Title: The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (2/?)
Author: craystiel
Rating: PG (For now)
Pairing: Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.
Spoilers: Based off the Season 8 storyline I suppose.
Warnings: Its so fluffy I'm gonna die.
Notes: This is a WIP and I'm done with about 3 chapters. But its the holidays and its busy, so updates when I can. Promise it won't be too long between entries :) Beta'd by the lovely TruffleHead once again. Thank you honey.
Summary: It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.
It was just another day. The early morning sun was bright. Dean hadn't slept, of course, but he had nothing to get up for, so was content to stay in bed all day. It was Sunday, a day Dean Winchester considered holy in all respects. It was his little family's day of rest. No class, no work, no anything. Just food, laughter and sleep. It was the one day a week that he looked forward to. It was the one day a week he didn't have to pretend to be anyone or anything, he could just be with Sammy and Cas. Everything seemed much simpler and more... real.
He looked at the photo of Cas and Sam to his left. It was taken on their first week of this new life. Their first Sunday, where they'd thrown a football around and had a barbecue for Christ's sake. Ever since then, Sundays had become a tradition. Relaxation and the three of them were the only two rules.
Cas was snuggled into his side, hair a mess, trench coat twisted. Dean wanted to take it off of him, just for the sheer fact that it looked ridiculously uncomfortable. Not for any other reason. Of course not.
Cas' breath tickled his skin lightly, silent kisses of air telling him things had changed, for the better, and Dean knew they had. All the hunts they went on, all the cases they worked, he never once woke up with Cas snuggled into his side. He would sometimes be standing above him, or by the window, trying to respect Deans "personal space" rule. But he never got this. This warmth felt like all the wrongs he'd done had led him to the right place in the end. Dean had never believed in love; he believed in family and loyalty, and that had been the end of it. But when they had moved into this tiny little house in the suburbs, Cas had become more than family. He had become Dean's best friend, his lullaby, and the only thing Dean valued a little more than the Impala and Sam.
Cas had become everything. Dean had never been taught how to deal with emotions like that. So whatever they had, whatever this was, it like everything else in his life would die at his hands.
Cas stirred and Dean pushed the dark thoughts from his mind. It was Sunday, after all.
"Dean." Cas' voice was thick with sleep.
"Morning, Cas." He swept the hair from Cas' eyes.
"It's Sunday." Cas smiled, wide and toothy. Rare, bright. The only thing Dean ever felt like he'd won. Dean traced the laugh lines and Cas' cheeks burned red. It was more. The electricity between the two had never been so strong. The feel of Cas' rough skin against his own felt like a shift in the universe, heavy and powerful and something Dean wasn't equipped to deal with. Cas moved closer, his cheeks softening to a light pink, his smile falling into a hard line, determined and freaking hot. Dean shivered.
Like clockwork, Sam burst through the door, his face lit up.
"I had a great idea." He grabbed onto the doorframe and smirked.
"I can feel myself regretting this already." Dean said, trying to remain composed as Cas' leg slowly slid up his. A little smirk found its way onto Cas' lips and Dean coughed.
"Well, what is it?" Dean could feel his cheeks heating. Sam tilted his head to the side slightly, then quickly shook it. Dean gulped.
"It's a surprise" Sam wiggled his eyebrows mockingly and fled from the room, slamming the door behind him.
"Really, Cas?" Dean pushed out a long, heavy breath.
"I apologise, I'm not sure what came over me." And with those few words, it went back to being less. Cas slid out of Dean's hold and off of the bed in one swift movement. After Cas had left the room, Dean rolled onto his back and sighed. He had accidentally shifted their relationship from sparking electricity and heat to an awkward silence and an empty bed. Again.
He didn't know how to do this. This was Cas. Someone he's known for years. His best friend, his angel. The only thing that wasn't family that stuck around because it wanted to. Dean wasn't even aware of his feelings for Cas. The change in their relationship felt natural, like it was the direction it had always been heading, but Dean somehow always halted its process, stopped it from moving forward in the direction both Cas and himself obviously wanted it to go.
xXx
They were all in the Impala. Sam was driving, and Cas was in the backseat with - much to Dean's dismay - Jimmy, the dog. Dean wasn't entirely excited. The mood for their usual fun-day Sunday had been ruined this morning and Dean had been struggling to get it back. The dog slobbering all over his baby wasn't helping.
"Sam, your animal is licking my face." Cas said, disgruntled.
"Relax, Cas, it just means he likes you." Sam laughed.
"I'm not certain the feeling is mutual at this stage." Cas groaned, "He's a little forward." Sam laughed loudly and Dean grabbed his camera to take a photo of the lovers on the back seat. Cas gave him a shy smile and just like that, it felt like Sunday again.
They ended up at the beach about 20 minutes into their drive. Sam put Jimmy on his lead and they all approached the white sand, looking overdressed and awkward. They weren't the type that belonged on a beach. And, to be honest, their wardrobe hadn't exactly changed to fit their new lifestyle.
"Nobody said anything about the freakin' beach, Sam." Dean wiped sweat from his forehead, taking off one of his layers. Sam rolled his eyes and started walking down the sandy path in front of them.
"I don't do the beach." Dean muttered to himself, following Sam and Jimmy down onto the bright, uneven ground. Cas followed close behind and they both unsteadily followed Sam to a large group of people swimming on the beach.
"Oh God no." Dean took in the picture in front of him. People in wetsuits, on surfboards, paddling in the sand. "We are not-"
"Oh yes we are." Sam smiled, tying Jimmy's lead to a rock and joining the group.
"Am I going to have to put on one of those suits?" Cas asked.
Dean laughed. "I'd pay to see that."
"Come on, guys!" Sam called.
"You know, I always knew you were one of those weird fitness junkies who actually enjoyed exercise and salad." Dean said once they reached the group, "but surfing, Sammy, really?" Sam didn't respond, just pulled a face.
"I'm not wearing one of those." Dean pointed to a few of the people in wetsuits. Sam pulled another face.
"Sam, I also don't want to wear that skin tight bodysuit." Cas bent down to where Sam was pulling something out of his bag. Sam chucked a pair of shorts at both of them.
"I don't do shorts either, Sammy." Dean smirked.
"Stop chucking a bitch fit and just put them on, Dean." An icy glare was shot in his direction, "you too, Cas; off you go."
When Dean returned wearing a hideous pair of hawaiian board shorts, he could see Sam talking with what looked to be the instructor. Dean scanned his surroundings for Cas, like he unconsciously did whenever he went anywhere.
"Dean." Cas sounded completely mortified. Dean turned around to a half naked Castiel in a pair of equally hideous board shorts.
"I look ridiculous." Cas groaned. "I used to be a soldier, an angel of the Lord." He huffed, throwing his arms by his sides.
"You-" Dean had no words, for once in his life. He stared, mouth wide open, at the practically naked, ex-angel of the Lord in front of him.
"Dean, are you-?"
"Lets go embarrass ourselves, shall we?" He smirked. "After you"
Cas walked ahead and Dean adjusted his shorts while thinking the most un-sexy thoughts he could. He would not get a preemptive boner on the beach in ugly shorts over an ex-angel of the Lord. No he would not.
Dean felt silly. He was on a surfboard, on the sand, learning a skill he was probably never going to use again. But it was a Sunday, and he was with his brother and his best friend. It simply didn't matter that he was making a fool of himself. Cas actually got quite good at it, and was the first of the three of them to go in the water and actually stand up. He looked unbearably cute in his flowered board shorts, smiling brightly and looking way too proud of himself. Dean felt his heart tighten. Sam was way too lanky and just couldn't get the hang of it. Dean stood up once in the water, but fell off around what felt like a million times.
Sam and Dean didn't spend much time on the boards, instead opting for swimming with Jimmy, while Cas continued to show off. It possibly may have been Deans favourite Sunday yet. Cas; wet, half naked, smiling. It was the most pure and beautiful thing he'd probably ever witnessed and it filled his whole body with a lightness he couldn't describe.
They headed home in the early afternoon. Cas was driving, Dean next to him, while Sammy was crashed out on the back seat with a forever slobbering Jimmy. They looked like a family to him, a weird and dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless. Dean smiled wide, toothy, and rare. Cas looked over at him, the same smile on his face.
"Look at the road, Cas." Dean put on a slightly fake bravado.
"Alright, Dean." Cas smiled again, turning to face the road. A second later, however, a hand came off the steering wheel and found its way into Dean's. A light pink flashed onto Cas' cheek and at that Dean tightened his hand. This is what living life is all about, right?
They made it home in the early evening. The street was dead quiet, and all the lights were off. It'd been awhile, but something just wasn't right about this picture. Dean grabbed a gun from the glove compartment.
And then, all of a sudden, everything changed again.