Random Destiel Stories

A Fight

So I'm having major computer problems which is why I haven't updated as quickly as usual, though my updates are kinda random. ANYWAYS, I got onto a non-messed up computer and really JUST CAN'T HELP BUT THINK AND WRITE ABOUT DESTIEL. I know I need help, but I will never seek it out. Never. I love writing and I suck at writing all these make out scenes and stuff like that, so I thought I'd give it some practice so it can slowly stop becoming a huge road block in my writing. Erg, long note, OVER.

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Dean had been gone for about an hour and Castiel had stopped calling about 30 minutes ago.

They had had a fight. A huge one. Then Dean had stormed out in anger, not saying where he was going. Castiel had called over and over again, to no avail. So Cas had decided to sit down on Dean’s motel bed and stare at the wall in deep thought until he got back.

They had Crowley back at the bunker and Sam had stayed back, confident that he could convince Crowley to help the fallen angels beat Metatron. Dean and Castiel had gone on a quick hunt a couple states over, a pretty simple salt and burn.

Castiel had been getting frequent phone calls on his new phone from several fallen angels that him, Sam and Dean had helped out. They would constantly call Cas with questions about everyday life on earth and about finding a way to get home.

Today was no exception. Castiel had gotten call after call all day, and he had turned off his phone in annoyance for awhile so him and Dean could finish their hunt in peace. All of the calls he kept getting were one of the things that led to their argument.

Dean and him had gotten much closer in the months that Castiel had been human. Much, much closer. They kissed frequently, made out whenever they had time alone. Castiel couldn’t even remember how it had happened, just that one day they were simply really good friends and the next they were a lot more. But the closer they’d gotten, the more Dean had finally brought his worries up, about what would happen when all the angels got their grace back. If things could still stay the same when Cas got his grace back. Dean was adamant that they could not.

“What are you gonna do Cas? Book makeout sessions with me at my nursing home when I’m god knows how old?”

Castiel had no answers for him, could only assure him that whatever they had going on, he wanted to keep it going. But that was selfish and a bit unrealistic, Castiel knew.

Things had blown up from there, past mistakes, deeply hidden guilt and Castiel’s inability to make up his mind over whether he wanted to stay human or not bubbling up to the surface.

And now Castiel was alone and it was hard. He figured Dean had probably gone drinking but there were many bars in town and it annoyed Cas to no end, not being able to know exactly where Dean was and not being able to get there in mere seconds if he was in trouble. But it had given the fallen angel time to ponder over what he wanted and Castiel felt that he had finally made up his mind.

The door opened suddenly and Castiel looked up, standing as Dean glanced quickly at him and then looked away. Then he noticed the blood on Dean’s shirt, right over his stomach.

Castiel walked up closer to the hunter who was currently frozen at the door. His hair was all wet from the rain that had been pouring on and off all day.

“What happened?”

Dean shrugged, still not looking Cas in the eye, “Got in a little fight. It’s nothing.”

Castiel gently grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him over to sit on the bed. Dean was silent as Cas pulled off his jacket and his button up. He lifted up the hunter’s t-shirt and saw the red gash across his ribs. It would need stitches.