Supernatural Castiel x Dean '26 part 3' PG-NC17
Title: 26 part 3
Author: Akaré
Pairing: Castiel/ Dean
Rating: PG-NC17
Word Count: 5 x 100
Warnings/ Spoilers: Seasons 1 through 4. Blasphemy, voyeurism, John-bashing, violence, bondage, crack, character death... I think that’s it. And not beta-ed, there may be typos!
Disclaimer: No money changes hands. All Kripke’s. All hail.
Summary: A short, alphabetical collection of drabbles.



kitchen noun a room or an area in a building where food is prepared and cooked

The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

Castiel found that if the subject had claws and preternatural strength, this statement was often true. No worrying about bone in the way just in under the ribs and there you are- squashy, fragile, vital muscle beating in your hand.

Wendigos were capable of it, so were some ghosts, some demons. It was a ghost this time, juiced up on viagra Dean had claimed.

It was how Dean came to be holding Jimmy’s still beating heart and asking, “So you’ll be fine if I just stick it back in?”

-

lax adj loose, slack or flabby

After the Apocalypse Dean got old quickly. All the worry, all the fear for Sammy had turned his hair grey. All the pie and burgers and beer were giving him a tummy.

Sam mentioned it one morning. “You’re gunna start wearing sweats all the time soon.”

Dean flipped him off and had another two pancakes.

In the car Sam asked if he was gunna start dying his hair or buying rocking chairs.

Dean ignored him.

“Just ‘cause we’re retired it doesn’t mean you can—“

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” Dean replied, belching loudly. “Castiel says so.”

-

mixed blessing noun something which has both advantages and disadvantages

“You’re telling me not to go?” Dean asked.

“No,” Castiel replied. “I’m ordering you.”

The hunter blinked at him. “Well, you can get fucked,” he replied. “If I wanna go I’m going.” He grabbed his jacket.

“Angels are agents of fate, Dean,” Castiel reminded. “I know what will happen.”

“No,” Dean paused at the door. “You think you know what might happen. But I’m making it up as I go.”

Castiel sighed. “If you bet on that game, Dean. We’ll be sleeping in your car for a month.”

Dean smirked. “Her back seat was good enough for you last night.”

-

nelson noun, wrestling a hold in which one passes one’s arms under and over one’s opponent’s from behind, with the palms against the back of their neck

Dean was fond of likening Zachariah to Alistair- ‘another smug son of a bitch’ were the exact words. But when Dean launched himself at the angel, intent on ‘ripping his fucking lungs out’, Castiel thought it prudent to hold him back. He could have whammied Dean asleep but he wanted the hunter to keep yelling, wanted Zachariah to hear everything. Zachariah probably knew that too but Castiel didn’t care. It felt good that he knew the words were from Castiel. And it felt good to have Dean, all hard muscle and leather, tight against him, straining against his vessel’s flesh.

-

offside adj, adverb, football, rugby etc. in an illegal position between the ball and the opponents’ goal

“Castiel,” Azriel did not sound pleased. He had stepped into the room with bright lights and shaking walls and stood before them, awesome and almighty.

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam looked slightly worried. Castiel was as expressionless as ever. Calm and non-threatening, he took a step forward between the angels and Dean.

“Step aside, Castiel,” Azriel continued. At his side Zachariah smirked like a ten-year-old who’s just dobbed on his class mate.

“I cannot,” Castiel replied. “My place is with Dean.”

“Who told you that?” Zachariah sneered. “Dean’s place is with us.”

But Castiel just smiled. “God told me that.”