It's Tuesday...again. Accidently fell asleep, and when I woke up I half expected to hear HEEEAT OF THE MOMENT. Because yeah, SPN dominates my life that much.
Anyways, I was daydreaming a bit in science today and suddenly it occured to me that since Cas is human now, he needs an anti-possesion symbol tattoo! Huh? Am I right or am I right? And because he's no longer an badass angel of the fucking lord, he'll feel pain differently. RIGHT?! So, of course, my warped mind delved into all the possible ways Cas could get said tattoo in the most cannon Destiel way possible, and I came up with this. I literally scribbled it down in about 5 minutes, so pardon my lack of interesting wording. Tried to make it as realistic as I could(: Hopefully something similar to this gets included in Season 9! *hopeful fangirl squeal*
...
"That doesn't look very sterile," Castiel frowned when he saw the tattoo parlor. Dean had done extensive research on the topic to ensure his friend the safest one around, but- let's face it- how many tattoo parlors don't look a little bit sketchy? So the Winchester just rolled his eyes and shoved the angel through the door and into the tiny waiting room. There were two other occupants, both women and both with tattoo sleeves running up their arms and more than several body piercings. Cas eyed them with the same nervousness he displayed in the brothel when Chastity was talking to him, throat working as he swallowed nervously.
"Hey sweetie," a girl behind the counter said. She couldn't have been older than twenty and the majority of her exposed skin was already covered in tattoos. The main focus of her artwork was a devil tailed, horned heart right above her cleavage and Dean couldn't help but chuckle softly at the irony. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah," the hunter grinned, stepping up to the register and motioning to Cas. "He wants to get a tattoo." Dean leaned forward a little and lowered his voice. "He's a bit nervous."
The girl smiled back and sent Castiel a comforting wink that only made him blanch more and fix his panicked gaze on a small potted plant in the corner.
"First time?" she whispered, and Dean nodded. "Well, just come on back!"
The artist led the pair into a small tattooing room and dropped a curtain over the doorway behind them. The walls were decorated with various decals, symbols, and popular phrases. When Castiel's eyes fell on a pair of angel wings, his spine visibly drooped and he unconsciously reached behind him to rub one of his shoulder blades. Just a few days ago, Dean had stitched up two gaping holes in his back where there had once been wing joints. The hunter stepped in front of the picture and offered a small, reassuring smile.
"Sit here, honey," the artist directed at Cas, patting the tattooing chair. He plunked down uncomfortably straight-backed and folded his hands tightly in his lap, turning his eyes up to the ceiling. If Dean hadn't known better, he'd say the fallen angel was praying.
"Do you have a picture of what you want?" she questioned as she arranged her tools. Dean mentally kicked himself.
"Same as mine," he rushed, unbuttoning the three buttons of his shirt and pulling it to the side to show the artist. She squinted at it and shrugged before pulling out a pot of black.
"Looks simple enough," she chirped. "Same place?"
Castiel just continued to stare at the ceiling, eyes wide and glassy.
"Sweetie?" the girl prodded, and the ex-angel jumped back into reality.
"What? Oh. Yes." He tugged his shirt over his head and lay back in the chair, shooting Dean a look akin to that of a trapped animal.
"Can I just take a picture of it?" the artist asked, brandishing her smart phone at Dean's chest. "For reference?"
"Sure," he shrugged, and pulled his shirt aside once more as the girl snapped a photo.
"Ready, darling?" Cas' eyes got impossible wider and he nodded once, sharply, before squeezing his eyes shut. Dean tried to restrain himself from staring at how his chest rose and fell with the breath he needed now, the smooth expanse of pale skin all his own.
The fallen angel jumped when the buzzing started and when the needle first touched his skin, Castiel whimpered and bit his bottom lip. This was the first real pain he was experiencing as a human, and without his big badass angel powers it must be overwhelming. Dean sat down next to the chair and took the fallen angel's hand in his own. He gave it a quick squeeze.
"S'alright," he murmured and ran a hand through the other's hair soothingly. He wracked his brain for something comforting to say, but came up blank, so instead began to whistle the tune to Hey Jude softly. Castiel's breathing began to slow down and the frown between his eyebrows relaxed.
"How long have you been together?" the artist asked nonchalantly, scooping his more black.
"Uh," Dean blurted, ears turning bright red. "We're not-"
"Five years," Cas interrupted breathlessly, obviously misunderstanding the girl's question. Dean couldn't explain the difference of together and known each other in front of the girl, so he clamped his mouth shut and prayed his face didn't burn off.
"You make an adorable couple," she offered with a small smile.
Oh god.
"Thanks," Dean mumbled, looking anywhere but at Cas.
The ex-angel remained calm throughout the whole ordeal, timing his breath on the notes that Dean was whistling to him. He kept his eyes shut the whole time, but produced no more noises and his face seemed void of all emotion. When the tattoo was done, he pulled his shirt back on without another word, but Dean didn't miss the longing gaze he shot the pair of angel wings on his way out of the room.