Work Text:
It never occurred to me that I would ever be a domestic person. I tried to once, with Lisa. Considering how quick shit hit the fan, I quickly took it out of my cards for good. But here I was, playing scrabble with an angel. An angel that had become my lover in the past week, who was wearing my sweatpants and shirt, looking disheveled as all get out but also looking hot as hell. An angel who’s wearing a smug smile and leveling me with a confident gaze, watching me as I make my next move.
An angel who’s no longer an angel, freshly fallen and human.
“You know I have to keep an eye on your ego,” I grumble, putting down the word ‘zebra.’ I grin, satisfied with my earned points.
“I think I’m plenty humble,” Cas’ scoffs playfully back, placing down wooden pieces connecting to my word. I glance over to what he put down. ‘Zestful.’
“Man that can’t been a fucking word,” I groan, leaning my head back as Cas tallied up more points.
“It is a fucking word,” Cas replied mockingly, his pencil gliding across the paper as he added the numbers up. I scoff, rolling my eyes as I leaned back in my bed, arms crossed. He matched my glare with a playful smile, turning his body so I couldn’t see what he was writing.
“You're not going to like this,” he laughed. I huff but struggle to keep my expression indifferent when he chuckled, my lips threatening to turn upwards.
“Give me that-” I said, lunging over to him and grabbing him by the waist. He tried his best to fight against my grip, making an offended noise as I yanked the notebook from his grasp.
“Dean,” Cas complained, looking scandalized as he reached back for the notepad. I held it away from him, the few extra inches I had on him proving useful at keeping him at bay. I frowned as I read the tiny numbers, tutting when I realized I’d lost. Miserably.
“Cas I think your math is wrong,” I said, letting him snatch the notepad back. He rolled his eyes at me, smiling as he wrote down the final score.
“I think you're wrong,” He said, starting to pack the game up. I gasped in mock offence, reaching over to grab him again.
“Asshat,” I say, pulling him away from the game. He let me drag him away, smiling as I pushed him on his back and rolled over to straddle him. He’s warm and pliant as I locked eyes with him, his breath that had been quickened by our tustle quickly soothing into something softer as his fingers tangle themselves in my hair. I leaned in closer, gently pressing my lips into his while my own fingers ran up and down his sides in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. I stop when he suddenly breaks the kiss abruptly, squirming slightly away from my hands.
“What? What’s wrong?” I ask, sitting back in confusion. Cas shrugs, settling back when I take my hands away.
“That felt weird. Tingly.” He said, looking oddly ashamed about it. I frown, the dangerous dilemmas that a “weird and tingly” feeling could accompany before a random thought struck me. I grinned.
“Cas, I think you're ticklish,” I say, nearly choking on the wave of adoration that swept through my body. I pushed it down, swallowing it and firmly locking it in the box that holds the other feelings that Cas often causes. I know it’s unhealthy and Cas deserves so much better than that, but I can’t seem to take anything out of that box. I know at some point that it will burst, spilling everywhere for my angel to figure out like he always does, but for now I’ll just bask in the knowledge that Castiel, ex-angel of the friggin Lord is ticklish.
“Oh,” Cas says, his lips twisting as he, assumingly, absorbed my assessment. Feeling playful, I dig my fingers into his sides, dragging them up and down. Cas erupts into laughter, squirming underneath me as he tries in vain to get away from my hands. I can’t help but laugh myself, chuckling as he gasps for air. He tries to push me off of him with damn near tears in his eyes, a bright smile catching in the poor light of my bedroom.
“De-,” He starts, breaking out into giggles before he had a chance to finish his sentence. Deciding to be merciful, I let my fingers still as Cas catches his breath. His teeth disappear as he tries to curb his gummy smile and his arms protectively come around his middle.
“I don’t think I want to be ticklish,” He says when he finally catches his breath.
“I don’t know, it looked like you were having a lot of fun there,” I counter, leaning to sit back on my haunches. He huffs, pushing me off of him as he sits up with a stretch. I watch him as he yawns and runs in his hand through his hair, the gesture so human it makes my heart do a weird clench. He finishes putting the game away, getting up to place it neatly on my dresser. He looks damn near ready to drop, and stands awkwardly by the door, unsure on where to go. I scoff quietly, gesturing for him to get into bed beside me, yanking the covers aside. His shoulders relax and he crawls into bed with me, getting comfortable underneath the covers. It only then occurs to me then that I should probably go and check on Sam before calling it a night. It’s been nearly 2 weeks since he’s returned from the hospital, but it couldn’t hurt just make sure.
“Hold on,” I mutter to Cas, jumping out of bed and plod down the hall. I peek into Sam’s room, squinting my eyes to make out his form in the dark. He must have heard me come in, because he rolls over, sitting up with a quiet greeting.
“Hey Sammy. How you feeling?” I asked softly, walking over to feel his forehead. It was warm, a little warmer than what sleep warrants but nothing I was quite concerned about yet.
“Fine,” He says, his jaw nearly unhinging when he yawns, “tired.” I hum, taking my hand away and examining him the best I could in the dark. He was right, he did look dead tired but most of the color had come back into his face, and he wasn’t sweating buckets anymore. Perhaps it was truly getting better.
“Okay,” I relent, ruffling his bed head affectionately before taking a few steps back into the hall. “I say we still take it easy for the next couple weeks, let you get your strength up before we go after anything. And I mean anything, I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s just a salt and burn or another apocalypse, your laying low.” I say, shaking my head when Sam gives a lazy salute.
“Sir yes sir,” He mutters, laying down away from the door. My lips quirk against my own accord, and I fully turn back into the hall, closing the door gently behind me. Cas was curled up when I got back to my room, already asleep. I sighed fondly, flicking off the lights before climbing into bed beside him. My hand hovers over his back, contemplating whether or not I should attempt at pulling him closer. I’m not sure why the fear of rejection hangs so heavily over me, and the panic of admitting to myself that I’m falling in love with a guy certainly does not help. I was never so shy with girls, even when I was younger and figuring everything out. It probably helped that I was facing the monster of week more often than not, and at that point of time facing monsters was a lot scarier than facing girls. Actual emotions though, I guess that’s where it has me locked up. It was different though with Lisa, and while I was probably overbearing and overprotective in the time I spent with her and Ben, it never felt like this. It’s not like that they didn’t matter, because holy hell they gave me a life that I kind of always wanted. But this is Cas . Now that I have sorta come to terms with it, I think I can go further down that road and say that I probably would never love Lisa like I love Cas. It makes me guilty as hell, to have to waste a year of her life like that, especially to take it all away in the end. But I think I always kind of knew I wouldn’t be able to give myself over to her, not completely.
Cas deserves better too, deserves someone that he can have a relationship with without them having a sexuality crisis every 2 seconds. He’s patient as hell, and he’s always happy to wait while I figure myself out, standing by my side just as my best friend if need be.
“What’re you thinking about?” Cas grumbles, a tired blue eye peeking open to look at me. The hand that’s been hovering awkwardly above his back drops to his hair, and my fingers scratch lovingly ( shit ) at his scalp.
“Stuff. Past stuff. Nothing to worry about,” I say, my tone carefully lighthearted.
“Then how come you're worrying about it?” he counters, another eye opening as he watches me.
“I thought you were asleep,” I say.
“I was, but you were worrying too loud.” I snort rather unattractively, laughing softly to myself.
“Alright smartass,” I scoff, pulling the covers further up my chest, scooting slightly closer to Cas as I build up the confidence to pull him closer. My hands are unnecessarily sweaty and I can hear my heartbeat, which I can say for a fact is definitely not helping. It’s an unnecessary debacle every single time, considering we’ve spent the night together five out of the eight-ish days we’ve been together in each other’s bed. For fucksakes, I’ve held the man’s dick in my hand and I’m having trouble pulling him closer to sleep . A voice that sounds suspiciously like Sam whispers in the back of my head that sex is different then intimacy, but I push that down into the aforementioned box.
Fuck it . Gently so as not to scare him (he’s been a jumpy motherfucker since turning human), I wrap my arm around his waist and pull him closer to my body. His eyes don’t open but he settles his head in the crook of my neck, his arm falling to rest around my chest. A slow wave of contentment hits me like a ton of bricks as he relaxes into me and while I’m not quite ready to admit out loud, I like how his body feels against mine. He’s not soft curves and perfume, and he’s only lighter than me by a couple pounds. I can feel prickles of a beard growing where my thumb brushes his cheek and when I run it over his lips, it comes off clean without any remnants of lipstick. Those things were a constant in my life, but I don’t miss them, not when he’s soft and pliable under my hands. He smells like ozone and rain and thick muscle twitches under my hand when I run my hand down his stomach and over his waist. I can feel plush lips kiss underneath my jaw, and his head dig further into my neck as he drifts off. My lips quirk when the hand that was resting on my chest shifts slightly, grasping the material of my shirt. Fuck, I’ve never been so happy.