Title: Beneath An Orange Sky
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Jimmy/Castiel
Rating: R
Summary: Pre-series. Jimmy is going to take more convincing than Castiel had expected, so the angel goes dreamwalking.
For
thunder_nari; happy birthday my lovely! I hope this is okay.
The sky arched high above, soft orange light covering the long grass and the thick clump of trees in warmth. It was a beautiful place, full of peace and untouched by humanity, but Jimmy had no memory of the place. He didn't know where he was, just that the air smelt sweeter and fresher than any he'd known before, and the flowers interspersed in the green of the grass were the brightest and most beautiful he'd seen.
Maybe I'm in Heaven, he thought. But I don't remember dying.
"You are not dead," said a voice as fresh and clean as the rest of this place. It came from a few feet in front of Jimmy and it wasn't until he looked into the shadow of the nearest tree that a man appeared, draped in the same soft light from the sun but wearing nothing else. "Hello, Jimmy. It is good to speak to you directly at last."
"Castiel," Jimmy muttered quietly, but the angel heard him and lifted his head as if proud of his identity. Jimmy didn't know what to say, what to do; he'd assumed the voices from nowhere and the unexplained occurrences were nothing but an oncoming mental breakdown. Now he was faced with a man who wasn't a man, a being whose face and body were as close to perfect as any could be. Jimmy couldn't look away even as his heart beat faster in fear and exhilaration. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"
Castiel approached him with slow steps. The light of the sky shifted and Jimmy realised with a jolt that the sublime glow was not from the sun; it emanated from the angel. It was all the more beautiful for it. When Castiel stopped barely an arm's reach away, Jimmy could see his eyes were nothing like those of a human; they were pale yellow, almost white, with no black pupil piercing the centre. It should have been a little creepy. It wasn't. "You are not dreaming," the angel said.
"Then how did I get here?" he demanded, the vaguest flare of irritation emerging. He had been in bed with his wife. She had rolled over, stolen the covers just as she always did. Jimmy had smiled and closed his eyes and then...
"You are asleep," said Castiel, "but you believe that experiences outside of your waking life are somehow less necessarily real than anything else. This is not true."
"You mean that when I dream of flying, I'm actually really in the air?" asked Jimmy, thoroughly cynical. "Because I've had some pretty strange dreams and I'm a lot more comfortable believing I haven't stood in front of my entire office wearing nothing but a tutu, thanks."
Castiel stared blankly for a short second, clearly trying to absorb that particular line of thought. His voice was a laced with the slow tone afterwards, talking down to a child. "There are dreams, Jimmy Novak. But there are other possibilities brought by sleep. You have not been answering me."
"Well, call me crazy, but I don't tend to reply to disembodied voices around the house," replied Jimmy. "Because that will lead people to, you know, call me crazy."
"You are not crazy," Castiel said.
Jimmy snorted softly. "Yeah. Prove it."
Then the angel was barely a breath away from him, face too close, eyes fixed unblinkingly to Jimmy's with a slow swirl of pale colour. Jimmy was struck dumb by the immediate presence of the divine being, the shock of the intensity drawing a gasp from him. Castiel wasn't even touching him but Jimmy could feel him, the power radiating from him almost tangible. It slipped beneath Jimmy's skin and burnt through his chest.
"You are not crazy," Castiel said, his voice low and smooth and intense.
Jimmy couldn't imagine not believing anything uttered in that voice. His knees felt a little weak. "Okay," he breathed out.
Perhaps Castiel had been about to back away then, talk to him from a less invasive distance but he stopped halfway to moving, eyes flickering, and he stayed where he was. "I have a request."
"Okay," said Jimmy in the same breathless tone. He wondered if Castiel could even hear it with the heavy beating of his heart so loud in his chest.
"I wish to use your body."
Jimmy's eyes opened wide and he managed to gather himself up enough that he could take a sharp step backwards, waving an arm in indignation. "What? No! Seriously? Just my luck that an angel comes to me and he's a pervert. I'm married. You’re not human."
"You... misunderstand me," said Castiel. If Jimmy didn't know any better, he'd think he sounded amused. "I need your body for a different purpose. For God's purpose."
"Oh," said Jimmy, unable to pull the annoyance from his tone just yet. He folded his arms and tipped up his chin. "What purpose?"
"There is a war coming," said Castiel. "Angels are being called down from Heaven to fight alongside humans, to cast the rising demonic threat back to Hell where the creatures belong. We cannot, however, appear before humans without some form of vessel."
"Vessel?" he repeated. "Wait, you want to use my body to walk around and fight demons? Wow, okay, that's not exactly what I was expecting. Does this happen a lot?"
"Not since the time of Christ," said Castiel. "I have not conversed with a human for two thousand years."
"That explains a lot. Okay. I'm not going to do it, though," said Jimmy, shaking his head. "Sorry. I have a family."
"Your family will die," replied Castiel, his tone bland for such weighted words. "They will be torn limb-from-limb by the forces of darkness and you will watch the light fade in their souls. There is nothing you can do to stop this if Hell on Earth becomes a reality."
“Can’t you find someone else?”
Castiel paused then, his eyes fixed on Jimmy’s face. Those eyes were as bright as the light that filled this strange place, gold and blue and something more and indefinable. He lifted a white hand and reached out for Jimmy’s bare arm. The touch was like fire but worse and infinitely better; the slow pain of the burn lingered for long seconds after Castiel had dropped his hand away. “If you are not the one I am looking for,” the angel said calmly, “my touch would scar your skin.”
Even when the pain of it had faded, heat stirred beneath Jimmy’s skin. It was… incredible. He could feel it as clearly as if Castiel’s hand was still there; not the ghost of a touch but a full, heavy heat of skin. The long breath he took shook on its way in and a light seemed to flick on in Castiel’s eyes.
“It can be intense. The human body is not well designed to hold the power of a divine being but yours is different. Special.” Castiel touched Jimmy again, fingertips heating his neck now and skimming down over his chest. His palm came to rest flat over the thin fabric of his shirt and Jimmy closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and wondered how his shirt wasn’t bursting into flames. Castiel made a soft, thoughtful noise. “The experience will, at times, be overwhelming for you but it will not be unpleasant.”
Jimmy was having trouble finding his breath. He knew this sensation, the fierce, cushioned arousal of dreams, always just out of reach. The touches stayed on his skin even as Castiel moved back to stare solidly at him. This was ridiculous; it was just a touch even if it was from an angel. It shouldn’t leave his knees shaky and his breath short and his skin on fire. He forced his eyes to stay open and fixed them upon Castiel. “What are you doing to me?”
“Human bodies respond effectively to pleasure,” he replied like citing a textbook. “But this is nothing.”
“Doesn’t feel like nothing.” The words were choked and difficult to say as his body crumpled forward under the touch that wouldn’t move, not even when he grabbed Castiel’s hand with his own and pulled. He wouldn’t budge. Jimmy landed on the ground on his knees, one hand on the soft grass, gripping tight to the long green blades. Castiel just followed him down, hand pressing to his back instead, sliding down along his spine. Jimmy groaned. “Stop.”
The movement ceased but the touch was still there. Castiel’s voice was quiet and still annoyingly confident, winding around Jimmy’s doubt and obscuring it. “Is that what you want? You are free to turn me down, Jimmy. This must be your choice. I cannot enter an unwilling body.”
Jimmy should refuse him on the principle of it alone. He should tell the angel to stop this, to back off and let him wake up. He should be opening his eyes with his wife lying next to him and the whole angel thing pushed away and forgotten. Instead, he shook his head and arched his back awkwardly towards the touch, bumping Castiel’s hand a little lower. “No. No, I don’t want you to stop.”
“You agree to be my vessel, if I need it?” Castiel said, his voice like silk against Jimmy’s ear. He was kneeling in front of Jimmy, both hands skating up beneath the fabric of his shirt leaving trails of intense heat. “You do not have to say yes now. Just do not say no.”
“Okay,” hissed Jimmy. He didn’t care about the words anymore. His mind was dissolving unpleasantly as his body took control, making its preferences known quite forcefully as the bliss overwhelms him. It was more than just physical; it enwrapped every inch of his soul, peace and fear and perfection. This had to be a hint of Heaven. He couldn’t turn that down.
Castiel made a soft, pleased noise and leant impossibly closer. Warm hands rubbed against Jimmy’s side, pressing just hard enough, running up along his ribs, like the angel was feeling out the body he would soon inhabit. Jimmy couldn’t breathe. He was coming undone entirely with Castiel’s cool gaze upon him and when his fingers dropped down to his hips and over his thighs, it was too much. He gasped and shuddered and bent forward, forehead against Castiel’s chest. It was better than an orgasm but no less substantial.
“I will come to you again,” whispered Castiel before Jimmy could gather his thoughts. “You will listen.”
The light faded and the scenery dissolved, but the pleasure remained.
-
Jimmy’s eyes snapped open and his chest heaved in a breath. Every inch of his skin tingled just this side of pleasant and the touches still felt like brands against his flesh. The air felt hot around him and he turned his head as he attempted to catch his breath.
Amelia was staring at him, eyes wide and full of humour. “Nice dream?”
Jimmy groaned for an entirely different reason, embarrassment flushing his cheeks. The blankets were sticky and damp against his crotch. “Uh. It was… interesting.”
“Who’s Castiel?” she asked, the humour just as thick in her voice.
“An angel,” he said, rolling out of the bed and grimacing at the sight of himself. His skin, he noticed, was bright red wherever Castiel had touched him. He ran his hands across a clear handprint on his thigh and raised his eyebrows. The sensations weren’t fading.
“You were having a sex dream about an angel?” Amelia said. She laughed, a thick surprised sound behind him. “That’s pretty blasphemous of you.”
Behind them, the television flicked on, sending white noise through the room. Jimmy turned to look at it, eyes grave, heart beating too hard.
Do not let God down, the angel’s voice hissed in the loud dry noise. You have a job to do.
The words sent a thrill through Jimmy’s soul and his body. He smiled; Castiel had been wise in his baffling actions. He would listen.