Art, Writing, and Destiel

written for @winchester-reload and SPNSummer prompt ‘rainbow road’ rated g | 377 words | no cw | relationships: dean & claire, claire/kaia | tags: domestic fluff, found family, established claire/kaia

Claire, he decides, is no longer his favourite pseudo-daughter. She isn’t cheering, per se, but every time it happens there’s a little self satisfied smirk on her face that gives her away. He knows she’s got a better poker face than that, has seen it in action, so the fact she’s reacting at all is basically her asking to get caught. She wants the validation of winning, of knowing she’s the one causing all this destruction. 

But still, she is targeting him with a single minded focus that it couldn’t be anything less than deliberate. 

He’s okay, not great, but he can beat her on a good day. However, today she’d come in with this streak of determination, staring at the screen like this was a hunt and not just a video game. They’d always been a little competitive though. The last time they’d played darts in an actual bar they nearly got kicked out for trick shots.

He manages to catch up, making up for the loss she’d caused in the first place only for her to lie in wait and hit him again. He wants to turn to glare at her but there’s still a lap to go and he can try to make it up, as unlikely as it is. He doesn't know how or when she got so good at this but she’s turned this into some kind of lethal sport. 

He grits his teeth and jabs at the controller again, watching the track slip away as he slowly regains his lead. It looks like he might actually pull this off and then she’s sent a blue shell his way, properly laughing out loud as his kart flips over again, the finish line almost in sight. 

She whoops as on screen her kart pulls ahead, her guarantee almost assured but it turns into a spluttering cough as a green shell hits her, a direct hit that sends her kart bouncing across the pixelated asphalt. 

Kaia just grins, small and wholly pleased with herself while her girlfriend grumbles as she goes from a guaranteed 1st to barely scraping 3rd, Dean barrelling into 2nd at the last second. She turns to him, and nods and he grins and nods back. 

Prism

Prompt 10 for SPNSummer by @winchester-reload

Other art for SPNSummer: How Hawaiian, Breakfast Time

(Sam, Dean & Castiel)

Summary: while walking amongst the many shops by the beach, they come across a bunch of matching hawaiian shirts.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1161

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⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 SPN summer, prompt #4

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Sam, Dean and Castiel were walking in the bayside area, flip flops snapping against their heels and sunglasses repeatedly lifted to wipe the sweat from around their noses. They had left Jack and Claire to their own devices, the two probably deep in fresh doughnuts or ice cream and god knows what other food they could get their hands on.

"If we’re spending a few days in a tourist trap we might as well look the part." Dean spoke up, tugging at the collar of his damp t-shirt. "I mean we’re still wearing our usual flannel and jeez, Cas, why are you still in your trenchcoat?" 

He reached over to tug the sleeves down Castiel’s arms. "My body temperature isn’t affected by the UV or high degrees, Dean." 

"Maybe it isn’t but we’ll start getting odd looks." Sam butted in, folding the coat over Cas’ arm when it was off his torso. He pointed to the next shop: an obscure, local surf store in Bloomington where they had gone for their mini retreat. "Should be some decent stuff in there, I guess." 

"Yeah, if you want to look like a hippie. It’s tie dye galore in there, Sam." 

"I don’t see anything wrong with tie dye, Dean." Castiel said, now shrugging off his suit jacket to hang over his arm as well. "If it’s cooler than your current wear then it is suitable." 

"Cooler? My outfits are already cool, Cas." 

"I meant in temperature." The angel stated bluntly, unimpressed by Dean’s defense. 

A blast of air conditioning met them at the door, the bell chiming above. The walls were lined with surfboards, bodyboards and wet suits at first glance— the racks of more relaxed clothes hidden at the sides. Stylised with palm trees, pineapples, flip flops and hibiscus flowers and adorned in ridiculously bright colours that would only draw further bickering from Dean. 

He wouldn’t be caught in daylight in one of those shirts unless he was dead, retired or had begrudgingly lost a bet. "Come on, those? Are you actually considering them?" 

Sam had so much as given them a once over when his brother caught his eyes in that direction. "I barely gave them a single look, jeez. But yes, I am ‘cause they’re an option." His hands went up in surrender, one of them moving to push the door shut. "We may as well look." 

Dean scoffed but was the first to stalk over, parting the different patterns and shades. Grumbles came from under his breath although soon quietened when he found three matching hibiscus ones. "Okay, these ones look somewhat decent." 

They were of different colours, a pinky-red, a cool blue and a bright green. Both Sam and Castiel rolled their eyes at Dean’s sudden change in opinion and went over, fussing on which colour to have as the elder Winchester insisted on not matching completely.

"I’m taking the red one, I think it suits me." Dean declared, pulling it off the rack and holding it up to his chest with the sleeve across his arm.

"You think almost everything ‘suits’ you." Sam crossed his arms over his chest.

"No I don’t." 

"Yes you do." 

Sam and Dean bickered back and forth until Castiel cut in. "I will gladly take the green one." 

"The blue one goes to you, Sammy. It really reflects your brooding mood ‘cause I mean c’mon, you’ve been hunched over your laptop every night of this vacation." 

"And? You brought your Dr. Sexy MD collection when you saw that there was a DVD system."

"That is a completely valid thing to do. Wind down before bed but you’re researching away on a vacation, Sam." Dean mirrored his brother by also folding his arms. 

"Whatever, it’s my version of winding down. Let’s just get the shirts before you decide to buy a matching visor as a way to blend in." 

"Shut up." He rolled his eyes, unhooking the shirt and similar looking flip flops. "What? We need beach shoes too. Mine are falling apart already." 

"I didn’t say anything else." Sam protested, holding his hands up in surrender. "I agree that we need other shoes." 

"Would I also need shorts?" Cas chimed in again, gesturing to his suit trousers.

"Oh yeah, buddy. We’ll get you some swim trunks and a decent pair of ‘em." 

A set of shorts was picked for each of them, with the swimwear ones unsurprisingly matching the Hawaiian shirts. Castiel hung back while they went to pay, nosying about by the snorkels and other ocean-related items. The seraph picked up and inspected flippers, turning them over in his hand. "Would we perhaps need these?" 

"Only if you plan on going deep sea diving." Sam answered whilst the store clerk rang them up. "Maybe Jack would want to but I think he’s perfectly fine with a paddle and a small swim. Besides, we can come again if we ask and he does." 

"Should I message him now?" Castiel went to look in his trenchcoat pockets, realising he had placed it down when he began browsing. "I appear to have lost my phone." 

"Don’t sweat it, man, we’ll revisit." Dean reiterated Sam’s point and picked the angel’s trenchcoat up from where it had been draped over a rack. "Come on, we’ve paid." 

As they stepped out into the heat once again, they were met with Jack and Claire sat eating rock candy and sharing blueberry shaved ice. The bell signalled them leaving the store and caused the two to turn their heads. Jack had somehow gotten the rainbow candy stuck to his cheeks and was grinning widely.

"Did I get a shirt too?" 

"Jack, they bring out ‘mid-life crisis’ in the three of them." Claire quipped, displaying unadulterated judgement. "Or like some sort of boy-band that’s trying too hard." 

"Gee thanks, Claire." 

"Don’t worry, Dean. I think they look great!" The nephilim dusted the sticky pieces of rock from his skin. "Do you think it tastes like the rainbow because it is in that colour scheme?" 

"I don’t think the rainbow tastes of anything but sure if it did, it’d taste like that." 

"Rainbows are formed when sunlight enters raindrops and the light is refracted." Castiel gestured to the sky, dumping his trenchcoat, suit jacket, shirt and undershirt into the bag to change into his new one. "I feel very breezy."

"Good, let’s get gone, I wanna get a good spot in the sand." Sam dipped at the change in weight of the bags. "The towels are at the chalet so we get changed, grab them and then go." 

"Sounds like a plan." Dean took the bags to allow Sam to tie his hair up. "You might need hair clips soon enough." 

written for @winchester-reload and SPNSummer prompt ‘seaside’ rated g | 444 words | cw: vague references to canonical childhood neglect | relationships: dean/cas | tags: domestic fluff, established relationship, found family, past childhood trauma, Dean POV

Baby comes to a halt, asphalt grinding gently as they pull into the carpark. Like all of them, she’s still holding on even past her prime, becoming more than she’s needed to be in years. In a way, it makes Dean think of the 70s, when Cas Back to the Future-d him. They way he accidentally set John on the path of making this his family car instead of the Scooby Doo van he was eyeing up. 

It’s a full circle moment, having a baby seat in the back again. 

Jack grins at him as the car stops, still loving being shotgun before he immediately turns to the back where his sister is cooing aimlessly at the roof of the car. “Hey princess, are you ready to go to the beach?” It’s hard to say who’s the more excited out of the pair of them, even if Marie definitely doesn’t fully understand the concept of beach just yet. 

She babbles in response, absolutely besotted with her brother and Dean catches his husband’s eye just to smile at him. It’s something beyond healing to have this, to be able to give it back to the kids; to let Jack be free to have fun without the weight of the world, trying to do good by their daughter and give her the childhood neither of them got. 

They get out of the car, and place Marie in Jack’s arms, watching her smile as he bounces her. They knew he’d be good at this but still it’s another thing to see him thrive, making his baby sister smile his number one priority every day. It’s his job but in the way cleaning his room is. Something he’s expected to do, not something that is his sole responsibility. Dean’s gone over it with Jack enough times that they all get it, but he needs to make sure he won’t pass on his trauma or make the same mistakes his dad made with him. 

He’s determined to be a better dad to them. Hence, driving all the way out to the coast just so the kids could play in the actual ocean. 

Cas can sense it, the little sweep of melancholy and kisses his cheek as he helps get everything out of the trunk. “You good?” he asks, a loaded question made as gentle as possible.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy bull

For SPNsummer prompt 9: Ride

Dean/Castiel, G, 779 words

“Hey, Cas?”

Castiel tore his gaze away from the TV screen where rescue crews had climbed aboard the Nostromo to hopefully save Ripley, shifting his focus to Dean sat next to him on the couch in the Dean Cave. His face was much closer than expected, Dean having unconsciously slumped further towards him as the night wore on and the beers and sleep deprivation caught up with him. The slightly glazed look in those green eyes told Castiel that the man was barely managing to stay awake.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Y’ever been to space?” he asked, speech ever so slightly slurred.

Castiel blinked back at him. He had been waiting for the usual ‘so what did you think?’ that Dean ceaselessly threw at him at the end of every movie he was introduced to. But before Castiel could rustle up a response, Dean continued.

“Like. When we talk- humans, I mean – when we talk about ‘Heaven’” he said, throwing up air quotes that Castiel promised himself to tease him for later, “we always, like...point up, right?” He demonstrated this with his own finger before throwing his head back to rest against the couch, rolling his head to keep looking at Castiel. “But I been there, man, and I don’t reckon I’ve been to space. Heaven’s everywhere, right? Or nowhere? It was in that warehouse one time. That ain’t space. That's a warehouse.”

Castiel had to fight down smile at Dean’s rambling. Though he had wanted Dean to get some immediate rest after the gruelling 4-day hunt, he couldn’t deny that this sleepy, unguarded Dean was particularly endearing. With his loose limbs and intense eye contact. A rare treat, indeed.

“You’re correct,” Castiel said, “we wouldn’t define Heaven as being in space. It exists on an altogether differently plane.”

“Knew it,” Dean said, closing his eyes, smiling at the ceiling, smug in his conclusion.

“But I have been to space, yes.”

Dean’s head rolled back towards him, eyes wide. “Yeah?”

“Many times. I’ve lived longer than the Earth itself, there wasn’t much else to look at back then.” Dean continued to blink owlishly at him but said nothing so Castiel continued. “It was quite spectacular, from memory. The Big Bang. But then I didn’t go much after that. Except when I brought you back.”

Dean frowned, trying to parse his meaning. “From space?”

“No, Dean. From Hell. When I recreated your body, I used some stardust from a supernova to replace what I couldn’t salvage. It's made up of a lot of the same products.”

A long pause followed, accompanied by more wide-eyed blinking before Dean simply replied with an, “Oh. Cool.”

“I wish I could have taken you there. I think you’d have liked it,” Castiel said, wistful.

“Mm, no, I'd've died,” he said, forcing a scoff out of Castiel at his bluntness.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen,” he replied, softer than he meant to. The blinking continued, slower this time, the very image of someone fighting against sleep. Castiel found himself suddenly overcome with the urge to touch but held back through sheer force of will alone. “There are a lot of places I wish I had taken you,” he confessed, even quieter, part of him hoping that Dean was already too far gone to hear him.

It was something he tried not to think about and yet thought about often. The missed opportunities. Losing something so inherent to your being. Being unable to enjoy something you once took for granted.

It seemed to take a while for the words to process, as Dean continued to stare at him. Although that stare was a bit more cognisant, a bit more calculating, than Castiel had been counting on. But then Dean finally looked away, head rolling back towards the ceiling as he closed his eyes.

“You could drive me to the store tomorrow,” he said, quietly. “I need to restock on some stuff. Then maybe we could grab something to eat. Take a coupla’ days RnR up at the lake or something.”

Warmth flooded Castiel’s chest at what Dean was offering. What he wasn’t saying yet what Catiel heard so plainly. You don’t need your wings to take care of me, to stay with me, to come with me. We can just have this.

Castiel took so long to respond, Dean opened an eye to furtively peek across at him and Castiel made a poor attempt at schooling his features into something far less besotted. “I’d like that, Dean,” he said.

Dean nodded, closing his eye once more as his fingers crept across the space between them, cautious. Only to get snapped up by Castiel’s own, eagerly intertwining. “Dork,” Dean muttered.

written for @winchester-reload and SPNSummer prompt ‘how hawaiian’ rated g | 500 words | no cw | relationships: dean/cas | tags: established relationship, fluff, post-canon fix it, POV Dean Winchester, ficlet, honeymoon

In his line of work, he’s been all over the continental United States, crossed repeatedly through every state. But there’s one that he’s never been to, for somewhat obvious reasons. 

He still hates flying, still wants to avoid doing it where possible. But there’s different ways for him to fly now that don’t involve airplanes. Now, his husband can just take his hand and take them away in a blink. It’s crazy and a power trip and honestly not that much better than actual flying for the moment it lasts. But at least it’s just mere moments instead of hours and then they’re there. Cas helps, giving him breathing space and just helping settle him, gentle kisses until the dizziness passes. 

Dean loves him, has marched through variations of Hell multiple times to get him back as proof of that, but even without all of that he would have gotten on a plane for him. 

He’s still glad he doesn’t have to but it’s the principle of the thing. He would and Cas knows it and gives him this instead. 

It’s a better compromise. He’s seen so much of the country, all of the highways and byways, the tourist spots and natural parks, the lakes and canyons. But this is something they get to experience for the first time together. 

They’re in dumb floral shirts. He’d insisted on it and Cas, ready to indulge him as always, had agreed immediately. It’s nice, being out in the sunshine, checking into an actual hotel instead of just some roadside motel, grinning through the reservation name. 

Mr and Mr Winchester. 

He never thought he’d be here, either physically or emotionally. Hawaii is beautiful, every inch the escape from what he’s used to. Even forcing himself to relax is new. But it’s nothing in comparison to the wedding bands, to how right it feels. Cas is beautiful here, backdropped by all the lush greens and blues, entirely at peace. 

He’d kind of assumed in his line of work he’d never have the kind of things other people had. Long term partners, a holiday. 

A honeymoon. 

Cas smiles at him, and it’s brighter than the sunshine sparkling off the waves. He’s glowing from happiness and Dean gets a little thrill at knowing he helped create that happiness. 

That’s his husband, that beautiful man with the silly printed shirt, bringing over fruity cocktails and more stories from whoever he talked to at the bar this time. Tomorrow, they’ll go exploring and Cas will tell him stories from years ago, about history and geography. Stories that could sound boring but instead just sound kind of magical. 

He takes the drink and the kiss it comes with, hand reaching to hold onto that stupid shirt to keep Cas in place for a beat longer, just indulging in being able to kiss his husband on his damn honeymoon. When they pull apart, Cas’ eyes are sparkling in a way that says he gets it too.

written for @winchester-reload and SPNSummer prompt ‘shower’ rated e | 1110 words | no cw | relationships: dean/cas | tags: developing/ established relationship, the post canon sweet spot, shower sex, frottage, they're just in love and a little obsessed with each other

Dean’s in the shower by himself when he hears the bathroom door open. There’s only one person who it could be, especially when there’s no shouts or alarms to declare this as some kind of emergency. So he doesn’t panic, just waits, and hums happily when he feels someone join him, arms wrapping around his waist and kisses scattered across his shoulders. 

“Missed you.”

He could play it off, pretend that he’s not equally as affected but he’s done that for years and he’s tired of the pretence. It’s easier to be honest, grabbing one hand from where it’s hugging him so he can lift it and press a kiss to the back of it. “Missed you too.”

There’s a hum from behind him, a quiet agreement. He just takes the hand and turns it, kissing the palm of it. He lets the kiss linger for a moment before he gently drops Cas’ hand back. 

He’s letting Cas dictate what happens from here; it’s his shower Cas decided to crash after all. Sometimes they don’t do more than this, just wanting to be close. Maybe Cas will leave in a minute, maybe he’ll stay and they can wash each other’s hair and make out under the spray of the shower. Sometimes they do more. The ceramic tub isn’t great on his knees but he doesn’t care even if he can tell when Cas does. Maybe they’ll just kiss and touch until they make it to the bed, laid out between towels and blankets. 

Whatever he gets will be perfect. If Cas wants to leave him alone, his craving for contact sated, he’ll just finish the rest of his shower and go find him after. If Cas wants to fuck him  against the tiles, well, he knows from experience how much he loves that and he’s not going to say no to a repeat performance. 

Cas taps him on his shoulder and he gets the picture, letting Cas hold him steady as he turns in the shower. Honestly it’s not the best fit for them but the lack of space doesn’t really phase them when a lack of boundaries is half of what got them here in the first place. 

It still feels a bit unreal sometimes that they have this, something as normal and domestic as kissing in the shower. He half hopes the novelty of this will never wear off, that there will always be this thrill in kissing Cas.

“How’d it go?” Cas asks, pulling away after a moment and picking up the shampoo instead. It’s so normal that he kind of just melts into it. He can feel the way Cas smiles as he kisses his shoulder like he knows how much Dean loves it. 

“It was fine, easy. Just a salt and burn in the end.”

Cas hums at that, gently directing his head back into the stream to wash the shampoo away. He just picks up the conditioner, massages it in before switching to body wash and gently rubbing the loofah wherever he can reach, not content to let Dean move away for any reason.

“Could have come with you,” Cas says even though they both know it doesn’t really need saying. 

“Nah, no need, we had it covered. Besides, I like that I get to come home to you.”

He’s still trying to get used to that, being able to actually say these things instead of just burying the thoughts deep down. But it’s worth it when Cas lifts his head by the jaw, smiling all fond in a way that mirrors his sentiment. 

They might need to talk about it at some point, about what retirement could look like. But that’s a conversation for another day. For now all that matters is being taken care of, being adored so openly and just melting into every sweep of the loofah against his skin, Cas’s fingers pulling gently at his hair, the press of his lips against his own. 

The slowly pulling heat in his gut is almost a secondary thing. Sex never used to be like this, an extension of love without hurry. But then again he’s never been in love like this either. 

He’s half hard by the time he becomes aware of it, happy to just float on the sensation of being loved until he feels Cas’ hand wrapped around his dick. He doesn’t answer in words so much as he just seeks Cas’ mouth out with his own, slipping his tongue into Cas’ mouth like it belongs there. His hand comes up from Cas’ waist to the damp curls at the nape of his neck. 

There’s a chance Cas doesn’t do more than this, touches him for a bit and then steps away, waiting until they’re back in bed. But he’s been away for longer than planned, stopping for one last salt and burn a day out of the way when they were on their way back from the other side of the country. As much as he wants to wait so they can take their time, he also wants more.

Cas seems to agree with that sentiment, taking them both in hand and jerking them off together. It’s somehow both frantic and loving, like some dam broke. He’s moaning and fucking whimpering and not even ashamed of it, not when it feels this good. Not when Cas is kissing him like neither of them need any more oxygen than what they’re stealing from each other’s lungs. 

He’s not going to last long like this, not with all the gentle touches before and the heat of the water behind him and the heat of Cas against him. Not with sharp fingers holding his jaw just right. Not when he can feel the hard line of Cas’ dick against his, tight fist holding them both together.

“Cas,” he says, knowing his angel will know. He always knows. 

He gets the response he needs, growled right against his lips like it’s going down to his very soul, a familiar gravel made impossibly deeper by arousal. “Dean.” One word in both acknowledgement and agreement and he’s spilling into Cas’ hand, stroking him through the aftershocks until Cas follows. 

They’re panting against each other’s mouths until it turns into soft kisses again. Cas gently cleans them up before reaching behind them to turn the shower off and just holds them together for another moment. 

“I missed you,” Dean says again, needing to repeat it.

Just a little decorative wrapping for the wee ficlet I hammered out this afternoon. It is a dual fill for @winchester-reload's summer prompt event: Pool Party, and Joy.

2600 words, rated Teen and Up.

A newly minted homeowner, Dean enjoys his backyard pool for approximately one week before he realizes it's missing something: other people.

So he fixes that. And then a new neighbor comes along.