Destiel Oneshots (fluff and smut)

51. Light My Candle

RENT!AU. If you haven't seen the movie or listened to the soundtrack, listen to it. It's a very good musical and I cried twice!

child.

sigh

I love my kid Mark. Luv him. Save his single poor innocent soul
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December 24th, 1989

Dean was sitting in his apartment room. It was snowing heavily outside, and Dean wore many layers- except it didn't help. A Kansas shirt, a thin, brown wool knit sweater, and a flannel. The owner of the building and his last roommate had shut off his power, and he had no heat during Christmas.

Of all days, Christmas.

He was sitting there aimlessly when suddenly there was a neat knocking on his door. Dean turned on the couch to look back at the door, and watched it slide open. Standing there was a man about his age or a little bit younger. He was wearing a tan trench coat and what seemed like a white dress shirt underneath.

"What'd you forget?"

The man smiled softly, almost embarrassed, and he pulled a box out of his pocket, as well as a.. wax candle?

"Got a light?"

Dean stood up, confused. Somehow, the man seemed to look familiar to him. He never really spoke to anyone beside his brother..

Whoever this guy was was on the tip of his tongue. "I know you," Dean said, inspecting the guy as he brushed snow off his coat. "You're.." He saw the man shaking. "You're shivering."

The man chuckled softly. "It's nothing, they turned off my heat. And I'm just a little weak on my feet." He held out the wax candle he was holding. Dean watched the tips of his raven colored hair lighten in the moonlight.

"What are you staring at?"

Dean held back a blush. "Nothing, nothing. You look familiar." The man started shuffling slowly towards him as if it were hard to walk. "Can you make it?"

"I just haven't eaten much today. At least the room stopped spinning anyway." The man tilted his head, grinning. "What?"

Dean shook his head. "Nothing. Your smile reminded me of-"

"I always remind people of. Who is she?" Dean glanced at the floor, and heard the man stepping closer. He had to admit, the man did have good looks. "He died."

The man looked at him, lighting a match and setting the wick on fire. "His name was-" A sudden wind past through an open window and blew the candle out.

"It's out again!" The man looked irritated. He looked back up at Dean and his glare softened. "Sorry 'bout your friend. Would you light my candle?"

"Well..-"

"Ow!" The man winced and looked down at his hand. "The wax.." the man took on a sly grin. "It's dripping. I like it between my-"

Dean blushed. "Fingers! I figured." Dean took the man's shoulder and guided him back to the door with his candle newly lit. "Oh well, goodnight."

Dean watched the man step out and close the door behind him. He started walking back to the couch when he heard the door click open again. The man was back. "It's out again?" He asked.

The man shook his head. "No, I think I dropped my stash." He dropped to the ground. Dean just stared.

"I know I've seen you out and about when I used to go out."

Dean glanced at the candle. "Your candle's out."

The guy sighed, and stretched out, searching the floor in a very.. flamboyant or.. seductive manner. "Is it on the floor?" He mumbled to himself.

The man suddenly looked back at him. "They say I have the best ass below 14th street. Is it true?" He asked suddenly. Dean was taken aback, and surprised. "W-what?"

"You're staring again." The guy smiled.

Dean scratched his neck. "Oh.. n-no. I mean.. you do have a nice.. I mean, you look familiar."

"Like your dead boyfriend."

Dean shook his head. "Only when you smile. But I'm sure I've seen you somewhere else before."

The man stood up. "Do you go to the Cat Scratch club? That's where I work. I dance."

"Oh!" Dean realized. "They used to tie you up."

The man turned away from him. "It's a living."

Dean chuckled. "I didn't recognize you without the handcuffs... why don't you forget that stuff?" He asked. "You look like you're sixteen."

"I'm nineteen, but I'm old for my age." He looked over his shoulder. "I'm just born to be bad." He smiled again.

"I was once born to be bad." He admitted. "I used to shiver like that.."

"I have no heat, I told you."

"I used to sweat."

"I got a cold." The man shot back.

"Sure. I used to be a junkie."

The man's blue eyes darted back to the floor, and he eyed something every specific. "Oh, here it is!" He reached down, but stopped. "Whats this?"

"U-uh.. candy bar wrapper." Dean dove down and tossed the object aside.

"What'd you do with my candle?" Dean had took it out of his hands.

"That was my last match."

"Our eyes'll adjust. Thank god for the moon."

Dean chuckled. "I never asked you your name." He set the unlit candle aside. "I'm Dean." Dean held out a hand. The man didn't take it. He lowered his hand.

"People call me Castiel."

"Oof. That's a cool name." He chuckled lightly, and looked up to see the man staring at him. "Castiel." Dean stopped, staring at him with sudden interest. "Can I call you Cas?"

Cas shrugged. "It's fine with me. That's one of my many nicknames." He smiled softly. Dean realized that these gestures were awkward-because he had seen him shirtless before. In the Club.

"I should be going now." He said softly. "But.. uh.. thanks for that."

"for what?"

Castiel turned and walked towards the door, not answering him. Dean crossed his arms, watching him. Castiel opened the door, letting in a blast of cold air. The man turned back to him, making him blush.

"You lit my candle."

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Ah. RENT. Saw it live, loved it, honestly. It was pretty good. So, this was a shorter oneshot that took me a long time to write.

I have a few fic ideas, so I might try to write a few. Hopefully I get invested in them!

'TIL NEXT TIME!

-Grace