This is part 3 of 3
DCBB Masterpost HERE
Part 1 // Part 2
Castiel wakes up happier than he has in years. His first thought is Sam. How can he make Sam understand that he wants their relationship to work? Maybe visiting Sam briefly in the library, pulling him aside and telling him directly would be the best way.
(And of course taking a few reconciliatory kisses at the same time.)
Sam is in his usual spot with Jess, which makes it easier for Castiel to find him.
Castiel swings a plastic bag with a book Sam’s been dying to read as he sneaks over to the table. Jess is smiling, and it’s contagious in the way that it makes Sam and Castiel smile, too. Then Sam is leaning closer, and Castiel’s smile fades because he knows what’s going to happen but he can’t believe he has to witness it. Jess leans the rest of the way and kisses him softly. It’s very brief, but it’s intimate in ways that aren’t fair. Sam is reaching for her hand, and Jess is shifting closer to mold against his shape. She fits there perfectly. It doesn’t stop Castiel from fuming though, does it?
Before Castiel can come to terms with his anger and find a safe way to calm it, he’s taking the book out and throwing it at Sam’s table. It lands on the pile of unstapled papers, most likely Sam’s graduation essay, and the sheets scatter around the table like leaves in autumn. Castiel storms out of the library noisily, not caring if he’ll be banned from returning any time soon.
Not caring that he’s proud to not be the one that cut their remaining thread.
Sam returns from school later than usual, and Dean notices right away that he looks awful. His shoulders are sagging and he’s holding the papers in his hand so tightly that they’re crumpling. He plops down on the couch next to Dean, letting his bag drop on the floor like dead weight.
“What’s up with you?” Dean asks, muting the TV and turning to look at Sam.
“I think Cas is going to break up with me.” Sam shakes his head, sighing loudly. “He caught me kissing Jess in the library today.”
“He—you—what?” Dean says, beyond incredulous. “You’re joking me, right? I mean, this is you. You don’t do that kind of shit. How could you cheat on Cas?”
“It just happened. I don’t know. It just felt right at the time. I didn’t feel like I was cheating,” Sam explains, leaning forward into his hands with his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Did you apologize yet? ‘Cause you better have, Sammy,” Dean says, clipped and aggressive.
“I didn’t. And it’s none of your business anyway.” Sam stands, picking up his bag. “I’ll call him later.” When I can figure out the right thing to say.
“None of my business? Really? He’s your best friend, and you used to bring him over three times a week or more. He’s practically family. And now it’s none of my business?” Dean scoffs, turning the volume back up. “That’s an awesome way to treat him.”
Sam tries to explain that he’s confused right now, but Dean just keeps saying ‘whatever Sammy’. Eventually Dean shuts the TV and goes to bed, not bothering to tell Sam anything when he does.
Dean has his blanket over his head when Sam opens the door to check on him. It doesn’t make sense. Why would this bother Dean so much? Did they really get that close in the past few weeks Sam’s been busy with schoolwork?
Sam gets ready for bed but, before then, he sends Castiel a text message apologizing. And, just in case Castiel deletes it without reading it, Sam calls him and leaves a long, explanatory message about how he knows Castiel feels the change in their relationship, and that they should still stay friends, but he likes Jess a lot more than he planned to. Sam really hopes he won’t lose his best friend over that mistake.
Not that he thinks kissing Jess was a mistake, it was just wrong to do anything like that before talking through the break-up with Castiel first.
And what was up with Dean? He sounded like Sam had taken his pie from him, and then threw it out when Sam realized he didn’t like sweets…
Sam sits up in bed abruptly. That’s it. That has to be it.
Dean is falling for Castiel, and he doesn’t even know it yet. But does Castiel feel the same way about Dean? Sam regrets not having noticed this sooner.
Castiel calls Sam in the morning, knowing his schedule by heart.
“Hello, Sam,” Castiel says, his voice thick with sleep. “I received your messages.”
“I’m really sorry you had to see that,” Sam replies, “I wanted to talk to you about it bu—”
“It’s all right. I know you didn’t do it out of spite,” Castiel interjects. “You’re a good man. And I love you as a best friend. But I thought about it last night, and I think I understand why you fell for Jess. We were never really in love, were we?”
“Maybe at first,” Sam tries, but even he thinks it’s probably wrong. “So, you’re okay? Do you want me to come over? I have time before class.”
“I’m fine, don’t worry, Sam.” Castiel huffs, chuckling a bit. “Just so long as we can be friends.”
“I’d really like that,” Sam says, smiling. “And I promise we’ll hang out soon. Okay, Cas?”
“Thank you,” Castiel replies. “See you soon.”
Castiel feels lighter than air, like the things that were weighing him down have been untied at long last.
Being with Sam was simple because they were both nurturing and easy to get along with. But sometimes people need some spice, a challenge, in their life to truly feel alive. And Dean is like Tabasco sauce, all sharp edges and hidden flavours that it takes the truly skilled to find. Castiel never thought he’d prefer the hard road over the easy one.
Operation Finding Out If Castiel Likes Dean Back
For the next week, Sam spends all his precious free time planning with Jess how to match up the (possible) lovebirds. If, in fact, Castiel likes Dean as much as Dean –obviously –likes Castiel, then they could perhaps come to terms with it and accept it. Sam knows Dean would never try to take Castiel from him if he didn’t have full-blown permission, and now that he knows Sam likes Jess, Castiel is the only one left to worry about.
And besides the obvious, if this worked out Sam could keep his best friend and his brother both close to him for the rest of his life. It’s a win-win situation.
Sam invites them to a nice enough club –which Jess chose –and prays that they will show up at all. Sure, Sam has made peace with Castiel, but it doesn’t mean he wants to hang out with Jess yet. Dean, as well, might still be angry at Sam for the break-up, even if he explained that it’s all cool now. So, just to make sure they don’t throw a wrench in his plan, he texts them with ‘all drinks are on me’. Sam’s going to be a lawyer soon; he can afford it.
Castiel arrives five minutes later, having nothing to do with the text considering he lives at least half an hour away from the club. Dean on the other hand, texts back ‘seriously?’, and then a second later ‘Is Cas already there?’
Sam laughs, and shows Jess as he replies to it. At least Dean isn’t being subtle with his interest.
Jess and Castiel get along well enough that Castiel’s already mostly tipsy by the time Dean is shoving through the growing crowd of people. All the pawns are in place, so now starts the fun.
Dean gets to the bar and greets Sam with a pat on the back, and Jess leans in to peck Dean on the cheek. Sam hands Dean the first of many mixed drinks, and Jess does the same with Castiel. Conversation flows smoothly, at least between everyone who isn’t Dean and Castiel. They haven’t said anything besides hi to each other.
Sam puts his hand on Dean’s back when he nearly falls off his bar stool, and then hands him another rum and coke. He switches places with Jess when Dean looks away for a moment, and Sam orders some shots for Castiel.
“So, Sam didn’t tell me how handsome his older brother was,” Jess whispers in Dean’s ear.
“Can’t say I blame him. He needs all the help he can get.” Dean snickers, taking another sip from his glass.
Jess leans in, draping herself purposely close to see if Castiel will react next to Sam. Castiel clears his throat, and Dean stands, moving away from Jess. They’re almost in sync. Sam can’t believe how painfully obvious they both are when they don’t have their usual head about them. He hands Castiel the shots and tells him to share them with Dean. Castiel nods, taking the tray shakily in his grasp, and smiling at Jess as she passes him to get to Sam.
Sam and Jess move further away to have some privacy, but also to see how things will progress if Castiel and Dean end up more or less alone.
Castiel hands Dean the first from the row of shots and they knock it back easily. Dean has the advantage of having been late, but Castiel isn’t going to let that stop him from keeping up as long as possible. The next shot is a bit tougher, but it brings them close enough that their shoulders brush. Dean’s head is spinning, having nothing to do with the alcohol. The third shot nearly doesn’t go down for Castiel—laughing so hard it bubbles up his nose—because Dean spilt his mostly down his shirt, when he was too busy staring at Castiel licking his wrist. The fourth shot is nothing more than water at this point. They’re staring at each other with an intensity that makes Sam and Jess decide to stop watching them.
Castiel is swaying to the music, backing as close as he can to Dean, trying to give him the hint. Dean grabs him by the hips and grinds so hard Castiel nearly moans. Castiel tips his head back, leaning it on Dean’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean’s fingers trail down Castiel’s sides, breath hot against Castiel’s neck.
Castiel hums softly, pressing harder against Dean at his back, and that’s all Dean can take. Dean spins Castiel, pulling him into a kiss so fast it makes them both feel faint. Ever since that night when Castiel fell asleep on his shoulder, Dean’s been thinking about doing this, and now he finally can.
Castiel gasps when Dean nibbles over his lips, scraping his nails down Castiel’s back, dragging Castiel impossibly closer. Dean feels Castiel hardening against him and it makes him pull away abruptly. This is Sammy’s best friend, his ex-boyfriend. There’s so much wrong about what’s happening.
“I don’t think I can do this, Cas,” Dean says gently, panting in Castiel’s neck. “What about Sam?”
“What about Sam? We’re much better as friends, Dean,” Castiel says firmly, running his hand down Dean’s arm. “We never went further than kissing.”
Dean closes his eyes, his mind travelling down a road of all the things he would do to Castiel given the opportunity. Maybe finding out you’re falling for your brother’s best friend while drunk isn’t the best way.
Dean’s stomach is doing acrobatics, and his vision is blurring, but Castiel can’t know any of that. All Castiel knows is that Dean isn’t saying anything, and isn’t looking at him anymore. Silence speaks louder than words. Castiel assumes it must be too hard for Dean to accept him since Sam is his baby brother, and he moves away from Dean, slipping outside for air.
Dean follows after Castiel as quickly as his legs will take him, and the cold air is a shock that makes him practically feel sober. Castiel is standing near the door, arms crossed and close to his chest. He looks like he’s freezing. Dean stands next to Castiel and puts his jacket over his shoulders. Dean Winchester is stronger than a little glacial wind.
“What do you think of the kid who used to ignore you?” Dean says, smiling nervously at Castiel. He doesn’t add because now I don’t think he could ignore you even if he desperately wanted to. That’s way too sappy, even for a drunk person.
“I still feel the same.” Castiel bumps Dean with his shoulder, thinking about the letter his mom left for him. “You’re still as interesting and warm as you were.” Castiel steals a kiss this time, gripping Dean’s waist hard enough to leave marks. On purpose.
Castiel pulls away and hands Dean his jacket when his taxi arrives. “I put my number in the pocket.”
Dean nods, dumbfounded by Castiel’s smoothness, and feeling more sexually frustrated than he’s been in his life.
Dean: Did u get home in one piece?
Castiel: I’m fine, Dean. Did you?
Dean: Yep. Getting ready 4 bed now.
Castiel: So am I. What do you sleep in?
Dean: Boxers. U?
Dean: You’re joking, right?
Castiel: I’ve consumed too much to search for suitable sleepwear.
Dean: So ur naked. Right now
Dean: U don’t even have briefs on?
Castiel: I couldn’t find anything.
Castiel: What do your boxers look like?
Dean: They’re just white.
Dean: Dude, if any1 should be turned on it’s me
Castiel: Who said I was?
Dean: Ur not? :(
Castiel: It was a poor attempt at humour.
Dean: oh. :)
Dean: so are we sexting right now?
Castiel: Is that what this is referred to as?
Dean: R u touching urself?
Dean: Then yes we’re sexting.
Dean: What r u touching?
Castiel: My stomach.
Castiel: Is that not the right place?
Dean: There’s no right place, Cas.
Dean: Wherever u want is okay
Castiel: But I’m meant to touch my genitalia, correct?
Dean: How do u sound so science-y, srsly
Dean: I’d say ‘I have my hand on my cock’
5 minutes pass
Dean: Cas? Did u fall asleep?
Castiel: I was imagining what you said.
Castiel: And I got very aroused.
Castiel: I needed a moment to calm down. My apologies.
Dean: S’that so? ;)
Dean: How ‘bout if I’m stroking now, thinking about how much I’d like u to watch.
Dean: Would u like me to put on a show 4 u?
Castiel: Very much, Dean.
Castiel: How soon can we meet?
Dean: Maybe we should go on a date first, Cas
Dean: Where do u like to hang out?
Castiel: So you’re not coming over tonight, I presume?
Castiel: I enjoy spending time in bookstores and pet shops.
Dean: I’ll let u know when our date is
Dean: Go 2 sleep, Cas
Castiel: Sleep well, Dean
Dean would be jealous of the puppies getting all his date’s attention if Castiel didn’t seem like he is right at home with them. The way Castiel’s melting over every single furry –and not so furry—creature in the shop would be Dean’s downfall if he wasn’t already so into Castiel. Head over heels even one could say. It just wouldn’t be Dean saying it.
Castiel’s stomach grumbles loud enough that some of the bunnies start hiding, so Dean drags him away from his animal kingdom and into a nearby restaurant. They could always visit his family again some other time.
Dean hands Castiel a menu, and their fingers brush, making Dean clear his throat and Castiel’s cheeks flush. They haven’t really touched since that night—and that involved inhuman amounts of free alcohol. Castiel closes his menu when he’s done choosing, and grips the sleeves of his coat.
“Does it worry you to be seen holding my hand in public?” Castiel says, keeping his eyes down.
Dean looks up, raising a brow questioningly. “Where is this coming from?”
“I’m simply recalling how you would react when I held Sam’s hand or kissed him,” Castiel says, looking away nervously.
Dean huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. That’s true. There was a time like that not long ago. It feels so distant now. And they’ve only been dating for a week. Go figure.
In all honesty, Dean can’t seem to mind any of those things, even though it used to weird him out how much PDA Sam did with Castiel. Dean gets it now. He was annoyed because he wanted to be that person making Castiel’s eyes sparkle, making his skin flush. Sam was getting all of Castiel’s admiration and Dean wanted it. He wanted those touches and kisses. And how sad is it that it took Sam’s poorly planned club outing for it to happen?
The saddest part though?
If Cas asked Dean to do anything right now, he would probably say yes. Things ranging from wearing matching t-shirts to stripping down and having sex on this table before their meal even arrives. Any of it, all of it. Dean can’t imagine refusing Castiel anything, and because of that, Castiel will never be allowed to find out. The power it could grant him…Oh god.
“You can keep holding my hand,” Dean says, reaching across the table for Castiel’s fingers. “Even while eating if that’s what you want, Cas.” Apparently, his dick turns into a vagina whenever Castiel is around.
“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel squeezes Dean’s fingers gently. He smiles, relieved, his eyes shining just for Dean, and brighter than Dean’s ever seen.
And Dean’s done. He’s lost forever. Castiel wins. And there’s no returning from this hell, is there? Not that Dean really wants to. The vagina can stay for a while longer.
Luckily, Castiel isn’t one of those people who actually holds your hand the entire meal because Dean’s steak is pretty fuckin’ delicious and it requires two hands to cut. Besides, Castiel is enjoying his lasagna possibly even more than Dean is his artery-clogging slab of meat. When Dean’s done, he doesn’t even need to ask and Castiel is shoving a forkful of cheesy pasta into Dean’s mouth.
It’s important that they are the same in the ways that matter most: food, entertainment and sex (hopefully).
Dean drives Castiel back to his home, and they sit in the car for a while, not talking, not thinking, just enjoying. It’s been a good day for both of them, and they don’t want to ruin it by saying or doing something stupid at the end of it. Castiel takes off his seatbelt and kisses Dean gently, the fingers of Castiel’s right hand rubbing through Dean’s stubble. It’s so innocent, it makes a dark part of Dean want to break Castiel wide open and see all the filth deep below his skin.
That’s definitely not a first date thing. And not a normal reaction either.
Castiel pulls away, his lashes fluttering. “Would you like to come in?”
Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. But - no. No, no. Not a good idea at all.
Castiel mentioned something about having an exam in the morning, and Dean knows –knows the monster in him so sickeningly well –that it’ll end in a lot of (see: all) clothing being removed, Castiel being sore and tired, and most likely holding a grudge for having failed his exam.
“I don’t want to cut into your study time, Cas,” Dean says, grinning. “We’ll have plenty of time to see each other after your exam.” He winks, feeling especially playful around Castiel.
“I’ll hold you to that,” is Castiel’s rumbling reply.
It leaves Dean with a painfully large bulge in his pants as he watches Castiel hop out of the Impala and strut around it like he knows he’s sex-on-legs. Perhaps he does at this point.
(And when did one of the Einstein Twins get promoted to sex-on-legs in Dean’s head?)
Dean decides he needs Sam’s full approval before moving as quickly as he (and Castiel) wants to. Evidently, Sam didn’t learn his lesson–from when he was practically bare assed and rutting against Castiel like some sex-deprived freak–because his door is still unlocked, and this time Jess is in his lap, her tongue so far down his throat you’d think she was trying to taste the walls of his stomach.
That sounds fuckin’ disgusting, but that’s exactly how Dean feels, so it should be.
At least Dean knows the answer to that question he meant to ask. Now, to wash his eyes out with bleach, and ‘sext’ some more with Castiel to get those vomit-worthy images out of his head.
Dean: What r u wearing?
Sam escapes to Jess’s dorm with the same enthusiasm Dean has when he calls Castiel over for some much anticipated alone-together time.
Dean isn’t a fool. He likes his prey to utterly swoon before he devours them. Dean cooks another simple but filling meal for them and Castiel brings pie. The only tension in the room is from the knowledge that they can, and will, be having sex in not too much longer. It’s a good type of tension, though.
Castiel brought another DVD over so they watch it—or pretend to because they’re both buzzing with excitement and arousal—and before the credits even start rolling they’re fumbling up the stairs with their lips attached, and every part of them connected like magnets.
Once in Dean’s bed, Castiel pulls Dean on top of him, kissing down his face, licking his jaw, and nipping the skin there when he feels the bulge in Dean’s pants. Castiel is moaning loud enough that you’d think Dean is already pushing inside him—which really is too hot for words. But Dean needs to try.
“Have you ever been with a man?” Dean asks, breathless. Castiel squirms underneath him for some semblance of purchase; there are still too many layers between them.
“No, but I think I would enjoy it most with you,” Castiel replies, voice just as uneven. He huffs when Dean pulls away to look at the mussed, dark hair and those eyes he’s been keeping in his mind for years.
Dean’s been with a fair amount of people. Okay, he’s been with a shitload. He lost count back when he dropped out of high school to take care of Sam. And certainly Dean is happy to be at the top of Castiel’s throne, the one that Castiel is willing to bend over for, but maybe Dean’s not ready to cross that line. Castiel’s virginity should be treasured just a bit longer so Dean can feel like he made it special for him, and show him how it all works.
Castiel’s eyes narrow in impatience and Dean can’t help but laugh. The guy is so freakin’ adorable; it’s a mystery he didn’t fall for him sooner. Oh yeah, Castiel was with Sam. Dean probably shouldn’t be thinking about Sam with Castiel humping his leg. Surprisingly, Dean feels no guilt when Castiel’s fingers start fiddling with Dean’s belt and popping his jean buttons open either.
Dean catches Castiel’s wrist gently and stills him. “How ‘bout you join me in the shower?” Dean winks in – what he hopes is –a seductive way. Castiel shoves Dean from on top of him, standing and dragging Dean by his – well, Dean is the one holding on to Castiel’s wrist, so how does that work?
Castiel pulls his sweater over his head, and Dean will not make his diva wait longer than he already has. The bathroom door clicks shut behind them, and Castiel refuses to keep his hands away from the parts of Dean’s body that will make cleaning up unpleasant later. Don’t ask.
Dean turns the knobs, hoping the temperature is half-decent, but Castiel doesn’t give him a chance to check because he’s already pulling him under the spray of water. Thankfully, it isn’t scorching hot. Close, but not quite. Dean peels out of Castiel’s tight hold and bends over to fix the water. Castiel growls and crowds in close (well, closer), hands curling into Dean’s hips, his cock sliding up the cleft of Dean’s ass.
Okay. Time out.
Dean didn’t mean ‘hey Cas, want to fuck me in the shower?’, he meant ‘hey Cas, I’ll make you come in the shower so we won’t have to worry about stains later’. But maybe he should have told him that beforehand.
“Time out,” Dean pants, Castiel’s cock rubbing slickly against his entrance. Dean’s not going to survive being in a relationship with Castiel, is he?
For his part, Castiel does manage to slow down. “What- is it- Dean?” He all but snarls, though.
Dean shifts, facing Castiel, his back pressed painfully into the soap tray. “Calm down,” Dean tries, having a sinking feeling he’s going to end up very hard and alone in this shower soon.
“I. Am. Calm,” Castiel grits out. “If I were not, you would have remained bent over and I would be thrusting into you.”
“Okay…” Dean says, oddly turned on by the thought of Castiel being rough like that. “Okay, Cas. C’mere.”
Castiel’s palm presses flat on the tiles next to Dean’s head, his other arm coming around Dean’s waist and forcing their bodies to touch at every wet inch. Dean lets out a shuddering breath when Castiel’s cock bumps against his thigh. Speaking of which—
Dean’s mouth goes dry. How could that thing fit inside Castiel’s pants? Forget pants, how could it fit inside Dean?
Castiel’s hips stop rocking, and he smoothes his hand over Dean’s ass. Dean’s breath catches in his throat and, really, how is this fair? Castiel is supposed to be the virgin between them. Dean’s gaze moves (reluctantly) away from Castiel’s swollen, thick cock, dripping between them and up to those blues he dreams about. Castiel is frowning, impatience running thin, and Dean is going to fix that. He’s going to make Castiel come apart, too.
Dean’s hand wraps around Castiel’s cock and he jerks once, tentatively. Castiel hisses, his head hidden between Dean’s neck and shoulder. Dean waits a few moments, too long apparently, so Castiel sinks his teeth in. Hard. Dean winces, and starts stroking, the water and pre-come making it sound completely obscene. Castiel arches his back, tongue lapping over Dean’s collarbone, making Dean stroke faster.
“Dean- Dean. I’ve been- ah- dreaming about this.” Castiel moans encouragingly, and Dean’s cock throbs with the sound. Castiel’s hand squeezing his ass isn’t helping either. If he shoots his load without even being touched once, what would happen to his reputation? Not that he needs one anymore.
Oh, fuck it.
“Me too, Cas,” Dean admits, tugging faster on Castiel’s cock. Castiel’s whimpering and babbling starts, a mess of adjectives and praise and DeanDeanDean - Dean I’m close. And then Castiel’s spilling between them, Dean’s hand wrapped in strings of white and the rest painting their stomachs.
Dean’s out of breath more than Castiel is, his fingers tingling where they’re still wrapped around Castiel’s cock. Castiel cups Dean’s face with both hands, tongue plunging in with everything Dean would ever need to know – past, present and future. Dean’s seen their wedding pictures already, and their son riding a tricycle for Christ’s sake.
Something is terribly wrong with Dean’s brain, isn’t it? A mystical brain tumour or—
“It is my turn, Dean,” Castiel says matter-of-factly.
Dean swallows, still breathing too hard considering he was the one giving and not receiving the hand-job. Castiel grips Dean’s length firmly, eyes locked on Dean’s forest greens for approval.
“P-please, yes,” Dean stutters out, perpetually turned on by this side of Castiel.
Castiel’s lips part and Dean focuses on that when Castiel starts stroking earnestly. Otherwise, it’s going to take exactly sixty-seconds before Dean comes his brains out. Castiel’s fingers are long, tightly wound and rough. Dean’s knees shake, his chest already aching to let his orgasm free. Castiel mutters something, and Dean is careful not to listen because Castiel’s specific brand of sex-talk could make him blind them both.
Dean squeezes his eyes shut when Castiel’s fingers twist, his thumb rubbing across the slit of Dean’s cock. Close, too close. Castiel growls and Dean’s knees give way again, Castiel catching him with his other arm. Dean forces his eyes open, and Castiel hasn’t stopped watching him. It makes Dean’s skin burn with want.
God, Dean’s never wanted to be fucked by a dude so badly in his life.
Castiel squeezes at the head of Dean’s cock, glancing down at his handiwork. And Dean loses it. Between the hunger on Castiel’s features when he sees Dean’s cock, the small, needy whimper Castiel makes when pre-come squeezes past his fist, and the look of utter admiration Castiel has when he drags his eyes back up, Dean is lost.
Even Dean’s hair hurts from the force of his orgasm when it breaks free, coating Castiel’s elegant digits and the top of Dean’s thigh. At least the water is washing it away before Dean can consider feeling bad for the mess.
It’s moments, or minutes even, later and Dean’s shaking so hard that Castiel is pinning him with one arm, the other still stroking Dean through the climax of his life.
Castiel does most of the washing up, Dean is ashamed to say. His body was so unprepared for—for Castiel. Castiel’s smile stays the entire time he lathers them in soap and scrubs the come down the drain. Dean watches him with a tight feeling in his chest he hopes isn’t life-threatening. Dean intends to repay Castiel for all this, ten-fold.
Dean finds Castiel some clothes to sleep in and they snuggle up in his bed. It should be weird. Dean’s never shared his bed with anyone with the intention of seeing them again. It’s never been a man either. And it definitely wasn’t ever one of Sam’s exes or friends. Castiel peers up at him with a lazy smile, his dark hair tickling Dean’s nose. But it’s still not weird somehow.
Sam returns later that night, and finds them cuddled up in Dean’s bed, snoring softly. Sam takes another picture, but they don’t stir this time. Sam creeps back out of the room and smiles at the shot he just took; it can go with the other. And maybe if Dean asks really nicely, Sam can print them both out for him to stick into a scrapbook.
Comments appreciated. :)