Angel Delight (Supernatural, Dean/Cas, Teen)
Title: Angel Delight
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Content: angel mating season, hurt Sam, protective Dean, slightly clueless Castiel
Word count: 1172
Summary: It takes a few people hitting insistently on Castiel before the angel puts two and two together and fesses up. Dean has always been good at practical problem solving.
It's funny for about all of two minutes.
Sam feels kind of bad, because maybe he didn't get what was going on, but he was the one who sort of persuaded Castiel to go up to the counter and order Dean another four slices of pie. Even Dean can't eat that much pie after the heap of food he's just put away, but he'll try - because, hey, pie.
Then Dean comes back from the john and he notices what's happening, and he doesn't think it's funny at all.
Not the pie, because Castiel hasn't actually got to speak to the waitress yet. It's the guy - maybe a trucker, he looks like he could be - the six foot lump of lard that has Castiel backed into a corner, caught between the counter and the wall, and has a hand on the back of the angel's neck.
The problem with Castiel is that he takes naivetae to a whole new level. He hasn't been in that body long enough, on Earth long enough, to know that sometimes regular humans can be as evil and dangerous as demons. He still doesn't understand most of human behaviour, so he doesn't quite know what this guy's about.
Dean knows, and he's over to them so fast it's like he's the one with speed of light wings.
Sam sees the hint of a blade, pressing in against the guy's kidney, concealed so that no one else in the restaurant will see what he's doing.
He doesn't know what Dean says, but the guy backs off pretty quick and Dean grabs Castiel by the wrist, pulls him away and back to the table. He puts Cas in the middle and Sam doesn't quite know where to look.
"You and me are gonna have a little talk later, Sammy," Dean says, and smiles.
Sam groans. Castiel is looking between the two of them like there's a second conversation going on that despite the whole angel thing is on a frequency he just isn't receiving.
::
It happens twice more in the space of three days. Next time, it's a meter maid about to ticket the Impala who suddenly decides their blue eyed angel is much more interesting. Sam steps in that time because Dean has the look, and threatening an official is likely to be harder to make go away that some frisky trucker.
The third time is worse. Sam cracks his elbow, literally, and the swelling isn't going down and he has a fever, so Dean decides it's time for better medical care than his first aid allows. The E.R isn't that busy, so both Dean and Castiel get to accompany him back into the treatment area.
Clearly, the doctor thinks that Castiel is the one needing looked at, because before Sam can sit on the trolley, Castiel is bent back over it, while the doctor plants one on him. By now, Castiel himself is clearly getting the message and he's a little fed up with it. He pushes the doctor backwards insistently, sitting up as he does so.
"No," he says, calmly, like he's decided he doesn't want to try the strawberry banana milkshake Dean's been trying to get him to taste.
The doctor is reaching for him again, when Dean grabs his hand, pushes back on his middle finger just enough to cause hurt without damage. "Hey, doc. Maybe you can find us someone else?"
The doctor nods, and goes, hugging his hand, but looking perplexed. Somehow, Dean thinks it won't be a problem asking him not to report the assault.
::
Later, Sam is a little high on painkillers, his arm in a cast, his fever spiking. He isn't really up for anything, but the conversation taking place at the table in the corner of the motel room is too weird not to ignore. It could be the drugs - he could be imagining all of this, but unfortunately, he doesn't think so.
"We normally do not take a vessel during this time, so these consequences are...unexpected."
Dean looks like he's about to laugh...or maybe cry. "Wait a minute. You're telling me...angels have a mating season?"
"It is not a matter for humour."
"You're in heat?"
Castiel stands up, and Sam can almost feel his wings unfolding as he gets ready to take off. Dean has other ideas. He grabs Castiel's wrist and tugs him back down into the chair.
"Ok, I'm a dick, I'm sorry. But that's why these people have been coming on to you?"
Castiel nods.
"But what happens in Heaven? When you don't have a vessel?"
Castiel looks embarrassed. Sam can relate. He feels the tips of his ears turning pink just listening to this. "It is a more...mental bonding than physical."
"Right. And it just goes away?"
Sam never thought he's see an angel of the Lord actually squirm. "In Heaven..yes, once bonding has taken place. On Earth, in a vessel? I fear it may continue."
That's bad. Sam doesn't want to think what it'll be like if every hunt gets disrupted by someone making grabby hands at Castiel.
"Ok, then I guess we need to do something about that."
He takes Castiel's arm, and encourages him to stand. As Dean leads the angel out, Sam tries to tell him if they're going to ring Bobby then can do it from in here. Really, he's going to just crash out, they won't disturb him.
He's half asleep when he wonders why Dean picked up his wallet instead of his phone.
::
The next day, Sam is feeling a little better about the arm, and a little worse about the whole Castiel situation. No one else is making passes at the angel, but Dean is acting like he's joined at the hip to him. He wonders about phoning Bobby and asking for some advice. Whatever Dean tried to do to help Castiel it's obviously backfired.
Now Dean is the one making extreme personal contact with Castiel.
After they leave a house where Castiel is insistent the oldest daughter has been visited by an incubus, Sam manages to get Dean aside for a minute.
"Dude, you don't see what's going on?"
Dean glares at him. "What?"
"You. Castiel? You and Castiel?"
Dean stares at him, non plussed. "Me and Castiel what?"
Groaning, Sam recounts the number of people that's tried it on with Cas, and now it's only Dean
Dean is grinning at him. Sam glances at Castiel, who's sitting in the back seat of the Impala. There's a sort of content aura about him, the kind that Sam’s seen maybe twice since they’ve known him.
"Please tell me you phoned Bobby and he gave you a miracle cure."
"For once, I kind of thought we'd solve this one on our own."
Sam presses his hands to his ears, fearful they'll start to bleed.
"Hey, Sammy," Dean comforts, as he urges his brother into the car. "Look at it this way - at least I got us a second room."
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Content: angel mating season, hurt Sam, protective Dean, slightly clueless Castiel
Word count: 1172
Summary: It takes a few people hitting insistently on Castiel before the angel puts two and two together and fesses up. Dean has always been good at practical problem solving.
It's funny for about all of two minutes.
Sam feels kind of bad, because maybe he didn't get what was going on, but he was the one who sort of persuaded Castiel to go up to the counter and order Dean another four slices of pie. Even Dean can't eat that much pie after the heap of food he's just put away, but he'll try - because, hey, pie.
Then Dean comes back from the john and he notices what's happening, and he doesn't think it's funny at all.
Not the pie, because Castiel hasn't actually got to speak to the waitress yet. It's the guy - maybe a trucker, he looks like he could be - the six foot lump of lard that has Castiel backed into a corner, caught between the counter and the wall, and has a hand on the back of the angel's neck.
The problem with Castiel is that he takes naivetae to a whole new level. He hasn't been in that body long enough, on Earth long enough, to know that sometimes regular humans can be as evil and dangerous as demons. He still doesn't understand most of human behaviour, so he doesn't quite know what this guy's about.
Dean knows, and he's over to them so fast it's like he's the one with speed of light wings.
Sam sees the hint of a blade, pressing in against the guy's kidney, concealed so that no one else in the restaurant will see what he's doing.
He doesn't know what Dean says, but the guy backs off pretty quick and Dean grabs Castiel by the wrist, pulls him away and back to the table. He puts Cas in the middle and Sam doesn't quite know where to look.
"You and me are gonna have a little talk later, Sammy," Dean says, and smiles.
Sam groans. Castiel is looking between the two of them like there's a second conversation going on that despite the whole angel thing is on a frequency he just isn't receiving.
::
It happens twice more in the space of three days. Next time, it's a meter maid about to ticket the Impala who suddenly decides their blue eyed angel is much more interesting. Sam steps in that time because Dean has the look, and threatening an official is likely to be harder to make go away that some frisky trucker.
The third time is worse. Sam cracks his elbow, literally, and the swelling isn't going down and he has a fever, so Dean decides it's time for better medical care than his first aid allows. The E.R isn't that busy, so both Dean and Castiel get to accompany him back into the treatment area.
Clearly, the doctor thinks that Castiel is the one needing looked at, because before Sam can sit on the trolley, Castiel is bent back over it, while the doctor plants one on him. By now, Castiel himself is clearly getting the message and he's a little fed up with it. He pushes the doctor backwards insistently, sitting up as he does so.
"No," he says, calmly, like he's decided he doesn't want to try the strawberry banana milkshake Dean's been trying to get him to taste.
The doctor is reaching for him again, when Dean grabs his hand, pushes back on his middle finger just enough to cause hurt without damage. "Hey, doc. Maybe you can find us someone else?"
The doctor nods, and goes, hugging his hand, but looking perplexed. Somehow, Dean thinks it won't be a problem asking him not to report the assault.
::
Later, Sam is a little high on painkillers, his arm in a cast, his fever spiking. He isn't really up for anything, but the conversation taking place at the table in the corner of the motel room is too weird not to ignore. It could be the drugs - he could be imagining all of this, but unfortunately, he doesn't think so.
"We normally do not take a vessel during this time, so these consequences are...unexpected."
Dean looks like he's about to laugh...or maybe cry. "Wait a minute. You're telling me...angels have a mating season?"
"It is not a matter for humour."
"You're in heat?"
Castiel stands up, and Sam can almost feel his wings unfolding as he gets ready to take off. Dean has other ideas. He grabs Castiel's wrist and tugs him back down into the chair.
"Ok, I'm a dick, I'm sorry. But that's why these people have been coming on to you?"
Castiel nods.
"But what happens in Heaven? When you don't have a vessel?"
Castiel looks embarrassed. Sam can relate. He feels the tips of his ears turning pink just listening to this. "It is a more...mental bonding than physical."
"Right. And it just goes away?"
Sam never thought he's see an angel of the Lord actually squirm. "In Heaven..yes, once bonding has taken place. On Earth, in a vessel? I fear it may continue."
That's bad. Sam doesn't want to think what it'll be like if every hunt gets disrupted by someone making grabby hands at Castiel.
"Ok, then I guess we need to do something about that."
He takes Castiel's arm, and encourages him to stand. As Dean leads the angel out, Sam tries to tell him if they're going to ring Bobby then can do it from in here. Really, he's going to just crash out, they won't disturb him.
He's half asleep when he wonders why Dean picked up his wallet instead of his phone.
::
The next day, Sam is feeling a little better about the arm, and a little worse about the whole Castiel situation. No one else is making passes at the angel, but Dean is acting like he's joined at the hip to him. He wonders about phoning Bobby and asking for some advice. Whatever Dean tried to do to help Castiel it's obviously backfired.
Now Dean is the one making extreme personal contact with Castiel.
After they leave a house where Castiel is insistent the oldest daughter has been visited by an incubus, Sam manages to get Dean aside for a minute.
"Dude, you don't see what's going on?"
Dean glares at him. "What?"
"You. Castiel? You and Castiel?"
Dean stares at him, non plussed. "Me and Castiel what?"
Groaning, Sam recounts the number of people that's tried it on with Cas, and now it's only Dean
Dean is grinning at him. Sam glances at Castiel, who's sitting in the back seat of the Impala. There's a sort of content aura about him, the kind that Sam’s seen maybe twice since they’ve known him.
"Please tell me you phoned Bobby and he gave you a miracle cure."
"For once, I kind of thought we'd solve this one on our own."
Sam presses his hands to his ears, fearful they'll start to bleed.
"Hey, Sammy," Dean comforts, as he urges his brother into the car. "Look at it this way - at least I got us a second room."