Hello everyone! I got this app a long time ago, but never had the courage to post any of my writing. This will be my first published fic. Nobody will probably read this, but if you do, thank you! Please feel free to leave a comment. I will update once a week most weeks. This will most likely be the only author's note, because I personally dislike them.
This story will probably only be a couple chapters. It's a fanfiction based off a tumblr post. The story is about Dean Winchester and Castiel and how they come to realize their not-so-platonic feelings. The title will make sense soon enough. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters involved in this story.
(I'm spending more time on this introduction then the story whoops)
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Castiel always thought of stars as one solid thing.
They were beautiful creations in the sky, and radiated light, much like an angel. They were one of Castiel's favorite things made by his father.
But upon crossing paths with humanity, that definition had changed.
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Dean Winchester was a complex human.
Each day, Cas would learn something new about him. With a soft smile, he would add that information to his pile of things he kept about Dean in the most intimate part of his mind.
Sometimes, he will catch Dean staring at the stars.
He'll stare at them through the window of the impala as he drives at night, or when he awakens in the early hours of the morning and steps outside to clear his head. There is always something akin to longing written in his face.
Sometimes, Cas will catch Dean staring at him like that.
His breathing hitches and his heart flutters more quickly in his chest when that happens.
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"You love the stars." Cas notes one day.
Dean looks to Castiel. Cas can see just how deep his soul goes, and how impossibly bright it continues to shine even when in pain. He knew that soul well. In fact, he had rescued that soul. Rebuilt it. Dean's humane, innocent soul.
It was the soul he had fallen in love with.
Dean gave a self-depreciating laugh. That was something Cas hated. The way Dean felt about himself. As if he didn't matter, as if he was worthless. Which was completely untrue, Castiel thought.
"Does it matter?" Dean mumbles.
