Destiel One-Shots

Self-Induced Pain and Suffering (and Totally Unnecessary)

Third Person POV
   The first time Dean Winchester realized that he might have more than just brotherly feelings toward his best friend was when he was sitting in his room, beer bottle held loosely in his fingers as he stared at Cas, who was laid flat on his back on the floor and humming 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door' so badly and out of tune that Dean was impressed he even recognized the song at all. A soft smile had curved the corners of his lips upward as Cas's awful rendition of the song was cut off by an abrupt fit of laughter, which included a rather unattractive snort from the man. It only intensified as Cas opened his shocking blue eyes and met his own green ones.

   The second time, Dean had been cleaning his house, which actually meant he was wearing nothing but boxers with his robe slung over his shoulders and passionately lip syncing Metallica into the handle of the broom he held while sliding around his hardwood flooring in the fuzzy socks he most definitely didn't own. He was startled by the sound of the front door opening, and as his eyes settled on Cas's amused form, his feet slid out from under him and he crashed to the floor. Or well, he would've done that had Cas not moved with almost super human speed and caught him right before his ass connected painfully with the hardwood. Once again, blue eyes met green, and with the feeling of his best friend's strong arms wrapped snuggly around his upper body, Dean felt himself melt. Only slightly.

   The third time, the pair was out "exploring the world" as Cas put it. What they were actually doing was sitting on their usual bench at the park a few blocks down from Dean's place, matching sunglasses in place, as they not-so-subtlety people-watched. The two would make up outrageous stories for every person they saw, often leaving them in fits of uncontrollable laughter which always dissolved into stray giggles cropping up here and there mid-conversation. This was such a time. Dean had his right arm wrapped around his middle as his stomach ached from laughter. Cas was in no better shape beside him. Eventually, they got themselves together and sat up, mirthful eyes meeting behind dark sunglasses. As Cas gave Dean a dazzling smile, he felt his stomach flip and a warm tingle shoot through his body. He always had loved those smiles.

   And the fourth time was a week ago. They say across from each other in the small cafe booth that they frequented more than either would care to admit. The cozy atmosphere was warm to match the mid-summer afternoon playing out on the other side of the glass window beside them. Dean looked across the table as Cas chuckled at something. His inquisitive eyes met Cas's and that's when he felt the entire universe shift around him. That's when he knew.

Son of a bitch.

Dean's POV
   My guts twist painfully in my stomach as I watch Cas and her from across the semi-crowded bar. He had offered to go get the next round of drinks, and as soon as he got to the counter she had pounced. I have no idea who she is, but I hate her already. All long brown hair, feminine curves in all the right places, and low cut top. Sam snorts into his nearly empty beer bottle beside me. My head whips around to face him. "What?" I snap. He merely shakes his head as his eyes flick quickly over to Cas again.

   "Dude, you gotta say something. This is getting painful just to watch." I narrow my eyes at my abnormally large brother. When I raise my eyebrows inquiringly, he rolls his eyes. "Really, Dean? You think I haven't noticed? You're my brother. I'm not stupid." My face falls blank as I continue to stare at him. Of course, I know what he's talking about. At least, I think I do. What I don't know, however, is how he knows. I haven't told a single soul about my revelation regarding my feelings for Cas. And I had never planned to, either. When Sam meets my gaze again after draining the last of his drink, he raises his eyebrows.

   "Oh, come on. It's obvious you're in love with the man." He gestures toward where Cas is, mystery woman now running her long nails over his bare arm. I frown. "I don't know what you're talking about." I grunt, turning back around so I'm not watching the atrocity happening on the other side of the room. Instead, I'm met with my baby brother's classic bitchface. "What?!" I snap again. He huffs out a breath and shifts his face into a glare. I've been on the receiving end of these looks way too often in my life.