#dr-sexy

Fake relationship + Bed sharing

When Dean had agreed on being Cas’ pretend husband for this case, he had not thought through the implications.

Pretending to be married was one thing. It wasn’t exactly easy, what with Dean pathetically pining after his best friend for the better part of a decade now, but it was still just another cover story. 

But being on a couples’ resort (one being beset by what was obviously an angry spirit, although Dean and Cas had yet to figure out whose) didn’t just mean pretending during the day, in front of the civilians. 

It meant sharing a bedroom, sharing a single bed. It meant pretending at night, to Cas, that this didn’t mean anything. That it wasn’t anything more than a minor inconvenience.

Cas didn’t seem to have an issue with it. He’d fallen asleep in about five minutes flat, lying on his back firmly on his side of the bed, breathing softly in through his nose and out through his slack lips. 

Seemed like Dean was the only one bothered. 

that’s awesome!! here is an update on how i have it organized these days - i’m using microsoft onenote, as per usual -

Dancing’s Not A Crime // Panic! At the Disco

thanks dee!! ily!!

“How much of that did you hear?” Dean demanded, eyes flitting between both Sam and Cas in panic. His brother quickly stood up and vacated the kitchen, taking his laptop with him while Cas nonchalantly began pouring his coffee into a mug. He’d waltzed into the room unannounced, in the middle of a very important conversation. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cas feigned innocence, topping off his morning brew with enough sugar to fill a candy store. 

“So you heard nothing… you didn’t hear Sammy and I talking?” 

“Oh, you mean about an engagement ring? Yes, I heard all of that.” He was casual as he brought the pot over to fill Dean’s mug again.

“Dammit Cas, you nosey son of a bitch! It was supposed to be a surprise!” Dean whined in exasperation. 

“I’m a celestial being sweetheart. I hear everything in this bunker, all the time. Including that detailed recount of last nights activities that Sam very obviously did not want to hear about.” He quirked an eyebrow, sitting down across from him at the table. He put his mug in his right hand, reaching out his left to hold Dean’s hand, which was resting on the table. 

“I appreciate the flattery, believe me, but Sam probably doesn’t need or want to know all the details of what I do to you,” Cas continued, squeezing his hand. 

“Stop tryin’ to change the subject. Proposals are supposed to be a surprise.” 

“I don’t think that’s wise. Shouldn’t people talk about marriage before deciding on it? We’ve talked about it.” 

“Right, but you aren’t supposed to know when I’m going to propose!” Dean argued back, sipping angrily at his coffee. His hand told a different story, fingers gently tracing over Cas’.

“Who says?”

“Everyone.”

“Huh. Does everyone say that you’re supposed to propose and not me?” 

“No.” The cogs began to turn in Dean’s mind.

“Good. It’s a hassle to take things back to the store anyways.” 

Dean spit his coffee and Cas just grinned before leaving his soon to be fiance speechless.