Fic: Supernatural: Jedi!verse: Dean/Castiel : Practice Makes Perfect: PG-13
Title: Practice Makes Perfect
Author: nicole9514
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none
Genre: Fusion with Star Wars
Pairing: Dean/Castiel (blatant pre-slash)
A/N: This crazy idea for a verse had been floating in my head for awhile and I finally decided to start writing for it. This is a fusion b/t Supernatural and Star Wars; hopefully someone else besides me thinks this is a good idea and enjoys this little fic. Any errors are mine, please forgive them.
Summary: Dean watched the dark haired Jedi as he sparred with his apprentice. Jedi Master Castiel. The man was an annoying, little hutt-spawn. By the book, always professional, and he never laughed at any of Dean’s marvelously crafted jokes.
Word count: 1205
Link to the Masterpost
Dean watched the dark haired Jedi as he sparred with his apprentice. He had on a deep blue tunic, white pants, and his blue eyes were focused. His hair was even more tousled than usual. He wasn’t bulky, but he was toned, and light on his feet.
The picture of grace.
The Jedi Master corrected his student's form as they danced around the room; their practice sabers glowing brightly.
The child, a human girl with long, red hair, and pale skin had her face scrunched up in concentration. Her eyes were tight as she struggled to maintain her posture, and perfect her technique under her Master’s instruction.
Jedi Master Castiel.
The man was an annoying, little hutt-spawn. By the book, always professional, and he never laughed at any of Dean’s marvelously crafted jokes.
The Jedi code was his life, and nothing else mattered.
Dean Winchester was a Jedi Knight, as he hadn’t taken a Padawan learner - he didn’t plan on it. He had enough trouble following the rules - he lived for bending them whenever possible. Having a Padawan would make that much more difficult. Besides, he didn’t need the title of ‘Master’ to give him fulfillment.
He had made it his mission in life to test Cas’s unending patience whenever there was an opportunity.
He might not be the perfect Jedi, but there was one thing he was very good at - using a lightsaber.
“You tired of beating up younglings yet, Cas?” he quipped, stepping forward out of the shadows as he plastered on his most charming smile.
Cas held up his hand, and Anna, his Padawan lowered her weapon and ceased sparring.
He tilted his head and his face remained stoic, but Dean could see flicker’s of amusement peeking out from behind his intense eyes.
At least he liked to think he did - Cas could be hard to read at times. He was good at masking his emotions. Considering the amount of time he spent meditating, Dean wasn’t surprised.
Still, despite how different they were, Dean kept coming back for more. He kept trying to get past the wall of professionalism Castiel maintained.
It had nothing to do with the pleasant build up of heat he was feeling stirring down below as Castiel watched him.
Nothing at all.
One of the rules Dean struggled with daily was that of forming no attachments. It had been drilled into his brain since he was a youngling, but it had never felt right to him. He’d learned to keep his opinions on that matter quiet for the most part. He had a big mouth, but every now and then he learned to shut it.
Dean might not have been involved with anyone on a permanent basis, the risk was too high, but he had spent the night in various beds over the years. It was easier when you weren’t on Coruscant. The galaxy was a big place, and when you were on a small planet, in the middle of nowhere, the rules seemed even further away. He’d found comfort in several women’s arms, and a couple of men’s as well.
Ever since he’d met Castiel a year ago, he hadn’t been able to get the infuriating, Jedi Master out of his head.
He really should admit defeat - Cas wasn’t interested - but he’d never been a quitter.
Cas licked his bottom lip, and wiped sweat from his brow. “Is there something I can assist you with?”
Dean almost chuckled as images of Cas doing very naughty things flooded his thoughts. He managed to swallowed it down, and instead cleared his throat. “I thought your Padawan might benefit from watching two Jedi in action.”
Cas stared at him intensely; he did that a lot. Dean was pretty sure if Cas’s gaze bored into him any more deeply the Jedi would be able to count how many Midi-chlorian’s he had floating around in his blood.
It was eerie and intoxicating all at once.
Cas blinked, then shrugged, as if settling some internal debate, and nodded. “I believe that could be beneficial.”
Anna’s eyes widened, and Dean swore he could feel her bouncing inside with excitement. Dean winked at her, and gave her a thumb’s up, as she settled down onto the floor to watch the show.
She beamed.
He turned back to see Cas narrow his eyes in warning. He didn’t approve of Dean’s “carefree and unprofessional” manner with the younglings and Padawan’s.
Dean smirked, rolled his shoulder’s in an exaggerated stretching motion, and gave Cas a wink as well while reaching for his weapon.
Cas’s eyes glinted with something Dean couldn’t quite place, but it got his blood pumping, and his heart rocketing.
The Jedi Master leapt towards him. It was a controlled, precise leap. He fought as he lived. Dedicated, focused, graceful - and he was damn good.
Dean side-stepped with practiced ease, and tried to catch Cas from behind as he landed. The Jedi Master was two steps ahead of him, already spinning, and turning to meet Dean’s practice saber.
Dean fought with less precision, but he was just as fast.
The fight was on now.
They both spun, parried, and met each other’s attacks, countering expertly.
As they moved, everything else vanished, it was just him, Cas, and their sabers. Blow, after blow, neither able to break each others defenses as they fought.
To an outsider it might have seemed choreographed, but it had always been like this when they sparred. It was as if they were one, both knowing each other so well, they could predict their next move.
Dean felt alive.
Cas’s eyes were bright, and Dean had the sense that the feeling was mutual.
This was the next best thing to sex.
Their lightsaber’s locked, sparks flew, and their eyes connected.
And for just a moment as they circled each other, Dean felt something through the force radiating off the Jedi Master.
Desire…or longing.
Holy Sithspit. That was unexpected.
Then Cas blinked, and it was gone. His gaze shifted, his face darkening, as he darted out of reach.
Dean was breathing hard, uncertain if he’d imagined it.
Without thinking, he drew on the force to leap over his opponent, and was just fast enough to lightly smack the Jedi Master on the ass with his practice saber.
Cas spun, his eyes furious, and Dean found himself on his back as Castiel lifted his arm and sent him flying.
Anna let out a small giggle.
Dean glared at her from his supine position.
She pursed her lips, and fell silent.
Cas walked slowly over to him, and offered his hand, his face a blank mask.
Dean raised an eyebrow, laced his hands behind his head, and said, his tone as unprofessional as possible, “So Cas, was it good for you?”
His blue orbs blazed, and Dean, the sadist he was, found it to be incredibly hot. That smite look he could pull off, was one heck of a turn on.
Cas yanked his hand out of reach, turned, and strode away, leaving Dean sprawled out on the training mat.
He smiled up at the ceiling.
It seemed he’d finally succeeded in making a dent in Castiel’s armor.
He could work with that.
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are always loved and adored; if anyone liked this, i'd love to know. I'm thinking of turning this into a verse, i've got more ideas for fics in it. Anyone interested? Or am I alone in loving the idea of Dean and Castiel as Jedi - because I know my brain goes weird places.
Author: nicole9514
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none
Genre: Fusion with Star Wars
Pairing: Dean/Castiel (blatant pre-slash)
A/N: This crazy idea for a verse had been floating in my head for awhile and I finally decided to start writing for it. This is a fusion b/t Supernatural and Star Wars; hopefully someone else besides me thinks this is a good idea and enjoys this little fic. Any errors are mine, please forgive them.
Summary: Dean watched the dark haired Jedi as he sparred with his apprentice. Jedi Master Castiel. The man was an annoying, little hutt-spawn. By the book, always professional, and he never laughed at any of Dean’s marvelously crafted jokes.
Word count: 1205
Link to the Masterpost
Dean watched the dark haired Jedi as he sparred with his apprentice. He had on a deep blue tunic, white pants, and his blue eyes were focused. His hair was even more tousled than usual. He wasn’t bulky, but he was toned, and light on his feet.
The picture of grace.
The Jedi Master corrected his student's form as they danced around the room; their practice sabers glowing brightly.
The child, a human girl with long, red hair, and pale skin had her face scrunched up in concentration. Her eyes were tight as she struggled to maintain her posture, and perfect her technique under her Master’s instruction.
Jedi Master Castiel.
The man was an annoying, little hutt-spawn. By the book, always professional, and he never laughed at any of Dean’s marvelously crafted jokes.
The Jedi code was his life, and nothing else mattered.
Dean Winchester was a Jedi Knight, as he hadn’t taken a Padawan learner - he didn’t plan on it. He had enough trouble following the rules - he lived for bending them whenever possible. Having a Padawan would make that much more difficult. Besides, he didn’t need the title of ‘Master’ to give him fulfillment.
He had made it his mission in life to test Cas’s unending patience whenever there was an opportunity.
He might not be the perfect Jedi, but there was one thing he was very good at - using a lightsaber.
“You tired of beating up younglings yet, Cas?” he quipped, stepping forward out of the shadows as he plastered on his most charming smile.
Cas held up his hand, and Anna, his Padawan lowered her weapon and ceased sparring.
He tilted his head and his face remained stoic, but Dean could see flicker’s of amusement peeking out from behind his intense eyes.
At least he liked to think he did - Cas could be hard to read at times. He was good at masking his emotions. Considering the amount of time he spent meditating, Dean wasn’t surprised.
Still, despite how different they were, Dean kept coming back for more. He kept trying to get past the wall of professionalism Castiel maintained.
It had nothing to do with the pleasant build up of heat he was feeling stirring down below as Castiel watched him.
Nothing at all.
One of the rules Dean struggled with daily was that of forming no attachments. It had been drilled into his brain since he was a youngling, but it had never felt right to him. He’d learned to keep his opinions on that matter quiet for the most part. He had a big mouth, but every now and then he learned to shut it.
Dean might not have been involved with anyone on a permanent basis, the risk was too high, but he had spent the night in various beds over the years. It was easier when you weren’t on Coruscant. The galaxy was a big place, and when you were on a small planet, in the middle of nowhere, the rules seemed even further away. He’d found comfort in several women’s arms, and a couple of men’s as well.
Ever since he’d met Castiel a year ago, he hadn’t been able to get the infuriating, Jedi Master out of his head.
He really should admit defeat - Cas wasn’t interested - but he’d never been a quitter.
Cas licked his bottom lip, and wiped sweat from his brow. “Is there something I can assist you with?”
Dean almost chuckled as images of Cas doing very naughty things flooded his thoughts. He managed to swallowed it down, and instead cleared his throat. “I thought your Padawan might benefit from watching two Jedi in action.”
Cas stared at him intensely; he did that a lot. Dean was pretty sure if Cas’s gaze bored into him any more deeply the Jedi would be able to count how many Midi-chlorian’s he had floating around in his blood.
It was eerie and intoxicating all at once.
Cas blinked, then shrugged, as if settling some internal debate, and nodded. “I believe that could be beneficial.”
Anna’s eyes widened, and Dean swore he could feel her bouncing inside with excitement. Dean winked at her, and gave her a thumb’s up, as she settled down onto the floor to watch the show.
She beamed.
He turned back to see Cas narrow his eyes in warning. He didn’t approve of Dean’s “carefree and unprofessional” manner with the younglings and Padawan’s.
Dean smirked, rolled his shoulder’s in an exaggerated stretching motion, and gave Cas a wink as well while reaching for his weapon.
Cas’s eyes glinted with something Dean couldn’t quite place, but it got his blood pumping, and his heart rocketing.
The Jedi Master leapt towards him. It was a controlled, precise leap. He fought as he lived. Dedicated, focused, graceful - and he was damn good.
Dean side-stepped with practiced ease, and tried to catch Cas from behind as he landed. The Jedi Master was two steps ahead of him, already spinning, and turning to meet Dean’s practice saber.
Dean fought with less precision, but he was just as fast.
The fight was on now.
They both spun, parried, and met each other’s attacks, countering expertly.
As they moved, everything else vanished, it was just him, Cas, and their sabers. Blow, after blow, neither able to break each others defenses as they fought.
To an outsider it might have seemed choreographed, but it had always been like this when they sparred. It was as if they were one, both knowing each other so well, they could predict their next move.
Dean felt alive.
Cas’s eyes were bright, and Dean had the sense that the feeling was mutual.
This was the next best thing to sex.
Their lightsaber’s locked, sparks flew, and their eyes connected.
And for just a moment as they circled each other, Dean felt something through the force radiating off the Jedi Master.
Desire…or longing.
Holy Sithspit. That was unexpected.
Then Cas blinked, and it was gone. His gaze shifted, his face darkening, as he darted out of reach.
Dean was breathing hard, uncertain if he’d imagined it.
Without thinking, he drew on the force to leap over his opponent, and was just fast enough to lightly smack the Jedi Master on the ass with his practice saber.
Cas spun, his eyes furious, and Dean found himself on his back as Castiel lifted his arm and sent him flying.
Anna let out a small giggle.
Dean glared at her from his supine position.
She pursed her lips, and fell silent.
Cas walked slowly over to him, and offered his hand, his face a blank mask.
Dean raised an eyebrow, laced his hands behind his head, and said, his tone as unprofessional as possible, “So Cas, was it good for you?”
His blue orbs blazed, and Dean, the sadist he was, found it to be incredibly hot. That smite look he could pull off, was one heck of a turn on.
Cas yanked his hand out of reach, turned, and strode away, leaving Dean sprawled out on the training mat.
He smiled up at the ceiling.
It seemed he’d finally succeeded in making a dent in Castiel’s armor.
He could work with that.
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are always loved and adored; if anyone liked this, i'd love to know. I'm thinking of turning this into a verse, i've got more ideas for fics in it. Anyone interested? Or am I alone in loving the idea of Dean and Castiel as Jedi - because I know my brain goes weird places.