Destiel Oneshots (fluff and smut)

12. A "Movie Night"

I can't think of any prompts, so howabout a movie night? This is your time to microwave some popcorn, sit back, and relax!
Enjoy the fluff! (I'm gonna try to make this longer and fluuuuuuuuffy as crap. Prompts, please, please, please! Also, 180 views! WOO!) (Maybe a little surprise at the end? Eh? ) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I've been slacking and just writing them in wattpad, then posting, when I really should write a rough draft in Google Docs and check it and lengthen and then move it to wattpad and do the same.

It has come to my attention that my oneshots are toooooooooooooo short, so I'll write maybe a thousand words everyday, or more, to about 5000-10000 (if I can, of course), which is the length of a good ficlet. Sound good?

Meh, I'll just procrastinate some more.

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The bunker door opened with a loud squeak, rust rubbing against metal. Dean stood at the doorway, leaning against it and rubbing his arm. He had just come back from a particularly hard hunt, and was exhausted. Sam had decided to let himself clean up the hunt, as in, kill the remaining demons, because Dean was tired, too tired to speak or walk. Dean looked around, studying his surroundings, when he noticed the silhouette of a person sitting on the couch, icepack in hand, pressed against his cheek. He had forgot that Cas had tried to help, but ended up being beaten up by a group of demons that had been left behind from Sam.  He walked over to the couch and sat next to his friend, glad for the comfort of the couch, and gratefully sank into it.

"Hey Cas," He breathed out, voice hoarse. Cas looked over and gave him an apologetic smile. His eyes looked saddened, and glanced at Dean for a few seconds, and looked away again.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get to you in time to save you from those other demons." He said, awkwardness hanging in the air. Save? Save me? I didn't need saving. He thought, struck with confusion. Dean leaned back into the couch, eyeing the icepack, and felt his bruises burn a bit more. Cas seemed to notice, and handed it to him. He rolled up the sleeve on his shirt and pressed the ice onto his bruise, wincing at the cold, but then sighed at the feeling of relief. Cas sighed, obviously curious and worried. "Are you sure that you are okay?" He asked. Dean nodded, biting back a poisonous remark. He didn't want to be hard on his friend, especially after what had happened. Cas looked him up and down, and then looked away. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, before the pain in his arm started to numb from the constant source of cold. Dean leaned forwards and grabbed the remote, switching on the TV and flopping back onto the couch. There was a movie on, but not just any movie.

It was The Lion King.

He glanced at Cas, who was squinting at the TV, curious about it. Right. He hasn't seen it before. Dean looked back at the screen, and settled down. They watched in silence. Dean, being the one to watch this a million times as a kid, was getting a little bored. Cas was completely focused on the screen, watching as cartoon-ish buffalo poured down into the ravine where I knew that Mufasa, one of the lions, would die. He kept staring at the angel as realization and anger poured through him. Cas looked like he was going to reach through the screen and kill  Scar. Dean suddenly got the feeling that he should tell Cas that the lion dies in the end anyways, but kept the spoiler to himself. Cas shifted, rubbing his arms, and taking a sharp breath in. There was a little bit of a draft coming in through an open window. Is he cold? That's a random thought. Dean questioned himself as his hand twitched, deciding to do the "yawn and put arm around" maneuver. He started to prepare, rolling his shoulders, and stretching. Cas didn't seem to notice, yet. For some reason, Dean was nervous. Too nervous. Why he felt he had to do it to his best friend,  he didn't know. Maybe it was because he was... Not gay. Ha, totally not gay.