Supernatural

2020: The Year from Hell

Word count: 1,200

“Where are we going?” Dean asked for the fifth time from the passenger seat of Cas’ pickup. He wasn’t usually one to pester, but the bubbly nerves were starting to leap up from his stomach and into his throat, making his hands simultaneously shaky and sweaty where they were pressed tightly against his jeans.

They’d only been this for a few weeks, he and Cas. Dating. It was a word that didn’t quite feel right on Dean’s tongue. Not because he didn’t want to be dating Cas, because God, he’d wanted it for so long it had become a part of his soul; yearning for Cas with every living fiber of his being. But because it almost felt like they were past dating. Not quite married, even though Sam called them a married couple more often than not, but somewhere between dating and engaged.

And somehow that was terrifying. They’d only gotten together a few weeks ago and yet it felt so serious between them, as if they’d skipped the honeymoon phase of first getting together and just fallen into this steady fast synchronous comfortable version where they were just them.

Cas chuckled lowly, tipping his head to look over at Dean. “Like I said the first four times you asked, wait and see. We’re almost there anyway.”

Dean darted his eyes outside into the dark night, squinting to see if he could make anything out past the dark smudged blur of trees and twinkling stars. “Almost where, Cas? There’s nothing out here.”

Cas hummed under his breath, and something about the sound just struck Dean to his core; a soft breath that curled around him and made his heart skip a beat. He reached over and put his hand on Cas’ knee, squeezing softly. The angel turned and gave him a gummy smile, and Dean’s heart kicked up another couple of notches.

‘God, he’s so gorgeous,’ Dean thought to himself, reaching up and rubbing the pad of his thumb over Cas’ jawline softly. Cas instinctively leaned into the touch, tilting his head slightly while keeping his eyes on the road, and Dean didn’t want to admit it out loud but even the way Cas reacted to his touch was so damn domestic it was enough to have the hunter’s head spinning.

“We’re here,” Cas said, breaking the comfortable silence as he pulled off of the road, following a dirt path trail into a huge field.

Dean cocked his head- a movement he belatedly realized he’d started mimicking from Cas and oh God Sammy was right, they really were like a married couple- and he looked out at the field highlighted in the moonlight.

“Again, there’s nothing here, Cas. Why are we out in the middle of a field at just gone midnight in the-” Dean trailed off, his brain picking up the pieces as he turned and looked at Cas.

The angel was chewing his lip, eyes darting anywhere but Dean. “If you don’t like it we can just go-”

Dean instantly moved across the bench seat, thumbing at Cas’ jaw to tilt his head down so he could press a warm kiss to his lips. God, this angel was his? This dumb, ridiculous, beautiful angel who had brought him out for a midnight picnic was all his? It was too good to be true. He pressed his lips to Cas’ harder, just to remind himself this was real. He could have this.

When they broke apart, Dean tenderly kissed Cas’ nose. “I love it.”

The smile that burst across Cas’ face was so pure, so captivating, that Dean pressed their lips together again, just to feel that smile against his own mouth.

“Come on, let’s have our little date,” Dean said against Cas’ mouth. Cas hummed against his lips, and, okay, maybe it took several more minutes of slow kisses before Dean could finally pull away, but he couldn’t help in. Kissing Cas was like stepping into the sunlight and sucking in a lungful of fresh air after a rainy day, and Dean just couldn’t get enough.

Cas smiled and grabbed a blanket and picnic box from the bed of the pickup and set it out in the field. Dean’s heart was throwing itself wildly against his chest as Cas set up and then offered a hand to Dean, gently tugging him down onto the blanket.

Dean was far too old to be this giddy over a star-gazing picnic, but something about Cas’ innocence just threw that all out the window. Somehow the angel made him feel both comfortable like they’d been together for years, and yet so completely awestruck.

“We didn’t have much food in the Bunker. But I made us sandwiches and I went out and got a pie,” Cas said, laying the food out between them and pulling out a couple bottles of beer.

“You went out and got a pie?” Dean repeated.

Cas nodded. “Thought you might like it.”

Screw the ‘only being together a few weeks’ thing. Dean was absolutely smitten. Pulling the bottles from Cas’ hands, Dean plopped them down and yanked Cas forward, kissing him again. “God, Cas, I-” Dean started to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. His heart was hammering against his rib cage, the words ‘I love you’ squeezing around his lungs and almost suffocating him.

“I know, Dean. Me too,” Cas said, fingers tangling into Dean’s hair, and suddenly they were kissing again. Dean broke the kiss after several long seconds, pressing his forehead against Cas’. Even if he couldn’t get the words out, Cas knew, and that was enough.

“So, pie?” Dean murmured, breaking the moment.

Cas laughed, bumping their noses together before pulling away and picking up the sandwich he’d wrapped up earlier. “Sandwich first, Dean.”

Grinning, Dean plucked the sandwich from Cas’ hand and grabbed the beer again, offering one to Cas. Leaning his weight against the angel, Dean looked up at the sky. “Tell me about the constellations,” he said quietly.

Cas frowned, shaking his head. “You know them all, Dean. I know you do.”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “You’re missing the point. I want to hear you tell me about them.”

“Oh,” Cas said, suddenly understanding what Dean meant. Wrapping his free arm around Dean’s waist, Cas pointed up to the sky, sandwich still in hand, naming stars and constellations; adding on little backstories of when he’d seen the stars come into creation and how they’d gotten their names.

As if by magic, a shooting star burst across the sky before them, and Cas quietly murmured against his ear, “Isn’t it customary for humans to make a wish on shooting stars?”

Dean hummed, tilting his head so he could press a feather light kiss to Cas’ mouth. “Don’t need to. Got my wish right here,” he said, closing the space to kiss Cas properly.

And yeah, Dean knew how corny it was, but he was so head over heels for Cas, he really didn’t care. This, right here with Cas, really was all Dean had wished for for so many years. He didn’t need a shooting star, not when he was wrapped up in Castiel’s arms underneath the starry night sky.

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Dean stared out at the sea of pumpkins, bright oranges mixed with muted yellows and faded reds; perfectly matching the dark red and mottled orange of the leaves rustling in the soft breeze around him. Of all the places he pictured himself taking Cas on a date, this was the furthest thing from what he had in mind.

But they’d been driving past on their way back home from a ghoul case in Iowa, and Cas’ eyes had caught sight of the pumpkin patch. The look of pure elation was too hard to ignore. Dean pulled off, and Cas looked over at him and beamed; eyes softening in that way that matched his gummy smile. It made Dean’s heart feel all skippy in his chest, and he smiled right back at Cas.

He watched Cas move into the sea of pumpkins, hands trailing over the smooth surfaces and smiling when his fingertips brushed over a bumpy texture. Sometimes it was so easy to forget that simple human experiences were lost on Cas; an angel watching the Earth but never experiencing the pleasures that made life worth living.

Casting his gaze around the decently sized pumpkin patch, Dean watched kids darting by playing tag, while others tugged giant pumpkins towards their parents with pouts on their lips. Somehow, Dean knew he was going to get the same look from Cas when the angel found the pumpkin he wanted to take back home to the Bunker.

Then he caught sight of a little stall and smiled; weaving his way around the crowds until he reached the stand. Purchasing two cups, Dean slowly meandered his way around the patch until he was sliding up next to Cas again, pushing a warm cup of apple cider into the angel’s hand.

Cas looked up and smiled warmly at Dean. “Thank you. It smells heavenly,” Cas said, wrapping his hands around the mug and leaning his weight into Dean.

“Tastes it, too. Found a pumpkin you like yet?”

Cas nodded, reaching out to thread the fingers of his free hand with Dean’s. Dean froze for a second. A year ago, hell, even six months ago, the thought of holding a guy’s hand, let alone Cas’ hand, would have filled Dean with panic. He’d never been the type to indulge in romantic touches, unless it was making out with a hot chick just because he could.

But times had changed. He’d changed. Cas had come into his life like a meteorite, blowing up everything Dean thought he knew about himself and making him realize who he really was and what he’d been missing.

He’d never wanted to settle down. Never wanted to really date anyone. Not until Cas. Cas was different. Cas was an angel. Cas was his. And suddenly Dean wanted it all. Soft touches and gentle pecks on the lips. Tangled in sheets together and morning coffee pressed against each other’s sides. Hand holding and quirky little dates. This was the life he’d always wanted for himself but never truly allowed himself to have.

And when Cas’ fingers wound around his, Dean squeezed Cas’ hand tightly, bringing their joined hands up to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss to the back of Cas’ hand.

When Dean shifted their hands away, Cas closed the distance and pecked the corner of Dean’s mouth in a gentle kiss that made Dean’s head spin.

“Show me the pumpkin,” Dean finally said, squeezing Cas’ hand when the three words he wanted to say wouldn’t quite find their way to the surface.

Cas flushed, licking his lower lip before nodding. “Well, you see, it’s more pumpkins plural than a singular pumpkin.”

Dean sighed fondly, shaking his head and taking another sip of apple cider to try and slow his racing heart. “Somehow I knew that was going to happen. Alright, show me the pumpkins.”

Hand in hand, Cas led him to an array of pumpkins, slowly piling one, then two, three, four, five pumpkins into Dean’s arms. It got to the point Dean had to let go of Cas’ hand just so he could hold the ever-growing collection of varying colors and shapes of pumpkins that Cas was stacking in his arms.

“Cas, honey, we don’t need this many pumpkins,” Dean tried to reason as Cas pressed a lumpy dark orange pumpkin on top of the stack.

“Yes we do. Think of how big the Bunker is, Dean. That’s a lot of places we could put pumpkins. And some of them in that stack are specifically for carving,” Cas said, rounding the corner and zeroing in on one last big one.

“Carving? We’re carving pumpkins this year?” Dean asked, barely able to even see Cas over the ever-increasing collection. He would have called Cas absurd over the idea, but the pout on the angel’s lips evaporated the thought in Dean’s mind. “Okay, looks like we’re making jack-o-lanterns this year.”

Cas smiled as he picked up the large bright orange pumpkin with perfect ridges; not a blemish or scratch in sight. “This is the last one.”

Dean sighed in relief. “Oh good, because I’m pretty sure my arms are going to fall off from how heavy these are,” Dean complained as they made their way to the long white table to pay for the pumpkins.

Setting the collection of pumpkins down, Dean turned and looked at Cas. The smile on the angel’s face was blinding, and it made Dean’s stomach lurch in that ‘oh God I’m falling for you so hard right now’ kind of way.

“Good date?” Dean asked, stepping into Cas’ personal space to quickly brush their noses together.

“The best,” Cas replied, leaning in and stealing a quick kiss.

Someone cleared their throat, and Dean broke the kiss to see the lady behind the table giving them a cheeky smile. Cheeks flushed red, Dean paid for the pumpkins and carried the haul back to the Impala, muttering his thanks to the lady as they left.

The entire last minute date was completely worth it, judging by the soft look on Cas’ face as they stacked the pumpkins in the trunk. And Dean leaned forward to kiss Cas again, just because he could, and because he wanted to feel Cas’ smile pressed against his lips.

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Destiel + Cas Flirting with Dean

Word Count: 2,309

Dean was flirting with him, right? Cas was pretty sure it was flirting. Even after all these years of being around the Winchester’s and adapting to human behavior, there were still times Cas just didn’t understand the expressions humans used or why they did what they did.

And sure, Dean was snarky and teasing with almost everyone all the time. But not like he was with Cas. There were moments where Dean looked at him, tongue darting out and lingering as he licked his lower lip, or ways that he gravitated into Cas’ space, pressing their bodies together and reaching out to grab something when there was absolutely no need for them to be touching.

Okay, maybe Cas hadn’t understood what all of those signs meant. And okay, sue him, he may have picked up a magazine while waiting for Dean in a gas station with a headlining article that said: How to Know if He’s Secretly Into You.

But the article was extremely informative. And the more Cas read it in the dim light of his room back in the Bunker that night- bulb flickering and the lulling hum of the machines keeping the Bunker running- the more it made sense. All of Dean’s subtle actions were right there in bright bold print in the crisp magazine laying in Cas’ lap. The touching. The lingering looks. The tongue darting out across the lower lip. The innuendos directed at Cas specifically. The sparks of jealousy when anyone that wasn’t Dean flirted with him. The possessive streak Dean had of claiming Cas as his anytime some person or monster got a little too familiar.

It was all right there. All the signs directed with big arrows to the box at the bottom in bold letters: He’s SO into you.

“But what do I do about it?” Cas muttered, eyes boring a hole into the positive confirmation. It was only when he dragged his eyes away from those bolded words to the bottom of the page that he caught the note with stars around it.

* Pick up next week’s edition for ways to show him you’re SO into him, too. *

And that was how Cas found himself back at the gas station a week later, buying the next issue and secretly sliding it into his trenchcoat to read later. And maybe he borrowed one of Sam’s sharpies when he got back to the bunker, using it to circle aspects he liked as he read the article that night.

While some of the ideas seemed a little out of his wheel-house, some of the suggestions he could actually use to his advantage. All he had to do know was follow the four-step plan the magazine outlined.

Step One: Compliment him. Boost his ego and let him know he’s caught your eye.

“You’re looking good today, Dean,” Cas said, eyes cataloguing the flannel shirt and worn jeans that hugged Dean’s thighs just enough to make Cas a little dizzy.

Dean choked on his coffee. “I’m- what?” he spluttered, eyes wide as he looked over at Cas.

Cas shrugged, darting his gaze back down to the table. “I said I think you look good today,” he repeated, daring to look back up at Dean.

A dark red flush was creeping up the hunter’s cheeks, and he coughed awkwardly before looking away, clearing his throat and scratching at the back of his neck. “I- uh, thanks Cas,” Dean replied, chewing on his lip before going back to making another pot of coffee.

With Dean’s back turned to him, Cas smirked victoriously. He’d officially flustered Dean. He was counting this one as a win. Quietly he slid the magazine out from his trenchcoat and drew a black line through step one. Onto step two.

Step Two: Play into his interests. Find something he likes and conveniently use/have that thing with you when he’s in your presence. Let him know you’ve noticed his passions.