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Title; Flying with the Clouds

Rating; PG

Summary; Castiel has the best way to cure Dean's fear of flying.

Authors Notes;I was in the mood for a bit of fluff, and then I saw a photo on Tumblr, and then this was born. :D If it's bad, then I'm just in one of those moods. 3

Flying with the Clouds

"Do you trust me?"

Dean lowered his head, gathering up his courage in a deep breath, and turned around. Castiel watched him with half a smile on his face. From the moment that Dean laid eyes on Castiel, he knew this was a man he would have difficulty resisting. Really, it was unfair.

But to ask him something like this, it was kind of cruel as well as unfair, considering his track record.

"Yeah," Dean found himself saying, in spite of his judgement.

He didn't get any warning. Castiel gathered him under the arms, and his wings outstretched, trembling a little from the excitement that poured from their owner. Dean tried not to panic as his feet left the ground. He would later protest adamantly that he did not shriek like a girl, even though that's totally what he did.

"Open your eyes," said Castiel. And Dean, who had no recollection of ever shutting them, opened his eyes.

They were heading toward the clouds. Both of them knew that Castiel could fly much quicker than this, and both of them knew why he wasn't.

"I want you to enjoy this, Dean," said Castiel, his breath ghosting across Dean's cheek, sending delicious shivers rolling down Dean's spine. "I won't drop you. I won't let you fall. You're as safe with me in the air as you are on the ground."

One of Castiel's hands lowered from his chest, holding him under the belly, and the other pulled at Dean's arm, outstretching it. Dean let out a hoarse, panicked breath.

"Relax," said Castiel. "Just let me do this."

He grabbed Dean's other hand, pulling it from its death grip on Castiel's wrist.

Now Dean had his own wings. The wind whistled past Dean's face. He gasped, amazed. He figured the only reason he was enjoying this was because he trusted Castiel with his life, more than he would ever trust a plane, which was a death trap wrapped in metal.

Everything looked so small from up here. So small, and so beautiful all the same.

"Woo!" Dean yelled, grinning exultantly. He figured that if he really tried, he could brush along a cloud and feel the moisture. Fuck, he felt as light as a damn cloud. "Wooo!"

Above them was a particularly thick group of clouds. Dean could practically feel the grin on Castiel's face when he said, "Hold on. It's about to get a little wet." And then they were shooting straight through the clouds, getting soaked and having absolutely no fucking regrets about it.

"Look at that," said Castiel, pointing. "That's what I see whenever I come up here."

A couple of tiny clouds were trying to block out the sun, although a few of the rays danced around them. It was just a mass of dark grey and bright orange. The rays barely touched most of the grey mass below them, except along the edges.

Dean, for once, was speechless.

"Do you like it?" Castiel asked. He sounded a little nervous.

"Yeah," said Dean, after trying to form words for a few seconds, his mouth hanging open.

"Flying isn't all that bad," said Castiel.

"I could think of worse things than flying with you," said Dean in agreement. "Like flying in a plane."

Castiel chuckled. "Well, I can think of something better than this."

"Oh, yeah?" said Dean, having a difficult time pulling his gaze from the clouds. They had to be one of the most beautiful things Dean had ever seen, but he probably wouldn't tell anyone that.

The arm around Dean's face lifted to his face, grasping his chin lightly and pulling his head to the side. His cheek momentarily brushed against Castiel's, and he knew that he should be more freaked out than what he was, should be telling Castiel off about chick-flick moments—

And their lips met, and everything that Dean was about to protest about skittered from his mind and exploded into dust. He reached back with one arm, wrapping it around the back of Castiel's neck, keeping him right where he wanted him.

No, the scenery was the second most beautiful thing.

Not that Dean would say so.

The End

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January 2012

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