Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. A. N. Today's prompt was "Iconic/fav's lines" and...well, the show is an abundance of riches, but I zeroed on fun Destiel because I needed a palate cleanser. And this Dean, like the canon one, doesn't appreciate a certain fanfic pairing, but you know I'm on the other side of the fence. No insult meant, or I'd be insulting me too. It's also "Read a Book Day", so, well, the mind went to the Winchester Gospels and their natural byproduct. And yes, the title is a Dante quote because I can and have no shame. Hope you enjoy!

Galeotto fu

Dean is never, ever going to admit that he reads fanfics. About himself, even. I mean, that's gotta be the height of pathetic.

In fact, if anyone insinuated, he'd probably beat them up on principle. Especially because – fanfic is quite vague. And his first experience with the genre was traumatic. Like, incest? Seriously? That what they think of him? Sure, he has his flaws, but – ugh.

But then there was Marie, and Dean actually counted on her forgetting her plans. Teenager, involved in actual supernatural shenanigans. That should be enough to cure anyone of liking Chuck's series, in his opinion. (He's still half spooked and slightly horrified that the books are out there at all. Their life. Who would want to read that mess?) But she promised, and he's actually got a mail from her, with a curated rec list. At least, strictly Destiel, since apparently he's shown his hand.

By now, he has favorite authors, tropes he actually looks for (and some he actively avoids, because even in the field of his secret wish fulfillment, things can get weird sometimes), and he's more than happy to let Sam believe he's actually been on a porn site when instead he's been browsing. Possibly even browsing fluff, because - damn. The smut is nice, of course. But the happy-domestic-the greatest problem is which snack to pick for movie night ones might as well be cocaine, as far as he's concerned. Terribly addictive, makes you euphoric, and then you're back to miserable. It's not even that he goes back to an apocalypse (eventually, there seems to always be another apocalypse, or its equivalent). Even when they're okay, nothing worse than a salt-and-burn in their sights, it's the distinct lack of adorable boyfriend-Cas that hurts in ways he could never confess.

Still, besides his own disappointment at reality, there shouldn't be any problem, right? He's entitled to his own reading material. With all these people out there being way too invested in his actual life (a whole book series), well. If a few make him happy by reflex, maybe he can consider it his own share of...something. Not like Chuck ever offered to give them their quota of the rights or anything, and they should have some sort of compensation, surely.

Then shit hits the fan. Because of course it does. Sam's looking for a new case, and he's locked himself in his room with the laptop and a warning to knock, which his brother will surely abide. He's 30k words deep into an awesome coffee shop AU, when suddenly there's a flutter of wings.

Oh God. Dean slammed the laptop closed, just in time for Castiel to appear.

"Why are you nervous?" the angel asked. "You weren't sleeping."

"Just – privacy, buddy. You have no idea what I was actually doing." And wouldn't, if he had anything to say about it. "That's why we have doors and all."

"If you prefer I leave..."

"No! That's not what I said, Cas, damn, just – sometimes it'd be nice to have more than 2 seconds of warning. Why are you here, anyway?" He got up. Yep, moving. That'd help. And if he gravitated towards Cas...well, that really couldn't be helped. Maybe it was the bond, whatever that was supposed to mean.

"I was wondering if I might be of use."

"Always." It slips out before Dean realizes they don't have a case at present. "I mean, not for a job, we're kinda in-between, but – I'd appreciate the company. At least, you don't complain half as much as Sam does when I pick a movie." Maybe they can hole up in his cave and – no, it's not going to end like that story he's read the other week, but it's Cas. Dean's gonna love it anyway.

"Of course," Cas says, and – opens the laptop. Ok, yes, they could watch something there, but... the chairs aren't that comfortable, and surely they can't settle on the bed, nevermind that Dean picked one that'd fit two people nicely, and... He's so shocked by "what the hell are Cas' plans" that he forgets what he was actually doing 5 seconds ago until the thing boots. And Cas is staring at a wall of text. A wall of Destiel text.

Dean does the only thing he can think of. He runs.

A brother barrelling through the bunker as if hellhounds had broken in distracts Sam from his research. It'd be worrying if it didn't. "Dean?" One word that says a lot of things. "What happened?", "Whose fault it is?". and "What do I need to kill whatever got you in this state?" among the main.

Well, Dean has to stop, if only to ensure that Sam won't do anything rash. That's usually him, true, but his sibling has his own moments of idiocy. He actually takes a breath, and then... "I've gotta move out." Oh. He didn't mean to say that. And it's not helping, because – okay, he might be untraceable by angelic means (thanks to Cas), but it's not like there's anywhere he could hide forever, either. And Cas has all the time in the world. He'll have to face him, some day.

But Sam's smiling, and asks, "Did you break the bunker?", sounding slightly impressed. Ok, that would be a fuck-up of major proportions, even for him, but it pales in comparison with the present.

"Less talking, more moving," he grumbles, and his brother falls in step with him, but – obviously – doesn't let it go. He should have let him take the dog-speech potion, back then. Sam's stubbornness is eminently canine.

"Seriously, what's the problem?"

Knowing full well that he has to answer Sam, especially if he wants his help with...well, what is he going to do? Dean manages to grind out, "Destiel."

Sam sighs and stops. "Just ignore it. Really, what's your problem?"

"No, I. Read. Cas. There." He's barely making sense to himself, so he expects Sam to be confused. He should have known that his brother has decades of experience in Dean-speak.

"Wait. Cas caught you reading Destiel?" That's the grin of someone who just got free ammunition for a lifetime of teasing, but what can Dean do? If he wants to be out stat (what is Cas doing?), he doesn't have time to argue with Sam. He nods tightly.

Of all the things, his sibling's laugh isn't what he expected. "Really, Dean?"

"It was an accident." He tries to keep walking, but speaking of that...he walked into that one.

"Accidents don't happen accidentally." Leave it to Sam to remember every absurdity he's said in his life. "Besides, don't you remember? It was on the news."

"What?"

"He's utterly indifferent to sexual orientation." The frigging Sasquatch manhandles him to turn around – only because he's too shocked to fight, obviously. "Now go back and actually behave like the adult you can be. You'll thank me later."

With one retreat closed...well, he could hide somewhere, or find another way to the garage (the bunker is a maze), but mostly, he's growing worried. What is Cas doing? Did he leave, maybe forever? Is he planning Dean's murder?

He doesn't expect to find Cas at the seat he himself had vacated not so long ago...reading? Is he reading that fic? No matter how quiet he's tried to be, opening the door just a crack, he doesn't go unnoticed.

Cas turns to him, pointing at the screen. "I...wanted to understand."

Dean chokes. Give him a pack of werewolves any day, but what is he supposed to do now?

"Do you like this?"

He actually flinches a little, because he can't say no, can he? It's bookmarked, for God's sake.

"Why haven't you asked, then?"

"Ok, what?" Indignation wins over awkwardness. "Like I haven't used my best lines on you, or - jeez, Cas, there's a reason we're a genre, basically, and they actually don't even know the latest..."

Cas raises a hand, and that stops his ranting. "Clearly I've missed some things. But - how did you miss that I always try to make you happy, as far as it's in my power?"

"Stay." Christ, why does Dean keep blurting things out today? "You don't even have to do anything, just...stay." He's so, so tired of people leaving him

"I will, as long as you want." A breath, and "And, uh...if you want to go for a coffee, sometimes, or -?"

Is he offering..what? "Like in..." Dean points at the screen.

Cas nods. "Well, I've not finished it, so I don't know what else you might want, but...maybe you could just tell me." He smiles, and damn. Probably Dean slipped and broke his neck. But if this is his heaven, he's gonna be pissed off when he's revived.

"Kissing on the table?" Might as well go for it.

Cas nods again, gently puts the laptop on the bed...then grabs Dean, deposits him on the table, and starts kissing him. He can't help laughing into it. He'll have to learn to communicate, yeah. But with the way Cas is cradling his head, tugging him softly closer, and...yeah. Awesome.