Title: Discovering Destiel

Pairing: Dean/ Castiel

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4,500

Summary: Castiel discovers Destiel fan fiction and believes the writers are correct. Now he must convince Dean.

Author's Notes: This, this is really meta. But, it was a lot of fun to write, and it's also a trilogy, so keep an eye out for the following stories.

"Dude!" Sam exclaimed from his computer. "Dude! Check this out!" Sam was grinning like an idiot, full of glee, and gesturing wildly for Dean to come look at something he'd found on the internet. Dean got his hopes up, thinking it had to be something to help them figure out the stupid apocalypse thing to have Sam quite so excited.

Dean went over the Sam, looked over his shoulder at the computer, and then instantly pulled back, cringing at the website Sam had open.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing on those Supernatural fan sites?"

"Look, I had this idea. Chuck's been putting out more books online, covering the apocalypse storyline, and he's almost completely caught up with us."

"Get to the point, Sammy."

"The point is, on the fan sites, there are forums where all the fans discuss their predictions about the next books. I thought they might have some good ideas that we would never think of. You know, since they're outside of it and not ridden by the pressure of having to save the world."

"OK. So, did you find anything good?"

"Well, no. Not yet. Most of them are still writing nasty Wincest and think that'll save the world somehow. But I did find something way, way more entertaining," Sam grinned impishly, clicked on a link and turned the computer back to Dean for him to have a look.

"'Raised from Perdition: A Destiel Fan Site.' Who's Destiel? Some other dick angel we get to wrestle with?"

"Scroll down further," Sam said, barely able to contain his laughter.

Dean rolled his eyes and did as told, scrolling further down the front page to see a drawing of two men tangled in white sheets on a bed, eyes shut in what was clearly post-coital ecstasy. He was about to snap at Sam about being gay, when something struck him about the man on top. He had an anti-possession tattoo on his chest, a golden pendent around his neck, a silver ring on his right hand, and most damning of all, a burning red hand print scarred onto his shoulder. The other man had pearly white wings and a very familiar crop of brown bed-head hair.

"Destiel? Destiel? Dean and Castiel? What the Hell is wrong with these people?"

Sam had fallen out of his chair from laughing so hard as Dean's realization slowly dawned on him and then the horror awoke in his eyes shortly afterwards. "At least," he gasped between breaths as he tried to stop laughing. "At least it isn't incest anymore."

"Oh, like that wasn't taboo enough? Now they want me screwing an angel of the Lord? Those girls are going to Hell."

"Hey, I can't blame them. You two really do have some serious UST."

"What the Hell is UST? No. I don't want to know… Just tell me."

"Unresolved sexual tension."

"Dude, that's gross!"

"I read an essay about it this morning. Very convincing. Eye sex. Personal space. Your profound bond. Are you sure you two haven't already consummated your love without telling me? You don't have to be afraid, Dean. I'll accept you for who you are."

"Blow me, Sam."

"I think I'll leave that to Cas."

Out of words to continue the battle with his all too gleeful younger brother, Dean had nothing else to resort to, and turned on him, wrestling him to the ground and punching him, just to get him to shut up and stop giggling. The two wrangled on the floor for a good long time, leaving each other bruised and panting before Dean was satisfied that Sam had learned his lesson.

Unseen, hovering just around the ceiling of the room was Castiel, who had been witness to the entire scene, starting with when Sam had called Dean over to look at his computer.

Castiel did not know a lot about computers, though he was impressed by the invention itself, created and improved constantly by humans over the last few decades. Having no celestial power, it was an amazing tool for humans to access the knowledge of the world.

The night of the incident between Dean and Sam, after the two of them had fallen asleep, Castiel appeared in their room and slid Sam's laptop out of his leather satchel. Castiel was grateful for his fascination with the machine, as it had led to him watching Sam carefully as he used the tool. He had no trouble opening it to reveal the screen and keyboard, nor any trouble waking the machine up. He was even familiar with the little pictures on the bottom of the screen, and which one to click on to get him to the internet. But when it got to a simple white website that merely said the nonsense word "Google," he wasn't sure what to do next.

He stared at the website, his eyes focusing on the tiny vertical line blinking in a small white box. He looked at the keyboard, with its little printed capital letters that would allow him to make words. Unsure what the result would be, he started pecking a few keys very slowly, making sure he had the order right. When he looked back up at the screen, he was delighted to see that the word "destiel" had appeared in the little white box.

Castiel waited, but nothing happened. His eyes scanned the website again and found below the white box, another box that said "Search." That seemed like a good idea, so Castiel clicked on that button, waited half a second, and then his eyes went wide as the website burst forth with a long list of links with his and Dean's name on them. And there were some pictures, too.

Eyes glued to the screen, Castiel sat before Sam's computer for hours, the only sound being the quite tap of his finger against the touchpad.

The next morning, when Sam and Dean woke up, Sam was annoyed that the battery on his computer was completely drained, and accused Dean of searching for porn all night, despite his genuine denials. Sam didn't believe him and plugged the computer in to charge while he went to brush his teeth and shower.

As soon as Sam stepped into the bathroom, Castiel appeared standing right in front of Dean.

Dean took a step back and glared at Castiel for invading his personal space, and then told him a gruff 'good morning,' he voice still rough with sleep. Sam gave him a toothpaste-filled 'hello' as well.

"Dean, we need to talk," Castiel said, his voice sounding even more serious than usual.

"Sure, go ahead," Dean said, pulling off the t-shirt he'd slept in, and smelling the others in his duffel bag to find one that was relatively clean.

"Last night I used the internet to read Destiel fan fiction."

Dean froze, his hand clamped around a t-shirt that had passed the sniff test, and was then being subjected to the stain once over. He looked up at Castiel, words caught in his throat as the horror of his discovery the day before came back to life, now worse than before.

"I think those authors might be correct," Castiel continued when Dean still hadn't said anything.

"SAAAAM!" Dean suddenly bellowed, turning around to the open bathroom door where Sam had paused in brushing his teeth, also frozen by Castiel's words. But when he heard Dean's yell he very quickly closed the door, locked it, and then turned on the shower.

"Sorry! Can't hear you! Shower's running!" Sam called out through the door.

"Coward…" Dean murmured to himself, knowing he was going to make Sam pay for this whole damn disaster that was about to strike their motel room. Slowly, he turned back to Castiel, who was looking at him with an expectant look in his eyes.

"OK," Dean said, rubbing his face hard. "Let's get one thing straight. Those authors? Are crazy, sex-deprived, delusional virgins with way too much free time."

"But they-"

"Let me finish. These are the same people who think me and Sam are going at it like wild dingoes, despite the fact that we. Are. Brothers."

"Yes, but-"

"Not done yet. So these authors, having nothing but Chuck's terrible hack writing to go on, and having never met you or me in their entire lives, are trying to say that I am secretly in love with an angel of the Lord and want to bang his brains out without realizing it? You really think this might be correct?"

"Of course not. Their blatant disregard for your past history of hetero-normative sexual practices with multiple women is baffling."

"See? Now let's just forget about this whole "Destiel" garbage and move on with our lives."

"But I was referring to myself when I said they were correct."

"Huh?" Dean said.

"Many of the authors predict that our profound bond may be my way of expressing romantic love, an emotion I have never experienced before. It explains my desire to be closer to you than I am with Sam, my inability to resist when you pray to me, even though Sam is much more polite, the intense fascination I have that results in staring at you, and the happiness I feel when you are close to me. It seems that through Chuck's inept writing, these authors have discovered meaning behind my actions that even I was unaware of."

"Cas. Really, I don't think you should be listening to some crazy girls-"

"Shut up, Dean. I am not finished speaking."

Dean shut up, swallowing hard at Castiel's stern voice.

"I am in love with you, Dean Winchester. I want to spend time with you. I want to talk with you. I want to be close to you. I want to touch you."

"Cas…"

"I am still not finished. I understand from the fan fiction that you will be reluctant to respond to my romantic advances. So I will give you time to think about what I've said. I will not bother you until then."

Castiel left as soon as he said those words, disappearing in the blink of an eye with the faint sound of fluttering wings seeing him off. Dean was frozen in place for a moment, and then he dashed over to the bathroom door, banging on it fiercely.

"Sam! I am going to kill you! I am going to kill you so much!"

"Shower's still running. Lala. Can't hear you. Be out in a few hours…" Sam sang back through the door.

Two days passed with no sign of Castiel, which had Dean both relieved and concerned. Sam had at least finally gotten over his giggles about Castiel's love confession and was taking the ramifications more seriously. Especially since Dean punched him in the arm every time he so much as smiled.

"So…" Sam started as they sat in their motel room the evening of the second day.

"Shut up," Dean said, not turning his attention away from the TV.

"We need to talk about this," Sam said.

"No, we don't."

"Yes. We do," Sam said, exasperated already. "Cas isn't coming back until you… you know…"

"Say 'I love you too, pookie. Let's get our hot gay man love on in the Impala'? That's not gonna happen, Sammy."

"You don't have to say you love him, but you do need to give him some kind of answer."

"Personally, I prefer ignoring the entire situation until we're ass deep in demons, and then Cas has to come back and save us. Then I'm just going to pretend the whole thing never happened and we can just be friends again."

"Dean," Sam said, the one word emphasized by what Dean called his 'bitchface.'

"Sam," Dean said right back him, imitating the tone and bitchface perfectly.

"Fine. If you won't call him, I will. Cas!" Sam suddenly called out, his eyes turned to the ceiling. "Cas, you need to get down here. Dean wants to talk to you!"

"Shh! Sam, shut up!" Dean said, rising from his seat in a panic and rushing to Sam, hoping to shut him up. Sam kept out of reach, still calling Castiel's name, until Dean tackled him to the floor and found a dirty sock to shove in his mouth while he held him down. He kept his eyes darting around the room in case the angel made his appearance.

After a few minutes, with Castiel still not showing up, Dean got off his brother, and let him stand again. Sam spat out the sock and looked as indignant as possible, though he was also disappointed that Castiel hadn't shown up.

"Nice try, bitch."

"Whatever, jerk. I'm going out. Maybe Cas will show up after I leave," he said, throwing a prayer in for good measure to let Cas know he'd be out of the room.

Sam stormed out of the motel room, annoyed by his stubborn, emotionally stunted brother, turned the corner around the motel that would take him to the main drag, and walked right into Castiel.

"Hello, Sam."

"Cas," Sam said with a smile. "You came."

"Yes. I heard your prayer, but thought it was best not to appear before Dean."

"Yeah. He still doesn't want to talk about it."

"That's all right. I wanted to talk to you anyway. In the fan fiction, you always give good advice about Dean."

"Cas," Sam said with a sigh. "You're taking this fan fiction stuff pretty seriously, but, you know, it's not real."

"I am aware," Castiel said, looking just a little bit annoyed. "If I thought all of it was real, then I would expect Dean to jump into my arms fully erect after a short bout of 'eye sex.' But some authors have grasped a genuine understanding of our personalities and come up with reasonable reactions to non-existent scenarios based on previous knowledge. Ergo, I do not think it is too hard to believe that you, his own brother, could give me good advice about Dean."

"Well, OK, that part would be true…" Sam conceded, his mind still stuttering around the image of Dean jumping into Castiel's arms. "But Dean's straight, Cas. No matter what the fan girls imagine."

"That does seem to be a significant roadblock in reality. Are you sure Dean has not engaged in any bi-curious activities in the past that he might have kept secret from you out of embarrassment and perceived reprisal from his father?"

"Uhm, yes. Pretty sure."

"I was hoping for that to be an unusually perceptive insight into his character," Castiel murmured to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing," Castiel said quickly. "But that brings me to another problem of whether my love will be returned, or unrequited. I am not so certain that Dean's feelings for me are more than just friendship and brotherhood."

"I'm not sure either," Sam said. "I mean, yeah, you two stare at each other a lot, and that profound bond thing you mentioned once. But I'm not sure if that leads to, uh, you know… Gay sex and stuff," Sam mumbled out, blushing with embarrassment.

Castiel also blushed brightly, and started giving the asphalt of the parking lot the sort of intense stare he usually reserved for Dean. "Though the fan fiction covers that aspect of a relationship in great, explicit detail," Castiel said with a cough, rubbing the back of his neck. "I had not even considered that a possibility with Dean. The most I was hoping for was a date."

"A date? That's it? What about all that stuff you mentioned about touching and stuff?"

"I would like to hold hands on our date, if Dean will let me," Castiel said with a blush.

Sam was reminded of Castiel's innocence when it came to romantic relationships, relieved in some sense that the fan fiction hadn't made too big of an impression on him, and then also saddened by the small, simple thing that Castiel wanted in return for his love of Dean. The feeling burned as determination inside Sam, and he made the decision that he would help Castiel get his one date with Dean, maybe with hand holding, no matter what Dean had to say about the matter.

"Cas, I think if it's just one date, no promise on the hand holding, I might be able to help you out," Sam said, his mind already working on a scheme that would surely open his brother's forcefully shut eyes, and make him respond to Castiel in some fashion.

"Really?" Castiel asked, his eyes widening with hope behind them.

"Yes, now, here's my plan…"

A few days later, Sam and Dean were ass deep in demons. They'd been investigating a haunting in an old abandoned warehouse, only to discover that the haunting was a ruse created by a group of four demons who were in it for the kicks. Finding Sam and Dean in their midst, the brothers with a huge bounty on their heads, the demons squealed with delight and went right for a vicious attack, taking the Winchesters by complete surprise.

Lacking devil traps, holy water, or even Ruby's knife, and well out-muscled, the brothers made a mad dash through the warehouse, hoping to make It through the door and toward the precious supplies hidden away in the Impala's trunk. No such luck.

The bitchy looking female demon with the long blonde hair in a ponytail cut them off, and with a wave of her hand, sent them crashing through a metal shelf. The brothers collected themselves quickly and kept running.

"Over there!" Sam shouted, pointing to a half open door. The two dashed inside, slammed the door shut behind them, and threw down a line of salt to keep the demons from blowing the door down. They took in their surroundings and found they were in a small, windowless, office.

"Well, this is just great," Dean groused, his back still pushed against the door as he listened to the demons outside, shrieking and taunting them. The salt would keep them out, for sure, but how long could Dean and Sam stay inside?

"Cas! We could really use your help about now!" Dean yelled out, annoyed that he even had to call on the angel when he usually just appeared when they had demons on their tail. But there was no blinding light through the cracks in the door, and no agonized screams from the demons on the other side as the evil was burned out of them with holy fire.

"Cas! Four demons. About to kill us. We're in a tight spot man. What're you doing? Picking your nose up there?" Dean's eyes searched the ceiling as he yelled out for the angel, but still nothing happened.

"What gives?" he asked, looking to his brother, who was also looking at the ceiling, looking disappointed.

"Looks like we have to figure our own way out," Sam said, and started looking around the dusty office, checking a bookshelf covered in forgotten papers, shifting a chair around, and checking under a desk, desperate for anything.

"…ass deep in demons…" Sam could hear Dean muttering to himself, and he had to bite back a small grin. Things were a little too heavy at the moment. He stood up and shoved a metal filing cabinet away from the wall, and allowed himself a small smile of relief.

"Air vent," he said quietly to Dean, and Dean was on it. It was too small for Sam to fit through, but just big enough for Dean.

"I'll get the supplies from the Impala and be back in 5 minutes. Wait till you hear screaming before you break the line, OK Sammy?"

Sam nodded, and gave Dean a helpful shove into the vent. Mostly unnecessary, but it was also to make sure his hand was covering the angelic symbols carved into the side of the vent, one that would keep Dean invisible to the demons while he was inside it.

Ten minutes later the demons were exorcised, and four very confused people were heading back to their families, with complimentary anti-possession mojo bags around their necks as parting gifts from the Winchesters.

"What the Hell, dude?" Dean groused as he slammed the trunk of the Impala shut.

"What, what the Hell?" Sam asked.

"Cas. He never showed. He always shows when we're ass deep in demons."

"Well, yeah, but he's probably mad at you," Sam said. He got into the Impala and buckled in. Dean got in after him and gave him a confused look.

"What is he mad at me for?"

"Because he confessed his love to you and you haven't responded."

"Uh, yeah, because I don't love him."

"That doesn't matter. You still need to talk to him. He poured his heart out to you and he's waiting for an answer."

"Wait," Dean said, eyeing his brother suspiciously. "Have you talked to Cas since then?"

"Yes," Sam said, suddenly looking out the window and twisting a lock of his hair nervously.

"What'd he say?"

"Nothing, nothing really…" Sam said, still not looking at his brother.

"No, he told you something. What'd he tell you?"

"Just that he wants… Well, it doesn't matter. You'd never do it anyway, so forget it. Let's just go back to the motel," Sam said, turning back to his brother with a fake smile plastered on his face.

"Just tell me what he wants," Dean said gruffly, getting annoyed by Sam's roundabout conversation.

"A date, Dean. He just wants to go on a date."

"No way," Dean said quickly. He started the car and stared intently at the road as he drove them back to the motel.

"It's not like he's going to start groping you the second you get into the car," Sam said, exasperated.

"Gross. I don't even want to think about that."

"I'm just telling you what he told me. He wants to have a date. The very least you could do is call him and talk to him."

Dean grumbled, low and deep in his throat, a sneer curling his lip. "Fine," he growled. "But you are not getting a front row seat this time. When we get back to the motel, you go find some coffee shop to drink mocha-latte girl drinks in."

Sam sighed with relief and smiled genuinely for the rest of the car ride home.

Back at the motel room, Sam left Dean alone, giving him a double thumbs up as he ducked out the door, closing it quickly when Dean lobbed a boot at him. Dean sighed, rubbing his fingers hard over the bridge of his nose as he was certain he felt a headache coming on just from thinking about the conversation he was going to have with Castiel in just a moment.

"Cas," he said after a big sigh. "I hope you're not in trouble, wherever you are. Could you come talk for a minute?"

"I'm here, Dean," Castiel said from behind him. Dean turned around slowly to look at the angel, as usual in his oversized trench coat and rumpled suit. His hair disheveled, and his cheeks carrying a day's growth of beard.

"Why didn't you come earlier?"

"I assessed the situation from where I was, and deemed you and Sam were capable of handling the four demons alone," Castiel said. Of course, the only reason he was able to say that was because he'd covered the whole warehouse in sigils to help keep the Winchesters safe. Otherwise, he would have never left them so vulnerable. It was the only way he would agree to Sam's plan. "Also, I did not want to see you until we had discussed our previous topic of conversation."

Dean cursed in his head that Sam had been right about why Castiel hadn't shown. He was starting to wish Cas HAD been in trouble, instead of just, this. Dean sat down on the couch. He needed to sit down for this conversation. Castiel remained standing, looking at him intently.

"OK. Let's discuss our previous topic of discussion," Dean said wearily.

"Do you have a reply to my confession?"

Leave it to Castiel to get right down to the conversation, without any dancing around, when all Dean wanted to do was skirt around the topic, and stutter out some non-sense that no one would understand anyway.

"Yeah, I have a reply, but Cas, I don't think you're going to like it," Dean said, and knew immediately that he was right when Castiel's face fell a little bit, and disappointment filled his eyes.

"I suspected that you would not return my feelings, no matter how much time I gave you to think about it. But I was wondering if you would do me one favor," Castiel lifted his eyes again, and Dean saw a small glimmer of hope there. He tensed though, knowing exactly what Castiel was going to ask for, and now glad that Sam had given him a head's up about it before-hand.

"Yeah. I can do you a favor. What is it?"

"I would like to have a date with you."

"A date?" Dean asked, trying to act surprised when he heard Castiel's request.

"I promise I will not 'try anything,'" Castiel said, using finger quotes.

"Uhm, well, you better not. But a date? Cas, I don't feel that way about you."

"I know. But, I would like to experience a date with you just once, and then you can just forget the whole matter. I will never bring it up again."

"So, just a date? Like, dinner together?"

"And a movie," Castiel added quickly. "It is the American date standard."

"And no touching or… anything, right?"

"None! I promise," Castiel said, his eyes starting to light up with hope.

Dean looked warily at the angel standing before him, his eyes wide, innocent, and hopeful. He looked like a sad, hungry, lonely puppy, locked outside in the middle of a rainstorm, and Dean felt like he was in a position to either kick the puppy to the curb, or bring him inside.

"Fine," he said, like the word was dragged from his lips against his will. "But I'm driving. I pick the restaurant, and I pick the movie. Clear?"

"Oh yes, Dean," Castiel said, pleasure sweeping over his face when he heard Dean's acquiescence, even with its limitations. "Thank you. You have made me very happy. Can we go on our date tonight?"

"Yeah, sure," Dean said after a slight hesitation. "Better to get it over with, I guess."

"Yes. Oh, and one more thing?"

"What?"

"Can we hold hands on our date?"

"Dude," Dean glared at him. "If you're going to be gay about this, the date is totally off."

"OK," Castiel said, but his face didn't darken even in the slightest. He was going on a real, live date with the man he loved. He was the happiest angel in all of creation.

The End