Clouds - for commentfic
A cold jolt washed through Dean’s body as Castiel’s hand landed gently on his forearm. He really should have expected that the future Castiel would hold even less respect for his personal space than the present - or was it now past? - one did. He looked up from his cell phone’s blank screen, hardly seeing the point in trying to get the damn thing to work anyway, and unintentionally locked into Cas’ icy eyes. He glanced down at his forearm momentarily, and then back up at the angel human Cas. “What?”
Castiel just sort of stared, shuffled about a quarter of an inch forward, and then stared some more. Something akin to uneasy instinct settled into Dean’s stomach, but he tried to push it aside. “Cas, what?” and when the angel didn’t further reply, “What the hell has gotten into you?”
It took that much to break his stern, but thoughtful expression. “Illicit substances, mainly,” he joked, but there was a darker undertone that Dean chose to ignore. Castiel continued to look at him like he knew something that Dean did not - perhaps, five or so years of somethings, Dean remembered - and didn’t let go.
Just kind of... asked with his eyes.
“Well, whatever it is, you took too much,” Dean told him, and tried to pull his arm back so that Castiel would let go. It worked. “’Cause no offence, but I don’t swing that way.” He tried to pass it off as a joke, but didn’t believe himself.
“Oh,” This brought a smirk to Castiel’s lips. “That’s right. I forgot how... shy you used to be.”
Dean blinked at this. “Wait... used to be?”
“Dean, this is not exactly new territory for us. I mean, for you it is, but not us.” He watched with some amusement as Dean’s eyes, gold-fish-like, tried to pop out of his head.
“You mean, I, we... you... do that?”
Castiel nodded once, a smile on his lips. “Frequently.” When Dean did nothing but blink back at him, he tried a different approach. His face softened into a somewhat pleading expression, “Dean, please? Other you is busy, and well...” and Dean saw him cock that eyebrow up, right there.
“Cas, I - ”
“Relax. Past me will never know, God I didn’t even think that you... felt that way. Didn’t know I could feel that way. And chances are Zachariah’s eyes will be so far blown out of his skull that he won’t let you remember it either.” Damnit, Dean swore that those were puppy-dog eyes. “Dean, please?”
“You - can’t you just, maybe... a girl?” Dean stumbled, laughing somewhat frantically as he added, “You seem to get enough of them.”
Castiel’s was closer now. “It isn’t the same. You could ask future you... except that you wouldn’t tell you.”
“But couldn’t you - ”
“Dean, in three years from now, you’re going to tell me that this is what you want.” Castiel paused, his eyes alight. “I’m going to freak out like Hell, but I’m not going to be an angel for very long after that, anyway.”
“The future can change,” Dean didn’t know whether he said this for Castiel’s benefit, because of the sad glint in his eye when he spoke of being an angel, or his own. In either case, it didn’t assure either party.
“But it doesn’t,” Castiel’s voice was soft. “Dean, I’m already here. So are you, for the moment. So... just trust me, okay?” His hand fell back onto Dean’s arm. “Can you do this for me?”
“Cas, I appreciate the guilt trip, but...” He couldn’t look up; those eyes that would meet him burned. “Maybe in a few years, when the world is down the chute, then... I guess I don’t know. But not now, man. Not...”
“Not when you’ll be around long enough to regret it,” Castiel finished for him. There was something in his answer that told Dean the only reason this whole mess had started: because he was a reckless jerk with a ticking time bomb in his hands. Sounded nice and familiar.
“Cas, I just, it’s nothing personal, okay?”
And this time, his friend smiled. “It never is.”
Dean couldn’t see it in Castiel’s eyes - wouldn’t be able to for another few years, but Castiel sometimes forgot why it was he fell in the first place. Why he wasn’t up in Heaven, serving God and playing nice with his brothers.
Usually Dean - any Dean, apparently - served him with a reminder.
He knew why he’d picked this path -- as Dean went back to searching for cell phone coverage that he’d never find, and eventually moved onto cleaning his guns --
Because he’d discovered that he could give and take, love and be loved. Kill, and, invariably on occasion, be killed. Watch television, smoke strange chemicals, drink too much and wake up without a memory of the past night. Fight demons and croatoans and zombies and death. Get the girl, or guy, or angel, or demon, or whatever the hell he wanted.
He’d discovered that he was human, above all else, and he’d wanted to stay that way.
Castiel just sort of stared, shuffled about a quarter of an inch forward, and then stared some more. Something akin to uneasy instinct settled into Dean’s stomach, but he tried to push it aside. “Cas, what?” and when the angel didn’t further reply, “What the hell has gotten into you?”
It took that much to break his stern, but thoughtful expression. “Illicit substances, mainly,” he joked, but there was a darker undertone that Dean chose to ignore. Castiel continued to look at him like he knew something that Dean did not - perhaps, five or so years of somethings, Dean remembered - and didn’t let go.
Just kind of... asked with his eyes.
“Well, whatever it is, you took too much,” Dean told him, and tried to pull his arm back so that Castiel would let go. It worked. “’Cause no offence, but I don’t swing that way.” He tried to pass it off as a joke, but didn’t believe himself.
“Oh,” This brought a smirk to Castiel’s lips. “That’s right. I forgot how... shy you used to be.”
Dean blinked at this. “Wait... used to be?”
“Dean, this is not exactly new territory for us. I mean, for you it is, but not us.” He watched with some amusement as Dean’s eyes, gold-fish-like, tried to pop out of his head.
“You mean, I, we... you... do that?”
Castiel nodded once, a smile on his lips. “Frequently.” When Dean did nothing but blink back at him, he tried a different approach. His face softened into a somewhat pleading expression, “Dean, please? Other you is busy, and well...” and Dean saw him cock that eyebrow up, right there.
“Cas, I - ”
“Relax. Past me will never know, God I didn’t even think that you... felt that way. Didn’t know I could feel that way. And chances are Zachariah’s eyes will be so far blown out of his skull that he won’t let you remember it either.” Damnit, Dean swore that those were puppy-dog eyes. “Dean, please?”
“You - can’t you just, maybe... a girl?” Dean stumbled, laughing somewhat frantically as he added, “You seem to get enough of them.”
Castiel’s was closer now. “It isn’t the same. You could ask future you... except that you wouldn’t tell you.”
“But couldn’t you - ”
“Dean, in three years from now, you’re going to tell me that this is what you want.” Castiel paused, his eyes alight. “I’m going to freak out like Hell, but I’m not going to be an angel for very long after that, anyway.”
“The future can change,” Dean didn’t know whether he said this for Castiel’s benefit, because of the sad glint in his eye when he spoke of being an angel, or his own. In either case, it didn’t assure either party.
“But it doesn’t,” Castiel’s voice was soft. “Dean, I’m already here. So are you, for the moment. So... just trust me, okay?” His hand fell back onto Dean’s arm. “Can you do this for me?”
“Cas, I appreciate the guilt trip, but...” He couldn’t look up; those eyes that would meet him burned. “Maybe in a few years, when the world is down the chute, then... I guess I don’t know. But not now, man. Not...”
“Not when you’ll be around long enough to regret it,” Castiel finished for him. There was something in his answer that told Dean the only reason this whole mess had started: because he was a reckless jerk with a ticking time bomb in his hands. Sounded nice and familiar.
“Cas, I just, it’s nothing personal, okay?”
And this time, his friend smiled. “It never is.”
Dean couldn’t see it in Castiel’s eyes - wouldn’t be able to for another few years, but Castiel sometimes forgot why it was he fell in the first place. Why he wasn’t up in Heaven, serving God and playing nice with his brothers.
Usually Dean - any Dean, apparently - served him with a reminder.
He knew why he’d picked this path -- as Dean went back to searching for cell phone coverage that he’d never find, and eventually moved onto cleaning his guns --
Because he’d discovered that he could give and take, love and be loved. Kill, and, invariably on occasion, be killed. Watch television, smoke strange chemicals, drink too much and wake up without a memory of the past night. Fight demons and croatoans and zombies and death. Get the girl, or guy, or angel, or demon, or whatever the hell he wanted.
He’d discovered that he was human, above all else, and he’d wanted to stay that way.