Filled with Strawberry (Pie from heaven Above) [Supernatural - Pie!Fic - Dean + Castiel (Gen)]
Title: Filled with Strawberry (Pie from Heaven Above)
Summary: More pie, more conversation and an unexpected statement from a certain angel.
Rating: PG
Pairing: None.
Spoiler Warnings: Set post 4x10.
Disclaimer: Supernatural = not mine.
Notes: Well, some demanded it, and here it is - more pie!fic. Sequel to With Apple Pie. This is lighter in tone than the first. Also - if you're interested in the pie featured in this fic (which is a pie I happen to have made before) there's a good recipe for it here. Title (and pie) from the film 'Waitress'. (A film I believe would nearly kill Dean in the watching of it)
A few weeks pass before Castiel is back. He waits for Sam to leave, and Dean doesn't want to think about why he would do that, and knocks on the motel room door. The knock is more confident this time, if still a little odd in its rhythm, and Dean opens the door to a much less confused Castiel.
“Dean,” Castiel says, tilting his head to one side. His collar is still open at his throat and he has his trenchcoat slung over his arm. He looks more human.
“Castiel,” Dean nods and steps aside, making a space for Castiel pass. Dean hears the rustling of a plastic bag as the angel-in-human-clothing passes and barely suppresses a grin.
Castiel sets his bag on the table and drops his coat messily on the back of a chair. Dean does grin at that, noticing the ease with which Castiel completes his human tasks, and feels oddly proud.
“Looks like you're getting better at this human thing,” Dean says, crossing the room as Castiel hunts for forks in the kitchenette. Sam had complained that rooms with kitchens were too expensive but Dean had held out, without saying why, until Sam gave in. If this pie was anywhere near as good as the last then the extra expense would be totally worth it.
“I have been,” Castiel pauses and looks up at Dean, one fork hanging loosely from his hand, “studying.”
Dean laughs and drops onto a chair before lifting the piebox out of the bag. Castiel returns with a second fork clasped beside the first, not a matching pair, and hands one to Dean. Dean opens the box with a reverence akin to worship and breathes in the scent of freshly cooked pie. There's dark chocolate and sharp strawberries and something blessedly sweet.
“Oh my God,” he breathes then winces as his brain catches up with his mouth. “Sorry, dude.”
“I have come to realise,” Castiel says slowly, tiniest of frowns etched above his brow, “that of all the things I may wish you would not do - blasphemy is perhaps the lesser of several evils.”
Dean thinks that Castiel might be making a joke of some kind, but it's gone completely over his head if he is. Dean stares at the pie and feels Castiel watching him, waiting, but Dean's almost afraid to eat this pie - it looks too damned good to be true.
“So if blasphemy's at the bottom I guess all the wanton fornication is at the top,” Dean says, trying to settle on somewhere to the cut the pie. He risks a look at Castiel's face and catches something odd, odder than usual, in his expression. Whatever it is - it's not really something Dean wants to think about, he decides.
“If my Father,” Castiel speaks slowly again, like he's not sure of the response to whatever he's about to say, “had not intended for mortals to...enjoy the sexual act then he would not have made it possible for you to do so.”
Dean stares at Castiel open-mouthed, completely unable to disguise his shock and not really trying to anyway. Castiel looks back with his impossibly deep eyes that Dean can never read. Dean closes his mouth and pushes his thoughts together before trying to speak.
“Dude,” he manages finally, waving the fork through the air. “You gotta warn a guy when you're going to come out with something like that.”
“Is it not a satisfactory answer?” Castiel asks, tilting his head to one side in what Dean suddenly realises is an attempt to understand.
“It's definitely an answer,” Dean says, finally taking a chance and cutting into the pie. “Just, whoa, okay - I don't think the Church is ready to hear something like that.”
“Nevertheless,” Castiel says, leaning forward almost eagerly to cut into the pie himself. “It is a truth.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Dean says, smiling curling up his mouth. It's the last thing Dean says for a while when he finally gets some of the pie into his mouth. It's even better than it smells. Dean thinks this might be the closest he's ever come to orgasming over food. He tries to control himself; figuring that for all of Castiel's bizarre enlightenment over sex, he might not take kindly to Dean letting loose in his pants.
Castiel's eyes are closed and his face is incandescent, the hand with the fork hovering in mid-air, the other gripping slightly at the table. For a horrible moment Dean wonders if teaching Castiel about the 'pleasures' of being human might be a really, really bad idea. He doesn't want to be the one to make Cas Fall - though, he admits, this pie would be a good reason to take the trip.
“I did not think that the flavours would work so...well, together,” Castiel says when he opens his eyes.
“Strawberry and chocolate?” Dean asks, smiling through some inappropriate memories. “Oh, they go well together. Trust me.”
“How?” Castiel asks and Dean remembers too late Castiel's need to understand everything human. Dean feels a brief flush rising in his cheeks and shakes his head at himself - he hasn't blushed since he was a fumbling teen.
“Um, how about we save that one for another day,” Dean says, tucking in another mouthful of pie before Castiel can reply. Castiel's eyes narrow for a moment, as if he knows what Dean's hiding from him. Dean tries a winning smile; admittedly it's completely ruined by the chocolate sticking to his mouth, but it makes Castiel drop the question anyway.
Dean devotes his whole attention to the pie, noticing that Castiel is very carefully only eating half of it, and feels a comfortable silence descend over them. It gives him time to covertly check on Castiel - the uncertainty that haunted the angel last time they met seems to be gone, replaced with something smoother, more comfortable, and his vessel looks well. They haven't heard any news about the Seals for a few weeks and, although it makes Dean's skin crawl with apprehension, Dean hopes that the all quiet means good news, for once.
“We are worried that the demons are gathering for something,” Castiel says, as if reading Dean's mind and, hey, he probably is. That's a scary thought.
“They're always doing something,” Dean says, shrugging. He and Sam have enjoyed being able to get back to the business of hunting in the past few weeks - running down a few dangerous spirits and an irritable witch sure beats throwing themselves up against demons all the time.
“When it comes it will not be something easy to face,” Castiel says, his voice falling into its command tone. “I hope you will be ready.”
“Come on, Cas, I was born ready,” Dean says, extending his hands expansively. Castiel gives him the confused head tilt and Dean resists the urge to sigh, he guesses what comes next.
“You were but a child,” Castiel says, setting his fork down. “How would you be ready to face demons?”
“Just an expression, Cas,” Dean says, shaking his head. “Trust me - we'll be ready.”
Dean looks at the last forkful of pie and on impulse divides it pretty evenly. He pushes one piece over to Castiel's side of the box and shovels the other into his mouth. Castiel gives him an odd look and Dean simply gestures to the last bit of pie. Castiel takes it and savours it almost as much as Dean is. It makes Dean warm inside or, at least, he thinks it does - could be the angel making him feel like that.
Dean realises that he really has no idea what abilities Castiel has beyond turning up out of nowhere, sending him through time and fighting demons. He thinks maybe he'll ask about that next time as Castiel stands and reaches for his coat.
“Hang on,” Dean says, suddenly remembering the tie tucked into his jacket. Castiel pauses with the coat hanging from his hands like a lifeless piece of material. Dean jumps up and grabs his jacket from his bed and rifles through his pockets until his fingers find the tie.
“You forgot it,” Dean says, holding it out to Castiel. “Last time you, y'know, visited.”
Castiel looks down at the tie then reaches out to take it, holding the coat in one hand. Dean smiles at him encouragingly when he stares up at him. Castiel's fingers flex around the tie.
“I don't know -” Castiel makes a motion with his hand and Dean gets it.
“Right, of course you don't,” Dean says, shaking his head at himself. “They're a lot easier to get off than on.”
Dean steps forward and takes the tie from Castiel's hand. He presses his tongue against the back of his teeth for a moment, not used to tying ties from the front, but shrugs and reaches up anyway. He pushes Castiel's collar up, Castiel doesn't flinch away from his touch, just watching him curiously, and drops the tie in a loop over his head. Dean's hands brush over Castiel's hair as he brings them down to make sure the tie is the right length before smoothing the collar down. Castiel shivers and Dean looks down at the tie between his hands.
There's nothing about this that isn't weird, Dean thinks as his fingers quickly make a simple knot in the tie. It reminds him of a time when he had to teach Sammy how to tie a tie and brings a slight smile to his face. Dean smooths the tie and then straightens the lie of Castiel's jacket.
“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says and his breath ghosts across Dean's face, smelling of chocolate and strawberries and something blessed. Dean steps back and smiles.
“You need a hand with that coat as well?” Dean asks. Castiel looks from him to the coat and then smiles, light breaking across his face. Dean thinks that he must be doing something right - to get the angel to smile like that.
“This I can do,” Castiel says, swinging the coat around and pulling it on effortlessly. The smile stays in place as he briefly touches a hand to Dean's shoulder and is gone.
Dean tidies the pie things away, feeling something like deep contentment seeping deep into his bones, and allows another smile. If Castiel keeps bring pie like this Dean might have to admit to himself that he sort of likes Castiel too, when it comes down to it. And not just for his truly excellent taste in pie.
----
Part I: Apple Pie| Part III: Cherry Pie
Summary: More pie, more conversation and an unexpected statement from a certain angel.
Rating: PG
Pairing: None.
Spoiler Warnings: Set post 4x10.
Disclaimer: Supernatural = not mine.
Notes: Well, some demanded it, and here it is - more pie!fic. Sequel to With Apple Pie. This is lighter in tone than the first. Also - if you're interested in the pie featured in this fic (which is a pie I happen to have made before) there's a good recipe for it here. Title (and pie) from the film 'Waitress'. (A film I believe would nearly kill Dean in the watching of it)
A few weeks pass before Castiel is back. He waits for Sam to leave, and Dean doesn't want to think about why he would do that, and knocks on the motel room door. The knock is more confident this time, if still a little odd in its rhythm, and Dean opens the door to a much less confused Castiel.
“Dean,” Castiel says, tilting his head to one side. His collar is still open at his throat and he has his trenchcoat slung over his arm. He looks more human.
“Castiel,” Dean nods and steps aside, making a space for Castiel pass. Dean hears the rustling of a plastic bag as the angel-in-human-clothing passes and barely suppresses a grin.
Castiel sets his bag on the table and drops his coat messily on the back of a chair. Dean does grin at that, noticing the ease with which Castiel completes his human tasks, and feels oddly proud.
“Looks like you're getting better at this human thing,” Dean says, crossing the room as Castiel hunts for forks in the kitchenette. Sam had complained that rooms with kitchens were too expensive but Dean had held out, without saying why, until Sam gave in. If this pie was anywhere near as good as the last then the extra expense would be totally worth it.
“I have been,” Castiel pauses and looks up at Dean, one fork hanging loosely from his hand, “studying.”
Dean laughs and drops onto a chair before lifting the piebox out of the bag. Castiel returns with a second fork clasped beside the first, not a matching pair, and hands one to Dean. Dean opens the box with a reverence akin to worship and breathes in the scent of freshly cooked pie. There's dark chocolate and sharp strawberries and something blessedly sweet.
“Oh my God,” he breathes then winces as his brain catches up with his mouth. “Sorry, dude.”
“I have come to realise,” Castiel says slowly, tiniest of frowns etched above his brow, “that of all the things I may wish you would not do - blasphemy is perhaps the lesser of several evils.”
Dean thinks that Castiel might be making a joke of some kind, but it's gone completely over his head if he is. Dean stares at the pie and feels Castiel watching him, waiting, but Dean's almost afraid to eat this pie - it looks too damned good to be true.
“So if blasphemy's at the bottom I guess all the wanton fornication is at the top,” Dean says, trying to settle on somewhere to the cut the pie. He risks a look at Castiel's face and catches something odd, odder than usual, in his expression. Whatever it is - it's not really something Dean wants to think about, he decides.
“If my Father,” Castiel speaks slowly again, like he's not sure of the response to whatever he's about to say, “had not intended for mortals to...enjoy the sexual act then he would not have made it possible for you to do so.”
Dean stares at Castiel open-mouthed, completely unable to disguise his shock and not really trying to anyway. Castiel looks back with his impossibly deep eyes that Dean can never read. Dean closes his mouth and pushes his thoughts together before trying to speak.
“Dude,” he manages finally, waving the fork through the air. “You gotta warn a guy when you're going to come out with something like that.”
“Is it not a satisfactory answer?” Castiel asks, tilting his head to one side in what Dean suddenly realises is an attempt to understand.
“It's definitely an answer,” Dean says, finally taking a chance and cutting into the pie. “Just, whoa, okay - I don't think the Church is ready to hear something like that.”
“Nevertheless,” Castiel says, leaning forward almost eagerly to cut into the pie himself. “It is a truth.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Dean says, smiling curling up his mouth. It's the last thing Dean says for a while when he finally gets some of the pie into his mouth. It's even better than it smells. Dean thinks this might be the closest he's ever come to orgasming over food. He tries to control himself; figuring that for all of Castiel's bizarre enlightenment over sex, he might not take kindly to Dean letting loose in his pants.
Castiel's eyes are closed and his face is incandescent, the hand with the fork hovering in mid-air, the other gripping slightly at the table. For a horrible moment Dean wonders if teaching Castiel about the 'pleasures' of being human might be a really, really bad idea. He doesn't want to be the one to make Cas Fall - though, he admits, this pie would be a good reason to take the trip.
“I did not think that the flavours would work so...well, together,” Castiel says when he opens his eyes.
“Strawberry and chocolate?” Dean asks, smiling through some inappropriate memories. “Oh, they go well together. Trust me.”
“How?” Castiel asks and Dean remembers too late Castiel's need to understand everything human. Dean feels a brief flush rising in his cheeks and shakes his head at himself - he hasn't blushed since he was a fumbling teen.
“Um, how about we save that one for another day,” Dean says, tucking in another mouthful of pie before Castiel can reply. Castiel's eyes narrow for a moment, as if he knows what Dean's hiding from him. Dean tries a winning smile; admittedly it's completely ruined by the chocolate sticking to his mouth, but it makes Castiel drop the question anyway.
Dean devotes his whole attention to the pie, noticing that Castiel is very carefully only eating half of it, and feels a comfortable silence descend over them. It gives him time to covertly check on Castiel - the uncertainty that haunted the angel last time they met seems to be gone, replaced with something smoother, more comfortable, and his vessel looks well. They haven't heard any news about the Seals for a few weeks and, although it makes Dean's skin crawl with apprehension, Dean hopes that the all quiet means good news, for once.
“We are worried that the demons are gathering for something,” Castiel says, as if reading Dean's mind and, hey, he probably is. That's a scary thought.
“They're always doing something,” Dean says, shrugging. He and Sam have enjoyed being able to get back to the business of hunting in the past few weeks - running down a few dangerous spirits and an irritable witch sure beats throwing themselves up against demons all the time.
“When it comes it will not be something easy to face,” Castiel says, his voice falling into its command tone. “I hope you will be ready.”
“Come on, Cas, I was born ready,” Dean says, extending his hands expansively. Castiel gives him the confused head tilt and Dean resists the urge to sigh, he guesses what comes next.
“You were but a child,” Castiel says, setting his fork down. “How would you be ready to face demons?”
“Just an expression, Cas,” Dean says, shaking his head. “Trust me - we'll be ready.”
Dean looks at the last forkful of pie and on impulse divides it pretty evenly. He pushes one piece over to Castiel's side of the box and shovels the other into his mouth. Castiel gives him an odd look and Dean simply gestures to the last bit of pie. Castiel takes it and savours it almost as much as Dean is. It makes Dean warm inside or, at least, he thinks it does - could be the angel making him feel like that.
Dean realises that he really has no idea what abilities Castiel has beyond turning up out of nowhere, sending him through time and fighting demons. He thinks maybe he'll ask about that next time as Castiel stands and reaches for his coat.
“Hang on,” Dean says, suddenly remembering the tie tucked into his jacket. Castiel pauses with the coat hanging from his hands like a lifeless piece of material. Dean jumps up and grabs his jacket from his bed and rifles through his pockets until his fingers find the tie.
“You forgot it,” Dean says, holding it out to Castiel. “Last time you, y'know, visited.”
Castiel looks down at the tie then reaches out to take it, holding the coat in one hand. Dean smiles at him encouragingly when he stares up at him. Castiel's fingers flex around the tie.
“I don't know -” Castiel makes a motion with his hand and Dean gets it.
“Right, of course you don't,” Dean says, shaking his head at himself. “They're a lot easier to get off than on.”
Dean steps forward and takes the tie from Castiel's hand. He presses his tongue against the back of his teeth for a moment, not used to tying ties from the front, but shrugs and reaches up anyway. He pushes Castiel's collar up, Castiel doesn't flinch away from his touch, just watching him curiously, and drops the tie in a loop over his head. Dean's hands brush over Castiel's hair as he brings them down to make sure the tie is the right length before smoothing the collar down. Castiel shivers and Dean looks down at the tie between his hands.
There's nothing about this that isn't weird, Dean thinks as his fingers quickly make a simple knot in the tie. It reminds him of a time when he had to teach Sammy how to tie a tie and brings a slight smile to his face. Dean smooths the tie and then straightens the lie of Castiel's jacket.
“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says and his breath ghosts across Dean's face, smelling of chocolate and strawberries and something blessed. Dean steps back and smiles.
“You need a hand with that coat as well?” Dean asks. Castiel looks from him to the coat and then smiles, light breaking across his face. Dean thinks that he must be doing something right - to get the angel to smile like that.
“This I can do,” Castiel says, swinging the coat around and pulling it on effortlessly. The smile stays in place as he briefly touches a hand to Dean's shoulder and is gone.
Dean tidies the pie things away, feeling something like deep contentment seeping deep into his bones, and allows another smile. If Castiel keeps bring pie like this Dean might have to admit to himself that he sort of likes Castiel too, when it comes down to it. And not just for his truly excellent taste in pie.
----
Part I: Apple Pie| Part III: Cherry Pie