whatthehell

bakuyakusha:

Sometimes when they go out in public and Dean catches someone being a little too friendly with Cas and he growls something like “keep your hands off him”, people think he’s a jealous freak, and that Cas’ little smirk and sigh of complacency is a totally inappropriate reaction to being basically manhandled across the room by an unfriendly jerk who’s got a hand across the small of his back.

But they don’t know what Dean had to get through just to get Cas, how he had to struggle through years of the entire world trying to keep them apart, of everyone telling them they’re wrong, of having to choose sides and pass obstacles like his own emotional insecurity just to get to be with Castiel. And how, after all that, there are people, monsters, and angels who, even after seeing what the two of them are capable of, still think they have some sort of claim on the angel who rides the backseat of a classic car and can drink your stupid ass under the table. Dean’s lip rides up in a snarl when he considers the mere idea that someone else could have Cas, or that Cas could ride with someone who isn’t him, as he lets his hand slide up Cas’ back to cup the back of his head and twist in his hair tight enough to look like it hurts, but Castiel, with his uncommonly high threshold of pain, doesn’t notice it, but appreciates the pressure just the same. People don’t know that these are some of the most dangerous beings on earth, and care for each other so fiercely and violently that it can only manifest in public in subtle tugs of hair, Castiel’s crushing grip on Dean’s forearm, Dean’s teeth close to Cas’ ear, growling out his possessive love like a threat. So yeah, you’d better keep your hands off.

thekingslover:

(because I hate cliffhangers and won’t sleep without some resolution)

*

Dean barely has time to throw the Impala into park before he’s tearing open the door.

That was Cas. That was Cas. That was Cas.

That is Cas – laying in the road, covered in blood. “Cas?”

“A little help here?”

Dean nearly falls over himself getting to Cas’ side. “What the hell happened to you?”

He’s covered in blood. Dean doesn’t know which wound to look at, where to put his hands. When his gaze gets to Cas’ face, the angel’s out cold.

“You stay with me, you son of a bitch,” Dean half-whispers, half-growls. Dean’s heart feels too big for his chest, aching. If Castiel had stayed beside him instead of running off on his own, maybe Dean could have protected him from whatever the hell happened. “This is why we stay together, damn it.”

“Dean?” Sam asks.

“I got this,” Dean says and scoops Cas into his arms. Last thing he needs is Sam falling over while carrying Cas. Dean would probably have a heart attack.

Cas startles awake at being jostled. His voice is a gruff grumble - more so than usual. “Dean?”

“I’m taking you home, Cas,” Dean tells him. “We’re going home.”