An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Here’s a fic for @celestebee717 based on your prompt, “Field of dandelions”!
This wound up being a bit of a fix-it fix for 15x20.
(If you want your own fic, just dm me or comment two or three words and I will make a fic based on them!)
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Dean is drunk. Like, really, really fucking drunk. They just got Cas back. Jack changed his mind and decided to stay, bringing- a very human- Cas with him.
And Dean doesn’t know what to say.
So, he hides out in the dungeon and drinks his way into oblivion. The thing is, he’s happy. He’s ecstatic. He’s got Cas back. Yeah, they saved the world, but he also has Cas. So, when Castiel finds him in the wee hours of the morning slumped against the wall in a daze, Dean just rolls with it.
“Cas!” Dean says, toasting to him with his…well, he’d lost count of the beers at this point, but this was the only one not quite empty. “Welc’m to tha party!”
Castiel pauses. “A party of one?”
“Naaaaaah,” Dean says, shaking his head. “You’re here!”
Castiel looks down, then back to Dean. “Are you…happy I’m here, Dean?”
“Of course, Cas! I missed you- s- so much…” Dean trails off, looking confused and sad for a few moments.
“Dean,” Castiel says, moving across the room and crouching in front of him. “Is something wrong? You’ve been…here since we got back to the bunker.”
Dean looks up and his eyes take a moment to focus on Castiel, and he blinks out a few tears. “You left…me. You…left.”
“No, no, no, noooo. Let- let me finish.” Dean moves to sit up, setting his bottle down with a soft clank. “You left ‘for I could say anything.”
Castiel freezes, torn between wanting to know what Dean would have said, and feeling a gnawing guilt for taking advantage of him in his obviously impaired state. Before he can figure out how to react, Dean reaches a clumsy hand forward and places it on Castiel’s cheek.
“I need you Cas. You’re…you’re everything.”
“Dean…” Castiel says, voice trembling.
“Cas…you can have it.” Dean’s voice is sturdy; even plastered, he’s more sure of this than anything else in the world. “I love you.”
“Dean.” Castiel is crying now, happier than he’d ever been, happier than even that one moment of true happiness, because he finally has what he thought he never could.
Dean pulls Castiel to him, dragging him into his arms and holding him tight in a hug, running a hand through Castiel’s hair. He mumbles something into Castiel’s shoulder.
“What?” Castiel asks, pulling back.
“‘S like a…field of dandelions.”
Castiel tilts his head. “What-”
“Your hair. ‘S soft. I like it.”
Cas just smiles and laughs, falling back into Dean’s arms.
In the morning, after the haze is lessened, Dean wakes up from where Castiel had tucked him into his bed. He must have finally blacked out. Then it hits him, what he’d said.
Dean scrambles out of bed and rushes down the hall, bursting into Castiel’s room.
“Cas?” Dean says, shaking Cas awake.
But he’s cut off by a kiss, hard and fast, filled with years of longing.
Dean pulls back and gives Castiel a lopsided grin. “That’s what. Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
Castiel is blushing, but smiling like a fool. “Now you can whenever you want.”
“Damn right, I can,” Dean says, kissing Castiel again and again and again…