Cas and Dean and those quiet moments of intimacy where Dean just runs his fingers through Cas' hair. Castiel falls asleep with his head in Dean's laps, feeling so warm and cozy, listening to Dean hum "Hey Jude" above him.
They spend most of their time together.
It’s like the newness of their relationship never went, even two years into Dean and Cas being Dean and Cas.
At school, Dean spends all his time between class at Castiel’s locker, chatting him up about what he did that weekend or where they would spend lunch that day. Cas is always so happy to see him there waiting, face lighting up the moment he spots after rounding the corner. They walk to class together and if it was one they’d shared, Dean would find the seat closest to the brunet and drag it even closer.
Outside of school it was even worse, especially if you were to ask Sam or any of Castiel’s siblings. The moment class lets out, Cas is waiting outside in the parking lot by the Impala for Dean, who always greets him with a kiss. It grosses Sam out to no end and that’s probably why Dean tends to escalate and exaggerate any of the couple-y stuff he and Cas do around Sam. It’s just a bonus that whenever he does, Cas smiles in the cute, gummy way of his the always makes the blond’s heart skip.
It’s not just rides home or moments in the the hall, though.
It’s video games and pizza Friday nights, it’s larping in the summer, weekend trips to museums and star gazing whenever Castiel notices the sky is clear enough for it. That’s Cas’s favourite thing they do Dean thinks, sharing something he holds so dear to him with Dean. He looks at the stars the same way Dean looks at him and Dean can always tell he’s witnessing something no one else gets to see.
But Dean’s favourite thing isn’t any of that, no matter how much he loves those moments.
Dean’s favourite moments are here in his room, Castiel’s head resting in his lap while Dean hums “Hey Jude” and runs his hands through unruly, dark locks. Cas is dozing, like he always tends to do when they’re quiet like this, his hand wrapped around Dean’s knee and his breathing getting deeper as the minutes pass. Dean’s just staring down at him with a dumb, lovestruck look on his face, his hand moving to the curls at the back of Cas’s head. Cas picks that then to turn and look up at his boyfriend, and Dean can’t help but feel caught.
“What?”
Cas signs it instead of just speaking, too relaxed and content to use words, which Dean is thankful for. He wouldn't be able to read the boy’s lips with how groggy he seems to be accurately enough anyway.
“Nothing...you’re just cute is all...”
Dean chuckles at the grumpy scoff and eye roll Cas sends his way before the brunet takes his hand and returns to his rest place, happy to press his lips to Dean’s knuckles before sighing and going back to dozing.
“I don’t know, it’s just-- weird, I guess. To think that other people go out on one date and a next and another, and then they do it. Like, have sex with this person they have met and talked to three times and then they think nothing of letting them touch and fuck them.” Unconsciously, Dean pulls his robe tighter around himself. “Never quite got that.”
“You know that I told you that we don’t have to do any of that, Dean. I mean it when I say I would be perfectly happy to keep things platonic. Being allowed to kiss and hold you is already more than enough and neither a consolation prize nor a mandatory lead-up to anything.”
“No, I know,” Dean says, pressing his breath out between his teeth. “And I believe you. It’s just, uhm--”
“Yes?” Castiel coaxes.
“It’s that I’m starting to get it.” He blushes where he sits, at the edge of the bed, with his hair still damp from the shower and his hands in his lap, wringing. “Y’know. Wanting to touch.” His tongue darts out, shyly wetting his lips. “Wanting to be touched.”
“Dean,” Castiel acknowledges, breathless and amazed. “I-- if you think so, that’s wonderful. But we don’t need to rush anything and if you still change your mind, you must know it would be--”
“--okay, yeah. Like I said, I know. ‘s one of the reasons why I’m okay with this, I think. I trust you, Cas. More than anyone else. And with everything I got.” He shuffles around, turning towards Castiel, whose back is still against the headboard and whose book slowly leaving his lap in favor of the nightstand.
Despite Dean’s turning around, his gaze is still dropped and his cheeks are still aflame. The latter even more so when Dean reaches for the collar of his robe and pulls it aside just so, to reveal nothing but his collar bone, his shoulder and the peak of one pink nipple.
Castiel’s breath catches.
“It’s why I-- want you. I’ve been having fantasies and shit and,” he clenches his eyes and lips shut for a moment and presses out another heavy breath, “this is so embarrassing and I don’t even know, man. It sounds clichéd and very Dirty Dancing, but I’ve never felt this way before. And it’s a bit shitty if I’m honest. A bit scary, even.” He looks up at Castiel, a shy smile playing around his lips. “But I’m not scared.”
Castiel curls his hands into fists, his gaze firmly set on Dean’s face instead of the alluring tease of skin that he has looked at before, has seen so often already, but never in this context. Not with a sexual notion that he doesn’t have to be ashamed of, not with the anticipation of a craved-for satisfaction itching under his skin.
Dean is already so beautiful and sweet, in everything he does and every way that he is. But now even more so, with his green eyes finally catching Castiel’s gaze, so full of trust and a tentative offer that Castiel wants nothing more than to cradle him to his chest and soothe him and kiss him everywhere.
“I will do nothing you don’t want to, Dean. We will move at no one’s pace but yours and I will stop immediately if you tell me to,” Castiel vows, his own cheeks heated and pink now. He might feel restless and overwhelmed, yet what he says is nothing but truthful.
“Okay,” Dean says, nodding tightly and yet still smiling.
They share a breather.
And then Dean reaches forward, uncertain but determined edge to his face, and he takes one of Castiel’s unsteady hands and lays it against the warm skin of his chest, just shy of his nipple.
“Okay?” Dean asks, and his own hand is just as trembling on top of Castiel’s. It must be as scary for him as he says it is, and yet, he still keeps Castiel’s hand on his skin, still trusts Castiel with this new and vulnerable part of himself.
“Okay,” Castiel confirms, trailing his hand down Dean’s chest, in the slowest and most exhilarated of strokes, and all of Dean’s face lightens up beatifically at its first touch against his nipples, at his first own quiet moan.
feelin kinda bummed today so have some fluff featuring yoga and demi!Dean
flowershop destiel AU - Endverse Cas/Dean Smith
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]
{ao3 link}
This has got to be the ninth week in a row that Dean’s come to him for yoga.
They have entered a lovely little routine.
Dean shows up three times a week after hours and on weekends they have additional, longer sessions. They’ve probably spent something like sixty hours together, counting that first visit Dean made to his shop. And that isn’t including their constant stream of texting, a large amount of which took place over Dean’s week-long vacation at his parent’s.
Dean is making excellent progress with himself and his physical feats. Something he credits completely to Castiel’s methods and overall patience.
Castiel always takes time to explain the goal and the purpose of what they’re doing. Dean thinks he's captivating with his honey-rich voice as he weaves stories about the origins of the poses and the doctrines behind what they’re doing. It makes yoga into more than exercise and Dean is absolutely loving all of it. He finds himself looking forward to the sessions as more than just an excuse to see Cas.
But obviously seeing Cas is a huge perk too. They haven’t been out on a proper date yet. Which, Dean has no reason for that other than it would be exactly the same as what’s going on now and involve cumbersome travel time.
Dean has taken to bringing snacks to their sessions. He doesn’t know if it’s good form for practicing yoga but Cas never fails to wolf down his share and whatever Dean offers of his own. Apparently work and light lunches leave him famished at the end of the day.
Dean arrives when Cas is closing up and sits with whatever bag of goodies and cups of warm drinks he’s brought until Cas joins them. He buys at the café up the street from Cas’s store and has taken a liking to their organic coffee. He’s found that it pleases Cas to no end when he gets whatever bizarre tea they happen to be serving that day. Cas keeps trying to get him to switch to some sort of tea, or at least alternate between the two beverages. Dean knows he’ll cave one of these days. Probably because of some drink sharing and kiss-oriented positive reinforcement. But until then, coffee it is.
While they eat, they talk. Dean isn’t exactly sure how they haven’t run out of anything to discuss. They’ve covered family, music, books, equal measures of Dean’s college experience and Cas’s travels, art, philosophy, and on more than one occasion aliens. It’s probably been weeks since they’ve discussed anything as mundane as their days. But even when average topics come up Cas makes it interesting. The other day he went on for a good fifteen minutes about autumn weather and it sounded like poetry to Dean. And he’ll tell Dean about customers whose stories he enjoyed hearing. The why and the how of their coming to Cas’s shop. Other times they analzyze Dean’s coworkers based on the ways Dean describes them acting during meetings. Cas’s opinions and their combined theories leave Dean’s sides aching with laughter - something Cas seems to find contagious.
The content of the sessions themselves are fantastic. Castiel’s concise words and direct approach are exactly what Dean’s perfectionistic nature needs to hone his technique. His attention to detail and ordering of the sessions are tailored specifically to what he thinks Dean needs. And Dean loves that Cas will alter what they’re doing based on how he reads Dean during their sessions. The attention warms him and it makes it easier to see the care in Cas’s features.
He’s willing to admit that his favorite part of their time together is the kissing. He’s only just started to catch on to the fact that whenever he gets frustrated with himself, Cas will kiss him. It is something that has proven effectively distracting. Enough so that it always side-tracks Dean pleasantly enough to re-approach his task with a small smile on his face.
Dean has found that sessions will usually end in a business call or a makeout session. Frequently it ends up being both. Friends, family, and conference calls are far better at being cockblocks than Dean would ever wish.
So they don’t go out on dates per se, but they exchange constant touches and kisses when they see each other, which happens multiple times per week. They discuss everything from tea to theology and when they aren’t texting or talking in person they spend time exercising.
Their relationship becomes more odd and more familiar with every visit.
Today they’ve stretched, meditated briefly, gone through a routine, and are ready to end the session with easy moves to usher them into cool-down.
Downward facing dog – something they’ve done a dozen times before.
But this time when Dean bends over and Cas places his palm on Dean’s lower back, there’s a reaction. A warm sensation that doesn’t abate, and only increases as Cas shifts his hand further along Dean’s spine and then places his other palm to Dean’s shoulder. The gentle shifting and manipulation of his body into the proper position no longer feels mundane and he’s reacting completely –
Dean’s entire body clenches, “Fuck, hold up.”
Cas draws his hands back instantly and takes a step away, “Dean?”
He’s still bent over, hands fisted on his knees and he seems winded – flushed and panting in a panicked, and not an exercise-induced manner.
“I’m okay, just-“ his eyes are squeezed shut in a manner that speaks to the contrary.
Cas helps him to the floor and immediately Dean tries to cover his crotch but Cas can still plainly see the half-hard erection he’s sporting.
“It’s fine Dean. Quite normal, really.” Cas draws his hand away and Dean covers his face for a moment as his legs slowly fall apart. He drapes his arms over his thighs and takes a sharp breath.
“Not- not for me.” He rubs the back of his neck and Castiel thinks that he almost looks like a child, sitting there so nervously with his legs splayed.
Cas sits to his left, in front of him enough so that they’re facing and can both read each other’s expressions. “Tell me,” he urges gently.
“I, uh, fuck. I don’t have … I’m not usually …,” he clears his throat, “I never really get … aroused by … other people. In general. Especially not this soon.” His tone slowly descends into a virtual whisper.
Cas nods to himself then his eyes flick back up to Dean who’s staring a hole in the floor and blushing terribly.
“Have you heard of asexuality?”
Dean nods, eyes still trained on the floorboards before him, “I think … I’m pretty sure that I’m demisexual. Yeah.” He begins to pick at a loose splinter.
Castiel thinks for a moment, “Our activities together have been incredibly intimate. Both physically and mentally.”
The rationale of his argument quells Dean a little. It had startled him to find himself in this position after knowing Cas for barely over two months. But he’s right. They have become emotionally and physically close.
“…Do our sessions – do I make you uncomfortable?”
Dean’s brow furrows and his eyes get a little wider, Cas notices when they briefly catch his own. “No, no. It’s just …”
Cas wants to let Dean speak for himself but the word slips out; “Daunting.”
Dean huffs what might be a laugh and a smile flickers across his face. “Yeah. It’s a lot. And it’s been a while. Since, you know, I’ve felt like this.” He sniffs and twitches his nose like it itches. “I … Sometimes I take people home. And it’s not bad. It’s just a lot of effort. And … acting. And it isn’t what I really want. I just kinda get in the habit of doing it every now and then.” Cas thinks he’s done but then Dean mumbles, “I like the contact. ‘S nice.” He’s gone back to twanging the splinter and it snaps off a few flicks after he’s stopped speaking.
“It’s human nature to seek out physical contact. I more than understand that mentality. I’ve done it myself on multiple occasions.”
Dean hums and looks less tense but Castiel has caught no visual cues to indicate that he actually is.
“Are you okay?”
Dean nods, and Castiel thinks that the nonverbal communications are unusually guarded.
“Just needed a sec to calm down. Sort myself out.” He swallows. “Last time this happened it didn’t go so well,” before Cas can ask, he rushes to follow up with, “Thanks, I think the talk helped.”
Castiel stands and he helps Dean up. He runs his knuckles over Dean’s cheek and Dean sighs, letting his eyelids hold out a long blink before fluttering back open.
“Can I hug you?” Cas just wants to wrap him up and protect him from everything that could possibly hurt him. Dean nods and leans in. It feels like he’s putting most if not all of his weight onto Cas and Cas holds him all the tighter for it. He tucks his face into Dean’s neck, pressing a kiss to his pulse point and taking a deep breath, “You smell nice.”
He feels Dean’s neck heat up at the comment and when they pull apart a lovely blush is gracing his cheeks. Cas smiles and reaches out to grab his hand.
“Come on. I think a good smoke is in order.”
A half-hour later, Dean leaves feeling sated and buzzed, like he’s just had a delicious meal and a glass or two of good wine. The chill of the wind isn’t enough to wipe the blush from his cheeks or the warm feeling in his belly. He shoves his hands deep in his pockets and admires the shine of the cobblestones as he walks to somewhere he can catch a cab.
