FIC: A Mighty Dark Night - Epilogue
Title: A Mighty Dark Night
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Word length: ~74,000
Warnings: violence, language and sex
Summary: Detective Dean Winchester meets Homeland Security Agent Castiel James over a corpse.
Epilogue
I'll never get out of your love alive
They got up each morning before the sun rose. It was colder in the the mountains, and they bundled up in flannel shirts and wool socks, workman's boots and barn jackets and jeans, and hiked in silence down the hill to the lake. Their boots clunked across the dock, stomp, stomp, stomp reverberating along the wood. Birds and frogs called sleepily to each other as they sat at the end of the dock, leaning against opposite posts, and cast their lines out into the lake.
Sometimes they caught something, and Cas would cook it after Dean cleaned and prepared it. They sat around their campfire at dusk in companionable silence and never talked about their feelings, though Dean certainly felt them. He couldn't believe he'd almost given this up, the calm assurance of knowing Cas had his back, the intensity of Cas's gaze, the warmth of his regard. It was heady and grounding at the same time, the contradiction finally making sense in Dean's mind only after everything they'd gone through.
They didn't talk about the past. No mention of Crowley and his manipulative ways; no dwelling on the deaths of Meg, Ruby, Lilith, Alistair and Lucifer; no tears over what became of Uriel or the murder of Rachel. Instead they talked about the future, tentatively at first, then with greater purpose as the days went on.
If waking up next to Cas at Bobby's had shown Dean a glimpse of what he could have, waking up together at the cabin began to fill in the blanks. They adapted easily to the shared space, moving in tandem as they dressed and headed down to the dock in the morning, returning sometime after sunrise for morning sex and a nap.
Some mornings Dean knelt on the wooden floor and took Cas into his mouth. He was growing to like it, mainly because of the way Cas cradled his head, his beautiful fingers carding through Dean's hair or gently coaxing his jaw to open wider, always with breathless encouragement and effusive praise as Dean swallowed him down. Cas always looked a little stunned afterwards and watched Dean move about the cabin on the most mundane tasks with awe in his eyes. It made Dean want to do it more, until no morning went by without Dean wrapping his lips around Cas's cock and sucking at the velvety soft skin along the shaft until Cas came in his mouth.
Lying in bed after their mid-morning nap was when they talked. Eventually they would have to go back to the District, and Cas needed to find another job.
"What else do you like to do?" Dean asked one morning, realizing he didn't know if Cas had any hobbies, other than chess.
Cas was quiet. His hair stuck up in sweaty tufts still from when he'd gone under the covers to wake Dean up by massaging Dean's prostate with his tongue. It had worked spectacularly well.
"I like protecting people," Cas said finally. "I don't want to do anything else."
"Really? No secret desire to travel the world, singing in karoke competitions?"
Cas looked startled for a moment, then smiled. "I sing off-key."
"Mmm. What about cooking? You make a mean charbroiled fish."
"That's about the only thing I can cook."
"I hate to break it to you, Cas, but I think you're fucked. It's law enforcement or fucking me, and I don't pay with money."
Cas raised his eyebrows. "I like the way you pay."
"Prove it."
Cas did have hobbies, of course, but as much as Dean enjoyed listening to Cas read him a book of Italian poetry, he didn't think 'poetry-reader' was a viable option for a career. No, Anna and the FBI was probably his best bet. Cas seemed to realize it, too, and made several calls to Gabriel and Balthazar, still friendly despite Cas's resignation, before taking a deep breath and calling Anna. Dean gave him his privacy for the phone call.
That night they went down to the dock in the pitch dark and spread their coats over the rough wood. They undressed slowly, shivering in the cool air. Dean pulled Cas on top of him and brushed his lips over Cas's collarbone and gently ran his tongue along the puckered skin where Lucifer's shiv had lodged in Cas's bicep. It was going to be a totally badass scar. Dean wanted to tattoo around it, some symbol that stood for protection and also conveyed that Cas was his and he'd break the face of anyone who dared try to hurt him ever again.
He didn't know a symbol for that which could be written on Cas's skin, but he knew one he could show Cas. He reached down and pulled Cas inside of him. He was loose and slick from the many times they'd done this over the past week. Cas settled fully into him with a contented sigh.
It was dark out, a nearly unbroken black, slightly overcast with a new moon in the sky. The dark night didn't bother Dean. He could feel Cas inside him, smell him all around him, hear his panting breaths. He propped himself up on one elbow and groaned at the change in angle. Cas was hitting his prostate on each thrust while raining kisses on every bit of Dean's skin he could reach. Dean could see the whites of his eyes, the glint of his teeth, the pale glow of his skin. Cas provided just enough light to see by during the deep dark of night.
Dean held on tight.
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Word length: ~74,000
Warnings: violence, language and sex
Summary: Detective Dean Winchester meets Homeland Security Agent Castiel James over a corpse.
Epilogue
I'll never get out of your love alive
They got up each morning before the sun rose. It was colder in the the mountains, and they bundled up in flannel shirts and wool socks, workman's boots and barn jackets and jeans, and hiked in silence down the hill to the lake. Their boots clunked across the dock, stomp, stomp, stomp reverberating along the wood. Birds and frogs called sleepily to each other as they sat at the end of the dock, leaning against opposite posts, and cast their lines out into the lake.
Sometimes they caught something, and Cas would cook it after Dean cleaned and prepared it. They sat around their campfire at dusk in companionable silence and never talked about their feelings, though Dean certainly felt them. He couldn't believe he'd almost given this up, the calm assurance of knowing Cas had his back, the intensity of Cas's gaze, the warmth of his regard. It was heady and grounding at the same time, the contradiction finally making sense in Dean's mind only after everything they'd gone through.
They didn't talk about the past. No mention of Crowley and his manipulative ways; no dwelling on the deaths of Meg, Ruby, Lilith, Alistair and Lucifer; no tears over what became of Uriel or the murder of Rachel. Instead they talked about the future, tentatively at first, then with greater purpose as the days went on.
If waking up next to Cas at Bobby's had shown Dean a glimpse of what he could have, waking up together at the cabin began to fill in the blanks. They adapted easily to the shared space, moving in tandem as they dressed and headed down to the dock in the morning, returning sometime after sunrise for morning sex and a nap.
Some mornings Dean knelt on the wooden floor and took Cas into his mouth. He was growing to like it, mainly because of the way Cas cradled his head, his beautiful fingers carding through Dean's hair or gently coaxing his jaw to open wider, always with breathless encouragement and effusive praise as Dean swallowed him down. Cas always looked a little stunned afterwards and watched Dean move about the cabin on the most mundane tasks with awe in his eyes. It made Dean want to do it more, until no morning went by without Dean wrapping his lips around Cas's cock and sucking at the velvety soft skin along the shaft until Cas came in his mouth.
Lying in bed after their mid-morning nap was when they talked. Eventually they would have to go back to the District, and Cas needed to find another job.
"What else do you like to do?" Dean asked one morning, realizing he didn't know if Cas had any hobbies, other than chess.
Cas was quiet. His hair stuck up in sweaty tufts still from when he'd gone under the covers to wake Dean up by massaging Dean's prostate with his tongue. It had worked spectacularly well.
"I like protecting people," Cas said finally. "I don't want to do anything else."
"Really? No secret desire to travel the world, singing in karoke competitions?"
Cas looked startled for a moment, then smiled. "I sing off-key."
"Mmm. What about cooking? You make a mean charbroiled fish."
"That's about the only thing I can cook."
"I hate to break it to you, Cas, but I think you're fucked. It's law enforcement or fucking me, and I don't pay with money."
Cas raised his eyebrows. "I like the way you pay."
"Prove it."
Cas did have hobbies, of course, but as much as Dean enjoyed listening to Cas read him a book of Italian poetry, he didn't think 'poetry-reader' was a viable option for a career. No, Anna and the FBI was probably his best bet. Cas seemed to realize it, too, and made several calls to Gabriel and Balthazar, still friendly despite Cas's resignation, before taking a deep breath and calling Anna. Dean gave him his privacy for the phone call.
That night they went down to the dock in the pitch dark and spread their coats over the rough wood. They undressed slowly, shivering in the cool air. Dean pulled Cas on top of him and brushed his lips over Cas's collarbone and gently ran his tongue along the puckered skin where Lucifer's shiv had lodged in Cas's bicep. It was going to be a totally badass scar. Dean wanted to tattoo around it, some symbol that stood for protection and also conveyed that Cas was his and he'd break the face of anyone who dared try to hurt him ever again.
He didn't know a symbol for that which could be written on Cas's skin, but he knew one he could show Cas. He reached down and pulled Cas inside of him. He was loose and slick from the many times they'd done this over the past week. Cas settled fully into him with a contented sigh.
It was dark out, a nearly unbroken black, slightly overcast with a new moon in the sky. The dark night didn't bother Dean. He could feel Cas inside him, smell him all around him, hear his panting breaths. He propped himself up on one elbow and groaned at the change in angle. Cas was hitting his prostate on each thrust while raining kisses on every bit of Dean's skin he could reach. Dean could see the whites of his eyes, the glint of his teeth, the pale glow of his skin. Cas provided just enough light to see by during the deep dark of night.
Dean held on tight.