October drabble dump, Dean/Cas edition
It's a ritual. Dean tells himself he's checking for messages from Bobby, or other hunters, making sure that his family is safe. He tells himself that when he hears the voice say no new messages, he's relieved.
He keeps hoping he won't hear no new messages.
Occasionally he presses the number 4 on speed-dial -- 2 is Sam, 3 is Bobby -- and just listens to that bizarre message. He hangs up before the beep. Leaving a message to a phone that's no longer used would just be creepy.
No new messages for Cas either, then. Bastard. Just leaving him there. Alone in the car. When he thinks about it he still gets mad.
A piece of him says that he could get in touch, if he really wanted to. But he's not that kind of guy, he doesn't do that. Except when he's desperate, and he's not desperate yet.
---
Somewhere in heaven Castiel is disappointed that there are no new prayers.
Castiel is a whiny bastard when he's human, and when he's human in the summer it's worse. So Dean started hocking ice cubes at him about a half hour ago, and Castiel started placing them in interesting locations and then complaining some more about the heat, causing Dean to up the ante.
Now Castiel is still a whiny bastard but he's lying on his back on the bed with one lump of ice on his throat and another on his stomach, and water is running down his chest and arms where ice used to be, and Dean is suddenly getting damn thirsty.
He'd like to climb up on that mattress and start sucking at Castiel's ankles, lap up water up to his thighs, take the ice on his stomach into his mouth and swirl it around on Cas' flat stomach until it too has melted completely, then flatten himself on top of Cas and crush the remaining ice between their bodies while he kisses Cas with a cold tongue that sizzles when it touches Castiel's mouth.
But Castiel's hot, and he's a whiny bastard when he's hot, so Dean just digs his nails into his thigh and tries to think about grandmas in leotards.
"Dean."
Oh, God, here it comes again.
"Dean, are you listening?"
Whine, whine, bitch, bitch, moan, moan...
"Dean, if you don't get over here, I'm going to freeze to death."
...Oh.
Dean loves taking showers with Cas. It's not even the whole sexual thing, or even the intimacy of it. It's watching Cas' eyes widen, watching his body relax under the hot spray. Tense muscles loosening, mouth opening to catch and taste the warm water, enthralled by the experience.
When Castiel's eyes open, after a long time closed as he indulges in the sensuality of the hot water pouring over him, they're dark blue and wide, and he says, his voice guttural, "I always forget how that feels." Dean can believe it, because Castiel reacts every time like it's his first time feeling it.
If he reaches out to touch Cas, to hold him and to kiss the mouth wet with spray, it's because Dean wants to feel that too. He wants to taste the water the way Cas tastes it, to feel the heat of the steam rising up from the floor just as Cas is feeling it. His body flushes with heat that's not quite the same, but that's okay. Because this part, to Dean, feels like the first time every time.
- The first time Dean ever saw lust in Castiel's eyes was when they passed a lot full of gleaming Harley-Davidsons. He pulled right over.
- "Thinking about becoming a Hell's Angel?" Dean jibed. Cas ignored him, preferring to run his hands one more time over the seat's leather.
- After getting more than a little tangled up on his first try, Cas made a wise decision to hand Dean his trenchcoat before mounting the bike.
- Dean felt like the father of a seven-year-old. He kind of wanted to run along and hold the back of the seat to keep Cas from taking a spill.
- When Cas returned to the lot, his cheeks were flushed and his hair mussed from the wind. He was breathless, and mysteriously, so was Dean.
- "I want one," Castiel said fiercely. Dean laughed. "Dude, where would you keep it?" Cas waved his hand. The motorcycle disappeared. "There."
- He didn't use it to get places. For Castiel it was all about repcaturing the sensation of flying, with the added thrill of a growling motor.
- There were times he listened to the engine rev up and heard the low rumble of Dean's voice. There were times when it was vice versa, too.
- It was embarrassing as hell, but when Castiel asked Dean to join him for a ride, Dean's heart started beating like that damn Disney rabbit.
- "But you don't wear a helmet!" "I'm an angel." "If you're an angel, then use your magic powers to make sure we don't crash!" ",,,Put it on."
- Castiel liked the heart-pounding rush of riding the bike. Now he knew it was nothing compared to what he got with Dean's hands on his shirt.
- Dean was starting to appreciate the bike. Winding hilly paths like these were roads even an Impala couldn't travel. And the view at the top!
- He didn't realize how tight he'd been hanging on until the bike lurched to a stop and Dean was plastered to the back of Castiel's shirt.
- The motor was still hot beneath him, but Castiel was hotter where Dean's hands had, he was sure, left his own set of searing handprints.
- They sat on the ground, the bike casting a shadow over their heads, and Castiel shivered. "Gonna have to get you a biker jacket," Dean said.
- It's Castiel's smile (after Dean says, "On that bike you're pretty badass") that wipes the answering smile off Dean's face and draws him in.
- Dean's been in his lap for about ten minutes before he breaks off their frantic kissing, bright-eyed. "Think we could do this on the bike?"