#deancas ficlet
Read on AO3
Dean takes his time, running his fingers over the banister of the porch. The white paint is chipping and worn down, but the wood, he can tell, is quality. No splinters, no cracking, no warping. It’s nice. He drags in a deep breath, his senses flooding with the scent of pine trees as the warm early-autumn air blows through them. The sky is clear, save for a couple little puffs of cloud here and there. And as his eyes scan the sky, he waits for it – that impending sense of doom and dread. Even when he’s trying to relax, it’s always there, bubbling beneath the surface. There’s a reason he’s slept with a gun under his pillow for three decades.
But he’s struck with the sudden realization: it’s not there. All he feels is calm and peace. Something he’s never really known.
Well, that’s not true, he silently amends.
He felt peace with Cas.
Frowning, Dean drops his head and closes his eyes. Cas… Fuck, he misses him. He misses everything about him. He misses telling Cas jokes that land like a fucking brick in front of him. He misses the tie that’s always askew. He misses that mess of hair. He misses those eyes Dean can, and often has, get lost in. He misses that trench coat. He misses Cas, plain and simple. And while he feels calm and peaceful here… it does feel like a piece of him is missing. It’s probably not supposed to. Not here. But it does.
It’s comforting to know he escaped the torment of the Empty… but, “Damn it, Cas,” he breathes, wrapping both hands around the banister.
“Hello, Dean.”
Standing suddenly, Dean opens his eyes and whips around. Cas is standing beside the battered screen door, smiling warmly at Dean. “Cas,” he breathes, his eyes wide as he looks him over, like he’s taking inventory of all his favorite things. Messy hair, check; crooked tie, check; trench coat, check; breathtaking eyes, check… Cas, check. “It’s–”
“Yes,” Cas nods. “It’s me.”
Dean surges forward, throwing his arms around him in a crushing hug. He buries his face against Cas’s neck and closes his eyes, breathing him in. It’s another thing he’d previously forgotten to add to his list of things he missed. That clean, earthy smell that was somehow distinctlyCastiel.
When he pulls away, his hand slips down Cas’s arm to his hand, his thumb brushing the inside of Cas’s wrist. He heaves a breath, the line between his brows deepening. “You’re a dick, you know that?” He says suddenly.
Cas blinks in surprise and tilts his head. “I– what?”
Dean purses his lips and shakes his head. “You drop somethin’ like that on me and then just fuck off to the netherworld?”
“I wasn’t in the Netherworld, I was–”
“In the Empty, whatever. You’re still a dick.”
Cas lifts his eyes to the ceiling of the porch, as if the answer to Dean’s outburst is written there. “I still don’t underst–”
“You drop that on me and then you die, and you didn’t give me a chance to say anything.”
“I didn’t think there was anything for you to say.”
Dean scoffs, incredulous. Didn’t think there was anything for him to say? “What show have you been watching, huh?”
“I haven’t been watching television.”
Though outwardly, Dean appears frustrated, he fucking missed this. But something suddenly occurs to him. “Wait.” He shakes his head, those lines between his brows growing deeper. “You really didn’t think I’d have somethin’ to say? You didn’t think I–”
“Reciprocated?” Cas says. He frowns, casting his glance downward. “No, Dean. I didn’t.”
“Well you’re dead wrong.”
One corner of Cas’s lips turn up in a smirk. “I believe we’re both deceased now.”
Scoffing, Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. “Did you just make a joke?”
“Yes,” Cas’s smile widens, “I believe I did.”
“Alright, listen.” Dean grasps the back of Cas’s neck, his fingers brushing up into his hair. There’s no sense of fear or uncertainty welling up inside of him anymore. He’s in Heaven. He gets what he wants. There’s no fear of judgment or self-sacrifice anymore. He’s just gonna fucking go for it. “I love you, Cas. I shoulda said somethin’ a long time ago, but I-I-I was scared, okay? I’m sorry. But–” He cuts himself off and glances out over the farmhouse’s property; the sprawling lawn (that he can’t wait to mow) surrounded by lush trees; the path that leads to the garage that houses Baby. The house he’s always imagined for himself, but always knew wasn’t a possibility. “This is about havin’ peace, right?” His gaze turns back to Cas’s, and he swallows the emotion rising in his throat. “We get forever here.”
“That is the idea, yes.”
Dean licks his lips and takes a step closer. His shoes bump Cas’s, and his hands slips further into the back of Cas’s hair. “Then that means I get forever with you, right?”
Cas is smiling, and he pulls his free hand out of the coat pocket. He grabs a fistful of Dean’s jacket and Dean watches his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows, Cas’s eyes roaming Dean’s face. “Of course, Dean.”
Dean breathes out in relief. All at once, that feeling that a puzzle piece was askew; the feeling that something was missing dissipates. Forty-one years of sacrifice and loss earned him this: a life of peace with the love of his life – the love that had come completely out of left field and left him breathless. Forty-one years of sacrifice and loneliness and loss earned him the love of a millennia-old angel who thought he was worth something. Worth everything.
He kisses Cas then. It’s soft and slow and gentle. There’s no sense of urgency or fear or desperation behind it. It’s being lovingly handed what he’s always wanted; what he’d always been missing. And, well… he’s in Heaven, so that makes a whole lot of sense.
When they part, Dean keeps his forehead against Cas’s, and they’re both smiling. Finally, Dean rocks back enough to meet Cas’s eyes. He tips his head toward the house and raises a brow. “Wanna come in. Stay a while?” He presses his lips together and shrugs. “I’m thinkin’ maybe forever?”
“I’d like nothing more.” Cas smiles, and Dean feels warmth flooding his chest. In Cas’s smile, Dean feels content. He feels like he’s home. He’s waited his whole life to feel like this. He tried, with Lisa and Ben, but that piece of the puzzle just wasn’t there. He tried with the Bunker, and while he loved that place… there was always just something not quite right. But here, he has Cas. He feels calm. He has no feeling of cosmic obligation or the feeling that he’s running the clock. He has everything he’s ever wanted.
For the first time, and for the rest of time, Dean Winchester is at peace.
Hello, beautiful people, I just hit 700 followers!
To celebrate, because I’m back on my DeanCas bull shit and #cantstopwontstop, send me asks with your headcanons or mini prompts, and I’ll write you a drabble!
Hello, beautiful people, I just hit 700 followers!
To celebrate, because I’m back on my DeanCas bull shit and #cantstopwontstop, send me asks with your headcanons or mini prompts, and I’ll write you a drabble!
Reblogging if you want to send me fix-it headcanons, fix-it prompts, Heaven prompts, etc.
SEND ME THINGS WE’RE IN THIS TOGETHER!
Two Sand Dunes
Wc 421, established relationship, fluff, beach trip, cheesy jokes
For@icefire149 here’s todays beach joke
Waves crashing, seagulls crying, and the hot June air are sending Dean into a comfortable doze. The bright afternoon sun is creating sparkling patterns through his eyelids. He had played in the water some with Sam, Eileen, Jack, and Claire before surrendering to the beach towel’s call. And Cas. Cas who was still frolicking in the water now- undoubtedly collecting a metric shit ton of shells- even after the others had gone inside for a break.
Dean is laying on his stomach, head resting on an actual small pillow because Cas is smart, arms bracketing his head. He can’t recall ever being this relaxed before.
He feels more than hears Cas return. Cool palms press against his shoulders and turn to fingers dancing down his spine. Dean can’t help but smile even as he squirms against the sensation.
Attempting to guess where Cas is he swats a hand above himself. “Babe your hands are freezing!"
"Oh?” Cas’ voice is much closer than he anticipated. “I didn’t realize.” Cas moves his hands to Dean’s sides and starts tickling, stealing his breath and ability to speak. An embarrassing giggle escapes his lips and tears begin to trail down his face. Cas’s hands still.
“It’s time to reapply sunscreen."
Dean blinks through the tears. "Cas, the hell? You literally could have asked like a normal person!"
Cas helps Dean up and pulls them close together. He leans forward and Dean grins in anticipation but its Cas’ freezing swim shorts that come into contact with Dean’s sun warmed body. He definitely does not shriek. Cas holds him there for a second, "I am not a normal person.”
Dean rolls his eyes and gently pushes Cas away. “You are now, babe. Hence the sunscreen break.” Cas scowls adorably.
They take turns reapplying sunscreen to each other, taking care to get those easily forgotten about spots. Then they sit on the beach towel side by side as they wait for the sunscreen to set. Dean stares out into the ocean and feels himself drifting off again.
After a few minutes, Cas gently picks up Dean’s hand.
“Dean, what did one sand dune say to the other?”
Dean smiles even as he huffs. “Another one? Uh ok um… I dunno, Cas, long time no sea?”
Cas brings his other, slightly sandy, hand up to Dean’s face. “No, it said I will never desert you.”
“And the other sand dune said me either.” Dean murmurs as he leans in to press a kiss to Cas’ sea salty lips.
