Why Don't You Stay? (1/4) [Chuck/Cas]
Title: Why Don't You Stay?
Author:casiedearestfic
Pairing: Chuck/Cas
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Words: 8,300
Summary: Chuck and Castiel have become very good friends. Eventually, the lines between 'just friends' and 'something more' become blurred.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys. All characters belong to respective copyrights.
Notes: So, I'm SUCH a Dean/Cas shipper, it took months for my friend to convince me that Sam/Cas slash wasn't the end of the world. So this one snuck up on me. I have never read Castiel with anyone who isn't a Winchester, and I've never written him with anyone other than Dean. So, I apologize if there seems to be a case of Jealous!Dean here. I think I may have dreamed this, because I litterally woke up with this on my mind, sat down, and it wrote itself completely. This story is my baby, I love it, and I kind of want to hug and kiss it. Title from the song 'Stay' by Sugarland, which is an unrelated song, but I listened to it about 30 times while I wrote this, so forgive me.
Chuck had changed, and he was begining to realize it. He smiled a little more. He laughed a little more. He cared a little more. His life, well, it still kinda sucked. But it maybe sucked a little less now. He was making efforts that he hadn't even considered since high school. He felt a spark somewhere inside him, and he wasn't exactly sure what it was. He was sure, however, where it had come from.
Three months ago, Sam and Dean had paid him a visit. That alone was pleasant enough. They didn't come because they needed anything from him. They just showed up. They stayed for a few drinks, and it was nice. Even nicer, though, was who they brought with them. Castiel. Chuck had immediately disliked him. He wasn't sure what it was about him, but he was kind of ...intense. He was awkward and unusual and terribly abrupt. Eventually though, after a few shots of Jack, Chuck started to change his mind. He began to think that his awkwardness was endearing, and everything else...well...everything else about him was a complete mirror of himself. Okay, awkwardness included. And that, Chuck decided, was why he had disliked him. But, he couldn't deny that it was sort of nice to be around someone so simmilar to himself, as rare as that was.
When the Winchesters decided it was time to leave, Chuck all but begged for them to come back and visit more often. Dean seemed hesitant to make promises, but Sam was all heart. And please, please bring your friend! He didn't say the words out loud, but he was sure that, somehow, Sam got it. He spent the rest of that night alone on his couch, kicking himself over being so pushy and dramatic. His efforts paid off, though, when the boys kept to their word. They kept coming around, bringing Castiel with them, and those visits became more and more frequent. Eventually, a couple hours started turning into a full day. And sometimes, the days would bleed into nights, and Dean and Sam would fall asleep in random places around the house. Chuck had never been good with sleeping. Well, not during the night, anyhow. And since Cas didn't sleep at all, they spent a lot of time talking.
At first, most of their discussions were about Sam and Dean, since that was the only thing the two had in common. The Winchesters were the middle ground, always a good topic to break the silence with. But eventually, Castiel started to become more comfortable with Chuck, and didn't hold back the questions he wanted to ask. His inquiries ranged from absolutely ridiculous (Why are alcohol bottles always made out of glass?), to a little too intense for Chuck's liking (Where are your parents?). Despite some rough patches, their conversations usually went smoothly. After the brothers fell asleep, Chuck and Cas would always be drawn to each other like magnets. They would close themselves off in a corner or a staircase, talking in hushed voices, and by the end of the first month, Chuck was sure he had told Castiel his entire life story. That scared him, for a while, when he realized that no one else in the world knew as much about Chuck Shurley as Castiel did. He wasn't used to telling the story of himself. And sometimes, he felt uncomfortable about it.
His regret always melted away, though, when Castiel would give him a knowing smile at exactly the right time, or change the subject of conversation when someone else brought up a sore spot. He hadn't had a true friend in years, and for a while, he didn't think he missed it. But once he found Cas, or rather, Cas found him, he was sure that he couldn't live without him.
He struggled to hide his ecstasy when Sam called him one day, asking if it was cool to give Cas his phone number. Chuck agreed immediately, but Sam still felt the need to explain.
"He's totally moping, dude. He's been asking about you all day. I think he misses you." Sam was chuckling softly on the other end of the line, and Chuck bit back a smile.
Their friendship had grown steadily after that. They spent at least an hour on the phone every day, and when they couldn't do that, they would text. When the brothers came to visit, Chuck and Cas would steal away into the backyard sometimes, speaking quietly. Sometimes, though, they wouldn't have much to say. They found that talking on the phone all day left very little to talk about in person. It didn't matter to either of them, though, because the silence was comfortable too.
Dean embarrassed them both sometimes by making awkward comments about their relationship. Come on Cas, gotta go, say goodnight to your boyfriend. But Chuck didn't let it bother him. He knew he wasn't gay, and Castiel was...an angel. He was aware that they had become rather dependant on each other, and would both suffer a miniature heartbreak when they couldn't speak to each other for a day. But even so, they were just friends.
That had been the progression of the last three months, and it's what caused Chuck to make some changes to his life. He kept his house cleaner, keeping in mind that Sam and Dean were always likely to drop onto his doorstep at any moment. He kept food in his fridge, and made an effort not to look homeless, although sometimes...he still failed at that last part. Rome wasn't built in a day.
None of it mattered though, because the Winchesters were starting to genuinely like his company. Sam had told him so on a particularly drunken night. For a while, he had trouble believing it. He was always sort of expecting them to come up with a plea for some huge favor, or admit that they had done something terrible. But that moment never came, and now he knew them well enough to trust them.
He was stacking some papers when a loud knock startled him, sending them flying around the room. Worse than when he started. He cursed to himself silently while heading to the door. He didn't even get the chance to open it, since Dean was already pushing himself into the house.
"Hey man, your house has been hit by a tornado, just though you should know." He said easily, eyeing the mess of papers while lifting a bottle of whiskey. Dean was already pushing past him, heading to the overstuffed chair, where he would probably spend the rest of the night. Sam was less boisterous, actually waiting by the door to be invited in. Cas, conversely, was not so patient. He pushed Sam into the house, following quickly. He closed the door behind him before turning to hug Chuck. Sam grinned, always struck by how weird that sight was. When he thought about it, though, there really wasn't one single thing that was weird about it. It was more the actual motion of it. Cas wasn't someone who expressed care freely, and Sam wasn't even sure if Castiel really knew how to care. The longer he thought about it, the more he thought the same could be applied to Chuck. But, when it came to their friendship, boundaries were broken, and lines were blurred, and Sam couldn't do anything but turn away to join Dean in the living room.
The night was very typical. Chuck never had any news, so Sam and Dean supplied stories of their most recent hunts, sometimes repeating things they had already spoken about, but Chuck never stopped them. Then they would laugh over Sam's drunken clumsiness, and fuss over picking up the pieces of a broken something. Once the alcohol settled in their systems, the laughing would eventually stop, and Dean's angst would be next on the bill. Always, around one in the morning, Dean would wallow in self pity and hatred, and eventually fall asleep with a frown on his face. It had been painful for Chuck to witness the first few times, but eventually, he realized that its just the way Dean is. He would always wake up the next morning, either completely forgetting the whole ordeal, or just plainly not caring. So, the three men would sit there, listening to Dean's ramblings, until he passed out, curled up in the chair. And tonight was no different.
Sam dozed off soon after, slumped on the corner of the couch. Chuck lunged to catch the glass that slipped out of Sam's hand, barely stopping it from hitting the floor. Castiel grinned at this, always thinking that Sam was hilarious when drunk and tired.
To the Winchesters, their visits to Chuck started and ended with boozy conversation. They were unaware of what went on after they fell asleep. Chuck and Cas always crept around them, picking up empty glasses and wiping up spills. Occasionally, Chuck would sweep up dirt from the floor under Dean's boots, and Cas would cap up all the bottles and put them in the fridge. They would walk around the house in silence, turning off the music and most of the lights. Sam and Dean didn't realize that they were usually the tornado that swept through Chuck's house.
Once Chuck was confident that his house wasn't about to burn down, he and Cas would silently retreat. At first, they always stayed in the house, both uncomfortable at the thought of leaving the brothers completely alone. They stayed in the living room for the first week or so, moving to the chair in the corner. Then they moved out to the kitchen, sitting at Chuck's small table, before they decided to spread out even further. A few times, they had decided to go upstairs. The first time, though, Chuck had been too drunk to make it all the way up, and had sat heavily right in the middle of the staircase. Cas sat with him, not bothering to push him the rest of the way up. The middle of the staircase was just as good a place as any.
But, eventually, the starry night sky began to beckon them, and sometime, maybe a couple of weeks ago, they started sitting outside. They would sometimes lay on the grass, and let the silence linger for hours. Other times, though, they wouldn't even stop talking long enough to be bothered to sit down at all. Chuck was absolutely amazed that first day after they literally stood in his back yard, and talked for six hours straight.
Tonight was one of the nights they went outside. After Cas had capped the last bottle, Chuck made his way out the back door, stumbling slightly, with Castiel closely following. Chuck landed himself heavily onto the grass, leaning back against his hands. Castiel sat down much more gracefully, but eventually ended up mirroring Chuck's pose completely.
"Is he gonna be okay, you think?" Chuck turned toward his friend, the memories of Dean's self-destruct mode playing in his head.
"Yes, I believe so." Cas stated easily. Chuck took his word for it, knowing that Castiel knew Dean much better than he did.
Chuck pulled his hands out from under him, letting himself fall back against the warm grass. He fell a little too quickly, knocking the wind out of his lungs momentarily, dragging a sound of pain from his throat. Cas shot his hand over, putting it on Chuck's chest.
"Chuck." Castiel's voice was stern. "Please be careful."
That had been the extent of their conversation that night, since Chuck passed out quickly after that moment. Sam was the first to wake up in the morning, and he had come up empty handed in a search through the house, looking for Chuck and Cas. It took him almost a full half hour to think about checking outside. And when he finally did, he was relieved. He looked through the window of the back door, seeing Chuck sprawled out on the grass, sleeping deeply. And Cas, although he was wide awake, was laying right beside him, hands folded on his chest. Sam opened the door quietly, stepping out onto the grass. Cas didn't move, but he rolled his eyes up, getting some sort of upside down vision of the youngest Winchester.
"Come on Cas, we should get going." Sam whispered, knowing that Chuck rarely slept. When he did, it was best to let him have the rest. Cas pushed himself up on his elbows, looking over at Chuck's sleeping body. He studied him for a minute before turning back to Sam, shaking his head.
"I'd like to stay with Chuck until he wakes, if that is alright with you." Cas kept his own voice quiet too.
Sam looked down at Chuck, not seeing any sign that he would be waking up any time soon. He couldn't be bothered to try to change Castiel's mind though. So, he nodded, and slowly turned back toward the house. After he stepped back inside, he closed the door behind him, taking one last look at the scene in the back yard. Castiel was laying on his side now, arm folded up under his head. He was watching Chuck carefully, preciously, and Sam knew that those last remaining boundaries and lines would soon be broken and blurred.
Part Two
Author:casiedearestfic
Pairing: Chuck/Cas
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Words: 8,300
Summary: Chuck and Castiel have become very good friends. Eventually, the lines between 'just friends' and 'something more' become blurred.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys. All characters belong to respective copyrights.
Notes: So, I'm SUCH a Dean/Cas shipper, it took months for my friend to convince me that Sam/Cas slash wasn't the end of the world. So this one snuck up on me. I have never read Castiel with anyone who isn't a Winchester, and I've never written him with anyone other than Dean. So, I apologize if there seems to be a case of Jealous!Dean here. I think I may have dreamed this, because I litterally woke up with this on my mind, sat down, and it wrote itself completely. This story is my baby, I love it, and I kind of want to hug and kiss it. Title from the song 'Stay' by Sugarland, which is an unrelated song, but I listened to it about 30 times while I wrote this, so forgive me.
Chuck had changed, and he was begining to realize it. He smiled a little more. He laughed a little more. He cared a little more. His life, well, it still kinda sucked. But it maybe sucked a little less now. He was making efforts that he hadn't even considered since high school. He felt a spark somewhere inside him, and he wasn't exactly sure what it was. He was sure, however, where it had come from.
Three months ago, Sam and Dean had paid him a visit. That alone was pleasant enough. They didn't come because they needed anything from him. They just showed up. They stayed for a few drinks, and it was nice. Even nicer, though, was who they brought with them. Castiel. Chuck had immediately disliked him. He wasn't sure what it was about him, but he was kind of ...intense. He was awkward and unusual and terribly abrupt. Eventually though, after a few shots of Jack, Chuck started to change his mind. He began to think that his awkwardness was endearing, and everything else...well...everything else about him was a complete mirror of himself. Okay, awkwardness included. And that, Chuck decided, was why he had disliked him. But, he couldn't deny that it was sort of nice to be around someone so simmilar to himself, as rare as that was.
When the Winchesters decided it was time to leave, Chuck all but begged for them to come back and visit more often. Dean seemed hesitant to make promises, but Sam was all heart. And please, please bring your friend! He didn't say the words out loud, but he was sure that, somehow, Sam got it. He spent the rest of that night alone on his couch, kicking himself over being so pushy and dramatic. His efforts paid off, though, when the boys kept to their word. They kept coming around, bringing Castiel with them, and those visits became more and more frequent. Eventually, a couple hours started turning into a full day. And sometimes, the days would bleed into nights, and Dean and Sam would fall asleep in random places around the house. Chuck had never been good with sleeping. Well, not during the night, anyhow. And since Cas didn't sleep at all, they spent a lot of time talking.
At first, most of their discussions were about Sam and Dean, since that was the only thing the two had in common. The Winchesters were the middle ground, always a good topic to break the silence with. But eventually, Castiel started to become more comfortable with Chuck, and didn't hold back the questions he wanted to ask. His inquiries ranged from absolutely ridiculous (Why are alcohol bottles always made out of glass?), to a little too intense for Chuck's liking (Where are your parents?). Despite some rough patches, their conversations usually went smoothly. After the brothers fell asleep, Chuck and Cas would always be drawn to each other like magnets. They would close themselves off in a corner or a staircase, talking in hushed voices, and by the end of the first month, Chuck was sure he had told Castiel his entire life story. That scared him, for a while, when he realized that no one else in the world knew as much about Chuck Shurley as Castiel did. He wasn't used to telling the story of himself. And sometimes, he felt uncomfortable about it.
His regret always melted away, though, when Castiel would give him a knowing smile at exactly the right time, or change the subject of conversation when someone else brought up a sore spot. He hadn't had a true friend in years, and for a while, he didn't think he missed it. But once he found Cas, or rather, Cas found him, he was sure that he couldn't live without him.
He struggled to hide his ecstasy when Sam called him one day, asking if it was cool to give Cas his phone number. Chuck agreed immediately, but Sam still felt the need to explain.
"He's totally moping, dude. He's been asking about you all day. I think he misses you." Sam was chuckling softly on the other end of the line, and Chuck bit back a smile.
Their friendship had grown steadily after that. They spent at least an hour on the phone every day, and when they couldn't do that, they would text. When the brothers came to visit, Chuck and Cas would steal away into the backyard sometimes, speaking quietly. Sometimes, though, they wouldn't have much to say. They found that talking on the phone all day left very little to talk about in person. It didn't matter to either of them, though, because the silence was comfortable too.
Dean embarrassed them both sometimes by making awkward comments about their relationship. Come on Cas, gotta go, say goodnight to your boyfriend. But Chuck didn't let it bother him. He knew he wasn't gay, and Castiel was...an angel. He was aware that they had become rather dependant on each other, and would both suffer a miniature heartbreak when they couldn't speak to each other for a day. But even so, they were just friends.
That had been the progression of the last three months, and it's what caused Chuck to make some changes to his life. He kept his house cleaner, keeping in mind that Sam and Dean were always likely to drop onto his doorstep at any moment. He kept food in his fridge, and made an effort not to look homeless, although sometimes...he still failed at that last part. Rome wasn't built in a day.
None of it mattered though, because the Winchesters were starting to genuinely like his company. Sam had told him so on a particularly drunken night. For a while, he had trouble believing it. He was always sort of expecting them to come up with a plea for some huge favor, or admit that they had done something terrible. But that moment never came, and now he knew them well enough to trust them.
He was stacking some papers when a loud knock startled him, sending them flying around the room. Worse than when he started. He cursed to himself silently while heading to the door. He didn't even get the chance to open it, since Dean was already pushing himself into the house.
"Hey man, your house has been hit by a tornado, just though you should know." He said easily, eyeing the mess of papers while lifting a bottle of whiskey. Dean was already pushing past him, heading to the overstuffed chair, where he would probably spend the rest of the night. Sam was less boisterous, actually waiting by the door to be invited in. Cas, conversely, was not so patient. He pushed Sam into the house, following quickly. He closed the door behind him before turning to hug Chuck. Sam grinned, always struck by how weird that sight was. When he thought about it, though, there really wasn't one single thing that was weird about it. It was more the actual motion of it. Cas wasn't someone who expressed care freely, and Sam wasn't even sure if Castiel really knew how to care. The longer he thought about it, the more he thought the same could be applied to Chuck. But, when it came to their friendship, boundaries were broken, and lines were blurred, and Sam couldn't do anything but turn away to join Dean in the living room.
The night was very typical. Chuck never had any news, so Sam and Dean supplied stories of their most recent hunts, sometimes repeating things they had already spoken about, but Chuck never stopped them. Then they would laugh over Sam's drunken clumsiness, and fuss over picking up the pieces of a broken something. Once the alcohol settled in their systems, the laughing would eventually stop, and Dean's angst would be next on the bill. Always, around one in the morning, Dean would wallow in self pity and hatred, and eventually fall asleep with a frown on his face. It had been painful for Chuck to witness the first few times, but eventually, he realized that its just the way Dean is. He would always wake up the next morning, either completely forgetting the whole ordeal, or just plainly not caring. So, the three men would sit there, listening to Dean's ramblings, until he passed out, curled up in the chair. And tonight was no different.
Sam dozed off soon after, slumped on the corner of the couch. Chuck lunged to catch the glass that slipped out of Sam's hand, barely stopping it from hitting the floor. Castiel grinned at this, always thinking that Sam was hilarious when drunk and tired.
To the Winchesters, their visits to Chuck started and ended with boozy conversation. They were unaware of what went on after they fell asleep. Chuck and Cas always crept around them, picking up empty glasses and wiping up spills. Occasionally, Chuck would sweep up dirt from the floor under Dean's boots, and Cas would cap up all the bottles and put them in the fridge. They would walk around the house in silence, turning off the music and most of the lights. Sam and Dean didn't realize that they were usually the tornado that swept through Chuck's house.
Once Chuck was confident that his house wasn't about to burn down, he and Cas would silently retreat. At first, they always stayed in the house, both uncomfortable at the thought of leaving the brothers completely alone. They stayed in the living room for the first week or so, moving to the chair in the corner. Then they moved out to the kitchen, sitting at Chuck's small table, before they decided to spread out even further. A few times, they had decided to go upstairs. The first time, though, Chuck had been too drunk to make it all the way up, and had sat heavily right in the middle of the staircase. Cas sat with him, not bothering to push him the rest of the way up. The middle of the staircase was just as good a place as any.
But, eventually, the starry night sky began to beckon them, and sometime, maybe a couple of weeks ago, they started sitting outside. They would sometimes lay on the grass, and let the silence linger for hours. Other times, though, they wouldn't even stop talking long enough to be bothered to sit down at all. Chuck was absolutely amazed that first day after they literally stood in his back yard, and talked for six hours straight.
Tonight was one of the nights they went outside. After Cas had capped the last bottle, Chuck made his way out the back door, stumbling slightly, with Castiel closely following. Chuck landed himself heavily onto the grass, leaning back against his hands. Castiel sat down much more gracefully, but eventually ended up mirroring Chuck's pose completely.
"Is he gonna be okay, you think?" Chuck turned toward his friend, the memories of Dean's self-destruct mode playing in his head.
"Yes, I believe so." Cas stated easily. Chuck took his word for it, knowing that Castiel knew Dean much better than he did.
Chuck pulled his hands out from under him, letting himself fall back against the warm grass. He fell a little too quickly, knocking the wind out of his lungs momentarily, dragging a sound of pain from his throat. Cas shot his hand over, putting it on Chuck's chest.
"Chuck." Castiel's voice was stern. "Please be careful."
That had been the extent of their conversation that night, since Chuck passed out quickly after that moment. Sam was the first to wake up in the morning, and he had come up empty handed in a search through the house, looking for Chuck and Cas. It took him almost a full half hour to think about checking outside. And when he finally did, he was relieved. He looked through the window of the back door, seeing Chuck sprawled out on the grass, sleeping deeply. And Cas, although he was wide awake, was laying right beside him, hands folded on his chest. Sam opened the door quietly, stepping out onto the grass. Cas didn't move, but he rolled his eyes up, getting some sort of upside down vision of the youngest Winchester.
"Come on Cas, we should get going." Sam whispered, knowing that Chuck rarely slept. When he did, it was best to let him have the rest. Cas pushed himself up on his elbows, looking over at Chuck's sleeping body. He studied him for a minute before turning back to Sam, shaking his head.
"I'd like to stay with Chuck until he wakes, if that is alright with you." Cas kept his own voice quiet too.
Sam looked down at Chuck, not seeing any sign that he would be waking up any time soon. He couldn't be bothered to try to change Castiel's mind though. So, he nodded, and slowly turned back toward the house. After he stepped back inside, he closed the door behind him, taking one last look at the scene in the back yard. Castiel was laying on his side now, arm folded up under his head. He was watching Chuck carefully, preciously, and Sam knew that those last remaining boundaries and lines would soon be broken and blurred.
Part Two