Fic: SPN - Confessions - Complete
Title: Confessions
Author: ravengrimm
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Genre: Slash
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1854
Warnings: None really
Spoilers: Just basically S4 as I've not seen S5 yet :(
Summary: Castiel needs to tell Dean something, but he's worried his borrowed heart will be broken if he does
MERRY CHRISTMAS lilacwest !!!
I hope this story fills you with lots of warm fuzzies to keep you going over the cold months of winter.
I hope you like it :)
“I like you Dean,” Castiel mummers, the words escaping from his lips of their own volition, having been running through his mind on a constant loop for the past half hour. The past half hour spent standing idly in Dean’s motel room, while Dean reads about yet another grisly death the brothers will have to look into. Time Castiel has spent just thinking about Dean, about what he wants to say to him, what he wants to do to him…
Castiel casts his eyes down at that, at that lustful thought, and at those words accidentally spoken aloud, half expecting them not to have been heard, and half hoping. But Castiel apparently isn’t that lucky as Dean says, “You realise I don’t swing that way.” His voice breathy, riding out of his mouth on the tides of a yawn, and apparently Dean wasn’t paying much attention when he said it either as he stops reading sharply and turns to Castiel, saying, “Wait… what?”
Castiel closes his eyes and sighs. “It doesn’t matter, forget I said anything,” he says, and is a second away from leaving, when Dean stands abruptly, perhaps perceiving Castiel’s intentions, even though he gave him no indication.
“No, hang on a minute,” Dean says, facing Castiel with an expression he hasn’t seen grace Dean’s face before, an expression that gives Castiel even more of a reason to pause than Dean’s actual words seem to. “Where the hell did that come from all of a sudden?” Dean asks, his head to one side, and that inexplicable emotion fierce in his eyes, and tight in his lips as he studies Castiel.
“Really Dean, it doesn’t matter,” Castiel says bitterly, feeling the lie burn deep inside of him. It does matter, it matters a lot. Castiel sags, he really hadn’t thought past those four words that still linger on his tongue, branded there like the scar on Dean’s arm, the scar he left. He bites his lip, trying to conjure up an explanation that would satisfy Dean while at the same time, not giving anything away, not telling Dean what Castiel really wants him to know.
That he likes Dean. No, if he’s really honest with himself, it’s more than that, so much more that it’s actually painful. Painful to be around Dean and keep his feelings bottled up, painful that he can’t-
“Cas, come one. You can’t just say something like that and then pretend you didn’t,” Dean says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable talking about this, so why does he continue, why press the matter at his own expense.
Dean clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you like me or do you uh, like like me?” he asks, frowning and swallowing hard.
That was unexpected. Those words and that flash of something in Dean’s eyes before he turned them down and out of sight. There is something in the way he said it too, something that Castiel can’t quite put his finger on.
Castiel bites his lip, deciding to put a little thought into his answer, like he should have done before speaking in the first place, but then hadn’t that been the whole problem, that he’d been thinking too much? He groans silently to himself, trying to discern the difference between ‘like’ and ‘like like’ having not heard the term before. He kind of grasps the general idea behind it though, made easier by the tone of Dean’s voice and the way his eyes can’t seem to stay focused on Castiel’s for longer than a second before darting away again.
So the difference, he guesses, is perhaps if ‘like’ is equal to how much Dean likes sleeping and ‘like like’ is equal to how much Dean likes pie, or his Impala - which is really more like love - then Castiel is pretty sure he knows how many ‘likes’ are needed, and it’s not one, or even two.
However, he settles on a less complicated answer and just says, “I… uh, have strong feelings for you.”
But perhaps it wasn’t as uncomplicated as Castiel had thought, as Dean appears to choke on something before spitting out, “Dude I have strong feelings for my brother, doesn’t mean I wanna go make out with him or anything-” Dean cuts himself off with a desperate look on his face, and turns away sharply, seemingly completely unable to look Castiel in the eyes now.
‘Make out’? Castiel hadn’t expected that, he wouldn’t of put it in those exact words, though he badly craves that intimate contact with Dean.
To be able to kiss Dean… The desire to do so makes Castiel’s vessel’s heart ach beyond belief. But Dean doesn’t want that, that’s clear, has been clear for a good many years to anyone with eyes or ears. Dean likes women, lots of women, to even consider that he could feel for another man, an angel in a man’s body, is so ridiculous it’s unthinkable.
“Cas?”
“You’ve made your feelings clear, Dean, what I said is irrelevant now.”
Castiel has to stop this now, the longer he thinks about it the more it hurts. But he’ll always think about it, think about Dean, long after Dean has died Castiel will still think of him, unless he has died protecting the human that has stolen his heart. But even then…
Dean shakes his head. “My feelings clear? What about yours?” he snaps, taking a step closer, apparently finding the nerve to lock gazes with Castiel again. Why is he angry? Castiel doesn’t understand. He wishes he hadn’t said those unfortunate four words in the first place. His friendship with Dean, if you can call it friendship, has been tenuous at best, he doesn’t want to drive him away, or make Dean hate him.
Dean shifts his weight and folds his arms loosely across his chest, his expression softening along with his voice as he says, “Come on Cas, start making some sense here, okay.”
Castiel breathes out slowly through his lips before saying, “Dean, I…” I don’t want you to hate me. “I…” I want to be with you. “I…” love you.
“You… what?” Dean asks, his voice even softer than before, his arms relaxing and slipping down against his sides. He takes another step closer, leaving just under a meter between them, so close that Castiel could reach out and touch him, grasp a hold of Dean’s t-shirt and pull him flush against his body, wrap his arms around him in and never let go.
Castiel groans, his fists clenching, holding back the urge with more strength than he thought he possessed. “When I raised you from perdition, I branded your soul with my grace. The mark on your arm, the one my hand burnt into your skin is just the outward sign of this brand, but it goes deeper, much deeper.” Castiel can’t tell if what he’s saying is making sense to Dean, if he even begins to fathom the meaning buried beneath it.
Dean says nothing; just stands there watching Castiel, his expression strangely guarded, like he’s trying to hid something from Castiel, perhaps an utter lack of comprehension to what Castiel is saying.
“But that’s not all that happened,” Castiel continues regardless. “You were so full of emotion, so terrified, so thankful, that when I touched your soul, your soul… touched me. You must understand Dean, this isn’t supposed happen,” Castiel explains, shaking his head and looking away from Dean.
He wonders how much of this he will be allowed to tell Dean, or if he has already said too much. Even so Castiel can’t keep this hidden much longer. Every second he is with Dean; he longs to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him and tell Dean how he makes him feel…
“So what does that mean exactly?” Dean asks, tilting his head to catch Castiel’s attention, and drawing his gaze up again. And the warmth in Dean’s eyes, makes Castiel’s heart swim, his borrowed body suddenly warm all over. And he knows he must tell Dean. No matter what, he must find a way.
One way or another, he will make his feelings for Dean clear, and even if Castiel is dragged away from Dean to face destruction for his disobedience, he will still tell Dean, somehow…
But how do you let someone know that you love them, while at the same time trying desperately not to be rejected, or have your borrowed heart shattered into irreparable pieces?
“Because of you,” he starts, his voice cracking slightly as he still stares into Dean’s eyes, somehow maintaining the strength to do so. “Because of you, Dean, I feel,” he breaths, his gaze falling onto Dean lips as his tongue slips out to wet them, and a knot tightens around Castiel’s heart. He swallows hard, turning away from Dean as he realizes what he should do, but at the same time knowing that he really should not.
Castiel closes his eyes in the silence, his fists clenched at his sides and when he opens them again Dean is there, wide eyed and confused, and so Castiel…
Kisses him.
He cups his hands around Dean’s face and kisses the man he has inexplicably fallen in love with, the man an angel has fallen for. And it is more than Castiel had dared to imagine. The warmth of Dean’s lips pressed to his, the way they move against his, the way Dean is kissing him back is indescribable.
Castiel feels both weak and strong at the same time, feeling as though he’s going to collapse, but suddenly Dean’s arms are around him, grasping tightly across his back, one hand on his neck, fingers running through his hair. And Castiel is light-headed, finding it hard to breathe, unable to concentrate on anything but Dean. The way Dean’s body feels against his own, the way Dean tastes, the way his fingers caress so softly.
Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, and melts into him, his whole body tingling and dissolving into Dean, wanting to become a part of Dean so that they can never be separated.
Dean holds tighter, kissing the corner of Castiel’s mouth, his teeth grazing across his bottom lip as he breathes the name ‘Cas’ into Castiel’s mouth. And it’s almost a question, a question that Castiel’s knows the answer to in his heart and in his grace. He finally feels he can tell Dean and knows it will all be all right when he does.
Their lips part slowly, painfully but they stay embraced, their bodies pressed firmly together. And Castiel is thankful that Dean doesn’t pull away as he is almost certain he wouldn’t be able to stand without Dean there to support him.
And Castiel silently prays to his father that Dean will always be there to support him, as he will always be there to support Dean. He stares deeply into Dean’s eyes and says the words he has needed to for so long now, at the same time answering Dean’s whispered question.
“I love you Dean.”
Author: ravengrimm
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Genre: Slash
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1854
Warnings: None really
Spoilers: Just basically S4 as I've not seen S5 yet :(
Summary: Castiel needs to tell Dean something, but he's worried his borrowed heart will be broken if he does
MERRY CHRISTMAS lilacwest !!!
I hope this story fills you with lots of warm fuzzies to keep you going over the cold months of winter.
I hope you like it :)
“I like you Dean,” Castiel mummers, the words escaping from his lips of their own volition, having been running through his mind on a constant loop for the past half hour. The past half hour spent standing idly in Dean’s motel room, while Dean reads about yet another grisly death the brothers will have to look into. Time Castiel has spent just thinking about Dean, about what he wants to say to him, what he wants to do to him…
Castiel casts his eyes down at that, at that lustful thought, and at those words accidentally spoken aloud, half expecting them not to have been heard, and half hoping. But Castiel apparently isn’t that lucky as Dean says, “You realise I don’t swing that way.” His voice breathy, riding out of his mouth on the tides of a yawn, and apparently Dean wasn’t paying much attention when he said it either as he stops reading sharply and turns to Castiel, saying, “Wait… what?”
Castiel closes his eyes and sighs. “It doesn’t matter, forget I said anything,” he says, and is a second away from leaving, when Dean stands abruptly, perhaps perceiving Castiel’s intentions, even though he gave him no indication.
“No, hang on a minute,” Dean says, facing Castiel with an expression he hasn’t seen grace Dean’s face before, an expression that gives Castiel even more of a reason to pause than Dean’s actual words seem to. “Where the hell did that come from all of a sudden?” Dean asks, his head to one side, and that inexplicable emotion fierce in his eyes, and tight in his lips as he studies Castiel.
“Really Dean, it doesn’t matter,” Castiel says bitterly, feeling the lie burn deep inside of him. It does matter, it matters a lot. Castiel sags, he really hadn’t thought past those four words that still linger on his tongue, branded there like the scar on Dean’s arm, the scar he left. He bites his lip, trying to conjure up an explanation that would satisfy Dean while at the same time, not giving anything away, not telling Dean what Castiel really wants him to know.
That he likes Dean. No, if he’s really honest with himself, it’s more than that, so much more that it’s actually painful. Painful to be around Dean and keep his feelings bottled up, painful that he can’t-
“Cas, come one. You can’t just say something like that and then pretend you didn’t,” Dean says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable talking about this, so why does he continue, why press the matter at his own expense.
Dean clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you like me or do you uh, like like me?” he asks, frowning and swallowing hard.
That was unexpected. Those words and that flash of something in Dean’s eyes before he turned them down and out of sight. There is something in the way he said it too, something that Castiel can’t quite put his finger on.
Castiel bites his lip, deciding to put a little thought into his answer, like he should have done before speaking in the first place, but then hadn’t that been the whole problem, that he’d been thinking too much? He groans silently to himself, trying to discern the difference between ‘like’ and ‘like like’ having not heard the term before. He kind of grasps the general idea behind it though, made easier by the tone of Dean’s voice and the way his eyes can’t seem to stay focused on Castiel’s for longer than a second before darting away again.
So the difference, he guesses, is perhaps if ‘like’ is equal to how much Dean likes sleeping and ‘like like’ is equal to how much Dean likes pie, or his Impala - which is really more like love - then Castiel is pretty sure he knows how many ‘likes’ are needed, and it’s not one, or even two.
However, he settles on a less complicated answer and just says, “I… uh, have strong feelings for you.”
But perhaps it wasn’t as uncomplicated as Castiel had thought, as Dean appears to choke on something before spitting out, “Dude I have strong feelings for my brother, doesn’t mean I wanna go make out with him or anything-” Dean cuts himself off with a desperate look on his face, and turns away sharply, seemingly completely unable to look Castiel in the eyes now.
‘Make out’? Castiel hadn’t expected that, he wouldn’t of put it in those exact words, though he badly craves that intimate contact with Dean.
To be able to kiss Dean… The desire to do so makes Castiel’s vessel’s heart ach beyond belief. But Dean doesn’t want that, that’s clear, has been clear for a good many years to anyone with eyes or ears. Dean likes women, lots of women, to even consider that he could feel for another man, an angel in a man’s body, is so ridiculous it’s unthinkable.
“Cas?”
“You’ve made your feelings clear, Dean, what I said is irrelevant now.”
Castiel has to stop this now, the longer he thinks about it the more it hurts. But he’ll always think about it, think about Dean, long after Dean has died Castiel will still think of him, unless he has died protecting the human that has stolen his heart. But even then…
Dean shakes his head. “My feelings clear? What about yours?” he snaps, taking a step closer, apparently finding the nerve to lock gazes with Castiel again. Why is he angry? Castiel doesn’t understand. He wishes he hadn’t said those unfortunate four words in the first place. His friendship with Dean, if you can call it friendship, has been tenuous at best, he doesn’t want to drive him away, or make Dean hate him.
Dean shifts his weight and folds his arms loosely across his chest, his expression softening along with his voice as he says, “Come on Cas, start making some sense here, okay.”
Castiel breathes out slowly through his lips before saying, “Dean, I…” I don’t want you to hate me. “I…” I want to be with you. “I…” love you.
“You… what?” Dean asks, his voice even softer than before, his arms relaxing and slipping down against his sides. He takes another step closer, leaving just under a meter between them, so close that Castiel could reach out and touch him, grasp a hold of Dean’s t-shirt and pull him flush against his body, wrap his arms around him in and never let go.
Castiel groans, his fists clenching, holding back the urge with more strength than he thought he possessed. “When I raised you from perdition, I branded your soul with my grace. The mark on your arm, the one my hand burnt into your skin is just the outward sign of this brand, but it goes deeper, much deeper.” Castiel can’t tell if what he’s saying is making sense to Dean, if he even begins to fathom the meaning buried beneath it.
Dean says nothing; just stands there watching Castiel, his expression strangely guarded, like he’s trying to hid something from Castiel, perhaps an utter lack of comprehension to what Castiel is saying.
“But that’s not all that happened,” Castiel continues regardless. “You were so full of emotion, so terrified, so thankful, that when I touched your soul, your soul… touched me. You must understand Dean, this isn’t supposed happen,” Castiel explains, shaking his head and looking away from Dean.
He wonders how much of this he will be allowed to tell Dean, or if he has already said too much. Even so Castiel can’t keep this hidden much longer. Every second he is with Dean; he longs to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him and tell Dean how he makes him feel…
“So what does that mean exactly?” Dean asks, tilting his head to catch Castiel’s attention, and drawing his gaze up again. And the warmth in Dean’s eyes, makes Castiel’s heart swim, his borrowed body suddenly warm all over. And he knows he must tell Dean. No matter what, he must find a way.
One way or another, he will make his feelings for Dean clear, and even if Castiel is dragged away from Dean to face destruction for his disobedience, he will still tell Dean, somehow…
But how do you let someone know that you love them, while at the same time trying desperately not to be rejected, or have your borrowed heart shattered into irreparable pieces?
“Because of you,” he starts, his voice cracking slightly as he still stares into Dean’s eyes, somehow maintaining the strength to do so. “Because of you, Dean, I feel,” he breaths, his gaze falling onto Dean lips as his tongue slips out to wet them, and a knot tightens around Castiel’s heart. He swallows hard, turning away from Dean as he realizes what he should do, but at the same time knowing that he really should not.
Castiel closes his eyes in the silence, his fists clenched at his sides and when he opens them again Dean is there, wide eyed and confused, and so Castiel…
Kisses him.
He cups his hands around Dean’s face and kisses the man he has inexplicably fallen in love with, the man an angel has fallen for. And it is more than Castiel had dared to imagine. The warmth of Dean’s lips pressed to his, the way they move against his, the way Dean is kissing him back is indescribable.
Castiel feels both weak and strong at the same time, feeling as though he’s going to collapse, but suddenly Dean’s arms are around him, grasping tightly across his back, one hand on his neck, fingers running through his hair. And Castiel is light-headed, finding it hard to breathe, unable to concentrate on anything but Dean. The way Dean’s body feels against his own, the way Dean tastes, the way his fingers caress so softly.
Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, and melts into him, his whole body tingling and dissolving into Dean, wanting to become a part of Dean so that they can never be separated.
Dean holds tighter, kissing the corner of Castiel’s mouth, his teeth grazing across his bottom lip as he breathes the name ‘Cas’ into Castiel’s mouth. And it’s almost a question, a question that Castiel’s knows the answer to in his heart and in his grace. He finally feels he can tell Dean and knows it will all be all right when he does.
Their lips part slowly, painfully but they stay embraced, their bodies pressed firmly together. And Castiel is thankful that Dean doesn’t pull away as he is almost certain he wouldn’t be able to stand without Dean there to support him.
And Castiel silently prays to his father that Dean will always be there to support him, as he will always be there to support Dean. He stares deeply into Dean’s eyes and says the words he has needed to for so long now, at the same time answering Dean’s whispered question.
“I love you Dean.”