Destiel One-Shots

Story Twenty-Four

A/N: Sorry it took so long, writer's block had hit me harder than ever. Hope y'all enjoy this.

Dean stared at his computer screen. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he tried to decide on the right words to type into the search bar.

He was trying to find a case, and had already tried weird deaths, strange deaths, unusual deaths, and unnatural deaths, but nothing sounded like their kind of gig.

Finally, he typed supernatural deaths into the bar and hit search. After a bit of scrolling, he came across a web page that listed all of the deaths in the Supernatural book series.

He huffed a laugh and clicked the link, thinking it might be fun to see everyone that had died up until he went to Hell.

He saw his name and Sam's more than once, his dad's name, Jessica's name, Bobby's name, the names of various demons, vamps, and other creatures. The sheer number of names didn't seem weird until he saw Castiel's name.

He hadn't known Castiel before he went to Hell, and Cas wasn't even mentioned in the series.

It seemed weird that a character never mentioned in the books would be on a list of characters that died in the books, so he typed Supernatural book series into the search bar.

It turned out that there was an official website, and when Dean clicked that link, his mouth dropped open in angry disbelief.

Chuck was publishing again.

He has published his last book just under six months ago, and the fanbase was growing to the point that people were writing "fanfiction," especially about certain "ships."

He found a number of stories where the ship was Dean/Sam, or "Wincest," which he refused to read. There were even more stories, though, about Dean/Castiel, or "Destiel."

He warily clicked a Destiel story entitled Heat of the Moment. He read it quickly and about halfway his eyes widened in horror at the very detailed and very gay "smut."

"Hello, Dean," came a voice from behind him.

Dean jumped at the sound of Castiel's voice.

"Nothing!" He blurted out, hurriedly closing the window. "Nothing."

Oh, Dean. (I'm sure that's how some of us react when someone walks in on us reading smut.) I don't have much to write right here, so this is Scarlett Oak, signing off. Don't forget to vote, and until next time, keep on keepin on.