supernatural mine

Will You Be My Canvas?

Fandom - Supernatural

Characters - Dean, Cas

Summary - Cas has found some paint and wants to use Dean as his canvas. Thanks @sirasslessunicorn for the prompt! 

Words - 823

“Dean!” Cas rushes into the room, trench coat flapping behind him. “Look what I found,” he says proudly, holding out a box of paintbrushes and bottles of paint.

“Where did you get those?”

“I was exploring the bunker. They were in a cupboard. But there’s nothing to paint on.”

“Cas, we have paper.”

Cas considers this for a second, staring into space. “I don’t want to paint on paper,” he says after a while, looking for all the world like using paper for art is a ridiculous concept to come up with. 

“Well, what do you want to paint on, then?”

“…You.”


“This is ridiculous,” Dean grumbles, pulling his shirt over his head.

“You’ve already said that. Three times.”

“Well, it is.”

Cas rolls his eyes, shrugging his coat from his shoulders. “I’m not making you do this, you know. You did agree. Now, lie on your bed.”

Dean sighs, flopping onto his stomach on top of the mattress. “What’re you gonna paint on me, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Cas says simply, sitting next to Dean. “Whatever I feel like.”

Cas dips a paintbrush into some red paint, inspecting the colour before painting a long red line down Dean’s back, from his shoulder to his waist.

Dean jumps, sitting bolt upright and staring at Cas with wide eyes.

“What?” Cas asks in confusion, bringing the paintbrush away from Dean’s skin.

“I…nothing.”

“Uh, okay,” Cas mutters, putting orange paint on his brush as Dean lies down again.

Trailing the tip of the brush along Dean, Cas paints a long orange line next to his red one, gently blending them together. Dean tenses up, clenching his hands and biting his lip.


“Okay, what’s going on?” Cas asks after 15 minutes. “I’ve got most of my painting done, but I can’t finish it if you keep twitching!”

“I’m not- ah-” Dean cuts off with a yelp as Cas paints flecks of gold on his shoulder blades. “I’m not trying to move, but it… it- ah!”

Cas frowns before realising and grinning, drawing more lines of swirling gold. “It tickles, doesn’t it?”

Dean plants his face into a pillow, mumbling a muffled, “Yes.”

Chuckling to himself, Cas brings his brush down next to Dean’s underarms. “Don’t move, or I’ll just have to start over, and you’ll have to go through all this again,” he warns before dragging the brush over Dean’s skin, smiling fondly when Dean jumps before burying his face deeper into his pillow.

“Cahahas,” Dean giggles.

“What?” 

“Yohou knohow what.”

“I do,” Cas says. “Stay still!”

“I- I’m tryihing!”

“Try harder.”

Dean groans, squirming slightly. “Hohow much lohonger will thihis tahake?“

“I don’t know. I have to paint closer to your sides and underarms now.”

“Whahait, buhut- ah! Noho!” Dean shrieks as he feels the cold tip of Castiel’s paintbrush sweep over his side. “Cahahas!”

“Dean Winchester, stop moving!“

“I cahan’t hehelp it!” Dean complains, craning his head round to look at Cas. 

“Well, start helping it.”

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but he dissolves into laughter when the paintbrush swirls under his arm. “Nohoho, Cahahas! Yohou’re dohoing thahat on purpohohose!”

“I am. There wasn’t even any paint on the brush that time,” Cas says with a smirk, retracting his brush from Dean’s underarm.

“You- you are so mean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cas says. “Okay, I’m almost done.”

“Wait-” Dean begins. “You are actually gonna put paint on the brush this time, right?”

“Maybe.”

“Cas!”

“Yes, I am.”


“Alright, I’m done.”

“You are?”

“Yes,” Cas says, cleaning his brush. “Is there a mirror, so you can see?”

“Yeah, there’s one in the bathroom,” Dean replies, getting to his feet. Walking into the bathroom, he stands with his back to the mirror, glancing over his shoulder at Castiel’s work of art. “Whoa,” he says, his mouth dropping open.

Down his back, from his shoulder to his waist, is a shining phoenix, red and orange standing out against a dark blue background. The bird’s head rests on his right shoulder, with one wing stretched across to his left, and golden tail feathers curling around his waist and side. The rest of his back is painted a deep navy blue, with white diamond shaped stars. 

“Do you like it?”

Dean turns, his mouth still open, to see Cas leaning in the doorframe, wiping paint from his hands.

“It’s amazing, Cas.”

Cas smiles. “Thank you, Dean. I’m glad you think so.”

“How do you paint like that?”

“It’s fairly easy, with a little practise. I could certainly teach you, if you want me to,” Cas says, walking over to Dean and inspecting his artwork.

“You would?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Cas. Your painting really is beautiful, you know.”

“You’re beautiful,” Cas blurts out without thinking.

Dean whips his head round to look Cas in the eyes. “I- what?”

“Oh, uh- nothing.”

Dean frowns, regarding Cas, before leaning in, pressing their lips together. He smiles as they pull away. “You’re beautiful too.”