Re: 5.04-verse, dean/future!cas 1/3janie_tangerineJune 2 2010, 00:54:47 UTC
This totally blew out of proportions. Sorry. I should know better than taking prompts saying future!Cas.
Dean has this idea that he might have sort of involuntarily crashed Cas' orgy, without technically crushing it. Which doesn't make sense, told like this, but well, apparently the dick aka himself thinks that it'd be wiser to wait another day before going after Lucifer (he doesn't want to mention Sam in this whole mess), and so he needed a place to sleep. And he wasn't going to bunk with himself because the idea of being around himself that long (or this version of himself) makes homicidal instincts surface, and he doesn't really want to end up killing himself. Or... whatever. He can't get headaches over this.
So Cas had shrugged and said he could use his bed, it's not like he uses it much for sleeping anyway, and Dean had said yes because damn, fucked up as he is, he'd rather have Cas for a roommate than the dick he has become. He doesn't remember until later that when he crashed into Cas' cabin before he was planning said orgy, but when the thought occurs he's already lying on the bed and Cas is already smoking something while sitting cross-legged on the ground. Dean doesn't want to know what it is that Cas is smoking exactly.
"Hey, didn't you..." he starts, then clears his throat before speaking again. "I just remembered that you had... you know. The girls today? Shouldn't you..."
Cas has his shoulders turned towards him so Dean can't see his face, but the half-laugh that Cas lets out a second after is so wrong that for a second Dean feels sick.
"Oh, don't worry. It's not like it matters."
And it's not like it'd be the first time I fuck up with your plans, Dean thinks, but doesn't say. And so he pretends he's satisfied with the answer, he turns on his side and well, fuck, he's goddamn tired and he spent last night walking and Cas' bed is quite comfortable all things considered, and it's the last thing going through his head before he drifts off.
--
He wakes up with an arm thrown around his waist.
Or better, with an arm crushing his waist rather than just lying on his side. Said arm is pressing him back and whoever is doing his is also breathing fast and uneven; Dean looks down, still half dizzy from sleep, and sees long fingers which he recognizes even too well (Jimmy's hand, Cas' hand, and how could he forget it after it was on his mouth that time in the green room?) clutching his shirt so hard that the knuckles are white. Another hand is closed on the shoulder opposite Dean's hip and while it isn't clutching as hard, its grip is firm.
Dean doesn't know what he should do with this, if he should just go back to sleep and ignore everything and let Cas have it or actually show Cas that he's awake... but then? It doesn't feel bad, to be entirely honest, and when Dean thinks about why Cas would do this he has to bite his tongue in order not to let out an insult directed to himself-future-version. So he settles on just ignoring it and going back to sleep, but as he decides it his traitorous mouth decides to speak even if he hadn't planned on that.
"Cas...?" he mouths, and suddenly the arm is gone.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he hears from behind, along with a sound of rustling, and well, thankfully Dean has excellent reflexes and he's quick enough to turn on his side and grab Cas' wrist before Cas can make a run for the door, which was probably what he had in mind.
"Sorry," Cas says looking down at the quilt on the bed while not meeting Dean's eyes and when he realizes that he isn't going anywhere until Dean decides otherwise, "you weren't... you weren't really supposed to wake up."
He sounds almost ashamed, his hair falling down and covering his eyes, and Dean doesn't miss the way his free hand shakes just slightly.
"It's... I mean, it's fine," Dean blurts trying not to make it sound as lame as it is. "Is there... is there a reason why..."
"It's... it's you," Cas says, his voice so low that Dean can barely hear it, "I figured that this was the last chance I had. It's that... you, no, he doesn't give a damn, and I just... fuck, just let me go and let's forget about this, you don't have to..."
Dean has this idea that he might have sort of involuntarily crashed Cas' orgy, without technically crushing it. Which doesn't make sense, told like this, but well, apparently the dick aka himself thinks that it'd be wiser to wait another day before going after Lucifer (he doesn't want to mention Sam in this whole mess), and so he needed a place to sleep. And he wasn't going to bunk with himself because the idea of being around himself that long (or this version of himself) makes homicidal instincts surface, and he doesn't really want to end up killing himself. Or... whatever. He can't get headaches over this.
So Cas had shrugged and said he could use his bed, it's not like he uses it much for sleeping anyway, and Dean had said yes because damn, fucked up as he is, he'd rather have Cas for a roommate than the dick he has become. He doesn't remember until later that when he crashed into Cas' cabin before he was planning said orgy, but when the thought occurs he's already lying on the bed and Cas is already smoking something while sitting cross-legged on the ground. Dean doesn't want to know what it is that Cas is smoking exactly.
"Hey, didn't you..." he starts, then clears his throat before speaking again. "I just remembered that you had... you know. The girls today? Shouldn't you..."
Cas has his shoulders turned towards him so Dean can't see his face, but the half-laugh that Cas lets out a second after is so wrong that for a second Dean feels sick.
"Oh, don't worry. It's not like it matters."
And it's not like it'd be the first time I fuck up with your plans, Dean thinks, but doesn't say. And so he pretends he's satisfied with the answer, he turns on his side and well, fuck, he's goddamn tired and he spent last night walking and Cas' bed is quite comfortable all things considered, and it's the last thing going through his head before he drifts off.
--
He wakes up with an arm thrown around his waist.
Or better, with an arm crushing his waist rather than just lying on his side. Said arm is pressing him back and whoever is doing his is also breathing fast and uneven; Dean looks down, still half dizzy from sleep, and sees long fingers which he recognizes even too well (Jimmy's hand, Cas' hand, and how could he forget it after it was on his mouth that time in the green room?) clutching his shirt so hard that the knuckles are white. Another hand is closed on the shoulder opposite Dean's hip and while it isn't clutching as hard, its grip is firm.
Dean doesn't know what he should do with this, if he should just go back to sleep and ignore everything and let Cas have it or actually show Cas that he's awake... but then? It doesn't feel bad, to be entirely honest, and when Dean thinks about why Cas would do this he has to bite his tongue in order not to let out an insult directed to himself-future-version. So he settles on just ignoring it and going back to sleep, but as he decides it his traitorous mouth decides to speak even if he hadn't planned on that.
"Cas...?" he mouths, and suddenly the arm is gone.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he hears from behind, along with a sound of rustling, and well, thankfully Dean has excellent reflexes and he's quick enough to turn on his side and grab Cas' wrist before Cas can make a run for the door, which was probably what he had in mind.
"Sorry," Cas says looking down at the quilt on the bed while not meeting Dean's eyes and when he realizes that he isn't going anywhere until Dean decides otherwise, "you weren't... you weren't really supposed to wake up."
He sounds almost ashamed, his hair falling down and covering his eyes, and Dean doesn't miss the way his free hand shakes just slightly.
"It's... I mean, it's fine," Dean blurts trying not to make it sound as lame as it is. "Is there... is there a reason why..."
"It's... it's you," Cas says, his voice so low that Dean can barely hear it, "I figured that this was the last chance I had. It's that... you, no, he doesn't give a damn, and I just... fuck, just let me go and let's forget about this, you don't have to..."
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