Stuck With You - SPN AU
Jun. 19th, 2016 11:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mayalaenTitle: Stuck With You
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13/Young Adult/Non-Explicit
Word Count: 4k
Alternate Link: AO3
Full List of Kinks and/or Warnings:AU, cosplay, meet-cute, conventions, vomiting, sick!Dean, fluff, schmoop, human!Castiel, hospitals, competition
Setting: AU
Summary: Dean wants to win the cosplay competition this year. Castiel wants to win the cosplay competition this year. If only that asshole with the awesome outfit wasn’t competing against him, he could win.
A/N: This was written for Anna (buckybee aka ifonenight) as a birthday present.
Bucky
Cas pulled his mask up from under his chin and checked that his left arm was attached before stepping out of his hotel room and clomping down the hallway. He had decided to skip any guns and just go with plastic knives after last year's debacle with security. You'd think cosplayers with fake guns swarming a building wouldn't freak security guards out, but apparently his was very realistic.
The convention had already been going for a full day, and Cas was ready to get some autographs and photo ops. He'd paid for three of them. He also planned on entering the cosplay competition.
He made his way into the building, nodding at anyone who complimented him on his outfit. He really had put a lot of effort into it. Bucky's left arm had been a big project that took him three weeks to make, but it was worth it. The rest of the outfit was easier, but he didn't rush, and it showed.
After browsing a few of the stands, he made his way to the Starbucks stand. There was a long line, but he really wanted a frappuccino. He didn't really like coffee, but he liked caffeine and frappuccinos were sweet and cold and so yummy.
There were at least twenty people ahead of him in line, so Cas hurried up to the end of the line before he was number twenty-two.
Steve
Dean had managed to get away before Sam had seen him fully decked out. He teased Sam for everything else, so it was really only fair that Sam could mock him for his cosplay, but Dean didn't want to hear it.
He was proud of the work he'd put into it. He looked damned good. So good that a little girl in the lobby of his hotel had asked him for an autograph. He'd done it for her, holding her up while the girl's mom took a picture of them. The mom thanked him as the girl ran off to show her dad Dean's autograph on her little shield, her utility belt flopping as she hurried.
"She picked everything out herself," the mom said.
Dean smiled. "It looks really good. I like the tool belt. Is that a sock on her head?"
The woman laughed. "I cut the holes for her eyes, but yes, that's one of her father's socks. I told her it would be tight, but she doesn't care. She said Captain America is tough and can handle a little pain."
Dean chuckled. "Yeah, he is tough. I'll see you down at the convention center."
"Okay, thanks again!" she said, waving goodbye.
Dean waved, then followed a furry out the door. He figured they were going the same way he was, and he was right.
Bucky
There were still nine people in front of Cas, and he was getting a little antsy. The competition was just over an hour away, and he wanted to see more of the stands before he had to get up on stage.
One more person left and he scooted forward just in time for someone to cut in front of him.
"Excuse me, but the back of the line is over there," Cas said, poking Captain America's shoulder.
Cap turned around and looked first at Cas, then his eyes followed the long line behind them. "Fuck," he whispered.
"Yeah, I've been here a while," Cas said.
"Hey, uhm," Cap said, leaning closer to Cas, "what if we do a Stucky thing and go up there together, like you were saving this spot in line for me."
Cas' eyes narrowed. "Huh?"
"Like we came as a couple. Stucky. Y'know, Bucky and Steve," Cap said, grinning, "gettin' it on."
Cas pulled a face. "No. You have to wait your turn. Captain America or not."
Cap sighed, then pushed by him. "Fine. Asshole."
Cas rolled his eyes.
Steve
By the time he got to the front of the line Dean was agitated. Well, more so than he was when Bucky wouldn't let him cut in line. He only had six minutes before the competition started, and he didn't want to be late.
"Thanks!" Dean said, throwing a ten-dollar bill at the woman behind the counter and sprinting for the conference room where they were holding the cosplay competition.
Years of tactical training kept him from dumping his latte on himself and others as he ran.
"Comin' through! Captain America saving the world!" he yelled, letting out a whoop of excitement as everyone cleared the way.
Dean snagged a number from the table and jogged into the conference room just as the woman at the table gave last call. He caught his breath at the left side of the stage, watching as everyone else straightened their outfits and made last-minute adjustments.
There were about five Bucky's ready to get on the stage, but Dean was easily able to pick out the Bucky who had refused to be his buddy in line at the Starbucks kiosk. His outfit was amazing.
Dean sighed. With Mr. Unfriendly Bucky in the competition, Dean wasn't sure how far he would get with his own costume. Blue-Eyed Bucky had gone all out.
Bucky
It had been a close call, but Cas walked off the stage with the grand prize. Cap had been a poor sport about the whole thing, grumbling under his breath as Cas walked by, but it didn't take the win away from Cas. The fact that Cap got second prize didn't bother him either, and it seemed to cheer Cap up a bit.
Cas stood around for pictures after the competition, signed some autographs, and headed back to his hotel room to put some of his things away before the photo ops he was scheduled for.
And after a long day of traipsing about and fighting the crowds, Cas trudged back to his room again one more time. He peeled off his mask and carefully unbuckled the arm, setting it on the dresser in his room. Just as he was about to start taking all the weapons out of his clothing, there was a thump on his door.
"Damn it," someone shouted from the other side of the door.
Cas frowned, creeping over to the door and taking a look through the peep hole. He sighed when he saw Captain America. Cas' door beeped and there was another thump on the door, this time louder.
"Damn it! Fucking work, you motherfucker!" Cap growled, then pounded on the door again.
Cas let the man swipe the card one more time before he pulled the door open. "Wrong room."
Cap looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. "Oh, sorry," he said, then wavered a bit as he stood there. "Hey, you're that guy. You're the Buck-Bucky! You were Bucky! You won the... You got the prize for the kick-ass Bucky cosplay!"
Cas nodded. "Yes. And you got second prize."
Cap frowned. "Would'a won if it wasn't for you."
Cas shrugged. "That's the way it goes."
The man wobbled a bit, then leaned on the doorway to hold himself up. "I'm not feelin' so good."
"I don't know where your room is," Cas said, "but you'd best find it and get to bed."
"No, I'm really not feelin' good," Cap said, swaying until he fell against the doorway. "I'm really no-ah!"
Cas jumped back in time for Cap to heave all over the entryway to the room. The man fell to his knees and kept going, more and more coming out of him until he did nothing but dry heaves.
Finally Cap sat back on his heels. "Sorry, man," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I have to sleep in this room!" Cas said, the bridge of his nose wrinkling from the smell.
"No, man, I'm really sorry. I'll pay for you to move rooms," Cap said. "I'm really sorry."
Cas stepped over the large spot of vomit and helped Cap up. "No need for that. Let's just get you to your room. What's the room number?"
"I don't remember," Cap said, then doubled over, holding his stomach as he vomited onto the carpet again.
Cas sighed as he let the man crumple down to the floor. "Tell me your name."
"Dean Winchester," the man said.
"I'm going to call the front desk," Cas said. "Wait here."
"No, don't do that," Dean said, breathing heavily. "I think I need to go to the emergency room."
"What? Why?" Cas asked.
Dean looked up at him, wincing. "I really don't feel good."
"You shouldn't have had so much to drink," Cas said, shaking his head.
"I didn't," Dean said. "I didn't even finish the beer I was drinking. And I was eating a burger at the time."
"Somehow I don't believe you," Cas said, rolling his eyes.
"No, I'm not lying," Dean said, then whimpered as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. "I swear it was only one beer. I don't know what's wrong."
Cas turned around and headed for the phone, but when he got halfway across the room he heard a soft whump. When he turned around he found Dean had passed out, landing face first in the vomit all over the floor.
Steve
Everything hurt. Everything. Even his toenails. He opened his eyes, then squeezed them shut again when the lights stabbed his eyes through to his brain.
"Oh, fuck," Dean groaned.
"Try to stay still," someone said.
Dean squinted up at the man. "You. You're the guy who won the competition earlier."
The man nodded. "Yes. I'm also the one who brought you to the emergency room last night."
"Last night?" Dean asked, then frowned as he looked around the room. Yup, he was in the hospital. He held out his left arm and sighed when he saw an IV attached. "What happened?"
"You don't remember coming to my hotel room last night?" the man asked, pulling his chair closer to the bed.
"Ugh, I didn't fuck you last night, did I?" Dean asked, rubbing his eyes.
The man chuckled. "No. You vomited all over my hotel room floor."
Dean lifted his head and stared at the man. "Huh? Really?"
The man nodded. "My name is Castiel. Cas."
"Hi, Castiel-Cas," Dean said, smirking.
"You didn't lose your charm," Cas said.
"Nah, nothin' takes that away," Dean said, shifting in the bed and getting comfortable. "So what happened?"
"Someone put something in your drink last night," Cas said.
Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "I was roofied?"
"No," Cas said, shaking his head. "It was Ecstasy cut with a mild narcotic, and the doctor said you had some kind of allergic reaction to the narcotic."
"Oh, yeah," Dean said, nodding. "I don't handle narcotics well, so I stay away from them. I've never tried Ecstasy though."
"Well, now you have," Cas said. "Did you enjoy it?"
Dean snorted. "Fuck, no."
"Good, then you won't have a problem with addiction," Cas said, shrugging. "The doctor said it happens a lot around conventions. People want to party and slip things into drinks just to have a good time."
"Sorry about your room," Dean said. "I'll pay for you to get another room tonight."
"Well, here's the thing," Cas said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. "The doctor doesn't want to release you unless you have somebody with you to keep an eye on you today and tonight."
Dean sighed. "Sam'll never let me hear the end of this. Besides, he's two thousand miles away."
"I didn't know if you lived nearby, but I already arranged a new room for us at the hotel," Cas said. "I got an upgrade to a nicer suite. The only down side is there's one bed. King-sized. The good news is there's a jacuzzi tub, a mini bar, a view of the ocean, and a free meal from room service in the hopes you don't sue them for getting drugged in their bar."
Dean chuckled. "Sounds nice."
"Yes, well, I may have threatened them a little," Cas said, grinning.
"You didn't have to do that," Dean said, "but thank you."
"It's no problem," Cas said. "They've already moved all our things up to the suite and your Captain America costume is being repaired and cleaned by a friend from the convention."
"Repaired?" Dean asked, stomach clenching.
"They had to cut you out of the pants," Cas said.
"Aw, man," Dean whined. "Why'd they do that?"
Cas winced. "You shit yourself and the pants were too tight to pull them off without your help."
"Oh," Dean said, frowning as he looked away, his cheeks flushing.
"It happens," Cas said, shrugging. "I'm going to tell the nurse you're awake and ready to go home."
Bucky
Dean had no idea why the guy was being so nice to him. He puked all over the poor guy's hotel room, and if that wasn't bad enough, he'd shit his pants on the ride to the hospital.
But Cas was being nice to him. He'd picked up sports drinks and crackers on the way back to the motel, taking the time to go into a supermarket while he also paid the cab to wait with Dean in it. When they got to the room, he'd drawn a bath for Dean and even helped him in.
"Are you pruney yet?" Cas asked, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
Dean held up a hand. "Yeah," he said. The bath was still warm, the jets felt amazing, and the candles Cas had lit in the room were relaxing him even more.
"C'mon, you need to get something in your stomach," Cas said as he held up a towel, standing just outside the bath.
Dean groaned. "It feels good in here. Don't wanna get up."
The chuckle from the other side of the towel made Dean smile. It was almost a giggle.
"Your stomach is empty, and if you don't eat something, you're going to get sick again," Cas said.
"Yes, sir," Dean grumbled as he pulled himself out of the tub.
"Get into bed," Cas said. "I'll clean up in here while you nibble on some crackers."
Dean let Cas help him to the bed, smiling when he saw Cas had set out a pair of black boxer shorts for him. "Thanks," he said as Cas walked into the bathroom.
"Get into bed!" Cas yelled from the bathroom.
Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he draped the wet towel on the end of the bed and carefully stepped into his boxers. He was still wobbly on his feet, but he managed to stay upright. Once his underwear were pulled up, he slid into bed, pulling the sheets up to his neck and snuggling down.
"Oh, this bed's much better than the one I slept in last night!" Dean yelled.
"The entire room is an upgrade," Cas said. "I asked for extra pillows, sheets, towels, and there's even tea over here when you think you can keep it down."
"It doesn't sound good right now, but I might be able to later," Dean said.
Cas came back into the bedroom, and Dean smiled when he realized Cas still had Bucky's pants and shirt on.
"What?" Cas asked.
"You didn't get changed yet," Dean said, pointing at the pants.
Cas walked to the dresser and pulled out some pajama bottoms. "I'm going to shower now. I didn't have a chance to change last night. I was busy freaking out because I thought you were dying."
"Oh," Dean said, an ache in his chest because there was some fear in Cas' voice. He must've really scared the man.
Dean wondered how he could make it up to him. He probably wouldn't have died had he passed out in his own room, but Cas was there for him and had gone above and beyond being neighborly, especially considering how Dean had treated him earlier in the day.
Bucky
Cas took his time in the shower. It felt good, and even though Dean had been given scrubs to wear when he left the hospital, Cas still had vomit on his clothes. He'd have to call Kevin and see if he could help him get his outfit cleaned. Kevin was good at that kind of thing.
He dried himself off and pulled his pajama pants on. After wiping down the bathroom and tossing the towel in the corner, he walked into the bedroom and smiled when he saw Dean was nibbling on crackers, just like he'd told him to.
"Is that settling okay?" Cas asked.
Dean muted the TV and smiled at Cas. "Yeah. I mean my stomach still feels funny, but I don't feel like puking my guts out anymore."
"Here, this will help keep it that way," Cas said, opening one of the bottles the hospital had given him and handing Dean a little white pill.
Dean took it without hesitation and downed it with a sip of Gatorade. "I probably should've asked before I took it, but that wasn't some kind of roofie, was it?"
Cas chuckled, shaking his head. "No. It'll help your stomach stay settled and make it easier to eat and drink."
"Oh, thanks," Dean said.
Cas climbed into bed and scooted up, sitting against the headboard. "What are we watching?"
"There's a superhero marathon," Dean said. "Right now all the Thor movies are being played in a row, then the Spiderman movies."
"Sounds good," Cas said, settling in to watch.
"So thank you for last night," Dean said. "That was really nice of you."
Cas shrugged. "You would've done the same for me."
"Even though I was an asshole yesterday," Dean mumbled.
Cas scooted a little closer. "Do you remember what happened last night at all?"
Dean shook his head. "I remember having something to eat and getting a beer, but I don't remember getting back to the hotel. I don't remember puking on your floor. I do remember somebody holding me in the cab on the way to the hospital. I'm guessing that was you."
"You thought you were dying," Cas said.
Dean huffed out a laugh. "Felt like it."
"I thought you were dying," Cas said. "At first I thought you were just drunk, but then you started having trouble breathing, and your skin got cold and clammy. Even once you passed out, you were moaning and trying to talk."
"Did I say anything you can hold over my head?" Dean asked, grinning at Cas.
There was, but Cas wasn't going to say it. "You were scared. You held onto me so tightly that it hurt, and even in the hospital the doctors couldn't get you to let go of me, and anytime I tried to pry you off, you thrashed about and screamed and swore that you were going to fall over and die if I wasn't right there."
"Sorry, Cas," Dean said.
"No, it's okay," Cas said, giving Dean a smile. "I felt bad for you. You were in a lot of pain, your muscles and joints locking up on you. The doctor said something about an allergic reaction, and they gave you something to help, but all it did was calm you down enough that you weren't screaming, and instead you just held onto me and cried."
Dean's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry."
"You told me I had beautiful eyes," Cas said, remembering the way Dean looked at him the night before. "You said I was your guardian angel, and nothing would happen to you if I stayed. You said I made you feel safe. And I haven't been able to be that for anybody in a long time."
Dean chuckled. "That's probably why still today I feel safe here even though we just met yesterday."
"I'm sorry I didn't let you cut in line," Cas said.
Dean rolled his eyes. "I was being an asshole. I was in a hurry to get to the competition and that was a really douche-y thing to do. I'm the one who should be apologizing."
"Yes," Cas said, nodding, "but the reason I wouldn't let you cut wasn't because you were being an ass."
Dean was about to take another sip of his Gatorade, but stopped halfway to his mouth. "Oh?"
"I knew you were heading to the competition, and I was worried you'd win," Cas said, his own cheeks feeling flushed.
Dean blinked at him for a moment, then let out a bark of laughter. "No! Seriously?"
Cas chuckled. "It was petty."
"Yeah, but I probably would've done the same thing," Dean said. "I really wanted to win."
"I liked the idea of going to the con as Stucky," Cas said, ducking his head a bit.
"Well, the weekend's not over," Dean said.
"Our costumes need washing and mending," Cas said, feeling a twinge of sadness. He really did want to go with Dean. "And I don't know if you'll feel up to going later today."
Dean sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I still feel shitty."
Cas smiled. "But we've got a superhero movie marathon to watch, free room service, all the pillows and towels we want, and plenty of crackers."
The smile on Dean's face told Cas he'd said the right thing. Dean's shoulders dropped a bit, his body relaxing, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with that smile.
When Cas scooted closer and wrapped his right arm around Dean's shoulders, Dean snuggled against him, and they settled in to watch the movies.
Steve
"Wait!" Dean said, grabbing Cas' arm and yanking him back down off the stage.
"What?" Cas asked, eyes wide.
"You need this before you go," Dean said, then kissed Cas on the cheek before pushing him back onto the stage.
Cas chuckled, walking to his place on the stage along with five other Bucky Barnes cosplayers. Dean would be up with the next set, and Cas would stand just off-stage to watch like Dean was doing for him.
This year Dean had made Cas a new arm. He'd welded it himself, and it looked even better than the one Cas had won last year's competition with. Cas had painted the star on the arm, and he'd also repainted Dean's shield, because even though Dean was great with welding and any kind of metal, he didn't have artistic fingers like Cas did.
Dean cheered as the Buckys filed off the stage, and they watched the others get on stage, waiting until it was Dean's turn.
"Don't eat any of the stuff on the tables they have set out," Dean whispered to Cas.
"Why not?" Cas asked, frowning.
Dean pulled Cas closer, wrapping his arms around him. "'Cause I'm taking you out to dinner."
"Oh? Sounds good. Do I need to dress up?" Cas asked.
Dean shook his head. "Nah, it's that places you talked about taking me last year, but I was too sick to go."
"Much better burgers than the one you had that night," Cas said. "Good. I'm glad we finally get to go."
"My turn," Dean said as they called the Steves up on stage.
Dean winked at Cas as he headed up onto the stage. He couldn't wait to get Cas to the restaurant. It had all been arranged ahead of time, and the ring he had in his pocket felt heavy against his leg even though he knew it wasn't really all that heavy. He was nervous and excited all at once.
He was going to pop the question one year from the day they'd met. One year from the day Dean had vomited all over Cas' hotel floor. One year from the day Dean had held on and wouldn't let go. Six months from the day Cas turned to him and admitted he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go.
End.
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13/Young Adult/Non-Explicit
Word Count: 4k
Alternate Link: AO3
Full List of Kinks and/or Warnings:
Setting: AU
Summary: Dean wants to win the cosplay competition this year. Castiel wants to win the cosplay competition this year. If only that asshole with the awesome outfit wasn’t competing against him, he could win.
A/N: This was written for Anna (buckybee aka ifonenight) as a birthday present.
Bucky
Cas pulled his mask up from under his chin and checked that his left arm was attached before stepping out of his hotel room and clomping down the hallway. He had decided to skip any guns and just go with plastic knives after last year's debacle with security. You'd think cosplayers with fake guns swarming a building wouldn't freak security guards out, but apparently his was very realistic.
The convention had already been going for a full day, and Cas was ready to get some autographs and photo ops. He'd paid for three of them. He also planned on entering the cosplay competition.
He made his way into the building, nodding at anyone who complimented him on his outfit. He really had put a lot of effort into it. Bucky's left arm had been a big project that took him three weeks to make, but it was worth it. The rest of the outfit was easier, but he didn't rush, and it showed.
After browsing a few of the stands, he made his way to the Starbucks stand. There was a long line, but he really wanted a frappuccino. He didn't really like coffee, but he liked caffeine and frappuccinos were sweet and cold and so yummy.
There were at least twenty people ahead of him in line, so Cas hurried up to the end of the line before he was number twenty-two.
Steve
Dean had managed to get away before Sam had seen him fully decked out. He teased Sam for everything else, so it was really only fair that Sam could mock him for his cosplay, but Dean didn't want to hear it.
He was proud of the work he'd put into it. He looked damned good. So good that a little girl in the lobby of his hotel had asked him for an autograph. He'd done it for her, holding her up while the girl's mom took a picture of them. The mom thanked him as the girl ran off to show her dad Dean's autograph on her little shield, her utility belt flopping as she hurried.
"She picked everything out herself," the mom said.
Dean smiled. "It looks really good. I like the tool belt. Is that a sock on her head?"
The woman laughed. "I cut the holes for her eyes, but yes, that's one of her father's socks. I told her it would be tight, but she doesn't care. She said Captain America is tough and can handle a little pain."
Dean chuckled. "Yeah, he is tough. I'll see you down at the convention center."
"Okay, thanks again!" she said, waving goodbye.
Dean waved, then followed a furry out the door. He figured they were going the same way he was, and he was right.
Bucky
There were still nine people in front of Cas, and he was getting a little antsy. The competition was just over an hour away, and he wanted to see more of the stands before he had to get up on stage.
One more person left and he scooted forward just in time for someone to cut in front of him.
"Excuse me, but the back of the line is over there," Cas said, poking Captain America's shoulder.
Cap turned around and looked first at Cas, then his eyes followed the long line behind them. "Fuck," he whispered.
"Yeah, I've been here a while," Cas said.
"Hey, uhm," Cap said, leaning closer to Cas, "what if we do a Stucky thing and go up there together, like you were saving this spot in line for me."
Cas' eyes narrowed. "Huh?"
"Like we came as a couple. Stucky. Y'know, Bucky and Steve," Cap said, grinning, "gettin' it on."
Cas pulled a face. "No. You have to wait your turn. Captain America or not."
Cap sighed, then pushed by him. "Fine. Asshole."
Cas rolled his eyes.
Steve
By the time he got to the front of the line Dean was agitated. Well, more so than he was when Bucky wouldn't let him cut in line. He only had six minutes before the competition started, and he didn't want to be late.
"Thanks!" Dean said, throwing a ten-dollar bill at the woman behind the counter and sprinting for the conference room where they were holding the cosplay competition.
Years of tactical training kept him from dumping his latte on himself and others as he ran.
"Comin' through! Captain America saving the world!" he yelled, letting out a whoop of excitement as everyone cleared the way.
Dean snagged a number from the table and jogged into the conference room just as the woman at the table gave last call. He caught his breath at the left side of the stage, watching as everyone else straightened their outfits and made last-minute adjustments.
There were about five Bucky's ready to get on the stage, but Dean was easily able to pick out the Bucky who had refused to be his buddy in line at the Starbucks kiosk. His outfit was amazing.
Dean sighed. With Mr. Unfriendly Bucky in the competition, Dean wasn't sure how far he would get with his own costume. Blue-Eyed Bucky had gone all out.
Bucky
It had been a close call, but Cas walked off the stage with the grand prize. Cap had been a poor sport about the whole thing, grumbling under his breath as Cas walked by, but it didn't take the win away from Cas. The fact that Cap got second prize didn't bother him either, and it seemed to cheer Cap up a bit.
Cas stood around for pictures after the competition, signed some autographs, and headed back to his hotel room to put some of his things away before the photo ops he was scheduled for.
And after a long day of traipsing about and fighting the crowds, Cas trudged back to his room again one more time. He peeled off his mask and carefully unbuckled the arm, setting it on the dresser in his room. Just as he was about to start taking all the weapons out of his clothing, there was a thump on his door.
"Damn it," someone shouted from the other side of the door.
Cas frowned, creeping over to the door and taking a look through the peep hole. He sighed when he saw Captain America. Cas' door beeped and there was another thump on the door, this time louder.
"Damn it! Fucking work, you motherfucker!" Cap growled, then pounded on the door again.
Cas let the man swipe the card one more time before he pulled the door open. "Wrong room."
Cap looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. "Oh, sorry," he said, then wavered a bit as he stood there. "Hey, you're that guy. You're the Buck-Bucky! You were Bucky! You won the... You got the prize for the kick-ass Bucky cosplay!"
Cas nodded. "Yes. And you got second prize."
Cap frowned. "Would'a won if it wasn't for you."
Cas shrugged. "That's the way it goes."
The man wobbled a bit, then leaned on the doorway to hold himself up. "I'm not feelin' so good."
"I don't know where your room is," Cas said, "but you'd best find it and get to bed."
"No, I'm really not feelin' good," Cap said, swaying until he fell against the doorway. "I'm really no-ah!"
Cas jumped back in time for Cap to heave all over the entryway to the room. The man fell to his knees and kept going, more and more coming out of him until he did nothing but dry heaves.
Finally Cap sat back on his heels. "Sorry, man," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I have to sleep in this room!" Cas said, the bridge of his nose wrinkling from the smell.
"No, man, I'm really sorry. I'll pay for you to move rooms," Cap said. "I'm really sorry."
Cas stepped over the large spot of vomit and helped Cap up. "No need for that. Let's just get you to your room. What's the room number?"
"I don't remember," Cap said, then doubled over, holding his stomach as he vomited onto the carpet again.
Cas sighed as he let the man crumple down to the floor. "Tell me your name."
"Dean Winchester," the man said.
"I'm going to call the front desk," Cas said. "Wait here."
"No, don't do that," Dean said, breathing heavily. "I think I need to go to the emergency room."
"What? Why?" Cas asked.
Dean looked up at him, wincing. "I really don't feel good."
"You shouldn't have had so much to drink," Cas said, shaking his head.
"I didn't," Dean said. "I didn't even finish the beer I was drinking. And I was eating a burger at the time."
"Somehow I don't believe you," Cas said, rolling his eyes.
"No, I'm not lying," Dean said, then whimpered as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. "I swear it was only one beer. I don't know what's wrong."
Cas turned around and headed for the phone, but when he got halfway across the room he heard a soft whump. When he turned around he found Dean had passed out, landing face first in the vomit all over the floor.
Steve
Everything hurt. Everything. Even his toenails. He opened his eyes, then squeezed them shut again when the lights stabbed his eyes through to his brain.
"Oh, fuck," Dean groaned.
"Try to stay still," someone said.
Dean squinted up at the man. "You. You're the guy who won the competition earlier."
The man nodded. "Yes. I'm also the one who brought you to the emergency room last night."
"Last night?" Dean asked, then frowned as he looked around the room. Yup, he was in the hospital. He held out his left arm and sighed when he saw an IV attached. "What happened?"
"You don't remember coming to my hotel room last night?" the man asked, pulling his chair closer to the bed.
"Ugh, I didn't fuck you last night, did I?" Dean asked, rubbing his eyes.
The man chuckled. "No. You vomited all over my hotel room floor."
Dean lifted his head and stared at the man. "Huh? Really?"
The man nodded. "My name is Castiel. Cas."
"Hi, Castiel-Cas," Dean said, smirking.
"You didn't lose your charm," Cas said.
"Nah, nothin' takes that away," Dean said, shifting in the bed and getting comfortable. "So what happened?"
"Someone put something in your drink last night," Cas said.
Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "I was roofied?"
"No," Cas said, shaking his head. "It was Ecstasy cut with a mild narcotic, and the doctor said you had some kind of allergic reaction to the narcotic."
"Oh, yeah," Dean said, nodding. "I don't handle narcotics well, so I stay away from them. I've never tried Ecstasy though."
"Well, now you have," Cas said. "Did you enjoy it?"
Dean snorted. "Fuck, no."
"Good, then you won't have a problem with addiction," Cas said, shrugging. "The doctor said it happens a lot around conventions. People want to party and slip things into drinks just to have a good time."
"Sorry about your room," Dean said. "I'll pay for you to get another room tonight."
"Well, here's the thing," Cas said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. "The doctor doesn't want to release you unless you have somebody with you to keep an eye on you today and tonight."
Dean sighed. "Sam'll never let me hear the end of this. Besides, he's two thousand miles away."
"I didn't know if you lived nearby, but I already arranged a new room for us at the hotel," Cas said. "I got an upgrade to a nicer suite. The only down side is there's one bed. King-sized. The good news is there's a jacuzzi tub, a mini bar, a view of the ocean, and a free meal from room service in the hopes you don't sue them for getting drugged in their bar."
Dean chuckled. "Sounds nice."
"Yes, well, I may have threatened them a little," Cas said, grinning.
"You didn't have to do that," Dean said, "but thank you."
"It's no problem," Cas said. "They've already moved all our things up to the suite and your Captain America costume is being repaired and cleaned by a friend from the convention."
"Repaired?" Dean asked, stomach clenching.
"They had to cut you out of the pants," Cas said.
"Aw, man," Dean whined. "Why'd they do that?"
Cas winced. "You shit yourself and the pants were too tight to pull them off without your help."
"Oh," Dean said, frowning as he looked away, his cheeks flushing.
"It happens," Cas said, shrugging. "I'm going to tell the nurse you're awake and ready to go home."
Bucky
Dean had no idea why the guy was being so nice to him. He puked all over the poor guy's hotel room, and if that wasn't bad enough, he'd shit his pants on the ride to the hospital.
But Cas was being nice to him. He'd picked up sports drinks and crackers on the way back to the motel, taking the time to go into a supermarket while he also paid the cab to wait with Dean in it. When they got to the room, he'd drawn a bath for Dean and even helped him in.
"Are you pruney yet?" Cas asked, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
Dean held up a hand. "Yeah," he said. The bath was still warm, the jets felt amazing, and the candles Cas had lit in the room were relaxing him even more.
"C'mon, you need to get something in your stomach," Cas said as he held up a towel, standing just outside the bath.
Dean groaned. "It feels good in here. Don't wanna get up."
The chuckle from the other side of the towel made Dean smile. It was almost a giggle.
"Your stomach is empty, and if you don't eat something, you're going to get sick again," Cas said.
"Yes, sir," Dean grumbled as he pulled himself out of the tub.
"Get into bed," Cas said. "I'll clean up in here while you nibble on some crackers."
Dean let Cas help him to the bed, smiling when he saw Cas had set out a pair of black boxer shorts for him. "Thanks," he said as Cas walked into the bathroom.
"Get into bed!" Cas yelled from the bathroom.
Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he draped the wet towel on the end of the bed and carefully stepped into his boxers. He was still wobbly on his feet, but he managed to stay upright. Once his underwear were pulled up, he slid into bed, pulling the sheets up to his neck and snuggling down.
"Oh, this bed's much better than the one I slept in last night!" Dean yelled.
"The entire room is an upgrade," Cas said. "I asked for extra pillows, sheets, towels, and there's even tea over here when you think you can keep it down."
"It doesn't sound good right now, but I might be able to later," Dean said.
Cas came back into the bedroom, and Dean smiled when he realized Cas still had Bucky's pants and shirt on.
"What?" Cas asked.
"You didn't get changed yet," Dean said, pointing at the pants.
Cas walked to the dresser and pulled out some pajama bottoms. "I'm going to shower now. I didn't have a chance to change last night. I was busy freaking out because I thought you were dying."
"Oh," Dean said, an ache in his chest because there was some fear in Cas' voice. He must've really scared the man.
Dean wondered how he could make it up to him. He probably wouldn't have died had he passed out in his own room, but Cas was there for him and had gone above and beyond being neighborly, especially considering how Dean had treated him earlier in the day.
Bucky
Cas took his time in the shower. It felt good, and even though Dean had been given scrubs to wear when he left the hospital, Cas still had vomit on his clothes. He'd have to call Kevin and see if he could help him get his outfit cleaned. Kevin was good at that kind of thing.
He dried himself off and pulled his pajama pants on. After wiping down the bathroom and tossing the towel in the corner, he walked into the bedroom and smiled when he saw Dean was nibbling on crackers, just like he'd told him to.
"Is that settling okay?" Cas asked.
Dean muted the TV and smiled at Cas. "Yeah. I mean my stomach still feels funny, but I don't feel like puking my guts out anymore."
"Here, this will help keep it that way," Cas said, opening one of the bottles the hospital had given him and handing Dean a little white pill.
Dean took it without hesitation and downed it with a sip of Gatorade. "I probably should've asked before I took it, but that wasn't some kind of roofie, was it?"
Cas chuckled, shaking his head. "No. It'll help your stomach stay settled and make it easier to eat and drink."
"Oh, thanks," Dean said.
Cas climbed into bed and scooted up, sitting against the headboard. "What are we watching?"
"There's a superhero marathon," Dean said. "Right now all the Thor movies are being played in a row, then the Spiderman movies."
"Sounds good," Cas said, settling in to watch.
"So thank you for last night," Dean said. "That was really nice of you."
Cas shrugged. "You would've done the same for me."
"Even though I was an asshole yesterday," Dean mumbled.
Cas scooted a little closer. "Do you remember what happened last night at all?"
Dean shook his head. "I remember having something to eat and getting a beer, but I don't remember getting back to the hotel. I don't remember puking on your floor. I do remember somebody holding me in the cab on the way to the hospital. I'm guessing that was you."
"You thought you were dying," Cas said.
Dean huffed out a laugh. "Felt like it."
"I thought you were dying," Cas said. "At first I thought you were just drunk, but then you started having trouble breathing, and your skin got cold and clammy. Even once you passed out, you were moaning and trying to talk."
"Did I say anything you can hold over my head?" Dean asked, grinning at Cas.
There was, but Cas wasn't going to say it. "You were scared. You held onto me so tightly that it hurt, and even in the hospital the doctors couldn't get you to let go of me, and anytime I tried to pry you off, you thrashed about and screamed and swore that you were going to fall over and die if I wasn't right there."
"Sorry, Cas," Dean said.
"No, it's okay," Cas said, giving Dean a smile. "I felt bad for you. You were in a lot of pain, your muscles and joints locking up on you. The doctor said something about an allergic reaction, and they gave you something to help, but all it did was calm you down enough that you weren't screaming, and instead you just held onto me and cried."
Dean's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry."
"You told me I had beautiful eyes," Cas said, remembering the way Dean looked at him the night before. "You said I was your guardian angel, and nothing would happen to you if I stayed. You said I made you feel safe. And I haven't been able to be that for anybody in a long time."
Dean chuckled. "That's probably why still today I feel safe here even though we just met yesterday."
"I'm sorry I didn't let you cut in line," Cas said.
Dean rolled his eyes. "I was being an asshole. I was in a hurry to get to the competition and that was a really douche-y thing to do. I'm the one who should be apologizing."
"Yes," Cas said, nodding, "but the reason I wouldn't let you cut wasn't because you were being an ass."
Dean was about to take another sip of his Gatorade, but stopped halfway to his mouth. "Oh?"
"I knew you were heading to the competition, and I was worried you'd win," Cas said, his own cheeks feeling flushed.
Dean blinked at him for a moment, then let out a bark of laughter. "No! Seriously?"
Cas chuckled. "It was petty."
"Yeah, but I probably would've done the same thing," Dean said. "I really wanted to win."
"I liked the idea of going to the con as Stucky," Cas said, ducking his head a bit.
"Well, the weekend's not over," Dean said.
"Our costumes need washing and mending," Cas said, feeling a twinge of sadness. He really did want to go with Dean. "And I don't know if you'll feel up to going later today."
Dean sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I still feel shitty."
Cas smiled. "But we've got a superhero movie marathon to watch, free room service, all the pillows and towels we want, and plenty of crackers."
The smile on Dean's face told Cas he'd said the right thing. Dean's shoulders dropped a bit, his body relaxing, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with that smile.
When Cas scooted closer and wrapped his right arm around Dean's shoulders, Dean snuggled against him, and they settled in to watch the movies.
Steve
"Wait!" Dean said, grabbing Cas' arm and yanking him back down off the stage.
"What?" Cas asked, eyes wide.
"You need this before you go," Dean said, then kissed Cas on the cheek before pushing him back onto the stage.
Cas chuckled, walking to his place on the stage along with five other Bucky Barnes cosplayers. Dean would be up with the next set, and Cas would stand just off-stage to watch like Dean was doing for him.
This year Dean had made Cas a new arm. He'd welded it himself, and it looked even better than the one Cas had won last year's competition with. Cas had painted the star on the arm, and he'd also repainted Dean's shield, because even though Dean was great with welding and any kind of metal, he didn't have artistic fingers like Cas did.
Dean cheered as the Buckys filed off the stage, and they watched the others get on stage, waiting until it was Dean's turn.
"Don't eat any of the stuff on the tables they have set out," Dean whispered to Cas.
"Why not?" Cas asked, frowning.
Dean pulled Cas closer, wrapping his arms around him. "'Cause I'm taking you out to dinner."
"Oh? Sounds good. Do I need to dress up?" Cas asked.
Dean shook his head. "Nah, it's that places you talked about taking me last year, but I was too sick to go."
"Much better burgers than the one you had that night," Cas said. "Good. I'm glad we finally get to go."
"My turn," Dean said as they called the Steves up on stage.
Dean winked at Cas as he headed up onto the stage. He couldn't wait to get Cas to the restaurant. It had all been arranged ahead of time, and the ring he had in his pocket felt heavy against his leg even though he knew it wasn't really all that heavy. He was nervous and excited all at once.
He was going to pop the question one year from the day they'd met. One year from the day Dean had vomited all over Cas' hotel floor. One year from the day Dean had held on and wouldn't let go. Six months from the day Cas turned to him and admitted he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go.
End.