Fic: Loving the Fall (5/?)
See the masterpost for disclaimer, summary, and previous parts.
After he and his brother put the sheets and covers on the bed where Bobby would be sleeping, Dean went to the master bedroom he shared with Cas and got ready for bed. Castiel was still downstairs watching City of Angels with Zoë. He wondered how they were getting along, how Zoë was handling the fact that she was watching television with a former angel. But he didn’t wonder enough to go down there and see for himself. He wasn’t really up for it.
He hoped he would be asleep by the time Castiel came to bed, but Cas came up about an hour later and Dean was still lying wide awake. He didn’t turn to acknowledge Cas, hoping Castiel would take the hint and slip quietly into bed and go to sleep.
Instead, Castiel went right to the bed, drew back the covers, and crowded in against Dean on his side.
“Whoa, Cas, what…?”
Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and clung tightly to him. When Dean looked over at him, Castiel’s eyes were scary-intent. “Do not ever ride a bicycle in the road. Or if you do, don’t you dare close your eyes.”
Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. “Dude… after all the shit I’ve lived through, you think it’s going to be a bike-versus-car accident that gets me?” Dean turned to lie facing Castiel. Castiel readjusted his arms around Dean, but he did not loosen his grip. In fact, Castiel held him tighter… Dean was too man to admit it was actually starting to hurt.
“This human life is so fragile, Dean… and I couldn’t bear losing you.”
It was the first time Cas had ever said anything like that. He’d told Dean he loved him, sure, so it might be understood, but Castiel never said that before. Dean was surprised at how hard it hit him in the gut, how tight it closed up in his throat. “You won’t,” Dean whispered.
Castiel slid a leg between Dean’s. His hands let go their death-grip on him to slip inside his shirt, running his palms over the bare skin of Dean’s back.
Dean caught his arm to stop him. “Hey, Cas… just… let’s just go to sleep, okay?”
Castiel paused, and Dean knew it was suspicious as hell. When didn’t he want sex? Castiel’s hand slid out of Dean’s shirt only to lay across his forehead the next.
Dean swatted it away with a tense chuckle. “I’m not sick… I just don’t feel like it, okay?”
“Okay, Dean,” Castiel replied, but he sounded distant. Rebuffed. Dean scowled, hating himself just a little. “Hey,” he whispered, catching Castiel’s cheek in one hand. Then he just locked up. Like he always fucking did. He stared deep into Castiel’s eyes, willing him to get what Dean couldn’t manage to say.
Castiel always did. His expression softened a little, and he said gently, “I love you, too.”
Dean let him go then, and Castiel went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He came back and wordlessly got into bed on his side. He turned to face the window with its open curtains, forever seeking sky. It wasn’t long before Dean could tell from the sound of his breathing that he was asleep.
Usually, even when Dean was having trouble nodding off, the rhythm of Castiel’s breathing could lull him to sleep. Not this time. Dean lay awake at least another hour before he gave up. Slipping carefully out of bed, so as not to wake Cas, he padded out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
The living room was glowing with the lights of the tree as Dean crossed to the kitchen. He poured himself a shot of bourbon and downed it like he used to back in the old days, when he was drinking to dull the pain. He set the glass down and braced his arms on the counter, letting it take some of his weight. The house was quiet. Dean could smell the pine from the living room. It was so damn peaceful, and yet tonight Dean felt trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Dean threw back another shot before he put the glass in the sink and stared into nothing, his mind racing. He’d been looking forward to Bobby’s visit for months, and now that it was staring him down he was fucking petrified.
There wasn’t a hell of a lot that could scare Dean.
“Dean?”
Dean startled and turned to find Castiel standing in the kitchen entrance, bare feet sticking out the bottom of his pajama pants, at odds with the worn Metallica t-shirt he’d stolen from Dean for a sleep shirt. His dark hair was mussed… no one did bed-head like Cas. Normally, it made Dean yearn to run his fingers through it… now it just made his stomach clench.
“Hey, Cas…” he cleared his throat, still burning from bourbon, “what are you doing up?”
Castiel shuffled closer. “I had a nightmare.”
Because Dean wasn’t there. It lingered in the air between them, unspoken. It was never meant as an accusation, but Dean always felt it like one. “Sorry.”
Castiel stopped in front of him, a little shy of invading Dean’s personal space, which Dean noticed immediately. The shit Cas said without saying a word, the cues from his body, were easier for Dean to read with every passing day. Dean thought that one day, maybe not too far from now, he’d get a novel in a glance just from reading Castiel’s body language… the way he could with Sam.
“What are you doing?” Castiel asked softly.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Dean answered edgily.
Castiel stared long and hard at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
A beat. “Then why are you behaving strangely every time someone mentions Bobby?”
Dean’s heart hammered. His eyes flew to Castiel’s. There was quiet concern in those familiar blue eyes. And really, he should have known that he couldn’t get that past Cas.
Didn’t mean he wanted to fess up to it, though. Dean groaned and raked a hand through his hair. “Fuck… okay, the thing is…” Dean looked carefully at Cas. “Bobby doesn’t know about… us.”
Castiel began to frown.
“I didn’t mean to keep it a secret or anything, it just never came up, and now he’s going to be here, and I’m just… I guess I’m kind of freaking out.”
Castiel cocked his head. “You think Bobby will disapprove.”
Dean reached out and snagged Castiel by the hips, pulling him closer, into that territory that was all Castiel’s (where he should have been anyway). “Hey, look at me.” Castiel did. “I’m not ashamed of you. You know that. I never tried to hide us from the guys at the garage.”
Castiel nodded slowly. “But Bobby’s opinion matters to you.”
Dean sighed. “Yeah… I know, I shouldn’t be freaking out, but… Bobby’s just…” Dean drew Castiel closer. “I’m going to tell him, I will… I just… I have to figure out how. So, uh… until I do… you think we could just… be a little less obvious?” Because Sam was right about one thing, Dean and Cas were pretty touchy on a daily basis. Cas kept pushing his luck, seeing where Dean would draw the line, and Dean had yet to.
“If that’s what you want,” Castiel answered.
“And I was thinking… just until I tell him… I could sleep on the couch.”
Castiel did not meet his eyes. “Whatever you think best.”
Dean dipped his head to catch Castiel’s eyes. Castiel looked up and slowly lifted his face to his. “I mean it… I’m going to tell him. I just… it’s stupid, but I just never planned how this was going to play out. And I don’t really know what Bobby will think. But I want to ease him into it, just in case… he doesn’t need to catch us in a compromising position and for that to be how he finds out. I owe it to him to break the news to him a little gentler than that.”
Castiel barely smirked. “I understand. I never really considered how difficult this would be for you. I have no family to fear rejection from for loving you.” No family that he would ever see again for the rest of his life. “Bobby has been an important figure in your life for a very long time… you should tell him the way you want to.”
Dean smiled softly, feeling a wash of relief. “Thanks, Cas. You’re awesome.”
Castiel leaned closer. “So, while Bobby’s here, I shouldn’t do this…” Castiel closed his lips, wet and feather-soft, against Dean’s throat. “Or this…” He pressed closer to scrape his teeth across Dean’s skin in a gentle bite. Dean groaned, gripping Castiel’s hips tighter.
“And I should most certainly not do this,” Castiel growled as he pressed their pelvises together, pinning Dean against the counter with his body.
“Fuck…” Dean hissed.
“We should most definitely not do that while Bobby’s here,” Cas countered coyly.
Dean yanked Castiel tight against him and closed his teeth on the skin of his shoulder. He bit down just enough to make Castiel gasp, arching into Dean involuntarily, all firmness and warmth. Dean shifted to a new patch of skin and bit again.
“Don’t leave any marks,” Castiel warned breathlessly, and naturally that meant it was the one thing Dean wanted to do more than anything.
He may have anyway (Cas had some turtlenecks, it was doable) if a third voice hadn’t interrupted them. “Whoa!”
Dean and Cas broke apart and looked to see Zoë frozen on her way to the kitchen.
“What, is everybody up in the middle of the night in this house?” Dean asked gruffly. He pointedly kept Castiel in front of him to save the situation being even more embarrassing.
“Sam’s dead to the world, trust me,” Zoë replied, and a little twinkle in her eye left no doubt in Dean’s mind as to why. Dean almost cracked a joke about that, but figured he wouldn’t have a lot of room to taunt when he’d just been caught making out with Cas (and was still sporting a boner from it).
“Sorry to interrupt,” Zoë said as she went to the refrigerator, “but you two do have a bedroom for that.”
“We apologize for our indiscretion,” Castiel said lowly, and Dean really hoped he was the only one who could detect the gravelly roughness to his voice.
“At least I walked in before it got too racy,” Zoë countered, “From the things I’ve heard, Sam hasn’t always been so lucky.”
“Hey,” Dean said indignantly. A poke in the ribs from Cas let Dean know that, yeah, he really didn’t have a leg to stand on with that one.
Zoë shut the fridge door, bottle of water in hand, and smiled at them. “Goodnight, guys.”
When Zoë was gone, Castiel looked back at Dean and shuffled closer to him. “She’s right… we do have a bedroom, and Bobby’s not here yet.”
Dean liked where Castiel’s mind was. “When you have a point, you have a…” Dean frowned and glanced down, “are you standing on my feet?”
“The floor is cold.”
Dean chuckled. “Won’t be cold between the sheets… you coming?”
“I will be,” Castiel answered, and it could be taken so innocuously, but there was a hint of intent beneath the words that Dean picked up on right away. Dean shot a look at him, wondering if he had imagined it, because it was almost dirty talk and so not Castiel’s style…
Castiel smirked.
Dean bit back a laugh, couldn’t help himself, and started to laugh anyway. He pulled Cas close and muffled his laugh against Castiel’s neck. “How the hell do you manage awkward and hot at the same time?”
“You might call it a God-given talent.”
“I’ve got a God-given talent for you,” Dean promised, pushing Castiel off his feet so he could lead him to the bedroom. They had a weekend-worth of sex to stockpile before Bobby’s arrival.
Next
After he and his brother put the sheets and covers on the bed where Bobby would be sleeping, Dean went to the master bedroom he shared with Cas and got ready for bed. Castiel was still downstairs watching City of Angels with Zoë. He wondered how they were getting along, how Zoë was handling the fact that she was watching television with a former angel. But he didn’t wonder enough to go down there and see for himself. He wasn’t really up for it.
He hoped he would be asleep by the time Castiel came to bed, but Cas came up about an hour later and Dean was still lying wide awake. He didn’t turn to acknowledge Cas, hoping Castiel would take the hint and slip quietly into bed and go to sleep.
Instead, Castiel went right to the bed, drew back the covers, and crowded in against Dean on his side.
“Whoa, Cas, what…?”
Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and clung tightly to him. When Dean looked over at him, Castiel’s eyes were scary-intent. “Do not ever ride a bicycle in the road. Or if you do, don’t you dare close your eyes.”
Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. “Dude… after all the shit I’ve lived through, you think it’s going to be a bike-versus-car accident that gets me?” Dean turned to lie facing Castiel. Castiel readjusted his arms around Dean, but he did not loosen his grip. In fact, Castiel held him tighter… Dean was too man to admit it was actually starting to hurt.
“This human life is so fragile, Dean… and I couldn’t bear losing you.”
It was the first time Cas had ever said anything like that. He’d told Dean he loved him, sure, so it might be understood, but Castiel never said that before. Dean was surprised at how hard it hit him in the gut, how tight it closed up in his throat. “You won’t,” Dean whispered.
Castiel slid a leg between Dean’s. His hands let go their death-grip on him to slip inside his shirt, running his palms over the bare skin of Dean’s back.
Dean caught his arm to stop him. “Hey, Cas… just… let’s just go to sleep, okay?”
Castiel paused, and Dean knew it was suspicious as hell. When didn’t he want sex? Castiel’s hand slid out of Dean’s shirt only to lay across his forehead the next.
Dean swatted it away with a tense chuckle. “I’m not sick… I just don’t feel like it, okay?”
“Okay, Dean,” Castiel replied, but he sounded distant. Rebuffed. Dean scowled, hating himself just a little. “Hey,” he whispered, catching Castiel’s cheek in one hand. Then he just locked up. Like he always fucking did. He stared deep into Castiel’s eyes, willing him to get what Dean couldn’t manage to say.
Castiel always did. His expression softened a little, and he said gently, “I love you, too.”
Dean let him go then, and Castiel went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He came back and wordlessly got into bed on his side. He turned to face the window with its open curtains, forever seeking sky. It wasn’t long before Dean could tell from the sound of his breathing that he was asleep.
Usually, even when Dean was having trouble nodding off, the rhythm of Castiel’s breathing could lull him to sleep. Not this time. Dean lay awake at least another hour before he gave up. Slipping carefully out of bed, so as not to wake Cas, he padded out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
The living room was glowing with the lights of the tree as Dean crossed to the kitchen. He poured himself a shot of bourbon and downed it like he used to back in the old days, when he was drinking to dull the pain. He set the glass down and braced his arms on the counter, letting it take some of his weight. The house was quiet. Dean could smell the pine from the living room. It was so damn peaceful, and yet tonight Dean felt trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Dean threw back another shot before he put the glass in the sink and stared into nothing, his mind racing. He’d been looking forward to Bobby’s visit for months, and now that it was staring him down he was fucking petrified.
There wasn’t a hell of a lot that could scare Dean.
“Dean?”
Dean startled and turned to find Castiel standing in the kitchen entrance, bare feet sticking out the bottom of his pajama pants, at odds with the worn Metallica t-shirt he’d stolen from Dean for a sleep shirt. His dark hair was mussed… no one did bed-head like Cas. Normally, it made Dean yearn to run his fingers through it… now it just made his stomach clench.
“Hey, Cas…” he cleared his throat, still burning from bourbon, “what are you doing up?”
Castiel shuffled closer. “I had a nightmare.”
Because Dean wasn’t there. It lingered in the air between them, unspoken. It was never meant as an accusation, but Dean always felt it like one. “Sorry.”
Castiel stopped in front of him, a little shy of invading Dean’s personal space, which Dean noticed immediately. The shit Cas said without saying a word, the cues from his body, were easier for Dean to read with every passing day. Dean thought that one day, maybe not too far from now, he’d get a novel in a glance just from reading Castiel’s body language… the way he could with Sam.
“What are you doing?” Castiel asked softly.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Dean answered edgily.
Castiel stared long and hard at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
A beat. “Then why are you behaving strangely every time someone mentions Bobby?”
Dean’s heart hammered. His eyes flew to Castiel’s. There was quiet concern in those familiar blue eyes. And really, he should have known that he couldn’t get that past Cas.
Didn’t mean he wanted to fess up to it, though. Dean groaned and raked a hand through his hair. “Fuck… okay, the thing is…” Dean looked carefully at Cas. “Bobby doesn’t know about… us.”
Castiel began to frown.
“I didn’t mean to keep it a secret or anything, it just never came up, and now he’s going to be here, and I’m just… I guess I’m kind of freaking out.”
Castiel cocked his head. “You think Bobby will disapprove.”
Dean reached out and snagged Castiel by the hips, pulling him closer, into that territory that was all Castiel’s (where he should have been anyway). “Hey, look at me.” Castiel did. “I’m not ashamed of you. You know that. I never tried to hide us from the guys at the garage.”
Castiel nodded slowly. “But Bobby’s opinion matters to you.”
Dean sighed. “Yeah… I know, I shouldn’t be freaking out, but… Bobby’s just…” Dean drew Castiel closer. “I’m going to tell him, I will… I just… I have to figure out how. So, uh… until I do… you think we could just… be a little less obvious?” Because Sam was right about one thing, Dean and Cas were pretty touchy on a daily basis. Cas kept pushing his luck, seeing where Dean would draw the line, and Dean had yet to.
“If that’s what you want,” Castiel answered.
“And I was thinking… just until I tell him… I could sleep on the couch.”
Castiel did not meet his eyes. “Whatever you think best.”
Dean dipped his head to catch Castiel’s eyes. Castiel looked up and slowly lifted his face to his. “I mean it… I’m going to tell him. I just… it’s stupid, but I just never planned how this was going to play out. And I don’t really know what Bobby will think. But I want to ease him into it, just in case… he doesn’t need to catch us in a compromising position and for that to be how he finds out. I owe it to him to break the news to him a little gentler than that.”
Castiel barely smirked. “I understand. I never really considered how difficult this would be for you. I have no family to fear rejection from for loving you.” No family that he would ever see again for the rest of his life. “Bobby has been an important figure in your life for a very long time… you should tell him the way you want to.”
Dean smiled softly, feeling a wash of relief. “Thanks, Cas. You’re awesome.”
Castiel leaned closer. “So, while Bobby’s here, I shouldn’t do this…” Castiel closed his lips, wet and feather-soft, against Dean’s throat. “Or this…” He pressed closer to scrape his teeth across Dean’s skin in a gentle bite. Dean groaned, gripping Castiel’s hips tighter.
“And I should most certainly not do this,” Castiel growled as he pressed their pelvises together, pinning Dean against the counter with his body.
“Fuck…” Dean hissed.
“We should most definitely not do that while Bobby’s here,” Cas countered coyly.
Dean yanked Castiel tight against him and closed his teeth on the skin of his shoulder. He bit down just enough to make Castiel gasp, arching into Dean involuntarily, all firmness and warmth. Dean shifted to a new patch of skin and bit again.
“Don’t leave any marks,” Castiel warned breathlessly, and naturally that meant it was the one thing Dean wanted to do more than anything.
He may have anyway (Cas had some turtlenecks, it was doable) if a third voice hadn’t interrupted them. “Whoa!”
Dean and Cas broke apart and looked to see Zoë frozen on her way to the kitchen.
“What, is everybody up in the middle of the night in this house?” Dean asked gruffly. He pointedly kept Castiel in front of him to save the situation being even more embarrassing.
“Sam’s dead to the world, trust me,” Zoë replied, and a little twinkle in her eye left no doubt in Dean’s mind as to why. Dean almost cracked a joke about that, but figured he wouldn’t have a lot of room to taunt when he’d just been caught making out with Cas (and was still sporting a boner from it).
“Sorry to interrupt,” Zoë said as she went to the refrigerator, “but you two do have a bedroom for that.”
“We apologize for our indiscretion,” Castiel said lowly, and Dean really hoped he was the only one who could detect the gravelly roughness to his voice.
“At least I walked in before it got too racy,” Zoë countered, “From the things I’ve heard, Sam hasn’t always been so lucky.”
“Hey,” Dean said indignantly. A poke in the ribs from Cas let Dean know that, yeah, he really didn’t have a leg to stand on with that one.
Zoë shut the fridge door, bottle of water in hand, and smiled at them. “Goodnight, guys.”
When Zoë was gone, Castiel looked back at Dean and shuffled closer to him. “She’s right… we do have a bedroom, and Bobby’s not here yet.”
Dean liked where Castiel’s mind was. “When you have a point, you have a…” Dean frowned and glanced down, “are you standing on my feet?”
“The floor is cold.”
Dean chuckled. “Won’t be cold between the sheets… you coming?”
“I will be,” Castiel answered, and it could be taken so innocuously, but there was a hint of intent beneath the words that Dean picked up on right away. Dean shot a look at him, wondering if he had imagined it, because it was almost dirty talk and so not Castiel’s style…
Castiel smirked.
Dean bit back a laugh, couldn’t help himself, and started to laugh anyway. He pulled Cas close and muffled his laugh against Castiel’s neck. “How the hell do you manage awkward and hot at the same time?”
“You might call it a God-given talent.”
“I’ve got a God-given talent for you,” Dean promised, pushing Castiel off his feet so he could lead him to the bedroom. They had a weekend-worth of sex to stockpile before Bobby’s arrival.
Next