Fic: "Bare."
Title: Bare
Fandom: Supernatural
Character(s)/Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Prompt: lover100 prompt 006. Uniform
Word Count: 616
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine!
-Author Notes: This was inspired by something I read somewhere, but I have no idea what. For the life of my I can't remember what I was reading that made me think "Oh! Now I have to write a Dean x Cas fic." To be fair, most things make me want to write Dean x Cas fic, so. Also this maybe takes place in s7 but I was perhaps a bit too ~vague in that respect.
“No,” Dean says, gripping the hard edge of Castiel’s jaw. “You don’t get to talk.”
Cas blinks, then swallows, but he doesn’t speak.
Dean tightens his grip for a second and then lets go, hand falling away from Cas’ face, hanging down by his side. He stares at Cas, mouth in a tight, grim line, his whole body rigid with tension. There’s so much he wants to say, so much pushing up his throat, clawing at his lips and weighing his tongue down rough and heavy with confessions he doesn’t want to give. Cas might be human now; Dean isn’t sure. He’s not sure what he is or how he got back - he just knows Cas looks the same as he always did, minus the trenchcoat, and even that is painful. Even looking at the bastard sends anger racing anew up the length of Dean’s spine, through the breadth of his mind. He clenches his jaw, lets it jut out in hard defiance.
Whatever he is, whether he’s man or angel, he’s still Cas - though Dean’s not sure that even means anything anymore.
Before he even realizes they’re moving, his hands grab two fistfuls of Cas’ tie. Dean tugs hard and Cas stumbles forward. “Don’t move,” Dean commands. His voice comes out softer than he wanted and he clears his throat, tugs again, tries to keep himself under control. He lets go with one hand and sets it on Cas’ shoulder.
Dean doesn’t know what he’s doing - and it’s clear Cas doesn’t know, either, his eyes gone soft with something Dean can’t read. It makes something boil deep in his gut, makes that feeling he’s been keeping down almost successfully suddenly start to rise, so he looks away. He sees Cas’ eyes close in his peripheral vision and knows that it’s tacit permission. For whatever he’s going to do, whatever he needs to do - Cas will just stand there and take it. Dean lets out a shaky breath and thinks circles around the idea that maybe Cas needs this as much as he does.
He starts with the suit jacket. Cas’ arms go stiff at his sides as Dean pulls the coat off his shoulders, pushing it down his arms. It bunches at the elbows and Dean tugs until it’s slipping onto the floor. Cas’ eyes are still closed and Dean pops the first button of his shirt. He takes the tie out from under the collar and throws it over a shoulder so it’s hanging, crooked, down Castiel’s back. He works quickly, fingers pushing the buttons through the holes with quick efficient movements. He pulls it out of the waistband of the dress pants Cas is wearing and then tears it off him, throwing it down by his feet.
Cas swallows and Dean watches him do it, transfixed by the warm flex of his throat. He tamps down a sigh, bites the words that want to spill out. He stays silent.
When Dean pulls the tie around his hands rake across Castiel’s skin, and he thinks yeah, this he can do, he’s always been better at talking with his hands than with his mouth. His fingers are rough on the dip of skin at Cas’ collarbone and when he’s undone the tie he pulls it off slowly, letting it drag across a shoulder. Cas turns his head into it without opening his eyes and Dean wants to punch him, or. Or something else, he thinks as he swallows. There are a lot of things he wants to do, but now he’s good with just this - just putting his hands on Castiel, making sure he’s real, stripping that old uniform away.
~~~
Feedback is always appreciated!
*lover100 table here
Fandom: Supernatural
Character(s)/Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Prompt: lover100 prompt 006. Uniform
Word Count: 616
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine!
-Author Notes: This was inspired by something I read somewhere, but I have no idea what. For the life of my I can't remember what I was reading that made me think "Oh! Now I have to write a Dean x Cas fic." To be fair, most things make me want to write Dean x Cas fic, so. Also this maybe takes place in s7 but I was perhaps a bit too ~vague in that respect.
“No,” Dean says, gripping the hard edge of Castiel’s jaw. “You don’t get to talk.”
Cas blinks, then swallows, but he doesn’t speak.
Dean tightens his grip for a second and then lets go, hand falling away from Cas’ face, hanging down by his side. He stares at Cas, mouth in a tight, grim line, his whole body rigid with tension. There’s so much he wants to say, so much pushing up his throat, clawing at his lips and weighing his tongue down rough and heavy with confessions he doesn’t want to give. Cas might be human now; Dean isn’t sure. He’s not sure what he is or how he got back - he just knows Cas looks the same as he always did, minus the trenchcoat, and even that is painful. Even looking at the bastard sends anger racing anew up the length of Dean’s spine, through the breadth of his mind. He clenches his jaw, lets it jut out in hard defiance.
Whatever he is, whether he’s man or angel, he’s still Cas - though Dean’s not sure that even means anything anymore.
Before he even realizes they’re moving, his hands grab two fistfuls of Cas’ tie. Dean tugs hard and Cas stumbles forward. “Don’t move,” Dean commands. His voice comes out softer than he wanted and he clears his throat, tugs again, tries to keep himself under control. He lets go with one hand and sets it on Cas’ shoulder.
Dean doesn’t know what he’s doing - and it’s clear Cas doesn’t know, either, his eyes gone soft with something Dean can’t read. It makes something boil deep in his gut, makes that feeling he’s been keeping down almost successfully suddenly start to rise, so he looks away. He sees Cas’ eyes close in his peripheral vision and knows that it’s tacit permission. For whatever he’s going to do, whatever he needs to do - Cas will just stand there and take it. Dean lets out a shaky breath and thinks circles around the idea that maybe Cas needs this as much as he does.
He starts with the suit jacket. Cas’ arms go stiff at his sides as Dean pulls the coat off his shoulders, pushing it down his arms. It bunches at the elbows and Dean tugs until it’s slipping onto the floor. Cas’ eyes are still closed and Dean pops the first button of his shirt. He takes the tie out from under the collar and throws it over a shoulder so it’s hanging, crooked, down Castiel’s back. He works quickly, fingers pushing the buttons through the holes with quick efficient movements. He pulls it out of the waistband of the dress pants Cas is wearing and then tears it off him, throwing it down by his feet.
Cas swallows and Dean watches him do it, transfixed by the warm flex of his throat. He tamps down a sigh, bites the words that want to spill out. He stays silent.
When Dean pulls the tie around his hands rake across Castiel’s skin, and he thinks yeah, this he can do, he’s always been better at talking with his hands than with his mouth. His fingers are rough on the dip of skin at Cas’ collarbone and when he’s undone the tie he pulls it off slowly, letting it drag across a shoulder. Cas turns his head into it without opening his eyes and Dean wants to punch him, or. Or something else, he thinks as he swallows. There are a lot of things he wants to do, but now he’s good with just this - just putting his hands on Castiel, making sure he’s real, stripping that old uniform away.
~~~
Feedback is always appreciated!
*lover100 table here