The Shadows Of My Past (Destiel)

Chapter VIII: It's a Chateau Lafite.

The music was playing so quietly that Castiel had trouble hearing the words chanted by the rough male voice. He didn't know where exactly it was coming from, but considering the good quality and the fact that no radio station Cas programmed would play such a song told him that it was playing through his new boom box.

When Cas turned his head to look at his phone on the bedside table, he noticed that it wasn't playing the song which he could hear more clearly now. He nearly got a heart attack before he realized that there was another man in his appartment, a man that couldn't be more welcome here. A man Cas would give up everything for, because he simply was everything to him, even though it wasn't really two-sided.

Or so he had thought just recently. Castiel replayed last night's events, carefully and second for second so that he didn't miss a single word or look he received from Dean. He didn't know if he had to blame it on his alcohol intus or if it really happened, but he sure hoped it did. He remembered how Dean kissed his forehead, wishing him a good night and calling him an angel. Second one not because he was dressed like one, this he knew for sure.

Castiel groaned as he reached behind him, feeling the liquor-soaked wings. He was such a mess and he smelt like a brewery. He sat up way too fast, feeling the headache erupt behind his eyes and making black and white dots appear in his vision, forcing him to lay back down. He waited a few seconds before he could try it again, this time slowly and carefully. When he was finally able to stand, he was almost too surprised that he didn't throw up.

But he sure felt like it. His stomach contracted and his throat seemed to tighten, leaving a sick feeling in his mouth and on his tongue, a mixture of last night's alcohol and what he should've vomited into the toilet by now. But nothing. He shrugged, slowly walking to his bedroom door.

By the time he'd opened it and stood in front of the kitchen, the sick feeling was still there, although not because of the amount of alcohol he'd drunk last night, but because of a very different reason. This time, it was because of what he was seeing.

The quiet sounds of Led Zeppelin were played through Cas' speaker, making the man in front of the oven whip his head in tact with the drums. He was looking into the furnace, apparently waiting for something to bake, considering the lovely smell filling the room. The blinds were still closed so that not a shred of sunlight managed to sneak into the dimly lit kitchen.

But nothing of this was really the thing which made Castiel feel so weird. It was rather the fact that the man baking something, the man who didn't open the blinds because of Castiel's sensitive hangover-eyes, the man who was so considerate that he, although he wanted to listen to music, turned it down to the minimum, was wearing nothing but a pair of plaid sweatpants.

Castiel coughed awkwardly, not knowing how or when he should approach the man. Dean turned around, a look of happiness flashing through his eyes at the sight of the, still dressed up, teacher.

It didn't take five seconds until the shirtless man stood in front of Castiel, staring down at him with his, now green, love-filled eyes. Dean's hot skin brushed against Cas' beer soaked shirt and his lips were almost on the other man's, almost.

Without just a split of a second of hesitation, Dean leaned down, capturing Cas' baby pink lips with his own, tasting the sweet taste of vodka and sleep. The kiss was slow and passionate, as if they had known each other for years and knew exactly how careful and soft they liked it. Dean's hands travelled to Cas' neck, pulling him in even more, just to be as close to the astonishing beauty as he could. Castiel found his own hands in Dean's soft brown hair, letting his fingers drive through each strand.

After what seemed like an eternity yet was too short, Dean pulled back to admire the man standing in front of him, panting. "Good morning." Castiel looked at him, trying and failing to suppress his grin spreading across his face. "Mornin' Dean." The men looked at each other, letting in everything that had happened and led to this exact moment they were in right now.