tiptoe39 | [fanfic] The Closet Door (Dean/Cas, Sam/Gabe, PG-13)

This is utter fluff, so I share it unbeta'd and unapologetic! I promise to get back to Good Big Deep Writing soon...

Title: The Closet Door
Author:

tiptoe39
Pairings: Dean/Cas, Sam/Gabe
Rating: PG-13 for some maekowtz
Summary: From a prompt at

spnkink_meme - Gabriel locks Dean and Cas in a closet until they figure out what's going on between them... meanwhile, he has some confessions of his own to make. Hope you like it, anon!

The front door of the abandoned home blew off its hinges with a puff of dust. Castiel withdrew his hand and rushed in, Dean and his shotgun right behind. "It's in here," Castiel muttered.

The cell phone chirped. "Is it time?"

"It's time," Dean said. "Do it."

A few garbled Latin words came through the phone's receiver. A flare of light momentarily turned the dark room green. Insects scurried across the wood.

"All right," Sam's voice was measured, quick. "The demons should be trapped. I can't come after you, so don't screw up."

"Love your faith in me, Sammy," Dean grunted as he shouldered another door open with a push. "Damn, the doors in this house are so sticky."

"Dean." Castiel nudged his head toward a closet at the far corner of the room. "Here."

Dean turned. The closet door was rattling.

"We got us a boggart in the closet," Dean said with a grin. "Let's go Bogart that boggart."

"Dude. Ouch." Sam's voice was pained.

"Everyone's a critic," Dean muttered. He pulled the door open and stepped through.

The closet was full of nothing but dust. Dean turned around in time to hear the door slam and see Castiel standing against it, looking stunned. "What are you doing?" Castiel said.

"What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm staring at a blank wall."

"You didn't answer me."

"Answer you, what the hell are you talking about and why did you come in after me?"

"Dean, you went in and didn't come out. I knocked several times and called your name, but..."

"Cas. Wait." Dean put on his best placating look. "I just walked in. Two seconds ago."

"No, it's been four minutes." Castiel looked unnerved. "Something's playing with time."

"Great. Just what we need." Dean pushed past him to the door. "Let's find a less claustrophobic place to..."

The knob wouldn't turn. Dean shoved his shoulder against the wood. Nothing. He shouldered his shotgun and blew a few rounds into it. Not even a splinter.

He ran his hand against the still-smooth surface. "What the hell?"

Castiel said what Dean didn't want to admit. "We're trapped."

Sam was starting to get antsy. It had been a good ten minutes since Dean and Cas had entered the house and Sam had laid the trap. He hated having to wait outside, but this new breed of demon required a blood spell to box them in, which meant Sam, with his demon blood, couldn't breach the barrier. His whole body ached to break the spell, scratch out a portion of the circle and go in after them. But he did that and the demon would escape. So Sam waited.

Usually he could hear the sounds of a struggle from within the house. Tonight was so silent it spooked him. Had they been knocked out cold? Were they even still in there? Sam paced in front of the house, staring at the ground, utterly useless.

Until he realized he'd just walked over his own line.

The spell had been broken. Someone had already destroyed the magic circle.

Well, screw that, then. Sam grabbed his gun and stormed in.

"It's clearly some sort of binding magic," Castiel said. "I recognize the residue of some astral seals."

"The demon did this?"

"No." He turned back to face Dean. "Whoever wove this spell is powerful. As powerful as I am, if not more so."

"So what are you thinking? Big-cheese demon? Archangel?"

"More likely an archangel, yes. What puzzles me is why."

"An archangel could have trapped us anywhere," Dean said, nodding. There wasn't enough space in the cramped closet to pace, so he tapped his foot against the ground instead, like he was hearing an invisible beat. "Why here? Why go so far to drag us in here and mess around with time until we were both inside?"

"I don't know." Castiel shook his head. "There's something odd about this spell, though. It's only broken by an action. We have to do something, or the door will never open."

"Do something? What?"

A shrug and another shake of the head from Castiel.

Dean settled against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. "Well, we'd better put on our thinking caps and figure it out," he said. "Because I'm going to get out of this broken-down old wreck of a house and take a damn shower before the end of the night."

Pastels. A plastic countertop. Fresh flowers on the dinner table. It was an eerie mirror of a certain television-show set Sam had seen once before and didn't much like to think about. Outside, the sun shone, even though it had been night when Sam entered the house. And, wearing a white apron and peeling a potato, was the reason why.

"Welcome home, honey," Gabriel said in a sweet voice. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

"You?" Sam's jaw went slack.

"Come on. I do have a name. Now that you know it, you might as well use it."

"What have you done with Dean and Cas?"

"Oh, they're in there." Gabriel pointed briefly to a nearby door and then ran the garbage disposal at the sink. It churned a loud chugging noise as Sam flew to the door and pulled at it in vain.

Gabriel flipped the switch off. "You can't get them out," he said. "Only they can do that. In the meantime, potato salad? Mashed potatoes? Baked potatoes? French fries? What's your pleasure?"

Sam rapped on the door. "Dean?" he hollered. "Dean!"

"They can't hear you," Gabriel said, clucking his tongue in irritation. "And even if they could, it wouldn't do you any good."

"Fine. Fine." Sam breathed hard as he paced away from the door. "So tell me. Gabriel. How do I get them out?"

"I just told you, you don't." Gabriel gave him a sunny smile. "They do. Potato salad it is, then!"

"Cas."

It was the first word spoken in several minutes. Dean had been studiously trying to stare at the floor, but it was getting hard to do. "Dude. It creeps me out when you stare at me like that."

And by like that, Dean meant constantly, barely even blinking. Cas didn't seem to care how long he looked. It made Dean feel like a parade of hamsters was using him as a wheel. He got lumps of cold and hot all up his spine. And at this close range, Dean was fairly sure Cas probably had heat vision.

"I'm not staring." Oh, he was going to try and deny it? This was rich.

"You're totally staring. Like this." Dean pushed his jaw forward and went into his best Cas impression. His eyes locked with Cas' and they stared at each other.

And stared and stared. After a good minute and a half, Dean broke away, rubbing his eyes. "Ow. See how creepy that is?"

Castiel's nose just barely wrinkled. "No."

"How can I put this?" Dean looked up at the ceiling of the tiny closet. "You're looking at me like you're checking me out, man. Like you're going to come over here and..."

He broke off. "Aw, no."

"Let me try this again," Sam said, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "What is it that Dean and Castiel need to do to get free?"

"They need to get free," Gabriel parroted.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Sam's hands came down on the table. The frosted blue bowl of potato salad jumped. Gabriel reached in and grabbed a chunk of potato, popping it in his mouth with white-smeared fingers.

"The answer," he said, "is in the question, Sammy-boy."

"Yeah, you said that. It's not computing."

"Maybe you should sit down and have a snack. You might think better on a full stomach."

"Maybe you should give me a straight answer."

At this, Gabriel cackled. "I'd love to, really. But there isn't one. Not in this case."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You've given yourself all the clues," Gabriel said, taking another bit of potato salad. "I like this recipe. It's not often I'm in the mood for salty instead of sweet, but lately I'm just feeling it. Oh, that's another clue, too, isn't it? An off-color one, but still."

"I've given myself all the clues." Sam turned around, got annoying archangels out of his line of vision, and mumbled to himself. "The answer is in the question. So I asked a question, what do they need to do before they can come out? And there's no straight answer... salty?"

A thought occurred to him then, and potato salad officially became the most disgusting thing in the world. He whirled. "What room is that? Behind the door."

Gabriel's smile grew wide. "It's not a room. It's a closet."

"Tell me that is not what I think it is."

For the first time, Castiel's gaze dropped. "It's a common physical reaction."

"I know what it is, dumbass. Tell me why you have it. You're thinking of some girl, right? One of the girly angels you hung out with. An old flame."

"I'm not thinking of anyone." The eyes that wouldn't leave his face now couldn't stay there, and Castiel looked as shifty and nervous as a stool pigeon under the white lights.

"Sure you are. It's cool, man. We're locked in tight, and you're looking at me and seeing someone else. Right?" He was fooling himself at this point, and despite his consciousness screaming at him to give up the ghost, Dean couldn't quite stop fighting. "Just tell me, man."

"Dean."

"Was it that girl back in Omaha? You liked her, man. I could tell. Can't blame you."

"Dean."

"Or maybe the chick up near Lake Michigan? Dude, I'm sorry you walked in on us, but let's face it, you don't tend to knock--"

"Dean."

A hand grabbed his. Dean froze.

The intense gaze had returned. Castiel opened his mouth to speak and paused there, on the edge of words, for a breathless second. Dean swallowed hard.

"I have only ever looked at you."

"Oh, come on, it's brilliant!" Gabriel was back in self-satisfied brag mode, laughing brashly and fixing bright bird's eyes on Sam. "They can't come out of the closet until they come out of the closet. Even you have to admit, it's a stroke of genius."

Sam's head hurt. "So you're trying to get Dean... and Cas?" He gave a shaky laugh. "You're crazy. They'll never."

"You have to have seen it." Gabriel put his hands on his hips and stared Sam down. "They can't stop looking at each other. It's disgusting."

"Well, I can't deny there's some chemistry there, but..." Sam shook himself free of that tangent. "Why the hell do you care, anyway? I mean, this isn't exactly your M.O. You only mess with us when you've got a point to make. This isn't out of the goodness of your heart."

"Very perceptive of you, Spammy," Gabriel said. His smile disappeared. "You're absolutely right. This isn't what I usually get up to. And that, young man, is entirely your fault."

"Wait. Just... just wait a second."

Dean would have backed up if there'd been any place to back up to, but he was pressed against the wall as it was. Castiel wouldn't let go of his hand. "You're talking about you. And me."

"You're surprised." A frown, a perplexed one. "But you have to have known. I told you I'd done everything for you."

"Yeah, but.. but wasn't that some sort of wanting to be human thing?" The way Castiel's lip curled, made Dean feel more than a little insulted. "All right, not human, but.. I thought you didn't feel stuff like that."

"I said I'd never had occasion." There was some frustration in Cas' face now, the set of his jaw starting to waver in the face of Dean's taken-aback expression. "Didn't you ever wonder why, when you took me to that place, I couldn't..."

"No," Dean interrupted firmly, but the tone was hollow.

"You did." Castiel pressed closer. Dean could see his pores, see each individual hair that lined his chin.

"Yeah, but I thought it was because you couldn't. Cas. You're really close to me right now, you know?"

"I find it hard to be away from you."

His hips brushed Dean's. Dean swore under his breath. When Cas drew back in surprise, round eyes searching for confirmation, Dean knew the game was up.

"My fault?"

"That's right. I'm sick of waiting, Sam. I'm tired of you being so unbelievably dense."

"I don't understand."

"Yeah, that's kind of the problem, isn't it? Haven't you ever wondered why I spent all that time and energy on you? All those months. Do you think I liked torturing you? It was the only way I could think to get your attention, dumbass."

"Get my attention? For what?"

"You still don't get it? Jesus, Samuel, you're going to make me say it, aren't you?" He rolled his eyes, and in that simple motion they went flame-bright. All at once Sam looked at him and saw not the controlling prankster but the desperate angel. The world was going dark around him, the pastels of the kitchen fading to faint daubs of color in a blur of illusion and reality.

Sam was quaking, honestly frightened. "I... I really don't understand. What do you want me for?"

The remainder of the phantom landscape dissipated, and Sam was standing once again in an abandoned house. Gabriel was there in the dark with him, small and close. He let out a shaky breath. "I just want you," he said.

Cas gave him the easy way out. "Now you are thinking about a girl."

"I'm not. I mean, yeah, I am." Castiel gave him no answer, just a piercing look, and Dean withered. "Look, I told you, you're really, really close, and now you're talking about..."

And then he shut up fast, because Cas' hand had just landed on his waist and was radiating an avalanche of warmth into his stomach. His other hand was still tangled with Dean's. His eyes were a vise, and Dean was locked into them despite his best efforts. "Jesus," he murmured. "I counted on this never happening."

"It's happening." Castiel was always good at stating the obvious.

"I know." Dean's free hand was moving now, brushing against Castiel's upper arm, his shoulder. He swallowed the lump of fear lying high in his throat. "God save me, but I know."

Fingertips brushed the small dark bristles of stubble. Now Castiel was the one that swallowed. Dean watched his lips press together lightly, then fall parted again to let out short breaths. His own lips itched, and he licked them quickly.

"Oh, God," Castiel whispered.

That was as much as Dean could take. His fingers braced, then pulled, and with a murmur that could have been a prayer he pressed his lips to Castiel's open mouth.

"You want me."

Gabriel nodded firmly. "That's what I said."

"You. Want me." Sam pointed toward the door. "Like you think they want--"

"Exactly like that."

Sam laughed. "That's rich."

"Is it?" Gabriel sighed and shrugged. "I guess it is, at that."

"Yeah, it is." Sam tried hard to scoff, but it didn't work. His brows pinched together. "...Why me?"

For a moment he thought Gabriel wasn't going to answer at all. The dusty house sat in a hush.

"Because you have only ever tried to do the right thing, and you've gotten nothing but pain for it." Gabriel began slowly, hesitantly, but power and momentum surged through his words as he went on. "Because you wanted to be your own man but you didn't want to hurt anyone. Because everyone in your life has died or left you, and because you are the one man on earth that makes me want to say I'm sorry."

Sam had looked up halfway through. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he asked that question, but it sure as hell hadn't been that. Now he was at a loss, his arms useless by his side, his eyes boring into Gabriel's as the angel walked up to him.

"I know," Gabriel said, reaching up to touch Sam's hair. Just one caress, feather-light. "I can't just say sorry. A world of sorries would never be enough." His smile was small and sad. "But... sorry, anyway."

He turned and paced away. Something inside Sam crumbled to a thousand pieces.

He was moving before he knew it, catching up to Gabriel, putting a hand on his shoulder. What was he doing? He had no clue, but it had something to do with seeing Gabriel give this much, seeing a desire to undo the mistakes of the past and find some way to go on with life, and Sam knew that desire far too well. And all at once he wanted to give Gabriel the same.

Gabriel seized up at the touch and stopped moving.

"You're right," Sam said. "You can't just say sorry."

He pulled Gabriel around to face him.

"But it's a good start."

Dean pushed Castiel against the wall. He could feel the powerful working of the angel's jaw through his outstretched hand, laid taut against Cas' cheek, and he could taste the tart, eager sweeps of tongue against his. Castiel could drive him crazy the way he kissed, and Dean was pretty far over the crazy line now, his body pressed against Cas' and his mouth so eager he could barely stop to let out a fevered groan. His legs were wobbling.

Castiel was breathing though his nose, small puffs against Dean's upper lip. His eyes were closed in rapture; Dean's stayed open, just barely, just enough to confirm that this was really happening, Castiel was really here with him. Despite the immediacy and the realness of the touch, Dean was kind of afraid that he might close his eyes and lose it all in an instant.

He pulled Cas upright, leaned back himself against the wall and tugged Cas close. "Oh, geez." The words came out with a gasp. He panted, his lips nibbling Cas' eagerly.

Cas was trying to speak through the blizzard of kisses. "Dean. This feels--"

"Unbelievable. I know." His hands were sliding down and around Cas' back. The sharp sounds of their breathing echoed against the walls. "It feels amazing."

Cas sucked on Dean's bottom lip, long and hard enough to make him cry out. "I want more."

"Me, too." Dean couldn't stay in one position for long. Now he was pushing Cas back again, slamming him against the door. He chuckled. "I guess while we're trapped in here we might as well--"

And that's when the door slid right open.

Castiel fell to his knees. Dean stumbled forward into the room, very nearly trampling Cas in the process. When he looked up, he found himself face to face with Sam-- and the one angel he should have suspected all along was behind this.

Gabriel burst into applause. "Well done, boys!" he said. "I knew you'd figure it out if you were stuck in there long enough. Sammy, I think you should probably get your own motel room tonight, if you know what I mean." All sly jokester again, he elbowed Sam hard in the ribs.

"You..." Dean was about ready to throw a punch. But Castiel was quickly on his feet to hold him back, and Dean shifted his focus to Sam. "And what are you doing in here?"

"Getting my eyes bleached," Sam said, turning away. That's when Dean realized his neck was coated with bite marks and his fly was unbuttoned. He yelped and jumped to correct the situation, rubbing the hickeys away as best he could. Blood was rushing to his face.

Castiel had his own brother to eye suspiciously. "You intended for us to--"

"You can thank me for it later," Gabriel said. "No, you know what, don't thank me. It's my privilege to serve. Have a good life, you all." He raised a hand to wave goodbye and began to turn on his heel.

He didn't make it very far.

"Our turn," Sam said with a wicked grin. And without a word, he dragged Gabriel across the floor and into the closet.

THE END

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