Destiel One Shots

Don't Cry Over Spilt Paint

Dean felt the panic build in his chest more and more as he looked over the various cans of paint in front of him for what had to be the twentieth time.

Where the hell is the indanthrene blue paint? Dean thought in a frenzy. He had a painting due the very next day in his advanced art class and he could not afford to screw up this piece. But of course, he had run out of the main blue color that he had been using throughout the entire work.

And then Dean saw it. The indanthrene blue. Maybe there is a God, Dean thought.

With a smile and a breath of relief, Dean took the can off the shelf. But that relief hadn't even lasted half a minute before everything went tumbling down. Literally. A large mass, presumably a body, knocked into Dean from behind. The small paint can slipped out of Dean's hands, and before he could even think about catching it, the can came crashing to the floor. The blue was flowing onto the ugly tile from where it was cracked right open at the top.

Dean just stood there, absolutely dumbfounded, unable to do anything else.

Until he remembered that someone else was there.

"Oh geez, I am so sorry! I didn't see you there. Or no, I wasn't paying attention, I'm so sorry!"

Dean slowly looked up from the disaster on the floor, breathing in slowly as he turned to give the stranger a piece of his mind.

But then he stopped breathing altogether. The man in front of him was gorgeous. Messy dark brown hair, strong cheekbones and full lips. But it was the man's eyes that had Dean speechless.

His eyes were so blue it put every mixed and sealed can of paint to shame. Even in the shitty fluorescent lighting in the art supplies store, this stranger's eyes were shining like diamonds.

"Are you alright?" The man's eyes sparkled with concern as he lifted a hand to Dean's shoulder. The touch broke Dean from his frozen state, but the feeling of awe was still very much there.

"I, um, I'm sorry. Um, didn't mean to run into you." Dean stammered as he felt a blush crawl up his neck. "I was rushing so I could get home and finish my painting, I'm sorry."

The man's face softened. "No, I should be the only one apologizing here. It was my fault."

Dean simply nodded and the other man tilted his head in confusion. "I'm sorry, have we met?" the man asked.

Now it was Dean's turn to be confused. He definitely would have known if he had met this man before. "No, I don't believe we have. Why do you ask?"

The man looked away before he said, "Well, it's just that...You kept staring at me like you were maybe trying to figure out if you knew me."

Dean's expression of confusion quickly morphed into one of horror. He hadn't meant to stare at this stranger, but...

"Your eyes are gorgeous," Dean blurted out before he could stop himself.

"What?" the other man breathed out. Dean swallowed the lump of nervousness that was steadily forming in his throat.

"You have the most amazing eyes I have ever seen," Dean continued since he had already spat out the confession. The man just stood there; his big, blue eyes widened out even more in what had to be shock.

"There are so many different shade and hues and tints of blue that they don't even seem real," Dean informed him, somehow becoming more confident.

The man shifted from one foot to the other and scratched the back of his neck. He was blushing profusely, red coloring his whole face and the tips of his eyes. Stupidly, all Dean could think about was how that made his eyes stand out even more.