HEY SASSITEERS!~~
It's been forever and a half since we had a
COMMENT!FIC MEME
so let's go!
P.S. "Comment!fic" totally includes "comment!arts" jsyk.
P.P.S. Anon commenting is enabled.
Fills!
~ Cas ends up in a romantic/sexual relationship with Sam, and they decide, after a few times of almost getting caught, they need to tell Dean before he finds out on ( Read more... )
COMMENT!FIC MEME
so let's go!
P.S. "Comment!fic" totally includes "comment!arts" jsyk.
P.P.S. Anon commenting is enabled.
Fills!
~ Cas ends up in a romantic/sexual relationship with Sam, and they decide, after a few times of almost getting caught, they need to tell Dean before he finds out on ( Read more... )
“Fuck you and your laptop,” Dean slurred back, his face pressed into his pillow.
Sam grumbled, thinking that he must have left his laptop on, and sat up in bed. Castiel was using it, his back to Sam, a slumped silhouette blocking a clear view of flashing screens. His fingertips were lightly resting on the sides of the laptop, and Sam was about to tell him that’s not how you use a computer when his brain caught up, and he realised that it was probably irrelevant information.
“Cas,” he mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face with one hand. “What’re y’doin’?”
“Research.”
Sam glanced at the clock beside his bed, squinting to make the numbers out in the dark. “S’middle of the night,” he whined. “Go t’ sleep.”
“I don’t sleep,” Castiel replied gruffly.
“Liar, liar,” Dean mumbled into his pillow.
Sam flopped back down onto his bed with a grunt. “Take that somewhere else,” he said, rolling onto his side away from the light. He heard the completely normal sounds of someone closing a laptop, unplugging it, and scuffing their feet a little as they left the room.
“Almost miss the wings,” he said, feeling sleep coaxing him back to her bosom.
Dean threw a shirt at him, and Sam shut up.
*
Sam had all but forgotten his conversation with Cas about the novels when Dean idly commented, “Glad to see he ditched the books.” Sam considered the observation, and realised that he hadn’t seen Cas with one of those awful, taunting books for a week.
He turned to Cas, who had stolen Sam’s laptop earlier that morning and was sitting quietly in the backseat, staring at its screen with the kind of unblinking devotion only an angel possesses. “Yeah Cas, you get sick of them?”
“I finished the official gospels,” Castiel replied absently. Sam and Dean exchanged a look of relief. “I am now devoting myself to the supplemental materials.”
Sam froze, and the whole conversation came flooding back. Dean glanced over at him, and did a double take when he saw Sam’s stricken look. “What?” he asked. “What ‘supplemental materials’? Sam? Sam!?”
“I, uh, may have mentioned...”
“You didn’t. You did not tell an angel to go read fanfic.” The Impala swerved across the road and Dean gestured wildly. “You did not do something stupid and creepy and oh Jesus Sam, why did you tell him about that? Hooking up with another demon would have been smarter!”
“Look,” Sam said stiffly. “Just ignore him and he’ll grow out of it.”
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“Dean,” Cas called from the backseat. “Is your body the same to your eyes as it was before your ascension into hell?”
“My what?” Dean stumbled to catch up with the sudden change in conversation. “Yeah, I guess so. Aside from your freaking signature on my shoulder.”
Castiel nodded absently. “When I was revitalising your flesh, I would not have described your genitals as ‘astounding’,” he said, as if this were a normal conversation that normal people had without gouging their normal people eyes out. “But I suppose it’s a more applicable descriptor than that given to Sam’s.”
There was a long, painful pause in the car. The war between the instincts screaming ‘you don’t want to know’, and those screaming ‘you have to know’. Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Sam bit his tongue, and bounced his teeth on the flesh to keep himself from speaking. A bead of sweat trickled down over his temple.
Dean cracked first. “What-?”
“I would not describe your penis as ‘equine’, Sam,” Castiel said without looking up from the screen.
Sam didn’t know what was worse - those words on Castiel’s mouth, the dizzy feeling that he could only assume was the sensation of dying of mortification, or Dean’s protests about biased fangirls and misrepresentations of size.
No, Sam realised as they pulled into town. The worst part was when Castiel abandoned the conversation and began typing.
“I hope you’re correcting those idiots,” Dean called over his shoulder. “Smite them for me.”
“I was just challenged by someone called Samlicker81,” Castiel said calmly.
“What, like a duel?”
“She told me to write a fic myself if I had so many complaints about hers.” Sam buried his face in his hands, and Dean looked away from the road just long enough to hit his forehead against the steering wheel, twice.
“What do you think sounds better,” Castiel asked as they pulled into the parking lot of the cheapest looking motel they could find. “Enlarged, or engorged?”
“This is your fault,” Dean said flatly to Sam. “That means you get to room with him.”
“Wait, what?”
“You can check his grammar or something,” Dean said hauling himself out of the car. “Make sure he doesn’t jizz up your keyboard.”
“What? No, Dean!”
“It’s okay, Sam,” Castiel said, still typing furiously, still completely lacking in concern. “I have only masturbated to fanfic twice, and your computer is unharmed.”
*
Dean was mortified when he found out their angel was reading the Winchester gospels. But it was Sam who never quite recovered.
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