FIC: The Sound of Silence, Dean/Castiel, Oneshot
Title: The Sound of Silence
Author: lolletrop
Rating: NC-17
Paring: Dean/Castiel
Word Count: ~2,000
Spoilers: Slight spoilers for season 7 [SPOILER] References to Amnesia!Cas
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.
A/N: This is for you, Hania. I love you.
Also, lots and lots of thanks to lavs684 for being an awesome fudge pop and helping me out on several occasions.
Summary: AU - Castiel remembers.
It was already dark outside, even though it was barely passed 5. The rain was softly hitting against the windows. A constant and calming sound that ticked away like the clock on the wall.
With Sam gone to the library, Dean was alone in the motel room, cleaning his guns when a sudden knock on the door made him pause and raise his head with a frown.
Dean took the gun he was currently working on and walked over to the door. He refrained from calling out to ask who was there or what they wanted and looked through the peephole instead. Whoever it was on the other side, it was obvious Dean didn’t expect them. His eyes went wide and he had to take a couple of breaths before he put his gun away and unlocked the door.
There, in the pouring rain, stood Castiel.
His wet hair stuck to his face and raindrops were dripping from the tip of his nose. ‘He looks tired,’ Dean noted. As if he hadn’t slept in days. And when looked at him, shoulders hunched, a haunted look in his eyes, completely and utterly drenched, Dean realized Castiel had never looked further from the angel he once was than he did now.
They stared at each other like that in silence until Castiel shivered -the poor sucker hadn’t even bothered to put on a coat- and spoke.
“Dean, I-…” he began and he frowned when he found that his lips wouldn’t form the words he desperately wanted to say. Needed to say. He took a shaky breath and carefully reached out towards Dean. Slowly, as if he was afraid Dean would run or kill him if he came too close. But Dean didn’t. He thought about it for a second, when he realized Castiel was going to touch him and an irrational panic filled him. But he didn’t. Castiel’s hand finally reached its destination and carefully curled around Dean’s shoulder. Over the handprint he’d left there all those years ago, in a place far darker and more cruel than he cared to be reminded of.
Castiel’s familiar blue eyes had no problem finding his in the darkness and when they did an unnamable emotion crossed his face and he let out a silent ‘Ah’ before he opened his mouth and whispered in a broken voice: “I remember.”
And he doesn’t have to say what or when or how, he doesn’t have to say another word. Because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter. He remembers.
He remembers.
Castiel remembers.
Castiel.
Cas.
Cas.
Dean doesn’t know who moved first. He doesn’t know who pulled and who followed, but suddenly he had his arms full of Cas.
Hands were pulling closer. Fingers were recalling. The door fell shut behind them.
Dean’s T-shirt quickly got soaked just by holding Castiel. He ran his fingers absentmindedly through Cas’ hair, making it stand up in weird angles while Cas hid his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and only moved closerclosercloser until there was no more distance between their chests.
Dean felt wetness dripping into his shirt but he couldn’t tell if it were raindrops or tears. He tightened his hold on Castiel anyway, dipping his head down to press a kiss against his neck and traced soothing circles on his back.
“It’s okay, Cas,” he whispered in his ear. “It’s okay. I got you.”
He heard his friend trying and failing miserably to repress a choked sob. Dean leaned down again to press another kiss against Castiel’s damp skin, only this time he lingered. For some reason he couldn’t find it in him to pull away.
For some reason he didn’t want to.
Castiel stilled in Dean’s arms when the other man’s lips traveled over the side of his neck and he shivered before he tilted his head and carefully put his own lips against Dean’s skin. An unexpected moan escaped Dean’s mouth at the feeling.
Their hands kept pulling each other closer. Pulling at hair, clothes, skin in a desperate attempt to stop being alone.
Dean’s lips followed the line of Cas’ jaw until he reached his mouth. In the scarce space between their lips their rapid breaths mingled. It reminded Cas of the way he’d once breathed his grace into Dean’s soul. How their essences had mingled. It had been erotically divine and Castiel had wanted Dean, loved Dean, needed Dean since that moment. He rested their foreheads together and brought up one hand to caress his beloved’s face while he kept the other tightly around Dean’s shoulder. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel It. The empty echo that It projected. A sound he recognized but could no longer utter himself. And it hurt. It hurt so goddamn bad he could hardly move. But-
“Dean,” he whispered as if he was afraid to hurt the silence, his shaking fingers skimming across Dean’s features. “Dean.”
Dean.
Dean was his Heaven now. Dean was his Hell. His Earth. He was the sun and the moon and the stars. The end of the world and the beginning. Just like he’d always been.
“Dean,” he murmured. “Dean.”
He whispered it again and again and again as if it was the only word he knew. As if he was a man in a desert and ‘Dean’ was the thirst-quenching water. He said it again and again and again. Like a madman. Until it became a mantra. The only prayer he had left. The only apology he could give.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so-“
“Shh…” Dean whispered and he silenced him with his lips. “We’ll figure it out.”
Cas didn’t reply nor did he wait for Dean to say anything else. It was all he needed to hear in that moment. It was enough. It was everything. It was hope.
He leaned in and kissed him. Kissed him until they were both reduced to just their lips, just their tongues. Until hands had found their way under clothes. Until fingers had unfastened pants and skin touched skin.
They fell on the bed in a mess of limbs, their clothing shed somewhere along the way.
In the darkness of the room their bodies moved together. Glided against each other, no barriers left between them. Until it was impossible to say where Dean ended and Cas began. And Castiel wished he could still touch Dean’s soul, wished he could trace the tip of his wing across Dean’s back as the man moved above him. But he couldn’t. He was only a man. Bound to the ground and trapped in a cage of flesh and bones. But Dean was quick to show him that flesh and bones and warmth had their benefits.
His tongue and hands pulled soft cries and pleas from Castiel’s lips until Dean surrendered and claimed them in another kiss. He wrapped his hand around their erections and set a maddening slow pace of pulling and thrusting, nearly driving the other man insane.
Castiel tried to lift his hips, tried to increase the friction. Anything. His inexperienced body automatically knowing what it wanted. But Dean used his other hand to pin Cas’ hips down to the mattress, disabling him to move.
If his mouth hadn’t been occupied at that very moment, Castiel would have screamed in frustration. Instead he pulled Dean closer, deepening their kiss.
Their tongues twirled around each other in a useless battle for dominance. Castiel gave Dean everything he had left. Laid it out for him to see. Wrote it on his skin and breathed it into his mouth. He kissed him with a desperate hope. Wanting this to be the beginning and not the end.
Dean wanted to take his time. Wanted to savor every taste, every sound now he was able to touch Castiel again. But he was already too close and judging from Cas’ frantic panting, the former angel was as well.
Dean’s movements began to falter and he knew he wouldn’t be able to put off their climaxes as long as he’d like.
He wiped his hand over Cas’ sweaty forehead and fisted it in his dark hair while he pushed and stroked and drove them both to oblivion.
Castiel twisted and turned his head as he got lost in the sensations Dean’s talented hand evoked. He scratched his nails over the other man’s chest, digging them into tanned skin, as his hips started moving on their own accord, desperate to catch something that was just out of his reach.
Dean let his head fall against Cas’ shoulder and bit the warm skin there to keep himself from crying out.
Castiel moaned, deep and loud, as he grasped Dean’s butt, his fingers curling around the curve of soft flesh like claws, urging him closer. Dean shuddered and bent down to lick the whispered apologies off Cas’ lips. They were pointless. Dean had already forgiven him.
Castiel didn’t even realize he was speaking. Words and truths tumbled from his mouth as Dean claimed them as his own, filling the emptied space with his own admission of guilt.
It only took two more strokes to send Cas over the edge. He arched his back off the mattress and moaned the hunter’s name into his mouth, his smaller body trembling in the safety of Dean’s arms. Dean gently let go off Cas after he’d stroked him through the aftershocks, knowing the friction would soon become uncomfortable. He pumped his fist roughly over his own erection while his friend lay sleepy and panting and utterly spent underneath him. He rested his forehead against Cas’ cheek as he pressed his eyes closed and let out a low groan as he could feel something very familiar building in his stomach. A strong and warm hand encircled his own and when two long fingers brushed over the head of his dick Dean lost it and finally let go, spilling over Cas’ stomach and collapsing on top of him.
They lay like that for languid minutes. Too tired and too satisfied to move. Dean noted with only a little bit of surprise he liked the hard chest beneath him and the coarse stubble that rubbed against his cheek with each breath Castiel took, as much as he’d always enjoyed softness and boobs.
After a while, though, the dried cum on their skins began to itch and Dean pushed himself off Castiel, his lips softly grazing along his jaw, and scooped up his discarded shirt from the floor. He wiped off their stomachs and hands and bent down to kiss the cleaned skin of Cas’ abdomen while he dropped the messy piece of fabric back on the ground.
Dean kissed his way up Castiel’s chest, softly sucking on sweaty skin while a quiet humming sound found its way over Cas’ lips, until they lay eye to eye. Until gentle blue touched muted green and neither could look away.
Castiel raised a careful hand and brushed his fingers almost reverently over Dean’s cheek and the hunter bent down and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss, a careful softness tugging at his mouth.
The silence around them twisted and screamed and was almost too loud to bear. The night heavy with light constricted in darkness, and almost within their reach. It begged to be touched and Castiel thought that if he stretched out his hand he would be able to caress it. That maybe he could hear its whispered secrets and muttered apologies. Nothing was right. The world was filled with a sin that wore down on both of them and Castiel didn’t know if they’d ever be okay again. But a muted green stared down at him and promised soundlessly they’d work things out and despite everything Castiel smiled. Dean brushed his nose along Cas’ and the darkness shone with hope.
Author: lolletrop
Rating: NC-17
Paring: Dean/Castiel
Word Count: ~2,000
Spoilers: Slight spoilers for season 7 [SPOILER] References to Amnesia!Cas
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.
A/N: This is for you, Hania. I love you.
Also, lots and lots of thanks to lavs684 for being an awesome fudge pop and helping me out on several occasions.
Summary: AU - Castiel remembers.
It was already dark outside, even though it was barely passed 5. The rain was softly hitting against the windows. A constant and calming sound that ticked away like the clock on the wall.
With Sam gone to the library, Dean was alone in the motel room, cleaning his guns when a sudden knock on the door made him pause and raise his head with a frown.
Dean took the gun he was currently working on and walked over to the door. He refrained from calling out to ask who was there or what they wanted and looked through the peephole instead. Whoever it was on the other side, it was obvious Dean didn’t expect them. His eyes went wide and he had to take a couple of breaths before he put his gun away and unlocked the door.
There, in the pouring rain, stood Castiel.
His wet hair stuck to his face and raindrops were dripping from the tip of his nose. ‘He looks tired,’ Dean noted. As if he hadn’t slept in days. And when looked at him, shoulders hunched, a haunted look in his eyes, completely and utterly drenched, Dean realized Castiel had never looked further from the angel he once was than he did now.
They stared at each other like that in silence until Castiel shivered -the poor sucker hadn’t even bothered to put on a coat- and spoke.
“Dean, I-…” he began and he frowned when he found that his lips wouldn’t form the words he desperately wanted to say. Needed to say. He took a shaky breath and carefully reached out towards Dean. Slowly, as if he was afraid Dean would run or kill him if he came too close. But Dean didn’t. He thought about it for a second, when he realized Castiel was going to touch him and an irrational panic filled him. But he didn’t. Castiel’s hand finally reached its destination and carefully curled around Dean’s shoulder. Over the handprint he’d left there all those years ago, in a place far darker and more cruel than he cared to be reminded of.
Castiel’s familiar blue eyes had no problem finding his in the darkness and when they did an unnamable emotion crossed his face and he let out a silent ‘Ah’ before he opened his mouth and whispered in a broken voice: “I remember.”
And he doesn’t have to say what or when or how, he doesn’t have to say another word. Because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter. He remembers.
He remembers.
Castiel remembers.
Castiel.
Cas.
Cas.
Dean doesn’t know who moved first. He doesn’t know who pulled and who followed, but suddenly he had his arms full of Cas.
Hands were pulling closer. Fingers were recalling. The door fell shut behind them.
Dean’s T-shirt quickly got soaked just by holding Castiel. He ran his fingers absentmindedly through Cas’ hair, making it stand up in weird angles while Cas hid his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and only moved closerclosercloser until there was no more distance between their chests.
Dean felt wetness dripping into his shirt but he couldn’t tell if it were raindrops or tears. He tightened his hold on Castiel anyway, dipping his head down to press a kiss against his neck and traced soothing circles on his back.
“It’s okay, Cas,” he whispered in his ear. “It’s okay. I got you.”
He heard his friend trying and failing miserably to repress a choked sob. Dean leaned down again to press another kiss against Castiel’s damp skin, only this time he lingered. For some reason he couldn’t find it in him to pull away.
For some reason he didn’t want to.
Castiel stilled in Dean’s arms when the other man’s lips traveled over the side of his neck and he shivered before he tilted his head and carefully put his own lips against Dean’s skin. An unexpected moan escaped Dean’s mouth at the feeling.
Their hands kept pulling each other closer. Pulling at hair, clothes, skin in a desperate attempt to stop being alone.
Dean’s lips followed the line of Cas’ jaw until he reached his mouth. In the scarce space between their lips their rapid breaths mingled. It reminded Cas of the way he’d once breathed his grace into Dean’s soul. How their essences had mingled. It had been erotically divine and Castiel had wanted Dean, loved Dean, needed Dean since that moment. He rested their foreheads together and brought up one hand to caress his beloved’s face while he kept the other tightly around Dean’s shoulder. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel It. The empty echo that It projected. A sound he recognized but could no longer utter himself. And it hurt. It hurt so goddamn bad he could hardly move. But-
“Dean,” he whispered as if he was afraid to hurt the silence, his shaking fingers skimming across Dean’s features. “Dean.”
Dean.
Dean was his Heaven now. Dean was his Hell. His Earth. He was the sun and the moon and the stars. The end of the world and the beginning. Just like he’d always been.
“Dean,” he murmured. “Dean.”
He whispered it again and again and again as if it was the only word he knew. As if he was a man in a desert and ‘Dean’ was the thirst-quenching water. He said it again and again and again. Like a madman. Until it became a mantra. The only prayer he had left. The only apology he could give.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so-“
“Shh…” Dean whispered and he silenced him with his lips. “We’ll figure it out.”
Cas didn’t reply nor did he wait for Dean to say anything else. It was all he needed to hear in that moment. It was enough. It was everything. It was hope.
He leaned in and kissed him. Kissed him until they were both reduced to just their lips, just their tongues. Until hands had found their way under clothes. Until fingers had unfastened pants and skin touched skin.
They fell on the bed in a mess of limbs, their clothing shed somewhere along the way.
In the darkness of the room their bodies moved together. Glided against each other, no barriers left between them. Until it was impossible to say where Dean ended and Cas began. And Castiel wished he could still touch Dean’s soul, wished he could trace the tip of his wing across Dean’s back as the man moved above him. But he couldn’t. He was only a man. Bound to the ground and trapped in a cage of flesh and bones. But Dean was quick to show him that flesh and bones and warmth had their benefits.
His tongue and hands pulled soft cries and pleas from Castiel’s lips until Dean surrendered and claimed them in another kiss. He wrapped his hand around their erections and set a maddening slow pace of pulling and thrusting, nearly driving the other man insane.
Castiel tried to lift his hips, tried to increase the friction. Anything. His inexperienced body automatically knowing what it wanted. But Dean used his other hand to pin Cas’ hips down to the mattress, disabling him to move.
If his mouth hadn’t been occupied at that very moment, Castiel would have screamed in frustration. Instead he pulled Dean closer, deepening their kiss.
Their tongues twirled around each other in a useless battle for dominance. Castiel gave Dean everything he had left. Laid it out for him to see. Wrote it on his skin and breathed it into his mouth. He kissed him with a desperate hope. Wanting this to be the beginning and not the end.
Dean wanted to take his time. Wanted to savor every taste, every sound now he was able to touch Castiel again. But he was already too close and judging from Cas’ frantic panting, the former angel was as well.
Dean’s movements began to falter and he knew he wouldn’t be able to put off their climaxes as long as he’d like.
He wiped his hand over Cas’ sweaty forehead and fisted it in his dark hair while he pushed and stroked and drove them both to oblivion.
Castiel twisted and turned his head as he got lost in the sensations Dean’s talented hand evoked. He scratched his nails over the other man’s chest, digging them into tanned skin, as his hips started moving on their own accord, desperate to catch something that was just out of his reach.
Dean let his head fall against Cas’ shoulder and bit the warm skin there to keep himself from crying out.
Castiel moaned, deep and loud, as he grasped Dean’s butt, his fingers curling around the curve of soft flesh like claws, urging him closer. Dean shuddered and bent down to lick the whispered apologies off Cas’ lips. They were pointless. Dean had already forgiven him.
Castiel didn’t even realize he was speaking. Words and truths tumbled from his mouth as Dean claimed them as his own, filling the emptied space with his own admission of guilt.
It only took two more strokes to send Cas over the edge. He arched his back off the mattress and moaned the hunter’s name into his mouth, his smaller body trembling in the safety of Dean’s arms. Dean gently let go off Cas after he’d stroked him through the aftershocks, knowing the friction would soon become uncomfortable. He pumped his fist roughly over his own erection while his friend lay sleepy and panting and utterly spent underneath him. He rested his forehead against Cas’ cheek as he pressed his eyes closed and let out a low groan as he could feel something very familiar building in his stomach. A strong and warm hand encircled his own and when two long fingers brushed over the head of his dick Dean lost it and finally let go, spilling over Cas’ stomach and collapsing on top of him.
They lay like that for languid minutes. Too tired and too satisfied to move. Dean noted with only a little bit of surprise he liked the hard chest beneath him and the coarse stubble that rubbed against his cheek with each breath Castiel took, as much as he’d always enjoyed softness and boobs.
After a while, though, the dried cum on their skins began to itch and Dean pushed himself off Castiel, his lips softly grazing along his jaw, and scooped up his discarded shirt from the floor. He wiped off their stomachs and hands and bent down to kiss the cleaned skin of Cas’ abdomen while he dropped the messy piece of fabric back on the ground.
Dean kissed his way up Castiel’s chest, softly sucking on sweaty skin while a quiet humming sound found its way over Cas’ lips, until they lay eye to eye. Until gentle blue touched muted green and neither could look away.
Castiel raised a careful hand and brushed his fingers almost reverently over Dean’s cheek and the hunter bent down and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss, a careful softness tugging at his mouth.
The silence around them twisted and screamed and was almost too loud to bear. The night heavy with light constricted in darkness, and almost within their reach. It begged to be touched and Castiel thought that if he stretched out his hand he would be able to caress it. That maybe he could hear its whispered secrets and muttered apologies. Nothing was right. The world was filled with a sin that wore down on both of them and Castiel didn’t know if they’d ever be okay again. But a muted green stared down at him and promised soundlessly they’d work things out and despite everything Castiel smiled. Dean brushed his nose along Cas’ and the darkness shone with hope.