[A collection of AU drabbles written from Dean's P.O.V.]
Blindfold.
It's soft, a tender touch of Castiel's mouth against his own. But the fact that Cas hasn't removed the blindfold the Dean teasingly placed over his eyes means so much more. The fact that Cas lets Dean hold him just so, lets him search out his skin, encourageshim to press closer, with little noises which are anything butangelic, well, it means a lot more than Dean knows how to express for now.
"Dean," Castiel whispers against his lips, breath hot and wet, "What is the point of this 'blind…fold'?"
Dean almost laughs, but chooses to trail his hands lower, hitch the angels hips up and press him close, close enough to hear his heartbeat. "It's a relic left over from the ninjas," He spills, eyes crinkling as Cas tilts his head. It's a little less effective without the blue eyes, but it still gets the 'What on earth are you on about,' across.
"I believe you are incorrect," Castiel's tongue darts out and swipes across his lips.
"Shh," Dean searches his mind, looking for any other answer, and his lips automatically quirk when he comes across one. "It's so you can't look at me when I do thinks like this."
He presses a soft, lingering kiss against chapped lips, "Or this," One hand trails down Cas's cheek and lifts his jaw so their mouths meet once more.
"It's so you can just feel," Dean blurts, and screw it if this is a chick flick moment, cause right now, he kinda means every word.
"Oh," Castiel whispers wetly, "Okay."
And that's it. Okay. If he'd known that blindfolding his angel and spinning words would make him this pliant, he would have tried it ages ago.
But maybe this is more fun.
2. Simple.
Dean can feel his grace surrounding him, the sheeted trench coat a barrier against the outside world, at least for now. His hands tighten against the material reflexively, and he pulls closer, close enough to feel his heartbeat, to share his heat. Dean doesn't think he's ever been this comfortable in his life. Of course, he's never had the chance. It's not often that he gets to lean on somebody other than himself. It's not ever, actually.
The world narrows down to two arms around him, and soft words spilling from the man he's never seen before in his life, but just stood there on the street, a calm smile and blue eyes beckoning, the shadowy imprint of his wings around him.
Mom always used to say 'You've got an angel looking out for you Dean,' before she left, and he didn't believe it then, almost doesn't believe it now. But it's enough. Perhaps he's dreaming, he must be sleeping. He wouldn't usually let down his guard for this. It's 'protect Sammy, patch up dad, save people,' over and over in his head, an ever repeating drumming beat every waking hour, so Dean reasons, he must be unconscious.
The comfort of a hug, the protection of wings around him. It's the best dream Dean's ever had.
Well, at least, it's a nice change from the nightmares.
3. Forgiveness.
He looks like an angel. Which is funny, because Dean's never thought about it that way, but Cas is,he's an angel. And Dean doesn't know why it hits now, but all he wants to do is collapse and utter one of the only sorry's he's ever let fall past his lips in his entire life. Sorry he didn't believe him, sorry he turned away. Sorry he never listened.
He settles for "Cas."
Castiel smiles, that little quirk of lips, his eyes are exactly the same shade of blue they've always been, but today, they shine. Brighter than anything. Dean doesn't know why that makes him feel so grateful, but between that and the hand that Cas runs through his hair, settles on his cheek, and the fact that he hasn't spat in Dean's face and turned him away, he knows it's okay.
Well, that's something.
No, that's everything.