Fic: Chase the Light (Dean/Gabriel)
Another wishlist fic!
For morganoconner. Hope you like it!
Dean has disturbing dreams about Castiel and Gabriel needs a bit of help getting out of purgatory. More Dean/Gabriel/Castiel pre-slash than anything. About ~1300 words and beta'd by puchuupoet.
Chase the Light
**
A sharp wolf whistle cuts through the club, echoing off gleaming poles and shiny drinks and gyrating dancers. Dean ignores it. In a place like this, it's not exactly unusual, even if it is a little sharper than normal, cutting through the thrumming base of the music. There's just no chance is he looking away from the scene in front of him, at his angel playing the virgin stripper like a fucking pro. Cas is bendy and Dean wonders if all angels are double jointed. Mostly he wonders if he can rip the fake fluffy wings off Cas's back and free the real things.
Warm breath puffs over his ear and Dean is about to wave the waitress off (or maybe ask if Cas is available for private showings), when a deeper than expected voice whispers, “Impressive but he's still got nothing on me, sweet cakes.” And big hands slide down around his shoulders.
Dean's whole chest feels like it seizes up and he bolts forward out of his chair, away from those hands and that unwelcome familiar voice. He spins and finds Gabriel just standing there, same old smirk and same old laughing eyes, same ‘don't fuck with me’ stance. Same mask. “And I'm dreaming. Or having a nightmare because you wouldn't be staring in my dreams.” He glances back at Castiel, who's just standing there now, watching them with head tilted and looking a little irritated at the disruption. Cas leers at him when Dean makes eye contact and it's not as hot as it was a second ago. “Please tell me you're not gonna get up there with him.”
Gabriel laughs and the sudden sound makes Dean realize that everything else around them has stopped. The music, the sexy waitresses. All of it. “Not this time, kiddo. And you're not dreaming.” While Dean tries to figure out what a very dead archangel is doing walking around in his head, Gabriel gives Castiel a once over and then waves his hand. “We need a little alone time.” And the entire strip club turns into an empty bar, two shots of whiskey lined up on the counter before them.
It takes him a minute but Dean slides onto the stool beside Gabriel and then Gabriel pushes the shot across to him. He holds it between his fingers but he's not so sure if getting drunk in his mind is the best way to deal with the situation. “So...back from the dead?” Dean says as conversational as possible since it doesn't look like Gabriel is ready to talk quite yet.
Sure enough, Gabriel shrugs, downs his shot and conjures up another one, taking his time over answering. “Nah. Still got my seat down in purgatory.”
Dean snorts, finally lifts the whiskey to his lips to sip. “Man, I am so sick of hearing about that place.”
“Try being in it.” Gabriel says it with his usual amount of bravado but Dean's not buying that shit after their last conversation. And not after Gabriel downs a third shot of whiskey that presumably won't do anything cause dream and archangel.
At least Dean knows how to deal with someone that essentially isn't that different from himself, the old takes one to know one adage. Dean sits there, sips at his finger of whiskey and waits for the silence to force Gabriel into getting to the point. Sure enough and it isn't long before Gabriel starts looking nervous and fidgety, gearing up to the reason he felt the need to ruin Dean's nighttime adventures - which, considering they involved Cas humping a stripper pole, Dean might thank him for later.
“You asked me for help once,” Gabriel says and Dean looks at him from the corner of his eye.
“Guess so.”
“Now I need your help.”
Dean turns to face him, arm sliding along the counter of the bar to lean on and raises his eyebrows. “You're dead.”
“Please, you of all people know that's not a sticking point.”
“Okay, then how about; You're stuck in purgatory which is filled with crazy soulless things and no one seems to have any idea where it is.”
“I can tell you where it is,” Gabriel interjects so quickly, Dean knows they’re getting to the point and the archangel clears his throat and glances down. “There's fire. Everywhere. And I can't hide from it forever.” When he looks up, Dean thinks he might see the flames reflected in Gabriel's eyes, catching him until he stares deeper.
It's a great chasm filled with flames. The tendrils twist together and chase down and engulf the soulless until it leaves them nothing; cracked and empty and pure. The smoke is thick and choking, Gabriel's wings are stained black from it.
Dean jerks back with a gasp, finds Gabriel's face inches from his own and Gabriel reaches out to grab his wrist before Dean can pull away further. “I need you to come get me out.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“You have a soul. Purgatory can't hurt you; it won't even notice you're there. Get in, get out, and take me with you.”
“Fuck, Gabe, I can't just-”
“I'm not asking.” Gabriel tugs hard on Dean's wrist, jerking Dean from his seat, stumbling forward until he all but literally falls onto Gabriel's mouth. Startled enough to part his lips, Gabriel is there to take advantage, hand cupping the back of Dean's head until fuck if Dean can do anything but respond. Gabriel's tongue in his mouth and then something cold, something like liquid dripping down the back of his throat. A thin strand of silver stretches between their mouths as Gabriel pulls back, snapping when he nudges Dean back a step.
“What the fuck?” Dean snaps, wiping his hand over his mouth but the silver is gone and that sensation of cold is sliding down his throat and settling like a lump in his chest that makes him shiver.
“Grace.” Gabriel has that smirk back to his tone, eyes clear of fire now. He touches his fingertips to Dean's chest, right over the cold spot and a strand of silver follows as he draws back. This time it doesn't break, staying stretched between them and Dean gets the uncomfortable feeling he's just been put on a leash. “Follow this, Deano, and it'll take you right to me.”
“You're kidding me-”
“Dean.”
“Fine! Fine...don't need to beg.”
Gabriel grins at him. “You were always my favourite.” He drags Dean forward and this time it's just lips and tongue and no grace. “Don't take too long,” Gabriel murmurs against his mouth. “And, uh, might want to confront my little brother about sneaking around in your dreams. And possibly admit that you both watch too much porn.”
He snaps his fingers and both of them look to side to find Castiel, whose looking anywhere but at them though Dean is just glad the fluffy white wings are gone and the trench coat is back.
Gabriel laughs, loud and relieved. “Cas'll lend you a hand. Won't you, bro?”
Castiel looks at them with an effort, chest heaving on a sigh. “Of course.”
“It's okay if you need to take thirty with each other first.” He makes it a point as he leaves to brush close to Castiel and slap his ass on the way out.
In his wake, Dean can see the thin silver chord that stretches between them, winding away into nothing. He shares a look with Castiel, who gives him that inscrutable stare like it's not a surprise Gabriel is here and like he's not embarrassed to be so abruptly outed in Dean's dreams.
“Right. Guess it's time to follow the yellow brick road, Dorothy.”
Castiel just frowns.
For morganoconner. Hope you like it!
Dean has disturbing dreams about Castiel and Gabriel needs a bit of help getting out of purgatory. More Dean/Gabriel/Castiel pre-slash than anything. About ~1300 words and beta'd by puchuupoet.
Chase the Light
**
A sharp wolf whistle cuts through the club, echoing off gleaming poles and shiny drinks and gyrating dancers. Dean ignores it. In a place like this, it's not exactly unusual, even if it is a little sharper than normal, cutting through the thrumming base of the music. There's just no chance is he looking away from the scene in front of him, at his angel playing the virgin stripper like a fucking pro. Cas is bendy and Dean wonders if all angels are double jointed. Mostly he wonders if he can rip the fake fluffy wings off Cas's back and free the real things.
Warm breath puffs over his ear and Dean is about to wave the waitress off (or maybe ask if Cas is available for private showings), when a deeper than expected voice whispers, “Impressive but he's still got nothing on me, sweet cakes.” And big hands slide down around his shoulders.
Dean's whole chest feels like it seizes up and he bolts forward out of his chair, away from those hands and that unwelcome familiar voice. He spins and finds Gabriel just standing there, same old smirk and same old laughing eyes, same ‘don't fuck with me’ stance. Same mask. “And I'm dreaming. Or having a nightmare because you wouldn't be staring in my dreams.” He glances back at Castiel, who's just standing there now, watching them with head tilted and looking a little irritated at the disruption. Cas leers at him when Dean makes eye contact and it's not as hot as it was a second ago. “Please tell me you're not gonna get up there with him.”
Gabriel laughs and the sudden sound makes Dean realize that everything else around them has stopped. The music, the sexy waitresses. All of it. “Not this time, kiddo. And you're not dreaming.” While Dean tries to figure out what a very dead archangel is doing walking around in his head, Gabriel gives Castiel a once over and then waves his hand. “We need a little alone time.” And the entire strip club turns into an empty bar, two shots of whiskey lined up on the counter before them.
It takes him a minute but Dean slides onto the stool beside Gabriel and then Gabriel pushes the shot across to him. He holds it between his fingers but he's not so sure if getting drunk in his mind is the best way to deal with the situation. “So...back from the dead?” Dean says as conversational as possible since it doesn't look like Gabriel is ready to talk quite yet.
Sure enough, Gabriel shrugs, downs his shot and conjures up another one, taking his time over answering. “Nah. Still got my seat down in purgatory.”
Dean snorts, finally lifts the whiskey to his lips to sip. “Man, I am so sick of hearing about that place.”
“Try being in it.” Gabriel says it with his usual amount of bravado but Dean's not buying that shit after their last conversation. And not after Gabriel downs a third shot of whiskey that presumably won't do anything cause dream and archangel.
At least Dean knows how to deal with someone that essentially isn't that different from himself, the old takes one to know one adage. Dean sits there, sips at his finger of whiskey and waits for the silence to force Gabriel into getting to the point. Sure enough and it isn't long before Gabriel starts looking nervous and fidgety, gearing up to the reason he felt the need to ruin Dean's nighttime adventures - which, considering they involved Cas humping a stripper pole, Dean might thank him for later.
“You asked me for help once,” Gabriel says and Dean looks at him from the corner of his eye.
“Guess so.”
“Now I need your help.”
Dean turns to face him, arm sliding along the counter of the bar to lean on and raises his eyebrows. “You're dead.”
“Please, you of all people know that's not a sticking point.”
“Okay, then how about; You're stuck in purgatory which is filled with crazy soulless things and no one seems to have any idea where it is.”
“I can tell you where it is,” Gabriel interjects so quickly, Dean knows they’re getting to the point and the archangel clears his throat and glances down. “There's fire. Everywhere. And I can't hide from it forever.” When he looks up, Dean thinks he might see the flames reflected in Gabriel's eyes, catching him until he stares deeper.
It's a great chasm filled with flames. The tendrils twist together and chase down and engulf the soulless until it leaves them nothing; cracked and empty and pure. The smoke is thick and choking, Gabriel's wings are stained black from it.
Dean jerks back with a gasp, finds Gabriel's face inches from his own and Gabriel reaches out to grab his wrist before Dean can pull away further. “I need you to come get me out.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“You have a soul. Purgatory can't hurt you; it won't even notice you're there. Get in, get out, and take me with you.”
“Fuck, Gabe, I can't just-”
“I'm not asking.” Gabriel tugs hard on Dean's wrist, jerking Dean from his seat, stumbling forward until he all but literally falls onto Gabriel's mouth. Startled enough to part his lips, Gabriel is there to take advantage, hand cupping the back of Dean's head until fuck if Dean can do anything but respond. Gabriel's tongue in his mouth and then something cold, something like liquid dripping down the back of his throat. A thin strand of silver stretches between their mouths as Gabriel pulls back, snapping when he nudges Dean back a step.
“What the fuck?” Dean snaps, wiping his hand over his mouth but the silver is gone and that sensation of cold is sliding down his throat and settling like a lump in his chest that makes him shiver.
“Grace.” Gabriel has that smirk back to his tone, eyes clear of fire now. He touches his fingertips to Dean's chest, right over the cold spot and a strand of silver follows as he draws back. This time it doesn't break, staying stretched between them and Dean gets the uncomfortable feeling he's just been put on a leash. “Follow this, Deano, and it'll take you right to me.”
“You're kidding me-”
“Dean.”
“Fine! Fine...don't need to beg.”
Gabriel grins at him. “You were always my favourite.” He drags Dean forward and this time it's just lips and tongue and no grace. “Don't take too long,” Gabriel murmurs against his mouth. “And, uh, might want to confront my little brother about sneaking around in your dreams. And possibly admit that you both watch too much porn.”
He snaps his fingers and both of them look to side to find Castiel, whose looking anywhere but at them though Dean is just glad the fluffy white wings are gone and the trench coat is back.
Gabriel laughs, loud and relieved. “Cas'll lend you a hand. Won't you, bro?”
Castiel looks at them with an effort, chest heaving on a sigh. “Of course.”
“It's okay if you need to take thirty with each other first.” He makes it a point as he leaves to brush close to Castiel and slap his ass on the way out.
In his wake, Dean can see the thin silver chord that stretches between them, winding away into nothing. He shares a look with Castiel, who gives him that inscrutable stare like it's not a surprise Gabriel is here and like he's not embarrassed to be so abruptly outed in Dean's dreams.
“Right. Guess it's time to follow the yellow brick road, Dorothy.”
Castiel just frowns.