Destiel One-Shots

On a Roman Holiday

ok cool I wrote this in five days and woohoo no school for a bit and aWE MOCKINGJAY PART 2 HURT ME but hey there was an ad that showed my theater was showing Roman Holiday (Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck) thought that was ironic ye anyway

I'm so upset because I have a bunch of full length fanfic ideas but idk if I'm ready for them and on top of that I hAVE TWO IDEAS THAT I ABSOLUTELY LOVE but whatever enjoy this last part it was cute writing it I enjoyed it

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Part 2

Castiel glanced over at Dean through the corner of his eye, and noticed that Dean was looking straight back at him as they were told that they had to partner up to get a hotel room in the lobby. He grinned widely, then yawned. It was four o' clock in the morning in the east coast, but in Rome, it was ten. A series of uninteresting events later, and they got their room key and enter the hotel room they would be staying in for the next two weeks.

It was cozy, with soft yellow curtains covering up the windows, masking the sunlight. The two twin beds were separated by a single bedside table, and the TV sat on a large table at the front of the room. The wall was a plain white color, but the sun shining through the curtains caused it to have a yellowish light.

Castiel yawned and placed his suitcase against the bed closest to the window before falling backwards onto the bed. Dean threw his duffel bag onto a cushioned chair, but smiled as he came over to stand over Castiel's bed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"What, you're not going to sleep?" Castiel sits up, yanking his shoes off and throwing them off into a corner of the room.

"I slept a little in the plane. I'm tired, though," he answered, stepping aside so that the shoes wouldn't knock into him. He moves over again as Castiel stands up and slouches his tan coat off of his body, stretching as he walked over to the chair and draped the coat over it.

"Well I'm going to sleep, so... I'm going to go change," he lifts his suitcase up on the bed, rummaging through it until he finds a thin white shirt and sweatpants.

"That's what you're going to wear to sleep?" Dean asks incredulously, placing his bag on his bed and looking through it.

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dean. Isn't this pretty much what everyone wears to bed?"

"Not us," he answered keenly. Castiel, standing in front of the bathroom, turned around towards Dean, who winked suggestively.

"Don't be a dick, Dean," he replied, going into the bathroom and shutting the door closed. He could hear him laugh through the wood of the door, as he leaned against it, breathing in and out. Was this Dean being himself, or was he really trying to make a move that Castiel would eagerly comply to? He couldn't tell. He tried not to smile as he remembered that he had been trying to read these signs before they started dating.

He changed quickly and washed his face, shutting off the light as he left. Dean had no shirt on, but still had his own sweatpants on as he sat on Castiel's bed. Castiel had his clothes in a bundle in his hands, and bit his lip as he walked over to put his clothes in his still-open suitcase.

As he folded them and put them inside, Dean stood up, making it impossible for Castiel not to look at him. "I was going to wear what I usually wear to sleep, which is usually my boxers, but then I decided to be 'modest.' But really, you're the one missing out."

Castiel shook his head, smiling, and playfully tried to shove Dean away. He caught his hand and chuckled softly, which took Castiel aback. Was Dean actually being forward with his feelings now?