𓆩⚝Fun in the Fort⚝𓆪
~Thank you so much for commissioning me, Anon! I had a lot of fun writing these two as the fluffy dorks that they are. Cas would so convince Dean to have fun when he's bored, so that's my idea behind this. Thank you again, and I hope you Enjoy!~
Lee: Dean
Ler: Castiel
Summary: While alone in the bunker, Cas gets in the mood for playful fun with his partner. Dean takes some convincing, though once they're in a comfy pillow fort, he can't complain. That is, until his angel decides to get playful...
Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!
“No way. Absolutely not.”
Dean huffed as he turned away from the angel, throwing a hand up to emphasize how not acceptable the idea was. “You know I don’t do that kiddie crap.”
“But the humans in the film seem so happy!”
Castiel pouted as he carried his phone towards Dean, pointing at the screen. He’d recently learned how effective that expression was when he wanted to get his way; on most days, Dean couldn’t seem to resist it. “Why are you so against the idea, anyway?”
Dean did his best to ignore that rather cute expression, steeling his resolve. He had a point to prove, damn it. “Because it’s dumb! I haven’t made a damn pillow fort since I was seven, and that was only ‘cuz Sammy wouldn’t stop crying.”
“Exactly,” the angel insisted, still following behind Dean. He was nothing if not determined. “Things have been calm, Dean. Why can’t we enjoy a moment together while Sam is away?”
While he would’ve loved to keep walking away during their “argument,” Dean had reached the end of the hallway. He still wasn’t fully used to the maze-like hallways within their relatively new home. Damn bunker and its stupidly confusing layout…
“Dean…” Cas murmured, coming up behind the hunter. As stubborn as Dean was being, there was always a way to win him over. He simply required the proper motivation.
Two gentle hands rested themselves upon Dean’s hips, pulling him back against the angel. The warmth of the holy man’s chest against Dean’s back immediately set off a flurry of joyful little butterflies in Dean’s stomach—ones that he refused to acknowledge.
“You son of a…” he grumbled, trailing off as those hands rubbed little circles into his hip divots. Why did Cas have to know him so well? “Fine, okay? Fine! Damn bird.”
With a triumphant little grin, Castiel pecked Dean on the cheek. The man could only sigh as Cas trotted off toward his bedroom, undoubtably going to sift through a massive pile of blankets that were awaiting them there. The angel knew he’d get Dean to cave, as he always did on matters like that.
Despite his protests, the idea did seem pretty nice to Dean. Sitting in a little blanket fort with Cas, snuggling up close to one another, all warm and private…
Okay, yeah. I can work with this.
—
“This fluffy blanket should be added to the interior,” Castiel mused, tying the corner of his current blanket onto the back of a chair. “It would make a nice addition to the main space. Right, Dean?”
Dean sighed and did as he was told, questioning when the “happy” aspect he was promised of the evening would arrive. They’d been building Cas’s ideal blanket fort for the past twenty minutes, and Dean’s back was starting to hurt.
“I think it looks good as-is, Cas. Nice supports, good walls, cushy floor… Do we really need anything else?”
Castiel frowned, looking down at the knot he’d finished tying. The fort did look rather nice, and he was proud of the point he’d managed to get in the center using the broom. Sure, he could make it even better with an extra twenty minutes or so, but he could feel Dean’s patience beginning to thin. The man never could wait when he was expecting something. “I suppose not. Did you make the popcorn?”
“Who do you think I am? Sammy? Of course I made the popcorn,” he scoffed, slipping in the usual jab at his nutritionally-minded brother. Sam wasn’t in the room to hear it, but it was the thought that counted. “What movie are we watching, anyway?”
“The Outsiders. Jody mentioned it when I called her last, and the misguided teenagers seem interesting.”
That was a surprising one. Dean’s brows raised as he watched Cas pop the CD into the player. The light from the TV lit up the fort they’d built around it, displaying a 60’s-esque title screen. “Huh. Never took you for a Macchio guy.”
And there was Cas’s confused little head-tilt, letting Dean know the name-drop had gone over his head. It was adorable, how the angel always had his thoughts on display. “A what?”
“He’s a guy in the movie, Ralph Macchio. Ya know, from— Ah, forget it. You’ll see.”
Once Castiel had settled down and Dean’s head was resting comfortably on his partner’s chest, they started the movie. It was pretty good, all things considered. Cas had a good number of questions about the slang used in the film, but it was kinda cute to Dean. He liked Cas’s curiosity surrounding the human world.
Then they got to the scene.
“Why would they do that?”
“Hmm?” Dean hummed, tilting his head up to meet the angel’s gaze. They were getting into the emotional section of the movie, so he hadn’t been expecting another question. “Do what? Smoke? Thought I told you—”
“No, the tickling. I thought you said it was annoying, stupid, and reserved for girly pillow fights,” Castiel quoted, doing his best Dean impression to further deliver his point. “Why would they wake him up with it?”
“Because it works,” he shrugged, popping a fluffy kernel into his mouth. That wasn’t the question he’d expected, but it was easy enough to answer. “Used to use it on Sam when he was little. Dad wanted us outside by a certain time, and I got tired of shaking ‘im every five minutes.”
Cas hummed at that, moving to give Dean’s scalp some gentle scratches. It was an unspoken rule between them: every answer warranted some payment. Dean’s favorite currency was often affection. “Okay.”
That was the ticket. Happy, contented noises left Dean’s mouth as he relaxed into the touch, allowing himself to feel a little mushy. Hunting his whole life, always on edge, never knowing when he’d bite the ultimate bullet—he’d earned some sappy affection, damn it.
As the minutes ticked on, Dean’s head began to loll against his partner’s chest. The head scratches were putting him to sleep, and he was too comfortable to fight it. The movie was about done, so he wasn’t too worried about more questions. He was so close to dozing off…
…until five strong fingers started gently prodding his side.
“Pfffh— hey! C-Cas?” Dean yelped, clumsily jolting away from the angel. He was groggy, so all he really accomplished was a flail.
Castiel simply smiled down at him, shrugging. “You were falling asleep. The film hasn’t ended yet.”
“That doesn’t mean you—” Dean stopped short, his voice catching in his throat. By his own logic, Cas was fully within reason to poke him. Damn it… “Whatever.”
The moment Dean allowed himself to relax again, however, Castiel’s evil fingers returned to his side, this time purposely squeezing. And it wasn’t just one, either; Cas gripped the poor man’s side, wiggling his fingers into the skin the same way he’d observed Sam doing it a few weeks prior.
“GYAHAhahad dahahmn ihit, Cahas!”
Dean couldn’t hold back the giggles that time. They spilled past his lips, much more high-pitched than he would’ve liked. His cheeks immediately began to burn with flustered embarrassment. “Quihihihit!”
“But it’s rather effective. You can’t sleep if you’re laughing, and I can feel your heart racing. You’re having fun.”
“Nohoho I’m nohohot, youhuhu bihihitch!”
Lie. Dean was, unfortunately, having fun. Castiel had been getting better at showing affection and having casual fun, but he rarely ever gave himself over to mischief like he had in that moment. It left Dean giddy and excited and, when paired with the tickling, completely at a loss. His brain reverted to factory settings: curse and avoid admitting to anything.
Castiel sighed, very aware of his human’s lies. He could always go digging around in Dean’s brain pan for the real truth, but that was unnecessary; he could easily tell that Dean was enjoying himself. Also, using his angelic abilities to force the truth out of his boyfriend might not have been the best move for keeping the man’s trust.
“You know I won’t judge you for your preferences, Dean. I was once naked and covered in bees, yet you still accepted me as your partner. It’s only fair that I extend that same courtesy.”
The memory of that specific mental image made Dean laugh a bit harder through his giggles, if only for a second. Even when he was being a prick, Cas found a way to be adorable.
“S-stihihill wihish I cohohould’a seheheen thahat ohohone,” Dean grinned, hoping the trip down memory lane would distract Cas enough for him to twist away. It was not, unfortunately, leaving Dean just as trapped as he was before.
“I wasn’t myself during that time. I don’t remember everything, but I do remember how displeased Meg was when she found me with the bees. She refused to come near me until they’d left. I had so much honey, but she wouldn’t try any.”
That thought got a snort out of the man. It was quick and punchy, though Castiel’s head whipped up when he heard it. Oh, god, no…
“That was a new sound. I’d like to hear it again, Dean.”
“Wh-whahat? Nohoho, youhu— SHHHIHIHIT! Y-YOUHUHU AHAHASSHOHOHOLE!”
Dean lost it as Castiel dug into the pudge beneath his navel, back arching against him. He writhed and kicked against that stupid trench coat, but he simply couldn’t escape from the angel’s strong hold. It made him feel both embarrassingly weak and comfortingly vulnerable. He…wasn’t quite sure how to process the two of those emotional cocktails blending together.
And, because of course he did, Cas got his wish.
“*snort* DAHAHAMN IHIHIT!” Dean cackled, his socked foot kicking at the floor. He felt so childish in that moment, cheeks burning hotter than they ever had before. It was awful, but also strangely freeing. “GEHEHET OHOHOFF!”
“But you always tell me to touch you when we’re alone,” Cas frowned, feigning confusion as he continued to torment that poor bit of pudge. Yes, he did get confused sometimes, but both of them knew exactly what he was doing in that moment.
“THAHAT’S DIHIHIFFEREHENT!”
There was still a way to up the fun for both of them. Wedging his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, Cas began nuzzling his stubble against the sensitive skin. He’d long since discovered the sensitivity of Dean’s neck; he was choosing that moment to exploit it.
Dean’s mind simply short-circuited, overwhelmed by all the sensations and emotions the playful moment had sparked within him. He flopped back against his angelic boyfriend, squirming fruitlessly as he succumbed to his fate.
“IHIHIHI— *snort* THIHIHIS SUHUHUCKS!”
How could one human man melt his heart so thoroughly? Cas felt his cheeks warm after that adorable statement, a buzzing sensation shooting through his chest. He was…giddy. It was a bit odd to feel such a uniquely human emotion after regaining his grace so long ago, but there it was. He was in love, and that love—as the humans said—had little butterflies swarming in his chest. It was nice.
His human had a limit, however, and Castiel could tell the man was reaching it. He begrudgingly stopped his tickling, switching to gentle massaging of Dean’s sides. That gesture was appreciated, though the poor hunter couldn’t stop giggling.
His partner could use some comfort, he decided. Leaning down, Castiel pressed loving little kisses to Dean’s forehead. Dean man tried to shove his head away, but that was quickly stopped by two strong hands around his wrists. All four hands were brought to rest over Dean’s heart, feeling it pound against them.
“Youhuhu… ahare the ahahabsoluhute worst bohoyfriend ehehever!” Dean huffed, wriggling around to bury his face in Cas’s chest. The angel was insufferably warm, and he wanted to hide his face. “Ihi hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” the angel grinned, pressing one last handful of kisses to the top of his head before pulling the man down to lie with him. The blanket fort was somehow still standing after their mischief, making for a perfect nap-spot.
Castiel pulled the man closer, cradling him against his chest. His heartrate was beginning to slow, and he could tell Dean was close to dozing off. It was slightly astonishing to Cas that his mere presence could put Dean so at ease. “I love you, Dean.”
“Whatever,” Dean huffed. He was rather worn-out after all the tickling, and a nap sounded heavenly. Setting aside his pride for a moment, he slumped, nuzzling his face against Cas’s chest. Warm, familiar, and comfy…
Damn it, the angel was gonna drive him soft before too long. His whole “badass playboy” reputation didn’t stand a chance around a being of such pure loyalty and unapologetic adoration. His heart belonged to Castiel, wholly and truly. “Love you too, birdie. Now shut up and let me sleep.”
“Whatever you say, Dean.”
