random yaoi

We Could Have Tomorrow

{I dont own this fan fiction. I found this on tumblr... Giving people the right to read a beautiful fanfict}

[Supernatural] We Could Have Tomorrow

Title: We Could Have Tomorrow
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel with short appearances by Sam & Bobby.
Spoilers: Canon until 5x16.
Warnings: Mild swearing, fluff and sex.
Word Count: 8650
Summary: Figures it should take a damn apocalypse for Dean to finally get it.
Notes: I wrote this on and off for awhile, but this is my first venture into this pairing and this fandom, so I hope I did the characters justice. I hope you all enjoy it as well~

It's the end of the world or pretty damn close to it.

Dean's standing there, in the middle of a field of daisies just a few clicks away from their hideout, waiting for the inevitable destruction. Waiting for Lucifer. Or Hell on Earth or possibly salvation if all goes according to plan. At the moment, he really doesn't want to contemplate the odds of succeeding-or failing. Whichever the option, it all comes down to him... and Dean definitely doesn't want to think about that.

Instead he just stares at his surroundings, at the flowers and the trees and the grass all around him with a mixture of wonder and regret that they may all be burnt the moment Lucifer steps there.

Not unless he stops him.

Dean swallows a lump in his throat. Clearly trying to take his mind off things isn't working.

He doesn't want to think about the possible destruction of his home planet or about Lucifer or even about the goddamn plan-heck, he'd rather not think about anything at all, except, well, how to best put your mind and heart at ease (God knows he needs to stay calm and focus long enough to get through this night).

To his dismay, he can't put himself to ease. He thought a little walk outside might clear his head, but all he thought about so far since he'd been out here was the end of the world, Lucifer and the so-called plan to take down the Devil, which, by the way, was about as foolproof as him going up to Satan himself and asking him to kindly back the fuck off and if it wasn't too much trouble, if he could please head back down under, thank you very much.

Yeah, maybe when Hell froze over and angels stopped being dicks.

He thinks back to Sam and Bobby at the house, knowing full well the both of them are working relentlessly to make sure this plan was foolproof. They'd hit every book they could find, had practically leafed through every scroll in creation and had rounded up all the artillery they had in stock. Looking at their arsenal, it'd seemed they could defeat every evil son-of-a-bitch out there, including Lucifer.

For just that little while, Dean thinks maybe theycan win. But maybe that'd been the alcohol talking at the time.

Dean vaguely remembers the talk he had with Sam from the night before. Well, at least, hebelieves there had been some type of conversation involved. He'd been drunk as fuck that night, sprawled across the floor in Bobby's living room, with Sam on the couch next to him and a bottle of tequila in his hand.

000

The room is swaying sideways by the time Dean starts speaking out loud.

"Sam..." he slurs.

"Hm," is Sam's noncommittal reply, but Dean knows he's listening.

"About tomorrow..." Dean trails off, partially because he doesn't know where to go from here and also because even drunk, the admittance of anything remotely emotional is still hard for him. There's a brief pause as neither of them speaks and Dean is starting to wonder if maybe it was best if he'd just kept his mouth shut, but then Sam is turning to him.