Title: Melon Fucker and the Peanut Butter Bandit
Notes: for a certain special melonfucker who’s birthday is today @stardustandfreckles (although I have no idea if you are behind or ahead of me in time zones) Warnings for graphic descriptions of the defilement of a muskmelon.
“Hi. My uh, my name is Dean Winchester.”
“Hi, Dean,” Castiel droned with the other twenty or so adults – mostly male – who were assembled on creaking folding chairs in the musty basement of a squat brick church.
“So it’s been… about four years since I started…”
Squinting and leaning forward, Castiel found himself wishing that he’d sat closer to the front row. He’d never seen someone so handsome at one of these meetings, and was intensely curious what in particular had brought Dean here.
“… and it’s getting pretty bad. I’m having a hard time holding down relationships…”
Under the too bright white of fluorescent lights, the freckles across Dean’s cheeks popped out from the blush that was intensifying.
“… not that I’ve ever really been good at holding down relationships, you know, but uh, my last girlfriend, Lisa, she caught me, she caught me in the kitchen…”
Dean coughed into his hand, scuffed his worn work boots against the linoleum floor and clutched at the edge of the wobbly wooden podium. He looked down, took a deep breath, screwed his eyes shut, then looked up to the ceiling. Castiel found himself on edge, waiting for when Dean would finally get over his pussyfooting and tell the group why he was there.
Fidgeting, Castiel tugged at the frayed hem of the hole in the knee of his jeans. Black-booted foot tapping the floor, he flicked his tongue against the labret in his lower lip and waited.
“It’s ok Dean,” Garth, the group leader, stated gently, “Safe space here, remember. You can talk to us about anything, this is a judgement free zone.”
Swiping a hand down his face, Dean blew out a deep breath and leaned into the microphone.
“I really love fucking melons and I can’t have sex anymore without thinking about melons and Lisa caught me with a cantaloupe in the kitchen.”
Castiel’s breath caught in his throat, a tingly feeling oozing all warm in his stomach.
Dean was perfect.
I’m going to go gush more on AO3.