deancasbigbang:

Title: Duck Duck Boots

Author: almaasi

Artist: Deancebra

Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean/Castiel. (Background Charlie/Billie. Rowena flirts with both Charlie and Sam; past minor Rowena/Gabriel; implications that Sam and Gabriel are endgame soulmates even though we never see them interact.)
Wordcount: 92000
Warnings/Tags: No major warnings, Biker Dean, Veterinarian Cas, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Animal Care, Tantric Sex, Impotence, Wet & Messy Sex, This fic features: Rowena + Charlie + Billie + Donna + Sam (+ adopted son Jack) + Jody + Balthazar + Gabriel + Benny + Kevin + Bobby + Rufus
Posting: 11/28/2018

Summary:

Castiel doesn’t DO one-night stands. Once he hit forty, he figured his time was up, his life had pretty much come to a halt, and there was nobody out there for him. He lives in a cute little village, riding his bicycle between his vet clinic and his cottage; that’s his world, and he’s given up on expanding it. But in one last, desperate attempt to find someone, he contacts Rowena, the local witch, and asks her to summon his soulmate. Rowena brings a storm. The storm washes up a trio of ducklings, huddled for shelter inside the rainboots of the new-to-town kindergarten teacher (and retired motorcycle daredevil), Dean Winchester. Ducklings in hand, Dean seeks out Castiel’s veterinary expertise. Somehow, in a flustered, spontaneous burst of attraction, they spend the night together. And just like that, Castiel’s life starts again. With every passing week they become better friends, sharing deeper intimacies, caring for their duck babies as well as each other. But staying together requires taking risks which neither of them planned for. Dean’s risk puts him in extreme physical jeopardy. And Cas? He has to overcome fifteen years of emotional hurt, just to follow where Dean leads.

---

“So, where do you live?” Dean asked. The sun played up the astonishing green pigment of his eyes, and Castiel now noticed just how many freckles Dean had on his face, across his cheeks and nose and forehead.

“Ah… Down the lane, a few miles,” Castiel said, gesturing with his chin towards the bridge that led out of the square. “Where’s your motorcycle?”

“Over the bridge,” Dean said, walking beside Castiel as they made their way there. “Didn’t seem polite to bring anything with that kind of horsepower into a delicate little place like this.” Dean shoved an elbow towards Castiel, then nodded at all the pretty flowerboxes and newly-leafed trees in planters. “Talk about a bull in a china shop. I got expert control but I’d hate to break somethin’.”

“Considerate,” Castiel said, unable to tear his gaze off the other man as they walked, Dean holding his box of ducks carefully. His skin glowed in the sunshine, apparently bronzed by years on the open road.

Dean tucked his lower lip under the tip of his tongue, making it shiny. He glanced at Castiel as they neared the foot of the bridge. “You know anythin’ about motorcycles?”

“Not a bit,” Castiel said honestly. “I only know they’re loud and fast.”

“And sexy,” Dean grinned, tilting his head. “No?”

Castiel chuckled, head down. “Perhaps. I’ve yet to see your bike in action.” He lifted his chin as they ascended the bridge. “I’m quite impressed, Dean. I saw you examining it but I didn’t find out until today— Rumour is you purchased the Chevy Impala outside Ellen’s inn.”

Dean scoffed. “Wow, word really gets around in this place, don’t it? Yeah. Yeah, she was the whole reason I even stopped here.”

“Ellen?”

“No, the Impala.”

“Ah.”

They slowed to a halt on the apex of the bridge, as Dean had lain a hand on the stonework, eager to peer over to see the river. Just outside the village square, the deep channel ran past central Ingen Steder Landsby like a moat, carved three feet under ground-level. Two swans sailed out from under the bridge, their shapes searing white on blue water. Willow tree roots hung into the water further along, and the line ran into the distance, masked by trees and bends in the river.

“God, this place is so beautiful,” Dean breathed.

Castiel felt a funny shock, deep inside: the static of realisation.

It was, wasn’t it? This place was Heaven on Earth. Castiel had always counted himself lucky to live here, and he’d been trying to practise gratitude – this was beautiful, he was lucky to see this – but it wasn’t until this very moment, standing within touching distance of Dean, hearing him speak as an outsider, that Castiel realised how blessed he really was.

Castiel stared at Dean, thankful for being shown something he’d never seen before, simply because he’d seen it too many times.