Fic: Kiss Rhymes with Bliss 1/2 (PG-13, Dean/Castiel)
Title: Kiss Rhymes with Bliss
Author: ifrenchfriez
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Word Count: 1,357
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Supernatural.
Summary: When Castiel helps stitch up Dean after a hunt, he finds out that there's an easier way to heal him.
Notes/Warnings: Written for hoodie_time's "Writing Between The Lines" Challenge! Prompted by gatorgrrrl and also for my prompt table from spn_30snapshots. This is the first teeny bit of slashy fic I've written!
“Okay, bring him in carefully.”
Sam supports Dean’s right side while Castiel supports his left. All three of them blindly stumble into the compact motel room until Sam finds the switch on the paint-eroded wall and flicks it on.
Dean looks worse in the light, even if it’s dim. There are small slashes all over his face, claw markings on his tarnished clothes, and gashes exposed by his dirty jeans which are ripped at the knees.
“On the bed,” Sam murmurs.
Dean trips over his feet when they start moving again and groans. “That kitsune chick was a bitch,” he mutters.
“Yeah, she was.”
They were hunting something they rarely came across, a deranged fox spirit that possesses young females. In the creature’s house, Sam had been in her bedroom when the kitsune attacked Dean downstairs. The kitsune was clawing at him relentlessly until Castiel showed up and killed her with the angel blade.
Sam disentangles himself from Dean, careful to make the least contact with his injuries. The bed declines and creaks when Dean settles on it. He frowns as he examines his arms, seeing black spots and crimson cuts all over the place. Poking and prodding at the wounds, he winces when he nudges against a bruise on his forearm too hard.
“I’ll go get some food and bandages,” Sam says quietly, walking towards the door. “Castiel, start stitching him up,” he pauses to look at Dean, “car keys?”
He reaches in his jacket pocket and tosses the Impala’s keys to him. Sam closes the wooden door behind him as he leaves.
He watches Castiel walk to the bathroom to retrieve the sewing tools. He’s helped patch up both Sam and Dean once or twice, so he knows where the floss and needles are.
Dean stiffly shrugs out of his jacket and shirt, revealing three more wounds on his abdomen. He exhales sharply when he sees a wicked-looking slash on his chest, dragging from his right pectoral to his lower left ribcage. Son of a bitch. He looks lower and sees two smaller cuts on his stomach. Rolling his eyes in agitation, he wonders how many more wounds he could possibly have.
Hearing footsteps come out of the restroom, Dean looks up and the first thing he sees is a plastic box of some sort in one of Castiel’s hands. He eyes it suspiciously as the angel approaches him with the implements.
“What’s with the first aid kit?” he asks, quirking a brow.
“The cuts need to be cleansed before I treat them.”
Dean contemplates the fact that he and Sam hardly ever clean their injuries after a hunt. Huh. Maybe they should start cleaning their wounds before one of them has to saw off a limb or something.
Castiel balances the medical kit on a knee and opens it. He looks over the items, and takes something out. The alcoholic smell of a disinfectant cloth permeates the air.
Dean makes a face and wrinkles his nose at the scent, wonders how girls manage to put on nail polish without gagging in the process.
Before he can finish his thought, Castiel hesitantly grips his shoulder, using it as leverage so he can cleanse the bloody gash correctly. Castiel gently swipes the cloth over it, but quickly pulls back when Dean jerks back and twitches. “Fuck!”
“Can we just skip to the stitching part?” he groans.
Amused, Castiel waits for Dean to recompose himself before he wipes the cloth over the cut again. The hunter doesn’t pull back this time, but cringes a bit. “Hold still,” Castiel chides firmly.
With a few more swipes, Castiel finishes cleaning the wound in a short amount of time. He fumbles with the floss and needle before he’s able to thread a string of floss through the loop.
Dean sneaks a look at him, sees his eyes analyzing the cut before he decides to start at the bottom of it and move from there.
The back of Castiel’s right hand accidentally brushes against a nipple. Dean shivers instinctively at first, and then freezes and stiffens at the contact. His pupils widen for a fraction of a second when he looks at Castiel before his eyes rapidly dart around the room. What the hell was that?
Something hot settles in the pit of his stomach. Dean clears his throat, his gaze suddenly finding interest on a certain spot on the wall. He swallows dryly and rubs the back of his neck, looking at anything but Castiel.
“I should’ve thought of this before.”
Huh? Thought of what before? Dean meets Castiel’s gaze and his heart stops.
He knows that look anywhere, the one a girl has on her face before she bravely makes the first move and plants a kiss on his lips. But before he can freak out, Castiel tilts his chin up, leans in, and presses his lips to Dean’s, silencing his thoughts.
His heart starts to pound furiously. Wait. Soft lips innocently crush against his mouth. His breath quickens when he inhales the man’s intoxicating scent. He sees pale eyelids, and notices how peaceful the angel looks right now. Something about the serene expression on Castiel’s face makes Dean’s stomach flutter and do somersaults. He can’t even think about how strange it feels, stubble instead of smoothness rubbing over his skin, how the sure grip on his jaw isn’t what he’s used to.
And then, it hits him. Castiel. Cas is kissing me. His brain nearly malfunctions at that thought. He’s an angel. I’m kissing an angel.
Realizing that he couldn’t care less, Dean closes his eyes and kisses him back. He lifts a hand to rest on Castiel’s cheek, relishing the warmth of it. The angel’s lips slightly part in response, and Dean, being himself, takes advantage of that. He slides his tongue in and-Oh God, that feels really good-Castiel’s tongue meets his at the exact same moment. They tilt their heads simultaneously, deepening the kiss. Mimicking each other’s moves, they playfully tangle around each other, cherishing the sweet sensations sparking through their heated bodies.
Both of them are lost in a blissful haze before Dean tugs on Castiel’s trench coat, urging him to sit next to him. Castiel gets the memo and slowly gets up, not daring to break the kiss as if his life depended on it.
Dean feels the bed dip when Castiel sits next to him, but his mind’s cloudy from this whole thing. The embrace is so intimate, and feels like the most natural thing in the world, kissing an angel.
There’s no concept of space between them until Castiel gently pushes against Dean’s chest with his free hand. Dean tries to bite back a groan of refusal but fails. He hears Castiel quietly laugh into his mouth, sending vibrations down his spine and to the tips of his toes. They reluctantly start to pull away from each other, the sound of their lips parting making an inaudible sound.
Breathing heavily, Castiel leans his forehead against Dean’s. Dean lowers his hands to the bed sheets to steady himself. Both of them breathe heavily against each other; their faint panting is the only thing heard throughout the whole room.
“Dean.” He says it so softly, like a caress, but the emotion in it is prominent. Castiel’s piercing deep blue gaze mesmerizes him.
Dean feels something surge inside him, something glowing and luminous. It courses through his weary body. He allows it to trail every part of him, every strained muscle, and every tight vein. His eyes flutter shut when the mysterious light warms every inch of his body, washes over every spot with renewed strength. After a moment, it dims and fades. That’s when Dean’s aware of the fact that every wound on his body has vanished. All the scrapes and slashes no longer mar his body, no scars or traces left behind.
“Cas.” It comes out as a breathless whisper.
Castiel understands when Dean suddenly becomes drowsy. He sways toward the pillows on the bed and droops against the covers.
“Close your eyes,” Castiel says.
It’s the last thing Dean remembers.
The Next Day
Author: ifrenchfriez
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Word Count: 1,357
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Supernatural.
Summary: When Castiel helps stitch up Dean after a hunt, he finds out that there's an easier way to heal him.
Notes/Warnings: Written for hoodie_time's "Writing Between The Lines" Challenge! Prompted by gatorgrrrl and also for my prompt table from spn_30snapshots. This is the first teeny bit of slashy fic I've written!
“Okay, bring him in carefully.”
Sam supports Dean’s right side while Castiel supports his left. All three of them blindly stumble into the compact motel room until Sam finds the switch on the paint-eroded wall and flicks it on.
Dean looks worse in the light, even if it’s dim. There are small slashes all over his face, claw markings on his tarnished clothes, and gashes exposed by his dirty jeans which are ripped at the knees.
“On the bed,” Sam murmurs.
Dean trips over his feet when they start moving again and groans. “That kitsune chick was a bitch,” he mutters.
“Yeah, she was.”
They were hunting something they rarely came across, a deranged fox spirit that possesses young females. In the creature’s house, Sam had been in her bedroom when the kitsune attacked Dean downstairs. The kitsune was clawing at him relentlessly until Castiel showed up and killed her with the angel blade.
Sam disentangles himself from Dean, careful to make the least contact with his injuries. The bed declines and creaks when Dean settles on it. He frowns as he examines his arms, seeing black spots and crimson cuts all over the place. Poking and prodding at the wounds, he winces when he nudges against a bruise on his forearm too hard.
“I’ll go get some food and bandages,” Sam says quietly, walking towards the door. “Castiel, start stitching him up,” he pauses to look at Dean, “car keys?”
He reaches in his jacket pocket and tosses the Impala’s keys to him. Sam closes the wooden door behind him as he leaves.
He watches Castiel walk to the bathroom to retrieve the sewing tools. He’s helped patch up both Sam and Dean once or twice, so he knows where the floss and needles are.
Dean stiffly shrugs out of his jacket and shirt, revealing three more wounds on his abdomen. He exhales sharply when he sees a wicked-looking slash on his chest, dragging from his right pectoral to his lower left ribcage. Son of a bitch. He looks lower and sees two smaller cuts on his stomach. Rolling his eyes in agitation, he wonders how many more wounds he could possibly have.
Hearing footsteps come out of the restroom, Dean looks up and the first thing he sees is a plastic box of some sort in one of Castiel’s hands. He eyes it suspiciously as the angel approaches him with the implements.
“What’s with the first aid kit?” he asks, quirking a brow.
“The cuts need to be cleansed before I treat them.”
Dean contemplates the fact that he and Sam hardly ever clean their injuries after a hunt. Huh. Maybe they should start cleaning their wounds before one of them has to saw off a limb or something.
Castiel balances the medical kit on a knee and opens it. He looks over the items, and takes something out. The alcoholic smell of a disinfectant cloth permeates the air.
Dean makes a face and wrinkles his nose at the scent, wonders how girls manage to put on nail polish without gagging in the process.
Before he can finish his thought, Castiel hesitantly grips his shoulder, using it as leverage so he can cleanse the bloody gash correctly. Castiel gently swipes the cloth over it, but quickly pulls back when Dean jerks back and twitches. “Fuck!”
“Can we just skip to the stitching part?” he groans.
Amused, Castiel waits for Dean to recompose himself before he wipes the cloth over the cut again. The hunter doesn’t pull back this time, but cringes a bit. “Hold still,” Castiel chides firmly.
With a few more swipes, Castiel finishes cleaning the wound in a short amount of time. He fumbles with the floss and needle before he’s able to thread a string of floss through the loop.
Dean sneaks a look at him, sees his eyes analyzing the cut before he decides to start at the bottom of it and move from there.
The back of Castiel’s right hand accidentally brushes against a nipple. Dean shivers instinctively at first, and then freezes and stiffens at the contact. His pupils widen for a fraction of a second when he looks at Castiel before his eyes rapidly dart around the room. What the hell was that?
Something hot settles in the pit of his stomach. Dean clears his throat, his gaze suddenly finding interest on a certain spot on the wall. He swallows dryly and rubs the back of his neck, looking at anything but Castiel.
“I should’ve thought of this before.”
Huh? Thought of what before? Dean meets Castiel’s gaze and his heart stops.
He knows that look anywhere, the one a girl has on her face before she bravely makes the first move and plants a kiss on his lips. But before he can freak out, Castiel tilts his chin up, leans in, and presses his lips to Dean’s, silencing his thoughts.
His heart starts to pound furiously. Wait. Soft lips innocently crush against his mouth. His breath quickens when he inhales the man’s intoxicating scent. He sees pale eyelids, and notices how peaceful the angel looks right now. Something about the serene expression on Castiel’s face makes Dean’s stomach flutter and do somersaults. He can’t even think about how strange it feels, stubble instead of smoothness rubbing over his skin, how the sure grip on his jaw isn’t what he’s used to.
And then, it hits him. Castiel. Cas is kissing me. His brain nearly malfunctions at that thought. He’s an angel. I’m kissing an angel.
Realizing that he couldn’t care less, Dean closes his eyes and kisses him back. He lifts a hand to rest on Castiel’s cheek, relishing the warmth of it. The angel’s lips slightly part in response, and Dean, being himself, takes advantage of that. He slides his tongue in and-Oh God, that feels really good-Castiel’s tongue meets his at the exact same moment. They tilt their heads simultaneously, deepening the kiss. Mimicking each other’s moves, they playfully tangle around each other, cherishing the sweet sensations sparking through their heated bodies.
Both of them are lost in a blissful haze before Dean tugs on Castiel’s trench coat, urging him to sit next to him. Castiel gets the memo and slowly gets up, not daring to break the kiss as if his life depended on it.
Dean feels the bed dip when Castiel sits next to him, but his mind’s cloudy from this whole thing. The embrace is so intimate, and feels like the most natural thing in the world, kissing an angel.
There’s no concept of space between them until Castiel gently pushes against Dean’s chest with his free hand. Dean tries to bite back a groan of refusal but fails. He hears Castiel quietly laugh into his mouth, sending vibrations down his spine and to the tips of his toes. They reluctantly start to pull away from each other, the sound of their lips parting making an inaudible sound.
Breathing heavily, Castiel leans his forehead against Dean’s. Dean lowers his hands to the bed sheets to steady himself. Both of them breathe heavily against each other; their faint panting is the only thing heard throughout the whole room.
“Dean.” He says it so softly, like a caress, but the emotion in it is prominent. Castiel’s piercing deep blue gaze mesmerizes him.
Dean feels something surge inside him, something glowing and luminous. It courses through his weary body. He allows it to trail every part of him, every strained muscle, and every tight vein. His eyes flutter shut when the mysterious light warms every inch of his body, washes over every spot with renewed strength. After a moment, it dims and fades. That’s when Dean’s aware of the fact that every wound on his body has vanished. All the scrapes and slashes no longer mar his body, no scars or traces left behind.
“Cas.” It comes out as a breathless whisper.
Castiel understands when Dean suddenly becomes drowsy. He sways toward the pillows on the bed and droops against the covers.
“Close your eyes,” Castiel says.
It’s the last thing Dean remembers.
The Next Day