Destiel - Do You Love Me?

Day 1 - Holding Hands

Destiel - Do You Love Me?

Author's Note: So... This is a destiel fic, as you can see, and it's going to be updated every day for 30 days as this is the 30 Day OTP Challenge. This is the challenge below and I have changed some of the prompts a little because, between you and me, I really can't write make out scenes. It's hard, I'm all for fluffiness and the odd bit of angst. Anywho, here you are:

Holding Hands

Cuddling

Gaming/Watching A Movie

On A Date

First Kiss

Wearing Each Others Clothes

Cosplaying

Shopping

Hanging Out With Friends

With Animal Ears

During A Festive Holiday

Teaching Each Other Something

Eating Ice-Cream

Gender Swapped

In Different Clothing Styles

During Their Morning Rituals

Spooning

Doing Something Together (Very Specific XD)

In Formal Wear

Dancing

Cooking/Baking

Battling Side-By-Side

Arguing

Making Up Afterwards

Gazing Into Each Others Eyes

On One Of Their Birthdays

Doing Something Ridiculous

Doing Something Sweet

Caring For The Other When They're Sick

Getting Married

Day 1 - Holding Hands

"Dean!"

Cass' voice rang in Dean's unconcious mind as he lay asleep on the less than comfy motel bed.

"Dean!"

The voice grew in it's ferocity until Dean was forced into a dream. The room that he found his dream self in was dark and damp with only freckles of light weaving through patched up curtains. The sound of dripping pipes echoed throughout the dreary place and dust hung silently in the air. Rubble was strewn accross the floor and the building seemed to be ready to collapse in the wind any second.

Dean span round where he stood looking for any sign of the angel that had been calling him.

"Cass? I was trying to sleep! What do you want?" Dean called out into the darkness surrounding him. He started looking around for Cass which alarmed Dean slightly as he didn't call him like this unless it was an emergency. Cass knew that Dean liked to have at least his head as private space. This call meant something serious and the lack of angel within the room was worrying Dean more than it probably should.

"Cass? Are you there?" He called turning around in search of his friend.

And then he saw him. He was half buried under the rubble in one corner of the dim and dirty building. His long, tan coat was ripped and torn and blood was spattered on it. The crimson liquid was seeping through the angel's shirt and dripping onto the ground at his side.