Heaven Can Wait [Destiel] +oneshots

Chapter one ⛧

Dean rested his eyes upon the flickering flame that was slowly eating up the candle wick. The little source of light bounced off of Dean's face making it appear calm and poised. Soft shadows played on his eyelids and forehead. The man sighed and rubbed his freezing hands and extended them forward out of instinct. It took a few moments for Dean to realize it and he stuffed his hands in his pockets again. He scoffed realizing that the candle provides as much heat as sock fresh out of the dryer so reaching his hands out was pointless. And yet, he still shifted loser to that tiny yellow flame.

Dean sat staring at the melted candle wax running down the side with no purpose. His eyes sometimes aimlessly wandered in the darkness for a few seconds before returning back to the previous target. There were so many things that Dean could've done during that time when the power was out but he decided to stare at the candle. The twitching light was somehow calming, as the thin wick burned down slowly melting the wax, foreign serenity washed over Dean. The man couldn't figure out what was so magical about a simple flame. Maybe it was feeding his incendiary tendencies. He tend to burn stuff often but lately, Dean didn't have many chances to light something on fire. The man's trusty lighter remained untouched for weeks, collecting dust in his pocket.

Dean's train of hazy thoughts was interrupted when the lights came back with a violent buzz. Dean squinted his green eyes that were so used to the darkness. The man lifted his head up and listened for the wind. He squinted his eyes as if it was going to help him hear better. Even if Dean was surrounded by thick concrete walls the howling sound of wind reached the man's ears. Dean sat up and instinctively walked out of the room to check on Sam but his hand stopped just before his knuckles met the hard wooden surface. The man was sleeping, it was pretty late and Sam had a schedule. Dean let out a heavy sigh and stretched his arms a bit. With nothing else on his mind, he walked to the bunker's kitchen where he collected a decent amount of food and drinks to bring into his room.

"Dean..."

The man flinched like a jolt of electricity just shocked his whole body.

"You gotta stop doing that." Dean pointed at Castiel with a beer in his hand

"My apologies." Cas did a weak bow apologetically

Dean's curious gaze scanned the man in front of him from head to toe. Castiel was soaking wet, water rapidly dripped off of his trenchcoat creating a muddy puddle beneath his shoes. Dean frowned seeing the muddy imprints on the kitchen floor that he had cleaned just a couple of hours ago.

"Man..." Dean pursed his lips annoyed "Can you go change or dry off at least?"

"This is why I was looking for you, Dean." Castiel said lowly while looking at Dean intensely like he usually did "I do not own spare clothing."

Dean let out a heavy disappointed sigh and gestured with his hand signaling Castiel to follow him. The man grabbed his food and his bear and made his way back to his room. Castiel followed the man leaving a wet trail behind him. Dean winced internally thinking about how much time it'll take to clean the floor again. The man wasn't that mad, more like slightly irritated, annoyed that Castiel doesn't own an umbrella and walks in the pouring rain. Not that angels woud get sick like humans but the fact that it was dark and Castiel was all alone when he could've been hanging out at the bunker, reading something in Enochian.

Dean dumped all the food on his bed and started digging through his clothes. They were similarly built so that wasn't a problem. Dean struggled with finding Cas something in his style but all he owned was plaid shirts and leather jackets. Dean shrugged his shoulders realizing that he's not gonna find anything remotely similar to what Castiel was wearing and grabbed his favorite combination of clothing. Dean caught himself smiling as his hand extended forward to hand Castiel dry clothes. Dean's facial expression stiffened up and his lips returned to their usual vertical line. Dean cleared his throat and sat down on his bed before grabbing the remote from the nightstand.