Destiel AU: Castiel is a secret agent of Russian intelligence, Dean is from the CIA. They're playing this game a long time.
HEADCANON: BEFORE CAS MANAGES TO RAISE DEAN FROM PERDITION, DEAN PUTS CAS ON THE RACK
at the gas station
where did they spend the night
Anonymous asked: “Dean entered the room and looked Cas in the eye. Suddenly his clothes were on the floor and they stood naked together. Cas looked at Dean and his semen sprayed went off like a faucet on crack. Human white yoghurt juice covered the walls, the ceiling, everything. The ceiling fan magically turned on. Dean's white magic water sprayed on Cas. Cas's ding-a-ling-a-ding-dong sprayed cosmic angel white goo over Dean. They got married that day.”
I fucking lost it at the ceiling fan magically turning on I’m just
"Okay, I got one. Let’s role play that I’m me at twenty-five, still in the closet, and hunting alone. You’re you, who just jumped back in time to show me the night of my life."
That’s how Dean ended up in a dive bar at midnight, pretending that he wasn’t waiting for Cas to come through the door. It was spooky how easy it was to turn the clock back ten years and shoot pool like he used to. Maybe he hadn’t changed that much after all. Just subtract a couple of apocalypses, a dead dad, and coming out as bi, and he was right back where he started, more or less.
"Would you allow me to buy you a drink?"
Dean jumped. Because twenty-five-year-old Dean would have jumped, and also because Cas had, as always, managed to genuinely startle him. “Sneak up on a guy, why don’t you?” But then he turned to look Cas up and down and… damn. Twenty-five-year-old Dean might not have had the balls to take Cas up on the offer, but would have wished he had. “Whiskey, neat,” he said with a grin.
Getting to meet Cas for the first time sans barn and sigils and exploding lights was kind of bizarre. He didn’t even get tipsy no matter how many drinks Dean bought him, and he was an absolute wizard at pool. He kept looking at Dean with those big, blue eyes full of fondness and longing. And he was hot. Damn, he was hot, especially when Dean convinced him to leave his coats hanging over the back of a chair and play pool in his shirt and tie.
Twenty-five-year-old Dean wouldn’t have taken this strange man home. Twenty-five-year-old Dean would have flirted with him, maybe kissed him, maybe sucked him off in the alley behind the bar. But right-now Dean wanted more than that, so he and Cas followed the script they had decided on earlier.
"Where are you staying?"
"It’ll be a pain in the ass trying to find a hotel this time of night. I’ve got a room. You can crash with me."
Cas looked Dean in the eye with a smile that was at once innocent and knowing. “I accept.”
Twenty-five-year-old Dean didn’t invite strange men back to his room. But with eyes like that, even without the script, twenty-five-year-old Dean might have made an exception.
The script ended at the hotel room door, because they pretty much knew what to do after that.
They tumbled inside, already kissing, hands already all over each other. Dean dropped his coat and his button-down shirt somewhere between the door and the bed, and he was working on his t-shirt as he let Cas push him down until he was sitting on the mattress.
But instead of joining him on the bed, Cas took Dean’s face in his hands and said, “I’m sorry, Dean.”
Dean fumbled with Cas’s belt buckle. “What for?”
"For everything that will soon be asked of you. For the weight that will soon be placed on your shoulders. Your burden is too heavy already, and I regret that I will find myself playing a part in adding to it."
Cas ran his thumbs over Dean’s eyelids, his cheekbones, his lips. “I can see that you are in pain, Dean. I wish I could tell you that it will get better, but I can’t. All I can tell you is that I will be here for you, in whatever capacity you need me, as often as I am able.”
"And," said Cas. "That now, and ten years from now, and one hundred years from now, you have the most beautiful soul that I have ever seen walk this Earth."
None of that was in the script. Neither were the tears that stung Dean’s eyes nor the vice that gripped his chest.
Thirty-six-year-old Dean cried for his twenty-five-year-old self. And Cas held him until he fell asleep.
That’s about as clear as it can get.
They’ve given the answer to the question.
Can we let this go now and just enjoy the fan-created phenomenon known as shipping, and keep our beloved and awesome ships distinct from the show, as it was always intended to be?
wank for ts
things that totally 100% happened in s9 → 3/23
I would have stayed up with you all night
had I known how to save a life.
“You can love someone so much… But you can never love people as much as you can miss them.”