Destiel Ficlet #7
This is unbearably fluffy so bear with me
~
Castiel tossed and turned what seemed like most of the night, attempting to find a position that his human body would be comfortable in, to no avail. Lying on his back made his legs ache for some reason, but lying on either side meant he had no idea what to do with his arms. Did you put the arm under the pillow? Behind your body? In front of you, but wrapped around your waist? No matter what he did, he couldn’t get comfortable.
After barely twenty minutes of this, Dean finally spoke up, gruff voice hoarse after a long day of yelling while hunting, and then drinking away the muscles aches.
“Cas,” Dean snaps, and the former angel instantly stills.
“…Yes Dean?”
“…Stop. Moving.”
“I can’t sleep…”
“You’ve only been trying for twenty minutes, just…hold still, or I’ll make you.” Dean grumps, clearly irritated at having to tell a grown man how to behave.
“…Okay Dean,” Castiel says quietly.
Cas is still for five minutes, before he starts shifting again. Dean groans and reaches across the double bed they’re in, grabbing his bunk-mate and hauling him close, strong arms wrapping around the leaner frame of the other man. Castiel instantly stills as Dean whispers against his ear,
“Hold still, go to sleep, or I’m going to knock you out, so help me God.”
Castiel swallows thickly, the sudden proximity of Dean’s body making this a thousand times more difficult.
Now his entire body was thrumming with nervous energy, itching all over and tingling, like he was a live wire and Dean was just feeding him more and more juice every place they touched.
Castiel focuses on his breathing, remembering his first panic attack when he became human, and how Sam had helped him through it with deep breathing and meditation exercises.
Breathe in…Breathe out…Breathe in…Breathe out…
It was working a little bit, but with each breath in, Castiel on seemed to notice how Dean’s hand felt, solid and warm, pressed against his chest. With each breath out, the arm around his waist shifted just slightly, sending worn cotton fabric slipping over his sensitive skin.
Castiel flushes when he realizes that his body was reacting much the same way as it had when he’d been watching that TV show about the pizza man and his friend, the baby sitter.
This wasn’t good…Dean hadn’t liked him getting a ‘boner’ then…he most certainly wouldn’t like it now. The hunter was already upset about having to share the double with Castiel, after Sam had refused to share the bed, claiming the extra long twin across the room for himself.
“Bite me, Dean, I haven’t slept on a bed where my feet didn’t hang off the end in years!”
Dean had conceded the point begrudgingly, pointing to one side of the bed and growling “Mine”, and Cas, before pointing to the other and narrowing his eyes even more, “Yours.”
As Castiel realized that Dean had broken his own rule about ‘sides of the bed’, he began to relax into the hold around his waist. His body slowly grew heavier, and he found himself pushing back into the embrace, scooting back further into the warmth Dean’s body provided, the cool autumn night leaving everyone just slightly chilly in boxers shorts, t-shirts, and thin hotel blankets tossed on top. The arm around his waist tightens and there’s a surprised grunt from behind him, forcing Castiel to stop his minute adjustments of his body.
“Cas?” Dean queries, voice even deeper than before. Castiel flushes slightly, the warmth pooling even hotter in his low belly.
“Yes Dean?” He croaks, as quietly as possible.
“…You need to stop that,” Dean rasps, his lips brushing over the back of Castiel’s neck, sending tiny thrills up the smaller man’s spine, making the hair all over his body stand on end.
Castiel shifts back once again, feeling something hard press against his ass. He licks his lips and turns his head, looking back at Dean in the dark.
“…Or what?” He asks, dead pan so effective Dean’s eyes flare wide in the dim light, staring at the man his angel had become, curious and learning every day, expanding horizons left and right, changing and becoming even more than he’d ever been.
Dean swallows hard and slides his hand down the angel’s chest, across flat planes of stomach that quiver under his fingertips, stopping at the edge of Castiel’s boxers.
“Or I’ll make you…,” Dean counters, shifting his hips to press himself against Castiel’s ass.
The man whimpers, actually whimpers, and Dean’s body responds without his permission, hips jerking forward at the sound, a low growl slipping through his lips.
“Dean….,” Cas whispers as he tries to turn around, only to be caught by the hunter’s arms.
“No,” Dean hisses, and leans in to press their foreheads together, breathing harder as his hand slides lower, cupping the former angel over his boxers, making Castiel’s breath hitch in his throat.
“It’s okay Cas….I’ll help you sleep…,” Dean whispers, and leans in to swallow the man’s reply, silencing him with a long over due kiss.
~
BONUS
~
Across the room, Sam stares at the wall, wide eyed, his back to his brother and their friend, a pillow (or two) wrapped around his head, arms holding it in place, while a mantra races through his mind.
“Remember the ear plugs Sam, he said…Don’t worry Dean, I got them, I said….”