Me: Okay, Brain. Think about what happens next in this chapter.

Brain: *Skips three chapters ahead*

Me: No, no. This one, this chapter, the one we are writing right now.

Brain:.......*47 scenes forward*

Me: NO

hockey? like, from the fanfics? you know that's not a real thing, right?

Hockey Heritage Post

Get to Know the Hockey Bois

Pre-orders for A. L. Heard's novel Hockey Bois open on December 1st, 2023. Yeah, it's a m/m beer-league hockey plot-ful romance, but what are these bois really like? Let's hear from them in their own words...

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Hermit Prints — Hockey Bois

This project was for the novel Hockey Bois by A.L. Heard, published by Duck Prints Press.

This is available in both hard covers and trade paperback, in the 6×9 format.

If you’d be interested in getting your story typeset and ready to print, please visit my commissions page.

You can purchase the hardcover, paperback, and e-book from Duck Print Press. The trade paperback should also be available to order at your local bookstore, and the e-book available in libraries!

the thing about the way people go on and on about how smut and shipping ruins the ability to think about character or worldbuilding or whatever, is that this is inherently a skill issue. nothing better to tell you about a character and their most important internal neuroses (personal, social, cultural) than discovering how they like to fuck and who they want to fuck and the why of it all. such complainants should, rly speaking, read better smut.

First time smut writer: Um. Hope this is OK? It's only a bit of smut at the very end of the epilogue and you can skip it, it's ok. So sorry, um. Oh dear me. Please don't judge me. Nobody read this omg what have I done 😳

Seasoned smut writer: *ringing bell* Come get uR PORNOGRAPHY! 10k pwp, it's KINKY AS HECK so share it with all your friends!!! If you've got any suggestions for my Kinktober just drop it in the comments, I will write whatever wet, messy & DOWNRIGHT FILTHY fic about these two idiots 👏

First time smut reader: I'd better read this as a guest so it's not in my history. I'm never telling anyone about this. Oh my god, how do people dare to comment, I could never.

Seasoned smut reader:

Author Applications for “Scholarly Pursuits” are Now Open!

Duck Prints Press is overjoyed to announce that now, July 15 2024, through July 27th, author applications are now open for our 11th anthology, Scholarly Pursuits: A Queer Anthology of Cozy Academia Stories!

Are you a fanfiction author? Have you been wanting to break into publishing your original fiction?

If the answer to both these questions is “yes,” then this may be the perfect opportunity for you! Duck Prints Press (the spiffy indie press founded by fandom author unforth to publish the original work of fancreators) is looking for up to 20 authors – ten who’ve worked with us before, ten who never have – to write all-new, original stories, 2,500 to 5,000 words long, for a minimum pay of $50 per story! What will these stories be about? In short, cozy academia. In slightly-less-short, we want to read your pitches for stories about queer people pursuing knowledge and the places where they are pursuing that knowledge, all with a fluffy, cozy academia. Think “the opposite of dark academia.” What exactly that means, well, we’re open to your imaginative interpretations!

Every pitch must include:

Curious how to apply? If you are over the age of 18 and have posted at least 3 completed fanfiction works totaling a minimum of 10,000 words, then you are qualified to apply, and you should follow these links to learn all the deets – how to apply, what to submit, how long pitches should be, and more!

The application period ends when the last timezone in the world hits 11:59 p.m. on July 27th, so make sure to get your applications in before then.

READY TO APPLY? Authors who’ve never worked with us before, use this form!

Are you a returning author – one who has written with us before? Use this form!

Feel free to drop us an e-mail at [email protected], send an ask to our Tumblr inbox, or join our public Discord and drop a question in our mod shout chat.

if you're a writer i wish u a very plot/story/character epiphany

Dean gets turned into a dog by a teenage witch who’s clearly in over her head. She gives Sam and Cas the spell easily and begs them not to hurt her, and it’s on Cas to talk to her about responsibility of magic usage while Sam carries a now fur-laden Dean out to the car. 

Sam thinks it’s funny at first, because come on, it is. He makes about a half dozen jokes about fur on the Impala’s seats and installing a doggy door at the bunker, but when he gets no reaction from Dean, he starts to worry. He’d assumed it was just Dean’s body that was dogified. Now he’s pretty sure it was more than that.

He locks Dean in the car (windows down, of course), and waits anxiously for Cas. 

“I think Dean’s mind became a dog too,” Sam says in a rush, not even sure if that adequately explains his concerns. 

Cas frowns in confusion and takes over. After a thorough and angelic investigation that basically looks like Cas staring into Dean’s doggy eyes for a good ten minutes, Cas shrugs. 

“His mind and memories are intact, but they’re buried deep. A dog’s brain can’t handle decades worth of complex human experiences and emotions, so it seems it’s choosing to repress most of Dean’s life in favor of not being completely overwhelmed and shutting down.” 

“Dogs are complex,” Sam says defensively. 

Cas raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t say they weren’t. Dogs are wonderful creatures, better than humans in a number of respects. I merely spoke to the physical limitations based on their general lifespan and overall processing capabilities.”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” Sam says. “So Dean will still be Dean when we get him changed back?” 

“Yes, I imagine so. It might even do him some good, to switch off the constant guilt and self-deprecating thoughts he seems to deal with on a daily basis.” 

Sam huffs a laugh. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind some of that myself.” 

“We have the spell,” Cas says back, his lips quirking up in a half smile. “If you’re interested.” 

He takes a moment to survey his brother, his dog form sprawled across the back seat as he licks himself. 

“Yeah, on second thought, maybe not.” 

“What’s the plan?” Sam asks from behind the wheel. He was looking forward to rubbing it in Dean’s face that he couldn’t drive them back. Now he just sits there awkwardly, waiting.

Cas climbs into the back seat with Dean, whose ears perk up at the attention. After Cas settles in, Dean drapes himself over Cas lap and pants happily.

“We should head back to the bunker. I wouldn’t recommend taking Dean on hunts until he’s human again.”

It sounds obvious, but Sam needed to hear it. This is weird, and having Cas there to more or less take over helps. “Right. Yeah, good plan.”

He puts the car in gear and drives for a few miles just to calm down. When he looks into the rearview mirror, Cas is looking out the window at the passing scenery while absentmindedly scratching behind Dean’s ears. Sam suddenly wishes he wasn’t driving so he could take a picture.

“We going to work on a counter spell?” he asks around a laugh. He needs to know how long he has to gather blackmail material.

“We could, not I don’t think it’s necessary. The spell has its natural duration and will likely wear off within a few days or possibly weeks. Since the caster was inexperienced, I don’t think it would be wise to actively interfere with her work. It might make things worse.”

He continues to scratch at Dean’s ear as he speaks. Dean’s tail sways rhymically back and forth, and he leans into Cas’ touch. 

Yeah. Sam’s getting pictures later. And videos. So many videos.

~ ~ ~

Turns out Dog Dean isn’t a whole lot different than Human Dean. 

Sam tries to take him on a run, hoping dog instinct will take over, but Dean only runs about a block before he sits and obstinantly refuses to go farther. He does enjoy Sam or Cas throwing a ball and him dashing after it, just like he enjoys going on long rides in the Impala with his head out the window. 

He can’t prank them, not really, but he likes appearing out of nowhere and weaving in and out of Sam’s feet in an attempt to trip him. He also will dramatically fall down and “play dead” while wimpering. Sam fell for it once before he realized that even as a dog, his brother could be a dramatic asshole; Cas continues to check every time (though Sam is pretty sure Cas is just humoring Dean). 

His food habits are as terrible as ever. They tried giving him high end dog food and he wouldn’t touch it. He sits in the kitchen, begging as he watches them going through the fridge until he gets his way. Sam watches in bemusement as Cas learns how to cook steaks, burgers, bacon, all of Dean’s favorites. Dean also has a habit of stealing boxes of cereal, chewing through the cardboard and plastic, and munching on Captain Crunch or Lucky Charms. 

He’ll bark along to the radio. He learns to use the remote with his nose so he could watch Netflix all day. He buries himself in a nest of blankets and his robe, all curled neatly on his memory foam bed. When he gets lonely he’ll follow around Sam and Cas, yipping at them until they give him attention. Sam will give him an obligatory pat on the head or back, enjoying the dog aspect but weirded out too much by the Dean part. Then there’s Cas, who’ll devote a whole hour of his time rubbing his head, his back, his belly, until Dean falls asleep in contentment.

And, well, Sam can’t really prove it, but he thinks late at night Dean will sneak through the bunker into Cas’ room. He can hear padded feet in the hallway, the click of his nails, and Cas always looks like he’s got more dog fur on him than he should come morning. 

A month goes by, though, and still he’s a dog. 

Sam quietly worries.

He finds Dean and Cas in the kitchen. Dean is licking bacon grease off of Cas’ fingers while Cas reads the newspaper, and it’s the perfect amount of weird and domestic that Sam’s come to expect from them. Still, he came here with very reasonable concerns and he’s not going to let the cuteness of this moment stop him. 

“It’s been over a month,” Sam says as he takes a seat across from Cas. 

Cas grimaces. “Yes it has.”

Sam waits, but when Cas doesn’t continue, he decides he has to. “You said it’d only be a couple weeks.” 

“I know.” 

“And? Are we going to try a counter spell now? I mean, Dean’s a cute dog or whatever and it probably did do him some good to have a mental vacation from real life for a bit, but this can’t go on forever-”

“I know, Sam.” Cas gently nudges Dean away. “I’d hoped he’d have figured things out by now.” 

“I’m sorry, but what?” 

“Spells like this run their course either by having a time limit - which I believe is not the drive behind this particular incarnation of the spellwork - or having a… a requirement that needs to be fulfilled. This tends to be a revelation that the person must have, or some goal they must achieve.” 

Sam blinks at Cas. “… Like Beauty and the Beast?” he can’t stop himself from asking. 

Cas considers, as if checking his memories of books and movies for a better understanding. “Yes, I think that is a fair comparison.” 

“So Dean hasn’t gotten someone to love him for who he is, becaues I’m pretty sure he had that before this started.” It’s not something he’d ever say in front of Dean normally, that little hint at him and Cas that always makes Dean blush and babble angry nonsense. 

Now Dean just starts scratching at his ear, so Sam’s pretty sure he’s safe. 

“Indeed,” Cas says wryly. “No, my guess is that he must have a personal revalation of some sort. He hasn’t had it yet, so he’s still stuck.” 

“… I thought you said he’s all there right now, how can he have a revalation?” 

Cas shrugs. “That’s probably why it’s taking so long. But you’ve seen him, he is still very much the Dean Winchester we know, if not somewhat striped down to the core aspects of his personality.” 

Sam vividly remembers Dean rushing into Sam’s room at four am, barking up a storm until Sam jumped out of bed, gun in hand, only to have Dean roll around on the ground happily in what Sam assumes was dog laughter. So yeah, still his big brother, just furrier. 

“Do you know what revalation he’s supposed to have…?” 

“I only have guesses,” Cas says with a dismissive tone. “Based on other similar spells I’ve read about. I couldn’t say with any certainty what his variation is.” 

Sam’s willing to put money down that this big revalation has something to do with Cas. He and Dean cleaned up their own issues years ago, and despite Dean and Cas getting along really well lately - no random arguments, hissy fits, or Cas disappearing for weeks - he doesn’t think they’ve had The Talk yet. So it’s either that or the bisexual thing, but Sam figures that goes hand in hand with the Cas thing these days. 

He doesn’t say any of this out loud, though. Cas is probably already thinking the same thing. It’s probably why he’s going out of his way to cater to Dean’s needs and whims as a dog, to give him ample opportunity to work through his mysterious revalation. 

Dean was always thickheaded as a human, it’s no surprise he still is as a dog. 

“Should we start researching counterspells?” Sam suggests. “As a Plan B?”

Cas sighs forlornly. “Yes, we probably should. I’d hoped he could do this on his own, but it might be a good idea.”

“Awesome. I’ll uh… I’ll get to work on that after lunch? And you can hang out with Dean in case he figures things out the old fashioned way?” 

“Yes, that sounds good,” Cas says. He looks sad, sadder than he has this whole time, and Sam almost feels bad for bringing it up at all. 

Leave it to Dean to break Cas’ heart even when he’s a dog and not even trying.

Cas looks at his phone well after the call has ended. His fingers trace the edges and he reconsiders if this is a good idea.

It is, and he knows it, but the moments he steals for himself in consideration seem important. As much as he doesn’t want to leave, he has to. He never likes to leave Dean, and it’s never stopped him before. His life since Dean has seen him pulled in many directions, and he’ll deal with it now as he has before.

Even if it hurts him to leave when Dean’s in the midst of a spell.

It’s a relatively benign spell, he reasons. Nothing Sam can’t handle. It won’t even hurt him if he’s stuck with the spell a little longer than planned… Jack and Claire need me, their predicament is more dangerous…

Suppressing a sigh, he puts his phone away and begins to look for Dean.

He finds Dean in the garage, sleeping on the hood of the Impala, still warm from their drive earlier. He doesn’t mean to wake Dean, but as soon as he settles onto the hood next to him, he perks up and his tail wags happily. Dean wiggles closer on the hood and rests his head on Cas’ lap, looking up at him with big eyes that aren’t green anymore but still clearly look so Dean it makes Cas’ heart melt.

For the next few minutes, he says nothing and merely cards his hands through Dean’s fur. It isn’t the same texture as Dean’s hair, but the sensation is just as pleasant. He thinks Dean might fall back to sleep and almost lets him. That would be counterproductive, so he stops himself from petting Dean.

Dean looks up at him, conveying his indignation easily enough.

“I have to go on a trip,” Cas says in a soothing tone. He’s not completely sure how much Dean understands, but he feels that he should explain before he disappears. “Jack and Claire need my help on a hunt. It’s only a 7 hour drive there, perhaps a couple days helping them, and then a 7 hour drive back. With Sam’s help, you might even be cured before I return. Will you be okay without me?”

Dean quirks his head to the side. 

Cas sighs and takes Dean’s face in both hands, massaging the fur there. “You don’t understand a word I’m saying, do you?” 

Dean leans in and nuzzles Cas’ face. 

“I’ll take that as a no. You’re not this friendly when you’re human, you know.” 

This time Dean licks him from chin to ear. It tickles, and Cas can’t help but laugh. 

It hurts that they can’t communicate, though he supposes that was never really their forte to begin with, but it is good to know Dean will be fine while he’s gone. 

“Want to come with me and help me pack?” he asks as he slides off the hood. 

Dean jumps down and happily barks before rushing back towards the bunker proper. 

“Guess that’s a yes,” Cas says fondly. It shouldn’t surprise him that he loves Dean just as much in this form as in his usual one, yet it does. 

He supposes Dean Winchester will never stop surprising him. 

Sam knows to expect it. 

He got Cas’ text while he was on his run and thankfully he read it before going inside, otherwise he’d be thrown for a loop. So he’s not unprepared when he pushes open the heavy door and is nearly mowed down by an anxious Dean who sniffs at him before jumping off him in disapointed disgust. 

Sam’s barely fast enough to tackle his brother and keep him running away. That would be a fucking disaster. 

His life has put him thorugh a lot of strange scenarios, but wrestling his brother turned dog into an underground bunker to keep him from running affter a fallen angel might top the list. 

“Cas is coming back!” he says again and again as he locks the door. It’s not easy with Dean scrambling to get by him and it’s only by sheer luck that Sam doens’t close it on his paws. “He’ll be gone a few days! He always comes back!” 

Dean has always been on the anxious side when it comes to Cas disappearing. Dogs are also on the anxious side when their owners disappear even for any reason. Combine the two and yeah, Sam’s not the least surprised that his brother is an anxious wreck. 

Mental note: Dean considers Cas his owner but doesn’t care when I leave. Yep, I need to send that witch a fruit basket for all the blackmail fodder she’s given me.

When Dean anxiously pees all over the library floor an hour later, Sam’s less convinced he owes the witch anything. 

“Why don’t we try calling Cas?” he suggests after he’s doused the floor in rubbing alcohol to cover the smell. He doesn’t expect an answer, but as soon as he says ‘Cas’, Dean goes rigid before hopping up and down. He barks every few seconds, the echo filling the whole damn library, until he sees Sam get out his form. 

“You are a fucking needy mess,” Sam mutters as he pulls up his contacts. “Lucky for you, Cas doesn’t seem to mind.” 

He puts it on speaker as soon as it starts dialing. Dean hushes immediately and jumps up, paws balanced on Sam so he can see the screen. Not that he can even understand or read it, but he seems to stare intently at the small picture of Cas. 

The line clicks through and Dean’s ears perk up. 

“Sam, is there something wrong? Is Dean back to normal-” 

Cas is cut off by a string of angry barks that Sam is reasonably confident would be profanity if Dean were human. He finally stops, as if satisfied he’s gotten his point across, and waits. 

“Dean,” Cays says with the same put upon sigh Sam’s come to know well over the years. “I told you, I have to go help Jack and Claire. I’ll be back in a few days. Sam will take care of you.” 

Dean whimpers, this load, shrill noise tha tmakes Sam wince. 

“Sam is perfectly capable of taking care of you,” Cas says back easily. 

Dean huffs in annoyance. 

Sam looks back and forth between his brother and the phone, wondering if maybe Cas can speak dog. But no, Sam knows better than that. It’s really just that he speaks Worried Dean. He’s had the same damn argument with Dean for over a decade now. (Minus the “Sam will take care of you” part. Hopefully.) He’s an expert. 

Cas sighs again. “I have another hour of driving before I arrive,” he says slowly, like he almost regrets what he’s about to say next. “I could stay on the line and talk to you…” 

One firm, aggressive bark followed by the hint of a growl. 

“Sam, do you mind?” 

“I’ll leave you on speaker phone. It’s fine, I’m not expecting any calls.” It does mean I can’t take a video of it, but I’ll live.

He carefully puts the phone on the library table. Dean stands on his hind legs, puts both paws on the table, and lays his head on them. He blinks with the sad eyes of a lonely dog, and Sam’s heart actually hurts a bit. If this is how much he misses Cas normally, no wonder he’s an insufferable dick whenever Cas isn’t around. 

“So Dean,” Cas says gently, the deep rumble of his voice making Dean’s tail wag. “Should I tell you a story?” 

Dean whimpers, Cas starts with a rendition of an old biblical story Sam more or less knows (though he can already hear Cas’ spin on it, or maybe it’s the actual truth, who’s to say), and Sam quietly slips out of the library to let them be.

Cas’ heart lurches as he receives another video from Sam. He knows what he’s likely to find when he opens it - Dean in some way distressed at his absence - but he can’t stop himself from looking anyway. So far he’s received videos and pictures of Dean howling, pacing, sprawled across a chair looking depressed, and a notable one where Sam’s basically spoonfeeding him dog food because he refused to eat otherwise. 

He’s done his best to help long distance: he’s called Dean when he has time to talk to him, he’s sent pictures of himself and the kids, he even did a video chat where he’s pretty confident Dean’s barks amounted to “you’re an idiot come back this instant how dare you leave me like this.”

It pains him that he’s hurting Dean, no matter how unintentional… and it makes him wonder if this is how Dean feels every time Cas leaves on a mission or a hunt without him. It would explain some of the lashing out he’s gotten accustomed to over the years, since apparently even as a human, Dean’s only good at bottling up his emotions instead of talking about them. 

Cas holds his breath as the video loads, and then he lets out a surprised laugh.

It’s Dean, sound asleep on Cas’ bed, buried in Cas’ old trenchcoat with one of his extra ties in his mouth, clearly mangled from being used as a chewtoy. 

“He really misses you, Cas,” Sam whispers at the end of the video. “For what it’s worth.” Then the video cuts off. 

Cas watches it no less than ten times before taking a screenshot of his favorite part. 

The good news is that the hunt is finished, they’ve cleaned everything up, and aside from having a meal with Claire and Jack (who, whenever the conversation inevitably lulls, will choke out “Dean’s a dog!” and start cackling, causing the other to join in almost immediately), he’ll be heading back to the bunker. He will have to make a minor pitstop to pick up spell ingredients - it seems Sam has cracked the code on how to reverse Dean’s predicament - and then he’ll be back, things will be normal again, and it won’t even matter that Dean’s currently in pain. 

He might not even remember it. 

That prospect saddens Cas a little bit. He feels that in some ways they’ve become closer since this mess happens, and it would be a shame to lose that. He wants Dean to remember that he was there for him as much as he could be… and at the same time, he is sure the memories would only embarrass Dean and make him uncomfortable. 

What will be will be, he supposes, and he’ll simply have to deal with the consequences either way. 

~ ~ ~

It’s many hours later when he arrives at the bunker. It’s quiet and dark, but it has that lived-in feeling that means the brothers are likely asleep. It’s late, the only reason Cas hadn’t called to check in or to tell Dean more stories over the drive. He didn’t think Sam would appreciate it, and if Dean was sleeping, there was no reason to disturb him. 

Cas quietly sets the ingredients on the map table before tiptoeing to his room. The spell can wait until morning, and perhaps he’s selfish enough to put it off for a few more hours. 

As he’d hoped, he finds Dean in his bed, still curled in the trenchcoat. 

Dean perks up immediately when he sees Cas, nearly tackling him bodily to the ground in his excitement.

“Yes,” Cas says while he pats Dean and endures lick after lick. “I missed you too.” 

It takes some time for Dean to stop, and then he’s physically shaking with excitement. Cas has to carry him to the bed, and even then Dean won’t stop trembling. Cas whispers assurances - “Shh, I’m here, I came back. I’ll always come back, Dean. If it’s at even remotely physically possible, I’ll find my way back to you. Shh, it’s okay. I’ll be here all night.” - while he pets Dean, gently working his hands into Dean’s head, his neck, his back to rub at the tense muscles there. 

Slowly, Dean falls asleep in his arms. He sighs deeply in contentment, then snores gently. He snores like that when he’s human, though he denies it, and Cas smiles to himself. 

Long after Dean’s asleep, he continues to hold and pet him. He will miss this, this opportunity to comfort Dean physically and keep him close. He’s more open like this, more expressive, more willing to accept what Cas is equally willing to offer. 

Soon enough, even Cas drifts off to sleep.

Cas wakes up with his face still buried in hair, the same rhythmic breathing under his hands, that he doesn’t notice anything’s different. He lays there, surrounded by Dean’s scent and his warmth, that it takes him a while to realize that Dean’s a lot bigger than he was last night. 

Cas immediately tenses, too scared to move in case Dean’s still asleep and there’s still time to salvage this mess- 

Sensing Cas is awake, Dean says with a rough, unused voice, “Was I… was I really a dog? Or was that a really fucking weird fever dream?” 

Cas swallows the lump in his throat. Dean hasn’t run away, so that’s a plus. 

“You were,” he confirms. 

A pause, before a thoughtful and somewhat worried, “Was I like, a small dog? Because I remember thinking you and Sam were huge.” 

“You were an average sized dog, I believe. As far as dogs go.” 

Dean hums an acknowledgement. He’s still there, in Cas’ arms. Cas can feel his heartbeat beneath his hand, steady. Dean’s in the clothes he was wearing on that hunt, smelling fainty of dog but also very human smells like sweat and blood. He drags his hand along the fabric in a small motion, a sublte motion to test the waters. 

Dean doesn’t stir, doesn’t try to pull away. It’s almost as if he doesn’t notice the touch, or if he does, he’s so used to it that it doesn’t register as strange. 

He might very well be too used to it to realize that as a human, this is not at all their norm.

“Are you okay?” he asks hesitantly. He wants to, needs to know, but he’s worried about the can of worms he’s opening. 

“Yeah, I think so. Kinda… fuzzy? I guess? Er, furry?” He doesn’t even laugh at his own joke. “Not quite all back yet, I think.” 

“Ah,” Cas says neutrally. That explains it. He’s physically human but not quite all mentally human yet. He’ll freak out soon, then. “How much do you remember?” 

“Uh, all of it? Maybe? The memories aren’t… normal. It’s not like when I try to remember stuff from before. It’s just… impressions. Smells. Sounds. A few images. Feelings,” he says, and that word hangs heavy in the air between them. The air feels charged now, more electric and dangerous than it was a moment ago. 

“And?” Cas prompts. He genuinely wants to know more, both for his own selfish reasons and out of sheer curoisity. 

“I knew you guys, you and Sam. Sam was familiar, like… like I knew he was family, he was safe and he would be good. And you…”

Dean takes a deep breath, and yes, this is it, here it comes.

“You were… safety? Home? I dunno, you were like how I feel as a human eating in to a slice of warm, fresh baked apple pie. You were… I dunno, everything?” 

Cas’ brain shuts down, his pulse picks up, and he feels vaguely like he might pass out. 

“And you would give me all this attention, and I fucking loved it. It was like the greatest thing ever. Better than sex, that’s how good it felt to dog brain me.” Dean’s voice wavers. “And then you left, and that was… awful. That was like when you died and we- and I-” 

His breath hitches, and Cas’ arms automatically tighten around him. 

“I’m here,” he can’t help but say. “I’m back. I always-”

“Come back,” Dean interrupts. His voice is strong again. “I know. I… know. I maybe wasn’t sure, but you said you’d come back and you did. I really thought you wouldn’t, but you did, and I still got to have you near me and taking care of me and… and I can always have that, right? I don’t have to be a stupid dog for you to do all that stuff. I don’t have to hide behind some spell, I don’t have to behind pretending I don’t know what I’m asking for and what you’re giving. We could just… do that all the time.” 

It clicks for Cas then, the way it must have for Dean sometime during the night. 

“Was that your revelation?” he teases. 

Dean wiggles around so that he’s facing him, his eyes a familiar and beautiful green, brighter than usual because they shine with unshed tears. 

“Yeah, I think it was. So… can we still do all that stuff?” 

“Are you saying you want me to rub your belly?” 

Dean laughs, and then he smiles and Cas thinks he might die. 

“Not exactly. I meant more the being together, the proximity, the touches, the uh… sharing a bed thing we’ve been doing.” 

“Of course we can do all of that,” Cas assures him. He sees Dean’s about to speak, so he hastily adds, “Under one condition.” 

Dean’s smile dims slightly as his nerves take over. He nods grimly, clearly preparing for the worst. 

“Kiss me?” Cas asks, then their lips meet before Cas can properly register Dean’s reaction. It’s soft, tender, and a little wet. 

“You kiss like a dog,” he says in surprise. 

“I do not. No one has ever said that.” 

“I’m saying it. Right now. This isn’t much different than when you would lick my face.” 

“First of all, how dare you. And B, c’mere.” He pulls Cas in and kisses him senseless, again and again like he might never stop. 

Overall, it’s easily the best moment of Cas’ life. 

- fin - 

Reference Chart: Scents for a/b/o fics

Feel free to make comments or suggestions - this is by no means a definitive list, just a start point. A lot of these categories and initial groupings are based off of this chart used for talking about wine.

Keep in mind when you’re choosing smells to consider: a.) the personalities of the character, b.) the smells of (future) mated pairs, to make sure they go together, and c.) if the mates take on parts of each other’s smells, which parts are getting combined and do those mesh well?

If you’d prefer to view the chart on Google Drive, click here.