Fic: Supernatural: Jedi!Verse: Dean/Castiel: More Practice Never Hurt Anyone (R)
Title: More Practice Never Hurt Anyone
Author: nicole9514
Rating: R
Genre: AU, Fusion w/Star Wars, action, romance
Pairing: Dean/Castiel ( blatant pre-slash bordering on almost full-on slash)
Spoilers: None
A/N: This fic takes place in my recently created Jedi!verse series of fics - where both Dean and Castiel are Jedi - with a dangerous attraction to each other.
Summary: His tunic had slipped down slightly, and his stomach muscles were exposed just enough for Dean to notice the curve of his hips, and the definition across his abdomen. Damn. Now that was a view.
Word Count: 1,869
New to the series; here's a Link to the Masterpost
Dean’s heart was tripping over itself as he headed towards the training room. He hated feeling like this, and loved it all once.
This wasn’t him.
He didn’t get nervous.
He handled things.
Nothing rattled his cage.
He was so farkled; he’d known it since he’d first spoken with the Jedi Master.
Cas had been even stranger back then; slowly loosening up over the past year.
Taking Anna on as a Padawan had probably helped. Then there was Dean’s inability to back-off and leave him to his meditations.
Dean had never been able to confirm or deny his suspicions, but he was pretty sure Cas had spent a long time alone prior to returning to the temple. He’d been on a deep cover mission, doing the force knows what.
He had come back lacking certain social skills.
Or maybe that was just Cas being Cas.
Whatever the reasons, gradually he’d become more of a people person; Dean liked to think he had something to do with that.
They’d arranged to meet, and practice their lightsaber techniques. And this time they’d be alone, no Padawan’s watching.
After a month of the Jedi Master avoiding him it was a nice change of pace.
His stomach did that odd lurching as he rounded the last corner and entered the room.
It was a simple set up. A large mat covered most of the floor to protect against injury, light blue walls, a bench to sit on, and one giant window that gave you an amazing view of the city.
It was dark out, and flickering lights in every color imaginable could be seen reflecting off the glass.
Some might think it was breathtaking; but Dean’s eyes were drawn immediately to the man in the left hand corner of the room.
Castiel had started training without him.
He was always early, never late - the punctual one.
While Dean couldn’t be on time to save his life.
And right now, he had never been so glad to have made a late entrance.
The Jedi master was balancing on one arm, his eyes closed, his legs straight up in the air, while his lightsaber hung suspended at chest level - floating.
His tunic had slipped down slightly, and his stomach muscles were exposed just enough for Dean to notice the curve of his hips, and the definition across his abdomen.
Damn. Now that was a view.
He said nothing, just sat down on the mat near Cas, cross-legged, and breathed deeply. He knew Cas was aware of his presence, and it was a comfortable silence as he watched his friend hold the pose for several more minutes.
His eyes kept ghosting over every feature. The point of his nose, the curve of his lips, how soft his hair looked, the dip in his neck. His lean body, even the arch of his naked feet as they dangled in the air.
Nope. Watching the Jedi wasn’t any hardship.
Even if the ache in his groin, and heat in his stomach disagreed. They wanted to be doing more than watching.
Patience, he told them.
Cas’s blue eyes opened; Dean smiled warmly, and gave a little wave.
Cas returned it with a slight twitch of his lips, as he returned to a sitting position.
“You are late,” he stated, no trace of annoyance in the words.
“Always.” Dean smirked, while pulling off his own boots.
Cas watched him; his own fingers playing with the hilt of his saber. “Was there anything specific you wanted to work on?”
Dean pulled his last boot off, and grinned. “You know me, I thought we’d just wing it.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Cas quipped, his eyes alive in a way Dean rarely saw, and he liked it.
There was a side to Cas that most didn’t even get a glimpse of, he kept everything hidden under a veneer of calm. Lately with Dean, that armor had been showing cracks.
Dean liked those moments.
Dean hopped up to his feet, and offered Cas a hand, not expecting him to take it.
Cas stared at his outstretched arm for a brief second, then he reached out.
Their hands clasped, and Dean pulled him to his feet. They stood there for longer than was appropriate, hands intertwined, watching each other before Cas let his hand fall away.
His face was unreadable as he activated his practice saber; bright blue light erupted out.
Dean grinned, and did the same. His was green.
It was time to dance.
They struck at the same time, saber’s clashing. Dean felt his adrenaline surge, as they spun around each other.
Their weapons met strike for strike.
Dean swung low, Cas blocked, returning with a blow aimed for Dean’s ribs. Dean side-stepped and blocked. Cas expected that, and his saber was already swinging again, coming at Dean’s other side.
Dean somersaulted out of the way, and dove at Cas, trying to find an opening.
Cas leapt over him.
Dean dodged left, and attempted to catch Cas in the leg. The Jedi escaped, and darted out of range again.
They watched each other, circling almost playfully; Cas’s blue orbs were bright, his lips stuck in a ghost of smile.
Both were breathing hard; sweat had formed on Dean’s back.
Cas caught him off guard by sweeping his leg out. Dean almost slipped away, but Cas caught his ankle and he stumbled.
Dean landed flat on his back, but reacted quickly enough to bring his lightsaber up to block the next blow that was coming for his head.
Their sabers clashed.
Dean laughed, and kicked out, catching the Jedi Master’s legs with this, and tripping him.
Cas fell on top of him, and Dean tried to put him in a choke hold.
Cas was too fast, with a twist and a roll he soon had Dean pinned - a lightsaber flush with his neck. It was only a breath away from touching his exposed throat.
Dean laid still, his own saber pointed at Cas’s abdomen - Cas glanced down at the green blade - then back up at Dean’s face, his eyes amused as he straddled the other Jedi.
“Guess were both dead.” He grinned while he stared up at the Jedi Master.
Dean didn’t move and neither did his opponent, they watched each other, both breathing deeply.
He could feel Cas’s body against his, the warmth, the thin layer of sweat coating his skin.
The heat down below was growing steadily, making him more daring - more reckless.
Dean turned off his saber, and laid it down on the floor.
His hands moved of their own accord and ran up Cas’s thighs at a languid pace, coming to rest on his hip bones -testing the waters. He played with the thin fabric, watching Cas carefully.
Cas didn’t move, he swallowed, his face a mask. He still hadn’t pulled the saber from its position near Dean’s throat.
That probably should have discouraged Dean, but he wasn’t worried. Cas wouldn’t hurt him, well, nothing that would do permanent damage anyway.
Dean shifted his hips, and shuddered as his half-hard cock brushed against Cas’s ass.
Cas’s mask broke, he inhaled, his eyes widened, his pupils dilated - but he still didn’t move.
Dean knew he was insane. They were in the Jedi Temple, anyone could walk in - yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
Cas was here, he was on top of him, and he wasn’t running.
His hormones didn’t care about reason right now.
He slid his fingers up Cas’s tunic, finding bare flesh, and tracing patterns in the lean muscle he felt.
Cas shuddered, his eyes closing slightly.
Dean wondered if anyone had ever touched the Jedi Master like this - his gut told him no.
He went slow, taking his time as his fingers explored the smooth skin. Giving Cas plenty of time to tell him to stop, to tell him no.
Cas said nothing.
Dean pulled his hands out from under Castiel’s shirt and brought them up, catching Cas’s hands with his, and guiding the saber away.
Cas let him.
He tossed it aside, kissing Cas’s finger’s tenderly, watching his face.
Cas’s eyes closed again; his jaw relaxed.
Dean took that as permission to keep going.
He moved his hands back under the man’s shirt, running his hands up his back, just touching Cas.
Cas’s head leaned back slightly and he made a small contented sound.
Dean smiled, his fingers traveling over the warm flesh above him for awhile.
“Cas,” he whispered, desire, and heat made his voice a growl.
Cas’s eyes opened; he felt his friend tense, saw the guilt and shame pass over his face as reality came crashing down over the Jedi.
Damn.
“This is-I can‘t-I have to go…now,” Cas sputtered, his words coming out fast, his face flushed, his tone bordering on panicked. As Cas shifted to climb off of him Dean felt a hardness brush against him, and he knew he wasn’t the only one that had been aroused.
And he knew how seriously Cas took his vows.
You. Idiot.
Cas wasn’t ready - he might have felt something - but he wasn’t ready.
Especially not here, not now.
You just had to try and seduce him in the Jedi Temple didn‘t you Dean! IDIOT,’ he mentally berated himself.
Through the force he could feel the turmoil flowing around his friend.
A friend he had probably just lost because he couldn’t control himself.
And how much that line of thinking bothered him was unexpected.
Cas was important to him, more than he’d realized. While he had been spending so much time trying to get under Cas’s skin, the Jedi had gotten under his as well.
He didn’t want to lose this.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted, surprised at his own admission, surprised at how easily the words had fallen from his lips. “I’m sorry, Cas.”
Cas froze while holstering his saber. He sat there breathing rapidly for a minute, staring at the floor.
Dean didn’t move, didn’t try to touch him - he waited.
Cas shook his head, and gave him a weary, conflicted, glance. “Are you still joining me and Anna tomorrow?” he asked, his tone surprisingly calm again considering the situation, even though Dean could still see the storm in his blue eyes.
His heart jumped - just maybe Cas didn’t want to lose this either.
He’d had plans to assist Cas in Anna’s training in the afternoon; she was struggling with balance. Cas had wanted to show her some techniques using Dean as a partner to demonstrate them.
Dean managed to smile. “I‘d like that.”
Cas nodded, his posture still stiff, but he hadn’t run away. “Me too,” he whispered.
“Is it okay if I walk you out?” he tried, uncertain.
Cas stared at him, his lips pressed into a thin line as he took a deep breath, and nodded.
Dean put his shoes back on, and walked with Cas towards the exit of the temple.
He allowed himself to hope that maybe there was still a chance this might work out after all.
Cas was still here.
He just needed to be patient.
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are always loved; it's nice to know if someone enjoys this :)
Author: nicole9514
Rating: R
Genre: AU, Fusion w/Star Wars, action, romance
Pairing: Dean/Castiel ( blatant pre-slash bordering on almost full-on slash)
Spoilers: None
A/N: This fic takes place in my recently created Jedi!verse series of fics - where both Dean and Castiel are Jedi - with a dangerous attraction to each other.
Summary: His tunic had slipped down slightly, and his stomach muscles were exposed just enough for Dean to notice the curve of his hips, and the definition across his abdomen. Damn. Now that was a view.
Word Count: 1,869
New to the series; here's a Link to the Masterpost
Dean’s heart was tripping over itself as he headed towards the training room. He hated feeling like this, and loved it all once.
This wasn’t him.
He didn’t get nervous.
He handled things.
Nothing rattled his cage.
He was so farkled; he’d known it since he’d first spoken with the Jedi Master.
Cas had been even stranger back then; slowly loosening up over the past year.
Taking Anna on as a Padawan had probably helped. Then there was Dean’s inability to back-off and leave him to his meditations.
Dean had never been able to confirm or deny his suspicions, but he was pretty sure Cas had spent a long time alone prior to returning to the temple. He’d been on a deep cover mission, doing the force knows what.
He had come back lacking certain social skills.
Or maybe that was just Cas being Cas.
Whatever the reasons, gradually he’d become more of a people person; Dean liked to think he had something to do with that.
They’d arranged to meet, and practice their lightsaber techniques. And this time they’d be alone, no Padawan’s watching.
After a month of the Jedi Master avoiding him it was a nice change of pace.
His stomach did that odd lurching as he rounded the last corner and entered the room.
It was a simple set up. A large mat covered most of the floor to protect against injury, light blue walls, a bench to sit on, and one giant window that gave you an amazing view of the city.
It was dark out, and flickering lights in every color imaginable could be seen reflecting off the glass.
Some might think it was breathtaking; but Dean’s eyes were drawn immediately to the man in the left hand corner of the room.
Castiel had started training without him.
He was always early, never late - the punctual one.
While Dean couldn’t be on time to save his life.
And right now, he had never been so glad to have made a late entrance.
The Jedi master was balancing on one arm, his eyes closed, his legs straight up in the air, while his lightsaber hung suspended at chest level - floating.
His tunic had slipped down slightly, and his stomach muscles were exposed just enough for Dean to notice the curve of his hips, and the definition across his abdomen.
Damn. Now that was a view.
He said nothing, just sat down on the mat near Cas, cross-legged, and breathed deeply. He knew Cas was aware of his presence, and it was a comfortable silence as he watched his friend hold the pose for several more minutes.
His eyes kept ghosting over every feature. The point of his nose, the curve of his lips, how soft his hair looked, the dip in his neck. His lean body, even the arch of his naked feet as they dangled in the air.
Nope. Watching the Jedi wasn’t any hardship.
Even if the ache in his groin, and heat in his stomach disagreed. They wanted to be doing more than watching.
Patience, he told them.
Cas’s blue eyes opened; Dean smiled warmly, and gave a little wave.
Cas returned it with a slight twitch of his lips, as he returned to a sitting position.
“You are late,” he stated, no trace of annoyance in the words.
“Always.” Dean smirked, while pulling off his own boots.
Cas watched him; his own fingers playing with the hilt of his saber. “Was there anything specific you wanted to work on?”
Dean pulled his last boot off, and grinned. “You know me, I thought we’d just wing it.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Cas quipped, his eyes alive in a way Dean rarely saw, and he liked it.
There was a side to Cas that most didn’t even get a glimpse of, he kept everything hidden under a veneer of calm. Lately with Dean, that armor had been showing cracks.
Dean liked those moments.
Dean hopped up to his feet, and offered Cas a hand, not expecting him to take it.
Cas stared at his outstretched arm for a brief second, then he reached out.
Their hands clasped, and Dean pulled him to his feet. They stood there for longer than was appropriate, hands intertwined, watching each other before Cas let his hand fall away.
His face was unreadable as he activated his practice saber; bright blue light erupted out.
Dean grinned, and did the same. His was green.
It was time to dance.
They struck at the same time, saber’s clashing. Dean felt his adrenaline surge, as they spun around each other.
Their weapons met strike for strike.
Dean swung low, Cas blocked, returning with a blow aimed for Dean’s ribs. Dean side-stepped and blocked. Cas expected that, and his saber was already swinging again, coming at Dean’s other side.
Dean somersaulted out of the way, and dove at Cas, trying to find an opening.
Cas leapt over him.
Dean dodged left, and attempted to catch Cas in the leg. The Jedi escaped, and darted out of range again.
They watched each other, circling almost playfully; Cas’s blue orbs were bright, his lips stuck in a ghost of smile.
Both were breathing hard; sweat had formed on Dean’s back.
Cas caught him off guard by sweeping his leg out. Dean almost slipped away, but Cas caught his ankle and he stumbled.
Dean landed flat on his back, but reacted quickly enough to bring his lightsaber up to block the next blow that was coming for his head.
Their sabers clashed.
Dean laughed, and kicked out, catching the Jedi Master’s legs with this, and tripping him.
Cas fell on top of him, and Dean tried to put him in a choke hold.
Cas was too fast, with a twist and a roll he soon had Dean pinned - a lightsaber flush with his neck. It was only a breath away from touching his exposed throat.
Dean laid still, his own saber pointed at Cas’s abdomen - Cas glanced down at the green blade - then back up at Dean’s face, his eyes amused as he straddled the other Jedi.
“Guess were both dead.” He grinned while he stared up at the Jedi Master.
Dean didn’t move and neither did his opponent, they watched each other, both breathing deeply.
He could feel Cas’s body against his, the warmth, the thin layer of sweat coating his skin.
The heat down below was growing steadily, making him more daring - more reckless.
Dean turned off his saber, and laid it down on the floor.
His hands moved of their own accord and ran up Cas’s thighs at a languid pace, coming to rest on his hip bones -testing the waters. He played with the thin fabric, watching Cas carefully.
Cas didn’t move, he swallowed, his face a mask. He still hadn’t pulled the saber from its position near Dean’s throat.
That probably should have discouraged Dean, but he wasn’t worried. Cas wouldn’t hurt him, well, nothing that would do permanent damage anyway.
Dean shifted his hips, and shuddered as his half-hard cock brushed against Cas’s ass.
Cas’s mask broke, he inhaled, his eyes widened, his pupils dilated - but he still didn’t move.
Dean knew he was insane. They were in the Jedi Temple, anyone could walk in - yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
Cas was here, he was on top of him, and he wasn’t running.
His hormones didn’t care about reason right now.
He slid his fingers up Cas’s tunic, finding bare flesh, and tracing patterns in the lean muscle he felt.
Cas shuddered, his eyes closing slightly.
Dean wondered if anyone had ever touched the Jedi Master like this - his gut told him no.
He went slow, taking his time as his fingers explored the smooth skin. Giving Cas plenty of time to tell him to stop, to tell him no.
Cas said nothing.
Dean pulled his hands out from under Castiel’s shirt and brought them up, catching Cas’s hands with his, and guiding the saber away.
Cas let him.
He tossed it aside, kissing Cas’s finger’s tenderly, watching his face.
Cas’s eyes closed again; his jaw relaxed.
Dean took that as permission to keep going.
He moved his hands back under the man’s shirt, running his hands up his back, just touching Cas.
Cas’s head leaned back slightly and he made a small contented sound.
Dean smiled, his fingers traveling over the warm flesh above him for awhile.
“Cas,” he whispered, desire, and heat made his voice a growl.
Cas’s eyes opened; he felt his friend tense, saw the guilt and shame pass over his face as reality came crashing down over the Jedi.
Damn.
“This is-I can‘t-I have to go…now,” Cas sputtered, his words coming out fast, his face flushed, his tone bordering on panicked. As Cas shifted to climb off of him Dean felt a hardness brush against him, and he knew he wasn’t the only one that had been aroused.
And he knew how seriously Cas took his vows.
You. Idiot.
Cas wasn’t ready - he might have felt something - but he wasn’t ready.
Especially not here, not now.
You just had to try and seduce him in the Jedi Temple didn‘t you Dean! IDIOT,’ he mentally berated himself.
Through the force he could feel the turmoil flowing around his friend.
A friend he had probably just lost because he couldn’t control himself.
And how much that line of thinking bothered him was unexpected.
Cas was important to him, more than he’d realized. While he had been spending so much time trying to get under Cas’s skin, the Jedi had gotten under his as well.
He didn’t want to lose this.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted, surprised at his own admission, surprised at how easily the words had fallen from his lips. “I’m sorry, Cas.”
Cas froze while holstering his saber. He sat there breathing rapidly for a minute, staring at the floor.
Dean didn’t move, didn’t try to touch him - he waited.
Cas shook his head, and gave him a weary, conflicted, glance. “Are you still joining me and Anna tomorrow?” he asked, his tone surprisingly calm again considering the situation, even though Dean could still see the storm in his blue eyes.
His heart jumped - just maybe Cas didn’t want to lose this either.
He’d had plans to assist Cas in Anna’s training in the afternoon; she was struggling with balance. Cas had wanted to show her some techniques using Dean as a partner to demonstrate them.
Dean managed to smile. “I‘d like that.”
Cas nodded, his posture still stiff, but he hadn’t run away. “Me too,” he whispered.
“Is it okay if I walk you out?” he tried, uncertain.
Cas stared at him, his lips pressed into a thin line as he took a deep breath, and nodded.
Dean put his shoes back on, and walked with Cas towards the exit of the temple.
He allowed himself to hope that maybe there was still a chance this might work out after all.
Cas was still here.
He just needed to be patient.
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are always loved; it's nice to know if someone enjoys this :)