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angelicdaggers · 1 year

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DNR- DESTIEL AU

CHAPTER ONE

Dean's pov

It was a blizzard-bound morning, my brother, Sam, and I shuffling through the snow with shotguns in our calloused and frozen hands. "We've been at this for hours, Dean. When are we going to turn around?" Sam whines as though he isn't a grown ass twenty-two year old. I roll my eyes and ignore him, trekking along throughout the white painted woods. We're out on a hunt, possible ghoul, so uh, aim for the head. But he's right, we have been out here for hours and nothing. Not a single snap of a twig in this vacant and forlorn forest.

"Dean," Sam says, a few steps behind me.

"Come on, Sammy." I say in a gruff and stern voice, knowing he's going to start whining again soon if I don't set him straight.

"Dean..." Sam says again, this time much more carefully.

I quirk a brow and turn back, finding my brother surrounded by two freakish looking.. what I would assume to be, ghouls. They've both got knives pressed into Sam, his gun thrown to the side in the snow. The woman with her knife against his throat as she holds him from behind, while the younger man, maybe boy, pressed his switchblade into Sam's wrist.

"Oh, come onnn." I groan.

"If you want him to live, you throw the gun down and you take a couple steps back. Got it?" The woman hisses out, pointing the blade into Sammy's neck and making him wince, drawing a sliver of blood.

"Yeah, this is where you remove those blades from my brother and take a step back yourself, bitch." I threaten, holding my shotgun up in the air toward the boy. "Trust me, I know where to aim."

"Brother, aye?" In a flash of an eye, the boy slips the knife through my brother's wrist and retracts. "Aah!" Sam groans in pain.

"Sam!" I shout, watching as the blood spills from his wrist. He quickly knocks the knife from the woman and elbows her in the face, knocking her to the ground. The boy backs away and threatens the switchblade closer to Sam, swiping it through the air. I swing my shotgun to the boy's head, taking a step back to get a better aim, and in that moment I feel a searing hot pain clamp down on my leg.

"Aahh!!"

"Dean!"

Glancing down, I see, oh great, my right leg is caught in some medieval looking bear trap. I shoot my shot in that very split second, watching as the ghoul drops dead with a bullet in his head.

"Dean, don't move, I'm coming." Sam says, running to me cautiously and falling on his knees, clutching at his wrist. I'm sure he's seeing triple right now from blood loss. Looking behind him, I see the other ghoul knocked to the ground, so I drop my gun in the snow.

"Fuck, Sam, it's bad." I groan, trying not to wince out in pain. The rusted metal enclosed around my leg, blood clumps and slides down.

"It's okay, just.. don't move," He warns, rubbing gently at the bottom of the trap to read the label. "Great, no instructions." He adds.

So here we are, bleeding out in the middle of the forest in a blizzard. Great.

"You don't know how to open a bear trap?!" I grumble.

"No, Dean! Do you?!" He retorts with the same amount of gruffness.

"No..." I sigh, my body begging to fall to the ground. I'm sure the bone has snapped, there's no way it's still intact.

We jingle with the trap, Sam making it much worse as it clamps harder and harder and just when I'm sure I'm about to be decapitated by the leg, the trap opens. "Oh son of a bitch," And then yell out in more excruciating pain as I can completely feel all the way down to my toes. Oh it is so broken.

"Are we gonna die out here, Sammy?"

Sam looks up at me, wavering his head back and forth as his eyes droop. "No, no, Dean. Shut up, okay? We're gonna be fine." I try to lift my leg up away from the trap and realize I can barely move it. "Can you move it?" He asks, to which I groan in response.

"What do you think?" I growl, grabbing my leg and moving it forcefully. I limp or moreso hop to a tree and lean against it, ripping my flannel sleeve from under my jacket and getting a large strip of it free. "C'mere, Sam. We've gotta cover that wound."

My younger brother complies and comes to me, holding his leaking wrist out. I wrap the thin fabric around his wrist as tightly as I can, trying to ignore his winces. "You know this, it has to be tight," I grumble, tying a knot and dropping his wrist. Sam holds it to his chest and sighs out a long smokey breath in the frigid air. We hear a small whimper and turn to see the last standing ghoul crying over the other, what I would assume to be, her son.

Sam reaches down and grabs my shotgun, ready to end her. "You've killed for the last time," He grumbles, finger on the trigger.

In the blink of an eye, a feathery winged being appears, placing a hand on the ghoul. "Hey!" Sam shouts, and before he can shoot his shot, they both disappear. What the hell? That thing, it had black touseled wings portrayed behind its back, and it just... disappeared. "What the hell was that?" We both say at the same time.

"It can... fly?" Sam questions.

"Yeah, and it just saved that ghoul," I mutter angrily. I glance down at my leg once more, and oh, yes, the bone is slightly sticking out of my skin, blood seeping out much faster now.

"We gotta get to a hospital," Sam points out, stepping closer to me and wrapping my arm around his shoulder. He forces me off the tree and attempts to help me walk, practically dragging me forward, picking up his gun as we trek out of the bloody snow. We're a good third of the way back to the impala when we hear a soft 'whoosh'. "What the hell?" I mutter, stopping and looking around. Nothing.

"Come on, we've gotta keep going." Sam mumbles, "Probably just a bird."

We carry on, needing quite a few stops along the way for me to clutch my leg and hold back angry tears. Pain, I can handle. Even a monster getting away I can handle, but the thought of something flying around us, watching, preying down on us. I'm infuriated this happened. Whatever it is, I'm going to kill it.

"Oh thank God," Sam whispers as we finally get to the car, hours having passed as we both grew much weaker. It dawns upon me that I'm unable to drive, my right leg practically severed, and I just groan out, even more annoyed.

"C'mon buddy," Sam helps me into the passenger seat. I couldn't help but glare at him as I offer him the keys. "Take her nice and easy or I'll kill you," I threaten, not even knowing what I would begin to do if something happened to my baby. Sam rolls his eyes and takes the keys, shutting the passenger door and making his way around the car. He starts the engine and slowly reverses out of the snow, careful not to get us stuck. Once we're out of the woods and pulling out onto the main road, Sam whips the turn and speeds his way to the hospital. I would be annoyed if I could focus on anything other than the searing pain in my leg, my vision clouding the more I focused on it.

"Sam," I utter out as I can feel my vision blackening.

"Hey, hey! Stay with me." Sam says, lightly slapping on my face. I can't help it as I become dizzier and dizzier, my head falling limp as the last thing I see is that feathered being in the middle of the road.

Sam's pov

"Dean..." I whisper, trying to hide my own fear as my brother begins to black out. "Dean!" I shout, watching as he falls limp. I turn back to the road and as I am about to speed further down the road, that feathered monster from earlier appears right in front of the car. I slam on the brake, the impala skidding forward to a stop right in front of the being. It glares forward at us and spreads out its wings, sizing us up. What the hell is this thing? Grabbing my gun, I step out of the car and go to aim right at it, watching as the poor man this thing is possessing furrows his brows. Just as I go to, it disappears again. "What the-?" I mumble, looking around the vacant highway and fields on either side, that thing is just... gone.

Stepping back into the car, I stuff my gun back into the glove box and look over at Dean to see that he's still knocked unconscious. "Are you breathing?" I whisper more or less to myself, holding my fingers to his nose, "Oh, good, you're breathing." I shake him by the arm and try to wake him, but to no avail, he just lays against the seat limp. "Great." With no other choice but to carry on to the hospital, I rev the engine and tail it out of this place.

Pulling into the parking lot of the hospital, I check again to make sure my brother is breathing and then run in. A large waiting room is filled to the brim with moaning and groaning people, and if I'm being honest, it looks as though there was a war that I missed. You know, minus the suited and military-uniformed people. Just a bunch of civilians all bloody and battered. What the hell happened in this town? We've only been here in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania a couple of days, only having been to a few diners, a broken down motel, and the police station. So far we haven't seen anything to this multitude.

There is a line all the way to the entrance of people waiting to be seen, and fuck I really don't have time for this. "Please, someone, my brother, he's severely injured and knocked unconscious," I call out, to which not a single staff member even lifts a finger or looks up in my direction.

"Been here an hour, they still won't even assess my girlfriend's condition," A red-haired woman in front of me in line mutters, "Good luck getting their attention." She points over to what I would assume to be her girlfriend, the brunette holding a tissue over her bloody nose as she sits in the waiting room section of the lobby.

And I know now is not the time to play doctor, but I speak up, "What's brought you here?"

"I'm not sure," The red hed says, "We just can't get her nose to stop bleeding." Then pauses, "How about you?"

"My brother's leg was caught in a bear trap," I mumble, "Hunting trip."

She raises a brow, "And your wrist?" With her pointing down at the bloody strip of fabric tied around my wrist, I quickly pull my jacket sleeve over it. "Oh, uh- that one's harder to explain."

"Oh, um, sorry to overstep," The woman apologizes, giving me a sympathetic smile.

"You're good. I should- uh, I should go check on my brother." I murmur, giving her a nod and turning away, walking back out to the Impala.

That is when I come out to see that thing- that winged creature carrying my brother, walking into the forest. "Hey!" I shout, quickly grabbing my gun from the glove box of the car and pointing it at the creature. Flicking the safety off, I blast off a bullet in the air. It turns around, still holding Dean as if he wasn't a large full grown man, more like a feather, and narrows its eyes at me.

Before it gets the chance to disappear again, I shoot it right in the arm, making it drop my brother slightly. But just like magic, it lifts Dean back up and nods off the pain as if it weren't even there. "Do you really think those things work on someone like me?" It questions, wings curling around its sides and around Dean. They're huge and an ominous dark grey, maybe even black. I have never seen anything like this in my life. At least not outside of books. I never would've believed something like this actually exists.

"What are you?" I ask.

The thing smirks and turns back to the forest, "Now why would you believe me?" And just like that, the creature disappears with my brother in his arms.

#destiel #dean winchester #castiel #castiel wings #wingkink #wings #angel wings #destiel story #destiel fic #jimmy novak

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castielific · 2 years

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Idiots in Love

Title: Idiots in Love (AO3) Words: 6 625 Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Explicit Tags: Alternate Ending, Human!Cas, Dean has a sexuality crisis Summary:

"So, no God, no wings, no imminent apocalypse, what are your plans now?" Dean tries to make the question sound casual by taking a gulp of his beer.

"I want to have sex with a man," Cas declares, nibbling at a red vine cherry twist. He barely reacts to Dean spitting his beer all over the table and choking on his sip. (...) Cas tilts his head and adds, "I may need your help with that."

You can read it under the cut or on AO3

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"So, no God, no wings, no imminent apocalypse, what are your plans now?" Dean tries to make the question sound casual by taking a gulp of his beer.

Truth is, Dean is getting worried about the ex-angel. Cas has taken a little too much of a liking to Dean's habits of spending his days in his pajamas. It was fun the first couple of days and Dean had a blast showing him all his favorite shows and lazing around with his best friend. Except now it's been nearly a month since Chuck has been gone and Cas became human, and Dean's pretty sure Cas hasn't changed out of those damn pajamas for the whole week. At least, that's what it's starting to smell like. Thank God Cas also loves showers or they would have to febreze the whole bunker at this point. He's just not caught up on the whole laundry thing yet. Or, you know, being a functional human being that does anything other than watching TV in his pajamas all day and gobbling candies. There's just...so much candy. It's a wonder Cas hasn't gotten sick already.

"I want to have sex with a man," Cas declares, nibbling at a red vines cherry twist. He barely reacts to Dean spitting his beer all over the table and choking on his sip. Only raising an interrogative eyebrow as he watches the hunter cough and frantically hit his own chest with a fist. As soon as Dean finally manages to start breathing normally again, Cas tilts his head and adds, "I may need your help with that."

It's a good thing Dean hasn't taken another sip because even his own saliva seems hard to swallow right now. Good thing the choking already made his face bright red too.

"You-what!?" he stops, trying to compose himself. His heart is beating so fast that for a second he thinks he's gonna throw up.

Despite his apparent nonchalance, Dean catches Cas sending him a nervous glance. The damn red vine is still hanging from his friend's lips and Cas goes crossed eyes when he tries to avoid Dean's gaze by looking at the candy.

"So what, you want me to drive you to a bar and be your wingman?"

There's a flash of something that Dean doesn't have the time to identify on Cas' face, before his poker face is back on. "If that's how you think you can help me, yes. I'd appreciate it."

"Okay. We'll- We'll do that then," Dean declares, raising up. His stomach is in knots and his body is begging him to run away from this situation. He's not sure why, but he feels a disappointment that he wasn't expecting. "Tonight's good for you?"

"Yes, Dean. Thank you," Cas looks about as uncomfortable as Dean feels.

Maybe he was expecting the hunter to react another way to Castiel basically coming out to him?

Yeah, that's probably it.

Dean should make an effort to appear extra supportive tonight; he doesn't want his best friend to think he's not accepting his sexuality. He nods to himself at the thought.

He should probably say something more right now actually. They look at each other for a moment. Cas is scrutinizing his face in that intense way he has, like he's trying to read his mind. Dean is used to it, yet right now it's making his skin itch, so he just offers a last nod and walks away.

************

Dean waits to have a beer and a shot, plus the whisky he downed before coming, to break the tension between them. Cas hasn't said a word on the drive here. Dean tried to joke about him making an effort, because Cas put on a nice white shirt and jeans, but the joke fell horribly flat, Cas sending a look at his clothes, and muttering about Dean telling him it was "appropriate dating attire" last time. It took a moment for Dean to remember the worst experience in babysitting ever. He was ready to joke about hoping things turn out better this time, but Cas was already walking to the garage and getting into Baby.

He still hasn't said much. Dean hopes it's just because Cas is nervous, that it has nothing to do with anything Dean could have done (or not done). He still feels like he should say something though.

"Cas, I know I probably didn't react the way you were hoping earlier," Dean starts, trying to pick his words carefully.

"What do you mean?" Cas tilts his head, looking genuinely interested by the answer. Maybe a little too much.

"I just want you to know that I'm one hundred percent okay with all this," Dean says with a vague gesture at their surroundings.

Dean actually searched the internet to find a gay friendly bar in their area. He didn't want Cas to be confronted with any homophobic douchebags. It's clearly not the kind of bar Dean is used to, and it's making him even more uncomfortable. Every surface is shiny and modern and white, and there are lasers going around the room, along with some electronic music that might just make his ears bleed.

Cas seems unfazed by it and it makes Dean wonder what kind of bar Cas would actually choose to go to if they gave him a choice from time to time. They always kinda make those decisions for him. Hell, before right this instant, Dean never actually thought about the fact that Cas' first choice might not be roadhouses, diners, or even classic rock (God forbid). Cas just never seemed that interested in all that, just going along with whatever Sam and Dean want to do (okay, mostly Dean). But he's human now, he deserves to explore what he likes or doesn't like, even if that ends up being different from what his friends favor.

That's probably what they're doing right now, actually, Dean thinks when he sees Cas' eyes following a guy passing near their table. Dean wishes he was a better friend, that he could be more supportive, but he can't help but hate it.

He doesn't want to be here trying to get Cas laid with another guy. He wanted them to stay at home and watch movies together. He's ready to let Cas explore his tastes in movies and food and even music, but this? Dean doesn't like this. It feels wrong and unsettling and he's not sure if that means that he's homophobic or a terrible friend or...whatever.

He hates this, but he'll do his best to play along. For Cas. Because he lo...likes Cas. Very much. As a brother. So if Cas can listen to the same music tape seven times in a row and not complain, Dean can very well sit his ass in this bar, listen to terrible music and act supportive for one night.

Cas is still looking at him like he knows that Dean is lying and is not comfortable with this at all, so Dean feels the need to explain.

"I was just surprised, that's all. I had no idea you were into dudes now."

"I've always been 'into dudes'." The air quotes he makes prove his exasperation. Cas only uses air quotes when he's frustrated.

"Well, you've never said," Dean pouts, scratching at the label on his beer. He's trying not to get defensive because they don't need that right now, but Cas is obviously upset at him and he doesn't understand why.

"You're right. I didn't." Cas takes a deep breath that ends in a sigh. "The first...attraction I ever felt was for a man," Cas confesses. "I was still an angel back then, I didn't really understand it. Then I became human and-," he stops for a second, biting his bottom lip like he's stopping the words he really wants to say, "I guess I thought it would be easier to fit in if I were to focus on girls," he admits, a little sheepish. "After all, It's not that I don't like girls. I'm not...I'm not really attracted to gender or physical attributes, it's more about…," his eyes travel over Dean's features as Cas searches for the right words. "It's more about who they are."

"Yeah," Dean breathes. "Yeah, I think I get that."

The corner of Cas' lips raises up in a smile, a little timid but relieved.

"I'm not sure you're gonna learn much about who people are in a place like this, though." Dean sends a doubtful look toward the dance floor, where people in various states of undress are rubbing against each other.

"I'm not looking for my soulmate tonight," Cas shrugs it off, "Just sex," Cas says, inclining his head as he watches a man langourously tonguing another guy's bellybutton. "I think you're right, though. This doesn't look like my scene," he admits with a grimace that looks half intrigued, half dubious about what he's seeing.

Thank fucking God Dean can't help but think in relief. He was starting to worry about Cas starting to blast David Guetta in the Bunker and wearing net shirts. Although the net shirts might be...Nope, that would be weird.

"Should I try Tinder then?" Cas' question is so unexpected that Dean chokes on his own saliva. Again.

"How do you even know about Tinder?" he asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He may have spit a little over the table too, but Cas doesn't seem to notice, or care.

"I'm a human living in the twenty-first century now, Dean. I know things." Dean raises a dubious eyebrow, and Cas shrugs. "The man from the store told me about it," he admits with an eye roll.

"What? What man? What store?"

"He asked me if I was on Tinder, and seemed very disappointed when I said I wasn't. Although considering the things he propositioned we do, maybe that's not my scene either," Cas reflects out loud.

What the Hell? Who's that guy 'propositioning' Cas? Dean really needs to know so he can 'proposition' his fist into that guy's face.

"What store, Cas? When did that happen?"

"Hello beautiful," a guy in black jeans and a tight tee-shirt salutes lasciviously as he appears next to the table, leaning his hips against it, back to Dean as he leers at Cas.

"Go away, we're busy," Dean dismisses, pushing at the hips until the guy nearly tumbles. He sends Dean a glare before going away. Cas' mouth is open like he was actually considering answering. "What guy, Cas?" Dean insists. He's gonna find that asshole and tear him a new one. Who the hell goes around 'propositioning' angels anyway? A fucking pervert, that's who!

Cas' mouth snap closes and he squints at Dean. "That was very rude, Dean," he reproaches, looking at where the guy from earlier has disappeared into the crowd.

"Who, him? He was a jerk, Cas."

"You don't know that," Cas reproches. "He had a very nice smile."

"I have a nice smile, and I'm a jerk."

"But you obviously don't want to have sex with me, so," Cas mutters to himself. His eyes go comically wide when he realizes that he said it out loud. Probably as wide as Dean's.

"WHAT."

Cas doesn't blush often, yet his cheeks are definitely redder right now. He doesn't let that bring him down though, sitting up straighter and raising his chin in that stubborn way he has. "Well, I'm not wrong, am I?" he taunts, eyes firmly set on Dean's and...shit.

Shit shit shit.

IS HE?

Dean opens and closes his mouth a few times. He feels like a bomb just exploded inside his brain. Where did that come from? Of course Cas is wrong. Dean doesn't want to sleep with him...does he?

Okay, he may have thought about it a few times. That wasn't voluntary though, like when you dream about your mom's nipples or something. Except the thought of having sex with Cas definitely didn't provoke the same ick factor that thinking about his mom's nipples just did. With Cas it's more like...curiosity?

Even now, in the middle of the most uncomfortable conversation ever, Cas' chin remains jutted, his stare firm and Dean...Dean wonders what it would take to break that strong facade. To make him gasp for breath and beg for release. To make him lose control.

The thought makes him gulp, eyes falling to Cas' lips and yeah, those have definitely starred in a few of his fantasies. Not, like, explicitly. Or with Cas' face attached to it. Just in a furtive thought as he was pleasuring himself 'eh I wonder what those lips would feel like wrapped around my cock'. Or Cas' hands. Maybe he looked at his ass once or twice, on the rare occasion that the damn trench coat wasn't hiding it. Damn that trenchcoat...he actually had a few fantasies about that trenchcoat too.

Oh God.

What?!

Dean's not sure what happens next.

One moment he's having a panic attack in a gay bar outside of Kensington, and the next time he blinks he's in the bunker's garage having no idea how he drove back here or how long it's been. What he immediately realizes though, is that Castiel definitely wasn't along for the ride.

Oh shit, did he just abandon Cas in the middle of a Gay bar? The word gay makes him flinch.

He's not gay! Just because he may be attracted to a dude doesn't make him gay! There were tons of men in that bar and he wasn't attracted to anyone else other than...Cas. Can he be blamed when Cas undid one button too many on his white shirt again?

Shit shit shit. He needs a drink.

The sound of the bunker door closing brings him out of his daze again, God knows how long later. He looks up from the map table littered with beer bottles, and is brutally reminded about the fact that he abandoned Cas when his eyes come across the glare the other man is currently sending him.

Dean lowers his eyes in guilt, but immediately regrets it when they fall on the rest of Cas' body.

Cas is drenched. His white shirt is so wet it's sticking to his body, showing the skin under it. Dean's eyes glide along the darker shade of a nipple that the see-through shirt can't hide anymore. Hell, it's so transparent that Dean can see Cas' belly button. He suddenly has a new look on what that guy was doing to that other guy on the dance floor.

Does he want to lick Cas' belly button?

His staring is interrupted when the nice view is suddenly turning away and stomping out of the library. Dean's on his feet and following before he even realizes. Damn he has totally lost all control of his body tonight, hasn't he? And of his mind. And of his sexuality, apparently.

Cas' door nearly hits him in the face when the other man slams it. Dean deflates.

"Cas?" Dean says, knocking hesitantly.

Cas is obviously pissed, rightly so, but he can't leave him go to bed hating Dean like this. He's not sure what he wants from Cas right now, but hate was never it.

"Cas, come on, open up," he says, knocking again. Dean worries his lip as he waits for Cas to answer. "I'll stay here all night if I have to. You can't ignore me forever!"

All he hears in answer is the noise of a drawer being close too sharply. Okay, definitely pissed then.

"I know that was a jerk move, okay? Please let me apologize at least!" He knocks again before leaning his head against the door, sighing. He really screwed up tonight, didn't he?

The door opens at once, making Dean stumble forward. He would have fallen on his face if it wasn't for Cas catching him. He blinks and there is suddenly a lot more skin showing than what he was expecting, the surprise making him jump away at once. Cas is wearing a dark blue bathrobe that Dean accidentally tugged at when he nearly fell. From what he's seen, Cas isn't wearing much else.

Except maybe the scowl and the glare directed at Dean right now.

Castiel doesn't bother rearranging his bathrobe as he crosses his arms and waits for Dean to say something.

Anything.

He should really say something.

The thing is, Cas didn't rearrange his bathrobe and there is a whole lot of skin showing, the collar hanging so low that one of Cas' nipples is looking right at him. It's very distracting. Also: legs. Dean doesn't think he's ever seen Cas' bare legs before. Hell, he's never even imagined Cas' legs before. They're more tanned than they have any right to be. His thighs are paler though. And so damn meaty. Oh God, Cas' thighs are showing. Dean feels his ears burn.

"You left me, Dean," Cas' hoarse voice accuses, making Dean look up at his face so fast that he nearly gets whiplash. The hurt on his friend's features is definitely sobering.

Dean slowly takes a step forward, not sure he's welcomed. Cas stands his ground until Dean is standing right in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I don't know what I was-," Dean pleads.

"No," Cas interrupts. "Please, you at least owe me honesty," Cas says, taking a step closer. He's so close Dean can feel the hem of his bathrobe brush against his shins. Dean licks his lips and Cas' eyes drop, following the movement as he inclines his head. "Why did you run away, Dean?" He's searching Dean's gaze for the answer and Dean forces himself to hold his gaze, even though his legs and head are begging him to run away right now.

"I- I'm sorry, Cas, I shouldn't have done that," he says, taking a step backward. Cas follows him, not letting him cop out as he continues to observe him like he's the most intriguing thing he's ever seen.

"I asked you a question, Dean. This isn't an answer," he scolds in an authoritative tone that makes a shiver run through Dean, his toes curling in his boots.

It brings a memory to the forefront of his mind: 'You should show me some respect'. His dick had twitched at that voice back then too. Damn, has he been that oblivious for the last eleven years? How many times did he ignore those feelings, this attraction to Cas? How long has he been lying to himself about this?

"I-" Dean starts, closing his mouth and gulping with difficulty before he starts again, "I think I do."

Cas frowns in confusion. "You do what?"

"You know," Dean tries to dismiss. Cas continues to squint at him and oh God he's not gonna make him say it out loud, is he? "I think I do want…," he makes a vague gesture over Cas' body, "with you," he finishes lamely. Somehow the last word sounded like a question, and Dean bites his own lip, silently admonishing himself. That was the worst 'propositioning' he ever did. He probably gave the store creep a run for his money.

Cas takes half a step closer, raising his chin. He's so close that their chests are brushing. "Say it."

"Wh- Cas, I-," Dean stutters.

"Say it," Cas orders.

A tiny whimper escapes Dean's lips at the tone of his voice. The hunter wipes his mouth with his hand, like there is any way he could take it back or that Cas didn't hear it. The other man is still staring straight at him, but there is something new in his gaze, a hardness that is definitely making something in Dean harden too.

"I want to-" Dean closes his eyes. Why is it so hard to say? It's not like it's a secret anymore, it's obvious in the way Cas' pupils are swallowing the blue of his eyes that not only does he know exactly what Dean wants, but he wants it too. He wants him. "You. I want you, Cas," Dean finally croaks.

It's like a light breeze of air passes over Cas' face and relaxes all his features at once. His eyes close, his brows smooth out and his mouth goes slack as he makes a tiny sound. He looks like he's just swallowed a bite of the best damn burger in the world. That's a nice preview of the kind of face Dean wants to see him make in the very near future.

When Cas opens his eyes, the corner of his lips is slightly raised in a smirk. "Good," he simply says. He looks like he might devour Dean alive any second now, or maybe fall to his knees and thank God or something.

Which is why Dean is so startled when Cas turns around and walks away.

Dean blinks at him as the other man goes to his dresser where his wet shirt is rumpled and starts straightening it out like he's planning on doing laundry right now.

"What? That's all?" Dean gapes.

Cas stops moving for just a second, sending him a fast glance over his shoulder before he walks to the ensuite bathroom.

"Cas!" Dean calls, following him and watching, bewildered, as Cas starts hanging his shirt and pants over the shower curtain bar.

When he turns, he looks like he hadn't even noticed Dean was there. Dean squints. He knows better. He knows Cas. There is a self-satisfied quirkiness to his lips, a cocky glint in his eyes as he raises an eyebrow at Dean.

"Were you expecting anything else?"

In answer, Dean gives him his best 'don't bullshit a bullshiter look' and Cas shrugs.

"Just because you want me doesn't mean I have to fall on my knees for you." An image of Cas on his knees distracts Dean for a second and he misses what Cas says next. "-for ten years now."

"Huh?" Dean says, his eyes hypnotized by the way Cas' bathrobe sashays around his bare legs as he takes a few steps closer.

Cas' groan of frustration is proof that he's realized Dean wasn't listening anymore. He throws his hands up, and pushes himself to pass next to Dean who's standing at the door. Their bodies press against one another for just a second, Dean's fingers involuntarily brushing against the fine hairs on one of Cas' thighs and making him gasp.

Cas just pushes on until he's pacing in his bedroom. Shit, he's been talking again.

"-dibly dense!" he finishes. "Dean!" he reproaches, his voice going higher in frustration when he notices Dean's hasn't been listening to his rant.

"Sorry sorry, I-" Dean says, raising his hands in front of himself in defense. He groans in frustration, pulling on the short hair on the back of his head. "I just realized I'm in love with my best friend and my brain has a little difficulty catching up, okay?!"

"You're what?" Cas says, eyes like saucer and mouth hanging open.

It takes a second for Dean to catch up to what's going on. What? He said just a few minutes ago that he was in lust for him he doesn't see-

Lust. Shit, wrong L word.

Wait.

Is it?

Dean lets himself fall on his ass on the bed, feeling like his legs just turned to jelly.

IS IT???

When Cas sits next to him, the mattress dips and they both slide closer, until their thighs are touching.

"You're right. It is a lot for one night," Cas admits, looking as dazed as Dean feels. "I never thought you could want me, let alone…"

"Does that mean you don't feel the same?"

That seems to wake Cas back up. "Of course I do!" He looks scandalized that Dean would think, even for a second, that Castiel doesn't love him.

"Well, you weren't exactly obvious," Dean argues.

"Back at you. You were so oblivious I suspect that you didn't even know yourself until tonight."

"Point taken," Dean admits. "Jeez, we really are a couple of dumbasses, aren't we?" Dean chuckles.

Cas laughing next to him is one of the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard.

Jesus, he really is in love with Cas, isn't he?

He sends him a look out of the corner of his eyes. Cas is still smiling as he fidgets with the cord of his bathrobe. Dean leans sideways until his shoulder bumps Cas' and they share the same stupidly fond smile for a moment.

The silence gets denser though, and Dean nibbles at his lip as he thinks. "So, where does that leave us, huh?".

"Here," Cas says, like it's the most obvious thing. "Together." He starts to literally point at them both, like Dean is an actual idiot. Dean rolls his eyes, grabbing Cas' hands to stop him. The move makes their shoulders bump again and this time they leave them there, their whole sides pressed against one another, hands linked on their laps.

"I'm not supposed to like men, you know," Dean says, looking at the decidedly manly hand he's still holding in his, at the hairy thighs showing under that.

"I'm not even supposed to be a man."

It hits Dean suddenly, how much he actually does love this ridiculous man. Angel. Ex-angel. Whatever. Cas could have turned into a goddamn dog and Dean would still love him.

Wait, no, that's weird, Dean thinks with a frown.

A hand on his chin startles him, but he follows it as it guides his head to the left. When Cas' lips brush his, it feels like every nerve in his entire body short-circuits. It makes him surge forward a little too eagerly and Cas' yelp of surprise is muffled by Dean's mouth as they fall backwards. Their teeth clash when Cas' head impacts with the mattress. Dean doesn't care, enthusiastically sucking on Cas' bottom lip.

This kiss is nothing like the other kisses he's known. Cas' lips are chapped, his scuff is scratching Dean's chin and there is no trace of roundness on the chest under Dean's. He cradles the side of Cas' face, passing a thumb against the grain of the stubble on his cheek, the sound and feel of it giving him goosebumps. He presses his thumb a little more firmly, making Cas open his mouth until Dean can slip his tongue between them. He gets a groan of approval in response, hands grabbing his arms as Dean slides as close as he can. He knows he's probably crushing Cas, but he doesn't care. Cas can take it. Cas can take him.

Like he can hear that very thought, Cas bites Dean's top lip so hard that it makes the hunter's hips buck against Cas' thigh. They both grunt their approval at the move.

It's like a switch is suddenly turned on, like they suddenly remember that they're not just two mouths, that they have bodies and skins to explore. Dean's hands slip under the collar of Cas' bathrobe to press against his chest at the same time as Cas grabs the edge of his shirt and starts to pull it up. Dean moves away just long enough to throw his shirt to the ground before he's delving back for Cas' mouth.

His hand reflexibly tries to squeeze at breasts that aren't there, but it makes Cas moan anyway, so he does it again. It makes him wonder what else a man's body could be responsive to. He desperately wants to find out. Dean releases Cas' mouth to latch on one of his nipples instead. Cas' whole body surges up against him, grabbing his hair as Dean bites and licks and sucks at the little nub.

Dean leans over Cas with one of his arms, while his other hand does what he's been dreaming about and undoes the knot securing that goddamn bathrobe. Dean pushes the pans of the robe to the side, sitting up to openly observe the view that has newly been revealed to him.

Okay, yes, that definitely does it for him.

Cas' cock is hard, curled slightly to the left over his stomach and who knew Dean would ever find another man's cock this beautiful. He wants to fall to his knees and worship it. The thought is new and exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

Cas doesn't let him ponder it for long, grabbing his face and bringing him right back against his lips. Cas' mouth is brutal, feeling like it's trying to win a battle against Dean's until they're both breathless and left panting into one another's mouths.

Dean is ready to go back to kissing when Cas slips further down until he's not under Dean anymore. Dean sits up, a flash of panic at having done wrong blurring his mind until he sees the bathrobe flying across the room. He blinks at the garment on the ground for a few seconds before his brain is able to get back with the program and realizes that this must mean...He looks up and Cas is lying naked in the middle of the bed. He looks like the best damn offering.

"Take off your pants," Cas rasps.

The order makes Dean twitch so bad inside the confinement of his pants that it makes him curl up a little. He's only too happy to obey, taking the rest of his clothes off as fast as he can.

He's ready to lie back over Cas when the other man stops him with a hand on his shoulder. "No. On your back," Cas says. It's not quite an order, but not a suggestion either, Cas' voice sounding confident in the fact that Dean won't question it, will obey him.

He's right and in an instant, Dean is lying beside him on the bed. The other man raises up on his knees, settling next to Dean's hips. Cas' gaze is burning a path against Dean's skin as it observes his naked body from his chin to his toes and back up.

A curious finger brushes against his sternum, and Dean shudders. That seems to intrigue Cas, who presses his fingers a little more firmly, letting them travel on Dean's skin in intriguing patterns. It reminds Dean of Cas drawing sigils on the wall and makes him wonder what he could be writing on his skin. The fingers slide from Dean's collarbone, encircling his nipples, and drawing a line toward his bellybutton. They follow the ridge of his hips, before brushing so close to the head of Dean's dick that it twitches like it's trying to follow the fingers as they go away, up until they're tracing Dean's lips and making him squirm.

"Cas," Dean whines as the fingers pass over one of his nipples again.

It makes Cas' hand stop just under the dip of Dean's collarbone as he looks back up at him. Two fingers grab Dean's chin as Cas leans forward, brushing his lips over his. It's nothing like their previous kisses, so much softer in comparison. It feels like a blessing and is gone in a second, Cas' lips deposing another kiss just under one of Dean's eyes instead, lips trailing over his cheekbones.

Dean gasps, eyes closing as those lips kiss under his other eye, then the corner of his mouth. "Cas," he pleads again. He's not sure what he's asking for, throat suddenly so tight with emotion that he's afraid tears are going to leak out if he opens them again.

No one has ever kissed him like that. Like he's precious, like he means the world to them. He wasn't expecting it, never thought he would be so lucky to have it, and now he's not quite sure how to handle it.

Lips are suddenly closing around his cockhead and Dean shouts, surging up on the bed in surprise. Cas' hands are right there on his hips, pinning him to the bed, and there's a smirk on the very lips that just blessed him as they press against the head of his cock.

"Fuck, I love you," Dean rasps when his eyes cross Cas' cocky gaze. Only that man could make him go from love and devotion to so much lust that he feels like his dick is gonna explode.

Cas' tilts his head in a way that Dean knows very well, except it's never been coupled with him opening his mouth, dragging the head of Dean's hard cock into his mouth as his blue eyes stay right on Dean's green ones. The flat of Cas tongue is pressing just under the head, and Dean nearly screams again when Cas starts to suck around him, just a little, like he's tasting the flavor of a goddamn popsicle. Cas closes his eyes for a second, savoring it. Dean swallows a breath as Cas' tongue pokes out for another taste at the slit of his dick. He hums at the taste of Dean's precum, before twisting his tongue playfully around the head.

He continues licking and sucking lightly for a while, but as the minutes pass, Cas starts to look pensive, lost in his own head as he absently mouths at Dean's dick.

Cas startles when Dean's hand lands on his shoulder. Dean's dick pops out of his mouth with a filthy noise.

"Cas," Dean groans in frustration, because what the hell, they were kind of in the middle of something? Cas blinks up at him, like he just remembered that Dean was here. Dean sighs and grabs his arm, resigned and worried. "Come here," he says, pulling him up. Cas sends a glance at Dean's dick, like he's regretting getting away from it, but follows Dean's directions and lays down next to him. "You okay?" Dean asks as he turns toward him. Cas still looks a little out of it, and it's making Dean's heart beat faster in panic.

What if Cas doesn't want him after all?

"I'm sorry," Cas says. Dean thinks he might die, right now, if this night ends up with Cas rejecting him. Cas must see the flash of fear on Dean's face, because his thumb comes to brush reassuringly against his cheek. Cas slides closer, one of his legs slipping over Dean's until he's as close as he could possibly get. Dean's cock is nestled against the crease of Cas hips and legs. He doesn't pay it any mind though, searching for the reassurance he needs into the blue eyes right in front of him.

"What is it?" he whispers in the space between them. His hand is squeezing Cas' biceps a little too hard, but he can't quite let go.

"I just-," Cas starts, licking his lips before he presses his forehead against Dean's. "I never thought I would get to have this," he confesses.

"Fucking thank God!" Dean exclaims, so relieved he could cry.

Cas startles away, frowning in confusion, and maybe a little vexation.

"You had me crazy worried there, Cas! I thought you were having second thoughts!" Dean says, laughing to himself as his nerves settle down.

"What? No!" Cas says. "Of course not! I could never regret being with you, Dean," Cas swears, so brusque in his honesty that it sobers Dean right up.

He rolls his eyes instead and catches Cas' mouth with his. He bites Cas' bottom lip a little in retribution for the grief he's just caused, and Cas presses his hips closer. They both groan when their dicks brush against one another.

"You good with the freak out now? Because we were kind of in the middle of something..."

"You're one to talk about freaking out," Cas teases, with a sharp thrust of his hips that make them both moan.

Dean rolls his eyes again, shutting Cas up with another kiss as he rolls over him. He whimpers at the way Cas' legs open up under him. It's giving him ideas that he doesn't have the patience to follow through tonight. He'll definitely be here to explore them very soon though.

For now, Dean grabs one of Cas' knees, guiding it until it wraps around his own hips and he falls a little bit further down, right where he needs to be. His weight comes down on Cas' hips, and the other man gasps, breaking their kiss as he throws his head back. Dean nibbles at his jaw instead.

With his free hand, he circles Cas' cock, stroking it a few times and enjoying the noise the other man makes. He observes the way his brows come a little down, the edge of his teeth appearing as Cas bites his bottom lip in pleasure. Dean delights at the way Cas' jaw clenches, muscles working under his cheeks when Dean squeezes just a little harder and twists his fist on the upward move. He feels like he could do this all night, just watch Cas react to his touch.

He's been hard for so long though that he feels he's gonna burst, so he shifts until his dick comes to nestle right against Cas', and closes his hands around the both of them. Dean moans at the feeling of Cas squeezed against him, of the warm slide of their cocks together in his hands. He tries to thrust into his fist, but as good as it is, it doesn't feel quite right. His other hand is busy holding him up above Cas, so he releases their members for a second and grabs one of Cas' hands, guiding it until their joined hands create a tunnel around the both of them. Dean thrusts a little and Cas makes a noise like he might die. That must mean it feels as good to him as it feels to Dean. Cas' eyes are glazed over and fixed on the ceiling, so Dean adjusts his position until he hovers right above him and can look him in the eyes.

"Hey, stay with me, Cas," Dean says with a little nip to Cas' chin.

Blue eyes are instantly on him, a coy smile pressing against Dean's mouth. "Always," Castiel whispers.

"You're such a sap," Dean scoffs, blushing despite himself, not used to such affection.

He waits for Cas' to open his mouth, right on the verge of a reprimand before he gives a sharp thrust forward. He buries his satisfied smile into Cas' neck when the other man arches his back with a yelp. Dean does it again, and again, and suddenly Cas is following along, raising his hips to meet his thrusts.

It's sloppy and a little too dry, and they can't quite coordinate their moves. It's also all kind of perfect. The smooth skin of Cas' cock sliding against his is perfect. The way Cas' fingers are linked with his, pressing them closer is perfect. The noises Cas makes will haunt Dean's fantasies for the rest of his life.

To think that they could have been doing this for the last ten years… Dean groans, thrusting a little harder. They're idiots. Both of them. Mostly him, he admits as Cas lets out a long moan and paints their hands with his release. It makes everything wetter and Dean squeezes their hands harder, hips thrusting erratically as he searches for his own pleasure. Cas grabs his hair, pulling just this side of too sharp and Dean comes with a cry that Cas swallows right away.

"We're idiots," Dean mumbles a few seconds later, as he is panting into the side of Cas' neck. Cas doesn't answer, just pats his shoulder in a commiserate way. Dean knows he gets it.

They're both so dense that they had to be made for each other.

#destiel story #destiel fic #destiel #deancas #dean/cas #Dean/castiel #spn fic #ao3 fic #Destiel ao3 #ao3 link #dean/castiel #supernatural #spn

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