Dean sits back in his chair, drinking his coffee and watching Castiel. After a few moments, he realizes that the soft, mellow feeling in his chest is… contentment. He's not happy in the way that a little kid is happy at their birthday party, or even in the way that he is when Cas or Sam has been miraculously brought back to life after one of the long string of disasters in their lives. He's happy in a new and different way. And has been, maybe, for a while now. Nearly as long as Cas has been living here, human, in the bunker.
And then Dean Winchester has a moment of absolute clarity.
This time, he wakes up to the aftermath: Metatron and Crowley both dead. Dean lying nearby, unconscious and a bit bloody but free of the Mark. Sam mother hen-ing back and forth between them, trying to make sure they're both alive, assessing them for injuries, shifting them into the recovery position.
He is hungry, cold, and weak. But he is not alone, and that makes all the difference in the world.
Fallen, Castiel struggles to figure out where he fits in the human world—and in Dean's life.
While Dean is laid up for a month after breaking his leg on a hunt, Cas decides that it's a perfect time to adopt a litter of kittens. But even though he's gotten better since Purgatory, Cas still isn't quite the same as he was before fixing Sam's head, and being trapped in a cabin with him for weeks on end is making that all the more obvious to Dean. When Sam takes off on a hunt, Dean has to figure out on his own how to navigate his new relationship with Cas while also helping to raise a bunch of fuzzballs that aren't even cute. Not even a little bit. (Well, maybe a little bit.)
Dean Winchester has been asking Castiel Novak out every day since Fifth Year, and so far Castiel has always resolutely said no. He’s going to keep it that way. He’s sure of it.
Bookmarked by Dancebird79
27 Nov 2020
“Y’all are sweet,” she says, and nods to indicate him and Cas. “Is he your—are you all together?”
Dean’s still contemplating how to answer this without saying something offensive—he never has figured out a polite way to say “no homo”—when Cas answers for him. Cas doesn’t even look up from his plate, his mouth full of baklava and some stray flakes of phyllo dough sticking to his lips when he says, “Yes.”
Dean feels more than sees Sam go very still across the table, forkful of salad and grilled chicken poised in midair.
In which Cas is human and doesn't understand basic concepts like: clothing, Mythbusters, moisturizer, and Greek food. Dean is...Dean and doesn't understand basic concepts like: boyfriends, language, how to tell your friend that he's a walking miracle, and when not to quip.
- Part 1 of Stories Are Made of Mistakes
Bookmarked by Dancebird79
26 Nov 2020