Castiel discovers Destiel fanfiction and believes the writers are correct. Now he must convince Dean. | Meta | 12K words |


6. Chapter six


Chapter six


Their second real date was definitely better than their first, or even the second fake date, Castiel thought. The routine was similar, with dinner at a diner, followed by a movie. But there were slight changes. At the diner, Castiel sat in the seat next to Dean, and wouldn't let his hand go until their food arrived, and Dean needed both hands to eat. When their elbows kept bumping together, forcing Dean to smear ketchup on his face, Castiel finally moved to the other side, looking sheepish. But Dean gave him a small smile, albeit a little nervously.

At the movie theater, Dean told Castiel to pick the movie. Castiel had little opinion about movies at all, his only interest before being in watching Dean while he watched the movies. He knew which one Dean would want, the action thriller with the ex-marine turned drug-buster. And he also knew which one Dean was dreading, the adorable romantic comedy with a poster lettered in pink. While it would have been fun to torment Dean, he thought it would be better to save it for later. If there was indeed a later. He told Dean he'd like to see the action movie, and Dean smiled with relief. He bought the tickets quickly, in case Castiel changed his mind.

Once in the theater, Dean sat down in the back of the theater, whereas usually he preferred the middle, or even closer to the front. Castiel sat down beside him, and again, reached for Dean's hand, clasping it over the arm rest, their fingers dangling in the the cup holder. Dean squirmed for a bit, turning his hand this way and that, which confused Castiel, since in the diner, they'd had no problem. Then, Dean pulled his hand from Castiel's and he felt a little painful tug in his stomach.

But only for a moment. Dean leaned away, and pushed the arm rest up and out of the way before clasping Castiel's hand again and then resting it on the top of his thigh. Castiel's heart fluttered hard in his chest, even as Dean muttered "...more comfortable..." under his breath.

Castiel had no idea what happened for the duration of the movie as his eyes were fastened on Dean, going from his face to their clasped hands. Every time the action surged, Dean would drop his hand for a moment, getting into the action himself, but when the music died down, without even looking, his hand found Castiel's again, gripping it tight for a moment, and then relaxing back into a comfortable clasp.

They drove back to the motel, in what Castiel thought of as blissful silence. He couldn't hold Dean's hand while he was driving, but he watched his hand on the stick, and imagined it on his own.

In the motel parking lot, Dean got out and stood facing Castiel, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Goodnight, Dean. Thank you for taking me out," Castiel said, a small, satisfied smile on his lips, and a light of happiness in his eyes. He was certainly happier than at the end of their first date.

"Goodnight, Cas," Dean said, and before Castiel was able to fly off, to let Dean get the sleep the he needed every night. He was shocked one last time when Dean leaned in to kiss him.

It was nothing more than the briefest brush of dry lips against his own, and then Dean was back in his own personal space, looking awkward and embarrassed. Castiel just stared at Dean, who after a moment of that, gave the angel a clumsy smile, and then turned to his motel door, and went in.

Castiel stood there for ten more minutes, staring at the door, frozen. Finally, he reached up and touched his lips, just as lightly as Dean had kissed him.

It seemed, he was the happiest angel in all of creation again.


Dean had been grateful that Sam was asleep when he got home from his date with Castiel the night before, but he knew he couldn't avoid his brother forever. At some point, they would need to 'talk', and Dean was dreading it.

When Dean woke up though, Sam didn't say anything. Nor did he say anything when Dean got out of the shower. Or while they were eating breakfast in the motel room and scanning the papers for jobs around the country. Sam was acting like nothing had happened and it was driving Dean insane.

"Why aren't you grilling me for details?" Dean snapped after an hour of Sam's disinterest.

"I respect your privacy too much," Sam said, his face serene and innocent.

"Bullshit. You talked to Cas already, didn't you?"

"Before you woke up."

"What'd he tell you?"

"Cas would never kiss and tell," Sam said, with a wicked smile and a hard emphasis on the word 'kiss'.

"You are never going to let me live this down, are you?" Dean said dropping his head on the table.

"After affectionately calling me 'bitch' and 'Samantha' for years? Don't even dream of it," Sam said, a little wickedly. "But before all that, I do want to say that I'm really happy about your decision with Cas."

"Shut up."

"And I want you to know that I fully support the two of you."

"Shut up."

"And you know, when things progress further between the two of you-"

"Please, stop!"

"-Just put a sock on the door, okay?"

"You really, really are forbidden from speaking to Cas anymore."

"Hey, did you know there's some fanfiction that claims through the power of your Destiel love, you can defeat the devil?"

"My life cannot get any gayer."

"Well, actually..."

"Shut up, Sam!"

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