Jump the Track prompt fics round #2
Length - 4,947 words total
Rating - NC-17
Summary - The second set of prompt fics for Jump the Track, including some Gabriel back story, Dean and Cas getting freaky in New Orleans, the boys shopping for their new house, Cas getting lost at college orientation, and a dose of jealous!Dean. More coming soon!
Warnings - Spoilers for Jump the Track (though can be read alone). Sexytimes.
Since You've Been Gone
(for leahnari, who wanted an insight into Gabriel's past)
Gabriel had thought about it a lot over the past nine years.
What were they all doing? Where even were they now? Of course, he knew where his dear old dad was. Not that he tended to watch any of the religious channels on TV, but there really wasn't any escape from knowing who Rev. Delacroix was. Voted most popular televangelist in a recent poll, and even getting guest spots on talk shows and current affairs programs. Gabriel could understand it - he'd caught a couple of his father's shows, and his sermons were pretty compelling for, well, sermons. He didn't spout any of the bigoted bullshit that so many of these guys went in for either; Gabriel had to give him credit for that. Still, he had to wonder how many of the reverend's devoted followers knew that he'd abandoned his whole family to go save the world ten years ago.
Gabriel understood, but that didn't make it any easier. Hell, they'd all been devastated. Their father might have lost the love of his life, but... the three of them had lost their mother. It wasn't Gabriel's fault that he'd inherited Christine's laugh, not Michael's that he had her eyes, nor Castiel's that he had her sweet, serious temperament. Just like it wasn't their fault that their father couldn't bear to be around them. Well, if his father could try to forget, then so could Gabriel.
Easier said than done, though. Mostly, he thought about his little brothers, Michael and Castiel. Especially Castiel. He'd been such a funny kid. Not funny like Gabriel, but he'd been funny in that way where he didn't know he was being funny, and he'd taken everything so very seriously. He used to get so mad at Gabriel if he laughed.
Gabriel could still remember that last night. He remembered how Castiel had cried and begged him not to go, and it still made guilt rush through him.
Gabriel was pretty sure that he'd been the only one to understand what was happening. Maybe Michael had as well, but he'd just been so angry, and there was no reasoning with him. He'd always been sensitive. and when Christine had died and their father left them, Michael had just closed in on himself. He'd grown sullen and cold, and he hadn't wanted to hear anything Gabriel had to say. He'd buried himself in his studies, and comforted himself with prayer. Gabriel knew it would have been useless to try and persuade him to leave.
Then there was little Cas, not even ten years old. What would he be now, eighteen? Cas, whom Gabriel couldn't bear to leave without a fight.
"We'd be okay," he said, his voice low in the darkness of Castiel's room. "I'd take care of you. I got some money saved up. We could go to New York! Get away from all of this! Dad doesn't care about us any more, and you can't tell me you want to stay here with Uncle Zach. Come on, Cas. I won't let anything bad happen to you."
Castiel had cried, and told Gabriel over and over that he was scared. He'd begged Gabriel not to leave.
Gabriel had left.
Feeling guilt-stricken, he'd tried calling Cas a few months later, from the crappy motel room he was staying in. The phone was disconnected. He later discovered that the family had been moving around, but by that time he was too disheartened. It was highly unlikely that dear old Uncle Zachariah would let him talk to either of his brothers, and who was to say that Castiel would want to hear from him anyway? What would Gabriel be able to tell him? That he'd gotten a fake I.D. and some seedy job working as an assistant on porno films? That was hardly something a good Christian boy like Castiel would want to know about. Even now, with his New York penthouse and his jet-setting lifestyle, he was hardly a reputable figure. He was good at what he did, and he wasn't ashamed. He'd worked hard for it. Okay, he'd also cheated a few people along the way, but hey, that took effort too. And it wasn't like there was anything wrong with producing porn, or even owning the rights to a couple of skin mags. It just... wasn't something the Delacroix family would want to be associated with.
So Gabriel did his best to forget. He pretended he didn't have a family. He buried himself in his companies, and in his hedonistic lifestyle. Because the more fun he had, the less time he had to think about the aching loneliness at the heart of him. Right?
It was an ordinary afternoon in early May when he'd received the call. Recently returned from an extended lunch break, he'd been reading over a proposal in his office when the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hello..." The voice on the line was gravelly, oddly formal, a little hesitant. "Hello, am I speaking to Gabriel Delacroix?"
Gabriel blinked. How long had it been since anyone had used that name? "No one calls me that, man. It's Gabe."
"Ah... my apologies."
"No problem. How can I help you?"
"I... It's Castiel."
That Voodoo That He Do
(for butterflyishida, who wanted a fic about the boys' adventures on the road)
New Orleans was awesome. Dean was convinced of this as soon as he rolled into town. The Deep South had been... an interesting experience for both of them, to say the least. Most of the time they'd had to keep the fact that they were lovers strictly under wraps. They were, after all, in the heart of the Bible Belt, and while Dean didn't care what anyone thought about them, he would hate for some stupid homophobic comment to hurt Castiel. Overall, they'd thought it best to just keep a low profile and not let anything spoil the trip.
Nola was different. It was like a little island of liberalism, the kind of place where anything goes.
They met up with Pam on the first night, who was staying with an aunt before she set off on her year of traveling with Dean's cousin, Gwen. The two had decided to team up for the trip after hitting it off when Gwen had visited the Winchesters, but had put their departure on hold so they could see Dean and Castiel.
Dean loved the way the air felt heavy, and the Spanish moss in the trees, and the way the call of the cicadas echoed so loudly. He loved the cracked sidewalks, and the rattling streetcars, and the jazz bars on Bourbon Street.
"You know, I could totally live here," he told Castiel.
Castiel nodded seriously, like everything Dean said was of great import. "It's pleasant. The Garden District was beautiful, and I loved the penguins at the aquarium."
Dean smiled. Cas and the penguins.
The great thing about Pam was that she was a bad influence in the best possible way. She'd found what was apparently the oldest gay bar in America down Bourbon Street, and they'd spent the whole night drinking and dancing. She'd even talked Cas into dancing, which was a bit of a miracle in itself.
There was one area, however, where he couldn't be swayed. Gwen knew of a little voodoo temple and shop down one of the back streets, and of course Pam was desperate to go. Dean's only experience of voodoo was through horror movies, but hey, he was up for anything. Besides, they were moving on to the next leg in their journey tomorrow, so who knew when they'd be back.
"I'm just not comfortable with it," Cas said, staring into his coffee cup.
"But it's nothing bad!" Pam insisted. "It's just like any other religion! It's all about peace and being at one with nature, and communing with spirituality!"
"I... I'm just not... I understand all that, and I have the utmost respect for other beliefs, I just... I was raised to think that... I mean, I just don't understand. And if I went they would sense my discomfort and they might..."
"What, hit you with a hoodoo curse?" Dean interjected.
Castiel looked at him balefully. "It's just a little too different from what I... from my own... Look, the three of you should go, and I'll meet you later. I need to write postcards to Anna and Gabriel anyway."
They had left him at Cafe du Monde, drinking his second cup of coffee, and trying to brush the sugar from his beignets off the front of his shirt. Dean had a feeling that he would be dealing with a very jittery and hyperactive boyfriend later.
Voodoo was not what Dean had expected. He supposed that this was his own fault by making assumptions about religion based on horror films. This had, after all, been responsible for the completely irrational fear of Catholicism he'd developed as a child after seeing a bit of The Exorcist as a child, spying through the banisters as his parents watched the film, and somehow assuming that Father Carras was responsible for Regan's possession.
No one was sacrificing cockerels or sticking pins in dolls. There were no wide-eyed zombie's lurking in the corners. There was just a very warm and friendly voodoo priestess, who was happy to discuss clairvoyancy with Pam, and chat about the history of the city. There was a snake, a sleepy looking python, kept in a cage in a corner of the temple.
What stuck Dean was how voodoo was kind of like... America itself. A mixture of a lot of different things. The temple was completely full of... stuff. If Dean was perfectly honest, he'd say it looked like his bedroom did when it drove his mother to the point of threatening to take everything down the tip if he didn't tidy it. But the temple wasn't messy, it was just full. There were African statues beside pictures of the Virgin Mary, postcards of Hindu gods wedged between waving cats from Japan. He read a leaflet about how slaves had brought their religions over from the Caribbean, and how this had gradually been mixed with parts of the Christian religion, and it had expanded until voodoo had become this all-encompassing faith. Dean liked it. He had a feeling that Cas would have liked it too. Dean felt like this was probably all his fault for insisting that they watch Angel Heart and The Skeleton Key when they decided that they would be visiting New Orleans. Neither film portrayed voodoo in the most positive light, and poor Cas had been a little freaked.
"I feel a bit stupid," Castiel told him later when they were alone.
Dean had him in an embrace from behind, and was slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "Why?" He kissed the nape of Castiel's neck.
Castiel let out a shuddering breath. "Well, I... I feel a bit stupid about the whole voodoo thing. I mean, I was talking to a lady at the cafe after you'd gone, and she... hm... she said that voodoo was a kind of... all-encompassing system of belief where the spiritual and the physical are perfectly attuned, and... ah... well, I... I wish I hadn't been so quick to judge. Don't... don't stop..."
Dean, who had been massaging him through the material of his pants, had paused to listen. "Sorry." He resumed his slow, teasing strokes. There was something about the heavy, sticky air in New Orleans that made them almost perpetually horny.
"Don't feel bad," he said thickly, half an hour later, as Castiel rode him slowly. "I... get why you were freaked. Shouldn't... have shown you all those movies."
He loved being able to watch Castiel like this, see the way his hips worked, the expressions on his face. Cas leaned forward, his hands on Dean's shoulders. A few strands of hair fell across his forehead. His cheeks were flushed. Dean grabbed his thighs and began to thrust up into him, hard and fast, watching as Castiel's eyes became unfocused with pleasure.
Dean thought that Castiel had the hottest orgasm face he'd ever seen. He still looked so surprised by the pleasure, as if he still couldn't believe anything would feel that good, in spite of the amount of times they'd fucked. The sounds he made were rapturous, exquisite, like he finally understood that the god he still had so much faith in had given him this ability, this capacity for pleasure, so he got to experience a taste of Heaven on earth.
Dean managed to last a few seconds longer, then the pressure inside him erupted into hard, bright bursts of pleasure which made his bones feel like they were melting inside him.
Castiel climbed off him and flopped down on the bed, shaking. "I love feeling you come inside me," he gasped.
Dean took a moment to catch his breath. Castiel was really, really good at sex. "Why do we even bother getting out of bed?" He said at last, his voice still a little unsteady. "I mean... why don't we just do that all the time? I mean, especially now we've found a motel that has a bed with magic fingers."
Castiel chuckled. "You and the magic fingers."
"Seriously though, why don't we just stay here?"
"I admit, it is tempting."
Dean rolled over and reached for his duffel bag. "Hey, I got you something today. I thought you'd like it."
He pulled a little paper bag out of one of the side pockets, and handed it over. Castiel reached inside and pulled out a tiny talisman in the shape of an angel.
"Apparently it's a good luck charm," Dean said. "It's supposed to ensure safe travel."
Cas smiled at him. "I love it. Thank you, Dean."
Dean leaned over to kiss him. The air con was cooling the sweat on his skin, and it made him shiver.
"Come on," Castiel said. "Shower."
When they left the following afternoon, it felt way too soon.
Adulthood
(For Sarah, who wanted to see Dean and Cas shopping for their new home)
There were certain things about being an adult that Dean could happily do without. In an ideal world, he'd just be able to go to work, come home, eat dinner, and have sex with Castiel. And someone else would take care of things like getting food in, and buying household necessities.
This wasn't an ideal world.
It wasn't that Dean was completely undomesticated; he'd been doing his own laundry and helping out with household chores since a fairly early age. "No son of mine is going to leave home without knowing how to use a washer-drier," Mary had insisted.
All the same, having to do things like buying bed linen had never occurred to Dean. He looked back wistfully on his days of innocence as he and Castiel trawled the isles of the Bed, Bath and Beyond store in Ithaca.
"I feel as though thread counts are something I should care about," Castiel said, miserably. "But I don't understand why."
Dean sighed. "Oh, let's just get anything. I don't care. We still have to buy towels after this. See, I told you we should've taken some from that last motel we were in."
Castiel sent him a quelling look. They were both tired and prone to be irritable, and Dean had been a little sharp with him because Cas had spent an unreasonable amount of time looking at various overpriced picture frames. Dean had pointed out that they didn't need picture frames, not owning any pictures to put in them, that they were wasting time, and he really couldn't see why they couldn't just buy everything in IKEA. It would be a lot cheaper. Castiel had said that he didn't know where the nearest IKEA was, and that they were paying for quality. And besides, why shouldn't he look at nice things as well as boring essentials? He'd never had the opportunity to buy things for a home before. Dean had pointed out that he'd never shopped for these things before either, and that Castiel always played the 'I'm so sheltered and was never given a chance at a normal life' card to guilt Dean into letting him do what he wanted, and Cas had been in a bad mood with him ever since.
Cas rarely ever got openly angry; he showed his displeasure through being withdrawn and sulky. Dean hated it. He would have preferred Cas to just yell at him. No one else he knew had a problem with yelling at Dean.
He found a selection of nondescript white towels, and put a few in their basket. They were pretty expensive, but seeing as Castiel was paying for all this with the allowance Gabriel was giving him, the price wasn't Dean's problem.
"Which sheets do you prefer?" Castiel asked, his tone deceptively light. "I wouldn't want to pick any that were too extravagant."
"Oh, for... Cas, would you get over it? Look, I'm sorry if I was an ass earlier, okay? I'm just not into this whole..." He gestured around them.
"You think I am? Believe it or not, I would much rather be at home with a good book and a cup of tea. But forgive me for trying to make the best out of a mundane task. You have been nothing but recalcitrant since we came in!"
"I have not been recalcitrant!" Dean didn't know what it meant.
"You have."
Dean thought back to what he would have been doing a year ago. Past!Dean would never for a minute suspected that right now he would be arguing with his boyfriend in Bed, Bath and Beyond, in Ithaca, NY. His life was ridiculous.
"Well, fine. What bed sheets do you like?"
Castiel looked at him mulishly.
"Come on, Cas, I'm trying to be accommodating here. Gimme a break, okay?"
Castiel rolled his eyes. "That's good of you."
"Jesus! Do you have to be so passive-aggressive all the time? Do you have any idea how fucking annoying it is?"
"Do you have any idea how annoying it is when you're sarcastic and mean?" Castiel's voice was low and venomous; he was actually pretty scary when he was angry. Not that Dean was going to admit that.
"Could you just tell me what sheets you like so we can get the hell out of here?"
"I like the green ones!" Castiel snapped.
"Yeah, well, so do I!"
They stared at each other furiously for a few seconds. Then the corner of Dean's mouth twitched. The next moment they were both laughing so hard that they were practically crying, grabbing onto each other for support. A couple of nearby women looked at them as though they'd gone crazy. Bed, Bath and Beyond was not a place that usually inspired hysterics.
It took a minute or two for them to compose themselves.
Dean shook his head. "That has to be the most ridiculous argument we've had to date."
"I believe the one in Boston about pizza toppings may still be sillier."
"Yeah, you're right, that was sillier. Hey, I'm sorry I was a jerk."
Cas nodded. "Me too."
Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's buy this and get out of here. I'll get you a coffee."
They made their way to the counter, giving each other sidelong smiles, both feeling a little embarrassed.
There were some things about growing up that were kind of nice, Dean realized. When he was younger he'd thought that the mark of a happy relationship was never having arguments, but he was learning that this wasn't true. The mark of a happy relationship was being able to laugh about the arguments you do have.
Dean knew, as they lugged their purchases out of the store and shoved them in the back of the impala, that he and Cas were going to make it.
The Little Things
(For Sarah again, who wanted Dean helping Cas out at college orientation)
"I'm lost!"
There was a slight edge of panic to Castiel's voice. Dean checked around him - he wasn't really supposed to take personal calls at work, and this was his first week on the job. Luckily his boss wasn't anywhere in sight.
"What d'you mean, lost?"
"I mean that I have a meeting at Bailey Hall in five minutes, and I lost my map, and I have no idea where it is!"
Dean frowned. "Wait, what about that girl you've been talking to, um... Rachel? Have you tried calling her? You have her number, right?"
"I tried, but she has her phone turned off. She must already be there. I can't believe this. It's my first day of orientation, and I'm already going to miss something. This really isn't the most auspicious start."
Castiel really did like the long words.
"Um... okay. You're not gonna miss it. I think I've still got my campus map in the car. Hold on, Cas."
Dean checked once more for his boss, then ran out to the lot where he'd parked the impala. He rummaged in the glove compartment, certain that he'd stashed a copy of the campus map in there. If not... well, he'd think of something. Castiel really was very new at this whole coping on his own thing. Bingo. He unfolded the map and smoothed it out over his knee, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear.
"Cas? Yeah, I got the map. Uh... Okay, there are a lot of halls. Which one was it you have to go to?"
"Bailey Hall!" There was a bite of impatience now. "I... I'm sorry, Dean, I just... I hate being late."
"I know, it's okay. Right, I found it. Okay, where are you?"
"I... There's a big building on my right. It's... Goldwin Smith Hall."
"Okay, gotcha. You're close. Go straight ahead until you reach the crossroads, take a left, then another left at the next crossroads. Bailey Hall's on the second road along."
"Thank you, Dean. Thank you so much, I... I have to go."
"Me too. See you later, Cas."
Dean got home that night to find that Castiel had ordered Chinese.
"I would have cooked," he said, "but I don't feel that my culinary skills are up to the task."
Dean had to agree, considering Castiel had managed to burn scrambled eggs the other morning. "This is awesome, Cas. What's the occasion?"
"Well, I thought we should celebrate my first day at college. Besides, I owe you for getting me to that lecture on time earlier. I wouldn't have made it without you."
Dean shrugged, picking out a carton of crispy duck. "It was nothing."
"Well, it was something to me. You're the very first person to do 'nothing' things for me in a long while. And it matters. It makes the difference between wandering through life alone, knowing that you only have yourself to rely on, and... and knowing that you're part of someone else's life. That someone else will think of you, and you don't have to solve everything on your own. I'm grateful to not be alone any more."
Dean smiled, reaching out to brush a lock of hair back off Castiel's forehead. "Well, you're welcome in that case. Personally, I think we make a pretty awesome team."
Castiel smiled crookedly. "I quite agree. Now, I recall you promising to teach me how to use chopsticks."
Dean grabbed a couple of plates. "Sure. Though I can't guarantee I'll be much help when it comes to eating rice - still haven't quite mastered that one myself." He looked up, and saw that Castiel was watching him with a little smile on his lips. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm just... I'm happy. I'm happy I'm living this life that I'd never thought I'd have, and, you know, going to college and meeting people, and... I'm glad I'm not doing it alone. I would have done, but... I'm glad I don't have to. I'm glad I have you."
Dean leaned in and kissed him. "Course you do. I've always got your back, Cas."
Jealousy
"We should make a trip to New York together some time," Crowley said. "There's an exhibition on at the Met I want to see. Oh, and there's a great oyster bar at Grand Central Station. You ever had oysters, Castiel?"
Castiel pressed his lips together with a small frown. "No, I... I honestly can't say they've ever appealed to me. I would like to see the art exhibition though."
Crowley chuckled. "You should give oysters a try. Amongst other things, they're a great aphrodisiac. Okay, angel, I'll check my diary and we'll make a date of it."
Dean, sitting next to Castiel at the frankly overpriced restaurant Crowley had picked out, balled his fists to hard that his nails cut into his palms. Maddy, sitting across from him, gave him a warning look. Okay, okay. Dean knew. This was Sparrow's birthday dinner, and he couldn't make a scene.
Dean liked the vast majority of Castiel's college friends. He'd worried at first that they'd look down on him for working at a garage and just taking night school in business, while they all attended a prestigious Ivy League school, but they'd been really nice.
When it came to Crowley, however, Dean had issues. There was just something up with the guy. Okay, so the main issue was that he wouldn't stop flirting with Castiel, and Cas was completely oblivious. He never knew when people were flirting with him, and refused to believe it whenever Dean grumpily pointed out that someone was displaying interest. He and Crowley took History of Art together, and he was still insisting that Crowley had nothing more than friendship in mind. It was driving Dean crazy. He just didn't trust Crowley. It didn't help that he was everything that Dean wasn't. With his expensive clothes and his British accent, and his knowledge of all this... cultural shit. A horrible insecure voice in the back of Dean's head kept telling him that Crowley was the kind of person Castiel should be with. Someone who could match him intellectually.
"Crowley flirts with everyone," Sparrow had said to Dean when he mentioned his discontent. "I mean, I've known the guy for a while now, and that's just what he's like, you know? It doesn't mean anything. He's a flirt. Men, women, gay, straight, young, old... he's equal opportunities! Seriously, I wouldn't let it worry you."
But it did worry Dean.
They were all going to see some play after dinner, but Dean had to go to his business class. He watched them leave together in a taxi, Crowley leaning over to say something to Castiel conspiratorially, and felt jealousy burn in his gut. He had always known that Cas was a league above him, but it hadn't really mattered that much before. There hadn't been any Crowleys at Lawrence High. Cas was part of this world now, a world that Dean was completely cut off from.
Castiel wasn't home when Dean got back from night school. Probably out with his smart friends having fun. Dean cracked open a beer, put Silence of the Lambs (his comfort movie), and fell asleep on the couch.
He was woken up by soft kisses being planted on his face. Dean hummed contentedly, and pulled Castiel down on top of him. "Hey, you," he breathed.
"Hello, you."
"How was the play?"
"Good. But I spent the whole time wishing that I was home with you."
Dean cracked his eyes open. He wondered if that was true, or if Castiel was just saying it to mollify him.
"I mean it," Castiel said, reading his thoughts.
Dean sighed fretfully. "I just wish Crowley would stop acting that way around you. And don't tell me that that's just how he is with everyone. Not everyone is in a relationship." He moved his legs apart so that Castiel could lie more comfortably.
Cas looked down at him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you don't trust him, and that you feel his intentions are dishonorable. He really is a good friend once you get to know him. But even if you don't trust him... you trust me, don't you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, of course."
"Well then you'll know that even if his behavior did become inappropriate, I would put a stop to it."
Dean looked away. "It's not that. I mean, I know. I know you'd never let anything happen. That's not what I'm worried about."
"What then?"
This was embarrassing.
"Dean."
"I'm worried that you might want it to. I'm worried that you'll see that you have an opportunity with him, this guy who's all rich and charming and educated, and then you'll look at me. Dean Winchester the mechanic. And... and you'll be disappointed. I never want you to feel that way."
"Dean, I would never. I meant what I said before - all evening, enjoyable though it was, the only thing I could think about was how much I was looking forward to being alone with you. You are the best person I have ever known, and I'm honored to be with you. I'm honored that you chose me, even though I'm strange and awkward and I have a crazy family. I'm honored that you've moved all the way here to be with me. I don't care that you don't know about European history, or art, or Russian literature. Do you think any of that really matters? You're brave and kind and clever, and I'm in love with you."
Dean pulled him down into a kiss, feeling the tension in his heart lessening. Crowley might have a lot going for him, but Castiel had chosen Dean. Castiel loved Dean, and that was worth all the Armani suits and country club memberships in the world.
Rating - NC-17
Summary - The second set of prompt fics for Jump the Track, including some Gabriel back story, Dean and Cas getting freaky in New Orleans, the boys shopping for their new house, Cas getting lost at college orientation, and a dose of jealous!Dean. More coming soon!
Warnings - Spoilers for Jump the Track (though can be read alone). Sexytimes.
Since You've Been Gone
(for leahnari, who wanted an insight into Gabriel's past)
Gabriel had thought about it a lot over the past nine years.
What were they all doing? Where even were they now? Of course, he knew where his dear old dad was. Not that he tended to watch any of the religious channels on TV, but there really wasn't any escape from knowing who Rev. Delacroix was. Voted most popular televangelist in a recent poll, and even getting guest spots on talk shows and current affairs programs. Gabriel could understand it - he'd caught a couple of his father's shows, and his sermons were pretty compelling for, well, sermons. He didn't spout any of the bigoted bullshit that so many of these guys went in for either; Gabriel had to give him credit for that. Still, he had to wonder how many of the reverend's devoted followers knew that he'd abandoned his whole family to go save the world ten years ago.
Gabriel understood, but that didn't make it any easier. Hell, they'd all been devastated. Their father might have lost the love of his life, but... the three of them had lost their mother. It wasn't Gabriel's fault that he'd inherited Christine's laugh, not Michael's that he had her eyes, nor Castiel's that he had her sweet, serious temperament. Just like it wasn't their fault that their father couldn't bear to be around them. Well, if his father could try to forget, then so could Gabriel.
Easier said than done, though. Mostly, he thought about his little brothers, Michael and Castiel. Especially Castiel. He'd been such a funny kid. Not funny like Gabriel, but he'd been funny in that way where he didn't know he was being funny, and he'd taken everything so very seriously. He used to get so mad at Gabriel if he laughed.
Gabriel could still remember that last night. He remembered how Castiel had cried and begged him not to go, and it still made guilt rush through him.
Gabriel was pretty sure that he'd been the only one to understand what was happening. Maybe Michael had as well, but he'd just been so angry, and there was no reasoning with him. He'd always been sensitive. and when Christine had died and their father left them, Michael had just closed in on himself. He'd grown sullen and cold, and he hadn't wanted to hear anything Gabriel had to say. He'd buried himself in his studies, and comforted himself with prayer. Gabriel knew it would have been useless to try and persuade him to leave.
Then there was little Cas, not even ten years old. What would he be now, eighteen? Cas, whom Gabriel couldn't bear to leave without a fight.
"We'd be okay," he said, his voice low in the darkness of Castiel's room. "I'd take care of you. I got some money saved up. We could go to New York! Get away from all of this! Dad doesn't care about us any more, and you can't tell me you want to stay here with Uncle Zach. Come on, Cas. I won't let anything bad happen to you."
Castiel had cried, and told Gabriel over and over that he was scared. He'd begged Gabriel not to leave.
Gabriel had left.
Feeling guilt-stricken, he'd tried calling Cas a few months later, from the crappy motel room he was staying in. The phone was disconnected. He later discovered that the family had been moving around, but by that time he was too disheartened. It was highly unlikely that dear old Uncle Zachariah would let him talk to either of his brothers, and who was to say that Castiel would want to hear from him anyway? What would Gabriel be able to tell him? That he'd gotten a fake I.D. and some seedy job working as an assistant on porno films? That was hardly something a good Christian boy like Castiel would want to know about. Even now, with his New York penthouse and his jet-setting lifestyle, he was hardly a reputable figure. He was good at what he did, and he wasn't ashamed. He'd worked hard for it. Okay, he'd also cheated a few people along the way, but hey, that took effort too. And it wasn't like there was anything wrong with producing porn, or even owning the rights to a couple of skin mags. It just... wasn't something the Delacroix family would want to be associated with.
So Gabriel did his best to forget. He pretended he didn't have a family. He buried himself in his companies, and in his hedonistic lifestyle. Because the more fun he had, the less time he had to think about the aching loneliness at the heart of him. Right?
It was an ordinary afternoon in early May when he'd received the call. Recently returned from an extended lunch break, he'd been reading over a proposal in his office when the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hello..." The voice on the line was gravelly, oddly formal, a little hesitant. "Hello, am I speaking to Gabriel Delacroix?"
Gabriel blinked. How long had it been since anyone had used that name? "No one calls me that, man. It's Gabe."
"Ah... my apologies."
"No problem. How can I help you?"
"I... It's Castiel."
That Voodoo That He Do
(for butterflyishida, who wanted a fic about the boys' adventures on the road)
New Orleans was awesome. Dean was convinced of this as soon as he rolled into town. The Deep South had been... an interesting experience for both of them, to say the least. Most of the time they'd had to keep the fact that they were lovers strictly under wraps. They were, after all, in the heart of the Bible Belt, and while Dean didn't care what anyone thought about them, he would hate for some stupid homophobic comment to hurt Castiel. Overall, they'd thought it best to just keep a low profile and not let anything spoil the trip.
Nola was different. It was like a little island of liberalism, the kind of place where anything goes.
They met up with Pam on the first night, who was staying with an aunt before she set off on her year of traveling with Dean's cousin, Gwen. The two had decided to team up for the trip after hitting it off when Gwen had visited the Winchesters, but had put their departure on hold so they could see Dean and Castiel.
Dean loved the way the air felt heavy, and the Spanish moss in the trees, and the way the call of the cicadas echoed so loudly. He loved the cracked sidewalks, and the rattling streetcars, and the jazz bars on Bourbon Street.
"You know, I could totally live here," he told Castiel.
Castiel nodded seriously, like everything Dean said was of great import. "It's pleasant. The Garden District was beautiful, and I loved the penguins at the aquarium."
Dean smiled. Cas and the penguins.
The great thing about Pam was that she was a bad influence in the best possible way. She'd found what was apparently the oldest gay bar in America down Bourbon Street, and they'd spent the whole night drinking and dancing. She'd even talked Cas into dancing, which was a bit of a miracle in itself.
There was one area, however, where he couldn't be swayed. Gwen knew of a little voodoo temple and shop down one of the back streets, and of course Pam was desperate to go. Dean's only experience of voodoo was through horror movies, but hey, he was up for anything. Besides, they were moving on to the next leg in their journey tomorrow, so who knew when they'd be back.
"I'm just not comfortable with it," Cas said, staring into his coffee cup.
"But it's nothing bad!" Pam insisted. "It's just like any other religion! It's all about peace and being at one with nature, and communing with spirituality!"
"I... I'm just not... I understand all that, and I have the utmost respect for other beliefs, I just... I was raised to think that... I mean, I just don't understand. And if I went they would sense my discomfort and they might..."
"What, hit you with a hoodoo curse?" Dean interjected.
Castiel looked at him balefully. "It's just a little too different from what I... from my own... Look, the three of you should go, and I'll meet you later. I need to write postcards to Anna and Gabriel anyway."
They had left him at Cafe du Monde, drinking his second cup of coffee, and trying to brush the sugar from his beignets off the front of his shirt. Dean had a feeling that he would be dealing with a very jittery and hyperactive boyfriend later.
Voodoo was not what Dean had expected. He supposed that this was his own fault by making assumptions about religion based on horror films. This had, after all, been responsible for the completely irrational fear of Catholicism he'd developed as a child after seeing a bit of The Exorcist as a child, spying through the banisters as his parents watched the film, and somehow assuming that Father Carras was responsible for Regan's possession.
No one was sacrificing cockerels or sticking pins in dolls. There were no wide-eyed zombie's lurking in the corners. There was just a very warm and friendly voodoo priestess, who was happy to discuss clairvoyancy with Pam, and chat about the history of the city. There was a snake, a sleepy looking python, kept in a cage in a corner of the temple.
What stuck Dean was how voodoo was kind of like... America itself. A mixture of a lot of different things. The temple was completely full of... stuff. If Dean was perfectly honest, he'd say it looked like his bedroom did when it drove his mother to the point of threatening to take everything down the tip if he didn't tidy it. But the temple wasn't messy, it was just full. There were African statues beside pictures of the Virgin Mary, postcards of Hindu gods wedged between waving cats from Japan. He read a leaflet about how slaves had brought their religions over from the Caribbean, and how this had gradually been mixed with parts of the Christian religion, and it had expanded until voodoo had become this all-encompassing faith. Dean liked it. He had a feeling that Cas would have liked it too. Dean felt like this was probably all his fault for insisting that they watch Angel Heart and The Skeleton Key when they decided that they would be visiting New Orleans. Neither film portrayed voodoo in the most positive light, and poor Cas had been a little freaked.
"I feel a bit stupid," Castiel told him later when they were alone.
Dean had him in an embrace from behind, and was slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "Why?" He kissed the nape of Castiel's neck.
Castiel let out a shuddering breath. "Well, I... I feel a bit stupid about the whole voodoo thing. I mean, I was talking to a lady at the cafe after you'd gone, and she... hm... she said that voodoo was a kind of... all-encompassing system of belief where the spiritual and the physical are perfectly attuned, and... ah... well, I... I wish I hadn't been so quick to judge. Don't... don't stop..."
Dean, who had been massaging him through the material of his pants, had paused to listen. "Sorry." He resumed his slow, teasing strokes. There was something about the heavy, sticky air in New Orleans that made them almost perpetually horny.
"Don't feel bad," he said thickly, half an hour later, as Castiel rode him slowly. "I... get why you were freaked. Shouldn't... have shown you all those movies."
He loved being able to watch Castiel like this, see the way his hips worked, the expressions on his face. Cas leaned forward, his hands on Dean's shoulders. A few strands of hair fell across his forehead. His cheeks were flushed. Dean grabbed his thighs and began to thrust up into him, hard and fast, watching as Castiel's eyes became unfocused with pleasure.
Dean thought that Castiel had the hottest orgasm face he'd ever seen. He still looked so surprised by the pleasure, as if he still couldn't believe anything would feel that good, in spite of the amount of times they'd fucked. The sounds he made were rapturous, exquisite, like he finally understood that the god he still had so much faith in had given him this ability, this capacity for pleasure, so he got to experience a taste of Heaven on earth.
Dean managed to last a few seconds longer, then the pressure inside him erupted into hard, bright bursts of pleasure which made his bones feel like they were melting inside him.
Castiel climbed off him and flopped down on the bed, shaking. "I love feeling you come inside me," he gasped.
Dean took a moment to catch his breath. Castiel was really, really good at sex. "Why do we even bother getting out of bed?" He said at last, his voice still a little unsteady. "I mean... why don't we just do that all the time? I mean, especially now we've found a motel that has a bed with magic fingers."
Castiel chuckled. "You and the magic fingers."
"Seriously though, why don't we just stay here?"
"I admit, it is tempting."
Dean rolled over and reached for his duffel bag. "Hey, I got you something today. I thought you'd like it."
He pulled a little paper bag out of one of the side pockets, and handed it over. Castiel reached inside and pulled out a tiny talisman in the shape of an angel.
"Apparently it's a good luck charm," Dean said. "It's supposed to ensure safe travel."
Cas smiled at him. "I love it. Thank you, Dean."
Dean leaned over to kiss him. The air con was cooling the sweat on his skin, and it made him shiver.
"Come on," Castiel said. "Shower."
When they left the following afternoon, it felt way too soon.
Adulthood
(For Sarah, who wanted to see Dean and Cas shopping for their new home)
There were certain things about being an adult that Dean could happily do without. In an ideal world, he'd just be able to go to work, come home, eat dinner, and have sex with Castiel. And someone else would take care of things like getting food in, and buying household necessities.
This wasn't an ideal world.
It wasn't that Dean was completely undomesticated; he'd been doing his own laundry and helping out with household chores since a fairly early age. "No son of mine is going to leave home without knowing how to use a washer-drier," Mary had insisted.
All the same, having to do things like buying bed linen had never occurred to Dean. He looked back wistfully on his days of innocence as he and Castiel trawled the isles of the Bed, Bath and Beyond store in Ithaca.
"I feel as though thread counts are something I should care about," Castiel said, miserably. "But I don't understand why."
Dean sighed. "Oh, let's just get anything. I don't care. We still have to buy towels after this. See, I told you we should've taken some from that last motel we were in."
Castiel sent him a quelling look. They were both tired and prone to be irritable, and Dean had been a little sharp with him because Cas had spent an unreasonable amount of time looking at various overpriced picture frames. Dean had pointed out that they didn't need picture frames, not owning any pictures to put in them, that they were wasting time, and he really couldn't see why they couldn't just buy everything in IKEA. It would be a lot cheaper. Castiel had said that he didn't know where the nearest IKEA was, and that they were paying for quality. And besides, why shouldn't he look at nice things as well as boring essentials? He'd never had the opportunity to buy things for a home before. Dean had pointed out that he'd never shopped for these things before either, and that Castiel always played the 'I'm so sheltered and was never given a chance at a normal life' card to guilt Dean into letting him do what he wanted, and Cas had been in a bad mood with him ever since.
Cas rarely ever got openly angry; he showed his displeasure through being withdrawn and sulky. Dean hated it. He would have preferred Cas to just yell at him. No one else he knew had a problem with yelling at Dean.
He found a selection of nondescript white towels, and put a few in their basket. They were pretty expensive, but seeing as Castiel was paying for all this with the allowance Gabriel was giving him, the price wasn't Dean's problem.
"Which sheets do you prefer?" Castiel asked, his tone deceptively light. "I wouldn't want to pick any that were too extravagant."
"Oh, for... Cas, would you get over it? Look, I'm sorry if I was an ass earlier, okay? I'm just not into this whole..." He gestured around them.
"You think I am? Believe it or not, I would much rather be at home with a good book and a cup of tea. But forgive me for trying to make the best out of a mundane task. You have been nothing but recalcitrant since we came in!"
"I have not been recalcitrant!" Dean didn't know what it meant.
"You have."
Dean thought back to what he would have been doing a year ago. Past!Dean would never for a minute suspected that right now he would be arguing with his boyfriend in Bed, Bath and Beyond, in Ithaca, NY. His life was ridiculous.
"Well, fine. What bed sheets do you like?"
Castiel looked at him mulishly.
"Come on, Cas, I'm trying to be accommodating here. Gimme a break, okay?"
Castiel rolled his eyes. "That's good of you."
"Jesus! Do you have to be so passive-aggressive all the time? Do you have any idea how fucking annoying it is?"
"Do you have any idea how annoying it is when you're sarcastic and mean?" Castiel's voice was low and venomous; he was actually pretty scary when he was angry. Not that Dean was going to admit that.
"Could you just tell me what sheets you like so we can get the hell out of here?"
"I like the green ones!" Castiel snapped.
"Yeah, well, so do I!"
They stared at each other furiously for a few seconds. Then the corner of Dean's mouth twitched. The next moment they were both laughing so hard that they were practically crying, grabbing onto each other for support. A couple of nearby women looked at them as though they'd gone crazy. Bed, Bath and Beyond was not a place that usually inspired hysterics.
It took a minute or two for them to compose themselves.
Dean shook his head. "That has to be the most ridiculous argument we've had to date."
"I believe the one in Boston about pizza toppings may still be sillier."
"Yeah, you're right, that was sillier. Hey, I'm sorry I was a jerk."
Cas nodded. "Me too."
Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's buy this and get out of here. I'll get you a coffee."
They made their way to the counter, giving each other sidelong smiles, both feeling a little embarrassed.
There were some things about growing up that were kind of nice, Dean realized. When he was younger he'd thought that the mark of a happy relationship was never having arguments, but he was learning that this wasn't true. The mark of a happy relationship was being able to laugh about the arguments you do have.
Dean knew, as they lugged their purchases out of the store and shoved them in the back of the impala, that he and Cas were going to make it.
The Little Things
(For Sarah again, who wanted Dean helping Cas out at college orientation)
"I'm lost!"
There was a slight edge of panic to Castiel's voice. Dean checked around him - he wasn't really supposed to take personal calls at work, and this was his first week on the job. Luckily his boss wasn't anywhere in sight.
"What d'you mean, lost?"
"I mean that I have a meeting at Bailey Hall in five minutes, and I lost my map, and I have no idea where it is!"
Dean frowned. "Wait, what about that girl you've been talking to, um... Rachel? Have you tried calling her? You have her number, right?"
"I tried, but she has her phone turned off. She must already be there. I can't believe this. It's my first day of orientation, and I'm already going to miss something. This really isn't the most auspicious start."
Castiel really did like the long words.
"Um... okay. You're not gonna miss it. I think I've still got my campus map in the car. Hold on, Cas."
Dean checked once more for his boss, then ran out to the lot where he'd parked the impala. He rummaged in the glove compartment, certain that he'd stashed a copy of the campus map in there. If not... well, he'd think of something. Castiel really was very new at this whole coping on his own thing. Bingo. He unfolded the map and smoothed it out over his knee, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear.
"Cas? Yeah, I got the map. Uh... Okay, there are a lot of halls. Which one was it you have to go to?"
"Bailey Hall!" There was a bite of impatience now. "I... I'm sorry, Dean, I just... I hate being late."
"I know, it's okay. Right, I found it. Okay, where are you?"
"I... There's a big building on my right. It's... Goldwin Smith Hall."
"Okay, gotcha. You're close. Go straight ahead until you reach the crossroads, take a left, then another left at the next crossroads. Bailey Hall's on the second road along."
"Thank you, Dean. Thank you so much, I... I have to go."
"Me too. See you later, Cas."
Dean got home that night to find that Castiel had ordered Chinese.
"I would have cooked," he said, "but I don't feel that my culinary skills are up to the task."
Dean had to agree, considering Castiel had managed to burn scrambled eggs the other morning. "This is awesome, Cas. What's the occasion?"
"Well, I thought we should celebrate my first day at college. Besides, I owe you for getting me to that lecture on time earlier. I wouldn't have made it without you."
Dean shrugged, picking out a carton of crispy duck. "It was nothing."
"Well, it was something to me. You're the very first person to do 'nothing' things for me in a long while. And it matters. It makes the difference between wandering through life alone, knowing that you only have yourself to rely on, and... and knowing that you're part of someone else's life. That someone else will think of you, and you don't have to solve everything on your own. I'm grateful to not be alone any more."
Dean smiled, reaching out to brush a lock of hair back off Castiel's forehead. "Well, you're welcome in that case. Personally, I think we make a pretty awesome team."
Castiel smiled crookedly. "I quite agree. Now, I recall you promising to teach me how to use chopsticks."
Dean grabbed a couple of plates. "Sure. Though I can't guarantee I'll be much help when it comes to eating rice - still haven't quite mastered that one myself." He looked up, and saw that Castiel was watching him with a little smile on his lips. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm just... I'm happy. I'm happy I'm living this life that I'd never thought I'd have, and, you know, going to college and meeting people, and... I'm glad I'm not doing it alone. I would have done, but... I'm glad I don't have to. I'm glad I have you."
Dean leaned in and kissed him. "Course you do. I've always got your back, Cas."
Jealousy
"We should make a trip to New York together some time," Crowley said. "There's an exhibition on at the Met I want to see. Oh, and there's a great oyster bar at Grand Central Station. You ever had oysters, Castiel?"
Castiel pressed his lips together with a small frown. "No, I... I honestly can't say they've ever appealed to me. I would like to see the art exhibition though."
Crowley chuckled. "You should give oysters a try. Amongst other things, they're a great aphrodisiac. Okay, angel, I'll check my diary and we'll make a date of it."
Dean, sitting next to Castiel at the frankly overpriced restaurant Crowley had picked out, balled his fists to hard that his nails cut into his palms. Maddy, sitting across from him, gave him a warning look. Okay, okay. Dean knew. This was Sparrow's birthday dinner, and he couldn't make a scene.
Dean liked the vast majority of Castiel's college friends. He'd worried at first that they'd look down on him for working at a garage and just taking night school in business, while they all attended a prestigious Ivy League school, but they'd been really nice.
When it came to Crowley, however, Dean had issues. There was just something up with the guy. Okay, so the main issue was that he wouldn't stop flirting with Castiel, and Cas was completely oblivious. He never knew when people were flirting with him, and refused to believe it whenever Dean grumpily pointed out that someone was displaying interest. He and Crowley took History of Art together, and he was still insisting that Crowley had nothing more than friendship in mind. It was driving Dean crazy. He just didn't trust Crowley. It didn't help that he was everything that Dean wasn't. With his expensive clothes and his British accent, and his knowledge of all this... cultural shit. A horrible insecure voice in the back of Dean's head kept telling him that Crowley was the kind of person Castiel should be with. Someone who could match him intellectually.
"Crowley flirts with everyone," Sparrow had said to Dean when he mentioned his discontent. "I mean, I've known the guy for a while now, and that's just what he's like, you know? It doesn't mean anything. He's a flirt. Men, women, gay, straight, young, old... he's equal opportunities! Seriously, I wouldn't let it worry you."
But it did worry Dean.
They were all going to see some play after dinner, but Dean had to go to his business class. He watched them leave together in a taxi, Crowley leaning over to say something to Castiel conspiratorially, and felt jealousy burn in his gut. He had always known that Cas was a league above him, but it hadn't really mattered that much before. There hadn't been any Crowleys at Lawrence High. Cas was part of this world now, a world that Dean was completely cut off from.
Castiel wasn't home when Dean got back from night school. Probably out with his smart friends having fun. Dean cracked open a beer, put Silence of the Lambs (his comfort movie), and fell asleep on the couch.
He was woken up by soft kisses being planted on his face. Dean hummed contentedly, and pulled Castiel down on top of him. "Hey, you," he breathed.
"Hello, you."
"How was the play?"
"Good. But I spent the whole time wishing that I was home with you."
Dean cracked his eyes open. He wondered if that was true, or if Castiel was just saying it to mollify him.
"I mean it," Castiel said, reading his thoughts.
Dean sighed fretfully. "I just wish Crowley would stop acting that way around you. And don't tell me that that's just how he is with everyone. Not everyone is in a relationship." He moved his legs apart so that Castiel could lie more comfortably.
Cas looked down at him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you don't trust him, and that you feel his intentions are dishonorable. He really is a good friend once you get to know him. But even if you don't trust him... you trust me, don't you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, of course."
"Well then you'll know that even if his behavior did become inappropriate, I would put a stop to it."
Dean looked away. "It's not that. I mean, I know. I know you'd never let anything happen. That's not what I'm worried about."
"What then?"
This was embarrassing.
"Dean."
"I'm worried that you might want it to. I'm worried that you'll see that you have an opportunity with him, this guy who's all rich and charming and educated, and then you'll look at me. Dean Winchester the mechanic. And... and you'll be disappointed. I never want you to feel that way."
"Dean, I would never. I meant what I said before - all evening, enjoyable though it was, the only thing I could think about was how much I was looking forward to being alone with you. You are the best person I have ever known, and I'm honored to be with you. I'm honored that you chose me, even though I'm strange and awkward and I have a crazy family. I'm honored that you've moved all the way here to be with me. I don't care that you don't know about European history, or art, or Russian literature. Do you think any of that really matters? You're brave and kind and clever, and I'm in love with you."
Dean pulled him down into a kiss, feeling the tension in his heart lessening. Crowley might have a lot going for him, but Castiel had chosen Dean. Castiel loved Dean, and that was worth all the Armani suits and country club memberships in the world.