Author's note:
Howdy! This is a senseless fluff. Seriously; so much freaking fluff. But we should all stock up on as much fluff as possible, because S8 premiere is gonna be brutal. I can't wait. Anyways, feedback is always appreciated. Reviews are lovely, just like you.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of it's characters, nor do I make a profit from this. *sob*
A Punch From the Protective Man
The Winchesters and Castiel had finished a successful hunt that day. A typical salt-and-burn with a reward of adding another family to their 'People Saved'list. Despite the list growing with each hunt, the list of 'People Not Saved'still seemed to hold a significant advantage over it. No matter the numbers overwhelming the latter list, the amount of people they saved never seemed to make them feel any less guilty about all of the people they couldn't. It was Sam's idea to send Dean and Castiel out for an alleged "date night" with parting words of-
"You guys seriously need to go get some drinks or something. This motel room is depressing enough as it is."
Dean had protested that "Dean Winchester didn't go on dates", but still grabbed his coat and the keys to the Impala. He had gently dragged Castiel out of the room with him, and opened the passenger door for Castiel with a swift tug. Dean had spotted a decent-looking bar on the way into town and led the Impala down almost absent streets with clean turns and the soft rumble of the engine as the soundtrack to their drive. Dean and Castiel had been together long enough to be comfortable in silence, rather than have the need to fill the silence between them with useless chatter.
Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot in front of the bar and got out, waiting for Castiel to catch up with him in front of the door despite the chill in the air. He pushed the local bar's doors open and basked in the wave of heat that welcomed him and Castiel inside. Those who were unfortunate enough to sit at tables closest to the doors shivered as a blast of brisk winter air bit their open skin, but they disregarded the two men who entered after a quick, annoyed glance in their direction. Dean challenged their looks with one much more daring and almost menacing as he led himself to the bar counter to start the most likely long night ahead of them. He felt the hot breath of Castiel walking basically on his heels, and abruptly stopped, which caused Castiel to bump into him from behind with a soft grunt of surprise. Dean turned to face Castiel, who looked completely lost and helpless in his surroundings. Dean sighed and wiped a hand over his face.
"Cas," Dean huffed, "You don't need to follow me to the bar. I can get us some beers, you go grab us a table." Dean gestured to an empty table in the far corner of the bar. Castiel's gaze followed to where Dean gestured and his eyes showed obvious reluctance to leave Dean's side. Dean placed his hand reassuringly on Castiel's fore arm. "I won't be long, alright?"
Dean wasn't exactly thrilled to leave Castiel alone, either, but chose not to make their already considerably clingy relationship cross the creepy, 'get-a-room' line. Castiel seemed to be in thought for a moment before nodding his understand. He made his way to the table, walking with intense determination as if leading into battle. Dean's lips twitched into a slight smile, then approached the bar counter. He leaned forward, resting his elbows against the wood surface, and greeted the bartender with a friendly, almost forced, smile. The excessive friendliness was not lost on the bartender, as the seductive smile plastered on her face was immediately withdrawn. Dean had might as well been wearing a sign with 'IN-A-RELATIONSHIP' written boldly across.
"What can I get you?" the bartender drawled with a heavy southern accent.
"Two beers," Dean answered, patting two fingers on the glossy bar counter. The bartender nodded, turning her back on Dean. "You're not from around here are you?" Dean asked in a distracted attempt at small talk.
"Is it that obvious?" She teased, turning her head enough so Dean could see the easy grin she wore.
"With that accent of yours in this frozen Tundra? Couldn't be more obvious." The bartender laughed, and bent over to retrieve the beers. Dean's forced smile relaxed into a real one as satisfaction settled in, creating a warm feeling in the bottom of his stomach, and an almost floating sensation in his head. He just succeeded in a normal conversation with a stranger, and nowadays that was becoming harder and harder to do. He couldn't help the victorious feeling that tonight might just be a normal night of drinking and spending time with Castiel. Dean's smile grew into a giddy grin.
Dean shifted to throw a warm gaze towards Castiel- who would most likely be staring at Dean, as always- but his eyes froze on the sight. His stomach sunk, and he felt his face heat up in rage. Dean could see a man- and a large one at that- facing away from him and towards Castiel. Dean couldn't see the expression on the man's face, but his body tensed with anger now similar to Dean's.
Dean's eyes immediately shot to Castiel, and he could see clear fright written on the angel's face. The large man must have misinterpreted Castiel's fear for a fear of his own well-being, as even Dean could sense the confidence rising in the man; enough confidence to test Castiel with harsh insults and threats. Dean knew that Castiel was scared of reacting wrongly in the situation- rather than his safety because even without his angel mojo Castiel was still strong in human-standards- Castiel didn't know if he should ignore the man, try to calm him, or appease the man's dares of fighting. Dean felt his rage towards the man growing. He was furious that anyone put Castiel in such a vulnerable position and managed to ruin a nearly perfect night. In almost slow motion, he watched as the man took a step closer to Castiel, and his grotesquely fat hand reached out to grip Castiel's arm tightly.
"Are you going to pay for this now or should I open a tab?" The bartender asked, but her question fell on empty air as Dean was already storming through the bar towards the table.
"Hey," Dean roared once he got nearer, "Get your filthy hand off of him!" The man turned around to face Dean, a cocky smirk playing on his face, and his mouth opened to say some probably snide remark. What would be a snide remark was interrupted by a fist crashing into the side of his face, and the man stumbled to the ground. Dean towered over the crumbled heap of man on the floor, and he seethed in anger. His fist clenched and he took a step forward to beat the living shit out of the man when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face Castiel, who's terror was long gone and replaced by a placid expression.
"Dean," Castiel's voice was gruff with demand, but Dean was fascinated at how it still managed to sound gentle and empathetic, "That's enough." Dean met Castiel's blue eyes, and threw one last disgusted glance at the most likely unconscious man on the floor, before deciding that he really wasn't worth his time.
"Let's get out of here," Dean mumbled, and reached out to grip Castiel's hand so tight that it would have been painful if he was human. Castiel's eyes studied their entwined hands before moving his gaze back up to Dean.
Dean tugged Castiel out of the bar, noticing that the bar had gone quiet since he punched the man. All eyes in the bar followed him and Castiel as they walked through to the door, and Dean thought he saw a faint smile aimed at them from the bartender. Dean sighed; this really wasn't how he planned his and Castiel's night to turn out.
"Son-of-a-bitch," Dean hissed as the freezing air held him in a much more uncomfortable blanket than the heat of the bar. His breath came out in clouds, and he watched as it faded into the dark night air.
"Dean?"
"I leave you for five freaking seconds and you manage to piss some burly guy off. How the hell did you manage to do that?" Dean snarled, but made note to calm down as he saw Castiel wince at his tone.
"The man was very much interested in the same table as us. I tried to convince him to seek a different table, but he refused to listen."
"Who the fuck get's that attached to a freaking table?"
"I believe the man had some temperamental issues," Castiel met Dean's gaze, "Much like someone I know," he stated matter-of-factly. Dean's jaw dropped.
"Dude, was that sass?"
"I wouldn't know, Dean, I'm not acquainted with the more modernized forms of speak," Castiel answered, yet a smile ghosted it's way onto Castiel's face. Dean almost smiled in return, but remembered the man gripping Castiel's arm and his smile was immediately stopped by a look of distaste.
"No one touches you but me, alright?"
"Alright, Dean," Castiel replied.
"I can never leave you alone again," Dean grumbled sarcastically, but the sarcasm was just a front for the truth in his words. After that, Dean couldn't care less if their relationship was creepily clingy. They had far from typical lives, so it's not like a regular relationship was expected out of them. Hell, it'd be creepier if their relationship wasn't abnormal.
Dean snaked a protective arm around Castiel's waist and pulled him in for a chaste kiss. He rested his forehead against Castiel's, meeting the blue eyes staring back at him.
"I'm sorry this night sucked ass," Dean murmured, closing his eyes so he didn't have to see the disappointment in Castiel's eyes.
"Dean, I had a wonderful night." Dean's eyes snapped open to inspect Castiel. Instead of disappointment, Dean found only affection and love flooding him. "All I want is to spend time with you, if you have thought anything different than you are mistaken. I do not care what it is we do, or what situation arises, as long as I am by your side then I am happy. I belong by your side, Dean." Dean grinned, and the arm that wasn't wrapped around Castiel fixed that and pulled the angel into a tight embrace.
"In that case; we have some time to kill before mother-Sam will be calling to bitch about curfew. I was thinking we could just go drive around in the Impala, sound good to you?" Dean asked hopefully.
"I would enjoy that very much, Dean," Castiel answered honestly. Dean planted one more kiss on top of Castiel's mess of dark hair, then reluctantly released his grip to open the door of the Impala for Castiel, before walking around to get in the car himself.
The seats of the Impala were cold, and made him fidget as his fingers dug into his pockets in a successful search for the keys. Dean stumbled with the keys, before finally turning on the car and almost sighing in relief as the heated air brushed against his skin.
"Ready?" Dean asked with a grin. Castiel nodded, giving Dean permission to pull the Impala out of the parking lot and down the dark streets that beckoned them.