“This isn’t going to work, Sam,” Castiel says, frowning at his boyfriend across his small apartment kitchen. It’s with a heavy heart he says those words, and the atmosphere of the cramped room only grows heavier.
Sam crosses his arms and leans a hip on the counter, a stern expression on his face. “Are you actually saying you're putting Bill above our relationship?”
“Well, I’ve been with him longer...” Castiel mutters but retracts the statement at the sight of Sam’s cocked eyebrow. “That isn’t to say I don’t love you, but I am very attached to Bill. He needs me.”
Hanging his head, Sam lets out an exasperated sigh. “I know, and I’m attached to Denise too, but I think if we just gave it some time--”
Just then, out of the corner of both of their eyes, they see a small white streak dart down the hall, followed by a much larger brown blur close behind. There’s a menacing bark, a snap of toothy jaws, and a shrill feline shriek.
“This is why we can’t live together!” Cas shouts out, sprinting out of the kitchen after their pets. “Denise is going to eat Bill!”
Distance Means Nothing verse;; sastiel;; g;; set a few years after main story;; hover over the Russian;; 346 words
“I’m not sure I can do this, Cas.”
“You’ll be fine,” Cas sighs—it’s probably the fourth or fifth time Sam’s said that in the past ten minutes.
“Still...” Sam whines, foot tapping incessantly on the laminate floor of his apartment. His fingers strum in time with the taps, making indistinguishable music of an anxious man. “What if I fuck up?”
“You won’t,” Cas replies resolutely at first, but then he tilts his head as he reconsiders his answer. “Well, if you do, she’ll understand.”
It’s not a good enough answer for Sam. Huffing out an exasperated breath, Sam pushes himself away from his desk, the worn and squeaky wheels of his chair only taking him about halfway across his room before coming to a halt. He lets out a frustrated grunt, roughly threading his fingers through his hair before freezing as he remembers that he did his hair in the mirror just twenty minutes ago.
“Ah,” Cas says, head turning away from the camera. “She’s here.”
“Hold on!” he shouts, sprinting toward his tiny bathroom to fix his hair for the twentieth time. He sprints back, sliding into his rolling chair and bumping into the desk again. “Okay, I’m ready,” he declares, looking back at his screen.
He blinks. Castiel is sitting there, arm hooked with the woman’s.
“Oh,” Sam says softly. Shit shit shit, they haven’t even said one word and he’s screwed up already! “Uh...”
Sensing his partner’s sudden but inevitably expected stage fright, Castiel takes the lead. “Sam, this is my mother.” He turns to her. “Мама, этолюбовь всей моей жизни.”
When she smiles at him—with familiar bright blue eyes with aging crinkles around the edges, with the same warmth and gentleness emanating from her even through a screen—Sam feels a wave of comforting familiarity wash over him. Like he’s known her for years.
“Hello. Здравствуйте. Приятно познакомиться.” Sam swallows, licking his dry lips. It’s now or never. “Меня зовут Сэм, и ... и ... я хочу жениться на вашего сына.”
Cas’ mouth drops open in pure shock as his mother happily flings her arms into the air, shouting something unknown to Sam’s still developing Russian while his partner just gapes at him.
Another commission I did for apentomyheadandimdead for her lovely fic Shorten the Distance!
Summary: “Nerdytr3nchcoat” and “Impala67” weren’t looking for romance on the dating website called ‘dateangels.com’. Castiel was looking for friends and Dean was just looking to get his nagging brother off his back. What they didn’t expect to find was each other.
Tags/Warnings: Social Anxiety, Self-Doubt, meddling!sam, meddling!gabriel,
I will defend aces/aros who enjoy reading or writing romantic or sexual stuff in fiction to my dying day but…
I also wanna talk about the overwhelming feeling that no one will read a fic we write if we don’t include some ship or another, how much we’re told “if it’s not rated M it’s not worth reading"–followed up by “the fic was rated M and it didn’t even have smut scenes!” of course.
How many times I’ve seen fellow ace writers talk about how they are trying to teach themselves to write smut they’re repulsed by because people keep demanding it in their works, how many times I’ve seen fellow aro writers buckle under the pressure to make the central relationships in their works romantic.
How when we write about characters with nonromantic sexual relationships we get swarmed with “I can’t wait for them to open their heart~”, how when we write about characters with romantic nonsexual relationships we get “I hope they give in soon~”.
How difficult it is for sex- and romance-repulsed people to find works without it, how frequently we’re guilted or pressured when we try to write it for ourselves.
I am 100% behind the “it’s okay to be ace/aro and enjoy stuff with romance/sex” posts forever but we really need to talk about the pervasive pressure that we have to include it no matter what, whether we want to or not.
We need to talk about the overwhelming culture in fandom that a story is worthless without it.
I saw your post about I Was Afraid, and I agree that's exactly how Dean would react. I've gotten reactions like that a lot about by asexuality, and I think it just made me love th story more, because I could relate. and Dean does apologise, even though he doesn't get it. Idk I think in eying offended on your behalf so sorry about that but I honestly believe Dean was in character and totally realistic.
This is ridiculously comforting to read, thank you, especially since it’s coming from another asexual with similar experiences. I’ve gotten a fair share of flack over Dean’s characterization in this fic, but I simply can’t imagine the canon characterization of Dean (vs fanon) being immediately 100% understanding of the idea of relationships without sex. For most of the world, sex is seen as ridiculously important and necessary to the survival of relationships (which is not true for all of us). I constantly get people who are like “what no sex? what the fuck??? how can you not have sex?? that’s not a relationship, that’s friendship.” Like no. And I think it is really important to note that Dean does apologize, and in the sequel they all get together and have a great time. Though he’s barely in the fic, he has his own minor positive character growth.
Dean didn’t grow up in the same type of environment we have–wasn’t constantly on the internet learning new things or went to college (where it’s pretty easy to meet lgbt+ people and understand more identities). Even in the lgbt+ community, there isn’t a lot of understanding in regards to asexuality, so I definitely would never expect Dean to know any of it. Especially since he likes sex a lot in the show and values it.
In the end, the most important thing is that Dean apologized and acknowledged that even though he didn’t really understand asexuality or the nature of their relationship, he accepted it and accepted them.
i was reading a really good sastiel college au fic with ace!cas and it got ruined when i realized the writer wrote dean as a complete dick about cas’ asexuality
Yeah that’s kind of the only thing I don’t like about I Was Afraid. The thing is though that it’s so completely in character. I mean I love Dean to death but that’s probably how he’d react. Unfortunately.
I agree with you completely. I hated writing Dean like that but that’s my 1000000% headcanon about how he’d initially react to this news. It’s just Dean’s character--he, just like so many allosexuals, couldn’t imagine a world or a relationship without sex. It’s how a lot of people react to the idea of asexual relationships, unfortunately, and I don’t feel Dean would ever be immune to this. Dean’s not a total dick, he just doesn’t understand at first. It’s very realistic in my experience.
Sam bursts through the front door of the house, making Castiel nearly jump out of his skin. For a few seconds, they look at each other wordlessly. Eyes locked, expressions unreadable, Sam still panting for breath because he nearly ran all the way home.
“Did you hear?” Sam finally says, still gasping out the air in his chest. “Did you see the news?”
Something bright and warm surges in Castiel’s heart, socked feet brushing across the kitchen tile as he finds himself stumbling towards Sam with open arms. He falls into Sam’s, into an embrace that is different than all the others they’ve shared previously.
“Yes…!”
They stay like that for a long moment, arms wrapped around each other. Nothing else matters in that moment, not the open door that is letting the cool air out and bugs in, nor the pasta that is still boiling on the stove. No. The world just melts away from them until it’s just the two of them, just Castiel’s face buried into the crook of Sam’s neck and Sam’s lips pressed to his hair.
“We can get married, we can get married, we can get married…” Sam repeats the words like he couldn’t believe it himself, lips still pressed to his love’s dark locks. “It’s real and it finally happened.”
A beat passes. “Let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
: : : : : : : : : : :
Years later, Castiel and Sam will tell their children the story about how they got married.
Sam couldn’t find the ring he bought for Castiel fast enough so they substituted one that he already owned, and they scrambled so quickly to get to City Hall that Castiel was still wearing the sweatpants he cleaned the house in.
They’ll laugh about it, but remember it fondly as the best day of their lives.
Dean would be mad that they didn’t wait for him to get there seriously guys you couldn’t wait like half an hour so I could see my little brother get married to the love of his life see if I get you a waffle iron this time (he totally gets them a waffle iron, and he has to turn away so they won’t see his delighted grin)
The phone clatters on the table as it vibrates. Sam checks the caller ID and immediately he’s filled with regret.
“It’s Dean,” he tells Castiel from across the kitchen.
“You should answer it.”
Sam sighs. His husband is right: they were in such a rush that afternoon that they forgot to tell anyone, even Sam’s own brother who lived just across town. He already knows exactly what Dean’s going to say, but he still accepts the call.
He doesn’t even get a ‘hello’ out before Dean’s voice booms out of the iPhone speaker.
“YOU COULDN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER FOUR O’CLOCK TO GET MARRIED? Bitch, I wanted to be there as a witness! I can’t believe I found out from Facebook that my own brother got married.”
“I’m sorry! It happened so quickly, we were kind of excited and didn’t really think anything through.”
“Yeah, well,” Dean scoffs in a tone that tells Sam that he’ll get over it. "You better make me your best man at your wedding.”
“I will. You’ll be right there next to me, I promise.”
Sam bursts through the front door of the house, making Castiel nearly jump out of his skin. For a few seconds, they look at each other wordlessly. Eyes locked, expressions unreadable, Sam still panting for breath because he nearly ran all the way home.
“Did you hear?” Sam finally says, still gasping out the air in his chest. “Did you see the news?”
Something bright and warm surges in Castiel’s heart, socked feet brushing across the kitchen tile as he finds himself stumbling towards Sam with open arms. He falls into Sam’s, into an embrace that is different than all the others they’ve shared previously.
“Yes...!”
They stay like that for a long moment, arms wrapped around each other. Nothing else matters in that moment, not the open door that is letting the cool air out and bugs in, nor the pasta that is still boiling on the stove. No. The world just melts away from them until it’s just the two of them, just Castiel’s face buried into the crook of Sam’s neck and Sam’s lips pressed to his hair.
“We can get married, we can get married, we can get married...” Sam repeats the words like he couldn’t believe it himself, lips still pressed to his love’s dark locks. “It’s real and it finally happened.”
A beat passes. “Let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
: : : : : : : : : : :
Years later, Castiel and Sam will tell their children the story about how they got married.
Sam couldn’t find the ring he bought for Castiel fast enough so they substituted one that he already owned, and they scrambled so quickly to get to City Hall that Castiel was still wearing the sweatpants he cleaned the house in.
They’ll laugh about it, but remember it fondly as the best day of their lives.
The kind that is very predictable. Always retrieves the newspaper at six-fifteen and out the door by seven. Always home by five and gets the mail at six. Always wearing slight variations of the same outfit--black pants, white shirt, dark-colored tie and a tan coat in the winter.
A very particular, robotic neighbor.
Sam’s only met him a handful of times. He’s nice, if a little strange. He never put much thought into the life of his neighbor Castiel until one day, when he notices that the paper was still on the end of the driveway. He thinks nothing of it until it happens again.
And again.
Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen the man at all these past few days.
No wonder Sam’s been feeling a little off--the man’s schedule adds a little structure to his own life. Something stable and reliable.
He decides while reviewing his case notes for the next day after dinner that he’ll do the neighborly kindness and bring Castiel his mail.
There’s about a big stack of letters and catalogues curled in the mailbox, struggling to fit in, and three newspapers on the corner of the driveway. Sam gathers them all into his arms and knocks on Castiel’s door.
No answer.
He rings the doorbell.
Still nothing.
He sighs, bending at the knee to pile the mail under the shelter of porch when the door lock turns, metal scraping metal. The lock releases, the door swings open a foot.
Sam snaps up, mail still clutched against his chest. “Uh--!”
His neighbor peers through the narrow opening, and he’s nothing like Sam’s ever seen before. Crisp button-up shirt replaced by a heather gray shirt that hangs off his frame, sweatpants and bare feet that peek out the bottoms. Though nothing strikes Sam the most than Castiel’s face. Dark messy hair that sticks up in all directions, stubble that probably doesn’t qualify as 5 o’clock shadow anymore, and skin that’s simultaneously pale and red at the tip of his nose and ears. Blue eyes that glare at him. Still ridiculously handsome.
He sniffles.
“Here’s your mail,” Sam says, gesturing with his arms full. The man looks so tired, the lines on his face are so apparent. “Are you okay?”
“I’m ill,” Castiel replies, voice even more like gravel due to being sick.
“Cold?”
“Influenza.”
“Oh, that’s rough.”
“I know,” his neighbor nods, a little sarcastic. “Thank you for getting the mail.”
Castiel holds his arms out to receive it and Sam sees that his hands are shaking slightly. Well, all of him is shivering. He looks very weak.
“No, I can carry it in for you.”
The man nods, stepping to the side to allow Sam in.
Castiel’s house is almost exactly how Sam assumed it would be. Well furnished but not too crowded like his own home. Meticulously organized, not a thing out of place. The whole place is perfect except the living room, which looks like it’s where Castiel has been living over the past three days. Blankets strewn across the couch, empty tissue boxes, and empty water glasses cluttering up the coffee table.
“On the table is fine. I’ll get to it eventually,” Castiel tells him, moving forward before plopping gracelessly on the couch. The motion brings him to a coughing fit, so hard it wracks his body. A small groan escapes when it finally subsides.
“Sounds pretty bad.”
“I normally do not get the flu, but the strain going around school is a vicious one.”
“Do you need anything?” Sam asks, feeling bad for the man. If there are this many glasses lying about, there should be plates. But there aren’t, meaning the man isn’t eating.
“No thank you,” he answers before blowing his nose. “You’ve done enough.”
But Sam doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough. So he returns an hour later with some warmed up soup from a box in the back of his pantry. And some bananas, crackers and half of his orange juice poured into a different container. He figures that even if he has food to eat, he probably doesn’t have enough energy to make it.
Castiel eyes him from the crack of the door, says nothing and lets him in.
Just like he guessed, there’s not a lot in Castiel’s fridge. Some milk, bagged salad, slices of cheese and deli meats, and some fancy imported beer towards the back, among other things.
Sam doesn’t mention anything. After searching the kitchen for utensils and such, he brings the man some food, sitting on the far armchair after safely handing it off to Castiel.
The clock over the fireplace chimes on the quarter-hour, the television’s volume is low. Sam watches the closed captioning of a news broadcast and listens to the gentle scraping of a spoon on porcelain.
“Am I keeping you from something?” Castiel asks, peering over at him.
“What?”
“You don’t have to stay. Though it’s nice to have company, I don’t want to get you sick or keep you if you’re busy.”
Sam thinks about the work he should be doing. He’s got another case in a few days, defending some guy accused of fraud, and he’s got a pile of notes to look over by then. But his neighbor mentioned that his presence is ‘nice’ so there’s really no argument. “It’s okay.”
Castiel finishes the soup and nibbles at some crackers, the programming on the television has rolled over to a documentary about sustainable energy. When Sam looks over half an hour later, his neighbor is snoring softly, arm bent awkwardly underneath himself.
Sam silently lets himself out of the house, but not before clearing the dishes to the kitchen sink and pulling a blanket over him.
All throughout work the next day, Sam wonders how Castiel is doing. If he’s eaten. If he’s drank enough water. If he needs more toast and orange juice. When he gets home, he tosses his briefcase into the front hall and traverses their lawns. He knocks, but then tries the handle. The front door is unlocked, which was unsafe but Sam couldn’t lock it behind himself the evening before.
Castiel is still on the couch, but it’s clear that he’s moved enough to take a shower and change clothes. A blue eye cracks open at the sound of Sam’s footsteps.
“Hello,” his neighbor tries, but he loses his voice halfway through and it just comes out like “hell.”
Sam forgoes asking how he’s feeling since it’s a little obvious by Castiel just laying like a dead man on the couch surrounded by tissues. “Do you need anything?”
For a moment, he’s afraid that Castiel will say no out of politeness, but he’s pleasantly surprised. “Juice would be nice, if you’re offering.”
There’s no more plates in the sink than when Sam left the night before, causing Sam to frown. Castiel is sitting up when he returns with two glasses of orange juice, one for each of them, and toast and a sliced up green apple on a plate, which Castiel eats gratefully.
“I bet the kids really miss you in class,” Sam says after a time. It’s been almost a full week since Castiel has gone to work, into the local high school to teach English Literature.
“Probably not.” He coughs. “They’re probably having fun terrorizing the substitute.”
Sam huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, definitely.”
"Did you--” he sneezes, quickly snatching a tissue out of the nearest box. “Excuse me. Did you do that? Terrorize your teachers?”
“No, but man, my brother did. All the time.” Sam pauses to think. “Well, there was this one teacher, but she had it coming.”
“You’re terrible,” Castiel says, still lighthearted.
“Hear me out. She was pretty nasty and just made life incredibly hard for the whole class, even the kids who paid attention. She practically blamed everyone for the actions of a few...”
“I know a few teachers like that as well. Tell me more.”
“Well...”
It’s late into the night, much later than he ever thought he’d stay, when Sam leaves Castiel’s house. Somehow the topic had gone from terrible teachers to terrible work stories to exchanging life experiences, with a few side trips to “favorite place you’ve been” and “why the hell did you choose this town to live in?” Castiel fell asleep mid-conversation, drugged from another dose of Tamiflu and Advil PM. It’s dark and Sam steps carefully through the grass and hoping he doesn’t crush his neighbor’s petunias on the way home.
He really enjoyed their conversation, having someone to sit and talk with so comfortably, and someone take care of. Castiel may be strange, may be quiet, but he’s really a pleasure to talk to and very personable, even when he’s sick and drowsy from drugs.
On Sunday morning, at seven sharp, there’s a knock on Sam’s door. He stumbles through the house, having stayed up late looking through past cases for his court defense. When the heavy door swings open, he has to blink.
Castiel stands on his doorstep, clad not in sweats but dark jeans and a better-fitting shirt. A plastic bag dangles from his grip. He clears his throat. “I brought your tupperware back. It’s clean.”
“Oh? Oh, thanks,” Sam returns, taking it from him. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Thanks to you.”
“What?”
“Thanks... for bringing me things, and staying with me. I don’t normally fall ill, but when I do, it hits very hard.”
“No problem,” Sam says, shyly edging around the fact that he kind of creepily took it upon himself to take care of his neighbor that he’s rarely talked to outside of neighborhood picnics and homeowner association meetings.
Castiel must feel the awkwardness too. He straightens his back and turns away. “I’ll see you around.”
His neighbor is halfway down his front path when Sam finds his words. “Hey--” The man freezes mid-step, turning on his heels to hear him out. “If you want, I mean, if you still want company, just, uhm, let me know.”
“Well, considering I’ve developed an appetite and a strange craving for pizza, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Sure,” Sam smiles and watches his neighbor cut through the grassy lawns back to his house.
So I heard that your a fan of samcasjimmy and I was thinking about Sam and the Novak twins being in high school, because I'm really into highschool!aus, and Sam being the new kid and meeting Jimmy as the "welcome to our school I'll show you around" guide and having a massive crush. Then, during lunch, Sam's meeting with a teacher when Cas walks in and Sam's pretty much done so he leaves but on the way out, he says bye Jimmy and is gone before Cas can correct him. And when Cas and Jimmy are (pt1)
(pt2) walking home, they talk about the cute new boy that they want and plot to get him in their clutches. Then the next day they pass him at different intervals testing him, confusing him until, after a few weeks, they mess up and he sees them together, rubbing off behind the bleachers like the horny shites they are and instead of being disgusted like they expected, Sam joins right in with them with dark eyes and a devilish smirk because he figured it out in the first week.
four hundred years later
I love love love love love the idea of plotting twins. My favorite trope for incest threesome ships lol. And oh my god, them confusing Sam about how he (they) could be everywhere at once. BUT IT WAS A PLOY THE WHOLE TIME, Sam finds out by looking through class pictures in the front office when he’s there getting a note. Mmm yes
Slowly but surely, Sam and Castiel unpack their things and make their new home... well, home. While the honeymoon phase dwindles, Castiel begins his new job at the Channel 7 news station but he has a lot to learn before he can be efficient at his job. While Cas fumbles with social media, Sam studies for the LSAT exam, which is coming up all too quickly. It’s a new step in their lives and it takes two to keep them in balance, with their work and with each other.
The summer grows progressively more busy as Sam and Castiel, having now made a commitment and decided to take a big step in their relationship, begin looking for an reasonably affordable apartment to call their own. Determined to begin providing for himself and not rely on his family, Castiel searches for a job that will utilize his Media & Film Studies degree. Their struggles feel fruitless... but good things do happen.
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