“You busy?” was the first text Crowley received
from you after a week of silence.
It was a busy week for him and he rarely had
time to take a rest or check on you. He hesitated for a moment before writing
back, actually curious what would you want from him. You two have never been
too close and it was unusual for you to write to him. You only had his number
because a long while ago he insisted you were gonna need it when your evenings became
lonely. Yes, it was weak and out of character from him, but at that time he had
tried really hard to become closer to you and he took every opportunity to do
it. Besides, it worked, much to his surprise. Of course, you laughed the whole
time and certainly didn’t take it seriously, but it didn’t matter at that
really,” he wrote back, pushing the closest pile of documents away from
“Wanna work a little
magic and help me survive?”
He furrowed his eyebrows, his concern
immediately rising up. He stood up, teleporting right to the bunker he was
almost sure you were supposed to be in.
The darkness surrounded him without warning and
fear struck him hard. He was sure he was in the bunker, but had no way of
“Darling?” he shouted, trying to move forward,
but he hit his knee on something very hard and very unexpected.
“Crowley?” you asked surprised, coming into the
room from the corridor. You used the flashlight in your phone to illuminate
“You said it was something important.” He shielded
“Yeah, the whole electricity is out and the
Boysband is in town, but I didn’t think you would come in right now. Can you do
something about it?”
He sighed, snapping his fingers with a tired
look on his face. The light almost blinded you.
“Woah, thanks,” you blinked a few times,
turning your phone off. “If I knew you would do this so quickly, I wouldn’t
have dived in all those wires.”
“You are welcome,” he smiled, turning around.
He noticed a few cheap-looking Christmas decorations hanging on the walls. It
took him a while to recall what time of year it already was. Hell’s business
could be more absorbing than it sounded.
“Yeah, I know,” you noticed the look on his
face, passing by him to the chimney to light it up. “I wanted to feel a little
bit of Christmas but was also too lazy to do something more about it, so please
avoid this poor embodiment of my defeat.”
Crowley chuckled, taking a seat at one of the
armchairs. He snapped his fingers again and a glass of whisky popped into his hand.
“I have never taken you as one to celebrate
something like this,” he said, observing your actions. You shrugged.
“It’s not that I like Christmas for the
opportunity to wish God happy birthday. I just like the atmosphere in general,
you know, the happiness and being nice to everyone and this feeling that for
those few days nothing bad is allowed to happen. And the snow, OH MY GOD, THE
SNOW, I love the snow,” you clutched your heart dramatically.
Crowley smiled, adoring the way your whole
attitude lit up, almost in a childish way. You hissed, moving away from the
chimney when the fire finally started, burning your fingers. You fell on the
other armchair, settling in a more comfortable position under your blanket.
“So… when will the boys be back?” Crowley
“They have called some time ago. It looks like
they won’t be back for a few days. They let me stay in the bunker, so I won’t
have to wander between some dubious motels. That’s the best Christmas present
ever, if you ask me,” you said jokingly, but Crowley took a mental note to
himself, looking back at his drink.
“I know a few better,” he smiled softly.
“Right, ‘cause you celebrate it every year and
party till morning,” you teased, chuckling.
He smiled, shrugging. You yawned, melting in
the pleasant feeling of erupting heat.
“It’s late,” he noticed. “You should go to
“Right… But shouldn’t you also be busy?” you
raised your eyebrow sceptically. “I’m not the one ruling Hell. I may be as lazy
as I wish to be.”
“Let’s say I’m taking a short leave of absence
and hope nothing crashes when I’m out.”
“Sounds cool. You want some tea? I wanted to
bake some cookies, but the electricity showed me the middle finger, so there is
nothing edible I have to offer,” you asked him casually, surprising him.
“Well, darling, if you didn’t notice, I’m a
demon and demons don’t need any food,” Crowley snickered with disbelief.
“But you drink.”
“I like the taste.”
“So do you want some tea? I’ve got something
His laugh stopped when he noticed that you were
serious. It was the first time in centuries he was offered something for free.
It was a simple gesture from you but the sudden realisation hit him hard,
leaving him with the lack of words for once.
“Yes, please,” he cleared his throat, hiding
his thoughts from reflecting on his face.
“You take sugar?” you shout from the kitchen a
few moments later.
He took advantage of being alone to think about
what exactly he was doing right now. You wanted him to help you, that’s why you
texted. This is how it has always worked – someone wanted something from him so
he summoned him whenever it was needed. The Winchesters, the people desiring
something so much they would sell their souls for it, the demons. But after
that – he wasn’t neither needed nor welcome anymore. No thank you, no see you
later. That’s how the world worked, or so he believed.
Sure, you called him to help you, but who else
could you call? Crowley stopped at that thought, remembering everything he had learned
about you. The two of you have spoken many times and that didn’t make you
friends, but he also couldn’t consider you an enemy. He barely knew anything
about your life, but he was almost sure you didn’t have anyone else besides the
Winchesters. And him. This thought felt different.
You were always so kind to everyone, yet they
tended to turn you down. Crowley corrected himself – you have always been nice
to him – that was more important to him. You even asked him nicely if he had
some free time.
You treated him like a human. Like any other
person and not the King of Hell, the worst demon of them all.
“Here it is,” you surprised him, coming back
with two cups of delicious smelling liquid. You handed him one of the cups with
a smile that made everything else slow down for a moment.
“Is it good?” you asked as he took the first
sip, almost nervous.
“Why do you care?” he answered more harshly
than he intended.
“Why would I not?” you tilted your head. “I
made it. If it’s shit, it’s my fault, because Sam was able to make it taste
delicious a few days ago.”
Crowley snorted, looking down.
“Besides, you’re my buddy,” you added. The
honest undertone in your voice made Crowley question his doubts.
He looked up at you. You looked so peaceful,
illuminated by warm light, buried under your blanket. No lies, no acting.
Something he grew to believe was unavailable for him.
He sipped the tea.
“It’s not that bad.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
The next day, you were woken up by noises
coming from the kitchen. You yawned, stretching on your bed. It was a hard
decision, but you finally decided to get out of your room and yell at the
unexpected (and stupid) burglar. To your surprise, the well-known boys smiled
brightly at you.
“Merry Christmas,” Sam said, unpacking some
“Weren’t you supposed to… not be there?” you
asked semi-conscious, desperately trying to remember if you fell in a few days
Dean chuckled, getting around you to take something.
“Yeah, but we were lucky and made it back
faster. It was almost a miracle, if you ask me… Oh, and by the way, if that’s
how you cope with loneliness, maybe we should leave you more often?”
The Winchesters laughed and you pinched your
skin to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Having no idea what were they talking
about, you made your way through the hallway and to the room Dean gestured to.
You held your breath.
A true Christmas tree. And the lights. And the
decorations you wouldn’t be able to afford or even find.
Anon asked: Hi! I love your writing and have a request, if you dont mind. its a little weird but idk. college au destiel, dean and cas have been friends since they were kids. cas loves dean, but he tries to deny it cuz dean is “straight.” one of deans crazy exs mass texts his nudes as revenge. cas accidently sees them cuz someone texts him them and he cant deny his crush anymore. problem: dean has no shame in the pictures and girls flock to him because of them. jealous cas. you finish it… :)
Castiel groaned as the buzzing of his phone woke him up. He reached a hand out from under his blanket and groped around for it. When he finally found it, he had to squint against the blinding light.
There was a new text from Crowley with a picture attached.
‘Merry Christmas, Darling.’ Castiel tapped the screen to open the picture attachments, then abruptly dropped his phone again.
Pictures of Dean. Naked pictures of Dean. Pictures of him touching himself and standing fully erect in front of his mirror.
“Oh my God,” Cas kicked his blankets away and got out of bed. He went across the hall to Dean’s room and threw the door open. “Get up!”
Castiel threw his phone on the bed an watched as Dean’s eyes went wide.
“That crazy bitch!”
Castiel didn’t need to ask who he was talking about. Throughout the span of Dean’s dating experience, he had only went out with one girl that would do this. Bela Talbot.
“Crowley sent that to me,” Cas said. “I’m guess almost everyone has seen them by now.”
For all his cursing and panicking, Dean didn’t get out of bed. What could he do now? He’d just have to own up to it and hope the fall out wasn’t too bad.
“Call me sometime.”
Dean grinned at the gorgeous red head as she slipped him her number. He watched her sashay away, then turned to Castiel, who he was having lunch with.
“That’s like the tenth one today!” Dean said, tucking the slip of paper into his jacket.
“That’s great, Dean,” Castiel said, looking down at his plate. He was jealous at how easily girls could come up to Dean and flirt. He wondered what would happen if tried the same thing.“
Castiel suppressed a sigh. Dean knew his face too well after years of reading it.
“Nothing,” Cas mumbled. It’s not like he could tell Dean what was really wrong. That Castiel was in love with him and had been since their freshman year of high school.
“C'mon, Cas. You can tell me anything.”
“Really, it’s nothing. I just have a test coming up that I’m worried about.” Cas glanced at his watch. “Speaking of, I’m late my study session with Crowley.”
He stood and gathered his bag and coat.
“I’ll see you tonight,” He called over his shoulder, not stopping to hear Dean’s goodbye.
“Why did you send me those pictures?” Cas asked miserably, staring up at Crowley’s ceiling.
“I figured it would would be the only way you’d ever see Dean Winchester naked, seeing as you’re too big of baby to get him there yourself.”
“Right, and I’m the king of Hell.”
“My own personal Hell.”
Crowley threw a pen at him and Castiel sat up.
“Are we going to study or are you going to angst all night?” Crowley demanded. “Because if it’s the latter, I’m going to need to be drunk.”
They ended up sprawled across Crowley’s bed, passing a bottle between them.
“We’ve been best friends since we were six,” Castiel said. “He should have noticed by now, right?”
“It’s dark in the closet.” Castiel snickered.
“Do you think he’ll hate me if I tell him?” Castiel took a pull from the bottle. “The worst that could happen is that he kicks me out and never talks to me again, right?”
“If he does, my bed is always open.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Castiel pushed himself up from the bed and swayed a little before picking up his bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Castiel spent the trek across campus wondering what to say to Dean. Could he tell him how he felt? What would Dean do if he did? Castiel couldn’t lose him after so long.
He was still worrying over it when he opened the door to his and Dean’s apartment. Dean was on the couch, kissing a pretty brunette. They both looked up when Castiel walked in.
“I’m sorry!” Castiel said. “I’ll leave.”
“I should actually go,” The girl said. “I’ll see you around.”
Cas’s stomach burned with jealousy as she leaned down to kiss him again. He moved out of the way so that she could leave.
“I’m really sorry,” Castiel said, when the door closed behind her. “If I had known I would have went somewhere else.”
“You live here, too,” Dean shrugged. “I thought that you were spending the night at Crowley’s.”
“Why would I do that?”
“He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?”
“No,” Cas said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Why would Dean think that?
“You’re with him all the time.”
“I’m with you more,” Castiel pointed out. “Besides I'm– I like someone else.”
“Really?” He cursed his alcohol addled brain but nodded. “Who?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s never going to happen, even if he wasn’t straight, he wouldn’t want me.”
“Cas, come on–”
“Why would you?” Dean stared at him for a moment and Castiel realized what he said. “I–”
His excuse was cut off by Dean’s mouth on his. Cas sighed against his lips, allowing Dean’s tongue into his mouth.
“How long?” Dean asked.
“Years.” Cas murmured. He looked up into Dean’s eyes. “You kissed me.”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks, but I thought that you and Crowley…”
Castiel kissed him again, loving the feeling of Dean’s lips on his.
“Let’s go do something,” Dean said, when they broke apart again.
“Right now?” It was after midnight on a Tuesday. Castiel was already going to be hungover, but he know that he’d follow Dean anywhere.
“I want everyone to know that I’m with you,” Dean said, holding his face in his hands. Castiel smiled.
Dean flicked off the light as they walked out the door, then caught Castiel’s fingers in his as they walked down the hall together.