Supernatural. Strange and Beautiful, Part 2 (Dean/Castiel)
Strange and Beautiful
Chapter Two
Rating: R
Pairing[s]: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Jess
Information/Background:The title comes from the song "Strange and Beautiful" by Aqualung.
Summary: Castiel falls. Not from his Heavenly rank, but from an injury that he is pertinently unable to heal. He ends up landing smack-dab in a dank little alley way on his Father's creation - Earth. Who so happens to be there to save the day? A man named Dean Winchester, who is about to get more than he can handle on his plate.
Author's Note: Enjoy~ And comment your opinions. It makes me happy! Even if it's constructive criticism. Just... don't full-out flame me to death. That would hurt. Sorry it's been a while. I've never written something so long... Which is sad! Because this is only like 6,500 words. Hahahaha.
octobersghosts.livejournal.com/4663.html#cutid1 - Part One
He heard the dull, gentle thrum of a heart pounding inside a mortal chest next to his head, and rugged breaths of air tickling the skin on his forehead. It is what lulled him out of his sleep and encouraged him to flutter open his eyes. Experiencing such feelings was foreign to his being, therefore waking up with streams of sunlight prickling at his eyelashes was unusual as well, and his initial response to humanly instincts was to begin the daily process of breathing and living. Breathe because it was all he had left now, after falling so hard.
A little noise escaped his lips, a noise he did not know he could make. His now human body ached with the weight of God's fist smashing into his human bones, breaking them and turning them to dust beneath his flesh. The world was his anchor now, and gravity did bind him. He found that there was a small vibrating hum of his grace still tracing through blood filled veins, but the rest... The rest was gone. An immortal trapped in the inevitability of decay. He prayed that his Father could hear his pleading cries for help. Without the power to heal his wounded wings, no longer could he take flight to find the Gates of his Home. He was bound to the soil beneath his feet and the beating heart inside his human chest, ticking away. Time was of the essence. And with each second passing by he could feel the hands of death choking him tighter.
Castiel could feel the warmth of another body wrapped around him before he could even fully gain sight in both of his eyes, for they were sensitive and blurry with a newborn's insight. A shudder of thrill ran down his spine and he cuddled further into the other body that was thriving with life. It made him feel safe as strong arms tightened protectively around him, and a fist squeezed reassuringly on his hip. As the world began to grow less dizzying he could focus on the patch of peachy cream skin pressed against his face. Every little ounce of warmth that he soaked up through his pores made his body shiver with content and satisfaction. He wanted to unfold his wings and flex them out, as they were sore and tired tucked against his back, and he feared an infection would begin to form if he did not tend to the exposed tendons and cartilage. And sunbathing seemed like quite a pleasant thing to do as he stretched his toes out and wiggled them around to get the feel of moving.
The angel felt a little yawn spill from his throat and it made him curl his lips and wiggle his nose in an itch. Like a duckling testing the water he began to gain control of each body part, slowly, hesitantly his fingers twitched in their grasping pose, clutching at a curved junction of muscle (a shoulder?), and Castiel supposed that it was the body's beside him. He flickered his eyes up and found a barrier of stubbly chin blocking off the corpse's face, and this displeased Castiel greatly. Who was this human? Fingers twitched again and soon he found the muscle in his arms could be used, and very carefully he dragged the hand that had been resting on a firm hip bone up a flight of smooth skin, causing the fabric that had been covering this field of flesh to bunch up against his fingers, and exposing more finely tanned alabaster skin. Castiel shuddered and moaned with delight, such soft textures excited him and sent little jolts of pleasure through his nerves. It was a very involuntary response, but he still was learning.
Castiel froze as the body shifted and trembled underneath his hand, giddy with these new elicited responses. He felt the fist that had been clenching his hip rustle away from its position to catch his wandering arm and there was a very still moment in the room in which Castiel waited patiently for some kind of reaction. And suddenly their fingers were entwining together, and Castiel watched with utter fascination as he lifted it closer to his face to watch himself trace the rough, calloused hand of this man as they curiously searched each others palms, and at the delicate little tickles of skin brushing against skin a little moan escaped Castiel's lips. His eyes pondered back up and were surprised to find stern hazel green eyes watching him with passion and curiosity. It was the most beautiful thing the angel had ever experienced in his timeless life. And he knew at that moment exactly why God had told his first creations to love the humans just as much as they loved Him.
Hazel eyes widened, and suddenly reality smacked Dean in the face like waking up after a one night stand and finding a random chick in his bed. Except this was a man, and the night before had consisted of lugging this same practically dead, naked dude through the streets of New York. "Judas priest!" Dean panicked, a natural reaction, and attempted to shove away, but didn't get very far. The hand was still on his shoulder. And he was still in bed with a zombie! He did the next best thing he could think of. He flailed his limbs in the air, and finally was let go of, but without the hand to hold him back his body went tumbling off the side of the mattress. He toppled to the floor with a thud, ignored the sharp stab of pain in his thigh that was now probably bruised, scrambled to his feet, and ran screaming out the door while somehow remembering to lock it.
"Sammy, it's the zombie apocalypse! Get your fucking .45! The corpse woke up! The man isn't dead! ZOMBIE!"
Sam did not like being woken up. Especially to the sound of his brother screaming about Dawn of the Dead movie moments. Rubbing his eyes and letting out a miserable groan he reluctantly lifted himself out of bed and onto his feet. It was only nine thirty in the morning on his day off from work. A rare opportunity to catch up on sleep, and Dean was ruining it by shrieking like a little girl about dead people coming back to life. "You better not be fucking with me Dean. I swear I'll take all your Busty Asian Beauty magazines and throw them into the trash."
He stumbled out into the hallway and dragged his feet toward the living room where he found his brother tearing through their closet to find the .45. Dean didn't even consider to acknowledge Sam's presence until he victoriously lifted the gun into the air and started for his room. That is when Sammy drew the God damn line. He stood in Dean's way and grabbed the gun when Dean tried to shove by. He looked his brother dead in the eyes and said, very sternly, "What the fuck, Dean?"
"The c-corpse is a-alive, Sammy! He's a fucking zombie!" Dead looked pale and frightened, like he'd seen a ghost. And very briefly Sam began to remember the night before. He rolled his eyes and gave a hard smack to his face, sliding it down and pulling at his eyelids. Snatching the gun with a hard tug when Dean was least expecting it he turned on his heel and stomped toward his older brother's room, with more rationality than Dean, who was cowering behind his younger brother and peeking out like a child. "Go on. I'm telling you he's a zombie! He tried to eat my hand!"
Sam snorted and shook his head as he placed his hand on the doorknob, unlocked it, and twisted it open. He heard the gulp of Dean's throat, as slowly he inched it forward, and what he saw was... definitely not a fucking zombie. "This is what you woke me up for?"
Sam stared at the helpless little man staring at them with utter bewilderment, confusion, and innocence. His big blue eyes looked like they were shimmering with tears, and his thin pale pink lips were pursed and quivering. The only thing creepy about this situation was seeing him alive and awake. Sam muttered an obscenity as he smacked Dean across the head, Dean giving a small grunt as he shoved his brother aside to prove that the man was indeed a fucking zombie. But Sam was right. When he looked at that man he could only see a little lamb sitting in his bed, and his heart softened and died in his chest.
"Fuck you, bitch!" Dean huffed indignantly, an embarrassed flush of pink gracing over his freckled cheeks. The laughter of his brother did not help his melting pride, and rather unabashedly he pushed the man out of his room and slammed the door shut. He could still hear Sammy howling like a hyena as he sauntered out to the kitchen to start breakfast. Dean leaned his forehead against the cool wood of the door, and tried to recall the memories of ten minutes ago. A groan escaped his lips and he turned to look at the curious blue eyes now raised at him questioningly.
The tingling of a cold palm hushing over his hip still made his skin crawl, as he remembered waking up to that feeling, blinking his eyes open and watching as the hand examined his body. That hand still attached to his shoulder, looser than the night before, but still there. Tracing over smooth fingers. Eyes as blue as the ocean staring up at him with pleasure laced within the waves that crashed within those deep blue orbs. Dean ran his hands through his hair and let out a rush of air as he sighed. The man was still waiting expectantly. He decided it was time to chin up and address the situation.
"Look, sorry, didn't mean to freak out like that." Dean shook his head as he slowly paced toward the edge of the bed to take a seat. He clasped his hands together and placed them in his lap as he stared down at the floor to watch his toes wiggle through the plush rug. The weight on the mattress shifted hesitantly, as if asking permission, before the man crawled toward Dean and took a seat beside him, too close for Dean's usual comfort. But he ignored that small little part, and the way the man's skin was soft against him, and their arms were touching. "You just startled me. I mean yesterday you were as good as dead and now all the sudden you're up and moving."
Castiel tilted his head. He did not remember anyone coming to rescue him. Everything after the crash was a brick wall. Dean's eyes scrunched in scrutiny, examining Castiel's confused face. Those blue eyes stared into a space past Dean, toward the wall, before they focused back onto Dean's raised and waiting eyes. "No thanks?"
And suddenly there was something... Something familiar in that voice. "Dean?"
Dean looked up at his name, and his eyes widened in their sockets. "Yeah...?" A little creepy, Dean thought to himself as he watched the man's look of surprise, almost as if he was just now realizing he had a voice. He searched the man's face. "You know, an explanation would be a great place to start in this awkward scenario?"
"Dean." Castiel repeated it, rolling it on his tongue. He remembered Dean. He knew everything about Dean. Dean was apart of him now. "You are the Dean?"
"Yeah, I am the Dean." A swell of pride riddled itself into Dean's stomach, and he nodded his head with approval. He liked the way that sounded. The Dean. Yeah, he could get used to that. "What about you? What is your name?"
"Dean..." Castiel leaned in closer and the Dean could not help but flaunt his gaze down toward those moist pink lips that were a hair away from Dean's own salivating mouth, ghosting warm breath that fluttered against his throat tiny butterfly kisses (Shit, ten minutes ago is taking its toll again). Dean who had lost his mother to a fire and his father to a car accident. Dean who had grown up in every dingy hotel room they could get their hands on. Dean who had raised his brother while his father tried to work and keep up the pay to make sure his family survived. Dean who was a broken, imperfect, fractured soul. Castiel felt his heart quench with sympathy. Dean was now apart of him. He could feel every tiny little memory of emotion curling in his veins (everything you've ever felt is inside of me now). Suddenly, a gear seemed to shift in Castiel's brain, and his eyes went cold and everything was still again, as his name whispered itself into his ear, like a reminder of who he was and what exactly he was. "I am Castiel."
"Okie dokie then. Ever heard of personal space Castiel? You sure could use some." He placed his hands against the man's chest and gave him a soft push that made him fall back onto his rump. "Now you want to explain to me why I had to drag you here naked from Kingdom Come?"
"I fell..." Castiel tilted his head a little to the side, and scanned the room with his deep calculating blue eyes. Suddenly they fell upon Dean with all the serious composure of a statue. Dean inhaled sharply and tensed up. They were sad, puppy blue eyes that were searching for something they'd lost. Dean felt his heart weep a bit before he realized how gay this moment going on between them was.
"How'd you fall?" The ice was broken.
God, you officially think I'm a raging, closeted homo don't you? Is this some kind of innuendo? Are you really trying to turn me to the dark side? Or is this a peace offering? An apology for the night before, and all the other god damn nights you weren't there? Well thanks, God. Thanks a lot for sending me a hobo! Dean eased back and away from their proximity to actually breathe his own air. He could tell he wasn't going to get an answer anytime soon.
He didn't know what to say after that. He simply waited and watched Castiel's calculating eyes, far off somewhere in a world that obviously wasn't one Dean was aware of. He was almost thinking of sneaking away when Sam opened the door and appeared with a giant, happy, loving grin on his big Sasquatch face.
"Good morning world and all that inhabits it. We have a breakfast that consists of sunny-side up eggs, hash browns, and bacon served nice and crispy and drizzled in syrup, with a beverage of your favorite vitamin C filled orange juice." Dean had completely forgotten the creepy moment for the time being and followed Sam out to the kitchen with his tail wagging behind him. When he sat at the table his mouth was already spilling with drool. Castiel had finally snapped out of his daze and cautiously stood to his feet to wander through the hallway to watch. "Did I mention I put it all in one big smile-y face just for my big jerk-faced brother?"
"I'd call you a bitch right now but you just made my day." Dean dug in as Castiel tilted his head to the side in wonderment. Sam sat himself down as well, and looked up at Castiel who was staring blankly at the scene before him like an awkward little wallflower decoration. Sam gestured toward the chair beside him and shrugged his shoulders. Dean silently peeked at the brunette from the corner of his eyes as he chewed his food. He swallowed as he raised a brow and listened silently to his brother who spoke up.
"You can join us you know. I made you food too."
The little angel pursed his lips and quickly tip toed his way across the cold linoleum tile that nipped at the palms of his feet with chilled kisses. He raised his eyes to give Sam a gracious sort of look. "Thank you very much. My name is Castiel."
Sam gave a broad smile. "Sam."
Castiel nodded and took a seat, but not before examining every square inch of the cheap fake leather like material with his hand and knitting his brows in a frustrated little face. Dean almost barked at him to just take a damn seat if Sam hadn't caught him and glowered at his speech prepared open mouth, and if he didn't already have a giant strip of bacon shoved halfway down his throat preventing him from speaking out. Castiel stared down at the lopsided caricature of food staring up at him with a tiny smile. The right yellow yolk eye was oozing a bit, like it was crying. The bacon had grease bubbles sizzling off of it still, and the hash brown nose now had a little yellow yolk booger dripping from it. Castiel was not human. He did not require sustenance like these two did, so he took to studying the two as they barreled food down their throats in a most primitive manner, learning human characteristics with each bite they took.
Sam had been mid-flight when he noticed the curious, beady little eyes staring up at him, and he narrowed his gaze with suspicion. Blue eyes widened, caught in a crime that was not committed or even known, and a nervous hand picked up the fork next to him on the table and began to poke at the meal before him. It was strange watching a grown man play with his food like a five year old. Hoping Sam was no longer watching him like he was the biggest question in the world, Castiel peeked up from beneath his lashes to see, and only found those dark brown eyes intensely staring at him now. The angel's nose wrinkled as he watched in wait for Sam to give up. It was not at all working though.
Dean had not noticed the two's stare off, until as he went to open his mouth and shove another fork full of food in he looked up and paused to look back and forth from his brother to Castiel, who were really having quite the passionate stare off. Feeling awkward, and disgusted he let his fork drop down onto the plate with a little clatter that broke the moment in half. Two sets of eyes landed on Dean at that moment and the spot light shone brightly on him now. His eyes widened, and he raised his hands in surrender. "Guys, guys! Come on and eat your feast!"
Sam turned his head at the sound of a plate squeaking against their metal kitchen table surface. Castiel had pushed his food away from him. He looked up to Sam first, then glanced at Dean who was speechless at that point in time. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms. "I do not require this."
Dean sputtered a bit. "Dude, everyone needs food. It's a human thing. Fish gotta' swim, birds gotta' eat. You know?"
Castiel's head did the tilt a whirl maneuver, and this is when Dean realized that this would be a routinely move on Castiel's part when ever he did not know what the hell someone was saying. "I do not."
Sam cut in now, clearly angered slightly by Castiel's stubborn composure and taking the rejection of his home cooked meal a little personal. "Look you were practically dead in that alley way yesterday. You need to get something in your stomach. You look at skinny as a rail as it is. A little grease never hurt anyone."
"No."
"Dude, don't make me pry your mouth open with my bare hands and shove it down there myself. 'Cause I totally will do that. Besides, you need some meat on your bones. Like Sam said you're as skinny as a god damn skeleton." Dean emphasized himself by taking a rather forceful and aggressive bite of his bacon, which made Castiel cringe slightly at the sight.
"Dean's right. You should eat, man." Sam had calmed down again. He probably realized that he was arguing with a man who had passed out in the middle of New York, naked. Which basically meant it was quite a pathetic thing to do. His composure melted into a benign calmness. But Castiel held as steady as a brick wall with a stone like expression on his face as he narrowed his eyes.
"Could you at least try and act like a human then?"
"You wish for me to pretend to be something I am not?" Castiel did that damn tilting head again. That's before he realized what the hell the man said.
"You want to run that by me again? I don't think I heard you right." Dean proceeded to wipe the ear wax clean from his ears as he leaned in to hear better. "'Kay, I'm ready."
"He said he isn't a human Dean." Sam interrupted, taking a bite of his egg. He really needed some whiskey. Any kind of alcohol would be nice at this point, even if it was the morning. He was ready to get drunk. He rolled his eyes when he heard the pound of fists on a table. It looked like Dean was ready for some too. "I guess he must have gotten one bad ass blow to the head or something."
"Of course. Of course we got stuck with mini Hitler over here to save." Dean was giving Cas the weary stink eye now. And where the hell did the nickname come from again? He did not need this at eight in the morning. "Quit yanking my leg around Cas, and eat."
Castiel's eyes fell into utter confusion and he sputtered out something incoherent under his breath. "I'm not yanking anyone's leg around Dean."
"It's an expression." Dean rolled his eyes as he said this. "You're definitely something other worldly."
Castiel's eyes narrowed calculatingly at Dean, like he was the smallest object on the planet, like he was a moron. He spoke slowly, and matter-of-factly as if speaking to a child. Dean did not like being treated as a child. "Yes, I am an angel. I am from Heaven."
"Dude, it was another expression." The tension was growing in the room. Sam ate quietly to himself, musing over the proceedings. Dean was now on full-throttle debate mode, staring hard at Cas who looked to be pondering over the form of expression as he shook his head and sputtered. "Are you kidding me? How hard did you get whacked on the head last night?"
"I do not fully comprehend these expressions, no. I suppose I am a more literal creature. And I did take quite a hard fall..."
"You mean you don't beat around the bush? You just get straight to the point." He needed to stop 'expressing' himself now, because clearly Cas just wasn't getting the bigger picture. And where did the nickname come from!? Cas? Dean ran his hands through his hair and blew out a breath of exasperation. Castiel was still staring blankly across the table into Dean's eyes.
"Alcohol anyone?" When the staring didn't stop, Dean snapped his fingers. "Quit eye raping me and eat your damn breakfast."
"I was not-."
"Okay, enough. You know you're not funny when no one gets the joke. I get it." He was about to reconsider saving this man. "Don't you have anywhere to go? Any family who might be missing you?"
Castiel's face went into the darkest shade of blank. "My family... Yes they are probably looking for me."
"Oh good. I'll just give them a call if you have their number and have them come pick you up if you want?" Dean was considering getting up to go get the phone when he looked upon Castiel's sad, depressed little expression. He swallowed down the food in his mouth and stressed his jaw. He and Sam exchanged a look, before Dean grew a pair and cleared his throat. "You okay there Cas?"
"I do not think calling them would help me at all. They are at war right now and my wings are... My presence would only be a nuisance on their part." He furrowed his brows, lower lip puckered out into a thoughtful pout as he glanced up at the two brothers who were raising their brows at him. Sniffing a little the angel gave a lopsided frown and picked up his fork. Dean and Sam watched with quite an amount of shock as Castiel carefully cut out a small chunk of his egg and hesitantly plopped it into his mouth. Dean particularly noticed the way his teeth grazed the tips of the fork and his tongue flickered out to catch a drop of the yellow yolk dripping down the edge of the silver. His body gave a violent shudder and something in his pants twitched. Cursing God he muttered obscenities about Heavenly eating methods that would be the death of him. Castiel's next face also brought a string of eye twitches, as it contorted into a little 'o' and a soft mewling sound escaped his soft pink lips. He glowered and shifted in his seat. Castiel's eyes shone brightly and he smiled brilliantly up at Sam, who looked taken back by the sudden enthusiasm. "This is a most delicious breakfast you have concocted."
"Don't ever say anything with the work cock in it again," Dean whispered under his breath, mainly to himself as he scratched an invisible itch on the tip of his nose and looked over at the plain, dull, very boring and not arousing wallpaper next to him. He was chewing his food rapidly, no longer savoring the flavor. He figured he hadn't been laid in over two months. It was his hormones getting to him. And it was not going well down in his PJ bottoms at that moment. His eyes flickered back to the brunette who was tilting his head at Dean, and staring idly. That was it. Standing up from his seat he smiled and excused himself. "I need to go get dressed and showered."
"You didn't even finish your breakfast Dean." Most unusual, Sam observed. Dean always finished his food. The man had a bottomless pit for God's sake! He watched as the older Winchester flipped him the bird and sped out of the room, before he turned his head and frowned a little at the brunette angel innocently taking dainty bites of his breakfast. "Are you going to shower and change or is that too human for you as well?"
Castiel swallowed and pursed his lips. "I suppose since I am human for now I could indulge in humanly activities, yes."
Sam raised his brows and shook his head. "Wow. Okay. Well... You can go bother Dean with the shower thing and I'll clean up in here."
Castiel acknowledged this order with a nod and quickly stuffed the rest of his hash brown into his mouth before he stood to his feet unsteadily and made his way back for the hallway. Fumbling with the doorknob as he found the end of the hall he finally grasped it firmly and gave it a good twist and shove. And when he pushed the door open and looked up his eyes widened slightly. A fire burned through his veins that from the rose colored hue of his cheeks to the tips of his curling toes and to his groin. Throat suddenly parched and dry he swallowed a shallow gulp of air, Adam's apple bobbing as he stared back at the deer caught in headlights green that were as frozen as ice cubes in an ice tray.
"There used to be such a thing as knocking, was there not?"
To put it bluntly he was quite naked. Beyond naked really. The contours of his beautifully sculpted milky peach chest were lined with muscle as smooth as silk. The curve of his ass was tight and perfectly round. He was the caricature of perfection. Every little scar and bump and bruise only defined him further to the core of his shining soul. Physically as splendid to look at as he was spiritually. Castiel found his conscious once again and smiled at Dean, briefly skirting glances any lower than necessary. "I apologize. I did not realize you would be... in this kind of state... when I entered."
"Have you gotten a good view?" Castiel could feel the flush of Dean's cheeks, like tingles under his skin that felt of pins and needles pricking into him and making his hairs rise attentively. Shyly gathering up his clothes Dean scratched the back of his head and gestured for the angel to close the door, which he did oblige too, leaving them standing awkwardly before each other. "Poor choice of words by the way."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing." Dean pursed his lips and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "What are you doing in here now?"
He had almost forgotten the grand purpose of going in there in the first place. Castiel shrugged his shoulders and glanced about the messy little room. Scattered bits of clothes here and there. Soda cans decorating the tops of window sills and - was that mold growing off the side of a coke can? The angel bit his lip as his eyes widened and turned back onto the brunette who had been watching with some amusement.
"Like my collection?" He laughed at the angel's pursed lips. "I was planning on cleaning sometime soon."
"I see." Castiel commented slowly, gliding his eyes over the pair of boxers that seemed to be sewn into the carpet. Were there such thing as boxer brief plants? They looked like they'd bloomed right out of the wood floors that sat beneath the rug. His eyes didn't leave them even as he spoke to Dean. "Sam suggested I take a... shower? But I do not know where this shower is, how to use it, what it is, or what I do with it? He said to bother you about it."
Dean gave a little groan, rubbed his chin and frowned very deeply at Cas. "What am I your dad now?"
"You are most definitely not my Father." Castiel's eyes went quite dark and serious with this comment, voice as deep and rocky as gravel scooped up into a bag and ground together. He narrowed his deep blue eyes on Dean who coughed and slowly backed away toward the bathroom door. "I did not ask for your help. I will do it myself if I have to. I'm sure this showering thing could not be that difficult to comprehend."
"Well I have to do this showering thing right now. And I am not going to sit there and hold your hand or help you sponge yourself." He briefly remembered Castiel's naked body sliding up against him and shuttered at the memory. His eye twitched a bit. "Not again. Not ever again..."
"Well then perhaps I could simply stand by and observe you to learn." How was this man speaking so calmly and seriously about something that was a complete joke? A bark of laughter escaped Dean's lips. He chuckled lightly under his breath, a low rumble that slowly died down with the unwavering expression in Castiel's eyes. His nostrils flared and his lips cringed up in utter mortification.
"You aren't kidding are you?" Dean quivered and wobbled on his feet. A surge of embarrassment and anger quelled inside of his stomach and burned at his veins. "Dude, that is not going to happen. I'm not going to stand there and have you watch me scrub my ball sacks or any other body part for that matter. No way. Not going to happen. Fuckin' creepy ass shit."
"Dean, this is not a matter you can question. It is very important for me to learn human behaviors so I can fit in during my stay on Earth."
"Jesus you make it sound like you're going to drown in there!" Dean gave a loud guttural groan and pinched at his cheeks to make sure this wasn't some horrible nightmare-ish dream he was stuck in.
"That's blasphem-."
"I don't care!" He snapped bitterly and for a very brief moment, yet what seemed like a millennia, they stared intently at each other. It is when Dean finally realized by the look in the other man's eyes that this was not a joke. He was serious. And Dean gave a defeated sigh, rubbed his eyes tiredly and with exasperation shook his head. "Fine. Come on. You get one god damn side of the bathtub and I get the other. The bubbles are the barrier. I swear if I feel even a touch of your hand or anything else creepy (which you can only imagine what else is creepy and perverted) I will give you a bigger concussion than you already have!"
He figured what the hell. He'd already seen the guy naked. Cas had already seen him naked. What real difference was there in being naked together in water? It was like High School all over again... or firemen. No touching would be involved of course. Dean could live with awkward. Castiel smiled curtly and took his first step toward Dean. It will be fine. He was half way there now. Fine.... He stopped in front of Dean with an expectant look in his cerulean orbs. Shit. "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"
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Cerulean orbs screamed rape loud and clear. Bare shoulders shivering naked and glistening with moist droplets of water that had been splashed in the fight. There was only a small remnant of guilt shivering through Dean's body as he stared back at panicky blue eyes.
"You have to take your clothes off Cas..."
Dean watched blue eyes go wide. A raised brow and a worried lip. Castiel's nostrils flared and he glanced up from the bathtub he had been staring at for more than three minutes. "Naked?"
Point the obvious out, right. That's what he should do. It's not like Dean had just said that or anything. Rolled green eyes cast themselves back upon the figure that had seemed to shrink in the span of time he'd looked away. "Yeah. Naked. Clothes off. Bare skin. You know?"
"I do not wish to do that..." Those deep, dark eyes skimmed over the tub with fascination and stopped on the drain. " What is this place?"
He wanted to shoot himself. Call it a day. Pretend he'd never rescued a naked man from the clutches of evil. "Fuck, Cas. Come on, are you kidding me? You turn the spicket on, and the water comes out. You let it fill up. You put some god damn bubble soap in there. You step in, wash your hair with shampoo, clean yourself with that little yellow bar there and call it a day."
He left out that sometimes you used the shower to have a little fun in. The guy didn't need to know that. Setting his clothes down onto the sink counter Dean turned back around to face the angel, who was shaking his head in some kind of internal argument. He must have felt Dean's gaze because his eyes slowly turned to the corners, a sideways glance Dean thought. He raised his hands in the air to show off his nudity like they didn't already know he was.
"It's not like you have anything to hide. I've already seen you."
"I do not wish to be naked in this small space with you. It is a sin."
"It's a sin to bathe with another man? You didn't get in there with your brother when you were five?" He gave a shrug. "You're missing out man."
Of course he was being sarcastic. He didn't want to get in there either. But they were already there, and he was already naked. Make use of what you have. When in Rome do as the Romans. Dean reached out and took hold of the bottom hem of Castiel's night shirt, giving it a small tug. This small tug resulted in a violent jerk on Castiel's part. I mean the type of jerk that sent men tumbling. Which is why Dean's body toppled forward into Castiel's, and Castiel with this new weight lost his balance, slipped, and they both tumbled back into the dark, deep pit behind them.
This is where they found them selves staring back and forth at each other. Castiel had literally kung-fu kicked Dean away once he gained vision again and caught his breath. The water was slowly licking closer to the brim. Castiel was still wearing Dean's pajamas, awkwardly spread limbs backed against the end of the tub.
"What am I going to do with you?" Dean shook his head as he leaned closer to the man, who trembled and cowered away from his touch. "Come on stop being a baby. You're the one who has personal space issues."
He briefly skimmed the wet cloth of the shirt clinging to his wet skin, and slowly worked his hand under to lift it over his head. Delicate work, he presumed his job like an expert. An expert in what you ask? What do you think? It took a moment but he coaxed Castiel to raise his arms and grant him permission to take the shirt off. This left pajama bottoms and boxers. His fingers grabbed hold of pants lines and gently worked them down slender thighs.
"Dean. This is making me uncomfortable."
"I'm glad you can be so blunt." Dean mumbled indignantly under his breath, concentrating as the cloth got caught on the bend of his knee. A minute later Castiel realized the problem and straightened out his legs. The pants came off. Naked flesh was exposed. Dean gave a little smile of accomplishment and shook his head as he leaned back into his corner of the tub. "How hard was that?"
Castiel stared back at him bug eyed and with lips tightly clenched shut in a little line upon his face. "I do not like bathing."
A little sigh escaped Dean's lips. "Shut up, Cas."
Chapter Two
Rating: R
Pairing[s]: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Jess
Information/Background:The title comes from the song "Strange and Beautiful" by Aqualung.
Summary: Castiel falls. Not from his Heavenly rank, but from an injury that he is pertinently unable to heal. He ends up landing smack-dab in a dank little alley way on his Father's creation - Earth. Who so happens to be there to save the day? A man named Dean Winchester, who is about to get more than he can handle on his plate.
Author's Note: Enjoy~ And comment your opinions. It makes me happy! Even if it's constructive criticism. Just... don't full-out flame me to death. That would hurt. Sorry it's been a while. I've never written something so long... Which is sad! Because this is only like 6,500 words. Hahahaha.
octobersghosts.livejournal.com/4663.html#cutid1 - Part One
He heard the dull, gentle thrum of a heart pounding inside a mortal chest next to his head, and rugged breaths of air tickling the skin on his forehead. It is what lulled him out of his sleep and encouraged him to flutter open his eyes. Experiencing such feelings was foreign to his being, therefore waking up with streams of sunlight prickling at his eyelashes was unusual as well, and his initial response to humanly instincts was to begin the daily process of breathing and living. Breathe because it was all he had left now, after falling so hard.
A little noise escaped his lips, a noise he did not know he could make. His now human body ached with the weight of God's fist smashing into his human bones, breaking them and turning them to dust beneath his flesh. The world was his anchor now, and gravity did bind him. He found that there was a small vibrating hum of his grace still tracing through blood filled veins, but the rest... The rest was gone. An immortal trapped in the inevitability of decay. He prayed that his Father could hear his pleading cries for help. Without the power to heal his wounded wings, no longer could he take flight to find the Gates of his Home. He was bound to the soil beneath his feet and the beating heart inside his human chest, ticking away. Time was of the essence. And with each second passing by he could feel the hands of death choking him tighter.
Castiel could feel the warmth of another body wrapped around him before he could even fully gain sight in both of his eyes, for they were sensitive and blurry with a newborn's insight. A shudder of thrill ran down his spine and he cuddled further into the other body that was thriving with life. It made him feel safe as strong arms tightened protectively around him, and a fist squeezed reassuringly on his hip. As the world began to grow less dizzying he could focus on the patch of peachy cream skin pressed against his face. Every little ounce of warmth that he soaked up through his pores made his body shiver with content and satisfaction. He wanted to unfold his wings and flex them out, as they were sore and tired tucked against his back, and he feared an infection would begin to form if he did not tend to the exposed tendons and cartilage. And sunbathing seemed like quite a pleasant thing to do as he stretched his toes out and wiggled them around to get the feel of moving.
The angel felt a little yawn spill from his throat and it made him curl his lips and wiggle his nose in an itch. Like a duckling testing the water he began to gain control of each body part, slowly, hesitantly his fingers twitched in their grasping pose, clutching at a curved junction of muscle (a shoulder?), and Castiel supposed that it was the body's beside him. He flickered his eyes up and found a barrier of stubbly chin blocking off the corpse's face, and this displeased Castiel greatly. Who was this human? Fingers twitched again and soon he found the muscle in his arms could be used, and very carefully he dragged the hand that had been resting on a firm hip bone up a flight of smooth skin, causing the fabric that had been covering this field of flesh to bunch up against his fingers, and exposing more finely tanned alabaster skin. Castiel shuddered and moaned with delight, such soft textures excited him and sent little jolts of pleasure through his nerves. It was a very involuntary response, but he still was learning.
Castiel froze as the body shifted and trembled underneath his hand, giddy with these new elicited responses. He felt the fist that had been clenching his hip rustle away from its position to catch his wandering arm and there was a very still moment in the room in which Castiel waited patiently for some kind of reaction. And suddenly their fingers were entwining together, and Castiel watched with utter fascination as he lifted it closer to his face to watch himself trace the rough, calloused hand of this man as they curiously searched each others palms, and at the delicate little tickles of skin brushing against skin a little moan escaped Castiel's lips. His eyes pondered back up and were surprised to find stern hazel green eyes watching him with passion and curiosity. It was the most beautiful thing the angel had ever experienced in his timeless life. And he knew at that moment exactly why God had told his first creations to love the humans just as much as they loved Him.
Hazel eyes widened, and suddenly reality smacked Dean in the face like waking up after a one night stand and finding a random chick in his bed. Except this was a man, and the night before had consisted of lugging this same practically dead, naked dude through the streets of New York. "Judas priest!" Dean panicked, a natural reaction, and attempted to shove away, but didn't get very far. The hand was still on his shoulder. And he was still in bed with a zombie! He did the next best thing he could think of. He flailed his limbs in the air, and finally was let go of, but without the hand to hold him back his body went tumbling off the side of the mattress. He toppled to the floor with a thud, ignored the sharp stab of pain in his thigh that was now probably bruised, scrambled to his feet, and ran screaming out the door while somehow remembering to lock it.
"Sammy, it's the zombie apocalypse! Get your fucking .45! The corpse woke up! The man isn't dead! ZOMBIE!"
Sam did not like being woken up. Especially to the sound of his brother screaming about Dawn of the Dead movie moments. Rubbing his eyes and letting out a miserable groan he reluctantly lifted himself out of bed and onto his feet. It was only nine thirty in the morning on his day off from work. A rare opportunity to catch up on sleep, and Dean was ruining it by shrieking like a little girl about dead people coming back to life. "You better not be fucking with me Dean. I swear I'll take all your Busty Asian Beauty magazines and throw them into the trash."
He stumbled out into the hallway and dragged his feet toward the living room where he found his brother tearing through their closet to find the .45. Dean didn't even consider to acknowledge Sam's presence until he victoriously lifted the gun into the air and started for his room. That is when Sammy drew the God damn line. He stood in Dean's way and grabbed the gun when Dean tried to shove by. He looked his brother dead in the eyes and said, very sternly, "What the fuck, Dean?"
"The c-corpse is a-alive, Sammy! He's a fucking zombie!" Dead looked pale and frightened, like he'd seen a ghost. And very briefly Sam began to remember the night before. He rolled his eyes and gave a hard smack to his face, sliding it down and pulling at his eyelids. Snatching the gun with a hard tug when Dean was least expecting it he turned on his heel and stomped toward his older brother's room, with more rationality than Dean, who was cowering behind his younger brother and peeking out like a child. "Go on. I'm telling you he's a zombie! He tried to eat my hand!"
Sam snorted and shook his head as he placed his hand on the doorknob, unlocked it, and twisted it open. He heard the gulp of Dean's throat, as slowly he inched it forward, and what he saw was... definitely not a fucking zombie. "This is what you woke me up for?"
Sam stared at the helpless little man staring at them with utter bewilderment, confusion, and innocence. His big blue eyes looked like they were shimmering with tears, and his thin pale pink lips were pursed and quivering. The only thing creepy about this situation was seeing him alive and awake. Sam muttered an obscenity as he smacked Dean across the head, Dean giving a small grunt as he shoved his brother aside to prove that the man was indeed a fucking zombie. But Sam was right. When he looked at that man he could only see a little lamb sitting in his bed, and his heart softened and died in his chest.
"Fuck you, bitch!" Dean huffed indignantly, an embarrassed flush of pink gracing over his freckled cheeks. The laughter of his brother did not help his melting pride, and rather unabashedly he pushed the man out of his room and slammed the door shut. He could still hear Sammy howling like a hyena as he sauntered out to the kitchen to start breakfast. Dean leaned his forehead against the cool wood of the door, and tried to recall the memories of ten minutes ago. A groan escaped his lips and he turned to look at the curious blue eyes now raised at him questioningly.
The tingling of a cold palm hushing over his hip still made his skin crawl, as he remembered waking up to that feeling, blinking his eyes open and watching as the hand examined his body. That hand still attached to his shoulder, looser than the night before, but still there. Tracing over smooth fingers. Eyes as blue as the ocean staring up at him with pleasure laced within the waves that crashed within those deep blue orbs. Dean ran his hands through his hair and let out a rush of air as he sighed. The man was still waiting expectantly. He decided it was time to chin up and address the situation.
"Look, sorry, didn't mean to freak out like that." Dean shook his head as he slowly paced toward the edge of the bed to take a seat. He clasped his hands together and placed them in his lap as he stared down at the floor to watch his toes wiggle through the plush rug. The weight on the mattress shifted hesitantly, as if asking permission, before the man crawled toward Dean and took a seat beside him, too close for Dean's usual comfort. But he ignored that small little part, and the way the man's skin was soft against him, and their arms were touching. "You just startled me. I mean yesterday you were as good as dead and now all the sudden you're up and moving."
Castiel tilted his head. He did not remember anyone coming to rescue him. Everything after the crash was a brick wall. Dean's eyes scrunched in scrutiny, examining Castiel's confused face. Those blue eyes stared into a space past Dean, toward the wall, before they focused back onto Dean's raised and waiting eyes. "No thanks?"
And suddenly there was something... Something familiar in that voice. "Dean?"
Dean looked up at his name, and his eyes widened in their sockets. "Yeah...?" A little creepy, Dean thought to himself as he watched the man's look of surprise, almost as if he was just now realizing he had a voice. He searched the man's face. "You know, an explanation would be a great place to start in this awkward scenario?"
"Dean." Castiel repeated it, rolling it on his tongue. He remembered Dean. He knew everything about Dean. Dean was apart of him now. "You are the Dean?"
"Yeah, I am the Dean." A swell of pride riddled itself into Dean's stomach, and he nodded his head with approval. He liked the way that sounded. The Dean. Yeah, he could get used to that. "What about you? What is your name?"
"Dean..." Castiel leaned in closer and the Dean could not help but flaunt his gaze down toward those moist pink lips that were a hair away from Dean's own salivating mouth, ghosting warm breath that fluttered against his throat tiny butterfly kisses (Shit, ten minutes ago is taking its toll again). Dean who had lost his mother to a fire and his father to a car accident. Dean who had grown up in every dingy hotel room they could get their hands on. Dean who had raised his brother while his father tried to work and keep up the pay to make sure his family survived. Dean who was a broken, imperfect, fractured soul. Castiel felt his heart quench with sympathy. Dean was now apart of him. He could feel every tiny little memory of emotion curling in his veins (everything you've ever felt is inside of me now). Suddenly, a gear seemed to shift in Castiel's brain, and his eyes went cold and everything was still again, as his name whispered itself into his ear, like a reminder of who he was and what exactly he was. "I am Castiel."
"Okie dokie then. Ever heard of personal space Castiel? You sure could use some." He placed his hands against the man's chest and gave him a soft push that made him fall back onto his rump. "Now you want to explain to me why I had to drag you here naked from Kingdom Come?"
"I fell..." Castiel tilted his head a little to the side, and scanned the room with his deep calculating blue eyes. Suddenly they fell upon Dean with all the serious composure of a statue. Dean inhaled sharply and tensed up. They were sad, puppy blue eyes that were searching for something they'd lost. Dean felt his heart weep a bit before he realized how gay this moment going on between them was.
"How'd you fall?" The ice was broken.
God, you officially think I'm a raging, closeted homo don't you? Is this some kind of innuendo? Are you really trying to turn me to the dark side? Or is this a peace offering? An apology for the night before, and all the other god damn nights you weren't there? Well thanks, God. Thanks a lot for sending me a hobo! Dean eased back and away from their proximity to actually breathe his own air. He could tell he wasn't going to get an answer anytime soon.
He didn't know what to say after that. He simply waited and watched Castiel's calculating eyes, far off somewhere in a world that obviously wasn't one Dean was aware of. He was almost thinking of sneaking away when Sam opened the door and appeared with a giant, happy, loving grin on his big Sasquatch face.
"Good morning world and all that inhabits it. We have a breakfast that consists of sunny-side up eggs, hash browns, and bacon served nice and crispy and drizzled in syrup, with a beverage of your favorite vitamin C filled orange juice." Dean had completely forgotten the creepy moment for the time being and followed Sam out to the kitchen with his tail wagging behind him. When he sat at the table his mouth was already spilling with drool. Castiel had finally snapped out of his daze and cautiously stood to his feet to wander through the hallway to watch. "Did I mention I put it all in one big smile-y face just for my big jerk-faced brother?"
"I'd call you a bitch right now but you just made my day." Dean dug in as Castiel tilted his head to the side in wonderment. Sam sat himself down as well, and looked up at Castiel who was staring blankly at the scene before him like an awkward little wallflower decoration. Sam gestured toward the chair beside him and shrugged his shoulders. Dean silently peeked at the brunette from the corner of his eyes as he chewed his food. He swallowed as he raised a brow and listened silently to his brother who spoke up.
"You can join us you know. I made you food too."
The little angel pursed his lips and quickly tip toed his way across the cold linoleum tile that nipped at the palms of his feet with chilled kisses. He raised his eyes to give Sam a gracious sort of look. "Thank you very much. My name is Castiel."
Sam gave a broad smile. "Sam."
Castiel nodded and took a seat, but not before examining every square inch of the cheap fake leather like material with his hand and knitting his brows in a frustrated little face. Dean almost barked at him to just take a damn seat if Sam hadn't caught him and glowered at his speech prepared open mouth, and if he didn't already have a giant strip of bacon shoved halfway down his throat preventing him from speaking out. Castiel stared down at the lopsided caricature of food staring up at him with a tiny smile. The right yellow yolk eye was oozing a bit, like it was crying. The bacon had grease bubbles sizzling off of it still, and the hash brown nose now had a little yellow yolk booger dripping from it. Castiel was not human. He did not require sustenance like these two did, so he took to studying the two as they barreled food down their throats in a most primitive manner, learning human characteristics with each bite they took.
Sam had been mid-flight when he noticed the curious, beady little eyes staring up at him, and he narrowed his gaze with suspicion. Blue eyes widened, caught in a crime that was not committed or even known, and a nervous hand picked up the fork next to him on the table and began to poke at the meal before him. It was strange watching a grown man play with his food like a five year old. Hoping Sam was no longer watching him like he was the biggest question in the world, Castiel peeked up from beneath his lashes to see, and only found those dark brown eyes intensely staring at him now. The angel's nose wrinkled as he watched in wait for Sam to give up. It was not at all working though.
Dean had not noticed the two's stare off, until as he went to open his mouth and shove another fork full of food in he looked up and paused to look back and forth from his brother to Castiel, who were really having quite the passionate stare off. Feeling awkward, and disgusted he let his fork drop down onto the plate with a little clatter that broke the moment in half. Two sets of eyes landed on Dean at that moment and the spot light shone brightly on him now. His eyes widened, and he raised his hands in surrender. "Guys, guys! Come on and eat your feast!"
Sam turned his head at the sound of a plate squeaking against their metal kitchen table surface. Castiel had pushed his food away from him. He looked up to Sam first, then glanced at Dean who was speechless at that point in time. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms. "I do not require this."
Dean sputtered a bit. "Dude, everyone needs food. It's a human thing. Fish gotta' swim, birds gotta' eat. You know?"
Castiel's head did the tilt a whirl maneuver, and this is when Dean realized that this would be a routinely move on Castiel's part when ever he did not know what the hell someone was saying. "I do not."
Sam cut in now, clearly angered slightly by Castiel's stubborn composure and taking the rejection of his home cooked meal a little personal. "Look you were practically dead in that alley way yesterday. You need to get something in your stomach. You look at skinny as a rail as it is. A little grease never hurt anyone."
"No."
"Dude, don't make me pry your mouth open with my bare hands and shove it down there myself. 'Cause I totally will do that. Besides, you need some meat on your bones. Like Sam said you're as skinny as a god damn skeleton." Dean emphasized himself by taking a rather forceful and aggressive bite of his bacon, which made Castiel cringe slightly at the sight.
"Dean's right. You should eat, man." Sam had calmed down again. He probably realized that he was arguing with a man who had passed out in the middle of New York, naked. Which basically meant it was quite a pathetic thing to do. His composure melted into a benign calmness. But Castiel held as steady as a brick wall with a stone like expression on his face as he narrowed his eyes.
"Could you at least try and act like a human then?"
"You wish for me to pretend to be something I am not?" Castiel did that damn tilting head again. That's before he realized what the hell the man said.
"You want to run that by me again? I don't think I heard you right." Dean proceeded to wipe the ear wax clean from his ears as he leaned in to hear better. "'Kay, I'm ready."
"He said he isn't a human Dean." Sam interrupted, taking a bite of his egg. He really needed some whiskey. Any kind of alcohol would be nice at this point, even if it was the morning. He was ready to get drunk. He rolled his eyes when he heard the pound of fists on a table. It looked like Dean was ready for some too. "I guess he must have gotten one bad ass blow to the head or something."
"Of course. Of course we got stuck with mini Hitler over here to save." Dean was giving Cas the weary stink eye now. And where the hell did the nickname come from again? He did not need this at eight in the morning. "Quit yanking my leg around Cas, and eat."
Castiel's eyes fell into utter confusion and he sputtered out something incoherent under his breath. "I'm not yanking anyone's leg around Dean."
"It's an expression." Dean rolled his eyes as he said this. "You're definitely something other worldly."
Castiel's eyes narrowed calculatingly at Dean, like he was the smallest object on the planet, like he was a moron. He spoke slowly, and matter-of-factly as if speaking to a child. Dean did not like being treated as a child. "Yes, I am an angel. I am from Heaven."
"Dude, it was another expression." The tension was growing in the room. Sam ate quietly to himself, musing over the proceedings. Dean was now on full-throttle debate mode, staring hard at Cas who looked to be pondering over the form of expression as he shook his head and sputtered. "Are you kidding me? How hard did you get whacked on the head last night?"
"I do not fully comprehend these expressions, no. I suppose I am a more literal creature. And I did take quite a hard fall..."
"You mean you don't beat around the bush? You just get straight to the point." He needed to stop 'expressing' himself now, because clearly Cas just wasn't getting the bigger picture. And where did the nickname come from!? Cas? Dean ran his hands through his hair and blew out a breath of exasperation. Castiel was still staring blankly across the table into Dean's eyes.
"Alcohol anyone?" When the staring didn't stop, Dean snapped his fingers. "Quit eye raping me and eat your damn breakfast."
"I was not-."
"Okay, enough. You know you're not funny when no one gets the joke. I get it." He was about to reconsider saving this man. "Don't you have anywhere to go? Any family who might be missing you?"
Castiel's face went into the darkest shade of blank. "My family... Yes they are probably looking for me."
"Oh good. I'll just give them a call if you have their number and have them come pick you up if you want?" Dean was considering getting up to go get the phone when he looked upon Castiel's sad, depressed little expression. He swallowed down the food in his mouth and stressed his jaw. He and Sam exchanged a look, before Dean grew a pair and cleared his throat. "You okay there Cas?"
"I do not think calling them would help me at all. They are at war right now and my wings are... My presence would only be a nuisance on their part." He furrowed his brows, lower lip puckered out into a thoughtful pout as he glanced up at the two brothers who were raising their brows at him. Sniffing a little the angel gave a lopsided frown and picked up his fork. Dean and Sam watched with quite an amount of shock as Castiel carefully cut out a small chunk of his egg and hesitantly plopped it into his mouth. Dean particularly noticed the way his teeth grazed the tips of the fork and his tongue flickered out to catch a drop of the yellow yolk dripping down the edge of the silver. His body gave a violent shudder and something in his pants twitched. Cursing God he muttered obscenities about Heavenly eating methods that would be the death of him. Castiel's next face also brought a string of eye twitches, as it contorted into a little 'o' and a soft mewling sound escaped his soft pink lips. He glowered and shifted in his seat. Castiel's eyes shone brightly and he smiled brilliantly up at Sam, who looked taken back by the sudden enthusiasm. "This is a most delicious breakfast you have concocted."
"Don't ever say anything with the work cock in it again," Dean whispered under his breath, mainly to himself as he scratched an invisible itch on the tip of his nose and looked over at the plain, dull, very boring and not arousing wallpaper next to him. He was chewing his food rapidly, no longer savoring the flavor. He figured he hadn't been laid in over two months. It was his hormones getting to him. And it was not going well down in his PJ bottoms at that moment. His eyes flickered back to the brunette who was tilting his head at Dean, and staring idly. That was it. Standing up from his seat he smiled and excused himself. "I need to go get dressed and showered."
"You didn't even finish your breakfast Dean." Most unusual, Sam observed. Dean always finished his food. The man had a bottomless pit for God's sake! He watched as the older Winchester flipped him the bird and sped out of the room, before he turned his head and frowned a little at the brunette angel innocently taking dainty bites of his breakfast. "Are you going to shower and change or is that too human for you as well?"
Castiel swallowed and pursed his lips. "I suppose since I am human for now I could indulge in humanly activities, yes."
Sam raised his brows and shook his head. "Wow. Okay. Well... You can go bother Dean with the shower thing and I'll clean up in here."
Castiel acknowledged this order with a nod and quickly stuffed the rest of his hash brown into his mouth before he stood to his feet unsteadily and made his way back for the hallway. Fumbling with the doorknob as he found the end of the hall he finally grasped it firmly and gave it a good twist and shove. And when he pushed the door open and looked up his eyes widened slightly. A fire burned through his veins that from the rose colored hue of his cheeks to the tips of his curling toes and to his groin. Throat suddenly parched and dry he swallowed a shallow gulp of air, Adam's apple bobbing as he stared back at the deer caught in headlights green that were as frozen as ice cubes in an ice tray.
"There used to be such a thing as knocking, was there not?"
To put it bluntly he was quite naked. Beyond naked really. The contours of his beautifully sculpted milky peach chest were lined with muscle as smooth as silk. The curve of his ass was tight and perfectly round. He was the caricature of perfection. Every little scar and bump and bruise only defined him further to the core of his shining soul. Physically as splendid to look at as he was spiritually. Castiel found his conscious once again and smiled at Dean, briefly skirting glances any lower than necessary. "I apologize. I did not realize you would be... in this kind of state... when I entered."
"Have you gotten a good view?" Castiel could feel the flush of Dean's cheeks, like tingles under his skin that felt of pins and needles pricking into him and making his hairs rise attentively. Shyly gathering up his clothes Dean scratched the back of his head and gestured for the angel to close the door, which he did oblige too, leaving them standing awkwardly before each other. "Poor choice of words by the way."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing." Dean pursed his lips and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "What are you doing in here now?"
He had almost forgotten the grand purpose of going in there in the first place. Castiel shrugged his shoulders and glanced about the messy little room. Scattered bits of clothes here and there. Soda cans decorating the tops of window sills and - was that mold growing off the side of a coke can? The angel bit his lip as his eyes widened and turned back onto the brunette who had been watching with some amusement.
"Like my collection?" He laughed at the angel's pursed lips. "I was planning on cleaning sometime soon."
"I see." Castiel commented slowly, gliding his eyes over the pair of boxers that seemed to be sewn into the carpet. Were there such thing as boxer brief plants? They looked like they'd bloomed right out of the wood floors that sat beneath the rug. His eyes didn't leave them even as he spoke to Dean. "Sam suggested I take a... shower? But I do not know where this shower is, how to use it, what it is, or what I do with it? He said to bother you about it."
Dean gave a little groan, rubbed his chin and frowned very deeply at Cas. "What am I your dad now?"
"You are most definitely not my Father." Castiel's eyes went quite dark and serious with this comment, voice as deep and rocky as gravel scooped up into a bag and ground together. He narrowed his deep blue eyes on Dean who coughed and slowly backed away toward the bathroom door. "I did not ask for your help. I will do it myself if I have to. I'm sure this showering thing could not be that difficult to comprehend."
"Well I have to do this showering thing right now. And I am not going to sit there and hold your hand or help you sponge yourself." He briefly remembered Castiel's naked body sliding up against him and shuttered at the memory. His eye twitched a bit. "Not again. Not ever again..."
"Well then perhaps I could simply stand by and observe you to learn." How was this man speaking so calmly and seriously about something that was a complete joke? A bark of laughter escaped Dean's lips. He chuckled lightly under his breath, a low rumble that slowly died down with the unwavering expression in Castiel's eyes. His nostrils flared and his lips cringed up in utter mortification.
"You aren't kidding are you?" Dean quivered and wobbled on his feet. A surge of embarrassment and anger quelled inside of his stomach and burned at his veins. "Dude, that is not going to happen. I'm not going to stand there and have you watch me scrub my ball sacks or any other body part for that matter. No way. Not going to happen. Fuckin' creepy ass shit."
"Dean, this is not a matter you can question. It is very important for me to learn human behaviors so I can fit in during my stay on Earth."
"Jesus you make it sound like you're going to drown in there!" Dean gave a loud guttural groan and pinched at his cheeks to make sure this wasn't some horrible nightmare-ish dream he was stuck in.
"That's blasphem-."
"I don't care!" He snapped bitterly and for a very brief moment, yet what seemed like a millennia, they stared intently at each other. It is when Dean finally realized by the look in the other man's eyes that this was not a joke. He was serious. And Dean gave a defeated sigh, rubbed his eyes tiredly and with exasperation shook his head. "Fine. Come on. You get one god damn side of the bathtub and I get the other. The bubbles are the barrier. I swear if I feel even a touch of your hand or anything else creepy (which you can only imagine what else is creepy and perverted) I will give you a bigger concussion than you already have!"
He figured what the hell. He'd already seen the guy naked. Cas had already seen him naked. What real difference was there in being naked together in water? It was like High School all over again... or firemen. No touching would be involved of course. Dean could live with awkward. Castiel smiled curtly and took his first step toward Dean. It will be fine. He was half way there now. Fine.... He stopped in front of Dean with an expectant look in his cerulean orbs. Shit. "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"
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Cerulean orbs screamed rape loud and clear. Bare shoulders shivering naked and glistening with moist droplets of water that had been splashed in the fight. There was only a small remnant of guilt shivering through Dean's body as he stared back at panicky blue eyes.
"You have to take your clothes off Cas..."
Dean watched blue eyes go wide. A raised brow and a worried lip. Castiel's nostrils flared and he glanced up from the bathtub he had been staring at for more than three minutes. "Naked?"
Point the obvious out, right. That's what he should do. It's not like Dean had just said that or anything. Rolled green eyes cast themselves back upon the figure that had seemed to shrink in the span of time he'd looked away. "Yeah. Naked. Clothes off. Bare skin. You know?"
"I do not wish to do that..." Those deep, dark eyes skimmed over the tub with fascination and stopped on the drain. " What is this place?"
He wanted to shoot himself. Call it a day. Pretend he'd never rescued a naked man from the clutches of evil. "Fuck, Cas. Come on, are you kidding me? You turn the spicket on, and the water comes out. You let it fill up. You put some god damn bubble soap in there. You step in, wash your hair with shampoo, clean yourself with that little yellow bar there and call it a day."
He left out that sometimes you used the shower to have a little fun in. The guy didn't need to know that. Setting his clothes down onto the sink counter Dean turned back around to face the angel, who was shaking his head in some kind of internal argument. He must have felt Dean's gaze because his eyes slowly turned to the corners, a sideways glance Dean thought. He raised his hands in the air to show off his nudity like they didn't already know he was.
"It's not like you have anything to hide. I've already seen you."
"I do not wish to be naked in this small space with you. It is a sin."
"It's a sin to bathe with another man? You didn't get in there with your brother when you were five?" He gave a shrug. "You're missing out man."
Of course he was being sarcastic. He didn't want to get in there either. But they were already there, and he was already naked. Make use of what you have. When in Rome do as the Romans. Dean reached out and took hold of the bottom hem of Castiel's night shirt, giving it a small tug. This small tug resulted in a violent jerk on Castiel's part. I mean the type of jerk that sent men tumbling. Which is why Dean's body toppled forward into Castiel's, and Castiel with this new weight lost his balance, slipped, and they both tumbled back into the dark, deep pit behind them.
This is where they found them selves staring back and forth at each other. Castiel had literally kung-fu kicked Dean away once he gained vision again and caught his breath. The water was slowly licking closer to the brim. Castiel was still wearing Dean's pajamas, awkwardly spread limbs backed against the end of the tub.
"What am I going to do with you?" Dean shook his head as he leaned closer to the man, who trembled and cowered away from his touch. "Come on stop being a baby. You're the one who has personal space issues."
He briefly skimmed the wet cloth of the shirt clinging to his wet skin, and slowly worked his hand under to lift it over his head. Delicate work, he presumed his job like an expert. An expert in what you ask? What do you think? It took a moment but he coaxed Castiel to raise his arms and grant him permission to take the shirt off. This left pajama bottoms and boxers. His fingers grabbed hold of pants lines and gently worked them down slender thighs.
"Dean. This is making me uncomfortable."
"I'm glad you can be so blunt." Dean mumbled indignantly under his breath, concentrating as the cloth got caught on the bend of his knee. A minute later Castiel realized the problem and straightened out his legs. The pants came off. Naked flesh was exposed. Dean gave a little smile of accomplishment and shook his head as he leaned back into his corner of the tub. "How hard was that?"
Castiel stared back at him bug eyed and with lips tightly clenched shut in a little line upon his face. "I do not like bathing."
A little sigh escaped Dean's lips. "Shut up, Cas."