Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.

This is a present for masterjediratgrl31, who is an absolutely beautiful person and wrote a oneshot for me after I was feeling down yesterday. Go check it out! It's called 'First Dance'. This short collection is based on a few poems she wrote which just screamed 'DESTIEL!' to me, so I figured I might do something with them :)

Sometimes, Dean infuriated Castiel to no end. Why did he have to fall for such an oblivious human? Couldn't Dean sense that all Castiel wanted was love? For Dean to recognise his (quite obvious, in Castiel's opinion) feelings? For his silly human to shower him with affection and touches and kisses and love?

As Dean clattered around the bunker's kitchen, cooking breakfast and washing up any dishes that he used, Castiel took the chance to stare at him. He always liked to look at Dean whenever he could; there was something intrinsically beautiful about Dean Winchester, which transcended far further than his physical good looks. His very soul gleamed, brighter than most things in the universe despite the cracks and dark patches gained in Hell, and it never failed to intrigue Castiel. It was why he could never stop staring at Dean; the desire to be as close to this brilliant light was why he always stood as close to Dean as possible, despite Dean's discomfort.

"You alright, Cas?"

Dean's voice broke Castiel out of his reverie. He realised that Dean had turned away from the stove and was regarding him with raised eyebrows.

"Yes," Castiel said after a moment. "I was simply…distracted."

Dean still looked suspicious but let it go, his attention returning to the food he was cooking. Resting his chin on one hand, Castiel took a sip of the coffee that Dean had made – bitter, just as the angel felt sometimes when despairing that Dean would never realise his feelings – and continued to watch his human with bright blue eyes; cerulean, he believed, was the precise shade of Jimmy's eyes.

Not wanting Dean to catch him staring again, Castiel closed his eyes and allowed Dean's soul to resonate through his very being. His grace responded in kind, the very music of his being pouring out of him and into Dean's soul in a desperate attempt to try and convey to his human the depth of his feelings. But Castiel's song fell on deaf ears; even if Dean did feel something, he didn't react in any visible way. Yet, despite this torture of being so close to something that he could never have, Castiel would not have given this beautiful love up for anything.