Well that is lovely.
here, have some college!au
Cas lay on his back breathing shallowly, listening to the ticking of the clock, fingers knotted in the sheets beneath him. The AC in the apartment had broken and Dean said he’d pick up some electric fans on his way home from class. Until then…Cas would have to wait. They were in the midst of a heat wave and it swept through the city’s streets and into open windows mercilessly, slipping into Castiel’s blood and heating him up from the inside. God, he needed Dean to–– “Fuck,” he hissed as his phone buzzed on the night stand and the jolt out of his thoughts made him aware of his erection. He’d texted Dean, impatient and needy and sounding like every whiny girlfriend Dean had had before Cas was in the picture and Cas snatched at the phone desperately, ankles tangling in the heat-heavy cotton sheets, biting his lip as the fabric dragged against his boxers. He flipped his phone up and glanced at the message before flopping back onto the bed and running his eyes around the perimeters of the room. Don’t do anything until I get there ;) Cas didn’t think he’d ever hated Dean more.
He waited for Dean, though, because that’s what he always did, fingers trailing mindlessly on his hipbone, rubbing the protrusion, nail scraping at the small letters tattooed there: faith. He thought about if he got a tattoo in every place Dean had kissed him, the trail of careful spots that would trace the hickeys Dean had left along the inside of his thigh from their first time. He spent the time distracted with these thoughts, dissecting memorable nights (and mornings and afternoons and somewhere-in-betweens) and mentally finding the spots Dean had kissed, thinking what would be an appropriate symbol for each one to be inked onto his skin.
He cataloged these memories until Dean got home, turning to Dean wide-eyed, letting out a pathetic little whimper as the sight of him shot straight to his dick. Dean stood there speechless for a moment, bag hanging limply from his fingers by the strap, taken aback at the sight of an underwear-clad Cas stretched out on their bed, aroused and slightly sweaty and glaring at him with blazing intensity. Dean winked cockily as he approached and Cas rolled his eyes, grabbing the hem of his jacket and pulling him down.
They spent the rest of the afternoon refreshing every possible-tattoo-mark on Cas’s body.
And I’m done, I swear. I’m off to do homework now and if anyone asks this is Lena and Kayleigh’s fault because dom!Dean.
” I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but I’m sorry, no dice.”
…At least he has a reminder of them.
Old man Dean! And his young man :3
I have a huge soft spot for older Dean/always-young-angel Castiel. There has to be a little bitterness in my curtain stuff. I like the sadness of it, but I also love the idea of Castiel loving Dean no matter how he changes over the years.
I also firmly believe he would be there when Dean dies, and leaves for heaven mere moments after him. lalala you can’t tell me different
I was drunk. Please don’t sue me.