A short Destiel fic for getting thirty author alerts. Thanks to all who do!


Dean snored softly on the couch, one hand cradling his head, the other laid gently over his stomach. He looked peaceful. He looked young. He looked like a completely different person.

Everyone, with the exception of Castiel, was asleep. Dreaming nice dreams, getting a good 4-hour rest so they'd be ready for the day to come.

Castiel looked down at Dean, studying the hunter's face, memorizing every freckle, every eyelash, every line. He always did it when Dean was asleep; he wanted to be able to remember it for many years to come, in case he may not have it by his side any longer.

Cas loved Dean. He would never tell him, for he was sure Dean would ridicule him, ignore him, or worse, leave him. Cas did not want that to happen, and even with the slight possibility that Dean loved Cas back, he was not going to throw it all away to see if that were true.

Cas was very close to Dean's face now, only a centimeter of space between their noses. Cas breathed in Dean's scent, a mix of old sweat, stale beer, and an odor Cas couldn't quite place. The only name that seemed to fit it was "Dean Smell," which Cas could always taste on the air when Dean was in the immediate vicinity.

67. That's how many freckles Dean had. Cas had the number memorized, and had he known what a lucky number was, that would be his. When he was alone, like when he flew through the sky, he would count to that number, again and again. It made him feel less lonely. It made it feel like Dean was there with him.

Dean looked down to Dean's lips, slightly chapped but still very, very kissable. Cas leaned slowly down to them, careful as to not wake Dean. It would be awful if he woke and found Cas in this very arresting position. But Cas so wanted to kiss Dean, to feel the hunter's lips against his vessel's. It didn't help that Dean was in such an agreeable state of unconsciousness, knowing that if Cas did kiss him, he would never know.

Should Castiel kiss him? The angel wasn't sure. It would certainly make things different on his end.

But Dean would never know...

It couldn't hurt, could it?

Cas finally made up his mind and gingerly kissed Dean, only keeping physical contact with the human for a few moments. But those few moments would be the most precious seconds Castiel had ever spent in his entire existence. Just the tingling around his vessel's lips were enough to statisfy him for eternity. But the way his Grace wrapped around itself, ringing loud with great, powerful, joy that he was sure his Brothers, Sisters, and even Father could hear easily. His wings curled around Dean, cradling the hunter and protecting him from all harm. He stayed in this position for quite a while, until he heard quiet steps from upstairs creeping through the house. Cas dropped his wings down from Dean and spread them out wide behind him. Another second later, he was gone, flying on the west wind far above face of the Earth.

Little did Castiel know that the second after he flew off, Dean's lips had curled into a soft, sweet, smile, one that was very unusual to find on such a battle-worn face. Whether the smile had been made consciously or sub-consciously, only Castiel's Father would know. What was greatly obvious, though, was that it was the outcome of Castiel's presentation of love.