FIC: Tripping (NC-17) Chapter 04/13
What do you do when the Universe itself seems to have decided you belong with your very stoic, very angelic, very MALE hunting companion?
Dean's about to find out.
Chapter 04 - Fangirl
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“There’s something off Sammy, I’m telling you!”
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s dramatics. “Dean, I was joking when I said the universe was out to get you, you know that right?” he said tiredly.
Sam watched exasperatedly as Dean stewed behind the wheel beside him. Seriously, this was getting more than a little ridiculous. Ever since Ellen and Jo’s stunt the day before they’d failed to kill Lucifer Dean had been jumpier than a mouse in a cattery. He hadn’t even been able to look at poor Cas which amused and exasperated Sam in equal turns.
So the angel had been suckered into a game of truth or dare? So Jo had a devious sense of humour? The entire experience had been nothing short of absolutely hilarious as far as Sam was concerned. Particularly when Cas had sobered up and realised fully what he’d done. The look on the angel’s face as he’d slouched in the back of Jo and Ellen’s four by four the next morning was one Sam was going to treasure for the rest of his days. In some ways it made the memories of Jo and Ellen a bit sweeter - to remember the laughter before the horrors of that day.
Dean though - Sam had never seen his brother act with such a massive lack of humour to a situation. Even the whole tv-show debacle with that character that kinda looked like him had been a pushover next to this. Then again, the last time Sam had jokingly switched the TV over to The G Word Dean had all but put his foot through the screen so maybe there was a little less humour there as well.
“Something’s going on,” Dean ranted. “Something to do with me and Cas.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Seriously Dean, it was one kiss!” he groaned. “And a forced one at that!”
Silence greeted the statement and Sam glanced over at his brother to see that little muscle in his jaw ticking the rumba. It was Dean’s biggest tell - one that had never failed Sam before.
No. Way.
“It was just one kiss right Dean?” he asked, voice tightly controlled. Tick went the muscle. A bark of incredulous laughter escaped Sam before he could help it. The glare this earned him was nothing short of death and very much a confirmation.
Struggling, Sam fought the laugh into a cough. “Um - when?” he asked, his mind already running over the endless possibilities for ribbing his brother with the ammo he’d just been handed. This was like the holy grail of brotherly teasing. Songs would be sung about this day. He watched with glee as Dean squirmed under his look.
“Gabriel okay,” his brother said sharply. “He stuck Cas and I in an episode of that motherfuckin’ show.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “The G Word?” he asked, his repressed laughter making his shoulders start to ache. He very suddenly got why Dean had appreciated some of the annoying ex-archangel’s stunts. Putting Dean in The G Word was inspired.
“This isn’t funny!” Dean groused, proving Sam was doing a sucky job of keeping his hilarity contained. Sam gave up, laughing long and loud at the look on his brother’s face.
“Are you kidding? This is hilarious!” he enthused, wheezing in a breath.
“It’s wrong!” Dean yelled, only succeeding in making Sam laugh harder. “I am not gay!”
“No, you’re angel-sexual,” Sam enthused before doubling over again. Oh god, it’d been so long since he’d laughed like this - he’d forgotten how much it hurt. Painful in a truly awesome way. For a moment the atmosphere in the car was almost like the old days. Before all the insanity with Lilith and yellow-eyes. Before he'd fallen in with Ruby and his brother had started looking at him like he didn't know him. God knew Sam and Dean's relationship had never been easy - hell no - but Sam missed the days of snarky humour and vengeful teasing. He missed having a big brother.
“You’re an asshole, you know that,” Dean growled and Sam grinned, heart lighter than it had been in months as he wiped at his streaming eyes.
“Come on Dean, this is gold,” he said happily. “If this had happened to me you’d never let me live it down.”
Dean seemed to think about that for a moment before shrugging slightly, all but a signed confession that Sam was right. Sam grinned and settled back into the seat. It was a testament to Dean’s driving that they were still on the road at all. If Sam had gotten that angry over something he had no doubt he would have ploughed into a tree.
“So now we’re going to see Chuck to what? See if you’re cursed?” he asked, amusement still clear in his tone.
Dean nodded seriously. “Something like that.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Why now?” he asked. “The Truth or Dare thing was months ago.”
There was no way he missed Dean’s awkward little seat shift at that statement but he accepted his brother’s muttered “No reason”. He’d had quite enough fun at his brother’s expense for the moment, he knew from experience that if he pushed any further he’d be waking up to blared Led Zeppelin for weeks.
Dean pulled the car into Chuck’s street and killed the engine in front of the author’s ramshackle two story. It was then that something occurred to Sam. Something that made his blood run chill. “Uh…you don’t think Becky’s here do you?” he asked, the trepidation at the possibility thick in his voice.
It was true the last time they’d met she seemed to have switched her sights to Chuck - thank god - but Sam didn't think he was ever going to forget the fawning look in her eyes as she'd looked up at him for the first time…and the second time…and the time after that…
The girl was just creepy.
Dean, the bastard, laughed shortly as he climbed out of the car. "Man, I hope so,” his brother enthused. “You’d totally deserve it.”
Sam scowled. To his mind nobody deserved a stalker, let alone one whose pastime was writing fictional stories about them doing kinky things with their brother. “Seriously - did Chuck say she’d be here?” he asked, the worry making his voice tip a bit despite himself as they climbed the porch steps and Dean rang the doorbell.
“Dude, I didn’t ask,” Dean shot over his shoulder. “Chill.”
Of course a moment later Becky opened the door. God. Dammit. Sam took in her customary look of animated over-enthusiasm like a swimmer takes in a fin heading his way.
“You’re HERE!” she cried happily and Sam groaned silently, shooting Dean a glare as the jerk smirked at him. A moment later the smirk turned into a look of surprise when Becky lunged, not for Sam but for Dean, dragging the older brother into the house by his arm.
Sam blinked in confusion on the doorstep for a moment. Right…
Stepping inside, Sam shut the door behind him before following Dean's receding figure down the hallway. When he got to the sitting room it was to a scene of confusion.
“Cas?” he asked, taking in the sight of the angel in the center of the room. “What are you doing here?”
Castiel turned serious eyes on him for a moment before shooting a quick glance at Chuck. Sam couldn’t help but notice the way the angel's eyes barely touched on Dean. Now that Sam thought about it actually, Cas had been avoiding Dean's eyes about as much as Dean had been avoiding his. His brother wasn’t the only one freaking then. Sam had to bite back on a grin at the realisation.
“Chuck called me,” Cas finally said stoically which pulled an exasperated sigh from Chuck across the room. For once the author wasn’t dressed in PJs and his customary flannel gown - the universal attire of struggling authors while at home. Becky’s doing most probably.
“For the thousandth time, I didn’t call - ”
“You sent a worded message,” Castiel interrupted and Sam met Chuck’s eyes from across the room. Oh boy…
Dean had obviously worked it out too. “Becky? What the hell?” he asked gruffly, trying and failing to pull his arm out of her grasp. Becky for her part didn’t seem at all phased that she’d been caught out yet again.
“I just thought you two ought to talk,” she said happily, eyes darting between Dean and a confused looking Castiel. “You know…about stuff,” she said with the air of someone communicating a large and trusted secret.
And then she winked. Badly. The amusement bubbled up inside Sam once more as he started to get an idea of what was going on. It was all over the girl’s face as her affected gaze danced between his brother and Cas.
“Chuck,” Dean growled, low and dangerous. “Tell me you haven’t been publishing again.”
Chuck shook his head emphatically. “No! No of course not!” he said quickly, shrinking under Dean’s glare. “Just…writing…”
The look on Dean’s face could have cracked glass. Sam had to suppress an honest to god snort. "And let me guess, you’ve been letting Becky read the drafts,” Sam said, trying and failing to contain his smirk. Dean turned the look of death on him for his troubles.
“Only the second drafts!” Becky enthused while Chuck rubbed his forehead wearily. “They were…” Becky paused to giggle breathily, eyes ticking between Dean and Castiel again, "excellent.”
Sam coughed hurriedly to cover his laugh as Dean tried to set fire to Becky using a glare alone.
“If I am not needed here I will go,” Castiel suddenly said lowly and Sam watched as his eyes ticked to Dean as he said it.
His brother looked up and nodded once. “Go,” he said. “We’ll call if we need you.”
Castiel nodded once and then…didn’t move. Sam watched as the angel frowned, looking down at himself in confusion.
“Cas?” Sam asked. All eyes in the room were on the angel as he looked up.
“I am bound,” Castiel said seriously.
“What?” Dean said loudly. “How is that -” Then he hit on what Sam was already latching onto. As one, the brothers turned their eyes on Becky who grinned around the room.
“Oh you can’t go anywhere either,” she said happily to Dean. “Not until you both - “ another breathy giggle, “- kiss.”
For a for a full moment silence reigned before Dean turned an accusing stare on Sam. “Not cursed huh?”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Dean sighed as he slid to a seat on the floor in the center of the room. The fact he was leaning on an invisible barrier in thin air to achieve the action had lost all novelty a good two hours ago when the damn thing had started moving in on them.
Yes, not only were he and Cas trapped together like fish in a bowl, the bowl was getting goddamn smaller - pushing them both together whether they wanted to be or not.
The afternoon had been lost in yelling, threatening and finally trying to research a way out of their current predicament. The spell Becky had used was one of the uber magics however. Finite and unbreakable save by one thing. A frigging kiss. ANOTHER frigging kiss. Dean growled again, causing Cas across from him to look up.
Of course the angel could have broken out. There was very little on the earth that could hold one after all. Apparently busting out and not killing everyone within a two mile radius didn't necessarily go hand in hand though. It was testament to Dean's growing frustration that he had almost voted for the option more than once in the last few hours.
Night had fallen not long before and with it had gone Dean’s patience. Throwing swear words around like confetti he’d kicked Sam, Chuck and Becky out of the sitting room and ordered the doors barred. If he was going to have to go through with this bitch he was not going to have a goddamn audience for it. Sam had said he’d head back to the motel and Chuck had taken one look at Becky’s excited face before declaring they were going to spend the night at her place, far far away from the temptation to sneak downstairs.
And so here they were. Dean on one side of their invisible bubble and Cas on the other. It had been over half an hour now and Dean still couldn’t bring himself to get it over and done with. Not that Cas had made a move either. The angel seemed just as put out by the situation as he was - a small concession Dean supposed.
It was utterly, freakin' ridiculous that they were back in the same goddamn position again. Twice now he'd known the feel of the damn angel's lips and if that wasn't bad enough, he'd even started goddamn DREAMING about it. It had been the final straw - the one Sam had asked about so friggin' astutely in the car. Having Anna gatecrash a re-run of the damn Gabriel incident in his head had brought to light just how fucked up things had become.
Dean could still remember the wry look in her eyes as she'd looked the scene over. “So,” she'd said. “This is what you dream about.”
Dean sighed at the memory. It was still a little eerie thinking about Anna - what she'd become after a round of obedience training in heaven. In a way it made him feel marginally more sure in his choice to kiss Cas rather than have Gabriel zap him back to the homeland. As much trouble as the damn action had proven since.
Cas had explained haltingly - and with a lot of goddamn awkwardness - exactly why he'd taken up Jo's dare the night before their failed attempt on Lucifer. Dean had little doubt the liquor had also played a part but he could hardly blame the angel, despite a really harsh wish to. The idiot had been trying to keep a perceived secret after all - something Dean was rather glad of despite the traumatising consequences.
But then, that was just the way Cas was - loyal and stout, almost to a friggin' fault. And the thing was, it was trust that had been shaken most in Dean of late - after the whole nightmare with Sammy and demons coming at them from every corner. As much as he and his brother were improving their issues, it helped to know that someone was always there. Solid, real and dependable.
His Cas.
The first time he'd realised it, Dean had added the sentiment very quickly to the increasingly long list of things he was never, ever going to say out loud. And fuck, but with the way the list was going Dean was surprised he wasn't growing lady parts.
His self depreciating snort at the thought had Cas glancing up at him again from across the way and Dean cocked his head at the angel. “Do you think we’re cursed?” he asked suddenly. As awkward as conversation was likely to be at this point Dean figured leaving himself to his thoughts was going to be worse. He watched as Cas looked down at him a moment before following his lead and sliding to a seat on the floor across from him.
“Cursed how?” he angel asked, his voice as unreadable as ever.
“This,” Dean said, gesturing between them. “How come we always come back to this?”
Castiel’s head dropped into its curious puppy tilt, eyes serious upon his. “You are talking about circumstances forcing us closer,” he said evenly and Dean scoffed.
“That’s one way to say it yeah,” he said flippantly, picking idly at a hole in his jeans. “Another way is the universe wants us to do the dirty.”
Castiel cocked his head. "I don't understand that reference."
Dean rolled his eyes. "It wants us to have sex - get on down with the homosexual sinning," he spat, pouring an element of frustration into the sentence with relish. It was testament to how annoyed he was with everything that he said it at all - in times of stress he did like to share the awkwardness - what better way than to spark a religious debate with a freaking angel.
Dean watched as Cas frowned. "Homosexuality is not a sin," the angel said plainly, voice steeped in fact.
Dean snorted, almost surprised despite himself. Sure the whole 'God hates fags' thing was dickish but...well...if the majority of his angel's were anything to go by, Dean wasn't really holding out high hopes for the morality of their boss. "There's more than a few churches that would argue with you there," Dean said and watched curiously as Cas's frown deepened into a scowl.
"Man's interpretations of the word of God often leave much to be desired," the angel said unhappily, like humankind had messed on the carpet and needed to learn proper manners or something. Hell, Dean half agreed with the sentiment and he WAS a freaking member of humanity.
“And what do you think of the whole thing,” he asked, almost surprising himself with the question. It was probably one of the more surreal conversations he’d ever had with Cas. But then again it wasn’t every day one got to hear the opinions of an angel on same-sex relations. Castiel looked up and pinned him with blue.
“I think love is sacred,” he said surely. "Next to freedom it is humanity's greatest gift."
Just humanity's? It was on the tip of Dean's Tongue to ask but he bit down on it at the last moment - shit was getting awkward enough without fucking feelings joining the mix. Dean suddenly wished he’d told Sam to fetch him a bottle of something. This would probably be a far easier situation to tackle drunk.
“What do you think?” Cas asked suddenly, pulling him out of his wishful thinking.
“About the man-love thing?” Dean asked, watching as Cas nodded - eyes serious. Dean sighed. “I think to each their own. ‘S just not my thing that’s all.”
Castiel sat forward a little, hands clasped before him, elbows on his knees as he fixed Dean with one of his more intense looks. “And yet you kissed me,” he said, his tone scraping across something deep inside of Dean.
Dean scoffed, hearing the panic in the sound loud and clear and wishing he didn’t. “I was forced to kiss you,” he said with forced flippancy. “Doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.”
He knew the moment the words were out they were wrong. It was far easier to say them in his head; easier to lie in the recesses of his own brain. Truth was, he had enjoyed kissing Cas - it was base instinct to want to be close to someone and circumstances as they were Dean hadn’t had much opportunity to be close to anyone for…well, for a very long time. More importantly - and something he could only admit to himself during the deepest, loneliest nights - he didn’t deserve it. Not after all he had seen - especially not after all he had done. As far as he was concerned he’d given up any right to human connection the moment he’d torn into the first soul on that damn table.
And it had been fine - he’d been surviving. He’d accepted the loneliness, wrapping his guilt around him like armour. Then all this messed up shit with Cas had started. Like the angel said, they’d been forced closer and a part of Dean had latched on. Because as much as he believed he didn’t deserve it, it didn’t stop him craving.
Looking up, Dean met Cas’s gaze across the space between them and saw with a certainty the angel knew he was lying just as surely as he did. Didn’t mean Dean was going to give him the damn satisfaction of admitting it though.
Very suddenly a pressure built at Dean's back and shoved him forward a few inches and Dean swore. The two of them were a mere few feet from each other now, their knees almost touching and Dean couldn’t deny that they were running out of time.
Dean watched with trepidation as Cas climbed smoothly to his feet. Damn graceful bastard. A moment later, Cas's hand was extended downwards to him and Dean sighed heavily before taking it - allowing the angel to pull him to his feet. He regretted it an instant later as the barrier behind him came up snug to his back - almost as if the friggin' thing had read their intentions. Dean found himself a scarce foot from Cas yet again, his body humming with an all too familiar sensitivity. He didn't think he'd ever been so physically aware of another person before.
Ever since the Truth or Dare fiasco with Jo and Ellen, Cas had been keeping his distance - his personal space issues a thing of the past since he'd obviously experienced exactly what that sort of closeness usually entailed. Dean had been grateful for it - or at least he thought he had been. Now, with Cas's breath ghosting over his lips once more, a traitorous little voice in Dean's head whispered that he'd missed this. For the longest time Castiel had been the only one willing to get this close - even if it was only out of a lack of tact.
Dean took a deep breath before Castiel suddenly spoke before he could.
“Close your eyes,” the angel said firmly, making Dean's eyebrows hit his hairline. Obviously noticing the expression Cas's eyes softened - slightly, but it was there. “Please.”
And fuck it all, Dean's breath caught in his throat. It wasn't just because Dean had never heard the word dropped from Cas's lips either. There was something in the angel's tone - a note that made something deep inside of Dean twist slightly.
For perhaps the first time in his life Dean found himself without a smart ass comeback and before he knew it he was closing his eyes. The last glimpse of Cas before he did was likely to stick with him too. Serious and staring - but something in the angel's eyes just as soft as when he'd said please.
The moment darkness closed in around him Dean immediately regretted it as his body's awareness of the situation seemed to triple. The warmth coming off Castiel's body was almost tangible - seeming to buzz across his skin like a thing alive. That coupled with the suspense of waiting for the damn angel to move in had Dean's breath catching all over again despite himself. God, he was like a friggin’ school girl after prom here. He was suddenly a thousand times gladder that he'd kicked all the witnesses out because this was just freakin' embarrassing...
Then Castiel's lips ghosted across his and the situation became less about embarrassment and more about control. He'd never been kissed so softly in his life - a bare touch of skin on skin that somehow seemed to skewer through him far more intensely than any other more carnal action. Dean sucked in a shattered breath, feeling the ridiculousness of it ringing in his ears as his body started to shake - shake for fuck's sake... He had so not signed up for this...
The moment the thought surfaced something within Dean seemed to snap and he'd already made up his mind to pull away - shrinking fish bowl be damned - when Castiel did something that thoroughly and utterly short-circuited the action, along with any sort of functioning higher processes.
Trailing a hand up his neck was bad enough but when the angel carded his fingertips through the hair at the base of Dean's skull Dean was suddenly and utterly lost. It was his weak point - the one little trick that so few people ever found. And Cas had discovered it first go.
Fuck.
Dean couldn't stop the shiver as the angel curled his fingers slightly, scratching oh so tantalisingly across the spot that made Dean's knees go weak at the best of times. Then Castiel tilted his head slightly and teeth grazed Dean's bottom lip...
Dean moaned. Actually. Fucking. Moaned.
Jesus - he was never living this down. Not that it seemed to matter at all at the moment because Cas had suddenly gotten very, very serious about making him forget anything else besides the feel of lips on his and hands, hot and heavy on his skin.
Dean wasn't quite sure when Cas had pressed him up against the barrier or when his own hands had gotten tangled in the lapels of the angel's damn jacket but when Cas's mouth opened beneath his, pressing the kiss deeper Dean found himself arching into the new sensation despite the little voice in the back of his head telling him he was losing every god-damn masculine point he'd ever acquired.
It was insane and mental and every other god damn mad word the english language had ever come up with but Dean found his capacity to care very quickly failing. The world had condensed down to hands, lips and - oh god - craving; intense, heady craving. Because for all his experience; for all the kisses and touches he'd swapped over the years nothing had ever so thoroughly and completely turned him inside out.
That it was a man...that it was Cas making him feel this certainly didn't seem to matter to his goddamn traitorous body which had suddenly decided to remind him exactly how much it was enjoying things. When Cas pressed impossibly closer, sliding one leg between his with stomach jolting smoothness Dean couldn't have stopped his broken moan if his life had depended on it.
That was of course the moment the barrier chose to fall.
Suddenly finding himself trying to lean against thin air, Dean yelped - one of the many things he was never going to mention about this night to anyone EVER - and staggered, only saved from a sprawling position on the floor by the couch back behind him. Probably a good thing because Cas would have most likely followed him down. And now he was thinking about the angel on top of him. DAMN it…
As it was, he ended up slamming ass first into a sharp corner - something which he just knew was going to bruise - staring dumb-struck at Castiel as the angel hovered over him.
Holy mother of fuck...
Castiel drew in a shaking breath in front of him before a smirk, a real live frigging smirk overtook the angel's features.
“You enjoyed that,” he said surely, voice like a gravel path and brooking no argument.
And then, without waiting for an answer the angel was gone, the faint sound of wings hanging heavily in the air.
For a full minute there was silence. Then Dean swore. Loudly.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The next morning Becky snuck a peak through the door, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she took in the empty sitting room.
Excellent.
Ninja-ing across the carpet she bee-lined for Chuck's cluttered bookshelf, moving old tombs aside to reveal a hidden camera on the sixth shelf - little recording light blinking happily at her. Suppressing a squeal of joy Becky hit the stop button before hurriedly rewinding the tape.
It took a couple of stop/starts before she hit the moment she was looking for. She watched rapt as onscreen-Dean yelled the rest of the group out into the hallway, leaving him and Castiel alone in the room. The next half an hour passed with Becky watching the goings on of the two like a hawk, filling in the blanks with her special brand of enthusiastic commentary.
Every look between them was smouldering; every sigh longing. Dean's penchant for running his hand through his hair exasperatedly was obviously telling of his want to grab the angel into a harsh embrace. Castiel's piercing stare when Dean wasn't looking was one of longing. Every twitch of a hand, shift of stance and jilted sigh was a sure sign of their need to tear eachother’s clothes off - Becky was positive about it. As the moment of truth drew nearer, the invisible barrier of the spell pushing them closer she could feel the squeal of glee rising in her throat.
Then they stood - oh so tantalisingly close, Dean's fingers obviously itching to run through Castiel's silken hair; Castiel's lips yearning for the touch of the rough hunter's...
Becky couldn't suppress the squeak of excitement when on-screen-Dean closed his eyes. This was it! THIS WAS IT!!
And then on-screen Castiel suddenly turned, looking straight at the camera. Becky's mouth dropped open as she watched the angel raise a hand, his fingers twisting slightly through the air.
The picture dissolved into static. And Becky dissolved into hysterics.
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