The world is empty, he almost lost Cas again.
The world his full, Cas loves him.
rules
Dean has an extensive number of rules.
something more | ao3
Dean never wants to go to hunter gatherings.
like today | ao3
Dean is not too bothered. Outside the weather is bad, but the place it’s nearby, the job seems easy and they can be home in time for dinner. And if they hit the traffic, well, Cas will be there. They will be fine.
alt 15.20
Sam snorted, too engrossed in his phone to argue. “I think it’s time, Dean. You’re ready to hang it up,” he joked.
heaven | ao3
The reaper they send looks at him with compassion. It’s not anyone he knows.
“Welcome, Dean,” she says, “Are you ready to move on?”
15.18 coda
Dean doesn’t get used to it.
seedlings | ao3
Castiel is standing in Robert Singer’s kitchen.
foosball
They’ve got a foosball table now.
ring for an angel | ao3
The blue neon sign on top of the short building says Feathers in a friendly font and has a pair of little wings and a halo to blink with it.
dw. is saved (18/09/20)
It’s a night like any other when Jack asks Cas if he can tell the story of how he rescued Dean from Hell.
bobby's house
Dean wakes up from his nap on Bobby’s couch.
time
It’s not exactly a memory, but a memory of a dream.
lebanon | ao3
Sometimes, when he is at the bunker and things are quiet, Castiel goes out and ventures in town.
help | ao3
Dean keeps busy in the bunker; Cas helps.
take heart, dear one | ao3
The journey was long, music filled and a little snore filled and it involved a lot of gas stations and sketchy diners and a stop to buy three pairs of ridiculous rubber flip flops but at the end the bungalow turned out to actually be on a beach, so at least the booking site hadn’t lied about that.
#DEANCASSUMMERPROMPTS21
week 1: summer soltice
The huge neon sign on the door said Summer Solstice in yellow and orange and was decorated with palms and flamingos. It was flashy and intimidating.
week 2: drive in cinema
Cas appears out of nowhere in the passenger seat, making Dean jump out of his skin and spill soda all over himself.
week 3: i can still recall our last summer
Dean said it was too hot. He’d said it fifty times already since they left the bunker this morning and they were not even halfway through the journey.
week 4: selfie together
Three days to impact (moving out with Cas and a bunch of hunter nerds settling into the bunker to set up the Network), and Dean was still elbow deep in messy drawers, sorting through his stuff in one of the research rooms.
week 5: holidays [holiday fic part 1/3]
Sam dropped it on him right before they left for their holiday.
week 6: water guns [holiday fic part 2/3]
As soon as he looked at Alex he knew she was thinking the same thing, given her eyes, wide and bright and a mischievous smile on her lips.
“Ambush?” she said.
week 7: long summer nights [holiday fic part 3/3]
It was four a.m. and Dean was awake.
#SPNADVENTCALENDAR2020
day 1: advent calendar
Dean couldn’t believe that he was going to be late.
Of all the times it could happen, it had to be on that day, on that snowy February night of his first date with Cas.
day 2 + 3: childhood memories + motel rooms
One minute Dean is soaping up in the shower - under what could be described more as a lukewarm leak than an actual shower spray - and the next the whole thing dies on him.
day 4: cooking and baking
Now, Bobby Singer didn’t always exactly enjoy having Sam and Dean around – he was used to living alone and he liked his routine; they got loud when they bickered and he always had to make sure they were clean and fed and far from the stuff he had laying around that they weren’t supposed to touch.
day 5 + 6: carols + christmas curse | ao3
Cas shows up on the third day with the french hens and the turtle doves and the partridge in tow.
day 7: phone calls and late night texts
The first time his phone rings, they are at the diner.
When Cas makes no move to grab it from his pocket, Claire stops talking about her classes for a moment to ask, “Isn’t that your phone?”
day 8: “there’s no need for mistletoe”
“Are you guys decent?” comes Sam’s voice from the other side of their door.
“Yes,” is Cas’ reply, at the same time Dean says, “No.”
day 9: wishes
Dean wakes with a start.
Even in the dark, his eyes find Castiel immediately - a solemn, imposing figure at the edge of his bed.
day 10: the gingerbread man
Sam sits across from him with an amused grin plastered on his face.
“Jack said he wants to be the gingerbread man for Christmas this year,” he says.
day 11: sharing is caring
“Do we know anyone around here?” asks Cas from the passenger seat and Dean closes his eyes and sighs.
“Yeah,” he says disheartened, “We know Garth.”
day 12 + 16: the one with the dancing + family
A Winchester treat package, Christmas edition.
day 13: poinsettia
It started as soon as Cas joined them at the diner and slipped into the booth next to Dean liked he usually did.
day 14: christmas lights
The last question she asks is the one Claire wanted to avoid at all costs.
“Are you coming back to see the lights?”
day 15: of snow and scarves
Dean flung open the door on the parking lot outside their motel room.
“Alright you two, get inside now. It’s freezing,” he called, briskly.
day 19: photographs
It gets – a little out of control, but Dean doesn’t realize it, not until Sam comes around one time and he’s scrolling through his phone, saying, “Dude, how many pictures of Miracle have you got?”
#SPNSTAYATHOMECHALLENGE april-june 2020
monday 1: feather
“What the-?”, shouted Dean stopping short on the garage door.
monday 2: gentlemen + thief
“We are the best, aren’t we?”
There’s the night and there’s them, engine roaring, compass pointing towards home.
monday 4: bet | ao3
Four times Eileen thought Dean and Castiel were more than friends and one time Sam (finally) saw it too.
monday 5: motel
The police scanner informs them that there’s another victim when it’s three p.m., they’ve just checked in at the motel and they haven’t eaten since breakfast.
monday 6: jealous
Nora had set Castiel up on a blind date with a really nice guy once.
monday 7: thunderstorm
One moment they are speeding up on the empty road with the windows rolled down and the sun shining on the side mirrors and the next is as if someone threw a blanket over the sky.
monday 8: hope
There they are, under the blazing sun in an abandoned parking lot.
Castiel has to leave.
monday 9: undercover
Something went wrong.
Dean’s got his back against a wall and a knife at his throat and the girl that’s holding it seems like she knows exactly how to use it.
monday 10: paradise
Every other week Dean drives up to North Cove and finds himself on the doorsteps of the little cottage James Novak rented for Kelly Kline.
It’s not enough that they’ve been digging up graves in the snow and that they’re dirty and tired and aching – the weather had to play its part and send them a storm.
From where they’re stuck in the middle of nowhere in Wisconsin, home seems far, far away.
“Do we know anyone around here?” asks Cas from the passenger seat and Dean closes his eyes and sighs.
Now, Bobby Singer didn’t always exactly enjoy having Sam and Dean around – he was used to living alone and he liked his routine; they got loud when they bickered and he always had to make sure they were clean and fed and far from the stuff he had laying around that they weren’t supposed to touch.
He never wanted to be a father after all, nor get stuck running a daycare for hunters for that matter, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say no to John whenever he asked, even if he had his garage to run and hunting on the side.
He felt bad for them. He might have known nothing about raising children, but he sure knew that they were supposed to have a home, not to be dragged across the country in an old car, exposed to all kinds of dangers.
So, if washing an extra set of bedsheets and hiding his booze and getting a headache or two from their feet stomping upstairs meant giving them a roof over their head for a few days, a familiar place where to feel safe and proper food in their belly – if one could count canned soup as proper food – then he could bite the bullet.
One minute Dean is soaping up in the shower - under what could be described more as a lukewarm leak than an actual shower spray - and the next the whole thing dies on him.
Dean sighs heavily, steps out on the cold bathroom tiles and towels off the soap as best as he can. He is sticky and uncomfortable when he gets into his clothes but it’s not worth bringing up the issue at the front because they are leaving the motel anyway.
Sam says, “Maybe they’ll let you take a shower in another room,” but Dean doesn’t want to. This is just the cherry on top of a godawful day and he wants to get out of there now and don’t ever come back. He is sick of those carpeted floors, those disgusting smells, the stained curtains, the dirty ashtrays.
He is well aware that if they didn’t find the bunker they would have spent the rest of their lives in dumps like this, so it’s not like he can look down on anything with a roof on. Still, Dean finds more and more intolerable the places he grew up in.
He stretches on his bed, rolls on his stomach and smiles into his pillow that smells of fresh laundry. He feels comforted by his room, and the simplest event of finding his slippers right next to his bed.
On an off day like today, he usually puts on his robe and makes his way down the chilly hallways with only the sound of his steps and the faint buzzing of the generator for company.
Some days, like today, Cas is already in the kitchen. Dean makes eggs while he sits at the table munching on cereals. It’s just a habit he picked up from Jack; he can’t really tell what they taste like. Dean used to snap at the kid for the constant crunching in his ears so early in the morning - now he’s used to it. He sits across from Cas and eat his breakfast.
Every other day, Sam walks in and wants to talk about a weird dream he had and what it could mean. Rowena tells him he’s got a gift he needs to learn to control, but Dean is not sure there’s much to interpret about a cart full of expired food. Sometimes Sam talks about a case he heard about or an article he read.
Some days he says there’s case not too far from there, and he’s thinking of going ahead, check it out, see if it’s something up their alley. Some days Dean even agrees to let him go alone without putting up a fuss.
*
Today, Sam leaves and Dean asks Cas, “You sticking around for this one?” – back turned, eyes down, hands busy. Sometimes he doesn’t feel brave enough to do that either, so he just goes back to his room and hopes to find him there when he returns.
He makes his bed, carefully smooths out all the creases. He takes a long hot shower, humming a song he got stuck in his head, styles his hair, puts on some clean clothes.
Then he goes to the map room where Cas is usually squinting at Dean’s laptop screen. Not too long ago, he used to knock on his door and ask, “May I borrow your laptop?”; now Dean just leaves it around, and Cas doesn’t ask anymore. Dean doesn’t mind.
It’s curious – he uses only three fingers as he types, one index of his left hand and the index and middle finger of his right hand. Dean had been about to bring it up to Sam one time, but then he thought of all the things Cas knew about him and never mentioned and decided to keep this one about Cas for himself.
While they research, they’re quiet for the most part. Some days, the table between them is covered in books, in pizza boxes, in weapons, in blood. Some days, they argue and storm off and some days, Cas makes Dean laugh and Dean makes Cas do that face that Dean likes.
If he's had a long night, sometimes Dean dozes off with his head on his hand and his gaze in Cas’ general direction. Bitter thoughts drift him away, like, how Cas probably shouldn’t be there, and how this was never a place for an angel.
A titan of the sky, confined in a human body, squeezed on a chair in an underground box. How his skin must prickle, and his wings long to be stretched. How long it will be before he won’t take it anymore.
Dean doesn't like those days. He gets snappy and irritable and Cas leaves and it makes everything worse.
Most days though, like today, he looks like he's exactly where he's supposed to be and when he meets his eyes across the table, maybe even exactly where he wants to be.
Sometimes Dean relaxes a little too much and he’s woken up by the sound of the coffee mug Cas puts down next to the book he fell asleep on. His brain register a looming presence and his insticts tell him to jerk away, but before that can happen, there’s Cas’ hand on his shoulder, heavy and familiar.
Dean heart slows down, he sits up and drinks his coffee.
*
Today is peaceful, but Dean feels a little more alive, like on those blue early mornings on the road that make you regret stepping out of your car without a jacket and the smell of gasoline filling your nostrils seems stronger than it’s ever been.
Dean opens up the police scanner on Sam’s laptop and checks his texts. Most days there’s one from Jody who just wants to check in, like she’s patroling outside of their bunker. Today there’s one from Claire, replying to a text he sent her the night before.
you on a job?, he asked
no, just finished one, is what she wrote back.
He writes, come by for the w/e. Then adds, he wants to see you and sends attached a picture of Cas that he snaps on the spot without him noticing.
A few seconds later Claire writes back, just admit you miss me. And right after, ok. And then again, kaia wants burgers.
Dean grins and shots back, just admit you love my cooking
She sends a rolling-my-eyes emoji. Dean snorts and Cas looks up.
“Claire and Kaia are spending the weekend,” he explains.
"Good," Cas smiles and then says, “You should make burgers. She loves them.”
*
Some days Sam calls and says there’s nothing for them, and some days he calls and says there’s something for them.
Today Cas is typing away and Dean has just sat down with a fresh cup of coffee when Sam calls and it’s something.
Dean is not too bothered. Outside the weather is bad, but the place it’s nearby, the job seems easy and they can be home in time for dinner. And if they hit the traffic, well, Cas will be there. They will be fine.
He will roll down his window a little even if it rains and Dean will turn the radio on, and a familiar track will start in just the perfect spot, right before the chorus, and Dean will sing along quietly, tapping his fingers on the wheel, under the grey and the wet and Cas’ gaze, curious and slightly amused.
*
Cas asks again if they have everything, like he’s packing for a kid going to summer camp (Dean tells him), and takes one of the duffel bags from Dean’s hand without asking, and walks past him, like he’s used to carry Dean’s clothes and weapons. “Do you have your snack for the road?,” he asks, climbing the iron stairs and Dean stops in his track, glosses over the snarky suggestion that he’s the kid going to summer camp in the scenario, and instead actually wonders if he’s got time to run to the kitchen real quick, but then he shrugs, shoulders his bag and says “We’ll stop along the way.”
They can stop along the way, like they sometimes do. He will get a hot bagel and Cas will down half his coffee, and they will stand right outside the store, where they can’t get wet but they can breathe and hear the rain. And Cas will say – well, Dean can never anticipate what Cas is going to say, but that’s the good part.
*
Dean tells him to wait for him outside as he brings the car around but when he does, Cas is not there. Dean turns off the engine just as the first raindrops hit, hit, hit the windshield. Today there’s something different, he feels, in the familiar, comforting smell of the Impala, something fresh, new, something that whispers to him that he’s got the whole day ahead and all the time in the world after that.
By the time Cas gets out of the metal door, rain is falling heavily all over the roof and Dean feels nowhere on Earth, surrounded by water. Dean doesn’t hear the door shutting, but spots the blurry silhouette of a trench-coated figure approaching. He turns the key in the ignition and as the lights go up, he’s on Earth again.
Cas is unbothered by the rain, as he is unbothered by most natural events. He takes his time opening up the backseat door to toss the duffel bag in, before slipping in the passenger seat, trenchcoat soaked, hair dripping and raindrops running down his cheeks. Dean’s lips quirk up. Cas says, “I had forgotten a book.”
Dean doesn’t care. He says, “You should dry your hair,” but Cas shrugs, “There’s no need.”
Dean reaches towards the backseat to take a t-shirt out of his bag. He throws it on Cas’ head and starts rubbing his hair and he's so startled that for a moment just lets him.
“Dean,” he complains then and pushes his arms away, “I’m not a child,” he says. His face is red and his hair wild. Dean counters his annoyed look with a grin, “What?” he says.
Cas shakes his head, “Can we go now?”
But Dean is not ready yet. Sometimes, when he's alone with Cas like this, he feels something grip his insides and tug at him to say something.
He usually wants to say, I’m glad you’re here, but today he also wants to say, we could let Sam handle this one and just go for a ride, we could stop only when we get out from under the clouds and we could watch the rain from a distance and we'll be standing in the light, and if we’re lucky it won’t be too cold but if it is, who cares? You won’t be bothered by that and I won’t be bothered by that either cause you’ll be there, he wants to say aren’t we lucky? aren’t we lucky that you’re with me and I’m with you right now? and I have this feeling swelling in my chest, I don’t know what it is.
And I wish everyday was like this, exactly like this, but I’m not sure what this is.
But when Cas’s expression blends into confusion and he blinks, “Dean?”, he shakes his head.
They’re fine. With the whole day ahead and their whole lives after that. He feels like tomorrow he can have anything, but today – he likes today just the way it is.
“Just thinking,” he says, starting the car and taking the road, “Having a good day, is all.”
With the corner of his eye he can see Cas dubiously looking out at the pouring rain and back at him.
Dean meets his eyes and gives him a smile to see if he can prompt one in return without saying anything.
Cas’ lips twitch for a moment and then he smiles back.
_
*about Sam's dream: to my knowledge expired food in dreams mean unfinished business and stuff of the past we carry with us (sorry sammy i thought it was fitting - i had the same dream if that's any consolation)
okay but nacho using lalo's swimming pool late at night
lalo sitting on a lounge chair, a drink in his hand. just enjoying the show of nacho muscles breaking the surface. nacho stopping on the far end, turning to watch lalo.
lalo moving to sit by the edge of the pool, his legs wide, his feet in the water, his index finger motioning him
nacho swimming in between his legs, his shoulders, glistening, the drops trapped on his lashes
lalo finishing his drink - leaving the glass beside him. staying still, watching nacho
nacho taking his chance. pushing himself up, one hand on the edge of the pool, the other on lalo knee, his mouth towards the buldge in lalo's swimming shorts. but before he can make contact, lalo reacting, raising a leg to push his chest away with one foot, the other leg doing the opposite, circling his back to keep him close. trapping him.
lalo laughing, "naughty boy. so eager."
he slipping his foot from his chest to over his shoulder, slowly. in control. nacho parting his lips, but not moving, not until lalo says he can.
all dean has ever known has been the little sheep farm his father owns and he and sam help him take care of - the family business
but their father dies and sam gets accepted into college, and dean is left alone, the weight of the legacy and the feel of abandonment devouring him
he's unhappy, he works all day and goes out at night and drawns himself in alchool and one night stands
sam knows his brother needs help but he's too stubborn to ask for it so he hires someone on trial without telling him
castiel is a man of few words, and dean doesn't want him doesn't want him doesn't want him there, but cas is patient and he's wise and he cares about the animals, and dean doesn't want his eyes on him, doesn't care about his strong hands, doesn't like the way he talks about changes in his farm and takes up space in his house and his mind
cas sees right through him, he knows what he's doing, pushing him away, refusing his help, ignoring him. but he doesn't care, he's been hired for a job, hes' gonna do it, if he's too stubborn to accept it it's not his problem
this, until they realize they make a good team, until they realize they enjoy each other company and understand each other more than they thought they would, and that they could have a future
oh, but the trial period is up - will dean be able to tell cas not to go?
Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 15: Witch Magic or Curses
The Language of Wings | @tami-ryver
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 1,070
Main Tags/Warnings: Cursed Castiel (Supernatural), Wingfic, Angel Wings, Seraph Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Can See Castiel's Wings, Worried Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Loved, First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angel Courtship (Supernatural)
Summary: Dean gasps. He can't see anything and there is something in the room with him and Cas. Something different. His hand aches to hold a knife, a gun, something to defend himself.
True Love Wins | @bookwithwings
Rating: General
Word Count: 1,179
Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secret Relationship, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, is it established when it's secret? idk, Cursed Dean Winchester, Spells & Enchantments, fairytale trope, canonverse
Summary: After coming back from a witch hunt something is seriously wrong with Dean. Cas and Sam consult Rowena for help. She has an idea what might help.
La Verdad | @thisisapaige
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 1,432
Main Tags/Warnings: Witch Curses,Truth Spells, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Castiel gets hit by a witch's spell on a hunt— a curse that compels him to speak the truth. To keep his deepest secret unsaid, all he has to do is remain silent and avoid Dean.
That should be easy, right?
curse and birds | @dcforts
Rating: General
Word Count: 1,600
Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Comedy, Love Confessions, Accidental Curse, True Love, Men of Letters Bunker, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Christmas fic
Summary: Cas shows up on the third day with the french hens and the turtle doves and the partridge in tow.
Of Curses and Bee-Colored Mittens | @Destielshipper4Cas
Rating: General
Word Count: 3,232
Main Tags/Warnings: Witch Castiel, Strangers to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, First Kiss, Alternate Universe – Magic, Familiar Dean
Summary: After Castiel gets cursed by an evil witch, all his once-healing touch does is hurt people. He has learned to live with the fact that he can never touch anyone ever again. But a tenacious alpha doesn’t get the memo that being around him is dangerous.
Conjured | @Destielshipper4Cas
Rating: General
Word Count: 4,260
Main Tags/Warnings: Witch Castiel, Human Dean, Strangers to Lovers, Pining, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Alternate Universe - Magic
Summary: Lonely and unable to fall asleep, witch Castiel conjures an alpha to cuddle with. Night after night from midnight until one a.m. Falling in love with his own spell is a bad idea on many levels. If only Dean didn’t seem so real…
With Magic All Around | @Destielshipper4Cas
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 4,500
Main Tags/Warnings: King Dean Winchester, Witch Cas, Commoner Cas, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, First Kiss, Happy Ending
Summary: Castiel is King Dean’s court witch. During an inventory of all magical items in the castle, he touches an enchanted golden ball and is now carrying the Winchester heir.
imagine being loved by me | @abi-cosmos
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 9,659
Main Tags/Warnings: Porn with feelings, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Awkward first times, Motels, Romantic angst, Canon divergence: season 5, Sexually Inexperienced Castiel, unclear feelings, Castiel gets cursed by a witch
Summary: When Castiel gets cursed by a hunger spell, novelty dick-shaped waffles lead to everything that Dean Winchester wants.
(Set around season five.)
Virginia is for Lovers | inkdr0p (AO3)
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 10,010
Main Tags/Warnings: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Original Male Character(s), Case Fic, Witches, Dean Winchester Hates Witches, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Nearly Human Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Prayer, Cursed Dean Winchester, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, Diners, Dean Winchester and Food, Castiel Does Not Care About Gender Norms (Supernatural), Witch Sam Winchester, but not totally; he's just not afraid to admit that hunters do magic too, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel Drives the Impala (Supernatural), Castiel Wears Dean Winchester's Clothes, Castiel Gets New Clothes (Supernatural), Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt Dean Winchester, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester, Castiel Being Castiel (Supernatural), Idiots in Love
Summary: “Oh.” Castiel reaches down and plucks something long and thick and black from the folds of Dean’s shirt, then holds his open palm up to his face, fascinated.
“Cas,” Slowly, gingerly, Dean pushes himself up into a seated position, thrilled to be able to finally move but aware of how stiff he is from having lain on the cold ground all night. From his new position he can see something coiling around one of Cas’ fingers. “Forget the centipede, Cas.”
“It’s a millipede.”
“What?”
“It’s a millipede. Centipedes have a single pair of legs per body segment, while millipedes have two."
On one hand it’s very Cas of him to get hung up on a bug in the middle of a hunt, but on the other with two very noticeable corpses right nearby and the sun starting its rise in the east, they don't have the time or luxury to let this play out.
----------------
In which Dean accidentally gets himself cursed while on vacation, Cas has to help him work the case while accepting that he's not quite the angel he used to be, and Sam has to explain very basic magic to a guy who really should already know this stuff.
desire (I want to turn into you) | @alulangel
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 10,192
Main Tags/Warnings: Cursed Castiel, Love Potion/Spell, Cosmic Horniness, opposite of cosmic horror, PWP, blasphemy, Castiel’s True Form, blow job, come sharing, anal sex, top!cas/bottom!dean, stabbing to climax, set in some indeterminate time during canon don’t worry about it
Summary: When Cas and the Winchesters go after a witch, they wind up in the crosshairs of a misfired spell. Luckily it hits Cas, and surely a love spell will have no effect on an angel. But Castiel has questions. Castiel has doubts. For what might be the first time, Castiel feels... And what he feels is his fascination with Dean Winchester turn into a cosmic, unending, incomprehensible HUNGER.
A Prince's Guide To Wooing A Would-Be Wife (Without The Requisite Curse, Dragon, Kidnapping, Riddles Three, Or Traditional Peril Of Any Sort) | @an-android-in-a-tutu
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 11,708
Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, John Winchester, Naomi (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Princes & Princesses, Arranged Marriage, Curses, Enemies to Lovers, Trans Castiel (Supernatural), Gay Dean Winchester, Hair Kink, Body Hair, Feminization
Summary: Dean is a Good Prince, he does what Good Princes do: Rescue Damsels and slay Dragons. As well as solve riddles, preform impossible tasks with the help of animal companions, break curses, collect golden apples, outwit ogres and trolls, and complete any number of oddball tasks (usually in sets of three.) The only thing he can't seem to accomplish is the happily ever after: at the end of the day, of all the Princesses (or Ladies, or Second Cousins twice removed of a Duke, or simple farm girls with oddly specific birth marks) he rescues, none of them ever end up riding home with him on the back of his noble steed to live with him in happily wedded bliss. It was probably only a matter of time before his parents took the issue out of his hands. It's a Fool who plays their hand against Fate, but Fate doesn't seem to be dealing to Dean, and there's the line of succession to consider. Dean hardly minds, he's a dutiful son after all, and he's used to true love passing him by. As long as he and his wife-to-be treat each other with kindness, he's sure they can figure out how to get along. If only Princess Castiel would give him the time of day, he might be able to convince her of that too.
The Hunter's Oath | @thefandomsinhalor
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 19,895
Main Tags/Warnings: Fantasy AU, Celestial Castiel, Slow Build, Cabin Fic, Isolation, Castiel and Dean Have a Profound Bond, Angst
Summary: Tasked with the important tradition of fulfilling an Oath to a celestial being, Dean is feeling the weight of loneliness more and more, after years of isolation on the mountain. Until one night, he is gifted a surprise: the god himself shows up with the desire to explore their bond for a time. Dean goes along with it, having no choice, and prays that nobody notices he might have failed to keep the mountain undisturbed. When he learns more about his new companion and the truth behind the legend, however, Dean finds himself picturing a different kind of life. One that isn’t as solitary. And perhaps, even more peaceful than anticipated.
It's all very complex | @artichokegarden
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 20,065
Main Tags/Warnings: First Time, Porn Watching, Masturbation, Castiel Has a Sexual Awakening, Sex Pollen, Fuck Or Die, Dubious Consent, Hand Feeding, Spanking, Roleplaying, The Pizza Man, Dean Winchester Wears a Cowboy Hat, Doctor Kink, Sex Toys, Angelic Possession, Angelic Grace Sex, Sex in/on the Impala, Porn with Feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Humor
Summary: “You don’t have to turn it off,” said Cas. “Humans get unnecessarily embarrassed about sex.”
“Yeah well. Blame the bible. Angels have been known to get pretty judgy about it all.” Dean twirled the remote control distractedly. A thought seemed to strike him. He looked at Cas curiously. “Have you ever – I mean after April and all – did you ever … go on a journey of self discovery?” Cas stared at him. “Tamed the snake? Spanked the monkey? Made the beast with one back?”
Cas looked at him. Dean made a small furtive gesture with his hand. Realization dawned.
“No, Dean. That’s not something I ever felt the need to do.”
“Right. Yeah." Dean turned away. "Well, angels are missing out.”
After walking in on Dean's private time, Cas decides to do a little research and experimentation of his own and gets magically trapped in a book about sexual fantasies. And if that means Dean has to go in after him, well what are buddies for, right?
The Silence of Souls | @thefandomsinhalor
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 33,685
Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Season 13, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Godstiel, Dean Bears the Mark of Cain, Team Free Will 2.0, Trauma, Angst, Mentioned Past AU Rowena/Sam
Summary: After receiving an unexpected phone call from Patrick, a witch who Sam and Dean encountered years ago, Team Free Will 2.0 leave Dodge City behind and rush to meet him in Wichita. The reason: He claims to know a way that could help Mary cross back to their universe. His demands are reasonable and the spell is simple, but Patrick warns them that the spell is not without risks. After all, the universe always has a way of balancing itself out. Not thrilled at the idea of potentially releasing something bad into the world, they nevertheless think that Mary’s safety is worth the risk. So, the original Team Free Will cast the spell, with Jack by their side, ready to assist them against any surging danger. Unfortunately, what is unleashed upon them is far more troubling than anything they had anticipated. It’s the spell-casters’ darkest versions of themselves. Namely, Godstiel, the Boy King of Hell and Deanmon, bearer of the mark of Cain. And all three of them are determined to make themselves very comfortable in their new home.
Strawberry Moon | @casblackfeathers
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 115,403
Main Tags/Warnings: bottom!dean, bottom!castiel, reunion, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff, angst with a happy ending, familiar!dean, witch!castiel, hurt!dean, hurt!castiel, protective!dean, protective!castiel, jealous!castiel, john winchester being an asshole, soft!dean, soft!castiel, neighbors
Summary: As a child, Castiel used to fall asleep with his mother telling him bedtime stories of the prophecy she had foreseen for him — how the Strawberry Moon would one day reveal the familiar he was destined to be with.
However, it’s been twelve years since the heart-wrenching day Castiel last saw the one he hoped was meant for him, and at twenty-eight, with his magic quickly dwindling, he knows better than to keep believing in such foolish dreams.
Castiel's resolve falters with the return of his long-ago teenage crush, Dean. The familiar’s evergreen eyes and rainbow aura are still as captivating, but his past is shrouded in mystery, one that could hold the answer to what drove them apart all those years ago.
Maybe the peculiar tabby cat who seems to have taken a liking to Castiel is what it takes to make Castiel believe in the moon with shades of pink again.
Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 7: Bed Sharing
Stay like this | @tami-ryver
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 1,446
Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, one bed, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Castiel is Not a Morning Person (Supernatural),
Summary: Prompt:
I love fics where Dean and Cas (or have to) share a bed and it turns sappy and cuddly don't get me wrong. But please consider: "Stop elbowing me in the freaking ribs, Cas" • Dean complains that Cas has stolen all the blankets so Cas splays over him • "Better?" "Shut up and gimme the blankets back"
take your fast car and keep on driving | @cascigarette
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 3,069
Main Tags/Warnings: Human Castiel, Set during season 9, Homelessness, Alcohol, References to depression, Angst, Porn with Feelings, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, POV Castiel, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Bed Sharing, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel Needs a Hug
Summary: Cas is homeless, human, and alone. On a rainy night, he is stopped by a familiar face, one that he never thought he'd see again. Based loosely on the song "Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman.
Steve and I | @dcforts
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 5,920
Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s09e06 Heaven Can't Wait - Overnight Time Gap, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Light Angst, Sharing a Bed, Human!Cas, Cas has a flat
Summary: Steve signed the lease a little over a month ago.
(we are) two queens | @luckshiptoshore
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 12,765
Main Tags/Warnings: There Was Only One Bed, Sharing a Bed, Pining, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Canon Divergence, Season 8, king or two queens, blowjob, Period-Typical Homophobia, the bi hunter is gay and the gay angel is bi, Mutual Pining
Summary: In July I wrote this on my tumblr:
concept: Cas hears Dean and Sam asking for ‘two queens’ at motels so many times that one time when he and Dean are on a hunt together he walks confidently up to the front desk and says “we are two queens”. the motel owner is like “yeah bud i guessed” and puts them in a king room. Cas does not notice anything is wrong. Dean is trapped in his own personal hell and cannot say a word.
This is the fic of that post.
My Soul Whispers Your Name | @casblackfeathers
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 15,943
Main Tags/Warnings: canon divergence, friends to lovers, wing fic, winged dean, idiots in love, mutual pining, grace fic, sharing a bed, light angst with a happy ending, grace-soul bonding, domestic
Summary: When Amara tells Dean that she will give him what he needs most, the last thing he's expecting is to sprout fucking wings and to be able to sense what his own soul — and heart — really want, making it impossible for him to ignore all the feelings he's been harboring for Cas over the years.
It’s no shock that Dean’s soul is drawn to Cas like gravity and now that Dean can perceive Cas’ grace all the time, he’s constantly reminded how stupidly breathtaking it is. He had been a goner since the second he laid eyes on Cas, and this just seals the deal. Now that he’s stuck like this, he might as well pull his head out of his ass, give it a shot, and finally get what he always wanted.
Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 2: Idiots in Love
like today | @dcforts
Rating: General
Word Count: 1,798
Main Tags/Warnings: Domesticity, Light Angst
Summary: Dean is not too bothered. Outside the weather is bad, but the place it’s nearby, the job seems easy and they can be home in time for dinner. And if they hit the traffic, well, Cas will be there. They will be fine.
Call on your future self for advice and assistance | @deliciousblizzardshark
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 4,136
Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Canon, Crack Treated Seriously, Magic, Mentions of Bottom Dean Winchester, Mentions of panty kink, mentions of spanking, Mentions of healthy diets, Mention of canon-typical racist porno mag, Mention of Exercise, Drinking, Humor, Getting Together, Time Travel (kind of)
Summary: After everything and everyone is magically okay, Dean’s not sure how to deal with Castiel’s surprise love confession. At his wit’s end, he decides to cast a spell to bring his future self (or selves, it turns out) to the Bunker for help. The only problem? Future Dean Winchester(s) are still Dean Winchester... and Dean Winchester is an asshole.
The Dadification of Castiel Novak | @Runraerun
Rating: General
Word Count: 4,780
Main Tags/Warnings: Idiots in love, Canon compliant, rewriting the Cas love confession scene, first kiss, growing old together, Cas has a hard time reading faces, prosopagnosia, Castiel is Jack Kline’s parent, Castiel and Dean Winchester need to use their words, Castiel and Dean Winchester use their words, We can have nice things, fluff, Sam teasing Dean as is his god given right as his little brother, team free will 2.0. No warnings apply.
Summary: When one of Cas’ old I.D.’s gets rejected, Sam and Dean tell him afterwards it’s because his picture is outdated—but this doesn’t make any sense, Castiel explains; Angel vessels don’t age.
Dean has to break it to Cas that he doesn’t look like he’s in his 20’s anymore.
You Will Get Wet | @notastupidbird
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6,858
Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, 5+1 Things, Comedy, Food Service Worker Dean Winchester, Lifeguard Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Idiots in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Porn With Plot, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Theme Parks, Waterpark, Early Aughts, POV Dean Winchester
Summary: The summer of 2003 could more accurately be described as the summer from Hell. It was Dean's second year working in concessions at the local water park which meant it was his second year of sunburn, screaming children, wet dollar bills, and having to stare at Cas, the unbearably hot lifeguard stationed directly across from his stand.
Or, five times Dean completely failed at trying to talk to his summer crush plus the one time he didn't have to.
as for prophecies, they will pass away (WIP) | @danishdeity
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 9,208
Main Tags/Warnings: Slow burn, fix-it, angst and hurt/comfort, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, masturbation,
Summary: Dean has worked tirelessly to bring Castiel back from the Empty, but once he finally manages, he just avoids Cas. Dean is determined to give Cas a shot at a happy life, but in order to do that, maybe he has to step back?
But having Cas around all the time stirs some thoughts and a lot of panic.
Icarus to Your Certainty (WIP) | @Miaintheimpala
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 9,842
Main Tags/Warnings: POV Castiel (Supernatural), Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair (Supernatural), Tooth-rotting Fluff, Fluff and Angst, No Smut, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester Are Jack Kline's Parents, Castiel and Dean Winchester Are Claire Novak's Parents, Jack Is Not God, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Idiots in Love, Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious Sam Winchester, Angst With A Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Fix-it
Summary: Icarus and Castiel both flew to their suns and fell. They both lost their wings and drowned, but there's one difference between these two stories: after being drowned in the depths of The Shadow, Castiel wakes up on a concrete floor.
Phantom Manor On the Hill of Big Thunder Mountain | @melancholictearz
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 18,274
Main Tags/Warnings: AU - Amusement Park, Dean Wears a Cowboy Hat, Cowboy!Dean, Ghost Butler!Castiel, Summer Romance, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Meet-Cute
Summary: A PLACE WHERE ERAS AND CENTURIES MERGE INTO A SUMMER STORY.
Dean struts around Frontierland in cowboy boots and a hat all day for a living— that’s what his summer job is about, at Big Thunder Mountain attraction in the Far West-themed area of Disneyland Parks. He’s pleased with his current life as it is, until his eyes fall on Castiel, the new haunted butler working at Phantom Manor ride next door.
Only a lake separates the two rides but Dean’s inability to stay normal in front of his crush might be the biggest obstacle in the whole painting.
Fanfictionland | @verobatto
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 21,165
Main Tags/Warnings: Alternative universe jumping, canonverse, idiots in love, mutual pining, cowboys, pirates, regency era, medieval, comedy, fanfic writers, TFW 2.0, season 8.
Summary: Imagine a destiel writer with the power of one of the tablets. Imagine that destiel shipper writer trying to make Destiel canon, using different ideas. Now, imagine Dean and Castiel jumping from fic to fic, following the script, tropes and AUs we all know while Sam, Kevin and Becky try to stop that mess. Yep, someone had to do it...
The Architect Of Fate | @verobatto
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 23,446
Main Tags/Warnings: Magic, modern setting, fate architect!Castiel, first meetings, character development, winged Castiel, pining, falling in love, top!Castiel/bottom!Dean Winchester, miscommunication
Summary: Dean Winchester tries to live his life without any attachments as he looks for the perfect job that brings him money and prestige.
But things are not going well for him following the path he decides to make.
His luck changes when he meets Naomi, the leader of the Fate Architect Corporation. He only has to fill a form with the life of his dreams, and follow the instructions Castiel will give him, as his assigned Architect.
It's time for Dean to get the life he deserves and get the perfect job and the perfect girlfriend. If only Castiel wasn't that beautiful, he could perfectly focus on his targets.
Or…
How a grumpy and professional Architect of Fate, named Castiel, has to lead with a stubborn and noisy human.
White Lightning (WIP) | @scatterbugged
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 24,941
Main Tags/Warnings: top!Dean, Bottom!Cas, Castiel's Grace, Touch-Starved DeanCas, Mutual Pining, Anxiety, Post season 15, AU, Castiel Has Sensitive Wings, Love Confessions, Dean Being Stupid, Dean and his Self-Worth Issues, Anal Sex, Dean and Cas in the Bunker
Summary: It started in the kitchen, he thinks, the bursting of this weirdo thing they have between the two of them. Maybe the kitchen's the wrong spot to pinpoint- maybe it was those years ago, stood in an old, dank barn gripping fear and that demon blade. Or, rather, it was before all that, with Dean cutting folks up on the racks and carving out those rictus faces, and Cas still thinking he was worth saving anyway. Wherever it was- Dean thinks now, it really started to break in the kitchen, after everything else is said and done, and when it ends up spilling, he'll be left alone to clean up the mess.
- or -
Castiel's a little bit human, a little bit angel nowadays ever since he got spit out of the Empty, and both his body and his grace are still adjusting. Dean's more than willing to help his buddy out.
Indeana Jones and the Tear of Pele | @amaranthhiding
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 32,679
Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Beach Vacation, Adventure, Hawaiian Mythology, Fallen Angel Castiel, Humor, Light Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Mystery, Castiel's True Form, Castiel's Wings, Mutual Pining, Dean in Denial, Dean Makes Up Ridiculous Excuses for Touch, Castiel Uses Sarcasm, Castiel Goes Missing, Castiel and Dean Save Each Other, First Kiss, First Time, Grace-Powered Orgasm, Post-Season 11 Canon Divergence, DCRB 2024
Summary: What starts as a relaxing beach vacation in Hawai’i turns into a journey of self-discovery for Castiel and Dean.
To save the world from the Darkness, they both faced what they thought to be their imminent demise and came out the other side very much still alive. So now they have to ponder the really big questions, such as what a bucket list is, what place in the world a fallen angel has, and how Indiana Jones ever managed to keep that hat on his head.
The island seems to have a way of making the barrier of touch crumble to dust until they're sliding toward the edge of something new and fragile between them that neither of them dares to put a name to, lest it might disappear.
When what really disappears is Castiel, there's very little Dean wouldn't do to get the angel back.
Even The Chicken is Gay | @avonlady42
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 53,730
Main Tags/Warnings: Gay Chicken, Dean and Castiel are clueless, top castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, switching, marriage, mile high club, smut, adoption
Summary: Their senior year in high school, Charlie dares Dean and Castiel to play a game of gay chicken which they both reluctantly accept. Their friends wait impatiently to see who will chicken out first, but they’ve all given up on that happening when they show up to their 20-year high school reunion having been married for 14 years and both of them still thinking they are straight and in denial that they are in love with each other.
This is based on a prompt from a meme on the Destiel forever Facebook group:
In high school I was dared to play “gay chicken,” which is where two straight guys pretend to be gay, and the first one to chicken out loses. The other guy and I are really stubborn, and neither one of us wanted to lose. We’ve been married 14 years and run a bed and breakfast in Vermont with our adopted daughter. If that dude doesn’t chicken out soon, I’m going to start to suspect he’s actually gay.
My Cryo Sleeping Beauty | @thefandomsinhalor
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 55,356
Main Tags/Warnings: Space AU, Action/Adventure, Torture, Gabriel Is The Narrator, Humor, Misunderstandings, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean, Denial, Hunted, Flirting, Minor Sabriel,
Summary: Let me tell you a story about two adorable, yet frustrating, knuckleheads in love. We got Dean Winchester of Venandi, who wakes up on an unknown spaceship with a half-naked man in his arms, and no memory of how this happened. Cuddling him oh-so lovingly, we have, fresh out of cryo sleep, prisoner James Novak, who is equally confused about his whereabouts and to find Dean sharing a bed with him. Now, prisoner Novak is really Castiel, an old acquaintance of Dean’s and his real identity appears to be only known by Dean. That’s when the mercenary Henriksen, doing Empress Amara’s bidding, stumbles upon them and crashes their little (freak out) moment. While dealing with Castiel’s mysterious past and Dean’s personal and urgent quest, they have no choice but to work side by side as they banter away to escape from everyone’s clutches and find out what really happened. I know you might be skeptical. People often ask me, “How in all the stars do you possibly know all of this, Gabe?” The answer is very simple: I’m part of the story! I witnessed first hand their tribulations and lovey-dovey looks. Well, some part of it. As for the rest…Well I’m all about tall tales.
2024 SUBMISSION TIME HAS ARRIVED - THE TROPE COLLECTION IS AFTER YOUR FICS!
The Destiel Trope Collection is a SELF-REC collection for destiel fanfic full of tropes. Every year the list is voted for by you and the highest voted gets listed for the 31 days of May. If you have any questions, please ask!
Below (the readmore) is a list of the tropes that will be included in this year’s collection (all voted by you peeps!).
SUBMIT YOUR FICS HERE
WHAT CAN YOU SEND?
Completed fic? YES
Work In Progress? YES (if currently being updated)
Old fics? YES
New fics? YES
Fics written specifically for this collection? YES
Short fics? YES (over 1k words)
Long fics? YES (no max word count)
10 fics? YES
1 fic? YES
WHAT CAN’T YOU SEND?
A fic that wasn’t written by you - if you co-authored it, then that’s fine as long as you have permission of your co-author to submit it
A fic shorter than 1,000 words. Due to a popular result on the feedback form, the minimum word count is 1k.
The same fic several times in several tropes. A single fic is only allowed in one list, so, if it fits in several, pick the best one, or draw straws (up to you).
See the full rules and submission guidelines here.
SCHEDULE
2nd January 2024 - Submissions open
25th April 2024 - Submissions close
1st May 2024 - Day 1 of the Trope Collection Posts
1st June 2024 - Masterpost goes up
QUESTIONS?
Send a message or IM to @destieltropecollection!
THE LIST ↴
Angst with Happy Ending
Idiots in Love
Friends to Lovers
Hurt/Comfort
Touch-Starved
Canon Divergent
Bed Sharing
Fake Married for a Case
Empty Rescue
Wing Fic
Enemies to Lovers
Fake Dating
Case Fic
Soulmates
Witch Magic or Curses
Secret Relationship
Roommates
Amnesia
Two-Person Love Triangle
Canon Compliant
Cowboy!AU/Ranch
Omegaverse
Established Relationship
Fluff
Firsts
BDSM
Single parent AU
Coffee Shop AU
Murder Husbands
Whump
Cabin Fic
5.9k. S09E06 fanfiction gap but Cas has a flat. Domestic, light angst.
theirprofoundbond - thank you for all the work that you've done to help me with this one and all the kind words and you gifted me with.
Read on ao3
Steve signed the lease a little over a month ago. It’s a second-story one-bedroom, in a building that is just two narrow flights of stairs, flickering ceiling lights and dirty carpets.
Cas doesn’t tell Dean that, he just gives him directions and points to a parking space out front. When the Impala quiets down, Dean doesn’t ask any questions and Cas is grateful for that. He fishes his keys from his pocket and leads him inside.
He says, “It’s a good neighborhood,” as they climb up, because that’s what you’re supposed to say. It’s what his landlady said when she led him up the first time, maybe to distract him from the cracks in the walls and the smell of laundry detergents coming from the laundromat next door.
He says that, even if Dean knows better than anyone that you can’t really be safe, no matter where you are, and even if it wouldn’t really make a difference for Cas who, grace or not, could still kill a man in the blink of an eye.
Dean follows him inside, past the little entryway and into the living room.
Cas turns on the lights and walks across the dusty carpet and around the coffee table to get to the window and open it. The cold evening air brings in noises from the street and allows him to breathe more easily. For a moment, in the dark and the musty air, it felt like being underwater.
Dean says, “Hey, it’s not bad,” only a beat too late. He looks around, nodding to himself. “Yeah. Nice, uh, couch.”
It’s a simply distributed space; if one drew it from above, it would resemble a square, divided up into uneven boxes facing each other in pairs. On one side the living room and the bedroom, and on the opposite one, the kitchen and the bathroom. Dean could tour the whole thing in fifteen steps or fewer if he so wished.
It seems even smaller with him in it now.
“Everything here came with the apartment,” Cas says.
It’s not exactly true. In the kitchen, on the wall just behind the fridge, there’s a complimentary calendar that he got from a shipment of energy drinks. Cas brought it home and hung it there, because Steve needs to pay attention to what month it is and what day it is—he has rent to pay, shifts at work, bills and deadlines.
Cas painted wards and sigils on walls and floors; Steve covered them up with dull paintings and soft carpets.
Nora gave Steve a succulent that sits on the windowsill of his bedroom. Cas only remembers to check on it when he is in bed, and he turns on his side. Most of the time, he’s too tired to get up again, says to himself he’ll do it in the morning, then he forgets again.
Cas doesn’t care about furniture; he doesn’t care about things. About the old couch that groans when you sit on it, about the low batteries in the TV remote. He doesn’t care about the dust in the empty flower vase on the shelf or the light in the bathroom that goes out sometimes.
Steve does. When he comes home after a ten-hour shift, the couch does not help his stiff and aching back. When he gets up at night to go to the bathroom, he has to be careful not to trip over things in the dark. Steve minds about furniture, about having hot water, a working washing machine and a window that opens all the way.
Cas doesn’t care about having a home, but Steve does, so now Cas has an address and a mailbox.
Steve needs so many things, some days Cas can barely keep up.
Dean is still standing there and seems unsure what to do. Cas can’t bear the sight of him in the apartment. This wasn’t something he’d ever planned on seeing, but nothing had gone according to his plans today.
He puts down the keys he realizes he’s still clenching and goes back toward the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?” he says, because that’s what you’re supposed to say when you have people over at your apartment. He’s seen it on TV plenty of times.
He stands in front of the open fridge and scans the shelves—the carton of eggs, the half-eaten burrito, the jar of grape jelly—and says, “I only have water.”
“Water is fine,” Dean says, his voice a little strained.
This entire situation must make him as uncomfortable as Cas is. He’d followed him to the threshold of the kitchen and it looks like he’s feeling larger than he is, one shoulder pressing against the door frame. His gaze wanders over the surroundings: the beige walls, the bowl of bananas and oranges on the table and the teaspoon on the edge of the sink.
That morning Steve had used it to stir his coffee and then forgot to wash it. He was distracted because he was checking his mail. He collects it at night, but sometimes he’s too tired to look at it before bed and he leaves it for the morning.
Dean doesn’t comment on any of it. “Are you alright?” he asks, as Cas hands him a tall glass with his bandaged hand.
“It’s just a cut.”
“I didn’t mean that,” Dean says.
Cas walks past him. “I’m fine.”
He goes back to the entryway to take off his shoes and put them away and he feels Dean watching him from around the corner. He senses that he has no intention of letting go of the conversation.
“That angel—he came for you, didn’t he?”
Cas sucks in a breath. He’d known the question was coming; he’d spent the silent journey over dreading it and wondering how much Dean had heard of his conversation with Ephraim. He really doesn’t want to talk about what he said; he doesn’t even want to think about it.
“Because you’re in pain,” Dean adds.
Cas keeps his eyes on the ground and wonders if Dean is thinking about that night not that long ago, when he’d confessed how much guilt he was carrying. I might kill myself.
“He was mistaken.”
Dean doesn’t buy it. “So you’re fine. We’re gonna leave it at that?” he insists.
Cas fixes his eyes on the pea-green wallpaper in front of him. “Ephraim is gone and I’m tired. I’ve got work in the morning.”
“Right, yeah,” Dean says, sounding weird again. He shifts on the spot, looks down at his water. “I should, uh—”
Cas doesn’t meet his eyes but he says, “You can stay. The couch is a pull-out.”
Dean says okay, then, even though there’s a motel room already paid for with all his stuff in it. He says okay, even though the living room window doesn’t have blinds or curtains to keep the light out and Cas has no spare pillow.
Cas goes over to the couch and starts removing the cushions.
“You don’t need to do that,” Dean says, but Cas doesn’t stop maneuvering the coffee table out of the way.
“You have a long drive tomorrow.”
And there’s that.
There’s a big blinking neon sign on the other side of the street that paints Cas’ bedroom walls in red and pink and purple. Cas rarely bothers with turning on the lights in this room. The landlady promised to get Steve some heavy curtains, but she hasn’t come back yet. Cas doesn’t mind. One night the sign was down for maintenance, and he had trouble falling asleep without its constant shifting colors.
He’s looking for clean sheets while Dean uses his little bathroom, and then all of a sudden he’s standing in the doorway, as if hesitant to come in for some reason. He’s only in his jeans.
“Do you have a T-shirt I could borrow?”
Cas goes to the dresser where Steve keeps his T-shirts—he’d paid ten dollars for a pack of three—and picks a dark one for Dean. He smells of the shower gel with the tropical fruit on the bottle.
Cas got it because the ads say it will nourish and soften his skin and Steve’s skin gets dry when it’s windy. He also has shaving cream in the cabinet, a razor, a toothbrush, a box of bandaids. Sometimes Cas stops and looks at Steve in the mirror and asks himself if he’ll ever get used to it, to being this, just this. Sometimes he lies in bed and watches the ceiling change colors and wonders how long he will need to wait before he stops feeling fragile.
“Do you want me to take a look at that?” Dean asks, gesturing with his chin to his bandaged hand.
“I’ll do it,” Cas says and he knows this rejection will unnerve Dean more than his refusal to talk. He reminds Cas of a bug bumping against a window, but Cas isn’t ready for him to take a look inside yet, let alone come in.
Dean clenches his jaw for just a moment, then lets it go. Cas follows him to the living room with clean sheets in his arms and makes the pull-out bed while Dean pokes around in his kitchen, with the excuse of getting another glass of water. Cas hears him open cabinets and pull out drawers. It seems like it didn’t take him long to make himself at home.
Cas isn’t sure he likes that.
Maybe it’s because it still hurts. When he got to the bunker, he’d thought that he had nothing to worry about anymore, and what he had gone through since the fall had just been a rocky journey to get back home. He wasn’t alone, he had simply been misplaced, but now he could rest.
He’d been naive. Dean had made it clear that he didn’t belong there, and it was a confusing truth he had to learn to accept. And yet, it still hurts. He’d thought it didn’t anymore; he’d thought the bitterness had left him but maybe it doesn’t happen like that. Maybe it lingers and lingers. You think it’s gone, but it’s not. Maybe he won’t ever be rid of it.
Cas thought he had been hurt before. For sure, he had felt sorrow and disappointment.
But the open wound inside his chest is a crater, and it’s swallowed him, and he has to make his way back out and he’s not sure he’s there yet.
He’s exhausted though, especially tonight, with the things Ephraim said still ringing, true and inevitable, in his ears.
Dean pops his head through the kitchen door. “Do you cook?”
“Occasionally.”
“Really?” He sounds surprised. “What d’you make?”
“Eggs.”
Steve likes eggs in the morning, with coffee—two sugars. But not orange juice. It makes his stomach burn for hours. He breaks and scrambles one egg in a pan with butter and pepper. Some days, Steve is so tired the eggshell breaks in small pieces and the kitchen gets dirty, and sometimes he wakes up late and rushes through the door. He eats a donut at work—but only the pink kind. The chocolate ones have a weird aftertaste.
“That it?”
“I have lunch at work, and I buy something for dinner on the way home.”
And if he’s too tired to stand in line or doesn’t feel like eating anything, there’s always peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Dean nods thoughtfully.
Cas thinks he’s passed some sort of test, but maybe not with the highest of grades, because Dean adds, “You— I mean, you’re eating enough, right?”
Oh, so he does worry.
Cas thinks of that time he’d had expired food and stayed awake the whole night: his stomach cramping, face pressed against the cool surface of his bathroom tiles, dreading the next wave of nausea, thinking he was going to die, his thumb hovering over Dean’s name in his contacts more times than he feels comfortable remembering. Wishing to hear his voice.
Not calling.
“I think so,” Cas says.
Dean slips out of his jeans and sits on the edge of the bed that groans under his weight.
Cas should go and take care of his hand. Steve needs to sleep; he has tomorrow’s opening shift. New products to shelve and customers to serve. Usually at this time of night, Steve has already turned in.
But when he starts for the bathroom, Dean says, “Hey, wait,” and Cas has no choice but to stop, because Dean is here now, in the middle of his living room, and Dean unbalances everything.
“You don’t wanna talk about it—that’s fine. I just wanna say that whatever Ephraim told you, you don’t need to listen to him. You got a good thing going here. You got a job, you got a place for yourself. You got a chance to get out. Like, really get out.”
Something colors Dean’s voice that makes Cas suspicious. He doesn’t want to start a conversation, but he can recognize when Dean’s trying to say something without saying it.
“I have a responsibility toward my kind. Even if I can’t do much, I should try.”
“I know,” he says, but he’s fidgeting. “It’s just too dangerous out there right now. You said it yourself: after what happened with Metatron, angels are all over, looking for you.”
Cas holds his gaze and doesn’t say anything. Dean blinks one too many times. There’s something he’s not telling him, Cas knows.
“I’m just saying,” he starts again, and goes on as if he’s choosing his words carefully. “I get that you want to make things right, but maybe you can wait a little longer?”
His words hang in the air. Cas studies the way Dean’s eyebrows arch over his eyes, the tight lines around his mouth. He’s still convinced he can hide things from Cas, maybe now more than ever, but Cas sees him. Dean always forgets that.
“What is it?” Cas finally asks, fixing his gaze on Dean.
That’s all it takes. Dean sighs and it’s as much as a confession.
“Crowley said there’s no reversing the spell,” he says then, and he looks like he’s bracing himself for Cas’ reaction.
Somehow though, it doesn’t come as a blow. It doesn’t hurt him, it doesn’t shake his world. Cas registers Dean’s words and he surprises himself by thinking that he’s not broken by them.
He never expected that it would be easy for things to go back to they were.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t go back,” he reasons. “We can still find a way.”
“So you wanna go back.”
Cas is taken by surprise, not so much by his words, but by the way Dean blurts them out, almost as if they had escaped before he could control them—urgent, as if he could be directly affected by his choice. Cas can’t understand what difference it makes to Dean if Cas is on Earth or not, when he’s the one who sent him away in the first place.
“I don’t want to be trapped,” he says, a kind way out of a reply, and he feels his good hand close in a fist. This is not where he was supposed to be, where he was born to be.
Of course, he doesn’t want to leave Earth—not forever. Even back when he’d thought he was closing the Gates of Heaven, he was leaving because he had no other choice, and coming to terms with that was one of the hardest things Cas had ever done.
Dean acts as if he doesn’t know that, and maybe he really doesn’t. But Cas is still in pain and won’t clear that up for him; he won’t show himself needy of his company and his time.
“Yeah, no, I get that,” Dean says, but he sounds like he got the opposite of what Cas was trying to say. Cas won’t correct his misunderstandings. Not tonight. He’s feeling weak enough.
Cas leaves the room; there is not much else to say.
The springs of the mattress Dean is sleeping on groan whenever he moves.
Cas hears him from his bedroom. They groan and groan and groan. It makes it impossible for Cas to relax enough to fall asleep, even though he’s exhausted and the wound on his hand has started throbbing again.
He’d disinfected it and wrapped it in clean bandages, but he doesn’t have any painkillers, so he grinds his teeth and hopes it’ll be morning before he realizes.
The mattress groans and groans and then, when Cas resigns himself to the fact that he won’t get any sleep, the sound suddenly stops. Dean could have managed to fall asleep but somehow Cas doesn’t think that’s the case. The hair on the back of his neck stands up when he hears Dean’s footsteps coming toward his bedroom.
There’s a moment of silence and Cas doesn’t dare turn around. Then the bathroom door shuts and he lets out a breath.
The toilet flushes a few moments later, the door opens, and again, silence.
Cas frowns, rolls onto his back to find Dean standing there, just a dark silhouette in the door in the purple light—still behind that invisible wall that won’t let him cross the threshold.
“Dean?”
“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, “Sorry, uh, I can’t sleep on that bed so…”
The neon blinks in pink and Cas notices Dean’s wearing his jeans again. The thought of him slipping into the night, and Cas finding nothing but an empty apartment in the morning, has his heart pounding in his chest.
“You can sleep in here,” he says, and his voice sounds broken and loud.
“Uh, you don’t ha— I’ll be fine on the floor with just an extra blanket or something.”
The color in the room changes again. Dean wasn’t going to leave. Cas is confused by his emotions; his heart won’t behave, his ears start ringing, his insides burning. He didn’t want him here in the first place, so why does the thought of him going away hurt so much?
“I don’t have an extra blanket,” he says in the end, and then scoots over and gives him his back. “It’s late,” he adds and hopes it’s enough to end the conversation.
“Alright,” comes Dean’s voice, and then there is the sound of footsteps, his jeans hitting the floor and then the comforter is lifting, the mattress sinking.
Cas still can’t relax. Not when he can feel the tension in the room, Dean’s body rigid on the bed and his intakes of breath telling him that he’s getting ready to speak.
He doesn’t have to wait long.
“Cas?”
Cas had thought he wanted an apology from Dean more than anything.
He thought about it at night, imagined what he would say if he called, if he wrote it in a text message, if he showed up at his door. But when Dean says, “I’m sorry,” right there and then, Cas realizes he doesn’t need it anymore. He has forgiven him already.
“I know I let you down,” Dean says, “I should be here for you.”
And Cas had thought about what to say to him a million times. To make him feel worse, to spike his guilt, to reject him completely.
He can’t do it. He’s never wanted to be one of the things Dean blames himself for. He won’t be one of them tonight, either.
There’s an open wound inside his chest, but telling Dean how much he’d hurt him would only make it deeper.
He says the only thing that feels true. He says, “I’m not mad.”
“You’re not okay though, are you?”
Cas doesn’t know if he can find the right words to explain how he feels.
He rolls onto his back, fixes his eyes on the ceiling and watches it as it changes: red, purple, pink, and red again.
He tries, “I’m not myself.”
Dean shifts on his spot and now he’s looking at him. Cas can feel his gaze and knows Dean is frowning.
“What do you mean?” It comes as a whisper, worry bracketing each of his words.
“I don’t know who I am.”
“You’re Cas,” Dean says with a familiar high note of stubbornness and confusion.
That’s probably what does it. Cas’ lips start trembling, his eyes prickling. There’s a sudden lump in his throat, his chest starts hurting, and then there are hot tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, rolling down his temples and disappearing into his hair. The tickling sensation on his skin and in his nose is not entirely unpleasant, but he has to keep swallowing and can’t bring himself to talk.
Dean sees all of it. He stays absolutely still but when he speaks, every word is soaked in a softness that makes him feel even closer than he is.
“You’re still an angel. Without grace, okay, but that doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change who you are,” he says, and he sounds like he knows for sure.
Cas knows this is hard on Dean. To see his tears and to know that this time he can’t say what he usually says: I’ll take care of it, I’ll figure something out, Let me handle this. Because tomorrow he’ll be gone. He’ll hop in his car and drive away, and nothing will change that. So he can’t take Cas' burden now, like he always tries to do, like he does with everyone else.
“You’re still you,” he keeps going. “And you know, I really meant what I said earlier. You are doing one hell of a job, managing all this on your own. Being human sucks. Like, truly, sucks. Of course you hate it.”
Dean’s words have a tentative lightness to them and Cas knows he’s trying to cheer him up so he makes an effort to smile. He takes a deep breath and glances at him.
“I don’t hate it,” he says, his voice still a little broken. “I just… want my grace back. I want to feel like myself again.”
Cas doesn’t look away from him and doesn’t move a muscle, not even when Dean says, “Okay,” and reaches out with one hand to rub away a tear on his temple. The touch is unexpected, and Cas eyes’ close on their own for a moment. Dean is serious now. “We’ll get it back.”
In Dean’s eyes Cas finds something that, incredibly, resembles understanding. Does he understand? Is he comparing Cas’ grace being ripped from him with the bite of the Hellhounds tearing him apart? Is he thinking of Hell consuming his soul? Is he thinking of losing Sam?
Cas doesn’t know, but somehow the understanding is there, and there’s no need for him to say more.
“I’ll start looking as soon as I get back, okay?” Dean says.
Cas nods and his tears are replaced with a calm certainty: that Dean is here, that he himself is not completely lost, that there’s a possibility to feel whole again. He doesn’t even remember how he could have thought everything was so hopeless.
“Okay,” he says, and worries that he will feel silly and ashamed once Dean turns around again, and the moment will be gone. But Dean stays where he is. He settles down on his side with his head on his arm because the only pillow is too small for the both of them.
“You’ll be alright,” he says, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing once. Next to Dean, Cas believes it.
Slowly, Dean’s breathing evens out. The rhythm is so familiar that Cas' body relaxes to it. He has lost count of how many hours he spent in a dark room with this sound, back when he used to watch over him while he slept.
Cas lets out a deep breath and closes his eyes. Then he feels it—a touch on his shoulder again, Dean’s fingertips on the fabric of his sleeve, then the same featherlight touch of a knee against his bare thigh, right below the hem of his boxer shorts. No real pressure, just a light contact, but it starts a gentle prickle that travels through Cas’ body and fills his chest and limbs. He’s never felt anything like it.
Cas keeps his eyes closed and his body still and he falls asleep like that, thinking that Dean has never been close to him like this before. Whether it’s chemistry or instinct, maybe it’s now and it’s here, because somehow humanity makes him more accessible, more recognizable to Dean: the warmth of his skin, the smell of his body, the beating of his heart.
And so maybe there is, at last, something Cas can be grateful to Steve for.
It’s not quite morning when Cas wakes up. He doesn’t need an alarm. Even when Steve gets a day off, Cas still wakes up very early.
He doesn’t like lingering in bed for too long, because his mind gets busy with thoughts and memories, and he has to occupy his hands to make them go away. But Steve needs his rest on his days off, so Cas stays under the blanket until his bladder or his stomach start complaining.
This morning, his limbs feel heavy and his nose is stuffy, and he can’t remember why.
He reaches out to grab his phone and check the time, and it’s the hand with the bandage that reminds him what happened the day before.
It reminds him that this morning is nothing like every other morning, that there’s someone lying next to him, and that someone is Dean. He can feel the heat of his body warming his back.
He sits up on his side of the bed and only then dares to look over his shoulder. Yes, Dean is still there, asleep on his stomach, one arm bent under his head, Cas’ shirt stretched over his shoulders.
Dean probably senses his gaze, because he opens his eyes and looks back at him, his signature morning pout on his lips.
Cas thinks he must make quite a sight; with the window behind his back, he must be just a silhouette against the weak morning light, his hair sticking up, his clothes wrinkled.
He wants to speak, but he’s forgotten the first thing people usually say to each other in the morning.
Dean’s brain must still be foggy because he doesn’t comment on the fact that Cas is just staring at him. After a moment, he blinks and yawns and lets out a mumbled “You got a really nice bed,” as if it isn’t just a mattress and a metal frame.
“Thank you,” Cas says, and only then remembers that what he was supposed to say was, Good morning.
It’s too late now, but it doesn’t seem to matter.
“What time is it?”
“Five-thirty.”
Dean smiles in bliss. His eyes are glassy. “I haven’t slept six hours in a long time.” He yawns again. “You getting up?”
“Yes, but you can stay longer,” Cas says. “I’m going to get dressed.”
Dean nods and rubs his face and then follows Cas with his gaze while he gathers things around the room.
“I’ll be up in a sec. I’m gonna make you eggs,” he says.
He’s pulled Steve’s pillow to his side and made himself comfortable again, stretching his legs and taking up space. Cas can’t resist turning to watch him from the door. He looks like a dream in the early morning light.
Dean’s eyes are still on him and Cas suddenly feels exposed, with his bare thighs and calves. He’s seen Dean in various states of undress plenty of times, but he’s not sure Dean’s ever seen him, and he doesn’t know what it means that he’s watching.
“Okay,” Cas agrees. After last night, it’s an easy concession to make. The corner of Dean’s mouth quirks up, and Cas feels himself mirroring him.
Dean is a great cook. Cas has heard him boast about it in the past, but this is the first time that he’s tried his cooking.
His eggs are good, more savory and less runny than his, and they come with toast.
“I never have toast with my eggs,” Cas comments.
“What’s with all the bread, then?”
“It’s for PB&J.”
That makes Dean snort a laugh. He’d moved the bowl with the fruit to the counter next to the sink and poured coffee into two mismatched mugs. Now, he sits across from him and digs into his plate.
He’s already dressed, shoes on too. Cas doesn’t mention that he’s still wearing the T-shirt he borrowed. He’s pretty sure the black one he had on before is still where he left it, on the hook behind his bathroom door, and he wants to keep it that way.
The time is running out and he doesn’t know how to convince himself there’s no point in wishing it could stop.
“You can use bread to do lots of things,” Dean is saying. “Ever had French toast?”
Cas shakes his head.
“Alright, I’ll make you some next time.”
“Next time?” Cas repeats, almost losing his grip on the mug he’s bringing to his lips.
Dean puts down his fork, picks it up again, avoids his gaze. “I just thought— It’s not that I want to bring the bad guys to your door, obviously, but maybe I could slip out here sometimes. I’d be careful.”
Cas' face must be asking, Why?, because Dean rushes to add, “Just, you know, to see how you’re doing.” He massages one of his thighs out of nervousness, then in a light tone, he says, “First thing, I’m buying you groceries, replacing that couch, and fixing the light in the bathroom.”
Cas puts down his coffee mug, anger rising in his chest. “No.”
Dean hadn’t expected that. His face crumbles all at once, showing hurt and confusion. “Wh—?”
“You can come here, but as a friend. I don’t want a caretaker.”
“What?” he exclaims in disbelief. “I didn’t say that.”
“I’m serious, Dean.” Cas clenches his jaw; this is the last thing he wanted. “I don’t need your pity and I don’t need you to parent me.”
Dean’s eyes widen. “That’s not what I meant!” he says, raising his voice. He gets up and circles around his chair, taking a moment to calm down. “Jesus, Cas, I don’t wanna be your parent. I know you don’t need me, I just—” He sighs, frustrated, shakes his head. “I— I didn’t mean that,” he says, looking up at him like he does sometimes when he wants to say something but doesn’t know how.
Cas knows that look. It takes all the fight out of him. Without the anger, all that’s left is the knowledge that Dean might come back and this might not be the only morning they spend in this kitchen. It’s an unbearable thought, difficult to grasp—almost as difficult as it had been to imagine Dean here before yesterday. “Well then, in that case, it’s fine, I’d like that,” Cas says, and Dean deflates in front of him like a balloon.
Cas takes the dishes to the sink, gives them a quick wash. He wonders what happens now.
“Are you leaving right away?” he asks, sneaking a glance over his shoulder.
“Nah, I can give you a ride to work,” Dean says casually. And then, in a different tone, he adds, “Go on, go brush your teeth and get your jacket.”
Cas throws him a look, his mouth already open in protest, but Dean is grinning at him. “Just kidding.”
Cas rolls his eyes.
The ride is quiet and the closer they get, the sadder Cas feels.
It’s a dull pain that presses down the corners of his mouth and makes him clench a fist, irrationally resenting green lights and empty roads, pedestrians that wait on the sidewalk instead of crossing and slowing them down.
Dean talks about getting Cas a car and doesn’t seem to mind or notice that Cas barely responds. He’s probably just doing it to fill the silence. He stops in front of the entrance, and Cas doesn’t expect him to, but he turns off the engine and gets out to say goodbye.
He lingers in front of Cas, his eyes wandering from him to the Gas-n-Sip windows, to the gas pump, down to the asphalt, up to Cas again.
Cas is no fool; he knows that it could be a long time before they see each other again.
“Let me know if you see any of the angels,” Cas says to stop that line of thought. “They may despise me, but they know we need to work together.”
“Yeah, sure,” Dean says, a wrinkle in between his eyebrows.
“Say hello to Sam for me.”
Dean sets his jaw and doesn’t say anything, and Cas feels there’s something there he doesn’t know. But they’ve run out of time. He takes a step forward and hugs him.
Hugging him as a human is different. It’s warmer, for one thing. Cas feels his own breath pushing his chest against Dean’s, his heart picking up the pace. And then there’s the scent of him. Cas can’t resist leaning his head into the crook of Dean’s neck, to feel his warm skin against his cheek, breathe him in.
Dean’s hands come up after only a moment to rest under his shoulder blades. He lets Cas hold him for longer than he thought he would.
“Hey,” he says then. “You can call me anytime—you know that, right?”
Cas nods, takes a breath, and steps away.
Dean seems sad now. He flashes a smile, but it’s not genuine. He looks like he’s about to say I’m sorry again. Cas wishes he wouldn’t, and thankfully he doesn’t.
Instead he says, “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” Cas tries to smile, too, but he thinks it comes out all wrong. “I’ll see you soon.”
"Yeah,” Dean says, now walking backward. “Buy me a pillow, will you?” He points and flashes another of his fake smiles. He gets to the car door. “Toothbrush, too.”
“Okay,” Cas says.
The door opens with a creak.
Dean looks at him over the roof.
“Have a good day at work.”
“Have a safe drive.”
Dean gets in and Cas bends to look at him through the passenger window.
Dean’s not smiling anymore. He’s sighing, and when he notices Cas, he leans over to roll the window down.
“I’ll be back.”
Cas knows Dean believes it. “You know where I live.”
Dean’s lips stretch in a grin that doesn’t show in his eyes.
The Impala starts rumbling and vibrating under Cas’ fingers still on the window frame. He holds up one hand in an aborted wave, Dean does the same. Cas lets go of the car and the wheels start rolling.
In a moment, he’s gone.
And Cas would stand there to watch the car disappear from his view, but Steve needs to open the store, turn on the cash register, make a few calls, start the coffee machine.
And on any other day, Steve would do that without thinking about Dean. Steve wouldn’t ache for him, wouldn’t long for him.
Cas isn’t sure he can do that anymore—shut himself away. As he wipes the counter and organizes the coins, he almost doesn’t remember how he did it before.
He knows then that there is no going back, because Cas and Steve have something in common now.
