Angels & Mounties (due South/Supernatural) Part 3
Fraser was making a valiant attempt to formulate a suitable explanation of the day's events. He and Diefenbaker were alone at the Consulate, Turbull and Thatcher had left hours ago. He appreciated the quiet and lack of distraction. No matter how he spun the story, no matter what details he left out or what kind of creative turn of phrase he used, he was unable to come up with an explanation that sat right in his gut. Castiel had first presented himself no differently than the average confused and emotionally fragile person that wandered into the station. But there clearly was more to this--Did he dare call it a case? That would mean there was something to solve, some crime committed, some right to wrong. With the information that he had before him, Fraser was not sure he could make a convincing argument to call this a case. A problem, yes, without a doubt, this was a problem. But the end of the world doesn’t qualify as a crime. Unless Michael and Lucifer were to show up in Chicago and shoot up a couple of banks, the actions of angels and demons were out of both his and Ray's jurisdiction. Still, there really didn't seem to be a good way to sweep the disappearance of a sick man who had been in their care aside. It could be argued that you can't lose what doesn't exist, but he had existed, at least temporarily. That was the problem. One problem. There were a number of problems.
"You're thinking too hard about this, son." As was the wont of the dead, without warning Fraser Sr was sitting on a chair on the other side of the room. Diefenbaker whined a hello and sat down next to the elder Mountie. "You should be used to things like this by now."
Fraser looked up and turned in his chair to face his father. "It's not me I'm worried about, Dad. Ray has never given me any indication that he has had similar experiences to this."
"Don't talk to me like you're relating the tale of a bad camping trip. I'm your father."
"My long dead father, who appears at crucial times in my life to offer me guidance. You still don't find that the least bit odd, do you?"
"I've seen odder things, why once I was just outside of Dettah when..."
"Not now,” Fraser interrupted.
"Fine, it's a good story, but fine." his father waved his hand and tipped back onto the rear legs of the chair. "Why are you so worried?"
"Today a man claiming to be an angel trying to stop the Apocalypse disappeared without a trace in the middle of a busy Chicago street. Ray appeared very upset about the entire series of events. He was certainly shaken when last I saw him."
"If he was so upset, why did you leave him alone?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Because that was the polite thing to do. Ray was obviously distraught, but not so that he was unable to make clear decisions. He stated that he wanted to sit and watch TV and drink beer. That sounded like an ideal way for him to wind down after a day like today. That’s how Ray processes information. Therefore, I left to him to his own devices. As you well know, I have different coping mechanisms. I don't believe, however, that my methods are going to be much more successful."
"Why can't you accept the events at face value and be done with it? Sometimes, Benton, I think you are cursed with too many thoughts in that head of yours. Everything you were told today might well be true. This man said he was a mission and that he was having difficulty getting in touch with the rest of his team, and then he was gone. Maybe he found them. Isn't that the best possible outcome, considering?"
"Not considering the rest of his story." He paced as he spoke. Sensing his master's mood, Dief got up and dutifully followed Fraser's movements. Fraser reached down and stroked the wolf's head. "The story, though... The end of the world? The fate of humanity resting on the shoulders of two brothers--His talk of vessels and angels and time travel--That's not something I feel comfortable accepting on blind faith."
"He just related a story. He didn't ask you to join in the fight. Besides, he's gone. Since you can't think of any other explanation, your best bet is to accept that the story was real to him and move on from there."
"What about Ray?"
"I would make the same suggestion to him, if he could hear me."
"As would I," Castiel said.
Fraser stood agape. Diefenbaker slid down onto the ground and laid his nose on his paws in submission. Fraser Sr looked amused.
"Cas...You're...here."
"It would seem that I am."
"But, how? How did you get in here? Where did you disappear to earlier?" Questions whirled in his head and poured out of his mouth. He waved towards his father. "You see him?"
Castiel nodded. He was tousled and looking worse for the wear. "I can perceive that which is not readily visible to the human eye. As can you, I see." He paused, collecting his thoughts for a moment. "While I was gone, I was briefly able to locate Sam and Dean. I could not maintain contact for very long."
"He's very succinct, I like him." Remembering that he could address him directly, Fraser Sr turned and said "I like you."
"Thank you. You seem to be a good man. I'm sorry that you’re not yet able to rest in peace."
"It's not so bad, really. I've had worse experiences. I'd tell you about some of them, but Benton isn't in the mood for storytelling."
"Considering the circumstances, I just don't think this is the time."
“You’re the boss, son. It's been a pleasure meeting you, Castiel. Perhaps we’ll cross paths again one day. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm going to leave you two to work this out." With that, Fraser Sr waved and was gone.
"Where have you been?" Fraser turned his attention to Cas.
"That happens regularly, I take it. Why were you bothered when I did the same thing?"
"I lived with my father's strange comings and goings when he was alive. Death hasn't changed him much. Ray is not so inured."
"You care a great deal for him, don't you?"
"He's my partner."
Castiel’s expression indicated he expected further explanation.
"He's my friend. We've been through a lot together in a very short time."
"I can relate."
"I'm sure you can. Make yourself comfortable." Fraser sat down on a chair in front of the fireplace. He motioned for Castiel to take the chair opposite. "Where were you?"
Cas sat down. "A Japanese game show."
"I'm sorry?"
"When I located Sam and Dean, they were contestants on a Japanese game show."
"Were they in danger?"
"No more than before. I can't say the same thing for me."
Fraser leaned forward in his chair, his arms resting on his knees. "How so?"
"I was not the most powerful being present. That's unusual, and I can't say I found it particularly enjoyable. There is a good possibility we're not dealing with the Trickster after all. Whoever, or whatever this is, is very strong and seems to take my interference as a personal threat."
"Is there someone who would have a vendetta against you?"
"It would be easier at this point to list those that don't."
"Let me guess, you're the rebel of the bunch?" He joked.
"Yes."
Fraser cracked his neck, like he was prone to do whenever he was nervous or embarrassed. "Would you mind starting from the beginning? I'm afraid I'm having a difficult time understanding a lot of what you're saying. I want to, but--Well, for one thing, you don’t exactly seem what I would consider to be the rebellious type."
"I do what I have to, if in the process I anger some of my family, so be it." It was clear from his tone that family was not his favorite topic.
"Fair enough. But the rest--Why are you here? Here on earth and not in heaven or wherever it is you spend most of your time? Why are Sam and Dean so important?"
"It's a very long story."
"I have time."
"In return, will you go into the reasons that didn't bear explaining earlier as to why you've stayed here, attached as a liaison to the Canadian consulate?"
"I'd be happy to."
With that, Castiel related a story of a man hell bent on revenge, who raised his sons as hunters. How Sam left the family to attend school. Told of the night when Dean had broken into Sam's apartment and dragged him away from his safe, normal life and back into hunting. Of the demon Azazel and the children he had picked to be his army. Related how Dean had sold his soul at the crossroads in exchange for the life of his brother. How he had pulled Dean from Hell and returned him to his earthly existence. He explained the seals and Sam's dalliance with the darkness; how Lilith’s death had broken the final seal and triggered the Apocalypse. He told Fraser about how he had rebelled against his orders and helped Dean. Described his death in more detail than Fraser really needed to hear. Explained that now he was looking for his father, the only one who could stop the final showdown between Michael and Lucifer, and how Michael and Lucifer’s goals were to be carried out by Dean and Sam Winchester, respectively.
"I've left some things out, but those are the important details."
Fraser sat in stunned silence for long while. This was a ridiculous story. More than that, this story was equal parts Biblical myth, folk tale and soap opera. It was a huge, sprawling epic encompassing all of human history and it had just been told as if it was a family Christmas letter. He put his head in his hands.
"Are you all right?"
He looked up. "Yes, I am. I just...You died for him?" He shook his head. "That's... I need a drink of water or something. I need to think for a minute." He rose from his chair. "Can I get you anything? You must be thirsty after that."
"Hmmm," Cas swallowed. "Come to think of it, I am. Do you have anything stronger?"
The question took Fraser by surprise. "Stronger? Are you implying you would like a drink?"
"If you have one."
"After the coffee, I assumed you weren't a drinker of much of anything. Much less alcohol."
"It isn’t necessary, that doesn't mean I won't partake. It's been a very bad day and, as Dean's said, there's no better end to a shitty day than getting shitfaced."
"That is a most un-holy turn of phrase."
"Too much time around humans. I find myself becoming more and more comfortable with your ways."
"I’ve noticed aspects of my personality seem to be colored by my experiences since I've left home." He looked down at the floor, traced a path along the rug with his foot. "Sometimes I feel as if I've been gone too long." He snapped out of his brief reverie and motioned for Castiel to follow him. "I think there might be something downstairs. We usually keep it for visiting dignitaries or other important figures, but I suppose an argument could be made for your inclusion in that group."
They returned a few minutes later, a bottle of scotch and glasses in hand. Fraser poured them each a drink. He pulled a side table in between the chairs and sat the bottle on it. "I don't usually drink," he said. "I prefer to remain in complete control, which, obviously, one cannot do when inebriated."
"Complete control is an illusion. We convince ourselves we are in control of our circumstances. It doesn't work that way. Case in point," he pointed towards himself with the glass.
"I'm sorry." Fraser took a sip of the scotch, winced as the alcohol burned down his throat. "I know the feeling."
Castiel pounded the drink in a swift gulp. "You haven't told me your story."
He picked up the bottle and refilled Cas's glass. "It's really not worth telling. Not compared to what you told me."
"I'm curious. You came to avenge your father’s death. If you’ve done so, why do you remain?"
Fraser swallowed another drink and sat his glass down. He didn't enjoy the taste or the effects of alcohol. It was another one of many things that were normal for other people to which he had never been able to grow accustomed. "I suppose I had very few reasons to stay, but I had even fewer reasons to leave. I had nothing to go home to. At least here I felt somewhat wanted."
Fraser told his story. About how his mother died when he was very young and his father's months long absences. His childhood in the care of his grandparents, with few people, but many books, as companions. How he learned to hunt and track and know the expanses of the North better than most people knew the block on which they lived. He explained that his father had been killed and how he had worn out his last bit of welcome with his Canadian counterparts by chasing the killers all the way to Chicago. Then he told Castiel about Ray Vecchio and their friendship. How Ray was the first friend he'd had in many years and how it had been both exciting and frustrating to find out what it meant to be friends with someone. Just when he'd been getting used to the ups and downs, Ray had left and Ray, the other Ray, had taken his place. He stumbled as he tried to explain Ray Kowalski, because it wasn't as simple with him as it had been with Ray Vecchio. He was more difficult, more emotional, more intense. He was more everything, and it was as confusing as it was exhilarating.
"The intersection of a few lives hardly compares to your story,” Fraser said, in conclusion.
“I’ve learned that just because something matters to a very few, that doesn’t mean it doesn't matter at all. Friendship is a very interesting thing. Getting to know Dean has changed me. I'm not sure if it's for the best, but I have changed. The Rays have effected you as well."
How many drinks was that, now? Four? Five? Castiel was drinking at an alarming clip. But then, angels, even angels disguised in human form, were likely to react to alcohol differently than humans.
A drink seemed appropriate. If there wasn't an already poured glass within arm’s reach he wouldn't have, but the drink was there and he took advantage. "I don't discount it." Fraser took a sip and choked back the urge to spit the drink back into the glass. "I am just not sure I'm comfortable with what that implies."
Castiel surveyed Fraser over his glass, "You mean that you're in love with your partner?"
This time it was impossible to avoid a spit take. "What?"
"That's what you're saying, isn't it? You use other words, but they really all boil down to that most fragile human emotion."
Fraser stood up and turned towards the fireplace. Dief raised his head, checking to see if he should react further. He decided against it. "I haven't even considered the possibility." He pivoted on his foot and turned towards Castiel. "Is that how you feel about Dean? Is that why you assume I have feelings for Ray? Because you want to know if it's normal?"
"I’m well aware of my opinion of Dean. I have no need or desire to contemplate its normalcy. It just is."
"You make it sound so simple." He sat his drink down on the nearest flat surface and turned away.
"Hiding your expression doesn’t keep me from knowing what you’re thinking."
With a lift of his head, Fraser said "You read minds?"
Castiel got up and walked towards the Mountie "Not exactly." He put his hand on Fraser's shoulder. Fraser turned and looked at him. Their eyes met, Cas placed his index and middle finger on Fraser's forehead. Fraser fell to his knees. Cas held his position and kept Fraser's gaze for a few seconds before releasing his hold. Fraser's head dropped forward. In spite of himself, his shoulders heaved and he had to steady himself on his hands.
"How did you do that?" He didn’t raise his head as he spoke.
"Does it matter?" Fraser could feel the angel's gaze, steady and without emotion.
Fraser looked up. "Why did you do that?"
"You humans are so obsessed with the idea of your depravity. It may be inconvenient, but there's nothing inherently sinful about your inclinations."
"That's where you're wrong." Fraser folded his legs under himself and sat up. "There are boundaries."
"Fuck boundaries," Castiel said.
Fraser stood up, unsteady on his feet at first, but steady enough to make his point. "What sort of thing are you? You have a chip on your shoulder so big I'm amazed you can stand up under the weight of it. You’re vindictive, cruel. There’s nothing divine about you."
"Really?” Cas's face was so close that Fraser could feel the heat of the other man's breath as he spoke. "What is it that makes you an expert on such things? Is it that I employ the vernacular? Do you think my father gives a damn what kind of language we use? Do you think He gives a damn about anything that happens on this stupid rock? Is it because I don’t live up to your standards of conduct? Are you offended that I've finished most of that bottle of scotch in the last twenty minutes? That has nothing to do with what I am in here," he bounced the palm of his hand off of the side of his head. "You're all so narrow minded. You think just because you've had this planet for the last couple of millennia you have some kind of idea of how things work.” With each accusation he moved closer to Fraser, who stepped back in kind. “Well, you don't. You have no goddamn idea how things work." To punctuate his final point, he shoved Fraser with such force he reeled backward and fell.
Fraser was sprawled on the floor, leaning backwards on his hands. "You're angry. You feel like your father betrayed you. God knows I understand that feeling. But why take your anger out on me?"
Cas knelt before Fraser, his trench coat draped out behind him. He leaned forward and took Fraser's head in his hand. "You are a very unusual man." He stroked his thumb along Fraser's jaw line. “I don't understand it myself. I’m not prone to being so outgoing.”
They were too close. Fraser could feel Cas's exhalations, could smell the alcohol and feel the anger and want rising off of him. Could feel his carefully constructed facade begin to crack. "This is not appropriate."
"Do I really need to tell you what I feel about appropriateness?" Cas whispered, his lips brushing against Fraser's ear.
"I don't suppose you do."
What happened next was a blind, mad confusion of hands and mouths and ripping off of layers of clothes and blasphemous mutterings. Fraser struggled to push aside Castiel's coat as Cas traced a series of bites along Fraser's neck before pulling Fraser's shirt over his head. Fraser pushed Cas down onto the floor and popped the buttons open on Cas's shirt before pulling his tie off with the practice movement of one that really knew his knots. Fraser held Cas’s wrists tight against the floor as he kissed him. Hard and controlling kisses that were nothing like gentlemanly or polite. Fraser felt a vicious need that he could not define. He didn’t behave like this. There was a first time for everything. "This is unlike any heavenly intercedence I've ever read about," he whispered.
"Books don't hold all the answers, Constable Fraser." Cas didn't fight Fraser's hold, he relaxed into it, letting himself be held down and manipulated. Fraser slipped his foot between Cas's knees and spread his legs open. He slid his leg up against the seam in Cas's pants and began to move in a slow, rhythmic motion that made Cas squirm. Without loosening his grip, Fraser slid up and down along Cas's body, placing kisses and licks along his path. Cas let out a quiet moan and pushed up against Fraser, a very human reaction. The very picture of the sort of desperate needy creature he would claim to despise.
"What do you want?" Fraser's mouth was against Cas's chest as he spoke.
"You," he whispered.
"Don't lie to me," Fraser tightened his hold and nipped at a tender spot just below his ribcage. "Tell me what you want."
"Is that not what you want to hear?," Cas asked.
"No, I need you to be honest with me. Now’s not the time to take up lying."
"Even if it means my telling you that you're barely more than a reasonable facsimile of my actual desire?" Cas asked.
"After what you did to me? How dare you?"
"I've heard niceties improve the enjoyment of sexual congress."
"Don’t bother. This is cheap enough as it is."
Cas sat up and wrapped his legs around Fraser's waist. He rested his head in the crook of Fraser's neck. "I’m thinking of Dean. I am drawn to him in a way that makes me worry for the little grace I still have." He whispered into Fraser’s ear. "Is that what you want to hear?"
Fraser wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him close. "Yes."
"Good," his hot breath sent shivers down Fraser's spine. "Now you."
"You already know."
"I want you to say it." Cas licked along the curve of Fraser's neck. "They say confession is good for the soul."
He took a deep breath and braced himself. "I'm drawn to Ray in a way that is beyond partnership. More than friendship. I very much want to do to him what I am about to do to you." The words came fast and ran together, but he said them and that was what mattered.
Cas smiled. "Now doesn't that feel better?"
"At the moment, I am not sure that I care." Fraser turned and placed a rough, greedy kiss on Castiel. Cas met the kiss with equal abandon and raised the stakes with hands dug into Fraser's back and teeth that nipped at Fraser's lips. Fraser slid his hands down Cas's back and took firm hold of his ass, pulling them together, providing much needed pressure against their hard cocks. Cas groaned. "We're overdressed. But then," Fraser slid his hand down inside Cas's pants, "aren't we usually?"
Cas released his hold and Fraser and reached down to undo his pants. Fraser stripped with a smooth, but hurried motion. Without a pause to take each other in, Fraser pushed Cas down on the floor and kissed him, pressing their bodies together as he did. Cas bucked up. Fraser pulled away, teasing. He pushed himself up and ran his hand down Cas's stomach. He slid his fingers between Cas's lips, one at a time, slowly, before pressing his hand flat against Cas’s mouth. “Lick,” he said and Cas obeyed. He reached down, wrapped his hand around Cas's dick. Cas closed his eyes and arched his back as Fraser slid his hand up and down.
"I take it you like that?"
"Yes, " Cas answered. Fraser increased the intensity of the strokes.
"And this as well?" He leaned forward and took the tip of Cas's cock into his mouth. He licked drops of precome, sucked gently at the head.
Cas gasped.
"Hmmmm," Fraser pulled back and cast his eyes towards Castiel's. "It seems you do. I'll continue, then." Fraser slid his tongue down Cas's shaft as he took in as much as he was capable.
"You fucking better or I'll smite your ass," hissed Cas.
Fraser looked up and laughed. "No you won't."
"Regardless," his fingers dug so deep into the rug that his fingernails scraped along the plastic backing. "That doesn't mean you should stop."
"I have no such intention." Fraser slid his tongue down Cas's shaft, traced the same path back up before closing his mouth around Cas's dick. Cas reached out and threaded his fingers through Fraser's hair. He guided Fraser's movements at first, but his force quickly progressed. Thrusting his hips and forcing his cock deep into Fraser's throat, pushing him to the very edge of gagging before pulling back. He thrust harder and harder. Fraser relaxed his throat muscles, determined not to choke, determined to take everything Castiel had to offer him. Every inch, every movement. He would take it and he would be ready for more. The next time Cas lifted his hips off the ground, Fraser reached out and took hold of his waist and held him as he sucked him, fucking him with his mouth, feeling the tension building as he licked and teased with his teeth and lips.
"This is," Cas panted.
"Mmmmm," Fraser hummed.
"What..." he struggled for words as he scraped his fingers along Fraser's shoulders. Cas's gasped for air. Every muscle in his body tightened. He came with the strength and violence of a fireworks doused with lighter fluid. He screamed words in a language never before uttered by human tongues and most likely never before used in such circumstances. He shook with the after effects and fell limp, sprawled on the floor.
Fraser swallowed and made one last slow lick as he pulled away. That last action sent a shiver through Cas's body that caused him to kick his foot and knock over the half empty glass of scotch sitting on the table. Fraser looked at the broken glass and frowned. "I'm going to have to clean that up, you know."
"Later," Cas said. He spent a few moments trying to catch his breath. "I believe it is customary to reciprocate." He didn't sit up as he spoke, though he did make an effort to lift his head slightly.
"It is." Fraser propped himself up on one arm. "Assuming you are capable of doing anything other than lying there like a pile of wet clothes on wash day."
"I suppose my answer would be contingent on what you had in mind."
"Now, isn't it easier to be honest, than to hedge around the issue?" He traced a finger down Cas's sweat slicked skin.
With what seemed to be a great deal of effort, Cas rolled over onto his side so that he was face to face with Fraser. "Dishonesty is not possible in this situation."
"Ahh,"" Fraser smiled. "You don't know that much about human nature. This is fertile ground for lies."
"No wonder you're all so miserable. You can't even tell the truth when in the midst of ecstasy." Cas leaned forward, placed his hand on the back of Fraser's head and kissed him. "What do you want me to do for you?" He smiled. "Or should I ask, what do you want to do to me?"
"If you're implying that we should have penetrative sex, I'm afraid I'll have to decline, as I would be unable to take the necessary precautions."
Cas nibbled on Fraser's ear, rolled his tongue along the outline of the inside and out and nipped on his earlobe. "I would have thought a Mountie would always be prepared."
"We always get our man. That has more to do with perseverance than preparation."
"Lucky for you, I am prepared."
"You have a condom?"
"Dean gave it to me some time ago. He was under the impression I might have the opportunity to use it. I doubt he had this particular circumstance in mind."
"You carry it with you, just in case? Please tell me it's in your wallet." The idea of an angel showing up to a meeting with God with a condom in his wallet made Fraser chuckle. Shades of grade 10 awkwardness. Not Fraser's grade 10, specifically, but he'd heard stories.
"It's in the inside pocket of my coat. Why would I keep it in my wallet?"
"Ask Dean sometime, I'm sure he'd be happy to explain it to you." Fraser picked Cas's coat up off the floor and dug through the pockets. He found what he was looking for and tossed the coat aside. "Have you done this before?"
"No. Have you?"
"Yes, I've had sex." He tore the corner from the foil wrapper and slipped the condom out of the packaging. "Despite outward appearances, I'm not completely repressed."
"With a man?"
Fraser slid the condom on and leaned over until his mouth brushed light and tempting against Castiel's. "You're not a man."
Cas’s breath caught in his throat. He didn't move closer, just let their lips barely touch, their breath mingle. "True. My vessel is, however. Are you ready for that?"
"I think it'll be considerably harder on you than it will be on me." With that, he pushed Cas down on the floor. With a flick of his arm, he flipped him over onto his stomach. He draped one arm across Castiel's waist, pulling him up onto his hands and knees. Cas complied without a sound. Fraser stroked himself, teasing the end of his cock against Cas's crack. He exhaled a slow, hot breath against the tight muscle. An indistinct sound creaked from Cas's throat which Fraser took as an invitation. He filled his mouth with saliva and wet the other man's opening, slipping in a single finger as he did so. Cas was unprepared for the intrusion. He tightened and made a weak, pained sound. "You need to breathe, or it won't work." Fraser stroked a hand down Cas's back, long, gentle strokes. "You have to just relax into it," he whispered, sliding a second finger in, working the two in slightly wider movements. Slow, careful not to spook Cas with any sudden movements. But, oh, he wanted to move suddenly. He wanted to feel that tightness encompassing him. It was taking all of his patience to do this the right way. He really wished he had some sort of lubricant, this would be much easier if he did. "Just breathe. Don't fight me, it won't work if you fight."
"Do it now," Cas pushed against Fraser's hand.
"Are you sure?"
"Do it," he growled.
That was all Fraser needed. He didn't stop for a moment to consider the pain he might cause. He just acted, guiding himself into the tight hole, the heat and pressure wrapping around him until he was overcome with the sensation and the excitement. Cas groaned, but didn't pull away. The feeling grew, fast, sharp jolts of pleasure to match his movements. Fraser grabbed onto Cas's hips to steady himself, thrusting and grinding without regard for anything but his own pleasure. He was so close. He closed his eyes. He saw a cliff, white, powdery snow drifted around his feet, a mountain range was visible not so far off in the distance. He was on the edge of the cliff, standing there looking over the edge at the drop. Cas was standing in beside him, saying something he couldn't understand.. Then, Ray was behind him, saying, "Why don't you just let loose once in awhile. Just let your hair down and live a little, Fraser. Life's too short." He heard it--Really understood and it made so much sense. He was closer to the edge now. So close that he could feel his foot slip on the loose snow. One movement, one more move, just the right one..."Fuck!" He growled as he came, his body arching backward before he toppled over onto the floor, taking Castiel with him.
Long seconds passed. They stayed where they had fallen, arms and legs twisted together, bodies sweat-soaked and hot, short of breath. Not even trying to move.
"That was more pleasant than I expected," Cas stated.
"It was good for you, then?"
"Is that part of the ritual?"
"It's always nice to make sure your guest enjoyed him- or herself."
"But you wait until after to ask if it's satisfactory. Wouldn't it have been better to ask---"
Fraser placed a finger on Cas's mouth. "Shhhhh... not now. Sleep, now. Etiquette discussions can wait until later."
"If you insist."
"I really do." He wrapped an arm around Cas and pulled him against his chest.
"I don't require sleep," Cas said.
"Then just lie there and don't talk for a few hours."
"OK."
Fraser was too far gone to respond. He gave his last bit of conscious effort to stroke Castiel's hair before drifting off into unconsciousness.
Continued