Re: Dean/Castiel, wedding (2/4)dachinchillaJune 2 2010, 00:02:14 UTC
“I suppose,” Cas replies, which is annoyingly vague. He carefully rolls off Dean to lie on his back, breathing deeply with his eyes shut. Dean’s fluent in the many non-expressions of Cas’ face, but just when he’s about to figure this one out, Cas is up and getting his clothes. “There is some business I must attend to in Heaven. I will be back in a few days.”
“Right.” Dean watches as Cas pulls his clothes on (a ritual that’s technically unnecessary but established early on as necessary for Dean, connoisseur of the reverse striptease), and there’s something about the way Cas is avoiding his eyes that makes Dean reach out and grab his arm. “Cas.”
Cas looks at him, and for the briefest moment it’s like a goddamn timewarp, those blue eyes as incomprehensible as a stranger’s until Cas remembers himself and his expression softens. “I promise I will not be gone more than week.”
Dean snorts. “Hey, it’s not like I’m needy, or anything-” The words are cut off when Cas kisses him.
This is familiar, the taste and smell of Cas that Dean’s sampled countless times in every possible permuation. Dean tries to push back but Cas keeps the kiss gentle, mouth slick and soft against his own and his hands frame Dean’s face with the lightest of touches. When Cas pulls back, it’s only to let Dean breathe before coming in again for a few gentle pecks and a careful tug of his lower lip.
“I’ll say it again,” Dean says, close enough that he can still brush Cas’ nose with his own, “You’ve got one hell of a commute.”
“You may say it as many times as you like, as it continues to be true,” Cas replies. His gaze is warm, fingers lingering a moment longer on Dean’s cheek before the whole package completely disappears on said commute.
It’s strange. A logical part of Dean feels that every time Cas leaves like this it should feel more and more like a goodbye, but in fact, it’s the opposite that’s true. Sure, the first time he’d gone off to play with Heavenly red tape it’d felt like the end of an era (plus there was the whole thing about Sam’s temporary descent into Hell), but Cas came back. And he kept on coming back every step Dean made trying to find a new beat to dance to in this post-Apocalyptic world.
There are few things Dean can count on, and one of them is the fact that Cas will always come back. Dean doesn’t care if this means he’s gone soft, because he sure as hell can afford to believe in this. He can afford to trust Cas to do this, so he does.
Yet, for the first time in months, something in Dean feels oddly abandoned in the now-empty room.
It’s a couple of days later (after Sam’s calmed down and Bobby’s started on his road trip to yell at him in person) when it finally hits Dean.
Cas’ answer to Ben was right. Marriage, or married life, has never even skirted in the same galaxy of possible things when it comes to Dean. It’s not for people like them (like him) who live day-to-day and know better than to plan for anything further than next week. Some hunters manage it but Dean doubts that any of them had an angel of the friggin’ Lord in the equation. Marriage makes no sense in this picture. They don’t need it.
Except, when Ben had brought it up, Cas hadn’t even flinched. Cas hadn’t panicked, hadn’t been embarrassed, hadn’t even looked at Dean to check whatever his reaction was. He’d merely given his answer to Ben, and it was the perfect answer - as if he had it ready.
As if he’d already thought about it.
That realization makes Dean reel so hard he misses the entirety of Sam’s next diatribe, forcing him to repeat his declaration that he’ll be moving out of the house after the wedding, to which Dean can only nod.
This makes Sam really look at him, finally. “You okay, dude?”
“Yeah, fine,” Dean answers quickly. “Keep going, I’m listening.”
“No, you’re not,” Sam says, though he’s still grinning, “But that’s a pretty good imitation.”
Re: Dean/Castiel, wedding (3/4)dachinchillaJune 2 2010, 00:06:36 UTC
“Shut up, bitch, it’s the thought that counts.” Dean could feel bad that he isn’t instantly memorizing everything Sam’s saying about the autumn wedding and how they’re going to keep it simple and whatever, because Cas has been thinking hard enough about marriage that he’d come to the correct conclusion on Dean’s opinion of it. Not that Cas had given any hint about these thoughts, because that would’ve just been weird.
Weirder still is how now Dean can’t stop thinking about it.
Cas is important. He is important to Cas. They’ve been drawn to each other even before they’d started sleeping together, like tectonic plates of inevitability (which makes earthquakes analogous to the awesome sex they keep having which - heh) and now they just… are. They’ve been through enough shit together to believe in each other, in breath and bone and blood, and that doesn’t need some pretty words or a fancy ceremony to make it real.
“We’re practically married already!” Dean blurts out.
Sam pauses mid-rant, blinking a few times. “What are you - oh. You and Cas.” He pretends to think about it. “Yeah, that’s about right.”
“Shit,” is all Dean can say.
“Look, you’re my brother, and I love you,” Sam says, putting a careful hand on Dean’s shoulder, “But can we please get back to this being about me, and not about the fact that you’ve been in a common law marriage for almost a year without realizing it? Thanks.”
“He’s noticed.” Dean has to sit down, head dizzy. “If you noticed, he’s noticed. He notices shit, because he’s Cas, that’s what he does. Fuck, I’m fucked.”
Sam sighs. “Does it change anything?” At Dean’s confused look, Sam clarifies, “This epiphany you’re having right now - does it change anything between you and Cas?”
“He’s thought about marriage, Sam,” Dean whines.
“And he knows you well enough not to bring it up,” Sam points out. “Because he’s Cas, and that’s what he does.”
Funnily enough, that doesn’t make Dean feel any better.
Sam sees the look on his face and groans. “It’s useless talking to you like this. I’m going to find Alice.”
“You do that,” Dean mutters.
The good thing about Cas being away is that it gives Dean time to think. The bad thing about Cas being away is that it gives Dean time to think. He really has no choice but to do exactly that, running the past few years over and over in his head as he tries to figure out when exactly Cas got under his skin so damn deep that he can think about this without immediately breaking into hives.
The gist of it is: Cas doesn’t ask for much. Oh, sure, he can be a demanding bastard, but it’s always on behalf of something he believes greater than himself, i.e. Sam, humanity, God, the Apocalypse, Heaven, etc. It’s so rare that Cas asks anything for himself that Dean becomes an asshole and forgets that Cas is more than entitled to it.
By the time Cas comes back (four and a half days, promise kept), Dean is as ready as he’ll ever be, which is to say, not much at all, so he distracts himself by kissing the high holy hell out of Cas. It actually shocks Cas, who knocks his head against the wall before getting into the program and kissing the hell back, because they’re apparently far enough down this road together that urgent hormonal sex is has spread out enough among all the other types of sex they’ve been trying out.
A part of Dean’s mind thinks of Cas saying in his low voice: Honey, I’m home, which makes him laugh inappropriately.
Cas’ eyes narrow a little, his equivalent of a playful tease. “Something funny, Dean?”
“Yeah, actually,” Dean admits. “Although it’d probably be less funny if I say it out loud, so I won’t.”
Cas doesn’t push, letting it go with a quick nod before his hands come up and he starts undoing his tie and shirt. Dean follows in kind with his own clothes but keeps his eyes on Cas’ face, the way his eyes are crinkled like he’s trying not to smile, the way he doesn’t fumble at all with the buttons and folds his shirt up neatly, the way this is such a goddamn routine by now it shouldn’t be sexy but still somehow is.
As soon as Cas has pushed his pants off, Dean grabs his wrist and pulls, the both of them falling on to the bed.
Re: Dean/Castiel, wedding (4/5) oopsdachinchillaJune 2 2010, 00:28:01 UTC
Dean rolls them so that he’s on top, and now Cas is outright smiling, the sight of it so gorgeous that he almost forgets what he’d meant to say.
“Come on, Dean,” Cas growls, shifting his hips up, “Do not be a tease.”
Dean puts a hand on Cas’ chest. It isn’t enough pressure to actually hold him down, but just enough that Cas knows that staying down is what Dean wants right now. He takes a deep breath. “Cas, do you want to get married?”
Cas is shocked, eyes flown wide for two seconds before they suddenly scrunch up and he averts his face like he knows Dean’ll pluck the answer right out from it. This in itself is an answer of its own, so Dean grabs at Cas’ chin, forcing him to look at him.
“It-” Cas’ eyes are still closed, “-makes you uncomfortable-”
“But what do you want?” Dean presses. “Cas, it’s okay to want things, remember? I’m a big boy, I can take-”
“Yes, I want to marry you,” Cas snaps. That’s not the way it’s supposed to go, so Dean pulls back, allowing Cas to sit up and run a frustrated hand over his face. Cas sounds way too angry when he says, “I know it makes no sense, I know it’s unnecessary for what we already have.”
Dean waits, but Cas seems to want to leave it that. Luckily, Dean already knows the why, so he leans forward, curving his hands around the tense line of Cas’ shoulders and squeezing gently. “It’s unnecessary, but you want it anyway.”
“I would never force you,” Cas says sharply. “I would never…”
“God, Cas, just sit listen, will you?” Dean feels jittery all over, terrified and exhilarated and on the verge of throwing up, so it’s probably a good thing that Cas isn’t looking at him right now because he might never have the guts to do this otherwise. “What if I want it, too? Hey, you can even scratch the what if.”
Cas goes very, very still. His eyebrows twitch, like he cannot allow himself to understand what Dean just said. “Pardon?”
Dean grimaces. “You’re seriously going to make me repeat myself?”
Cas finally looks at Dean, but there’s a wariness in his gaze that harks back to when they barely understood each other and couldn’t talk without either or both walking away from the conversation pissed off. Dean empathetically does not like this look, because they got over that, they’re here now, and Cas should know better than to look at him like he’s afraid Dean’s going to take it back and say, “Just kidding!”
So Dean, never one for words, presses his mouth to Cas’ by way of making himself clear. He ignores the lack of response to slot their lips together in perfect familiarity, licking in deep until Cas gasps like it’s the first time they’ve tasted to each other.
It’s not long at all before Cas melts into a huge piece of putty angel that Dean can easily push back down on to the bed. They kiss and breathe and kiss, Cas making soft happy noises that can go on forever as far as Dean’s concerned, arousal nothing more than a gentle background hum that doesn’t feel important right now.
Dean pulls his mouth away to breathe, but he doesn’t go far, trailing lips along Cas’ cheek.
“There are…” Cas sighs when Dean bites gently at his jaw. “…no rites for it. For us. For what I am, and what you are.”
Re: Dean/Castiel, wedding (5/5)dachinchillaJune 2 2010, 00:28:22 UTC
Dean pulls back to study Cas’ face. He looks hopeful now, eyes bright with nervous anticipation just like they’d been the first time they’d kissed and opened up this whole new world for them. Whatever fears Dean had had feel stupid and inconsequential with the way Cas is smiling at him now.
“Words are important to you guys, right?” Dean asks.
Cas nods.
After taking a deep breath, Dean smiles and says, “Yes.”
Apparently, that’s enough, because the world moves. Just because it’s a fucking cliché doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen; that’s the only way Dean can think of to describe how reality suddenly shifts and he’s looking at Cas - the real Cas, pale grey eyes on an androgynous face that would be completely alien if Dean weren’t already intimately acquainted with that expression of exhilarated pleasure - and he's feeling Cas - or something unearthly and powerful humming all the way through Dean’s body like Cas is pressing into him for kiss that’s deeper than anything Dean’s ever known - before the rush slowly fades away and it's just the two of them, lying in bed, staring at each other.
“Wow,” Cas says.
“Yeah.” Dean wonders if he looks half as shelf-shocked as Cas. “Huh.”
“There is no precedent for this,” Cas says. “But I need to... I feel like I have to...”
Dean rolls his eyes. “I think you can tell me anything at this point.”
“I need to fly,” Cas says firmly. “In celebration. It’s too… I feel like I cannot be contained.”
“Okay.” Dean nods, certain of this one thing. “Take me with you.”
Re: Dean/Castiel, wedding (5/5)janie_tangerineJune 2 2010, 11:07:17 UTC
kjdsadjsadhjakshdjksad *keymashes* you turned me into a melting puddle of squee or something. This was just so precious, I loved it so much. And God, I loved that there was no ritual and that all it took was saying yes, AWWWWWW *melts again* This was so good and so perfectly schmoopy, A+++++++. ;)
Re: Dean/Castiel, wedding (5/5)dachinchillaJune 3 2010, 13:17:27 UTC
Yay, thank you! I think having an elaborate obscure ritual would be a fascinating way to go about it, too, but that'd need more space than a commenfic.
“Right.” Dean watches as Cas pulls his clothes on (a ritual that’s technically unnecessary but established early on as necessary for Dean, connoisseur of the reverse striptease), and there’s something about the way Cas is avoiding his eyes that makes Dean reach out and grab his arm. “Cas.”
Cas looks at him, and for the briefest moment it’s like a goddamn timewarp, those blue eyes as incomprehensible as a stranger’s until Cas remembers himself and his expression softens. “I promise I will not be gone more than week.”
Dean snorts. “Hey, it’s not like I’m needy, or anything-” The words are cut off when Cas kisses him.
This is familiar, the taste and smell of Cas that Dean’s sampled countless times in every possible permuation. Dean tries to push back but Cas keeps the kiss gentle, mouth slick and soft against his own and his hands frame Dean’s face with the lightest of touches. When Cas pulls back, it’s only to let Dean breathe before coming in again for a few gentle pecks and a careful tug of his lower lip.
“I’ll say it again,” Dean says, close enough that he can still brush Cas’ nose with his own, “You’ve got one hell of a commute.”
“You may say it as many times as you like, as it continues to be true,” Cas replies. His gaze is warm, fingers lingering a moment longer on Dean’s cheek before the whole package completely disappears on said commute.
It’s strange. A logical part of Dean feels that every time Cas leaves like this it should feel more and more like a goodbye, but in fact, it’s the opposite that’s true. Sure, the first time he’d gone off to play with Heavenly red tape it’d felt like the end of an era (plus there was the whole thing about Sam’s temporary descent into Hell), but Cas came back. And he kept on coming back every step Dean made trying to find a new beat to dance to in this post-Apocalyptic world.
There are few things Dean can count on, and one of them is the fact that Cas will always come back. Dean doesn’t care if this means he’s gone soft, because he sure as hell can afford to believe in this. He can afford to trust Cas to do this, so he does.
Yet, for the first time in months, something in Dean feels oddly abandoned in the now-empty room.
It’s a couple of days later (after Sam’s calmed down and Bobby’s started on his road trip to yell at him in person) when it finally hits Dean.
Cas’ answer to Ben was right. Marriage, or married life, has never even skirted in the same galaxy of possible things when it comes to Dean. It’s not for people like them (like him) who live day-to-day and know better than to plan for anything further than next week. Some hunters manage it but Dean doubts that any of them had an angel of the friggin’ Lord in the equation. Marriage makes no sense in this picture. They don’t need it.
Except, when Ben had brought it up, Cas hadn’t even flinched. Cas hadn’t panicked, hadn’t been embarrassed, hadn’t even looked at Dean to check whatever his reaction was. He’d merely given his answer to Ben, and it was the perfect answer - as if he had it ready.
As if he’d already thought about it.
That realization makes Dean reel so hard he misses the entirety of Sam’s next diatribe, forcing him to repeat his declaration that he’ll be moving out of the house after the wedding, to which Dean can only nod.
This makes Sam really look at him, finally. “You okay, dude?”
“Yeah, fine,” Dean answers quickly. “Keep going, I’m listening.”
“No, you’re not,” Sam says, though he’s still grinning, “But that’s a pretty good imitation.”
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Weirder still is how now Dean can’t stop thinking about it.
Cas is important. He is important to Cas. They’ve been drawn to each other even before they’d started sleeping together, like tectonic plates of inevitability (which makes earthquakes analogous to the awesome sex they keep having which - heh) and now they just… are. They’ve been through enough shit together to believe in each other, in breath and bone and blood, and that doesn’t need some pretty words or a fancy ceremony to make it real.
“We’re practically married already!” Dean blurts out.
Sam pauses mid-rant, blinking a few times. “What are you - oh. You and Cas.” He pretends to think about it. “Yeah, that’s about right.”
“Shit,” is all Dean can say.
“Look, you’re my brother, and I love you,” Sam says, putting a careful hand on Dean’s shoulder, “But can we please get back to this being about me, and not about the fact that you’ve been in a common law marriage for almost a year without realizing it? Thanks.”
“He’s noticed.” Dean has to sit down, head dizzy. “If you noticed, he’s noticed. He notices shit, because he’s Cas, that’s what he does. Fuck, I’m fucked.”
Sam sighs. “Does it change anything?” At Dean’s confused look, Sam clarifies, “This epiphany you’re having right now - does it change anything between you and Cas?”
“He’s thought about marriage, Sam,” Dean whines.
“And he knows you well enough not to bring it up,” Sam points out. “Because he’s Cas, and that’s what he does.”
Funnily enough, that doesn’t make Dean feel any better.
Sam sees the look on his face and groans. “It’s useless talking to you like this. I’m going to find Alice.”
“You do that,” Dean mutters.
The good thing about Cas being away is that it gives Dean time to think. The bad thing about Cas being away is that it gives Dean time to think. He really has no choice but to do exactly that, running the past few years over and over in his head as he tries to figure out when exactly Cas got under his skin so damn deep that he can think about this without immediately breaking into hives.
The gist of it is: Cas doesn’t ask for much. Oh, sure, he can be a demanding bastard, but it’s always on behalf of something he believes greater than himself, i.e. Sam, humanity, God, the Apocalypse, Heaven, etc. It’s so rare that Cas asks anything for himself that Dean becomes an asshole and forgets that Cas is more than entitled to it.
By the time Cas comes back (four and a half days, promise kept), Dean is as ready as he’ll ever be, which is to say, not much at all, so he distracts himself by kissing the high holy hell out of Cas. It actually shocks Cas, who knocks his head against the wall before getting into the program and kissing the hell back, because they’re apparently far enough down this road together that urgent hormonal sex is has spread out enough among all the other types of sex they’ve been trying out.
A part of Dean’s mind thinks of Cas saying in his low voice: Honey, I’m home, which makes him laugh inappropriately.
Cas’ eyes narrow a little, his equivalent of a playful tease. “Something funny, Dean?”
“Yeah, actually,” Dean admits. “Although it’d probably be less funny if I say it out loud, so I won’t.”
Cas doesn’t push, letting it go with a quick nod before his hands come up and he starts undoing his tie and shirt. Dean follows in kind with his own clothes but keeps his eyes on Cas’ face, the way his eyes are crinkled like he’s trying not to smile, the way he doesn’t fumble at all with the buttons and folds his shirt up neatly, the way this is such a goddamn routine by now it shouldn’t be sexy but still somehow is.
As soon as Cas has pushed his pants off, Dean grabs his wrist and pulls, the both of them falling on to the bed.
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“Come on, Dean,” Cas growls, shifting his hips up, “Do not be a tease.”
Dean puts a hand on Cas’ chest. It isn’t enough pressure to actually hold him down, but just enough that Cas knows that staying down is what Dean wants right now. He takes a deep breath. “Cas, do you want to get married?”
Cas is shocked, eyes flown wide for two seconds before they suddenly scrunch up and he averts his face like he knows Dean’ll pluck the answer right out from it. This in itself is an answer of its own, so Dean grabs at Cas’ chin, forcing him to look at him.
“It-” Cas’ eyes are still closed, “-makes you uncomfortable-”
“But what do you want?” Dean presses. “Cas, it’s okay to want things, remember? I’m a big boy, I can take-”
“Yes, I want to marry you,” Cas snaps. That’s not the way it’s supposed to go, so Dean pulls back, allowing Cas to sit up and run a frustrated hand over his face. Cas sounds way too angry when he says, “I know it makes no sense, I know it’s unnecessary for what we already have.”
Dean waits, but Cas seems to want to leave it that. Luckily, Dean already knows the why, so he leans forward, curving his hands around the tense line of Cas’ shoulders and squeezing gently. “It’s unnecessary, but you want it anyway.”
“I would never force you,” Cas says sharply. “I would never…”
“God, Cas, just sit listen, will you?” Dean feels jittery all over, terrified and exhilarated and on the verge of throwing up, so it’s probably a good thing that Cas isn’t looking at him right now because he might never have the guts to do this otherwise. “What if I want it, too? Hey, you can even scratch the what if.”
Cas goes very, very still. His eyebrows twitch, like he cannot allow himself to understand what Dean just said. “Pardon?”
Dean grimaces. “You’re seriously going to make me repeat myself?”
Cas finally looks at Dean, but there’s a wariness in his gaze that harks back to when they barely understood each other and couldn’t talk without either or both walking away from the conversation pissed off. Dean empathetically does not like this look, because they got over that, they’re here now, and Cas should know better than to look at him like he’s afraid Dean’s going to take it back and say, “Just kidding!”
So Dean, never one for words, presses his mouth to Cas’ by way of making himself clear. He ignores the lack of response to slot their lips together in perfect familiarity, licking in deep until Cas gasps like it’s the first time they’ve tasted to each other.
It’s not long at all before Cas melts into a huge piece of putty angel that Dean can easily push back down on to the bed. They kiss and breathe and kiss, Cas making soft happy noises that can go on forever as far as Dean’s concerned, arousal nothing more than a gentle background hum that doesn’t feel important right now.
Dean pulls his mouth away to breathe, but he doesn’t go far, trailing lips along Cas’ cheek.
“There are…” Cas sighs when Dean bites gently at his jaw. “…no rites for it. For us. For what I am, and what you are.”
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“Words are important to you guys, right?” Dean asks.
Cas nods.
After taking a deep breath, Dean smiles and says, “Yes.”
Apparently, that’s enough, because the world moves. Just because it’s a fucking cliché doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen; that’s the only way Dean can think of to describe how reality suddenly shifts and he’s looking at Cas - the real Cas, pale grey eyes on an androgynous face that would be completely alien if Dean weren’t already intimately acquainted with that expression of exhilarated pleasure - and he's feeling Cas - or something unearthly and powerful humming all the way through Dean’s body like Cas is pressing into him for kiss that’s deeper than anything Dean’s ever known - before the rush slowly fades away and it's just the two of them, lying in bed, staring at each other.
“Wow,” Cas says.
“Yeah.” Dean wonders if he looks half as shelf-shocked as Cas. “Huh.”
“There is no precedent for this,” Cas says. “But I need to... I feel like I have to...”
Dean rolls his eyes. “I think you can tell me anything at this point.”
“I need to fly,” Cas says firmly. “In celebration. It’s too… I feel like I cannot be contained.”
“Okay.” Dean nods, certain of this one thing. “Take me with you.”
He does.
FINISSSSSSSS
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I'm the biggest puddle of goo ever. EVER, I TELL YOU.
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Thank you that was lovely.
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