fic(let), SPN: and my electric surges free (Dean/Castiel), pg
Title: and my electric surges free
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Word count: ∼1170
Rating: PG
Spoilers: let's pretend that S6 is over, they got a clue and hooked up, Cas decided to stay on Earth while still being an angel and they lived happily ever after, shall we? But apart from this pretense, nothing specific.
Warnings: none.
Summary: wherein they live together and they're doing something very mundane, and then Castiel's true form finds a way out. It's not a bad thing at all.
A/N: this was written for a meme and was supposed to be a drabble, then it got longer than I thought and I figured I'd just post it in one piece. xiaou_xijiang asked for Dean/Cas, either with true form!Cas or domestic AU where they're just being cute. I tried to do both. I just hope I pulled it off. ;) using for my kissbingo emotion: happiness square. Title from Bruce Springsteen.
You’re totally free not to believe it, but it’s not like Dean can change the embarrassing fact that the first time he sees Cas’s true form they are washing dishes.
Or better: Cas was washing and he was drying. It still doesn’t change the ridiculousness of the fact. It should have been this great moment full of meaning, a pivotal step in their miraculously surviving all odds relationship. Something they actually had discussed and agreed on before actually trying to see if Dean could stand it. It shouldn’t have been an accident due to the fact that Dean had bought a new random ecological stupid soap for the dishes because the one he usually got was out of stock.
Not like Dean would ever admit to a living soul that he kind of really likes this whole doing dishes together thing. It’s nice to just stand next to Cas, their hips touching more often than not, wet hands brushing whenever Cas hands him a dish or glass, a comfortable silence between them. And do it every night. It’s a routine he’s grown to appreciate.
And really, who knew that there was some stupid mineral in that soap which angels can’t touch while in their vessels. Who knew that such a thing was even possible - later, Castiel will tell him that an angel being forced out of their vessel by simple contact with a substance was a first. It had never happened before them, or at least as far as he knew. Figures, Dean will think, of course. With their life history it just make sense that it’d happen to them first and no one else.
Anyway, that’s not the point. It goes like this: one second Cas is standing close to him and the next he’s dropping the dish in his hands into the sink. It shatters into pieces as Cas’s fingers starts to shake, and Dean doesn’t even have time to ask what’s wrong.
“Close - close your eyes,” Cas blurts out, and Dean sees light exploding behind Cas’s eyelids, filtering through his skin, and then the kitchen’s lamp explodes and cracks appear on the windows’ glass. And Dean is about to do it, except -
He hadn’t closed his eyes when he stuck a sword into Zachariah, had he? And will he ever get a chance to see Cas’s true form again, since Cas never wanted to try in order not to risk blinding him even if Dean has asked a number of times?
Well, Dean never was one to let good chances go to waste, and he doesn’t close his eyes.
And Cas’s body disappears, engulfed by light, but - it doesn’t really hurt to look at it. It fills up the entire room and possibly beyond it, and when Dean finally manages to breathe he’s surrounded by it. But - it’s not just light. It’s not just white shiny ethereal matter. It pulses and glows, a different color whenever Dean moves his head. It’s - wow. He doesn’t even have words for it. And then that light sort of closes around him, almost - almost cradling him? It is coming into contact with him, even if gingerly. It feels warm, though, and not like he’s suffocating.
“Cas?”
You can see me.
It’s not a question.
“Uh. Yeah. Guess so. You’re - you weren’t lying when you said you were as tall as the Chrysler building, huh?”
I am merely occupying space as I can, but no, I wasn’t lying, Dean.
“Or you’d knock down the roof? Woah.” Dean looks at his left, red hues dancing along that still-pulsing light, and then they shift into blue and then into gold.
“You’re - you’re something, Cas. Even if - pretty elusive. I guess.”
If he raises his hands, it feels like he’s putting his hand in a bundle of electricity, even if it barely tingles.
I think there might be a remedy to that, Cas (though he should probably say Castiel now, right?) answers, and - his true voice is weird. It’s nothing like a human voice but Dean can hear words even if he couldn’t describe how it sounds.
And then he sees the light shifting, shaping itself, and suddenly a hand appears out of it, pulsing silver - and it touches Dean’s shoulder.
Dean’s breath is caught in his throat but before he can try to put a name to the warmth erupting inside his chest, another hand-shaped bundle of light touches his cheek, holding it up almost gingerly.
“You can - woah, this is -”
We can shape ourselves as we wish.
“So basically your true form is - not having one?”
Put in very crude terms, but essentially, yes, Castiel answers, and then Dean sees the bare traits of a face appearing - but a face he can’t describe, it’s barely cheeks and a chin, and then - oh. He stands still, so perfectly still, as he sees a mouth take shape as well. It’s a bare sketch of lips, and the light around him pulses faster as that mouth touches Dean’s. It does feel like electricity - it tingles and sends shivers along Dean’s spine, but - Dean can taste even if he’s the only one with a tongue. It’s just - it tastes like everything good he has ever eaten in his entire life put together, and like all the times he has felt good in his entire life, it tastes good in a way that he can only think of as absolute, and it lasts for maybe two seconds but Dean is breathless when it’s over.
He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until he feels salt on his lips.
And then the light becomes brighter for a second before retreating and dimming itself, and shrinking back into what seems a proper human body. Dean has to close his eyes for a handful of seconds, but when he opens them again there are human hands on his face brushing away stupid tears, and blue eyes looking up at him, and a small smile curving the corner of Cas’s lips upward.
Dean doesn’t even know what to say and so he reaches up a hand, tangling his fingers in Cas’s hair, and he kisses him for real, long and thorough and leaving them breathless. Cas tastes of that burger they had for dinner rather than whatever it was before, but as amazing as the experience has been, he can’t help welcoming back the familiarity of Cas’s human body.
Even if it still was fucking amazing.
“So you can just - take a random shape, when you’re - well, you?” Dean asks when they part, whispering it against Cas’s lips.
“In theory,” Cas replies. “But Dean, this is me now.”
There are things you just can’t answer in words. And now that Dean is sure about being able to stand the sight of an angel’s true form, he’s totally going to ask Cas if they can do that again. Sometime soon. But for now Dean leans forward and kisses Cas again, and again, and if the dishes are still dirty, they can wait.
End.
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Word count: ∼1170
Rating: PG
Spoilers: let's pretend that S6 is over, they got a clue and hooked up, Cas decided to stay on Earth while still being an angel and they lived happily ever after, shall we? But apart from this pretense, nothing specific.
Warnings: none.
Summary: wherein they live together and they're doing something very mundane, and then Castiel's true form finds a way out. It's not a bad thing at all.
A/N: this was written for a meme and was supposed to be a drabble, then it got longer than I thought and I figured I'd just post it in one piece. xiaou_xijiang asked for Dean/Cas, either with true form!Cas or domestic AU where they're just being cute. I tried to do both. I just hope I pulled it off. ;) using for my kissbingo emotion: happiness square. Title from Bruce Springsteen.
You’re totally free not to believe it, but it’s not like Dean can change the embarrassing fact that the first time he sees Cas’s true form they are washing dishes.
Or better: Cas was washing and he was drying. It still doesn’t change the ridiculousness of the fact. It should have been this great moment full of meaning, a pivotal step in their miraculously surviving all odds relationship. Something they actually had discussed and agreed on before actually trying to see if Dean could stand it. It shouldn’t have been an accident due to the fact that Dean had bought a new random ecological stupid soap for the dishes because the one he usually got was out of stock.
Not like Dean would ever admit to a living soul that he kind of really likes this whole doing dishes together thing. It’s nice to just stand next to Cas, their hips touching more often than not, wet hands brushing whenever Cas hands him a dish or glass, a comfortable silence between them. And do it every night. It’s a routine he’s grown to appreciate.
And really, who knew that there was some stupid mineral in that soap which angels can’t touch while in their vessels. Who knew that such a thing was even possible - later, Castiel will tell him that an angel being forced out of their vessel by simple contact with a substance was a first. It had never happened before them, or at least as far as he knew. Figures, Dean will think, of course. With their life history it just make sense that it’d happen to them first and no one else.
Anyway, that’s not the point. It goes like this: one second Cas is standing close to him and the next he’s dropping the dish in his hands into the sink. It shatters into pieces as Cas’s fingers starts to shake, and Dean doesn’t even have time to ask what’s wrong.
“Close - close your eyes,” Cas blurts out, and Dean sees light exploding behind Cas’s eyelids, filtering through his skin, and then the kitchen’s lamp explodes and cracks appear on the windows’ glass. And Dean is about to do it, except -
He hadn’t closed his eyes when he stuck a sword into Zachariah, had he? And will he ever get a chance to see Cas’s true form again, since Cas never wanted to try in order not to risk blinding him even if Dean has asked a number of times?
Well, Dean never was one to let good chances go to waste, and he doesn’t close his eyes.
And Cas’s body disappears, engulfed by light, but - it doesn’t really hurt to look at it. It fills up the entire room and possibly beyond it, and when Dean finally manages to breathe he’s surrounded by it. But - it’s not just light. It’s not just white shiny ethereal matter. It pulses and glows, a different color whenever Dean moves his head. It’s - wow. He doesn’t even have words for it. And then that light sort of closes around him, almost - almost cradling him? It is coming into contact with him, even if gingerly. It feels warm, though, and not like he’s suffocating.
“Cas?”
You can see me.
It’s not a question.
“Uh. Yeah. Guess so. You’re - you weren’t lying when you said you were as tall as the Chrysler building, huh?”
I am merely occupying space as I can, but no, I wasn’t lying, Dean.
“Or you’d knock down the roof? Woah.” Dean looks at his left, red hues dancing along that still-pulsing light, and then they shift into blue and then into gold.
“You’re - you’re something, Cas. Even if - pretty elusive. I guess.”
If he raises his hands, it feels like he’s putting his hand in a bundle of electricity, even if it barely tingles.
I think there might be a remedy to that, Cas (though he should probably say Castiel now, right?) answers, and - his true voice is weird. It’s nothing like a human voice but Dean can hear words even if he couldn’t describe how it sounds.
And then he sees the light shifting, shaping itself, and suddenly a hand appears out of it, pulsing silver - and it touches Dean’s shoulder.
Dean’s breath is caught in his throat but before he can try to put a name to the warmth erupting inside his chest, another hand-shaped bundle of light touches his cheek, holding it up almost gingerly.
“You can - woah, this is -”
We can shape ourselves as we wish.
“So basically your true form is - not having one?”
Put in very crude terms, but essentially, yes, Castiel answers, and then Dean sees the bare traits of a face appearing - but a face he can’t describe, it’s barely cheeks and a chin, and then - oh. He stands still, so perfectly still, as he sees a mouth take shape as well. It’s a bare sketch of lips, and the light around him pulses faster as that mouth touches Dean’s. It does feel like electricity - it tingles and sends shivers along Dean’s spine, but - Dean can taste even if he’s the only one with a tongue. It’s just - it tastes like everything good he has ever eaten in his entire life put together, and like all the times he has felt good in his entire life, it tastes good in a way that he can only think of as absolute, and it lasts for maybe two seconds but Dean is breathless when it’s over.
He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until he feels salt on his lips.
And then the light becomes brighter for a second before retreating and dimming itself, and shrinking back into what seems a proper human body. Dean has to close his eyes for a handful of seconds, but when he opens them again there are human hands on his face brushing away stupid tears, and blue eyes looking up at him, and a small smile curving the corner of Cas’s lips upward.
Dean doesn’t even know what to say and so he reaches up a hand, tangling his fingers in Cas’s hair, and he kisses him for real, long and thorough and leaving them breathless. Cas tastes of that burger they had for dinner rather than whatever it was before, but as amazing as the experience has been, he can’t help welcoming back the familiarity of Cas’s human body.
Even if it still was fucking amazing.
“So you can just - take a random shape, when you’re - well, you?” Dean asks when they part, whispering it against Cas’s lips.
“In theory,” Cas replies. “But Dean, this is me now.”
There are things you just can’t answer in words. And now that Dean is sure about being able to stand the sight of an angel’s true form, he’s totally going to ask Cas if they can do that again. Sometime soon. But for now Dean leans forward and kisses Cas again, and again, and if the dishes are still dirty, they can wait.
End.