she could tolerate the warped, water-soaked door frame at first, but they have a child now, and her husband still won't talk about the tattoo on his chest, or the nightmares, or his dead brother that she let him name their son after.
she wonders what life could have been like if they met when they were both younger- could she cure him of whatever sickness he has going on? he refuses to see any sort of psychiatrist, said with an aching laugh that there was nothing anyone could do for him, and sometimes, she thinks maybe he's right and there isn't anything off at all.
and then he'll mutter in his sleep a language she's never heard before with tones she couldn't recreate if she tried.
but he loves their son. and that might be enough for her to drop the anti-psychotics talk and the fact that their house has always smelled like salt water.
Dean is trying to give Miracle a bath, except somehow Miracle manages to dodge the bathtub and splash all its containing water on poor Dean. Of course, Cas is not helping 😌
(Also, it might or might not be Cas's grace inside a vial, around Dean's neck 👀)
And Dean doesn't know what to make of the tone in the voice calling out for him.
"In the kitchen, Cas." He calls back, keeping an eye on the tomato sauce he was in the middle of making.
He hears Castiel entering the room, "you okay?" He asks, without turning around.
"I turned on my phone." And that something is still there, in his tone, something quiet and fragile, he sounds a bit choked up.
"Okay." Dean replies, slowly, wondering where this is going. "Something happened to it? We can get you a new one."
"You texted me."
Dean decides the tomato sauce can burn for all he cares, his grip on the wooden spoon he was using to stir it tightens.
"He doesn't quite know what he is feeling, it's not shame, he thinks, he just had forgotten about those texts. It feels a bit silly now.
He clears his throat, still not turning around, "I guess I did, yeah."
is this you?
The text says.
Then a picture of a small bird, a colorful starling, staring right at the camera. Head slightly tilted to the left.
"That guy over there landed on my hood, and it was staring at me, in that unnerving way," like it was trying to tell him something, Dean was desperate, like it knew him, Dean felt so lost," it wouldn't leave, guess it was tired or something." He shrugs. "It's pretty fucking stupid, I know." The bird ended up leaving, joining the flock waiting for him up in the sky, leaving Dean behind, staring at him until his eyes couldn't find him anymore among the other birds heading south.
There is another text, from that very same day, sent just a couple hours later.
i miss you.
He never texted Cas again, after that, didn't make any sense, it took him a bit longer to stop praying to him. Even if he knew his prayers could never reach him where he was, that darkness would have never allowed the tiniest spark of light to reach its twisted insides.
Strong arms wrap themselves around his waist, and he can feel Castiel's forehead pressed against his shoulderblade. It's tentative, the way he moves, like he thinks Dean will tell him to step back, he is testing the unknown waters they are navigating together now.
"Dean."
"It's fine Cas, really."
He gets some sauce in the spoon, lifting it over his shoulder, "here, try this." And Castiel does, humming thoughtfully, allowing Dean to distract him from the matter in hands.
"It's really good." He says, resuming his previous position, leaving Dean to quietly turn off the stove and put a lid over the sauce.
Dean turns around, putting his own arms around Cas, who rests his head on his shoulder.
"I would have found a way to see you once again if I had been able, I hope you know that."
Dean nods before realizing Castiel can't actually see them, he has to talk, through this heavy lump in his throat, "I know." He hushes.
Dean decides then that, as impractical as it might could be, he would very much like to stay right here, holding Cas close. He rests his cheek on the top of his head and he has never been hugged like this, for so long, so tenderly. Cas hasn't either, Dean doesn't need to ask to know, and that makes him hold on even more tightly.
Dean can't help but smile dopily at the way Cas sways them side to side, from time to time, as they stand there, intertwined, in the middle of the kitchen.
"Dean?" His tone is lighter now, like he can breathe again.
"Yeah?"
"Did it really remind you of me because of its unnerving staring?" There is no heat or offense behind his words so Dean laughs lightly.
"No, of course not, maybe just a little bit."
It was the color of its feathers, actually, because he pictured Castiel's wings when he saw them.
He doesn't say it out loud.
He can't, there are many things he can't say yet, he isn't ready yet. But Castiel understands, Castiel would wait a thousand years for him if it was necessary.
Not only in that bird did he see Cas. He saw him in the most beautiful sunsets, in the brightest stars.
He doesn't say it out loud.
He moves back a little instead, making Castiel move with him, but now allowing him to move back any further, keeping them tangles in this neverending embrace, he leans in, questioningly, Castiel crosses the distance that is left between them, kissing him.
dean and sam agreed almost immediately after the dust settled that, having seen so many horrors in what was meant to be their "home," they wanted to clear the fuck out of that bunker and never see the inside of it again. it was hard enough for dean to walk inside now, even with castiel back topside, but it paled in comparison to how awful it had been when cas disappeared, taken by the empty.
he couldn't eat or sleep. he couldn't drag himself from the spot where cas had shoved him to the floor before he and billie disappeared, presumably forever, for hours. his phone was buzzing off the hook with frantic messages and calls from sam. he couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears, replaying castiel's words in his head over and over and over.
"i love you."
he'd wished so badly he'd said it back. it should've been so simple. castiel had been saying it for years.
"my superiors have begun to question my sympathies...i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you."
"i'm hunted, i rebelled, and i did it, all of it, for you."
"i do everything that you ask. i always come when you call, and i am your friend."
"i'll go with you, and do my best."
"everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me."
"I could go with you."
"i heard your prayer."
"you are the most selfless, loving human being i will ever know."
"i love you."
but dean had said it too. he knew he had.
"don't ever change."
"don't make me lose you too."
"a part of me always believed that you'd come back."
"i'd rather have you, cursed or not."
"let me bottom line it for you, i'm not leaving here without you. understand?"
"i need you."
"It's good to have you back, cas."
"i should've stopped you, you're my best friend, but i just let you go cause it was easier than admitting i was wrong."
"i forgive you, of course, i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long. I'm sorry it took me till now to say it."
it still didn't change that dean hadn't managed to get those three stupid words out when it counted; and so instead he watched the one truly good thing that had ever happened to him get swallowed up and vanish into black nothingness. he knew this time was different. the thought made his stomach churn. cas was gone gone.
until he wasn't.
realistically, there was no way jack could restore the entire universe and not bring back his father. according to him, he could take a more hands-off approach when his family was safe and reunited. the kid was a friggin' walking miracle, dean would certainly give him that. even if he hadn't been able to bring back cas, he knew jack had his father's heart, and that meant a great deal to dean. he wouldn't make the same mistakes with jack that he'd made before. he'd love the kid the way he should've from the start, because any small part of his best friend was something he intended to love until his heart gave out. jack would make a great god, and he would never go without the support of the winchesters for as long as dean could help it.
after everything, jack was also happy to learn that the winchesters were leaving the bunker. the good memories simply couldn't hold their weight against the bad and he told the winchesters that he'd come visit them in their new place from time to time.
the only reason dean even set foot in the bunker after was to grab as much of his shit to move out in as few trips as possible. he refused to let cas back in, going so far as to ward the bunker against him.
he'd done an admirable job so far of keeping it together since cas came back. he was proud of himself for that. sure, dean's eyes got a little misty when he first saw him again, and if castiel wasn't an angel, dean likely would've crushed his ribs with how tightly he hugged him, and held him, for several long minutes. he'd bit back a sob, unable to fight the way his body trembled touching him. he was real. he was solid. this was cas, and cas was here and so alive that dean could explode.
they hadn't addressed the elephant in the room. dean just hadn't been able to get his thoughts together yet. he wasn't sure he could get more than two words into that talk with cas before he lost it. he needed to get his shit together and fast, though, because dean wasn't sure how much longer he could go on living without castiel knowing how he felt.
when cas arrived to help dean move out and realized the door was warded, initially, he thought it was a mistake. he rang him on what would soon be dean's only phone.
"dean, the door to the bunker is warded. can you come up and let me in?"
dean took the stairs two at a time, which proved challenging. he'd had to damn near chug two beers before his hands stopped shaking enough to pack up the last of his meager belongings in a few cardboard boxes. he opened the door, finding cas there smiling, the sun creating a halo around his black hair.
dean’s wrist was wrapped in gauze, a red patch evident through the beige-colored bandage.
immediately, cas' guard was up, unintentionally flexing his wings at the sight of dean so distraught. dean's heart jumped in his chest, recognizing the gesture, the flash of white-hot energy behind that piercing gaze.
dean had that haunted, distantly sad look in his eyes that castiel loathed to see. his freckled cheeks were splotchy and his nose was a little pink. he looked older in this lighting, so human, and yet still as beautiful as the moment they'd first touched in hell, perhaps even more now.
"dean, what—"
"i warded it, cas. just got done actually."
"dean, why would you—"
dean's face contorts in pain. his words were hardly a choked whisper. "you were dead." and suddenly, the levee breaks.
he collapsed into castiel's arms with an honest-to-god wail. in all his hundreds of millions of years of life, it was one of the most bloodcurdling sounds he's ever heard. he'd heard cataclysmic asteroids collide with the earth and wipe out all manner of creatures. he'd heard the scraping of tectonic plates. he'd heard the explosions of vesuvius and krakatoa. he'd heard the screams of the damned and the sound of angels dying.
and he never wished to hear a sound like that from dean winchester again.
"dean, let's get you inside. get you some water and we can talk, okay?" he said soothingly, but instead dean shoved him away from the door.
"no," dean nearly shouted, another tear streaking down his face as his jaw clenched. he scrubbed at his cheek with his palm to wipe the sticky wetness of his tears away.
"dean," cas said again, begging for an explanation for this sudden and drastic change in behavior.
"you are not ever setting foot in this place again, cas. i mean it." he was visibly shaking, and his words left little room for argument, but even so, dean knew cas would.
"this is ridiculous. we can get your belongings out in half the time if you let me help. sam and eileen are expecting us in an hour."
dean's hand comes to rest on the pistol in his pocket. "so help me god, castiel, i will shoot you if you try to get through that door."
castiel's eyes widened, his brows quickly furrowing together.
castiel calls his bluff. "dean."
dean's shoulders sag and his eyes water again.
"i'm sorry, cas i—i can't let you back in here. i watched you die here. i—" he croaks. he breathes out shakily, clenching and unclenching his fists.
"oh, dean," he closed the gap between them, resting his hand on dean's shoulder. if he focused, he could still feel the residual energy from when he had marked dean that first day in hell. "billie is gone. the empty is at rest. chuck is gone. we're safe. i'm safe. i promise."
dean pulled him in then, hugging him fiercely. he cried, loud and ugly. he cried every tear he'd probably been holding in since he was a kid. cried until his throat ached. he should've just let cas in—he really wanted that glass of water now, even if the bunker tap tasted a little mildewy sometimes.
castiel was right. cas was safe now. they were safe now. but they weren't always, and those memories would linger with dean, likely forever.
"cas, you were dead. you died, right—" dean hiccuped around a sob, burying his face in the crook of his neck and gripping castiel's body as if he thought he might turn to dust and float away. "you died right in front of me, man."
"i know," cas murmured, lowering himself and dean to the damp ground into a seated position. "but i'm here now, dean. and for as long as you'll have me, i will always be by your side."
"i can't believe you just—i can't believe you left me like that. you told me you . . ." dean trailed off mid-sentence and sniffled wetly, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket.
"that i love you," castiel finished for him, pulling dean tighter to his chest, feeling his frantic heartbeat thump against his ribcage.
dean never thought he'd hear those words again. they sounded like music coming from castiel's gravelly voice, better than any aria or orchestra or any zeppelin song. castiel loved him.
dean was afraid his heart would burst out of his chest like one of those xenomorphs from the alien movies, except instead of terrorizing sigourney weaver, it would just jump right into castiel's waiting palm, where it belonged. his heart had long since belonged to castiel anyway.
dean nodded, not daring to lift his head to face castiel. he knew castiel never just said anything. castiel didn't even need to say it. and maybe that's what terrified dean so much. he knew castiel meant every word he said from the bottom of his heart, knew that castiel had loved him long before he said it. he and dean were tethered to each other in a cosmic sense, a more deeply profound connection than he would ever even be able to comprehend as a human.
"dean i do share a more profound bond." he'd only known cas a couple of years then. it didn't make sense at the time to him, and dean certainly wasn't in the place to really evaluate what that could mean, a profound bond.
but castiel was right, as he often was when it came to dean. from the moment they met, cas could read dean like an open book. as an angel, dean supposed he kind of could. castiel had seen his soul, had painstakingly hand-stitched it back together. and it was terrifying, remembering that it was castiel who rebuilt him from scratch in hell. cas, who had died bloody for dean so many times before. cas, who forgave dean for the most unforgivable acts. cas, who he loved more than he'd ever believed himself capable of, and yet he knew that, for every day of the rest of his life, he would spend every second finding a way to love him ever more.
"and what . . ." cas pondered his word choice. "what are your thoughts? how does it feel, knowing that i love you?"
dean could hear the nervousness in his voice. he could feel it in how tightly castiel gripped him, as if he too felt dean would somehow slip away if he let go. dean knew all too intimately the feeling. he feared he would never get enough of castiel's touch, and loathed himself for every minute he'd wasted not touching him, platonically, jokingly, romantically, intimately, sensually, sexually, lovingly, reverently.
he lifted his head then, staring at castiel, finding his angel's eyes swarming with tears. his eyes were so beautiful, dean thought. they always had been to him. he knew these eyes had technically been jimmy novak's, but that blue glow that emanated from within his vessel was all castiel, his stories-tall celestial body, big as the goddamn empire state building, contained in human form.
that massive, eldritch monster adored him, loved him so deeply that he broke chuck's story. he could burn dean's eyes out at the mere sight of his form, make his ears bleed with his true voice, and he loved dean winchester. he was terrifying. he was beautiful. dean could only describe castiel's beauty as devastating, both its presence and its absence so much more.
dean could feel the squelchy ground beneath him soaking into his jeans, but he didn't care. he stared at castiel, the pair of them unable to tear their watery eyes away for even a moment. cas had hardly been gone a week when he died, but dean wasn't sure he could even blink without missing the sight of him now. too much wasted time.
"i should've said it back. i should've said it then and so many times before. i should've said it the first moment that i met you. i should've told you when i told you not to ever change. i should've told you so many times when i told you i needed you, because i did, and i do, and i have since you raised me from hell and i will until i stop breathing, cas. i should've told you every time i got you back. i should've told you a thousand times over that—" his breath hitched. "that i love you. because i love you so much more than i can even say. you know i'm not good with words, but cas, i love you so much that it hurts. it hurts to be with you, and it hurts so much worse to be apart. it's hard carrying around the sheer weight of my love for you, man." he swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry.
castiel's cheeks were wet with tears now too. and fuck, that was the last thing he'd wanted to make cas do.
he continued, "i'm human. i'm so far from perfect. i'm going to fuck up like i have so many times before, but . . . but i'm going to spend every second i have here trying to make it up to you by loving you, by making myself worthy of your love, because cas, i can't live without you. every time i had to burn and bury you, it was like a part of me was dying right there with you. it's like i lose all sense of control or drive to even keep going. i've loved you for longer than i've probably even known. i've loved you even when i shouldn't have. i've loved you with everything i am, and i've still loved you less than you've deserved. you are, without a shadow of a doubt, the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me."
castiel smiled warmly, the crows feet at the corners of his bright eyes releasing the tears previously held at bay.
"i never knew love before i met you, dean," he began. "i worshipped god like a dutiful soldier. i fought alongside my brothers. but i have never loved anyone or anything like i have loved you. i have loved you in secrecy. i have loved you despite everyone and everything i'd ever known telling me not to. i have loved you despite being controlled by naomi, or possessed by the leviathans, and i have even loved you as you turned me away. i have loved you so loudly that the heavens and hell and everywhere in between knew that i would forever only exist to love and protect you. there is not a thing i would not do for you, not a place i would not go for you, no one or thing i would not kill, no evil i would not give everything i had in me to conquer for you. i have been terrified of my love for you. i don't think i ever truly knew fear before i feared losing you, and in turn i never knew loss before the first time i lost you. you cannot possibly understand the depths of my love for you, dean winchester. my heart is as much yours as your own soul, and i will follow you forever, to heaven, to hell, to purgatory. i will follow you until the end of time. i will you until there are no tomorrows. i love you."
they sat in silence for a long moment, the words just beginning to seep into both of their brains. it's dean who breaks the silence first.
"i wish you would've told me before you died," dean said selfishly.
"and i wish you would've told me instead of letting me leave," castiel countered with a hint of a smile, and if anyone else had dared say something like that to dean, they'd have been damn near fighting words, but it was castiel, who was alive and breathing and loved dean so much, so dean just grinned stupidly.
"touché," dean conceded. "but i'm still not letting you back in the bunker. i mean it. i've only got two more boxes anyway, and i already went through your room when . . . um," he paused, clearing his throat, unwilling to even say the words again. "there wasn't a whole lot, but it's all in baby's trunk."
castiel, touched, doesn't even have the heart to put up a fight. "okay, dean. i'll wait in there and ride back with you. let me know if i can do anything to help."
"yeah, man. i'll just be a couple minutes," dean said over his shoulder as he trudged down the steps and out of sight.
castiel fished the spare set of keys dean had made for him out of his pocket, unlocking baby's trunk and finding a medium-sized cardboard boxed labeled 'CAS.' castiel recognized dean's handwriting and grinned.
opening it, he found a couple of nondescript clothing items dean had likely stashed in cas' room from his own wardrobe so he'd have a change of clothes sometimes. on top of those, however, were an angel blade and a handful of pictures of cas over the last ten years that dean had collected. some he recognized, but some of them castiel didn't even realize had ever been taken. some were blurry, likely due to poor camera quality on one of the burners, but others were clear. they were recent. did dean take all of these?
mixed in with a couple of framed photos was one last item. cas felt a lump in his throat when he realized what it was.
scribbled against the flat side and faded from frequent use was 'dean's top 13 zepp traxx.' he didn't realize he'd started crying again until a tear landed on his jacket sleeve.
"it's a gift. you keep those." cas could still hear dean's voice saying the words now. he remembered his surprise. he'd been almost certain the tape was a loan, and when they were on the outs, as they so often had been in the past couple of years, cas couldn't fathom making himself more of a nuisance to dean. but no, even though dean had been pissed with him, he wanted him to have this. cas wondered where dean had found it, as he was almost certain he'd had it on him the night the empty took him, but he was happy to see it nonetheless.
cas gently placed the tape back in his jacket pocket before closing the box and the trunk. he walked over, caressing the handle of the car he'd ridden in at least a hundred times. it had been uncomfortable the first handful of times, sitting in a moving metal box going so much slower than he could if he were to fly. over time though, castiel grew to enjoy riding in the car, but only with dean, and only in dean's car. he was gentle with baby when he opened the passenger seat, the familiar scent of worn leather and sage and gun smoke hitting him like a punch in the gut. cas would never tire of the smell.
dean, true to his word, only took another minute or so before he plopped the last box into baby's backseat, climbing into the driver's seat and turning to cas as soon as the door swung shut. he stares for a moment, taking in the details of castiel's face as if memorizing them. his lips finally curved upward, revealing his beautiful smile.
"you ready to get back home?" dean asked.
"i am home, dean."
dean chuckled. "nah, cas. this place ain't home anymore. i'm not sure it ever really was."
cas shook his head. "no, i . . . i don't mean the bunker, dean. i mean you. you are home. i will always be home when i'm with you."
dean doesn't respond, but his smile grows softer, fonder, if that was even possible. his hand reaches down into the valley between them, coming to rest gently atop castiel's. at first, he jumps at the contact, but when he realizes what dean is doing, he turns his palm upward, allowing dean's fingers to thread through his. he squeezes castiel's hand.
"you asked, what about this is all real? we are." dean understands what cas meant now. after everything they'd been through to get to where they are now, he finally understood.
they drove home in relative quiet. there was nothing that'd been left unsaid. dean quietly hums along to the radio, playing the mixtape. when cas had passed it to dean to throw on the tape deck, he watched dean's eyes grow glassy as he read it.
"i just about lost it when i found this in the hall, after you . . . yeah. fuck, i couldn't bring myself to go back to your room . . . so i kept it on me," dean said, patting his chest pocket.
"thank you for keeping it safe for me," cas said sincerely.
dean couldn't speak after that if he wanted to, his heart lodged in his throat. he smiled and nodded, turning to face the road while blinking rapidly to push back tears. he and cas had cried enough tears today. things were good now. things were okay.
things only got better from there.
life for the winchesters had never been easy, so adjusting to the idea that they could both find peace with people they loved was difficult. dean commended eileen's stubbornness in deciding she wanted to put up with sam forever. dean knew he owed castiel a damn parade float to thank him for choosing to put up with him forever. the two brothers and their partners moved into a modest but spacious house in the blue ridge mountains. dean was certain he'd had enough of kansas to last several lifetimes.
castiel enjoyed watching the sunrises and sunsets from their screened porch, often enjoying a cup of coffee while he rocked in a chair he'd picked himself from a local thrift store. dean loved a pretty sky as much as the next guy, but he often found himself watching as castiel stared straight into the sun, watching it rise or fall over the crest of a mountain. cas was a better view anyway.
considering they had mostly left hunting behind, dean had tried to pick up a few new hobbies. he really enjoyed drawing, especially drawing cas. he had also found an old harmonica when they moved in. after checking in all the ways dean and sam knew how, and determining it was neither haunted nor cursed, dean had shrugged and pocketed the tiny instrument.
he'd mostly only played it at first when he knew sam wasn't around to make fun of him. cas on the other hand, dean had largely accepted that he would never judge a thing dean did, even if it sounded like cats squalling, which it sort of did for a little while. but dean was a quick learner, and cas loved the way dean's eyes would light up as he worked through whatever he was trying to learn.
it took him longer than he'd care to admit, but after some practice, dean had finally learned how to play the harmonica theme from once upon a time in the west, which he played often when sam stepped out on the porch. he would give dean an unimpressed look, roll his eyes, and inevitably cave in, smiling at the sight of his brother beside the love of his life, finally happy, something he could've sworn he'd never see even just a few short months before.
after one long rainy day, once the skies had cleared, dean and cas curled up together on the porch, swinging in the hammock dean had just finished putting up the day before. they sat sideways so dean could fiddle around with his latest fixation, and cas could watch the sunset as it peeked between the remaining clouds and over the blue-tinged peaks of the mountains. they had the house to themselves for the weekend as sam and eileen had decided to take a trip to the beach, something sam had never really been able to do before since the world had constantly been on the brink of ending, pretty much since he was born.
the air was thick with humidity, something dean still hadn't quite gotten used to, and the crickets, frogs, and birds chirped loudly around them. his hair had gotten a little unruly; he'd need castiel to help him shape it up later, but for now, it clung to the back of his clammy neck in the evening carolina heat. his stomach ached from overindulging on some sort of honey garlic chicken cas had made for them with his hand-collected honey. cas had his arm slung over dean's shoulder, holding him tightly against his side as he talked animatedly and endlessly about the history of the mountain range and how he'd been there as they formed. dean could listen to cas talk forever.
Summary: Dean surprised Sam with a little project.
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Warnings: Domestic Fluff and Nonsense
WC: 620
A/N: Inspired by a line in Reinforcements.
Domestic Drabbles
Instead, he gazed at the older vehicle, situated off to the side where the heavy equipment was housed. Dean had been working to fix it up, Sam spending time with him as his older brother rattled off about the vehicle and parts and quizzed him to ensure he was paying attention.
–
Sam entered the garage, having arrived there by following the loud sounds of rock music and banging metal tools. He had been looking for his brother, promising him earlier in the day that he’d come to see whatever surprise Dean said he’d gotten.
Sam climbed the few short steps into the garage, the loud sounds from within nearly deafening. He covered his ears and squinted as he walked across the concrete floor to the blasting radio. The sudden decline in volume had Dean turning, and his furrowed brow eased as a grin took over his face, greeting his little brother.
“There you are!” Dean chimed, setting aside his tools and wiping his hands with an already-soiled shop rag.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Sam responded, tucking his hands into his jeans pockets. “So, what’s the surprise?”
Dean’s grin grew, if possible, as he removed the sheet covering the surprise - a junk heap of a car, or at least what was once a car.
“You were so into the modern POS you had, so I got you the real deal,” Dean proudly pronounced. “I’m gonna teach you how to build her from the ground up, and she’ll be all yours.”
“You got me a Charger?”
“Yes. I got a 1967 Dodge Charger, Sam. Not some crappy modern tech. A real car. Like my Baby,” he smirked.
Sam couldn’t stop the small chuckle that broke forth. He never really needed his own car, except when hunting without his brother. Now that they were practically retired, they weren’t apart very often. When they were, Sam usually used the old truck in the garage. But the fact that Dean not only got him a classic car but was using it as something they could do together made him almost giddy.
“Here,” Dean tossed a pair of coveralls to Sam, who quickly caught them. “Throw those on.”
“We’re starting now?” Sam questioned, though he still pulled on the coveralls. “From scratch?”
“How else are you gonna learn?” Dean scoffed, turning his back to his brother as he sorted through his tools on the tabletop. “M’not going to be around forever, you know? You gotta learn this stuff sometime.”
Sam was glad Dean had his back turned so he couldn’t see Sam's sour look over his choice of words. He didn’t like to think about his brother not being around; he’d experienced it enough, thank you. He didn’t need the reminder that any day could be the last, even in a ‘normal’ life.
Working on the car became something they did almost daily for a few hours when they weren’t busy with other things. Each day, Dean would quiz Sam on things they’d gone over before and teach him new information. Slowly, the car looked more like a car, not a heap of junk. Sam knew Dean was good at cars. He’d built Baby from the ground up a few times. But he realized Dean was good enough to go professional if he wanted.
When Dean barked at him to see if he was paying attention, Sam smirked and tucked his thoughts away to discuss with Dean later. He had faith in his big brother, and now that they were living a ‘normal’ life, Sam believed they could pursue interests and build roots. He hoped Dean would feel the same. For now, they had each other and time and a new car to add to their collection.
As soon as he was done chopping the head off of the last vampire, Dean knew what he needed to do.
He and his brother had just obliterated a nest of 15 vampires but it hadn't been easy. He had narrowly avoided getting shoved into a piece of rebar sticking out of a support beam in the seedy and dilapidated barn. Something that would've been fatal.
Dropping Sam back at the Bunker, Dean pointed the Impala northeast. It would take him eight hours but he needed to go, he needed her.
Never in his life had he felt this way, this pull to another person. Even with Lisa, he’d never felt this way; the need, the want, the desire to be in their presence.
But Donna wasn't Lisa. No, Donna knew the intricate parts of his life, his job. She knew that no news was good news so he didn't feel obliged to give her a call to update her all the time.
Not like with Lisa. Lisa always wanted to know his every location, his every move. Yes, she knew about his job seeing as Dean is the one that saved her son from the Changeling that was terrorizing her town but the constant checking in and her incessant need to know every detail of his days. It was overwhelming and made her unattractive.
It killed their relationship before it really began.
But Donna wasn't like that. She understood the life. Probably better than anyone ever had. Except Sam.
Dean didn't even bother calling Donna to tell her he was heading her way, he didn't have to. Their arrangement wasn't like that.
She hadn't alerted him before she showed up at the Bunker three months ago. Didn't mean he wasn'ts exhilarated to see her. And he proved it when Sam went out for some hippy-dippy show across town.
He'd fucked her on almost every surface in the underground shelter in appreciation.
He knows when he doesn't see her vehicle in the driveway that she's still at work. That's okay though; Donna had given him a key to the door.
So after parking Baby in the garage, he grabs his duffel, hoping there's at least one clean set of clothes in there because, honestly, he doesn't remember the last time he changed it out.
He gets in with no problem and heads straight to the shower. He's dirty, sweaty and stinky.
He is standing under the shower, reveling in the fantastic water pressure when something catches his attention. A sound that he can't quite decipher.
But then the curtain is ripped open and he smiles at what he sees. Donna fucking Hanscum stands in front of the hunter, completely nude with a blinding smile on her face.
“Hey-a! This is a great surprise,” she says as she steps into the stall with Dean, her hand rubbing up his arm, across his shoulder and cups the side of his head.
“Wanted to come see my girl,” Dean says as he leans into her touch.
Donna's legs are wrapped around his hips and her back is pressed into the shower wall as he rails into her, his dick spearing her cervix. Her moans are music to his ears.
Neither of them pay any mind that the water has turned frigid, the heat from both of their bodies keeping the lovers warm.
Dean can feel his end approaching but he staves it off because he can feel that Donna is right there: right on the precipice of one of the best orgasms of her life.
He slips a hand between them and starts rubbing her bud.
“Come on D,” he murmurs. “Let go. You're right there baby. That tight pussy is squeezing me so hard. Cum for me.”
He leans back and watches as the blonde’s eyes roll back and her body tenses. Then he feels it. Her warm juices coat his cock and splash against his groin.
Donna goes limp but Dean is ready for it, he knew she would lose all cognition after a climax that strong; he holds her tight, slowing his thrusts until she regain consciousness.
As soon as her blue eyes open, he smiles. “There's my pretty girl. You okay?”
“Oophta. I think I died,” Donna says with a giggle.
“Nah, sweetheart you just squirted,” Dean explains. “Was that your first time?”
“You betcha. It was……awesome!”
Dean smiles and kisses her lips. “Let's see if I can get you to do it again.”
He begins pounding into her willing body again, his fingers massaging and gently squeezing her quivering clit.
Unfortunately Dean meets his end before he can accomplish what he sat out to do but only because Donna starts whispering complete filth in his ear and he can't hold it in.
“Come on, Dean give me all that cock. God it feels good to be stretched around your dick.”
“Fucking my brains out takes on a whole new meaning when Dean Winchester is inside you. Fill me up baby. Shoot all that cum deep inside my cunt.”
“Maybe later we could play around with some of my toys? Oh you like that? Umph! Wanna fuck me with my pink dildo?”
“Oh god Dean! Please fill me up!”
Dean thrusts in to the hilt as he feels his cum explode from his body and floods Donna's pussy.
They laugh together as they both clean up in water that feels like it was piped in straight from Antarctica.
Once out of the shower, they dry off and both fall into bed completely nude and go to sleep.
The next morning Donna wakes to an empty bed. Or so she thought until she feels Dean's tongue flicking her clit.
“Good morning to me!” she exclaims as she looks down to see a tuft of spiky brown hair between her thighs.
Dean hums against her then sucks the nub into his lips.
Donna reaches down and spreads her labia to give him better access to her most intimate area.
Dean takes his right hand from her thigh and inserts a finger as he continues lavishing her clit with the most sinful attention
Hearing her moans and gasps spurs Dean on and he quickly adds another digit to the mix; scissoring her open until he could add a third.
Donna is vibrating from his ministrations, her body shuddering from the pleasure.
“Fuck!” Dean exclaims, taking his mouth off of her and looking down. “I've got my whole damn fist in your pussy Don! God damn! That's hot.”
Donna whimpers but doesn't say anything as she begins undulating her hips.
“You want me to fuck you with my fist? See if I can get my arm in there?”
“Umhmm,” Donna moans, her bottom lip trapped by her teeth.
Dean begins pumping his wrist and flexing his fingers and goes back to nibbling on the soppy cunt in front of him.
He had never met anyone that would even consider this. He didn't think it was possible but as he uncurls his fingers and plays with Donna's inside walls, he was glad that it's Donna who allowed it.
She was a friend, a colleague, an ally.
His dick strains against the mattress as he listens to Donna's moans of pleasure and satisfaction.
He grazes her clit with his teeth and Donna springs up to a sitting position, trapping his wrist underneath her.
“Holy shit!”
“You like that?” Dean smiles up at her, his lips wet with her arousal.
“Yea,” Donna says dreamily.
“I'm glad and I'll do it again,” he tells her. “But baby, you're breaking my wrist.”
“Oh!” Donna says as she realizes what she’s done. She lies back and Dean reluctantly withdraws from her body.
As he rubs his wrist with his other hand, he shifts off the end of the mattress. Before he gets too far, he is surprised when Donna drops to her knees on the floor and takes his cock in her hand.
“I've never thought this about any others, but you got the prettiest dick ever, Winchester. I just want to eat it up.”
Dean can't help but chuckle. “What's stopping ya darlin’?”
Nine times out of ten, Cas enjoys the music that Jack puts on for the pair of them in the Continental. He'll pick some softer, poppy stuff, nothing rock or old like Dean's music, which Cas appreciates. Outside of the Impala, Castiel did not particularly enjoy Dean's music taste, though he doesn't dislike it.
They're on an empty highway when Jack reaches across the dash to turn up the radio, somehow connected to his phone's music, which was a mystery to Castiel. Instantly, the music grows louder and Jack bops his head around to it, wiggling in his seat.
"This is one of my favorites, Dad," Jack remarks, pointing happily to the screen of his phone. "It's Taylor Swift! The Taylor who wrote Shake It Off?"
Cas laughs but keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead, unwilling to drive distracted with Jack in the front seat. "I'm familiar with Taylor Swift, Jack," Cas says, adding, "What song is this?"
That gets Jack excited, practically hopping in his seat as he pauses the song to explain it all. "It's called Cruel Summer. It's from her Lover album and it's about like a secret summer relationship where she just wants it to be a real relationship and be in love openly. If you listen to the lyrics," Jack unpauses the song, and sound once again pours out of the car speakers, "You can really hear some of her lyrical genius."
What doesn't kill me makes me want you more, Jack hums along, looking at Cas expectantly. This isn't quite what he imagined tempo-wise when Jack explained the concept, but he couldn't help but admit it worked very well.
By the time they reached the bridge, Cas is hanging on to every word, Jack closing his eyes and tapping out the beats with all ten of his fingers, and likely all ten of his toes. It's fun, distracted, and meaningful, and Cas wants to smile wider than possible inside his vessel, but he knows Jack can see his true form glowing.
Said "I'm fine" but it wasn't true
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
At those lines, Cas blinks, feeling something settle deep in his chest. He knew that feeling, didn't he? He didn't know much about fever dreams and vending machines, but he knew secrets. Secrets he couldn't tell or he'd lose it all, everything he wanted, but this wasn't what he wanted, he wanted more, more than just Dean's lips on his behind closed doors, more than just meaningless sex.
Jack has noticed Castiel's stilling, looking over at him with concern on his features, but Cas pays no mind to it, just listens more, gets lost inside the lyrics.
And I scream for whatever it's worth
"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
It's dark, Cas' world is dark, and his vessel is leaving, pulled into the dark goo surrounding him, blocking his view of Dean, of Dean's sad features and loveless eyes. Dean didn't love Cas, he couldn't. Cas was dying, almost for real that time, and Dean couldn't say it, couldn't squeeze it out.
Cas comes to and he's got his hands fisted in his hair, the car pulled to the side of the road, Jack's eyes locked on him. There's concern there, a lot of concern, but Cas' heart is thudding in his chest and this isn't supposed to happen and it's a happy song and Jack is going to be so mad at him and Cas is stupid, so stupid, and,
"Dad?" Jack whispers, poking at Cas' arm, "I'm sorry if the song was a lot. Are you okay?" Of course Jack isn't mad at Cas, Jack is a kind person, a loving person.
All Cas can squeeze out in response is, "He doesn't love me. He'll never love me."
"Dean?" Jack asks, and that's what shatters Cas, his last wall crumbling down, tears flowing from his eyes like he's been saving them for years.
"I'm sorry," Cas sobs, "I'm sorry."
There's a skidding noise, sharp in Cas' ears, from just outside the car, and of course, Dean has just thrown Baby in park in the middle of the road, looking over at Cas. Then Dean's running, dashing towards Cas' car, Sam right behind, and then they're both banging on the Continental window, pulling the door handle, trying anything to get in.
Jack hits the unlock button and then there's hands all over Cas, a hand on his shoulder and in his hair and then on his cheek and then down his back and then just waiting for him to respond. "Cas?"
All Cas can do is shake his head, unable to voice any of it, to explain it, because it really was stupid, wasn't it? A song affecting him like this, making him sob like this?
"He doesn't think you love him," Jack explains, staring directly at Dean, earning a soft and quick chuckle from Sam.
It takes Dean a lot less time than Cas assumed to process, Dean responding instantly with a soft, "I love him," and a pat on Cas' shoulder.
Sam clears his throat, leaning into the car, saying, "Not that kind of love, Dean," and rolling his eyes at his brother.
"Oh," Dean says softly, picking up Cas' face with his hands, palms cupping Cas' cheeks, green eyes warming Cas up. "I love you, y'know. That's why I kissed you. Like, multiple times. And the, y'know," Dean sighs, motioning with his tongue against his cheek exactly what he meant (that was going to be an interesting talk with Jack later).
"I'm sorry," Cas sobs, "I know, I know you do, but you don't say it, and I," he pauses, gasping for a breath, "I need to hear it, and not switch back into just friends when we're in a public space. I want," Cas stutters, "I want all of you. I'm sorry."
There's the look in Dean's eyes, a look of utter pity and guilt, of hurt and a dire need to comfort. He's silent, dead silent, and Cas almost needs to count under his breath, remember exactly how long it took to ruin everything, and then Dean's lips are on his and he can't count anymore.
It's quick, no more than a press of lips, but it's warm and feels good inside of Cas' chest, fizzing up and calming the shakes in his body, tears still flowing. "Cas, I love you, and I'm the one who's sorry," Dean says, "I'm stupid sometimes, and I didn't know you wanted that. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for hiding," and then Dean pulls Cas up into another kiss, this one better, deeper, realer.
Cas can still vaguely make out the background sounds of Jack and Sam giggling, and when he pulls back from the kiss, Sam has just handed Jack a $20.
