Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dean sighed in absolute contentment as he stretched out on the bed. It was Heaven, true, so it was obviously going to be super comfortable, but this mattress seemed like it went the extra mile and then some. The sheets shifted underneath him as he shimmied around, trying to find the most perfect spot in the sea of perfection. It only took a few seconds, then he let out another sigh. Everything was just so damn… heavenly.

Mind you, a big chunk of the perfection came, not from being in Heaven itself, but from the company. He patted the empty half of the bed when Cas came into the bedroom they shared.

It had been lots of tears and hugs and hesitant kisses then not so hesitant kisses then wild sex when Dean had first arrived, then more tears as they met back up with their deceased friends (after multiple showers, since they insisted on taking them, together) Of course, it was a full on chick flick drama cry fest when Sam had finally shown up having thankfully lived a long and white picket fence-y life with Eileen as he’d always wanted, then a bunch more tears when she’d popped in what only felt like a few hours, but was really almost five years, later. As exhausting as the waterworks had felt, even though they were all kind of technically dead (not counting any angels and/or nephilim that had been involved in any of this), the most annoying part for Dean was the looks everybody gave him and Cas. The knowing looks. The I told you so looks. Especially from Sam.

Dean could only hear “I knew it!” shouted loudly so many times before he legitimately felt like screaming, which was why he and Cas were currently in their little ‘honeymoon’ cottage right now instead of partying with all the people that had been separated from death by them for so very long.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer something fancier?” Cas asked as he held up the two bottles of beer he’d grabbed from the kitchen. “We could have anything we want, like Jack explained,” he reminded the former hunter, tilting his head in that way that Dean would never get tired of.

He chuckled as he beckoned the angel closer. “I don’t care about the price tag,” Dean said, pulling Cas down onto the bed when he was close enough. “This was always our favorite beer.” He said it as if that made everything completely obvious, which, actually, it did.

Cas leaned over to Kiss Dean lightly on the lips as he handed over the bottle. Then he settled in next to Dean, taking nowhere near as long luxuriating in the sumptuous Heaven bed as Dean had but still managing to look much more comfortably satisfied. “I never thought I would be able to have this,” Cas admitted wistfully.

Dean left his long sought for very slightly more comfy than the rest of the perfect bed to snuggle in closer to Cas. “I wish I’d known that you wanted this earlier,” Dean said, ignoring his perfect temperature beer to nuzzle into Cas’ neck. “I wish that we’d known all this before.”

Cas placed a reverent kiss on the top of Dean’s head. “We have it now, at least. And we have it forever.”

Dean let out one more bliss-filled sigh. “And it still probably won’t be enough,” he quipped, trying, and failing, to not sound like the kind of character that Ryan Gosling would play in the movie.

Cas let out a soft, amused snort. “You have no idea what eternity actually feels like, Dean.”

“Then show me,” Dean replied, and the only reason the beers weren’t spilled all over the bed and their tossed off clothing was Heaven magic. And forever would never be enough, not by a long shot.

Chapter Text

“I’m going to really miss this place,” Castiel said as he looked at the empty living room, a few stray boxes the only thing left of a life lived happily.

“I really am sorry,” Dean said, walking up behind his husband.

“No, don’t get into that again, Dean,” Castiel responded immediately. “This professorship is what you’ve always dreamed of, so I don’t mind in the slightest that we have to move halfway across the country for you to take it.”

Dean pecked Castiel on the cheek. “Yeah, I know, I know. I just feel guilty sometimes, cuz I know how much you loved this place.”

“I can plant another garden in our new home, Dean,” Castiel explained once again, having had this same conversation over and over again since Dean got hired three months ago. “And we can make new memories in our new home.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, propping his head on Castiel’s shoulder. “They just won’t be about our babies growing up. Remember when Claire went through her daredevil phase, and we had to ban her from using the staircase for anything other than going up and down the normal way?” Dean said, chuckling as he pointed to the banner and its multiple dings and gouges, the signs of being replaced obvious on five different spires.

Castiel smiled at the memory. “I’m still amazed she only ended up in the hospital twice. Thank god it was only a concussion the first time and a broken arm the second.”

“It was almost two heart attacks each time, though.” Dean grinned, because at the time he really had felt like his heart was going to stop as they had to rush their blonde seven year old to the hospital both times, fearing the worst.

“It’s a good thing Jack was never dumb enough to try to copy his older sister. Though when we caught him in the driveway making out with his first boyfriend, you’d’ve thought he was the one having the heart attack.” Dean laughed at the image forever seared into his brain. Twelve year old Jack, pulling away from the boy down the street, deer in headlights look on his face.

“He should’ve known we’d never punish him for something like that,” Castiel said, his finger motioning between the two of them.

“And that’d we’d never tell on them,” Dean added. “That poor kid’s parents would’ve gone apeshit at just the thought.”

“And how they both looked so uncomfortable at your impromptu sex ed lesson!” Castiel laughed, almost as hard as he had when it really happened.

Dean laughed as well. “They should just be thankful we didn't have any bananas in the house that day!”

They leaned against each other, holding themselves up as they laughed until they could barely breathe.

“I’m gonna really miss this place too, Cas,” Dean said softly, once he could properly breathe again. “We’ll just have to drag those two home from college whenever we can, to make new hilarious memories at the new place.”

“Just as long as you don’t try to teach Claire to cook again,” Castiel pointed out.

“God no,” Dean all but yelped. “Never again. Apple pies should never have to suffer like that, ever again. And the stove stunk for at least five months, no matter what I used to clean it.” They both smiled, living in the past for just a few more moments.

“Sam’s gonna be here with the moving truck any minute, so we better finish up,” Dean said sadly. “You good?”

Castiel took one last look, seeing the front room filled with furniture and warmth, a Christmas tree with presents underneath it as two children went after the wrapping paper like they were never going to get to the toys underneath. He glanced at the kitchen, Thanksgiving dinner being pulled out of the oven, cookies being made, Jack proudly holding up his perfect apple pie as Claire sulked in the corner, stuck on peeling duty thanks to the last time she was allowed near the oven. The dining room, birthday cakes with candles lit, covered in mess after mess as holidays and play dates and crafts spread out the entire length of the table. The bedrooms upstairs, the noise of rowdy kids and loud music still echoing off the walls, the little notches on the door frame to the bathroom labeled with Claire and Jack, with two near the top labeled Dean and Castiel because Jack had insisted that they be measured too. The backyard as the sprinklers went back and forth with children jumping through the spray, the garden that was Castiel’s favorite hobby, flowers and herbs gone but only for the winter.

All of these images flashed past as Castiel took one last look around. Twenty five years in this place, and so many memories. He made sure to pack every last one of them tightly in his mind, so that they would never leave him, no matter how far away he went.

“Yes,” Castiel finally answered. “I’m good. Let’s go.”

“To endings and new beginnings,” Dean said, as if he were toasting the house.

“Goodbye,” Castiel whispered as he followed Dean out the door. And even though it was just an inanimate object, it almost felt like the house said goodbye back.

Chapter Text

“I’ve already checked that one,” Dean said as he walked into the bunker’s map room. He pointed at the newspaper Sam was staring intently at. “Nothing freaky deaky-er than a really big pumpkin some old guy grew in his garden that won a prize.” Dean took a thoughtful sip of his steaming mug of coffee. “I wonder if that’d make the pies taste different, it being so weirdly big?”

Sam let out an amused snort at his brother’s never ending pie addiction. “I’m not reading it, I’m doing the crossword puzzle.” He held up his pen to illustrate.

“Even your hobbies are geeky,” Dean teased his little brother. “Those things always have clues that you need a freaking history degree or something to figure out,” he complained, but he sat down next to Sam anyway.

“Some of them do, but this one’s not like that.” Sam scanned the list of clues before stopping on one. “Like this one you’d definitely know. ‘Famous mobster family in the Star Wars series,’ three letters.”

“‘Hut,’ duh,” Dean answered immediately. “I thought these things were supposed to be hard.”

“Some are, some aren’t,” Sam said with a shrug. “Like this one.” He pointed to a row of blank letter boxes. “It’s been annoying me, because I really don’t want to cheat by looking it up.”

“It’s only five letters, it can’t be that hard,” Dean pointed out.

“‘Grocery list item from the superfamily Apoidea,’” Sam read out, looking as confused as Dean.

Cas, on the other hand, wasn’t confused at all. Carrying his own steaming mug of coffee, the angel answered as he walked into the map room right as Sam was reading the clue. “‘Honey,’” he said, as if it were beyond obvious.

Dean, without even thinking, responded with his usual response to Cas calling him a pet name. “Yeah, babe?”

The room was silent for a few seconds, before Dean realized what he’d just done, and for Sam to realize what had just happened. “Wait…” the taller Winchester said. “Are you guys dating?” He started laughing as he figured out the answer to his own question by how much Dean was blushing.

“No,” Dean pouted, but it only made Sam laugh even harder.

“I knew it!” Sam shouted. “I gotta text Crowley, he just lost the bet!” Still laughing like it was the most hilarious thing to ever happen in all existence, Sam grabbed his phone and started furiously typing before he even left the room.

By this time, Dean was an impossible shade of red, and slowly sinking in his chair as if to hide under the table. “This was why I didn’t wanna tell him,” he muttered sulkily.

Cas stared after Sam, tilting his head. “At least we don’t have to hide our affections any more,” the angel pointed out.

Dean stopped his sliding act, an evil smile on his face. “Yeah, we don’t now, do we?”

“Dean?” Cas asked, worried at his boyfriend’s expression.

“Revenge, Cas, revenge,” Dean informed him. “Remember when I said we couldn’t have sex in the Impala in case he noticed something off?”

Cas smiled, seeing exactly where this was going. Without a word, they both stood up and hurried towards the parking garage, their coffee mugs long forgotten. “We should have told Sam years ago,” Cas said as they walked excitedly. Dean laughed, his earlier embarrassment so far gone it was like it never happened.

“Make sure to leave a hand print in the fogged up window,” Dean pointed out. “He loved that stupid movie, and maybe this’ll ruin it for him.”

“And leave your underwear under the seat?” Cas suggested, which only made Dean laugh louder.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” he said, grabbing Cas’ hand. “C’mon.”

And Sam would never look at a crossword puzzle the same way again.

Chapter Text

Castiel was in the library, reading a book from the Men of Letters’ collection that was in one of the few dead languages that Sam couldn’t translate, when he heard Dean shouting in pain from the kitchen, “Son of a bitch!” The angel rushed in, knowing full well just how many ways there were in the bunker’s industrial kitchen that could really hurt a human.

“Fucking, fuck…” Dean was holding his hand, a spilled baking pan and a ruined pie scattered on the floor next to him. “Fuck, that stung.”

“Dean?” Castiel automatically reached for the burn already flaming on Dean’s skin, grace at the ready. “What happened?”

“Stupid oven mitt had a hole in it,” Dean complained as the grace did its healing work. He nudged one boot at the floor pie sadly. “That was gonna taste so good,” he said wistfully.

“Sorry,” Castiel replied awkwardly, not sure if there was anything else he could do, now that he was done healing Dean’s burn.

“Eh, I can just buy one later,” Dean said, though Castiel could tell that he was still definitely disappointed. They stood there awkwardly for a few moments, before Dean abruptly changed the subject. “How does that work, anyway? Your angel mojo healing trick?”

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion for a few seconds, before he caught up with what exactly Dean was asking him. “Well, with most people the grace goes where the body knows that it’s needed. The human body knows itself a lot better than I ever could, so it directs my power as necessary.”

Dean gave him a look that Castiel couldn’t quite decipher, before pulling out a chair from the small table and sitting down. He gestured for Castiel to sit as well, and waited until he was before asking, “Most people? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Castiel blushed, without understanding why, as he admitted, “With you, it’s different.”

“Why?” Dean asked, wearing that inscrutable expression again. It looked as if he wanted to ask something different, but also didn’t want to ask it. The angel had seen this expression before, especially on Dean, but he still didn’t understand it.

“With you,” Castiel started hesitantly. He paused, trying to gather his thoughts together to explain this properly. “When I brought your soul back from hell...”

“‘Gripped me tight and raised me from perdition,’ yeah, I remember that part,” Dean teased. At least that Castiel understood well, since Dean did it so often. He still made a face at the hunter, though, as this was a bit reminiscent of their usual banter.

“When I brought you back,” Castiel repeated, raising an eyebrow at Dean to let him know that he wouldn’t allow interruptions this time. “Your body had been destroyed by the hell hounds before sitting in a coffin for four months, so I had to… remake it, almost from scratch.”

“You missed a bunch of scars,” Dean pointed out, still in a lightly teasing tone.

“They were from things done to you, not part of your soul, so I decided they weren’t necessary,” Castiel pointed out.

“I’m all filled back up again, though, so don’t worry too much,” Dean said with a laugh, pulling the neck of his t-shirt aside to show off the upper beginnings of his scar collection.

“Dean,” Castiel said sternly, rolling his eyes as Dean let go of his collar and settled back to look more like he was behaving. “I didn’t see a point in recreating your marred flesh, so I didn’t. But that’s not the point.”

Dean held his hands up in surrender at Castiel’s glare, showing that it was safe for the angel to continue.

“I had to remake almost every part of your body, Dean,” Castiel explained. “And I had to do it by using what I could from your soul. Everything that you were, and are, and could be was stored in there, and I had to dig very deeply to find everything I needed to know.”

“Sounds invasive,” Dean commented, but immediately went back to being quiet and listening at one look from Castiel.

“I had to know you before I could recreate you,” Castiel said, remembering what it had been like, seeing the very being of the hunter sitting in front of him, no barriers, just soul to grace. He blushed again, but this he knew was from what he’d been thinking about. “So now, when I heal you with my grace, it… knows without your body needing to tell it. It’s already been there, already constructed it atom by atom. I will never forget that, will never forget even a single piece of your body, Dean.” Castiel could feel his blush deepening as he spoke, knowing that it was all coming out sounding wrong, but it was like the words were speaking themselves.

Castiel hadn’t been looking at him during that last part of the explanation, and Dean’s expression had changed from playful to impressed. No, not impressed, more… awe?

“That’s really, umm, deep, Cas,” Dean said, sounding like he was struggling with his words.

“I will always be a part of you, as you will always be a part of me,” Castiel finished, softly.

Dean was now blushing as well, which did things to Castiel’s insides that he didn’t have names for, which was even more impressive when an angel knew every language ever known to mankind as well as all the rest. Or at least, he didn’t know what words to use to describe it. Before he could overthink it, Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand from the table. He was going by instinct now, because it apparently knew more than he did.

“So,” Castiel said slowly, turning Dean’s hand over to show the patch of skin where the burn had been, “when I heal you, I already know where to send it because I know you so well.”

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean answered nervously. Only now were his reactions making sense to Castiel, now that he was holding Dean's hand.

The angel, all but praying to his Father that he was guessing right, that what Dean was feeling, what Castiel himself was feeling…

Castiel ran his finger up Dean’s wrist, following with his other hand, farther up Dean’s arm. “I know everything about your body, from putting it together,” Castiel said softly, trailing his fingers along Dean’s arm. “At least I thought I knew everything about it, about you,” he trailed off.

Dean’s breathing was ragged, his skin flushed to a deep crimson. “Do you… do you want to know more?”

“Do you?” Castiel asked, his face close to Dean’s now, his brain and actions doing things he didn’t even know about yesterday. Or things that he didn’t know he knew. And at Dean’s slight nod, Castiel listened to the parts of him that knew better. He leaned in closer, until his lips were barely touching Dean’s. He pressed in, reveling in the texture, the taste of apple pie filling that Dean must have been sampling as he baked. For something Castiel hadn’t known he wanted, he wasn’t sure he could live without it now, because Dean’s lips pressed back, and his arms wrapped around the angel, pulling him in closer as they wormed their way under Castiel’s trenchcoat.

Physical attraction, physical acts of said attraction, had never seemed like they’d mean much to Castiel, but he was struggling to breathe even though he didn’t need to, as he opened his mouth further, exploring Dean’s as his was explored in return. He landed in Dean’s lap, feeling what could only be Dean’s physical attraction to him. There were wants, needs, desires, that Castiel felt, and he wanted to indulge in every single one of them.

“I’ve wanted you, Cas,” Dean breathed onto Castiel’s neck, in between lips and teeth and tongue.

“I never knew I wanted this,” Castiel said in a gasp. “But now that I know, I know I wanted this, you, from that first moment,” he said in a sigh as he felt the hunter’s hands on his heated flesh.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean let out in a whimper as Castiel started to move in Dean’s lap, causing the most agonizingly beautiful friction. “Want you so fucking hard right now,” he moaned.

“Your soul,” Castiel grunted, his body and Dean’s moving in a rhythm that was bringing them both closer to an edge that the angel had more reason than ever to want. “It was… your soul…” He panted as each thrust brought him closer to that soul. He could feel Dean’s soul now, feel his grace reaching out to it as it reached for him. “From that first glance,” Castiel stuttered out, the pleasure starting to short circuit his brain, but he wanted to get this out first. He wanted Dean to know just what he meant. “I fell in love with you, then, your soul and you,” he finally managed, before losing himself to the frantic movements that were filling his every sense now.

Dean paused for just a moment, before thrusting even harder than before, bringing them both together, so close. Just as Castiel felt he was about to burst, Dean arched himself up, shouting as he came, “Love you so fucking much, Cas!” The confession was more than Castiel had ever imagined, and he felt himself fall apart in Dean’s lap as the orgasm racked through his body, the connection between his grace and Dean’s soul shivering in a sort of completion, almost.

Dean’s body slumped underneath Castiel’s as the two fell back in the chair, boneless and sated in a way neither had ever felt before. It took a few minutes before Dean’s breathing slowed down enough to form coherent sentences, but when it did he grabbed one of the angel’s hands and squeezed. “I think I was in love with you before that barn,” Dean mumbled. “Just didn’t know what the hell it was I was feeling.”

“Your soul, I think,” Castiel said, sliding off of Dean even though every part of him objected to the loss of contact. “I think your soul fell in love when I did.” Dean slipped out of the chair and grabbed him by the face before kissing him, a deep, long, probing kiss like before, only slower.

“I think I like that idea,” Dean said softly, before kissing Castiel lightly on the nose. “It sounds just right.”

Chapter Text

“What in the hell were you thinking, Cas?” Dean yelled, not even bothering to wait until Sam was out of hearing range.

“Dean, I thought,” Castiel struggled to explain his motives behind helping Metatron, but the angry hunter wasn’t willing to wait for an answer.

“I mean, it’s bad enough that those Trials damn near killed Sam,” Dean continued, starting to anxiously pace the front room area of April’s apartment, “but then you go and actually die because of some bullshit line Metatron fed you?”

“I thought I would be helping, Dean,” Castiel replied, finally angry enough himself to meet Dean’s level of shouting. “I thought I would be saving everybody by locking Heaven. I had no way of knowing that Metatron was double crossing me the whole time.”

“Even if that dick bag hadn’t been lying the whole time, you were still risking your life,” Dean pointed out, his hands angrily waving in the air doing at least half of his talking by now. “Even if you are apparently a true Winchester now with the dying and coming back deal, if we hadn’t got here when we did, you might’ve bit the permanent big one. I’m not willing to lose you like that.” Dean finally calmed down for that final sentence, giving Castiel a painful pang in his heart at how vulnerable Dean sounded in that moment.

“But you were, and you had April bring me back,” Castiel reminded him, not paying attention at the guilty looking face Dean sported for all of five seconds. “I know you see me as family, Dean, as I do you and Sam, but if I had been able to truly save you and Sam and everybody else, I would have gladly died.” Castiel forced a smile, trying to convince Dean that he fully meant his words. The part where he’d sacrifice his life was completely honest, but being happy about it was definitely a stretch, especially since he still wasn’t entirely used to lying just yet.

“How the hell do you think that would’ve made me feel, though?” Dean asked, sounding as hurt as he looked now.

“Safe, I would assume,” Castiel told him. “And happy that Sam was, as well.” He’d been expecting an emotional reaction from the hunter, since he’d been all but officially included in the extended Winchester clan by now, but he could never have prepared himself from the heartbreak that visibly filled Dean.

“But you’d be dead,” Dean pointed out slowly. “How could I ever feel okay with you dead?”

Castiel paused for a few seconds, trying to figure out if he’d missed something in this conversation. Dean didn’t even look this broken when Sam offered to sacrifice his life, and his little brother was the thing he loved more than anything else that existed.

“You would eventually get over it,” Castiel replied stiffly. He knew that Dean still mourned his lost loved ones, like Ellen and Jo, but he didn’t let it interfere with protecting the world and his current loved ones.

“No, Cas, I wouldn’t,” Dean said softly.

“You would,” Castiel insisted. “In the grand scheme of things, Dean, I’m not really all that important.”

“But you are, damn it!” Dean shouted, grabbing Castiel’s hands in his like it was a lifeline. “You never fucking see that, but you’re super important, Cas.” He squeezed Castiel’s hands in his. “You’re important to me, Cas.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side, confused at Dean’s actions. They seemed too much, almost, too personal, for something like this. “Why?” he asked, “why am I important? I don’t even have my angelic powers any more.” Castiel paused as the truth fully blindsided him. “I’m not even useful to you now, so why am I so important?”

“Because I love you, dumb ass,” Dean said, before gasping in shock at what he’d just said. But before Castiel could figure out a response, or really even think, Dean pulled him closer. “Because I love you, Cas,” he said, as if it were a revelation. His face mirrored that revelation, and practically glowed with happiness. “I don’t want you to die cuz I love you, damn it.”

“Dean, I…” Castiel started to say, though he didn’t know how to finish, or even really start that sentence. But from the expectant, almost hopeful expression on Dean’s face, the angel knew he had to reply somehow. “I… yes, I mean… me too…” Before he could blink, Dean’s mouth was on his, and Castiel knew what to do in return now. He pulled Dean in closer and deepened their kiss.

They jumped apart a few moments later, only because they could hear the Impala’s horn honking all the way from the street.

“Rain check on the rest of that kiss?” Dean asked before they pulled apart completely.

“We need to talk about everything first,” Castiel reminded him, “but yes, afterwards. A rain check.”

Dean pecked a tiny kiss on Castiel’s cheek before heading quickly for the door. “C’mon,” he said, motioning with his head as he held out his hand. “Let’s go home, buddy.”

Chapter Text

“Next model’s ready,” Meg called into the studio as Castiel set up the specialized equipment he’d be using for this particular shoot.

“Thanks for the warning, Meg,” he called back over his shoulder. He fitted the lens into place, ready to take whatever photos the catalog company required of him. He hated these corporate gigs, but unlike his beloved nature photography, these things actually paid the bills.

Meg let out a wolf whistle before looking back through the doorway. “And he is gonna freaking destroy you, Clarence,” she teased. They’d been working together long enough for him to know that this kind of teasing meant that she actually liked him, no matter how annoying the nickname was.

Castiel glanced over, confused. “How’s he going to ‘destroy’ me?” He even went so far as to use air quotes. They could work together for decades before he would actually understand even half of the jokes she made, though. He tilted his head slightly as he waited for an answer.

“He. Is. Hot,” she explained slowly, as if she had to spell it out for him. “Just your type, too: cute and dumb.” She winked as he let out a frustrated sigh.

“I go on one, one date with a guy who said his favorite opera was Fievel Goes West, and I never hear the end of it,” Castiel grumbled, making sure it was loud enough for her to hear very clearly.

Meg just chuckled. “He was a fine specimen of man meat, you gotta admit,” she told him, waggling her eyebrows at him. “Such a great ass. I wish you’d’ve let me borrow him for a long weekend before you dumped him, though. I would’ve returned him in one piece. Mostly.” This time she laughed loudly.

Castiel rolled his eyes, but he at least gave her a small smile. He was about to recall all the filthy things they’d done in bed in the few weeks they’d been seeing each other, since the guy had only been insufficient in the intellectual areas, but he was at work, and he was supposed to at least pretend he was a professional. “You said the model was ready?” He asked Meg, giving her a glare to remind her to go back to pretending, as well.

“Right-o, boss man.” She punctured her words with a loose salute of some sort. “I’ll bring the new stud in in just a moment.” He’d lecture her about her choice of words, but she was already gone. At least she’d been professional-ish.

Castiel was looking through his camera lens, trying to find the best lighting for this backdrop, when he was interrupted by a pointed cough. “The lady said I can just leave the robe by the door, right?” The young man’s voice made Castiel internally wince. Not another clueless newbie. The agency was supposed to train everybody that came through before they were sent Castiel’s way, but he still ended up having to explain how the process went to at least half the new models, and this guy sounded clueless enough to make that fate all but inevitable now.

“Yeah, in one of the chairs,” he said with a well-concealed sigh, as he finally looked over at his newest improperly-taught responsibility. Castiel wasn’t able to conceal his gasp when the model turned around, though.

The man was in his late teens, maybe really early twenties, and looked like he’d been making the ladies swoon from birth. He had a classically beautiful face, almost as if he’d stepped out of a Renaissance painting at the museum and decided to try wearing underwear for a living. His body was sculpted in a way that didn’t look forced, like he hadn’t earned those lithe muscles anywhere as boring as a gym. He was golden all over, with a sprinkling of freckles that should’ve made him more cute than hot, yet they just seemed to turn the temperature up all the more. His light brown hair was spiky, in a way that made Castiel want to run his hands through it to see if it was soft under all that gel, and even from here, those impossibly green eyes sparkled with humor and intelligence.

It was definitely lust at first sight for the photographer, but those eyes made him curious enough about the man to want to know more. Castiel was frozen, could barely even breathe, because Meg had severely underestimated his reaction. He could feel his face blush, and was suddenly thankful that his side of the camera was usually difficult to see through because of all the set lights.

The spell broke when the model chuckled nervously. “Uh, I’m Dean,” he introduced himself, and Castiel had to forcibly shake himself out of his stupor.

The photographer coughed before speaking, in hopes that he might not squeak. He’d dated the talent before, sure, but only the ones that had come onto him first. He never wanted to be that sleazy jerk who lured models to his bedroom in hopes of getting better gigs. “You can call me Cas,” he finally stuttered out. Dean didn’t seem to notice his nervousness thanks to his own anxiety, which was now another thing Castiel was thankful for today. “The company told me the poses they wanted for this shoot,” he started to explain.

“No worries, they told them to me, too.” Dean smiled reassuringly at him, and it made Castiel’s heart thump uncomfortably in his chest. As if it wasn’t unfair enough that this Adonis existed at all, but now he had to be nice, too. Models were always so conceited and greedy that finding one that was pleasant was like finding a damn unicorn, so added to Dean’s looks…

“Good, I don’t have to teach you all the stuff you were already supposed to know,” Castiel said with a laugh, though after saying it he crossed his mental fingers that none of his bosses heard that. Insulting the teaching staff at the agency in front of the talent might actually be a fireable offense, and again, Castiel liked being capable of paying his rent.

Dean shrugged and smiled even bigger. “Not really that hard to learn, if you’re not an idiot,” Dean replied with an eye roll, then covered his mouth immediately. “Shit, I’m probably not supposed to call the other models idiots, am I?”

Castiel smiled, even though he knew Dean couldn’t see it. “You’re right about at least ninety percent of the people coming through here,” he reassured the nervous model. “But I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Dean visibly relaxed. “Oh, good. I really need this money to help pay for my kid brother’s college tuition. Stanford is freaking expensive.” He nodded as if agreeing with himself.

“Stanford? Really?” Castiel asked, impressed.

“Kid’s a total genius, had his pick of places,” Dean explained. “He only picked Stanford to be near me.”

“That’s nice of him.” Castiel smiled to himself this time. He wished any of his siblings were that nice. Or nice at all. He rolled his eyes at the thought.

“He just wants to mooch off my generosity,” Dean corrected him with a laugh. "He’d rather wrestle an alligator than do laundry or cook, so it was either near me, or near mom, and unlike her I don’t ask him a billion questions about his classes, his grades, his social life, his dating life, etcetera etcetera,” Dean finished, even mimicking a person talking nonstop with his hand.

Castiel couldn't help the laughter that Dean's explanation had elicited. "Honestly, I can completely understand where he's coming from," Castiel agreed. "Nothing can be as annoying as a kid's mother digging them for information. Especially on that dating life part."

Dean rolled his eyes. "He's her only chance for grandkids, so that makes her even worse sometimes." Just in case it wasn't obvious, Dean added, "Yanno, because I'm gay." He paused, as if he were still slightly worried about homophobic backlash from his confession even after being in the modeling world for more than ten minutes.

Castiel chuckled good naturedly, in hopes that it helped calm Dean down a little. "I'm gay too, so I know that song and dance just as well. But I'm lucky enough to have four heterosexual siblings, so the grandkid guilt trip is usually saved for the major holidays."

Dean laughed. "That's a big family. It's just me, Sammy, and my parents, so huge families seem like a foreign concept almost."

"I don't suggest it," Castiel said, trying not to think about growing out surrounded by so many siblings. "I have three other siblings of the non-straight variety, too, so Thanksgiving was insane every year, same with Christmas."

Dean's surprise showed not just on his face, but his whole body. He leaned forward, radiating amazement. "Holy crap, that must've been nuts growing up. Wow."

"I was one of the middle kids, too, so yeah." Castiel shrugged, even though Dean most likely couldn't see it.

"You deserve a medal for surviving that or something, seriously," Dean joked. "Or maybe an apartment halfway across the country."

Castiel chuckled at Dean's accidental accuracy. "I have the apartment already, and that's way better than any medal." He smiled again, fully aware that this was definitely the happiest he'd been in a while, especially considering he was at work.

Before Dean had a chance to respond, Meg poked her head in through the door. "You guys getting close to done? We got four more to go before we get to go home, and I got a hot date with Netflix and some leftover Chinese waiting for me, so the quicker the better."

Castiel swore under his breath as Dean blushed. "Yeah, we're getting there, Meg," he lied, shuffling some papers around to try and sound busy.

Meg gave him a look that obviously told him she knew he was lying, and that she knew exactly why. "Well, you guys have some fun, but make it quick so nobody gets too antsy, and I'll be back in a few." She winked at Castiel before closing the door, her expression far too smug for the photographer's liking.

"Shit, sorry about that," Dean apologized as soon as the door clicked shut.

"It was mostly my fault, so don't worry," Castiel assured him. "We can probably pull this off in just a few minutes, since you actually know what you're doing up there."

Dean nodded confidently. "Definitely, Cas. Let's go."

Castiel had been right about being able to finish the shoot in only a few minutes, since Dean handled everything like a seasoned pro. The last click of his shutter reminded him that it'd probably be quite some time before he'd be seeing Dean again, and Castiel couldn't help feeling sad. The initial lust had been replaced by a full on crush, and he knew he'd be missing the model for weeks at the very least.

"Well, that's it, then," Castiel said, trying to hide his regret. "You were amazing, Dean," he added, because he needed to congratulate the model for being that great at his job, and needed to pep himself up for the next person, too.

Dean blushed, and Castiel couldn't help but grin like an idiot at how adorable it was. "Thanks, I tried to do my best so you wouldn't get yelled at."

Castiel was struck silent for a moment. How was Dean this beyond perfect? "Thanks," he managed to say, blushing as hard as the model by now.

Dean looked really conflicted for a few moments, before obviously coming to a decision. "Hey, umm, Cas? Could you, err, can you come out for a sec?" He looked even more nervous now than he did when he first came in.

Castiel tilted his head in confusion, but walked over to the model anyway. Dean's eyes widened when he stepped out from the darkness surrounding the camera set up from this side, and Castiel could definitely hear the model whisper "Damn…"

And now Castiel felt just as nervous. "Yes, Dean?"

Blushing more than he had the entire time combined, Dean shuffled his feet. "I was just thinking, well, that I loved talking to you and all, and they, umm, there was never anything mentioned about dating being not allowed and all, and, well, I was thinking, maybe," Dean stuttered.

Castiel chuckled softly, knowing exactly where this was going and wanting to shout his response to the world. Instead, he nodded. "If you're asking me out, Dean, my answer is yes."

Dean let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god, I was regressing to high school there for a minute." He smiled in a way that made Castiel's heart flutter. "I'd give you my number, but these boxers don't really have a space to keep a phone or a pen or whatever."

Only then did Castiel remember that they'd spent this entire time with Dean in nothing but underwear. "Of course, of course, just lemme," he gestured vaguely to the area behind the camera where he kept his stuff. He rushed over to grab his phone while Dean grabbed his forgotten robe. Castiel handed him his phone, and Dean added his number to the contacts list.

"Can't wait," Dean told him.

"Well, I'm off after those last few models, if you want to grab drinks or dinner or something?" Castiel suggested.

"Hell yeah," Dean responded immediately. "Send me a text and I'm all yours."

Castiel actually let out a little 'eep' at Dean's wording, causing the model to laugh. "Now I really can't wait, Cas." Dean opened the door, and actually blew him a kiss before leaving.

Meg gave the model one last look as he walked past her. "So destroyed," she said to Castiel when Dean was out of earshot.

"Shut up," Castiel said, trying to suppress his blush.

"He's a good one, at least," Meg replied softly, sounding serious for once.

"Yeah, he is," Castiel agreed. He smiled happily at the thought of seeing him again in a few hours.

"But you are so destroyed," Meg added, laughing. Castiel just rolled his eyes.

Chapter Text

Movies always made high school reunions look way more interesting than this, Dean thought as he scanned the barely decorated gymnasium. It had been ten years since he’d been here, and the school really hadn’t changed a bit. It was both nostalgic and depressing at the same time, because this place had sucked when he went here, and it looked like it still did.

His old classmates, some he recognized but most he didn’t, milled around the punch bowl having random little conversations, but that was pretty much it. Yeah, he hadn’t been expecting some high school soap opera dramatics or anything, that stuff he knew only happened in movies. But at least there should be music or something, right? Or giving out pointless plastic awards for most successful or whatever? This was just flat out boring.

He’d hung out with his best friend Benny for a bit, but that hadn’t really been thrilling because they’d just hung out two weeks ago when Dean threw a barbecue for his family and friends, and the Cajun teddy bear and his wife had traveled all twenty minutes to get there. Seeing his ex, Lisa, had been nice, especially since he’d also got to learn everything there was to know about her awesome son, Ben. It had been an amicable break up, so there hadn’t been any awkwardness, but still, there were only so many cell phone pictures of a kid that a single guy could look at before they all blended together in his memory. He’d said hi to a few other people he remembered, polite chit about about basic topics, but those never really lasted for more than a minute or so.

Which left him standing near the bleachers, drink cup in hand and bored expression on his face. He should've at least brought his friend/almost-sister Jo as a not-date to keep him company, but he hadn’t, so now it was just him and his cell phone. Only, before he could pull out his phone to play some Candy Crush, he noticed a new couple walk through the doors. The woman with red hair he didn’t recognize at all, though she was interesting looking enough in her Legend of Zelda t-shirt that he was pretty sure they probably would’ve been friends, at the least. But the dark haired guy she was walking in with, him he definitely recognized.

It took everything in Dean to not blush and hide behind the bleachers as Castiel Novak, the nerdy guy Dean had crushed on for all four years of high school, walked in with his wife. Or maybe Red was just his girlfriend? Either way, underneath the embarrassment was definitely some regret.

He’d never actually tried for anything with Cas, because those same four years were spent in the closet because he was too worried about his homophobic dad’s reaction to having a bi son to actually come out. But oh, there had been some seriously pathetic pining going on, with lots of even more pathetic longing looks whenever Cas hadn’t been paying attention to him. Like now, while Cas and his redheaded companion were greeting a few of their former classmates.

“Shit,” Dean muttered under his breath when he was caught staring by the redhead, who then proceeded to whisper in Cas’ ear, who then proceeded to head in his direction, smile on his face. Dean was twenty eight. He was a grown ass adult. He was smooth, and suave, and not a high school kid anymore. So he should not be panicking about his super big crush coming over to talk to him. Suddenly, at this point he missed passing notes instead of having to face people head on.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas greeted, his gravelly voice deeper and sexier than ten years ago. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t bring Jo; she’d be teasing him for the next century for how he was acting right now.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean managed to say without sounding awkward. How fair was it that Cas had only gotten hotter as he aged? Because seriously, damn.

“It’s been a long time,” Cas said, starting the obligatory small talk portion of their evening. “I was hoping to run into you, actually.”

Wait, no, that’s not how the reunion small talk script goes. There was nothing about jobs or families or vacations. Nothing trivial and pointless at all. “Really?” Dean asked as a default response.

Cas ducked his head, possibly in embarrassment, which made Dean feel at least a little bit better about his current insane reactions. “I’d always wished we could’ve been friends, back in school,” Cas admitted. “You seemed so interesting, like we could’ve gotten along great, but you were kind of intimidating, too.”

Dean gawked for a few moments at what Cas had just said. “Intimidating?” Dean asked, while the rest of his brain was catching up.

“You had so many friends, I didn’t think you’d want to be bothered by some random guy,” Cas replied, looking a little sad at the admission.

“I would’ve loved to have been your friend, man,” Dean responded immediately, finally all caught up and actually a little amazed. “You totally should’ve said something.”

“I was really shy back then,” Cas explained. “And the only time you were alone was in the library, and I didn’t want to interrupt your reading.”

“For you, I would’ve used a bookmark,” Dean teased, and was happy when Cas smiled.

“I guess hindsight is always twenty twenty,” Cas said with a shrug. “Now I’m extra glad to have seen you.”

“Yeah, we should definitely catch up for lost time. Wanna hit up some food after this? Cuz trust me, those appetizers are not at all appetizing,” Dean joked, even though he was speaking the truth. He’d tried one of the little paste on a cracker things, and had to wash the taste out of his mouth after with three cups of weak punch.

Cas chuckled at his joke, which made Dean smile even more. Too bad Cas was obviously in a relationship. And possibly straight. Damn it.

“I’d love that,” Cas agreed, sneaking a quick look over to the empty area around the appetizer table. It was a very telling emptiness, especially since all three trays were still almost completely full this far into the reunion.

“Great,” Dean said, and meant it. He was apparently still crushing on the guy in front of him, but since he was taken Dean would gladly settle for a friendship. Cas had been that cool, and seemed to still be. He motioned to Cas’ date as she walked over to join them. “As soon as you’re done with all the excitement here, I can get us a table at The Roadhouse, and I can meet you and your wife there.”

Cas tilted his head in confusion as Dean said this. “Charlie isn’t my wife,” he explained.

“Girlfriend?” Dean asked, slightly confused himself now.

The Charlie in question walked up right in time for the punchline, and laughed loudly enough to startle Dean. “I’m not his girlfriend,” she said, still chuckling. “He’s as gay as I am, if not more.” She glanced between the two men for a few moments, taking a much longer time eyeing up Dean. “And he’s as single, too,” she said with a wink, before heading towards the appetizer table.

“Don’t,” Cas called after her, but she didn’t hear him.

“So you’re single? And gay?” Dean asked.

Cas blushed a tiny bit. “Yes?”

Dean grinned like a fool at his sudden stroke of amazingly good luck. “Wanna go on a date?”

Cas, wearing a pleased smile of his own now, raised one of his eyebrows at Dean. But only one. Dean made sure not to squeak at the hotness. “Are you asking me to go steady?” Cas teased.

Dean looked down at his feet. “Maybe?” He replied, trying to sound like a nervous school boy.

“Then yes, I’ll go on a date with you, Dean,” Cas said, amused now.

“I really should’ve asked that ten yeas ago,” Dean reprimanded himself, but Cas took hold of his hand and squeezed it.

“Better late than never,” he reminded Dean, and they smiled at each other like lovesick high school kids.

Before Dean could say anything else, though, they heard Charlie yelling from the unappetizing table. “Eww! Gross! How is that supposed to be food?” One more sappy look between them, and then they both burst out laughing.

Chapter Text

Castiel leaned closer to Dean. Of course he did. He always leaned closer to the hunter, pretty much since the very beginning. The angel was smart as all get out, but he still just flat out could not grasp any lesson Dean gave him about personal space, and why you weren’t supposed to be all up in it all the time. At least, he couldn’t grasp it where Dean was concerned; he didn’t lean in uncomfortably close to anybody else. Though it had actually stopped feeling uncomfortable long ago, not that Dean would ever admit it, not even to himself most days.

Which was why, on the day when Castiel started leaning in closer to Dean than he normally did, that probably actually meant something big.

“Cas, personal space,” Dean reminded the angel yet again.

“I know, Dean,” Cas answered, sounding frustrated. “I do keep moving away, but I keep finding myself right back where I began.”

Dean rolled his eyes, since this was definitely the lamest excuse yet for Cas’ leaning habit. “Have you maybe tried just not moving closer?” Dean asked sarcastically, trying his absolute hardest to ignore his little brother’s mostly silent giggles from the other side of the motel room.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas said, quickly moving to aggravated as he also moved closer to the eldest Winchester. “Don’t you think I already thought to try that?”

Sam’s giggles got slightly louder, though he still hadn’t turned around to actually watch the insanity that was Personal Space Fun Time Hour. At least the kid was smart like that, even if those giggles were really getting on Dean’s nerves.

“Try harder?” Dean suggested nonchalantly, shrugging before moving over to finish packing away his own belongings.

“Dean,” Cas said, louder this time. “I’m not doing this.” When Dean finally turned to look at Cas, he dropped his half-filled duffel bag on the bed and stared in disbelief.

The angel had been right; even though Cas wasn’t taking a single step, or flying, or anything even remotely normal for people like them, he was still sliding slowly closer. “What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, before turning around himself. “Cas, why are you gliding towards Dean without moving your feet?” He asked, dumbfounded. Dean knew that feeling well, right now.

“If he knew, don’t you think he’d clue us in?” Dean defended Cas immediately.

All this time, Castiel was watching in a mixture of fascination and horror as his feet drifted in Dean’s general direction at a snail’s pace. “Did you miss any hidden hex bags when you checked in?” he asked the brothers, since it was the most obvious place to start.

“No way,” Dean said at the same time Sam said, “Of course not.” The two glared at Cas, their hunters’ pride insulted.

“Okay,” Cas said in a monotone. “Then what are the other options? Somebody most likely would’ve noticed a spell being cast, not that I think there are any spells quite this…” He waved his hands around vaguely.

“Pointless yet annoying?” Dean asked.

“Something like that,” Cas agreed with a sigh in his voice. There was a soft thump as Cas’ leg hit the bed frame. “Maybe until we fix this, you could stand closer so that I can avoid potential injury?” he suggested. It had barely begun and he was already over it.

Sam covered his mouth to hide the worst of his laughter. “Dean being the one to move in closer to you,” he muttered, before returning to his barely concealed laughter.

“You will never understand just how much I hate you right now, Sammy,” Dean mumbled, but did as Cas had suggested and moved around to the other side of the bed. As soon as they were just a few feet apart, Cas stopped his weird new literal drifting. "Guess this means Cas gets shotgun on the way back to the bunker." Even though everything about their current predicament was serious, the angel still smirked a tiny bit, since Sam pretty much always got to sit in the front seat when he was there.

"You guys can snuggle the whole ride back," Sam teased, only to be met with Dean's middle finger.

"Putting Nair in your shampoo," Dean threatened playfully, or at least mostly playful. Dean had no idea what was going on, and he was getting frustrated, and Cas was probably just as frustrated if not more, and there was no telling how long they'd be actually stuck together, so his brother's teasing was not on his list of things he felt like dealing with right now. Some of that must've shown on his face, though, because Sam was quiet until they were in the Impala, on the way back to Lebanon. Then he had no choice in talking points, since Dean turned the stereo up as far as he could without actually bursting their eardrums.

Dean used the excuse of Cas having to walk right behind him to get out of having to carry their stuff in, but once the time had come for research, no matter how close the angel was, Dean couldn’t beg out of it. And since Sam kept giving him knowing, or at least guessing really good, looks, the hunter couldn’t even show how comfortable he felt with Cas’ chair pulled up so close to his.

The reality of the situation only hit about an hour after they started researching. “Fuck,” Dean muttered under his breath. “Cas, I hate to say this, but I gotta go to the bathroom.” Dean grimaced, trying to show his friend that he had really tried to avoid this.

“How is that a problem?” Cas asked, his head tilted in that confused look that Dean had always had unmentioned feelings about. “I can just follow you there.”

Sam snerked loudly, causing Dean to roll his eyes at his immature baby brother. “But you gotta stay close to me,” he said, already blushing in embarrassment.

“And?” Cas asked, making Dean sigh because he now knew he’d have to explain this.

“I gotta pee,” Dean tried to explain. “And you gotta stay next to me and all…” Dean trailed off. He had saved so many lives in his time, yet the universe had decided to pull this on him? How the hell was that even fair?

Cas continued to look confused for a few more moments, before his eyes widened, proving that he had just realized why Dean was so unhappy about their trip to the restroom. “Oh… I’ll just have to look away,” he suggested, which made Dean blush harder and caused Sam to snort again.

“Just,” Dean said, holding his hand up because he seriously didn’t know how to react to anything like this. He waved it around in annoyance, before standing up, Cas automatically at his side. “We’ll just never talk about this ever again,” he mumbled.

Peeing with Cas less than two feet away was probably the most uncomfortable he’d been around another person in his entire life. The angel faced away the entire time, and was even considerate enough to whistle loudly to cover up the sound. Dean was blushing so hard as he washed his hands that he could feel the heat coming off of his skin.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said softly as they walked back to the library.

“Not your fault, so no need to worry,” Dean told him. But when Cas actually bumped into him, Dean turned to explain that he seriously didn’t blame him for any of this, but the shocked look on the angel’s face showed that guilt wasn’t behind this.

“I can't go any further away,” Cas said, struggling anyway despite his words. His hip was pressed against Dean’s, and their arms were already tangled together.

“Okay, what the fuck,” Dean complained loudly. He joined Cas in trying to peel them apart, but absolutely nothing worked. “Seriously?”

Sam poked his head into the hallway at the noise. Instead of coming over to help, though, he looked like he yelped before rushing back into the library.

“Hey, a little help here?” Dean called after his brother. He and Cas managed to walk closer, but just barely. It wasn’t a three legged race yet, but it was definitely close.

Sam reappeared, looking sheepish and carrying one of their easier spell books. “I’m really sorry,” he said glumly as he reached the CasDean bundle. “I didn’t know it’d do this.”

The words smacked Dean in the face. “Wait, this is your fault?” He growled. Nair in the shampoo was tame compared to what he needed to do in revenge now.

“What was supposed to happen?” Cas asked when Sam motioned them to follow him. It took them at least twenty times as long as usual, but the three, or two by now, managed to make it to one of the Men of Letters' storage rooms.

“It said it was going to make it so you couldn’t deny how close you were, but I wasn’t expecting it to be literal,” Sam mumbled guiltily.

Dean glared at Sam as the non-attached part of Team Free Will gathered a few ingredients and what looked like a tiny statue. “You seriously cast a spell on me so I’d hafta admit that I liked Cas?” He asked, getting more upset by the second. “A spell you didn’t even know about how it worked? What the fuck, Sammy?”

Sam looked up at the Dean part of the pile, looking both guilty and pleased at the same time. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he replied, though didn’t sound anywhere near as sincere as he had earlier.

Dean rolled his eyes, until they ended up staring into Cas’. The angel looked confused again, but he could easily tell it was for something different this time. It wasn’t confusion over a spell or its effects, this was the personal issues brand. “What?” Dean asked, frustrated as all get out by now.

“Romantically?” Cas asked instead of explaining, and it was Dean’s turn for confusion.

It took far longer than he was proud to admit before Dean realized what he’d just blurted out to Sam. Shit. No choice but to answer, now. “Uhh, yes?”

Cas grinned at Dean’s answer. “I like you as well, then.”

“Really?” Dean couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas answered, his smile showing a hint of amusement now.

“Well, umm,” Dean mumbled, blushing for a different reason this time.

“If you could hold off your chick flick moment for a few more seconds, I can break this thing and escape so I don’t have to listen to it,” Sam said grumpily from the floor, spreading things around the little statue of two people hugging, from what Dean could tell. At least he was going to pretend the statue people were only hugging, since it was his brother that cast the spell.

“Hey, this is your fault,” Dean cheerfully reminded him. “Deal with it.”

It was actually closer to a minute, but Sam finally said the last words and the statue broke itself in half. Dean fell on the ground, not having realized he’d be leaning all his weight on Cas, but he helped Dean up without laughing, unlike Sam.

“I’m gonna kiss Cas now,” Dean warned his brother. “So I suggest you go hide for a few hours if you don’t want to watch. And maybe stay hidden for a few weeks, or until I’m willing to forgive you for that stupid spell.”

Dean chuckled at the sight of a 6’4" moose scrambling to get out of the room as fast as he could, and Cas joined him. When they were finally alone, after the sound of retreating hoof beats ended, Cas turned to look at Dean. “There was something mentioned about a kiss?”

Dean leaned into Cas’ personal space and smirked. “As many as you want.” Then he kissed Cas for all he was worth, which he probably should’ve been doing all along. If just because damn, could that angel kiss.

Chapter Text

So, I could use some thoughts and opinions about a decision I'm thinking of doing. When I started these fics, I had assumed that all the stories would end up around 600 words or so, usually less. But then I started getting some that were more than long enough to be a one shot, but nobody will see them unless they go through this collection thingie.

For a possible solution, I'm thinking of reposting them as solo fics, and gather them together in a series, instead. More people would see them, and maybe that would make me write more of them. I'd still leave this up, just won't add any of the new stories to it.

So basically, what do you guys think? Good idea? Bad idea? You can think of something that would work even better? I'm completely open to suggestions here. So?