Tick Tock (Destiel Soulmate AU)

July 24th, 6:13:04 AM

Aaaaahhh! I keep on saying that I'll update everyday, but then I always forget and...ahhhh! Basically I have no schedule anymore and I'll update whenever I remember to (which I hope is a lot).

I'll update two chapters today to make up for me being a hot mess.

Dean groaned, rolling over to sleep on his stomach. He could hear Cas sleeping next to him, his breathes steady and slow. Groaning once more, Dean curled up into a little ball, muscles aching.

The hell? I feel like shit.

Sweating like a dog, Dean was as weak as an ant. He felt feverish, like he couldn't move a muscle. His head heart like hell, and even under the light cotton sheet he was radiating heat like a brick right out of the oven. 

Barking out a cough that wheezed its way out, Dean realized that he had woken Cas up, who was currently sitting up and blinking down, confused, at him; Cas’s hair stuck up every which way, and he frowned, taking Dean’s head silently in his lap and pressing the back of his hand onto Dean’s forehead. 

“Dean,” Cas rasped out, still half asleep. It was, after all, about an hour before Cas had to wake up for his class that day, and they had fallen asleep at an ungodly hour last night because there had been a Harry Potter marathon on TV. “I think you have a fever.”

He didn’t reply, just lay there with his eyes closed and relished in Cas stroking his hair softly. Cas stopped and the touch was missed immediately, Dean peeked open his eyes just in time to see Cas getting off the bad and putting on his shirt; He had quickly found out that Cas didn’t like sleeping in a shirt, at all. Not that Dean was complaining. He enjoyed the view. 

Dean turned on his side, moaning softly and putting the back of his hand on his forehead. Burning hot. He was sweating like a dog, despite the AC being turned on at full blast all night. He heard Cas enter his closet, yawning and stretching, and it was quite dark in the room; The only light source was the small nightlight Cas always kept on in the very far corner of his room, him being afraid of the dark and all. 

A few minutes passed and Dean felt a hand on his chest; Cas was probably standing over him. 

“Come on, darling,” Cas soothed, and Dean would’ve smacked him for calling him that girly nickname if he hadn’t felt so terrible, “sit up just for a second and we can change you into some comfortable clothing. You’ll feel way better, I promise.”

“Ugh, Cas,” he groaned, “I’m comfortable. Don’t make me get up.”

“You’re in jeans and a shirt. I have my old pajamas that’ll fit you. Sit up please.”

“Cas, I-”

“You know that I’m not going to stop until you do,” the Milton said sharply, and Dean knew that he was right because Cas was the most powerful force not to be reckoned with. He tried arguing anyway.

“Can I just-”

“We can do this the easy way,” Cas said matter-of-factly, “or the hard way.”