Day Fourteen: Gender Swapped
Dean was curled up in bed, wrapped under his comforter. It was quiet in the room as Dean drifted in and out of sleep. It couldn't be time to wake up, could it? He didn't want to move, he was too comfortable, too content with where he was.
Dean had moved into Cas' room. His bed was bigger, more comfortable, and Dean couldn't stay away from Cas' warm embrace any longer.
When they had separate rooms, and before they had established their relationship, Dean would lie in his bed and stare at the ceiling. He would think about Cas and what it would be like to cuddle with him, spoon him. He couldn't believe he waited so long to actually make a move on Cas. Holding his hand for the first time felt like winning a race. He worked so hard to get up the courage to just take his hand, but it paid off in the end.
He heard the door creak open and close shut. What was Cas doing? Dean was curious so he peeked through his eyelids and the first thing he saw was the bright red letters on the clock telling Dean that it was only three in the morning. He groaned and rolled over. Hopefully Cas was okay, because he didn't want to leave the warmth of his bed.
He watched the door waiting for it to open and for Cas to stumble back to the bed and crawl into Dean's arms.
It took a while for Dean to notice the dark shadow in front of the door. No, not a shadow, a person.
Dean lifted his head, "Cas?" he asked hoarsely.
"Hey baby," a sweet, woman's voice said from the shadows.
She walked away from the door and towards the bed. She stopped by the side of the bed. In the moonlight, Dean could see her long, dark wavy hair falling past her shoulders and breasts. Her silhouette was all curves.
She crawled into bed next to him and placed a hand on his chest. He rolled onto his back as she straddled him. Dean could see her blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight. She tilted her head to the left, "What's wrong Dean?"
Dean blinked, unaware that he had been staring, "Nothing, just…"
Just what? Dean didn't understand, this was Cas, his Cas, why did he feel like something wasn't right? Everything seemed normal. Her hair hung in beautiful curtains, framing her face and always squinting eyes. He wondered if maybe she needed glasses…
She was wearing her usual pajamas; tank top and underwear, but there was something about her that twisted Dean's gut and told him to stop. Stop touching her, stop looking at her, because it didn't feel right.
Dean couldn't figure it out. He always held Cas like this. Trailed hands down her sides and thighs as she kissed him.
As if she was reading Dean's mind, she leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips. He ran his hands up her sides, her shirt riding up. Dean loved her soft skin and curves. The way she fit perfectly in his hands or wrapped in his arms.
Her kiss deepened, sending small waves of want through Dean. Dean suddenly felt guilty. Why? Why was he guilty about her hands on his bare chest while she kissed him? Why should he feel guilty about the passion that swept through him, urging him to slip her shirt off?
He blocked out the guilt, wanting to enjoy this moment with Cas. He cupped her breasts and she curled her fingers on his skin, leaving faint white lines from her nails. She rolled her hips forward and Dean moaned, wanting more…
No, something told him no. Don't let her lay her bare chest against his. Don't let her slip a hand down the back of your boxers.
But this is what Dean wanted, wasn't it? He wanted Cas to touch him, to love him. So why was his brain telling him no?
He ignored the screaming in his head. He turned his head and kissed her neck and shoulders while he gripped her hips tighter, holding her close.
She squeezed his ass, making him groan and bite down on her shoulder. She removed her hands from their position and planted soft kisses all over his neck, chest, stomach…
No.
She pulled his boxers down and he gasped her name, "Cas."
No.
Her hands ran up and down his thighs and he ached for her to touch him.
"Cas," he groaned.
Stop, Dean, stop now…this isn't right…you know it isn't…
He could feel her breath, so close…so close…
His eyes snapped open and he stared at the ceiling. He panted in the silence.
No hands touched him, no breath tickled his skin. He was sprawled on his back in Cas' bed, the covers strangling his limbs.
It was a dream. He told himself, just a dream.
He turned his head over and saw Cas, lying next to him, eyes closed in a peaceful sleep.
His hand was stretched out towards Dean. They had fallen asleep with Dean tracing small circles in his palm. He rolled over and took Cas' hand in his and watched as he slept.
That had to be the strangest dream Dean had ever had. Never has he dreamed of feeling guilty while being touched and loved by someone before.
His eyes raked over Cas' sleeping form. His tousled black hair, sticking to the pillow, not long and wavy like the 'Cas' in his dream. Their face structure was the same though, shaped by subtle cheekbones and a dimpled chin. Even their eyes had been the same shade of bright blue.
Dean remembered the sweet kisses and his eyes moved down to Cas' lips. He thought the kisses had felt familiar. The way dream Cas kissed him, was the same way the Cas laying in front of him kissed. Dean smiled as he thought of Cas' pink, beautiful lips all over him. Come to think of it, he would never feel guilty for Cas kissing him, so why did he feel like he should run screaming from her when she kissed him?
Dean's brow furrowed, because it wasn't the Cas. It wasn't his broad shoulders that he held onto; his strong thighs that straddled him.
This Cas, the one right in front of him, was the only Cas he could ever want. Sure, the female version of Cas was beautiful, gorgeous really, but Dean loved Cas just the way he was, short hair, stubble, and all.
Dean scooted closer to Cas and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer to his chest. He didn't wake, but he nudged his face into Dean's chest, snaking an arm around Dean's middle.
He rested his chin on the top of Cas' head, breathing in the smell of his shampoo.
Dean waited for the guilt he had felt in his dream, but it never came. He let out the breath he held.
This. This is right.
He closed his eyes and smiled; he couldn't wait to tell Cas about the dream. The look on his face would be priceless.