Destiel Oneshots (fluff and smut)

55. Morning, Sunshine

I had this idea so I need to write it, just to get feelings out BECAUSE IM STILL SAD
ok
just
let me die in peace

I just went through the destiel tag on tumblr and I almost cried like five times

now my heart just hurts so badly HOLY SHIT

and calm

caaaaaaaalllllmmmmm

*deep breath*

FMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

HEH

would you like to listen to AMMMMM

or

FMMMMM

I'm done sorry
___________________________

"Morning, sunshine!"

When Dean had said this the first time, Sam had to hide choking on his coffee, watching Castiel glower at his older brother curiously. Dean just smiled at him, clapped him on the back-which made the angel wince for some reason- and returned to what he was doing beforehand. Cas caught his eye, and sighed, shooting him a LOOK that probably meant:

what? This is totally normal coming from this wonderfully straight heterosexual man, who has had no homosexual thoughts about me for the past few years. It's sooooo platonic.

Sam snorted softly and went back to drinking his coffee.

"Morning, sunshine."

Cas was human this time, and he was the one who came blundering out in a backwards and inside out tee shirt, eyelids heavy on his face. Sam looked at Dean. He saw the book he was researching close as the footsteps sounded, the angel rounding the corner slowly, like a mule with too much weight on it's back. Dean smiled softly at the man, emotions both sympathetic and empathetic.

Cas just let out a small groan, making a beeline for the kitchen. Sam grinned at his brother, gesturing with his head: go, follow him.

Dean shrugged, but stood up anyways. Cas was still making the groaning sound as he humbled into the kitchen. When Dean walked in, Cas had his forehead against the fridge door, and was tapping it against it gently, posture slumped. Cas looked over at him, laser glare smoldering into his eyes.

"You good, Cas?"

All that Cas could muster was a groan.

It was like the WORST hangover in history-but it wasn't a hangover.

"Morning, sunshine."

Cas had been injured and bed ridden by a demon who had attacked them out of the blue. The demon blade had swung down to slash Dean across the chest, but at the last second, a blurry shape darted in front of him. The wound wasn't deep, it was a clean slash that arced from Cas's chest to his left shoulder blade. Sam had killed the demon shortly after, and Dean had to catch the man before he fell to the ground. In his arms, Cas was trembling as blood soaked his shirt. "It's okay, Cas. You're good." Cas whimpered in reply, before passing out in cold blood.

Sam drove the Impala straight back to the bunker while Dean sat in the back with the fallen angel for immediate medical attention. He had cut away the bloody fabric, cleaning the wound with a clean rag covered in water. He poured alcohol over it just to be sure it wouldn't be infected. He taped gauze over his chest shortly before they got to the bunker.

When Cas was in bed the night before, Dean took off the gauze and replaced it with bandages after cleaning once more. Just to be sure.