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cloudy_ficTitle: Twitfics VI
Author: CloudyJenn
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: multiple pairings
Rating: R
Word Count: 14,000+
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Warnings: General Season 5 Spoilers/Vague Season Six references
Summary: Too many for one summary. Supernatural characters doing things!
Author's Notes: A sixth collection of ficlets from my twitter. Most of these are longer ficlets. None of them contain explicit references to Season Six (and please no spoilers in comments!). Also, having read this over before posting, I realize there's a lot of total crack here. Oh and because it's been months since the last time I posted a twitfic collection, I am only mostly certain none are repeats. Like 95% sure, so please forgive me if I accidentally reposted a ficlet in here. Enjoy!
New Hobby
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Sam looks at Dean, but his brother is engrossed in his magazine.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
"Cas!" Sam finally blurts. "Stop it!"
Castiel frowns at him over his bubble wrap and Dean glares. "Dude, leave him alone. He likes it."
Sam sighs. Of course Dean took Castiel side.
~~~
Even Better
When Castiel shows up to Dean's apartment, the living room is clogged with smoke, the kitchen table is overturned and his boyfriend's sleeve is half burned away.
"Dean?"
"There was a candle," he says, green eyes wild. "The music was skipping and I knocked into table and the candle caught me. And the stupid chicken burned while I was cleaning up and I need to buy Sam a new tablecloth."
Castiel bites back a laugh, leads him to the couch and gently pushes him down. "Are you alright?"
Dean looks miserable.
"I suck at romance." He glances up at Castiel. "Can we just fuck?"
Castiel nods. "Yes, that would be nice."
~~~
Kitten
Dean glares at the tiny ball of fur in Sam's hands.
"What is that?"
"I think...I think it's Cas...?"
The thing lifts its small head and sleepily blinks bright blue eyes at him. "Mew?"
Dean's heart sinks. He'd know that meow anywhere.
"Shit."
**********
"Mew! Mew! Meow! Moah! Mew!"
"Oh my god, will you shut up?"
Dean resists the urge to throw his pillow at Castiel because in his tiny state, it might kill him.
"Dean," Sam says wearily. "Just let him up there."
"He's a fucking cat."
"Dean."
Dean sighs and throws off the covers. "Fine."
He scoops Castiel off the floor and tosses him on the bed.
"Now shut up."
Castiel waits until Dean is settled and then curls into a ball on his hipbone.
"You good?" Dean asks sarcastically.
Castiel's only answer is to yawn and bury his nose in the pocket of Dean's pajama pants.
Dean sighs.
**********
When Dean wakes up, Castiel is stuffed down the front of his shirt.
"What the fuck?"
Castiel is a ball of heat and silky fur brushing over Dean's skin. His shirt slowly rises and falls under the motion of Castiel's tiny breaths.
"God, this is weird."
He reaches under his shirt and drags Castiel out. The angel-turned-fluffy-sphere stumbles across Dean's lap, apparently annoyed by the interruption to his sleep.
"You little pervert," Dean admonishes him. It just figures Castiel would wait until now to put the moves on Dean.
"Moaw," Castiel says in a rather accusatory tone.
"Don't talk to me like that," Dean says. "You're the one molesting people in their sleep."
"Dean?"
Dean freezes.
"Dean, seriously."
"We gotta find a way to change him back," Dean mutters.
Castiel bumps his head against Dean's stomach and rubs gently. With a deep offended sigh, Dean gives into the silent request for petting.
"As soon as possible," he adds.
**********
Castiel won't stay in the backseat when they leave the motel in the Impala that morning. He takes three or four unsuccessful flying leaps off the seat and smashes into the back of Dean's seat before Sam takes pity on him.
"Just keep him over there," Dean grumbles, trying not to watch as Sam carefully tucks Castiel into the front of his coat.
"Mowr," Castiel says.
Everything is silent for about five minutes and then suddenly Sam jerks to the side.
"Hey!" he shouts, digging into his coat and extracting Castiel.
"What? What'd he do?"
"You licked me!" Sam holds Castiel up, one huge hand cupped around his back and the other supporting Cas' little back feet.
Dean grips the wheel hard.
"Licked you?"
"Yes, with his gross scratchy cat tongue!"
He shudders violently while Castiel contemplates him, his ears pointed towards Sam with great interest.
Dean snorts with laughter. The discomfort of Castiel licking Sam's...whatever aside, the horrified look on Sam's is pretty freaking hilarious.
Sam starts to put Castiel into the backseat again, but Dean stops him.
"Don't, he'll just hurt himself again."
Without taking his eyes off the road, Dean grabs Castiel and shoves him into the inner front pocket of his leather jacket. Castiel turns and struggles in the pocket for moment until his head pops out and he leans against Dean's chest, sighing happily.
"Don't lick anything while you're in there."
**********
Castiel sleeps the entire way to Bobby's house. The gentle rhythm of his breathing eases into Dean's consciousness so much that he doesn't even notice Castiel anymore. He remembers Castiel when they stop at a gas station halfway there and his arm brushes the lump in his front pocket.
"Is he okay?" Sam asks.
Dean peeks into his coat. Castiel moves a bit at losing his pillow on Dean's chest, but he doesn't wake up.
"He's fine. You want a soda?"
**********
When they get to Bobby's, they're treated to a pair of narrowed eyes.
"Where's Cas?"
Dean opens the side of his jacket.
"Is that...don't tell me..." Bobby says slowly.
"Don't tell you that Castiel is a cuddly furball? Sorry, no can do."
"I swear to God, one of these days," Bobby mumbles as he turns back into the house. "Well, c'mon," he yells over his shoulder. "Unless you like him better as a cat."
Dean really doesn't. Although it's not as bad as he first thought. He carefully digs Castiel out of his front pocket.
"C'mon, Whiskers, we gotta get some food into you."
**********
"No."
"He can help."
Dean tucks Castiel into the crook of his arm. "I don't trust him."
Castiel lets out a faint meow, as if to agree. Sam tosses the book aside.
"We're out of options."
Which Dean can't argue.
"Fine," he grumbles as he feeds Castiel a piece of cheese.
One ritual later, he's standing across from an outrageously amused Gabriel.
"Oh brother of mine, what did you get yourself into this time?" Gabriel picks Castiel up by the scruff of his neck. "Did you piss off any Egyptian gods lately, Deano?"
"What?" Castiel can't be comfortable like that, Dean thinks as he snatches him back. "How am I supposed to know?"
"You should keep track of these things," Gabriel says. "I've seen spells like this before. You reject these gods in love and they turn what you truly desire into something sacred. Something that can't be touched."
Dean gapes at him.
"No fucking way."
**********
"I don't desire-"
"Stop right there," Gabriel says. "Denial means more time with Puss in Boots here. This kind of spell usually involves getting over yourself. So suck it up and admit you want to cuddle with my little bro like the giant man-girl you are."
Dean would punch him, but his hands are full of confused mewling kitten.
**********
"Alright, so...apparently this is my fault."
Castiel is too busy batting at Dean's fingers to pay attention.
"It's fucking ridiculous." He wiggles his fingers so Castiel can pounce on them. "I don't even like you that much."
The stupidity of talking at a cat has Dean on his feet again, but as he walks away, a pathetic mewl stops him. Castiel is trying to follow. Trying to follow and nearly falling off the desk.
"Hey! He leaps back, heart in his throat, but it's not a cat that he catches. Hands clutch at his shoulders as Dean pressed a very human-shaped Castiel into the desk.
"Dean?"
"Really?"
"Really what?"
Dean shakes his head. "Never mind."
**********
Everything works out just great. That is, until Cas turns down a very cute and very angry goddess at a bar one night and wakes up the next day with a very slobbery puppy in his arms.
~~~
Happy Accident
It's when Dean lets himself get used to things that it happens.
Usually his mind whispers warnings to him, warnings that translate to vague feelings of unease and the urge to hurt anyone he might really care for.
But despite that urge, Castiel hangs around, glaring at Dean when he's a dick and sucking up to Sam. Now that the world's not in danger and Sam's as back to normal as possible, Dean actually starts to enjoy his life. Still a hunter and a brother and now getting visits from an angel just for the hell of it rather than because Castiel needs something.
So his day usually goes like this:
-Wake up when Sam hits him or yells at him or in one case, pours water over his head.
-Take a shower.
-Find Castiel sitting on his bed.
-Yell at Castiel if he forgot to change in the bathroom.
-Fight with Castiel about who should get breakfast.
-Have breakfast.
-Research latest case/perform tasks for latest case/travel towards latest case.
-Listen to Castiel complain about problems in Heaven.
-Complain about human problems to Castiel.
-Fight with Sam about where to have lunch.
-Have lunch.
-Gripe about Castiel leaving abruptly after lunch to return to Heaven.
-Perform further tasks for latest case.
-Call Bobby.
-Call to chat with Lisa and Ben.
-Bicker with Sam for an hour.
-Have dinner.
-Bitch at Castiel for not returning until after dinner.
-Hit a bar for a game of pool.
-Laugh at Castiel for his awkward cue handling skills.
-Teach Castiel about why it's hilarious to watch Sam try to score with some chick.
-Have too much beer.
-Fight with Castiel about being able to drive home.
-End back at hotel room through angelic means.
-Yell at Castiel for leaving his car in Sam's hands.
-Drift off while Castiel sits beside him, watching an episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show.
It's not exactly the apple pie life, but as it turns out, Dean really fucking enjoys it. He's got his brother back, he still gets to gank evil sons of bitches and he's starting to believe Castiel might not die this time. His life settles into a comfortable, but exciting pattern and Dean wouldn't do anything to change it.
Until he does on accident.
It happens right before Castiel leaves before lunch one day. He's got some projects cooking upstairs that need his attention. As such, he's been leaving earlier and staying away longer. Which normally wouldn't bug Dean, but it's screwing with his pattern.
"I'll try to come back before your evening meal," Castiel promises, apparently understanding why Dean's put out.
"Yeah, whatever," Dean says because it's still a bit freaky to him that Castiel can see inside his soul again or however that works.
"I'd appreciate it if you did," Sam chimes in, his nose pressed in a book. "Dean's an ass when you don't."
Dean throws a pillow at him.
"Just be careful," Dean says to Castiel and for the life of him, he never does understand why he does what happens next.
He kisses Castiel.
Just leans right over and pecks him on the mouth the way Mary used to kiss John before he left for work. Like a little connection, a brief message of 'I'll miss you' and Dean has no idea why he does it.
Castiel's wide eyes and slightly parted lips say he doesn't know either.
Sam is the first one to talk.
"Did you just kiss him?"
"What?" Dean glares at him and his denial is really stupid, but he makes it anyway. "No, of course not."
"Yeah, you did! Oh my god, you kissed him," Sam crows, throwing his head back as peals of laughter bubble up from his chest. "You're in gay love with Castiel!"
"Shut the fuck up," Dean growls at him.
Then there are hands on his collar and Dean only just has time to turn his head before his mouth connects with Castiel's once more, only there's nothing at all brief or simple about this kiss. Castiel attacks with single-minded purpose, kissing him so thoroughly that Dean ends up sagging helplessly against Castiel's side, muscles equally weak with shock and something Dean can't believe is strong arousal.
"I thought you would never say anything," Castiel says once he finally tears his lips away from Dean's mouth.
"Huh?"
"I believed the matter required some patience," Castiel says. "But after nearly four years, I thought you were never going to address your attraction to me."
Sam's laughter grows in volume, but Dean ignores that for now.
"Wait...four years? Who said..."
But suddenly Dean doesn't care. Four years, four minutes, it doesn't matter how long he's wanted this because he's only gotten a taste and his body thrums with the need for more.
"Sam, get outta here," Dean commands him and his brother doesn't even stop to mock before he's out the door. Dean draws Castiel to him, frankly amazed by how good it feels to slide his arms around Cas' waist.
"Tell Heaven you're going to be late," he says softly and right before he leans in for another kiss, Castiel answers, a smile in his tone.
"Already have."
~~~
Good to Be Home
"Hey," Sam says, grinning and clapping Castiel on the shoulder. Castiel takes the bag from Sam's hand.
"Hello, Sam. Where's Dean?"
"Oh, he's checking something in the car," Sam says, rolling his eyes. "He kept swearing the last fifty miles it was making a weird noise."
"I'm sure it was," Castiel says, ever loyal to his boyfriend.
His somewhat bone-headed boyfriend, in Sam's opinion.
"I think he was just whining so he could complain about something other than how pathetic he was away from you for six days and accidentally convinced himself something was wrong," Sam says as they move into the living room.
An odd quavery smile appears on Castiel's face. Like he's secretly pleased Dean was a pain in Sam's ass all week long, but then feels guilty about it.
"It can't have been all bad," Castiel says.
"Yeah, a lot of it was fun. Mom and Dad say hi," Sam adds. "But we're not going again until you're on vacation from work."
"Alright," Castiel agrees.
They chat pleasantly about the trip until Dean shows up in the doorway, his bag clenched in slightly greasy hands.
"Hey," he says quietly.
He almost sounds shy.
Sam smirks.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel says. He stands from his seat, but doesn't move forward and neither does Dean.
"How you been?" Dean asks.
Castiel nods and his hands flutter at his sides as if they want to reach for him, but decided otherwise. "I'm fine. How are you?"
"Tired," Dean answers, tossing his bag down behind the recliner. "We got up pretty damn early to start driving."
"It's always easier to drive on early morning roads," Castiel offers.
Dean scratches the back of his head and smiles slightly.
"True. Not so many idiots out-"
"Oh, for god's sake," Sam blurts, startling both Dean and Castiel. "You too have got to get used to being a couple in front of people."
He stands up and hefts his bag into his arms.
"But I'll go easy on you this time," he says before shoving his shoulder into Castiel's back, propelling him towards Dean. "You haven't seen each other in a week. Touch. Be normal. I'm going to take a nap."
Sam wanders out through the kitchen, mind on his bed, but at the last second, he turns and peeks around the corner back into the living room. He grins.
Dean's gathered Castiel against his chest, his arms fully encircling him. Castiel's face is pressed into Dean's neck and Sam sees Dean's mouth moving as he murmurs into Castiel's ear. He thinks he sees Dean's lips form the words "missed you" among others.
Good. Hopefully they'll spend the afternoon screwing and cuddling and Dean will stop being such a jackass.
Sam doesn't know how he survived before Castiel came into their lives.
~~~
Old-fashioned
A key jingles in the front door's lock. Sam looks up from the soup he's stirring and rolls his eyes at Jess.
"Three. Two. One."
"Honeys, I'm home!"
Jess snorts and Sam groans. Gabriel won't ever stop making that joke as long as he gets that exact reaction.
"You have to stop doing that," Sam says as Gabriel saunters into the kitchen.
"Hey, you chose me, good and bad," Gabriel answers. He grabs Jess around the waist and tips her into a dramatic kiss. Sam watches with great interest, particularly at how Jess' hands clutch at Gabriel's arms.
"Hey, babe," Gabriel says in a low smoky tone that Sam knows makes Jess spine tingle.
"Hey, yourself," she says after he lets her up and she catches him for another quick kiss.
Sam shakes his head and turns back to the soup, adding a pinch of salt. "I didn't think the bad would include the same corny joke every day of my life."
Gabriel's hand is suddenly on his jaw. He appears on Sam's other side and with strength that Sam can't help but find utterly appealing, Gabriel forces Sam to look his way.
"Quit your bitching, Mongo," he says and gives Sam the exact same thorough kiss Jess had received, although he throws in a nice long ass grope for good measure.
Sam hears Jess giggling in the background and smiles into the kiss.
The bad might be corny jokes, but the good more than makes up for it.
~~~
Unexpected Friend
One day as Dean was walking down the street, a bird fell out of the sky at his feet. Its left wing was mangled and bent at an odd angle. He considered walking around it, but it made a pathetic noise and Dean felt inexplicably guilty.
"What the hell, dude," he said, sighing in defeat. The bird was probably diseased and Sam would probably kill him, but Dean found himself pulling off his jacket and carefully wrapping the bird up in it. He thought it was a raven. Or at least it was something large and black. It snuggled into the leather coat and made another sickly noise.
"What'd you do to yourself?" Dean asked quietly. "And what's more, why am I talking to you?"
The bird peered up at him and turned into his chest, resting its beak against him.
He carried it back to the house. Luckily, Sam was still at work, so Dean didn't have to hear his complaints as he transferred the bird to a clean bed sheet. He tried to look at wing, but every time he touched it, the poor thing crooned a low pained noise that Dean couldn't stand hearing.
"Fuck," Dean said. The only extra money he had was ear-marked for the car, but this damn bird. He looked down at it, petting its soft head and sighed again.
"Fucking bird," he murmured as he opened the computer to search for the nearest vet.
**********
The vet's name was Chuck. He didn't look like he could be trusted with another life, but it only took Dean a few moments to understand that Chuck really knew his way around a bird.
"The wing's broken," Chuck said, clicking his tongue. The bird stayed relatively quiet, only peeping softly a few times as Chuck looked at his wing.
"Looks like he fell pretty far." He frowned. "I don't know why he would have fallen though. Could be his wing was injured beforehand. Either way, I can set it, but you'll be stuck watching him for a pretty long time. Unless you want to leave him here."
Dean considered it. It wasn't like he had a bunch of extra time lying around to nurse a damned bird.
But then the thing flapped its good wing and turned on its side, struggling to reach Dean.
"Oh hey," Chuck said. "Calm down now."
Dean stepped closer and touched the bird's beak. "Dude, stop it."
The bird cooed and stopped moving, its eyes falling shut as Dean stroked its forehead.
He really didn’t have a choice.
Sam was home when Dean returned with the bandaged bird in a box. He looked up from the salad he was making.
"What's in the box?"
Dean set it on the table. "Some bird. How was work?"
Sam's eyebrows lifted. "Some bird?"
"Yeah. I....found it."
Sam looked into the box and the bird squawked at him. "Seriously, that's...a bird."
"Yep."
"You want to keep a bird you found outside?"
Dean shrugged. "It's my bird, dude."
He suspected the only reason Sam didn't argue against the bird was because Dean didn't complain about Sam's asshole boyfriend, Gabriel. He thought it was a fair trade.
**********
Dean discovered the following day that the bird hated it when Dean went to work. He fed it in the morning, checked its bandages and then promised to come back for lunch. When he returned the bird was making this continuous sad crooning noise that sounded a lot like crying.
"Hey, now, don't...what's wrong?" Dean picked up the box and took it to the sofa to sit. The bird tried to jump up, but Dean's petting hand was enough consolation to keep him firmly in the box.
"You really need a name, bird," Dean said as he stroked the feathers on the back of the bird's head. He looked at its beady black eyes, the inquisitive angle of his dark little head and the long wing encased in bandages. "You're pathetic, you know that?" The bird cooed. "How about Sid? You like Sid?" The bird screeched. "Okay, no Sid. Um...Carl? Joe? Riley?" The bird didn't seem to like any of these names. "Luke? Victor? Jimmy?" The bird flapped its good wing. "You like Jimmy?" When it didn't squeak again, Dean grinned. "Okay, fine. Jimmy it is."
Jimmy flipped out when Dean tried to leave again. He screeched and flailed in his box, flipping himself onto his bad wing and making a strangled noise when he squashed the wing.
"Stop it," Dean commanded. Only a few moments of soothing talk and gentle stroking calmed Jimmy down enough for Dean to think clearly. "I'm so getting fired."
Bobby's face when Dean explained Jimmy to him was priceless. "You wanna keep a damn bird in my garage?"
"Yeah, I know, but he freaks out and I'm worried he's going to hurt himself."
Bobby sighed, taking off his hat to wipe at his forehead. "Dean..."
"Bobby, please. I'll keep him in the back. I just..."
"Yeah." Bobby knew him well enough to see how important it was to Dean. Dean just didn't know why it was so important. Just that the bird relied on him now and Dean couldn't leave him at home to hurt himself.
They developed a schedule. Dean and Jimmy went to work every day and returned home to watch TV or work on the car. Well, Dean did those things while Jimmy sat in his box and cooed quietly. Each day, he grew stronger and his wing slowly healed. He still couldn't fly, but he could sit up and hop around.
Sam mostly ignored the bird, although Gabriel liked to ask Dean about his 'boyfriend' when he came over.
"Shut up," Dean said with a scowl. He threw a book at Gabriel. "At least he's less of a dick than you."
Sam frowned. "Stop it, both of you."
Dean rolled his eyes when Gabriel fell silent and smiled sweetly. He was such a suck up.
Everything went pretty smoothly. Right up until the weird guy with crazy eyes showed up.
"Where is it?"
Dean instantly regretted opening the door. The man on his front porch was handsome, but his expression was wild, his bright blue eyes wrecked. "Please, where is it?"
Dean stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind him. "Where is what?"
"It's...I don't know what form it’s taken," the man said, his rigid stance screaming frustration and fear. "Probably a small animal, a rabbit or a bird."
Dean felt his eyes widening.
"You mean Jimmy?"
That stopped the man short. Some degree of rationality eased into his eyes.
"You named it? Why? Why did you do this?"
Dean shrugged, feeling defensive. "I don't know. I thought if I was going to keep him around, he should get a name."
The man invaded Dean's personal space. He smelled faintly of ocean water.
"He? You communed with it?"
Dean snorted. "Dude, he's a bird. We didn't chat or anything. He just likes me or something, I don't know. He freaks out whenever I leave him."
The man stared at him, so hard Dean wondered if he was trying to stare through him. "What is it about you?"
"Okay, seriously, what is your problem?" Dean asked.
The man swallowed and put a hand on his forehead, as if he suddenly felt ill.
"Please take me to it," he said.
"I have no idea who you are," Dean said. "I'm not letting you-"
The man surged forward and the sudden panic in his expression shocked Dean into silence. "I don't have the time to argue. It's been weeks and I am in pain. Please, take me to him."
Dean imagined the headlines now. Man slaughtered on front porch by bird-crazed stranger. It wasn't worth the effort. If the guy wanted to see Jimmy that damn bad, well, Dean could take care of himself.
"Whatever. Come on." Dean let the man into the house and showed him into the living room where Jimmy was sleeping in his box. "Here he is."
The man made a strange noise in the back of his throat. Almost like a sob that was cut off before it could materialize.
"Finally," he murmured. Jimmy awoke at the sound of the man's voice and hopped to his feet. He made a short inquisitive noise as the man fell to his knees. "Oh." Reaching out, the man carefully touched Jimmy's injured wing. "My wing," he said softly.
Dean frowned.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
But the man didn't answer. Instead, he pulled Jimmy from the box.
"Hey, stop that-" Dean leapt across the room, but it was too late. The man cradled Jimmy against his chest and there was an eye-searing flash of white light.
Dean blinked and rubbed at his eyes. "What the hell did you do?" He heard a loud noise he couldn't recognize and felt a breeze on his face.
"Seriously, what the-" His vision suddenly cleared.
"What the fuck!"
The man was standing in exactly the same place, but Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. Against the back of the man's long tan coat, there was now a pair of enormous inky black wings.
The man's expression was now serene. He smiled at Dean.
"Thank you for caring for my grace."
"I...what? Your what?"
The man flapped the wings and shivered in apparent pleasure as they caressed his back.
"I lost it in battle. A group of demons tore it from me and cast it away."
"But..." Dean's thoughts felt muddled and slow. Nothing about this made sense. He wanted to wave it away, but the very real evidence of something clearly not normal fluttered and swayed on the guy's back. "What is grace?"
"I am an angel," the man said. "My name is Castiel. My grace is...everything I am."
"But no, because it was a bird. Jimmy. My bird and it...well, it was sort of annoying actually and it wouldn't leave me alone-"
Castiel frowned again.
"Yes, I find that puzzling, but...I feel it now." He stepped up to Dean and touched his face. "My grace attached itself to you and you cared for it." He smiled. "You cared for my soul."
The protests growing in Dean's throat died at Castiel's touch.
"Thank you," Castiel said. "I'd like to return the favor."
Dean didn't even really understand what he meant. This guy had shown up in his house, absorbed his bird and was now pressed full against his body, stroking his cheek. Nothing about this was comfortable or logical and Dean thought it was probably a bad idea to trust a bird-man, but it didn't stop him from leaning against Castiel.
"Yeah, okay."
~~~
Not Gone
Dean scans the jostling throng, pushing up on his toes to search for a particular head of dark messy hair.
"Damn it," he mutters. Fucking angels wandering away in a massive crowd.
"Here, Dean." Dean nearly jumps out of his skin as Castiel hands him a snow cone.
"Where'd you go?"
Castiel lifts an eyebrow and looks at the snow cone.
"I couldn't find you," Dean says, scowling.
Castiel smiles.
"I'm never far off, Dean."
~~~
Epic Laundry
The trench coat had only one goal in mind: save the righteous leather jacket from the five dollar bin.
The jacket is covered in a pile of spandex pants.
"Lemme go," it mumbles.
The trench grips it tight. Just in time, the trench thinks.
~~~
Another Date to Remember
"It's our anniversary."
Dean frowns. "What?"
"One year ago today, you accepted my mark," Castiel says fondly, eyes on Dean's shoulder. "I never thought I'd get married."
Dean stumbles to a chair to sit.
His life is so stupid.
~~~
Unintended
"And please, don't forget that you absolutely cannot see anyone, but Jo in those two hours."
Dean had to try very hard not to kick his father in the shins. After all, he was the one who came up with this plan. Jo wouldn't have been his first choice, but within a few months, Dean would lose the ability to bond. He'd rather spend his days with a woman he would have to learn to love than live the rest of his years in unending silence.
With Jo's father being the lord of this realm, John could also get a much-needed merger out of the deal.
"I know, Dad," Dean said with only a hint of exasperation.
"It'll be fine," John said, patting Dean's shoulder like he used to when Dean was a child. "Jo's a good woman. A strong hunter."
Not to mention smart, funny and beautiful. The kind of woman most men would desire and exactly the type of person Dean never could.
But that type of bond would never be allowed. Best not linger on resentment and make the best of his duty.
"Yes, she is," he said.
"It's nearly time," John said, squeezing Dean's shoulder. "I'll see you after. Good luck, son."
He left Dean alone in the large unfamiliar bedchamber. Dean didn't know if the bed would be necessary or not. Some bonds required instant coupling. Others never insisted on sexual gratification.
Dean hoped this would be the latter kind. Not that they wouldn't need to eventually, for the sake of heirs. But Dean dreaded losing control of his body with someone he didn't truly desire.
He glanced at the face of the large grandfather clock on the opposite wall. Ten till nine. She would be here soon. Time to ready the bond.
Dean sat on the small couch edged against the end of the massive bed and shut his eyes. This would be the hard part. Never in his life had he purposefully touched the latent bond energy buried deeply in his mind. It would have been too dangerous without his intended bond mate close at hand.
He felt along his memory, letting his mind wander gently until he hit a spark of unique power. It felt like lightning, sharp and overwhelming. For a moment, panic nearly took over, but Dean forced himself to relax and reach fully for the bond energy.
It snapped his questing mind towards itself, consuming his senses with immense strength and a single-minded purpose to claim.
Outside the maelstrom in his mind, Dean heard a soft knock at the door. Jo was here. He fumbled out of his chair and pulled at the door handle, desperate with the need for a mate.
The person at the door was not Jo.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought-"
That's all Dean heard. He vaguely registered a face with male features, a sharp nose and blue eyes before the bond energy exploded from his mind and plunged into the stranger's consciousness. Alien emotion, odd unknown images swirled into Dean's thoughts, a sense of another person. Something in the other man responded to the claim, reached back for Dean and with a shocking suddenness, a thick impenetrable bond snapped into place between them.
"What...who?" Dean asked as he dug fingers into the front of the man's pants and yanked him into the room. Heat and urgency confused his mind and movements, making him tug the man so hard he fell against Dean. Satisfaction unlike any he'd ever felt pounded into his senses when the man's slender form pressed against Dean's thicker frame.
"Cas," the man panted. "Castiel."
But Dean no longer cared. All that mattered was the pulsing chant of want mine now he felt in the bond.
The last coherent thought he had as he pushed his bond mate onto the bed and began quickly stripping him was that John was going to be epically pissed.
**********
As Dean peered down into the man’s eyes, he thought to himself that this was probably the most awkward moment of his life. The guy's shirt hung from one shoulder, his jaw line was speckled with bruises in the shape of Dean's mouth and his dark hair stuck up in wild tufts, messed up by Dean's clenching fingers. His cheeks were red from exertion and his pretty blue eyes were glassy with pleasure.
And Dean was still buried inside him.
"Um, hi," he said.
The man shifted under him, drawing a helpless groan from Dean. He really needed to pull out. The awkward shot to excruciating levels as Dean carefully moved his hips, finally slipping away from the guy with a soft breathless sigh.
"Thank you," the guy said in relief. Dean nodded and tried to remember the name he was almost certain the man had told him.
"I don't...that is, who...who are you? What happened?" the man asked as Dean flopped over on his back.
"I'm Dean," he told the ceiling. "I'm sorry, but you got in the way of my bonding energy."
He couldn't look at the guy's face, but his heavy silence told Dean everything he needed to know. This was somehow worse than bonding with a woman he couldn't love. Because the man, whatever his name, was beautiful. The exact sort of person Dean would choose for himself if allowed, but they hadn’t spoken beforehand. It didn’t matter that their bond energies clearly accepted one another. It wasn’t how things were done.
"I'm sorry," he said again.
"Who were you meant to bond with?" The question was tentative and quiet, as if the man were afraid of the answer.
"Lady Jo."
The man released a short gasp and sat up, eyes wide and staring down at Dean.
"Lady Jo? I've taken Lady Jo's bond mate?"
Dean responded to the panic he felt along the bond more than what he saw on the guy's face. Without thinking, he too sat up and pulled the man into his arms, rubbing soothing circles into his bare back. The bond thrummed pleasantly between them, pleased by the return of physically touching.
"It's okay. Hey? It's okay, alright? I didn't...I never really...I don't love her or anything. It was an arranged match," he babbled.
The man slowly relaxed in his arms and for a long moment, they leaned on each other. His new mate's scent filled Dean's senses. He was being taught, trained to respond only to this particular scent and Dean didn't seem to mind that much.
"What's your name?" he asked softly.
"Castiel."
Dean smiled against Castiel's neck. "That's it. I remember now. Cas."
Castiel shuddered lightly, whether with humor or pleasure, Dean didn't know. Or really care. Because now that the panic had passed, all that mattered was Castiel's warm smooth skin. The beat of his heart against Dean's chest. The soft tickle of his hair against Dean's temples.
He pressed a kiss against Castiel's jaw.
"Mine," he couldn't help saying in a near whisper.
With another shudder, Castiel pulled Dean down atop of him once more. He tilted his head, exposing his neck in a clear request for kisses and Dean grinned as he happily obliged.
Maybe Castiel wasn't so against the match after all.
~~~
Wanting/Needing
One day, God passed out humans to all the angels. One human per angel to keep as a beloved friend. Until he got to the end of the line and realized he'd run out of humans. And one poor little angel still hadn't gotten his.
"Don't worry, Castiel," God said. "Maybe one day, one of the humans on Earth will choose to be your friend."
But Castiel didn't think that would ever happen.
Even so, Castiel went to Earth frequently, visiting and hoping one of the humans would be his friend. But though they liked Castiel and enjoyed the help he gave them, none of the humans loved him.
One day, Castiel heard the frantic crying of a human. He immediately flew to the human's side and found a young man crying over another young man's body.
"What happened?" Castiel asked.
The crying man jumped to his feet and pushed a long metal object...a weapon into his face.
"Stay the hell away from him!" he shouted with all the anger and grief in his heart.
"I only want to help," Castiel protested.
"I don't need help from scumbags like you!" the young man shouted fiercely. Castiel frowned. What a very unpleasant human.
"I'm not a scumbag," Castiel informed him. "I'm an Angel of the Lord and I can heal your friend if you step back."
"You're a..." The young man's bright colored eyes narrowed with suspicion. "There's no such goddamned thing."
"I assure you, there is and we are hardly damned by God."
The young man pressed the end of his mortal weapon against Castiel's chest and poked him. "I'm watching you and if you so much as step a toe outta line, I swear to God, I'll blow you away."
Castiel frowned at him. Some of that sentence made no sense to him, but Castiel gathered that the young man wanted him to help, so he just nodded and went to the injured man. This second man, younger than the first, moaned softly in pain. No wonder. Castiel spied three deep wounds in his chest made by metal objects. He laid a hand over the wounds and called his grace to flow through the man, healing him back to perfect health.
The crying man shoved Castiel out of the way and dropped to his knees beside his friend.
"Holy shit, Sammy. Oh my god, I thought you were...that guy...you were fucking dead...”
"What's going on?" Sammy asked. "Who's that?"
"Some guy. Claims he's an angel," the man said derisively.
Castiel had no patience for this human and his lack of gratitude. He gave him a severe glare and said, "I don't like you," before lifting his wings and taking flight.
It was only a week later that Castiel heard a very familiar crying noise, only this time it had a kind of direction. Almost as if it were pointed specifically at him. Castiel followed the crying and soon heard the young man's voice weakly calling out.
"Angel guy," he said, pausing to cough blood into his hand. "Please, man. I'm sorry I was a jerk. I need some help here."
Castiel landed beside him and quickly examined his body.
"What have you done to yourself?" he asked angrily.
The young man's eyes, already fever bright, lit up.
"You came."
"You're injured," Castiel accused, dropping to his knees beside the young man. "Worse than your friend. Why is he not here?"
"Not his fault," the man said, his breath stuttering in lungs filling with fluid. Castiel immediately put his hands on the man's chest and allowed his grace to flow. To his very great surprise, the man's body was not the only thing that greedily sucked up his healing touch. The human soul within tugged on his grace and wrapped it around itself.
"Oh," the man said faintly, a smile growing on his face as his wounds closed up. "That's fucking awesome, man. You could sell that shit."
Castiel glared at him. "I would hardly take money in exchange for my grace."
The man shrugged.
"More for me," he said in an oddly knowing tone. As if he assumed...or rather that he knew with great confidence that if he called on Castiel again, Castiel would come to him.
"You are not my human," Castiel said definitively. "We don't get along. Angels must get along with their humans."
The man sat up, rubbing at his chest and giving Castiel a strange look. "I wasn't exactly offering myself," he said. "I mean, thanks for the healing and all, but it takes a bit more than a couple shots of miracle juice to get me into bed."
Disgust and frustration coursed through Castiel's grace. He climbed to his feet and glared down at the man.
"You are infuriating. Don't pray for me again."
Castiel went straight back to his search. There had to be one special human out there for him. His Father had promised. His human would be sweet and gentle. Curious and loving. Everything kind and wonderful and nothing at all like that sarcastic dismissive human Castiel still didn't know what to call. He must return to his search and put the human out of his mind.
It worked until the three days later, when the human called for him yet again.
There was no panic in his tone. No urgency or pain. Only a vague sense of disbelief. As if he questioned whether Castiel would return. Castiel wanted so badly to ignore the human. To return to Heaven and asked an older brother for advice. But the man challenged him. He didn't believe and Castiel felt so curious. What if the man really were in trouble? What if Castiel let him die just because he was angry with the human? His grace tugged and crashed within him, eager to return to the human.
It was impossible to resist.
He found the human in a large room alongside a black vehicle and in no apparent danger.
"Why have you called me?" The human looked up from the opened innards of the vehicle, surprise tugging his eyebrows up.
"You came," he said, parroting himself.
Castiel scowled. "You don't need me," he said stiffly.
"No, I do. C'mere." The human gestured for Castiel to move in close and peek down into the vehicle. "Put your hand there," he said, pointing towards a particular part. Suspicion grew in Castiel's mind, but he obeyed none the less. "You feel that?" In fact, Castiel did sense a lack of cohesiveness within the vehicle that felt very like a human illness.
"Your vehicle is injured."
The man smiled. "Yeah....can you fix it?"
Castiel snapped straight again, disbelief swelling his grace.
"You called me to heal your vehicle?"
"Can you do it?"
Castiel feared his anger would boil over. He felt seriously tempted to smite the vehicle, but there was something almost vulnerable in the man's expression. The emotion confused him and stayed his hand.
"Why did you really call me?"
The man shrugged. "My girl is fucked up pretty good this time. Wasn't sure I could fix her."
But it was a lie. Because as well as sensing the injury, Castiel also sensed the love and care that the man had poured into this vehicle. Touching the car felt slightly like when Castiel touched the man's soul. The man could find a way to fix the vehicle without Castiel's help.
"You are lying," he said bluntly.
The man stiffened.
"Yeah?" He turned and walked away, throwing a metal tool into a box with a loud clanging noise. "Well, maybe I am lying. Maybe I just wanted to see if you'd come back."
Castiel peered at him, confused. "Why?"
The man shrugged again, as if to deny the importance of what he was saying, the importance Castiel could clearly sense. "I wanted to see you, I guess. Tell you thanks for saving me and my brother. I don't...I mean, I don't even know your name." He looked up. "You do have a name?"
"Of course. Castiel."
The man's nose wrinkles. "Huh. That's kinda..." At Castiel's glare, his words melted away for a moment and he smiled. "S'nice. I'm Dean."
If nothing else, it was good to have a name to call the human.
“I came back,” Castiel said. “And now I am leaving again. Please don’t pray for me to heal your vehicle again,” he added sternly. Before flying away, he caught the flash of pleasure Dean felt over the fact that Castiel didn’t ask him not to pray at all.
Dean called him back the very next day. When Castiel appeared, he saw Dean sitting on a chair in a small outdoor room.
"Now what?" Castiel asked.
Dean smiled and held out a bottle. "You wanna beer?"
Castiel pressed his thumb and forefinger around the neck of the bottle and lifted it to examine. "This is alcohol," he said, shocked. Never had he ever been offered alcohol before. It was an invention purely for humans.
"Well, hey, how about that?" Dean kicked at the chair next to him. "Sit and drink."
Castiel eyed him. "Why?"
Dean let out a heavy sigh. "Don't you ask anything besides that? Shit, I don't know why! Because it's beer! Because...you know...friends have a beer together," he said, looking very intently at the bottle in his hands and not at Castiel. It felt as though something had punched through his grace, leaving his invisible wings shaking on his back.
"Are we...is that what we are...we are friends?"
Dean shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." He looked up at Castiel and smiled. "Why, don't you have friends?"
Castiel shook his head. "No, none."
"Wow, that's pathetic," Dean said. He kicked the chair. "Sounds like you need a friend."
Castiel looked from Dean's face to the chair and back again.
"Yes," he said quietly. "I have for a long time now."
Dean nodded and pointed to the chair. "Sit down; you're creeping me out."
So Castiel sat.
With his new friend.
Next Part
Author: CloudyJenn
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: multiple pairings
Rating: R
Word Count: 14,000+
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Warnings: General Season 5 Spoilers/Vague Season Six references
Summary: Too many for one summary. Supernatural characters doing things!
Author's Notes: A sixth collection of ficlets from my twitter. Most of these are longer ficlets. None of them contain explicit references to Season Six (and please no spoilers in comments!). Also, having read this over before posting, I realize there's a lot of total crack here. Oh and because it's been months since the last time I posted a twitfic collection, I am only mostly certain none are repeats. Like 95% sure, so please forgive me if I accidentally reposted a ficlet in here. Enjoy!
New Hobby
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Sam looks at Dean, but his brother is engrossed in his magazine.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
"Cas!" Sam finally blurts. "Stop it!"
Castiel frowns at him over his bubble wrap and Dean glares. "Dude, leave him alone. He likes it."
Sam sighs. Of course Dean took Castiel side.
Even Better
When Castiel shows up to Dean's apartment, the living room is clogged with smoke, the kitchen table is overturned and his boyfriend's sleeve is half burned away.
"Dean?"
"There was a candle," he says, green eyes wild. "The music was skipping and I knocked into table and the candle caught me. And the stupid chicken burned while I was cleaning up and I need to buy Sam a new tablecloth."
Castiel bites back a laugh, leads him to the couch and gently pushes him down. "Are you alright?"
Dean looks miserable.
"I suck at romance." He glances up at Castiel. "Can we just fuck?"
Castiel nods. "Yes, that would be nice."
Kitten
Dean glares at the tiny ball of fur in Sam's hands.
"What is that?"
"I think...I think it's Cas...?"
The thing lifts its small head and sleepily blinks bright blue eyes at him. "Mew?"
Dean's heart sinks. He'd know that meow anywhere.
"Shit."
**********
"Mew! Mew! Meow! Moah! Mew!"
"Oh my god, will you shut up?"
Dean resists the urge to throw his pillow at Castiel because in his tiny state, it might kill him.
"Dean," Sam says wearily. "Just let him up there."
"He's a fucking cat."
"Dean."
Dean sighs and throws off the covers. "Fine."
He scoops Castiel off the floor and tosses him on the bed.
"Now shut up."
Castiel waits until Dean is settled and then curls into a ball on his hipbone.
"You good?" Dean asks sarcastically.
Castiel's only answer is to yawn and bury his nose in the pocket of Dean's pajama pants.
Dean sighs.
**********
When Dean wakes up, Castiel is stuffed down the front of his shirt.
"What the fuck?"
Castiel is a ball of heat and silky fur brushing over Dean's skin. His shirt slowly rises and falls under the motion of Castiel's tiny breaths.
"God, this is weird."
He reaches under his shirt and drags Castiel out. The angel-turned-fluffy-sphere stumbles across Dean's lap, apparently annoyed by the interruption to his sleep.
"You little pervert," Dean admonishes him. It just figures Castiel would wait until now to put the moves on Dean.
"Moaw," Castiel says in a rather accusatory tone.
"Don't talk to me like that," Dean says. "You're the one molesting people in their sleep."
"Dean?"
Dean freezes.
"Dean, seriously."
"We gotta find a way to change him back," Dean mutters.
Castiel bumps his head against Dean's stomach and rubs gently. With a deep offended sigh, Dean gives into the silent request for petting.
"As soon as possible," he adds.
**********
Castiel won't stay in the backseat when they leave the motel in the Impala that morning. He takes three or four unsuccessful flying leaps off the seat and smashes into the back of Dean's seat before Sam takes pity on him.
"Just keep him over there," Dean grumbles, trying not to watch as Sam carefully tucks Castiel into the front of his coat.
"Mowr," Castiel says.
Everything is silent for about five minutes and then suddenly Sam jerks to the side.
"Hey!" he shouts, digging into his coat and extracting Castiel.
"What? What'd he do?"
"You licked me!" Sam holds Castiel up, one huge hand cupped around his back and the other supporting Cas' little back feet.
Dean grips the wheel hard.
"Licked you?"
"Yes, with his gross scratchy cat tongue!"
He shudders violently while Castiel contemplates him, his ears pointed towards Sam with great interest.
Dean snorts with laughter. The discomfort of Castiel licking Sam's...whatever aside, the horrified look on Sam's is pretty freaking hilarious.
Sam starts to put Castiel into the backseat again, but Dean stops him.
"Don't, he'll just hurt himself again."
Without taking his eyes off the road, Dean grabs Castiel and shoves him into the inner front pocket of his leather jacket. Castiel turns and struggles in the pocket for moment until his head pops out and he leans against Dean's chest, sighing happily.
"Don't lick anything while you're in there."
**********
Castiel sleeps the entire way to Bobby's house. The gentle rhythm of his breathing eases into Dean's consciousness so much that he doesn't even notice Castiel anymore. He remembers Castiel when they stop at a gas station halfway there and his arm brushes the lump in his front pocket.
"Is he okay?" Sam asks.
Dean peeks into his coat. Castiel moves a bit at losing his pillow on Dean's chest, but he doesn't wake up.
"He's fine. You want a soda?"
**********
When they get to Bobby's, they're treated to a pair of narrowed eyes.
"Where's Cas?"
Dean opens the side of his jacket.
"Is that...don't tell me..." Bobby says slowly.
"Don't tell you that Castiel is a cuddly furball? Sorry, no can do."
"I swear to God, one of these days," Bobby mumbles as he turns back into the house. "Well, c'mon," he yells over his shoulder. "Unless you like him better as a cat."
Dean really doesn't. Although it's not as bad as he first thought. He carefully digs Castiel out of his front pocket.
"C'mon, Whiskers, we gotta get some food into you."
**********
"No."
"He can help."
Dean tucks Castiel into the crook of his arm. "I don't trust him."
Castiel lets out a faint meow, as if to agree. Sam tosses the book aside.
"We're out of options."
Which Dean can't argue.
"Fine," he grumbles as he feeds Castiel a piece of cheese.
One ritual later, he's standing across from an outrageously amused Gabriel.
"Oh brother of mine, what did you get yourself into this time?" Gabriel picks Castiel up by the scruff of his neck. "Did you piss off any Egyptian gods lately, Deano?"
"What?" Castiel can't be comfortable like that, Dean thinks as he snatches him back. "How am I supposed to know?"
"You should keep track of these things," Gabriel says. "I've seen spells like this before. You reject these gods in love and they turn what you truly desire into something sacred. Something that can't be touched."
Dean gapes at him.
"No fucking way."
**********
"I don't desire-"
"Stop right there," Gabriel says. "Denial means more time with Puss in Boots here. This kind of spell usually involves getting over yourself. So suck it up and admit you want to cuddle with my little bro like the giant man-girl you are."
Dean would punch him, but his hands are full of confused mewling kitten.
**********
"Alright, so...apparently this is my fault."
Castiel is too busy batting at Dean's fingers to pay attention.
"It's fucking ridiculous." He wiggles his fingers so Castiel can pounce on them. "I don't even like you that much."
The stupidity of talking at a cat has Dean on his feet again, but as he walks away, a pathetic mewl stops him. Castiel is trying to follow. Trying to follow and nearly falling off the desk.
"Hey! He leaps back, heart in his throat, but it's not a cat that he catches. Hands clutch at his shoulders as Dean pressed a very human-shaped Castiel into the desk.
"Dean?"
"Really?"
"Really what?"
Dean shakes his head. "Never mind."
**********
Everything works out just great. That is, until Cas turns down a very cute and very angry goddess at a bar one night and wakes up the next day with a very slobbery puppy in his arms.
Happy Accident
It's when Dean lets himself get used to things that it happens.
Usually his mind whispers warnings to him, warnings that translate to vague feelings of unease and the urge to hurt anyone he might really care for.
But despite that urge, Castiel hangs around, glaring at Dean when he's a dick and sucking up to Sam. Now that the world's not in danger and Sam's as back to normal as possible, Dean actually starts to enjoy his life. Still a hunter and a brother and now getting visits from an angel just for the hell of it rather than because Castiel needs something.
So his day usually goes like this:
-Wake up when Sam hits him or yells at him or in one case, pours water over his head.
-Take a shower.
-Find Castiel sitting on his bed.
-Yell at Castiel if he forgot to change in the bathroom.
-Fight with Castiel about who should get breakfast.
-Have breakfast.
-Research latest case/perform tasks for latest case/travel towards latest case.
-Listen to Castiel complain about problems in Heaven.
-Complain about human problems to Castiel.
-Fight with Sam about where to have lunch.
-Have lunch.
-Gripe about Castiel leaving abruptly after lunch to return to Heaven.
-Perform further tasks for latest case.
-Call Bobby.
-Call to chat with Lisa and Ben.
-Bicker with Sam for an hour.
-Have dinner.
-Bitch at Castiel for not returning until after dinner.
-Hit a bar for a game of pool.
-Laugh at Castiel for his awkward cue handling skills.
-Teach Castiel about why it's hilarious to watch Sam try to score with some chick.
-Have too much beer.
-Fight with Castiel about being able to drive home.
-End back at hotel room through angelic means.
-Yell at Castiel for leaving his car in Sam's hands.
-Drift off while Castiel sits beside him, watching an episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show.
It's not exactly the apple pie life, but as it turns out, Dean really fucking enjoys it. He's got his brother back, he still gets to gank evil sons of bitches and he's starting to believe Castiel might not die this time. His life settles into a comfortable, but exciting pattern and Dean wouldn't do anything to change it.
Until he does on accident.
It happens right before Castiel leaves before lunch one day. He's got some projects cooking upstairs that need his attention. As such, he's been leaving earlier and staying away longer. Which normally wouldn't bug Dean, but it's screwing with his pattern.
"I'll try to come back before your evening meal," Castiel promises, apparently understanding why Dean's put out.
"Yeah, whatever," Dean says because it's still a bit freaky to him that Castiel can see inside his soul again or however that works.
"I'd appreciate it if you did," Sam chimes in, his nose pressed in a book. "Dean's an ass when you don't."
Dean throws a pillow at him.
"Just be careful," Dean says to Castiel and for the life of him, he never does understand why he does what happens next.
He kisses Castiel.
Just leans right over and pecks him on the mouth the way Mary used to kiss John before he left for work. Like a little connection, a brief message of 'I'll miss you' and Dean has no idea why he does it.
Castiel's wide eyes and slightly parted lips say he doesn't know either.
Sam is the first one to talk.
"Did you just kiss him?"
"What?" Dean glares at him and his denial is really stupid, but he makes it anyway. "No, of course not."
"Yeah, you did! Oh my god, you kissed him," Sam crows, throwing his head back as peals of laughter bubble up from his chest. "You're in gay love with Castiel!"
"Shut the fuck up," Dean growls at him.
Then there are hands on his collar and Dean only just has time to turn his head before his mouth connects with Castiel's once more, only there's nothing at all brief or simple about this kiss. Castiel attacks with single-minded purpose, kissing him so thoroughly that Dean ends up sagging helplessly against Castiel's side, muscles equally weak with shock and something Dean can't believe is strong arousal.
"I thought you would never say anything," Castiel says once he finally tears his lips away from Dean's mouth.
"Huh?"
"I believed the matter required some patience," Castiel says. "But after nearly four years, I thought you were never going to address your attraction to me."
Sam's laughter grows in volume, but Dean ignores that for now.
"Wait...four years? Who said..."
But suddenly Dean doesn't care. Four years, four minutes, it doesn't matter how long he's wanted this because he's only gotten a taste and his body thrums with the need for more.
"Sam, get outta here," Dean commands him and his brother doesn't even stop to mock before he's out the door. Dean draws Castiel to him, frankly amazed by how good it feels to slide his arms around Cas' waist.
"Tell Heaven you're going to be late," he says softly and right before he leans in for another kiss, Castiel answers, a smile in his tone.
"Already have."
Good to Be Home
"Hey," Sam says, grinning and clapping Castiel on the shoulder. Castiel takes the bag from Sam's hand.
"Hello, Sam. Where's Dean?"
"Oh, he's checking something in the car," Sam says, rolling his eyes. "He kept swearing the last fifty miles it was making a weird noise."
"I'm sure it was," Castiel says, ever loyal to his boyfriend.
His somewhat bone-headed boyfriend, in Sam's opinion.
"I think he was just whining so he could complain about something other than how pathetic he was away from you for six days and accidentally convinced himself something was wrong," Sam says as they move into the living room.
An odd quavery smile appears on Castiel's face. Like he's secretly pleased Dean was a pain in Sam's ass all week long, but then feels guilty about it.
"It can't have been all bad," Castiel says.
"Yeah, a lot of it was fun. Mom and Dad say hi," Sam adds. "But we're not going again until you're on vacation from work."
"Alright," Castiel agrees.
They chat pleasantly about the trip until Dean shows up in the doorway, his bag clenched in slightly greasy hands.
"Hey," he says quietly.
He almost sounds shy.
Sam smirks.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel says. He stands from his seat, but doesn't move forward and neither does Dean.
"How you been?" Dean asks.
Castiel nods and his hands flutter at his sides as if they want to reach for him, but decided otherwise. "I'm fine. How are you?"
"Tired," Dean answers, tossing his bag down behind the recliner. "We got up pretty damn early to start driving."
"It's always easier to drive on early morning roads," Castiel offers.
Dean scratches the back of his head and smiles slightly.
"True. Not so many idiots out-"
"Oh, for god's sake," Sam blurts, startling both Dean and Castiel. "You too have got to get used to being a couple in front of people."
He stands up and hefts his bag into his arms.
"But I'll go easy on you this time," he says before shoving his shoulder into Castiel's back, propelling him towards Dean. "You haven't seen each other in a week. Touch. Be normal. I'm going to take a nap."
Sam wanders out through the kitchen, mind on his bed, but at the last second, he turns and peeks around the corner back into the living room. He grins.
Dean's gathered Castiel against his chest, his arms fully encircling him. Castiel's face is pressed into Dean's neck and Sam sees Dean's mouth moving as he murmurs into Castiel's ear. He thinks he sees Dean's lips form the words "missed you" among others.
Good. Hopefully they'll spend the afternoon screwing and cuddling and Dean will stop being such a jackass.
Sam doesn't know how he survived before Castiel came into their lives.
Old-fashioned
A key jingles in the front door's lock. Sam looks up from the soup he's stirring and rolls his eyes at Jess.
"Three. Two. One."
"Honeys, I'm home!"
Jess snorts and Sam groans. Gabriel won't ever stop making that joke as long as he gets that exact reaction.
"You have to stop doing that," Sam says as Gabriel saunters into the kitchen.
"Hey, you chose me, good and bad," Gabriel answers. He grabs Jess around the waist and tips her into a dramatic kiss. Sam watches with great interest, particularly at how Jess' hands clutch at Gabriel's arms.
"Hey, babe," Gabriel says in a low smoky tone that Sam knows makes Jess spine tingle.
"Hey, yourself," she says after he lets her up and she catches him for another quick kiss.
Sam shakes his head and turns back to the soup, adding a pinch of salt. "I didn't think the bad would include the same corny joke every day of my life."
Gabriel's hand is suddenly on his jaw. He appears on Sam's other side and with strength that Sam can't help but find utterly appealing, Gabriel forces Sam to look his way.
"Quit your bitching, Mongo," he says and gives Sam the exact same thorough kiss Jess had received, although he throws in a nice long ass grope for good measure.
Sam hears Jess giggling in the background and smiles into the kiss.
The bad might be corny jokes, but the good more than makes up for it.
Unexpected Friend
One day as Dean was walking down the street, a bird fell out of the sky at his feet. Its left wing was mangled and bent at an odd angle. He considered walking around it, but it made a pathetic noise and Dean felt inexplicably guilty.
"What the hell, dude," he said, sighing in defeat. The bird was probably diseased and Sam would probably kill him, but Dean found himself pulling off his jacket and carefully wrapping the bird up in it. He thought it was a raven. Or at least it was something large and black. It snuggled into the leather coat and made another sickly noise.
"What'd you do to yourself?" Dean asked quietly. "And what's more, why am I talking to you?"
The bird peered up at him and turned into his chest, resting its beak against him.
He carried it back to the house. Luckily, Sam was still at work, so Dean didn't have to hear his complaints as he transferred the bird to a clean bed sheet. He tried to look at wing, but every time he touched it, the poor thing crooned a low pained noise that Dean couldn't stand hearing.
"Fuck," Dean said. The only extra money he had was ear-marked for the car, but this damn bird. He looked down at it, petting its soft head and sighed again.
"Fucking bird," he murmured as he opened the computer to search for the nearest vet.
**********
The vet's name was Chuck. He didn't look like he could be trusted with another life, but it only took Dean a few moments to understand that Chuck really knew his way around a bird.
"The wing's broken," Chuck said, clicking his tongue. The bird stayed relatively quiet, only peeping softly a few times as Chuck looked at his wing.
"Looks like he fell pretty far." He frowned. "I don't know why he would have fallen though. Could be his wing was injured beforehand. Either way, I can set it, but you'll be stuck watching him for a pretty long time. Unless you want to leave him here."
Dean considered it. It wasn't like he had a bunch of extra time lying around to nurse a damned bird.
But then the thing flapped its good wing and turned on its side, struggling to reach Dean.
"Oh hey," Chuck said. "Calm down now."
Dean stepped closer and touched the bird's beak. "Dude, stop it."
The bird cooed and stopped moving, its eyes falling shut as Dean stroked its forehead.
He really didn’t have a choice.
Sam was home when Dean returned with the bandaged bird in a box. He looked up from the salad he was making.
"What's in the box?"
Dean set it on the table. "Some bird. How was work?"
Sam's eyebrows lifted. "Some bird?"
"Yeah. I....found it."
Sam looked into the box and the bird squawked at him. "Seriously, that's...a bird."
"Yep."
"You want to keep a bird you found outside?"
Dean shrugged. "It's my bird, dude."
He suspected the only reason Sam didn't argue against the bird was because Dean didn't complain about Sam's asshole boyfriend, Gabriel. He thought it was a fair trade.
**********
Dean discovered the following day that the bird hated it when Dean went to work. He fed it in the morning, checked its bandages and then promised to come back for lunch. When he returned the bird was making this continuous sad crooning noise that sounded a lot like crying.
"Hey, now, don't...what's wrong?" Dean picked up the box and took it to the sofa to sit. The bird tried to jump up, but Dean's petting hand was enough consolation to keep him firmly in the box.
"You really need a name, bird," Dean said as he stroked the feathers on the back of the bird's head. He looked at its beady black eyes, the inquisitive angle of his dark little head and the long wing encased in bandages. "You're pathetic, you know that?" The bird cooed. "How about Sid? You like Sid?" The bird screeched. "Okay, no Sid. Um...Carl? Joe? Riley?" The bird didn't seem to like any of these names. "Luke? Victor? Jimmy?" The bird flapped its good wing. "You like Jimmy?" When it didn't squeak again, Dean grinned. "Okay, fine. Jimmy it is."
Jimmy flipped out when Dean tried to leave again. He screeched and flailed in his box, flipping himself onto his bad wing and making a strangled noise when he squashed the wing.
"Stop it," Dean commanded. Only a few moments of soothing talk and gentle stroking calmed Jimmy down enough for Dean to think clearly. "I'm so getting fired."
Bobby's face when Dean explained Jimmy to him was priceless. "You wanna keep a damn bird in my garage?"
"Yeah, I know, but he freaks out and I'm worried he's going to hurt himself."
Bobby sighed, taking off his hat to wipe at his forehead. "Dean..."
"Bobby, please. I'll keep him in the back. I just..."
"Yeah." Bobby knew him well enough to see how important it was to Dean. Dean just didn't know why it was so important. Just that the bird relied on him now and Dean couldn't leave him at home to hurt himself.
They developed a schedule. Dean and Jimmy went to work every day and returned home to watch TV or work on the car. Well, Dean did those things while Jimmy sat in his box and cooed quietly. Each day, he grew stronger and his wing slowly healed. He still couldn't fly, but he could sit up and hop around.
Sam mostly ignored the bird, although Gabriel liked to ask Dean about his 'boyfriend' when he came over.
"Shut up," Dean said with a scowl. He threw a book at Gabriel. "At least he's less of a dick than you."
Sam frowned. "Stop it, both of you."
Dean rolled his eyes when Gabriel fell silent and smiled sweetly. He was such a suck up.
Everything went pretty smoothly. Right up until the weird guy with crazy eyes showed up.
"Where is it?"
Dean instantly regretted opening the door. The man on his front porch was handsome, but his expression was wild, his bright blue eyes wrecked. "Please, where is it?"
Dean stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind him. "Where is what?"
"It's...I don't know what form it’s taken," the man said, his rigid stance screaming frustration and fear. "Probably a small animal, a rabbit or a bird."
Dean felt his eyes widening.
"You mean Jimmy?"
That stopped the man short. Some degree of rationality eased into his eyes.
"You named it? Why? Why did you do this?"
Dean shrugged, feeling defensive. "I don't know. I thought if I was going to keep him around, he should get a name."
The man invaded Dean's personal space. He smelled faintly of ocean water.
"He? You communed with it?"
Dean snorted. "Dude, he's a bird. We didn't chat or anything. He just likes me or something, I don't know. He freaks out whenever I leave him."
The man stared at him, so hard Dean wondered if he was trying to stare through him. "What is it about you?"
"Okay, seriously, what is your problem?" Dean asked.
The man swallowed and put a hand on his forehead, as if he suddenly felt ill.
"Please take me to it," he said.
"I have no idea who you are," Dean said. "I'm not letting you-"
The man surged forward and the sudden panic in his expression shocked Dean into silence. "I don't have the time to argue. It's been weeks and I am in pain. Please, take me to him."
Dean imagined the headlines now. Man slaughtered on front porch by bird-crazed stranger. It wasn't worth the effort. If the guy wanted to see Jimmy that damn bad, well, Dean could take care of himself.
"Whatever. Come on." Dean let the man into the house and showed him into the living room where Jimmy was sleeping in his box. "Here he is."
The man made a strange noise in the back of his throat. Almost like a sob that was cut off before it could materialize.
"Finally," he murmured. Jimmy awoke at the sound of the man's voice and hopped to his feet. He made a short inquisitive noise as the man fell to his knees. "Oh." Reaching out, the man carefully touched Jimmy's injured wing. "My wing," he said softly.
Dean frowned.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
But the man didn't answer. Instead, he pulled Jimmy from the box.
"Hey, stop that-" Dean leapt across the room, but it was too late. The man cradled Jimmy against his chest and there was an eye-searing flash of white light.
Dean blinked and rubbed at his eyes. "What the hell did you do?" He heard a loud noise he couldn't recognize and felt a breeze on his face.
"Seriously, what the-" His vision suddenly cleared.
"What the fuck!"
The man was standing in exactly the same place, but Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. Against the back of the man's long tan coat, there was now a pair of enormous inky black wings.
The man's expression was now serene. He smiled at Dean.
"Thank you for caring for my grace."
"I...what? Your what?"
The man flapped the wings and shivered in apparent pleasure as they caressed his back.
"I lost it in battle. A group of demons tore it from me and cast it away."
"But..." Dean's thoughts felt muddled and slow. Nothing about this made sense. He wanted to wave it away, but the very real evidence of something clearly not normal fluttered and swayed on the guy's back. "What is grace?"
"I am an angel," the man said. "My name is Castiel. My grace is...everything I am."
"But no, because it was a bird. Jimmy. My bird and it...well, it was sort of annoying actually and it wouldn't leave me alone-"
Castiel frowned again.
"Yes, I find that puzzling, but...I feel it now." He stepped up to Dean and touched his face. "My grace attached itself to you and you cared for it." He smiled. "You cared for my soul."
The protests growing in Dean's throat died at Castiel's touch.
"Thank you," Castiel said. "I'd like to return the favor."
Dean didn't even really understand what he meant. This guy had shown up in his house, absorbed his bird and was now pressed full against his body, stroking his cheek. Nothing about this was comfortable or logical and Dean thought it was probably a bad idea to trust a bird-man, but it didn't stop him from leaning against Castiel.
"Yeah, okay."
Not Gone
Dean scans the jostling throng, pushing up on his toes to search for a particular head of dark messy hair.
"Damn it," he mutters. Fucking angels wandering away in a massive crowd.
"Here, Dean." Dean nearly jumps out of his skin as Castiel hands him a snow cone.
"Where'd you go?"
Castiel lifts an eyebrow and looks at the snow cone.
"I couldn't find you," Dean says, scowling.
Castiel smiles.
"I'm never far off, Dean."
Epic Laundry
The trench coat had only one goal in mind: save the righteous leather jacket from the five dollar bin.
The jacket is covered in a pile of spandex pants.
"Lemme go," it mumbles.
The trench grips it tight. Just in time, the trench thinks.
Another Date to Remember
"It's our anniversary."
Dean frowns. "What?"
"One year ago today, you accepted my mark," Castiel says fondly, eyes on Dean's shoulder. "I never thought I'd get married."
Dean stumbles to a chair to sit.
His life is so stupid.
Unintended
"And please, don't forget that you absolutely cannot see anyone, but Jo in those two hours."
Dean had to try very hard not to kick his father in the shins. After all, he was the one who came up with this plan. Jo wouldn't have been his first choice, but within a few months, Dean would lose the ability to bond. He'd rather spend his days with a woman he would have to learn to love than live the rest of his years in unending silence.
With Jo's father being the lord of this realm, John could also get a much-needed merger out of the deal.
"I know, Dad," Dean said with only a hint of exasperation.
"It'll be fine," John said, patting Dean's shoulder like he used to when Dean was a child. "Jo's a good woman. A strong hunter."
Not to mention smart, funny and beautiful. The kind of woman most men would desire and exactly the type of person Dean never could.
But that type of bond would never be allowed. Best not linger on resentment and make the best of his duty.
"Yes, she is," he said.
"It's nearly time," John said, squeezing Dean's shoulder. "I'll see you after. Good luck, son."
He left Dean alone in the large unfamiliar bedchamber. Dean didn't know if the bed would be necessary or not. Some bonds required instant coupling. Others never insisted on sexual gratification.
Dean hoped this would be the latter kind. Not that they wouldn't need to eventually, for the sake of heirs. But Dean dreaded losing control of his body with someone he didn't truly desire.
He glanced at the face of the large grandfather clock on the opposite wall. Ten till nine. She would be here soon. Time to ready the bond.
Dean sat on the small couch edged against the end of the massive bed and shut his eyes. This would be the hard part. Never in his life had he purposefully touched the latent bond energy buried deeply in his mind. It would have been too dangerous without his intended bond mate close at hand.
He felt along his memory, letting his mind wander gently until he hit a spark of unique power. It felt like lightning, sharp and overwhelming. For a moment, panic nearly took over, but Dean forced himself to relax and reach fully for the bond energy.
It snapped his questing mind towards itself, consuming his senses with immense strength and a single-minded purpose to claim.
Outside the maelstrom in his mind, Dean heard a soft knock at the door. Jo was here. He fumbled out of his chair and pulled at the door handle, desperate with the need for a mate.
The person at the door was not Jo.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought-"
That's all Dean heard. He vaguely registered a face with male features, a sharp nose and blue eyes before the bond energy exploded from his mind and plunged into the stranger's consciousness. Alien emotion, odd unknown images swirled into Dean's thoughts, a sense of another person. Something in the other man responded to the claim, reached back for Dean and with a shocking suddenness, a thick impenetrable bond snapped into place between them.
"What...who?" Dean asked as he dug fingers into the front of the man's pants and yanked him into the room. Heat and urgency confused his mind and movements, making him tug the man so hard he fell against Dean. Satisfaction unlike any he'd ever felt pounded into his senses when the man's slender form pressed against Dean's thicker frame.
"Cas," the man panted. "Castiel."
But Dean no longer cared. All that mattered was the pulsing chant of want mine now he felt in the bond.
The last coherent thought he had as he pushed his bond mate onto the bed and began quickly stripping him was that John was going to be epically pissed.
**********
As Dean peered down into the man’s eyes, he thought to himself that this was probably the most awkward moment of his life. The guy's shirt hung from one shoulder, his jaw line was speckled with bruises in the shape of Dean's mouth and his dark hair stuck up in wild tufts, messed up by Dean's clenching fingers. His cheeks were red from exertion and his pretty blue eyes were glassy with pleasure.
And Dean was still buried inside him.
"Um, hi," he said.
The man shifted under him, drawing a helpless groan from Dean. He really needed to pull out. The awkward shot to excruciating levels as Dean carefully moved his hips, finally slipping away from the guy with a soft breathless sigh.
"Thank you," the guy said in relief. Dean nodded and tried to remember the name he was almost certain the man had told him.
"I don't...that is, who...who are you? What happened?" the man asked as Dean flopped over on his back.
"I'm Dean," he told the ceiling. "I'm sorry, but you got in the way of my bonding energy."
He couldn't look at the guy's face, but his heavy silence told Dean everything he needed to know. This was somehow worse than bonding with a woman he couldn't love. Because the man, whatever his name, was beautiful. The exact sort of person Dean would choose for himself if allowed, but they hadn’t spoken beforehand. It didn’t matter that their bond energies clearly accepted one another. It wasn’t how things were done.
"I'm sorry," he said again.
"Who were you meant to bond with?" The question was tentative and quiet, as if the man were afraid of the answer.
"Lady Jo."
The man released a short gasp and sat up, eyes wide and staring down at Dean.
"Lady Jo? I've taken Lady Jo's bond mate?"
Dean responded to the panic he felt along the bond more than what he saw on the guy's face. Without thinking, he too sat up and pulled the man into his arms, rubbing soothing circles into his bare back. The bond thrummed pleasantly between them, pleased by the return of physically touching.
"It's okay. Hey? It's okay, alright? I didn't...I never really...I don't love her or anything. It was an arranged match," he babbled.
The man slowly relaxed in his arms and for a long moment, they leaned on each other. His new mate's scent filled Dean's senses. He was being taught, trained to respond only to this particular scent and Dean didn't seem to mind that much.
"What's your name?" he asked softly.
"Castiel."
Dean smiled against Castiel's neck. "That's it. I remember now. Cas."
Castiel shuddered lightly, whether with humor or pleasure, Dean didn't know. Or really care. Because now that the panic had passed, all that mattered was Castiel's warm smooth skin. The beat of his heart against Dean's chest. The soft tickle of his hair against Dean's temples.
He pressed a kiss against Castiel's jaw.
"Mine," he couldn't help saying in a near whisper.
With another shudder, Castiel pulled Dean down atop of him once more. He tilted his head, exposing his neck in a clear request for kisses and Dean grinned as he happily obliged.
Maybe Castiel wasn't so against the match after all.
Wanting/Needing
One day, God passed out humans to all the angels. One human per angel to keep as a beloved friend. Until he got to the end of the line and realized he'd run out of humans. And one poor little angel still hadn't gotten his.
"Don't worry, Castiel," God said. "Maybe one day, one of the humans on Earth will choose to be your friend."
But Castiel didn't think that would ever happen.
Even so, Castiel went to Earth frequently, visiting and hoping one of the humans would be his friend. But though they liked Castiel and enjoyed the help he gave them, none of the humans loved him.
One day, Castiel heard the frantic crying of a human. He immediately flew to the human's side and found a young man crying over another young man's body.
"What happened?" Castiel asked.
The crying man jumped to his feet and pushed a long metal object...a weapon into his face.
"Stay the hell away from him!" he shouted with all the anger and grief in his heart.
"I only want to help," Castiel protested.
"I don't need help from scumbags like you!" the young man shouted fiercely. Castiel frowned. What a very unpleasant human.
"I'm not a scumbag," Castiel informed him. "I'm an Angel of the Lord and I can heal your friend if you step back."
"You're a..." The young man's bright colored eyes narrowed with suspicion. "There's no such goddamned thing."
"I assure you, there is and we are hardly damned by God."
The young man pressed the end of his mortal weapon against Castiel's chest and poked him. "I'm watching you and if you so much as step a toe outta line, I swear to God, I'll blow you away."
Castiel frowned at him. Some of that sentence made no sense to him, but Castiel gathered that the young man wanted him to help, so he just nodded and went to the injured man. This second man, younger than the first, moaned softly in pain. No wonder. Castiel spied three deep wounds in his chest made by metal objects. He laid a hand over the wounds and called his grace to flow through the man, healing him back to perfect health.
The crying man shoved Castiel out of the way and dropped to his knees beside his friend.
"Holy shit, Sammy. Oh my god, I thought you were...that guy...you were fucking dead...”
"What's going on?" Sammy asked. "Who's that?"
"Some guy. Claims he's an angel," the man said derisively.
Castiel had no patience for this human and his lack of gratitude. He gave him a severe glare and said, "I don't like you," before lifting his wings and taking flight.
It was only a week later that Castiel heard a very familiar crying noise, only this time it had a kind of direction. Almost as if it were pointed specifically at him. Castiel followed the crying and soon heard the young man's voice weakly calling out.
"Angel guy," he said, pausing to cough blood into his hand. "Please, man. I'm sorry I was a jerk. I need some help here."
Castiel landed beside him and quickly examined his body.
"What have you done to yourself?" he asked angrily.
The young man's eyes, already fever bright, lit up.
"You came."
"You're injured," Castiel accused, dropping to his knees beside the young man. "Worse than your friend. Why is he not here?"
"Not his fault," the man said, his breath stuttering in lungs filling with fluid. Castiel immediately put his hands on the man's chest and allowed his grace to flow. To his very great surprise, the man's body was not the only thing that greedily sucked up his healing touch. The human soul within tugged on his grace and wrapped it around itself.
"Oh," the man said faintly, a smile growing on his face as his wounds closed up. "That's fucking awesome, man. You could sell that shit."
Castiel glared at him. "I would hardly take money in exchange for my grace."
The man shrugged.
"More for me," he said in an oddly knowing tone. As if he assumed...or rather that he knew with great confidence that if he called on Castiel again, Castiel would come to him.
"You are not my human," Castiel said definitively. "We don't get along. Angels must get along with their humans."
The man sat up, rubbing at his chest and giving Castiel a strange look. "I wasn't exactly offering myself," he said. "I mean, thanks for the healing and all, but it takes a bit more than a couple shots of miracle juice to get me into bed."
Disgust and frustration coursed through Castiel's grace. He climbed to his feet and glared down at the man.
"You are infuriating. Don't pray for me again."
Castiel went straight back to his search. There had to be one special human out there for him. His Father had promised. His human would be sweet and gentle. Curious and loving. Everything kind and wonderful and nothing at all like that sarcastic dismissive human Castiel still didn't know what to call. He must return to his search and put the human out of his mind.
It worked until the three days later, when the human called for him yet again.
There was no panic in his tone. No urgency or pain. Only a vague sense of disbelief. As if he questioned whether Castiel would return. Castiel wanted so badly to ignore the human. To return to Heaven and asked an older brother for advice. But the man challenged him. He didn't believe and Castiel felt so curious. What if the man really were in trouble? What if Castiel let him die just because he was angry with the human? His grace tugged and crashed within him, eager to return to the human.
It was impossible to resist.
He found the human in a large room alongside a black vehicle and in no apparent danger.
"Why have you called me?" The human looked up from the opened innards of the vehicle, surprise tugging his eyebrows up.
"You came," he said, parroting himself.
Castiel scowled. "You don't need me," he said stiffly.
"No, I do. C'mere." The human gestured for Castiel to move in close and peek down into the vehicle. "Put your hand there," he said, pointing towards a particular part. Suspicion grew in Castiel's mind, but he obeyed none the less. "You feel that?" In fact, Castiel did sense a lack of cohesiveness within the vehicle that felt very like a human illness.
"Your vehicle is injured."
The man smiled. "Yeah....can you fix it?"
Castiel snapped straight again, disbelief swelling his grace.
"You called me to heal your vehicle?"
"Can you do it?"
Castiel feared his anger would boil over. He felt seriously tempted to smite the vehicle, but there was something almost vulnerable in the man's expression. The emotion confused him and stayed his hand.
"Why did you really call me?"
The man shrugged. "My girl is fucked up pretty good this time. Wasn't sure I could fix her."
But it was a lie. Because as well as sensing the injury, Castiel also sensed the love and care that the man had poured into this vehicle. Touching the car felt slightly like when Castiel touched the man's soul. The man could find a way to fix the vehicle without Castiel's help.
"You are lying," he said bluntly.
The man stiffened.
"Yeah?" He turned and walked away, throwing a metal tool into a box with a loud clanging noise. "Well, maybe I am lying. Maybe I just wanted to see if you'd come back."
Castiel peered at him, confused. "Why?"
The man shrugged again, as if to deny the importance of what he was saying, the importance Castiel could clearly sense. "I wanted to see you, I guess. Tell you thanks for saving me and my brother. I don't...I mean, I don't even know your name." He looked up. "You do have a name?"
"Of course. Castiel."
The man's nose wrinkles. "Huh. That's kinda..." At Castiel's glare, his words melted away for a moment and he smiled. "S'nice. I'm Dean."
If nothing else, it was good to have a name to call the human.
“I came back,” Castiel said. “And now I am leaving again. Please don’t pray for me to heal your vehicle again,” he added sternly. Before flying away, he caught the flash of pleasure Dean felt over the fact that Castiel didn’t ask him not to pray at all.
Dean called him back the very next day. When Castiel appeared, he saw Dean sitting on a chair in a small outdoor room.
"Now what?" Castiel asked.
Dean smiled and held out a bottle. "You wanna beer?"
Castiel pressed his thumb and forefinger around the neck of the bottle and lifted it to examine. "This is alcohol," he said, shocked. Never had he ever been offered alcohol before. It was an invention purely for humans.
"Well, hey, how about that?" Dean kicked at the chair next to him. "Sit and drink."
Castiel eyed him. "Why?"
Dean let out a heavy sigh. "Don't you ask anything besides that? Shit, I don't know why! Because it's beer! Because...you know...friends have a beer together," he said, looking very intently at the bottle in his hands and not at Castiel. It felt as though something had punched through his grace, leaving his invisible wings shaking on his back.
"Are we...is that what we are...we are friends?"
Dean shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." He looked up at Castiel and smiled. "Why, don't you have friends?"
Castiel shook his head. "No, none."
"Wow, that's pathetic," Dean said. He kicked the chair. "Sounds like you need a friend."
Castiel looked from Dean's face to the chair and back again.
"Yes," he said quietly. "I have for a long time now."
Dean nodded and pointed to the chair. "Sit down; you're creeping me out."
So Castiel sat.
With his new friend.
Next Part
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-11-01 06:11 pm (UTC)Castiel nods. "Yes, that would be nice."
LOL! It's the thought that counts.
"You little pervert," Dean admonishes him. It just figures Castiel would wait until now to put the moves on Dean.
"Moaw," Castiel says in a rather accusatory tone.
"Don't talk to me like that," Dean says. "You're the one molesting people in their sleep."
"Dean?"
Dean freezes.
LOL! Busted!
Then there are hands on his collar and Dean only just has time to turn his head before his mouth connects with Castiel's once more, only there's nothing at all brief or simple about this kiss. Castiel attacks with single-minded purpose, kissing him so thoroughly that Dean ends up sagging helplessly against Castiel's side, muscles equally weak with shock and something Dean can't believe is strong arousal.
"I thought you would never say anything," Castiel says once he finally tears his lips away from Dean's mouth.
"Huh?"
"I believed the matter required some patience," Castiel says. "But after nearly four years, I thought you were never going to address your attraction to me."
LOL! That is just sad but at least he does it.
Dean didn't even really understand what he meant. This guy had shown up in his house, absorbed his bird and was now pressed full against his body, stroking his cheek. Nothing about this was comfortable or logical and Dean thought it was probably a bad idea to trust a bird-man, but it didn't stop him from leaning against Castiel.
"Yeah, okay."
Ah! Sweet!
"I couldn't find you," Dean says, scowling.
Castiel smiles.
"I'm never far off, Dean."
Ah!
Epic Laundry
The trench coat had only one goal in mind: save the righteous leather jacket from the five dollar bin.
The jacket is covered in a pile of spandex pants.
"Lemme go," it mumbles.
The trench grips it tight. Just in time, the trench thinks.
LOL! I think I just died laughing.
"Wow, that's pathetic," Dean said. He kicked the chair. "Sounds like you need a friend."
Castiel looked from Dean's face to the chair and back again.
"Yes," he said quietly. "I have for a long time now."
Ah! Proving that sometimes the best things are unexpected.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-01 06:14 pm (UTC)^_^
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-02 12:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-02 05:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 03:22 am (UTC);)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-05 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 03:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-01 06:55 am (UTC)But it's also perfect as is, as usual <3
no subject
Date: 2011-12-20 04:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-02 11:30 pm (UTC)Wanting/Needing - so sweet tale and in character enough