.

“Don’t you think,” Dean licks his lips. Even his throat is dry. “Wouldn’t you say it’s getting a little too hot in here?”

“I’m doing what I can.” Cas replies, managing to stuff in a little bit of distressed in there, with the general flatness. “Clearly, so are you.”

In a couple of beats, Dean realizes he’s run out of words to say, and Cas doesn’t look too eager to supply his own to keep this conversation alive, so then Dean chuckles - to say the least, awkwardly, and retires to his room again.

*

He’s going to show Cas how much better he can do.

*

“It’s, so, hot.” Dean grits his teeth, pulling the shirt over his head. Now he’s naked from up the waist, and it feels a lot better.

This isn’t a typically humid area, so it’s not like being shirtless is gonna get him sticky. Or any more sweaty, than he already is. In fact, it feels so much better, that Dean almost manages to convince himself that that’s why he’s doing it.

Almost.

There’s no ignoring anymore, that it’s Valentine’s day. And he and Cas are alone in the bunker, and it’s really hot, but that’s not just it.

It kind of never was.

Dean falls back on the bed, sinking slightly into the mattress. An image of Cas floats through his head, and though he really shouldn’t be thinking about Cas right now - half-naked, and on a bed - he doesn’t want to stop.

It’s evident Cas knows what’s going on here.

(It’s evident Cas knows what he’s doing to Dean.)

And Dean feels a pang of something, when he realizes he’s losing this - whatever this is. He may have started it off by being a dick, but he’s lagging behind now.

It’s really more about how much Cas gets to Dean, than about the number of layers he took off. And who’s Dean kidding? He isn’t getting to Cas at all.

(At least, it hasn’t ever felt like it.)

Dean sighs.

He’s too far gone.

And Cas is leaning on a table and holding a book, with an unbuttoned shirt and his fucking smolder, waiting to tell Dean it’s really hot.

He unbuttons his jeans.

Screw this, it’s over a hundred degrees.

Still thinking about Cas, he undoes his zipper, and pushes them down his legs. It’s only when they’re pooled around his ankles, that it strikes him how fucking gone he is, on Cas. 

The realization doesn’t help at all.

He steps out of his jeans, and clenches his jaw.

*

This isn’t the time to think about feelings, and it’s not the time to ponder his relationship with Cas. It’s time to get out there.

So he does.

He walks fast enough, that it’s ironically not hot anymore. Exposure to air makes his legs feel a lot cooler, and though his boxer briefs cling to his thighs, it all feels somewhat freeing.

When he reaches the War Room, Cas isn’t there.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean swears under his breath, starting to walk down the hallway, but there’s no sign of Cas there either, and not even in the kitchen, and then -

“Dean?”

Dean jerks his neck around to face Cas. For the first time, Cas’s eyes seem to have deviated from their lifelong mission to stare Dean down - instead they’re focussed, oddly, on the only part of Dean which is still covered; and his lips are parted a little bit, but -

But he’s also completely fucking naked.

“Cas.” Dean growls, not wasting more than a second to take in all of Cas - eyes glancing over the parts he’d already gotten acquainted to, and hurrying to ogle his thighs, his ass, his fucking dick - and then, letting out a breath he had no idea he was holding, he’s pushing Cas against a wall, and crashing his lips on his.

He’s kissing Cas.

Cas gives back as he gets, grabbing hold of Dean, and pulling him closer with hands around his neck, as his tongue shoves into Dean’s mouth. Dean groans, but it gets lost in Cas’s mouth - eyes rolling back in his head, as his hip thrusts wilder, shoving Cas against the wall harder and pinning him there.

“Fuck, Cas, I - hnghhh -” He pants, in a raised voice, wanting to explain, apologize, proposition - everything at fucking once, but he breaks off with a whimper when he feels Cas’s dick against the fabric of his boxers, exciting his own dick even more.

Cas seems to be more interested in kissing him than his dick lets off - moving in perfect tandem with Dean, eyes completely shut and eyebrows furrowed like he’s concentrating on this; and he really is. He’s kissing Dean like nothing else matters - he’s kissing Dean like this is it, and he’s right, he’s so fucking right.

This is it.

Sparks fly when they kiss, and there’s current in his veins when Cas holds him. It thunders in his ears when Cas pulls Dean close, and all his walls collapse when he cries out Dean’s name.

This, right here, pushing and tugging, and desperate and breathless - this is them. This is everything their lives have been leading up to. This is truly and utterly it.

When Cas’s arms go around his waist, bringing him in tighter, Dean just has to pull away for breath.

Pupils blown, he grunts, accusing because he doesn’t know what he’d be, if not mad. “You ruined the game - or fucking whatever that was, Cas, you fucking ruined it -”

“I think I won the game, Dean.” Cas declares, jaw squared, and lips returning to that thin frown - but Dean does not want to be subjected to it anymore, so he dives in to tug it straight, but Cas cups his face, and kisses him instead, all the way there but just so soft - and Dean’s never been kissed like this before. He’s never known anything like it.

“Yeah, okay, fuck.” Dean gasps, when Cas’s hand slides under the elastic of his boxers, and takes his dick in hand. “Yeah, you win.” He adds, and they’re the last coherent words he gets out in a long while, as his head falls on Cas’s shoulder, hand on the wall propping him up, and he loses what little had remained of his senses.

*

Their chests still heave and Dean’s still lying half on Cas’s arm, absolutely boneless in the way sex makes people.

Cas turns his head to look at Dean, and there’s something twinkling - so beautiful, in his eyes. “Dean?”

“Yeah?” 

“I’m just asking to confirm, but was this because of the heat too?” This time, he sounds playful. He’s just egging Dean on. 

So of course, Dean refuses to accept anything out loud. 

He just turns to his side, and burrows himself around Cas. He knows it’s probably too hot to cuddle, but when he gently puts his head on Cas’s shoulder, Cas just hooks his chin on it like they’re in a frigging chick-flick. And that’s okay, just because. 

“Fine. Happy Valentine’s day to you, okay?”

Cas doesn’t say anything to that, but when his arm comes around Dean, there’s something smug about it. 

And Dean loves it.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

(credits: @hallowedbecastiel)

thank you, for 3333!! 

it makes me so, so happy to be making this post, because you’re really all such a wonderful bunch of people, and i’m so happy i met you all on here, because you constantly make me realize how joining this hellsite was one of the best decisions of my life!! it’s made me more me, in every sense of the statement, and i can’t thank you enough for it. 

i love you, and i’m flattered, and very grateful. so, reaching this weird, awesome milestone is a reason to celebrate, i’ve decided, and i thought that in addition to accepting *weird* fic-prompts (currently being worked on, do stay tuned <3) i would do some blog rates! 

(i’ll be honest, i’ve seen a bunch of these going around, and they seemed exciting. @quicksilver-ships convinced me the rest of the way. and in @hopeisthewholepoint‘s wise words: this is lowkey a selfish ploy for human interaction. please forgive me.)

rules:

you must be following me - i’d need to know you for these, won’t i?

send me a 🎉 and/or a 🌈 (format under the cut)

if you’re not up for one of those - ask me something random, and i have to answer.

or - send me a weird prompt, and i write you a [< 500] ficlet. (fair warning: this one might go past today, but it shall be done :D. i write most ships, also genfics, just no incestuous or paedophilic pairings)

filter #thankyoufor3333, if you don’t want to see it!

(entries close at 10 pm IST, on 10th of June. pending blogrates and prompts will be answered as soon as possible.)

🎉 BLOG RATE

handle/blog title: awesomesies | nOICE | t-that’s actually genius | G O A L S !! | i love your brain????? | PETER PARKER

icon/header: babie!! | SO PRETTY | *heart-eyes* | i’ve been staring at this for the last hour | added10yearstomylifespan | ANTHONY JANTHONY CROWLEY

theme/bg: lovely! | extremely aesthetic | *chef’s kiss* | that’s my favorite color!!!!! | this makes me very happy | AMY SANTIAGO

posts: not my thing but live your best life | fantastic!! | *cri* yOuR bRaIn |  *stares at you in wonder while you rock the blogging game* | i’ve been scrolling for 72 hours | SAM WINCHESTER

following? no but i love you | am now!! | try and stop me :) | YOU’RE A BEANFELLOW, SILLY | f o r e v e r

compliments: (totally picked this up from @hopeisthewholepoint) please let me say nice things about you. pretty please, and thank you. 

🌈 RANDOM TIDBITS

vibes: admit it, you’re cool | wOnDeRFul,,pure,,,,,go you | my kind of person <3 | so creative!!!!! | uwu, i’d like to keep them | EEEEEEEE

time of day: dawn | morning | afternoon | evening | night | is-it-late-or-is-it-early quarantine special

hogwarts house: slytherin | hufflepuff | gryffindor | ravenclaw

genre: fantasy | drama | coming of age | history | psychological thriller | r o m c o m

supernatural seasons i associate you with: 1 - 3 | 4 - 5 | 6 - 8 | 9 - 12 | 13 - 15

thoughts on interaction: now it begins | i see you around a lot, and am hunting for a chance to message | may we ~ uh ~ talk more? | imissthewayweusedtobe  | you’re on every seventh post of my blog | b e a n f r e n 

compliments: you can try, but there’s no ditching this bit. :)

tagging a few of my mutuals <333: @daisy-jeon @legendary-destiel @screamatthescreen @bluefirecas @hellfire37 @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @3dg310rdsupreme @quicksilver-ships @peanutbutterandgrapejelly @petrichoravellichor @all-or-nothing-baby @rauko-is-a-free-elf @i-miss-balthazar @callmeglucose @babeyinatrenchcoat @but-for-the-gods-three-days @specialagentrin @whiskeydeans @what-the-fuck-is-a-grape @wigglebox​ @noemithenephilim @super-sootica @love-nakamura

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

College au- all our friends are drunk + destiel. Thank you

Presenting, the usual softbois. Happy reading! This made me smile ~ <3

***

"All our friends are drunk."

Cas throws his hands up in the air dramatically, a caricature of the nonchalance a shrug usually conveys. He's got his lips pursed up in that frown which resembles too much of a pout, and his cheeks are pink from both the stunning levels of alcohol in his bloodstream, and the fascinating, wintry night.

Dean can't take his eyes off of Cas, dissolved deep in the middle of the sofa in his giant indigo hoodie and Dean's jeans jacket too, and he wants him so fucking bad - he wants to feel his stupid stubble, and stare into his eyes, and lick his goddamn neck and share not just an apartment but a bed with him - and it's driving him nuts, because he's usually got a better fucking hold on his thoughts, and he's usually successful in keeping them away, away, away from his terrifying crush on his best friend.

But Cas, seeming to spare Dean no pity for all his pain, whines. "I said, all our friends are drunk."

Dean takes a sip from his glass. He's basically numbed now, but at least something fluid goes down his throat and pools warm in his stomach, and gives him a sense of ability.

What for, he couldn't have fucking known.

"I dunno, Cas." He finally answers, shrugging like one's meant to, an unexcited bounce of a shoulder. "Some would argue, we're drunk too."

"Some are wrong." Cas postulates, turning to stare Dean down, as if there were a chance he'd be debated on it. He might as well have been quoting Socrates, for all the profound finality in his voice.

"Sure. In fact, many are wrong. Pretty much everyone's wrong, really." Dean helps, sitting up straighter. If it causes him to shuffle closer to Cas, he'll totally put it on him, because the latter is sunk in the middle of the couch when there's all that space to his right. Dean's still the one stuck to the left edge. He's blameless.

"But right now, they aren't. We are totally, and utterly drunk." Dean adds, a grin sneaking onto his face, unknown to him.

"Dean." Cas says, and Dean all but melts at how he says Dean's name. "Believe me." He sounds so earnest, too. "We're not drunk."

Dean rolls his eyes.

And then, he has a faint flicker of thought in a strange direction. A proposal of action. Its so bizarre, that it sets his nerve tingling in anticipated excitement.

But he's definitely not going to follow it through, because that would be ridiculous - and goddammit, it's already happening, because that moment of faded thought was all the notice his drunken mind had given, before it did just what it fucking wanted.

"Oh?" Dean hears himself drawl. "Well, if we weren't drunk, would I be able to," And here he pauses, and blinks, and leans - and somehow he gets the aim right, and then he's got his lips on Cas's.

He's kissing him.

He's got a hand fisting Cas's shirt, another squeezing his knee, maybe that one was already there - and his lips tremble, and his face is heating up, and when he pulls back for air, he finds himself reasonably drained of the courage to go back.

So he cowers back to the side, tries to pretend that he'd meant to do it.

And he thinks he's pulled it off, for Cas examines him dryly for a second, and then he realizes he hasn't pulled anything off except for the intricately woven shroud of denial he'd knitted for his feelings, because his heart throbs in it's cage, and he's close to getting up and bolting, and he's ruined it all, and -

Cas lunges forward, grabs his shirt and hoists him back, till he's got handfuls of Dean's face, and warm, wet kisses on Dean's mouth, and his eyes screwed shut like it's helping the momentum or something, and he's kissing Dean, and Dean's kissing him back, and this is happening, and this is happening, and it's everything Dean's ever dreamed it up to be.

"- and would you be able to do it back?" He finishes, breathless and flustered, and so exhilarated that he's having to keep himself from giggling.

"Why, of course," Cas frowns, and he's doing it all wrong again, that's how you pout, for fuck's sake, so Dean tries to kiss it right, and tug the corners of his lips down by tangential peppering of more kisses, and Cas continues to speak through his endeavours. "What has that to do with being drunk? That's just because we're in love."

"Oh." Dean repeats, and it's a more reassured, a more hysterical, a more ecstatic oh this time, and then goes right back to the kissing, and Cas hums his affirmation, before beginning to kiss back again, and that's that.

They spend the rest of the night, surrounded by the aforementioned drunk friends, busy in each other entirely, for they've never done it before, only wanted to - and wanted so bad, that it makes this even better.

And Cas's simple declaration echoes in Dean's ears the whole time - as they exchange kisses which stench so sweet and taste so like wineglasses, that he thinks of how Cas is both very wrong and completely right at the same time.

***

Taggy the list is singing today, the usual 'bean is back on her shit' ballad: @ctrl-alt-destiel @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @styggtroll @adventurous-blob @petrichoravellichor @all-or-nothing-baby @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @elvenlicht @legendary-destiel @trenchcoatsandfreckles @noemithenephilim @naitia @ladywaywarddsc @zoerayne2426 @hellfire37 @3dg310rdsupreme @thekidsmaybealright @impulsivedandelion @screamatthescreen @feraladoration

Have a wonderful day, my lovely beans. Love!

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

I keep postponing doing this, and then these get lost in my activity *facepalms* So I'm just gonna go ahead and do it! Thank you for the tag, @bluefirecas, and all you others? Especially ye, @daisy-jeon.

Here goes, in no particular order either:

Dume (Radio Company)

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy (Queen)

Let Me Be (Radio Company)

What About Us (P!nk)

Ddaeng (BTS)

Magic Shop (BTS)

Calma (Alan Walker Remix) (Pedro Capo)

Answer: Love Myself (BTS)

Afreen Afreen (Coke Studio 9)

Mera Mann - Yahin Hoon Main (T-series Mixtape! Kinda sorta Bollywood, huh? XD)

That was nice. And dmitri, I adore your taste! So good!!!

I tag @screamatthescreen @guesstimating-life @wolveswingsandwrenches @but-for-the-gods-three-days @telefunkies @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @howdoistopthetrain @legendary-destiel @elvenlicht @shejustcalledmeafish (/◕ヮ◕)/

Music Meme!

rules: list 10 songs you’ve been listening to a heckin lot lately and then tag 10 people.

I was tagged by @starsmish @fierydeans @bend-me-shape-me @assbuttboyfriends and @bloodonyourface , thank you loves!

(So I heard Jensen's album on a loop so that's gonna be there, and, songs I associate with Dean and Cas - because obviously I don't have a love life, BUT THEY DO and they just..... BROKE UP)

In no particular order :

Sounds Of Someday (Radio Company)

All Our Own (Radio Company)

Drowning (Radio Company)

Off My Mind (Radio Company)

Way Down We Go (Kaleo)

I Can't Go On Without You (Kaleo)

Let It Go (James Bay)

Fix You (Coldplay)

Waves (Dean Lewis)

Ghar (A BOLLYWOOD SONG!)

Okaaay! That was pretty old and sad lol.

I tag : @dochollidayed @princesscas @samxdean @adorkabledean @gracefuldean @angelsradios @galaxystiel @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @hunterize @some-people-call-it-tragic 💜

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

thank you, for 3333!!

This blog recently reached 3333 followers, and since I ended up floating my 3k, I'd really like to hold onto this one. I'm so, so grateful for all of you - and feel incredibly flattered. So much love, ♡(◡‿◡✿. And so,

Tomorrow shall be the milestone celebration!!

And it's a lovely, weird milestone ~ so I'd like to open my inbox for lovely, weird fanfiction prompts tonight.

SPN only, though all tropes work. Most ships go, too - except for incest or paedophilia. Nothing against rarepairs, or Genfics. And the weirder, the better! Make me crazy to write them right away, and I'll love you for it, and try to make you love it too.

I know I haven't been taking new prompts lately (for good reason - all the pending ones) but everything's fair today. It's milestone night, after all. There's some things I've planned for tomorrow, but I'd really like to fit in some writing for you folks. I like to believe it's what got me here, <3.

Leave me prompts while I sleep ~ and do have a wonderful day!! It's on me.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

look!! my first color-shaded art!!!

(drawn from a google image)

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Bübchen! Would you give me something?

Of course!! What would you like?

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Thanks for the tag @howdoistopthetrain! Your answers are awesome!

Rules: answer the questions, then tag 9 people you wanna get to know better!

Q1. Relationship status?

Single because he doesn't really exist in our world doesn't know I exist

Q2. Favorite color?

Silver, beige, grey, pastel, and Cobalt Blue.

Q3. Top 3 ships?

DESTIEL, Sabriel, NamTaeJin (Dramione, Darvey, JakexAmy need to be mentioned too)

Q4. Lipstick or Chapstick?

Chapstick to the day it disowns me for constantly losing it.

Q5. Last song I listened to?

Vienna (Billy Joel)

Q6. Last movie I watched?

Eh, I don't really watch that many movies, so it is probably Hotel Transylvania 3 (totally recommending that)

Tagging @petrichoravellichor @all-or-nothing-baby @anieisgay @igosploosh @moderatelypanickedbisexual @suckerfordeansfreckles @dammitsammy @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @elaspn

Six Questions Challenge

Thanks for tagging me @twistedbutcute!

Rules: answer the questions, then tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

Q1: Relationship status?

Single as a Pringle (but available *wink wink*)

Q2: Favorite color?

Green. Like basically any shade

Q3: Top 3 ships?

In case you couldn’t tell from my blog, they’re IronStrange, Destiel, and Drarry :3

Q4: Lipstick or chapstick?

Always been a chapstick gal

Q5: Last song I listened to?

HandClap (Fitz and The Tantrums)

Q6: Last movie I watched?

Venom (13/10 would recommend to anyone)

Tagging @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover, @skittles-rainbow-cat, @lesbigay-reader, @franthehorsegir, @fandom-apocalypse-42, @adventurous-blob, @imgay-letstalkaboutit, @septixcake, and @falcon-red

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Hey kid, you want sum angst, can you dig Elvis ?

Not even a little bit.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Do you write Sam x Rowena? I'd love to see a Valentine's Day drabble w them

"Samuel?"

Sam looks up from his book, his hair falling over his eyes as he does so. He's been drinking, thinking about people in his life, for he's been alone this entire evening. However, there's now a hint of a smile on his face, because that could only have been Rowena.

"It's Valentine's day." The voice declares, and indeed it's her - as she struts the distance from behind Sam to the chair in front of him, while the hunter tries to pay less attention to the clickclacking of her heels. They're, for some reason, mesmerizing.

"Huh," Sam answers. "I suppose it is."

They're quiet for a moment, looking at each other. She's in a royal purple dress, bright and gorgeous. But her lips are as red as they were, a few days ago, when they rendezvoused in hell.

"Uh, would you believe," He starts, if only to fill the silence. "That we've never been out on a date?"

It's a weird way to fill the silence, and Sam regrets it the moment he's spoken, but Rowena instantly takes to it. Her perfectly shadowed eyelids flutter. "You can't mean that!" She drawls.

Sam frowns back, surprised.

"What about all of the times we saved the world?" Sam shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips. "And all of those times I attempted to kill your brother or you?"

Sam shrugs. "Dunno about you, but I don't think it counts.

"Well," She takes a breath to think. "How about the time we took Jack to the hospital?"

"As a dog, so that we could steal anti-venom?" Sam finishes for her.

"So, no?" Rowena feigns amusement.

"Yeah, no."

"Ahh." She sighs, shaking her head. "That explains a lot of things now, doesn't it?" Sam raises an eyebrow, urging her to elaborate. "Oh, don't look at me like that. You know what I mean. I was always wondering why you didn't always greet and bid me farewell with a kiss, but I suppose now we've resolved that mystery."

Sam can't really tell if she's joking.

But she went on. "And I suppose now that we know of it, we must resolve it too." She smiles sweetly at him, and it doesn't feel strange. It feels nice.

"Are you asking me out?" Sam has to confirm.

Rowena purses her lips, and Sam wonders if he should confess that he's probably very drunk.

"Huh." She finally says, winking, and pulling him out of his anxiety. "I suppose I am."

That's enough clarity for Sam to heave himself up to his feet, slam the book shut, and lean down to kiss the - now, standing - Queen of Hell.

And for her, to cup his face with both her hands, close her eyes gently, and kiss him back with fervour.

It makes for a good evening, thereafter.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

I'm gonna be completely truthful with you guys. I don't know what the >:) emojis mean, or if they're upside down or downside up and if someone explained em to me, I'd be very grateful and return the favor by explaining a tumblr term or something that i know (you all know imma explain beans doncha) so like yeah help?

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

I don't really do these because I'm lazy, but you must conquer your laziness if you want to lengthen a thread

Thanks for the tag @lets-all-have-an-orgy

1. Hey Jude, by the Beatles.

2. Diamond Heart, by Alan Walker.

3. Spring Day, by BTS

4. Euphoria, by BTS (Jungkook)

5. Coffins, by Bohnes

6. It Ain't Me, by Selena Gomez

7. Vienna, by Billy Joel

8. A Thousand Years, by Christina Perri

9. Go Go, by BTS

10. Airplane Pt.2, by BTS

I listen to a lot of BTS, okay? 😂

@emmii4 @but-for-the-gods-three-days @elaspn @crack--attack @styggtroll @spn-destiel-enthusiast @ace-of-black-hearts @timetravellingwinchester @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @fantasy-is-prettier-than-reality

thank you @royalrowena for the tag~

Rules: put your music on shuffle and post the first 10 songs, then tag 10 victims

Pitiful Children from Be More Chill

Walking on Sunshine by Katrina & the waves

Don’t be so Hard on Yourself by Jess Glyn

This Boy is A Bottom by (???)

Uptown Funk

Young and Menace by Fall Out Boy

Dead Girl Walking (reprise) from The Heathers

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing by Set It Off

This is Gospel by Panic at the Disco

Where Did the Party Go by Fall out Boy

i swear to god i dont JUST listen to panic and fob i just got a lot of their songs and haven’t deleted them okay

@ain-t-bovvered @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @adventurous-blob @buy-some-motherfuckin-apples @silvahhauntah @masochist-incarnate @mindhascompletelyblanked @teamfreedogs @gabrielsbackbitches @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat