dum di dum
Title: Waiting by the Sun
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Rating: PG12 for slash and bad language
Warnings: Ridiculously sappy. Like, bring your sick bucket sappy XD.
Originally from: Over here!
"What?" Dean Winchester said. Technically it was a question, but he knew full well he wasn't going to process any answer. Not really.
He didn't recognise the face or the huge fuck-off wings or, to be honest, the hugeness in general because humans didn't generally hit eight foot or more. But whatever this thing was, it recognised him. "If you expected Peter, I'm sorry. I called in an old favour to greet you first."
And again. "What?"
"This is my true form," it said, as if expecting him to see something familiar in eight foot of blindingly beautiful, four-winged not-quite-human. "It's me. Castiel."
"Holy -"
Castiel bent down slightly, pressed a finger to Dean's lips to shut him up before he could add another reason to the list for why he really ought to be somewhere, anywhere other than in front of the pearly gates.
And they certainly were pearly, pale and irridescent as if the bright lights everywhere were constantly finding new and exciting colours hidden in the bars. "I didn't - I didn't confess or anything. I smacked my nurse's ass every day. I don't -"
"You kept your soul and saved the world." Castiel tilted his head slightly and frowned. "You still don't believe -"
"And you waited for me?"
Castiel didn't get a chance to reply; Dean might not have been eight foot tall but six foot with two working arms was good enough to reach up, grab Castiel's shoulders, and pull him down to kiss. They weren't lips he recognised, weren't borrowed from a vessel, but they were still lips; and Castiel tasted of nothing but felt like everything, glorious and bright and warm, like bathing in sunshine with none of the burning.
So now he could add kissing an angel at the gates of Heaven to that list.
"Okay, um," Dean looked away and cleared his throat. "Sorry about -"
He couldn't honestly say he'd expected Castiel to pull him back into another kiss, but he wasn't about to turn his nose up at a happy surprise however it arrived.
"I would have waited if you lived to a hundred," Castiel said afterwards, running his hands through what was left of Dean's hair. He hadn't done badly for a guy in his seventies. "To know you myself. Through my own skin."
Dean definitely couldn't complain about the 'knowing' part either, hadn't thought he had that much stamina left in him, or that someone as tall as Castiel could be both graceful and gangly at the same time. Or that after seventy years on Earth it would be something in Heaven - or, technically, just outside Heaven - that wound up being the sexiest thing he'd ever see. Watching Castiel reach orgasm back on Earth had always undone Dean because no one else just gave into it as wholly as he used to; and it looked like in his true form he was little different.
It was only when Castiel's hands moved away from his hair to take his own he realised what else was happening here.
"Cas," Dean said, wondering how the hell he could say this without sounding ungrateful but figuring it had to be done. "Could you leave the scars this time? Not that I don't appreciate it -"
"I can take them later," Castiel replied, closing his hand over the old, old burn on Dean's shoulder. A perfect match, at last. "Or never. It's your choice."
"Not so used to having those," Dean said, grinning despite himself before looking back at the gates again, still not entirely believing they were real. "Just wondering though, can we -"
"Love is love, though we have no pay per view." Castiel smiled a little, and it was still all kinds of weird to think of Castiel as this white-on-white thing that looked part guy, part girl, but Dean figured he had plenty of time to get used to that. "We can look down on Earth, though," he added with a not entirely innocent expression.
Forty years away from him in Heaven, and Dean was still a bad influence.
So, alas, I only reached six this round unlike the eight of last round, but I'm really curious about a final prompt I'm working on just for the hell of it that seems to be turning into a full-on fic. And the way it's going, which is really weirdly, it could be one of the best or one of the worst things I've written. I'm kind of looking forward to proofreading it so I can finally look at it objectively and decide one way or the other which it is!
Looking forward to getting some actual sleep tonight though so I can finally catch up on comments again.
*hugs for all*
(And, again, apologies if I'm a bit away with the fairies for the next few weeks until I get this silly work thing sorted)
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Rating: PG12 for slash and bad language
Warnings: Ridiculously sappy. Like, bring your sick bucket sappy XD.
Originally from: Over here!
"What?" Dean Winchester said. Technically it was a question, but he knew full well he wasn't going to process any answer. Not really.
He didn't recognise the face or the huge fuck-off wings or, to be honest, the hugeness in general because humans didn't generally hit eight foot or more. But whatever this thing was, it recognised him. "If you expected Peter, I'm sorry. I called in an old favour to greet you first."
And again. "What?"
"This is my true form," it said, as if expecting him to see something familiar in eight foot of blindingly beautiful, four-winged not-quite-human. "It's me. Castiel."
"Holy -"
Castiel bent down slightly, pressed a finger to Dean's lips to shut him up before he could add another reason to the list for why he really ought to be somewhere, anywhere other than in front of the pearly gates.
And they certainly were pearly, pale and irridescent as if the bright lights everywhere were constantly finding new and exciting colours hidden in the bars. "I didn't - I didn't confess or anything. I smacked my nurse's ass every day. I don't -"
"You kept your soul and saved the world." Castiel tilted his head slightly and frowned. "You still don't believe -"
"And you waited for me?"
Castiel didn't get a chance to reply; Dean might not have been eight foot tall but six foot with two working arms was good enough to reach up, grab Castiel's shoulders, and pull him down to kiss. They weren't lips he recognised, weren't borrowed from a vessel, but they were still lips; and Castiel tasted of nothing but felt like everything, glorious and bright and warm, like bathing in sunshine with none of the burning.
So now he could add kissing an angel at the gates of Heaven to that list.
"Okay, um," Dean looked away and cleared his throat. "Sorry about -"
He couldn't honestly say he'd expected Castiel to pull him back into another kiss, but he wasn't about to turn his nose up at a happy surprise however it arrived.
"I would have waited if you lived to a hundred," Castiel said afterwards, running his hands through what was left of Dean's hair. He hadn't done badly for a guy in his seventies. "To know you myself. Through my own skin."
Dean definitely couldn't complain about the 'knowing' part either, hadn't thought he had that much stamina left in him, or that someone as tall as Castiel could be both graceful and gangly at the same time. Or that after seventy years on Earth it would be something in Heaven - or, technically, just outside Heaven - that wound up being the sexiest thing he'd ever see. Watching Castiel reach orgasm back on Earth had always undone Dean because no one else just gave into it as wholly as he used to; and it looked like in his true form he was little different.
It was only when Castiel's hands moved away from his hair to take his own he realised what else was happening here.
"Cas," Dean said, wondering how the hell he could say this without sounding ungrateful but figuring it had to be done. "Could you leave the scars this time? Not that I don't appreciate it -"
"I can take them later," Castiel replied, closing his hand over the old, old burn on Dean's shoulder. A perfect match, at last. "Or never. It's your choice."
"Not so used to having those," Dean said, grinning despite himself before looking back at the gates again, still not entirely believing they were real. "Just wondering though, can we -"
"Love is love, though we have no pay per view." Castiel smiled a little, and it was still all kinds of weird to think of Castiel as this white-on-white thing that looked part guy, part girl, but Dean figured he had plenty of time to get used to that. "We can look down on Earth, though," he added with a not entirely innocent expression.
Forty years away from him in Heaven, and Dean was still a bad influence.
So, alas, I only reached six this round unlike the eight of last round, but I'm really curious about a final prompt I'm working on just for the hell of it that seems to be turning into a full-on fic. And the way it's going, which is really weirdly, it could be one of the best or one of the worst things I've written. I'm kind of looking forward to proofreading it so I can finally look at it objectively and decide one way or the other which it is!
Looking forward to getting some actual sleep tonight though so I can finally catch up on comments again.
*hugs for all*
(And, again, apologies if I'm a bit away with the fairies for the next few weeks until I get this silly work thing sorted)