“Got your leaf water.” Dean sits on the edge of the bed, biting back a grin when Cas’s right eye opens to a slit. His exaggerated groan is cut off by a nasty cough he hides in his elbow. He emerges from his nest of blankets like a mummy being raised from the dead. 

“Is it mint,” Cas says, like he can’t even muster up the courage to ask. Like everything about the situation is totally and completely hopeless. 

Dean nods.

Castiel takes the mug like it’s the holy fucking grail. 

“I’m dying,” he informs Dean simply after taking his first sip. When Dean snorts in response, he throws him a withering look, sniffling into his drink. “Death is eminent and you don’t even believe me.”

“Cas, you got a cold, you’re not dying.”

Cas glares.

“Baby, c’mon,” Dean says, full on smiling now. 

Castiel turns away. 

“Cas.”

Nothing.

Rolling his eyes, Dean leans in only to have Cas sluggishly push him away, eyes wide. “What are you doing?” he demands, horrified. “You’ll catch it!”

“So? I’ve had tons of colds.” He leans in again and Cas dodges.

“Dean, I’m serious; save yourself.”

Cas puts his mug on the bedside table and turns over, cuddling into his blankets and getting back to his Netflix like the conversation is officially over. He’s sniffling pathetically, and Dean knows it’s fucking stupid but he suddenly has the urge to cuddle his dramatic, over-the-top, newly-human partner into the next fucking century. 

Cas just looks so goddamn miserable.

So Dean starts stripping.

He ignores Cas’s protests when he’s taking off his jeans and shirt and socks, and when he quickly lifts up an edge of the blanket to spoon him. He grins into Cas’s nape when he yelps about Dean’s cold feet even though his socks. Castiel smells like Vicks and tea and stale sweat and it’s not super pleasant, but Dean kisses the back of his neck, anyway. He presses a palm to Cas’s chest and thumbs the material covering his heart. 

“Dean,” Cas says weakly. “You’ll be out of commission. You won’t be able to hunt, you won’t---”

“Mm, and I need a vacation, so...”

“This isn’t a vacation,” Cas says indignantly. “I told you, I am dying---”

“I wanna spend your last moments cuddling, sue me.”

“Dean.”

Dean props himself on his elbow, grabbing Cas by the chin and kissing him full on the mouth to the tune of a horrified gasp. “---What have you done?”

And yeah, Cas is mucous-y and gross, but he’s also Cas, and Dean’ll kiss Cas every day for rest of his damn life with a fuckin’ spring in his step and a smile on his face. So Dean smiles, and licks his lips, and says, “Mm, gotta say, I love the mint but the germs add a little somethin’ extra.” 

Castiel just stares. “...You’re an idiot.”

Dean shrugs, nuzzling Cas’s gross nose because he’s the type of guy who does shit like that now. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

Cas’s blush shows up real pretty on his sick-pale cheeks. He rolls his eyes and throws himself down on the mattress like he’s pissed at the world. “If you insist on infecting yourself,” he grumps, dragging Dean’s arm over his chest like he’s wanting to cuddle. “At least make yourself useful.”

Cas never gets sick. He never gets sick, and Dean should have known something was seriously wrong when he took a day off work because of that cold. Dean should have taken him to the hospital, or at least stayed home as well to take care of him.

Instead, he came back home to Cas half-conscious and wheezing. It was one of the scariest moments of Dean’s life. Thankfully, Cas caught his breath somewhat when Dean propped him up on the couch, so their drive to the hospital was only slightly panicked. 

The wait at the ER wasn’t long and within the hour they had Cas in a hospital bed as they waited for the results of his examination.

Dean takes a seat next to his bed, gingerly reaching for his hand and attempting a smile.

Cas looks at Dean’s face, then their joined hands, and frowns a little. “It’s not your fault, Dean.”

It figures he would see right through Dean’s attempts at cheerfulness.

“I should have known,” Dean insists, squeezing Cas’ hand. 

If he’d come home an hour later… well, the doctor says Cas was never in any real danger, but what the hell does he know? Cas looked at death’s door, lying there on that couch and fighting for breath.

“You’re not a medical professional,” Castiel argues back. “And I told you it was just a cold.”

Dean huffs. Why won’t Cas just let him flagellate himself in peace? “Still-”

“Dean.” Dean’s mouth snaps shut. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“What was I gonna do, leave you to die on our living room couch?”

Cas chuckles. It triggers a coughing fit and Dean can only hover, helpless, as Cas slowly gets it back under control.

“Just-” he lets out one more weak cough, “just accept the thanks of a dying man.”

“You’re not dying.”

“We’re in agreement, then.”

Dean tries to scoff, but somehow it slips into a relieved smile. If Cas is feeling well enough to act like a snarky asshole, then it might not be so bad. He raises their joined hands, pressing a kiss against the back of Cas’ hand. Cas smiles back at him, and the tension in Dean’s shoulders finally eases.

“For the record,” he tells Cas, “if you do make me a widower this young, I’m holding a séance to kick your ghost ass.” 

Quick Post cause I gotta get cracking on a few things - The next chapter is up:

Order of Protection - Chapter 29: Fevers and Chills

Supernatural,  Established Destiel, kid fic, angst and fluff

Chapter word count :5113 (second longest chapter so far) Chapter summary;  Cas might just be a little more under the weather than he thought. Now the household has to deal with a sick Cas. But who's going to take care of the kids when the stay at home dad is as sick as a dog?

Story Word count: 90,569 Story Summary: Dean and Cas wanted children. They'd considered using surrogates, but finally chose to try adoption. In the end, it didn't matter, though they never expected to get kids the way they did. 

It's almost Christmas time when Castiel's two young nieces fall into their lives, and Dean and Cas are scrambling to make a home for them, and worrying about how much damage the kids have suffered that they'll need to undo.

And are they up to the task?

Projected Story end - 2 chapters from now (thoughts about that?), estimated word length 100k max.

Tagging:

Astrophysics and Tea ‘Verse by: casfallsinlove (tumblr lnk - 1, 2, 3) 

Word Count: ~10,363 Rating: NC-17 

 Summary: Wherein Dean (who owns a bookstore) and Cas (an astrophysicist  grad student) have been best friends since they were kids, NASA nearly  screws things up, and tea is mentioned far too often.

“Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

Requested  by @queen-icicle-fandom 

[AO3]  Canon divergent, human!Cas, sick!Cas, bunker fluff.

Cas was usually grumpy in the mornings, but nothing could compare it to that morning. The one where Cas shuffled into the kitchen, nose red and tissues spilling out of his hands.

“I hate everything.” He grumbled.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.” Dean quipped from behind his coffee cup.

In return, Dean only received a glare that could smite a hundred people – if Cas were still an angel anyway.

Cas had caught a cold and had been suffering for the past few days but today seemed to be the peak of it.

“Everything hurts, Dean. Is being human supposed to hurt this much?” Dean pursed his lips at Castiel’s words.

No doubt he was achy and out of breath, sore-nosed and sniffly, Dean wasn’t fond on the common cold either.

“It’s just a cold, Cas. It’ll clear up soon.” Dean told him, he filled the kettle and set it to boil before pulling out a cold and flu drink that was sure to help relive him of some of his symptoms.

Soon enough water was boiled and the smell of eucalyptus and blackcurrant filled the small kitchen. He set the steaming mug in front of Castiel and squeezed his shoulder.

“Here, drink this. You’ll you feel better.” He pressed a kiss to Castiel’s temple making a small smile form on Castiel’s lips as he took a tentative sip and breathed in the steam.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Castiel drained his cold and flu drink as soon as it was deemed cool enough to be drinkable and smiled. Already he could breathe better through his nose and wasn’t sneezing every five seconds. His was still achy and felt cold despite the warm clothing he had on.

“Go sit on the couch, we’ll watch a movie.” Dean told him, holding out his hand for Cas to take.

Cas nodded and stood up, letting himself be led by Dean wards their movie room and landed heavily on the couch, joints aching until he found a suitable position.

Dean joined him again moments later, large blanket in hand and an orange.

“Don’t tell Sam, but this blanket is the best thing in this bunker – apart from you of course.”

Castiel blushed a little and Dean sat down on the couch, pulling Cas against him and curling the blanket around them.

The movie started, some old western, and Castiel sighed into Dean’s chest. Dean’s arm tightened around him and they both settled into the film.

Despite still being morning, Cas dropped off to sleep again and Dean could hear Cas’ breath rattle a little in his chest. He was warming up though, which was a good thing. It wasn’t the best start into being human but he’d get Cas through his cold and hopefully back on his feet and possibly hunting again soon before they knew it.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 23, 26, 28, 30, 31, 32, 36, 37,39, 40, 49, 50, 56, 57, 64,66,70, 75, 82, 83, 84, 85, 89, 92, 93, 97, 98, 99

Everything is the end of the world:

“My legs don’t work.”

“I feel so heavy.”

“The common cold: this is how I end.”

After going weeks almost months without drawing anything I grace you with Destiel.

Dean teasing Cas about being sick and thinking its hilarious that an angel is sick.