Based on something @wanderingcas and I briefly chatted about in the only tumblr group chat I lasted longer than a day in
In Castiel’s defense, he’d been in the middle of telling Dean that he probably shouldn’t touch the glowing metal object that had fallen out of a crammed closet in a less-explored room in the bunker when he’d gone ahead and done it anyway.
“Ha, it’s one of those old ear-trumpet things.” Dean said, picking it up and holding it to his ear.
“- and glowing is rarely a good sign.” Castiel finished, but not before the trumpet flashed even brighter, and then stopped glowing altogether.
Dean pulled it away from his ear and frowned at it.
“Are you… alright?” Castiel asked, but there didn’t seem to be any outward signs of any harm done to him.
Dean said nothing, but his frown deepened as he glanced around, squinting enough that Castiel could tell something wasn’t quite right.
“Uh, I think -” Dean stopped abruptly and blinked. “Hello? Hello?”
Castiel stepped forward in concern, snatching the object out of Dean’s hands before it could do any more harm and he could almost feel the curse oozing off of it.
“I’m still here, Dean. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t -” Dean started tapping at his own ears, then patting them, “I can’t hear anything!”
Dean looked up at Castiel, a panicked tone in his voice and written on every line of his face and Castiel bit back the retort about how if he’d only waited just a few seconds -
“It’s alright,” Castiel said, slowly, methodically, so that Dean would be able to read his lips. “Don’t panic. The curse doesn’t feel strong.”
“Oh, fuck me - I really can’t hear!” Dean said again, and definitely panicking.
Castiel waved his hands in front of Dean’s face until he received his full and undivided attention, and mimed deep breaths until Dean followed suit, eyes still wide, but no longer frantic.
“You’re okay,” Castiel said, holding up his hand in the universal ‘OK’ symbol, “We can fix this. I don’t think it’s permanent.”
Dean swallowed and nodded, running a hand through his hair with a shaky sigh.
“Dammit, I shouldn’t have touched that stupid thing.”
“That’s what I said.” Castiel muttered.
Castiel waved a hand dismissively.
“Nothing. We’ll talk to Sam when he gets home and see if we can do any research on it. It was cursed, but it didn’t feel like it was a dangerous one.”
Dean stared at him and blinked once.
Castiel gave him a thumbs-up.
Sam tapped on the page of the book and flipped it around for Castiel to clearly see a picture of a sketched ear-trumpet.
“Yep - it’s in their inventory. Apparently it was designed as a last resort for battling against oceanic sirens, but it looks like they never needed it.” Sam shrugged his shoulders and glanced over at Dean, who was snapping his fingers in front of his ears and looking increasingly more frustrated with the results. “It’s just for seventy-two hours. He’ll be fine on Friday.”
“What?” Dean said from across the table.
Castiel pushed the book towards him and tapped on the sentence that included “seventy-two hours” in it.
“Goddammit.” Dean said, shoving the book back angrily in Castiel’s direction. “What the hell am I supposed to do until then, huh? Lock myself in my room and live like a hermit?”
“Plenty of people live without their hearing, Dean.” Castiel said, folding his arms against his chest. “And it’s just for three days. You’ll do just fine if you don’t make this into a bigger deal than it is.”
By Wednesday, Castiel had heard Dean list all of the things that he couldn’t do without his hearing at least fifteen times.
“And I can’t even listen to Led Zepplin! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve gone this long without listening to Zep? Since the womb, Cas. The womb.” Dean rambled as he leaned over the engine of the Impala.
Castiel flipped a page in the mystery novel he was skimming in the corner of the garage and nodded.
“A true tragedy.” Castiel said.
Castiel let out a long breath, stood up and walked over to Dean, and pointed at his lips.
Dean jumped as he turned to reach for an oily rag.
“Jesus - I can’t go through this again, Cas. You don’t even have your wings and it’s happening again you sneaky motherfu -”
“Can. You. Read. My. Lips.” Castiel said, slowly and methodically.
Dean’s eyes flicked down to Castiel’s lips, then immediately flicked away as Dean quickly turned around to face the car’s engine again.
“Nope. That’s not gonna work.”
Castiel frowned, but he supposed it would be a lot of work to have to stare so intently at his lips as he tried to decipher what shapes his mouth was forming.
“Have it your way, then.” Castiel said, knowing he might as well be saying it to the Impala, and went back to his mystery novel.
Castiel sat himself down at the table in the kitchen as Dean stirred at something in a large skillet, whistling to himself off-key as he did so.
He had on Claire’s birthday gift - an apron with “Culinary Badass” written in bold lettering on the front - and was swinging his hips from side-to-side as his whistling turned into humming.
Castiel smiled fondly as watched, falling into the pit of endearment that he often found himself at the bottom of. He wiped the smile from his face before letting it tug at the corners of his lips again - the smile was safe as long as Dean wasn’t looking.
There were a lot of things that could be safe right now.
“You’re adorable.” Castiel whispered, staring at the back of Dean’s head.
The humming continued with no reaction from Dean.
“You’re adorable.” Castiel repeated, louder this time - it felt good to say out loud. “Even when you’re being dramatic.”
Dean tapped on the oven with the spoon he’d been using to stir to add rhythm to his humming, not saying a word in response.
Castiel’s smile grew a little wider.
“Every day I hope I get to see you smile.” Castiel said after Dean handed him a beer and turned away.
“Your soul shines brighter than you can imagine.” Castiel said, his face hidden behind a load of laundry he was handing Dean.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you in my life.” Castiel said as he climbed into the passenger’s side of the Impala to go on a grocery run with Dean.
“I love you.” Castiel said as the two of them watched a subtitled television show that Castiel had long since stopped paying attention to in Dean’s TV room. “I really do.”
Dean’s head slowly turned away from the television, and towards Castiel.
Castiel just waved a hand.
Nothing. He mouthed, and shrugged his shoulders, hoping Dean would just let it go. He usually did now that explaining became a big situation.
A chill shot down Castiel’s spine as he tensed, and mentally counted the hours in his head - yes it was about seventy-two hours now. Had he not been paying close enough attention?
He’d been happily confessing things to Dean while there would be no consequences like a fool.
Castiel shouldn’t have let himself get comfortable in that.
“…just came back, yeah.” Dean said slowly, hesitantly, like he was regretting the admission.
He was probably wishing he was still under the effects of the curse and Castiel didn’t blame him one iota.
“I’m - Dean I’m so sorry. I thought you were still - I didn’t - “
Castiel’s stuttering died in his throat as he stared back at Dean, eyes wide.
“I- I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.” He whispered.
There was a long silence between them as they simply stared at each other, and the sound of the television still played in the background.
“This is The Good Place finale,” Dean said, pointing at the TV, “So, we have to finish watching it - but after that we’re gonna make-out, okay? Like a lot. And then probably talk about shit.”
Dean smiled in the special way that made Castiel’s heart stop.
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