Secrets and Sneezes - SPN (Cas, Dean) [4/4 parts]

[TheUnicycle]

This is the beginning of a very self-indulgent fanfic I've been writing, where Dean and Cas are both sneeze fetishists, and are discovering this about each other. (There are destiel elements to it). This first section is very short, and only features Cas sneezing so far, but I have more on the way soon. Without further ado:

 

The first time Dean hears Cas sneeze, it's an early morning in the bunker. He's just left the bathroom, and about to head to the kitchen for some morning coffee when a loud sneeze echoes down the corridor. HISSHIEWW!

Dean freezes. It's only him and Cas here, and Cas- doesn't sneeze. Dean would've noticed, would've cataloged it away with all the other things he only thinks about when he's alone in the shower.

Gun in hand, he heads down the hallway, ears pricked for any more sound. It comes, in the form of three more sneezes- considerably quieter, this time, but unmistakably there nevertheless. hat'chieww! TCHIUU! hii'tschu! Another sneeze twenty seconds later confirms their source- Cas' room. heh'tschuu!

Outside the room, he listens for a moment, and hears soft sniffles coming from inside. "Cas?" he calls out.

"Dean?" Cas' voice is stuffy at the beginning of the word, but by the end it sounds normal.

He hears rustling sounds coming from the other side of the door. "You okay?" he asks, gentling turning the doorknob and pushing the door open.

Cas is alone in the room, and despite the sneezing he'd heard moments before, seems completely unaffected. His nose is its normal colour, not a tinge of red in sight, and his breathing is even.

Cas tilts his head, but the gesture seems just a little too emotionless to pass for genuine confusion. "Of course, Dean."

There's a slight smell in the air setting off alarms of recognition deep within his mind, but he can't quite place it. Cas shows no signs of illness or struggle, though, so Dean decides to put the issue away for now, before it becomes a little too obvious exactly what he thinks of it. "Well, I'm going to make some coffee, and after that I'm going into town for a grocery run, if you want to join me." He turns and walks down the hallway without waiting for a response.

Edited August 20 by TheUnicycle
added tags and updated title

[anna]

Omg a destiel sneeze kink fic! Soooo hyped

[TheUnicycle]

Second section finished! (It was mostly done already; expect future updates to be much slower)

 

Some private thinking time and a few days later, Dean still can't get the incident out of his mind. It's a bit obsessive, he'll admit, but he's known the guy for like a decade and never once heard him sneeze. While he doesn't exactly like it, he'd resigned himself to it being another thing angel powers meant Cas didn't need to do, so he never would. So, pardon him for being a little intrigued. Okay, a lot intrigued.

The thoughts have, perhaps, gotten out of hand, considering he's suspecting Cas was sneezing on purpose, and then further deluded himself into thinking maybe, just maybe, Cas has a sneezing fetish too.

Which is all well and good as a fantasy, but he's becoming just a little too convinced. Something about the way Cas held himself, the way he was seemingly able to stop it but chose not to (Cas' feigned innocence or not, Dean knows what he heard) until Dean arrived. The way Cas clearly didn't expect him to be up, justifiably so. It just all seemed a little too tense, and he can't quite convince himself it was only coming from him.

The other thing, then, is he has a suspicion about the smell. A couple days removed from smelling it and a couple decades since he's dealt with the stuff before that, he can't be sure, but his treacherous imagination tries to tell him it's chhinkni. He used the stuff on occasion when he was in his 20s, but shortly after he picked Sam up from Stanford he dumped it, and hasn't dealt with the stuff since. So, he doesn't exactly expect his recollection is flawless.

Still, he finds himself in the library, dusting, watching Cas closely but casually for a reaction.

Cas seems unaffected by the dust, unsurprisingly, but Dean can't say the same for his own nose. He's got it under control; even if he were comfortable with sneezing around people, he's frequently in situations where one little sneeze could get him killed.

But Cas is staring at him, intently, and Dean swears he sees Cas' eyes widen as Dean's nose twitches. Not that Cas staring at him intently is out of the ordinary, by any stretch of the imagination, but he could swear there's some extra attention on his nose.

So, he decides to sneeze, just to see how Cas reacts. Not that he can sneeze on command, but with this much dust he's putting a fair amount of effort into holding it back. Still, it's not easy to stop holding it back entirely, especially with Cas right there- even if he has dropped his head back to his book.

About 15 seconds in, he gets a sharp inhale, but the sneeze fizzles out before anything more comes of it. It does not, however, seem to escape Cas' notice. Blue eyes pierce into him, and Dean could swear a too-blank-to-be-natural expression comes over his face.

He refocuses on his dusting, breathing softly through his nose, trying not to sniffle audibly. Who knows what exactly Cas can hear, though.

The tickle deepens, and within a minute his breath is hitching again. He doesn't dare look directly at Cas, afraid he'll lose the sneeze and become far too obvious about it at the same time. The weird-ass chrome metal decoration on the shelf shows Cas' reflection just well enough that Dean knows he's looking up from his book, though.

hih.. hih.. hiiht.. He glances up towards the light fixture on the wall, and that pushes him over the edge. hii'TCHoosh! He sneezes into his elbow, the flannel covering muffling the force of the sneeze somewhat. There's a thud like a book hitting the table from Cas' direction, but Dean doesn't want to turn and look, so he settles for the blurry reflection again. Cas is definitely staring, although, logically, he knows a sneezing fetish is neither the only nor the most likely explanation. Maybe the guy's just worried, or looking up towards the sound. People are drawn to sound, angels probably work the same way.

The dust isn't giving up, though, and now that he's let it in it's harder to deter. There's too many conflicting emotions for him to want to sneeze in front of Cas again, right now, but he's unsure his nose is going to give him much of a choice. Fleeing the room would probably be more conspicuous; it's just a sneeze or two. Not a big deal, except to him. And maybe Cas, a little voice in his head adds.

He's almost finished dusting the area (the other side of the room is a different matter, but that can wait) when the tickle overpowers him. Hih’nxxt! He stifles it into his sleeve, but the sensation doesn't relent. Uhh-TchSHH! Hiih-tchSHH!

The tickle clearly now going away, he decides he's had enough, dusting finished or not. He excuses himself and runs off to the bathroom, although not without a glimpse of a captivated-looking Cas and a hih'TCHISH! as he steps through the arch and into the hall.

[Cal.i.o.p]

This is so good! I love Deans little “experiment” going wrong. Can’t wait to read the reveal. 

[anna]

Sooooo good

[aceblues]

I haven't watched much of spn but this is so amazing.

[TheUnicycle]

Glad y'all are liking it!

I've got probably one more scenario to write after this, and then it'll be done. For now, here's very short follow-up that takes place almost immediately after the last section (without any actual sneezing) and then a decent-length section that takes place later (with plenty of sneezing).

 

A couple hours have passed before he sees Cas next. Dean's in the kitchen, sipping a beer, and looks up to see Cas hovering in the hallway.

"Hey," he says.

Cas steps down. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, m'fine," he says, half-hoping Cas will drop it and half-hoping he won't.

Cas squints at him, considering. "Your eyes are puffier than normal, and your nose is still red."

Dean pauses where he's lifted his beer to his lips, thankful there's none in his mouth, and turns towards Cas. He could swear there's a faint hint of a blush on Cas' cheeks; he knows there's red tinging his own face without needing to look. "Dust got to me, that's all," he says, aiming for casual.

Cas looks like he wants to say something, but shuts his mouth. He nods, then grabs a beer and sits down beside him.

 

*****

 

The next morning, they catch a case, and then another, and Dean mostly forgets about it for a couple weeks.

Until, of course, there's a cat.

He and Cas have just finished a salt-and-burn that went off without a hitch- no pun intended- and pulled back into their hotel for the night when a grey tabby walks up, and- with no preamble- jumps onto the hood of the Impala.

Dean can see the fur fly everywhere in the low haze of the parking lot, but it- mostly- stays clear of him. Good. He's too tired for this shit. He'll take a shower, and then he'll get some goddamn sleep. It's not until he's at the door to the room that he registers Cas isn't following him.

Cas is crouched next to the cat where it jumped down from the Impala, reading the tag on its collar. There's a frown of concentration on his face.

"You coming, Cas?"

Without even glancing up from where he's typing something into his phone, Cas says, "She's lost."

Cas lifts the phone to his ear, and Dean leaves him to it, calling, "Well, you two have fun," over his shoulder, and starts his shower, his nose feeling slightly sensitive, but under control. He can take some allergy meds if it's still itchy when he's done.

He lets himself sneeze twice soon after he gets into the shower, the pounding water muffling what sound his hand doesn't. While his nose calms down some after that, there's still enough of a tickle when he's done he figures he better take some medication for it or it'll keep him up.

Except, the supply he keeps in his duffle is little more than a few empty pill wrappers. The bottle in the Impala- which has more cat fur dusting the roof than he noticed earlier- is empty, too. All he gets for his troubles is an ever-increasing itch in his nose.

The parking lot is empty, and he has no clue where Cas has gone off to- which isn't great, but it at least makes him less self-conscious about letting out a wet etch'tsSSHEWW! towards the asphalt before he heads back into the hotel room to call Cas.

He grabs the phone to text first, then opens the pack of tissues he'd grabbed from the car to blow his nose while he waits for a response. By the time he gets one a minute and a half later, his nose has cooled off, down to the occasional sniffle while he waits for Cas to show back up, the TV playing in the background. He'll be fine without allergy meds, and he'll be sure to refill his supplies after the stores have opened in the morning. Probably won't even have to deal with sneezing in front of Cas- the good or the bad.

Except, when Cas gets back, he's absolutely covered in cat fur.

He doesn't notice at first, of course. As soon as Cas gets back, Dean has him turn off the overhead lights, leaving the room lit only by the soft light of Cas' lamp and the flickering of the TV, and rolls over to try to fall asleep.

It's only after about 15 minutes with increasingly-watery eyes and 5 with the back of his hand pressed against his nose, that he rolls over and actually looks at Cas, who's calmly watching the TV, apparently oblivious to his suffering.

"Can you get rid of the- hih- sweater, dude?"

Cas turns towards him, looking confused at first, but then his eyes flick over Dean's face (and Dean could swear he sees his pupils dilate a bit), then down towards his own front. "Oh." The fur is gone before he's finished the syllable, not that Dean's nose seems to care about that now. Cas is apologizing and saying something about having to carry the cat, but Dean's too focused on sitting up and getting to the bathroom to try to clean his face up to pay attention to the details.

He flicks the bathroom light on as he enters, and that sends him over the edge before he can even shut the door behind him. He stifles the first one silently, but a second slips out while he's distracted feeling around for the door behind him, with a still quiet but audible heh'gnxxt!. Between the fact it's his third sneeze before he's even managed to close the door and the fact that he's not managing being silent well anyway, he gives up on being entirely quiet and lets out an etch'tsSHiew! into the palm of his hand. It's not loud enough to be disruptive if there's anyone in the adjoining rooms (and the parking lot was pretty empty, so he doubts it), and if it bothers Cas- which he's not at all sure it does- it's his own damn fault anyway.

With that, the tickle subsides enough for him to grab a couple of the scratchy tissues the motel has on the counter and wipe his face, though it's far from gone. He turns around to dump the tissues into the trash can, only to be met with Cas standing in the doorway.

"Enjoying the show?" he asks, then immediately regrets it. Cas seems to freeze, but before he can read too much into whatever's happening, he has to turn away because his breath is starting to hitch again.

He gets a couple fresh tissues out of the box in time to catch the heh'eRRSH! in them, and turns back to an... attentive Cas after he's wiped his nose.

His own motion seems to prompt Cas, who wordlessly reaches out a hand and sets two fingers on the tip of Dean's nose before Dean can ask what the fuck he's doing. Between being caught off guard and the prodding at his nose, a sudden ERSSHH! rips out of him and sprays all over Cas' hand.

As he falls forward into Cas' hand with the force of the sneeze, the sensation of grace floods through his nose, clearing his sinuses and getting rid of the itch in his nose and his eyes. They both stand there for a moment, frozen, before Cas pulls his hand away, spurring him back into motion.

He clears his throat and mumbles an apology, avoiding looking at Cas, who walks away without a word. After washing his face and hands off in the sink, he lays back down in his bed, although sleep is a long time coming.

[anna]

😳

[TheUnicycle]

Ended up writing this a lot faster than I expected, so here, have the final installment of this story:

When they finally return to the bunker, Dean's had enough. Enough wondering what's going through Cas' mind, enough of the runaway fantasies going through his own.

He figures he has three options here. Option one is straight-up asking the guy if he perchance has a sneezing fetish, which he has absolutely no intention of doing, at least without less ambiguous evidence. Option two is to simply continue to obsess over it, which- in addition to leaving him dangerously distracted- is only getting worse. So, he's left with option three: dig through Cas' room and laptop, and see what he can find.

He sends Cas into town to pick up pizza, and starts in on the laptop first. It's a massive waste of time; the only things he finds on there are hunting-related. So, he either hasn't been doing anything interesting on it, or he actually took Sam's "use private windows" advice to heart.

Still, Cas should be gone for another twenty minutes or so, which leaves Dean time to dig through his drawers a little. Cas barely uses the room anyway, so he figures it's not that bad an invasion of privacy. Besides, Cas digs through his stuff all the time.

He finds what he's looking for just sitting in one of the desk drawers, a little unmarked glass jar with some brownish powder in it. What he does next is perhaps not his brightest moment, but considering he just spent around thirty minutes kinda violating the guy's privacy(it is a borrowed laptop, in his defense) going over his laptop with a fine tooth comb when what he was looking for was sitting front and center between some cheap pens, it's not his dumbest, either.

He probably should have learned by now to stop sticking his face in random substances to identify them, considering they're usually disgusting and occasionally dangerous (that curse was not fun), but, as things are, he pops open the jar, scoops some onto his finger, sticks it right under his nose, and inhales deeply.

He has, in rapid succession, several thoughts. First: yeah, he thinks it smells like chhinkni. Second: it feels like chhinkni. Third, although in some ways a continuation of the second: he's going to sneeze, which he really should have seen coming. Fourth- although, again, closely related: wait, why's he even panicking. Cas should still be at least fifteen minutes out, and no one else would be in the bunker right now. He can enjoy this. Fifth: shit. That was definitely a door. And then Cas calling his name.

And, finally, although it takes him embarrassingly long to realize it (in his defense, there is a rapidly-blooming itch in his nose, which is pretty distracting): Cas has chhinkni in his desk. Cas has been staring at him sneezing for at least a few weeks in a way that very much did not look like just concern for his well-being, and nothing like disgust. Cas was, almost certainly, using the chhinkni himself a few weeks ago.

In his distracted state, the chhinkni has overwhelmed his nose, and he pulls his collar over his face just in time to catch a powerful uh'ISHH! against the fabric. He sniffles, and he can hear Cas' footsteps coming closer, but his breath is already hitching in preparation for another sneeze. hih.. heh.. hiih.. huh'TISSHH!

His nose doesn't feel done, but it grants him a brief reprieve, so he reaches for the doorknob, although his other hand keeps his shirt pressed up to his face.

The door falls opens to a wide-eyed Cas just as the itch picks back up. "hiih-Heya-iih Ca-ah-s." He knows he's blushing, but he faces Cas, stares back at him until his eyes screw shut along one last shuddering breath and- hihht'ISSHH!

When he opens his eyes again, Cas hasn't moved- except for where his eyes have grown even wider- but his cheeks are growing noticeably pinker. Dean sniffs, and- satisfied he's no longer in imminent danger of sneezing- peels the damp fabric from his face. "You're back early," he says, as if that's what he wants to discuss.

It's clearly not at the forefront of Cas' mind either, because he stares at Dean for several seconds, face still reddening but otherwise unchanging, then flicks his eyes over Dean's shoulder to where the chhinkni is out on the desk before he finally says, sounding confused, "A pipe burst at the pizza place. They called me while I was driving there... Dean, what are you doing?"

A smirk comes over his face, even as he blushes harder. "You're not nearly as heh- good a liar as you think you ­ih- are. I knew I heard you using tha-eh-t stuff a few w-hehh-eeks ago." As soon as he's gotten the sentence out, he crumples forward, shirt already raised back over his nose, with a het'ESSH!

On one hand, it's pretty hard to be at his best flirting game while he's busy sneezing every twenty seconds. On the other, from the way Cas is looking at him, he's pretty sure it's doing all the work for him.

Well, most of it. Cas is still just standing there, and Dean can think of some other things he'd rather he be doing. Swallowing, he says, "Wasn't actually trying to, y'know, use it right now. But since we're here, you want to join me?" He steps back and gestures towards the jar, and Cas finally moves.

Cas' eyes stay on him as he slowly walks into the room, looking cautious in that sort of way like someone's pretending to hand you something, holding it out just to yank it away at the last minute. Dean knows the feeling, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he stares back.

Cas picks up the jar but then hesitates again, and Dean takes the opportunity to step towards him, scoop another fingerful from the jar and hold it up to Cas' nose while they both watch, enraptured. "Breathe," he says, and Cas does, and holy shit this can't be real.

Dean hears as Cas sets the jar back down, but his eyes stay trained on Cas' face as it starts twitching, still only a foot and a half or so from his own. hiii- hh- hiii- Cas turns his head, just slightly, so it's aimed more at his shoulder than his face, and brings cupped hands over his face as- hii'tchuu! hii'tcHUU! et'TCHUU! A brief pause, then HI'tchu! hiiit'CHUU!

Cas sniffles, the fit clearly not over as breathy inhales start up again before- hih'tchoo! hii'TCHOO! hit'CHOO! 'CHUUU!

Cas' breathing evens out, and after a moment he pulls his hands from his face and looks back at Dean with a question in his eyes.

Dean immediately nods in agreement, not trusting himself to speak, and waits as Cas slowly brings the chhinkni to his nose, inhaling once it's there. Cas' finger drags slowly over his nostrils as it pulls away, only a thin dusting of powder left on it. Dean's reaching for his collar in preparation when Cas pulls one side of his own trenchcoat open by the lapel and looks at Dean in a clear invitation.

The itch blooming rapidly in his nose, he moves forward and bends to press his face into the gap, nose just below Cas' collarbone. He can feels Cas' chest rise and fall as his own stutters and- heh'ETSSH! Cas' hand loosely cups his head, the ends of his fingers in the fabric and his palm against Dean's hair as they waits for the next one- or two, as it turns out- and Dean crumples further into Cas with heh'TSSH! hheh'ETSSHH!

He takes a few breaths before he moves, then pulls free when no more sneezes come, and finds himself staring directly into Cas' face, lips inches from his own. Cas' tongue juts out, skating over them, and Dean's eyes trace the motion. They're moving, slowly, slowly closer when Dean's breath hitches for reasons unrelated to the building anticipation. He makes it to where Cas' shoulder starts to curve towards his neck, and couldn't stop the ERSSH! as he falls into the fabric if he wanted to.

Cas pulls his face back up and kisses him before he's even had time to catch his breath, and Dean leans into into it, kissing him back, hard.

It's a pretty damn good night, even if he does end up eating boxed mac and cheese for dinner.

[anna]

Oh my godddddddd 😳

[Cambria]

Awwww man heck yeah ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥