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haus-seeblick · 3 years

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Suptober Day 3: Rainbows

Title: We’ve Got Your Back, Jack

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1,660

Tags: Mild (brief) Angst, Dean Winchester and Castiel are parents, De-aged Jack Kline (he did it to himself), Jack Kline is twelve, Fingernail painting as therapy, Claire is an excellent big sister, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Divergence from 15x18 (twelve years later), Jack has a guinea pig named Nougat

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Claire Novak/Kaia Nieves, Background Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy

On AO3 Here

When Jack is teased at school for wearing his favorite rainbow jacket, his family comes together to help build him back up.

“Sunshine, you gotta calm down.” He moves to stand behind Cas where he’s sitting at the kitchen table and squeezes his shoulders reassuringly. There’s hardly any give; Cas is a single ball of tension.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean sets a steaming mug of tea in front of Cas, who glares at it with such intensity that Dean’s surprised it doesn’t shatter on the spot.

“I can’t calm down,” Cas growls. “He was bullied. The sweetest boy in the world, and they made him feel small. How are you calm, Dean?”

Dean sighs and pulls up a chair. “He seemed fine, Cas. I mean, he is God. He was already talking about changes he wants to make once he comes back into power.”

Cas grips his mug and takes an abrupt, angry sip. “I wish he could make them now.”

“Me too, buddy. But he’s learning. Every shitty person he deals with, he learns something. That’s why he’s doing this whole human thing, remember?”

The kitchen’s quiet for a moment while Cas contemplates. He cups his hand over the tea, steam escaping between his fingers in lazy tendrils. “It’s just my instinct to shield him from cruelty.”

Dean nods. He scoots closer, sliding an arm around Cas’ warm, solid waist. “I know.”

Some of the rigidity in Cas’ posture softens and he leans into Dean’s side. Dean presses a kiss to his temple.

“What can we do?” Cas asks quietly. “For now. I want him to feel happy at school.”

Dean hums thoughtfully. “Not sure. The school already talked to the other kid's parents, so that part’s taken care of, and Jack said it was just the one boy. I think we just gotta be there for him. Remind him he’s awesome.”

“I just want to wear my rainbow coat.”

Dean and Cas turn around to see Jack standing in the doorway, rubbing his eye. He’s wearing the bee-patterned pajamas Cas got him for his twelfth birthday in the spring, and is cradling his guinea pig, Nougat, in one arm.

Cas immediately stands up and beckons Jack over. “You couldn’t sleep?”

Jack shakes his head, as earnest and deliberate as he does everything. He pads across the kitchen and hands Nougat to Dean before sitting down in Cas’ empty chair. It took Dean a while to get used to the guinea pig, to her sharp nails and shrill squeaks, but now he likes having her warm little body against his chest.

Cas flips the kettle back on to make Jack a cup of tea, too. “Did that boy’s teasing start with your coat?”

Jack plays with the strings on his pajama pants and nods. “I don’t understand. When he said those mean things and laughed, he felt—” Jack pauses, blinking thoughtfully at the ceiling. “He felt afraid, like he was cornered. Defensive.”

“His emotions must have been strong for you to sense them,” Cas says gently, pouring the steaming water into Jack’s favorite mug, a blue one with a big sun on the side. Dean slowly strokes a finger over Nougat’s soft brown head. His chest feels tight.

“Yes, they were. I feel bad that he’s scared,” Jack continues. “And I’m going to work on helping people like that when Amara gives me my powers again. But I also just want to wear my coat.”

He’s twelve, Dean thinks. He’s God, and he’s twelve.

“You’re gonna wear your coat, kiddo,” he says, bumping Jack’s foot with his own. “That other kid, it sucks that he’s hearing shitty stuff at home. And it’s not your fault that he took it out on you. Trust me. If you wanna go to school decked out in rainbows, we’ve got your back.”

Cas nods and crouches down next to Jack, handing him his mug. “Dean is right. Our priority is helping you be yourself and be happy during your time as a human.”

Jack shuffles his feet a little. He cups his hand over the mug just as Cas had done. “Um, in that case, can I ask something?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says.

“Well, my friend Mallary likes painting her nails. They look so cool. But she said boys don’t usually do that.”

“And you’d like to,” Cas prompts. His eyes meet Dean’s for a moment.

Jack nods. “Rainbow.”

Dean stands up, cradling Nougat snug against his chest as the guinea pig emits a startled squeak. “Well, then, you’re gonna have rainbow nails. I know just who to call.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire sweeps into the house the next morning — Sunday — in a whirlwind of hair and shopping bags. Even though they heard her coming all the way up the driveway, swearing and dropping things, it’s always a shock when she bursts through the door. Kaia follows quietly, with a fondly exasperated smile on her face. She rolls her eyes at Dean and he stifles a laugh.

Claire stomps into the living room and dumps her mountain of bags onto the couch. “Hi, old men. Where’s my brother?”

“Hello, Claire,” Cas says, lips quirking. “I see you’ve come quite prepared.” He’s leaning in the doorway to the living room, arms crossed, an old t-shirt of Dean’s stretched over his broad shoulders. From his perch on the couch, Dean lets his eyes roam appreciatively; Cas has been ageing ever since he returned from the Empty a human, and the years look good on him. He even has a bit of silver in his wild hair. Twelve years together, and Dean still can't believe his luck.

“Yeah, well, Dean calls me saying my baby bro needs a confidence boost, I’m gonna go all out.” Claire starts emptying the bags onto the coffee table. “I brought every color I could find.”

As if on cue, Jack appears in the doorway next to Cas. His hair is still rumpled from sleep but his eyes are shining, taking in the rows of nail polish that Claire is lining up on the table.

“Wow, is that all for me?” He practically bounces into the room and sits cross-legged on the floor, picking up a blue bottle.

Claire ruffles his hair, disheveling it even more, and sits down next to him. “Hell yeah. And for your dads, too.”

Dean blinks. “Uh— you want us to— yeah, that idea was for Jack, actually.”

This time it’s Kaia’s turn to stifle a laugh, and Dean shoots her a dirty look. Cas chuckles and pushes off the doorframe to join Dean on the couch. He takes Dean’s hand in his own and lifts it up, lightly stroking one finger at a time as he looks at the short, blunt nails. Dean may work hard at the garage, but he’s hygienic and doesn’t bring any grease home, under his nails or otherwise.

Now, he blushes a little as Cas brushes a kiss onto his knuckles. “Dean will look beautiful. Just like Jack.”

Jack whoops and shoots Dean a dazzling smile. Dean can’t really say no to that face.

It’s decided that Kaia will paint Jack’s nails rainbow, a different color on each nail (Jack insists that some should have polka dots, too), and that Claire will do Cas’ and Dean’s. Dean tries to ask for just black, like Baby, but gets shouted down by everyone in the room and grudgingly agrees to a dark green. When Claire is done wiping down his nails and applies the first brush of color to his thumb, he has to admit it looks nice.

Jack keeps exclaiming in delight every time Kaia starts on a new color, and nearly loses it when she reveals that she got some tiny glittery stars to sprinkle on the drying polish.

“It looks like a galaxy,” he breathes, eyes wide, moving his fingers gingerly in the light from the window. Dean glances at Cas, who’s getting his nails painted a holographic blue, and is surprised to see a bright sheen in Cas’ eyes as he watches Jack. He’s smiling softly. Dean reaches over (careful of his own drying nails) and lays a hand on his shoulder. Together they watch their kid — sort of God, sort of not — reclaim his happiness one sparkly fingernail at a time.

Once everyone’s clear coat polish is dry (Dean had no idea there were so many steps involved), they take a bunch of pictures to send to Sam and Eileen. Dean almost considers hiding his own hands, but Jack’s gazing at him so excitedly that he splays them on the table next to Cas’ without a second thought.

They do look cool. Sam even says so in his text, after a string of heart-eye emojis.

Claire and Kaia head out after lunch (Cas quietly packs up about half of the nail polish they brought, pressing it into Kaia’s hands to take back home with them). Jack spends the rest of the afternoon picking out a suitably colorful outfit to match his nails at school tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This was a wonderful idea, Dean. Thank you,” Cas says that evening as they’re back at the kitchen table, Cas nursing his usual mug of tea and Dean packing Jack’s lunches for the week. “He was so happy. I hope he’ll be okay tomorrow.”

Dean slides the last sandwich into the fridge and lays his hands back on Cas’ shoulders. They’re warm and pliant tonight. He digs his fingers in, leaning down to kiss Cas’ cheek.

“He’ll be okay. He knows we’ve got his back.” He’s quiet for a moment and runs a hand through Cas’ thick hair, following a silver strand with his shiny-green thumb. “That counts for a hell of a lot.”

Cas twists around, covering Dean’s hand still on his shoulder with his own and gazing up at him. “You are a good man, Dean Winchester. A good man and an excellent father.”

Dean sucks in a big breath. “All right, sunshine. That’s about all the feelings I can handle today.” He grins down at Cas, though, just to assure him he’s fine.

And he is.

#suptober21 #destiel ficlet #that's their kid!!#can't be a dadstiel blog without writing a dadstiel fic #i like the concept of jack de-ageing himself post-canon and growing up as a human before being god again #anyway i wanted them all to paint their nails together #even dean #hope y'all like it

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cloverhighfivewritestoo · 4 years

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Pineapple and Pizza

In which Cas meets Dean at the office’s happy hour and they fall in love right off the bat. Now they’re trying to take this to the next (sexy) step… Trying being the operative word here.

Start at the beginning Chapter 6 of 8 - Chores Day 👉 Read it on Ao3 w/c - 800w

Dean showed up as promised, a little over an hour later, with raw croissants and spreads. Castiel looked at what Dean had brought. “Oh wow... Brie, goat cheese, strawberry jam…” “Homemade by yours truly.” Castiel could feel his mouth watering already. “This is going to be so good…” He looked at the pastries, eyes wide. “You bought raw croissants! They’re really big. What brand did you get?” “Um, I made them.” “You what? You made them? When? This morning?” “Oh, no, you have to plan in advance. You can’t do those last minute.” Castiel looked at the beautifully puffed croissants. “How much in advance?” “Almost a whole day. And I had to get up really early this morning to roll them for the last proof.” “That’s crazy.” “Don’t worry, I went back to sleep.” Castiel squinted. “So I didn’t dream that kiss on my forehead.” Dean smiled fondly. “It wasn’t a dream.”

Castiel couldn’t believe the way this man looked at him. It was like there was nothing else in the world, no other moment past or future. Just those beautiful green eyes, so soft and caring, looking at him. He wished he could hold onto that moment. Alas, Castiel felt the pang of hunger, and his gaze automatically went to the croissants again. “I don’t know what to say. This is incredible.” “Wait until you taste them.” “I’m starving.” “Let’s do this then.” Dean made Castiel sit on a chair in front of the oven and watch the croissants bake while he sorted Castiel’s laundry and got a load going. He came back to the kitchen. “So, how are the croissants coming?” “They’re almost ready.” Dean took a chair and sat by Castiel. “Yep. A minute or two and they’re done.” “Smells heavenly.” Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and trailed his nose along his jaw line, pressing little kisses. “You smell really good yourself.” Castiel wrapped his arms over Dean’s. “You’re very distracting.” “Mmmmm…” “The croissants are done, Dean.” Dean let his chin rest on Castiel’s shoulder. “Right. Eat food first. Boyfriend after.” Castiel couldn’t help but chuckle as he kissed Dean’s cheek. They ate the warm croissants. When Dean asked him about it, Castiel would neither confirm nor deny he purposefully smeared a little jam on his face so Dean would come and lick it off. It ended in strawberry kisses, and Castiel found Dean suddenly forgetting the question altogether. When they were done eating, Dean told Castiel to stay seated while he cleaned up. “We want that thigh to heal, and fast.” Castiel smiled. “Of course, Dean.” “How are the stitches this morning?” “Very good. The cut was clean, so the wound is already closed up. The stitches keep everything in place, so I’m not worried.” “I like what I’m hearing.” Castiel chuckled. He leaned on the table. “I still can’t believe you made croissants for us.” “Actually, I wanted to bring them to you in bed, this morning.” “You mean you thought I’d stay the whole night? That’s very optimistic.” “But you did, didn’t you?” “Circumstances were not optimal.” “Still a win to me. We had croissants together this morning.” It was a win indeed. Castiel felt incredibly lucky even if things hadn’t gone according to plan. “I thought you’d be disappointed cause we didn’t get to have sex.” “Are you?” Castiel trailed his eyes all over Dean. He couldn’t help but be honest. “Yeah. I know it’s nice to not stress about it, but… I mean… look at you.” “I can’t. Too busy looking at you.” Castiel blushed a little. Dean took Castiel’s hand and tugged it upwards to show Castiel he wanted him to stand up. He wrapped his hands around his waist and brough him close. “Hey… about the sex thing… we can remedy the situation right now.” He kissed Castiel’s neck, pulling little grunts from him. “Mmmm I’d like that.” “Let’s get you comfortable on the sofa. I’ll take care of you.” Castiel wanted to undress Dean right now. “If I take care of you, it’s gonna put less strain on my injury.” Dean laughed. “Wow. Now it’s an injury.” “Well, it is. And you’re the one who keeps asking me about it.” Dean kissed Castiel. “Can we stop talking and start doing?” “Oh yes.” They walked awkwardly to the living room, kissing the whole way, laughing between kisses, their hands all over each other. When they got to the sofa, Castiel swung Dean into it. “Holy crap, you’re strong!” “Is that a bad thing?” Dean’s eyes were dark, his lips parted. “Um… no…” Castiel cupped Dean’s bulge and pressed a little. “Oh, it seems it’s not a bad thing indeed.” Dean whimpered. Castiel kissed Dean urgently, passionately, while he undid his pants. He slid his hand in his underwear to grab - BONK! BONK! BONK! BONK! Both men froze. Dean asked, “The fuck is that noise?”

On to chapter 7!

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Back to the Masterlist

#destiel fluff #destiel domestic fluff

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destiel-love-forever · 4 years

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15x09 CODA

Read below or on AO3 HERE

Dean knocks on the bedroom door, his left knee shaking as he stares down at his stupid bouquet of flowers. He had bought them at the time thinking it'd be funny. He hoped to lighten the mood. They just got back from getting a flower - an ugly, disgusting one. These would be better. It'd make Castiel smile.

Dean really wanted to make Castiel smile.

But the flowers are stupid and smooshed and Dean's an idiot. He shouldn't even be here. He just admitted to Cas his darkest fear - the anger that's always brewed inside him. The anger he's never been able to control. Why would he ever think Castiel would want him after that?

Just as Dean turns around, deciding this entire thing was a mistake, the bedroom door opens behind him.

"Dean?" Dean hangs his head, closing his eyes when he sees the damn flowers again. A tentative hand rests on his shoulder. "Dean..."

"Don't worry 'bout it."

"About what?"

Dean pulls away from Castiel's touch but doesn't leave.

He can't.

He also can't come up with a lie right now. Not with Castiel so close. Not when his brain is short-circuiting, refusing to focus on anything other than how close he just was to admitting his feelings to Castiel.

"Are those flowers?" Castiel asks softly.

Shit.

Dean glares at the bouquet where one of the white roses is smudged orange from the snapdragon crushed against it. He found it charming when Castiel had said he smooshed the blossom in Purgatory. He doubts this is charming.

Leave it to Dean Winchester to fuck up a simple love confession. All he had to do was keep the damn things intact for a car ride of three blocks and one set of stairs in the bunker.

"I got them for you," Dean eventually mumbles.

"May I-" Castiel pauses. Steps closer. Puts his hand on Dean's shoulder again. "May I see them?"

"Of course. They're yours."

The bad part of Dean turning to show Castiel the flowers is that it reveals Dean's blushing face.

The good part of Dean turning to show Castiel the flowers is that it somehow jogs his brain into functioning enough to lie.

"They're an apology." Yes. That's perfect. Dean stands up a little straighter and gives Castiel a semi-confident smile. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry, again. For… everything."

"Oh. Well, thank you. I love them."

"They're smooshed." Dean shrugs. "I sorta ruined 'em."

The small smile that pulls at Castiel's lips matches the one he gave Dean when he had handed him the blossom and declared that he smooshed it. Something flutters in Dean's heart at the idea that Castiel made the connection.

After a moment, Castiel shakes his head. He touches a fingertip to one of the peach lilies and flicks his gaze up to Dean. "They're beautiful."

Dean swallows the cheesy not as beautiful as you and says instead, "Anyway, it's late. Been a long day. I'll let ya sleep."

"Of course. Goodnight, Dean."

"Night, Cas."

When Dean turns away, he catches a glimpse of Castiel sniffing the flowers. It reminds him of those brides you always see smelling their flowers in wedding photos. Dean can almost picture that. Castiel in a tux, his hair a mess, his eyes as bright as the blue sky above them. Reading cheesy vows that would make Dean groan in embarrassment even though he secretly loves each word. Leaning in to smell his flowers just as the wedding photographer snaps a picture.

Dean realizes he's standing in place, openly staring over his shoulder at Castiel. When their eyes meet, both of them blushing, Castiel offers him a hopeful smile.

Dean looks down the hall again, toward his bedroom where he was headed a second ago. He tries to walk away. To leave Castiel with his flowers and the wrong impression. He really does.

But his feet don't move.

Screw it.

Dean pivots on one foot and looks at Castiel with wide eyes. The angel lowers his bouquet and tilts his head in that adorable way he always does. "Dean?"

"They aren't an apology."

"They - what?"

"The flowers. I got them for you but not to apologize."

Castiel laughs softly under his breath but it's not cruel or teasing. It's confused. Nervous. Tentative. "What for then?"

Now or never, Winchester.

Like a band-aid.

Just do it.

"I love you," Dean blurts out in a way that would surely be comedic if it wasn't him that had done it.

Castiel's lips part as he sucks in a breath. He glances at the flowers before raising his gaze to look at Dean. A giddy smile that Dean hasn't seen since Jack was alive makes its way across Castiel's chapped pink lips. "These flowers are of a romantic nature?"

Leave it to Castiel Novak to make romance sound robotic.

Dean rolls his eyes but smiles fondly. "Yes, Cas."

"I love you too, Dean."

The world shifts. "R - Really?"

Castiel nods rapidly. "Very much so."

Feeling slightly shocked - and extremely unworthy - all Dean can manage is a whispered, "Awesome."

"Do we go on a date now?"

The smile freezes on Dean's face as his heartbeat fills his ears. "We - I mean, I - if you… maybe?"

"Maybe?"

Dean clears his throat and tries again. "If you would be okay with it, yes. I - I'd like to take you on a date."

"I'd love that." Castiel beams at him for a moment before walking past him and down the hall. "Just let me find a vase for these! Then we can go."

Dean watches the angel disappear, feeling a bit off-center. He certainly hadn't meant for them to go on a date right now. It's nearly 2 a.m. They had an awful day. Castiel almost died. They failed at defeating Chuck. Dean's exhausted.

Well, he was a minute ago.

Now he’s wide awake.

Dean grabs his jacket and phone from his room, checking to make sure his keys and wallet are in the pockets of his coat. He heads to the kitchen as he hurriedly pulls up google on his phone. Two places are still open this late at night in Lebanon, Kansas.

A bar - the town's only one.

A bowling alley.

Dean slips his phone into his pocket as he formulates a plan. He's grinning hard enough for it to hurt, and it only gets worse when he walks into the kitchen to find Castiel gingerly guiding the stems of the flowers into an old Jack Daniels bottle now filled with water.

"Dude, flowers?" Sam teases Dean, looking just as hopelessly lovestruck as he holds Eileen in his lap. She had returned about an hour ago, unable to stay away from the one she loves - Chuck pulling the strings or not.

Dean understands the feeling.

"Don't judge my flowers," Dean says with a death glare.

"They're all broken and crushed."

Before Dean can argue, Castiel slides a hand into Dean's and grins at Sam. "They’re perfect. I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

Then Castiel turns and gives Dean a look that steals his breath. “You ready?”

“Ready for what?” Sam asks curiously.

“We’re going on a date,” Castiel says simply, eyes still on Dean.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“We’re not willing to wait,” Dean whispers. He gives Castiel a look of his own, loving the way Castiel’s eyes flare and his lips part. Sammy slips away. Eileen too. All that exists is Cas. “I’m ready.”

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#supernatural #coda #spn coda #season 15 #season 15 coda #15x09 #the trap #fluff #cute #happy boys

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scones-and-texting-and-murder · 4 years

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Sweater Weather

(AO3 link 2676 words, general audiences)

Written for the @holidaymixtape and featuring adorable art by @bs-acorns!

“They’re looking for a barista at the dog park,” Sam had said, a combination of words so nonsensical that Dean asked him if he’d hit his head.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I told you I’ve been taking Phoebe to the park.”

When Sam finally reached the point where he could get a dog, he’d gone right for a Great Dane, like he was making up for all his dogless years with the biggest one he could find. Next to most people, Great Danes seemed like miniature ponies, but Dean couldn’t deny that Phoebe looked perfectly proportional striding along his oversized, long-legged brother. Despite her size, she was the world’s biggest couch potato, sometimes sitting down on the sidewalk to declare herself done in the middle of walks. As it was nearly impossible to convince one hundred and twenty-five pounds of stubborn dog to do anything, Sam began exploring other options. In doing so, he discovered that taking her to a park resulted in her loping around, sniffing and peeing in a nearly infinite loop, getting some much-needed exercise without Sam needing to cajole her for blocks at a time.

Dean pretended like he wasn’t quite sure. “You mean the one where Eileen goes?”

Sam blushed and Dean smiled smugly, happy to see his big brother intuition hadn’t failed him. He’d been “casually mentioning” Eileen and her service dog with telling frequency.

That’s when Sam explained that there was a coffee shop on site at the park.

Before Dean applied for the job, he’d never considered the logic of a coffee shop/dog park combo, but the more he learned, the more sense it made. Dog people, it turned out, loved to socialize with other dog people, and they would stay at the same location for hours on end if their dogs were happy. If they could capitalize on that by selling hot drinks to cold people, then really, it was a win-win. And while Dean might not have been a dog person, he could chat up customers and make drinks like nobody’s business.

That had been a year ago. Now Sam and Eileen were making plans to move in together, and whereas Dean started out barely able to tell a bichon from a beagle, he was currently familiar with at least a half-dozen types of terrier. And while he’ll never admit it to anyone, one time he’d accurately identified a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, leaving him with the same self-congratulatory rush he imagined birders got when they added to their life lists.

Not only had Dean gotten familiar with the dogs, he’d gotten to know a number of the owners as well. Dean didn’t quite buy the theory that dogs and their owners started to resemble each other, but he couldn’t deny the perfect pairing of Garth with his tall, skinny whippet or Mildred, whose old poodle mix shared her grey curls and slow, stiff gait.

Then there was Cas.

He was tall and broad-shouldered with strong runner’s legs. He had wild dark hair that looked like he’d walked through a windstorm no matter the weather, and his eyes were an almost unearthly blue. Dean could see him with a husky maybe, or a chocolate lab that could run alongside him, its tongue hanging out as it easily kept pace.

Whatever Dean expected, it wasn’t a small and sturdy pug. The first time he’d shown up, Dean knelt down to greet the pup, and he’d asked--like he always did--the dog’s name. He made a point of trying to remember them because that was just good customer service.

Dean let the dog sniff his hand before running his palm over her short, smooth coat. Excited by the attention, the dog’s eyes bulged and it snorted through its pushed-in nose. Dean felt his own eyes widen in response and he used the opportunity to glance back up at the handsome owner. “What’s your dog’s name?”

The man took a moment to answer as he was busy gazing fondly at the snorting creature. “Zeus.”

Dean looked back at the dog who couldn’t weigh more than about twelve pounds, and laughed. “That’s hilarious.”

The man looked apologetic. “I didn’t name her.”

“No?” Dean tried not to think about the fact that he probably had an equally gorgeous girlfriend who’d bestowed the name.

“I acquired her from a rather unscrupulous breeder. It seemed wrong to change her name when everything else had been taken from her.” His brow furrowed in such a sorrowful way that suddenly a pug seemed like his perfect companion.

Dean got back to his feet. “Oh, wow. That’s great. That you rescued her, I mean.”

“Thank you,” he said with a sincerity that had Dean biting back a smile.

“Welcome to Pups and Cups.” Dean held out his hand. “I’m Dean.”

“Cas.”

Dean liked a lot of things about Cas. Like the way he kept close to Zeus in the park. Plenty of owners unclipped their dogs from the leash and settled down on a bench, but Cas moved slowly around the park with her, like he was worried the bigger dogs might get a little too rough. He liked the way Cas seemed oblivious to exactly good-looking he was, either missing out on (or not interested in) the way both men and women tried to strike up conversations with him. He liked that Cas had an earnestness about him that was oddly endearing, an almost shy formality that made each smile Dean got out of him extremely gratifying. It generally involved greeting Zeus, so Dean made a habit of addressing her and pretending to take her order before getting his. Maybe it was the predictability of the interaction, but Cas seemed to genuinely enjoy the joke. He’d give Dean that full-on smile, the real one where his eyes crinkled.

“Ask him out,” Charlie told him after he’d gone through this routine one day.

“I dunno.”

“Dean. You spent the last forty-five minutes with one eye on the door waiting for him to show up.”

“Keeping an eye out for new customers is an important part of the job.”

“You elbowed me out of the way to take his order.”

“I did not,” he insisted as she sadly rubbed her upper arm. “Wait, did I really?”

“Of course you didn’t.” She grinned, validated. “But clearly you didn’t consider it out of the realm of possibility. Oh hey, here he comes again.”

“Shut up,” he hissed at her as Cas made his way back into the coffee shop. “What’s up, Cas? Does Zeus need extra whip?” He ignored the soft groan Charlie made.

“Actually, Dean, I just wanted to let someone know that the poop bag dispenser is empty.”

“I’m on it. Thanks for letting me know.” Cas’s cheeks were pink from the cold December day. So were the tips of his ears. Something about it made his eyes look extra blue. Dean didn’t realize they were still standing and staring until he felt something whap him in the arm.

“Here you go, buddy. Why don’t you go take care of that right now?” Charlie gave him a faux innocent look and Dean looked down to find the package of refills in his hands. “I’ll watch the front.”

Charlie was the best friend Dean had ever had, and she was practically bouncing on her toes when he came back inside. “Well? Did you ask him?”

Dean shook his head. “Charlie, I’m the guy who makes him coffee and replaces the poop bags. I’m not a guy he’s looking to go out with.”

“Dean--” Charlie began, a soft look on her face that was worse than if she’d yelled at him.

“It’s fine.” He was saved from any further discussion when a group of people and dogs came in through the door.

***

As December progressed, Charlie continued encouraging him to ask Cas out and Dean continued to refuse. He was fine for dumb jokes and he knew he made a damn good latte, but Cas had a real job doing...something important. From time to time Dean overheard him take a work call on his cell phone and it was all I’ll get you the files and Let me run the numbers and other fancy shit that reminded Dean that Cas was out of his league.

It was all good. Dean could continue to look forward to the few moments when Cas had those blue eyes focused on him, he could take satisfaction in making him smile and presenting him with a hot drink on a cold day. He didn’t need more.

One afternoon, he was crouched down in front of the counter giving a handsome Shepherd mix named Otto his puppacino. Otto’s overly large dark ears perked up when Zeus bounded over to say hello. It was well past the time Cas usually showed, so Dean had assumed he wasn’t coming, but from the looks of her, today was clearly a special occasion. She was dressed in a red and green Christmas sweater, adorned with a dog wearing sparkly green slippers and a candy-striped elf hat.

“Well, look at you!” Dean said, as she pushed her snout into his waiting hand. He got to his feet, laughing in delight when he realized Cas was wearing a matching sweater. “You guys been to an ugly sweater party or what?”

The familiar smile didn’t cross Cas’s face. If anything he looked more serious, his head tipping to the side. “Why do you ask?”

“Uh,” Dean said, praying for the floor to open beneath him. Or for the espresso maker to explode and vaporize him where he stood. Anything.

“Oh,” Cas said, as if it suddenly all made sense, and Dean thought maybe he’d be able to breathe again. He pointed to his sweater. “Maybe you didn’t realize that this is a pug.”

Dean looked more closely. It was indeed a pug. A pug, wearing an elf hat adorned with sparkly pom poms perched on a shiny red and green striped present. If that weren’t gaudy enough, green and red satin bows were scattered across the sweater.

Cas smoothed his hand over his chest in a most distracting way. “It’s even a girl! See?”

“A tutu,” Dean said, not sure if he was going to laugh or cry. “She’s...wearing a tutu.” And she was indeed, made of bright red netting.

“It’s our first Christmas together.” His eyes were shining.

Charlie, who had apparently witnessed this entire debacle, came to his rescue. “Dean, could you please. Get that thing. From the back.”

Gratefully Dean nodded. “Yeah. Sure.” In the back he stood with his forehead against the cold stainless steel of the refrigerator, trying to let it soothe the embarrassment that heated his face.

A few minutes later, Charlie poked her head through the door. “The coast is clear.”

Dean thumped his head once against the fridge before straightening up. Charlie watched him, concern in her eyes as he came back out. “What do I do?”

“I...don’t think he’s upset?” Charlie glanced out the window to where Cas was doing his normal route following Zeus around the park.

“Yeah, but he thought I was making fun of him.”

“That’s because you were.”

“What was I supposed to think?” The embarrassment was making him defensive, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Who would wear a sweater like that sincerely?” Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “I fucked this up.”

“I have an idea,” Charlie said.

***

The next day she arrived with a large shopping bag. They were still thirty minutes from opening and she pulled him into the back.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

She nodded decisively. “I’m absolutely positive that it won’t make things worse.”

“That’s not exactly...reassuring.”

“Look, Dean. If you don’t want him to think you were making fun of him, then you have to put your money where your mouth is.” She reached into the bag. “Speaking of, you owe me $24.99.”

“He won’t be in until this afternoon. Can’t I put it on then?”

“No way. For this to work, you need to wear it unironically all day.”

Dean pulled off his outer layer and took a deep breath before pulling the sweater over his head. ”Not a word.”

In a flash, Charlie had her phone out to snap a picture. “You’re a hero.” She moved closer to show him. The bright red sweater was dominated by a large Christmas tree made from those sequins that changed color when flipped over. Next to the Christmas tree was a pug wearing a Christmas sweater of its own. In large letters under the tree it said BAH HUM PUG.

Dean took in a long, slow breath through his nose.

“He’s gonna love it,” Charlie said, using two fingers to flip the sequins.

He pushed her hand away. “Consent is a thing. I gotta get to work.”

All morning long Dean dealt with amused looks and a variety of snarky comments.

“You lose a bet?” he muttered as sarcastically as possible with his back turned to the counter after hearing it for the umpteenth time. The more people gave him shit--little joking comments that shouldn’t have meant anything but that built up over time until he was ready to substitute decaf in all their fucking high maintenance orders--the more defensive he got, going from shrugging apologetically and trying to laugh along, to glaring, his chest puffed out like a soldier. Why the fuck shouldn’t he be able to wear whatever he wanted without people making disparaging comments? It was an object lesson in...what did Sam call them? Microaggressions. He was making a mental note to text his brother and let him know he finally understood when Cas and Zeus came in.

Now the shyness that he’d started his shift with washed over him again. What if Cas didn’t notice, or what if he thought Dean was making fun of him. Again. He heard Charlie murmur “Here we go,” as she moved into place to take over the customer ahead of Cas.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. “Did you get a new sweater?”

“Heya, Cas. I did.” Dean knew this was the whole point, but he felt self-conscious and couldn’t seem to keep from rushing to take his order. “You want your usual?”

But Cas was still staring at his chest and a small smile had crossed his face. As Dean watched, he disappeared out of view, popping up a moment later with Zeus in his arms. “Look, baby,” he practically cooed in his rough, deep voice. “It’s a pug just like you.”

Dean stood a little taller, tugging at the front of his sweater like it would help her see better.

“May I?” Cas asked, nodding toward Dean.

“Uh, sure?” Dean wasn’t quite sure what he was agreeing to, but cradling the dog in one arm, Cas reached out and smoothed a hand over the sequins on his chest. Dean’s mouth went suddenly dry. Cas’s hand was a firm presence, warm even through the sweater. He stroked up and down, evidently delighted. Zeus snorted and pressed her nose under Cas’s chin.

It was now or never.

“Would you like to go out some time?” It came out in a rush, Dean almost breathless with nerves and Cas’s palm on his chest.

Cas went still but he didn’t drop his hand. His blue eyes widened in surprise. “I would love to.”

“Cool,” Dean said. “Cool. Ok. We’ll do that.” They stood and smiled at each other until the customer behind Cas cleared his throat. “Let me get your coffee.” This time Dean carefully wrote his number on the cup.

***

A few months later, Cas and Zeus showed up in matching red sweaters. Each one had a shiny satin pink heart with an applique of a pug in the center. In big letters were the words Pugs and Kisses. “It’s our first Valentine’s Day together,” he explained to Charlie, after giving Dean a quick kiss.

Dean was already wearing his.

#deancas #destiel #ugly holiday sweaters #cas + dogs #coffee shop au #2019 spn holiday mixtape #my writing

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

Text

Baker of All the Cookies in the Universe

Summary/Spoilers: Dean and Cas cry in their kitchen because they love their son too much, and Dean would like to be called Deanathon.

***

“I love you.”

Cas feels warm, familiar hands turning him around, and then Dean wraps them around his waist, pulling him closer with twinkling eyes. His entire face is lit up with a bright smile, and it’s doing wonderful things to Cas’s insides.

“You’re back soon,” Cas says, mirroring the smile, and slinging his own arms around Dean. He likes indulging Dean’s good spirits whenever he can, and Dean makes it easy anyways. His husband is not prone to a grumpy disposition, but he’s rarely hug-his-husband-hello-in-the-middle-of-the-day happy.

Kissing’s different, though.

“I had to be,” Dean answers, the smile seeming to seep into his voice. “Once I’d dropped the little munchkin off at Jody’s, I drove straight home. I had to tell you about this.”

If his voice weren't so joyful, Cas would've worried.

But he just raises his eyebrows, and Dean lets go of him, only to start prancing around the room as he speaks.

“Baking, Cas. That’s all I was up to!” He absentmindedly puts a knife out on the counter back in it’s stand, as he passes the slab where Cas had been making lunch. Babyproofing has become a muscle response. “And it’s not even like I planned it out! I wouldn’t have Jack’s first cookie-bake without you.”

Cas agrees, Dean wouldn’t, and nods. Dean’s been incredibly thoughtful about these things. Jack’s firsts, each one of them.

Cas loves that about him, more than he can express.

“I swear, all I did was think of baking a batch of chocolate chip for him to take to his playdate. Gentlemanly, and sweet. You’ve gotta get these values in at a young age, you know,” Dean rambles on, happily wandering off topic, until Cas urges him to proceed with the story, with an insistent tilt of his head.

Because as much as Cas’d like to hear Dean go off on the importance of chivalry being instilled in their son at the age of four, on any given day, he wants to hear what happened next, with his two favorite people in the whole world.

“I didn’t even know he was looking at me the entire time, Cas!” Dean excitedly declares, stopping right in front of his husband. “I thought he was playing with his word blocks, you know, those large unswallowable ones Sammy got him for Christmas! But guess not.” Dean beams, looking proud of himself. “Kid was more interested in watching me bake!”

“Did he help you?” Cas contributes, dimpling. Dean’s enthusiasm has always been contagious. Something about the eyes.

“No,” Dean waves his hand, dismissively. “I was already done, when I realized. Was taking out a tray, when he suddenly pipes up like, ‘Dean, are those cookies?’” Here, Dean slips into his best impression of Jack’s childish, high-pitched treble. “And I go, yeah buddy, you want one, and he goes, ‘but wasn't it all just white stuff in bowls before’, and I swear, Cas, he sounds so wonderstruck, like it’s magic, and I just -” Dean makes a giddy sound. Cas waits for him to at least finish the sentence, but all Dean manages is a sigh. “He’s perfect,” he ends up moving closer to Cas again.

This time, Cas does the hugging, tugging him close. “Oh, Dean.”

“And that’s not even the best part!” Dean gushes, and that’s the only word that can describe it.

His eyes still twinkle, and Cas wonders if they’re shining with happy tears. For the millionth time, Cas thinks about how incredibly lucky he is. He loves Dean so much - this breathtaking, kind man who can keep his calm through the worst things in life, lose so much and not break down, but also have tears in his eyes from a moment shared with his son. Cas is so, so grateful to have him in his life.

Dean goes on, unaware of how he’s making Cas’s heart sing with just his perfectly euphoric smile. “And when I tell him that that’s just how baking tends to go, he just goes, eyes all wide and baby blue like yours,” He does his Jack-voice again, softer. “‘Dean, do other people know about this?’ And I’m just like - I just - fuck, Cas, I love him so much.”

For the second time, Cas is robbed of the rest of the sentence, as Dean cuts himself off to bury his face in Cas’s shirt. Cas, in turn, gently puts his chin on Dean’s head, morphing it into a hug again. As Cas starts to fondly card his fingers through Dean’s hair, blond in the light of the kitchen, he keeps speaking.

“I don't know exactly why, but it just got to me, Cas. It hit home.” He mumbles, refreshingly confessive. “Maybe it was how he genuinely thought I was the only person who could bake, ever, or - you know what, I know he’s had cookies before, so just the fact that he had no idea how they’re made! He’s just - he’s so little, Cas, he’s so young, and he didn't even hesitate to think that I baked all the cookies in the entire world, and he’s just going to grow up to be so wonderful, Cas,” Dean’s voice seriously begins to quiver. Cas squeezes, tighter. “And we get to see it happen, Cas, and we get to make it happen. We’re going to raise him! We get to raise a kid, and we -”

He suddenly goes completely silent, and then there’s a mortified muffled choking sound, and Cas is almost entirely sure Dean’s trying to hold back a sob in his throat, and it’s just such an emotional moment, that all Cas can do is squeeze his own eyes shut and hug Dean close. If anyone ever did, he knows what Dean’s feeling.

“I had no idea before, did you,” Dean starts, with new resolve. His voice is a little garbled, because his words are uttered right into Cas’s sweater. “Mostly I was just excited for you, Cas. And of course, it'd be nice to have a little kid, someone who’ll call me dad. But I never realized all the other moments I was going to get, and all the other times he was going to make me happy - happy enough to cry, goddammit -” And his voice trails off again, swearing under his breath till he’s only just shaking in Cas’s arms, the overpowering emotion of crying subsiding, and Cas thinks he can hear Dean wiping his face with Cas’s sweater a moment later, but it’s okay.

Everything’s okay.

In fact, he’d even go as far as to say that everything’s perfect.

“Thank you for making me realize how much I wanted this, Cas,” Dean says, in a relatively mellow tone now, having shed off the high with the tears. But he still sounds blissed out, and peaceful, and it’s heavenly to hear. “Thank you for suggesting we adopt. And to be completely honest, I won’t ever thank you for convincing me to do it, 'cause I may be a dumbass in general, but it hasn't gotten to the point where you’d have to convince me into being the happiest man on the planet.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes out, pressing a kiss on his forehead as Dean pulls away, and straightens.

“But thank you for reminding me of what I’ve always, always wanted,” Dean repeats, staring into Cas’s eyes with such unbridled love, that Cas feels himself start to blush. “And thank you for getting it for us.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Cas returns, earnestly. “The two of you are the best things that ever happened to me, Dean. And I’m very thankful to the Universe too, and to you.” He has to pause, starting to feel his throat clog up as well, and Dean seems to sense this and puts a hand on Cas’s arm to comfort him, but it ends up wrecking him weaker because Dean cares so much, and just like that, a tear slips from his eye and Dean’s eyes are glittering again.

Crap, they’re so goddamn soft. They’re tearing up in the kitchen of their house in th suburbs, about cookies and children.

It doesn’t get any more domestic than this.

“And I’ve got to say,” Cas adds, after a beat, when they’re both more composed. “I’m sorry for you, that Jack doesn’t call you dad, if that was the primary driving force in the first place.” Dean tries to deny it, but Cas keeps going, half kidding. “On my part, I’m perfectly content with him calling us by our first names, but we could try to get him to call us dad if you’d like -”

“I don't need him to.” Dean laughs out, breathlessly happy. “He can call me Dean, or he can call me Dad, it doesn’t matter to me anymore. We don't have to get him to do anything about that, Cas. I love things the way they are.”

“If you’re sure,” Cas grins.

“Plus, if I got promoted to Dad, and you were Cas, it would totally seem like you were Jack's gorgeous single parent's boyfriend, and -”

“Excuse me,” Cas interrupts. “I don't think you get it. If you become Dad, I’m totally becoming Daddy.” He pauses. “Or wait, let’s consider this. What are your thoughts on being married to Jack’s Papa, Dean?”

“Hard pass.” Dean throws back, and Cas rolls his eyes.

“In any case,” He adds, shrugging, and still grinning. The heavy moment is all but gone, but the happy stays. “The only reason he doesn’t call either of us Dad, is only because our names are too easy. Dean, Cas, and Dad have equal number of syllables.” He crosses his hands on his chest. “So, I’m choosing to blame you and your obsession with shortening my name for the situation we’re in.”

Dean hums, pretending to be thoughtful. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m okay with calling you Castiel if you call me Deanert. Or better, Deanolas.”

Cas bursts out laughing at the latter, and pulls Dean back in, this time for a kiss.

“Don't like it? Fine, guess you get the right to veto.” Dean chuckles, right before Cas closes the gap. “What about Deanathon?”

And then Cas does the equivalent of shutting him up with a kiss, cupping his face and closing his eyes till the residue of Dean’s laughter has dissolved into a grin so wide it splits his face, and Cas gets to taste his happiness - and he gets to wake up next to him, and be married to him, and raise Jack with him, and he doesn’t need anything else to be happy.

So, Cas finally replies to the statement Dean had begun with, in the first place, just shifting the emphasis.

"I love you."

They move things out of the kitchen eventually, and end up making out on the living room sofa until Jody and Claire come to drop Jack back home.

The first thing Cas says to his son, when he enters, is that his Papa can bake too.

#destiel #deancas #destiel fluff #fluffy destiel #dean winchester #castiel/dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #jack is destiel's kid #adoption #married destiel #just so soft #fanfiction fluff destiel #supernatural #not spoilers #destiel hug

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nickelkeep · 4 years

Text

What I Thought I Knew

Pairings: Dean/Cas, minor Jody/Donna Rating: Mature - Language and a small mention of drug use. Word Count: 7500 Warnings: There is a kiss that is of dubious consent, as it comes out of the blue. On Ao3

Dean's elbows deep in the Roadrunner Bobby has him working on when his phone goes off. The ringtone tells him immediately that it's his other boss from his other job, Jody. She knows he works two jobs, and that the garage is the better paying one, but for her to be calling, something big must be going on. Dean makes sure that nothing is going to fall, come loose, or hit him on the head before he wipes his hands on his jeans and reaches into his pocket.

He answers the call, forcing his tone to sound chipper. "Jodio, what's happening?"

"Look, I know you're supposed to be at the shop until 7, but I just lost Benny. Andrea's gone into labor. This is a high-class job; I need one of my high-class guys to fill in."

"Hate to break it to you, Jody, you're not calling the right person for high class." Dean tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder and leans back under the hood. "I'm sure you can get one of the ladies to do it."

"Dean, she requested good looking men," Jody admits, a tone of shame in her voice. "You know I hate pandering to that kind of shit, but–"

"But business has been slow. I get it." He lets out a heavy sigh as he already knows that he's going to regret the next words out of his mouth. "When's it start?"

"Her party starts in fifteen minutes. Foodservice starts in forty-five. I know I'm asking a lot, I'll give you time and a half to make up what you'll lose. I'll call Bobby. Please, Dean."

"Let me get this car safe, so nothing falls out overnight, and I'll head out. Call Bobby; that way, he doesn't yell at me?"

Jody breathes out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, Dean. I'll call Bobby now." The call disconnects, and Dean's left wondering what the hell just happened before he pockets his phone and tightens up a couple more nuts.

Dean closes the hood and walks into Bobby's office, where his uncle is on the phone. "You and Donna owe me, Jody. Dean's my best mechanic." Bobby looks up and holds up a finger. "He just walked in. I'm kicking him out to go clean up. He's a greased up hog right now."

"Rude."

"Of course, Jody. I always take bribes in booze and pie." Bobby chuckles. "No, I'm not where Dean gets that from, and even if I were, that makes us cheap dates. Talk to you later." Bobby hangs up his phone and looks at Dean. "You sure you want to go?"

Dean rolls his eyes and throws his rag in the designated hamper. "I'm sure Jody told you the exact opposite."

"'Course she did, ya Idjit. But you're a sucker for her just like I am, just like Donna is." Bobby grabs up a folder and taps it before sliding it into a desk drawer. "Whatcha waitin' for? Get out of here and go be the playboy she needs you to be."

"Got it, Bobby." Dean salutes before turning and walking back out of the office. He stops by his locker to grab his jacket, stopping to wave goodbye to Ash and Garth, and heads out to the Impala.

A quick stop at home to get clean and dress up in his godforsaken monkey suit, and Dean's on his way to the party that Jody's catering. He pulls up to the venue and drives around back to where staff and temporary staff park and hops out of his car, quickly taking the familiar route to the kitchen.

"Not bad, Dean-O." Donna winks at him as he comes around the corner. "Thank you for showing up on such short notice."

"Yeah, yeah. You two know how it works. Booze and Pie." Dean looks around. "Where's Jody?"

As if on cue, Jody strides back into the kitchen, her shoulders tight. She sees Dean and relaxes, if only slightly, before coming in to hug him. "I am so sorry to ask you to do this, Dean." She backs up and straightens his tie. "You know Benny and Andrea weren't expecting the baby for another week or so."

"Yeah, you guys getting updates from them?"

Donna nods. "On the half-hour. You would think he's a first-time parent or something." She laughs at her joke, causing Dean and Jody to laugh with her.

"Dean, I need to warn you. The host is not happy right now." Jody gently pats down the lapels on his waistcoat and looks him in the eye. "Andy's out there doing his best, as are Victor and Aaron, but I need you to up your charm to eleven."

"I can do a pretty sweet Spinal Tap impression." Dean winks at her.

"Screw you, Winchester. You know what I mean."

Dean smiles fondly at her, trying to calm her nerves. "I do. What do I need to know about our host?"

"Bela Talbot. Heiress to the Talbot Estate. They're a huge shipping conglomerate." Jody leans in. "Rumor that the boys have heard is that she's supposed to be looking for a husband tonight. Otherwise, she doesn't get her share of the fortune."

"Doesn't explain why she wants good looking men tonight."

"She wants to show off her wealth, sweetie." Donna pipes up. "I have more charm in my pinky. So she figures money will get her a catch."

Jody picks up a tray filled with their famous crab puffs and hands it to Dean. "This way, you won't snack while you walk around." She pats his shoulder. "Just use that charm you use when you go to the bar, and who knows, maybe she'll find appeal in the lower people."

"Yeah, ok." Dean snorts. He gives Jody and Donna a salute before pushing open the double doors to exit the kitchen. As he walks down the hallway that connects to the ballroom, he can already hear the high priced sounds of an overpaid DJ, the technobabble of the music not to his taste.

Dean's eyebrows raise at all the people milling around. Jody's crew has done numerous parties here, but never to a crowd this large. He takes in a deep breath and plasters on his best fake smile before weaving into the group with his tray.

He gets about halfway through the room before his tray is picked clean, and he sets it down at his side, indicating that he's empty. Dean hasn't even spotted the rest of the crew and wonders if he's ever going to get a chance to find them when a sharp poke on his shoulder causes him to wince and turn around.

"Just where do you think you're going?" The cold British accent demands.

"Back to the kitchen to get a fresh tray of hors d'oeurves, ma'am." He smiles and bows his head slightly. "I'll be right back."

"I didn't say you could leave the floor." The brunette looks him up and down. "Who are you? You didn't come in with the original crew."

"I'm one of the waiters for the catering crew. I wasn't scheduled to work, but I came in last minute to cover for a coworker." Dean tilts his head slightly in confusion. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get a chance to look over the guest list. Who are you?"

The woman in front of him scoffs, and her eyes turn dark with anger. "You think I'm a guest?" She squares her shoulders and pushes into Dean's personal space. "I'm the person paying your paycheck right now."

"My apologies, Miss Talbot." Dean nods his head in apology. "Descriptions don't give your beauty justice."

"Wiseass." Bela grabs him by the tie and pulls him down to her level. "You're late to my party, you insult me, and then think you can worm your way out of it with a fake affection?" She stares at him, her eyes shooting daggers. "You are a worm, and you should be grateful that I'm even allowing you to stay."

Dean's lips press into a firm, hard-line. "Again, my apologies."

"Your boss will hear of this insolence." Bela slowly eyes him up and down. "Good thing you're pretty, I'd have you escorted off the premises now." She turns and walks away, stopping to look over her shoulder. "When you do come back to the floor, do bring more of those crab puffs, and find me immediately." She waves Dean off and focuses her attention on another gentleman.

Dean rolls his eyes and turns to go back to the kitchen when his eyes lock on a guy across the room. He has dark, messy hair and eyes that cannot possibly be so blue. He stares for a moment, ripping his eyes away only when he realizes the other guy has caught him staring. Dean blushes and rushes back into the kitchen.

"Jody, how long are we supposed to be here for?" Andy's leaning on one of the prep tables when Dean gets back in the kitchen. "Cause I swear on Nietzsche's grave, I will go batshit if my ass gets grabbed again."

"At least you didn't accidentally ask the Host who she is." Dean set his tray in front of Donna. "Request for more of the crab bites from the bitch herself."

Jody looks back and forth between the two before looking at Donna. "I'm sorry, guys." She starts to say something when Aaron walks back in and slams his tray on the table.

"Whoever said that Satan was evil, has not met that woman." Aaron walks over to Dean and greets him. "Sorry you're here, dude, but I am glad to see you."

"He didn't stand a chance either, Aaron." Andy looks over. "I failed, you failed, and Dean failed."

"Victor hasn't come back yet, you know." Donna starts placing crab puffs on Dean's tray. "Maybe he's had some luck."

Jody points at Donna as Victor walks back into the kitchen, a smug smile on his face. "What canary did you eat, Vic?"

"I have gotten the phone numbers of several extremely attractive ladies." He reaches into his waistcoat pocket and pulls out four pieces of paper. "And one decent looking guy, not my type, though." He hands the slip to Dean, who slaps it away.

"I'm here to work, dumbass." Dean rolls his eyes. "Has the Queen Bee not gotten to you yet?"

"Nope." Victor grabs Dean's tray and walks towards the door. "I see her coming, and I keep walking."

Dean looks at the prep table then looks at Victor before flipping him off. "That's my tray!"

"Dean, take this one." Donna slides one with meatballs on it over to him. "Remember, that bitch was looking for the crab puffs. She'll go after him." Donna winks at Dean, who lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Guys, I promise I will make this up to you. We're here for another two hours. Smiles, flirt, be eye candy for the ladies, cause let's face it, she wants the male attention on her, and if her female guests are staring at you.."

Dean, Aaron, and Andy all grumble in agreement, and Dean heads back out to the ballroom.

"Dean!" Jody calls out after him. "Don't spill anything on Miss Talbot!"

Back in the multitude of the crowd, Dean expertly weaves his way through the groups of people, stopping briefly to allow them to grab a meatball or two off of his tray. He keeps his best crowd-pleasing smile on, and a few of the ladies do start to flirt with him.

Like Victor, he ends up with a couple of their numbers shoved into his pocket. He smiles at each lady despite feeling dirtier each time he's looked at, talked to, or even pawed on. He looks toward the kitchen, finding a clear path and turns to head back, needing a moment away from the idiots on the floor.

As Dean gets nearer to the kitchen, he's stopped by a very gentle tap on the arm. He turns around to present the tray, and he comes face to face with the blue-eyed guy from earlier. Dean sucks in a breath and takes him in for a moment, now that he can see him up close and personal.

Blue-eyes is wearing an AC/DC shirt underneath a well-fitting blazer, and a nicely tight-cut pair of slacks. The eyes that were insanely blue from a distance are even more spectacular and otherworldly. Dean has to rip his eyes away to focus on making words.

"These are Rosemary Thyme... uh," Dean stumbles over his words slightly. "Sorry. These are balsamic glazed, Rosemary and Thyme meatballs, made from lamb and pork."

Blue-eyes smiles at Dean, and Dean nearly melts on the spot. "Delicious." The stranger grabs one by the toothpick and pops it into his mouth, Dean watching it intently. "The meatball was good too."

Dean swallows hard before feeling a shove knocking him back. "I'm so sorry, is the kitchen staff bothering you?"

Bela.

"Shall we go somewhere more quiet to talk?" Bela slides her arm into Blue-eyes' and pulls him away, bringing Dean back to reality.

Dean stops in the kitchen and drops off his tray, telling Donna that he needs a minute, and to fill it back up while he takes a quick break. He peeks back out the double doors and heads towards the restroom, hugging tightly to the wall to not be stopped by someone looking for staff.

He slides into the restroom without a hitch and takes a moment to look himself over in the mirror. Dean knew that when he told Jody yes that this would be a rough night. He turns the cold water on and splashes his face, trying to relieve the redness and the puffiness starting to form around his eyes.

Dean grabs a towel from the dispenser and dries his face, taking another look in the mirror. "You're nothing to these people, Dean," he whispers to the mirror. The door to the bathroom opens, and he jumps, figuring that the guests would have the main one at the front of the venue.

"I thought I saw you sneak in here." The deep, gravelly voice that had managed to rattle him in six words, cause him to look up. "I apologize for Bela's behavior. She's quite rude and off-putting."

"She had you wrapped around her finger easy enough, though."

Blue-eyes nods. "It would appear that way, yes. Trust me when I say that I was caught off guard as much as you were."

"I don't know you to trust you, Buddy." Dean finishes drying off his hands and throws the paper towel into the trash. "So, forgive me if I'll pass." Dean attempts to walk past Blue-eyes when that same gentle touch catches his arm.

"Please, let me show you? I want nothing more than to make up for Bela's idiocy and poor manners."

Dean shakes his head and, despite not wanting to, tugs his arm back. "That's up to her to correct. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work. Us little people can't keep the rest of you waiting, can we?" He walks out of the bathroom and hightails it back to the kitchen."Your tray is ready, Big D." Donna nods towards the tray sitting in front of her. "All fresh. The rest are on a plate over there for you and the boys to snack on."

"I can't."

"Dean?" Jody walks out of the small office to the side after hearing Dean's assertion. "What happened?"

"It's too much, ok?" Dean looks at Donna. "I'm sorry, Donna, but can you please take this tray? I'll take over prep for a bit. Then I should be ok to go."

Donna starts to nod, but Jody holds her hand up. "Nuh-uh, Winchester. You don't get like this. You look like a caged animal right now. What happened?"

"They're drinking more, and they're getting worse. I wouldn't be surprised when Aaron and Andy come back if they say they're done." Dean reaches into the pockets of his waistcoat, and then his back pocket. He drops several crumbled pieces of paper on the prep table. "They're handsy; they're not respecting personal space." He runs his fingers through his hair. "For fuck's sake, Jody, I was talking to a guest about the meatballs, and that Bela Bitch practically tackled me cause it was a guy that she's clearly marked for herself."

"She did what?" Jody's eyes light up in anger. "I believe you 100%, but please tell me who saw it."

Dean looks at Donna, who shakes her head and points at Jody. "The guy who she grabbed and pulled away from me after she shoved me. He's about my height, messy dark hair, blue eyes." Dean pauses, hoping that's enough from him, but Jody gestures for him to continue. "He's wearing an AC/DC shirt under a blazer. He's the only guy I saw doing something like that. Most of them are trussed up."

"Got it. You two stay here. I'm sending the rest of the boys back." Jody turns and heads out to find Dean's mystery blue-eyed guy.

Donna pats the stool next to her. "Come here, Dean." She waits until she's seated next to him and hands him a spinach puff. "Don't worry, seafood free." She smiles at him."I know this has been a shit night for you and the rest of the guys. Jody's been back here, dotting her Is and crossing her Ts to make sure Bela can't hire anyone from the area again."

"Good lot that does to help us." Dean leans forward, resting his elbows on the prep table. "Bela finds that out, she'll deny payment."

"Hence why–" Donna's cut off by Andy and Victor entering the kitchen. "Aaron behind you two?"

Victor nods. "I think so. Jody got to us first." He set his tray down on the table and sat down across from Dean. "What's going on?"

"The big bitch shoved Dean here." Donna moves to start packing up the remaining ingredients. "She's just collaborating his story to cover our asses, and then we're getting out of here."

"Seriously?" Andy perks up and walks over to Donna. "What can I do to help?"

Donna laughs and shows Andy items to pack up. While they work on cleaning up, Aaron bounds into the kitchen. "Jody says she's giving us a five-minute head start. Something about confirmation that Dean was attacked?"

"You two just going to stand there?" Donna snaps at Victor and Dean. "You too, Aaron, she wants us to pack up the van to haul ass out of here. She doesn't think Bela's going to take it well when we bail."

The boys quickly help Donna break down and pack up their gear. As they're about halfway through, Jody enters the kitchen with a massive grin on her face. "Ready to go?"

...

A week later, Dean meets up at Jody and Donna's to pick up his paycheck. Jody greets him happily and brings him into their kitchen to enjoy one of Donna's pies while they chat about the party.

"We haven't had any issue. We didn't charge her for the last hour of the event. But, we still charged her for all the ingredients and the setup and breakdown fees." Jody sets a beer in front of Dean. "She's paid for everything we've asked."

"How the hell did that happen?" Dean asks, gratefully sipping the beer.

Donna sits across the table from Dean, chuckling. "You and I both know Jodes has a way with words."

"So, why am I sitting here and why you two look like you're buttering me up?" Dean looks back and forth between the two. "Are you letting me go?"

"No." Jody rolls her eyes. "We have another gig, and we want you there. I already cleared the date with Bobby, but he said to make sure you want to work it first."

"And we could really, really use you. It's another big-name client." Donna adds.

Dean drains his beer and shakes his head. "Call me when it's a small wedding or something."

"Dean, they offered three times our normal rate." Jody advertised. "Including bonuses for any staff we bring. That could be the last bit you need to pay for Sam's last year at school."

"I don't like being treated like shit or an object, Jody."

"And you won't be," Donna affirms. "The person who hired us? They have a full security detail. We're catering at their house, and they won't hesitate to kick out anyone. They promised us."

Jody nods in agreement. "We let them know our concerns."

"Come on, Big D!" Donna leans across the table and playfully punches Dean in the shoulder. "We need you."

The next week, Dean shows up to the "house" following the directions Jody and Donna gave him. He pulls up, and a friendly staff member tells him where he can park as a member of the Catering Staff. He pulls into a spot behind the mansion and is quickly shown the way to the kitchens.

Andy's already helping Donna fill the first tray, and Jody is excitedly talking on the phone to someone. Jody sees Dean and smiles, holding up her finger. "Alright, Benny. Take care, give Andrea all our love and kisses to the little bean!" She hangs up the phone. "Alright, you two are my only servers tonight. There are only about 40 people here per our host."

"Yeah, who is this host?" Andy looks up from the tray he's loading. "Neither of you have said anything."

"It's the Philanthropist, Castiel Novak!" Jody is practically vibrating, and Donna lovingly rolls her eyes. When the guys don't share her enthusiasm, she frowns. "Really, you two?"

"Not much of a philanthropist if Dean nor I have heard of him." Andy winks at Donna.

"Dean? You don't know who he is?" Jody's face drops in shock. "Are you two serious?"

Dean shakes his head, confirming Andy's statement. "I have no idea who this dude is."

"Uh-huh." Jody crosses her arms over her chest. "Well then, you're in for a pleasant surprise, Dean."

"I don't like surprises, Jodes." Dean looks at Donna. "Anything I can do to help get ready?"

Donna pushes a tray at Dean. "Nope. You can start serving. That'll be Andy's tray if he stops eating every other one." Donna swats at Andy's hand.

"Show me the way, Jody?" Dean gestures toward the kitchen exit before picking up his tray and following.

"Dean?" Jody stops him before he walks out to the main room. She fixes his tie and straightens his lapels. "Thank you for coming. I know how hesitant you were." She leans up and kisses his cheek. "Award-winning smile, okay?"

Dean nods and heads out to the guests, plastering on the smile Jody requested. He weaves his way among them and finds them strangely friendly and pleasant. His tray clears out quickly, and no one is rude to him or yells at him for being out of hors d'oeuvres.

As he makes his way back to the kitchen, a fiery redhead catches his attention and waves. He holds his tray up to show that it's empty, and she shakes her head and laughs, excusing herself through the crowd. "Hi, sorry, didn't mean to confuse there. I'm Charlie. Charlie Bradbury."

"Not to be mean, but I have no idea if that's supposed to mean something?" Dean grimaces at the fact that he has to admit that he doesn't know who she is, and reminds himself to grab a guest sheet from Jody if she has one.

"Oh please, if you know who I am, I've screwed up royally." Charlie smiles, and Dean finds himself smiling despite himself. "Just checking in. Everything ok with you and the rest of your team?"

Dean looks around the room before looking back at Charlie. "It's not my team. The company is Jody's and Donna's second-in-command." He holds the tray across his chest. "Why do you ask?"

"I know that, Dean. Just making sure no one is harassing you or Andy." She smiles and winks.

"I know for a fact that I didn't tell you my name."

Charlie winks again, exaggerating it this time. "And you didn't have to. I'm Castiel's head of security. I know everyone's face, name, favorite color. No one gets in here without me knowing who they are."

"My favorite color?" Dean questions skeptically.

"Green. Although you're also partial to purple." She snaps and points at Dean.

Dean looks around again. "Am I on Candid Camera?"

"Nope, I'm just very good at my job." Charlie gestures towards the kitchen. "Let's get that tray refilled. I've heard amazing things about the spinach puffs you guys make."

"So, uh. Can I ask you a question?" Dean looks over to Charlie as they walk back towards the kitchen. "Who is your boss?"

"Cas?" Charlie pauses for a moment. "He's an amazing, down to earth guy. He was born into dirty money but did everything to turn it around and make it clean. Cas gives away most of his profits to charity each year, and he doesn't brag about it. Most of the things he does, you wouldn't know unless you follow who he assists."

The pair enters the kitchen, and Dean sets his tray in front of Donna. "Request for the spinach puffs, D-Train."

Donna nods. "I see you met Charlie."

"Just met, actually." Charlie smiles. "If I can just steal a couple of puffs for myself, you can put whatever you want on that tray."

"Consider it done." Donna places a few on a plate and slides them over to Charlie.

"Thank you!" Charlie takes a bite and moans happily. "These are freaking delicious. No wonder Castiel wanted you guys for this!" She finishes the puff and looks back at Dean. "So, two jobs, right? You work at Singer Auto Shop full time, and then help out Jody and Donna when they need servers?"

"Did you run full background checks!?"

"Yes!" Donna and Jody reply before Charlie can.

Charlie nods in confirmation. "What they said. I'm just a little more in-depth."

"So, why am I getting the third degree if you already know what my answers are?" Dean crosses his arms over his chest.

"Gotta protect my best friend." Charlie shrugs. A voice calls from the main room, and her head snaps to attention. "That would be Castiel's entrance. Gods know how much he hates them, but when he runs charity events like this, the board insists that he has an entrance." She points to the tray. "Grab that and come on."

Dean grabs the tray and follows Charlie back out to join the guests. He stands ready with his tray and looks over at the stairs where everyone is watching.

It takes all of his willpower not to drop his tray.

Castiel Novak is Blue-eyes.

Dean rolls his eyes and walks back to the kitchen, not waiting for Castiel to walk down the stairs fully.

"Dean?" Donna looks up from the pastries she's prepping. "What's wrong?"

"Where's Jody?" Dean asks, a hint of anger and frustration in his voice.

"I'm right here." Jody steps back into the kitchen and next to Donna. "What's wrong?"

"You knew." He points at her. "You knew the entire time who Castiel is. You knew he was the reason I was treated like shit at the last event." Dean shook his head. "Jody. We've been friends for years. Why wouldn't you tell me?"

Jody looks at Donna, who shakes her head in return and goes back to prepping the pastries. "Because I knew you wouldn't come. Several witnesses came to your defense at the last event, Dean. And they all said the same thing. You and Castiel were flirting. Which is why I was surprised you said you didn't know who he is."

"Jody." Dean shakes his head and looks down at the floor. "I need a few. Take my tray, please?"

Jody nods and takes the tray out to the guests, passing Andy on her way out. He sets his tray in front of Donna and smirks. "How'd you two get the boss lady to serve?"

"Not right now, Andy." Donna frowns and slightly nods her head towards Dean.

"Dean-O?" Andy takes Donna's hint and crosses over to Dean. "You alright there?"

"No."

"Me neither then." He looks over his shoulder at Donna. "We're going for a smoke. I'll be back before my tray's ready."

"Neither one of you smoke." Donna raises her eyebrow curiously but amends her statement when Andy shoots her a look. "I mean, of course. You've got like 5 minutes."

Andy gives her a thumbs up and leads Dean out the backdoor. "What's going on, Dude?"

"You saw Castiel?" Dean waits until Andy confirms that he did. "Did he not look familiar to you?"

"Should he?" Andy hopped up on a retaining wall and patted for Dean to sit next to him.

"Dude, he was at the event two weeks ago."

Andy laughed, "No offense Dean, but do you know how many dates I've had with Moby Bong since that shit show?" When Dean doesn't answer, Andy continues. "I take it he's one of the assholes that treated you like shit?"

"More like the opposite." Dean ran his fingers through his hair. "He was nice to me, and he flirted."

"Dude, go flirt back then! Sugar Daddy for Dean!" Andy nudges Dean with his elbow playfully.

"No," Dean answers quickly. "Nothing would come from it."

Andy sighs and looks at Dean. "You know, back when we dated, I used to think I didn't deserve Tracey."

"Okay?"

"That wasn't my decision to make. It was hers. And in the long run? My insecurities chased her off." Andy claps Dean on the shoulder. "And I still fucking miss her, Dean. Get over yourself and let someone else tell you what they think of you."

Dean brushes Andy's hand off his shoulder and hops down off the wall. "Go get your tray from Donna, and if Jody's done with mine, tell her I'll be back in a few. I'm hitting the head."

"You don't want to admit I'm right, fine, Dean." Andy pushes off the wall and follows Dean back to the house. "But don't fuck up like I did. I'm trying now, and it's a hell of a difference." He points down a hallway once they get back inside. "Staff facilities are down there. What kind of house has a locker room for staff?"

"Rich people houses." Dean turns and heads down the hallway, pushing on the door marked for staff.

He quickly goes to the bathroom, before finding himself standing in front of the mirror again. "This fucking Deja vu." He washes his hands and splashes the cold water on his face. As he dries his hands and face, the door opens, with Castiel walking in.

Dean manages not to roll his eyes to the back of his head, keeping his focus on the sink.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel takes a few steps in and stops at the edge of the row of sinks. When Dean doesn't respond, he takes another step closer. "Enjoying the party so far?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "Not much to enjoy at a party when you have to work."

"Dean?" Castiel risks another step closer. "Talk to me, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm freaking awesome." Dean grips the edge of the sink and keeps his eyes down.

"You're not awesome. What's wrong?"

Dean closes his eyes at Castiel's voice, the question sounding unfairly innocent coming from him. "Nada. Just trying to remember why I like this job."

"You don't like it now?" Castiel takes another step closer. "Why?"

"Honestly?" Dean looks up and looks at himself in the mirror, trying desperately to not look at Castiel. "I don't like who we cater to."

"Do you mean cater as in what your actual job description is, or do you mean catering as in appeasing?" Cas leans back against the sink, the warmth of his skin threatening ea closer proximity to Dean.

"I just don't like the people who see me as a servant."

Dean watches as Cas nods. "You mean people like me."

"Yeah, Castiel. People just like you."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand." Dean watches in the mirror as Cas turns to look at him. "What exactly did I do to deserve your ire?"

Dean stands up and looks Castiel in the eyes. "You're just like the rest of them. You hide behind the fact that you can add 'philanthropist' to your abundant list of titles."

"You never even gave me a chance, Dean." Castiel steps closer to Dean. "You don't know me. I am a nice guy." His eyes flick down to Dean's lips. "I wanted to kiss you, the last time I saw you." Castiel looks back at Dean. "But, I didn't."

"What? Why are–"

"Because that would have been weird." Castiel steps into Dean's personal space, pushing him back against the wall. His lips lock on to Dean's, binding them in a fluster of confusion, want, and need. Castiel grabs Dean's hips and pulls them closer together, causing Dean to whimper involuntarily.

Dean pulls himself together long enough to push Castiel off of him. "Stop." He shakes his head. "You don't want this. You don't want me." The door opens, and Dean takes the opportunity to leave.

He moves quickly past Donna and finds Jody in the kitchen. "I'm sorry. You don't have to pay me. But I'm leaving." Dean rushes out the back door and hops into the Impala, taking off and heading back home.

Dean pulls into his apartment complex and heads inside, grabbing a beer. His phone keeps ringing and vibrating, phone calls, and text messages that he chooses to ignore.

Dean's thoughts are barreling down an unknown track at hundreds of miles per hour. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't want that kiss. Castiel has been on his mind since that night at Bela's party. At the same time, he's unsure as to what the kiss means. Did Castiel see him as all the other people had at that party? Was he just another object to be used and tossed away when he no longer had a purpose?

Against his better judgment, Dean grabs his laptop and sits on his sofa. His cell phone rang for the umpteenth time, and he shut it off completely. Dean loaded up Google and started the search to find out what he could about Castiel.

Some point during his research, Dean must have fallen asleep as he wakes up to a knock on his door. He stands up and quietly walks over and looks out the peephole. The redhead, Castiel's head of security, is standing outside on his stoop. He closes his eyes, trying to recall her name, when she knocks on the door again.

"Dean, can you please open up? It's Charlie. I know you're home." Dean quietly thanks her for calling out for him and looks through the peephole again. She appears to be upset, genuinely concerned, and he gives in.

"Is it just you?" He asks, hoping he doesn't regret this decision.

"One hundred percent just me, Dean." She pauses. "Please, can I talk to you?"

Dean opens the door and lets Charlie in. "Come in." He closes the door after she enters. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"I love it." Charlie smiles at him as she walks into the living room. "Harrison Ford fan?" She points to the framed Indiana Jones movie posters.

Dean nods, unsure of what to say.

"This feels like a home. Cas and I never feel at home back at his place." Charlie looks at Dean. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Red?" Dean slowly sits back down on the sofa and closes his laptop, remembering what he was doing on it.

"I already knew you were Googling him." Charlie raises her eyebrow. "I have a program that catches when his name whenever someone searches for him." She points next to Dean. "May I?" She waits until Dean nods before sitting next to him. "There was a huge miscommunication somewhere, and I don't know where it was. It's my fault that Cas is hurting, and you're upset."

"Your fault?" Dean shakes his head. "How the hell did you come to that conclusion?"

"I'm the reason Cas had the party. And the reason you guys were the catered staff." Charlie hangs her head. "He told me that he met the most incredible man at Talbot's party. Which, how he managed to even get away from Bela for ten seconds, surprises me."

"So, you assumed the guy was me?"

"The guy is you, Dean. Castiel is furious with me because I meddled." She looks around the living room before settling her eyes back on Dean. "Cas and I have been best friends since high school. He hated his family name. What did I tell you back at his house? You can Google that."

Dean nods. "I did. I saw it. His family doesn't appear to be very nice people."

"Cas managed to stay clear of all the drama because he has a conscience." Charlie starts playing with a strand of her hair. "He's never done anything for himself. To hear him say that there was someone he was interested in? Dean, those words have never come out of his mouth.

"I didn't realize how limited an interaction you two had. I guess romantic me thought you two talked late into the party, and like Cinderella, you had to run."

Dean laughs. "Why does everyone assume I'm a freaking princess?"

"It's not an insult. Just remember, a princess becomes queen. The queen is the strongest piece on the board." Charlie pauses to let that sink in then inhales deeply. "I told your boss that you had to be part of the staff. If she could get you on board, we'd give a bonus to each staff member."

"You can just throw away Castiel's money like that?"

"It's not throwing it away if it goes to a Mom and Mom business who needs it. Or to their staff. Cas agrees with me on that completely." Charlie crosses her arms. "The catch was, you weren't supposed to know who the client was until you got on site."

"So, Castiel, in the bathroom?"

Charlie frowns. "Thought you were at the party because you wanted to see him again."

"So..." Dean nods, running through his question in his mind. "Is he actually interested in me?"

"Dean, I swear to the gods. If I had to hear about you one more time over the past two weeks, I was going to strangle him myself." She looks at Dean. "I'm here to ask you for another chance since I screwed his up."

"Even after what happened?"

Charlie nods. "He's not mad with you. He's mad at the situation, and he's mad that I exacerbated it. He wants to get to know you."

Dean stands up and starts pacing. "Look, let's say I believe you. Let's say that Cas wants that."

"He does!" Charlie protests before being hushed by Dean.

"Hold on. Why me? We are worlds apart." Dean crosses his arms and looks at the petite woman on his couch. "He can have anyone and anything he wants. He only needs to snap his fingers."

"He wants a person who can keep him grounded. Who can call him out when his head is in the clouds. He may have turned his family's crap into gold, Dean, but he's still a rich kid who just wants someone to love him for him." She opens her mouth to say more but stops herself. "There are things you need to learn about him, from him."Dean sits down in a chair and looks at Charlie. "Did he send you?"

"No." Charlie pulls out her phone, unlocks it, and sets it down in front of Dean. "When we figured out what happened, when I came clean, he yelled at me to get out." She points to the phone. "He's been trying to get ahold of me to come home. Cas doesn't know I'm here."

Dean picks up the phone and swipes through. Unless they're acting, which he doubts, Castiel has texted her for the past forty-five minutes, asking her to respond or to at least come home. He hands the phone back to Charlie. "So what do you suggest? What's your plan to make it right."

"Really?" Charlie's eyes light up, and she looks as though a weight has lifted off her shoulders. She leans forward, and together the two of them start planning.

...

A few nights later, Dean is sitting in a booth by himself at his favorite place to eat, The Roadhouse. He may be a little biased since Ellen is his aunt, but free beer and amazing cheeseburgers go a long way when you're broke. Dean takes another look at his phone and takes a deep breath. He should have company joining him at any moment.

The chime to the front door rings and he can hear Charlie. "You said anywhere, Cas. I'm choosing here. I've heard they have the best burgers in town."

"It looks like the burgers will be good." Dean hears Castiel's voice, and it's almost like hearing it for the first time. "It's got that feeling of good, homecooked food."

"Well, I guess we'll have to find out," Charlie replies, a little too loudly and a little too stiffly, almost causing Dean to lose it in laughter.

Dean slides out of his seat, and turns to the entrance, finding a suddenly surprised Castiel, his head whipping back and forth between Charlie and Dean.

"You're here?" Castiel's head tilts in confusion. "I would have figured you hated me."

"You have a highly convincing wingwoman as your best friend there, Cas." Dean nods towards Charlie.

"You did cheat at poker." Cas points at Charlie, accusing her.

The redhead shrugs. "I needed to make sure I won, so you would let me choose where to eat." She winks at Dean. "That being said, I have places to be, so catch you bitches later." Charlie flashes a peace sign and exits the Roadhouse.

"Care to join me?" Dean points to his booth.

"You want me here?" Cas looks at Dean cautiously. "We didn't part on good terms."

"We had no terms, Cas." Dean stops. "Is it ok if I call you Cas?"

Cas nods slowly and walks to the table. "It's always been Charlie's nickname for me. But if she's ok with you using it, I prefer it." He sits on the other side of the booth. "Can I ask why here?"

"Why here, as in why I picked here for our first date?" Dean smiles as Cas' jaw drops. "Because the first two times, we were in your world. There was decadence, and there was opulence." Dean sits down and slides to be across from Cas. "I might dress up pretty, but that ain't me. If you want me like you say you do. If you actually want to know me?" Dean gestures around. "This is my world, Cas."

"That's not me–" Cas stops himself. "Anyway I phrase it, I'm probably going to shove my foot in my mouth." His mouth quirks up in an apologetic smile. "Tell me more about you, Dean? Tell me something that one of Charlie's background checks wouldn't tell me."

Dean snorts in laughter. "Your girl is creepy. Like, I've enjoyed getting to know her, but damn. She knows my favorite color, and I never told her. I wouldn't know what you found out."

"She's good at what she does." Cas agrees easily. He pauses, his finger tapping on his lips. "You said you gave me a second chance because of her. But there has to be more to it than that."

"You want to know?" Cas nods, and Dean continues. "It was what Charlie said, something my friend Andy said, and one other thing."

"What did they say?"

Dean leans forward towards Cas. "Charlie admitted fault and explained to me that you are a good person who wants someone to like you for you, and maybe love you for you." Dean takes a deep, calming breath. "Andy said it's not up to me if someone likes me or not."

"Charlie, while an over-sharer, is not wrong, and your friend Andy sounds very wise." Cas offers his hand.

"Don't let Andy hear you say that. He already has an inflated ego." Dean takes Cas's hand and squeezes lightly.

Cas tilts his head. "So, what's the third thing?"

Dean pushes himself forward, his mouth catching Cas' by surprise. He lets himself melt into the kiss, the feeling of electricity shooting through him just as it did at Cas' house. His hand wraps around the back of Cas' head, locking them together. When Dean pulls back for air, his fingers run through Cas' thick locks. Dean smiles at Cas. "I wanted to see your face when I surprised you with that kiss."

Cas blushes and smiles at Dean. "I look forward to getting to know you. Correctly this time.”

#profoundnet #spncreatorsdaily #writersofdestiel #spn #spn fanfic #destiel #deancas #rating: m #7.5k words #tw: dubcon kiss #waiter!dean #ceo!cas #nickel writes

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psyleedee · 5 years

Text

Mother Knows Best (Dean×Castiel).

Words: 500+

Pairing: Dean×Castiel.

by psyleedee.

Mary notices it for the first time in the kitchen. Its only been a few days since she came back from the dead, and honestly, her kids had been pampering her a lot. All three of them.

Dean was making some chicken stew. And well, she didn't know he could cook this good. Her heart mourns her absence like a stranger. How she couldn't be there for them, and how they had to go through literal hell. It's not the kind of thing that would please a mother.

He's standing with his back to her, and Castiel is next to him. Sam's talking to her about something from their childhood, yet Mary's eyes linger on Dean and Cas, and the minuscule gap between them. But then Dean raises his spoon, and blows on it gently. And extremely casually, holds it infront of Cas's mouth. Cas wraps his lips around the spoon and licks it clean before humming and nodding his head.

"Tastes like molecules... and heat."

He states quite matter-of-factly. Dean glances at him and then drops his head.

"Keep forgetting you're an angel."

Dean shakes his head fondly, while Cas just smiles at him, wide and playful. Mary finds herself smiling at the little interaction.

The second time it happens is when they're at a diner after a hunt. Cas and Dean are sitting next to each other, sides pressed together. Mary and Sam are sitting opposite to them, and Dean and Sam are surfing through the menus.

"Hey, check this out Sammy, 'double trouble extra loaded hamburger'. Sounds awesome doesn't it?"

"You sure? Sounds like a platefull of cholesterol to me."

Sam scoffs. Mary watches her boys carefully.

"Oh come on, just say you hate fun and go."

Dean rolls his eyes.

"Dean, I don't know much about human food, but 'double trouble extra loaded hamburger' sounds atrocious."

"You don't get a say in this. You don't even eat food."

Dean reasoned, and Cas levelled him with a narrow glare.

"But I know enough to tell you that you really don't need those much of calories. Besides, when was the last time you even checked your cholesterol? I could check it if you-"

"No!"

"Dean-"

Cas glared at Dean and Dean fixed him back with an equally challenging glare. But it wasn't long before Cas shook his head.

"Fine. Do whatever you want."

Cas shrugged, and folded his hands against his chest. Dean seemed to consider it for a moment before-

"Fine. I'll get one of those rabbit food thingies that Sam eats."

"You mean salad?"

Sam asked sarcastically.

"Yes."

Cas set his hands down on the table next to Dean's, but not before smiling at him victoriously. Dean didn't say anything, but Mary could clearly see the smile he was trying to refrain.

It wasn't exactly a special, romantic moment as such, but there was something about their bickering that just reminded Mary of a married couple.

She smiled to herself, her thoughts now wandering over to John.

The third time it happened was after Castiel had met Dean and Sam after their stay in prison. Mary remembers how fearlessly Cas had killed Billie, and then with the agony of a heartbroken lover, mumbled quietly, 'you mean too much to me'. She knows exactly who it had been targeted towards. None other than Dean. Yet, her son had been off on his own bullshit. Both of them had a point, yet Dean, the dumbass that he was, refused to talk to Castiel.

She remembers texting Dean about it, telling him to forgive Cas, look from his perspective. It had taken a few days, but when she returned home after her hunt, Dean and Cas were back together, the way they were, pressing close when they sat, always within each other's spaces. Sometimes she felt like screaming in their goddamn ears about how much they were in love with each other, but well, there wasn't much she could do.

The fourth time, however, Mary has had it. She's sick of the damn tension and her oblivious son and angel. So she trips Cas when he's approaching Dean, and whoops, there he goes, right in Dean's arms. Their both extremely close now, and Sam and Mary are watching eagerly. Mary sends her younger son a little wink, who smiles back at her wickedly.

"Uh, Cas?"

"Sorry, uh, I tripped-"

"Yeah- you can get off now."

Cas gets off of Dean and thats the last Mary sees of them before she enters the kitchen the next morning. And well, she just accidentally happens to walk in on her son and his angel boyfriend making out. She can't show her excitement though, so when they pull away hurriedly, all she says is-

"Come on now boys, you have your bedrooms for this, all day."

She chuckles at the flustered face of her son and one very blushing angel.

That's right. Mom 1. Kids 0.

But well, who knows, its more of a win-win situation, really.

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gaaahhhh-the-feels-why · 6 years

Text

Super lock cross over fic (part 2)

Mrs Hudson giggled to herself.

John smiled, but then furrowed his brow.

“I’m sorry, why did you think Sherlock and I would like this romantic subplot, again?”

“Well, it applies to you, doesn’t it.”

John got up rapidly, Sherlock sighed.

John walked up to Mrs Hudson.

“For the last time, if anyone cares, I’m not actually gay. Sherlock and I are not a couple.”

“Okay whatever you say, it’s none of my business.”

Mrs Hudson took a step out of the doorway.

“Oh and Sherlock, clean this mess up!”

Sherlock approached the door, and firmly shut it.

“Will do Mrs Hudson, thanks for the tea.” He called out.

He sat on the nearest chair and drummed his hand on the armrest.

“You’re in my chair.”

John tapped him on the shoulder.

“What?”

“You’re in my chair, get out.”

John muttered.

Sherlock grinned.

“Well I’m comfortable now, and I’m not going to move.”

John smiled.

“Well I’m not sitting in your chair.”

“No, absolutely not.”

Sherlock shuffled over, while John sat on the chair, with his legs on top of Sherlock’s.

Sherlock draped an arm around John.

“I’d be lost without my blogger.”

“I’m freezing!”

Dean shouted.

“Plus it’s raining, what the hell. I thought it was supposed to be summer!”

“Dude stop complaining. Just enjoy London, it’s supposed to be an iconic city.”

Dean furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Iconic? For what? The big ass clock tower and the massive Ferris wheel?”

“That’s Big Ben, and the London Eye.”

“Well London Eye don’t care.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Every time I die, and then come back to life, you’re still not funny.”

Sam chuckled.

“Shut up I’m hilarious.”

The brothers laughed and castiel watched fondly. He’d always enjoyed the brotherly bond between Sam and Dean. His “brothers and sisters”, if you could even call them that, were never this nice to him. He loved the Winchesters, with them, he found a family.

Castiel smiled.

Suddenly, he saw two men standing by Sam and Dean. One had dark hair, a black coat and dark blue scarf, along with cold, blue eyes- which, in Cas’ opinion, were nothing compared to Dean’s.

The other man was short, with lighter brown hair and dark brown eyes.

They both wore puzzled expressions on their faces.

Sherlock and John were walking down the street. It was raining, as usual, you wouldn’t expect less of a british summer.

When they saw three men, two of which were clad in plaid, and the other wearing a peculiar trench coat. The other two men, one of whom, the shorter one, despite wearing a leather jacket, over what looked like four layers of clothes, was complaining to the taller man about how he was freezing. Judging by their accents and attitudes, he guessed they were American. He smirked to himself, they didn’t appear to have umbrellas- of course they didn’t, they were American- they were going to get absolutely soaked.

He was just going to walk past them when he suddenly heard the taller man mention the fact that he had died and come back to life, as if it were a casual conversation topic.

Sherlock and John stopped dead in their tracks, and stared in confusion at the plaid wearing men. It was then that they noticed the man in the trench coat staring at them.

“Excuse me, did you just say that you’d died and come back to life?!” Sherlock yelled interrogatively.

Sam turned red with panic, and managed to blurt out

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Before turning to face Dean again, hoping that the stranger would go away.

Sherlock was being ignored. Sherlock did not like being ignored, especially when he was asking questions, which was not often. He usually had all the answers.

“Sir, don’t ignore me, I’m not used to being ignored.”

Sam turned around.

“I’m sorry, this was supposed to be a private conversation, I was sharing something a bit personal that I’m not comfortable sharing with someone who doesn’t know anything about me.”

Sherlock smirked. John placed a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder.

“Sherlock, don’t.”

Sherlock took a breath.

“Your name is Sam Winchester, the man standing next to you is your older brother, Dean Winchester. The man in the trench coat is not related to you, but he is in a relationship with your brother. You’re employment is unconventional to say the least, you are involved in some sort of family business, you have obviously suffered multiple traumatic experiences, and you have been suicidal at some point in your life.”

Sam, Dean and Cas stared at the strange man in shock.

“How did you.. how did you know all that stuff about me.”

Sherlock smirked again.

“Quite easily, what I presumed was your name was inscribed on the label of your coat which was sticking out of the back, your brother was simple, your initials were carved into the car, along with his, and I heard you address him as dean earlier. Also the fact that he addressed you as Sammy implies not only that he has a strong connection with you, but also that he still regards you as a child, which would suggest that he feels protective over you, thus he must be your older brother. The car itself is rather old, which implies it had been passed down, which again has implications of a family business, also the fact that there are some Lego bricks and what appears to be an army man shoved in the car would indicate the presence of children, but I am assuming you have none, since they’re not present and the fact that you travel and live with your brother and his boyfriend would imply that even if you did have kids you would bring them with you, but you have not- so no children. This implies that those are your toys from a childhood spent in the car, travelling- oh wow, I am sensing some serious repressed daddy issues. And the fact that the man in the trench coat was your brother’s boyfriend was apparent from the way his pupils dilated when they looked at him, and as did your brothers vice versa.”

Sherlock smirked. John apologised for he inconvenience, and tried to usher Sherlock along.

Dean called out.

“Wait, wait, wait. You can’t just drop a bomb like that on us, and then just walk away.”

“Okay, what do you propose I do.”

Dean rolled his eyes, who did this guy think he was. Mr smart ass with his fancy accent and big words. He was Dean fucking Winchester, he’d met God for crying out loud, and here this guy was, looking at him as if he was some sort of idiot.

Sherlock looked at them and smirked. Oh they truly were the stereotypical American idiots.

(A/N *sliding in those green day references*)

“What’s your name?”

Dean muttered.

Sherlock looked him dead in he eyes.

“The names Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. I’m a consulting detective and I-“

“What’s a consulting detective?”

Castiel asked, staring intently at the man, all his time alive and he had never heard of a consulting detective before.

Cas cocked his head in the adorable way that dean loved.

Dean smiled briefly to himself.

Sherlock, however was not smiling. He was interrupted, he hated being interrupted, especially by strange men in filthy trench coats.

He walked up to Cas and looked him square in the face.

“When the police are stuck, which is always, they call me. I created the position.”

Cas cocked his head again, the man was angry, he didn’t understand why, he had just asked a simple question.

“Well, I obviously didn’t know what a consulting detective was, since you created the position.”

Cas replied, squinting his eyes briefly at Sherlock and then turning away.

Sherlock went to tap Cas on the shoulder, but Dean grabbed his arm and moved it away, staring menacingly at him as he did so.

John placed a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock looked at him quizzically.

“Not good?”

“A bit not good.”

John replied, his look softened as Sherlock stared back at him.

Sam smiled.

“So how long have you two been a couple?”

Sam chuckled.

Sherlock and John let go of each other and turned to face Sam.

“We’re not a couple.” The spluttered simultaneously.

“Seriously, I’ve had to put up with their bullshit denials for years,”

Sam said, gesturing at dean and Cas, who immediately blushed.

“Now don’t tell me that you’re not a couple- I know sexual tension when I see it.”

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peanutbutterjelly-pie · 7 years

Text

Bianca

content: Bianca simply wants to have a good time with the green-eyed guy who just walked into the bar. Little does she know that it’s a futile endeavor.

word count: 1,251

author’s note: Part of my “Outsider POV” series!

Bianca notices the green-eyed guy as soon as he enters the bar.

She watches intensively how he looks around, scanning the room with a scrutiny you don’t find very often, and finally approaches the counter, his steps determined as if he’s on some kind of mission.

Bianca’s interest perks up instantly. She actually just came to this place to enjoy the surprisingly good beer and hang out with her work colleagues to bitch about their new supervisor, but she wasn’t averse to make this night extra special.

And it’s been a while since she allowed herself some treat.

So she immediately gets into motion because the guy is hot and sexy and the better part of the female (and a few male) patrons are already eyeing him up, probably considering whether they should take a shot or not. And Bianca is not in the mood to miss her chance.

At close range the man is even more gorgeous than from the other side of the room and Bianca inwardly high-fives herself while appreciating the beauty right in front of her. Freckles, long eyelashes, chiseled jaw, light stubble – just perfect!

“I’d ask you if I could buy you a drink, but I see you’re already covered,” she just jumps in without much preamble, pointing at the beer bottle in the guy’s hand and smiling brightly.

The stranger turns around, stiffening a bit, and blinks a few times as though he’s completely unprepared for the concept of someone speaking to him at a place like this.

“Um …” he says, obviously not certain what the appropriate response would be.

She chuckles, relishing the look on his face. “I’m Bianca,” she introduces herself. “Nice to meet you.”

A tentative smile tugs at the corners of the guy’s mouth. “I’m Dean.”

His voice is ridiculously deep and makes Bianca picture some very naughty things in her mind.

“Pleasure,” she answers, winking mischievously while really hoping he will give her right that sometime soon. “I’m always happy to get to know new people.”

She leans a little closer. She’s trying not to come on to strong since that occasionally backfired in the past and she honestly doesn’t want to chase Dean off, but it’s quite a challenge to keep some reasonable distance between them.

“So … do you have any plans for tonight?” Bianca asks, attempting a flirty smirk that hopefully doesn’t look as stupid as it feels. “Because I’d have some suggestions otherwise.”

Yes, does she have some suggestions.

However, her hopes are crushed instantly when Dean tells her, “Actually … I’m waiting for someone.”

He sounds a bit hesitant, as if he can’t really believe it himself, but there are some strong emotions flickering across his face within a split second and Bianca knows straightaway that she is witnessing something vastly deep and meaningful.

Dammit.

Nonetheless she finds herself asking, “A date?”

There is still a possibility he’s meeting up with his long-lost sister after ten years of no contact or an old high school friend he missed rather dearly since graduation or something like that.

But once again Dean disappoints by saying, “Yeah, it is.”

Bianca suppresses a sigh because she’s a polite person and she wouldn’t pout into a guy’s face for waiting for his dream woman to turn up and rock his world.

“That’s nice,” she says instead. “And you chose this place as your venue?”

She raises his brows skeptically and lets her gaze rove over the room. It isn’t exactly a dump – she wouldn’t be here otherwise –, but it’s far from date material and Bianca already starts to feel sorry for that poor girl before Dean shakes his head vehemently.

“No, of course not.” He snorts. “We’re just meeting here. I might not be overly classy, but I still have some standards and that’s really not the place for a first date. Or any date at all. Cas deserves way more than this.”

And then Dean blushes as if he revealed far too much about himself and Bianca can’t help being charmed by it. He looks far too endearing to be actually true.

That Cas is quite lucky.

“Well, then I’m really sorry for interrupting your night –”

“Don’t be,” Dean cuts in, smiling. “I’m actually really flattered. Usually I would have bought you a drink immediately. It’s just …”

“Now there is Cas,” Bianca summarizes.

Dean’s whole demeanor gentles. “Yeah,” he breaths. “Now there is Cas.”

It’s more than obvious that Bianca – or any person in this bar, hell, on this freaking planet – never stood a chance. The guy is a lost case.

And he seems to be rather happy about it.

It shows spectacularly just a moment later when his face suddenly lights up as though something – or, more likely, someone – turned a switch. Bianca frowns confused for a second before following Dean’s line of sight and sets eyes on the person just entering the bar.

Messy sex hair, the bluest eyes Bianca has ever seen, rumpled clothes, a trench coat at least two sizes too big – and definitely a man.

Yeah, Bianca never had a chance.

“Dean, I’m very sorry for being late.” The guy’s goddamned voice is truly impossible, so gravelly it sends shivers down Bianca’s spine. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”

Dean chuckles. Every sign of nervousness he showed before is now vanished like it never existed in the first place. “Cas, you’re ten minutes earlier than you said you would be.”

Cas looks rather bewildered confronted with that information. “Really?” He glances at the clock on the wall, looking like a confused puppy puzzled by the world. “I didn’t realize. The human concept of time can be rather strange sometimes.”

Dean is still laughing quietly, his eyes gleaming so freaking fondly Bianca can’t help feeling envy. She can’t remember anyone ever looking at her that way before – so full of affection and love and forever – and it’s so fucking beautiful and fiercely painful all at once. Her chest tightens and for a few moments it seriously takes her breath away to be in the presence of something so powerful.

Dean gravitates toward Cas like it’s second nature, never once averting his gaze or even blinking, and in no time at all they’re standing ridiculously close to each other.

“Let’s get out of here, Cas!”

Cas beams as if these are the words he waited all his life to hear, looking almost supernatural in his apparent happiness. He grabs Dean’s hand and gently tugs him to the exit while obviously enjoying the blush on Dean’s cheeks at the same time.

Right before they leave the bar, however, Dean seems to suddenly recall Bianca’s existence, shoots a quick glance over his shoulders and calls, “Bye, Bianca!” before disappearing through the door.

She heaves a deep sigh and stays frozen at the spot for a while, just staring at the exit and wondering whether someday she would find something as wonderful as these two men have with each other.

They’re a pair of very fortunate bastards.

“No luck with the hot guy?” Megan, one of her colleagues, asks as soon as Bianca finally returns to their small group.

Bianca shrugs. “He’s taken,” she explains, dropping onto her seat. “Stupidly in love, so it seems.”

Megan pulls the corners of her lips downward, appearing all sympathetic. “Shame.”

Bianca shakes her head. “Actually, no,” she disagrees, smiling slightly. “Lucky him.”

Lucky him indeed.

#destiel #destielfanficnet #destiel drabble #ficlet #fluff #outsider pov #first date #outsider!pov series #fanfiction: others

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jordanwinchesterimagines · 7 years

Photo

Two Little Lines Epilogue

Words: 1862

AN: So, It’s been over two years since I released the first part of Two Little Lines, and as a treat to my wonderful followers, and as an anniversary gift to all of those people who liked and reblogged the series, I present the long anticipated epilogue. I want to take a second to thank each and every one of you for reading my work and taking the time to let me know what you thought. I always love feedback, and your messages and comments are the only thing that keep me going at times. If you need a refresher on the series, or have not read it yet you can find the links here on my masterpost, or linked below. Happy Reading and as always..

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Jordan Loves you.

“(Y/N), will you calm down? The girls will be fine.” Dean laughed.

“I don’t know, Dean maybe I should call…” you took your cell phone from your purse and began to dial a phone number.

“Stop.” He interrupted, gently taking the phone from your hands. “They’re in good hands.”

“I know they are, but I can’t help but worry, Dean. I’ve never left them before.” Sophia and Mary were four months old, and they had you tied around their little fingers. You had spent every second with them since they were born, and when you left them at the bunker several hours earlier; you felt like you were abandoning them. It tore at your heart. “Just let me call one last time, and I promise I wont ask again for the rest of the night.” You pleaded with him. He rolled his eyes at you, but handed you the phone anyway.

“Fine. But this is the last time.” You smiled, as you finished dialing the number. The phone picked up after the first ring.

“Yes (Y/N), they are still asleep, no they are not crying,” Sam said before you could ask.

“Okay, okay. I get it. I’m crazy.” You replied.

“Look, I’ve got things handled here. Just enjoy your date.”

“Thanks Sammy.”

“Dean’s the only one that can call me that” Sam replied.

“Sammy,” you said with a pretend-stern voice, obviously teasing your friend.

“Yeah okay… whatever (Y/N). The girls are fine, just try and have a mushy, gross date with my brother.” You smiled at his tone and let out a small laugh.

“I’ll try. Call me if anything…”

“Goodbye (Y/N),” Sam said, cutting you off.

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint. Bye SAMMY” Dean chuckled as you closed the phone and handed it over the table to him. The two of you were eating a nice romantic dinner in your favorite Italian restaurant in one of their small corner booths. It was close to Valentines Day, and the place was decorated for the occasion. Strings of lights hung across the high-pitched ceiling, dropping just low enough to cast a dreamy glow on the patrons. Red roses and tea candles adorned every table in the dinning room, and you had to admit, it was all very breathtaking. Any normal girl wouldn’t have been this distracted, but you on the other hand… Poor Dean had been putting up with your constant worrying and phone calls all evening.

“See? Fine. Now, where were we?” he said, putting the phone in his pocket. Reaching across the table, he took your hand and rubbed small circles on its back. You could feel the blood slowly rushing to your face at his touch. The two of you had been together for a long time, but you still felt like a schoolgirl who had a crush on the star football player every time. Dean raised your hand and pressed his lips to the palm, smiling as he did so.

“You look beautiful tonight, did I mention that?” He had actually told you that tonight…. several times in fact. You rolled your eyes at his compliment because you knew what he was up to.

“Is that your best line, Dean Winchester? Because I have to say, I’m a little disappointed.” You teased.

“Honey if you think that’s my best line, it’s been too long.” Well, he wasn’t lying. Sure, you had been romantic while you were pregnant but since the girls were born… not so much. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be, you were just so busy taking care of the girls and you were tired… a lot. But tonight you didn’t have anything to do but be in love with your best friend. While you were worried to be away from the girls for the first time, you were excited to have this time with Dean. You smiled and took a sip of your water. Dean looked around the small restaurant at the other couples enjoying their evening. He nodded, as if deciding on something before slowly placing his napkin on the table. He moved around the table toward the middle of the curved bench, closing the gap between you. You shifted into him, allowing him to place his arm around you. You couldn’t help but laugh when he kissed your cheek.

“Well?” You asked, expectantly, “Let’s hear them.” Dean smirked, enjoying the moment… enjoying you.

“Your eyes are like an ocean, I could be lost in them forever,” he said, in the cheesiest voice he could muster. “If I could, I would rearrange the alphabet and put ‘u’ and ‘I’ together.” You laughed loudly at his corny pick up lines before kissing him lightly on the lips.

“You know? You are one lucky man. If you didn’t already have me, I’m not sure I would be picking up what you’re laying down in front of me” you joked, knowing full well that he could get you anytime he wanted. He smiled warmly at your teasing, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

“I am though. The luckiest man on the entire planet.” He reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, causing you blush… again. “Not only do I have the privilege of kissing the smartest, most beautiful, badass woman any time she’ll allow me to…” he stopped momentarily to shift his body to face you, coming even closer. “She’s the mother of my two perfect baby girls… the most wonderful mother I could have ever imagined for my children. Watching you take care of them, it’s breathtaking.” Your eyes began forming tears at his generous words, and you stopped breathing momentarily when he cupped your face with his hands and kissed you sweetly on the mouth. You melted into him, kissing him back happily. After a few moments he moved your hair from the other side of your neck, leaving it bare to the world. He trailed kisses along the side of your face and to your ear where he nibbled the lobe, something that always made you laugh, until he reached your neck. You felt like a teenager again, the rush that came with being with Dean was something you would never be able to hold a candle to. His tender kisses and sweet words were enough to drive you crazy, and you struggled to keep your breathing under control. You sighed when he finally pulled away, leaving you somewhat frazzled. “How was that for my best line.” You pulled back and looked at him, openly amused by his jesting. He laughed when you gave him a look and punched him lightly in the arm. You smiled at each other for a moment before kissing again, this time initiated by you.

“Well it worked,” you whispered pulling away.

“Did it?” He said, catching his breath.

“Yeah, I’d say you caught me.”

“Really?” He said, raising his eyebrows in question. You nodded.

“For good.” The two of you were brought out of your extremely private moment when your waitress, a teenage girl with glasses, gave you a small cough. You looked at her apologetically, knowing that your closeness probably embarrassed her. You smiled at her, trying to ease the awkwardness in the air. It seemed to work and she gave you a small smile back.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I thought you would um….” She looked down at the floor, “like the check.”

“You have no idea.” Dean replied. You turned to look at him before elbowing him in the ribs.

“Dean. Cut it out.” you scolded. You returned your gaze to the poor girl standing at the table, and reached for the check. “I’m sorry about him. He’s a child.” She held back a laugh as she handed you bill.

“It’s alright ma’am. My parents still act like that, and they’ve been married for almost 20 years.” She said quietly before taking her leave.

“Did you see the look on her face?” Dean said, now openly laughing. You gave him a disapproving look before giving in and releasing a small chuckle.

“You shouldn’t have done that to that poor girl. She’s probably scarred for life.” Dean gave you a look as he took out his wallet. “Okay, okay,” you conceded, “her face was priceless.”

“Don’t worry, with the tip I’m leaving her she will be able to afford a therapy session.” He replied, taking out enough cash to cover the bill and a sizeable tip.

“Good Man.” You said, tapping the top of his hand.

“Ha ha… Let’s get out of here shall we?” The two of you stood from your table and walked toward the exit, only stopping so Dean could retrieve your wrap from the coat check and help you with it. In the parking lot, Dean opened the car door for you, and waited until you were securely inside before closing it behind you. You watched fondly as he got into the car and began sifting through the cassettes in the old box under the seat. He was interrupted by the ding of his cell phone. He placed the box down and turned all of his attention to the screen. He beamed at it before turning it to face you. You took the phone from him, and examined the text message. It read ‘woke up for snuggles’. Attached was a photo of Sam sitting in the nursery, rocking Sophia and Mary. All three of them appeared to be fast asleep and cuddled close together.

“Who sent this?”

“Cas.” You gave Dean a look. “What? Did you think you were the only parent who checked up on the girls tonight?” You snickered.

“No. But I wasn’t expecting a text message from Castiel. What on Earth is he doing at the bunker?”

“I may have asked him to swing by and check on Sam.”

“Really, Dean?” He shrugged.

“I trust Sam completely, but….” He squirmed in his seat, “the girls can be a lot.”

“Oh I know…” you teased. He had given you so much grief over the last few hours about checking on the girls and he had been doing the same thing the whole time! You couldn’t help but feel relieved though. The picture had given you a peace of mind knowing how loved and protected your girls were.

“You ready to go home?” You smiled and nodded, leaning back in your seat as Dean pulled out onto the road. You looked over at him, finally feeling that everything in your life was the way it should be. You thought about how lucky you were that things turned out the way they did. A few years ago, you didn’t have anything. You were alone and had a feeling that you would always be that way. Oh how things had changed…. You had everything you needed now. You had the man of your dreams sitting next you, holding you hand. You had two beautiful daughters, who you love with every fiber of your being. You finally had the brother you had always wanted, and a friend you never had. You finally had a family, and a home. To think, it all started with two little lines.

#jordanwinchesterimagines #jordanlovesyou #dean winchester #spn imagine #supernatural imagines #two little lines #deanxreader #epilouge #the last piece #dean winchester imagine #imagine dean winchester #Two little lines series #for my readers

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nickelkeep · 5 years

Note

Author & Historical Destiel, please

Anteros - On Ao3

To say that Dean was nervous was an understatement. He had triple checked his satchel and had all his notebooks and writing implements. Meg had kept her word, and gotten him an appointment with Castiel Novak, the foremost expert on Greek Mythology.

It seemed almost like fate. He met Meg at one of Round Table gatherings, and the duo was instantly inseparable. Despite how close they had become to each other, it still surprised him how fast she had gotten him the meeting. Dean had been trying for the better part of a year to arrange an interview, and the delays had hindered his book progress. All he had done was mention the part of the book he was stuck on, and when she determined she was unable to help, she got him the meeting with Novak.

That was how Dean found himself standing outside the Classics building at Stanford University, on the other side of the country. He headed up the stairs and entered the building, stopping at the information desk. He smiled at the receptionist. “Sorry to bother ma’am. I have an appointment with Professor Novak?”

She pointed over her right shoulder. “Up the stairs to the fourth floor, right corridor, office number 401.”

Dean nodded. “Thank you.” He headed up the staircase she had pointed to, taking two steps at a time. He was far from out of shape, but four flights of stairs was still a lot to climb. As he reached the fourth floor, he pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. He was thankfully early and took the spare time to sit in one of the chairs outside the office to catch his breath. Meg had warned him that Novak was a stickler for appearances, and he didn’t want to disappoint.

A few minutes later, a tall gentleman with messy brown locks walked up the stairs. Dean’s eyes met his, and he instantly lost himself in the bluest eyes he had ever seen. His breath hitched in his throat, and he was distracted enough that the man had to repeat himself.

“Mr. Winchester, I presume?” The man smirked and offered his hand. “Castiel Novak.”

Dean stood up and took his hand. “Yes, sorry. I’m Dean, Dean Winchester. I appreciate you meeting with me today.” He stopped to appreciate the professor’s eyes again. “I’m so sorry. Is this the first time we’ve met? Have we met before?”

“It’s always possible.” Castiel smiled as he let go of Dean’s hand and gestured down the hallway. The professor’s other hand hovered at the small of Dean’s back, causing a warm feeling to build within him. “It’s amusing. I haven’t heard from Megara in ages, she calls me completely out of the blue, and tells me there’s this fantastic author I must meet because he is dire need of assistance from an expert on Greek Mythology.”

“Meg? Said I’m fantastic?” He smiled fondly. “I’m surprised the She-devil said anything nice about me. Are we talking about the same woman?” Dean gestured with his hands. “Yea high, brunette, quite voluptuous?”

“As I said, it’s been ages. But that sounds about right.” Castiel opened the door to his office and stepped back to let the taller man enter. “Take a seat. And tell me, what has you seeking out more information about the classics?”

Dean walked past the other man into the office. The feeling of déjà vu grew stronger while his attraction to Castiel built even stronger. “I’m working on a novel about the Erotes.” He answered as he sat down, discreetly covering his lap with his satchel and pulling at his wrist. “There’s plenty of work to find on just Eros, but we know of at least six others, and I can’t seem to find anything on them.”

“Not many people know about the Erotes.” Castiel’s head tilted and smiled curiously at Dean. “What do you know of them?”

Dean felt the heat of a blush rise up his cheeks. “There are 7 of them at the god level. Anteros, Eros, Hedylogos, Hermaphroditus, Himeros, Hymenaeus, and Pothos. They have their own followers, but they are a retinue of Aphrodite’s.” He swallowed, unsure of why he was embarrassed by his knowledge. “They’re often attributed to homosexual desires, hence why most people don’t know of them. Outside of Eros.”

Castiel had leaned forward on his desk while listening. “Sounds like you’ve done your research. Why come to me?”

“Your research was the only research I found.”

“So how did you know of them to research them, let alone write about them?”

“I had a dream. I was told to find Anteros.” Dean bit his bottom lip and looked down at the desk. “I honestly thought it was a place, so I tried to search for it on a map. Then I ran across a book of mythology. One of yours.” He lifted his head back up, his green eyes instantly finding the blue ones across the desk. “I don’t even know how I found it, or what possessed me to read it. And now you probably think I’m crazy.” Dean stood up from his chair, making sure that his bag was in front of him. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Professor Novak.”

Castiel shot out of his chair and blocked Dean’s departure. “This hasn’t been a bother at all, Dean. I promise you.”

“Don’t try and humor me Cas. Even I know how that sounds.”

“Can I ask you something, and if I’m wrong, I’ll move?” Castiel reached down and took one of Dean’s hands into his own. “Since you’ve met me, has something felt…” he paused, staring deep into Dean’s eyes as he tried to figure out his next words, “familiar? Like you’ve come home after a long time away?”

Dean could only nod.

Castiel’s traced his hand up Dean’s other arm. “Say my name? Please?”

“Cas.” Dean saw the tears build up in the other man’s eyes. “Cas? What’s wrong?”

“I thought each time would hurt less.” Castiel cupped his hand softly on Dean’s cheek. “26 years this time?”

“What do you mean?”

“Remind me to send Megara a fruit basket?” Castiel leaned forward and softly kissed Dean on the lips. “Remember.”

#profoundnet #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #spncreatorsdaily #The Reincarnation Series #mention: Meg #profound bond #two AUs #historical!au #author!au #nickel writes

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peanutbutterjelly-pie · 7 years

Text

Persistence

content: Dean feels uncomfortable with the flirting attempts by the cashier at the grocery store, but thankfully Castiel comes to his rescue – though seriously not the way Dean expected.

word count: 2,174

Dean really doesn’t like visiting the small grocery store in Lebanon right at the town’s center.

And thankfully most of the time he’s got other options – mainly the big supermarket next to the highway –, but once in a while he’s got no other choice due to time issues or saving gas or whatever else might come up.

And it’s not like the store itself is crappy or something. No, not at all. It may be small, but it’s got everything they need, even Dean’s favorite brand of beer. Hell, they even sell those awesome chocolate brownies you can’t find nearly anywhere anymore!

So yeah, it’s a nice enough store.

But there’s a big problem – the cashier who seems to live in that stupid shop!

At least Dean’s got that impression since she’s always there when he walks through the door, smiling at him so broadly as soon as she spots him as if the only purpose of her life is waiting for Dean to arrive at the store.

Her name is Stacy and she looks like seventeen although she reassured him many times before (by emphasizing Every. Single. Word.) that she’s old enough to drink – while at the same time giggling like she just shared a juicy secret and fluttering her eyelashes in a way she probably thinks seductive. Her flirting attempts are countless, clumsy, awkward and leave Dean highly uncomfortable.

But she never stops.

Dean can’t help admiring her persistence a bit. Not even hints that he could easily be her father age wise made her back off. Dean tried being nice and polite about it and used grumbles and grunts a few weeks later when his maturity hadn’t been very effective, but nothing seems to impress that girl. Every time Dean starts to talk and attempts to make himself clear she simply sighs deeply and gazes into his eyes or checks out his ass, not at all interested in what he has to say.

It’s infuriating.

Even the apocalypse hadn’t been that annoying.

So Dean finds himself groaning in frustration when he arrives at the store and once again there she is, sitting at the register and lighting up like a freaking Christmas tree as she notices him. She even fucking waves and Dean feels the corners of his mouth turning downward.

Great.

“Do you know her?” Castiel, who is standing right beside him, eyes Stacy with a scrutinizing look, apparently not exactly sure what to make of the girl’s beaming smile. It doesn’t happen that often that they’re greeted with so much enthusiasm.

Dean, however, simply scowls and pushes the angel toward the aisles, more than determined to ignore the issue completely. He’s got no desire to explain the concept of unrequited crushes to Castiel right here next to the canned beans (or ever) and instead indulges him to look for his favorite cereal. Castiel glances one last time at Stacy, further questions probably just on the tip of his tongue, but Dean’s hard glare obviously makes him reconsider and he chooses to turn his attention to the full shelves.

The first few minutes he still appears a bit stiff and not as focused as Dean is used to, but rather quickly he’s once again attracted by all the different shapes and colors and grabs random stuff like an unsupervised child in a huge candy shop. Seeing him like that, smiling fondly at some saltshakers, Dean’s got a really hard time believing he’s a celestial being with billions of years under his belt.

No, he looks more like a guy fascinated even by little things.

And Dean feels a comfortable warmth surge at his heart.

This is happening for a while now, every time Castiel does or says something that is so Cas. Squinting when hearing an innuendo that goes straight over his head. Arguing with the History Channel about inaccuracies. Beaming at a butterfly as if it’s the most beautiful creature in existence.

Dean is barely able to control his stupid feelings anymore.

It became a permanent problem at some point and the hunter isn’t sure it’ll ever go away.

He freaked out at first, of course, because it’s not everyday that you realize you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend. He didn’t know what to do, what to make of the whole mess. In the beginning he wasn’t even certain whether it’s been a good thing or something bad, like some kind of special torture.

But it took only one soft smile by Castiel and that thought vanished quite quickly.

However, the whole situation stayed still kinda scary.

Dean isn’t used to feeling like this, so warm and safe, and he couldn’t shake the sensation of wariness and disbelief since he’s Dean Freaking Winchester and good stuff usually doesn’t happen to him! He’s been screwed over by life itself on so many occasions he’s basically incapable of trusting even a tiny light on the horizon.

It could blow up right into his face rather sooner than later.

But at the same time it feels amazing!

“Hello, Dean!” Stacy’s sweet voice jerks him out of his train of thoughts, making Dean realize that they apparently managed to gather their errands and gravitate towards the register without him really noticing.

Damn, Castiel and his everything are seriously distracting!

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Dean!” Obviously she’s in love with his name as well and Dean curses that one weak moment a few months ago when he told her the real deal and not some fake one. In his defense, he’d been hungry and exhausted at the time, merely hours after a very tiring hunt, so he didn’t even consider to lie or at least stay silent and change the subject.

“Yeah, well, we’ve been busy,” Dean grunts, emphasizing the “we” since he sincerely hopes – against all odds – that she’ll cut down her flirting with an audience nearby. Castiel even nods affirmatively, although there is clear confusion flickering in his eyes, his gaze jumping back and forth between Dean and the girl, probably wondering if there is some history involved.

And the hunter can’t help but cringe because he honestly doesn’t want Castiel to even think that Stacy and he had a thing at some point in the past.

Like ever!

“I bet,” Stacy continues, completely ignoring the articles Dean dumps in front of her. She obviously has no intention to do her job sometime soon and instead focuses on smiling widely at the hunter as if he’s a juicy birthday present and she can’t wait to unwrap him. “I mean, I don’t know what you’re doing for a living because you insist on keeping it a secret, but seeing that you’re so fit and firm, I can imagine –”

“Excuse me!” Castiel suddenly interjects, startling Stacy as if she didn’t notice his presence until now. “I don’t want to appear rude, but we are in a bit of a hurry.”

It’s a blunt lie because they really have nowhere to be, but the angel doesn’t seem to appreciate Stacy’s company and maybe even her lecherous glances towards Dean’s physique.

At least the hunter really hopes so.

Or perhaps Castiel is just annoyed because he wants to enjoy his chocolate bars and he can’t do so without Stacy doing her job first.

Either way, Dean is really grateful for the interruption.

“I’m sorry for holding you up,” Stacy says, sounding totally unapologetic. “It’s just that I haven’t seen Dean in a while and I thought – who are you exactly?”

There is not even one single muscle twitching in Castiel’s face when he announces, “I’m his boyfriend.”

And yeah … Dean didn’t expect that at all!

It’s probably due to Stacy’s own surprise that she entirely misses the way Dean’s eyes grow as big as saucers and how he stares at the angel next to him in utter shock.

Did he seriously hear that correctly?

“You … you’re his boyfriend?” Stacy asks eventually. “Dean never mentioned you.”

Castiel smiles easily. “Oh, I’m sure he did. You probably just missed it.”

And damn, his voice sounds so bar any emotion, as if he’s talking about the freaking weather, but Dean can hear the suppressed anger clear as a bell. He even would call it jealousy if he’d be brave enough to dare hoping.

“Well …” Stacy’s eyebrows climb very high and she turns towards Dean again, maybe to ask for some kind of confirmation or even explanation, but obviously she’s got no clue what to say to this new development because she stays silent, just staring at them.

Castiel, however, doesn’t seem to mind. Before Dean knows what’s happening he feels Castiel’s fingers linking with his own and tries desperately to fight back a blush.

“We just came back from a long vacation actually,” Castiel lies through his teeth (because Dean seriously wouldn’t call crushing a vampire’s nest and burning their rotting bodies a ‘vacation’) and plasters a smile onto his lips. “It’s been very romantic. Dean proposed to me.”

Stacy’s jaw seems a bit out of control for a second before she manages a, “Really?”

She looks at Dean who feels a nearly unbearable heat crawling up his neck. “Um …” he says eloquently, fidgeting awkwardly.

Seriously?

“So we are really in a hurry,” Castiel continues. “We’re very eager to celebrate our engagement in our bedroom. Several times.”

Oh, dammit all to hell!

Dean completely misses the next few minutes because he can’t help imagining this specific scenario in his head and it does some very weird things to his body. He’s sure he even blacks out for a couple of seconds since he finds himself suddenly on the parking lot right next to the Impala, Stacy looking at them through the big window with a wistful expression on her face.

Like a girl who knows that she had lost.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel suddenly says, jerking the hunter out of his thoughts. He’s still standing quite close to Dean, ignoring every single rule about personal space ever invented, and apparently didn’t deem it necessary to let go of Dean’s hand. Hell, it even seems like he’s gripping tighter than before, as if the sheer concept of putting some distance between each other doesn’t sit right with him.

“Uh …” Dean blinks a few times, clearing his mind. “Sorry? For what?”

Castiel casts a glance in Stacy’s direction. “I didn’t mean to interfere, but you seemed ill at ease. I hope I didn’t misinterpret the situation?”

Dean instantly shakes his head. “No, man,” he assures. “Well … she’s been very persistent in the past and I never knew how to make her stop.” The corners of his mouth curl upwards. “Maybe the 'boyfriend’ thing will shut her up for some time.”

His heart jumps thinking about Castiel’s steady voice. He sounded so freaking convincing, like there is no reason at all to contradict him.

“Yes, I saw this in a movie a few days ago,” Castiel confirms, smiling lightly. “It’s called the 'fake relationship trope’, if I’m correct.”

Dean bites his lower lip. “Yeah, well … I think it might be effective with her.”

And not just her.

“Good.” Castiel nods. “I didn’t like the way she looked at you.”

Dean feels some hope welling up inside of him and he hears himself ask, “Jealous?” before he can stop himself.

The angel tilts his head and looks like he’s considering Dean’s question with earnest scrutiny. His gaze is trained on the hunter, so fucking intense that Dean finds himself shuddering.

Eventually Castiel replies, “Yes, I think so”, sounding quite surprised by his own revelation.

Dean simply stares at him for a moment, his jaw dropped. “You … really?”

Castiel squints his eyes and appears like he’s assessing all the foreign feelings buried deep inside his very being. “Emotions can be rather confusing sometimes,” he admits. “And it’s oftentimes hard for me to identify them. But yes, I guess you may call it jealousy.”

Dean lets out a breathy laugh, not at all knowing how he should react to a statement like that, and looks at their joined hands. It seems like they belong together.

And Dean feels no urge at all to let go anytime soon.

After what feels like an eternity he asks, “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

Dean’s skin prickles like crazy. “You … you wanna grab a bite? There’s a burger joint right here around the corner, their fries are to die for.”

Castiel’s lips twitch into a smile. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Dean rubs the back of his neck and tries to shrug casually. “Well … we’re already engaged after all, so …”

Castiel chuckles and squeezes Dean’s hand. “I would love to 'grab a bite’.”

And of course he’s using freaking air-quotes because he’s a weird dork, looking absolutely endearing, and Dean counts himself the luckiest guy in the universe.

#destiel #destielfanficnet #destiel drabble #ficlet #fluff #friends to lovers #canon!verse #fake relationship #fanfiction: mine

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