It's Wednesday again, which means it's time for Writing Prompt Wednesday! This week's theme is "dive instructor/student AUs."

What is Writing Prompt Wednesday?

Writing Prompt Wednesday is a feature I run on my Tumblr. Followers, readers and friends suggest themes for AUs, and I come up with a list of prompts based on the suggested them. Then, based on those prompts, anyone who wants to join in writes up a short story (or a long story, I guess) and posts it to Tumblr (or AO3, or wherever) and tags it Writing Prompt Wednesday!

You can read more about Writing Prompt Wednesday, and read this week's entries, on my tumblr, unforth-ninawaters!

This week, I chose this prompt:

I'm sorry that he/she is so enthusiastic, he/she is 10 and has been wanting to try this since they were 4 and we're finally here and yeah, I'm coming along for the dive too, but please just make sure they have fun, that's all that matters to me AU


"Dad, Dad, look!" Claire rushed out of the women's changing room in a wet suit and twirled to give Castiel a 360 view. "I thought it would be awful and clammy and uncomfortable but it's really not at all! It fits great!"

"May I take a picture?" Castiel asked his daughter. It was impossible not to smile to see her so happy. Her glee more than made up for how uncomfortably exposed he felt in his own wet suit and how nervous he was about getting in the water. He could barely swim and was leery of being completely submerged in deep water with only a lifeline and an oxygen feed to protect him, but this was Claire's dream. Their entire vacation was designed to ensure that she'd get the chance to try scuba diving, her first lesson scheduled months in advance with the highest ranked instructor in the Bahamas and tentative arrangements already made for additional lessons each day of the trip, provided she enjoyed the first and wanted to continue.

Judging by the elation beaming brightly from her face as she nodded and posed for Castiel, she was going to want every one of those sessions. They had two full weeks on Paradise Island and Castiel would do whatever he must to get her in the water every day, as long as doing so put that look on her face and that brightness in her eyes. She'd been through too much the last few years for him to spare any expense to make her smile. Pulling out his cell phone, Castiel quickly took a series of pictures of his beautiful daughter.

"Lookin' good!"

Their instructor was a younger man, extremely good looking. His suit fit him like a second skin, rubbery fabric contouring every muscle in his arms and legs, every hard plane of his chest and abdomen, every bulge and every curve of his body. The dip at his lower spine was particularly pronounced, emphasized by the contrast with the lush curve of his muscular ass – an ideal swimmers build on a man in peak physical condition. Castiel found him extremely distracting, especially his face: short damp hair spiked in all directions, eyes brilliant green, skin tanned, freckles scattered thick over his nose, thinner over his cheeks, a couple showing on his neck, one half-hidden by his suit.

I wonder if he's that tanned everywhere? Is there anywhere he doesn't have freckles?

Reviews said that despite his youth, Dean Winchester ran the best scuba school in the Caribbean. If Castiel had realized how spectacularly attractive he was, he'd have picked the second best school instead.

No. No, he wouldn't have. This was for Claire. It had to be perfect for her.

"You both ready?" Dean asked. His gruff voice seemed ill-suited for such brightness and cheer. Castiel desperately tried not to think about what it was more suited to.

Running my hands over that spectacular body ill-concealed by that suit, "just like that, Castiel, just like that…"

He flushed crimson and nodded agreement as Claire chirped, "oh my God, Mr. Winchester, I am so ready!"

"You can call me Dean, Ms. Novak."

"Only if you call me Claire!"

"Alright, Claire," Dean smiled warmly at her, and Castiel's heart felt like it flipped in his chest. Claire was looking at the handsome teacher like he was the second coming, and Dean was looking at her with an entirely appropriate level of camaraderie and friendship – nothing condescending, nothing disrespectful, nothing creepy – and Castiel swallowed.

He's straight, he's straight, he's straight, Gabe was always make fun of me because everyone I'm interested in is always straight, get a grip, Cassie…

"What about you, Mr. Novak?"

"I'm ready," he said faintly.

"Trust me," Dean said with another winning smile that showed a perfect line of white teeth. "I'm going to take good care of both of you."

God, yes…please!


The scuba lesson went fantastically. Claire had a blast, which was all that really mattered, but much to his surprise Castiel found that he enjoyed it as well. Under Dean's tutelage, all his nerves fell away, all his worries faded, even all his distraction at Dean's gorgeous appearance disappeared. Quite aside from his physical appeal, Dean was a great teacher, and by the end of two hours Castiel was tired, drained, but looking forward to the next day. He had learned a lot, about diving and technique and etiquette and safety, and also about history and nature and the environment and conservation. Not only had they had a lot of fun, not only was Claire gushing with delight about every detail, but they'd also seen some beautiful sights, flitted among the corals, accidentally scattered a large school of small neon green fish, and learned a valuable lesson on why sharks are nothing to worry about.

"Tomorrow, same time, right?"

"Dad…"

"Yeah?" Castiel asked with an indulgent smile.

"Can we make it three hours instead of two?"

"That's up to Mr. Winchester," Castiel demurred.

"Lemme check my calendar," Dean replied. Castiel and Claire were back in their street clothes, but Dean had only removed his flippers, gloves and mask. Hurrying to the office behind the modest reception area of Scuba ProTours, the door slammed shut behind him.

"That was amazing, wasn't that amazing? Oh my god, I can't even believe it, we can go again tomorrow right? Three hours is okay, right? Can we go every day? What about when we get home? Can I take lessons in Illinois? Do they do scuba in Lake Michigan? Actually that sounds kind of disgusting, I don't think I want to do that, but maybe we can come back here? Maybe we can take more lessons? With Dean?" Claire scarce drew breath in her exuberance.

"There must be ways to take lessons at home," Castiel said pensively, surprised he'd never thought of it before. "Even if it's in a swimming pool. We'll figure something out, I promise."

"Yes!" Claire fist-pumped the air. Dean came out, fumbling with his phone.

"Should be good for three hours, yeah," he said distractedly, flicking his pointer across the screen. "My schedule is actually pretty clear the next couple weeks. It's not peak season here, so I can confirm those other tentative lessons you wanted, and we can add hours to them, too. Pretty much – for the next two weeks, I'm yours, if you want me." The ingenuous look that accompanied these guileless words was enough to make Castiel's breath catch and his heart race.

Men like him flirt like breathing. He's probably straight. Don't hope. Do not hope. There is nothing here.

"That's why we came now," said Claire. "Dad let me take two weeks off school, had to write all kinds of letters to get permission for me to miss so long. Principal Crowley almost didn't allow it anyway, even after I promised to write an entire essay about scuba, but Dad threatened to take it to the school board and—" She flushed and cut off. "Never mind, you don't need to know any of that, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," said Dean, a gentleness in his eyes reflected in his tone. "Man, you remind me so much of my kid brother, it's hilarious."

"Does he do scuba too?" asked Claire breathlessly.

"Nope, he was always more interested in surfing," Dean shrugged, expression momentarily going distant as he glanced out the window. His office was right on the beach and the large glass pane looked out on golden sand and stunning blue waves. Small groups of vacationers lay amidst colorful blankets and umbrellas, splashed amidst the warm water, or walked barefoot along the ocean. "He's gone now."

Claire's face fell instantly and Castiel's stomach sank. The last thing Castiel wanted Claire thinking about right now was Gabriel. Come to think of it, it was the last thing Castiel wanted to think about as well.

Gabe would have loved it here, he would have been so excited to get some time off, to see the waves, to swim with Claire, to share a bottle of wine and a great meal.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," said Claire, with all the somberness that the past two years had taught her.

No child should lose a parent so young. It wasn't fair. I shouldn't have had to lose my husband. It wasn't fair to either of us.

"Wait…oh, God, no, that's not what I…he's at college in the States," Dean corrected them hastily. "Should be back this summer. Worried I'm gonna lose him to California permanently, there's this chick, and…" He trailed off. "Crap, I really ruined the mood, didn't I?" Laughing awkwardly, Dean ran a hand through his wet hair, sending strands in all directions. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," Castiel said, shaking off the gloom.

"This was so much fun," Claire said in a weak imitation of her prior excitement. "I can't wait for tomorrow." A spark of life returned to those words and with the resilience of youth she gave Dean a shy smile. He returned it, giving Castiel a sidelong glance as well.

"Thank you, Mr. Winchester," Castiel said gravely.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Novak," Dean replied with an apologetic half-shrug.


"Oh my God," gushed Claire. "Did you hear all that stuff that Dean told me about dolphins? He thinks that in another couple days I might be good enough to go swimming with them! Like, in their natural habitat and everything!"

"I heard," Castiel smiled at her. "More pasta?"

"Yes, it's so good," Claire grabbed her fork and immediately stabbed it through a heavily sauced penne as Castiel poured a ladle full on to her plate. "My report for Ms. Rosen is going to be awesome," she continued around a full mouth. "I can put in all that information about conservation and stuff! Man, Dean is pretty amazing, isn't he?"

"He's an excellent instructor," agreed Castiel, pouring himself a second serving. A week into their trip, it was impossible to credit his initial worry that with the ample food at their hotel he might gain weight. They were up to five hours a day with Mr. Winchester, and if anything Castiel thought he'd lost weight.

"Oh, is that all?" she said knowingly. Shocked, Castiel jerked his head up to find her looking at him shrewdly. Coloring under the intensity of her gaze, he went back to spooning steaming pasta on to his plate. "Come on, Dad, did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered unconvincingly.

"He's gorgeous, right?" she pressed on, undeterred by his reticence. "I mean, those freckles, and that tan, and those eyes – you saw him in his swim trunks the other night, right?"

Castiel had seen, could not possibly not have seen. The resort had held a family night and Dean had been there, swimming in the pool like he was born to the water, wearing nothing but short trunks, muscles rippling as he paddled lazily and socialized easily with everyone. Every inch of skin was tanned to golden perfection and peppered with freckles, every bit of visible flesh was even more defined when he wasn't wearing a body suit, pink nipples begged to be tweaked, and good God there could not be anything more embarrassing than getting hard while sitting opposite his ten year old daughter sharing dinner. A lot of people, mostly women, a few men, had shown interest in Dean that night, not that Castiel had been watching, but Dean had appeared to politely demure in every case – equally polite, regardless of their gender. That didn't tell him anything.

There's nothing to tell. There's nothing here. This is all part of a vacation, it's almost like a dream, and then we'll go home and life will be normal again.

"Yeah, you saw him." She gave him a smirk, far too aware for her age, that left him blushing even more deeply.

"There's nothing…I mean…we're going home in a week, he's got to be 15 years younger than me, it's completely ridiculous…we've got a life in Pontiac …um…"

Chancing a glance up, he saw her roll her eyes overdramatically. "Come on, dad," she said, "it doesn't have to be a lifetime commitment. Don't grown-ups have flings, like, all the time?"

God, she sounds so much like Gabe.

"I think you're confusing my life with a sitcom again," he said dryly.

"I'm just saying," she sounded much more hesitant all of a sudden, and now she was the one staring at her plate, poking at the contents indifferently. "You don't have to stay alone."

"Claire—"

"No! Listen," she looked up, caught his eye, something desperate and sad to her expression. "Since Dad died, you've kept to yourself, but it's been years! I hate to see you so lonely, and I worry…I worry you're doing it for my sake. I'm not a kid any more, it's okay with me if you date someone else. I want you to be happy."

"It's too soon," murmured Castiel.

"It's been two years!"

There was no way to explain to a ten year old that to a forty one year old, two years wasn't an endless span of life. There was no way to explain to her that it still felt like infidelity to consider a new relationship. There was no way to explain why he still wore his wedding ring. He and Gabriel had been married for 13 years, together for 17. All those feelings didn't just go away after only two years.

And yet...if Dean Winchester were interested...but it doesn't matter. This isn't real.

Resisting the urge to pull the age card ("aren't you a little young for this conversation?") Castiel tried a different tactic. "Even if I were interested—"

"You are interested, you look at him just the way you used to look at Dad," Claire interrupted.

"Even if I were interested in another relationship," persisted Castiel, "what does that have to do with Mr. Winchester?"

"Really?" she asked, incredulous. "You haven't noticed the way he looks at you?"

The flutter in Castiel's chest was undeniable and he repressed the urge to say aloud what was really bothering him.

What if we do really like each other? Then what happens? There's no future in this, and I have no interest in pursuing a short term relationship. Claire needs more stability than that…and so do I. I can't talk to her about that, though. She's just a kid.

An insane wish bubbled in him.

I wish Gabe was here to talk to. He always knew what to do at moments like this. What should I do, love? What's best for us now that you're gone?

Go for it. That's what Gabe would say, that's what he'd say was the right thing to do. Go for it, and have fun, and if that's all that ever happens, that's fine, and if there's more after that, that's good too.

But there's nothing to go for. Claire's wrong. Dean's just being a good businessman, a good teacher, a good hospitality specialist.

That's all.

"Dad—"

"I appreciate your opinion on this," Castiel said quellingly. "When we get home, I'll think about it more. Let's focus on enjoying the rest of the trip, okay? I'm looking forward to going to the bioluminescent cove that Dean was talking about, aren't you?"


"Last day, huh?" said Dean, and though he spoke to Claire, his eyes were on Castiel.

"No," Claire said. "We have one more, we're going on a whole-day scuba trip tomorrow!"

"That sounds great – who with?" Dean said. The brightness in his voice sounded forced as it hadn't when they first started meeting.

It's in your head, Cassie, it's all in your head. A man like him would never have any interest in you.

"With my Dad?" Claire replied blankly.

"With Bahamian Sunrise," supplied Castiel.

"They're good – especially Singer, he doesn't look like much but he's one of the best divers on the islands, taught me everything I know," said Dean.

"Claire, do you remember who is leading the tour?"

"Uh…uh...there were a few people, I can't remember, someone named Fitzgerald—"

"Oh, Garth is back, great!"

"And Baldwin, maybe?"

"Bradbury?"

"Yes! I can't wait to meet her, she looked really cool in the pictures on the website," said Claire happily.

"She's awesome, one of my best friends," supplied Dean. "Don't worry – even if you're not with Singer, you're in good hands. They run fantastic tours. Is your Mom going?"

"I don't have a Mom," said Claire, giving Castiel a look he couldn't comprehend.

"Another Dad?" asked Dean after a moment's hesitation.

That's not optimism I hear. Why would it be, he knows we're leaving in two days, there's no reason the gorgeous, smart, enthusiastic dive instructor who seems to think my daughter is awesome would ever look at me that way, I—

"Not anymore." It was the first time in two years Castiel had heard Claire reference Gabriel without sounding sad. If anything, she sounded…suggestive?

"...oh."

That was all Dean said. Castiel had no clue what to do with that answer, but it left him sad and a wrung out from going round and round in his head.

Nothing. There's nothing to do. Everything I've thought about this man since the day I met him is absurd.

"Well, uh, let's get this lesson started, right?" said Dean awkwardly. Without another word, he walked by Castiel and Claire, looking every inch a Greek God, bronze skin and freckled cheeks and that perfect ass in that damn sinful wet suit and it was a good thing they were leaving.

Then why does my heart hurt so much?

Definitely a good thing.

"It's been a real pleasure," Dean said as soon as Castiel stepped out of the changing room. Claire was already out, blonde hair in a damp braid, blue eyes glowing with delight.

"Dean, you are, like, the best," she exclaimed. "This has been so much fun, I wish we could just keep coming back here every day forever."

"We can plan another trip," said Castiel. He'd already been tallying how soon he could afford another vacation for the two of them. A year seemed the most optimistic estimate; it had taken longer than that to save up for this one and he'd still had to use his credit card for a few things.

"Even if you do, you don't need to come back here," Dean said. Castiel felt the all too familiar sinking feeling that manifest to unpleasantly whenever Dean said something that reminded him of how delusional he was in his one-sided attraction. "You're virtually a pro already, Claire." She scoffed. "No, I'm serious. You took to this like a fish to water." Giggling at the pun, Claire closed to the space between them, threw her arms around Dean and gave him a big hug.

"Thank you," she whispered in what Castiel knew was her most sincere, heartfelt tone. A gentle arm wrapped around Claire's shoulders and Dean looked down at her tenderly, looked up at Castiel blushing.

"Sorry, but we do have to go – we've got those tickets to the zoo for 4 pm," Castiel said reluctantly. If he didn't leave now he knew he'd say something he'd regret. If he didn't make an ass of himself now, maybe he and Claire would be able to show themselves at ProTours again whenever they managed to returned to the Bahamas.

"Bye, Dean," she said wistfully, pulling away.

"It's been awesome, Claire," he replied.

Claire practically skipped to the door, pulling it open. A warm ocean breeze ghosted through as the door closed behind her.

"Hey, uh, Mr. Novak?" Dean said as soon as she was outside. Castiel's heart thumped so loudly he thought Dean must be able to hear the damn thing.

"Yes, Mr. Winchester?"

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" Dean stared at the boring blue carpet, toeing at a loose thread. Outside, Claire turned around, startled that Castiel wasn't right behind her.

"Um, sure?" Don't hope, don't hope, this is about Claire, this should be about Claire. He stuck his head out the door. "I'll be out in a moment, sweetie."

With a grin, she gave him a thumbs up. "Yes! Go get him, Dad!"

Crimson and hot, Castiel prayed that Dean hadn't heard her as he returned to the room, pulling the door shut.

"So, uh, I'm the owner of this company, you know?" Dean began hesitantly. Castiel nodded, though Dean was so intent on the ground that he doubted Dean noticed the gesture. "And I've got a few employees. Like, I even wrote a handbook." Wondering what the hell Dean was talking about, Castiel made a vague sound to show he was paying attention. Paying attention to what, exactly? "Anyway, I made up the rules, and it's my business, so, I mean, whatever I say, goes, but it seems only right that I follow the same guidelines as I make the people I hire sign off on." Dean paused, glanced up at him, looked away again.

"Of course, Mr. Winchester, that's very proper," said Castiel, every bit of how baffled he was evident in his voice.

"Dean! Call me Dean. One of the rules is about, uh...interactions...with our customers," Dean said in a rush. "And, you know, not having them."

"Interactions?"

"Fuck," muttered Dean, continuing at a more normal volume, "like, we can talk and stuff, even, like, say hi if we pass on the beach, but we can't...like...get dinner, or anything."

A whole slew of things he wanted to say flooded Castiel's mind, but every one was so twisted by his own desires he didn't dare say any of them aloud. Dean swallowed audibly, his Adam's apple bobbing, and he turned away, an indistinct swear word gusting from him.

I have to say something.

"This was our last lesson," said Castiel slowly. Don't hope, don't hope... "I'm not your customer any longer. I'm just Castiel."

"Exactly!" Dean exclaimed, rounding on him. "Exactly! So, now, we could, you know, interact...get dinner, or...or...or something."

"Are you suggesting you'd like to get dinner with me?" Castiel felt numb. This couldn't be real.

"Hey, Cas, I understand that, as a single dad, Claire is your priority, and I think that's awesome, by the way, but, like, um...well, there's this magician at the resort tonight, he does a show for kids, she's old enough to go alone, young enough to still think it's cool, I mean, if she likes that kind of thing, I don't know her well enough to really say, but—"

It was too much, it was all too much, Dean was too adorably flustered, Castiel's heart was racing too fast, he couldn't stand to hear another word. Closing the space between them, Castiel threw his arms around Dean's shoulders and shut him up with the most awkward, spontaneous kiss Castiel had ever given anyone. Dean's lips were surprisingly soft, delicate, and he didn't reciprocate at first. Terrified he'd gone astray – don't hope, don't hope, God I'm screwing this up, what would Gabe do? – he tried to pull away. Instantly, a strong arm wrapped around him, powerful fingers enclosed the back of Castiel's head and held him in place, and Dean's tongue licked insistently at Castiel's lips. Castiel couldn't but moan softly in his throat as Dean kissed him back thoroughly, pressed their bodies together until Castiel could feel every hard plane barely softened by the slick suit. Dean growled, sound rolling through his chest and buzzing drunkenly through Castiel's head as Castiel trailed his hands Dean's back and wrapped them suggestively against that gorgeous, firm ass.

Outside, Claire cheered mortifyingly loudly.


Every inch of Dean's body was tanned, and he had freckles everywhere.

"A year," panted Castiel.

Dean's apartment was modest but pleasant, an open, airy studio above his place of business. Wonderful breezes brought the smell of sand and surf from outside, where a stunning sunset was finally fading over the horizon above the endless miles of ocean to the west.

"Too long," snapped Dean. He groaned brokenly as Castiel shifted into a more comfortable position.

Spread on a forest green bedspread that made Dean's eyes seem to glow as brightly green as the tropical foliage of the island, Castiel had a raking view of muscled, tan chest, flesh beaded with sweat, nipples teased taut and dark by Castiel's hand and mouth.

"Not willing to wait for me?" Castiel smiled.

Dean's bed was the perfect height for Castiel to stand beside it, to nestle between Dean's legs and fill him completely. That perfect ass was as tight as Dean's amazing musculature had made Castiel think it would be, wet from the extended prep Castiel had indulged in, achingly hot enveloping Castiel's cock. Waiting for Dean to stretch and relax around him was driving him crazy. He'd been celibate for two years, alone since...

...it's okay. I know Gabe wouldn't mind. I know he would never have minded. He told me to find someone else, I was the one too sad and too stubborn and too guilty to listen.

Rolling his hips experimentally, Castiel groaned. Too tight, still too tight, and absolutely glorious.

"Are you insane?" Dean gasped. There was that oh-so-familiar sinking feeling. "Of course I'd wait, Cas. Fuck, you're hot...and smart...and funny...and seriously, fucking gorgeous..."

Can't wait, can't wait, God, I can hope, I can hope again and it feels so good. Gently, Castiel pulled back, nudged back in. Dean's legs, wrapped securely around Castiel's hips, tightened and tried to pull him in harder. The taut ring of Dean's muscles applied ideal pressure along Castiel's length and his restraint snapped. He drew away and snapped his hips forward hard, glorious pleasure suffusing every inch of his body. Dean's hands scrambled at Castiel's hips, Castiel wrapped one of his around Dean's side, the other around Dean's cock, and started a hard thrusting rhythm, stroking Dean in tempo. His eyes blinked wildly, his heart and breaths synced to the slap of his skin against Dean's thighs, his balls against Dean's ass, his cock sinking deep into Dean's wonderful hole.

"Six months," Castiel breathed. Dean whimpered his approval, head straining against the mattress, back arching to change the position of his channel compared to the angle of Castiel's thrusts. Muscles clenched around him for a moment, a spurt of pre-release further wet Castiel's lube-covered grip, and Castiel groaned out, "we can come back in six months, Dean."

"Oh yeah," moaned Dean. "Just like that, that'd be great."

Castiel chose to interpret that as referring to his travel plans, but nonetheless he leaned forward, stroked Dean more insistently, thrust into him harder. Letting his eyes slip shut, he allowed bliss to envelope him, lose himself in every sensation. Dean made increasingly delicious sounds, inarticulate pleasure tangled with heavy breathing. Sweat beaded down Castiel's spine, a cool wind soothed his burning skin, and his cock throbbed with increasing urgency as he edged towards his orgasm.

"Four months!" gasped Castiel.

"Fuck, Cas!"

"Dean, I'm going to—"

"Me too, me too, don't stop, fuck, please don't stop!"

With a groan, Castiel buried himself deep and his senses blanked, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure that seared through him. His hips jerked roughly through his climax, his strokes faltered.

"Cas," moaned Dean. "Please, Cas!"

Panting hard, Castiel collapsed to his knees, pulling his cock out of Dean's ass, prompting the younger man to groan and make a sound that might have been a sob. Before upset words could accompany the distressed noises, Castiel blindly found Dean's cock, wrapped his lips around the leaking tip, and sucked him down hard.

"Castiel!" howled Dean, coming immediately into the sultry heat of Castiel's mouth. Semen that tasted eerily similar to the bitter salt water of the perfect blue ocean outside splashed over Castiel's tongue, and he swallowed it eagerly as Dean moaned and bucked through his climax.

Neither moved for several moments, then Dean's legs collapsed limply to either side of Castiel's body, and Castiel dragged himself onto the bed. Moving was suddenly incredibly difficult, his body lethargic with fatigue, his mind thick with pleasure and wonder. The bed bounced as he settled beside Dean, and he opened his eyes as Dean rolled over to stare at him in wonder. Clear green eyes, wide and bright and unfocused with pleasure and release, gazed out of that stunning, youthful face, smooth cheeked, clean shaven, tanned and freckled.

"You're beautiful," Castiel whispered. There was no part of him that could believe he'd just had a wonderful date with this stunning man, had gotten the chance to make love to him, that Dean might actually wait on the hope that Castiel would return to the Bahamas.

I have to come back. Claire wants to do more scuba diving.

Dean snuggled close to him, kissed him tenderly, never broke their shared gaze. "Your eyes, Cas...like the fucking ocean...I've been trying not to stare at them for two damn weeks."

"Three months," whispered Castiel, wrapping his arms around Dean. "I'll be back in three months."

"I know you will," Dean mouthed against his skin. "Claire already made me schedule her follow up lessons. We get pretty busy in the summer, you know, gotta book in advance."

Laughing helplessly, Castiel held him close, buried his nose in brown hair that smelled like salt and sand and island breezes, and began considering just how hard it would be to permanently relocate to the Bahamas.


Endnote:

...alright, opinions, is Gabe/Cas weird? I felt kind of weird writing it, when I don't feel weird writing, say, Michael/Cas...but I really wanted to have Cas' past relationship be with someone whom I don't usually write as being terrible to him. Like, every time I've written Michael/Cas, Michael is horrible and abusive; and I've never written Balthazar/Cas but when I've read it, it's often not healthy either. I wanted someone I don't associate with badness in relationships with Cas. What do y'all think?

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