fic: puppy love
Title: puppy love
Author: Puchuupoet
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Word Count: 2260
Rating: pg-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Notes: Unbeta'd, and I'll probably be revising/playing with it some more later. Friends only for the time being. Based on the following prompts (paraphrased): puppy!Sam (probing_grays), tampons (stickingplaster), Dean and Sam find a lore book on angels that has some interesting info on Castiel (rathanylakan), Cas being a responsible dog owner (playthefool)
This is the puppy I was picturing for Sam
"Dammit Cas, come on!" Dean's already out of breath, trying to make his way through the throng crowding the sidewalk. He doesn't look behind, just hopes that Cas is smart enough to still be following him.
He can barely make out the top of the brunette's head; she's tiny and weaving in and out around people like a pro. When she disappears behind a couple Dean picks up speed, glancing around until he sees that she's ducked into a coffee shop.
Dean's shoulders slump down as he pauses outside the doorway. It's practically empty inside the shop, giving him no cover to sneak in close and pick her pocket. He leans against one of the front windows, trying to figure out what to do next. Castiel still hasn't shown up, and Dean doesn't know if he's flickered off into nothing or is just distracted several stores back.
Another glance inside shows that she's sitting down, her large purse at her feet. Dean can see it moving, shifting about but she doesn't seem to notice. His ears perk up when he sees the bag start to rock back and forth, a determined movement that eventually has it tipping over onto the floor.
Dean doesn't waste any time, shrugging out of his jacket and slipping inside. He pretends to look around at the overpriced mugs and bags of coffee, slowly making his way over towards the woman's table.
She's twisted around so that she's facing the guy next to her, leaning so that her best assets are on display. Dean doesn't blame the guy for the slack-jawed look on his face; just hopes the dude can hold a conversation long enough for Dean to get in and get out.
He's about to make his move, shifting his weight and he starts to step forward. His foot bumps into something though and when Dean looks down he finds himself staring at the woman's purse. The bag runs into him, and without thinking Dean drops to one knee, tossing his jacket over the bag.
He fiddles with his shoelace for a moment, waiting to see if anyone says anything. When the shop stays at a low oblivious murmur, he bundles it all up in his arms and stands, heading for the door.
Dean lets himself get pushed along with the crowd, waiting until there's an alley he can duck into. The car's several blocks away and Dean starts backtracking towards it, needing to put as much space between himself and shop as possible.
When Dean gets into the Impala, he peeks under the jacket. The moment he lifts it up a damp nose pushes up against his hand, and Dean finally allows himself to start to relax.
"You doing okay?" The nose butts at his hand again, harder this time and Dean smiles despite the situation. "Okay, but stay where you are. Need to get you to Bobby's as soon as I can." He doesn't know if the puppy can understand him, but talking out loud makes his breath slow back down.
Dean moves the bundle of purse and jacket over to the side, making sure there's a tunnel through the fabric for the puppy to get fresh air. "Hold tight dude, I'll try and make this quick."
Castiel's standing next to Bobby when Dean pulls up to the house, both of them watching the Impala. Dean just glares at them as he walks around to open up the passenger door. He leaves his jacket in the car, instead supporting the purse with one arm as he slams the door shut with the other.
"Never pegged you for purses. More of a clutch man, really."
Dean ignores Bobby, instead heads towards Cas, and he can see the way Castiel shifts from one foot to the other that he knows something's up.
"Thought you had my back back there?"
"You seemed to have everything under control. Besides, I had to get things ready here for Sam." Castiel's gaze drops to the purse in Dean's arms.
"You know, none of you have actually told me what's going on here." Bobby crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Dean and Castiel. "What's in the bag, Dean?"
"Sam?" Dean reaches into the purse, pulling out a puppy. It blinks sleepily at everyone, the sunlight a shock to its eyes.
"Yer going by its hair, right?"
The puppy growls at Bobby, and Dean chuckles as he cuddles it close to his chest. "I have no idea what he was dealing with, so I'm not sure how long this'll last. It's why we came here."
Bobby nods. "I have a couple of books off the top of my head, but I'll need your help going through it all. Or Cas, if he's sticking around?" Bobby looks over to the angel, but Dean cuts in.
"I got that Bobby. Cas can do something for me. You see, Sammy and me, we've just driven a long ways, and I'm pretty sure Sam here could do with a bathroom break. You still have Rumsfeld's old leash?"
"Yeah, in the hallway closet. Should be on the door still. Gimmie a sec." Bobby turns to duck inside, and Dean faces Castiel.
"Here." Dean holds Sam out, gently pressing him against Castiel's chest until Cas' arms move to support the puppy.
"I'm walking Sam?"
"Until he takes a dump, yeah. Think of it as meditation. You know, one of those Zen mazes people stick in their gardens." Dean gestures towards the cars clogging up Bobby's property. "Have at it."
Bobby reappears with the leash, leaning over to loop it around Sam's neck and snap the clasp around the leash. He tucks the other end of the leash into Castiel's arm, making sure none of it's dragging on the ground.
"This is what you get for not just zapping him out of her arms in the first place," Dean calls out as Cas makes his way down the stairs. He watches as Cas sets Sam down at the bottom of the stairs, hand pausing to ruffle at his ears.
"You gonna tell me what's going on?"
Dean turns around to face Bobby, the purse suddenly awkward in his arms, now that Sam's not in it. "Gonna need a beer first."
Three beers later and things aren't making sense. Dean blames it on the witch or whatever the fuck it was Sam was failing to deal with on his own, rather than the alcohol. The text he's been attempting to focus is blurring together, and he leans back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes.
"Here, try this one." Bobby hands him a new book, thicker than the one sitting in front of him. Dean raises an eyebrow at him. "It's in a more recent dialect, should be easier than what you've been staring at. I'm headed out now, but call if you find anything you think'll work."
Dean raises his bottle in acknowledgement, taking the book from Bobby. Flipping through the pages, the book looks like a general overview of mythological creatures, something Dean's not interested in wasting his time on. He pauses for a moment though, his eye catching on a phrase, and turns back to the page.
Castiel - My cover is God
Dean stares dumbly at the page, trying to make sense of it. The book keeps going, talking about angelic powers and holy abilities, nothing Cas hasn't told them about, but Dean's eyes keep flickering back to the beginning.
My cover is God
Dean grabs his beer as he pushes the chair back, the feet scritching along the hardwood. He makes his way over to the window, looking out over the junkyard. He doesn't have to wait long, Castiel and Sam emerging moments later. Even with the distance, Dean can see Cas' lips moving and Dean wonders what he's telling Sam.
Castiel's mouth stops suddenly, eyes opening wide, and Dean's gaze travels down just in time to see Sam start to squat. He stifles his laugh as best he can, finishing off his beer before heading to the kitchen. He drops the empty bottle in the bucket by the door, grabbing another on his way back to the study.
He hears Sam bark from the yard, a high pitched puppy yip that draws Dean back to the window. He gets there in time to see Cas look around before reaching down to pick up a leafy branch. Dean's dumbfounded until Castiel cautiously drops it on top of the pile. He uses his shoe to kick leaves over the edges, careful to stop his foot in time.
Sam's alternating between growling and barking, tugging on Castiel's pants leg, and Dean can only imagine the ecological rant he's going on about picking up after your pets.
Dean meets them on the porch, setting his beer down long enough to scoop Sam up in his arms, mainly because he can. Sam is big, even as a pup, and Dean wonders how that woman ever managed to snatch him up and fit him in her purse.
Sam hefts himself up over Dean's shoulder, his paws resting against his shoulder blade. He noses at Dean's neck, swiping his tongue behind his ear and Dean ducks his head away.
"You know, God sees all. Even hidden piles of dog crap." Dean tells Cas, turning to go inside. By the sound of Sam's huff, Dean's sure of the bitchface Cas is giving him as they walk inside.
Dean sets Sam down on the floor, ruffling his ears. "Entertain yourself, but don't eat anything important." Sam stares at him for a moment before shaking his head and running off, skidding on the smooth floor.
When Dean turns around, Castiel is standing in the doorway, frowning at him. "What's up?" Dean asks, brushing past Castiel to close the door behind him.
"You shouldn't make light of Him."
"Well, what should I make of this?" Dean heads back towards the table to point at the page. "What does this even mean? That there really is no God? Or are you He and there's some overlap there that no one's told me about."
"There is God." Castiel doesn't move from his location by the door, and the lack of reaction pisses Dean off.
"Then what? God's the giant floating head distracting everyone while you're behind the fucking curtain, pulling the levers and switches and controlling everything yourself?" Dean stops himself, slowly turning around to face Castiel. "Wait. Have you been lying this whole time? With the amulet and hope and searching for Him?"
"No!"
"Why do I feel like you've just been screwing with me this whole time?" Dean walks forward until he's inches from Castiel. This close he can see the slight tremble in Castiel's stance and it's vaguely reassuring.
"Dean, I wouldn't." There's an earnestness there, a veiled desperation that Dean's not sure he's supposed to see. Castiel stays silent for a moment before raising his gaze to meet Dean's. "We've been through a lot together. My faith has been tested, and those that misled... they were taken care of. I was once a pawn, doing what I thought was righteous because of where those orders supposedly came from. I can't excuse that behavior, but I've changed."
Dean takes a step back from the sudden intensity, noticing how Castiel's hands are clenched into fists by his side.
"Hey, come on." Dean reaches out to brush his fingers against Castiel's knuckles. "We all make mistakes. I mean, look at me and Sam. Besides, the definition's sort of vague anyways."
"The title is antiquated, as old as I am. It needs updating, but," and Castiel allows himself a smile, "there are greater things at hand to focus on."
Dean can feel Castiel's grip start to relax, and he pulls his hand back. "Anything you have in mind?"
Castiel just tilts his chin towards the far end of the room, his grin growing larger.
Dean hears the soft patter as he turns around, and he reminds himself that worst case scenario, it could just take longer than normal to wear off. His face drops when Sam bounds into view, mouth full of socks. He kneels down, gesturing for the pup to come closer.
"Seriously Sammy, what the hell? And how'd you even get into Bobby's dresser..." Dean trails off when Sam tries to clamber up his legs, dropping his trophies on Dean's lap. He picks up a handful, cautiously separating them.
"What did he bring you?" Castiel moves behind Dean, one knee gently bumping against Dean's back.
"I dunno, they smell like too much perfume. Wait, what?" Dean drops everything on the floor and stands, dumping Sam off his lap. "Dammit Sam, why the fuck did you get tampons on me?"
Sam just stares up at him before flopping on his back, rolling in the cottony mess.
"You asshole." Dean tells him before realizing that he's backed up against Castiel in his attempt to get away from the feminine products.
"What'd he bring you?" Castiel's breath is warm against Dean's neck, and Dean shudders at both the sensation and the question.
"Come on," he murmurs. "Not drunk enough for that conversation yet." He reaches behind to grasp for Castiel's hand, and smiles when fingers tighten around his in response.
"Where are we going?"
"Gonna stick him in the bathroom, and then we can figure things out." The grip on Dean's hand tightens in response, and Dean allows himself a quick squeeze back before letting go and focusing on Sam. "C'mere jerk."
Author: Puchuupoet
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Word Count: 2260
Rating: pg-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Notes: Unbeta'd, and I'll probably be revising/playing with it some more later. Friends only for the time being. Based on the following prompts (paraphrased): puppy!Sam (probing_grays), tampons (stickingplaster), Dean and Sam find a lore book on angels that has some interesting info on Castiel (rathanylakan), Cas being a responsible dog owner (playthefool)
This is the puppy I was picturing for Sam
"Dammit Cas, come on!" Dean's already out of breath, trying to make his way through the throng crowding the sidewalk. He doesn't look behind, just hopes that Cas is smart enough to still be following him.
He can barely make out the top of the brunette's head; she's tiny and weaving in and out around people like a pro. When she disappears behind a couple Dean picks up speed, glancing around until he sees that she's ducked into a coffee shop.
Dean's shoulders slump down as he pauses outside the doorway. It's practically empty inside the shop, giving him no cover to sneak in close and pick her pocket. He leans against one of the front windows, trying to figure out what to do next. Castiel still hasn't shown up, and Dean doesn't know if he's flickered off into nothing or is just distracted several stores back.
Another glance inside shows that she's sitting down, her large purse at her feet. Dean can see it moving, shifting about but she doesn't seem to notice. His ears perk up when he sees the bag start to rock back and forth, a determined movement that eventually has it tipping over onto the floor.
Dean doesn't waste any time, shrugging out of his jacket and slipping inside. He pretends to look around at the overpriced mugs and bags of coffee, slowly making his way over towards the woman's table.
She's twisted around so that she's facing the guy next to her, leaning so that her best assets are on display. Dean doesn't blame the guy for the slack-jawed look on his face; just hopes the dude can hold a conversation long enough for Dean to get in and get out.
He's about to make his move, shifting his weight and he starts to step forward. His foot bumps into something though and when Dean looks down he finds himself staring at the woman's purse. The bag runs into him, and without thinking Dean drops to one knee, tossing his jacket over the bag.
He fiddles with his shoelace for a moment, waiting to see if anyone says anything. When the shop stays at a low oblivious murmur, he bundles it all up in his arms and stands, heading for the door.
Dean lets himself get pushed along with the crowd, waiting until there's an alley he can duck into. The car's several blocks away and Dean starts backtracking towards it, needing to put as much space between himself and shop as possible.
When Dean gets into the Impala, he peeks under the jacket. The moment he lifts it up a damp nose pushes up against his hand, and Dean finally allows himself to start to relax.
"You doing okay?" The nose butts at his hand again, harder this time and Dean smiles despite the situation. "Okay, but stay where you are. Need to get you to Bobby's as soon as I can." He doesn't know if the puppy can understand him, but talking out loud makes his breath slow back down.
Dean moves the bundle of purse and jacket over to the side, making sure there's a tunnel through the fabric for the puppy to get fresh air. "Hold tight dude, I'll try and make this quick."
Castiel's standing next to Bobby when Dean pulls up to the house, both of them watching the Impala. Dean just glares at them as he walks around to open up the passenger door. He leaves his jacket in the car, instead supporting the purse with one arm as he slams the door shut with the other.
"Never pegged you for purses. More of a clutch man, really."
Dean ignores Bobby, instead heads towards Cas, and he can see the way Castiel shifts from one foot to the other that he knows something's up.
"Thought you had my back back there?"
"You seemed to have everything under control. Besides, I had to get things ready here for Sam." Castiel's gaze drops to the purse in Dean's arms.
"You know, none of you have actually told me what's going on here." Bobby crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Dean and Castiel. "What's in the bag, Dean?"
"Sam?" Dean reaches into the purse, pulling out a puppy. It blinks sleepily at everyone, the sunlight a shock to its eyes.
"Yer going by its hair, right?"
The puppy growls at Bobby, and Dean chuckles as he cuddles it close to his chest. "I have no idea what he was dealing with, so I'm not sure how long this'll last. It's why we came here."
Bobby nods. "I have a couple of books off the top of my head, but I'll need your help going through it all. Or Cas, if he's sticking around?" Bobby looks over to the angel, but Dean cuts in.
"I got that Bobby. Cas can do something for me. You see, Sammy and me, we've just driven a long ways, and I'm pretty sure Sam here could do with a bathroom break. You still have Rumsfeld's old leash?"
"Yeah, in the hallway closet. Should be on the door still. Gimmie a sec." Bobby turns to duck inside, and Dean faces Castiel.
"Here." Dean holds Sam out, gently pressing him against Castiel's chest until Cas' arms move to support the puppy.
"I'm walking Sam?"
"Until he takes a dump, yeah. Think of it as meditation. You know, one of those Zen mazes people stick in their gardens." Dean gestures towards the cars clogging up Bobby's property. "Have at it."
Bobby reappears with the leash, leaning over to loop it around Sam's neck and snap the clasp around the leash. He tucks the other end of the leash into Castiel's arm, making sure none of it's dragging on the ground.
"This is what you get for not just zapping him out of her arms in the first place," Dean calls out as Cas makes his way down the stairs. He watches as Cas sets Sam down at the bottom of the stairs, hand pausing to ruffle at his ears.
"You gonna tell me what's going on?"
Dean turns around to face Bobby, the purse suddenly awkward in his arms, now that Sam's not in it. "Gonna need a beer first."
Three beers later and things aren't making sense. Dean blames it on the witch or whatever the fuck it was Sam was failing to deal with on his own, rather than the alcohol. The text he's been attempting to focus is blurring together, and he leans back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes.
"Here, try this one." Bobby hands him a new book, thicker than the one sitting in front of him. Dean raises an eyebrow at him. "It's in a more recent dialect, should be easier than what you've been staring at. I'm headed out now, but call if you find anything you think'll work."
Dean raises his bottle in acknowledgement, taking the book from Bobby. Flipping through the pages, the book looks like a general overview of mythological creatures, something Dean's not interested in wasting his time on. He pauses for a moment though, his eye catching on a phrase, and turns back to the page.
Castiel - My cover is God
Dean stares dumbly at the page, trying to make sense of it. The book keeps going, talking about angelic powers and holy abilities, nothing Cas hasn't told them about, but Dean's eyes keep flickering back to the beginning.
My cover is God
Dean grabs his beer as he pushes the chair back, the feet scritching along the hardwood. He makes his way over to the window, looking out over the junkyard. He doesn't have to wait long, Castiel and Sam emerging moments later. Even with the distance, Dean can see Cas' lips moving and Dean wonders what he's telling Sam.
Castiel's mouth stops suddenly, eyes opening wide, and Dean's gaze travels down just in time to see Sam start to squat. He stifles his laugh as best he can, finishing off his beer before heading to the kitchen. He drops the empty bottle in the bucket by the door, grabbing another on his way back to the study.
He hears Sam bark from the yard, a high pitched puppy yip that draws Dean back to the window. He gets there in time to see Cas look around before reaching down to pick up a leafy branch. Dean's dumbfounded until Castiel cautiously drops it on top of the pile. He uses his shoe to kick leaves over the edges, careful to stop his foot in time.
Sam's alternating between growling and barking, tugging on Castiel's pants leg, and Dean can only imagine the ecological rant he's going on about picking up after your pets.
Dean meets them on the porch, setting his beer down long enough to scoop Sam up in his arms, mainly because he can. Sam is big, even as a pup, and Dean wonders how that woman ever managed to snatch him up and fit him in her purse.
Sam hefts himself up over Dean's shoulder, his paws resting against his shoulder blade. He noses at Dean's neck, swiping his tongue behind his ear and Dean ducks his head away.
"You know, God sees all. Even hidden piles of dog crap." Dean tells Cas, turning to go inside. By the sound of Sam's huff, Dean's sure of the bitchface Cas is giving him as they walk inside.
Dean sets Sam down on the floor, ruffling his ears. "Entertain yourself, but don't eat anything important." Sam stares at him for a moment before shaking his head and running off, skidding on the smooth floor.
When Dean turns around, Castiel is standing in the doorway, frowning at him. "What's up?" Dean asks, brushing past Castiel to close the door behind him.
"You shouldn't make light of Him."
"Well, what should I make of this?" Dean heads back towards the table to point at the page. "What does this even mean? That there really is no God? Or are you He and there's some overlap there that no one's told me about."
"There is God." Castiel doesn't move from his location by the door, and the lack of reaction pisses Dean off.
"Then what? God's the giant floating head distracting everyone while you're behind the fucking curtain, pulling the levers and switches and controlling everything yourself?" Dean stops himself, slowly turning around to face Castiel. "Wait. Have you been lying this whole time? With the amulet and hope and searching for Him?"
"No!"
"Why do I feel like you've just been screwing with me this whole time?" Dean walks forward until he's inches from Castiel. This close he can see the slight tremble in Castiel's stance and it's vaguely reassuring.
"Dean, I wouldn't." There's an earnestness there, a veiled desperation that Dean's not sure he's supposed to see. Castiel stays silent for a moment before raising his gaze to meet Dean's. "We've been through a lot together. My faith has been tested, and those that misled... they were taken care of. I was once a pawn, doing what I thought was righteous because of where those orders supposedly came from. I can't excuse that behavior, but I've changed."
Dean takes a step back from the sudden intensity, noticing how Castiel's hands are clenched into fists by his side.
"Hey, come on." Dean reaches out to brush his fingers against Castiel's knuckles. "We all make mistakes. I mean, look at me and Sam. Besides, the definition's sort of vague anyways."
"The title is antiquated, as old as I am. It needs updating, but," and Castiel allows himself a smile, "there are greater things at hand to focus on."
Dean can feel Castiel's grip start to relax, and he pulls his hand back. "Anything you have in mind?"
Castiel just tilts his chin towards the far end of the room, his grin growing larger.
Dean hears the soft patter as he turns around, and he reminds himself that worst case scenario, it could just take longer than normal to wear off. His face drops when Sam bounds into view, mouth full of socks. He kneels down, gesturing for the pup to come closer.
"Seriously Sammy, what the hell? And how'd you even get into Bobby's dresser..." Dean trails off when Sam tries to clamber up his legs, dropping his trophies on Dean's lap. He picks up a handful, cautiously separating them.
"What did he bring you?" Castiel moves behind Dean, one knee gently bumping against Dean's back.
"I dunno, they smell like too much perfume. Wait, what?" Dean drops everything on the floor and stands, dumping Sam off his lap. "Dammit Sam, why the fuck did you get tampons on me?"
Sam just stares up at him before flopping on his back, rolling in the cottony mess.
"You asshole." Dean tells him before realizing that he's backed up against Castiel in his attempt to get away from the feminine products.
"What'd he bring you?" Castiel's breath is warm against Dean's neck, and Dean shudders at both the sensation and the question.
"Come on," he murmurs. "Not drunk enough for that conversation yet." He reaches behind to grasp for Castiel's hand, and smiles when fingers tighten around his in response.
"Where are we going?"
"Gonna stick him in the bathroom, and then we can figure things out." The grip on Dean's hand tightens in response, and Dean allows himself a quick squeeze back before letting go and focusing on Sam. "C'mere jerk."