tlakht:

angelicbadass said: Curses! Witches! Bed sharing! Vessel swapping! Errr…cooking lessons…! All of these things in one?

There are a hundred
things Dean could be noticing about how it’s different to be in Cas’s body
instead of his own: things like how his teeth are shaped differently now, how he
breathes more easily through his nose, how his left knee doesn’t ache but his
right shoulder does, how his muscles are denser despite how small Cas always
looks covered up in his trenchcoat.

Instead, all he
notices is how good it feels to have Cas’s body (well, his own, really) wrapped
around him in the La-Z-Boy they’re sharing, bare arms circling Dean’s waist and
holding him close to maximize body contact. Cas doesn’t seem to mind that
touching – a lot – is the way to reverse the spell they were hit with
yesterday, and Dean certainly doesn’t mind, feeling oddly grateful toward the
witch who did this to them.

It’s not as weird as Dean would’ve thought,
seeing Cas wearing his face; he is still so very Cas that it’s hard to see him as anything else, even with Dean’s
face on. There’s the way he holds himself, his facial expressions and the way
he speaks, but there’s also something else, something Dean can see even when
the angel isn’t doing anything in particular. Something Dean can’t put his finger
on, but which still makes him see Cas as
clearly as if the angel had been in his own body.

What feels weirder is knowing that he’s in Cas’s body – the one that Chuck remade for him after Cas’s vessel
was destroyed, so it’s not even Jimmy’s body; it truly is Cas’s. It makes Dean
feel a bit reverent, almost. He knows this body isn’t Cas’s true form, but it’s
the only one the angel’s got now that he’s fallen, and now it’s Dean’s
responsibility to take care of it until the curse is lifted.

Which is why, when it signals to Dean that
it’s hungry, Dean listens. “Come on.” He pulls on Cas’s arm, drags
him out of the room, and Cas goes willingly with him into the kitchen, waiting
until Dean has spread all the ingredients and utensils out in front of them
before he molds himself against Dean’s back again.

“You’re making cheeseburgers?”

Dean knows what his own voice sounds like
when he’s excited, and that’s exactly the way Cas sounds right now, so close to
Dean’s ear. He’d rather hear it in Cas’s own voice, but it’s still enough to
make Dean smile.

“No. You are.” He makes his way
around Cas; the angel is taller than him now, but not too tall for him to hook
his chin over Cas’s shoulder and reach around him. “This is the perfect
time to teach you.”

The angel hums when Dean’s body and his own
slot together, sounding no less pleased than he did moments ago, and Dean lets
himself imagine that maybe Cas likes this closeness, too; that Dean’s not the
only one who doesn’t mind that the witch put this spell on them.

Cas doesn’t technically need any help with
the chopping; he knows his way around a blade, but Dean still lets his hands
cover Cas’s (or the other way around, really), guiding the angel gently through
the movements, and Cas doesn’t complain. Dean even catches a smile on his own lips
when the angel turns his head to the side, briefly, and a thrill goes through
him at the knowledge that standing here together like this makes Cas happy,
too.

The look Sam gives them when he enters the
kitchen is soft, a hint of a smile on his face, and Dean’s first instinct is to
pull away. But he has an excuse to
touch Cas now, and he remains stubbornly in place even as he feels a slight
blush rise to his face.

They eat together, Cas’s chair pulled up
all the way to Dean’s, hands clasped together between them whenever they’re not
needed for eating, while Sam sits across from them. It’s… relaxed. Easy. Sam doesn’t
act weird about it, and neither does Cas, so Dean lets himself enjoy it,
squeezing Cas’s – his own – hand while telling him how much he enjoys the
burger. Maybe it should feel strange, this casual, domestic setting, but all
Dean can think is how right it feels. That he wouldn’t mind doing this every
day.

It’s Sam who brings up the topic of their
sleeping arrangement, while they eat. “So, are you guys gonna sleep in the
same bed tonight?” He seems to take a bit of pleasure at the way it
startles a cough out of Dean, who almost inhales beer into Cas’s lungs.

“I, ah—” Dean clears his throat. He hasn’t thought that far ahead yet;
he hasn’t let himself. He instinctively knows that he wants to, though – has known for a while now that he wants Cas in
his bed, and over the past few months he’s started to think that it could be
something Cas might want, too. He hesitantly looks over at Cas, meeting green
eyes that look far more certain than they would if he was the one currently in
his body.

“I think we should,” Cas says,
and really, there’s no way Dean’s gonna argue, so he nods, ignoring Sam’s grin
and the way his heart flips.

It’s past midnight when they’re finally in
Dean’s room, dressed only in their boxers, and Dean feels breathless when Cas
sits on the bed and reaches for him. Cas looks like he belongs there – not only
because he looks like Dean right now, but because… well, maybe it’s because
Dean’s imagined him there so many times.

“Is this okay?” Cas asks when he
pulls Dean close, tangling their legs together, and Dean may be worried that his
body – Cas’s body – is gonna give him
away, but yes, this is okay. Being cocooned in his blankets with Cas, feeling
naked skin against naked skin, no matter whose is whose, is more than okay.

“Yeah,” Dean whispers, wrapping
his arms tighter around Cas. The eyes he’s looking into are his own, but it’s
Cas he sees, and he has to stop himself from kissing the angel, dipping his
head into the crook of Cas’s neck instead.

When Dean pulls away, it takes him a moment
to notice, because he’s so used to seeing Cas like this, but then his heart
sinks. Because now Cas has no reason to stay in his bed anymore, and Dean… Dean
isn’t sure if he was about to work up the courage to do something or not, but
now he’s lost the chance to try.

Except… Cas is still holding on, so Dean
looks down himself to check – and yeah, his tattoo’s there, so he’s back to his
normal self. Yet Cas still looks reluctant to let go, and maybe it wouldn’t be
so difficult after all to just… say something.

Cas beats him to it. “Dean. Do you
think… maybe I should still sleep here, so we’re sure the effects of the spell
don’t return?” Dean’s heart skips a beat, and a certain part of his body
does finally give him away at hearing the words spoken in Cas’s gravelly voice,
but it’s okay. Because Cas isn’t going anywhere.