#it's not that unique of a line but it's enough of like a mood setter that i'm like okay this has def gone in my own fic before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dothwrites · 4 years

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spn advent calendar--angel

ahhhhh i’m so behind on these, i’m sorrrryyyyyyy =) have some light smut and humor to make up for it

{Read on Ao3}

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Of all Christmas tasks set before him, Castiel minds decorating the Christmas tree the least. It's the kind of repetitive task that he enjoys, one that has a clear beginning and end, and one where he can see the evidence of his progress with every step he takes. Not to mention that when Dean decorates, he hums Christmas music under his breath. Hearing Away in a Manger in Dean's low voice is one of the best rewards Castiel can think of.

Also, they're at Dean's place, which means, blessedly, no Gabriel.

Castiel might camp out here for days.

"Looking good babe," Dean mutters as he takes a step back. "There's an empty space over here; can you grab something to fill it up?"

Castiel reaches into the box and passes Dean an ornament. He's much more interested by the look of concentration twisting Dean's face into the tiniest pout. A thin line appears between Dean's eyebrows, like someone took a pencil and flicked it over the skin. His lower lips sticks out and, if he's thinking hard like he is right at this moment, his chin quivers just a little. As he watches the furrow between Dean's brows deepen, Castiel can see, with startling clarity, what Dean will look like in fifteen years.

It's a beautiful sight, and one that Castiel wants to see with all his heart.

So he doesn't roll his eyes when Dean tells him that he's put an ornament in the wrong place. He doesn't wrinkle his nose in disgust when Dean shows him an ornament that Sam and Jess brought back from a business trip to Salt Lake City (Look Cas, it's made out of salt! You can lick it! Lick it Cas, come on, lick it!). He doesn't comment when Dean goes and tweaks the branches to what he considers optimal angles.

In fact, the only thing that can break his mood is the monstrosity that Dean pulls out of the bottom of the box. Dean holds it aloft like he's starring in the shittiest remake of the Lion King. If he tries hard enough, Castiel can almost hear the swelling chorus as Dean holds up the tree-topper for his perusal. "Look at him," Dean breathes. His eyes are actually misty as he stares at the object in his hands.

It's an angel. But no regular angel with their vapid smiles and empty cornflower blue eyes and cheap blonde polyester hair. No, this is an angel that God looked at and thought better of, this is an angel who might have fallen with Lucifer but got put in the back of the picture lineup with a blurry Also Pictured caption to try and distance them from the rest of the team. This angel either got into too many fights or not enough, depending on how you look at the sneer on their face. This angel is a fan of bargain shopping at the Goodwill and considers $25 a steep price for a new suit.

The angel's gender is indeterminate, and Castiel's a fan of eradicating the superfluous binaries of society, but it's disturbing, because he can tell that the artist who designed this angel had a clear gender in mind when they placed the facial features on the tiny ceramic head. Castiel just can't figure out which gender was intended, which leaves the angel with an uncanny valley sort of ambiguity in their expressions.

Forget Elf on the Shelf. If this demon is going to be sitting in Dean's house for the rest of December, Castiel will donate money to any charity he can find, vacuum daily, and even give Gabriel whatever Gabriel's twisted little heart desires. That angel looks into his eyes and knows his sins.

"Look at him!" Dean says, as he brandishes the angel towards Castiel. Castiel takes an inoffensive step backwards, away from the meanly squinted eyes and goading leer.

"I am," Castiel says, carefully, because the last time he inadvertently insulted one of Dean's decorations it turned out to be a timeless, priceless relic from his mother. But surely, surely Mary Winchester would have had better taste than to put this monstrosity on her tree? "It's, ah...unique," Castiel says, trying for something diplomatic.

"Jo picked him up at a yard sale four years ago. He's the best." Dean has the shit-eating grin on his face that says he's perfectly aware of what he's doing. It invites Castiel in on the joke, and after so many years of being on the outside, he relishes the opportunity.

"And you kept him because...There's an ancient curse and when you picked it up it activated, thus ensuring that you were stuck with this creature until your untimely death?"

Dean's expression twists into something mingling confusion, exasperation, and fondness. "No, you weirdo. It's funny."

"It's funny. You think that horrific little thing is...funny?"

"Of course." Dean gives the angel a little threatening shake, which will undoubtedly haunt Castiel's nightmares for days to come. "Look at him." Dean takes his own advice and then looks at Castiel. Castiel very much distrusts the look dawning over Dean's face, and his doubts are validated when Dean says, "You know, he kind of looks like you."

Had Dean slapped him across the face, Castiel could not have been more offended or shocked. He looks from the angel's sneer, to Dean, and back again. Has his boyfriend, the man he loves, the man he contemplates raising children with one day, gone completely insane?

"You know," Dean says. His voice is a little too even, his face too impassive. As Castiel watches, the corner of his mouth wobbles and twitches. "You have the same, uh...the same eyes. And the same...the same nose. And he's an angel, and you're named after an angel, so...You're like twins."

By now, Dean's mouth is performing a series of fascinating contortions to remain stationary. Several hitching breaths puff out of his nose and as Castiel continues to stare, a strangled cough rasps out of his throat.

"Twins," Castiel finally says, and it's that single word that sends Dean in paroxysms of laughter.

Dean laughs a lot, but these laughs are Castiel's favorites--big belly laughs that come from deep within Dean, that leave him shaking and slapping at his thighs. He reaches out for Castiel, for balance or support, Castiel doesn't know, but it's nice either way. Dean wheezes and Castiel is surprised to see that there are actual tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "Ah Jesus, Cas," Dean chokes out around his laughter. "Come on. Put him on top of the tree. Make friends with him." Dean pushes the angel into Castiel's face, close enough that his eyes cross as he tries to keep eye contact with the gremlin.

"You're very lucky that I love you," Castiel owns, gingerly accepting the angel from Dean. Part of him wants to refuse, but he's too familiar with the look on Dean's face. This ends with either Castiel storming off, or Castiel putting the dreadful angel on top of the tree. Between the two of them, Castiel knows which one he would prefer.

He tries not to look at the angel as he stretches towards the top of the tree. He can't believe that he's going to have to look at this creature every time he comes to Dean's house over the next month. Between the angel at Dean's house and the Gabriel at his, Castiel doesn't know which is worse.

"Mm, that's it baby. Right up on top." Dean crowds behind him, hands on Castiel's hips. Presumably it's to steady him, but, as Dean's thumbs stroke over the thin sliver of skin revealed, Castiel suspects an ulterior motive. "Little bit farther...little more..." Dean turns his head to nuzzle in at Castiel's neck.

Despite the distractions, Castiel manages to place the angel close to the top of the tree. He rocks back to examine his handiwork, which is exactly what Dean wanted. His arms wrap around Castiel's chest, pulling him closer.

He places a series of careful nips down Castiel's neck, nosing underneath the collar of his shirt to the skin underneath. "Dean," Castiel pants, as Dean's nips grow a little more insistent, the wandering of his hands a little more purposeful. "Dean."

"Yeah?" Dean walks them backwards until they're toppling over on the couch in a tangle of limbs. Castiel is fairly certain that his elbow ends up in the vicinity of Dean's stomach, but Dean doesn't complain. Instead, Dean keeps on rolling until he has Castiel on top of him, hands sneaking under the waistband of Castiel's jeans to grope at skin. "What do you want?" Dean asks, craning his head upwards to nip at the column of Castiel's throat.

"To go somewhere else?" Castiel asks, even as his hips roll down into Dean's. "Somewhere that we're not being watched?"

"Aw, you don't like an audience?" Dean teases, working at Castiel's belt. "Don't like your twin seeing what you get up to?" He says that just as his hand works its way into Castiel's boxers and wraps around his half-hard dick.

"You--" Castiel gasps, bucking into Dean's grip, even as he glares down at him. "You can't think of a better mood setter?"

"Maybe after Christmas I won't even put it away," Dean teases, eyes sparkling wickedly as he works over Castiel. "Maybe I'll keep him in the bedroom. Right on the table." Dean kisses him, hot and insistent. His hand works faster now, its way eased by the precome Castiel is leaking. Dean pulls back, a wide grin on his face. "Maybe he can hold our lube!"

It's unfortunate that Dean knows which of his buttons to push. Unfortunate, because Dean chooses to push them all almost immediately after saying that horrific sentence. Helpless under the onslaught, Castiel comes into Dean's hand with a low, long groan.

Dean waits for a few seconds, long enough so that Castiel can catch his breath, and then he's grinning so wide his face threatens to split. "That what gets you hot?" he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Cas' mouth. "Angel holding our lube? Blessing our fornication? Is there an angel of fornication? Can we name our angel that?"

Dean's teasing stops when Castiel wraps a single, sure fist around him and starts stroking with purposeful motions. If Dean knows all of his buttons, then he knows all of Dean's, and it's not long before Dean is falling apart underneath him, turning his head to gasp his release into the arm of the couch.

"If you ever bring that hellish thing into our bedroom," Castiel says, punctuating his words with small kisses to Dean's cheeks and forehead, "I promise you that it will find a new home housed up your ass."

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The angel mysteriously is turned around to face the wall the next morning. Dean refuses to explain why, leaving Castiel to assume one of two conclusions:

1) The angel is actually possessed and will, in short order, make good on its plans to murder both him and Dean in a way that will leave law enforcement baffled for years to come,

2) Dean is actually a kind and caring individual who takes his wishes into account.

Dean is a kind, caring, compassionate partner who Castiel knows would walk through fire if he asked him to. But between the two options, Castiel's more willing to believe the former.

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#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #spnadventcalendar2019 #castiel #dean winchester #christmas fluff #dothwrites #i'm so far behind it's not even funny

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