SPN: Smith/Castiel - First Experience, slight Oral Fixation 1/3mortarJanuary 7 2011, 20:49:46 UTC
I hope this is to your liking.
Dean Smith likes the new guy.
He was supposed to be some kind of expert, hired on to help with the company's long term goals; and because of such would be working with Dean, the Director of Sales and Marketing, upon occasion. He showed up to work each day, exactly on time, top of his shirt often undone, and headed directly to Mr. Alder's office to review the day's goals or something. Whenever he left Mr. Alder's office though, that shirt was buttoned up, and it made Dean chuckle thinking of Mr. Alder going over the unofficial dress code of higher management with the guy. Dean hadn't seen much of a change around the workplace; the new guy would just stand off to the side of which ever room was busiest, inspecting everyone like they were absolutely nothing to him. He didn't exactly command respect from his peers, but somehow, Dean felt it. He chalked it up to the fact that the guy had been hired personally by Alder, but it was something else, it had to be.
There was nothing about the new guy to like, but Dean did anyways.
A knocking on the door brings Dean back to reality. The clock is ticking away, a siren is blaring somewhere off in the distance. It's nearly lunch.
"Come in," Dean answers after a beat, looking down at the memo in front of him and the invoice he's filling out, remembering what he was supposed to be doing. Instead of drifting off, he should be working. Busy week, this one. Busy week.
The person who opens the door isn't Mr. Alder smiling brightly or Keith with reports from last night's football game, nor is it Percy with news about the new season of Project Runway. It's the new guy, dressed immaculately; a sharp blue tie, white shirt buttoned up all the way to the neck, a classic black business suit. Dean has to respect the man for being able to pull the look off-- most men in black suits simply looked washed out and pale. Now if only the guy would shave--
"Dean Smith." The new guy says cooly, watching without falter as Dean rises from his seat to greet him. Dean offers him his hand, other hand going to button up the front of his jacket.
The new guy looks down at Dean's hand, like it personally offends him, before reaching out and shaking it, grip firm and tight. Dean fishes for a name, knowing Mr. Alder gave him one when introducing the guy to the rest of the floor, but for the life of him, Dean can't remember it. Dean opens his mouth to ask, professionally, without disrespect, before the guy simply answers for him.
"You may call me Castiel."
No last name. They part, Dean moving back against his desk. He wants to ask about the name, something about it striking Dean deep down and making something inside of him twist-- but he doesn't. They stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, seconds ticking away in his ear.
"Mr... Alder said for me to watch over you for a short while. To demonstrate what a benefit you are to the company." Castiel finally says, breaking the silence. Dean smiles uncertainly, looking over at the man who could very well destroy him in the eyes of Mr. Alder. Castiel seems unperturbed by Dean's uneasiness, lips tight and thin and eyes hard as rock. The man then looks out, then, removing his gaze from Dean's, inspecting the office Dean has called his own.
Dean clears his throat, swallowing hard before nodding. "Sure, sure. Take a seat wherever you want. Can't say it will be riveting television, watching me." Dean gives Castiel an award winning smile then, hoping to disarm the overwhelming sense of otherness Castiel was portraying. All Dean manages to do is pull Castiel's wandering attention back to him, focus aimed entirely at him, and nowhere else. Dean has to fidget, because he feels completely taken apart under Castiel.
When Castiel's lips part, Dean expects an ultimatum, bad news, or a revelation. What comes out instead is different.
2/3 sorry for spam!mortarJanuary 7 2011, 20:52:20 UTC
"You are always a pleasure to observe, Dean."
Everything in Dean says he should be alarmed by this, disgusted and offended-- and yeah, Dean does feel used, uncomfortable, but it doesn't feel... off putting. It feels normal. They're staring at each other again, Dean aghast and Castiel a solid presence in the room, taking all of Dean's attention from him.
"Perhaps you should return to your work." Castiel says suddenly; face still blank, but eyes turning to expectant. Castiel sits himself off in the corner, in the chair Mr. Alder usually sits during performance reviews or when he wants a break from upper management for a few minutes.
Dean jerks like he's been shocked when their contact is broken, and Dean has to brush it off with a shaken laugh, returning to his side of the desk and sinking down in the chair like it will protect him. "Right," Dean says, looking at his computer, then the sheets in front of him. "Right, yeah. Work."
--
Castiel is there the next day as well. He sits in the corner, watching with an unbreakable stare, and Dean finds himself falling into something of an ease with Castiel there in the room with him. Mr. Alder comes to call a few hours into the work day, grinning at Dean like a proud coach and Dean is the star MVP of the football team. Dean doesn't blush from the attention, but he does feel sucked into something that's bigger than he is.
Mr. Alder and Castiel discuss Dean's work, briefly, mostly Mr. Alder asking if Castiel is satisfied with Dean's positive input and how much better he does here, than where he was before which-- Dean will admit, is true. The last city and company Dean had been working for was... it had been an experience. Mr. Alder is sunny, but there's an edge to his voice when he's addressing Castiel, but Dean can't place it. Castiel simply stands there as it happens, like he's being scolded by a drill sergeant.
It makes Dean feel uncomfortable, watching it, so Dean tries to tune them both out, and focus on his work.
It's two hours until five, and Dean's preparing to wind down for the day, finishing up any loose ends on the project Mr. Turner had handed down to him mid-last week and was due at the end of this one. Mr. Alder would be pleased by the quickness, and perhaps Castiel would too and maybe Dean would be seen as "fit for achieving Sandover's long term goals." Castiel has been observing Dean for two days now, and it makes Dean antsy. If Castiel didn't like what he was seeing, then Dean was done for-- Dean simply knew that fact, somehow.
"You are a hard worker, Dean." Castiel says quietly, the lack of formality making Dean tense up. "Determined."
"I do try." Dean offers, setting down his pen and looking over at the perch Castiel seemingly has claimed. The man looks as untouchable as usual, crisp suit, unshaven stubble, windswept hair like he biked to work instead of drove. Something about him makes Dean feel so small. "I hope it just pays off in the end."
Castiel's focus is suddenly laser hard, directed at Dean and Dean feels like the room is closing in on him."Everything pays off in the end. You should trust in those higher than you." Then Castiel is suddenly on his feet and approaching Dean slowly, like the world isn't suddenly collapsing in and a tornado isn't touching down-- and before Dean even knows it, Castiel is on his side of the desk, turning Dean's chair around until Dean's directly in front of Castiel, and Castiel is leaning down, hands gripping at the arms of Dean's chair. "Everything you do is important."
The kiss is sudden, and Dean doesn't have a chance before Castiel's pulling away-- looking startled with himself, head whipping to the door as if to make sure no one saw, then out the window (they're on floor 22, no one could see them up here.) "My apologies," Castiel stumbles out, taking a few steps back. "Please do not tell Zachari-- Mr. Alder."
Dean stands, feeling something swell inside him and Dean doesn't know what to do-- "Cas, wait--"
But then Castiel is suddenly gone. Vanished into thin air. All Dean can do is slump back down into his chair and wonder what the hell just happened.
Dean blames yesterday on exhaustion, stress, and overworking. It's the only reasonable explanation on how Castiel suddenly disappeared in front of his eyes while also explaining how the kiss had all been a figment of his imagination. That is, until Keith stops in with some office gossip, something about how Castiel had been sacked, about how Mr. Alder was on a rampage, all burning fury about something he wasn't talking about.
Dean finds himself panicking. Not over Mr. Alder, but over the thought of Castiel being fired. He has no clue why. The day drags on and on, and Dean finds himself looking over at the chair Castiel had been sitting at for the past two days-- finds himself disappointed when Castiel isn't there. Somehow he had come to assume Castiel would always be there, looking out for him, over him.
It was jarring for Castiel to be suddenly absent. The discomfort made Dean feel like he was 10 again, with Cindy Barnes telling him that she really didn't want to sit next to him. It was humiliating, and Dean's thankful for when five rolls around. If Dean stayed around for an extra half an hour or so, he could complete this spread chart and finish up the presentation he's developing for the conference coming up in a few weeks time, but Dean's jumping out of his seat, and rushing from Sandover with a fever that Mr. Alder would be ashamed to see.
Mr. Alder doesn't see, though, because he's nowhere near where Dean is, probably still up in his office, looking down at all the mice shuffle about. Something in Dean says that he hasn't escaped notice though, and it makes Dean hate Sandover.
--
When Dean gets to his apartment complex, Castiel is there.
They don't say anything when Dean approaches. They don't say anything when Dean places his hands on either side of Castiel's head, against the wall Castiel's leaning on. They don't say anything when Dean leans in just as close as Castiel had before.
"Why'd you do that, Cas?" asks Dean lowly, nickname slipping out without though. Castiel doesn't correct him, nor does he answer. "Are you in love with me?" Dean means for it to be teasing, but is surprised to find himself serious. The look in Castiel's eyes finally looks like something human, pliant. All Castiel does is straighten up, though, but it's more than enough of a reaction for Dean to know his question struck truth.
"How long?"
Castiel response isn't calculated and Dean feels like he's won some kind of contest. "For much too long."
"Mr. Alder fired you." says Dean.
"I was disobedient." Castiel breathes, like speaking sacrilege. Dean looks down at Castiel's lips while they form words, watching each turn, before he's leaning down and giving Cas the kiss he should've gotten in the first place. It's dry, Castiel's lips are chapped and he's obviously inexperienced; and it's not the best kiss Dean's ever had (Sue Lian, last year Standford) but it's like he's been expecting this for months, when he's only known Castiel for a few days. Dean pushes Castiel up against the wall tight, his knee jerking between Castiel's and its needy-- Castiel's hand coming up to clutch at the side of Dean's jacket. It starts small, but becomes something too deep for Dean to fathom, and he's forced to pull back to gasp for some air.
Dean finds Castiel stone faced, then, flush and lips kiss-messy. "This is disobedience." Castiel says while one of his hands reaches up and brushes Dean's temple.
There's a pulling in Dean's gut, then suddenly everything is black.
--
Dean wakes up the next day, eats a slice of toast on his way to work, listening to the morning news, files ready and prepared in his briefcase.
Percy and Keith approach him the second he's out of the elevator and ask about someone named Castiel.
"Who?" Dean responds with an arched eyebrow. The two suddenly look confused; before responding that they don't actually know. The three of them talk about Oprah for a second, before walking off to their various work stations.
Just another day at Sandover, and Dean felt great.
Re: FINISH 3/3an_ardent_rainJanuary 8 2011, 16:13:52 UTC
Oh, VERY nice. :D
Thank you so much; I loved it! And THIS: but it's like he's been expecting this for months, when he's only known Castiel for a few days - oh, that was perfect. You did a fantastic job with Dean as Dean Smith and I really enjoyed reading this! Thanks again!
Dean Smith likes the new guy.
He was supposed to be some kind of expert, hired on to help with the company's long term goals; and because of such would be working with Dean, the Director of Sales and Marketing, upon occasion. He showed up to work each day, exactly on time, top of his shirt often undone, and headed directly to Mr. Alder's office to review the day's goals or something. Whenever he left Mr. Alder's office though, that shirt was buttoned up, and it made Dean chuckle thinking of Mr. Alder going over the unofficial dress code of higher management with the guy. Dean hadn't seen much of a change around the workplace; the new guy would just stand off to the side of which ever room was busiest, inspecting everyone like they were absolutely nothing to him. He didn't exactly command respect from his peers, but somehow, Dean felt it. He chalked it up to the fact that the guy had been hired personally by Alder, but it was something else, it had to be.
There was nothing about the new guy to like, but Dean did anyways.
A knocking on the door brings Dean back to reality. The clock is ticking away, a siren is blaring somewhere off in the distance. It's nearly lunch.
"Come in," Dean answers after a beat, looking down at the memo in front of him and the invoice he's filling out, remembering what he was supposed to be doing. Instead of drifting off, he should be working. Busy week, this one. Busy week.
The person who opens the door isn't Mr. Alder smiling brightly or Keith with reports from last night's football game, nor is it Percy with news about the new season of Project Runway. It's the new guy, dressed immaculately; a sharp blue tie, white shirt buttoned up all the way to the neck, a classic black business suit. Dean has to respect the man for being able to pull the look off-- most men in black suits simply looked washed out and pale. Now if only the guy would shave--
"Dean Smith." The new guy says cooly, watching without falter as Dean rises from his seat to greet him. Dean offers him his hand, other hand going to button up the front of his jacket.
The new guy looks down at Dean's hand, like it personally offends him, before reaching out and shaking it, grip firm and tight. Dean fishes for a name, knowing Mr. Alder gave him one when introducing the guy to the rest of the floor, but for the life of him, Dean can't remember it. Dean opens his mouth to ask, professionally, without disrespect, before the guy simply answers for him.
"You may call me Castiel."
No last name. They part, Dean moving back against his desk. He wants to ask about the name, something about it striking Dean deep down and making something inside of him twist-- but he doesn't. They stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, seconds ticking away in his ear.
"Mr... Alder said for me to watch over you for a short while. To demonstrate what a benefit you are to the company." Castiel finally says, breaking the silence. Dean smiles uncertainly, looking over at the man who could very well destroy him in the eyes of Mr. Alder. Castiel seems unperturbed by Dean's uneasiness, lips tight and thin and eyes hard as rock. The man then looks out, then, removing his gaze from Dean's, inspecting the office Dean has called his own.
Dean clears his throat, swallowing hard before nodding. "Sure, sure. Take a seat wherever you want. Can't say it will be riveting television, watching me." Dean gives Castiel an award winning smile then, hoping to disarm the overwhelming sense of otherness Castiel was portraying. All Dean manages to do is pull Castiel's wandering attention back to him, focus aimed entirely at him, and nowhere else. Dean has to fidget, because he feels completely taken apart under Castiel.
When Castiel's lips part, Dean expects an ultimatum, bad news, or a revelation. What comes out instead is different.
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Everything in Dean says he should be alarmed by this, disgusted and offended-- and yeah, Dean does feel used, uncomfortable, but it doesn't feel... off putting. It feels normal. They're staring at each other again, Dean aghast and Castiel a solid presence in the room, taking all of Dean's attention from him.
"Perhaps you should return to your work." Castiel says suddenly; face still blank, but eyes turning to expectant. Castiel sits himself off in the corner, in the chair Mr. Alder usually sits during performance reviews or when he wants a break from upper management for a few minutes.
Dean jerks like he's been shocked when their contact is broken, and Dean has to brush it off with a shaken laugh, returning to his side of the desk and sinking down in the chair like it will protect him. "Right," Dean says, looking at his computer, then the sheets in front of him. "Right, yeah. Work."
--
Castiel is there the next day as well. He sits in the corner, watching with an unbreakable stare, and Dean finds himself falling into something of an ease with Castiel there in the room with him. Mr. Alder comes to call a few hours into the work day, grinning at Dean like a proud coach and Dean is the star MVP of the football team. Dean doesn't blush from the attention, but he does feel sucked into something that's bigger than he is.
Mr. Alder and Castiel discuss Dean's work, briefly, mostly Mr. Alder asking if Castiel is satisfied with Dean's positive input and how much better he does here, than where he was before which-- Dean will admit, is true. The last city and company Dean had been working for was... it had been an experience. Mr. Alder is sunny, but there's an edge to his voice when he's addressing Castiel, but Dean can't place it. Castiel simply stands there as it happens, like he's being scolded by a drill sergeant.
It makes Dean feel uncomfortable, watching it, so Dean tries to tune them both out, and focus on his work.
It's two hours until five, and Dean's preparing to wind down for the day, finishing up any loose ends on the project Mr. Turner had handed down to him mid-last week and was due at the end of this one. Mr. Alder would be pleased by the quickness, and perhaps Castiel would too and maybe Dean would be seen as "fit for achieving Sandover's long term goals." Castiel has been observing Dean for two days now, and it makes Dean antsy. If Castiel didn't like what he was seeing, then Dean was done for-- Dean simply knew that fact, somehow.
"You are a hard worker, Dean." Castiel says quietly, the lack of formality making Dean tense up. "Determined."
"I do try." Dean offers, setting down his pen and looking over at the perch Castiel seemingly has claimed. The man looks as untouchable as usual, crisp suit, unshaven stubble, windswept hair like he biked to work instead of drove. Something about him makes Dean feel so small. "I hope it just pays off in the end."
Castiel's focus is suddenly laser hard, directed at Dean and Dean feels like the room is closing in on him."Everything pays off in the end. You should trust in those higher than you." Then Castiel is suddenly on his feet and approaching Dean slowly, like the world isn't suddenly collapsing in and a tornado isn't touching down-- and before Dean even knows it, Castiel is on his side of the desk, turning Dean's chair around until Dean's directly in front of Castiel, and Castiel is leaning down, hands gripping at the arms of Dean's chair. "Everything you do is important."
The kiss is sudden, and Dean doesn't have a chance before Castiel's pulling away-- looking startled with himself, head whipping to the door as if to make sure no one saw, then out the window (they're on floor 22, no one could see them up here.) "My apologies," Castiel stumbles out, taking a few steps back. "Please do not tell Zachari-- Mr. Alder."
Dean stands, feeling something swell inside him and Dean doesn't know what to do-- "Cas, wait--"
But then Castiel is suddenly gone. Vanished into thin air. All Dean can do is slump back down into his chair and wonder what the hell just happened.
--
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Dean finds himself panicking. Not over Mr. Alder, but over the thought of Castiel being fired. He has no clue why. The day drags on and on, and Dean finds himself looking over at the chair Castiel had been sitting at for the past two days-- finds himself disappointed when Castiel isn't there. Somehow he had come to assume Castiel would always be there, looking out for him, over him.
It was jarring for Castiel to be suddenly absent. The discomfort made Dean feel like he was 10 again, with Cindy Barnes telling him that she really didn't want to sit next to him. It was humiliating, and Dean's thankful for when five rolls around. If Dean stayed around for an extra half an hour or so, he could complete this spread chart and finish up the presentation he's developing for the conference coming up in a few weeks time, but Dean's jumping out of his seat, and rushing from Sandover with a fever that Mr. Alder would be ashamed to see.
Mr. Alder doesn't see, though, because he's nowhere near where Dean is, probably still up in his office, looking down at all the mice shuffle about. Something in Dean says that he hasn't escaped notice though, and it makes Dean hate Sandover.
--
When Dean gets to his apartment complex, Castiel is there.
They don't say anything when Dean approaches. They don't say anything when Dean places his hands on either side of Castiel's head, against the wall Castiel's leaning on. They don't say anything when Dean leans in just as close as Castiel had before.
"Why'd you do that, Cas?" asks Dean lowly, nickname slipping out without though. Castiel doesn't correct him, nor does he answer. "Are you in love with me?" Dean means for it to be teasing, but is surprised to find himself serious. The look in Castiel's eyes finally looks like something human, pliant. All Castiel does is straighten up, though, but it's more than enough of a reaction for Dean to know his question struck truth.
"How long?"
Castiel response isn't calculated and Dean feels like he's won some kind of contest. "For much too long."
"Mr. Alder fired you." says Dean.
"I was disobedient." Castiel breathes, like speaking sacrilege. Dean looks down at Castiel's lips while they form words, watching each turn, before he's leaning down and giving Cas the kiss he should've gotten in the first place. It's dry, Castiel's lips are chapped and he's obviously inexperienced; and it's not the best kiss Dean's ever had (Sue Lian, last year Standford) but it's like he's been expecting this for months, when he's only known Castiel for a few days. Dean pushes Castiel up against the wall tight, his knee jerking between Castiel's and its needy-- Castiel's hand coming up to clutch at the side of Dean's jacket. It starts small, but becomes something too deep for Dean to fathom, and he's forced to pull back to gasp for some air.
Dean finds Castiel stone faced, then, flush and lips kiss-messy. "This is disobedience." Castiel says while one of his hands reaches up and brushes Dean's temple.
There's a pulling in Dean's gut, then suddenly everything is black.
--
Dean wakes up the next day, eats a slice of toast on his way to work, listening to the morning news, files ready and prepared in his briefcase.
Percy and Keith approach him the second he's out of the elevator and ask about someone named Castiel.
"Who?" Dean responds with an arched eyebrow. The two suddenly look confused; before responding that they don't actually know. The three of them talk about Oprah for a second, before walking off to their various work stations.
Just another day at Sandover, and Dean felt great.
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Thank you so much; I loved it! And THIS: but it's like he's been expecting this for months, when he's only known Castiel for a few days - oh, that was perfect. You did a fantastic job with Dean as Dean Smith and I really enjoyed reading this! Thanks again!
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(I secretly really love that line too.)
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