Doodle & Drabble: Right Back Down To The Earth
Title: Right Back Down To The Earth
Pairing: Sam/Castiel
Rating: PG
Warnings: For crack.
Spoilers: Possibly up to Season 5, but you have to be really picky?
Author’s Note: This gorgeous doodle and the silly drabble are created for the awesome 31 Little Abominations challenge - I know my posting date was on the 10th and it's not the 10th where I live anymore. I fail really hard. I forgot about the whole thing and I went up to wicked_warrior and I was like, "Man, I need something to post. HELP ME."
And of course she gave me something that was beyond spectacular (and also, she was listening to this song, which is the sassiest thing.) Hopefully where you are, it's still the 10th? Here’s her awesome DeviantArt Gallery, just so you can stalk her when she’s doing something that isn’t indulging me.
Disclaimer: Everything here belongs to Kripke. And the sassy girls.
It’s a fact know to everyone that the new Sheriff of Heaven doesn’t dance.
It’s undignified, it’s careless, it’s fun, and with everything that’s happening in the world, Castiel doubts it’s even something he has time for. It’s Dean’s fault in the first place that Castiel’s standing in this club right now, dressed in something other than his regular attire, trying to find sense in blinking, colorful lights and music that’s certainly too loud to be enjoyable.
His friend has gotten lost in the middle of the club, surrounded by all kinds of men and women like only Dean can ever be, too charming and friendly for his own good, which means that Castiel’s standing by the bar with a drink in his hand and not much idea of what he’s supposed to do next. Have fun! Dean had said. Please, specify. But Cas’ reply went unnoticed.
It isn’t very long until several clubbers, drunk on cheap tequila and their own glee, notice the angel, lonely and out of place, and it doesn’t matter if Castiel tries to tell them that he’s perfectly capable of attempting fun by himself. They try to cheer him up with jokes he finds no logic in and drag him up to the small stage in the middle of the place, leave him in front of the microphone fully expecting him to join in a song he doesn’t know.
The crowd does not seem to notice much of his presence, either absorbed by the music or too busy absorbing their drinks, except for the single presence looking at Castiel like the rest of the room is empty. The angel doesn’t have to look closely to know, and the thrill he feels at the sight of tall, broad-shouldered figure waiting for him is the closest thing to real humanity he’s ever felt.
Sam’s smile is arrogant as he walks up to Castiel and takes him by the hand, drags him down among the crowd of dancers even though the angel is not participating in the least. “You know, I fully expected you to be standing at the bar. I fear I may have missed your singing, though.”
“I don’t sing,” Castiel states, like it explains everything.
“That should be impossible,” Sam replies. “The voice of an angel is meant to enchant.”
“In fact,” the angel replies. “It breaks windows.”
It doesn’t escape Castiel that Sam seems to be all too comfortable in this place of debauchery and abandon, as is fitting. He observes the room like it’s all his handiwork, and in all honesty, if it is, Castiel has to give him points for the suit. “I wonder what’s an angel like you doing in a place like this.”
Castiel doesn’t hesitate. “Dean tricked me into it.”
Sam’s smile turns sheepish, but the look he gives Cas implies that he could not be sorry if he actually tried. “I may have made him do it,” he confesses. “I needed an excuse to see you.”
Boy King or not, Sam’s still Sam.
It’s a lesser known fact that as far as the balance in the Universe is concerned, Castiel went and picked the most inappropriate lover he could ever find. It’s also true that it was precisely that what made him fall in love in the first place, all angelic righteousness and purity in stark contrast to Sam’s faulty, overwhelming humanity.
They are constantly at odds, one of them absolute power and the other pure control, but those emotions come with the job. Other emotions, like the thrill of a kiss or the warmth of one body pressed to another or the wish to never let him out of his sight if it isn’t strictly necessary were not in the job description, but Cas accepts them all the same.
“Here,” Sam says, after a dancer bumps unceremoniously into Castiel, “I’ll show you.”
If Castiel lets him lead and they make an attempt at dancing that will not make the angel feel particularly proud (at least at first, the night is still young), Sam isn’t going to tell a soul.
Pairing: Sam/Castiel
Rating: PG
Warnings: For crack.
Spoilers: Possibly up to Season 5, but you have to be really picky?
Author’s Note: This gorgeous doodle and the silly drabble are created for the awesome 31 Little Abominations challenge - I know my posting date was on the 10th and it's not the 10th where I live anymore. I fail really hard. I forgot about the whole thing and I went up to wicked_warrior and I was like, "Man, I need something to post. HELP ME."
And of course she gave me something that was beyond spectacular (and also, she was listening to this song, which is the sassiest thing.) Hopefully where you are, it's still the 10th? Here’s her awesome DeviantArt Gallery, just so you can stalk her when she’s doing something that isn’t indulging me.
Disclaimer: Everything here belongs to Kripke. And the sassy girls.
It’s a fact know to everyone that the new Sheriff of Heaven doesn’t dance.
It’s undignified, it’s careless, it’s fun, and with everything that’s happening in the world, Castiel doubts it’s even something he has time for. It’s Dean’s fault in the first place that Castiel’s standing in this club right now, dressed in something other than his regular attire, trying to find sense in blinking, colorful lights and music that’s certainly too loud to be enjoyable.
His friend has gotten lost in the middle of the club, surrounded by all kinds of men and women like only Dean can ever be, too charming and friendly for his own good, which means that Castiel’s standing by the bar with a drink in his hand and not much idea of what he’s supposed to do next. Have fun! Dean had said. Please, specify. But Cas’ reply went unnoticed.
It isn’t very long until several clubbers, drunk on cheap tequila and their own glee, notice the angel, lonely and out of place, and it doesn’t matter if Castiel tries to tell them that he’s perfectly capable of attempting fun by himself. They try to cheer him up with jokes he finds no logic in and drag him up to the small stage in the middle of the place, leave him in front of the microphone fully expecting him to join in a song he doesn’t know.
The crowd does not seem to notice much of his presence, either absorbed by the music or too busy absorbing their drinks, except for the single presence looking at Castiel like the rest of the room is empty. The angel doesn’t have to look closely to know, and the thrill he feels at the sight of tall, broad-shouldered figure waiting for him is the closest thing to real humanity he’s ever felt.
Sam’s smile is arrogant as he walks up to Castiel and takes him by the hand, drags him down among the crowd of dancers even though the angel is not participating in the least. “You know, I fully expected you to be standing at the bar. I fear I may have missed your singing, though.”
“I don’t sing,” Castiel states, like it explains everything.
“That should be impossible,” Sam replies. “The voice of an angel is meant to enchant.”
“In fact,” the angel replies. “It breaks windows.”
It doesn’t escape Castiel that Sam seems to be all too comfortable in this place of debauchery and abandon, as is fitting. He observes the room like it’s all his handiwork, and in all honesty, if it is, Castiel has to give him points for the suit. “I wonder what’s an angel like you doing in a place like this.”
Castiel doesn’t hesitate. “Dean tricked me into it.”
Sam’s smile turns sheepish, but the look he gives Cas implies that he could not be sorry if he actually tried. “I may have made him do it,” he confesses. “I needed an excuse to see you.”
Boy King or not, Sam’s still Sam.
It’s a lesser known fact that as far as the balance in the Universe is concerned, Castiel went and picked the most inappropriate lover he could ever find. It’s also true that it was precisely that what made him fall in love in the first place, all angelic righteousness and purity in stark contrast to Sam’s faulty, overwhelming humanity.
They are constantly at odds, one of them absolute power and the other pure control, but those emotions come with the job. Other emotions, like the thrill of a kiss or the warmth of one body pressed to another or the wish to never let him out of his sight if it isn’t strictly necessary were not in the job description, but Cas accepts them all the same.
“Here,” Sam says, after a dancer bumps unceremoniously into Castiel, “I’ll show you.”
If Castiel lets him lead and they make an attempt at dancing that will not make the angel feel particularly proud (at least at first, the night is still young), Sam isn’t going to tell a soul.