not to be “that person who stares at gifs and makes a weird whining noise in the back of their throat all day” but
I’m kinda suffering
A LOT
So here’s some gifs to drag you all down with me
You know if you feel like watching Dean quietly implode via his hand on a loop all day
I hate them
so fucking much
fuck you Dean do you see this side by side of how fucking clingy you are
like fuck them
or better yet go fucking get a room
I mean in the grand scheme Dean made Cas a mixtape so I can’t even be bothered to gif this myself but I figured I should come back here because they won’t fucking stop
Please pay particular attention to the way their hands join thumb to finger as if completing a loop, a sort of symmetry in their touch, and the way Dean slows his hand and stops pulling it away as Cas’s hand reaches for him so their fingers and thumbs can connect so neatly
(And how Cas is already behaving way off usual but Dean still trusts him to DO this)
And and and so soon after Kelly took Cas’s hand to transfer the power to him and THAT was visually and obviously creating a connection and a power that flowed through touch
And I’m getting meta here on the post that was just my “presented without explanation but a lot of swearing” venting box but ARGH.
*grumble grumble grumble*
They’re… cartoons… and they won’t… STOP this fuckery.
Like, bonus Sam casual pat on the back, Scoob.
*sigh* me again.
I would like to take a moment - obviously this is slowed down noticeably in the 2nd - just to ruminate on how Dean’s touch goes gentle and relaxes his hand against Cas in that Soft™ way before he pulls his hand away.
Castiel had always known how he felt about Dean. Somehow he’d always been able to conceal it.
Not anymore. Castiel feels like he’ll burst if he doesn’t just say it. He’s only human now, after all.
He does say it, eventually. He makes use of all the knowledge he’s acquired and tells Dean how he feels over and over again.
It’s in Danish the first time. “jeg elsker dig” he murmurs as he accepts his mug of coffee.
The second time is a few days later when they’re on a case related to an Arab painter. “أحبك,” Castiel says, not looking up from the book he’s poring over.
He ends up saying the phrase more times than he can count.
“Ez hej te dikim”
It is not always “three simple words”.
“मैं तुमसे प्यार करता हूँ”
And he never says it in the one language that matters, the one language that Dean would understand.
“دوستت دارم”
Castiel will only learn later that he has severely underestimated Dean. He will only learn later when, one day, Dean turns to him and says, “You know I love you too, right?”
Sam is at the table in the kitchen, finishing his coffee and
picking at the last of his just-the-wrong-side-of-crispy bacon, when Dean comes
bounding into the kitchen. And he is bounding,
that’s the only word for it, except perhaps skipping
or – Sam would never say it out loud because it would absolutely guarantee An
All Original Dean Winchester Ass-Kicking™
– but Dean’s basically prancing.
“Mornin,’ Sammy,” he says, flashing a wide, toothy grin and making
a beeline for the coffeemaker. He’s just wearing his nasty-ass robe and there
are honest to god slippers on his
feet.
Sam stares at him. He frowns, looks over his shoulder in the
general direction of the front door, then back to Dean again. “Did you go out
last night?”
Dean frowns at him, starting to pour out his cup. “No? Why?”
“Uh, because,” Sam says. “You’ve got your I Just Got Lucky
face on.”
Then something completely unexpected happens. Dean blanches.
Sam’s confusion is only growing; this is not at all the
reaction he’s used to. Normally Dean can’t wait to divulge the gory details,
just to try and make him squirm. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t – what are you talking
about,” he sputters, his eyes wide and rather hunted. “This is, this is my, my normal face.”
“C’mon man. We’ve been living in each other’s pockets for a
couple decades here. I know that face.” Sam starts looking at him, really
looking, and then yep: there’s the shadow of a hickey, just peeking out from
the collar of his t-shirt.
Sam’s about to needle him about it when Cas comes into the
kitchen. “Good morning,” he says.
“Hey, morning Cas,” Sam says briefly, then looks back at
Dean. He’s intent on resuming his interrogation, but then he stops.
Dean’s looking at Cas with panicked eyes, and his face shifts
from white to red so fast it doesn’t even bother stopping at pink.
“What…” Sam starts, then he looks back at Cas, frowning.
Everything seems fine; he looks normal.
But then Sam notices that his tie is on backwards.
suddenly struck by a “we live in the same apartment building” au where dean gets on the elevator one day only to be sharing his ride with a super ruffled, blue eyed hottie (which he actually doesn’t find out until a minute later when the guy pushes his aviators up onto his head) and wears a sweet leather jacket and probably rides a motorcycle if the helmet he’s carrying with him is anything to go by
and dean is fucking /flustered/ oh my god could you imagine him trying to like, sneakily check out his elevator mate while elevator mate has a slight smirk on his face bc HE KNOWS dean is totally checking him out of course he is
they get out of the elevator and go their separate ways and then dean starts freaking out because their building is fucking tall and he has no idea who this guy is or what floor he’s on and he’s like what if I never see blue leather motorcycle again???!? so in a move sam politely calls a “fucking terrible idea” and charlie deems “totally not creepy at all, of course not dude”, dean takes to riding the elevator in his free time, trying to catch blue leather motorcycle so he can at least get a name, yknow?? it’s his free time he can do whatever he wants with it, thank you very much sam.
The first night after Castiel joins them, Dean sleeps for hours. This isn’t like him, Benny says . Usually Dean’s a light sleeper and they never stay in one place this long. He must be tired, Castiel says, and Benny just grunts. They stay close and watch over him as he rests.
