Fic - Home* - Dean/Cas - PG13
Title: Home*
Author choc_freckles
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1174
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction, other than the massive enjoyment of writing about my babies.
Warnings: Spoilers up through 8.12, As Time Goes By
Summary: Dean shows Cas the bunker and his room.
Author's Notes: None
Once they’d been able to show Cas the bunker, Dean half dragged the angel down the hallway to the living quarters. Sam had just smiled and turned back to whatever tome it was that he was currently reading, glad that Cas was back with them, but even more glad that Cas was back for Dean.
Dean stood in the hallway, awkward and uncertain, scraping his hand over the back of his neck. “So, um. We thought you might want to have your own room.”
“Why?” Cas asked, peering around Dean. The room behind Dean’s back had an impressive collection of weapons on the wall. “Is that your room?” He pointed.
Dean looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. Wanna see it?” Cas nodded, and Dean, grinning, stepped aside so Cas could enter. “I’ve got my music, and I can actually put my clothes away.” Cas made appreciative noises over the layout of the room while Dean sat down on the bed.
“Check this out, Cas,” he patted the space next to him on the bed. “It’s memory foam.”
Cas squinted his eyes. “Memory foam?”
“Yeah. Special kind of mattress material. It molds to your body and then remembers you.”
Cas eased himself onto the mattress. “This is much more comfortable than the motel beds you have slept in,” he remarked.
Dean grinned. “Right? It’s awesome.”
Cas swept his gaze over the room. He noticed that the wall on the right side of the room was bare. “That wall doesn’t have any decoration.”
Dean looked a little surprised at this information, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d only decorated part of the room. He pursed his lips and then shrugged. “Yeah, dunno why. Just haven’t decorated it yet.” He hesitated, and then said, “So, there’s a ton of rooms down here, so you can have whichever one you want. The one across the hall is kind of nice.”
“I don’t need a room, Dean,” Cas said. “I don’t sleep, remember?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, no, I get that. Just thought you might like a space of your own.” Dean nibbled a bit at a loose piece of skin on his thumb. “But, you don’t have to, if you don’t…” Dean shrugged. “It’s cool.”
Cas turned so he was facing Dean. “Dean. Are you asking me to stay?”
Dean let his hand drop into his lap and he looked up at Cas, startled. “Um. Well, you know… I thought. Just…” he stammered. He wasn’t sure what he was asking, really.
Cas smiled. “I’d like to stay.” He tilted his head. “I’ve told you before that I’d rather be here.”
Dean just nodded, not really trusting his voice with actual speech. This was turning into a moment, and he wasn’t sure that had been where he’d thought the conversation was going when he’d thought about asking Cas about which room he’d wanted. He just wanted to make sure that Cas knew he was welcome. But then he wondered if it was more than that. Because if it was just about letting his friend know that he was welcome to stay with them whenever he needed or wanted, he could just up and ask, couldn’t he? It would be fairly simple, just open his mouth and say, ‘hey Cas, please stick around, there’s a place here whenever you need it.’
But Dean seemed incapable of saying the words. He cleared his throat.
Cas must have seen these thoughts flit across Dean’s face and interpreted them accurately, because suddenly he was in Dean’s personal space, almost right up against Dean’s chest. Dean’s breathing picked up a bit, and he tried to tell himself that it was because he’d been startled by the sudden movement. Cas could move fucking fast sometimes, and Dean so often forgot that. It was so easy to forget that Cas was not human, something bigger and grander than human, really.
“Dean,” Cas murmured softly, as he cupped Dean’s face in his palm. Dean leaned into Cas’s hand, his eyes drifting closed for a moment before he opened them again. The soft touch felt so good, so right, but Dean still knew that this wasn’t right, it couldn’t be, because Cas was an angel, and Dean ruined everything that he ever loved.
“Cas,” he said in a hoarse whisper. He was warring with himself - part of him wanted to move away, but an equally strong part of him wanted to surge forward, to capture the angel’s lips with his own, but he was convinced that it wouldn’t be welcome, wouldn’t be wanted.
In the end, Cas was the one to move forward, pressing his lips to Dean’s, kissing him softly, lips moving ever so slightly. It was hardly a kiss at all, more that their lips brushed against each other’s, more a promise. Dean made a sound in the back of his throat, one that signaled surrender, and then he was pressing his mouth against Cas’s again, hungry and needy, his hand gripping Cas’s tie and using it to pull the angel closer to him.
“Cas,” Dean said again, a whisper this time, as he pulled away for a second, his eyes searching Cas’s face, searching to see if this was okay. When there was no rebuke, no movement to pull away on Cas’s part, Dean seemed to relax minutely, his body sagging against Cas’s and they were kissing again. Cas pressed forward, gently pushing Dean toward the mattress and soon they were lying together, legs tangled, chest to chest, exploring each other’s mouths, whispering small words of encouragement to each other.
They stayed like that for a long time, mapping each other, learning the feel of the other, exchanging kisses as if they were air, until Dean broke away and laughed, a dry breathy sound.
“What?” Cas asked.
“I always thought I’d be the first one to make a move,” Dean said, smiling.
“Well, you weren’t doing it, so…” Cas shrugged. He kissed Dean again, turned his attention to the curve of Dean’s jawline, finding the pulse point just beneath it. Dean tilted his head to give Cas better access and let out a small, happy rumble. It was Cas’s turn to laugh. “You’re purring.”
Dean snorted. “I am not.”
“You are,” Cas said, and he sucked a bit at Dean’s neck, eliciting the same sound again. “See?”
“Maybe I am.” Dean pulled at Cas’s hair lightly, urging the angel back up to his lips. “So will you stay?” Dean asked again.
Cas propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Dean. “Of course.” He tilted his head, and looked at the empty wall. “But I think you’ve already picked a room for me.”
Dean followed his gaze, and then looked back at Cas. “Mighty presumptuous of you, Cas.”
“You’re the one who left half the room for me, Dean.” He smiled, a fond expression on his face, one that Dean so rarely saw, but desperately wished he could see over and over again.
“Yeah.” Dean kissed Cas again. “Yeah, maybe I did.”
Author choc_freckles
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1174
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction, other than the massive enjoyment of writing about my babies.
Warnings: Spoilers up through 8.12, As Time Goes By
Summary: Dean shows Cas the bunker and his room.
Author's Notes: None
Once they’d been able to show Cas the bunker, Dean half dragged the angel down the hallway to the living quarters. Sam had just smiled and turned back to whatever tome it was that he was currently reading, glad that Cas was back with them, but even more glad that Cas was back for Dean.
Dean stood in the hallway, awkward and uncertain, scraping his hand over the back of his neck. “So, um. We thought you might want to have your own room.”
“Why?” Cas asked, peering around Dean. The room behind Dean’s back had an impressive collection of weapons on the wall. “Is that your room?” He pointed.
Dean looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. Wanna see it?” Cas nodded, and Dean, grinning, stepped aside so Cas could enter. “I’ve got my music, and I can actually put my clothes away.” Cas made appreciative noises over the layout of the room while Dean sat down on the bed.
“Check this out, Cas,” he patted the space next to him on the bed. “It’s memory foam.”
Cas squinted his eyes. “Memory foam?”
“Yeah. Special kind of mattress material. It molds to your body and then remembers you.”
Cas eased himself onto the mattress. “This is much more comfortable than the motel beds you have slept in,” he remarked.
Dean grinned. “Right? It’s awesome.”
Cas swept his gaze over the room. He noticed that the wall on the right side of the room was bare. “That wall doesn’t have any decoration.”
Dean looked a little surprised at this information, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d only decorated part of the room. He pursed his lips and then shrugged. “Yeah, dunno why. Just haven’t decorated it yet.” He hesitated, and then said, “So, there’s a ton of rooms down here, so you can have whichever one you want. The one across the hall is kind of nice.”
“I don’t need a room, Dean,” Cas said. “I don’t sleep, remember?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, no, I get that. Just thought you might like a space of your own.” Dean nibbled a bit at a loose piece of skin on his thumb. “But, you don’t have to, if you don’t…” Dean shrugged. “It’s cool.”
Cas turned so he was facing Dean. “Dean. Are you asking me to stay?”
Dean let his hand drop into his lap and he looked up at Cas, startled. “Um. Well, you know… I thought. Just…” he stammered. He wasn’t sure what he was asking, really.
Cas smiled. “I’d like to stay.” He tilted his head. “I’ve told you before that I’d rather be here.”
Dean just nodded, not really trusting his voice with actual speech. This was turning into a moment, and he wasn’t sure that had been where he’d thought the conversation was going when he’d thought about asking Cas about which room he’d wanted. He just wanted to make sure that Cas knew he was welcome. But then he wondered if it was more than that. Because if it was just about letting his friend know that he was welcome to stay with them whenever he needed or wanted, he could just up and ask, couldn’t he? It would be fairly simple, just open his mouth and say, ‘hey Cas, please stick around, there’s a place here whenever you need it.’
But Dean seemed incapable of saying the words. He cleared his throat.
Cas must have seen these thoughts flit across Dean’s face and interpreted them accurately, because suddenly he was in Dean’s personal space, almost right up against Dean’s chest. Dean’s breathing picked up a bit, and he tried to tell himself that it was because he’d been startled by the sudden movement. Cas could move fucking fast sometimes, and Dean so often forgot that. It was so easy to forget that Cas was not human, something bigger and grander than human, really.
“Dean,” Cas murmured softly, as he cupped Dean’s face in his palm. Dean leaned into Cas’s hand, his eyes drifting closed for a moment before he opened them again. The soft touch felt so good, so right, but Dean still knew that this wasn’t right, it couldn’t be, because Cas was an angel, and Dean ruined everything that he ever loved.
“Cas,” he said in a hoarse whisper. He was warring with himself - part of him wanted to move away, but an equally strong part of him wanted to surge forward, to capture the angel’s lips with his own, but he was convinced that it wouldn’t be welcome, wouldn’t be wanted.
In the end, Cas was the one to move forward, pressing his lips to Dean’s, kissing him softly, lips moving ever so slightly. It was hardly a kiss at all, more that their lips brushed against each other’s, more a promise. Dean made a sound in the back of his throat, one that signaled surrender, and then he was pressing his mouth against Cas’s again, hungry and needy, his hand gripping Cas’s tie and using it to pull the angel closer to him.
“Cas,” Dean said again, a whisper this time, as he pulled away for a second, his eyes searching Cas’s face, searching to see if this was okay. When there was no rebuke, no movement to pull away on Cas’s part, Dean seemed to relax minutely, his body sagging against Cas’s and they were kissing again. Cas pressed forward, gently pushing Dean toward the mattress and soon they were lying together, legs tangled, chest to chest, exploring each other’s mouths, whispering small words of encouragement to each other.
They stayed like that for a long time, mapping each other, learning the feel of the other, exchanging kisses as if they were air, until Dean broke away and laughed, a dry breathy sound.
“What?” Cas asked.
“I always thought I’d be the first one to make a move,” Dean said, smiling.
“Well, you weren’t doing it, so…” Cas shrugged. He kissed Dean again, turned his attention to the curve of Dean’s jawline, finding the pulse point just beneath it. Dean tilted his head to give Cas better access and let out a small, happy rumble. It was Cas’s turn to laugh. “You’re purring.”
Dean snorted. “I am not.”
“You are,” Cas said, and he sucked a bit at Dean’s neck, eliciting the same sound again. “See?”
“Maybe I am.” Dean pulled at Cas’s hair lightly, urging the angel back up to his lips. “So will you stay?” Dean asked again.
Cas propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Dean. “Of course.” He tilted his head, and looked at the empty wall. “But I think you’ve already picked a room for me.”
Dean followed his gaze, and then looked back at Cas. “Mighty presumptuous of you, Cas.”
“You’re the one who left half the room for me, Dean.” He smiled, a fond expression on his face, one that Dean so rarely saw, but desperately wished he could see over and over again.
“Yeah.” Dean kissed Cas again. “Yeah, maybe I did.”