Fic: By how much you love, part 14/? in the Oz series
By how much you love
1300 words, SPN Dean/Castiel slash. Spoilers for all of season 4.
zelda_zee is my beta and I love her.
Continuing my Welcome to Oz series. Master post of links here.
“First day of school, huh?” Dean leans against the doorjamb of the bedroom, limbs long and lazy as he watches Castiel across the room.
By how much you love
“First day of school, huh?” Dean leans against the doorjamb of the bedroom, limbs long and lazy as he watches Castiel across the room. “Don’t forget to tie your shoes and pick up your lunch money.”
Castiel finishes the last few buttons on his shirt. “I believe lunch will be provided at the meeting. Also, I’m not wearing any shoes yet.”
Dean waves away Castiel’s reply. “I hope the food’s less shitty than I remember. Actually, I’m pretty sure there’s a law out there that says all school cafeteria food must be shitty.”
“Congress sat down to write a law concerning subpar food in public schools?” The corners of Castiel’s mouth quirk up a little.
“Hell yeah, they did,” Dean smiles back. “Skip the meatloaf and anything with the phrase ‘mystery meat’ in the name. Grab the potato chips, cookies, and--if they have them--candy bars as fast as you can.”
Castiel buttons his shirt cuffs and then sits down on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. “I appreciate this helpful advice, but shouldn’t you be heading to work?”
“I’m taking the day off,” Dean says breezily. “I called Sanjay and he’s gonna open up. I figured I’d finish teaching you how to drive today.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Castiel raises his eyebrows. “The last time we tried it was... rather unpleasant. For both of us.”
“I don’t know if my heart will ever be ready for it,” Dean puts a hand to his chest for added effect, “but you’ve gotta learn to drive yourself to school so I’ve gotta teach you. But we’re taking the Focus, just in case.”
Castiel leans down to tie his shoelaces. “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from yelling at me and incessantly shrieking ‘we’re going to die’.”
“I did not yell,” Dean says, crossing his arms over his chest, “I offered helpful suggestions. And I might have told you in very deep and manly voice that driving us off the side of a mountain would probably result in our deaths, but I definitely did not shriek anything.”
“My mistake,” Castiel says, but he sounds amused. He picks up the plain blue tie laid out on the bed and slides it underneath his shirt collar.
Dean watches Castiel struggle to make a knot for a few minutes before pushing off the doorjamb and stepping forward. “You keep this up and you’ll end up choking yourself before you make it through your first day,” Dean says as he takes both ends of the tie from Castiel. Castiel’s arms drop obediently to his side. “The rabbit hops over the log,” Dean says as he crosses the wide end of the tie over the narrow end.
“Rabbit?” Castiel repeats.
“Shut up,” Dean says, briefly looking up at Castiel face (which is very close) before returning to his tie. “My dad taught me this to help me remember how to tie a tie. You wanna learn it or do you wanna look stupid in front of all the other teachers?”
“The rabbit hops over a log,” Castiel acquiesces.
“Then the rabbit crawls under the log,” Dean says and pulls the wide end behind the narrow end. “The rabbit tries to outsmart the fox by running around the log.”
“There’s a fox now?”
“Obviously, otherwise why would the rabbit be running around a log?” Dean replies. “Finally, the rabbit jumps down the rabbit hole.” He pulls the end of the tie through the loop and gently pushes the knot up to Castiel’s collar.
“Does the rabbit get away in the end?” Castiel asks, and his breath is warm on Dean’s hands.
“Huh?” Dean looks up from the knot and Castiel’s eyes are right there, wide and too blue, bluer than the tie around his neck.
“From the fox,” Castiel says. “Does the rabbit get away from the fox in the end?”
“I, uh,” Dean swallows and for a second, Castiel’s gaze flicks away from his eyes and down to his throat. “I dunno. I never asked.”
“I don’t think it does,” Castiel says, and he’s making eye contact again, voice lower than usual, face only a few inches away. Dean feels a rush of heat blaze through his body, lighting him up like a goddamn Christmas tree, and his hands are still on Castiel’s tie and he can’t remember why. “I think the fox would follow it down the rabbit hole.”
“That makes sense,” Dean says, and his voice sounds faint to his ears. “So that’s how you-tie a tie.”
“Thank you,” Castiel says, as he looks down at his tie and Dean remembers, right, he should let go and step back. So he does.
“No sweat,” Dean says. He takes another two steps back, suddenly aware that somewhere in the process of knotting a damn tie, he’d gotten painfully, weirdly hard. He’s incredibly grateful that he decided to wear loose fitting pants today and shifts his weight slightly, hoping that Castiel doesn’t notice anything off. Sure, it’s been almost four months since he last got laid (Jesus Christ, almost four months in Mountaindale) but Dean didn’t think he was desperate enough to, well, get hard from just touching somebody’s clothes and standing close to them. Much less Castiel, who is a recovering angel of the lord, of all people. On the bright side, he probably doesn’t even know what an inappropriately timed hard-on is, much less how to spot one.
“I wanted to thank you not only for the tie,” Castiel says. “Thank you for teaching me how to drive and-and everything.”
Dean wonders if he has enough time to hop into a quick cold shower before they go. He glances at the clock; probably not. Then again, the fear for his life that Castiel instills when he drives will probably be quite effective at deflating Dean’s erection. “When you can actually drive, then you can thank me.”
Castiel smiles faintly, but his voice is serious as he puts on his suit jacket. “I know the past few months have been difficult for you. This town is not very exciting, and you must miss your family. Your home.”
Dean shoves his hands in his pockets and walks to the bedroom door. “I could say the same for you, man.”
The expression on Castiel’s face is sad. “My home and my family have spurned me. I can never go back, and I know I will never behold the glory of Heaven again. But you,” Castiel looks down to button his jacket. “Yours still await you.”
Dean hesitates at the door. “You know that when we get out of here, you’re-you’re welcome to join me and Sammy on the road. We’ve still got an Apocalypse to stop and it’s not like it makes sense for us to go it alone.”
Castiel studies Dean thoughtfully. “You do not need to concern yourself with my fate after we escape this place. I will find my way.”
“It’s not like you’re some stray I found on the side of the road and picked up,” Dean says. “I said you’re welcome, and I mean it. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”
Castiel nods, but Dean gets the feeling he still doesn’t quite believe him. Instead of replying directly, Castiel runs a hand down the front of his tie, smoothing it underneath his suit jacket. “Have I got it all right now?”
Dean gives Castiel a once over and damn it all if his dick-which was starting to lose interest what with the earnest and depressing conversation about never going home-perks up again. Dean clears his throat and says, “You look like a cleaned up version of the guy I stabbed in a barn last year. Missing the swirling trenchcoat, though.”
Castiel looks up at Dean and smiles.
Onto the next chapter: What have you learned, Dorothy?
1300 words, SPN Dean/Castiel slash. Spoilers for all of season 4.
zelda_zee is my beta and I love her.
Continuing my Welcome to Oz series. Master post of links here.
“First day of school, huh?” Dean leans against the doorjamb of the bedroom, limbs long and lazy as he watches Castiel across the room.
By how much you love
“First day of school, huh?” Dean leans against the doorjamb of the bedroom, limbs long and lazy as he watches Castiel across the room. “Don’t forget to tie your shoes and pick up your lunch money.”
Castiel finishes the last few buttons on his shirt. “I believe lunch will be provided at the meeting. Also, I’m not wearing any shoes yet.”
Dean waves away Castiel’s reply. “I hope the food’s less shitty than I remember. Actually, I’m pretty sure there’s a law out there that says all school cafeteria food must be shitty.”
“Congress sat down to write a law concerning subpar food in public schools?” The corners of Castiel’s mouth quirk up a little.
“Hell yeah, they did,” Dean smiles back. “Skip the meatloaf and anything with the phrase ‘mystery meat’ in the name. Grab the potato chips, cookies, and--if they have them--candy bars as fast as you can.”
Castiel buttons his shirt cuffs and then sits down on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. “I appreciate this helpful advice, but shouldn’t you be heading to work?”
“I’m taking the day off,” Dean says breezily. “I called Sanjay and he’s gonna open up. I figured I’d finish teaching you how to drive today.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Castiel raises his eyebrows. “The last time we tried it was... rather unpleasant. For both of us.”
“I don’t know if my heart will ever be ready for it,” Dean puts a hand to his chest for added effect, “but you’ve gotta learn to drive yourself to school so I’ve gotta teach you. But we’re taking the Focus, just in case.”
Castiel leans down to tie his shoelaces. “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from yelling at me and incessantly shrieking ‘we’re going to die’.”
“I did not yell,” Dean says, crossing his arms over his chest, “I offered helpful suggestions. And I might have told you in very deep and manly voice that driving us off the side of a mountain would probably result in our deaths, but I definitely did not shriek anything.”
“My mistake,” Castiel says, but he sounds amused. He picks up the plain blue tie laid out on the bed and slides it underneath his shirt collar.
Dean watches Castiel struggle to make a knot for a few minutes before pushing off the doorjamb and stepping forward. “You keep this up and you’ll end up choking yourself before you make it through your first day,” Dean says as he takes both ends of the tie from Castiel. Castiel’s arms drop obediently to his side. “The rabbit hops over the log,” Dean says as he crosses the wide end of the tie over the narrow end.
“Rabbit?” Castiel repeats.
“Shut up,” Dean says, briefly looking up at Castiel face (which is very close) before returning to his tie. “My dad taught me this to help me remember how to tie a tie. You wanna learn it or do you wanna look stupid in front of all the other teachers?”
“The rabbit hops over a log,” Castiel acquiesces.
“Then the rabbit crawls under the log,” Dean says and pulls the wide end behind the narrow end. “The rabbit tries to outsmart the fox by running around the log.”
“There’s a fox now?”
“Obviously, otherwise why would the rabbit be running around a log?” Dean replies. “Finally, the rabbit jumps down the rabbit hole.” He pulls the end of the tie through the loop and gently pushes the knot up to Castiel’s collar.
“Does the rabbit get away in the end?” Castiel asks, and his breath is warm on Dean’s hands.
“Huh?” Dean looks up from the knot and Castiel’s eyes are right there, wide and too blue, bluer than the tie around his neck.
“From the fox,” Castiel says. “Does the rabbit get away from the fox in the end?”
“I, uh,” Dean swallows and for a second, Castiel’s gaze flicks away from his eyes and down to his throat. “I dunno. I never asked.”
“I don’t think it does,” Castiel says, and he’s making eye contact again, voice lower than usual, face only a few inches away. Dean feels a rush of heat blaze through his body, lighting him up like a goddamn Christmas tree, and his hands are still on Castiel’s tie and he can’t remember why. “I think the fox would follow it down the rabbit hole.”
“That makes sense,” Dean says, and his voice sounds faint to his ears. “So that’s how you-tie a tie.”
“Thank you,” Castiel says, as he looks down at his tie and Dean remembers, right, he should let go and step back. So he does.
“No sweat,” Dean says. He takes another two steps back, suddenly aware that somewhere in the process of knotting a damn tie, he’d gotten painfully, weirdly hard. He’s incredibly grateful that he decided to wear loose fitting pants today and shifts his weight slightly, hoping that Castiel doesn’t notice anything off. Sure, it’s been almost four months since he last got laid (Jesus Christ, almost four months in Mountaindale) but Dean didn’t think he was desperate enough to, well, get hard from just touching somebody’s clothes and standing close to them. Much less Castiel, who is a recovering angel of the lord, of all people. On the bright side, he probably doesn’t even know what an inappropriately timed hard-on is, much less how to spot one.
“I wanted to thank you not only for the tie,” Castiel says. “Thank you for teaching me how to drive and-and everything.”
Dean wonders if he has enough time to hop into a quick cold shower before they go. He glances at the clock; probably not. Then again, the fear for his life that Castiel instills when he drives will probably be quite effective at deflating Dean’s erection. “When you can actually drive, then you can thank me.”
Castiel smiles faintly, but his voice is serious as he puts on his suit jacket. “I know the past few months have been difficult for you. This town is not very exciting, and you must miss your family. Your home.”
Dean shoves his hands in his pockets and walks to the bedroom door. “I could say the same for you, man.”
The expression on Castiel’s face is sad. “My home and my family have spurned me. I can never go back, and I know I will never behold the glory of Heaven again. But you,” Castiel looks down to button his jacket. “Yours still await you.”
Dean hesitates at the door. “You know that when we get out of here, you’re-you’re welcome to join me and Sammy on the road. We’ve still got an Apocalypse to stop and it’s not like it makes sense for us to go it alone.”
Castiel studies Dean thoughtfully. “You do not need to concern yourself with my fate after we escape this place. I will find my way.”
“It’s not like you’re some stray I found on the side of the road and picked up,” Dean says. “I said you’re welcome, and I mean it. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”
Castiel nods, but Dean gets the feeling he still doesn’t quite believe him. Instead of replying directly, Castiel runs a hand down the front of his tie, smoothing it underneath his suit jacket. “Have I got it all right now?”
Dean gives Castiel a once over and damn it all if his dick-which was starting to lose interest what with the earnest and depressing conversation about never going home-perks up again. Dean clears his throat and says, “You look like a cleaned up version of the guy I stabbed in a barn last year. Missing the swirling trenchcoat, though.”
Castiel looks up at Dean and smiles.
Onto the next chapter: What have you learned, Dorothy?