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It was a dewy autumn morning when Castiel found himself deep within the woods, the air thick with mist that swirled like a veil around the ancient trees. The scent of damp earth mingled with the crispness of fallen leaves as the morning sun began to pierce through the forest canopy.Castiel knelt beside a gnarled root, fingers brushing against the cool, damp soil as he gathered herbs and mushrooms for a potion he wished to master. Every witch worth his cauldron knew that a misty morning meadow enhanced the magical properties of the plants, so this was the perfect time to collect what he needed.That’s when he smelled it. He stopped short, hands frozen just above a patch of damp moss, and sniffed the air. Instantly, a heady concoction of verdant herbs and moonlit flowers wrapped around him like a soft spell. Looking around, Castiel’s eyes were drawn to the soft, silvery petal that seemed to speak to him and beckon him closer.Entranced, Castiel stood, the herbs he had been collecting forgotten at his feet. The Whispering Witchbloom seemed to call to something deeper within him. It was just one petal, not a whole flower. Castiel could feel the magic thrumming in the air as he picked it up.And there, a few feet away, he spotted another petal, glistening with dew, and as he reached for it, he noticed yet another nearby. With each discovery, more petals revealed themselves, each one a fragment of a spell waiting to be woven, leading him deeper into the heart of the woods.He carefully placed each petal into his basket, feeling a surge of excitement as the collection grew.That went on for quite a while until he reached a cabin, its fresh timber and sturdy frame standing out amid the dense forest as if recently built but already at home among the trees.Castiel looked around and realized he had never been in these parts of the woods before. He hadn’t known that someone else was living in this forest. Apart from all of his animal friends, of course.His basket now full of Whispering Witchbloom petals, he knocked and waited, curious to see who the owner of this cabin was.The alpha who answered the door did not smell like a witch. He smelled human.“You’re kidding me,” the alpha said, gaping at him. “How many witches live in this forest?!”That was a rather peculiar question, but Castiel answered it nonetheless, “One, it would seem.”The alpha’s eyes found the basket full of his petals and sighed. “Great. Now I’ll have to set the trap again.”“Trap?” Castiel narrowed his eyes at the human alpha. “What, are you trying to lure in little witches to eat them?”The alpha snorted. “Pretty sure you got that backward.”“That’s an unfair stereotype,” Castiel informed him because witches did, in fact, not eat human children.Giving a careless shrug, the alpha pointed out, “You brought it up.”“But you are trying to trap a witch?” Castiel checked because if this alpha was after a witch, Castiel should better warn them. Witches had to stick together, after all.“Yeah. She stole something from me.” The alpha glanced at Castiel’s basket and added, “Much like you.”“I didn’t steal anything.” He found the petals fair and square. They were his now. “You shouldn’t leave catnip lying around if you don’t want to attract any cats.”“Excuse me,” the alpha said, but he didn’t sound particularly apologetic. “I only moved here recently. I didn’t realize there was more than one witch roaming this forest.”“Do you have any other petals?” Castiel asked him because, intentional or not, the alpha had lured him here with the promise of more Whispering Witchblooms.The alpha did not look impressed by the question, his gaze flat and unamused. He pointed a finger in Castiel’s face, said, “Don’t steal my shit,” and closed the door in his face.Hm. It didn’t seem like he’d get any more petals from this human. But his basket was filled to the brim, anyway. Castiel would brew a tea infused with the magic of the petals, and he’d enjoy the gentle, dreamy high only Whispering Witchblooms could awaken within a witch.⁂Now that a different witch had gone and collected all of Dean’s carefully placed petals, Dean had to do it all over again, hoping to draw in the right witch this time around. Seriously. Weren’t witches supposed to be solitary creatures? How come there were two in this part of the woods?The very next day, there was another knock on the door.Seemed like his plan had worked like a charm.He opened the door and—“You again!”“Mmmm,” the witch hummed. He was once again carrying the basket filled with Dean’s petals. “I have never smelled so many Witchering Whispblooms before.” He frowned, then said, “No, wait. Whisperching… Whichsper… Witching…” The frown grew more pronounced as the witch tried and failed to pronounce the name of the flower.“Are you high?!”“Maybe you’re high. Maybe we’re all high,” the witch said and smiled at him.“Look, I’m running out of petals here,” Dean said because he couldn’t reset the trap every day. He was running out of time, too. Sam was waiting for him to rescue him. “You do realize that it’s kind of a rare flower that only blooms during certain lunar phases?”“Yes. It was very nice of you to provide me with all these petals.” The witch buried his nose in the basket and breathed in the scent of the flowers.“I’m not trying to be nice. I’m trying to capture a witch.”“You caught one,” the witch promptly said and made his way past him into Dean’s cabin.“Not you,” Dean said, hurrying after him because great. Now he had a witch in his cabin. Just what he needed.The witch honest-to-God pouted.“Look, if you can get me back what I lost, you can keep the petals,” Dean said, always up for a good bargain.“Alright.” The next second, the basket was shoved into Dean’s arms and the witch was holding…“Is it this sock?” the witch asked, inspecting Dean’s favorite ‘Donut Worry, Be Happy’ sock that had mysteriously gone missing after a trip through the washing machine.“What? No. It’s—”“Is it this bottle opener shaped like a vintage car?”Dean had no idea when he’d even seen that the last time. “No. Would you—”“How about this pair of what appears to be half-broken sunglasses?”“No.”“This button?”“Okay, stop. It’s none of those things.”The witch was looking at the armful of items he had conjured and then zapped it all away. “Humans lose a lot of stuff,” he said. “How do you ever get it back without magic?”“You could have left the sock here,” Dean mumbled, and the next second, the sock reappeared on his hand, as if it had decided to claim its place as a very peculiar glove. “Um, thanks.” He took off the sock and said, “Anyway, it’s my brother.”“You lost your brother?” the witch asked, squinting at him. “That’s an odd thing to lose.”“A witch stole him to settle a grudge. Long story.”But before Dean could say anything else, the witch snapped his fingers, and— “Is it this brother?”“Adam?!”The witch frowned, said, “Apparently not,” and before Adam found his bearings, he was zapped away again. “This one?”Sam was apparently mid-rant because he said, “…my brother will hunt you down and—”“Yeah, no need for any of that,” Dean said, and Sam whirled around to gape at him, then at the witch.“Dean? What are you— Who is that?”Dean shrugged. “He followed me home. Can I keep him?”“I’m not really a cat, you know?” the witch grumbled. Then he snatched the basket out of Dean’s hands. “I believe this belongs to me now, per our agreement.”With that, he turned around and left in a huff.“What did I stumble into here?” Sam asked with a bewildered shake of the head, and so Dean filled him in.⁂Castiel now had a nice supply of Whispering Witchbloom petals thanks to the human who had moved into the neighborhood. Dean, his brother had called him. As a little thank you, he hid Dean’s cabin from any unwanted guests, lest the evil witch came back to steal his brother or sock again.From then on, he minded his own business and went back to collecting herbs and mushrooms for his potions. But for some reason, his mind never wandered too far from the strange alpha who was fond of socks that didn’t worry about anything but decided to be happy instead. If you asked Castiel, more socks should take that advice.A few days later, Castiel was out, collecting pinecones and feathers of migrating birds for protection spells when—oh! There was a shiny petal whose scent was hard to resist. Couldn’t hurt to pick it up and put it into his basket for safekeeping. And there was another one…Witches tended not to think too clearly when Whispering Witchbloom was concerned, so it came quite as a surprise when the petals led him straight back to Dean’s cabin. Huh. Maybe he was trying to fool that other witch again.Castiel should probably slip away before Dean tried to take his petals away from him again. But too late. Dean had been out back and came around the cabin, probably attracted by the delicious smell of the petals.“There you are.”“Here I am,” Castiel confirmed, hiding the basket behind his back so that Dean didn’t get any ideas.“I had to wait for the new moon to get more petals,” Dean explained.“Are you trying to lure that witch back to you?”Dean smiled a shy smile and said, “Nah. I had another witch in mind.”“Oh?” Castiel looked around, wondering if there was a third witch hiding in the bushes. “There is another witch in these parts of the woods?”With an eyeroll and a shake of the head, Dean said, “I’m talking about you, dummy. I wanted to thank you for helping me with my brother.”“Oh. Well. You’re quite welcome.” It had been nothing, really. A very simple form of magic. Hardly worth mentioning. But he was glad that Dean appreciated it, nonetheless. He gave Dean a small smile because it seemed like he’d made a human friend here.Yes, Dean returned the smile. Definitely a friendly human friend. “Wanna come inside for a slice of pumpkin pie? Fresh outta the oven.”Feeling a warmth in his chest, Castiel nodded and said, “That sounds wonderful.”And with a sense of hope blooming in his chest, Castiel stepped into Dean’s world, ready to enjoy the magic of friendship and pie.
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Ever since Dean had befriended Cas, he had basically acquired a roommate. Walking around naked in his own cabin certainly wasn’t an option anymore, even if he came fresh out of the shower.“Don’t mind me. I’m just here for the new moon. To get some Whispering Witchbloom petals,” Cas said, ignoring Dean’s state of undress as he walked through the cabin to the back door.Yeah. That was Dean’s life now.“Oh. And did you realize you were shirtless?” Cas threw over his shoulder as an afterthought.Yep. That was—“You could catch a cold this time of year, you know,” Cas called, already halfway out the door to the flower patch.And the next second, Dean was wearing a sweater. And then a scarf wound itself around his neck, the fabric soft and warm against his skin, like a gentle, lingering touch. Next was an oversized beanie with full-moon pom-poms dangling down.That was just Cas for you. It didn’t keep Dean from planting more Whispering Witchblooms, though, because apparently, the soil around his cabin was great for growing them. And he didn’t particularly mind the company.⁂Castiel had never had a human friend before. Or any friend who could talk back, really. (At least not in words.) So, this was new. This feeling of elation whenever he saw Dean. The way he wanted to be around him all the time. The way he wanted to… look at him. Dean always looked back, so they’d end up staring at each other, which was nice. Dean had very nice eyes that were made to stare into.Apparently, the more the friendship grew, the more side effects there were. The first snow had transformed Dean’s cabin into a picturesque winter landscape when Castiel first noticed it. Dean was smiling at him, self-satisfied because his magical flowers had survived the frost, and in response, Castiel’s stomach felt all weird. As if his magic was hiccupping, flickering erratically like a candle in a breeze. And the next second, Castiel was holding a plate with a piece of apple pie in his hand—Dean’s favorite.“That for me?” Dean asked, already reaching for it without waiting for an answer.Of course, Castiel had no other option but to say, “Yes, I absolutely intended to conjure this piece of pie for you.”“You’re being weird,” Dean told him, mouth full of the first forkful of pie. Of course, he ate the whole thing anyway, crumbs included. Apparently, no level of weirdness could ever keep him from his pie.Castiel decided against telling him that Whispering Witchblooms always survived through winter. Dean was so proud, and Castiel didn’t want to take that from him. So, instead, he told him how great it was that his flowers were still blooming. The smile he got in response was well worth it—and promptly left Castiel’s stomach doing somersaults again.Then came the crisp winter day when Dean had trouble igniting the fire in his fireplace, which meant his cabin was cold with the kind of stubborn chill that settled deep into your bones. Castiel was about to snap his fingers to get the fire going, but that’s when Dean brought out a thick plaid blanket, declaring it his ‘emergency backup plan.’They had to huddle together and share as they settled on the couch in front of the dormant fireplace, and somehow, Castiel forgot all about the fact that the whole fireplace situation could be solved with just a little spark of magic. The blanket was rather cozy, after all. As were Dean’s arms wrapped around him to keep him warm. Or maybe to keep himself warm. Humans did that—share body heat in situations such as these, as Castiel knew. Witches, of course, didn’t need any of that. If they were cold, they could easily use their magic to keep them warm.“Better?” Dean checked, unaware of the fact that all Castiel would have to do was let his magic flow through him.“Yes,” Castiel said nevertheless and rearranged Dean’s arms more securely around himself. Having a human friend obviously came with a need for physical closeness.That night, he left with Dean’s scent all over him.And that was another thing. Dean’s scent… it did things to him. Things that were hard to explain. For one, it made Castiel’s stomach flip-flop in the most annoying way.The first time it happened, Castiel had thought maybe he was hungry. Or else he might have indigestion. But no. It only ever happened around Dean. Apparently, having a human friend also meant having metaphorical bees buzzing around in your stomach.It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, more like a magical tingle that ebbed and flowed, intensifying whenever Dean brushed against him accidentally, or gave him one of his soft smiles. So yes. Definitely not a bad feeling—but one Castiel didn’t know what to do with.Back home, he waited a bit so that Dean wouldn’t suspect him, then he sent some magic on its way to Dean’s cabin so that he wouldn’t have to spend a night being cold. Surely, Dean would simply assume the problem with the fireplace had taken care of itself.Surprisingly, the magic came straight back to him to report that the fireplace situation had indeed already taken care of itself, even without Castiel’s magical interference.Another side effect of being friends with Dean revealed itself a couple of weeks later. Suddenly, Castiel’s scent gland started itching. Again, it was something that happened in Dean’s presence, which was how he knew it wasn’t simply a witch’s cold.Of course, Castiel waited until he was at home to start scratching. And then scratching some more because it simply didn’t stop.“The hell happened to you?!” Dean asked when Castiel entered his cabin the next day. He was glaring at Castiel’s neck and his voice sounded angry.“Oh, that. My neck was itchy. Maybe I brushed up against some Itchthorn on my way here.” That would explain why it tended to happen when he was with Dean. The path here was clearly perilous.Dean nodded, his expression softening. “So, you did it yourself,” he stated and then went to find some ointment and bandages.Dean made him sit down on a blanket by the hearth and then opened the vial with the lotion and joined him.“You really don’t have to—” Castiel started, but the words faltered when Dean’s fingers, coated in the soothing paste, brushed against his sore neck.That was definitely one way to get rid of the itchy feeling. A cool, calming sensation spread across his skin, chasing away the itch with a strange mix of relief and awareness. Dean’s touch was firm yet careful, and each touch felt deliberate, almost reverent, sending a subtle shiver through him. The itching was gone, but in its place was a different kind of sensation—one that left Castiel acutely aware of just how close Dean was.“There you go,” Dean said, wiping his fingers on a rag before grabbing a band-aid and carefully pressing it onto Castiel’s neck, his fingers brushing the skin as he smoothed it into place.“Does your scent gland sometimes itch as well?” Castiel asked because if that’s what friendship did to you, shouldn’t Dean be affected as well?“Sure,” Dean said with a shrug as he put the supplies away. “That’s the downside of being on your own, right? Can’t scent yourself.”Oh. Was that what this was about? Did his scent gland want someone to scent him?From what Dean had said, he wouldn’t mind getting scented, either.“Is it…” Castiel wasn’t sure if he was brave enough to finish the question, but Dean’s scent surrounded him and swoosh, there his stomach went again, dropping and then flipping over, caught in the rush of unfamiliar warmth. “Is it itchy right now?”Castiel always had trouble reading Dean’s expression, but just then, it was completely indecipherable.“Yeah. I guess it is,” Dean eventually replied.It was unclear why Dean would have to ‘guess’ whether or not his scent gland was itching. There was no guesswork involved in figuring out if a specific part of your body was itchy. It either was or it wasn’t.Either way, it was Castiel’s turn to make sure Dean’s neck was taken care of, so he leaned right over until his nose collided with Dean’s scent gland in his hurry to give it a careful scenting.It was supposed to be for Dean because Castiel didn’t want him to feel the way he had, scratching his neck until it was all raw. But of course, Dean turned it around on him and went for the other side of Castiel’s neck, the one that wasn’t covered by a band-aid, scenting him right back.The magic within him fluttered, hesitant and delicate as if sensing the shift in the air.And suddenly, without warning, Dean’s mouth was on his, his tongue gently caressing Castiel’s lips, slow and intimate like a whispered secret. And what a secret it was. A treasure to be guarded. Dean was basically telling him what that weird fluttering feeling inside him meant. It wasn’t just a human friend he’d found in Dean. It was more than that.“That’s what you meant, right?” Dean asked when they broke apart, mouths only inches from each other, ready to get back to more kissing activities any second. “That’s what you want?”A spark of magic flickered between them, just a whisper of energy, as Castiel leaned in, his fingers grazing Dean’s lips, a silent promise made in the language of witches.But since Dean wasn’t fluent in the custom of witches, Castiel had to translate it for him. And so he leaned in and pulled Dean into another kiss filled with love and longing. Because his human friend, as he now understood, was more like his human mate.