casthewise:

Contrary to popular belief, Dean is not worried about Cas. Does he start subtly tailing him around the Bunker? No. It could maybe be interpreted that that’s what he’s doing, but he’s actually just got a bunch of shit to do that just so happens to be in whatever room Cas is occupying at the moment. It’s a coincidence, thank you very much. Jesus, Sam, it’s not like Dean’s a stalker.

Except that he’s a little bit of a stalker.

Fine, okay—yes, Dean does start kind of… mother-henning a little bit. Does he freak out when the leaves turn and Cas goes out without a hat? Yeah. But that’s only because he doesn’t want to deal with the guy once he inevitably gets sick! It isn’t worrying, per se. Dean’s actions are totally motivated by self-interest. 

Seriously, he could care less that Castiel, freshly-Fallen-Angel-of-the-Lord, spends like four hours a day outside doing god knows what. That’s not a thing Dean thinks about at all. And like, the fact that Cas always comes back all smiley? Or leaves with a lunchbox? He doesn’t give a single fuck. Not one. 

Which is why, of course, Dean is now following roughly twenty paces behind Castiel, hunched over and, by everyone else’s definition of the word: sneaking. Of course, according to the Exhaustive and Wholly Accurate Dictionary of Dean Winchester, he is taking a nice, long walk. Alone. To get some air. And he’s hunched over because it’s cold—oh hey, wow, is that Cas? Huh, what are the odds!

It should be noted that Dean is fooling exactly no one.

Except, it seems, Castiel, who has apparently just been thrilled to have the eldest (more attractive) Winchester stuck to his ass for two weeks. Which is… kind of awesome, from Dean’s perspective. For no particular reason. 

Dean follows Cas into the woods behind the Bunker in what he considers to be stealth mode, and it turns out he doesn’t have to trail him for very long. Castiel soon discovers he has a human visitor when a fucking mangy wolf fucking jumps him from out of nowhere. 

And the wild thing? While Dean is yelling for Cas to save himself and trying to fight the damn beast off, Castiel just whistles twice, speaking softly in what sounds like Enochian before the thing goddamn whimpers like it’s disappointed and lopes back to… to who… its master?? Did Cas tame a wolf???

The mutt licks the side of Castiel’s face, and Dean figures that’s an unequivocal yes. 

What the fuck.

The fucker’s even laughing; one of those whole, fully-body things as the wolf knocks him off his feet and tackles him like they’re cubs play-fighting. Cas wears that really pretty, gummy smile Dean loves, and scratches behind her ears. “Good girl, Moz.”

“Moh-zod,” Dean mumbles to himself, frowning. What the hell kinda name is that?

Pushing her off of him, Castiel sits up and wraps his arms around her, playfully growling into the fur of her neck. Dean’s nose wrinkles in disgust because jesus, man, you got no idea where she’s been. 

“Dean,” Cas says, like they walked out here hand-in-hand instead of in a shroud of deception. “Meet Moz—Joy. That’s her name in English. She was abandoned by her pack and found me about a month ago.”

“Found you…?”

Castiel nods. “Mm. I was on a walk when she came right up to me.” He kisses her muzzle. “She was lost, too. Weren’t you?” he asks her with a smile. Looking at Dean, he says, “she must have sensed me.”

“Sensed you. Right.”

Except the more Dean thinks about it, the more he becomes convinced of the fact that—yeah, of course a wolf found Cas in the middle of fucking Kansas when they haven’t been here for generations. Of course. And of course, the dumbass decided to make friends with it. And of course… of course he look so happy, sitting on the muddy ground, play-fighting with a frickin’ predator. A-And he reaches into his freaking lunchbox to get a piece of raw porc and feed it to what should be a dangerous, wild animal. 

But she’s not, here. She’s… sweet. Misunderstood. Happy. Above all, Dean can tell she’s happy. That she makes him happy. And honestly, that’s kind of all Dean’s ever wanted; he just never thought it’d come in the form of a fully grown wolf.

“Jesus, Cas, you’re amazing,” Dean breathes, totally overcome. His eyes widen and his face heats. Cas pauses. “I—uh. I mean, an amazing friend. Best friend. You’re an amazing, um, best… ah… Cas…?” The last is whispered just before Castiel kisses him.

In the forest behind the Bunker, in the company of a freaking wolf, Cas just gets up, walks over, and lays one on him. “Thank you,” he murmurs upon pulling away. His hand comes up to entwine with Dean’s. He steps forward. “Come meet her. Moz, come say hi to Dean.”

Without complaint, Dean follows.