Fic: Prisoner of Love (7/?)
MASTERPOST / AO3
Chapter summary: Sam gives Dean a visit, and with him come a few things.
A/N: This chapter is beta read by alittlewicked48. Thanks, girl. And thank you to all of you who left your reviews for the last chapter!
~:~:~
Dean opened his eyes, looking at the man below him. Cas was squirming, but it was not because he was having some troubled dreams. Maybe it was the morning chill. Dean pulled the blanket up, pulled Cas in closer and watched as he wiggled into him, then relaxed; his breath evened out in a peaceful sleep.
It was deep dark outside, but, judging from the weather, it wouldn't be long before first light crept up across the air. Dean nuzzled his nose into Cas' tousled hair, breathing in the smell of sweat and stale prison shampoo. It was not an attractive scent, to be honest, but Dean was fond of it nonetheless - for it was a scent of security, of knowing Cas was safe in his arms.
The last three nights in solitary were torture. Even though Dean had received word that Cas was safe, that everyone kept their distance and tight guards had been set around him, Dean couldn't put his mind to rest. At night, he would think of their first kiss, and how it could mean a hundred different things, which ninety-nine of them basically meant Cas did not share the same feelings he did. But most of all, he wondered how Cas was coping with the trauma.
Cas shuffled and turned away to lie on his back. Faintest light of dawn began swamping in and Dean propped up on his elbow to get a better look on his cherub's face - with cherub being not the physical aspect of it. With always tense and worn-out complexion, Cas looked older than his age, whatever his age might be. Wrinkles and frowns that adorned his slightly droopy eyes and lack of smiles made him look perpetually sad. Cas might have lost a few pounds since he got here, if his sharp cheek bones and cleft chin hidden away behind bristling stubble was any indication.
As the sky got brighter, Dean noticed along the exposed skin above the neckline of Cas' clothes were dark bruises. He remembered he saw more of those on Cas' wrists, stomach and down at the ankles. Dean felt his chest constrict even before he could imagine what Cas had gone through to get those bruises.
Castiel startled at the blaring sound of the morning alarm. Dean placed a hand on his chest to steady him, but once Cas saw him, he promptly backed away. Dean's heart sank but he managed to put on a tight smile. What was more painful, however, was that Cas took a quick glance at his wrists as if to check for new bruises. Soon he realised what had really happened and attacked Dean with a hug.
Gulping down the lump in his chest, Dean said, "Morning, sunshine," trying to sound as cheery as possible. Kissing the top of Cas' hair, he tightened the embrace.
Cas pulled back and flashed a smile: a genuine, beaming smile that went up to his cheeks, eyes and more, and it blew all Dean's troubled feelings away.
"Thank you, Dean," he said before attacking Dean again, this time with a clash of lips and teeth. Dean ran his fingers through those dishevelled morning hair, ready to deepen the kiss, but, hearing people's voices and movements, he had to pull away from the clingy angel.
"I'd better get going," he said.
Cas nodded, fervent giddiness evident in his eyes.
Dean stopped at the metal gates of their cell, looking back at Castiel who was curling under the covers and returning his gaze with a lovely small smile. Dean gripped the metal bar tighter, feeling its cold surface and rigidity resisting the grip against his palm. How Dean would love to spend more time cuddle that little ball of blanket. How Dean wished they didn't live in a schedule so they could kiss as long as they wanted, or even share some morning sexy times.
Hearing footsteps approached, Dean quickly tore himself away and disappeared.
~:~:~
"Hey, Sammy!" Dean greeted his Sasquatch of a brother with a big grin, opening his arms for a hug as he got nearer. Sam returned the hug with a few pats to Dean's back.
Removing himself from Dean's hold, Sam revealed who he had hidden behind his back.
"The fuck are you doing here?" Dean snarled.
Gabriel just snorted. He was sitting cross-legged and cross-armed on a chair next to the table Sam was obviously occupying. "I'm here to see your brother, Dean."
"And why the hell are you here to see my brother?" Dean bit. He tried to move closer to the irksome man, but Sam held him by the arm.
"I need his help with something," Gabriel replied nonchalantly.
"And what the fuck would you need his help with?" Dean did his best to tower above the short guy. They were usually in good terms with each other, but Dean found himself getting impatient every time Gabriel was somewhere near his brother.
Gabriel just clicked his tongue. Standing up, he taunted Dean in the face. "Don't you know, Deano," he said with a pat on Dean's cheek. Dean would have knocked some teeth off that smug face if Sam didn't hold him back. "Sharing is sexy."
Dean hurled his fist but Sam grabbed it tight.
"Gabe, just leave, please," Sam said wearily.
"Gabe?" Dean turned to scorn Sam after the irritating shorty went out of sight. "Since when have you two been on a nickname basis?"
"Dean, you're being ridiculous," Sam glared. "He's a friend, you know that."
"Yeah, a pervert friend who tried to get into your pants," Dean huffed. It was obvious what type of men Gabriel favoured. It was unnerving that the type exactly matched his brother's. "Did you know he gave us free porn the other day?" Dean feigned a gag.
"I know," Sam returned with an awkward gulp. Dean gaped. How could Sammy know that shit? "He told me. He also told me of your free little porno as well."
Dean felt his face burn. He was so going to kill that big-mouth bastard!
"How are you holding up?" Sam changed the subject.
"I'm doing okay," Dean replied, softening up at the genuine concern in Sam's voice. "So, what've you got?"
Sam opened the few files that looked like police reports on the table. "Meet Castiel Milton," Sam said, turning a full-face photo of Cas Dean's way. "35-year-old primary school teacher. Resident of Sacramento, California. Divorced. Parents Mark and Alena Milton, murdered three years ago. One younger sister, Anna Milton. Clean record. Never busted once until he murdered two men three states away."
But Dean could hardly concentrate. He wanted to give a thank you kiss to whoever chose Cas photo for the file. His face was bright with crisp jawlines and kissable cleft chin dusted with contrasting dark fuzz. His eyes were heavenly blue and his hair a mess that begged to be ruffled. He had no tense creases or sorry droop that he sported these days. Dean idly wondered if he could keep the photo.
Dean was jabbed back to reality by Sam poking a finger at the corner of his lips. "Don't drool on my photo," he teased.
"Bitch," Dean snorted, tossing the photo back to Sam.
Sam caught the sliding photo with one hand. "Jerk," he came back.
"So, uh," Dean continued, waving one finger. "Anything on Anna?"
"Yes," Sam replied with a sigh, handing Dean a photo of a red-haired girl. "Anna Milton. 29. Single. She owns a small restaurant in Sacramento. The Milton's siblings were born and raised in Chino, California. They moved to the capital after Anna dropped out of a med school, where they ran the restaurant together until Castiel got married in 2007. He then went into teaching and never returned to work at the restaurant even after the divorce."
Dean nodded. He wondered if Sam knew if Cas was seeing anyone at the moment, but he dared not ask.
"What do you know about the murder?"
Sam took out a file from under the pile then opened it, revealing crime scene photos. Dean sifted through them. They were horrendous scenes, Dean thought, and he had his fair share of all things horrendous. Two men were lying in a dark pool of blood, limbs twisting artfully, internal organs gushing out of their torsos. Dean's face contorted as he felt the disgusting taste of bile rise up in his throat.
"Don't tell me Cas did all of this?" Dean asked, his voice so hoarse and rough Dean felt like it was scraping the inside of his mouth.
"Unfortunately that's what he said," Sam replied with a small sigh. He could tell Dean didn't take it too well. "Found a strand of hair on one of the vic's bodies. DNA matched Castiel's and he confessed to everything. Case closed."
But Dean wasn't listening. The horrible images of the crime scene wouldn't leave the back of his eyes even though he looked at them for less than a minute. Surely his angel couldn't do any of this - a man so naïve he made Ken doll a male stripper. He believed Cas did not do it. There was no fucking way-
"Dean, you okay?" Sam cut Dean's train of thoughts.
Dean cleared his throat to hide the awkwardness of getting caught drifting away. "Yeah, uh, who are these guys?" he asked.
"Darryl Halligan and Gary Navarra. Both just moved here last year. Darryl was a gardener and Gary a paramedic. No connection to the Milton's whatsoever. According to his statement, Castiel said he met these two at a bar, followed them home and killed them."
Dean kneaded his temples. "Does any of this make any sense to you?" He asked with narrowed eyes. Sam shook his head slightly in response. "He drove three states away from his comfort zone just to follow some random guys home and kill them?"
Seeing Dean fidgeting nervously, Sam said what he hoped would be reassuring. "I'll keep looking into it, okay?"
But Dean's mind was racing. He was struggling to draw logic out of illogical dots. "You said his parents were murdered?" asked Dean. Sam nodded. "Did the police find any connection?"
"I don't think the police did anything much after he confessed, Dean," Sam said. "They got the evidence, and then he confessed. It was pretty open and closed. As far as the police were concerned there was nothing left to investigate."
Stupid police, Dean scoffed. There were good reasons why he never liked them. "You look into that too," he ordered his little brother. "And go visit Anna. She might be able to give us something."
Dean was nervous. There was so much work to do. He wished he were outside so he could help Sam.
"Dean," Sam blurted. "Are we assuming Castiel is not guilty here?"
"We are not assuming," Dean said, slightly irritated. He knew Cas was not guilty. He couldn't tell why. He had been with more than enough scumbags to be able to rate them in different scales just by a look or a single interaction, and Cas fell into the minus zero zones. But that was not why he believed Castiel wasn't guilty. There was something - the same force that drawn him to Cas - that told him Cas could not be behind these murders. And Dean felt like he grew a vagina just at the thought of it. "We are going to prove that Cas is not guilty."
Sam just stared at him. After a while, he softened up. "Okay," he said. Dean was grateful, even though deep down he knew Sam agreed only to appease him. "I'll get Jo to help."
Dean overtly cringed at the name so that Sam knew he was not too thrilled with the idea. But this was for Cas, and he would swallow his dick down for him. "Yeah, you do that," he finally said.
"Dean," Sam called again, looking up from under his fringe. Dean knew it meant something very serious was coming his way. "Is he a liability to you?"
"What? No!" Dean winced suddenly.
"We didn't want to get you a cellmate, but you know how prison population is getting more and more crowded. It's inevitable. So we chose the one who seemed to be the most docile for you, but if he's causing you any trouble-"
"No!" Dean cut him off.
"But he just landed you in lockdown!" Sam wouldn't back down.
"I said no!" Dean retorted more harshly. Sam pursed his lips. "You do what I said. Nothing else. Got it?"
If Sam got it, he didn't show. Instead he gave Dean his infamous bitch face, but that was really all Dean needed.
"Where's my pie?" Dean diverted Sam's attention.
Sam gave another bitch face before turning to fetch it out of his messenger bag. He placed a box of a pie on the table. Dean shot a look at a prison guard nearby, who happened to find the far side of the room interesting all of a sudden. He shoved the box under his shirt and got up.
"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said, giving his brother a loose hug for fear the pie would be crushed.
"Yeah, Dean," Sam returned. "See you in a few days."
"You be good," Dean kept his gaze at his little brother. Cheesy as it was, he found the most difficult time in prison was actually the time he had to say goodbye to his brother after each visit.
"You too," Sam said, tugging both his hands in his pants pockets, watching as Dean walked away. Then he realised he missed something.
"Dean, wait." Sam ran up to Dean, pulling him closer by the arm. He kept his voice low. "Bobby sends his love," Sam started with something sweeter first. "And Ellen said her offer still stands."
As Sam had expected, Dean tensed at the mention of it. He always did, every time. But then he thought of that little ball of blanket he saw on the lower bed this morning, and his tension died away.
"I'll think about it," he said before turning to walk away.
Sam actually gaped, then beamed at him. At least Dean got the two people he cared about most to genuinely smile today and the best apple pie in the state tucked under his shirt. If only good days such as this came more often.
~:~:~
Once Dean stepped out of the visiting room, he saw Gabriel was there waiting for him. Dean stopped, and the prison guard who escorted him stopped a few steps away.
"Got a present for you," Gabriel said, rising up from the wall he was leaning on and handing Dean a book. Dean took it and smirked. 'The Ultimate Guide to Muscle Car Restoration' spread across the cover. So this was what Gabe got from his brother for him.
"Thanks," he said with a wide grin.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "No, you idiot," he scorned. Then he reached out to the book, peeling off the dust jacket, revealing a book titled 'A Guide for Partners of a Rape Survivor' inside.
"The hell?" Dean muttered with a frown.
"Like I would actually get you a book for you to enjoy," Gabriel explained with exasperation. "I only put that on the cover because I know this way Castiel won't pry on it."
But Dean hardly listened as he flipped open to the table of contents page. It listed topics on rape trauma syndrome, coping after sexual assaults, tips on what to say and not to say, how to handle difficult situations, etc. Dean was lost for words. He didn't realise there would be so many effects. Cas seemed okay for the most part.
"Look," Gabriel said in a serious voice. "I love that kid like I do my own brother. You treat him right, or I swear to God I'll slit your throat," he threatened. Dean gulped. He was not usually intimidated by the guy, but Dean didn't think he'd try to get him angry. "I may not succeed, but at least I'll die trying."
Dean nodded. Once Gabriel was satisfied, he walked away, leaving Dean to stand speechless in the corridor clutching the thick book.
~:~:~
"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted the dark-haired man who was sitting reading on his bed, relieved to see it wasn't the book Gabriel gave him this morning. It was past dinnertime and the first time they had seen each other since they parted this morning.
"Hello, Dean," Cas quickly closed the book and jumped to his feet. Dean thought the guy would scoot over to him, but he ended up shuffling on his feet.
"Take it you like reading," Dean said, nodding to the book abandoned on the bed. Dean felt Cas' eyes following him as he walked over to throw the towel on his bunk.
"I'm sorry I took your book without permission," Cas mumbled and fidgeted nervously.
"It's okay, Cas," Dean said, turning to the guy next to him with an assuring grin. "You can take any book from the shelf. I won't mind." Then he told himself to find somewhere else to keep that 'Muscle Car' book.
"Thank you," Cas said softly, keeping his gaze down at the floor.
Dean inwardly sighed. Cas still seemed afraid of him and honestly that was the last thing Dean wanted.
"Can you recite a poem?" Dean asked.
"What?" Cas snapped his head up at the sudden question.
"I said, can you recite a poem?" Dean repeated with a smile, one arm draping over the top bunk while the other resting on his hip in what he hoped was a seemingly comfortable posture.
"A few," Cas replied vacantly, but he kept piercing his gaze into Dean as if he could figure out why Dean asked just by looking deep enough into his eyes.
"Show me," Dean said firmly, a hint of dare in his voice.
Cas opened his mouth as if he was going to ask why, but he swallowed it down. Instead, he set off with a line, "She walks in beauty-"
"Not that one," Dean cut him off rudely, and Cas' voice faltered. His gaze fell to the floor once again.
"Oh, no, no," Dean stuttered and mentally bit his tongue that slipped off faster than his wit. How could he tell Cas that he was being a dick because he didn't want to hear him ponder over some beautiful woman?
"You know it's not very wise to talk about sexy ladies around here," Dean said cautiously. "Try another one."
Cas just nodded, took a deep breath, before he began again:
"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,"
"Lower your voice," Dean interrupted.
"What?" Cas stumbled with a baffling look on his face.
"Continue, but in softer voice," Dean instructed.
Cas frowned, but he lowered his voice, and continued,
"As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more.'"
"Lower," Dean said again, but this time Cas did not stop. He just continued in an even lower voice.
"Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor."
"Yeah, keep your voice at this level," Dean said, and Cas only returned with a tilt of his head, while kept reciting his narrative poem.
"Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore."
Cas' slowly came to a stop over the last couple of lines. His voice was soft and sad as if it hurt him just to think of what was happening in the poem.
So Dean didn't push him further. Instead, he said, "Remember to keep your voice at this level when we talk, okay?" Last thing Dean needed was for others to pry into their private business, and he fully intended to get more and more private with Castiel.
"But this is barely a whisper," Cas said tensely.
Dean grinned. He bent over and purred into Cas' ear, "Then you'll have to lean in a little closer."
Cas' ear went red, and Dean couldn't suppress his laughter.
After his laughter died down, Dean climbed up his bed to retrieve a set of handcuffs from the back of his shelf, but when Dean moved back down, Cas had retreated to the far end of the bed, his face as pale as a ghost.
"Whoa." Dean lifted his hands up, the handcuffs hanging loosely in one of them. "Cas, I'm not going to hurt you."
But Cas was still shaking. He fixed his gaze at the handcuffs in Dean's hand.
"I'm going to put them down, okay?" Dean said, slowly placing the handcuffs down on the lower bed, closer to the end, closer to Cas.
Once the handcuffs were on the bed and Dean's hands were up in the air again, Cas shifted his eyes to Dean. His voice was low and breaking when he asked, "What is it for?"
"I'm going to teach you how to pick the lock," Dean replied. "It's a survival technique, Cas. You need to know how; it could be a matter of life and death."
Cas loosened his grip on the bed pole a little, but still not moving.
"Look, I have a key here," Dean said, showing a tiny key in his palm. "You keep it."
He offered the key to Cas, but Cas did not move until Dean prompted one more time. He quickly grabbed the key away from Dean's hand, then retreated back to the end of the bed.
"You try it," Dean said, nodding towards the handcuffs on the bed. He remained still, hands holding up in plain sight to show Cas that he had no intention of hurting him.
Cas hesitated for a long moment. Then he grabbed the handcuffs and stood as far from Dean as he could. He fumbled with it and after a few tries could get a cuff to spring free from its lock. He looked back at Dean who smiled back at him.
"Are we good?" Dean asked.
Cas reluctantly nodded. He handed the cuffs back to Dean, but kept the key securely with himself.
Dean took them and sat down on the lower bed, his legs dangling off the edge.
"Come sit here," Dean beckoned Cas over.
Cas shuffled for a brief moment more, then he came sitting next to Dean. He was surprised at how close Cas pressed into his side: their thighs touching, their arms overlapping each other.
If anything, Dean was pleased rather than awkward at the close proximity.
Dean took out a paperclip and stretched it in front of him for Cas to see. "Okay, you have a paperclip here," he instructed. "Stick it into the lock, bend it this way until you got a hook like this." Dean showed him the clip that now turned into a small L-shape metal pin. "Now put it in the other way and tweak it." One of the cuffs clicked open. "See? It's easy," Dean said with a triumphant grin. "You want to try?"
He offered the cuffs and a new paperclip to Cas, who took them with shaky hands. He followed what Dean did, and after a few clumsy tries, the cuffs slid off from its lock. A big smile crept up on his face as he handed the cuffs back to Dean.
"Good," Dean said proudly. They still needed to practice picking it while the cuffs was actually on them, not in the air, but Dean guessed that was for another time.
"You want to keep these?" He asked, thinking Cas might feel more comfortable if he had control over them, but Cas shook his head.
"Okay," Dean said. "You can keep the key. Just don't lose it, okay?"
"Okay," Cas replied softly.
"I've got something for you." Dean tapped on Cas' knee before getting up to put the handcuffs away. He was glad Cas didn't ask how he got them in the first place. It was purely for Cas' educational purpose, he wouldn't want to be in a possession of something that could get him and its owner in trouble.
Brushing the thoughts away, Dean grinned upon seeing the box of apple pie he had kept since his meeting with Sam this morning. He took the box and sat back down next to his cellmate, slowly opening the box in front of them as if he was about to open a treasure chest. Dean was thrilled upon seeing the golden top of the pie, even if it was aligned to one side due to the position Dean carried it back to their cell. He was even more thrilled when he saw the look on Cas' face. His eyes went wide and Dean swore Cas was gulping.
"The best apple pie in the state," Dean whispered into Cas' ear.
Cas turned his gaze to Dean. He was barely able to hide his excitement. "How did you get this?" he asked.
"My brother visited me today," Dean gave an awkward reply that thankfully Cas did not notice. He left out the part that it was actually a violation of the rules to bring outside food into their cell, and for that Dean was glad Sam didn't ask why he wanted a whole pie instead of a piece he could finish up in the visiting room as usual.
"Come on. Let's try it." Dean handed a plastic fork to Cas. "No plate or knife so let's forget table manners, shall we?"
Cas just grinned a genuinely happy grin at him and Dean felt like his appetite had already been sated even without the help of his favourite dessert.
Dean ducked his head away to hide the blush he knew he had on his cheeks. He stuck his fork into the pie, scooped up a mouthful, and shoved the pie into his mouth. He couldn't help the strangled moan that escaped his lips the moment the fruity delight touched his tongue. Castiel's gaze followed his movements in awe, and Dean almost choked on his pie because at this moment Cas looked more like he wanted to savour Dean than the dessert itself.
Coughing, Dean gestured towards the pie and Cas tore his gaze away shyly. He put the fork into the pie tentatively, before taking up a small bite and he fucking moaned when the pie got into his mouth. Dean held his breath. Now he knew why Cas looked like he was going to eat Dean alive, because the pie maybe scrumptious, but Cas with pie was sure as hell a hundred times more.
It took all of Dean's effort to shift his focus back to the pie. He savaged the tempting creation like his life depended on it. Castiel took his bites more steadily, not as harsh as Dean did, but also did not stop.
"You know what goes best with apple pie?" Dean asked casually, whirling the plastic fork in the air.
"First flush Darjeeling-"
"Vanilla ice cream-" They both said at the same time.
"The hell is first flush… whatever?" Dean cried.
The corner of Cas' mouth just curled up into a pretty smile. "Darjeeling is a kind of tea, Dean," Castiel said fondly, in the hushed tone Dean had trained him to. "First flush means it is plucked in the first growing season of the year, usually following spring rains."
Dean hummed and nodded approvingly. "Sounds nice."
"It is nice." Cas flashed another smile.
The sight was endearing. It compelled Dean to think maybe all he ever needed was a smile on Cas' face. He looked at Cas who continued eating obliviously and Dean felt everything he ever did and gave up was all worth it - his struggles, his fights, his sacrifices.
"You should try to eat more," Dean said softly, lifting a hand to gently stroke Cas' dark hair. "I know the food here is unbearable most of the time, but I can't sneak in burgers everyday if I wanted to."
Talking about burgers, Dean could think of three different joints within a thirty-mile radius of where they were that served really, really good burgers. How nice would it be if he could take Cas there. He was very sure Cas would love it, even though he did not know whether Cas liked burger or not.
Cas put his fork down. He turned to look Dean directly in the eyes. "Thank you, Dean," he said. "I'll try to eat more."
Dean stroked Cas' hair a few times more with a smile. He knew Cas wasn't lying. He was easier to read than a book for first-graders.
"You full?" Dean asked. There was still quite a large portion left in the box.
Cas nodded.
"We can finish this tomorrow," Dean closed the lid and got up to put the pie away. Just then the main light went out, signalling time for bed. When Dean got his feet back to the ground and turned back, Cas was plastered to him. Lips crashed and Dean had only a brief moment to slide his arms around Cas' waist before he was pressed back to the ladder.
Cas licked at his lips and Dean was more than willing to give him the access he needed. Cas' tongue slid in instantly and Dean thought he might overdose on sugar just by the sweetness of it. He could taste apples and butter and cinnamon in his mouth. Judging by the moans in Cas' throat, Dean assumed he could taste the same thing on him too. They might have just found a more mouth-watering way to finish their leftover pie.
Cas pulled away to catch his breath. His face was flushed hot; his eyes clouded in a daze. "Tell your brother," he rasped, "I said thank you."
"Sure thing," Dean replied with a smirk.
Castiel pushed himself off Dean. He reached up to grab the blanket from Dean's bed and threw it on his bed. Dean grabbed the pillow and both of them settled on the lower bed as though it was a very normal thing for them to do.
They lied facing each other when Cas asked, "Does your brother come here often?"
Dean chuckled. "When he can."
"What does he do?"
"Sam's a lawyer," was Dean's prepared answer. He hated having to lie to Cas, but he couldn't give out what they actually did, at least not while they were in this place. "What about you? You got any siblings too?"
"Yes, I have a younger sister, Anna."
Dean thought he sounded sad when he replied. Sam didn't say Anna was dead, so she must still be alive, but why did Cas have nightmares about his sister? Dean wondered if he could ask what Cas dreamed of, or whether he could mention the dream at all.
"Is she coming to visit you?" Dean pretended to ask innocently.
Cas ducked his head down, picking at the hem of Dean's shirt. "We're not close," he said softly but also firmly. Dean took the hint that meant Cas no longer wished to discuss this topic.
"We should get some sleep," Dean suggested and shifted so that Cas could snuggle into him. They lied there comfortably together. It was peaceful. However, it was quickly interrupted by the feeling of Cas trembling in his arms.
"Cas, you alright?" Dean asked, worried when he looked at the man below him through dim light.
The smaller man shook his head. He clutched Dean's top tightly and wiggled closer into him. His voice was broken when he looked up and begged, "Dean, please."
But Dean could hear the unspoken plea. Dean, please, help me. It was as clear as his own voice in his head. Cas was breaking, and he needed his help, and Dean was going to help him any way he could.
"Okay," Dean said, slowly climbing on top of Cas. For some reason, Cas seemed to find it comforting when he could feel Dean's weight on him. Cas pulled Dean down for a hurried kiss, his hips bucking up in frantic lunges.
"Cas, Cas, stop."
Because as much as Dean wanted it, he had to make sure he was really helping Cas, and not hurting him.
Cas slowly quieted down, his eyes blowing with mixed emotions when he looked at Dean - really, really looked at Dean - with expectations and trust that Dean knew he did not deserve.
"Listen to me," Dean started. "We need to set some rules if we are doing this, okay?"
Cas nodded. Dean could feel Cas' chest heave eagerly beneath him.
"You have to take the lead," Dean blurted. It felt weird coming from him, but this was for Cas. He repeated to himself. This was for Cas. "You tell me what you want and I'll do it. You tell me what you don't want and I'll stop. No question asked. Deal?"
He felt Cas trying to shift beneath him, but he couldn't move much under his weight. So instead, Cas tilted his head and frowned. After a long while, he slowly nodded.
"Say it." Dean had to make sure that he and Cas were on the same page.
"I'll tell you what I want," Cas drew the words out carefully, blue eyes searching his for reassurance. "I'll tell you what I don't want."
"Good," Dean said firmly. "Now kiss me."
At the invitation, Cas instantly crashed his lips with Dean's. He gripped Dean's top tight and pulled him flushed against himself. Dean glided his hips lower, feeling Cas' growing erection against him.
It was a good thing (out of wrong means, Dean chided himself) that he knew what Cas liked, that he knew how to make Cas come undone underneath him.
But still, he needed to ask.
"What do you want, angel?" Dean hummed under Cas' jawbone where his neck met, the angle Dean knew, if he sucked, would send Cas' body shuddering. But instead of a shudder, Cas stiffened. Dean immediately stopped.
He pulled back slightly before asking, "You alright?"
Cas didn't shake his head, but he was restless. He kept fidgeting with Dean's top, eyes glancing from side to side. It took a moment before Cas finally said, "Please don't call me angel."
Dean was taken aback. But you are my angel, he wanted to argue. His days had been dull and boring, but since Castiel appeared in his life, they began to shine. Loneliness and pain were no longer something intolerable. All the pretentious nonsense Dean used to be so proud of became pointless. Cas had shown him a new meaning to life - to living.
But this was for Cas, Dean repeated to himself, and it was a good thing Cas could talk about what he did not want.
"Okay," Dean said. "How about," leaning himself down, he purred into Cas' ear, "baby?"
Cas shrieked. There was no other word to describe that high-pitched laughter that slipped through Cas' lips. Cas was grinning, rubbing his ear on his shoulder. "That tickles," he said, blushing.
Dean couldn't help the grin on his face. Cas' smile was contagious. But that was new. He never knew Cas was ticklish at any point.
"What tickles?" Dean purred into Cas' ear again, "this?" But Cas just gasped in response. "Or," Dean trailed, "honey?"
Cas shrieked again.
Dean grinned wickedly. "Sugar? Sweetheart?" He bombarded Cas' ear with sweet, endearing terms. Cas wouldn't stop laughing and brushing his ear. "Darling? Pumpkin?" Dean was getting more amused. If anything, his heart fluttered at how happy Cas was, at how he could wipe the weariness off Cas' face. "Love?"
Dean was suddenly pushed on his back and Cas straddled his waist. He leaned down to kiss Dean hungrily. It was full of passion, of possessiveness, of desperate yearning.
Cas pulled away and took off his own shirt. He sat back, staring at his hands that were placed on Dean's chest. It was as if he was looking, but didn't see.
"Cas?" Dean placed a hand on Cas' arm with caution. Above him, Cas' pale chest was flushed with heat.
Castiel curled his fingers into Dean's top and pulled. Dean pushed up on his elbows, but Cas pulled again, backing a little away so Dean could sit up. He nudged Dean to the side and Dean moved so his back leaned against the wall.
Straddling him, Cas slowly sat back down until Dean could feel Cas' erection against his. Then he swung, a slow, slight back-and-forth movement of his hips that sent Dean's whole body shuddering. Dean placed his arms on the curve of Cas' back that was now arching like a graceful feline. Cas' wiry arms shook as he gingerly dragged his hard cock over Dean's - up and down - whimpering little mewing noises as he did so. Dean held his breath. It was the only way Dean could stop himself from bucking his hips into Cas, or pressing Cas' hips onto him.
Then Cas stopped. He simply slotted himself onto Dean's body, wrapped his arms around him, and placed his head on Dean's shoulder.
Dean let out the breath he had been holding and leaned his head back on the wall. Tonight was going to be a very long night.
"I…" Cas spoke. His voice was the hoarsest of hoarse, as if his vocal cord hadn't been used in a very long time. He mouthed something again; Dean could feel his lips moving against his collarbone, but it was inaudible.
"I'm not a whore," Cas whispered after a long while.
Dean grimaced and felt like he wanted to bang his head on the wall, hard, several times. He recalled having called Cas that on a few occasions, but it was all done on the spur of the moment - a very, very bad one.
"Of course you're not," Dean said remorsefully. "I'm sorry I said that to you. I didn't mean it, and I won't say it again," Dean reassured him.
Cas pushed himself up so he was now again sitting in front of Dean. The neon light glistened the trail of tears on Cas' cheek and Dean wiped them away with his thumb.
If only he could wipe away the damage as well.
"So…" Dean was going to ask if Cas wanted to sleep or continue, but Cas grabbed Dean's hand and quickly shoved it into his pants.
This time it was Dean who gasped.
He curled his fingers around Cas' hard-on, thumb smearing leaking precum. Cas' breath hitched as he lifted his hips up slightly, one hand pressing on Dean's chest for balance. Dean used his free hand to slip Cas' pants down his thigh, revealing his smooth-as-silk ass. Dean sped up his pace and, in response, Cas squirmed prettily, mewing those soft little noises next to his ear. Dean took it his challenge to turn this cute kitten into a wildcat.
But then Cas tore himself away. Dean almost groaned, thinking Cas wanted to stop, again. Instead, Cas removed his pants all the way off his feet. He lied down on the bed, pulling Dean down with him. Turning his back to Dean, Cas pulled one of Dean's hand over his hip to his cock. Dean immediately continued where he left off, but Cas reached his arm to pull Dean leg over him, so now half of Dean's body was draping over his. A position Dean was most grateful as his neglected erection was pressed tight on the small of Cas' back.
Cas tried to turn his face backwards. "Kiss me," he said softly. Dean propped up on his elbow and leaned over to give Cas a sloppy, open-mouth kiss, pressing more of his weight on him. Cas reached out his arm to clutch behind Dean's neck, pulling him in and devouring his tongue and lips like he had been famished.
Dean increased the pace on his fist and Cas bucked up into it, his hips frantically crushing on Dean's hard cock. He twisted his wrist, eliciting from Cas smutty groans that Dean swallowed down his throat.
Cas let go of Dean's head and turned to clutch tightly at the bed sheet, his breaths becoming erratic and his groans pressing as he fucked into Dean's hand, grinding his ass on Dean's cock with frenzied plunges.
Dean forced his weight on Cas again, squashing his erection on the back of Cas' ass because he, too, was desperate to come. Cas chose that moment to go rigid, spilling on Dean's hand and onto the mattress.
Resting his head on Cas' shoulder, Dean helped him emptying his load. Cas still looked bedazzled when Dean flopped back down on the bed, panting hard, breathless from their vigorous activity.
When Dean got up again, Cas had already fallen asleep, curling on his side. He rose to find the clothes that had been tossed God knows where. They might be needed if Cas woke up in the middle of the night because of the chill. Grabbing Cas' clothes and blankets, Dean settled back down, spooning Cas in his arms. His painful erection was still there, but he would take care of that later - or maybe not. He had given Cas a choice and Cas had chosen. It was, honest-to-God, the least of Dean's problems right now. He had an angel to protect - from both waking and sleeping nightmares - and that was all that mattered.
~:~:~
A/N: The first poem Cas recited was by Lord Byron. The second poem was The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. Thank you for reading!
Chapter summary: Sam gives Dean a visit, and with him come a few things.
A/N: This chapter is beta read by alittlewicked48. Thanks, girl. And thank you to all of you who left your reviews for the last chapter!
~:~:~
Dean opened his eyes, looking at the man below him. Cas was squirming, but it was not because he was having some troubled dreams. Maybe it was the morning chill. Dean pulled the blanket up, pulled Cas in closer and watched as he wiggled into him, then relaxed; his breath evened out in a peaceful sleep.
It was deep dark outside, but, judging from the weather, it wouldn't be long before first light crept up across the air. Dean nuzzled his nose into Cas' tousled hair, breathing in the smell of sweat and stale prison shampoo. It was not an attractive scent, to be honest, but Dean was fond of it nonetheless - for it was a scent of security, of knowing Cas was safe in his arms.
The last three nights in solitary were torture. Even though Dean had received word that Cas was safe, that everyone kept their distance and tight guards had been set around him, Dean couldn't put his mind to rest. At night, he would think of their first kiss, and how it could mean a hundred different things, which ninety-nine of them basically meant Cas did not share the same feelings he did. But most of all, he wondered how Cas was coping with the trauma.
Cas shuffled and turned away to lie on his back. Faintest light of dawn began swamping in and Dean propped up on his elbow to get a better look on his cherub's face - with cherub being not the physical aspect of it. With always tense and worn-out complexion, Cas looked older than his age, whatever his age might be. Wrinkles and frowns that adorned his slightly droopy eyes and lack of smiles made him look perpetually sad. Cas might have lost a few pounds since he got here, if his sharp cheek bones and cleft chin hidden away behind bristling stubble was any indication.
As the sky got brighter, Dean noticed along the exposed skin above the neckline of Cas' clothes were dark bruises. He remembered he saw more of those on Cas' wrists, stomach and down at the ankles. Dean felt his chest constrict even before he could imagine what Cas had gone through to get those bruises.
Castiel startled at the blaring sound of the morning alarm. Dean placed a hand on his chest to steady him, but once Cas saw him, he promptly backed away. Dean's heart sank but he managed to put on a tight smile. What was more painful, however, was that Cas took a quick glance at his wrists as if to check for new bruises. Soon he realised what had really happened and attacked Dean with a hug.
Gulping down the lump in his chest, Dean said, "Morning, sunshine," trying to sound as cheery as possible. Kissing the top of Cas' hair, he tightened the embrace.
Cas pulled back and flashed a smile: a genuine, beaming smile that went up to his cheeks, eyes and more, and it blew all Dean's troubled feelings away.
"Thank you, Dean," he said before attacking Dean again, this time with a clash of lips and teeth. Dean ran his fingers through those dishevelled morning hair, ready to deepen the kiss, but, hearing people's voices and movements, he had to pull away from the clingy angel.
"I'd better get going," he said.
Cas nodded, fervent giddiness evident in his eyes.
Dean stopped at the metal gates of their cell, looking back at Castiel who was curling under the covers and returning his gaze with a lovely small smile. Dean gripped the metal bar tighter, feeling its cold surface and rigidity resisting the grip against his palm. How Dean would love to spend more time cuddle that little ball of blanket. How Dean wished they didn't live in a schedule so they could kiss as long as they wanted, or even share some morning sexy times.
Hearing footsteps approached, Dean quickly tore himself away and disappeared.
~:~:~
"Hey, Sammy!" Dean greeted his Sasquatch of a brother with a big grin, opening his arms for a hug as he got nearer. Sam returned the hug with a few pats to Dean's back.
Removing himself from Dean's hold, Sam revealed who he had hidden behind his back.
"The fuck are you doing here?" Dean snarled.
Gabriel just snorted. He was sitting cross-legged and cross-armed on a chair next to the table Sam was obviously occupying. "I'm here to see your brother, Dean."
"And why the hell are you here to see my brother?" Dean bit. He tried to move closer to the irksome man, but Sam held him by the arm.
"I need his help with something," Gabriel replied nonchalantly.
"And what the fuck would you need his help with?" Dean did his best to tower above the short guy. They were usually in good terms with each other, but Dean found himself getting impatient every time Gabriel was somewhere near his brother.
Gabriel just clicked his tongue. Standing up, he taunted Dean in the face. "Don't you know, Deano," he said with a pat on Dean's cheek. Dean would have knocked some teeth off that smug face if Sam didn't hold him back. "Sharing is sexy."
Dean hurled his fist but Sam grabbed it tight.
"Gabe, just leave, please," Sam said wearily.
"Gabe?" Dean turned to scorn Sam after the irritating shorty went out of sight. "Since when have you two been on a nickname basis?"
"Dean, you're being ridiculous," Sam glared. "He's a friend, you know that."
"Yeah, a pervert friend who tried to get into your pants," Dean huffed. It was obvious what type of men Gabriel favoured. It was unnerving that the type exactly matched his brother's. "Did you know he gave us free porn the other day?" Dean feigned a gag.
"I know," Sam returned with an awkward gulp. Dean gaped. How could Sammy know that shit? "He told me. He also told me of your free little porno as well."
Dean felt his face burn. He was so going to kill that big-mouth bastard!
"How are you holding up?" Sam changed the subject.
"I'm doing okay," Dean replied, softening up at the genuine concern in Sam's voice. "So, what've you got?"
Sam opened the few files that looked like police reports on the table. "Meet Castiel Milton," Sam said, turning a full-face photo of Cas Dean's way. "35-year-old primary school teacher. Resident of Sacramento, California. Divorced. Parents Mark and Alena Milton, murdered three years ago. One younger sister, Anna Milton. Clean record. Never busted once until he murdered two men three states away."
But Dean could hardly concentrate. He wanted to give a thank you kiss to whoever chose Cas photo for the file. His face was bright with crisp jawlines and kissable cleft chin dusted with contrasting dark fuzz. His eyes were heavenly blue and his hair a mess that begged to be ruffled. He had no tense creases or sorry droop that he sported these days. Dean idly wondered if he could keep the photo.
Dean was jabbed back to reality by Sam poking a finger at the corner of his lips. "Don't drool on my photo," he teased.
"Bitch," Dean snorted, tossing the photo back to Sam.
Sam caught the sliding photo with one hand. "Jerk," he came back.
"So, uh," Dean continued, waving one finger. "Anything on Anna?"
"Yes," Sam replied with a sigh, handing Dean a photo of a red-haired girl. "Anna Milton. 29. Single. She owns a small restaurant in Sacramento. The Milton's siblings were born and raised in Chino, California. They moved to the capital after Anna dropped out of a med school, where they ran the restaurant together until Castiel got married in 2007. He then went into teaching and never returned to work at the restaurant even after the divorce."
Dean nodded. He wondered if Sam knew if Cas was seeing anyone at the moment, but he dared not ask.
"What do you know about the murder?"
Sam took out a file from under the pile then opened it, revealing crime scene photos. Dean sifted through them. They were horrendous scenes, Dean thought, and he had his fair share of all things horrendous. Two men were lying in a dark pool of blood, limbs twisting artfully, internal organs gushing out of their torsos. Dean's face contorted as he felt the disgusting taste of bile rise up in his throat.
"Don't tell me Cas did all of this?" Dean asked, his voice so hoarse and rough Dean felt like it was scraping the inside of his mouth.
"Unfortunately that's what he said," Sam replied with a small sigh. He could tell Dean didn't take it too well. "Found a strand of hair on one of the vic's bodies. DNA matched Castiel's and he confessed to everything. Case closed."
But Dean wasn't listening. The horrible images of the crime scene wouldn't leave the back of his eyes even though he looked at them for less than a minute. Surely his angel couldn't do any of this - a man so naïve he made Ken doll a male stripper. He believed Cas did not do it. There was no fucking way-
"Dean, you okay?" Sam cut Dean's train of thoughts.
Dean cleared his throat to hide the awkwardness of getting caught drifting away. "Yeah, uh, who are these guys?" he asked.
"Darryl Halligan and Gary Navarra. Both just moved here last year. Darryl was a gardener and Gary a paramedic. No connection to the Milton's whatsoever. According to his statement, Castiel said he met these two at a bar, followed them home and killed them."
Dean kneaded his temples. "Does any of this make any sense to you?" He asked with narrowed eyes. Sam shook his head slightly in response. "He drove three states away from his comfort zone just to follow some random guys home and kill them?"
Seeing Dean fidgeting nervously, Sam said what he hoped would be reassuring. "I'll keep looking into it, okay?"
But Dean's mind was racing. He was struggling to draw logic out of illogical dots. "You said his parents were murdered?" asked Dean. Sam nodded. "Did the police find any connection?"
"I don't think the police did anything much after he confessed, Dean," Sam said. "They got the evidence, and then he confessed. It was pretty open and closed. As far as the police were concerned there was nothing left to investigate."
Stupid police, Dean scoffed. There were good reasons why he never liked them. "You look into that too," he ordered his little brother. "And go visit Anna. She might be able to give us something."
Dean was nervous. There was so much work to do. He wished he were outside so he could help Sam.
"Dean," Sam blurted. "Are we assuming Castiel is not guilty here?"
"We are not assuming," Dean said, slightly irritated. He knew Cas was not guilty. He couldn't tell why. He had been with more than enough scumbags to be able to rate them in different scales just by a look or a single interaction, and Cas fell into the minus zero zones. But that was not why he believed Castiel wasn't guilty. There was something - the same force that drawn him to Cas - that told him Cas could not be behind these murders. And Dean felt like he grew a vagina just at the thought of it. "We are going to prove that Cas is not guilty."
Sam just stared at him. After a while, he softened up. "Okay," he said. Dean was grateful, even though deep down he knew Sam agreed only to appease him. "I'll get Jo to help."
Dean overtly cringed at the name so that Sam knew he was not too thrilled with the idea. But this was for Cas, and he would swallow his dick down for him. "Yeah, you do that," he finally said.
"Dean," Sam called again, looking up from under his fringe. Dean knew it meant something very serious was coming his way. "Is he a liability to you?"
"What? No!" Dean winced suddenly.
"We didn't want to get you a cellmate, but you know how prison population is getting more and more crowded. It's inevitable. So we chose the one who seemed to be the most docile for you, but if he's causing you any trouble-"
"No!" Dean cut him off.
"But he just landed you in lockdown!" Sam wouldn't back down.
"I said no!" Dean retorted more harshly. Sam pursed his lips. "You do what I said. Nothing else. Got it?"
If Sam got it, he didn't show. Instead he gave Dean his infamous bitch face, but that was really all Dean needed.
"Where's my pie?" Dean diverted Sam's attention.
Sam gave another bitch face before turning to fetch it out of his messenger bag. He placed a box of a pie on the table. Dean shot a look at a prison guard nearby, who happened to find the far side of the room interesting all of a sudden. He shoved the box under his shirt and got up.
"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said, giving his brother a loose hug for fear the pie would be crushed.
"Yeah, Dean," Sam returned. "See you in a few days."
"You be good," Dean kept his gaze at his little brother. Cheesy as it was, he found the most difficult time in prison was actually the time he had to say goodbye to his brother after each visit.
"You too," Sam said, tugging both his hands in his pants pockets, watching as Dean walked away. Then he realised he missed something.
"Dean, wait." Sam ran up to Dean, pulling him closer by the arm. He kept his voice low. "Bobby sends his love," Sam started with something sweeter first. "And Ellen said her offer still stands."
As Sam had expected, Dean tensed at the mention of it. He always did, every time. But then he thought of that little ball of blanket he saw on the lower bed this morning, and his tension died away.
"I'll think about it," he said before turning to walk away.
Sam actually gaped, then beamed at him. At least Dean got the two people he cared about most to genuinely smile today and the best apple pie in the state tucked under his shirt. If only good days such as this came more often.
~:~:~
Once Dean stepped out of the visiting room, he saw Gabriel was there waiting for him. Dean stopped, and the prison guard who escorted him stopped a few steps away.
"Got a present for you," Gabriel said, rising up from the wall he was leaning on and handing Dean a book. Dean took it and smirked. 'The Ultimate Guide to Muscle Car Restoration' spread across the cover. So this was what Gabe got from his brother for him.
"Thanks," he said with a wide grin.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "No, you idiot," he scorned. Then he reached out to the book, peeling off the dust jacket, revealing a book titled 'A Guide for Partners of a Rape Survivor' inside.
"The hell?" Dean muttered with a frown.
"Like I would actually get you a book for you to enjoy," Gabriel explained with exasperation. "I only put that on the cover because I know this way Castiel won't pry on it."
But Dean hardly listened as he flipped open to the table of contents page. It listed topics on rape trauma syndrome, coping after sexual assaults, tips on what to say and not to say, how to handle difficult situations, etc. Dean was lost for words. He didn't realise there would be so many effects. Cas seemed okay for the most part.
"Look," Gabriel said in a serious voice. "I love that kid like I do my own brother. You treat him right, or I swear to God I'll slit your throat," he threatened. Dean gulped. He was not usually intimidated by the guy, but Dean didn't think he'd try to get him angry. "I may not succeed, but at least I'll die trying."
Dean nodded. Once Gabriel was satisfied, he walked away, leaving Dean to stand speechless in the corridor clutching the thick book.
~:~:~
"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted the dark-haired man who was sitting reading on his bed, relieved to see it wasn't the book Gabriel gave him this morning. It was past dinnertime and the first time they had seen each other since they parted this morning.
"Hello, Dean," Cas quickly closed the book and jumped to his feet. Dean thought the guy would scoot over to him, but he ended up shuffling on his feet.
"Take it you like reading," Dean said, nodding to the book abandoned on the bed. Dean felt Cas' eyes following him as he walked over to throw the towel on his bunk.
"I'm sorry I took your book without permission," Cas mumbled and fidgeted nervously.
"It's okay, Cas," Dean said, turning to the guy next to him with an assuring grin. "You can take any book from the shelf. I won't mind." Then he told himself to find somewhere else to keep that 'Muscle Car' book.
"Thank you," Cas said softly, keeping his gaze down at the floor.
Dean inwardly sighed. Cas still seemed afraid of him and honestly that was the last thing Dean wanted.
"Can you recite a poem?" Dean asked.
"What?" Cas snapped his head up at the sudden question.
"I said, can you recite a poem?" Dean repeated with a smile, one arm draping over the top bunk while the other resting on his hip in what he hoped was a seemingly comfortable posture.
"A few," Cas replied vacantly, but he kept piercing his gaze into Dean as if he could figure out why Dean asked just by looking deep enough into his eyes.
"Show me," Dean said firmly, a hint of dare in his voice.
Cas opened his mouth as if he was going to ask why, but he swallowed it down. Instead, he set off with a line, "She walks in beauty-"
"Not that one," Dean cut him off rudely, and Cas' voice faltered. His gaze fell to the floor once again.
"Oh, no, no," Dean stuttered and mentally bit his tongue that slipped off faster than his wit. How could he tell Cas that he was being a dick because he didn't want to hear him ponder over some beautiful woman?
"You know it's not very wise to talk about sexy ladies around here," Dean said cautiously. "Try another one."
Cas just nodded, took a deep breath, before he began again:
"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,"
"Lower your voice," Dean interrupted.
"What?" Cas stumbled with a baffling look on his face.
"Continue, but in softer voice," Dean instructed.
Cas frowned, but he lowered his voice, and continued,
"As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more.'"
"Lower," Dean said again, but this time Cas did not stop. He just continued in an even lower voice.
"Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor."
"Yeah, keep your voice at this level," Dean said, and Cas only returned with a tilt of his head, while kept reciting his narrative poem.
"Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore."
Cas' slowly came to a stop over the last couple of lines. His voice was soft and sad as if it hurt him just to think of what was happening in the poem.
So Dean didn't push him further. Instead, he said, "Remember to keep your voice at this level when we talk, okay?" Last thing Dean needed was for others to pry into their private business, and he fully intended to get more and more private with Castiel.
"But this is barely a whisper," Cas said tensely.
Dean grinned. He bent over and purred into Cas' ear, "Then you'll have to lean in a little closer."
Cas' ear went red, and Dean couldn't suppress his laughter.
After his laughter died down, Dean climbed up his bed to retrieve a set of handcuffs from the back of his shelf, but when Dean moved back down, Cas had retreated to the far end of the bed, his face as pale as a ghost.
"Whoa." Dean lifted his hands up, the handcuffs hanging loosely in one of them. "Cas, I'm not going to hurt you."
But Cas was still shaking. He fixed his gaze at the handcuffs in Dean's hand.
"I'm going to put them down, okay?" Dean said, slowly placing the handcuffs down on the lower bed, closer to the end, closer to Cas.
Once the handcuffs were on the bed and Dean's hands were up in the air again, Cas shifted his eyes to Dean. His voice was low and breaking when he asked, "What is it for?"
"I'm going to teach you how to pick the lock," Dean replied. "It's a survival technique, Cas. You need to know how; it could be a matter of life and death."
Cas loosened his grip on the bed pole a little, but still not moving.
"Look, I have a key here," Dean said, showing a tiny key in his palm. "You keep it."
He offered the key to Cas, but Cas did not move until Dean prompted one more time. He quickly grabbed the key away from Dean's hand, then retreated back to the end of the bed.
"You try it," Dean said, nodding towards the handcuffs on the bed. He remained still, hands holding up in plain sight to show Cas that he had no intention of hurting him.
Cas hesitated for a long moment. Then he grabbed the handcuffs and stood as far from Dean as he could. He fumbled with it and after a few tries could get a cuff to spring free from its lock. He looked back at Dean who smiled back at him.
"Are we good?" Dean asked.
Cas reluctantly nodded. He handed the cuffs back to Dean, but kept the key securely with himself.
Dean took them and sat down on the lower bed, his legs dangling off the edge.
"Come sit here," Dean beckoned Cas over.
Cas shuffled for a brief moment more, then he came sitting next to Dean. He was surprised at how close Cas pressed into his side: their thighs touching, their arms overlapping each other.
If anything, Dean was pleased rather than awkward at the close proximity.
Dean took out a paperclip and stretched it in front of him for Cas to see. "Okay, you have a paperclip here," he instructed. "Stick it into the lock, bend it this way until you got a hook like this." Dean showed him the clip that now turned into a small L-shape metal pin. "Now put it in the other way and tweak it." One of the cuffs clicked open. "See? It's easy," Dean said with a triumphant grin. "You want to try?"
He offered the cuffs and a new paperclip to Cas, who took them with shaky hands. He followed what Dean did, and after a few clumsy tries, the cuffs slid off from its lock. A big smile crept up on his face as he handed the cuffs back to Dean.
"Good," Dean said proudly. They still needed to practice picking it while the cuffs was actually on them, not in the air, but Dean guessed that was for another time.
"You want to keep these?" He asked, thinking Cas might feel more comfortable if he had control over them, but Cas shook his head.
"Okay," Dean said. "You can keep the key. Just don't lose it, okay?"
"Okay," Cas replied softly.
"I've got something for you." Dean tapped on Cas' knee before getting up to put the handcuffs away. He was glad Cas didn't ask how he got them in the first place. It was purely for Cas' educational purpose, he wouldn't want to be in a possession of something that could get him and its owner in trouble.
Brushing the thoughts away, Dean grinned upon seeing the box of apple pie he had kept since his meeting with Sam this morning. He took the box and sat back down next to his cellmate, slowly opening the box in front of them as if he was about to open a treasure chest. Dean was thrilled upon seeing the golden top of the pie, even if it was aligned to one side due to the position Dean carried it back to their cell. He was even more thrilled when he saw the look on Cas' face. His eyes went wide and Dean swore Cas was gulping.
"The best apple pie in the state," Dean whispered into Cas' ear.
Cas turned his gaze to Dean. He was barely able to hide his excitement. "How did you get this?" he asked.
"My brother visited me today," Dean gave an awkward reply that thankfully Cas did not notice. He left out the part that it was actually a violation of the rules to bring outside food into their cell, and for that Dean was glad Sam didn't ask why he wanted a whole pie instead of a piece he could finish up in the visiting room as usual.
"Come on. Let's try it." Dean handed a plastic fork to Cas. "No plate or knife so let's forget table manners, shall we?"
Cas just grinned a genuinely happy grin at him and Dean felt like his appetite had already been sated even without the help of his favourite dessert.
Dean ducked his head away to hide the blush he knew he had on his cheeks. He stuck his fork into the pie, scooped up a mouthful, and shoved the pie into his mouth. He couldn't help the strangled moan that escaped his lips the moment the fruity delight touched his tongue. Castiel's gaze followed his movements in awe, and Dean almost choked on his pie because at this moment Cas looked more like he wanted to savour Dean than the dessert itself.
Coughing, Dean gestured towards the pie and Cas tore his gaze away shyly. He put the fork into the pie tentatively, before taking up a small bite and he fucking moaned when the pie got into his mouth. Dean held his breath. Now he knew why Cas looked like he was going to eat Dean alive, because the pie maybe scrumptious, but Cas with pie was sure as hell a hundred times more.
It took all of Dean's effort to shift his focus back to the pie. He savaged the tempting creation like his life depended on it. Castiel took his bites more steadily, not as harsh as Dean did, but also did not stop.
"You know what goes best with apple pie?" Dean asked casually, whirling the plastic fork in the air.
"First flush Darjeeling-"
"Vanilla ice cream-" They both said at the same time.
"The hell is first flush… whatever?" Dean cried.
The corner of Cas' mouth just curled up into a pretty smile. "Darjeeling is a kind of tea, Dean," Castiel said fondly, in the hushed tone Dean had trained him to. "First flush means it is plucked in the first growing season of the year, usually following spring rains."
Dean hummed and nodded approvingly. "Sounds nice."
"It is nice." Cas flashed another smile.
The sight was endearing. It compelled Dean to think maybe all he ever needed was a smile on Cas' face. He looked at Cas who continued eating obliviously and Dean felt everything he ever did and gave up was all worth it - his struggles, his fights, his sacrifices.
"You should try to eat more," Dean said softly, lifting a hand to gently stroke Cas' dark hair. "I know the food here is unbearable most of the time, but I can't sneak in burgers everyday if I wanted to."
Talking about burgers, Dean could think of three different joints within a thirty-mile radius of where they were that served really, really good burgers. How nice would it be if he could take Cas there. He was very sure Cas would love it, even though he did not know whether Cas liked burger or not.
Cas put his fork down. He turned to look Dean directly in the eyes. "Thank you, Dean," he said. "I'll try to eat more."
Dean stroked Cas' hair a few times more with a smile. He knew Cas wasn't lying. He was easier to read than a book for first-graders.
"You full?" Dean asked. There was still quite a large portion left in the box.
Cas nodded.
"We can finish this tomorrow," Dean closed the lid and got up to put the pie away. Just then the main light went out, signalling time for bed. When Dean got his feet back to the ground and turned back, Cas was plastered to him. Lips crashed and Dean had only a brief moment to slide his arms around Cas' waist before he was pressed back to the ladder.
Cas licked at his lips and Dean was more than willing to give him the access he needed. Cas' tongue slid in instantly and Dean thought he might overdose on sugar just by the sweetness of it. He could taste apples and butter and cinnamon in his mouth. Judging by the moans in Cas' throat, Dean assumed he could taste the same thing on him too. They might have just found a more mouth-watering way to finish their leftover pie.
Cas pulled away to catch his breath. His face was flushed hot; his eyes clouded in a daze. "Tell your brother," he rasped, "I said thank you."
"Sure thing," Dean replied with a smirk.
Castiel pushed himself off Dean. He reached up to grab the blanket from Dean's bed and threw it on his bed. Dean grabbed the pillow and both of them settled on the lower bed as though it was a very normal thing for them to do.
They lied facing each other when Cas asked, "Does your brother come here often?"
Dean chuckled. "When he can."
"What does he do?"
"Sam's a lawyer," was Dean's prepared answer. He hated having to lie to Cas, but he couldn't give out what they actually did, at least not while they were in this place. "What about you? You got any siblings too?"
"Yes, I have a younger sister, Anna."
Dean thought he sounded sad when he replied. Sam didn't say Anna was dead, so she must still be alive, but why did Cas have nightmares about his sister? Dean wondered if he could ask what Cas dreamed of, or whether he could mention the dream at all.
"Is she coming to visit you?" Dean pretended to ask innocently.
Cas ducked his head down, picking at the hem of Dean's shirt. "We're not close," he said softly but also firmly. Dean took the hint that meant Cas no longer wished to discuss this topic.
"We should get some sleep," Dean suggested and shifted so that Cas could snuggle into him. They lied there comfortably together. It was peaceful. However, it was quickly interrupted by the feeling of Cas trembling in his arms.
"Cas, you alright?" Dean asked, worried when he looked at the man below him through dim light.
The smaller man shook his head. He clutched Dean's top tightly and wiggled closer into him. His voice was broken when he looked up and begged, "Dean, please."
But Dean could hear the unspoken plea. Dean, please, help me. It was as clear as his own voice in his head. Cas was breaking, and he needed his help, and Dean was going to help him any way he could.
"Okay," Dean said, slowly climbing on top of Cas. For some reason, Cas seemed to find it comforting when he could feel Dean's weight on him. Cas pulled Dean down for a hurried kiss, his hips bucking up in frantic lunges.
"Cas, Cas, stop."
Because as much as Dean wanted it, he had to make sure he was really helping Cas, and not hurting him.
Cas slowly quieted down, his eyes blowing with mixed emotions when he looked at Dean - really, really looked at Dean - with expectations and trust that Dean knew he did not deserve.
"Listen to me," Dean started. "We need to set some rules if we are doing this, okay?"
Cas nodded. Dean could feel Cas' chest heave eagerly beneath him.
"You have to take the lead," Dean blurted. It felt weird coming from him, but this was for Cas. He repeated to himself. This was for Cas. "You tell me what you want and I'll do it. You tell me what you don't want and I'll stop. No question asked. Deal?"
He felt Cas trying to shift beneath him, but he couldn't move much under his weight. So instead, Cas tilted his head and frowned. After a long while, he slowly nodded.
"Say it." Dean had to make sure that he and Cas were on the same page.
"I'll tell you what I want," Cas drew the words out carefully, blue eyes searching his for reassurance. "I'll tell you what I don't want."
"Good," Dean said firmly. "Now kiss me."
At the invitation, Cas instantly crashed his lips with Dean's. He gripped Dean's top tight and pulled him flushed against himself. Dean glided his hips lower, feeling Cas' growing erection against him.
It was a good thing (out of wrong means, Dean chided himself) that he knew what Cas liked, that he knew how to make Cas come undone underneath him.
But still, he needed to ask.
"What do you want, angel?" Dean hummed under Cas' jawbone where his neck met, the angle Dean knew, if he sucked, would send Cas' body shuddering. But instead of a shudder, Cas stiffened. Dean immediately stopped.
He pulled back slightly before asking, "You alright?"
Cas didn't shake his head, but he was restless. He kept fidgeting with Dean's top, eyes glancing from side to side. It took a moment before Cas finally said, "Please don't call me angel."
Dean was taken aback. But you are my angel, he wanted to argue. His days had been dull and boring, but since Castiel appeared in his life, they began to shine. Loneliness and pain were no longer something intolerable. All the pretentious nonsense Dean used to be so proud of became pointless. Cas had shown him a new meaning to life - to living.
But this was for Cas, Dean repeated to himself, and it was a good thing Cas could talk about what he did not want.
"Okay," Dean said. "How about," leaning himself down, he purred into Cas' ear, "baby?"
Cas shrieked. There was no other word to describe that high-pitched laughter that slipped through Cas' lips. Cas was grinning, rubbing his ear on his shoulder. "That tickles," he said, blushing.
Dean couldn't help the grin on his face. Cas' smile was contagious. But that was new. He never knew Cas was ticklish at any point.
"What tickles?" Dean purred into Cas' ear again, "this?" But Cas just gasped in response. "Or," Dean trailed, "honey?"
Cas shrieked again.
Dean grinned wickedly. "Sugar? Sweetheart?" He bombarded Cas' ear with sweet, endearing terms. Cas wouldn't stop laughing and brushing his ear. "Darling? Pumpkin?" Dean was getting more amused. If anything, his heart fluttered at how happy Cas was, at how he could wipe the weariness off Cas' face. "Love?"
Dean was suddenly pushed on his back and Cas straddled his waist. He leaned down to kiss Dean hungrily. It was full of passion, of possessiveness, of desperate yearning.
Cas pulled away and took off his own shirt. He sat back, staring at his hands that were placed on Dean's chest. It was as if he was looking, but didn't see.
"Cas?" Dean placed a hand on Cas' arm with caution. Above him, Cas' pale chest was flushed with heat.
Castiel curled his fingers into Dean's top and pulled. Dean pushed up on his elbows, but Cas pulled again, backing a little away so Dean could sit up. He nudged Dean to the side and Dean moved so his back leaned against the wall.
Straddling him, Cas slowly sat back down until Dean could feel Cas' erection against his. Then he swung, a slow, slight back-and-forth movement of his hips that sent Dean's whole body shuddering. Dean placed his arms on the curve of Cas' back that was now arching like a graceful feline. Cas' wiry arms shook as he gingerly dragged his hard cock over Dean's - up and down - whimpering little mewing noises as he did so. Dean held his breath. It was the only way Dean could stop himself from bucking his hips into Cas, or pressing Cas' hips onto him.
Then Cas stopped. He simply slotted himself onto Dean's body, wrapped his arms around him, and placed his head on Dean's shoulder.
Dean let out the breath he had been holding and leaned his head back on the wall. Tonight was going to be a very long night.
"I…" Cas spoke. His voice was the hoarsest of hoarse, as if his vocal cord hadn't been used in a very long time. He mouthed something again; Dean could feel his lips moving against his collarbone, but it was inaudible.
"I'm not a whore," Cas whispered after a long while.
Dean grimaced and felt like he wanted to bang his head on the wall, hard, several times. He recalled having called Cas that on a few occasions, but it was all done on the spur of the moment - a very, very bad one.
"Of course you're not," Dean said remorsefully. "I'm sorry I said that to you. I didn't mean it, and I won't say it again," Dean reassured him.
Cas pushed himself up so he was now again sitting in front of Dean. The neon light glistened the trail of tears on Cas' cheek and Dean wiped them away with his thumb.
If only he could wipe away the damage as well.
"So…" Dean was going to ask if Cas wanted to sleep or continue, but Cas grabbed Dean's hand and quickly shoved it into his pants.
This time it was Dean who gasped.
He curled his fingers around Cas' hard-on, thumb smearing leaking precum. Cas' breath hitched as he lifted his hips up slightly, one hand pressing on Dean's chest for balance. Dean used his free hand to slip Cas' pants down his thigh, revealing his smooth-as-silk ass. Dean sped up his pace and, in response, Cas squirmed prettily, mewing those soft little noises next to his ear. Dean took it his challenge to turn this cute kitten into a wildcat.
But then Cas tore himself away. Dean almost groaned, thinking Cas wanted to stop, again. Instead, Cas removed his pants all the way off his feet. He lied down on the bed, pulling Dean down with him. Turning his back to Dean, Cas pulled one of Dean's hand over his hip to his cock. Dean immediately continued where he left off, but Cas reached his arm to pull Dean leg over him, so now half of Dean's body was draping over his. A position Dean was most grateful as his neglected erection was pressed tight on the small of Cas' back.
Cas tried to turn his face backwards. "Kiss me," he said softly. Dean propped up on his elbow and leaned over to give Cas a sloppy, open-mouth kiss, pressing more of his weight on him. Cas reached out his arm to clutch behind Dean's neck, pulling him in and devouring his tongue and lips like he had been famished.
Dean increased the pace on his fist and Cas bucked up into it, his hips frantically crushing on Dean's hard cock. He twisted his wrist, eliciting from Cas smutty groans that Dean swallowed down his throat.
Cas let go of Dean's head and turned to clutch tightly at the bed sheet, his breaths becoming erratic and his groans pressing as he fucked into Dean's hand, grinding his ass on Dean's cock with frenzied plunges.
Dean forced his weight on Cas again, squashing his erection on the back of Cas' ass because he, too, was desperate to come. Cas chose that moment to go rigid, spilling on Dean's hand and onto the mattress.
Resting his head on Cas' shoulder, Dean helped him emptying his load. Cas still looked bedazzled when Dean flopped back down on the bed, panting hard, breathless from their vigorous activity.
When Dean got up again, Cas had already fallen asleep, curling on his side. He rose to find the clothes that had been tossed God knows where. They might be needed if Cas woke up in the middle of the night because of the chill. Grabbing Cas' clothes and blankets, Dean settled back down, spooning Cas in his arms. His painful erection was still there, but he would take care of that later - or maybe not. He had given Cas a choice and Cas had chosen. It was, honest-to-God, the least of Dean's problems right now. He had an angel to protect - from both waking and sleeping nightmares - and that was all that mattered.
~:~:~
A/N: The first poem Cas recited was by Lord Byron. The second poem was The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. Thank you for reading!