Ain't it Thrillin'? [Supernatual - Dean/Castiel]
Title: Ain't it Thrillin'?
Summary: Pancakes, snow and more.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoiler Warnings: None, really.
Disclaimer: Supernatural = not mine.
Notes: Sequel to White and Drifted Snow because the people demanded it (and I'm utterly weak). Title from Winter Wonderland, natch. Just a short one because I should have been in bed, well, a long time ago.
Dean's cheeks were pink. Castiel was fascinated by this. He wondered if his own cheeks were the same and touched them with warm fingers to find out. His skin was cold and windchapped. Dean’s eyes followed his movements then flicked away when Castiel caught them.
They were sitting in a diner. After a long and protracted snowball fight with the children that had started the battle Dean had announced that he was hungry. This, in turn, had led them to the diner. It was warm and comfortable and smelled of good, hot food.
Dean had read the board outside and declared that this was where they would eat. The board had said ‘House special - blueberry pancakes’. Castiel’s vessel was familiar with pancakes and he found himself anticipating learning their taste.
“Give us lots of pancakes,” Dean had said to the woman who took their order, “and, I dunno, two chocolate milkshakes. What the hell, eh? You only live once.”
Dean had grinned up at the woman and tipped a discrete wink at Castiel. Castiel had realised that Dean was making a joke, the first time he had actually noticed such a thing, and he ducked his head and smiled.
“You’ll love pancakes, man,” Dean said as the waited for the woman, ‘waitress’ Castiel was informed, to return. “They’re almost as awesome as pie. Nothing is more awesome than pie.”
Dean’s face was solemn as he announced this statement as if it was an incontrovertible fact and Castiel found himself wanting to prove it.
“You use that word a lot,” Castiel said instead.
“Awesome?” Dean asked, Castiel nodded. Dean gave a shrug, quirking his lips for a moment. “It’s a good word.”
“If there are so many things that can be described as awesome how can you tell which are truly great?” Castiel asked.
“Never really thought about it,” Dean said with another shrug. “I just call it as I see it, you know?”
Castiel was about to say that, no, he didn’t ‘know’ but their waitress returned before he could speak. She set their plates down with a practiced ease that Castiel wished he could imitate and put the drinks down beside them. She favoured Dean and Castiel with an odd little smile and Castiel thought he wouldn’t be mistaken in thinking that Dean’s cheeks turned pinker.
“Make sure you put plenty of syrup on,” Dean said, motioning with a bottle before squeezing half of its contents over his pancakes. “Not the same without it.”
Castiel didn’t put quite as much of the syrup on his pancakes as Dean did, not sure if he would like the taste or not, and then watched Dean take his first huge mouthfuls. Castiel wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to understand just how Dean was capable of eating so much so quickly.
“Oh man,” Dean said around the mouthful of pancakes. “Man, these really are special. Dude - you’ve got to try them.”
Castiel sliced into the pancakes and inhaled the scent of them. He gathered several pieces onto his fork and raised them cautiously to his mouth. Dean made a huffing sound and reached across the table to put his hand on Castiel’s, pressing the fork up until Castiel had put the pancake in his mouth.
The flavour exploded across his tongue, sweetness in the syrup and bite from the blueberries and the lightness of the pancake itself. Castiel felt a small sound escape him and Dean grinned at him, his face lighting up.
“See,” Dean said with a nod. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Dean stopped talking after that, eating his pancakes so fast that Castiel was almost certain he was inhaling them rather than chewing them, and finished long before Castiel. Castiel intended to savour every taste-filled mouthful, wondering again at the magic of his Father’s work. He was beginning to think that Dean’s choice of word was in fact perfectly correct - he was in awe of this simple foodstuff.
Dean rubbed his stomach with contentment seeping lazily through him. He stretched back in his seat and sipped noisily from his milkshake. Castiel started a little when he felt Dean’s legs brush against his own but found himself pressing into the touch once he realised it was there.
The milkshake was interesting too, Castiel thought, the milk so thick and yet frothy and the flavour of chocolate, something Castiel had quickly realised his vessel was fond of, seemed enhanced by it. Castiel thought that the feeling settling warm and light in his chest might be contentment. He liked it.
“Huh,” Dean said as Castiel concentrated on collecting as much syrup as possible with his last piece of pancake. “It’s snowing again.”
Castiel looked up at Dean and drew a sharp breath. Dean was staring out of the window with an open expression Castiel had never seen before. His eyes were bright as he watched the snow and the smile that pulled at his lips was gentle. Castiel swallowed his final piece of pancake and turned to look out the window as well.
Snow fell thick and soft, dancing on the wind, covering the ground. Castiel felt a strange sort of peace watching it and wondered if Dean felt the same thing. The white reminded Castiel of Heaven, the soft radiance lent by the streetlights only serving to enhance the comparison.
Castiel felt Dean’s eyes focusing on him and turned to meet them, catching a brief unguarded something at the corner of Dean’s eyes. Dean’s tongue pressed against his lower lip for a moment, pushing it out slightly, and Castiel felt a small trickle of something inexplicable slide down his spine.
“You finished?” Dean asked, looking pointedly at Castiel’s plate. Castiel pulled the last of his milkshake through its straw and nodded.
Dean drew some money from his pocket and tucked it under his glass. Castiel hadn’t quite got to grips with money and was glad that Dean didn’t ask him to contribute. Dean dragged a curious silence behind him as Castiel followed him out of the diner and into the snow.
Something was hovering in the air between them and it reminded Castiel of the moment they had shared earlier in the day, before the children interrupted them. Again Castiel was sure that there was something he wanted to say to Dean but couldn’t quite place it in his mind.
Castiel could feel the snow settling in his hair, on his shoulders, and brushing past his face as it fell. They were like tiny, wet kisses where they landed on his face. Castiel blinked, uncertain of where that simile had come from, and felt his brow furrow. Dean’s mind was turning frenetically beside him, his thoughts slipping from one place to another with a dizzying frequency.
“Dean,” Castiel said at the same time as Dean stopped suddenly. One thought echoed loud enough for Castiel to hear it in its entirety. His breath stuttered.
Dean looked him in the eye for a brief moment, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, and then he was close, so close that they were touching. Castiel opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was stopped when Dean pressed his lips to Castiel’s.
The word for it was ‘surprise’ Castiel noted. That sounded right. Dean’s mouth was hot and wet on his own and the vessel responded with instinct, opening and letting Dean kiss him. That inexplicable something sparked back up Castiel’s spine and Castiel suddenly had a hand in Dean’s hair and another on his waist and Dean made a soft sound into Castiel’s mouth and Castiel was utterly lost.
‘Kiss’ was such a simple word for a such a remarkable thing. Intimate and thrilling and Castiel couldn’t understand why anyone would call this a bad thing. He felt connected to Dean, as he hadn’t since he dragged him free from Hell, and he was sure he never wanted to feel disconnected again.
“Wow,” Dean said, pulling away to breathe but setting his forehead against Castiel’s in order to keep contact. Dean’s hands flexed where they had fallen to Castiel’s waist. Castiel could only think of one word and he knew exactly what Dean would think but he didn’t care.
“Awesome, I think,” Castiel said and he muffled Dean’s laughter with his own kiss as the snow swirled down around them. Unconsciously he was protecting them from the worst of the snow with the wings no mortal could see and he didn’t mind at all.
The thought had been this: what have I got to lose?
Summary: Pancakes, snow and more.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoiler Warnings: None, really.
Disclaimer: Supernatural = not mine.
Notes: Sequel to White and Drifted Snow because the people demanded it (and I'm utterly weak). Title from Winter Wonderland, natch. Just a short one because I should have been in bed, well, a long time ago.
Dean's cheeks were pink. Castiel was fascinated by this. He wondered if his own cheeks were the same and touched them with warm fingers to find out. His skin was cold and windchapped. Dean’s eyes followed his movements then flicked away when Castiel caught them.
They were sitting in a diner. After a long and protracted snowball fight with the children that had started the battle Dean had announced that he was hungry. This, in turn, had led them to the diner. It was warm and comfortable and smelled of good, hot food.
Dean had read the board outside and declared that this was where they would eat. The board had said ‘House special - blueberry pancakes’. Castiel’s vessel was familiar with pancakes and he found himself anticipating learning their taste.
“Give us lots of pancakes,” Dean had said to the woman who took their order, “and, I dunno, two chocolate milkshakes. What the hell, eh? You only live once.”
Dean had grinned up at the woman and tipped a discrete wink at Castiel. Castiel had realised that Dean was making a joke, the first time he had actually noticed such a thing, and he ducked his head and smiled.
“You’ll love pancakes, man,” Dean said as the waited for the woman, ‘waitress’ Castiel was informed, to return. “They’re almost as awesome as pie. Nothing is more awesome than pie.”
Dean’s face was solemn as he announced this statement as if it was an incontrovertible fact and Castiel found himself wanting to prove it.
“You use that word a lot,” Castiel said instead.
“Awesome?” Dean asked, Castiel nodded. Dean gave a shrug, quirking his lips for a moment. “It’s a good word.”
“If there are so many things that can be described as awesome how can you tell which are truly great?” Castiel asked.
“Never really thought about it,” Dean said with another shrug. “I just call it as I see it, you know?”
Castiel was about to say that, no, he didn’t ‘know’ but their waitress returned before he could speak. She set their plates down with a practiced ease that Castiel wished he could imitate and put the drinks down beside them. She favoured Dean and Castiel with an odd little smile and Castiel thought he wouldn’t be mistaken in thinking that Dean’s cheeks turned pinker.
“Make sure you put plenty of syrup on,” Dean said, motioning with a bottle before squeezing half of its contents over his pancakes. “Not the same without it.”
Castiel didn’t put quite as much of the syrup on his pancakes as Dean did, not sure if he would like the taste or not, and then watched Dean take his first huge mouthfuls. Castiel wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to understand just how Dean was capable of eating so much so quickly.
“Oh man,” Dean said around the mouthful of pancakes. “Man, these really are special. Dude - you’ve got to try them.”
Castiel sliced into the pancakes and inhaled the scent of them. He gathered several pieces onto his fork and raised them cautiously to his mouth. Dean made a huffing sound and reached across the table to put his hand on Castiel’s, pressing the fork up until Castiel had put the pancake in his mouth.
The flavour exploded across his tongue, sweetness in the syrup and bite from the blueberries and the lightness of the pancake itself. Castiel felt a small sound escape him and Dean grinned at him, his face lighting up.
“See,” Dean said with a nod. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Dean stopped talking after that, eating his pancakes so fast that Castiel was almost certain he was inhaling them rather than chewing them, and finished long before Castiel. Castiel intended to savour every taste-filled mouthful, wondering again at the magic of his Father’s work. He was beginning to think that Dean’s choice of word was in fact perfectly correct - he was in awe of this simple foodstuff.
Dean rubbed his stomach with contentment seeping lazily through him. He stretched back in his seat and sipped noisily from his milkshake. Castiel started a little when he felt Dean’s legs brush against his own but found himself pressing into the touch once he realised it was there.
The milkshake was interesting too, Castiel thought, the milk so thick and yet frothy and the flavour of chocolate, something Castiel had quickly realised his vessel was fond of, seemed enhanced by it. Castiel thought that the feeling settling warm and light in his chest might be contentment. He liked it.
“Huh,” Dean said as Castiel concentrated on collecting as much syrup as possible with his last piece of pancake. “It’s snowing again.”
Castiel looked up at Dean and drew a sharp breath. Dean was staring out of the window with an open expression Castiel had never seen before. His eyes were bright as he watched the snow and the smile that pulled at his lips was gentle. Castiel swallowed his final piece of pancake and turned to look out the window as well.
Snow fell thick and soft, dancing on the wind, covering the ground. Castiel felt a strange sort of peace watching it and wondered if Dean felt the same thing. The white reminded Castiel of Heaven, the soft radiance lent by the streetlights only serving to enhance the comparison.
Castiel felt Dean’s eyes focusing on him and turned to meet them, catching a brief unguarded something at the corner of Dean’s eyes. Dean’s tongue pressed against his lower lip for a moment, pushing it out slightly, and Castiel felt a small trickle of something inexplicable slide down his spine.
“You finished?” Dean asked, looking pointedly at Castiel’s plate. Castiel pulled the last of his milkshake through its straw and nodded.
Dean drew some money from his pocket and tucked it under his glass. Castiel hadn’t quite got to grips with money and was glad that Dean didn’t ask him to contribute. Dean dragged a curious silence behind him as Castiel followed him out of the diner and into the snow.
Something was hovering in the air between them and it reminded Castiel of the moment they had shared earlier in the day, before the children interrupted them. Again Castiel was sure that there was something he wanted to say to Dean but couldn’t quite place it in his mind.
Castiel could feel the snow settling in his hair, on his shoulders, and brushing past his face as it fell. They were like tiny, wet kisses where they landed on his face. Castiel blinked, uncertain of where that simile had come from, and felt his brow furrow. Dean’s mind was turning frenetically beside him, his thoughts slipping from one place to another with a dizzying frequency.
“Dean,” Castiel said at the same time as Dean stopped suddenly. One thought echoed loud enough for Castiel to hear it in its entirety. His breath stuttered.
Dean looked him in the eye for a brief moment, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, and then he was close, so close that they were touching. Castiel opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was stopped when Dean pressed his lips to Castiel’s.
The word for it was ‘surprise’ Castiel noted. That sounded right. Dean’s mouth was hot and wet on his own and the vessel responded with instinct, opening and letting Dean kiss him. That inexplicable something sparked back up Castiel’s spine and Castiel suddenly had a hand in Dean’s hair and another on his waist and Dean made a soft sound into Castiel’s mouth and Castiel was utterly lost.
‘Kiss’ was such a simple word for a such a remarkable thing. Intimate and thrilling and Castiel couldn’t understand why anyone would call this a bad thing. He felt connected to Dean, as he hadn’t since he dragged him free from Hell, and he was sure he never wanted to feel disconnected again.
“Wow,” Dean said, pulling away to breathe but setting his forehead against Castiel’s in order to keep contact. Dean’s hands flexed where they had fallen to Castiel’s waist. Castiel could only think of one word and he knew exactly what Dean would think but he didn’t care.
“Awesome, I think,” Castiel said and he muffled Dean’s laughter with his own kiss as the snow swirled down around them. Unconsciously he was protecting them from the worst of the snow with the wings no mortal could see and he didn’t mind at all.
The thought had been this: what have I got to lose?