Castiel sees a tv show where a woman blows a kiss to her husband before she leaves the house.
So on his way out to get groceries, he waves Dean down from across the bunker living room. Right after Dean shouts back, “Get me some beers and more cheddar cheese for the fridge!” Cas says, “Sure!” and blows Dean a kiss.
Without even thinking about it, Dean pretends to catch it and presses his palm to his lips. Then his eyes grow wide and he squawks, “WHAT!” as Cas closes the door behind him.
(2/6) Cas sort of hunches in over himself and mumbles, “No, Dean. I don’t want to.” “Dammit, Cas. Go already! I’m not going to have you crap on the carpet like a friggin’ dog, OK?” Cas just glares, and Dean makes a frustrated noise in response. “Christ, Cas. What do you want me to do, talk you through the goddamn thing?” Cas immediately stands and says, “Yes, that would be preferable,” before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.
(3/6) “What—” Dean starts, and then Cas calls from behind the door, “I’m ready, Dean.” Dean licks his lips and checks behind his shoulder. No Sam. And OK, maybe it’s fucking stupid, but Dean already told himself he would help Cas with this human thing, right? He can do this. He can totally do this. “Uh, you’re on the toilet right?” There’s a pause before Cas says, “No, Dean, I’m in the bathtub.” And god, Cas can be a sarcastic little shit when he wants.
(4/6) Before Dean can reply, Cas continues, “Yes, Dean. I am, in fact, aware of how toilets work.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who asked for my help. So, uh…usually I just kinda clench and release.” God, he can’t believe he’s doing this. “And then stuff comes out.” Cas doesn’t say anything, and when the silence begins to stretch, Dean starts whistling softly to himself. Hearing Cas take his first dump isn’t really on Dean’s to-do list.
(5/6) Finally (thank god, thank fucking god), Dean hears a toilet flush. Dean’s back on the couch by the time Cas comes out, hands washed, looking immensely relieved. “Hey, uh. So. Everything go OK in there?” Dean asks. Cas sits down beside him, a little closer than they were before. “Yes, Dean. Thank you.” Dean pauses, then says, “Great. Fantastic. I never have to do that again, right?” Cas rolls his eyes, like Dean’s being fucking ridiculous. “No.”
(6/6) Dean shifts a little closer to Cas. “Great. Uh, you’re welcome.” And maybe Dean gets it, OK? Cas doesn’t like being reminded he’s human now. Dean isn’t as emotionally stunted as he likes to pretend, which is probably why he finds himself putting an arm around Cas’s shoulder. It’s also probably why he squeezes once it’s there. Cas gives an easy sigh and relaxes into him, and Dean starts to think that maybe, just maybe, they’ll be OK.
rebloggable by request!!! ♥
It’s after a week of Castiel sulking and generally being miserable that Dean slaps down a piece of a paper and a pen on the kitchen table in front of him.
Castiel stares uncomprehendingly at it a moment then peers up at Dean. “What’s this?”
“You think being human sucks so bad? Fine. I’m gonna show you just how awesome it is.” Dean’s voice is forcedly optimistic, and Castiel knows that it’s for his own sake and is grateful. “Write down the top 5 things you want to learn as a human, and I’ll teach you how to do them.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Yup, I am.” Dean’s eyes brighten and he grins. “Hey, I can be like your, uh, your human Yoda.”
This, Castiel thinks, cannot go well.
Dean barely gets Castiel back to his dormroom (thank god he got a single) before they’re ripping each others clothes off. And they are taking the ripping thing quite literally. From the moment they met it’s been nothing but venomous glares and hateful sexual tension. Twelve minutes ago they were fighting in the hallway about how Castiel is so fucking goody-goody and Dean is nothing but a no-good partier and then this happened. Now they’re bodies are reduced to tongues and teeth and biting and growling.
Dean pushes Cas face down on his mattress and pulls off his boxers. Castiel looks absolutely incredible lying there, the long lines of his back and ass and legs. Still in his boxers, Dean fumbles for the lube in his dresser drawers and slicks up his fingers. Straddling Castiel’s thighs, he puts his dry hand around the column of Castiel’s neck. He rubs his fingers around Cas’ hole until it’s relaxed enough to put his index finger in. Panting hard, Castiel buries his face in the sheets, ass pushing back, taking everything Dean is giving him.
Dean places a kiss against Cas’ ear, voice low and gravelly. “You ever had someone’s fingers in your ass?” Castiel’s head shakes no. “Do you like it?”
“y-yeah.” Castiel’s voice is wrecked, absolutely ruined. It sends a wave of pleasure right down Dean’s chest.
Dean speaks again, lips brushing against Castiel’s cheek. “You want me to fuck you?”
Dean gives and gives and Castiel takes everything and gives it back. They come on each other, painting the skin on their bellies. They catch their breath and lie side by side, crammed on that stupid dorm mattress, staring at invisible constellations on the plaster ceiling.
Castiel eventually lifts his head up and places a chaste kiss on Dean’s lips. He runs his cool fingers over Dean’s cheek and hair and whispers in his ear, “My dick is bigger than yours, Winchester.”
He laughs at Dean’s scandalized expression and then grabs Dean’s boxers and pulls them on so he can take a leak.
That’s when Dean knows he is in deep trouble with that boy.
Dean’s never seen Castiel’s wings in reality, and now he never will.
Castiel talks about them quietly, only sometimes, when he’s feeling morose and nostalgic. Describes their span, the way they’d unfurl; how they were brown-black, dark, shiny when he was at his best. How warm they were.
Now they’re ragged, desperate things, and they shed feathers everywhere Castiel walks. He’s not strong enough to lift them, anymore; they drift against his back, trailing along the ground – or so he says.
Dean can’t see them; no one can see them now, not even Castiel, but he can feel them; how cold they are, how brittle. He falls during a hunt and looks so shocked and grief-stricken that for a moment Dean thinks he’s been grievously hurt – but, Castiel tells him later, it was only that he’d rolled over, and his wing had snapped, as easily as breaking a twig.
Castiel bleeds invisibly; carries the burden of cold halo and listless wings like manacles fastened around his shoulders and neck; and there is nothing that Dean can do to help him, nothing to stop the tide.
Castiel copes, or he is overcome; it changes, day by day. Sometimes he is quiet, pensive, and gentle; sometimes he is fine.
Other days he sleeps for hours on end, and won’t talk.
Other days, Dean catches him standing naked in front of the mirror, hands probing the unmarred skin of his back, looking for something to hold.
WHAT IF CAS NEEDS TO GET AN ANTI POSSESSION TATTOO WHEN HE FALLS
AND WHAT IF HE NEEDS TO HOLD DEAN’S HAND BECAUSE IT HURTS TOO MUCH
AND WHAT IF DEAN JUST WHISPERS SOOTHING WORDS AND RUNS HIS FINGERS THROUGH CAS’ HAIR
THEN THE TATTOO ARTIST ASKS HOW LONG HAVE THEY’VE BEEN TOGETHER
DEAN FLUSHES RED AND CAS MISINTERPRETS IT AS HOW LONG THEY HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER AND CAS ANSWERS 5 YEARS
I need to sit down and think about all of these things
Now with fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/805278
Dean comes into the bunker to a lot weird sights, ever since Cas came back to them – but none so unnerving as this.
Castiel is curved against the arm of the couch, his head in his hands – his shoulders are hunched up around his face, and he’s turned away from Dean – but Dean can see the way he trembles indefinably, and his eyes are locked on the TV.
“I’ll be right here.”
“Oh, fuck.” He finally recognises what he’s seeing on the screen; the swirling blue lights, the dark, early-eighties film quality. He rushes over – too late, now, of course – and makes to shut the TV off, but Castiel grabs his sleeve, preventing him.
“Dean.” He says quietly, and Dean looks down at him, and he looks small. He’s found himself a fucking blanket, like he was playing at being the weird little animatronic puppet, and he looks tiny and fragile and swept away. His eyes are red-rimmed. “Dean, I-“ his words fail him. He sobs.
Dean doesn’t know what to do, other than to apologise; he blames himself for not worrying about what Castiel might catch, watching TV at all hours of the day, like he does; he blames Steven fucking Spielberg for a lot of things, to be honest. “Cas, I’m sorry.” He says quietly, and sits beside him; lets Castiel fold his hands in his shirt, helplessly. Castiel doesn’t pull him close; Dean does it for him. He wraps his arms awkwardly around his shoulders.
“Dean, I don’t – I don’t understand.” He mumbles nonsensically, muffled, and Dean thinks maybe he does.
There’s nothing to take Castiel back now, no fucking home to phone. There’s just the black empty the sky above them, from where all the stars fell; there’s just silence.
Dean doesn’t know what to say; doesn’t have the words.
He just holds him, instead, until the tremors cease.
but just imagine team free will in the bunker one night after they get a proper tv and manage to hook up some cable, and they’re flipping through channels and oh hey look, E.T. is on hahaha let’s watch it and by the end when E.T. is telling Elliot, “I’ll be right here”, and pointing at his heart, Sam hears some sniffles and he looks over to see Dean with his arm around Cas and his forehead pressed against the side of Cas’ head. and he pretends not to because they’re clearly having some sort of moment, even further proved when he hears Cas mutter, “I get the reference now”
When Dean and Sam take Cas to the thrift store to get him some clothes, Dean is looking around a bit and his heart practically stops from how deep a gasp he takes in when he spots an original gameboy and tetris buried in a bin in a corner of the store. He of course buys it and…
i was thinking about flowers and babies and was suddenly struck with a super silly rom com premise:
okay so Cas is a botanist who works in a flower nursery. Dean is a childcare worker… who also works in a nursery. hilarious! so ironic! anyway maybe they have a mutual friend of a friend who vaguely knows they both work in nurseries but not what kind and so assumes it’s the same thing and that they’d have so much in common!! of course part of the problem is that Cas is a super recalcitrant curmudgeon of a botanist who feels super awkward around kids, and Dean absolutely adores them. and before they even get to the first disastrous blind date they end up meeting anyway because Dean tries to arrange a trip for his kids to the flower nursery, but Cas obviously is terrified of a bunch of two year olds getting hands all over his flowers so he refuses, things get heated, but thank god they never have to see each other again, right? the next day is their blind date and they realise at the same time who it is that they’ve been set up with.
highjinks and misunderstandings ensue, but of course at the end of the day Cas warms up to Dean’s kids, and Cas brings Dean flowers :’)
they kiss in the greenhouse and after Dean giddily asks if Cas is blushing because of him.
“It’s the humidity,” Cas replies seriously. “But we might as well test your theory thoroughly,” he adds after, pulling Dean’s mouth back against his. Dean is happy to oblige—in the name of science, of course.
wHOA but ok
cas has mad stamina like wow angel i bet he could fuck for days and that bugs dean because he’s panting like he’s just run a marathon and his pulse is drumming so hard under his skin it feels like every artery in his body is going to burst. but at the same time, his fucking eyelids are so heavy and he just wants to weave his and cas’ limbs together and fall asleep in their combined warmth. but cas is like “hm i think i want to read a book or maybe a whole library and make a salad and climb a building and then invent a galaxy”, and it frustrates the shit out of dean that he can’t wear cas out, and he wants it to happen just once because he feels a bit like a fucking flake next to his superpowered angel boyfriend.
so, obviously, the most effective solution is to put them both on lockdown and have sex until he depletes cas’ batteries. of course, dean is unsure if that’s even possible so the attempt to do so may kill him, but he is sure that cas won’t let dean fuck himself to death. so dean’s stocks his room up on water and protein bars and he jacks the microwave, the coffee maker, and a few bags of popcorn from the kitchen. he tells sam to mind the “do not disturb” hanging on his bedroom door, and sam doesn’t need telling twice since he was the one who made the sign in the first place after one too many “incidents”.
“so help me, we are not leaving this room until you fall asleep in my arms,” he tells cas firmly, face turning redder and redder as he turns to close the door to his room. this whole thing suddenly feels like a bad idea (which it is, and he already knew that), a bit too forced, too mechanical, like the cool observation of a scientific trial. that’s not what they are. that’s not what they’ve ever been.
and, thankfully, castiel saves him the inevitable awkwardness and humiliation of the coming hours in which dean would likely be reduced to nothing but a damp, gooey stain on the mattress and sam would be forced to wash his brother out of the sheets (they haven’t taught cas how to do laundry yet) and says, “dean, if that’s all you wanted, you just needed to say so.”
dean fucking cas on that luminous map-table in the men of letters bunker (◡‿◡✿)
cas pointing out the maps inaccuracies as dean lays panting and spent on top of him (⊙‿⊙✿)
#oh man Cas would be mega-impressed by the extensiveness of the library’s book collection too #until he read some of it #and some books about creatures or other lore are found to be horrifically inaccurate #so inaccurate that it makes Dean’s attempts at seduction while Cas is documenting these literary atrocities virtually impossible #finally Cas vocally sighs in exasperation #and slams one such book down on the table #’Dean’ he sighs heavily #as Dean lays a kiss on the back of Cas’ neck #’I’m sure my neck is indeed delicious #but don’t you think our time could be better spent by sweeping these terrible books onto the floor’ he proposes with a raised brow #That’s all the prompting Dean needs to officially christen the first of many tables in the library #Sam refuses to go in there for a week. (via:dirtyovercoats)
(continuation of X, College!AU where Dean/Cas don’t get along at first)
(for fangirlingonbakerstreet, who wanted some snarky!Cas - I am so bad with snark but I tried really hard. Hope you enjoy! :))
Dean doesn’t know what Cas’ - sorry, Castiel’s - problem with him is exactly, but the guy seems to have a snide remark for every peace offering Dean attempts. (“I brought you some ice cream.” “I’m lactose intolerant.” “You are literally eating a grilled cheese sandwich right now.” “No, I’m not.”). Dean’s had just about as much as he can take. He’s thinking about applying for a roommate transfer. Cas isn’t a bad roommate per say - he stays on his side of the room and is pretty clean, doesn’t eat Dean’s food - but Dean can’t handle this level of daily hostility.