College AU, because this didn't make sense even in canon divergent. (and it's also a little long. Sorry about that!)
"Are those flowers?" Dean asks. Castiel's hands hold something behind his back.
"What? No." A bright flush crawls up his cheeks, and he backs away from his friend.
"They are flowers!" Dean tries to reach around Cas to grab at the bouquet, but he's unsuccessful. "Who are they for?"
Castiel takes another step, bumping into the wall. There's the sound of plastic wrap crinkling and a shower of orange petals float to the ground. Castiel groans.
"C'mon, Cas, who're they for?" Dean asks. He leans over, grinning.
Castiel is trapped, and he swallows convulsively. This isn't how it was supposed to go. He'd had the whole thing planned out, but Dean had caught sight of him before he'd had the chance to sneak the flowers into their dorm room.
Dean cajoles, bumping shoulders with Castiel, trying to get his friend to spill whatever information it is that he's holding back. He needles and pushes, until Castiel finally loses his cool.
Dean stares at the flowers before making a distressed sound and loping down the hall after Castiel.
"Cas?" Dean calls, but Cas ignores him. Cas shoves the door open so hard that it bangs against the exterior wall. Once outside in the quad, he picks up his pace. Dean calls his name a few times, but Cas doesn't look back, not once.
#
The thing is, he'd been planning for weeks, maybe even years. He's been in love with Dean for as long as he can remember, and they've been friends since they were kids and the Winchesters moved in next door to the Milton family. They'd both gone to Kansas U together, shared a dorm room for four years, and were about to graduate.
Cas hadn't wanted to say something, but his sister - Anna - had told him not to be an assbutt about it. There had been hitting, too, Cas remembers, rubbing the side of his head. Anna is very forceful with her opinions.
"Just tell him! If he doesn't feel the same way, it won't matter, because you're such good friends. He won't let you go as a friend over something like this."
Anna had sounded so confident, so Cas squared his shoulders and went out and bought a bouquet of flowers.
Sitting under a giant oak tree, Cas ferociously picks at the grass around him. He shouldn't have even tried, it was stupid. And now he's lost his friend - the best friend he's ever had.
He's been sitting and sulking for a long while when he hears, "There you are!" And Dean flops down next to him. Dean hands over the bouquet of flowers, now looking a little worse for wear. "You were going to do something with these, I think."
Cas stares at Dean, searching his face for some indication this is a joke. Dean's been known to play practical jokes on Sam, and the occasional one on Cas, but never something as... well, personal, as this. Dean couldn't possibly mean...
But his face is open and honest, eyes wide and... eager? He nibbles lightly on his lower lip. Cas's eyes flicker down to watch, and the tip of Dean's pink tongue peeks out of his mouth. When Cas looks up again and catches Dean's eyes, there's no hint of a smirk buried beneath, no hint that this is a joke.
"Cas," Dean says, his voice low.
Cas's heart thunders in his ears as he picks up the bouquet and hands it to Dean. "These are for you. I... um..." but Cas doesn't get the chance to say anything else. He's got a lapful of Dean, and Dean's kissing him. Dean. is kissing him. Dean tastes of mint and smells of spice, and kissing him is everything Cas thought it would be. Surrounded by Dean, the warm weight of him in his arms, resting in his lap, Cas smiles into the kiss.
This is the best thing.
SEND ME A SENTENCE, A COLOR, AND A PAIRING, AND I’LL WRITE A FICLET INCORPORATING ALL THREE
*Coughs* You should totally write a Dragon!Cas fic. Just saying.
I would like to read more dragon!Cas (or dragon!Dean!) but I don’t think I have the necessary imagination to come up with a plot to write something myself >w<
Title: Sickness and Sweaters
Author: swimmingmormonfrug
Recipient: earth-seraph
Genre: Fluff; Hurt/comfort
Pairings: Destiel; Sabriel (hint of)
Rating: PG
Word count: 2,969
Warnings: Bullying
Summary: Castiel gets sick. Dean lets him keep his sweatshirt. Their secret gets loose.
Author’s notes: Merry Christmas! Hope you like this little thing I whipped up for you ^^
Castiel was miserable. Midterms had just ended, and his family had gone to Michael’s university graduation plus an added vacation, leaving him and his brother Gabriel alone in the house for two weeks. He wasn’t missing any of them, honestly. Castiel enjoyed the peace and quiet that the absence of his family provided. So why was he so upset? He caught the flu.
“Oh, stop moping around, Cas,” Gabriel sighed, leaning against the doorway to Castiel’s room.
Castiel shot Gabriel a glare. His older brother was so much more dramatic whenever he got sick. He had absolutely no right to say anything. What an assbutt.
“Your lover boy’s on his way to see you- he texted me that because he didn’t want to bother you. Which is kinda stupid if you ask me. Him coming would have been bothersome if his texting was. Anyway, just a heads up,” Gabriel grinned, pushing off of the frame and sauntering back to the living room to watch more television.
Castiel groaned. Fevers drove him nuts, and he always coped with them by holing up and ignoring the cruel world. But last time, he didn’t have a boyfriend to come over. He gave a mental shrug and decided Dean would have to deal with him imitating a hamster.
By the time Dean arrived, Castiel had dozed off into another half-sleep. Dean sighed and sat lightly on the bed, stripping off his sweatshirt and tossing it at the foot of the bed. Gingerly putting his hand on Cas’s forehead, he raised an eyebrow at how hot he was. Castiel stirred into consciousness at the cooler touch.
“Dean,” he croaked in greeting.
“Hey there, angel,” Dean smiled, sliding his hand down to stroke Cas’s cheek. “I know we’re in a relationship and everything, but you look like crap.”
“I am aware. Has Gabriel left?”
Dean snorted. “Yeah. After calling me a ‘wife-hen’ and giving me the ‘hurt him and you die’ speech. Again. For the millionth time. Which is really stupid because he’s going off to wrap himself around Sammy. He can’t say anything,” he grumped.
Castiel chuckled, only to cut himself off with a groan at the spike of pain in his head he got from doing so.
Dean’s heart instantly slammed into his throat.
“Are you okay? What am I saying, of course you’re not okay- what do you need? Can I get you something? Water is good, right? I’ll go get you some,” he rattled, rushing out of the room to get a glass of water from the kitchen.
Castiel rolled his eyes with a quirk of his lips and raised his voice.
“I appreciate the thought, Dean. But there is already a bottle on my nightstand with some painkillers.”
“Well, more water never hurt anybody,” Dean grumbled sheepishly as he stalked back in with the full glass.
“Actually, if you drink too much water, it is possible to-”
“And I’m stopping you right there,” he interrupted. “Just let me do my goddamn job, okay Cas?”
Castiel smiled but said nothing. It was nice to be mothered once in a while, even if Dean insisted that it wasn’t anything like mothering. He was just ‘a little bit concerned’.
After several minutes of Dean fussing over Castiel’s blanket and pillow, Castiel’s stomach growled.
Dean was immediately all over that.
“Are you hungry? What can you eat? Does anything sounds good? Maybe-”
“Shut up, Dean,” Castiel grinned fondly. “I could probably keep down some soup. There’s probably a couple cans in the kitchen.”
“Yes sir,” he chuckled with a mock salute.
Dean sauntered down to the kitchen, feeling a bit better. If Cas was well enough to be his sarcastic self, it was definitely improvement. But when he reached the kitchen, there was a problem. No matter how much he rummaged around, there was no soup to be found.
“Hey Cas, I’m heading to the store to grab some soup, there isn’t any down here!” Dean called, poking his head through Castiel’s door.
Castiel sighed.
“I would tell you it would be unnecessary, but I suspect you would ignore that,” he said with a half-smile.
“And you would be guessing right!” Dean said cheerfully. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
And with that, he disappeared.
Castiel sighed and rolled onto his side with a pout, rubbing at his temples with one hand. He would much rather deal with the hunger pains if it meant Dean was going to be nearby the entire time. He stretched his legs out, drawing back slightly when something soft touched his foot.
Dean’s sweatshirt. He had left it in his haste to get food.
After a moment’s consideration, the sweatshirt was in Castiel’s arms and smushed into his face. It smelled comforting. But then again, maybe that was only because it smelled like Dean. He sighed heavily with a small smile and dozed into his first proper sleep since he first got sick.
Dean walked briskly to the kitchen table with two containers of soup in hand and set them down. Stupid lines were so freaking long. Then there was that car crash he had to maneuver around. Cas was probably starving by now. He turned and made a beeline for Cas’s room.
“Hey Cas, sorry I’m so late, you wouldn’t believe how-”
He cut himself off when he saw that Castiel was fast asleep.
“Of course you would fall asleep while I was gone,” Dean muttered affectionately.
He approached the bed to tuck Cas into the blankets more securely, then paused when he saw his sweatshirt cuddled into Cas’s arms. If anybody asked, he would completely deny that there was a huge, goofy grin across his face at the sight of it.
Dean carefully draped the blanket over Cas and planted a kiss on his forehead before walking out silently, closing the door behind him.
After lounging around on the couch for an hour, Dean started to think that Castiel wouldn’t be getting up again anytime soon. He poked around for a piece of paper and a pen. After leaving the note for Cas taped to the inside of the door to his room, Dean left the house and went back home.
The next morning, Castiel woke up feeling almost one hundred percent better. Closer to ninety percent. It would probably increase to ninety five after he took a nice shower. When he looked down, he was a bit embarrassed to see he still had Dean’s sweatshirt clutched in his arms. He let go of it and stumbled out of bed. When he caught sight of the note taped to his door, he couldn’t help but smile.
Hey angel-
You look like you’re going to sleep for a while, so I’m going back home.
Left you the soup on the table. Heat it up and eat when you can.
Love you!
-Dean
P.S. Keep the sweatshirt. I kinda like the idea of you wearing it ;)
Castiel huffed out a laugh and shook his head, wincing a bit as his head gave a mild throb. A shower would definitely help.
When Castiel was done soaking and redressed, he took the note from the door and set it on his nightstand. He glanced longingly at the sweatshirt lying at the foot of his bed, then made his mind. He wanted to wear it. Dean liked the idea of him wearing it. Well, kinda liked. But liked.
In a rush of movement, Castiel grabbed the sweatshirt and pulled it over his head. He grinned giddily and stuck his face into his shoulder, breathing in Dean’s scent. After a thought, he grabbed his phone and called Dean.
“Hey angel! Feeling alright?”
“Yes Dean. I am feeling all better, thank you. Would you like to come over today?”
“Hell yeah. But we aren’t going crazy. You are going to sit still and-”
“Yes, yes, get better for school. I will see you soon.”
“Right back atcha Cas.”
When the doorbell went off, Castiel got up from his new perch on the living room sofa and answered the door.
“Hey Cas! I brought more soup and-”
Dean stopped talking. Why though? Castiel thought with a frown. He waved a hand in front of Dean’s face.
“Dean. Do I look worse than usual?” he asked dryly.
Dean blinked.
“No. Definitely no. Just. Uh. Keep that sweatshirt on. Everyday,” he demanded.
“Somebody has a possessive streak,” Castiel snickered.
“Shut up,” Dean said good-naturedly. “By the way, your brother’s at my house. He told me to tell you the family’s extended their trip. They’re not coming back ‘til next Tuesday.”
“And that is fine by me,” Cas said with a nod. He could very much deal with not having his family around for a longer period of time. “So what else did you bring?”
Dean blinked rapidly and cast his mind back to the subject at hand.
“A couple movies. I meant it when I said we’re not doing anything crazy,” he grinned.
“Fine,” Castiel sighed, conceding with a roll of his eyes.
Three movies, four cups of soup, and several hours of cuddling later, Dean went back home when Gabriel barged through the front door. He was back bright and early the next morning, and it was only after another full day of mothering Cas that Dean felt confident in Cas’s health status.
On Monday, whispers, glances, and even glares were all aimed in Castiel’s direction. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t until school ended that he found out the reason for the attention.
“Hey fag!”
Castiel ignored the comment and kept walking towards the direction of the public library. If some idiots were harassing an openly gay person, he sure as hell wasn’t going to join in.
“We’re talking to you Castiel,” a girl sighed.
He froze. Castiel turned around slowly, sighing tensely.
“What do you want, Meg?” he asked evenly.
“You know he doesn’t even really like you? He’s probably just experimenting. Then he’s going to drop and move on to somebody who actually deserves him,” she grinned.
Castiel’s heart plummeted. How did they know? They had been so careful to keep it all a secret, except from Sam and Gabriel. Then it hit him.
The sweatshirt. He had thrown it on in the morning without a second thought. Dean had said nothing about it during lunch, and neither had Sam or Gabriel.
He whipped around and walked faster along his way, doing his best the hateful words now being thrown at him by Meg and her gang of friends. His best wasn’t good enough.
“Slut!”
“You actually like being his boy-toy, don’t you?”
“Little bitch!”
Castiel gave his head a little shake and practically sprinted towards the library. He immediately holed himself into a corner table and threw himself into his work, only pausing to strip off Dean’s sweatshirt and stuffing it into his bag, fighting back tears the entire time.
Dean knew something was wrong the minute he picked Cas up from the library. He wasn’t talking any more or any less than usual, but there was something in the way he held himself, plus a dullness in his eyes, that set alarms ringing in Dean’s head.
“What the hell happened?” he asked without preliminary.
Castiel shook his head. He didn’t want to upset Dean, sure. But more importantly, he didn’t want to find out that all of the accusations made were true.
Dean sighed.
“We’re going to be talking about this,” he warned.
Castiel shrugged.
Dean ran a hand through his hair and sped his way to Castiel’s home. The second they were inside, Dean grabbed Cas’s arms and sat him down on the nearest seat.
“Cas, seriously. What happened?” he asked, doing his best to keep a demanding note out of it.
Castiel deflated, sagging into Dean’s grasp with a small groan.
“Are you really just experimenting on me?” he mumbled.
Dean gave Cas a strange look.
“The hell gave you that idea? You’re not some weird science experiment. Hell, I hate science.”
“Not like that,” Castiel snorted. “Ruby and her friends say that you don’t actually like me. You’re just experimenting with your sexuality, and when you’re done, you’ll go off and fine somebody who’s actually worth your while,” he parroted bitterly, glaring at the ground between them.
Dean blinked.
“Oh hell no,” he deadpanned.
He leaned forward and drew Cas into a hug. It wouldn’t do well to blow up with anger, as much as he wanted to. First things first, he had to set Cas straight. He moved his hands from Cas’s arms to his face, forcing eye contact.
“That is one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. I did all my experimenting years ago,” he grinned wryly. “Plus, if it was just experimenting, I would’ve just had sex with you and moved on. Obviously, I didn’t do that. So get those ideas outta your head, will you?” he demanded gently.
Castiel huffed out a laugh. It was rather silly of him to allow any of those thoughts to fester. Not that he was going to tell that to Dean.
“Yes, I understand,” he said with a hint of a smile.
He then twisted out of Dean’s hold and reached for his bag.
“I think I should give you this back though. I’ve kept it for quite long enough,” he said, pulling out Dean’s sweatshirt and offering it.
Dean pushed it back with a frown.
“Keep it. Even if you won’t wear it in public. Just. Keep it.”
Castiel smiled and pulled it over himself with a content sigh.
“Well, if you insist,” he grinned.
Dean replied firmly, “I do.”
When Dean left later that night, his bag was just a bit fatter and softer than it was when he first came in. Castiel didn’t notice.
The next day, the whispers, glances, and glares were all still there, with some added giggles. Castiel had expected this, even if Dean’s sweatshirt was neatly folded on his bed back home. He knew he couldn’t do anything about it. And if he showed that he was upset, Dean would get upset as well. Filling his mind with comforting words from Dean the night before, Castiel squared his shoulders and muddled through his day as best he could. But lunch could not come quickly enough.
But it came eventually. And if anything, he would have his brother and the Winchesters to cower behind. So with that thought in mind, he took a steadying breath and strode into the cafeteria, going straight for the table he ate at.
All of the attention itched at Castiel. He felt his cheeks starting to burn and his limbs starting to stiffen as he powered through the tables. The noise of the students felt amplified and it was all getting to be just too much when-
Castiel’s thoughts ground to a stop. Dean, Sam, and Gabriel were all there, as usual. Sam in plaid, as usual. Gabriel being flamboyant, as usual. Dean in Castiel’s sweater- absolutely not as usual.
It wasn’t until Dean called that he realized he had stopped walking.
“Hey angel! What’re you standing around for? Get your ass over here!”
And if that wasn’t the smuggest grin he’d ever seen on Dean’s face, Castiel would eat his textbook. He dumbly sat down at the table. His brain felt disconnected from his body. His brain just refused to believe what his eyes were transmitting.
“How does that even fit you?” he blurted.
Dean raised an eyebrow with a smirk on his face.
“I stole your biggest one,” he shrugged.
No matter what it looked on the outside, internally, Dean was panicking. The look on Castiel’s face at the sight of his sweater had raised his pulse, but not in the sexy way. Maybe this was a crap way of coming out to the school.
“You don’t… mind, do you? Me stealing your sweater? And wearing it?” he asked with shifty eyes.
The laugh that huffed out of Cas sent a shot of relief through Dean’s system.
“No, I don’t really care. I suppose it is fair. After all, I’m keeping your sweatshirt,” Cas said with a quirk of his lips.
The laugh that escaped Dean startled even him. Excellent. Because he seriously did not want to take off that sweater. In a sudden rush of confidence, he stood up on his seat.
“Hey everyone!” he bellowed. “Yes, this is Castiel’s sweater. Yes, he was wearing my sweater yesterday. But guess what? I love this hella sexy guy, and he loves me. So piss off, understand?”
And with that, he hopped off, yanked Cas up by his front and pulled him in for a kiss to a bunch of catcalls and hisses. Not that he gave a damn.
When he pulled away, he felt a tug of satisfaction mixed with a dash of trepidation at the huge blush on Cas’s face.
“Too much?” he whispered.
Castiel shook his head.
“Never,” he grinned, tugging Dean back in for another kiss.
Castiel felt like he could stay there forever, even with the entire school judging them over their meal. Of course, all good things had to come to an end.
“Mister Winchester. Mister Novak. As happy as I am for the two of you, I must ask that you sit back down and let everybody eat in peace,” a dry voice floated from their side.
When Castiel saw who was addressing them, his eyes widened, and his face flooded with heat.
“I apologize, Mr. Shurley,” Castiel choked out.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Dean echoed.
Their teacher shook his head and gave them a wry smile before moving along.
Castiel and Dean sat down heavily at their table.
“Well that was fun,” Gabriel offered. “I took pictures for posterity!”
