tiptoe39 | Pearl String of Fics: First Kisses In the Rain

AND THEN THEY WENT INSIDE AND DRIED OFF FOR A LONG LAZY RAINY THREESOME OK????????????

LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE.

:D thank you! I told myself, "Self, you will not write another" then myself said, "Self, this meme needs Good Omens, now shut up."

I have no idea where it came from but it seemed like a nice twist on the prompt. ;) thank you, glad you liked it! <3

glad you liked it, thank you! :D

Yay! Glad you guys liked it! :D

THIS WAS PERFECT!

I love how it's not actually raining, but a song about rain instead. It's unique and beautiful. And.. happy. I want them to be happy forever. Here, they are.

Loved it. so much.

Dude, this is divine. So short yet so.. profound, I think. Fantastic! <3

XDDD

LOVE THAT YOU LOVE IT. This made me feel genuinely happy to write- I've struggled with a minor writer's block lately, and haven't been able to write something small in ages. So thank you.

~~Also: yes. Absolutely. 8D~~

deleted scene. Don't tell Gaiman or Prachett i outed it

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! :3 This is adorable!

N'awwwwwwwwww. :3 They're adorable!

<3

... have not written fic for nearly 10 years. srsly nervous. but... whatever... (with hugs and smishes to

obstinatrix for the review, edit and encouragement... and the same to

tiptoe39 for ordering me to post it *g*)

Wendigos. Ghosts. Vampires. Demons. Douchebag angels with grand plans of an earthly apocalypse. Fucking Lucifer himself. He’s faced them all down at one point or another in his comparatively short life, but the killer of it all? The thing that is causing him the most angst, the most stress, the most heartache right now?

Rain.

Motherfucking, never-ending in an epically biblical 40 days and 40 nights fashion, goddamn rain.

Falling fucking water. Fucking water that has wiped out roads, raised rivers and washed out bridges. Bridges that joined them. Gaping spans that now separate them. He'd made a promise.

He's a Winchester. He keeps his promises.

He promised he'd be there. He promised he wouldn't let him face the end alone.

He's family. A sibling. A brother. His soul mate.

He promised he’d have his back, that he'd be there to fight beside him. To die beside him if necessary.

He promised himself it wouldn't be necessary.

And goddamn, motherfucking rain made him break his promise, has nearly broken him. Because in the lights of the car's headlights, dimmed to a dull glow by darkness and the goddamn motherfucking rain he can see him lying on the road, body twisted unnaturally, painfully, eyes starring but barely registering his arrival. He's out of the car, engine still running, door left ajar with no thought for the rain that will soak the interior of the thing he lovingly refers to as "his baby". He has no thought for anything, anyone, but the figure prone on the ground. He kneels beside him, scared to touch, scared to breathe in case he misses the merest sign of life.

The rain keeps falling, and an eternity passes before he reaches a hand out to touch.

Eyes look up and there is recognition, and he exhales at last. He sits on the ground, lifts the prone figure into his arms, holds him carefully, closely.

He feels a breath against his neck as the battered figure in his arms speaks at last.

"You came."

"Told you I would."

"You’re late."

"I know. Rain."

"Doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?"

"No. I won. I think."

He looks down, takes in the broken body, battered face.

"This is how winning looks?"

"Could be worse."

He starts to laugh but it turns into a sob as the stress of the last few hours reaches breaking point.

He pulls him closer, irrational fear of losing what he values more than his own life overriding any concern for the discomfort he may be causing. He rocks back and forth slightly, slowly, seeking comfort for them both in the touch, in the motion.

He feels movement, the body in his arms shifting slightly, feels an arm reach up, a hand brush against his cheek. He looks down and their eyes meet, hold, their faces close, almost touching. Wet lips brush against his own, the briefest touch, a searing touch, before they pull back. Eyes search his face, seeking response.

He runs his fingertips over his own lips, trying to capture the sensation of the kiss, to measure the change that one kiss has made. He can't feel it on his lips, on his fingertips, but he can feel it within. He smiles.

"Yeah, it could be worse."

The smile is returned.

"I'll be okay."

"I know you will. We both will."

And he believes it.

He holds him close again, and feels hands hold him tight in return.

Moments pass, seconds, minutes, hours. He doesn't know. He doesn't care. He doesn't want to be the one to break the spell. He can feel the cold ground beneath him soaking his jeans, his underwear, to the point he's lost all feeling in his ass. He can feel the rain pelting down, water running down his neck, under his shirt.

But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters but this moment.

Because he's here. He's alive. He's... he's himself again. And they've won. The future lies before them. And nothing else matters.

"Dean, it's raining."

He looks down again and his eyes meet those whose color he can't see but which he knows are the deepest blue he's ever seen. That he will see again.

He smiles.

"Is it? I hadn't noticed."

Edited 2011-09-08 15:49 (UTC)

He hears the voice the fifth time he surfaces, spluttering, heaving in great lungfuls of air into shriveled lungs, his sinuses exploding from the water he inhaled as he dove frantically into the dark, and his eyes stinging from trying to see through the murk.

“What are you doing in there, Dean?”

He thinks he might cry out as he swivels his head, sees Castiel standing up there on the shore, his head tilted and his brows tenting quizzically. He motions his head to the dark, sleek bulk of the caddy, beached half in and half out of the lake. “I see you managed.”

The water is freezing, and Dean can hear his teeth start to click out a percussion as he swims in place. “You’re alright,” he stutters. “Fuck. You’re alright.”

Castiel frowns. “Of course I’m alright,” he offers matter-of-factly. “I know my limitations as a human. I hid behind a tree.” He nods sagely. “Perhaps you should have.”

Fast silver arrows of rain start plopping into the water around Dean. “Perhaps I should have…?” he echoes. He feels all breathless, crushed and tight in his chest, and he tells himself it’s because he nearly drowned while he searched.

Castiel hugs himself as he regards Dean, glances up as thunder sounds and lightning flashes. “Have you finished your swim?” he inquires politely. “Only I’m getting wet.”

Dean stares balefully back at him, and fuck it if he doesn’t see the trace of a smile playing around Castiel’s mouth. He dog paddles into find his depth, wades up to the bank and reaches up. “Some help?” he snaps.

Castiel bends, extends a winter-cold hand, and Dean grabs a hold of it and pulls with all his might, hopping out of the way as nimbly as he can weighed down as he is by clothing. Castiel surges clumsily up from under the water, arms windmilling, and Dean slaps his palm down on top of his head, dunks him under again for good measure. “Have you finished your swim?” he grudges out as his friend surfaces again.

Castiel is breathing fast, his hair plastered thickly to his brow, and the moonlight catches his eyes, huge in his too-pale face. He blinks as water splashes down harder from above.

“Raindrops keep falling on your head,” Dean says stupidly, and he doesn’t even think, he shuffles right up there, clamps his hand around the back of Castiel’s skull, angles him just so and leans in.

There’s a second when he stops, when all he can see is Nebraska-sky blue gazing back at him, and he wonders if he might be giving Castiel a choice. And his friend’s eyelashes flutter, black crescents folding down, and then Castiel’s hand is on Dean’s face, his thumb sliding gentle through the moisture slicking Dean’s cheekbone. He closes the millimeter of distance and Dean sinks into the kiss, a deliberate, hypnotic brush of lips on his, back and forth, up, down and around, soft and light and warm, and so damn slow as Castiel molds their mouths together, sucking Dean’s lower lip in and grazing it just barely with his teeth. It isn’t even really erotic, Dean thinks in some part of his brain, even if it’s lighting a fuse and sparking across his synapses like wildfire. It’s reverent, tender, like it means something.

And then it’s gone and there’s only the cold outside and the heat inside, and Castiel looking at him the way he always does, like he’s absorbing Dean, only now Dean can see the shy yearning there.

Castiel tilts his head and his voice is hesitant, almost a whisper. “What now, Dean?”

Edited 2011-09-08 16:37 (UTC)

Oh. I'm broken now. You broke me. ;_;

My writing wants to be your writing when it grows up. God, your imagery. I just. fjaklfjaklfjl;f. Marry me.

This is so truly awesome :DDDD

I'm yours… we'll get married in Vegas by an Elvis lookalike. XD

pfft. LOOK AT ALL THE KISSING! Yay!

Of course. *snuggles*

WOO HOO!

Love them all!

THANK YOU! *clings*

This is less than 500 words and totally a team effort. Inspired by

annundriel, rain problem solved by

squeemonster, checked over by both

perfumaniac and

_mournthewicked. All you ladies are awesome. As is

tiptoe39

: : :

It's the skin of Castiel's back, Dean thinks, that makes him crack. Castiel is crouched over the bottom shelf, his too-small t-shirt riding up to reveal smooth skin and the curve of his spine. Dean's hand twitches against his leg, itching to map it all; to fit his fingers over the sharp spurs of Castiel's hips, press his lips to the knobs in Castiel's spine and work his way down, down.

Before Dean can reach out Castiel stands and turns, is suddenly much closer than he should be, and Dean realizes he's no longer leaning against the bookshelf behind him. He's a breath's space away from Castiel, his body heat seeping through the layers of Dean's clothes. Castiel's head tips back and his eyes widen behind his dorky, thick-rimmed glasses, and Dean can't stop staring at his mouth. The way it wraps around Dean's name, the slick tongue that darts out to lick his lips.

Dean cups Castiel's face in one warm palm, gaze bouncing between bright blue eyes and shiny pink lips, and leans in. He keeps the kiss simple at first, a damp cling of lips that doesn't last nearly long enough; pulls back a little to make sure Castiel isn't panicking, then does it again, a little firmer this time. Drags his tongue over the seam of Castiel's mouth and he can taste mint of Cas' toothpaste and the strawberry milkshake he'd sucked down in the school cafeteria after lunch.

Castiel sighs and suddenly goes pliant, his body comfortable and perfect in Dean's arms. His hand slides from Castiel's face to the back of his head and his fingers sift through wild, silky soft hair. His other hand splays flat against the small of Castiel's back, slipping underneath the t-shirt to skim along his spine. Dimly, Dean registers ten pin-pricks of pressure on his biceps; Castiel's hands clinging for support. He grins and pulls away again, proud of the dazed look in Castiel's eyes.

"Dean." Castiel says again, a sigh this time, his lips curving into a shy smile of his own. Before he can say anything more, he's wet. He's wet and Dean's wet and there are alarms blaring and the librarian is shouting. Castiel looks up. "Looks like somebody set the sprinklers off.”

And then he's soaked, and Dean is soaked and alarms are blaring and the librarian is yelling. "Somebody set the sprinklers off."

"My bad," Dean says with a wink.

"We should probably go," Castiel says, resting his thumb against the corner of Dean's mouth. He gasps when Dean's tongue brushes against it

"Yeah, probably." But Dean just leans in again, slots their mouths together, and starts learning the secrets of Castiel's mouth.

and somehow after this i am supposed to go back to reading about a joint debt commission thing. fjekla;jfklj;l. not possible. :D

apropos of nothing i once wrote a matt/mo librarysex fic called in the stacks. XD XD XD long time ago. this is better.

LOVE!

HOT LIKE FIIIYAAAAA *fans self*

Pearl String of Fics: First Kisses In the Rain

Re: Hm.... Dean/Castiel, Sam/Castiel, idek

Re: Crowley/Aziraphale

Re: dean/cas, supposed to be set after 6x22, 2/2

Re: dean/cas, supposed to be set after 6x22, 2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

Re: Hm.... Dean/Castiel, Sam/Castiel, idek

Re: Crowley/Aziraphale

no subject

Re: Crowley/Aziraphale

Re: Crowley/Aziraphale

um... so this popped in my head...

D/C First kiss in the rain...

no subject

Re: D/C First kiss in the rain...

Re: um... so this popped in my head...

Re: D/C First kiss in the rain...

no subject

no subject

Re: my turn 2/2

Re: my turn 2/2

In the Stacks; Dean/Cas, PG (a hs!AU)

Re: In the Stacks; Dean/Cas, PG (a hs!AU)

Re: In the Stacks; Dean/Cas, PG (a hs!AU)