Bring It On Home- A Destiel AU [COMPLETED]

Chapter 9

Dean and Castiel spent the first few hours of the Snowpocalypse slouching on the sofa eating oatmeal and watching The Fast and the Furiousseries.

"What I think is weird," Dean said, "is that I still have power. We live on the same side of the street and everything. You'd think we'd be on the same line..."

"Oh, my outage has nothing to do with the power lines," Cas said nonchalantly. "I blew a fuse and didn't have a replacement."

Dean stopped mid-slurp. "What? How?"

Cas swallowed another bite. "I was running several machines, and I think there was power surge. The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back."

"Machines?" Dean asked.

Castiel nodded.

Dean waited for a second, set down his oatmeal on the coffee table. "Care to elaborate on that?" he asked incredulously.

Cas stared at him as though Dean were the weird one. "Rock polishers. Grinders. I was running them at the same time."

Dean paused the movie and turned his full attention on his sofa-mate. "Cas, what do you actually do for a living?"

Cas blinked. "I told you. I'm a photographer." He pointed at the frozen TV screen. "Turn it back on. I haven't figured out yet which one's Fast and which one's Furious."

Dean gave him a long look.

Cas pointed insistently.

Dean sighed, and pushed play. "Well, at least you're the only one without electricity."

And then the room plunged into darkness.

"You jinxed it, Dean," Cas said. "You just had to jinx it."

"It's not my fault!" Dean snapped. "It's the fucking Snowpocalypse!"

So they built a fire, and watched it for a few minutes.

"Welp." Dean gazed morosely at his empty bowl. "What do we do now?"

Cas shrugged. "Have a drink?"

Dean pursed his lips. "Maybe just one."

....

"An', an' lemme tell you something," Dean slurred, "I don't care what anybody says. Gazelles are fucking majestic, a'right? Fucking goddamn majestic. An' if that makes me a pussy, then I'm a pussy."

"No, you're right, you're exactly right," Cas said, his eyes wide and insistent. "They're graceful, they just - bound everywhere -" He illustrated with an expansive hand gesture. "And their spirits are so swift and free... They're beautiful." The firelight danced on his face and his skin glowed, alive, alive with the flame like some kinda fuckin' phoenix skin or some shit like that.

Dean snuggled down in the nest of blankets and gazed up at Cas said, "Castiel, I am havin' some poetical thoughts about you." He cradled the bottle of Jack. "Time for another swig!"

Cas reached over him and tugged the bottle out of his hands. "I'm cutting you off."

Dean frowned and pouted and tried to look pathetic. "Heeyyyy. Give it back. Who made you boss of Drunktown?"

Cas laughed and exuded absolutely no sympathy. "I'm the mayor of Drunktown. And the chief of police. A warrant has been issued for your arrest."

Dean chuckled and laid back and closed his eyes, folding his hands behind his head. "What're the charges?"

Cas licked his finger and turned the page of an imaginary notebook. "Excessive drunkenness. Gazelle speeches. Public indecency."

Dean's eyes snapped open. "What indecency?"

Cas gave him a thorough looking-over. "You're only wearing boxers. High scandal."

"Huh?" Dean craned his neck and looked down and sure enough, nothing but shorty-shorts. "When did that happen?"

Cas shrugged. "I dunno. You had a robe but you said it was stifling your innovation."

"Huh." Dean had no clue what he'd meant by that but he didn't care, technically Cas was just in his underwear too even if it was long underwear, it was still his undies so they were equal. He just settled back into the blankets and looked up at Cas, who was propped up by his arm, with his palm flat on the blanket and his elbow locked and his head resting against his shoulder and his back sort of curvy slouched, and his body made this lithe silhouette, like some kinda fucking sexy jungle cat but not in furry-sexy way. He was staring down at Dean with this - this look - his mouth was just curling up the tiniest bit at the corners and his eyes were kinda bright and his whole face just sorta... burned, like a smoldering coal just for Dean and it made Dean warm in his chest and his flushed face and his hands tingled.

"Hey," Dean said, "Hey. I'm gonna ask you something really gayballs, okay? But I'm still straight."

Cas chuckled, and it was a low, dry husky noise. "Okay. What is it?"

Dean swallowed. "Would you... quit for me?"

The corners of his mouth shrank. "Quit what?"

Dean could knew that he shouldn't do this but he plowed on ahead. "The hard stuff. Whatever stuff you do. Not alcohol, or cigarettes, but the other stuff. Cuz I worry about you, and I want Sam to come live here, and he can't be around... you know... people like that."

Cas was quiet for a while, and his face was very blank, and Dean got worried because fuck, he'd blown it, now Cas was gonna get all pissed and tell Dean to go die in a fire and he'd deserve it, wouldn't it he, for getting in Castiel's business.

But then he met Dean's eyes again, and he didn't look pissed. "Okay," he said. "But only because I like you."

Dean huffed in relief. "Thanks. 'Preciate it." Then he reached up and tugged on Cas's arm and said, "Get on down here, c'mon, hug it out, it's the Gayballs Hour so get down here and cuddle 'fore I get sober."

So Cas laid down next to Dean and Dean pulled the blankets around them and rolled over onto his side, so he could lay his head on Cas's shoulder and play with the buttons on the collar of Cas's long underwear and gingerly touch the roughness of the stubble on his neck.

"Sometimes I forget," Dean said softly. "I forget what it's like to not be alone."

"Me too," Cas admitted. "But sometimes being not-alone makes the aloneness more real, so you have to... forget sometimes."

"Don't tell anyone about this," Dean whispered. "I don't want anyone to know."

Cas reached up the arm that was pinned under Dean, jostling his head, and readjusted so he could gently stroke his fingers through Dean's hair. "It's okay, Dean. I won't tell. And even if I did..." He chuckled. "I'm the neighborhood crazy. No one would believe me."

Dean laughed. "That's so true." He closed his eyes and let Cas stroke his hair.

And then the gears started turning in his drunken mind.

Cas wouldn't tell, would he? He didn't know anybody except Dean. And if he did call up Jeff and say Jeff guess what I snuggled with Dean Winchester and he didn't even try and stop me, well then Jeff would call up Dean and say Dean, I ran into your nutso neighbor and you won't believe the outrageous lies he told me, you should be careful of that guy. As long as Dean kept his trap shut, nobody had to know anything.

Dean could do anything he wanted and nobody would find out.

He could do anything he wanted.

So Dean sat up a little.

Cas smiled up at him. "What?"

And Dean bent down and kissed him there was no fucking tomorrow.