They sit together in the bunker - chairs next to each other, elbow to elbow, books spread out around them, and Dean learns the language of the Angels from his own.
Dean makes quips about Cas being his teacher, and offhandedly asks what he can possibly do to get extra credit.... Cas looks at him with complete and utter incomprehension while Dean has an internal meltdown at how that came out without meaning it to.
Dean's actually very focused when he has a goal - so he studies and he reads and he's genuinely a good student. He practices his pronunciation (which Cas has said 'is fine' but said it with the expression of someone in pain, so he knows it sucks) while he's cooking or in the shower, and Sam remarks more than once how Dean could have gone to college.
Dean still gets frustrated when he can't remember a certain word too many times, or can't wrap his head around a specific turn of phrase, but he also kind of loves it when he says something and Cas smiles with amusement at what he's said. It dawns on him that he's the one speaking strangely in Cas's language now, instead of the other way around.
The first time Dean speaks in almost fluent conversational Enochian he is so proud and pleased but Cas looks like hes going to throw up, and Dean thinks he must have got something wrong again. He doesn't know that Cas is having to physically hold himself back from immediately exiting his vessel and shattering every window in Lebanon with the force of his joy.
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Tags: Creature Castiel - he's a Werebird (a crow!), Dean needs a hug (he's going through it), Dean patches up Castiel's wounds, they have a profound bond, accidental mates, Wing grooming, Wing kink, mutual pining, light angst.
Summary:
When Dean is given the chance to rent out a cabin in the woods for two weeks he nearly declines, but he's newly single and doesn't really know what he's doing with his life, so what has he got to lose. Even if the woods are supposedly haunted.
When he comes across an eerily intelligent crow that keeps on watching him he decides he's going to befriend it, as a good story for his friend Charlie back home, but he's got no idea that he's about to discover that the crow and the woods are hiding a big secret!
--- OR --- Dean and the accidental courting of a crow(man).
The middle of an Angel's neck, where their Grace can be extracted from - wouldn't that be a vulnerable, sensitive spot?
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It hadn’t been Dean's intention to be kissing Cas against his bedroom door, but as soon as it had slammed shut behind them that’s where they’d ended up.
There had been a desperate mix of gripping and pulling to draw each other in – and then suddenly they were on each other. Dean had both his fists full of trench coat, while Cas's hands had started on his shirt collar and slid up to the back of his head.
Dean had a fuzzy, vague realisation (his blood had far more interesting places to go than his brain) that Cas could be completely immovable if he wanted to be, so the satisfying slam of his back against the door was something that he’d let happen.
God, wasn’t that something.
Dean groaned aloud at that thought and Cas made a high breathy sound in response, like being able to make the other feel good left them in a never ending feedback loop of pleasure.
Their angle changed slightly, their bodies one long tight line of heat, as Dean reluctantly pulled his lips away to desperately breathe some air before he passed out.
Cas tilted his head back, baring the column of his throat, as Dean tasted it with his lips and tongue, while he got his breathing back under control. But Cas flinched violently when his mouth touched the skin below his chin.
“Sorry,” Dean said, freezing immediately. Even he could hear how wrecked and rough he sounded. He pulled back and searched Cas’s face – was he making sure he was okay, or looking for signs of regret?
Dean couldn’t help it when he placed a gentle hand on Cas’s cheek and wiped a thumb gently under his eye. They were both shining brightly with an inner light that seemed to swirl through what Dean could see of his irises (though they were mostly dilated pupil). He wanted to feel smug at the effect he’d had, but concern at the flinch he’d definitely felt overrode everything else.
Cas shook his head slightly and let out a long, shaky breath. “No, I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t think I would react like that.”
“I- uh- I mean, I get it man, this is uh- kinda new territory for us and-” Dean tensed and went to move away, but Cas held him close.
“No, please... Please don’t think it was a reaction to this. To us. There’s a scar,” Cas explained, voice even lower than usual, “from when my Grace was removed and I became human. It never healed.”
Dean felt his whole body relax again in relief and he pressed in closer, just barely resisting the urge to kiss Cas again, to catch sight of the thin white scar straight across his throat. The lowlight of the bedroom caught the edge of the raised line, making it stand out slightly, and Dean felt a deep pang of sympathy. The hand he’d left still resting on Cas’s cheek slid down to his neck and touched the very edge of it carefully.
“Does it hurt?”
“N-No,” Cas said, his breathing speeding up as his eyes slid closed. Blue light escaped from between his eyelashes.
Dean blinked in surprise. Wait...
“Sensitive,” Cas added, “sensitive place for ah-angels.”
Oh.
Dean had slid a finger over the scar gently while Cas had been talking and now he understood his reaction before.
“Sensitive, huh,” Dean repeated.
The moment that his mouth touched the scar he heard Cas gasp.
He paused, giving Cas the opportunity to tell him to stop, but instead a hand returned to the back of his head and fingers dug deep into his short hair. Dean smiled, knowing Cas would be able to feel it, and added a gentle mouthing of teeth. Cas made a noise in the back of his throat that shot a bolt of want down Dean’s spine.
He bit down harder.
A hand slammed over Dean’s eyes that shielded him from a blindingly bright blue light bursting out into the room.
Dean laughed, his chest full of warmth, as he crushed their bodies even closer together to hide his face in Cas’s shoulder.
“Oh, Angel,” Dean whispered, as a tingling electricity accompanied the light and seemed to slide over and under his skin. He had the strangest thought that it felt like silky feathers.
The light finally faded and Cas thumped his head back against the door.
“So, turns out, angel erogenous zones are a thing,” Dean said, his voice rumbling deeply with affection and warmth.
“I’ll teach you mine if you teach me yours,” Cas said breathlessly.
AU where Dean is the Michael Sword but meaning that he’s actually genuinely an angelic weapon given human form
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"Am I even human?" Dean wants to sound angry - he wants to sound furious - but his words come out as broken as he feels inside.
Cas says nothing for such a long time that Dean nearly tells him to just go, but before he can spit the words out, Cas stiffly climbs up next to him and joins him on Baby's hood.
All the fight deflates out of Dean in an instant.
A Fallen Angel and an Angel's Sword sit side by side on a car in the middle of the night. It sounds like the worst set up to an even worse punchline.
"Guess I've got more in common with you than I have with either of them..." Dean says bitterly, gesturing back at Bobby's house.
Cas clasps his hands neatly over his knees and sighs. "Dean, do you know why the Michael Sword is so powerful?"
"I dunno, 'cause I'm awesome?"
Cas throws him such a flat look that Dean can't help the tiny smile it brings out him. It fades quickly.
Cas jabs him in the shoulder - the same shoulder the handprint is on - and it lances a jolt of something electric down his spine.
"Wh- hey!" Dean swats Cas's finger away and rubs at his shoulder, hoping Cas won't notice the red blooming on his face in the dark.
"Listen to me, Dean. The Michael Sword is so strong because it's powered by a human soul - it's own human soul - yours. You have flesh and blood. You have thoughts and feelings. You are human."
Dean feels the full intensity of Cas's gaze as it's directed at him, and he is powerless to turn away. He's caught by blue eyes and an earnestness he's never seen in Cas's expression before.
"You're stubborn, you're defensive, impulsive, brave, selfless- you're the most human person I know," Cas adds, something catching in his usually stoic voice.
Dean huffs out a startled laugh. "The most human person you know..." he repeats, amusement and affection spreading like warmth through his whole body. He clears his throat. "Thanks, Cas."
"Besides," Cas rumbles, a note of pride slipping in, "I rebuilt your entire body myself, so I know for a fact that it is chemically and biologically identical to a regular human body."
Dean loudly snorts another laugh. "See, now you've just made it weird."
Cas reaches over and gently holds Dean's hand, palm up, in his own. The move is so unexpected that Dean's brain appears to go immediately offline and all he can do is suck in a quiet breath.
Cas moves his fingers gently, one by one, and presses onto the pads of his fingertips, while Dean can hear his own heartbeat between his ears.
"Uh-" Dean finally manages. Great. Nice. Useful.
"It may be difficult to understand, but you are as much this man of flesh and blood as you are Angelic steel," Cas says gently. His fingers continue to press across Dean's hand, as if now he's started he can't stop. "I've noticed that you are a very tactile person, and you respond well to touch. I'm attempting to ground you in this moment. Is it working?"
Dean wants to immediately deny it and snatch his hand back, but he pushes down the reflex and watches Cas trace the lines across his calloused palm. He takes a deep breath. "Yeah."
Cas doesn't let go and Dean doesn't pull away.
When the experience starts to feel too much Dean weaves their fingers together and looks up at the stars, knowing Cas will be able to feel how sweaty his palm is, and can probably hear the way his heart is slamming against his ribcage.
"Am I at least cool looking, as a sword?" Dean eventually asks, breaking the silence. He turns back to Cas and throws him a small grin.
Cas's eyes roam across his face, almost seeming to bore into him like he can see beneath his flesh. Maybe he can.
"Yes, Dean," Cas replies, the ghost of a smile twitching at the corner of his lips, "you always look 'cool'."
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“What are you cooking?” Cas's voice rumbles behind Dean, announcing his presence as he enters the kitchen. As usual, despite wearing nothing but dress shoes, the angel's footsteps can be completely silent when he wants them to – but Dean is used to it. He doesn’t even blink.
“Pancakes,” Dean says simply, as he flicks his wrist to jolt the frying pan and flip a cooking pancake gracefully into the air. It sizzles when it lands. “You want some?”
Cas must move closer, because his voice is suddenly right behind Dean when he says, “It’s midnight.”
Dean finally turns around, and of course Cas is weirdly close – they’re practically nose to nose. He can’t help the fond smile that breaks out onto his face. “Everything tastes better at midnight, Cas. It’s magic.”
“I’m not sure that it is.”
“Human magic,” Dean says again, tapping the side of his head.
Cas’s eyebrows scrunch together and his lips pinch into a thin line, but amusement and fondness sparkle in his blue eyes.
Dean’s grin widens. “Just sit down and enjoy your breakfast at midnight, man. They’re nearly done.”
Cas stares at him for a beat longer, holding eye contact in the way that he does, before he finally goes and takes a seat at the small wooden table.
Dean returns to the frying pan, humming a tune, and casually flips the pancake again. (Totally not showing off.) “Can’t sleep either?”
“I-”
“-Don’t sleep, yeah yeah I know,” Dean says with a chuckle. “It was a joke.”
Cas frowns. “I could sense that you were awake, actually.”
“Worried about me?”
“No, I could feel that your soul was at peace. That made me even more curious, I suppose,” Cas says. “It’s nice to see you happy.”
Dean jumps so hard he nearly flips the pancake onto the ceiling. He turns around and shoots a glare at Cas, but the bastard looks smug.
The scent of sweet Pancakes fills the kitchen, and Dean can’t help but start to hum again as he adds more and more pancakes into a small stack. After another few minutes Dean finally picks up two plates – one has a single pancake on, while the other holds the rest of the stack. He brings them both to the table, places the single pancake in front of Cas, the stack by himself, and takes a seat. His pancakes get immediately drowned in syrup.
Cas's expression softens as he looks down at the food he’s been given. (One singlular pancake on a plate and he’s looking at it like Dean made it out of gold.) “Thank you, Dean.”
Dean hums his acknowledgement as he takes a huge bite, but he can feel the damn heat in the tips of his ears and knows that they’re probably red. The traitors.
Dean’s hands are covered in syrup so he looks away and licks the worst of it from his fingertips.
Eventually Cas takes a cautious nibble from his own pancake. He chews for a long time, and then finally swallows.
“Molecules?” Dean guesses.
“Mm. But pleasant.”
“You shoul’ pu’ some syrup on ‘em or somefin’,” Dean says, around a mouthful of food, after he’s shoved the remaining portion of his current pancake into his mouth.
Cas reaches over the table and brings Dean’s empty hand over towards himself. Dean is still chewing, so he makes a muffled noise of confusion, but lets Cas do whatever he wants.
Cas leans over the table, and sticks out his tongue, to gently and methodically lick the syrup clean from every single one of Dean’s fingers.
Dean nearly chokes.
But he doesn’t move his hand.
Cas eventually releases Dean’s hand and settles back into his seat. His expression doesn’t change, but Dean can see the mischevious crinkles in the corners of his eyes.
Dean's heart is racing in his chest while his hand is hovering awkwardly in the air where Cas left it. He swallows loudly.
“You’re right,” Cas says gravely, “it does taste better at midnight.”
"I thought about it. Man, I really thought about it. But what do you even get an Angel for Christmas? Doesn't eat, doesn't drink, doesn't even change clothes..." Dean clicked the door shut behind them and twisted the lock.
Cas blinked in surprise. "Dean, you didn't have to get me anything-"
"I know, I know. But I wanted to."
"Hm... Then you have to know I would be happy with any gift you gave me," Cas finally relented, his voice low and sincere.
Dean smiled and leaned back against the door. "Yeah, I kinda figured that, in the end. But I still wanted to get you something special. I even thought about another mixtape..." He pushed away from the door and took a few steps towards to Cas. "But it wasn't special enough. It was driving me freaking crazy that I couldn't think of anything special enough."
Cas's lips ticked down a fraction - into a frown of disagreement - and Dean felt a rush of affection. It made him surer than anything that he was making rhe right decision.
"Yeah yeah, you'd be 'happy with any gift I got you'," Dean said, mimicking Cas's gravelly voice. "I heard you. But listen, you deserve something nice, okay. And it took a while, but... I finally realised what I could give you as your Christmas present. Something I've been wanting to give to you a long time honestly, I've just been too chickenshit to realize it..."
Dean pulled a long piece of silky red ribbon out of his back pocket and ran it through his fingers. He wrapped it around his neck, deftly tied a bow, and reached across to press the end of the long trailing ribbon into Cas's hand.
That trope when two people are sneaking around somewhere and nearly get caught so one of them drags the other into a passionate kiss so that they escape notice.......
That. but it's season 6 Castiel and Dean.
They're sneaking around a building for a hunt when they both realise that they're about to get caught and there's nowhere to go.
Cas quickly turns around and slams Dean against a wall. and suddenly they're kissing.
They're kissing and kissing and Dean is making noises into Cas's mouth and he's pulling him in as close as he can and Cas is pressing against him as close as he can and Dean's hands are diving deep into Cas's hair and the kissing just keeps going faster and deeper and hotter and they're pressed so close together and
Cas pulls back slightly and they're both panting (even though angels don't breathe) and Dean blinks a few times like he's coming out of a dream (even though Cas never stops in his dreams) and he says softly, What. the fuck. was that????
Cas looks wrecked. His hair is a mess and his blue eyes are glowing and he stares at Dean while he tries to catch his breath (even though angels don't breathe) and Dean stares back (even though Dean's eyes keep flicking back to Cas's mouth) and Cas eventually rumbles, I had to touch your skin to make you invisible with me.
Dean licks his lips and takes a deep breath through his nose but neither of them have moved and they're still pressed against the wall and they're still pressed against each other and Cas is still only inches from his face
And yeah the monsters must have gone. so it obviously worked. but
Dean swallows hard. He searches Cas's face and he thinks and he hopes and he already knows what he wants the answer to be when he asks, Why didn't you just touch my forehead? Or uh- hold my hand?? Fly us away???
And Cas just stares. and stares and stares. He brings his fingers up to touch Dean's lips gently. so so gently. and Dean can't help it when he parts them slightly and he sighs and
