knottylovessabriel replied to your post “Thanks, @knottylovessabriel, @out-there-on-the-maroon, and...”
Also would it maybe be possible to maybe prompt some Team Free Love? Going to a shelter and adopting a dog together maybe? (if you just want to do my first promt that's ok too)
“I’m going to be sneezing all the time,” Dean grumbled.
Gabriel slipped his hand into Dean’s back pocket. “But honey, I promised to bribe you on a daily basis.”
Dean glared at him. There were so many dogs barking in the background.
“With sexual favours,” Gabriel clarified.
Dean rolled his eyes. “You always bribe with sexual favours.”
Gabriel stared at him dolefully, and clapped at hand to his heart. “Mon petit ami! Are you calling me predictable!”
“Don’t use your Latino wiles on me,” Dean grumbled.
Gabriel sighed noisily. Castiel looked back over his shoulder, with the expression he always wore when he wasn’t quite sure whether he was missing a joke.
“That was French,” he said, with a question mark hovering vaguely around the end of his sentence.
“French is from Latin,” said Dean, “right?”
Sam sighed noisily, and tugged at Castiel’s arm. “So, we want a big dog, okay? Don’t get distracted. Big dogs hardly ever get adopted which is totally unfair and on average they have milder temperaments anyway and we’re all physically strong enough to deal with training it out of any bad habits and we don’t have kids or small animals that could—“
Castiel slipped his arm back through Sam’s, because it was one of the casual things he did that made Dean blush furiously. “I’m not convinced that it should be a dog, Sam. Given how often we’re away unexpectedly, sometimes for days on end, an animal who is less emotionally dependent on the presence of its family—and who is less likely to bolt all of its food in one setting—“
“You guys go on,” ordered Gabriel loudly, plonking himself down on his butt in front of one cage containing a wiry-haired belligerent-looking terrier and her two puppies. “I’ve found our guy. But hey, argue as much as you like. Work out your sexual tension. This girl’s coming home with us, aren’t you, lass? You’re mine.”
“Hey,” said Dean, when Castiel and Sam turned on him with matching reproachful stares, “not on archangel duty. Not my fault.”
The terrier huddled into the farthest corner of her cage, standing over her babies, and glared at Gabriel’s fingers. Gabriel beamed besottedly.
“Look,” said Sam gently, “I get it, okay, Gabriel? I know when they’ve got babies with them it’s hard not to—“
Castiel tugged at Sam’s sleeve.
“… not a cat, Cas,” said Sam with a sigh. “Dean’s allergic, remember? we’ve talked about this.”
“But Sam,” said Castiel earnestly, patting back at the curious grey paw stretching through the bar to bat at his finger, “he has Dean’s eyes.”
“… no. No, it has a cat’s eyes.”
Castiel made a rude noise. Sam looked appalled at him, while snickering.
Gabriel crooned to the cautious terrier.
Dean sighed even more loudly.
“… Oh my—guys,” whispered Sam, with indescribable reverence. “This poor old guy right here, he—“
He was an ageing golden retriever crossed with something big, maybe some kind of shepherd or mountain dog, but his eyes were meltingly soft and pleading, and his tail thumped on the floor, and his muzzle was grey, and the way he smiled and ducked his muzzle turned Sam’s face into goo.
Dean sighed loudly, and turned away from what he’d been looking at.
“Okay, fine,” he said. “Go on. The big old dog, that’s what you want? Let’s get it. Fine.”
Castiel’s face fell. Sam looked worried, but hopeful.
Gabriel shot to his feet, stuck his hands in his pockets, and laughed.
“Uh-uh, big boy. What Sam wants? Only rules one night in four.
“Gabriel,” hissed Sam, shooting a mortified look in the direction of the shelter volunteers.
Gabriel waved him silent. “See, bucko, the reason this works? We’re all a damned mess, right? but we all make space for all the fuck-ups that each of the others are. And one thing we ain’t lacking in the bunker? Space. And one thing all these animals want? Family. You too. If I’m not mistaken, and I never am.”
“Oh,” said Castiel quietly; and he put his hand back through the bars to rub them against the muzzle of the lonely grey cat.
“Uh,” said Sam. ‘You suggesting that we adopt them all?”
Gabriel smirked. “Don’t pretend to argue, Sassy.”
Sam stared longingly at the rows of cages. “Dean’s allergic.”
They all turned to look at him.
He was sitting on the ground. He had five orphaned kittens crawling in and out of his shirt.
“I, uh,” he said. “There’s, uh—medication? And also, y’know. Uh. Angels.”
A kitten climbed up his shoulder and did its best to murder his hair. Dean captured her very carefully, and relocated her to his lap, where she redirected her efforts toward his boot.
“Also,” said Sam brightly, after a moment of dead silence, “the more pets we have the more able they are to look after each other while we’re away? Emotionally, I mean. Y’know. Family. And all that.”
Castiel patted his arm. “That is an excellent idea.”
Dean blushed, and grinned at the kitten trying to claw his knee open.
Gabriel just smirked at puppies and declared loudly that every guy in his life was a total pushover and he’d known it all along.