SPN, Sandcastles, 1/1, PG, Dean/Castiel, 774
Title: Sandcastles
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Castiel
Warning(s): None
Spoiler(s): 5.08, "Changing Channels"
Prompt(s): sycophantastic, Supernatural, Dean/Castiel (+ any), Cas doesn't quite grasp the purpose of building sand castles, but when Dean comments on the sad state of Cas' first attempt, Cas becomes determined to basically whoop Dean's ass at sand castle building
Word Count: 774
Rants: I'm "taking a break" from fandom, but I already miss my friends.
Summary: Team Free Love takes a trip to the beach and Castiel is determind to build a sandcastle.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything vaguely familiar.
Crossposted to: here @ comment_fic
”Watcha doin’, Cas?” Dean asks. It’s mostly a rhetorical question, Dean knows what it looks like Castiel is trying to do, but Dean will take any excuse to crouch down next to Castiel and breathe in his ear.
”I am building a sandcastle,” Castiel replies seriously, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Gabriel has assured me this is a tradition that must be followed.”
”I thought I explained to you while listening to Gabriel isn’t always a good idea,” Dean murmurs, brushing his lips against Castiel’s shoulder.
”Sam was in complete agreement and I do not believe Sam would lie to me,” Castiel replies. He rolls his shoulders when Dean tries to pepper kisses across them, before scowling. “This is important, Dean.”
”Well, your sandcastle sucks,” Dean says, pinching Castiel’s side sharply. “So, let’s go do something else. Something with less clothes, if you catch my drift.”
Castiel freezes under Dean, his hands stilling. “You do not like my sandcastle?” He asks, craning his neck to look at the hunter. He looks surprisingly devastated.
”Well,” Dean starts, then frowns. He sits back on his heels and rubs the back of his neck, shrugging impassively, apologetically. “It doesn’t really look like a castle, Cas.”
Castiel turns his attention back to the (attempted) sandcastle, and Dean watches his shoulders slump in defeat. “I see.”
”I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says. He leans forward to kiss the base of Castiel’s neck, before clapping his shoulders. “You can’t be perfect at everything, buddy.”
Castiel shakes Dean off once more before he crawls away from him, to the other side of the sandcastle. He’s facing Dean now, but he’s glowering. “Help me,” Castiel orders, pointing to the sandcastle between them. “Now.”
”You’re not going to say please?” Dean asks, folding his arms over his chest and frowning. “Sandcastles aren’t really my thing, Cas. I come to beaches to surf and flirt, not act like I’m two.”
Castiel’s glare darkens.
”Besides, I’m way better at this than you,” Dean says, shrugging his shoulders. “Sam and I used to have a method, a plan. Geez, we used to make sandcastles this big -” he unfolds his arms to gesture vaguely, a grin splitting across his face “ - dad would have to drag us away kicking and screaming.”
It’s not until Dean finishes that he realizes Castiel looks ready to kill him. “If you do not wish to assist me - to, as Sam says, make memories with me - than I have no desire to be around or fornicate with you anytime soon.”
”You have got to be kidding me, Cas!” Dean says, exasperated. “It’s just a sandcastle.”
”It is my sandcastle,” Castiel argues. He stops glaring at Dean in favor of returning his attention to the sandcastle between them, scooping and packing sand before patting it and forming it in a vaguely castle-like shape.
”Cas...” Dean says, letting his voice trail off. He sighs heavily, before reaching forward to help Castiel but the angel moves surprisingly quickly to smack his hand away. “What?”
”I have changed my mind,” Castiel snaps, glowering at Dean. “I no longer desire your assistance.”
”Why not?” Dean asks - and he refuses to admit that he’s pouting. “We could make an awesome sandcastle together.”
”Because you do not want to,” Castiel replies simply. He smacks at Dean when the hunter reaches forward again. “Go away.”
Dean doesn’t. He settles cross-legged in the sand to get more comfortable and watches Castiel as he works. “I’m sorry, Cas,” he says eventually. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I just... I forget that these things are new to you, sometimes.”
”I believe I asked you to leave,” Castiel murmurs, but he doesn’t sound angry. Now that he’s focusing so intently on building a sandcastle, he just sounds kind of distracted, impassive.
”You can’t get rid of me that easily, Cas,” Dean says, laughing. “You’re stuck with me until I die, whether you like it or not.” He grins when Castiel looks up at him, a shy smile on the angel’s face. “Does this mean you’ll let me help, now?”
”No,” Castiel says shortly, “but…” he smiles shyly at Dean again before ducking his head. “I would very much like if it you stayed.” His expression darkens for a minute and he adds, “but no touching.”
”No touching,” Dean agrees. He drops his palms to the sand and leans back, admiring the view of the sky meeting the ocean. It’s rare they’re ever at peace like this.
”Well...” Castiel says, his eyes roaming up and down Dean’s body slowly, hungrily. “No touching until later.”
Dean snorts. “I can live with that.”
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Castiel
Warning(s): None
Spoiler(s): 5.08, "Changing Channels"
Prompt(s): sycophantastic, Supernatural, Dean/Castiel (+ any), Cas doesn't quite grasp the purpose of building sand castles, but when Dean comments on the sad state of Cas' first attempt, Cas becomes determined to basically whoop Dean's ass at sand castle building
Word Count: 774
Rants: I'm "taking a break" from fandom, but I already miss my friends.
Summary: Team Free Love takes a trip to the beach and Castiel is determind to build a sandcastle.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything vaguely familiar.
Crossposted to: here @ comment_fic
”Watcha doin’, Cas?” Dean asks. It’s mostly a rhetorical question, Dean knows what it looks like Castiel is trying to do, but Dean will take any excuse to crouch down next to Castiel and breathe in his ear.
”I am building a sandcastle,” Castiel replies seriously, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Gabriel has assured me this is a tradition that must be followed.”
”I thought I explained to you while listening to Gabriel isn’t always a good idea,” Dean murmurs, brushing his lips against Castiel’s shoulder.
”Sam was in complete agreement and I do not believe Sam would lie to me,” Castiel replies. He rolls his shoulders when Dean tries to pepper kisses across them, before scowling. “This is important, Dean.”
”Well, your sandcastle sucks,” Dean says, pinching Castiel’s side sharply. “So, let’s go do something else. Something with less clothes, if you catch my drift.”
Castiel freezes under Dean, his hands stilling. “You do not like my sandcastle?” He asks, craning his neck to look at the hunter. He looks surprisingly devastated.
”Well,” Dean starts, then frowns. He sits back on his heels and rubs the back of his neck, shrugging impassively, apologetically. “It doesn’t really look like a castle, Cas.”
Castiel turns his attention back to the (attempted) sandcastle, and Dean watches his shoulders slump in defeat. “I see.”
”I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says. He leans forward to kiss the base of Castiel’s neck, before clapping his shoulders. “You can’t be perfect at everything, buddy.”
Castiel shakes Dean off once more before he crawls away from him, to the other side of the sandcastle. He’s facing Dean now, but he’s glowering. “Help me,” Castiel orders, pointing to the sandcastle between them. “Now.”
”You’re not going to say please?” Dean asks, folding his arms over his chest and frowning. “Sandcastles aren’t really my thing, Cas. I come to beaches to surf and flirt, not act like I’m two.”
Castiel’s glare darkens.
”Besides, I’m way better at this than you,” Dean says, shrugging his shoulders. “Sam and I used to have a method, a plan. Geez, we used to make sandcastles this big -” he unfolds his arms to gesture vaguely, a grin splitting across his face “ - dad would have to drag us away kicking and screaming.”
It’s not until Dean finishes that he realizes Castiel looks ready to kill him. “If you do not wish to assist me - to, as Sam says, make memories with me - than I have no desire to be around or fornicate with you anytime soon.”
”You have got to be kidding me, Cas!” Dean says, exasperated. “It’s just a sandcastle.”
”It is my sandcastle,” Castiel argues. He stops glaring at Dean in favor of returning his attention to the sandcastle between them, scooping and packing sand before patting it and forming it in a vaguely castle-like shape.
”Cas...” Dean says, letting his voice trail off. He sighs heavily, before reaching forward to help Castiel but the angel moves surprisingly quickly to smack his hand away. “What?”
”I have changed my mind,” Castiel snaps, glowering at Dean. “I no longer desire your assistance.”
”Why not?” Dean asks - and he refuses to admit that he’s pouting. “We could make an awesome sandcastle together.”
”Because you do not want to,” Castiel replies simply. He smacks at Dean when the hunter reaches forward again. “Go away.”
Dean doesn’t. He settles cross-legged in the sand to get more comfortable and watches Castiel as he works. “I’m sorry, Cas,” he says eventually. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I just... I forget that these things are new to you, sometimes.”
”I believe I asked you to leave,” Castiel murmurs, but he doesn’t sound angry. Now that he’s focusing so intently on building a sandcastle, he just sounds kind of distracted, impassive.
”You can’t get rid of me that easily, Cas,” Dean says, laughing. “You’re stuck with me until I die, whether you like it or not.” He grins when Castiel looks up at him, a shy smile on the angel’s face. “Does this mean you’ll let me help, now?”
”No,” Castiel says shortly, “but…” he smiles shyly at Dean again before ducking his head. “I would very much like if it you stayed.” His expression darkens for a minute and he adds, “but no touching.”
”No touching,” Dean agrees. He drops his palms to the sand and leans back, admiring the view of the sky meeting the ocean. It’s rare they’re ever at peace like this.
”Well...” Castiel says, his eyes roaming up and down Dean’s body slowly, hungrily. “No touching until later.”
Dean snorts. “I can live with that.”