Tampax and Dark Chocolate

NEW Destiel ministory :D "Castiel Needs Glasses"

“Dean, what are we doing here?”  Castiel’s face scrunches up as he takes in his surroundings.

“I’ve noticed something lately, Cas.  Here, look at me.  How many fingers am I holding up?”  Dean holds up his had, extending none of his fingers.

“Dean, this is silly.  You are obviously holding up two fingers.  Can we get to something of importance?”  Castiel becomes frustrated, knowing there are other things in the world that need tending to rather than Dean’s silly amusements.

“Cas, you need glasses.  You can’t see, and frankly, I don’t need you mistaking me for someone else and ganking me.”  Castiel wanted to tell Dean he would NEVER mistake him for someone else, let alone the enemy, but instead, he protests.

“Dean, you’re being ridiculous.  I can see just fine.  Now, can we go?”  Castiel wasn’t entirely sure what having glasses entailed, but he wasn’t up for them.

“Sure, we can go, Cas.”  And with that, Dean led Castiel into the optometrist building, all but dragging the defiant angel.  All around him, Castiel is faced with racks upon racks of spectacles of all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors.

“Dean,” Castiel mutters, struggling to get away, but Dean is plenty stubborn and strong enough to keep the feeble angel under control.

“Hello!” The peppy receptionist calls from the front desk the boys are trying to reach.  “How may I help you today?”  Normally, Castiel would have no problem with a human who looked on the bright, happy side of life.  Today, however, he found her annoying and had the malicious feeling to smite her.  Dean responds to her question.

“Yes, I’m Carter Evans, and this is my friend Jerome Jones.  He has an appointment with Dr. Reynolds.”  Castiel shoots Dean an evil glare, realizing he had this planned the whole time.  Sneaky.

“Of course!  Come this way, Jerome, and Dr. Reynolds will see you in his office in a moment or two.”  The happy-go-lucky woman, Renee her nametag states, grabs the right arm of his trench coat and begins to lead him down the hall, but he grabs Dean’s wrist, leveraging him to the surprised hunter.

“Only if he can come with me,” Castiel argues, eyes wide and frantic.

“Of course!  First time?”  Renee asks ‘Jerome,’ earning a nod in reply.  When they reach Dr. Reynolds’ office-the eye exam room-Dean flops in a cushioned chair in the corner and flips through a muscle car magazine.

“You’re such a wuss, Cas.  It’s not like he’s going to pull a knife on you or anything.  Chill out, he’s just going to look at your eyes and ask you a few questions.”  Castiel paces the room, worried about everything.

“Well, it looks like you’re going to have to get some glasses, Mr. Jones.”  Dr. Reynolds tells Castiel, who is gripping the armrests of the exam chair after a short ten-minute exam.  Dean listens intently from the corner.

“But I don’t want glasses,” Castiel complains.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t normally recommend them for a first-timer, but are you interested in contacts?”

“No, no, no, glasses will be just fine,” Dean interjects, knowing the last thing Castiel will want to do is stick his finger in his eyes every day.  Plus, contacts are marginally more expensive than glasses.

“Oh, good.  Well, feel free to go look for a pair of frames.  Renee will help you if you need assistance.  Have a good day.”  Dr. Reynolds shows them out, shutting the door softly behind them.

“Ok, angel boy, time to find some fancy spectacles that won’t make you look any nerdier than you already do.”  Castiel finds it hard not to take offense to that comment, especially when he didn’t want them in the first place, but if Dean insists…

After about an hour of trying on a multitude of germ-infested frames, Castiel finally decides upon a pair of thin, black, square frames that suit him well.  Dean pays for them with one of his many fake credit cards, and Castiel walks out with them perched precariously on his nose, staring cross-eyed out of them.

“I don’t like these, Dean.”  Castiel can’t help but complain.  “They’re very uncomfortable, and there are specks of dirt on them.”  Dean sighs and grabs them off the frustrating angel’s face, using his shirt to wipe the glasses clean.

“Better?” He asks, handing them back to Cas to put them on.

“No.  Now they’re smudgy.  Dean, I don’t like them!”

“Fine, Cas.  Go ahead and not wear them, but they help you see, I know they do, and you look pretty damn handsome in them.  But fine, whatever, see if I care.”  Dean sighs, rolls his eyes, and storms off, wishing he’d never even brought the inconsiderate guy there.  Castiel takes long strides to catch up, pushing the nose pads up on the bridge of his nose.

“Dean.  Do I really look good in them?”  Castiel looks into Dean’s eyes, the bright blue even more intense when magnified by his glasses.

“Damn right you do, Castiel.  I could really get used to them on you.”  And with a smile, Dean puts his arms around Castiel, walking side by side as he watches the first smile of the day form on Castiel’s lips.

Tell me if you like this or not. Enjoy :D