"You and me against the world!"
John’s smile broke whatever argument he was warming up to. It was the smile he kept in a box, buried somewhere outside of his mind palace. A hunting memory that kept his sane for the last year fade each day. A reminder that maybe, just maybe what he did wasn’t worth it.
It’s a year since he last saw it across the doctor’s face but he could still feel it mocking him. A year since John moved on. No more flowers, no more drunken visits, no more accusations.
No more of John’s things at Baker Street
A year since John decided he couldn’t bear his hope die everyday waiting for that miracle, wishing for that miracle… begging for that one more miracle.
A year since John whispered goodbye with that same broken smile playing across his lips when the only answer he got is Sherlock’s black marble of shame staring back at him. Sherlock was there, he always was.
He was there when John was fired, with a bottle of cheap beer in hand. He was there beside John when John’s eyes felt heavy from crying that he ended up sleeping besides the stone, cradling it limply like it’s something fragile. He was there when John felt creative with his curses. He was also there when John blamed him for everything.
He was there when John silently said his I love you.
Sherlock was there whispering his first to the dark
Three years ago, Sherlock Holmes faked his death but John Watson did not. The detective came to life but the army doctor didn’t. He was dead inside that even adrenaline can’t fix it.
Let’s play a game called “I’m totally joking, but would do that in a heartbeat if you were into it”
Dean can’t help the moan that escapes his lips when Cas sucks his brains out of his dick while he fingers his self open.
He’s laying on his back with Cas pressed on top of him, ass hovering at Dean’s face. Dean can see it, how those pale fingers thrust in and out pulling the innerwalls slightly of Cas pink hole for view and he can’t help it, his dick twitches making Cas moan, his voice trembling around Dean’s hard shaft. Not long after Cas snaked the fourth digit inside his hole, he can feel his orgasm close so he braced his upper body with his elbow to lap slowly at Cas’ ass while the younger man work his fingers towards his prostate. The feel of Dean’s tongue thrusting with his finger was too much and soon cas was cumming all over Dean’s abdomen as he keeps bobbing his head earnestly bringing dean to his own completion.
When the post coital bliss pass them they lay cuddled in Dean’s large bed. They never do, but tonight John was with his engineering friends while his best friend’s busy getting fucked by his dad, John doesn’t know and Dean doesn’t plan on telling his son that he’s been boning his best friend for a year now.
Dean’s forty one, though for him is a number big enough to start thinking of death, he looks nothing like his age. He’s fit and beautiful, always was and always will. But Cas is eighteen and lately, he can’t help the guilt choke him when he looks at his own son just barely eighteen himself, talking about cheerleaders older than him by two years and not thirteen, when John talks about having dinner with his girlfriend’s parents and not having dinner with one of the parents, when he thinks about how John would react if he finds out. And the sick feeling keeps growing when Dean realizes he doesn’t want this to end. He’s falling too damn deep and he’s so fucking afraid it’ll be too late.
He’s happy despite it, and that makes it worse.
He can’t bring himself to think of not having Cas around him, sexually or not. He can’t imagine not having Cas pliant above or below him, not having those thighs wrapped around his waist, or those lithe hands around his neck. Not feeling that lean chest pressed against his and how those blue eyes look at him softly, warmly, and beautifully. And now that he knows the way Cas snuggles further to him, how Cas’ thigh is slung over his, how warm and fitting the younger boy is in his bed - A bed for lovers that’s been empty for far too long - how cas belongs in his arms, he doesn’t want it to stop.
Its far too much.
And he knows he needs to end it because its no longer only about sex.
Dean and sam goes home to a very human castiel and when they get to the bunker cas gives sam a full on hug while dean gets an awkward one arm hug cuz cas isnt sure if he can let go if he did and dean gets crazy jealous of sam and tries to shrug it off only to get moody and shit cuz he wants those hugs too and god damnit he’ll get those hug even if it means caging cas on the kitchen counter or pin him against the fridge
Couple shirt with a “I need you, capiche?” And the other shirt goes “yeah I capiche”
When cas saved dean from hell ot was because the man doesnt belong in the pit. But now cas couldnt save dean from belonging in there.
Cas saved Dean from hell believing that the man doesnt belong in the pit but now Cas couldnt save Dean from belonging there.
In a different perspective supernatural is a story about how an angel fell in every way imaginable to save a human but in the end the angel couldnt save the man from becoming the one thing that he tried keeping away from his brother, the one thing that made him suffer 40 years in hell, the one thing that killed everyone he loved, and the one thing that started this whole shebang.
And in the end he became what angel call enemy, a demon.