Hello!
So I saw this post in a Destiel Facebook page, and it had a glorious prompt and i couldn't help myself...
I altered some things, and most of you will probably be angry with me...but it's just the way it lead. And I can't change how it feels. The story wants what the story wants. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are mine, for i do not own them. Also, the prompt isn't mine either.

I also apologise for misspelled things, I typed this on my phone... xD

(Follow me on tumblr! Notepads-and-clocks )

Cheap motels smell like old beer. No matter which one you go to, no matter where it is or how much it was. It's like they wash the ratty, vintage carpets with it.

Beer is also the one thing Dean sent Cas out for exactly 47 minutes ago..48. Not that he's counting. He only cares about the beer.

Sam was laying on the tiny couch near the tv, scrolling through something not interesting on his laptop. Sprawled out on his bed, Dean flipped through an old car magazine, thinking about plans for their hunt. They were up against a Siren, and according to the picture Sam showed him earlier, their true forms aren't as hot as they're cracked up to be.

Just as he was about to mark and hour and one minute of Cas' absence, the doorknob wriggled and Cas casually walked in..-

Empty Handed.

"Are you serious? Dude, again? Sam, i can't believe he forgot the-". What the fuck?

Sam gazed longingly at Castiel, he face torn with what Dean would call pure sadness. His eyes were wide and he looked as if he wasn't breathing. The look shattered dean's heart, but...why was he looking at Cas that way?

"Je-Jess? What- how are you standin- why are you here- I?" Tear started to stream down His face as he moved his laptop out of the way and stood up.

"Dude what are you even saying?" Dean was so confused. Why did Sam even think Jess was...ahh, shit. He may be pretty, but he's not stupid.

"Damn, Sam, it's the Siren!" Sure enough, Sam turned his head to see them all standing in the large mirror hanging on the dirty wall, seeing the true form of the monster.

"Dean, the dagger!" The bronze dagger, the only thing that could kill the not-Cas/Jess, was on the end table by the kitchen. By the time Dean located it, the Siren was already running at him at full speed. Diving for the table and grabbing the knife, he turned just in time for the thing to run right into it.

Getting up, Dean looked at Sam, who no longer seemed fazed by seeing Jess, but more or less confused.

"Dean, i don't understand. I saw Jess because she was the love of my life...but you say Cas. Dean, do you-"

"Sam! No! What- what, that's crazy, that isn't even a thing. I like chicks, you know this. It was just playing with my head, you know, because Cas is a good buddy."

"No, shithead, that's not how Sirens work. They turn into one you love romantically. One you lust for. So that means you gotta like-"

"Gotta like who?" both Dean and sam whipped around to see the real Castiel standing in front of the door, holding a pack of beer. His head was slightly tilted to the side, and Sam didn't know if it was because he was curious about what he and Dean were talking about, or why there was a dead body on the floor.

"What, no, Cas I don't like anybo-"

"And why is there a dead clone of you laying on the floor?"

Sam choked a little and Dean thought he was gonna faint.

"Wait, Cas you see Dean? Really? Damn, what a small world…"

"I don't understand, am I not supposed to see him? What is it, Dean?"

Dean was speechless. He knew he liked Cas, and wasn't going to say anything, but now Cas admits he sees Dean as the siren? This is his chance…

"Uh, man, that's the Siren...and you see me because-"

"Because I'm in love with you, yes. It makes sense now."

Sam inhaled, which made everything worse, because it felt like Dean was in a goddamn chick flick. Side glancing daggers at Sam, Dean stepped closer to Cas.

"And, actually, Cas...I see you..as the siren. I love you."

"Dean.." Castiel started to lean in, closer to Dean, and fluttering his eyes closed slowly, he waited for Cas' oh-so-pink lips to touch his…

But they never came. Opening his eyes, Dean found himself laying back in his bed, his magazine spread out across his chest. He sat up and Sam was still sitting on the couch, eyes glued to his screen. A pack of beer was sitting on the lamp stand next to Dean's bed, and the mattress across from him was occupied by a sleeping ex angel.

Dean had fallen asleep waiting. It was all a dream. A dream that Dean longed to come true...