Twist and Shout (Destiel Fanfic)

Chapter 5

"Nothing is going to happen," Dean tried to console, but Cas frowned.

"You don't know that!" he snapped, and Dean glared at him for a moment before his face softened.

"Let's go out for dinner," he said enthusiastically, trying to change the subject, and Cas groaned, thinking of the medical school applications he still had to fill out.

"Do I really have to get dressed?" he grumbled, hunching his shoulders, and Dean laughed, standing up and ruffling his hair.

"Come on, you've been moping around for days. Let's go out."

"I don't feel like it," Cas muttered, but Dean was already out of ear-shot. He touched the newspaper and turned it around so the headline was facing him. He stared at it for a while and then flipped it over, rubbing his face tiredly. Maybe he was coming down with something.

He sat in the silence, listening as Dean walked around in their bedroom, the closet door opening and closing, the heavy footfalls meaning that Dean had put his boots on. Cas was lost in his thoughts, his hand moving over the newspaper before coming back to curl his fingers around his coffee cup. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and Dean leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"C'mon, Cas, get ready so we can go eat."
Cas shook his head and brought the cup to his mouth, taking a sip before setting it back down. "I don't feel well. Can we go another day?"

He closed his eyes when Dean smoothed his hair back, his palm resting against his forehead, and he lifted his hand, fingers closing around Dean's wrist. Dean kissed his hair, his hand moving down to rest on his shoulder, and Cas leaned into the touch, grabbing his cup of coffee again.

"Yeah, we'll go another day."

Dean moved away and headed back into their bedroom, the paper laying on the table was a constant reminder of what was to come.

The medical school applications went ignored the rest of the night, and they ate leftover spaghetti from the previous night, Dean gently knocking his foot against Cas' shin, smiling at him over his fork. Cas laughed softly as he ate, reaching across the table to take Dean's free hand in his own. Dean curled his fingers through Cas' and they ate in a comfortable silence, their feet bumping into each other under the table, both of them laughing.

They watched Star Trek, Cas' head in Dean's lap, and Dean's fingers sifting through Cas' hair, smoothing out the tangles from him not brushing it out the entire day. Cas wasn't paying too much attention to the episode, but every now and then Dean laughed, and Cas just listened to him.

At some point he had drifted off to sleep, and by the time that he woken up, the television was only emitting static, and Dean's hand was still on his head. He rubbed at his eyes and sat up, Dean grunting as his hand dropped onto the couch, and Cas reached out, smoothing his fingers through his hair, leaning forward to brush his lips against his cheek.

"Dean," he whispered, and Dean snorted as he pulled back. Cas couldn't help but laugh as Dean cracked his eyes open, bringing his hand up to rub at them, groaning.