SPN ficlet: And This Is How It Ends (Dean/Cas, NC-17, end!verse)

[the_diggler]

Title: And This Is How It Ends {from tumblr}
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/future!Cas, attempted Dean/future!Dean
Genre: End!verse, time!travel, temporal paradox, smut, angst.
Spoilers: only for episode 5x04
Warnings: bottom!Dean, rimming, rough sex, sexuality issues, attempted self-cest.
Word Count: 948
Summary: Dean's always been curious. And what better way to kill some time before they kill the Devil?
Author's Notes: It's so weird that it's actually 2014 now. I actually wrote "2014!Dean" until I realized how confusing that would be lol! Anyway, this started out as a fun little scenario that just popped into my head one morning... and then end!verse happened. Happy New Year :s
Disclaimer: Supernatural ain't mine. And I do not like being reminded of that sad fact.



~

It’s something he’s always been curious about, in the deep, dark, depths of his brain. Something he’s never really dared to air out and examine in the light. But hey, everyone’s thought about it at one point or another – what it would be like to have sex with yourself – another you or your clone or whatever – what it would be like to be fucked by someone who knows your body as well as you do. Everything you like, and everything you think you might like, but have never dared to try, or even ask for – all of that. And aside from the fact that he’s been transported five years into a worst-case-scenario future, all of that is pretty much all Dean can think about right now.

“So…” Dean begins, cocking an eyebrow at his future-self from across the cabin. They’ve got a couple of hours to kill before they hit the road. What the hell else are they going to do?

“Don’t even think about it,” future-Dean growls.

“What? Think what?” Dean immediately back-pedals, shrugging wide-eyed and innocent.

Like that even works on people who don’t already know exactly what he looks like when he’s lying through his teeth.

“Look,” future-Dean fixes him with that cold steel glare that seems to be his permanent expression in this time, “I remember what it was like to be you,” he says. “You’re soft. And I don’t have the patience to baby you through what you want.”

Dean sucks in sharp breath. “Oh,” he exhales, because he just doesn’t know what else to say to that. He’s not sure if he’s offended, or relieved that he’s being honest with himself for once… in a way.

Fuck it. Maybe he is soft. Because he can’t just sit here, alone in a cabin all night, staring at a gun and thinking about what he’s going to use it for in the morning. (It goes both ways, see. He recognizes the way his future-self is looking at that Colt. He’s going to follow their little brother, right back into Hell.)

“So you’re just going to sit here, all night?”

Future-Dean doesn’t even blink, or sigh, or fidget. He just takes a swig of his whiskey, and says, “Go see Cas. He knows what you want, just as well as I do. Maybe even better.”

Dean stumbles out of the cabin.

He doesn’t go to Cas, because, fuck, now there’s another thing in this fucked-up future he can barely wrap his head around. He wanders, aimlessly, weaving through the shadows of the camp as supplies are loaded and the last survivors of the human race huddle around fires, drinking, saying goodbye, both… Brothers in battle, friends, families, lovers

And then, he does find himself at Cas’ cabin… drawn up the stairs, stepping through the ridiculous beaded doorway, following the low candle-light towards Castiel’s bed. The beads are still tinkling behind him as he sits down on the mattress, but he doesn’t have to wonder how Cas stays warm at night with that open doorway – there’s still body-shaped indents on the sheets, and the air is still heavy with smoke and sweat and sex. Cas’ mouth tastes like Absinthe, and he offers Dean the near-empty bottle with a loose grin on his lips. Dean knows that would be enough to keep someone warm, even without company, but that’s not really the point of Absinthe, is it?

Dean finishes the rest of the bottle, and it isn’t long before the tinkling sound of Cas’ doorway makes him think of fairies. That, and the fact that Cas really does know everything his body likes. He knows just how Dean likes to kiss, slow and sloppy, and not afraid to use teeth. Though that could just be the result of the drink. But he knows just how Dean likes to be touched as well, light and teasing at first, then with a firm and confident grip. He knows just how to mouth the head of Dean’s cock, and kitten-lick at the precome at his slit, until Dean’s all but begging to be sucked down.

But Cas knows all the dirty little things Dean’s always suspected he’d like as well… Fingers, massaging his prostate, so good he begins fucking himself down on them even harder as he thrusts up into Cas’ mouth… The same kitten-licks on his other slit, making him writhe and thrust into the mattress beneath him as he buries his moans into a pillow… And then Castiel’s dick, filling him up the way he’s always wanted to be filled, but would never admit, fucking him so right he can barely breathe, muffling his screams so deep in the sheets.

What Dean doesn’t expect, is how much he likes having a hand fisted in his hair, pulling on the too-short strands with every thrust… The feel of stubble, scraping against that sensitive spot on his neck, right below his ear… And the gun-worn calluses, just this side of too-rough against the sensitive skin of his cock, as he comes harder than he ever has in his entire, pathetic life.

Afterwards, when Dean is lying sprawled and blissed-out across the bed, Cas chuckles, low and languid, and says, “So this is how it begins…”

But there’s something at the edge of Castiel’s laugh that tells him Cas is going to follow him – other him – straight into Hell. Again. And Dean thinks, no. This was just one night. One night to satisfy his curiosity. And while he is very… satisfied… Dean’s done with this dog-pile of a future, and he is not going to let things turn out like this.

Castiel sighs, rolling away. “…And this is how it ends.”

~ fin

So I won't be studying this year after all. Which means I'll still have lots of time to write, yay! I haven't forgotten This Is The Very Ecstasy, but there'll probably be a lot more random ficlets coming as well...