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hauntedpearl · 2 years

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say what you mean (I want to be with you)

Rated T, Fluff, 2.6k

"When did you know?" Dean asks, his voice whisper-soft.

For a moment, Cas wonders if this question is a question at all, or if it is a thing that is meant to melt into the night, fated to join the half-formed pleas that spell stay and disbelieving self-assurances of you're here that Dean allows himself only under the cover of the darkness.

He doesn't know. So, he doesn't answer.

Instead, he watches through their bedroom window as a lone grey cloud drifts across the sky, as the silver light of the moon slices the shadows of the room, and waits, the silence settling around them, thick and stifling. Cas almost squirms under it. Almost.

"Cas?"

Dean's voice is quieter this time. Tentative, almost. Unsure. Cas doesn't like the way it wavers.

He looks over his shoulder and finds that Dean is already watching him, silver-green eyes soft, shadows settling into the crow's feet at their corners.

Cas wants to touch them.

He blinks, and Dean smiles, and Cas thinks of the mundanity of miracles.

He turns over so he is facing Dean, presses the palms of his folded hands under his cheek, and waits.

Dean props himself up on his elbow, his free hand coming to rest in between their bodies. His fingers drum a silent rhythm against the sheets.

"When did you know?" he asks again.

Cas knows what he means, of course. Still, he cannot help himself. This is something he has now, something Dean has given him. And, oh, he loves it, this freedom of saying it.

So; "That I loved you?" he asks.

He smiles, because he revels in the taste of the words, because he feels like something of himself settles into this once-borrowed body of his every time he does.

Because the tips of Dean's ears turn red.

A sigh, then, from Dean. His fingers curling almost shyly in the sheets. A nod.

"Rexford," Cas says, and even now, even after everything, something almost-sharp twists in his stomach. An echo of a feeling that once seemed impossible to bear.

His eyes flit between Dean's, searching, and by the heavens, he doesn't know what he is looking for, only that he is. He watches, then, as they widen, as something in them dims. As his jaw slackens.

And because Cas knows Dean — knows that the subtle tension in his shoulders means he will speak, will apologize, will curl into himself for the things he is forgiven for, even if the forgetting is hard to do —, he speaks, hasty.

His eyes slide over Dean's shoulders to the door to his back and he says, "I was angry with you, for a time. But, I thought — I thought it was all anger. I thought that was all there was."

He chances a glance at Dean, before turning back to the door once more.

"I thought I would never see you again. And I thought I wouldn't want to, either. But, you showed up anyway," he says, and his eyes slip close. "And I was happy."

He can picture it now like it was only the day before, the way Dean had swaggered up to the register with a wide smile and a packet of beef jerky. Something in Cas had gone still, then, and he'd felt...he'd felt. So much.

"It didn't make sense," he says, now, and he looks back at Dean to find him staring at him like he's trying to look for something, too. Like he's trying to piece it together from the creases in Cas' ageing, human skin. "And it was all. Overwhelming."

Something in his throat clicks, and he swallows. He doesn't need to say all this, but he wants to. He can.

"And when you left," he pauses, and here, here, the place between his eyebrows begins to itch, the back of his eyes stinging already. He blinks, slips a hand from under his cheek to press to his chest. "It was like something was clawing at this, shredding it from the inside."

There had been more, of course. Cas has had enough years to think, to mull things over. There had been the way something white-hot had crawled under his skin when Dean was tending to his injured hand. The way his body curved into Dean's in his sleep, fingers reaching for the soft touch of worn cotton. The way something in his stomach was aflutter at the carefree, sleep-mussed smile on Dean's face as he'd handed him a cup of watery coffee that morning before he'd caught himself. But Cas doesn't say any of it. They're all details, though, in the end. He wouldn't even know how to begin to explain.

Instead, he says, "I'd felt it before, pain like that. It was only ever a shadow of it, but I had."

Because there were things Cas wasn't sure he was meant to love, but had anyway, as an angel. His brothers and sisters. Humanity. Chuck. He'd been hurt by them enough, hurt them enough, to know.

"I didn't understand it all, but I think it was enough—," he gasps, halting in his words when he feels the cool slide of a tear against his nose. He blinks, and another tear slides out of the corner of his eyes. Then another.

"Enough to know," Dean finishes for him, and his voice is quiet, still, and layered with something that feels coarse.

"Why didn't you ever—?" he begins to ask, but stops himself, and Cas smiles at him, a little sad, a little wistful.

"I didn't know," he says, and he hadn't — hadn't known that Dean would keep him around, still. Would want him to stay, would care for him the way he does all family.

He hadn't known that he would let Cas love him, would let him just be.

"I didn't think I would still have this—your companionship, your friendship — inspite of my feelings, if you'd known."

He pauses, then, "And it was never the right time," he adds, because that much is also true.

He smiles at Dean, wide and a little watery, but Dean isn't smiling back.

"Cas—," he says, and it is a broken thing that curdles the insides of Cas' stomach, that sours there.

He frowns, parts his lips to speak, to say something, but stills when Dean lifts a hand to his face and swipes a thumb under his eyes, across his nose.

He only succeeds in wetting Cas' face with the saltwater of his tears, but Dean's fingers are curled into the hair behind his ear, and Cas is too startled by them to point it out; to care. Because this — this — is different.

Dean touches him, of course, but never. Never like this. He bumps Cas' shoulder with his own, often. Curls his palm around his bicep to hold him still. Swipes a hand through his hair when he finds it has lengthened with time, an almost content hum his only comment. And sometimes — soemtimes, like this, in the dark — he bunches the fabric of Cas' sleep shirt in his fists, tight and insistent. But, now—

Cas thinks of the times Dean had held his face, and finds that his memory is fuzzy, seeing as he had been toeing the line of death more often than not, but it had all still felt — cursory. A reassuring of sorts.

But, this— God, help him, this—

It is a carress.

Cas can feel the just-there softness of Dean's palm on his stubble, the jackrabbiting pulse in his wrist on the underside of his jaw. He can't help the way he leans towards it, into it. Can't help the way a shiver races through his spine at the press of Dean's blunt nails against his scalp.

"Dean—," he starts, and his voice is a fawn taking its first steps. His voice is a pebble that tumbles down a cliff face. His voice is a cry of prayer, a leap of faith, and his words are empty, and all that is left is Dean, Dean, Dean, who is touching the skin over his cheekbone.

Cas watches, transfixed — stunned — as Dean slips off his fist and flattens his arm, shuffling down, so Cas doesn't have to look up at him anymore. He shifts closer, then, and enough so that they could share a pillow, their noses almost brushing against one another.

Cas' heart leaps to his throat, and the stinging in his eyes returns, and when he whispers the name Dean, once again, it is almost helpless.

Because, this close, Dean's eyes are gilded in moonlight, silver-backed mirrors reflecting his own. Reflecting everything in him. And Cas hadn't known— he hadn't ever thought — even as he'd hoped. He hadn't known.

Perhaps, he's been foolish, because Dean saved him. Dean brought him here, to a house made of wood and iron, and a backyard he has willed into a field of flowers. Cimbed in bed with him when the darkness was not just lonely, but terrifying, filled with phantoms that don't dissipate in a shower of salt.

Had....stayed.

And Cas had known — always, perhaps — that there was love there. Of a kind. Love that permeates the the tenuous boundaries of friendship, perhaps, but one that's nestled in the comfortable ones of family. Cas had never sought to have Dean. He wanted, yes. But he hadn't thought himself wanted in kind. Or deserving of it, at any rate. Because it was Dean.

Dean, who, for all his flaws, was still kind and good. An embodiment of all the things that made humanity so remarkable. Dean, who...who...

Cas gulps, then, clenches his eyes shut even as his throat tightens. He cannot bear to look at Dean....

...who brings him to a vendor that makes honey and grape jelly and applesauce at the dawn of every Sunday. Who cooks for him. Who fixes the tears in his favourite sweaters.

Who whispers desperate pleas to him when he thinks him asleep, begging him to just God, Cas, please don't leave.

Stay. Just stay.

Maybe he's been foolish this whole time. For not seeing, never seeing, what was in front of him. Or, he is a fool now, for letting the stubborn hope in him bloom, for seeing it at all.

He doesn't know.

He wants to. He wants to. He wants to.

He clasps Dean's wrist with his hand, and bunches Dean's t-shirt in the fist of the other, hauling him closer by a hairsbreadth.

When he opens his eyes to look, Dean is smiling, a lopsided thing that blooms on his lips. There's something there, in the way they curve, like he is glad of the glint of revelation he's seeing in Cas' eyes. Like he's been waiting for it.

Cas' lips part in a breath of a question.

Dean answers, like he's heard it.

"I win."

And it isn't smug, isn't mocking. It is a secret whispered to the darkness, but it is meant for him — meant for Cas — and he doesn't know what it means, not yet, but he is waiting. He is waiting.

"I have you beat," Dean says, bringing his forehead to rest against Cas', tracing the line of Cas' nose with the tip of his own, "by over a year."

It takes Cas a few moments to parse through those words, for their meaning to sink in.

When did you know? Dean had asked him.

When did you know you loved me?

I have you beat.

And Cas stares. He stares at Dean, and he knows his eyes are wide and watery, but he doesn't dare to even blink. He trembles in this half-embrace he is locked in, his blood fizzing with a mixture of joy, and disbelief, and regret, and Cas can't bring himself to say anything, not yet, because he is still waiting.

This should be enough, it should, but he needs more. He wants more.

Idiot, he wants to say. You're an idiot. And I'm a fool.

But he can't.

So he stares, and waits. And then watches Dean lick his lips, watches the way his throat bobs as he swallows, and then.

And then.

"I'm— I'm not. Good with words," he says, ducks his eyes a little. "Not like you are."

Cas doesn't think he is, either. Doesn't think he has a right to that compliment anymore. Because he wants to tell Dean, to ask him for this one thing. Because he needs. He needs.

"I, uh, I can't do the whole speech, man," Dean says, and chuckles, wet and broken, and it is the most beautiful sound Cas has ever heard. "But I can give you this."

There is a second there, when Dean looks at him, something inexplicable shining in his eyes, something tender in his touch as he pulls Cas closer, something like wonder in his gaze as it shifts from Cas' own to the swell of his cheeks, to his parted lips.

Only a second.

And then Dean kisses him. And kisses him. And kisses him.

And Cas isn't waiting anymore.

He is dizzy with a feeling he cannot even put a name to.

Dean kisses him like he's been starved of this, of Cas. Like it is life. Like it is salvation. And Cas chases his lips with just as much fervour, his mind whirring, his blood singing with want, want, want, his only guide.

There is an I love you in the way Dean's lips close around his own. An I want you in the way he drags his teeth against Cas' bottom lip. An I need you in whimper lodged in his throat that Cas swallows. An I'm sorry in the flutter of his eyelashes against Cas' cheeks.

Stay, stay, stay, in the way that he cradles Cas' face, through each kiss, their bodies bent awkwardly, curving towards each other.

When they part, Cas' lungs are burning, and his eyes itch with salt that is beginning to crust and their noses are wet from both their tears, but Cas cannot, for the life of him, bring himself to care. He pants against Dean's lips, every breath bringing them close enough to brush his, still, and he doesn't ever want to move.

"I—God, Cas," Dean says before he presses their open, panting mouths together once more — brief, but insistent. When he pulls back, again, he says, breathless, "I love you, too. In case, you know, it wasn't clear."

And Cas' eyes are still closed, a part of him terrified that this is all just a cruel dream, waiting to be shattered. But he can't help it, the giddiness that overtakes him. The disbelief that mixes with a happiness so pure, he wonders how he had settled for not having before.

He can't help it.

He laughs, joyful. A beat, and then Dean laughs with him.

Later, Later, much later, Cas lies on his stomach, his face pressed into the hollow of Dean's throat, Dean's fingers running through the sweaty strands of his hair.

The silence, now, is light and full, all at once, and Cas presses his lips to Dean's collarbone. Says, "I didn't know until later, maybe, but I think I've loved you since the moment I touched your soul."

Because it's true.

Because he has.

Dean's fingers still in hair. A beat, then another. And then he says, voice thick with an emotion Cas had always found hard to interpret, but thinks he knows now, and knows well, "Yeah? I think, me, too. Yeah. Me, too."

Cas smiles into Dean's skin. And Dean resumes his petting of Cas' hair, lulling him to sleep.

He dreams, that night, of nothing.

#destiel #fanfic #post-canon #doe's writing #deancas fics #I've been thinking about this fic for so long i finally wrote it god bless #I'll put it on my ao3 later <33 #uhh if this flops rip i still tried. i also don't have a tag list so lmk if you ever want in etc #anyway i write sometimes!

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fanovember · 6 months

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SECOND DAY

1. Corruption arc

2. Faerie

3. Robots/SciFi

4. Coffee Shop AU

5. Mermaids

6. Only one bed

7. friends to lovers

8. stress baking

9. Vampires

10. Online dating

11. Amnesia

12. Ghosts

13. Polyamorous

14. Adopted child

15. Pirates

16. Hurt/comfort

17. witches

18. Slice of life

19. idiots in love

20. established relationship

21. Found family

22. miscommunication

23. DnD

24. insomnia

25. Fake dating

26. protective

27. soulmates

28. Angel/demon

29. enemies to lovers

30. magic school

Remember to use the hashtag Fanovember or mention this blog in your post so I can reblog it!

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glygriffe · 3 months

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Fic rec for the first month of 2024

What can I say? I read fics and visualize all the lovely images in my head instead of creating something new. It's the best way to procrastinate. It almost feels like co-creating.

Here are my favourite stories read in January

Supernatural

Said the Salmon to the Sea: a wonderful one-shot about water-creature Dean reflecting on self-change. By @bendingsignpost (Dean x Castiel)

Touch Starved: a little fluff and angst by @silent-stories (Dean x GN!Reader)

Memory Lane - Sam Winchester: Reader is an old friend of Sam and they revisit some of their time together at the university. A short prompt story by @girls-alias (Sam & Reader)

It Just Happened: a small AU fic where Dean « accidentally » kissed Castiel by @one-more-offbeat-anthem (Destiel)

Regarding Sam: a missing scenes/coda fic around the episode Regarding Dean, from the POV of Rowena. By @amaranthhiding (Rowena x Sam)

Inner Demon: a Crowley against humanity fic (in the same sense Metatron says to Castiel that humanity is his weakness if I say so myself), written by @petrichoravellichor on AO3. Set during 10x02: Reichenbach. (Crowley x Dean)

The Rest: an angsty fic inspired by a Station Breaks song. Original characters and old favourites appear in this story by @mrswhozeewhatsis. (No pairing)

Original Work

Untitled original work: a short prompted sci-fi story about war androids and humanity by @fox-bright (No pairing)

#spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #rec list #destiel fic #samwena #gen fic

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scoobydoofenshmirtz · 1 year

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fic recs for...no particular reason

[Image ID: Screenshot of Ben Wyatt from Parks and Rec saying "Pizza? Never heard of it," edited so that "pizza" is replaced with "finale." /.End ID]

Wild that after 15 seasons Supernatural never actually had a finale. Oh well, we have fanfic. Here's a collection of some of my fav fics that fill the void of never having a finale. Click here for my full rec list.

Recs under the cut sorted by category, listed by wordcount

Post-canon

dean's coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester T, 4,106

Hey Stud by mrhd M, 4,715

Perihelion by someonetoanyone e, 11,610

Haircuts and Harboring Hope by City_Of_Paper_And_Ink T, 14,558

six hundred sundays (and many more) by sobsicles M, 15,689

Learning Curve (I just want to say I love you) by tsujiharu M, 20,206

*thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden E, 20,883

Good Times, Bad Times, Past Times by LazarusRose E, 25,313

swimming with the fish pond fishes by februyuri E, 25,674

so good at crashing in by Wintertree M, 26,430

Fenario by ftmsteverogers E, 47,085

the home we make together by vaudelin E, 48,133

The Things You Cannot Change by marbleflan E, 67,867

Right Where You Left Me by outdean E, 93,581

*take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden E, 95,043

take the bones, begin anew by JustStandingHere M, 103,254

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d’s to the destination) by sobsicles E, 108,427

*written pre november 2020

Fix-its

We always were but never knew it by frightfullyrude G, 3,819

The Jensen Mistake by fellshish T, 5,087

foundations by rhinestoneangels (almondrose) T, 6,236

of fire and circles by rhinestoneangels (almondrose) T, 7,939

adam bites the apple by sicsempertyrannis T, 10,946

the valley of the shadow of death (keep walking) by p1013 E, 16,006

Waveform Frequency by LeverDrift M, 20,419

On Labor by a_good_soldier E, 24,661

Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover by ImYourHoneyBee E, 26,300

Orbital Velocity Around a Celestial Body by LeverDrift, M, 26,718

things happen (they do, they do, they do) by sobsicles E, 27,918

according to all known laws of life/and he’s back (with a mind of his own) by sobsicles E, 29,727/38,219

straw house, straw dog by bsmith0708 E, 31,646

fools and pilgrims by lagaudiere T, 31,904

if it all fell to pieces tomorrow by spocklee M, 37,130

Fracture Mechanics by Rend_Herring E, 43,442

ascend by quiettewandering M, 53,277

Heart’s on Fire by chaoticdean, savetheclaypots E, 72,017

#destiel #deancas #fanfic #fic recs #all these can be found in my full list with my specific recommendations but i thought it would be nice to have them in a lil post #also no heaven fics because what are you talking about what finale?

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theficlistpodcast · 1 year

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It was our absolute honor to have THEE @icaruspendragon on our podcast this year! We read some more college AU fics and had a grand ol' time talking about one of the best Destiel fics ever ❤️

#2022 fic list highlights #icaruspendragon #the fic list #fic list fam #fandom podcast #fanfiction podcast #podcast #destiel #supernatural #college au #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #tiktok #another queue bites the dust

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wigglebox · 2 years

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Fairytale

Rated: G | AO3 link | Words: 847 | Beta: No Beta | Tags: Domestic Fluff, Post Canon

Excerpt:

“You left your coffee on the counter again,” a voice to Dean’s right said. Dean turned and saw a pair of legs clad in pinstripe pajama pants. His gaze traveled up as he saw Cas standing on the porch step, holding two mugs of steaming coffee. Dean smiled and reached up.

“At least you caught it before it got cold again,” he said, taking the mug from Cas so Cas could sit down next to Dean on the porch step.

Cas opened his mouth but Dean shook his head before the words could come out.

“It tastes different when I microwave it.”

The familiar rebuttal, one that Cas’s heard at least once a week, drew a soft laugh from Cas as he settled down next to Dean.

The two sat in silence as they took in the early June morning. The shallow fog hadn’t lifted entirely as the sun broke the horizon only ten minutes before. The dew sparkled in the filtered light and birds in the trees behind the house chirped away, louder than their alarms.

Read on AO3

#spnfanart #destiel #destiel fanart #destiel fic #spncreatorsdaily #spnfic #spn fanfic #mspnfic #mdeancasfic #mficwriting #5001000words #unbetad #rated:g #first of the pride month prompts i'm taking from some generic random prompts list from last year #wlakefjlakwje it's not specifically pride themed #but dammit i'm going to make them gay anyway bc we do that anyway xD #anyway i have a soft spot for the farm house post canon #it's been a dream of mine since 2019 and i will never let it die #also there's another piece i'm working on that shows another angle of this front yard with slightly more detail lol #but it may be a little delayed #i'm already one day late with this oh no!#but yeah it's hard for writing and drawing motivations to exist at the same time in my adhd brain #i can usualyl draw and do other things other than writing #and i can usually write and o other thains other than drawing #but writing and drawing just butt heads in my brain for attention #so this is my attempt at making them get along lmao #this is unbetad so if you see any bad errors just lmk politely please!

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jimmynovac · 10 days

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sigh. what if to celebrate today i finally read beat sheet.

#help im really considering it.#like i have the time but do i WANT TO??? do i really want to read destiel fanfic right now. is that a problem i need in my life rn #i can't add the Madness to my list of current issues. but it beckons me.........

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sugarunes · 1 year

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being a newbie to a fandom and hoarding all the classic literature fanfics to read like a giddy hamster with its cheeks entirely too full of food is the best feeling ever

#i literally have a google doc and a marked for later list of HUNDREDS OF FICS #im living my best life im thriving #that one post where they talk about how rich fandoms are #i expected a lot but i didnt expect how fucking lifechanging the fanfics and art will be!!!#yes this is about #destiel #supernatural #runes talks

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bloodydeanwinchester · 2 years

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your fanfic taste is so immaculate so please give me your all time top 10 spn fics, thx

omg anon i am SO fucking honored that you think that!!! but also i feel like such a fraud answering this because like...i just started reading fanfic at the beginning of 2022 and so i've only read about 45 long fics so far... soooo i just want to answer this with the caveat that there are SO many good fics that i haven't read yet. but so far these have been my top ten (mostly in order of most favorite but it gets harder after like the first half):

1. take me home country roads by saltyfeathers (canon demon dean)

2. crossing lines by sometimeswelose (canon s15) - beware this one made me cry harder than anything i've ever read

3. spirit of the west by teen_dean (90's horsegirl dean au)

4. to build a home by intothesilentland (childhood friends to enemies to lovers au)

5. the dean winchester beat sheet by saltyfeathers (college au)

6. a room of ones own by northernsparrow (canon like s8/9 i think?)

7. a complete kingdom by komodobits (canon case fic) - beware this one literally gave me nightmares and is the only one on my list that doesn't really have a happy ending (in fact the ending still kind of haunts me)

8. fenario by ftmsteverogers (post series canon)

9. 91 whiskey komodobits (wwII au)

10. right where you left me by outdean (post series canon)

and i want to give an honorable mention to last call before close by kathscradle (post series canon) because it isn't finished yet BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!

also i am kind of a nerd so i track and give a rating to all of the long fics i've read on a spreadsheet so if you're interested it seeing all of the ones that i have a 5/5 to let me know because there are a lot of good fics that i LOVE didn't make it on this list

#thank you so much for this question anon i LOVE sharing about my favorite fics #also i am noticing the more i read fics that aren't like fandom classics the lower the fandom classics get on my list...#like there are SO MANY good fics that aren't considered fandom classics #destiel fanfic #fanfic #jenna.ask #anon ask

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bonesstiel · 1 year

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Hi!! i'm asking a bunch of people but do you have any destiel au best friend to lovers fic recs???? pleaseeeeee (no abo) thank youuuuu!!!! or just any destiel AU (no abo) if you don't have any best friend to lovers fics? thank you so much!!

you bet your ass i have au recs!! i love to put those guys in situations. i tend to read longer fics because im insane, so most of these are over 100k. i feel like i have more best friends to lovers fics that are hiding in my bookmarks, so this might get updated later

Friends to Lovers

More Than Kisses - epistolary, two-person love triangle where dean and cas have been friends since they were teens. my Ao3 notes: "the penpal one!! book nerds!!! baltimore!!!"

alone together - quarantine fic, dean and cas are roommates, now forced to be around each other 24/7. cas pines, thinking that dean is straight

Carry You Home - non-linearish baseball AU, starting when dean and cas are in college. also: secret relationship! my AO3 notes: "i don’t understand baseball but OH FUCK I LOVED THIS SO MUCH"

Starstruck - dean and cas were childhood best friends, and now cas is a single father to claire and jack and dean is a movie star. dean comes out, and in the process references a childhood crush that sounds a lot like cas.

Playing With Fire - best friends to fwb in a D/s relationship. part of a larger series with other ships and there's a threesome, so watch out for that if its not your cuppa.

General AUs

Breathe Easy For A While - country musician dean starts working with producer cas. technically friends to lovers, but more of a meet-cute.

Prince Of My Heart - 400k+ words of a royalty/the bachelor AU. my AO3 notes: "red tbis entire thing in less than 24 hours while sick <3," which i consider a rave review

FROTUS (wip) - it would not be a bonesstiel rec list if i didnt include this fic it scratches my little tww and rwrb loving political science major brain right. cas is the president of the US and dean is a restaurant owner in Kansas. if u read nothing else on this list read FROTUS

The Way to a Man's Heart is Through Chlamydia - exactly what it sys on the tin. after a one night stand, dean has to track cas down to let him know he has an STD.

Let Me Come Home - the author's summary says it best: "It would be very inconvenient for Castiel to get a crush on Claire's foster parent."

Any Little Heartbreak - fwb to partners hospital AU, so so good i literally have quotes from this on sticky notes on my wall

What I Need - i love hospital AUs and i think this is my favorite. cas is a surgeon and dean is the only surgery tech he's willing to work with.

I have a million more, so just ask if you want more of a certain trope!! in going through my bookmarks for this i have discovered that i apparently hoard bdsm aus, hospital aus, kid fics, and two person love triangle fics.

#destiel #rec list #fanfic #fics #destiel rec list #recs #bones recs #lmk if any of the links lead to the wrong fic or anything i didnt double check them lol #once i get my shit together enough to make a comprehensive rec list system its all over for you bitches #asked and answered

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hauntedpearl · 2 years

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but, dear, cling close to me

2k, Gen, Fluff

The first time they have a fight, it is over something silly. Dean storms out on him, his heavy footsteps echoing in the empty house. Castiel stares after him, his heart in his throat, and doesn't ask him to stop. To stay. He doesn't think Dean will come back, either.

It startles him, then, when he hears the roar of the Impala just as the sun sets the horizon on fire. The creak of the driver's door opening, the slam of it falling shut. Footsteps coming up the porch stairs. He hastens into the living room just in time to see Dean lock the door behind him. Castiel watches him, panting, as he toes his boots off, drops his keys in the yellow bowl with the crooked rim that Cas made them.

His face is hard, still. Jaw set, eyes flinty. He doesn't meet Castiel's gaze, makes for the kitchen on steady feet, shoulders curving away as he passes him.

But he's here. He's here.

"You came back," Cas says. His voice is filled with surprise.

Dean turns to him, then. Almost rears back. His eyes dim and his jaw slackens. He looks — hurt.

"And where else would I go, huh?"

Dean's arms lift in a mockery of a shrug. He would sound caustic, if not for the faint tremble in his voice that Castiel notes. He doesn't know what to do with it.

The Bunker, he wants to reply. Home. But that wouldn't be true. The Bunker isn't home for either of them. Hasn't been for a while, now. It is just windowless walls of metal and concrete, underground. It is what it was once meant to be and nothing more.

Shelter, not home.

No, for better or for worse, this is home now. This kitchen with the cracked windowpane that needs fixing, still. The living room, cluttered, with its faded couch and thrifted pillows, Cas' pottery and Dean's books. The garden out back, whose soil is staining Cas' fingertips.

"I don't know," Cas says, and he knows it's the wrong thing to say just as he does. He wants to take it back, but he can't.

He doesn't know how to talk to Dean. Not anymore.

Maybe he never did.

Dean heaves a breath, eyes trained on Castiel, and Cas thinks he feels so impossibly far away.

There is too much crowding the air between them. Too many things unsaid, too many wants unsatisfied. Too many prayers unanswered. Castiel wants to reach Dean through all this, split the fog with his hands. But he doesn't know how.

There is something unnamed brightening Dean's eyes as they flit over Cas' face, the breadth of his chest. His damp, bare feet.

Then, he huffs. Turns away. Says nothing.

The silence echoes. The world darkens. The sky turns the shade of a bruise.

Castiel heads upstairs to wash the scent of the earth off his fingertips.

That night, Cas lies in bed on his side, back to the door. He listens for a croak. A chirp. A buzz. Something.

But the night is too cold. Too quiet.

He counts his breaths as they pass his lips, watches the seconds hand of the old-fashioned clock on his bedside table as it moves.

He isn't as startled as he thought he would be when the door to his room opens. When Dean pads in, and the mattress dips as he settles at the foot of the bed. He can almost feel the scratch of Dean's fingernails on the sheets.

Dean says nothing, just sits there. Watches him sleep. Breathes in this space that he doesn't often breach. Castiel keeps his eyes closed and breathes with him.

It is easier, with Dean here.

His thoughts are syrupy with sleep, and not for the first time, he wonders if he should leave. Go back to the bunker until he finds a place he can carve for himself in this world. (It would be easier, this time, in some ways. Harder in others.) He wonders if Dean keeps him here, chains himself to Castiel, out of a misplaced sense of obligation. Of pity.

Castiel doesn't want Dean's pity.

He just wants Dean.

Even if it is as he is now — angry and cold and quiet.

But he doesn't know what Dean wants. Dean doesn't tell him. And selfishly, Castiel waits, not willing to push him farther away.

Castiel waits, the weight of hope heavy in his chest.

He wakes to the soft caress of sunlight.

He blinks his eyes open. The sky in his window is lightening, the purples and pinks dissolving into nothing.

It is early — for him, at any rate — but there is a smile fighting his yawn, curving his lips upwards. He pushes himself up on an elbow, rolls his neck.

Finds that he is surprisingly well-rested.

He turns over and sees the top of Dean's head peaking over his mattress, the tips of his hair turning rose-gold in the sunlight.

Cas leans towards him and sees that he's slumped on the floor, leaning against the bed. The morning light falls over his face in strips, paints half of it golden. His freckles stand out in the light, a galaxy of them scattered across his skin. His eyelashes feather over the curve of his cheek.

He is beautiful here, asleep and uncaring. So very beautiful.

And Castiel loves him. He loves him so much that he aches with it.

He swallows, throat dry. Ignores the rapid thudding of his heart. Stretches his fingers towards Dean, watching as they hover over the lines carved into his temples, the corners of his eyes.

He is so tempted to touch them, to learn their shape.

Instead, he sets his palm on the ball on Dean's shoulder. His curled pinkie sits under the edge of the collar of his t-shirt.

"Dean?" he says, softening his sandpaper voice. Shakes him a little.

Dean flinches, then groans at the twinge in his back, and Castiel winces in sympathy.

The bones in their bodies are tired. Cas has learned that much, if nothing else.

Dean blinks himself awake, rubs the grit out of his eyes with his fingers. Smacks his lips together. And all the while, Castiel leaves his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Morning, sunshine," Dean says, even now. Even when he's angry, and there are bags under his eyes, and tension in the skin of his temples. Even when he fidgets where he sits on the floor, not looking at Cas.

"Good morning, Dean," is his reply, like always. He squeezes Dean's shoulder before letting go. Sits up. Curls his fists in his lap. He feels soft, in the morning, like this. Soft, and small, and so very sad.

What are you doing here? he wants to ask. Why did you sleep on my floor?

Instead, he watches, quiet, as Dean stretches and groans. Then lifts himself onto the bed. Settles into the same dip in the mattress as the night before.

They sit across from each other, not quite looking at each other, and Cas feels his skin crawl. His eyes are starting to sting. He tilts his face up to the ceiling and blinks to keep them dry.

"Fuck," Dean swears, and Cas closes his eyes. "Fuck, this is stupid. I'm so fucking stupid."

Castiel's only warning is the rustle of the sheets before Dean's body slams into his, arms wrapping around his shoulders in a vice like grip. It is only instinct that keeps them upright, Cas' broad frame managing to brace them somehow. His arms wind themselves around Dean's waist.

"I'm sorry," Dean says into his shoulder, tightening his grip. Their hearts race against one another under their thin, cotton shirts. "I'm sorry I was being an ass. I'm sorry I left. And—"

Here, he gulps, and the air around them tenses like it's waiting for more. But then, Dean just sighs. Buries his face in Castiel's shoulder.

"Just — Okay. Yeah. I— Yeah."

He's nodding against Cas' shoulder. And somehow, that — that's enough. That Dean is holding him. That he says Okay like he's bracing himself and like he's said what he wants to, all at once.

Cas holds him back. Thinks he's starting to see past the fog, in the clear light of this morning. Thinks he's beginning to understand.

It settles something in his chest, this revelation. Loosens the pressure around it.

"I hate fighting with you," he mumbles as he closes his eyes and presses his face into the crook of Dean's neck. Breathes.

He is allowed this, for now.

"Me, too, Cas," Dean says, a palm coming up to cradle the back of Cas' head. "Me, too."

They eat their breakfast on the deck out back, sitting on the stairs next to each other, their knees knocking together, plates in their laps — French toast and scrambled eggs, Cas' share of it drenched in honey.

The morning feels quieter. Calmer. Nicer.

Or, maybe, it's just Castiel. He doesn't know. Doesn't think he particularly cares, either.

He is beginning to learn their language, his and Dean's, dissonances and all. And it's setting the hope in his chest alight. He is almost buoyant with it.

Then, Dean sets his half-finished breakfast aside. Dangles his elbows from his knees, presses the palms of his hands together, bows his head. Supplicant, almost. Like he's praying.

Cas watches him, his pulse jack-rabbitting. Sets his own plate aside and turns, when he notes the slight tension in Dean's shoulders. He wants to quell the rising tide in his chest but he can't. He can't.

"What is it?" he makes himself ask when Dean is silent for too long. He's surprised his voice is as steady as it is.

"I...," Dean swallows. He tilts his gaze up to Cas'. His eyes are summer-green and gold and Castiel can't look away.

"I won't leave you. Ever. I'm always going to come back, Cas," he says, and it is a promise. It is a promise and it sets the fire in Cas' chest roaring. "Even if I'm pissed off as hell, even if I say stupid shit that pisses you off enough to kick me out....I—I'll still come back here. As long as you'll let me, I'll stay. I'm not going anywhere."

Castiel swallows. Searches Dean's face for something. Something, something.

Something.

When he asks, "Why?" his voice buzzes, thick and sweet.

Dean looks at him with an exasperated fondness that is familiar. He shakes his head, gaze lifting to the sky a moment before it lands back on Cas. Almost as if to say, Why do you think?

But, Castiel waits him out. He wants Dean to tell him. He wants to know, wants to be sure.

The smile slips off Dean's face, but it is replaced by an expression that is softer. More tentative. Almost shy.

Castiel feels a little like he's flying, a little like he's falling.

"Because," Dean gulps, licks his lips. "Because this? Us," — a palm moving in between their bodies, folding the whole world into the space there—, "This is it. This is home."

Oh, Cas thinks. Oh, Oh, Oh.

Then — "Alright," a gasp, a blink. Fireworks in his chest, his throat. "You can stay."

"Yeah?" Dean says, and he's grinning, eyes bright and joyful, and Castiel wants to say, Idiot. Goddamn Idiot! "Good."

Emboldened, Castiel leans forward. Rests his forehead against Dean's collarbone. Dean stills, for a moment, but then he lets him. He lets him.

When Cas slides his palm into Dean's and slots their fingers together, Dean holds fast, curling his hand into Cas' touch.

Castiel brings his free hand up to Dean's neck, holds him close. Breathes him in.

"I love you," he says, because he can't hold it in. Because his chest feels so full. Because he wants to say it again. To let Dean know. "I always will."

Dean sighs, then. Shifts so he can hold Cas better. Closer.

There's a dry press of lips to the warm skin of Castiel's temple.

"I know, sweetheart," Dean says, and there, in those words, in the softness of them where they touch Cas' skin, is everything. "I know."

#destiel fic #fanfic #deancas ficlet #doe's writing #spn fic #okay see if this is stupid don't at me #i spent like too much time on this but atleast it was fun?#i'm sorry i write the same thing in fifty different ways i just think it's neat when they do love confessions for the first time #uhhhh oh yeah lmk if you want me to add you to the tag list. like in the rb/notes #OKAY BYE

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