Pairing: Dean/Castiel, eventually
Word Count: 2239
Spoilers: Season six – after episode 6.15, The French Mistake.
Summary: 30 snapshots showing a developing relationship
Just as Dean had suspected, Bobby had someone drop by to check on him. Dean didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would. Maybe because she didn’t try to make up a story about why she was there, but most likely it was because she brought him an apple pie. She had already sliced it into pieces and put them into those wedge shaped plastic containers so he wouldn’t have a problem while he was alone.
BBB (before being blind) Dean had scoffed when people would say that if you lost one of your senses that the others would be stronger. Not anymore. Touch hadn’t seemed to improve any, but hearing, taste and smell were going off the charts. It made a kind of sense; they had always been above average for him and Sam. Most hunters were the same way. He had noticed that his hearing had improved, and he was definitely better at tasting the various spices Bobby used when cooking, but hadn’t really noticed that his sense of smell had gotten better. He had become so accustomed to all of the smells in Bobby’s house, gun oil and the musty smell of old books being the strongest, that it had taken first Raphael and then Jody bringing new scents for him to notice the change.
Raphael had smelled like a thunderstorm, but then Cas had always brought that faint ozone scent whenever he had appeared, so that wasn’t exactly new. Dean had just been unprepared for how intense the scent had been. The same when Jody arrived. The aroma from the apple pie had been so strong that he had smelled it as soon as she opened the car door. Then later, just as she was leaving, she had stood next to him in the doorway and Dean had been almost overwhelmed by the earthy smell of ‘woman’.
Deodorant, the slight tang of sweat, a faint trace of perfume, and the natural musk of her normal body aroma, had swept over him triggering a primal response and his cock had started to harden. Luckily Jody hadn’t noticed anything and she had left before Dean made a fool of himself. Dean leaned against the door, panting slightly as he pressed his hand over his cock.
Christ, he really needed get control of himself. Yeah, he was planning to jerk off, but he wasn’t going to do it because the first woman he had been near in a month had stood next to him for a couple of minutes. Besides, she was a friend of Bobby’s. It would be disrespectful. Dean took a couple of deep breaths. “Down boy,” he said, giving himself a gentle pat. “We’ll have play time in a little bit.”
Dean listened closely as Jody’s car stopped at the highway, and then pulled away. He was alone again. He opened the door and stood on the porch for a few minutes, letting the breeze clear the kitchen of Jody’s scent. A strong gust almost pulled the door out of his hands. He should probably put on the weather channel to see if a storm was coming.
Dean closed the door and walked over to the table. He picked up one of the little cups with pills in it, went over to the sink and threw them down the drain. He hated how those things put him out so fast, and how they kept him under. As long as he was going to be alone, he wanted to be alert. He headed back to the living room, sat on the couch and felt for the remote. Just before he turned the television on, his phone rang. “Hey, Sam.”
“How did you know it was me?”
Dean huffed. “Please, who else would be calling to check up on me?”
Sam gave a little chuckle. “Could have been Bobby.”
“No, he’s probably on the phone with his friend Jody right now, seeing as how she just left here.”
“Like you didn’t know. Anyway, nice lady, she brought me an awesome apple pie. I’ll do my best to eat it all before you get home.”
“Jerk,” Sam chuckled.
“You better believe it, Bitch. How goes the hunt?”
“Did our preliminary research and we’re sure it vamps, just like Bobby’s friend thought. Arrogant s.o.b’s too. Hardly bothering to hide themselves at all, like they think they’re invincible. Thank God most of the people around here just think they are really rabid Twilight fans, or else there would be a mass panic. That and the fact that no one has been killed yet, which is strange. Maybe they’ve been getting blood from a blood bank.
Dean frowned. “You call me before you head out, and you call me as soon as you get back, you hear?”
Sam chuckled. “Yes, mother.”
“I mean it Sam. If I don’t hear from you I’ll start calling some of Bobby’s other contacts.”
“I’ll make you a deal: you stay safe and we’ll stay safe.”
“Talk to you later, Dean. Goodnight.”
Dean sat in silence for a few minutes. Sam and Bobby were both experienced hunters, they’d be fine. He turned his attention to the television. The commentators were talking about a storm moving across the state. Sounded like it would hit his area in a couple of hours. Dean turned the sound down until it was just a murmur in the background and reached down to unfasten his jeans. He pulled out his cock, leaned back into the cushions, and started to stroke it gently as he let the voices flow over him. Before he was aware, he drifted off to sleep.
He dreamed of hands moving over his body, of lips, hot and demanding, against his own. He kept trying to see who it was, but his eyes couldn’t open. The lips moved over his face and he felt them press against cloth over his eyes. A blindfold? It was like his subconscious was deliberately keeping him from seeing his dream lover.
Dean’s hands moved over the body that undulated against him, pressing him down. He clenched his hands on a firm ass, moved up over a smooth back, felt the play of muscles across broad shoulders. One hand slid up the neck, over a stubbly check and clenched in short curly hair. The body above him pressed down again and this time Dean could feel the hard length of another cock sliding against his. His partner was a man.
“Who,” Dean began, but the man took his mouth again, silencing him. That marvelous mouth left him gasping as it trailed down his body and engulfed his cock in heat.
Lighting struck right outside of Bobby’s house, the sound startling Dean awake. The smell of ozone was strong in the air, bringing a very familiar face to the forefront of his mind. Dean’s hips jerked and he came over his clenching hand. “Cas,” he moaned, “Oh, god, Cas!”
Dean lay panting for a few minutes, then he sat up in shock. Fuck! He had said Cas’ name when he came. That meant the Cas had heard him. He thought furiously, then cleared his throat.
“Um, hey Cas. Sorry about that. I fell asleep and I was dreaming about back when we were trying to rescue Adam. You know, when you did the kamikaze act? I was really worried about you then. So I guess my subconscious brought it up now, you know, since you are kinda in trouble. Well, like I said, sorry to bother you. I’ll try to keep my dreams to myself. Night, Cas.”
Dean sank back against the sofa cushions. His body still throbbed with his release; his hands still tingled with the phantom memory of his dream lover’s body.
Oh, fuck. He was so screwed.
Castiel was hungry.
Not physical hunger; his vessel didn’t require food. He was hungry for the sight of the open sky. For the feel of the wind in his hair. For the brush of another angel’s grace against his own. For the sight of another living being.
Castiel had been trapped for almost two months, a blink of time considering all that he had lived, yet it was beginning to feel like an eternity. And strangely enough it had gotten worse since Dean had started talking to him.
At first he had looked forward to the brief moments that Dean would speak before the medications had made him sleep, but lately he had resented the time that Dean spent with his brother and Bobby. Time that he spending interacting with the others, leaving Castiel in solitude. Castiel found himself wishing that Sam and Bobby would leave and allow Dean to talk freely.
Then suddenly, almost miraculously, it had happened and Castiel learned the meaning of the human phrase, ‘be careful what you wish for’. When Raphael had taunted him about how defenseless Dean had been, about how useless his threats were, he had lost control of himself for a time. He had also come to the realization that Dean meant much more to him than just a friend.
The remainder of that afternoon had passed too quickly, Dean telling jokes, bringing Castiel up to date on what was happening in the world by telling him what the television news commentators were saying. At one point he had gotten serious, opening up to Castiel in a way that he never had before, telling him the true difficulties he was having, and his real fears about his loss of vision.
After a while he had laughed self-consciously and said something about ‘chick flick moments’ and had made another joke. He teased Castiel again for the language he had used earlier, but never once did he express any doubts that he would find Castiel and get him out of the trap. In the middle of telling him something that Bobby had done, Dean had broken off abruptly; saying that someone was driving up to the house. Castiel waited anxiously for Dean to begin speaking again. Hours passed and he was starting to fear that something had happened to Dean when he heard, “Cas. Oh, god, Cas!”
Castiel stood up. “Dean, what is it, what’s wrong?” He pushed against the barrier. “Damn it! I am so fucking useless! Dean, answer me!”
He heard the sound of a throat clearing then Dean said, “Um, hey Cas. Sorry about that. I fell asleep and I was dreaming about back when we were trying to rescue Adam. You know, when you did the kamikaze act? I was really worried about you then. So I guess my subconscious brought it up now, you know, since you are kinda in trouble. Well, like I said, sorry to bother you. I’ll try to keep my dreams to myself. Night, Cas.”
Castiel sat back down, frowning. Something was wrong. Dean sounded nervous, almost afraid. But afraid of what? Humans couldn’t control their dreams. Did he think that Castiel would be offended that he had been dreaming about him? And while his explanation made sense, it didn’t really explain the tone of voice he had used during his first outburst. He hadn’t sounded worried or upset then, no, it had been something else, something that tickled at the edge of Castiel’s’ consciousness. He concentrated, focusing on the memory he was trying to pull from his mind. It hit him with a rush of heat.
Dean, in the shower, pleasuring himself.
It was after he had lost his grace, just a few days before the showdown in Stull cemetery. He had walked into the bathroom of the motel where they were staying, not really paying attention, and Dean had been in the shower.
Castiel has seen his silhouette through the curtain, one hand stroking his cock, the other hand braced against the shower wall. Dean was saying something, too soft for Castiel to hear over the running water, but he had heard the tone of Dean’s voice. A crooning, pleasure filled, groan. Castiel had left quietly and as far as he knew, Dean hadn’t known he had been observed.
That crooning sound, that had been the same tone that Dean had used a few minutes ago when he had called out ‘Cas’.
Castiel lay back on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. Dean was dreaming about him. Dreaming about him in a sexual way. He smiled, not the little quirk of his lips that Dean would recognize, but a full out grin. He and Dean were going to have a little talk once he was out of here, chick flick moment or not. He closed his eyes, summoning every memory of any time he had spent with Dean.
And Castiel felt hungry.