FIC: Tripping Extras (PG) Chapter 1/4
A collection of deleted/extra scenes from the fanfiction 'Tripping'. Featuring Cas the pervy voyeur, Bobby cursing heavy sleepers and Jimmy realising just how lucky his is not to remember his time as a Vessel.
Tripping 3.5 - Good Student
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Castiel made a point of staying out of Dean and Sam's heads. He'd learned the hard way how the brothers viewed his habit of peeking into the minds of those around him and so, to save further disagreements, he kept his ability to himself. It was a courtesy he did not extend to most. Bobby, Jo and Ellen had earned a place on his non-watch list simply because Dean tended to have an uncanny ability to tell when he was doing his 'creepy invasion of privacy thing' - Dean's words of course - and had taken to glaring at him when it happened in his presence.
The day following the Truth or Dare episode though, Castiel had been out of sorts. A hangover Dean and Sam had called it. Whatever it was, it had been far from pleasant and had played absolute havoc with his control. Glimpsing Jo's mind while waiting with her in Ellen’s car had been an accident. Not immediately backtracking out of it...well, that...wasn't.
Reading minds was a lot like trying to read a book with moving letters. Nothing stayed static and words tended to change as one was looking at them. Castiel however, was rather good at deciphering the chaos. A mellenia of practice had ensured it. That he didn't have to as he watched the scene playing out in Jo's mind was a little disconcerting. Only true focus made the picture so clear. And this picture was like crystal.
At first Castiel thought he was seeing the memory of the night before played out. Most of it was the same - him as he strode across the study towards Dean, Dean's look of shock as he pulled the man out of his chair. Castiel didn't realise anything was amiss until the imaginary him didn't pull away from Dean for quite a bit longer than he remembered.
Frowning, Castiel mentally inched closer to the scene. It was only as Dean's hands, fisted in the other Castiel's trench coat tightened suddenly, pulling the other him closer that he realised he was viewing a very different version of events to those that had transpired. This wasn't a memory, this was...a fantasy.
He should have left then he knew; should have pulled his consciousness back and given Jo some measure of privacy but curiosity held him tight. He watched in interest as the other him moaned, releasing Dean's jacket to card his hands through the man's hair. This Dean seemed to like the action, arching against the other Castiel in a way that made the real Castiel swallow a little heavily despite himself.
He'd seen humans enjoy each other of course - it was an instinctual action; one born of the need to procreate. Logically Castiel knew that.
This though... Castiel watched as the imaginary him backed Dean up to the desk and pushed him down firmly - splaying the hunter across the surface before following him down. Castiel shifted. This was something entirely...different.
Castiel didn't know if it was because it was him and Dean he was watching - or rather him and Dean as imagined by Jo - but something about the display caused Castiel's heart to pound in his chest. He found his mouth going dry as he watched his imaginary self shed the ever present trench coat, Dean already working on the tie - yanking it from his collar with a harsh sound deep in his throat. The buttons were next, but not before the other Castiel sat up slightly, tugging Dean's t-shirt over his head, their kiss broken for but a moment. The other Castiel's shirt was next, slid back off his shoulders by hands that couldn't seem to stop teasing and clutching at skin.
Castiel couldn't help noticing it was rather well imagined skin too. Jo knew Dean well, that much was evident in her rendering of him. Castiel himself had seen the hunter in various states of undress in the time he'd known him and so he could tell Jo's version was almost spot on. What he found surprising however, was how accurate she was with his own physical form.
He watched as the muscles played across the imaginary Castiel's back - Dean's hands intermittently clutching and smoothing across them. It was an admirable depiction. Something which made watching what was happening all the more surreal.
Castiel watched as Dean arched up off the desk, a harsh moan escaping his lips as the Castiel atop him trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses down his throat before he - Castiel's eyes widened - before he bit into the curve of the hunters neck. The gasp this elicited from the imaginary Dean was one that hit Castiel somewhere low in his belly, a rather sharp sensation that threw him back to the feel of his and Dean's first kiss.
"Fuck...Cas..." the imaginary Dean swore and Castiel found himself startled at the sound of the voice: deep, undone and...saying his name. For some reason that was paramount. He certainly hadn't been able to forget it since.
It was about at that point that Jo's mother had interrupted her daughter's train of thought, pulling the girl out of her fantasy and back into reality and so dumping Castiel back into awareness as well.
He'd spent the remainder of the trip with them keeping his mind tightly to himself, fighting the curiosity that urged him to take a peek; just one peek back into the girl's head. He had held strong.
His control following that day was not so solid.
Castiel had always monitored the thoughts of those around him. It was an automatic process that usually ran beneath his notice. Now though...now every time he caught a glimpse of someone picturing he and Dean he often paused to take a closer look. The number of carnal fantasies he stumbled upon was almost ludicrous.
It was also mildly…curious. Castiel found himself intrigued despite his better judgement. He had always been a student of learning, and most of the knowledge he’d gained of earth he’d done so with the use of his mind-reading. He told himself this was no different - just another form of human interaction he was trying to understand.
Of course no other human interaction made his breath grow short and his palms tingle strangely - like it was his own hands running over the planes of Dean’s body and not just a stranger’s imaginings.
But Castiel chose to ignore this. And he watched. And he learned.
Because Castiel was nothing if not a good student.
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