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September drabble dump, other SPN pairings edition
Two for the Price of One
This should definitely be upsetting him. It's weird enough seeing a Castiel with a dumbass grin and sparkling bright eyes. The regular Castiel's dumbfounded expression pretty much covers Dean in that department. But then the lookalike says something along the lines of "I always did want to fuck myself" and lobs a wink at Dean, and somehow all of the distress of the situation is gone, replaced with what can only be termed morbid curiosity.
Morbid curiosity, and a tightness in his pants as the fake Castiel pulls the real Castiel's trench coat off, slides a hand under his collar, and kisses his neck. And Castiel makes a sound, hoo boy a sound Dean has never heard him make before. He's not sure Cas isn't in pain, but the fake Cas gives him a dangerous look. "I know what turns me on," he murmurs, and continues to slide his tongue up and down the side of Castiel's neck, from the crux where it meets his shoulder to just beneath his ear.
Dean's fascinated with the goosebumps that are starting to prickle on Castiel's arms, with the way his shoulders start twitching. He moves closer not knowing why, murmuring "Get off him" but not really meaning it. Castiel's eyes have closed, and he's leaning into the stranger's touch, arching back against him when the not-Castiel's hand comes around his waist and tightens on the flat of his stomach. Dean glances down to see it and sees what's below it too.
Castiel's eyes flutter open. "Dean," he moans, and his hands reach out. But when Dean takes them, presumably to pull him loose, Castiel yanks him close instead.
The scent of two Castiels is too much for him to handle. Dean's lips burn with want. He's never had a fantasy or a wet dream that left him feeling quite this way. It's paralysis and fascination and dread all in one, and the little part of him that shouts Stupid! Stupid! is fading far away.
He's happy it's the real Castiel's lips that brush his first, but he accepts a kiss from the false one, too. They taste different, though they look the same, and Dean wants to lay them out side by side and examine each inch of their bodies, find out where the differences lie. Dean growls into the false Castiel's mouth. The smile that curves beneath his lips tells him he's about to get his chance.
David
The good thing was, Dean actually never asked Castiel point blank whether he was a virgin. What he asked was, "You have been with a woman before, right? Or an angel?"
Castiel didn't have to lie to say no to that. He had never been with either.
But the young, stocky man from Jerusalem, the one he'd encountered in the field on the way up through the farm country... Dean never asked about him.
Castiel had run into him a year ago, when he was just starting to experience emotions. When what he felt for Dean was as unfamiliar as it was confusing. The man's name was David, and he spoke in a gloriously rich Hebrew, guiding Castiel to the sacred spring where holy oil could be found pooling below the rock.
"Who is she?" David had asked in a soft voice.
"Who is who?" Even David, with his keen eyes, misunderstood. Not that Castiel himself really understood.
"Who are you gathering the oil for?" David shifted, shoulders sliding in an impeccable arc, scooping up a vial of the golden stuff.
"For... a righteous man," Castiel said, because that was the one thing he knew for sure.
David didn't grin, not the way Dean did; he smiled softly and touched Castiel's face with a soft, damp finger. Oil glistened and shimmered on Castiel's skin. "Is he beautiful?"
"I... don't know if I would use that word." Castiel's eyes darted to earth, then met David's. They were glowing. The gentle smile was enticing him to go on.
"You are beautiful," he heard himself say.
It was once, and it was like singing, like drawing breath in a human form. Castiel thought of him, wondered if he'd see him, when he returned to Jerusalem to mine the holy oil for Raphael's trap. He didn't, but David's soft voice, the velvet touch of his skin, were skimming near the surface of his mind. And so when Dean said what he said, Castiel was flustered, and nervous. But Dean never asked the question. And Castiel never had to lie.
Smile
It's Gabriel's self-appointed task to teach Castiel how to smile. That's the one thing he barely ever sees out of his earthbound brother. He's seen irritation, fear, nerves, even a drunken stupor or two, but never a smile. Not once. That worries him. What's the point of hanging out on Earth if there's nothing here you enjoy?
Gabriel goes of course for the one thing he enjoys best, and that's sugar. But Castiel's not the light-fluffy-confection type, that is painfully clear the minute he grimaces around a colorful mouthful of M&Ms and then complains of a toothache for a month on end after a single Butterfinger. So Gabriel has to think dark. Dark chocolate. Of course.
Castiel looks at him warily, tries to protest that he's really not interested, but Gabriel dips his finger in the fondue and beckons to Castiel with it, until, with a dissatisfied grumble, Mr. Humorless snakes out a soft pink tongue and licks a stripe of the goo off Gabriel's skin.
His eyebrows nearly go through his hairline.
Chuckling, Gabriel chalks up a moderate success. He pulls back to lick the rest of the chocolate from his own finger, but he only gets halfway there before Castiel's seizing his hand, sucking hard on his finger. Gabriel sputters, laughs, and then moans a little bit as Castiel's eager lips lap up the sweet stuff.
"That I like," Castiel informs him, voice rough, still not smiling.
Gabriel can't quite stop looking at him like this, and he dips his finger again in the chocolate fountain. This time it splashes against his face, spattering on his chin and mouth. Castiel watches it ravenously even as he sucks up another fingerful of chocolate from Gabriel's hand, leaving it spit-slick and glistening. Gabriel's eyes slide closed as he feels hot breath on his face.
He can barely breathe as stubble slides across his chin, as wet tongue and lips taste his chin, then his mouth. But what's only half a kiss becomes a full kiss as sweet-tinged tongue dives into his mouth, strokes his own tongue, as Castiel shares the sweet richness of the flavor on his breath and nibbles it back off the fullness of Gabriel's bottom lip.
It's a full minute before Gabriel remembers to open his eyes again. But it's worth it when he does, because chocolate-covered kisses did the trick.
Castiel's smiling at him.
Five Steps to Falling in Love With the Guy Who's Stalking Your Brother (While You Stalk Your Brother)
Step 1: Meet.
Sam doesn't go back often. But he does go back. He watches through the window. And it hurts, to watch Dean so honestly happy and so obviously not missing his old life. Sam's jealous. Sam's left out in the cold.
Sam's not alone out here.
His eyes lift to see Castiel watching just to his left. "The hell?" he whispers, and shifty eyes meet his own just before Castiel shushes him and flutters into nothing.
Step 2: Meet again and again.
The next few times, Castiel either disappears immediately, or Sam only knows he's there when he feels eyes on him and then a gust of wind. But after that, there's an understanding.
"He has no idea what he's in for," says Castiel. The first words spoken between them.
Sam chuckles. "I'll say. He had enough trouble getting me through puberty."
Castiel frowns. "His family will be made a target of. It's inevitable."
OK, so they're not exactly doing the same kind of stalking. But it's close enough.
Step 3: Start to meet when you're not mid-stalk.
Castiel shows up in a coffee shop three towns over from Cicero. "You're going to go see him again," he says.
Sam pours skim milk all over the table. "So what?"
"You're defensive." Cas sits, and his mouth is a thin-pressed line. He looks like he has bags under his eyes. "There's no need."
"Yeah, well..." Fumbling for the napkins, Sam can feel a blush breaking out. "Maybe there is. You can't tell me you've been stalking him just to protect him from demons."
"Why else would I be stalking him?" Cas does the head-tilt. Sam's always kind of liked the head-tilt. Wait, what the hell is that about?
"Same reason I am, dude. You're worried about him. And you can't let go." Sam sighs and takes a sip of too-milky coffee. "Dean's got his own life. That's a good thing. You should let him live it."
"In that case, why don't you?"
"It's different. I'm his brother."
"...I see." But Sam thinks Castiel doesn't. And he also thinks maybe he doesn't understand his own logic.
Step 4: Start to realize you care more about him right now than the guy you're stalking.
The conversation doesn't stop Castiel watching Dean, though, nor does it stop Sam worrying.
Castiel is acting on some sort of misguided protectiveness. He thinks he is providing Dean a clandestine bodyguard service, but it's not Dean's needs he's meeting by staying around, it's his own. Castiel misses Dean. He should just admit it.
And maybe that means Sam should admit it to himself. He does miss Dean. But more than that, he's jealous of Dean's happiness. He wants that for himself, wants the feeling of being protective of someone, wants to fulfill someone emotionally. Wants someone to look at him the way Lisa looks at Dean, wants to know that because of him someone else's life is better.
He supposes he should thank Cas for that revelation.
And then it hits him: In that case, isn't it true that because of Cas, his life is better?
And isn't it true that Cas is the one he wants to protect from pain and disappointment, wants to see emotionally fulfilled?
And when was the last time he thought about Dean from the prism of his own wants, rather than worrying about what Cas wants?
Step 5: Make your own choice.
The next time Sam shows up outside Dean's house, it's Ben's birthday. Ben spits all over the cake and can't put out a single candle, and the uproarious laughter brings a tear to Sam's eye.
Dean's happy. Thank God.
He hears the rustle of leaves and sees Castiel looking down, his face a grimace of emotional pain he has neglected to hide.
Sam catches his wrist.
Wide eyes are up and on his and Sam sees the jealousy, the need for closeness much clearer than he has ever seen before. He pulls Castiel into an embrace, warm body against his own, and he hears the shell of a whimper against his shirt.
"It's OK," he whispers. "It's OK. I'm here for you."
Castiel isn't ready to return the hug, not yet. But he does accept it, falling limp into Sam's arms, fighting back tears.
Sam kisses the top of his head. "Come on," he whispers, "let's go."
Castiel pauses for one taut second. Then he nods.
It's not a turning point, not quite. But it's a beginning.
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My favorite, though, is the one with the chocolate kisses. I'm on a serious Gabriel kick right now, and I have been for about two months. :)
You've got such a brilliant grasp on these characters, and you have the ability to make every little plot and story arc you write completely and utterly convincing. I won't lie, I'm more than a bit jealous. I love reading these drabble dumps, and I'm really looking forward to the next one.
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