[ficlet] Untitled (Supernatural; Destiel)
"Untitled"
by exorcistor
Fandom: Supernatural
People/pairings: Destiel
Rating: mature
Prompt: Destiel, balcony
---
He’d gone out here for some privacy, no really, he had intended for this moment to be private, to get away from Sam’s constantly questioning eyes (“Is there anything you wanna tell me, Dean?”), to try and figure this shit out, try and figure out where the fuck this was going, if it was going anywhere.
But then, Cas had never had much to spare for human customs such as privacy.
“Hello, Dean.”
This time, he turned up right behind Dean, close enough that the warmth from his body were seeping into Dean’s clothes where he stood, leaning on the railing to the balcony of their room on the third floor of yet another nameless motel.
Dean flinched and changed his grip on the reeling, but other than that, he did nothing to acknowledge the abrupt arrival of another person in his personal space.
“Hey Cas,” he managed, and it sounded strained even to his own ears, so he couldn’t even hope that the angel, ever observant, wouldn’t pick up on it.
A hand sneaked up to rest at Dean’s hip. Dean had to bite his lip and focus hard on the outline of the next building over in order to not lean into Castiel’s touch. Distraction was the last thing he needed right now, and yet he craved it like it was necessary for his survival. Or at least his sanity.
“You are thinking very hard,” Cas commented, hand still caressing Dean’s hip through his clothes like it was no big deal, like it was nothing, like it belonged there. And maybe it did, maybe Cas had some kind of right to claim him, by now, because he sure as hell felt like he claimed Cas enough times already, calling him “his angel” one too many times, making Sam wonder and look at him under raised eyebrows.
“What are we to one another, Cas?” Dean managed to grind out, voice hardly more than a breath, but he knew the angel could hear him anyway.
“Whatever you want us to be, Dean,” Cas answered, murmured, close enough that Dean could feel his breath on his neck. He sighed, didn’t turn around, squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of Cas’ hand reaching over to cover his own, as the angel stepped closer, shaping his body after Dean’s; a barrier against the cold of the night.
“I haven’t got a fucking clue what to call this,” Dean admitted. “And Sam’s itching to ask me ‘bout it, that’s obvious. I have no idea what to say to him if he does.”
“Why don’t you tell him to, ah, ‘mind his own damn business’?” Castiel suggested, tone uncharacteristically playful. That alone was enough to make Dean turn around and look at his whatever they were, finally. Castiel’s face was as stoic as ever, but his eyes glimmered with something - mischievousness, and before Dean had had any time to catch up, there was a mouth on his, a tongue pressing in between his lips, strong hands guiding him back around to face the night, Castiel, dropping to his knees between him and the balcony’s reeling…
And, ok, maybe it was stupid to obsess over what to classify them as, because who gave shit, anyway, beside Dean’s stupid overgrown little brother, and yeah Sam could definitely mind his own damn business, for all Dean cared about what he thought about Dean fucking around with an angel of the lord.
by exorcistor
Fandom: Supernatural
People/pairings: Destiel
Rating: mature
Prompt: Destiel, balcony
---
He’d gone out here for some privacy, no really, he had intended for this moment to be private, to get away from Sam’s constantly questioning eyes (“Is there anything you wanna tell me, Dean?”), to try and figure this shit out, try and figure out where the fuck this was going, if it was going anywhere.
But then, Cas had never had much to spare for human customs such as privacy.
“Hello, Dean.”
This time, he turned up right behind Dean, close enough that the warmth from his body were seeping into Dean’s clothes where he stood, leaning on the railing to the balcony of their room on the third floor of yet another nameless motel.
Dean flinched and changed his grip on the reeling, but other than that, he did nothing to acknowledge the abrupt arrival of another person in his personal space.
“Hey Cas,” he managed, and it sounded strained even to his own ears, so he couldn’t even hope that the angel, ever observant, wouldn’t pick up on it.
A hand sneaked up to rest at Dean’s hip. Dean had to bite his lip and focus hard on the outline of the next building over in order to not lean into Castiel’s touch. Distraction was the last thing he needed right now, and yet he craved it like it was necessary for his survival. Or at least his sanity.
“You are thinking very hard,” Cas commented, hand still caressing Dean’s hip through his clothes like it was no big deal, like it was nothing, like it belonged there. And maybe it did, maybe Cas had some kind of right to claim him, by now, because he sure as hell felt like he claimed Cas enough times already, calling him “his angel” one too many times, making Sam wonder and look at him under raised eyebrows.
“What are we to one another, Cas?” Dean managed to grind out, voice hardly more than a breath, but he knew the angel could hear him anyway.
“Whatever you want us to be, Dean,” Cas answered, murmured, close enough that Dean could feel his breath on his neck. He sighed, didn’t turn around, squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of Cas’ hand reaching over to cover his own, as the angel stepped closer, shaping his body after Dean’s; a barrier against the cold of the night.
“I haven’t got a fucking clue what to call this,” Dean admitted. “And Sam’s itching to ask me ‘bout it, that’s obvious. I have no idea what to say to him if he does.”
“Why don’t you tell him to, ah, ‘mind his own damn business’?” Castiel suggested, tone uncharacteristically playful. That alone was enough to make Dean turn around and look at his whatever they were, finally. Castiel’s face was as stoic as ever, but his eyes glimmered with something - mischievousness, and before Dean had had any time to catch up, there was a mouth on his, a tongue pressing in between his lips, strong hands guiding him back around to face the night, Castiel, dropping to his knees between him and the balcony’s reeling…
And, ok, maybe it was stupid to obsess over what to classify them as, because who gave shit, anyway, beside Dean’s stupid overgrown little brother, and yeah Sam could definitely mind his own damn business, for all Dean cared about what he thought about Dean fucking around with an angel of the lord.