Long Road to Ruin - Chapter Five
Title: Long Road to Ruin
Author: wanda_thefish
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: NC-17 (For later Chapters)
Chapter Word Count: 2028 (Total: ~10000 - WIP)
Summary: Dean Winchester is right-hand man to mafia boss Michael Di Angeles. Dean is unfailingly loyal to his boss and completely trustworthy… except maybe when it comes to Michael's blue-eyed lover.
Chapter One [...] Previous
The first thing Dean registers when he wakes, is the telling strain in his muscles indicating an evening spent in pleasant exertion. He shifts slightly, feeling an agreeable pull in his buttocks and smiles into the silky goose down pillow beneath his face. His sleep muddled brain conjures up a satisfying couple of hours spent parked up at the reservoir, Castiel spread out on the Impala's backseat. Dean sighs and wonders how late he got back to his apartment-
Hang on… goose down?
Other details hit him all at once- the warm solid weight plastered against his back… the steady breathing stirring the short hairs at the nape of his neck... the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains and slanting across his face…
He sits up with a start, memories of the previous night flooding back to him. His eyes land on Castiel's still sleeping form, before scanning anxiously and stopping on the ornate carved oak mantel clock. His stomach tightens in cold panic.
12:30pm. Fuck.
"Cas, wake up."
Castiel opens bleary eyes as he is shaken roughly awake.
"Dean… what's going on?" His voice is thick with sleep, lower than usual and practically unintelligible. Suddenly he finds his focus and his eyes widen in horror. "Is Michael here?"
"Not yet he isn't," Dean is searching the room urgently for his clothes, before remembering they're probably all still downstairs. "But it's after lunch, and he never said when he would be back."
Racing down the stairs, Dean bolts into the drawing room, skidding to a stop when he takes in the mess they'd left behind. He curses loudly as he looks at the clothes strewn around the room, buttons from Castiel's shirt making tell-tale markers in every corner. He has just struggled into his boxers and is busy searching out his shirt, when a loud ringing echoes through the house.
Dean's heart literally jumps into his throat, as he pictures Uriel or one of the others waiting outside. Shit. He freezes, rooted to the spot, unsure if he should keep dressing or hide under the couch.
It is only when the trilling noise sounds again, he realises it is not the door bell, but the telephone.
The sound is cut short, and Dean hears the deep rumble of Castiel speaking upstairs. He speedily locates the rest of his clothes, pulling them on and gathering up Castiel's.
As he starts back up the stairs, he can just make out one side of the conversation.
"… Of course I understand Michael… thank you yes, the show was magnificent… yes Dean accompanied me…"
He comes into the bedroom to see Castiel sat on the edge of the bed, the sheet wrapped around his waist and the phone tucked against his shoulder.
Castiel glances up to him, a small smile lighting his face as he raises a finger to his lips.
"It can't be helped Michael, I know that… don't worry, I can keep myself occupied…"
Dean seats himself carefully on the bed, raising an eyebrow to Castiel. The other man shakes his head slightly, one hand snaking into Dean's and threading their fingers together.
"I know you must… yes I will… you too, goodbye."
Dean is about to ask what's going on, but he words are trapped in his throat when he finds himself on his back, pinned to the bed by a naked Castiel, whilst the other man kisses him eagerly.
"What did he say?" Dean gasps as soon as Castiel lets him up for air. Castiel just grunts dismissively, attaching his mouth to Dean's neck, quick fingers reopening his shirt.
"Come on Cas…" Dean moans, trying not to be distracted by the tongue now swirling around his nipple. "… what's going on?"
Castiel ignores him, moving across to lavish attention on the other side, nipping gently at the nub of red-brown skin.
"Cas!" Dean mutters sharply, tugging on the other man's hair, fixing him with a stern glare.
Castiel lifts his head up with a huff, narrowing his eyes in irritation.
"Tell me what he said," Dean orders.
Castiel rolls his eyes, pushing himself upright and straddling Dean's hips.
"He said he's in Chicago as a character witness for Balthazar's trial, but as it's been postponed until Monday, there's no point travelling all the way back, so he's going to stay there until then, ok?" Castiel's eyes twinkle as he forces himself to keep a straight face. "Now can I get back to what I was doing?"
Castiel leans forwards again, but Dean catches him halfway, forcing the man to look at him.
"He's not coming back until Monday…" a slow smile spreads across Dean's face as he does the math. "Four days… he's not coming back for four days… are you freaking kidding me?" he grins, rolling Castiel over as the other man nods giddily, and leans down to kiss him hungrily.
"No I'm not," Castiel laughs breathlessly when Dean finally releases him, "So hurry up and get naked so you can fuck me senseless."
Castiel's excitement is infectious; Dean finds himself chuckling like a teenager as he wriggles out of his boxer shorts and dives on top of the other man, pulling the covers over their heads.
Like he needs telling twice.
(***)
Compared to their usual meetings, four days is a lifetime. But it quickly becomes apparent that even that is not enough.
"I wish you didn't have to go, Dean," Castiel is lying on the bed, sprawled naked on his back and covered in come, watching as Dean pulls his clothes on.
"Don't, Cas." Dean fastens his belt and turns around, groaning at the sight of the other man idly displaying himself.
He'd give anything right now to strip down, crawl into bed and lose himself again in Castiel's body.
Four days they've had together, four days in which they've barely left the bed- taking each other again and again, eating takeout straight from the cartons, sleeping in each other's arms for a few hours only to wake and do it all again.
Dean's never been in a real relationship; even before Castiel he was more of a 'love 'em and leave 'em' kind of guy, not one to do repeat performances. Domesticity was not something he had ever had any inclination towards, but still, he can't help thinking if he had met Castiel in another lifetime, maybe this is something they would have had- lazy weekends and holidays spent hiding from the world, passing the time for the sake of it in the pleasure of each other's bodies.
For four days now they've kidded themselves that nothing exists outside the musky confines of this room, but as it does, the clock has run out and reality has caught up to them, now all they can do is be grateful for their brief spell, and try not to despair too much at its passing.
Castiel pulls the blankets up around him and pouts, an expression that looks so ridiculous on a grown man, Dean is forced to laugh.
"Come on," Dean grabs the other man's hands and hauls him to his feet, drawing his sheet clad form into his arms and holding him there.
Despite Castiel's groan of protest, he melts into Dean's chest and wraps his arms firmly around his waist. They hold each other tightly, trying to savour every last second, unsure how long it will be before they have this again. Dean rubs his cheek softly against Castiel's hair, trailing his fingers up and down the shape of his spine.
"Dean… I…" Castiel's voice is small and shaky when he speaks from somewhere beneath Dean's chin.
"Don't Cas." Dean repeats, unable to handle any talk of feelings right now, not when his emotions are so raw.
He feels like he has been given a glimpse of something perfect in these few days, a peek at a wonderful treasure that will never be his. And now he has to walk away from it. Again. It feels like all he ever does is walk away from Cas, never knowing if this time will be the last, maybe this time he won't find his way back.
"No Dean," Castiel lifts his head and stares defiantly into his eyes, determined to speak his mind. "I have to say this… these past few days have been just perfect. And I know we don't… what I mean, we can't…" Castiel pauses and takes a deep breath, his eyed bright and intent. "I know we can't ever have any more than this… but I just want you to know, I have never been happier in my life, than I am when I'm with you."
Dean swallows at what he knows goes unsaid. The things they've promised they will never say, but Dean hears them anyway.
Never one for speeches, Dean cups Castiel's face and kisses him fiercely in reply.
Castiel understands every word.
(***)
It's nearly midnight when Castiel hears the front door open downstairs, and the soft slap of Michael's shoes in the hallway.
He knew he would have to face him sooner or later, but the cowardly part of Castiel had hoped the other man would return later at night, when he could have feigned sleep and put off the reunion until tomorrow.
He's checked and double-checked and triple-checked the house for any signs of Dean's stay- there's nothing to be found, the sheets have been cleaned dried and put away, the garbage emptied and the floors swept. Still, Castiel feels like Michael will take one look at his face and know; like the scent of Dean will be imprinted on his skin, the taste ingrained in his lips.
The bedroom door opens, and Michael stands in the doorway, watching Castiel for a moment whilst the man pretends to read the book held in front of him, not taking in a single word. Eventually Castiel looks up, forcing a smile for his lover.
"Hello Michael," he murmurs, closing his book and placing it on the bedside table. Michael looks pristine as always, despite the twelve hour drive.
"Castiel," the other man smiles moving into the room, his grey eyes fixed on Castiel with their usual intensity. Castiel is glad Michael has always chosen to use his full name rather than the shortened version; Cas is Dean's.
"How was your journey?" Castiel turns his face up to accept the light kiss from Michael before the man moves to remove his suit jacket, carefully hanging it in the wardrobe.
"Long," Michael laughs gently, "And Uriel is poor company."
He comes to stand at the side of the bed; Castiel understands what he wants and kneels up to unbutton Michael's shirt, pulling it free from his suit pants and loosening the cuffs.
"But you are home now," he smiles, swallowing the lump in his throat as Michael takes hold of his face, leaning down to kiss him on the mouth. Michael pulls back and runs a thumb over Castiel's bottom lip.
"Yes," he shrugs his shirt off, revealing a torso still toned and only just showing the first signs of age. He unfastens his pants, allowing them to drop to the floor, and forces Castiel to scoot backwards as he slides onto the bed. Castiel gulps when Michael grasps his fingers and brings them to cup his growing erection. "And I have missed you more than I can say."
Castiel trembles slightly as Michael slips his hands under his tee, lightly stroking the smooth skin of his stomach before lifting his arms and tugging the garment over his head. He pushes Castiel back into the bed, sealing their lips together and shoving his tongue deep into Castiel's mouth.
Clumsy hands paw at his body and Castiel holds back a whimper as sharp fingers dig into his flesh, tweaking his nipples painfully. Michael rolls onto his back pulling the other man with him; Castiel draws a shuddering breath, feeling a strong hand on his shoulder pushing him unrelentingly down under the covers. His stomach clenches painfully and he tries to push away the feeling of wrongness as Michael's voice rumbles out commandingly,
"Now, show me how much you have missed me."
Next
Author: wanda_thefish
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: NC-17 (For later Chapters)
Chapter Word Count: 2028 (Total: ~10000 - WIP)
Summary: Dean Winchester is right-hand man to mafia boss Michael Di Angeles. Dean is unfailingly loyal to his boss and completely trustworthy… except maybe when it comes to Michael's blue-eyed lover.
Chapter One [...] Previous
The first thing Dean registers when he wakes, is the telling strain in his muscles indicating an evening spent in pleasant exertion. He shifts slightly, feeling an agreeable pull in his buttocks and smiles into the silky goose down pillow beneath his face. His sleep muddled brain conjures up a satisfying couple of hours spent parked up at the reservoir, Castiel spread out on the Impala's backseat. Dean sighs and wonders how late he got back to his apartment-
Hang on… goose down?
Other details hit him all at once- the warm solid weight plastered against his back… the steady breathing stirring the short hairs at the nape of his neck... the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains and slanting across his face…
He sits up with a start, memories of the previous night flooding back to him. His eyes land on Castiel's still sleeping form, before scanning anxiously and stopping on the ornate carved oak mantel clock. His stomach tightens in cold panic.
12:30pm. Fuck.
"Cas, wake up."
Castiel opens bleary eyes as he is shaken roughly awake.
"Dean… what's going on?" His voice is thick with sleep, lower than usual and practically unintelligible. Suddenly he finds his focus and his eyes widen in horror. "Is Michael here?"
"Not yet he isn't," Dean is searching the room urgently for his clothes, before remembering they're probably all still downstairs. "But it's after lunch, and he never said when he would be back."
Racing down the stairs, Dean bolts into the drawing room, skidding to a stop when he takes in the mess they'd left behind. He curses loudly as he looks at the clothes strewn around the room, buttons from Castiel's shirt making tell-tale markers in every corner. He has just struggled into his boxers and is busy searching out his shirt, when a loud ringing echoes through the house.
Dean's heart literally jumps into his throat, as he pictures Uriel or one of the others waiting outside. Shit. He freezes, rooted to the spot, unsure if he should keep dressing or hide under the couch.
It is only when the trilling noise sounds again, he realises it is not the door bell, but the telephone.
The sound is cut short, and Dean hears the deep rumble of Castiel speaking upstairs. He speedily locates the rest of his clothes, pulling them on and gathering up Castiel's.
As he starts back up the stairs, he can just make out one side of the conversation.
"… Of course I understand Michael… thank you yes, the show was magnificent… yes Dean accompanied me…"
He comes into the bedroom to see Castiel sat on the edge of the bed, the sheet wrapped around his waist and the phone tucked against his shoulder.
Castiel glances up to him, a small smile lighting his face as he raises a finger to his lips.
"It can't be helped Michael, I know that… don't worry, I can keep myself occupied…"
Dean seats himself carefully on the bed, raising an eyebrow to Castiel. The other man shakes his head slightly, one hand snaking into Dean's and threading their fingers together.
"I know you must… yes I will… you too, goodbye."
Dean is about to ask what's going on, but he words are trapped in his throat when he finds himself on his back, pinned to the bed by a naked Castiel, whilst the other man kisses him eagerly.
"What did he say?" Dean gasps as soon as Castiel lets him up for air. Castiel just grunts dismissively, attaching his mouth to Dean's neck, quick fingers reopening his shirt.
"Come on Cas…" Dean moans, trying not to be distracted by the tongue now swirling around his nipple. "… what's going on?"
Castiel ignores him, moving across to lavish attention on the other side, nipping gently at the nub of red-brown skin.
"Cas!" Dean mutters sharply, tugging on the other man's hair, fixing him with a stern glare.
Castiel lifts his head up with a huff, narrowing his eyes in irritation.
"Tell me what he said," Dean orders.
Castiel rolls his eyes, pushing himself upright and straddling Dean's hips.
"He said he's in Chicago as a character witness for Balthazar's trial, but as it's been postponed until Monday, there's no point travelling all the way back, so he's going to stay there until then, ok?" Castiel's eyes twinkle as he forces himself to keep a straight face. "Now can I get back to what I was doing?"
Castiel leans forwards again, but Dean catches him halfway, forcing the man to look at him.
"He's not coming back until Monday…" a slow smile spreads across Dean's face as he does the math. "Four days… he's not coming back for four days… are you freaking kidding me?" he grins, rolling Castiel over as the other man nods giddily, and leans down to kiss him hungrily.
"No I'm not," Castiel laughs breathlessly when Dean finally releases him, "So hurry up and get naked so you can fuck me senseless."
Castiel's excitement is infectious; Dean finds himself chuckling like a teenager as he wriggles out of his boxer shorts and dives on top of the other man, pulling the covers over their heads.
Like he needs telling twice.
(***)
Compared to their usual meetings, four days is a lifetime. But it quickly becomes apparent that even that is not enough.
"I wish you didn't have to go, Dean," Castiel is lying on the bed, sprawled naked on his back and covered in come, watching as Dean pulls his clothes on.
"Don't, Cas." Dean fastens his belt and turns around, groaning at the sight of the other man idly displaying himself.
He'd give anything right now to strip down, crawl into bed and lose himself again in Castiel's body.
Four days they've had together, four days in which they've barely left the bed- taking each other again and again, eating takeout straight from the cartons, sleeping in each other's arms for a few hours only to wake and do it all again.
Dean's never been in a real relationship; even before Castiel he was more of a 'love 'em and leave 'em' kind of guy, not one to do repeat performances. Domesticity was not something he had ever had any inclination towards, but still, he can't help thinking if he had met Castiel in another lifetime, maybe this is something they would have had- lazy weekends and holidays spent hiding from the world, passing the time for the sake of it in the pleasure of each other's bodies.
For four days now they've kidded themselves that nothing exists outside the musky confines of this room, but as it does, the clock has run out and reality has caught up to them, now all they can do is be grateful for their brief spell, and try not to despair too much at its passing.
Castiel pulls the blankets up around him and pouts, an expression that looks so ridiculous on a grown man, Dean is forced to laugh.
"Come on," Dean grabs the other man's hands and hauls him to his feet, drawing his sheet clad form into his arms and holding him there.
Despite Castiel's groan of protest, he melts into Dean's chest and wraps his arms firmly around his waist. They hold each other tightly, trying to savour every last second, unsure how long it will be before they have this again. Dean rubs his cheek softly against Castiel's hair, trailing his fingers up and down the shape of his spine.
"Dean… I…" Castiel's voice is small and shaky when he speaks from somewhere beneath Dean's chin.
"Don't Cas." Dean repeats, unable to handle any talk of feelings right now, not when his emotions are so raw.
He feels like he has been given a glimpse of something perfect in these few days, a peek at a wonderful treasure that will never be his. And now he has to walk away from it. Again. It feels like all he ever does is walk away from Cas, never knowing if this time will be the last, maybe this time he won't find his way back.
"No Dean," Castiel lifts his head and stares defiantly into his eyes, determined to speak his mind. "I have to say this… these past few days have been just perfect. And I know we don't… what I mean, we can't…" Castiel pauses and takes a deep breath, his eyed bright and intent. "I know we can't ever have any more than this… but I just want you to know, I have never been happier in my life, than I am when I'm with you."
Dean swallows at what he knows goes unsaid. The things they've promised they will never say, but Dean hears them anyway.
Never one for speeches, Dean cups Castiel's face and kisses him fiercely in reply.
Castiel understands every word.
(***)
It's nearly midnight when Castiel hears the front door open downstairs, and the soft slap of Michael's shoes in the hallway.
He knew he would have to face him sooner or later, but the cowardly part of Castiel had hoped the other man would return later at night, when he could have feigned sleep and put off the reunion until tomorrow.
He's checked and double-checked and triple-checked the house for any signs of Dean's stay- there's nothing to be found, the sheets have been cleaned dried and put away, the garbage emptied and the floors swept. Still, Castiel feels like Michael will take one look at his face and know; like the scent of Dean will be imprinted on his skin, the taste ingrained in his lips.
The bedroom door opens, and Michael stands in the doorway, watching Castiel for a moment whilst the man pretends to read the book held in front of him, not taking in a single word. Eventually Castiel looks up, forcing a smile for his lover.
"Hello Michael," he murmurs, closing his book and placing it on the bedside table. Michael looks pristine as always, despite the twelve hour drive.
"Castiel," the other man smiles moving into the room, his grey eyes fixed on Castiel with their usual intensity. Castiel is glad Michael has always chosen to use his full name rather than the shortened version; Cas is Dean's.
"How was your journey?" Castiel turns his face up to accept the light kiss from Michael before the man moves to remove his suit jacket, carefully hanging it in the wardrobe.
"Long," Michael laughs gently, "And Uriel is poor company."
He comes to stand at the side of the bed; Castiel understands what he wants and kneels up to unbutton Michael's shirt, pulling it free from his suit pants and loosening the cuffs.
"But you are home now," he smiles, swallowing the lump in his throat as Michael takes hold of his face, leaning down to kiss him on the mouth. Michael pulls back and runs a thumb over Castiel's bottom lip.
"Yes," he shrugs his shirt off, revealing a torso still toned and only just showing the first signs of age. He unfastens his pants, allowing them to drop to the floor, and forces Castiel to scoot backwards as he slides onto the bed. Castiel gulps when Michael grasps his fingers and brings them to cup his growing erection. "And I have missed you more than I can say."
Castiel trembles slightly as Michael slips his hands under his tee, lightly stroking the smooth skin of his stomach before lifting his arms and tugging the garment over his head. He pushes Castiel back into the bed, sealing their lips together and shoving his tongue deep into Castiel's mouth.
Clumsy hands paw at his body and Castiel holds back a whimper as sharp fingers dig into his flesh, tweaking his nipples painfully. Michael rolls onto his back pulling the other man with him; Castiel draws a shuddering breath, feeling a strong hand on his shoulder pushing him unrelentingly down under the covers. His stomach clenches painfully and he tries to push away the feeling of wrongness as Michael's voice rumbles out commandingly,
"Now, show me how much you have missed me."
Next