“Wait, you’re letting me into heaven?!? But I’m a villain!” The angel frowned, checking a notepad. “It seems every time you committed a crime it ended up doing more good than bad.”
some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.
i think deans plays gay closet chicken with sam which means that he does/says increasingly gay things while trying to figure out where the line is that finally makes sam go "wait a minute"
he does not care if sam knows. this is just entertainment for him. how many times can he disappear to the men's room for an hour before sam starts questioning his digestive system? how many times can he call himself the meat man before sam gets that dean knows exactly what it means? what happens if he holds castiel's hand? gives him a little cheek smooch?
It's an early Tuesday morning in the bunker when Sam finally figures it out. Dean is in the kitchen leaning against the counter by the coffee pot when Sam gets back from his run.
Absently, Dean holds out an empty mug for him. He's squinting at something on his phone. Maybe he's finally figured out Twitter. Maybe there's a case.
"I'm good," Sam says, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the band on his wrist. He takes a sip from the Boba Tea he picked up on his jog back from town.
Dean looks up at the sound of Sam's slurping and grimaces.
"Ugh," he says, eloquent as always.
"It's good," Sam argues.
Dean's attention is already back on his phone. His thumb and index finger move in concert across the screen to zoom-in on something. He says, "The only way beads should be coming out of my ass is if I shoved them up there in the first place."
"What?" Sam says.
"What?" Dean asks.
"That's not–" Sam starts, then stops. Sometimes his brother is so ignorant that it's not even worth getting into. He shakes his head. A conversation about alternative lifestyles isn't what he came in here for anyway. There's a box of protein bars in the back of the cupboard with his name on it. Metaphorically, not literally. Nobody else touches them.
Sam's got the box in hand when Dean says, "Morning, sunshine."
Sam doesn't need to look up to see who Dean's talking to—it's always Cas—but habit kicks in and he glances up just in time to see Cas pad into the kitchen. He's wearing sweats, a too-big t-shirt, and a grumpy frown that could rival a toddler's at nap time. These days it's a fifty-fifty toss up on whether or not Cas needs to sleep. Looks like last night was a sleep night. Tonight might be one too.
"Hey, Cas," Sam says.
Cas makes a vague grunting sound in response and heads directly for Dean's cup of coffee. Not surprising. After years of Dean eating the angel's food, the not-quite-an-angel-anymore-but-not-exactly-human-either has taken to eating Dean's.
Dean holds his blue ceramic mug out to Cas. It's misshapen with uneven coloring and nobody's sure if it's actually safe to drink from, but Jack made it at the community center in Sioux Falls when he was visiting the girls a few months back; anytime Dean uses another mug, Jack gets an exaggeratedly dejected look on his face. Sam is pretty sure he's doing it just to fuck with Dean and it's definitely working.
"You up for a drive?" Dean asks. It's directed at Cas, but Sam figures he should pay attention too. It might be about a case.
Cas makes a vague noise that could mean anything from "I'll slaughter your entire family" to "Should I pack my mittens?"
"Great," Dean says. It's sarcastic but there's an undercurrent of affection, even if Dean would never admit it. He's so weird about his feelings, especially when it comes to his male friends. He's got this whole toxic masculinity thing going and it's honestly exhausting. If he could just pull his head out of his own ass, he'd see that–
He's… snuggling Cas. That's really the only word for it. Dean's got one arm wrapped around Cas' shoulders and his nose buried in Cas' hair and yep that's the sound of him placing a kiss on Cas' head.
And now he's murmuring something into the side of Cas' head, too low for Sam to make out.
And Cas isn't freaking out. He's… he's leaning into it.
What the fuck.
"Uh, what the hell's happening?" Sam asks.
Dean and Cas both look over at him in unison. Like they choreographed the movement. They both have a furrow between their brows, too, like their facial expressions are part of the dance.
Sam gestures helplessly at where the two of them are still more or less pressed together. Cas' face stays scrunched up but Dean's breaks into a giddy smile.
"Finally," he says.
"Finally, what?" Sam asks. "Are you two… together?"
"Sam," Cas says. He packs a lot of exasperation into that one syllable. Sam thinks it's unwarranted, even if Cas is trying to stave off Dean's impending sexuality crisis by avoiding the topic of conversation.
Well, too bad. They need to talk about it.
Sam asks, "Does Jack know?"
"Know what?" Jack asks, rounding the corner into the kitchen. He goes straight for the cupboard where the bowls are.
Sam looks at Dean, eyebrows raised. Dean still looks way too amused. Something isn't right.
Cas says, "About me and Dean."
Unconcerned, Jack asks, "What about you and Dean?"
"Yeah, what about us?" Dean says. It's directed at Sam. It feels like a trap.
Sam gestures vaguely to where Dean still stands with his arm around Cas. It's moved down to his waist.
"That you're… you know."
"What? What are we doing, Sammy?"
"Oh," Jack says, like he's figured something out and in the process lost all interest in the proceedings. More than anything he looks disappointed to find that the Fruity Pebbles are mostly just rainbow-colored dust. His bowl isn't even halfway full and the box is empty.
"Is Sam's gay crisis about Dean something we can do on the way to the store or do we have to stay in the kitchen until it's over?"
His face is so earnest that Sam is dumbstruck by the question.
Then, Dean starts laughing so hard that he loses his balance and slides down the cabinets til his ass hits the floor. Cas looks down at him fondly.
Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te.....
OMG ITS THE GAY EPISODE. free to be you and me and dean is fixing cas’ shirt and eyefucking and damn near pleading for help they had to know what they were doing
Imagine an AU where Dean is forced to write to an assigned penpal. And at first he's reactant until he finds out his penpal is a girl named Cassie Robinson and, thinking it would be a little interesting, puts a little effort into his first letter.
Only, he mails it out to the wrong state
And it lands in the hands of Castiel. A homeschooled young boy who's being watched over by his older brother Raphael
Thinking it was just a letter from one of his cousins, he opens it and gets intrigued by the stranger named Dean
Not one to be rude, he sends a letter back on reply:
Dear Dean,
I prefer to be called Cas...
And back and forth letters happen in the span on weeks
Weeks turn into months
And when Dean's penpal project concludes, they keep sending letters all throughout summer break
All through graduation
Till Dean gets his first job
Till Cas goes to college
Till they run into each other in passing. Strangers who had sparks flying when they make eyecontact from across the street. But never interacting
Tags: Time Travel, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Canon Divergent, post Purgatory, eventual happy ending
Warning: Temporary main character death
Summary:
New York, the city of stories. Half of them are true, the other half, just haven't happened yet.
---
People are disappearing, statues are moving. Dean and Castiel -- fresh out of Purgatory -- walk into the heart of the mystery, thinking it's their usual run-of-the-mill case.
Until they meet a man with a funny bow tie and two hearts, who looks up from his screwdriver, and says, "Hello, I'm the Doctor, I'm a Time Lord. This is Amy, she's Scottish. Any questions? No? Good. Now, where is Rory?"
snowghoul
blakekathryn
romaincrisis
andulkaphoto
titsay
gummygunk
stormborns
