Ahhh congrats on 1.5k!!! You really deserve it. 💜💜💜 For the song prompts I’m going to say electric blue by the cranberries because wow what a destiel song.
thank you Zoe! <3
Castiel’s favourite thing to do is watch the sun rise.
Up here, above the planet, everything is calm and serene. Morning doesn’t really exist in space, but no matter what, the sun rises again and again, and it never fails to be any less beautiful. Watching the dawn break, watching the light wash over so many millions of square miles down on Earth… it’s an incredible feeling.
There are billions of people down there, and Castiel gets to watch the light touch every single one of them.
When he’d first applied to become an astronaut, he’d thought that the most incredible thing about it would be the weightlessness, or the exploring, or the sheer adrenaline of having your body catapulted out of the atmosphere in a rocket. He’d done it for the adventure, and for the fact that the earth has always seemed too not enough for him. Castiel wants to see what’s beyond it, out among the stars. He’s always been like that.
And then he’d begun his training, fresh-faced and eager to get into a spacesuit and get going already…
And he’d met Dean.
Dean, an engineer from Mission Control, smart as a fucking whip and entrusted with the complex calculations and seamless functioning of the rockets.
Dean, whose passions lie out among the stars, but whose feet are and always will be planted firmly on the ground.
Dean is beautiful, all green eyes and sharp wit and a smile that could melt a thousand hearts. He’s funny and clever and so passionate about what he does that Castiel can’t help but get lost in his words whenever he talks about his work because while he may not understand the meaning behind them, the intensity is captivating.
Their work doesn’t overlap much, what with Castiel training for his first mission and Dean working to make sure his rocket will stay in one piece, but they get glimpses of each other. Glimpses turn into occasional meetings, and then not-so-casual run-ins that Castiel definitely doesn’t try to orchestrate, and then finally, Dean asks him out on a date with a twinkle in his eye and a knowing smile curving his lips.
Dating Dean is just as perfect as Castiel had known it would be.
They spend as much of their time together as possible, because Cas leaves on his first mission in three months, and they have to make the most of it. Neither of them had been entirely sure what would happen between them when it came time for him to leave, but one thing becomes clear to Castiel as the date of his mission looms ever closer.
For all that he had wanted to leave, to be out among the stars by himself and seeing things no human ever has before…
Dean makes him want to come back.
When the day comes for him to leave, it’s not the triumphant departure he’d pictured. He’s not overwhelmed with excitement—mostly excited, yes, because it’s always been his dream to go to space and here he is—but instead there’s a little tinge of sadness amongst the adrenaline.
Dean isn’t in Ground Control today. Instead, he’s at the launch pad with Castiel, by his side as much as he can be in his final moments before liftoff. They get a moment to say goodbye to the people they love, and they hold each other close as though it would take all the world to pry them apart.
But eventually, they have to separate. One last goodbye, one last kiss, and then Dean is gone, and Cas takes his place in the rocket.
Adrenaline, excitement, but also sadness.
Longing.
Because as Castiel rockets towards the stars… he knows that he’s leaving a piece of his heart behind on Earth.
~
His radio crackles to life, right on time, and Castiel smiles as he floats over to it.
This is Ground Control to the ISS, come in, Novak.
The voice is achingly familiar, and Castiel’s heart twinges as he looks down at the planet where the sun continues to stretch across its beautiful landscape.
“Novak to Ground Control,” he replies, thinking of the one person down there who’s enough to keep him returning to the ground every single time. “Hello, Dean.”
Summary: Breaking down on the way to give a talk at the University of Kansas turns out to be more gratification than frustration for celebrity astrophysicist Castiel Novak when he's rescued by one of KU's own professors. Dean Winchester—mechanical engineer and fan of famous nerds—invites Cas into his home and his bed while he sorts out his car troubles.
What starts out as hot sex continues as hot sex, but also grows into a more profound emotional connection as the two get to know each other outside the sheets.
Who doesn’t a love a story about a one-night stand that turns into something much more? In this one, Dean and Cas fall into bed together pretty damn quick after they meet, but that’s only the beginning of something wonderful between them. And unlike a lot of other stories that gloss over the struggles of a developing relationship, this one does not. It’s not a particularly angsty story, but the very real issues that come up when establishing a relationship are given respectful treatment without ever overshadowing the fun, sexy bits. And trust me, there are a lot of those. That instant chemistry they feel on their first meeting is sustained through the entire story, and put to extremely good use in a variety of creative ways.
Something else that really makes this story stand out is its treatment of background characters. While they certainly do play the usual roles of being there to give support and advice while our two favourite lovers figure their lives and love out, they also have nuance and depth that really help round out this ‘verse, making it feel warm and welcoming and fully realized. It’s hot and funny and heartfelt and simply a joy to read.
Sorry for the wait!!! Here we have our special guest star, who threw a spanner in the metaphorical works by bringing up angles I hadn’t even considered. Enjoy!
Dean woke to a pounding on the door of Castiel’s apartment. He opened one eye.
“You expecting anybody, Cas?” he asked blearily.
“Mmmf,” Castiel replied unhelpfully. He wrapped his arms tighter around Dean. There wasn’t much space in the bed, so the nights they slept here were spent smushed right up against each other. Dean wasn’t complaining.
There were a few more loud bangs, and then the sound of a key in the lock. Dean sat up and planted his feet on the floor.
“Cas, who has a key to your—“
“Cassie, baby! I’m ho-ome!”
The door flew open and a man stepped in, arms outstretched, plastic bags hanging from his hands. He went straight to the kitchen counter and started unloading groceries.
“Mmmf,” Castiel repeated. He tried to grab at Dean, but Dean shook him awake.
“Cas, you gotta get up, angel, there’s someone here—“
“It’s just Gabriel,” Castiel muttered. “Come back to bed.”
“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!” The man—Gabriel – shouted from the other side of the apartment. “I’m making breakfast, and you’re going to love it!”
Dean got up and reached for his shirt and pants, dressing quickly.
“You must be Dean-o!” Gabriel said brightly, measuring flour into a bowl. “I can see what Cassie sees in you,” he added, giving Dean a once-over and a lurid wink. Dean blushed.
“Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m Dean, Cas’s—um, boyfriend,” Dean said. Dressed, he walked to the kitchen and stuck out his hand. “Gabriel – Cas’s brother, right?”
“That I am!” Gabriel said. “Twizzler?” He held out a package to Dean. Dean shook his head. “More for me,” Gabriel said, putting one in his mouth. “Get up, Cassie, we’ve got places to be! Things to do!”
“It’s Sunday, and I go to space in three days,” Castiel muttered, still under the covers. “Let me sleep, Gabriel.”
“Not a chance,” Gabriel shot back.
“I’ll… I’ll make coffee,” Dean said, completely thrown off balance. If this was the kind of energy Gabriel had at seven a.m. on a Sunday, no wonder he owned a cupcake franchise that was fast taking over the Southwest.
Once the coffee was made and pancakes were sizzling in the pan, Castiel did get up. He didn’t bother getting dressed, just slouched over to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee, practically inhaling it as he perched on a stool.
“Tired, angel?” Dean asked. Castiel shook his head.
“I’m going to need this if I’m going to deal with him all day.”
Gabriel took that as a cue to set three heaping stacks of pancakes on the counter.
“Dig in, boys!” Gabriel commanded. Dean did as he was told.
“Holy shit,” Dean said around his first mouthful. “These are awesome.”
“I’m not just a pretty face,” Gabriel told him with a smirk. “Though the rumours that I slept my way to the top are true.”
“Baker’s hours, little bro!” Gabriel told him, waving a spatula in his face. “I’ve been up for four hours already, while you were busy cuddling with your space cowboy.”
Castiel made a face, but he ate his pancakes anyway while Dean and Gabriel demolished their own stacks.
“I’m serious, man,” Dean said. “What do you put in these?”
“Crack,” Gabriel told him soberly. Dean froze. Gabriel burst out laughing. “Come on, man! I can’t tell you that!” He tapped the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”
“Alright, Gabriel,” Castiel said, draining his coffee, “what do you have planned?”
“Oh, I don’t plan,” Gabriel said breezily. “I go where the universe takes me.” Castiel stared at him.
“We have a ribbon cutting at one and a gala reception at five,” Gabriel said. “You’re coming.”
“To which?” Castiel groused.
“Both of them!” Gabriel announced. “Cassie, baby, we’ve got to show a little family togetherness! I’m opening locations all through the Bible Belt, they wanna see my family values!”
“Then you should get a new family,” Castiel told him. Dean looked from one brother to the other, and couldn’t tell who looked more stubborn.
“No can do, baby bro,” Gabriel said, “We’re all stuck with the one we got.”
“Get Michael to do it,” Castiel argued. “Or Luke. Or anybody. Hire an actor.”
“No, no, no,” Gabriel said. “My public need authenticity! They want to meet the man behind the magic! The cup behind the cake! The heart under the chef’s hat! Besides,” he added, “Michael’s on assignment and I haven’t heard from Luke since his band broke up.”
“His band broke up?” Castiel asked, eyebrows knitting together. “I thought they were doing okay.”
“When has anything Luke turned his claws to ‘gone okay’?” Gabriel asked. “Truth is, Cassie-cakes, you are truly the most stable, most successful, most likable of my brothers, and I need you to come smile for the cameras. And bring your boyfriend.”
“Wait,” Dean said. “I thought you wanted Cas to make you look good because you were opening locations in the Bible Belt, and you wanted them to see your ‘family values’… wouldn’t bringing your little brother’s boyfriend kind of mess with those plans?”
“Not at all,” Gabriel told him. “It’s all part of my master plan. Get up there, talk about how important it is to honour family, values, tradition, all the things that make little old ladies cry tiny tears of joy, and then as an example of that, introduce them to my baby bro and his adorable, male-modelling astronaut boy toy.” Gabriel sighed. “I have visions of angry op-eds dancing in my head. Even better than sugar plums.”
“You’re baiting people?” Dean asked.
“Not a surprise,” Castiel said, staring at his plate.
“Exactly,” Gabriel said. “Finally, someone who gets it. They criticize me, I look innocent – ‘o, whatever could you mean? This is my family’ – then other people criticize them for criticizing me, and boom bang pow, the opening of my one hundredth location moves from page six to page one. And,” he added, “if there’s a picture of the three of us, we go above the fold. The headline: Brave Baker Stands By Bi Brother.”
“Did you even consider,” Castiel asked evenly, “that I wouldn’t want to be a prop in your publicity stunt?”
“Never crossed my mind,” Gabriel said sweetly. “I know you’re a sucker for duty, loyalty and family. And for my pancakes.”
“No,” Castiel said, soaking up the last of the syrup on his plate with a bite of pancake.
“Then, consider this a practice run.” Gabriel said.
“Practice for what?” Dean asked.
“You really don’t see it?” Gabriel asked. “You two are about to become the First Gays in Space.”
“No, we aren’t,” Castiel said. “Ever heard of Sally Ride?
“Drop the act, Cassie, you know there’s a world of difference between a retired astronaut coming out in her will and two astronauts who are in a relationship with each other going on a mission.” Gabriel looked from Castiel to Dean and back again. “Before you take off, there’ll be reporters. While you’re up in the atmosphere, there’ll be bloggers. And when you get back down again? Book deals! Speaking engagements! Oprah’s couch!”
“Oprah doesn’t have a show anymore,” Castiel corrected.
“Ellen’s couch then!” Gabriel said, exasperated. “What are you two planning to do with all that?” Dean looked at Castiel.
“I never thought about it,” Dean said. “I mean—I’ve been out for years, but it’s never really been newsworthy.”
“Well, you’re newsworthy now,” Gabriel told him. “And you better decide how you’re going to tell your story before you get in front of a microphone.” He threw the spatula into the sink. “I have things to do, so do these dishes and talk amongst yourselves. But I will be back—“ he looked sternly at Castiel – “to pick you up for the ribbon-cutting. Wear something nice.”
Gabriel strolled out of the apartment, and silence descended. Dean looked at Castiel.
“So?” Dean asked. Castiel shrugged.
“So what?”
“So, what are we going to do?” Dean asked, filling the sink with water. “About today, Gabriel’s thing, about all the – publicity and reporters and stuff.”
Castiel got up and stood behind Dean, putting his arms around his waist and laying his head on his shoulder.
“We don’t have to do anything we don’t want to,” Castiel told him. “If you want us to keep our relationship private, we can do that.”
Dean turned around in Castiel’s arms.
“And what if I don’t want to keep our relationship private?” he asked. “What if I want everyone to know how much I love you?”
Dean Winchester, a successful but perpetually overworked and overtired engineer, meets chef and restaurant owner Castiel, his new neighbor. Castiel courts him in the form of homemade meals in Tupperware containers and handwritten notes, and Dean eventually takes it upon himself to return the favour.
Written for @hartlessfiction, as part of the @fandomtrumpshate auction.
Dean likes to think of himself as quite the accomplished man.
He’s one of the lead engineers for the biggest biomedical company in the country, has his own expensive apartment, and even though people give him funny looks about his lack of a mate at the ripe age of thirty, he’s perfectly happy where he is. His work is his life, and he loves knowing that his passion has had such a positive impact on so many people.
For someone so accomplished, though, he’s pretty bad at… well, at just taking care of himself. He sleeps too little, stays up too late tinkering with new ideas, and sometimes just straight up forgets to feed himself until his stomach is growling like it’s gone feral and there’s nothing in the fridge.
Tonight is one of those nights.
Dean’s been tasked with designing a new prosthetic arm for one of their clients, and it’s kept him busy all day, to the point where he’s brought his work laptop home with him (something he swore he wouldn’t do when he first started his engineering work, and a rule that is now broken on an almost nightly basis) and is poring over the blueprints.
“If I wire it this way… and connect the joints through here,” he mutters to himself, chewing on the end of his note-scribbling pen as he thinks. “Then I should be able to… yes!”
Breakthroughs are always satisfying, especially when they come off a full hour of combing through circuits and wracking his brain for how he can make everything more efficient, more realistic. Dean sets his pen down, saves the file on his laptop, then sits up from his hunched position on his couch. His back pops as he stretches—it’s only when he moves out of uncomfortable positions like these that he realizes just how badly he’s been sitting, and how deeply engrossed he’s been in his work. Still, the stretch feels amazing after staying still for so long, and he sighs happily.
His stomach rumbles.
How the fuck is it nine already? Dean thinks as he checks the clock on his laptop for the first time in what feels like one hour but was, in actual fact, three. Fucking hell, he can imagine the bitchface Sam would give him if he found out Dean was forgetting to feed himself before 9pm on a Thursday night. It’s times like this that make him think he really needs to get his shit together.
But he has his shit together… just not when it comes to the household chores side of life. Which isn’t to say that he thinks that that responsibility would fall to an omega, if he was mated. No, Dean’s an adult who’s capable of making his own dinner and washing his own laundry… if he weren’t so crazy busy and easily distracted by shiny new challenges.
He pulls himself up off the couch with a groan and makes his way over to the kitchen, which may as well be covered in dust apart from the microwave and the small patch of countertop where he makes his cereal every morning. There’s a stack of takeaway menus by the stove, and Dean pulls one out at random, already knowing full well that all he’s got in the fridge are a few beers, some leftover slices of cheese, and a yoghurt so old that he’s legitimately worried it might wave at him if he opens it. The menu is the one for the Thai place just down the block, which at least means that he can go pick it up in person and stretch his legs—because he sure as hell didn’t make it to the gym like he planned tonight.
Once the phone call has been made, and his usual combination of food ordered, Dean sinks back down onto the couch to wait out the twenty minutes until he has to leave. Resisting the urge to power his laptop back up, because god knows how much time will magically pass by if he does, he instead settles for turning on the TV and distracting himself with whatever happens to be on. It’s not particularly riveting, but it holds his attention enough for him to resist the call of semi-complete blueprints, and it’s not long before the alarm he set to leave is going off.
Shoes on, coat on, wallet and apartment keys in his pockets (because he’s definitely forgotten both of those before, distracted by work). He’s good to go.
The hallway outside his apartment is quiet, with no signs of his neighbors. Not that he’s met the newest one who’s moved into the apartment right next to his, number 304, but everyone seems to either be out and about tonight, or hiding away in their homes—like Dean is going to be in ten minutes’ time. It’s fine by him, though, since he’s sporting a five o’clock shadow that’s starting to get longer than he’d like, and he very clearly has not been getting the recommended eight hours a night. His neighbors know that he works hard, but he’s kinda like to make a bit of a better impression on the new person.
Which is why (because fate fucking hates him sometimes), Dean fails to check whether the elevator is occupied before he steps into it, and almost shoulder checks the poor guy trying to get out on this floor.
“Shit—fuck, dude, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he says, putting out his hands to keep one or both of them from falling over. Beneath the baggy trench coat is muscle, and the guy’s eyes are blue, and when he inhales sharply, he can scent spices and woodsmoke and omega.
“I—um.” Dean still has one hand on the man’s bicep, and another on his chest, and they’re so close that he can feel the heat radiating off his body. “Hi.”
It’s here! It’s just a collection of cute scenes, but at least I wrote something and now I feel like I can finish this thing. Woo!
Dean knew from the pale green glow under the door that Cas was still at work. He knocked, just to be polite, even though he knew Cas probably wouldn’t notice. He squeaked the door open, and there was Cas, staring at his computer screen with an elbow on his desk and two fingers lifted to his parted lips. Dean cleared his (suddenly dry) throat.
“Whatcha lookin’ at, Cas?” he asked softly, standing behind the absent-minded astrophysicist.
“The new numbers from the gravitational analysis of Jupiter’s moons.” Cas sighed. “The data’s compiling. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Dean took a closer look, and sure enough the green numbers were racing down the black screen, tracing an intricate pattern that Cas would be sure to expound upon, at length, over the course of many future dates.
“You’re right,” he said. “It is beautiful.” He put an arm around Cas’s shoulder and leaned in, revelling in his boyfriend’s warmth.
Dean smirked and pointed at the screen. “Blonde. Brunette. Redhead.”
Cas craned his neck to look at Dean.
“Moons don’t have hair, Dean.”
“It’s a Matrix reference, man.” Dean ruffled Cas’ hair playfully. “Tell me you’ve at least heard of it.”
“Is Matrix a movie?” Cas asked warily.
“Only an awesome one.”
“Then no.” Cas turned back to the screen.
Two hallways and a stairwell away, Charlie was startled into dropping an armful of files all over the floor when she heard Dean’s roar.
“YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU’VE NEVER SEEN THE MATRIX?!?”
Charlie started gathering her scattered paperwork. Looks like movie night would be at Dean’s this weekend.
***
“So Cas,” Dean looked up with a shit-eating grin, “how do magnets work?”
“They fucking don’t, Dean,” Castiel glared at him. “They just take up space in my office and prevent me from working, because you put them there to prank me.”
Dean bent in half laughing.
“Worth it,” he gasped. “So worth it.”
Every metal surface in Castiel’s office was covered in hideous, kitschy magnets that Dean had raided three thrift stores to find. Castiel pulled one off and read.
“Relationships: because sometimes, ruining your life is a two person job?” Castiel stared Dean down. “You’re going to pay for this, Dean.”
Dean recovered from his laughing fit long enough to peck Cas on the cheek.
“Still worth it,” he whispered into Castiel’s ear.
“I am going to fuck you until you can’t walk,” Castiel threatened. Dean winked, then turned his back and strutted out of the office.
“Even more worth it now!” Dean crowed.
***
Dean shrugged off the last piece of his suit. The Neutral Buoyancy Facility was humming with activity, but he was exhausted. He sat down on the bench in the locker room and put his face in his hands. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but didn’t look up.
“Hey, Cas,” he said.
“Dean,” Castiel replied. He sat down next to Dean, his hand still on his shoulder. “How are you?”
“Beat, man,” Dean told him.
“Only a week to go, now,” Castiel said. Dean sighed.
“What if—“ Dean shook his head. “What if I’m not ready?”
“You are,” Castiel reassured him. “You will be. They wouldn’t let you go up there otherwise.”
Dean looked at Castiel. Those blue eyes gazing back at him, the face calm, at peace.
“How are you dealing with all of this?” Dean asked. “Aren’t you freaking out?” Castiel inclined his head.
“A little,” he admitted. “But I trust the people we work with. I trust you,” he added. Dean rubbed his temples.
“That may be a bad move, Cas,” Dean said, half-joking. Castiel shook his head.
“I’m an excellent judge of character,” Castiel told him. “Besides, I have something better for us to do right now.”
“What is it?” Dean asked. Castiel smiled.
“Follow me.”
Their suits put away and the training session debriefed, Dean joined Castiel in the Continental. He never though he’d get used to riding shotgun, but Castiel had made it easy. They spent so many nights at each other’s apartments that they ended up riding to work together more days than not. Dean let himself relax, holding Castiel’s hand as they drove through the city. Dean’s eyebrows quirked up in question as Castiel took an unexpected exit and headed south.
“Where are we—“ Dean asked.
“You’ll see,” Castiel cut him off, squeezing his hand. Dean smiled. At least Castiel still had the energy to plan a surprise.
They pulled up into a parking lot overlooking a nearly empty beach. Waves surged onto the sand and drew back, followed by another crash of waves. Dean let go of Castiel’s hand to get out of the car, and a strong wind hit him in the face. Castiel joined him and held out his hand.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
Dean and Castiel walked along the beach, a little closer together than normal to crowd out the cold. Suddenly, Castiel stopped.
“Look,” he pointed up at the sky. Dean squinted. Just above the horizon, he could make out one small star glimmering in the dusk.
“We’re going up there,” Castiel said. “Not to Venus, obviously, but to where the stars are. We’re going up there,” he squeezed Dean’s hand, “because we’re the best fit for the job. You are an incredible engineer, strategist, scientist, person. You are an amazing human being, and I am so, so profoundly lucky to have you in my life. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else but you.”
Dean didn’t say anything. He just leaned forward and rested his forehead against Castiel’s. They stood like that for a long time. Dean sniffed, and Castiel swept his thumb over the back of Dean’s hand.
Dean pulled Castiel into a crushing hug.
“Me too,” was all he said. “Me too, angel.”
***
“What’s this?” Castiel asked. Dean froze.
“Um, nothing,” Dean said unconvincingly. Castiel squinted at him.
“What are you doing in my office? Standing on my desk?”
Dean sighed.
“I was hoping to get this done before you got back—“
“And you didn’t, and now I want to know what you mean by—“ Castiel pulled out the air quotes “—this.”
Dean picked up the paper tube on the desk and unrolled it. Castiel put his hand to his mouth.
“Dean,” he breathed. “Where did you—“
“C’mon, Cas, these are not hard to find,” Dean grunted, a little embarrassed, glad no one else was watching him standing on the desk holding an unfurled Beyoncé poster like a flag. “I just—I wanted to give you something, and—“ Dean shrugged lamely.
“It’s beautiful,” Castiel said. “I love it.” Dean grinned.
“Wanna help me put it up?” Dean asked.
“No,” Castiel folded his arms. “I’d much rather watch you do it.”
Dean blushed, but he turned around and got to work anyway, sneaking glances over his shoulder at Castiel.
A fun installment!!! I enjoyed writing this, but it also took me to some emotional places because...
SAMMY AND JESS COME FOR A VISIT! YAAAAYYY!
Happy, fluffy, fun brotherly good times here. Also a bit of weed, because I’m a sucker for Stoner!Sammy. Not too OOC, I assure you.
Dean was nearly vibrating with excitement. Castiel wanted to tell him to calm down, that Sam and his fiancée Jessica would be here soon enough, but he didn’t want to spoil a second of Dean’s enjoyment.
“When did they say they’d be here?” Castiel asked.
“They were thinking around six,” Dean told him. “So, any minute now.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting them,” Castiel said, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I hope they like me.”
“I hope Sammy got a haircut,” Dean grunted, but he smiled anyway. “They’ll love you, angel.”
They heard a horn toot in the driveway, and Dean rushed to the door, pausing to gather his cool before opening the door.
“Hey Sammy!” Dean crowed. Sam unfolded his long legs from the driver’s seat and got out, crossing the lawn.
“Dean!” The brothers hugged fiercely while Sam’s fiancée, Jessica, got out of the car and looked on fondly.
“How was the drive?” Dean asked, patting Sam on the back.
“Long,” Jessica moaned. “Twenty-eight hours, all told.” She leaned in and gave Dean a quick hug.
“Worth it, though,” Sam countered. “Remember the coyotes we saw in New Mexico?”
“What about the rattlesnake you saw?” Jess teased.
“It snuck up on me!” Sam protested. “Honestly, you’d think it would be safe to make a quick pit stop.”
“On the side of the road,” Jess needled. “In the middle of the desert. At night.”
“Still having a hard time holdin’ it, Sammy?” Dean teased. “Travelling with this one’s like having a dog in the back seat,” he explained. “Gotta let him out every two hours for a run and a piss.”
Sam frowned, but Dean could tell there wasn’t any malice behind the familiar bitchface. Jess nodded.
“I let him get us burritos for lunch on the second day,” Jess made a face. “Big mistake.”
“Jess!” Sam made a show of being wounded, his hand flung to his heart. “How could you?”
“Nothing I don’t know already, little brother,” Dean grinned.
“I’d like to make a good impression on Castiel, though,” Sam countered. He stuck out his big square hand. “Sam Winchester, Dean’s little brother.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sam said. He stretched and yawned. “Sorry,” he said. “Like Jess said. Long drive.” Sam turned to Dean. “I’m starving,” he said. “Are we going to go get something to eat?”
“You got it,” Dean told him.
“Can we get Mexican?” Sam asked hopefully. Jess punched his arm playfully.
“Not on your life,” she said.
They piled into the Impala – Castiel surrendered shotgun to Sam and joined Jessica in the backseat. A short while later, the four were packed into the comfortable booths at the Roadhouse. Castiel kept them talking about the highlights of their drive down to Texas.
“Why didn’t you fly?” Castiel asked. “It would have taken less time. And considering the price of gas, it may well cost less, too.”
“Not enough leg room on the plane,” Dean joked. Sam and Jess exchanged a sly glance. Castiel quirked his mouth and tilted his head, but their food arrived before he could keep up his line of questioning.
“This looks great,” Sam said, digging in. “Didn’t know you could get salads like this outside of California.”
“You and Cas have that in common,” Dean said, around a mouthful of burger, “you both think you can live off rabbit food.
“It’s healthy, Dean,” Sam lectured, waving the lettuce speared on his fork. “Means I’ll live past fifty.”
A look passed between the brothers and a sudden chill fell over the table.
“I didn’t mean—“ Sam started.
“I know,” Dean waved him off. “I know.”
Jess and Castiel exchanged curious glances.
“Hey,” Dean said suddenly. “Did I ever tell you about the time I filled Sam’s pants with itching powder?”
Jess laughed, and Sam rolled his eyes.
“Please, Dean,” Sam said, bitchface firmly in place. “Do you really want to get into this?”
“Get into what?” Castiel asked.
“The legendary Winchester brothers prank war,” Dean said, grinning. “Of which I am, of course, the undisputed victor.”
“Ask if,” Sam shot back. “Are you forgetting about the beer bottle I glued to your hand?” Dean rolled his eyes.
“Juvenile,” Dean said dismissively.
“And the itching powder was the height of class?” Sam challenged. “Or messing with my laptop?”
“Hey, you crossed the line first,” Dean retorted. “Messing with my car. Now that’s beyond the pale.”
Dean and Sam filled Jess and Castiel in on the history of the prank war, arguing over most of the points, occasionally forgetting who played what prank on whom, and generally trying to embarrass each other in front of their respective significant others. Before long, their plates were clean and the bill was paid.
“Why don’t we go for a drive?” Sam suggested. Castiel missed the knowing look that passed between the brothers.
“But you just got here,” Castiel said. “Didn’t you just spend twenty eight hours in a car?”
“It’s different when it’s for fun,” Dean explained. They set off once again, and Dean drove towards one of the parks he’d discovered hiking with Cas. The Impala wound up through lanes shaded with trees to a clearing atop a hill. The night sky was falling, and the first stars were just visible in the distance.
Sam got out and rooted through the trunk like he’d never left, like he and Dean were still just the two of them against the world. He pulled out a long, grey blanket. “Here we go,” he said, passing the blanket off to Jess, who spread it out on the ground.
Sam reached into his pocket and brought out a small, flat green tin.
“I knew it!” Dean muttered. “Stoner Sammy strikes again.”
“Pfft.” Sam shook his long hair out of his eyes. “Don’t start that up if you want any.”
“Sinner,” Dean teased. Sam rolled his eyes.
“So that’s why you couldn’t take a plane,” Castiel said, connecting the dots.
“Wouldn’t look too good if the TSA caught me with this,” Sam agreed. “Want some?”
“Yes,” Castiel said.
“Really?” Dean asked, surprised. Castiel shrugged.
“I haven’t had any since I was in college, but they were good memories,” Castiel said. “And I imagine you acquire yours from a trustworthy source?” Sam nodded.
“Jess has a weed card,” he explained. “So these come from a top-notch dispensary.” He grinned at Dean. “No oregano in here.”
“That was one time,” Dean protested. “Anyways, I thought you said you were going to share?”
The four sat in a loose circle on the blanket, and each got a few puffs on the joint before it went out, and Sam returned the roach to his little green tin. The sky had darkened, and the stars had come out, winking down at the brothers and their lovers.
Lying back on the blanket, Dean sighed happily, and Castiel snuggled up next to him. Dean threw his arm around Castiel’s shoulders and Castiel put a hand on his chest, absorbed in the rise and fall that accompanied Dean’s breaths.
“Did I ever tell you, Jess,” Dean said, “that Sammy played soccer?
Jess turned her face into Sam’s chest and giggled.
“I was twelve,” Sam said mildly. “Hey Cas,” he added, “bet Dean never told you he was on the wrestling team in high school.”
“Really,” Castiel said lazily. “For love of the sport, or was it just an excuse to cuddle?”
Jess and Sam erupted in laughter. Dean huffed.
“It’s a very competitive sport,” he told them. Jess and Sam laughed harder. “Plus, I’m not the one who ran away from home and adopted a dog.”
“What?” Sam asked hazily.
“That time we were in Flagstaff,” Dean prompted. “You holed up in a motel and we didn’t find you for two weeks?”
“Oh, yeah,” Sam said. “Bones. Bonesy. He was a good dog.”
“I nearly killed you,” Dean said.
“Yeah, well,” Sam retorted. “What about the time you ran off to CGBG?”
“I have not heard this story,” Jess said.
“Me and Dean convinced Dad to take us to New York, see the sights,” Sam explained. “Dean runs off to the toughest club in town, gets fall down drunk, and Dad has to pick him up off the barroom floor and take him home, tail between his legs.”
“Rebel,” Castiel whispered into Dean’s ear. Dean could feel Castiel’s smile on his skin.
“Sam was a mathlete,” Dean blurted out. Jess’s body shook with giggles, and then her breathing evened out. They all watched the stars in silence.
“’Member that time,” Sam said slowly, “when you got us fireworks?”
“I think we burned that field down,” Dean said dreamily. “Best fourth of July ever.”
“Good times,” Sam said.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Good times.”
They lay peacefully under the stars, until they all heard a growl.
“That was my stomach,” Sam said.
“Did we bring snacks?” Jess asked.
“Of course we brought snacks,” Sam said. “We just have to … get up.” Jess groaned.
“That’s our Sammy,” Dean said. “Always prepared.”
Sam and Jess managed to get to their feet.
“You guys hungry?” Sam asked. Dean shook his head. “Cas?”
“I’m good right here,” Cas said. Dean tightened his arm around Castiel.
Sam and Jess tripped over to the car and took up residence in the backseat, Sam retrieving the snacks he’d sneakily brought along.
“Bet they’re eating, like, carrot sticks and stuff,” Dean said to Castiel.
“Ugh,” Castiel said.
“What happened to, ‘we gotta be in top condition, Dean’?” Dean asked.
“I’m in the mood for something sweeter,” Castiel said.
“Like what?” Dean asked.
Castiel leaned over, draping himself over Dean’s chest.
“You,” Castiel breathed.
It wasn’t clear who closed the space between them as they kissed, slowly, lazily, deeply. Dean could hear the wind and Castiel’s breath and hushed conversation from the car, and he just relaxed into the kiss, his head spinning ever so slightly, his arms around the man he loved, and the stars shining bright overhead.
I know!!! It’s been a while!! I’m sorry! Here is a short, fluffy, schmoopy installment to tide you over. We’re almost there, folks!
“Dean,” Castiel’s voice buzzed through Dean’s headset. “Flight training is an integral part of—“
“I know, Cas,” Dean grunted back. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
So maybe Dean hadn’t taken the usual route to becoming an astronaut. Maybe he didn’t have years of experience flying planes. He was still the best damn aerospace engineer they had, and they were still sending him up there.
Which meant he had some catching up to do.
Dean tore off his helmet and seatbelt, struggling to get out of the confined cockpit. Two months on the flight simulator, in addition to completing his work on the Elektron 2, hadn’t left him a lot of time to spend with Cas. It had, however, given him plenty of time to freak out.
How was he supposed to go to space if he could hardly stand to fly a plane?
Castiel was waiting for him when he reached the ground. Dean smiled. Even when he was technically off duty, Castiel had still stuck around to spend time with Dean – and practice his Russian.
“Kak proshel tvoy polet?” Castiel asked him. How was your flight? Dean grinned. Damn that was sexy.
“Uh… eto… bylo… khorosha?” Dean said haltingly. It was… good?
“Khorosho,” Castiel corrected gently. Good. “You’re getting better, Dean.” Dean drew Castiel into a tight hug. Now that they were both going up to the ISS (in a few short weeks), and he wasn’t a threat to Castiel’s career, Naomi and Zachariah had backed off, and Dean didn’t feel self-conscious showing his boyfriend some affection.
“Ty gotov idti?” Castiel asked with a tilt of his head. Are you ready to go?
“Where?” Dean asked.
“To the gym, Dean,” Castiel told him, leaning in to rest his forehead against Dean’s. “Cardio, remember?”
“Ugh,” Dean groaned, shutting his eyes. “Can’t we go tomorrow?”
“No,” Castiel said. “Tomorrow morning I’m taking you to my Tai Chi class.” Dean made a face. “You said you would go,” Castiel reminded him. “It’s good for mental balance and clarity. Which we’re going to need—“
“In space, yeah, I get it Cas,” Dean said. He broke their hug to grab his bag. “Let’s go.”
Strength training, Dean had no problem with. Breaking a sweat in itself? No problem. Let him work on his car for a few hours, lugging around heavy machinery and hammering shit into place. Easy. But just… running… for no reason… not even to get anywhere…
It was nice, he supposed, to have Castiel working out next to him, all sweaty and flushed. But pounding the miles away on the treadmill left his mind so blank and empty, all he could think about was how boring this was, how much he wished he was doing something productive—
“Dean?”
Dean looked up, startled out of his thoughts. “Hm?”
Castiel had turned off his treadmill, and Dean powered his down too.
“You’re not enjoying this,” Castiel said. “I can tell.” Dean shook his head.
“No offense, angel,” Dean said, wiping sweat from his forehead, “but it’s boring. At least flight training is intense, and wandering around the bottom of a pool in full space gear is cool. But this…” he trailed off weakly, gesturing to the workout equipment under harsh fluorescent lights.
“We have to be in top condition, Dean,” Castiel reminded him. Dean sat down.
“I know,” Dean said. “It’s just… sometimes I wonder if I’m really cut out for this, y’know? Everything’s happening so fast, and there’s so much I don’t know. I’m not a pilot, I don’t speak Russian, I—“
Castiel sank to his knees in front of Dean and took his hands.
“You’re a rocket scientist.” Castiel lifted Dean’s face to meet his. “You’ve redesigned a complex oxygen generation system, and you’re going to go up to the International Space Station and install it. You can do this.”
“If you say so,” Dean muttered. Castiel stood up.
“Let’s get out of here,” Castiel said.
“Where to?” Dean asked, rising after him.
“You’ll see,” Castiel called over his shoulder.
They took Castiel’s Lincoln and drove, weaving through Houston traffic until they reached a quiet park.
“I thought a hike might be… nice,” Castiel finished lamely. Dean smiled and squeezed Castiel’s hand.
“You thought right.”
Forty minutes later, a little winded, they stopped to rest under a tree. From where they sat, they could see the park laid out before them, and the city beyond it.
“See?” Castiel asked, leaning into Dean’s shoulder. “That wasn’t so bad.” Dean smiled.
“I enjoyed the scenery.” Dean said. “Especially the part where you were walking in front of me.”
Castiel smiled and swatted Dean playfully, and Dean countered by pinning Castiel beneath him.
“Watch this,” Dean said. He hovered over Castiel, his weight on his hands, then lowered himself to just within kissing distance. He pressed a gentle kiss to Castiel’s lips, and rose again, noting with delight how Castiel’s mouth lifted a little to follow his.
A few dozen kiss push-ups later, Castiel rolled Dean over with a low growl.
“My turn,” he said.
A little while later, the two could be spotted, sweaty, covered in pine needles, making quick tracks to the car, holding hands all the while.
