normalkiwi
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“Alright,” Dean hummed, leaning forward to press a quick peck to Cas’ lips. “I will see you when you get back. Tell Claire hey for me.”
Cas swayed in the door, eyebrows knitted together. Dean arched an eyebrow, and Cas cleared his throat. “Right. Goodbye, Dean.”
The door clicked shut, and Dean shook his head fondly. Cas was a weird guy.
Bookmarked by normalkiwi
05 Apr 2025
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So, the first thing that happens is Castiel comes back.
~~~
"Right," Dean says eventually, gruffly. He looks down at his shoes. "I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life, man. It's—you know, yours. Do your thing, love who you love, whatever. I can't really stop you from loving me, if that's what you've decided to do, but I don't—I can't—"
"I know," Castiel murmurs, still just smiling a little, not looking heartbroken at all. "Don't worry about it, Dean, that's all I ask."
"So we're—" Dean risks a glance up, swallowing thickly. "We're good?"
Castiel hums. "We're good."
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Bookmarked by normalkiwi
04 Apr 2025
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Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.
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"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"
Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.
Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.
"What?" Dean grits out.
"I love you, too."
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Bookmarked by normalkiwi
04 Apr 2025
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Dean starts falling in love with him on a slow Sunday morning under slanted sunlight that slips through the gaps in the trees.
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"When did it stick for you? When did your six hundred Sundays start?" Dean asks.
"It never started," Castiel admits. "It simply never stopped. My love for you is eternal—existing forever, without a beginning or an end."
Visually, Castiel's love is a circle. Aurally, it's an echo. Kinesthetically, it's breathing. Overall, it is not fate, and it is not chance; it is choice. He would not choose differently if he could go back and do it again, and that's why he didn't choose differently from the start.
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Bookmarked by normalkiwi
03 Apr 2025
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Dean can't sleep. Cas offers to tire him out.
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Bookmarked by normalkiwi
29 Mar 2025