So An Ex-Angel and A Hunter Walk Into A Bar...
Title: So An Ex-Angel and A Hunter Walk Into A Bar...
Rating: R
Genre and/or Pairing: Supernatural; Dean/Cas
Warnings: language, alcohol, some touching and kissing but no sex
Word Count: 3,182
Summary: Post Season 4 AU; Dean takes nearly!human Cas out to a bar after the end of a hard hunt. But he's not the only one capable of noticing Cas, and the whole thing doesn't go quite like he planned...
Written forever ago for a prompt on a meme, and somehow it never actually got posted to my journal, O.o
Ok, so this is something I wrote forever ago…literally one of the first Dean/Cas fics I ever did, <3 It was a response to a prompt on some kind of meme…a h/c meme I think, but I can’t remember. Anyway, I filled it and posted the fill to the meme but somehow it got lost on my computer and never actually got posted anywhere so…here it is, ^^
It’s a season 5 AU since it was written post season 4 but before seeing any of season 5, and it’s…well I mean like I said, it’s super old. I think I’d do it a little differently and a little better now, but what the hell, still gonna post it anyway, lol
Title? Idk, but I’m just…leaving it, haha
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Castiel almost sighed when he actually saw the neon sign, let his shoulders hunch up just a little in as much of a sulk as he’d allow himself to show. Only for Dean would he be willing to do this. He’d spent some time drinking with Dean over the past few months, and it was an experience he hadn’t really minded. He was worried about how much alcohol Dean seemed to go through, but he was actually down from the amount of drinking he’d gone through last year, so Castiel had thought it wise not to complain. In the privacy of their rooms where they could watch late night TV infomercials and laugh with Sam about things that were only funny because they needed something to be, the alcohol had even been a little fun. Even more so the one night he had honestly gotten drunk, and he could remember making out with Dean for what felt like hours on the floor, the steady buzz of heat under his skin jolting hotter wherever Dean touched him. Apparently that one had been done in full view of Sam, though neither of them had realized it at the time. Sam had whined quite a bit about it the next day, but never with any real conviction. He was blessed, really, that Sam had taken to him so well.
Sam. That brought him back around to the reason they were here tonight. He stole a look at Dean, took in the hard lines of his face in the red orange glow. He looked exhausted, worn far too thin. Sam had almost been killed just two days before, and he was still recovering from the aftermath. The demon in question was dead, now, and that was all they’d told Sam. The truth of it was that Dean had taken off after it and Castiel and Bobby had take off after Dean, only to find him literally carving the man up with the knife. The fact that he was dead hadn’t been enough. They’d pulled him away, and once he’d seen that Sam was going to live, he had been pretty much alright.
At least, as alright as he was going to get. So after two days of watching over Sam 24/7, he’d grabbed Cas by the hand and dragged him out the door at midnight, telling him they were going to a bar. He’d seen enough bars in his time to know the draw they held had no pull on him whatsoever, and it would have been an understatement to say he really didn’t want to. But, Dean asked. So he went.
Dean finished parking the Impala and turned to smile at him, a real one that actually reached his eyes. Castiel couldn’t help but smile back, could feel his heart warming in his chest. Even now, even this upset, Dean could still smile at him like that. Nothing he had ever done in his entire existence made him worthy of this man’s love, but he gave it anyway. It was nothing short of astounding.
“Ready?”
“No.” He told the truth, smiling a little wider when Dean laughed, opening the door and climbing out.
“Ah c’mon, Cas, it’ll be fun. I should’a taken you out to a bar way before now.” Cas pulled himself up out of the passenger seat, fell in step behind Dean and was surprised when Dean moved close, brushed a hand across the small of his back. “This is ok, right?”
“Of course.” Maybe it would be, after all. Honestly, he only knew what he’d watched, before. He had been far less human then than he felt now. The bar was dark and smoky, a song he recognized from Dean’s box of cassettes playing mutedly from an old jukebox. Dean led the way to a table at the back, let his fingertips brush over the back of Castiel’s hand as he took his seat. “Alright, just wait here. I’ll go get us drinks and I’ll be right back. You know what you want?”
Castiel cocked his head, thinking. “That drink Sam makes, the one with pinapple and-“
Dean rolled his eyes, waving him off. “Forget it. I’ll get you something good, ok? No way he’s turning you into a girl.”
Castiel chuckled softly, amused and happy that they had come far enough in their relationship for Dean to not wish he was a girl. “Whatever you like then. I’ll try it.”
Dean headed off toward the crowded bar, Castiel losing sight of him quickly in the haze and the mass of bodies. He shifted in the chair, looked around. This was a world he’d always wanted to avoid. His powers weren’t what they once had been, but he could still see the souls and most of them here were so very battered. Some angry, some violent, some just plain alone. And Dean’s, that one he would know anywhere. He could only catch a glimpse when he scanned the waiting crowd around the bar but it was bright, incandescent and beautiful and so much less tarnished than Dean himself would have expected. The trials of the apocalypse and those of the year before had taken a lot out of Dean, but with Sam healed and in the fight again, he was slowly starting to recover. With all his heart, Castiel hoped that he was part of the reason, too.
It was the whispering at the next table that finally drew him out of his thoughts, the sound of it louder and nearer than it had been a minute before. He turned his head, was surprised to see a tall, dark haired man moving in close, one hand coming down on the table in front of him.
“You’re new around here.”
“Just move in?”
He turned, a little startled to find that another of the men had moved in close as well, standing just to his right and back a little, a taller red haired man looking over his shoulder. His eyes flicked away shyly, uncertain. He still didn’t often talk to those who didn’t know what he was. It was…odd, pretending to be wholly human sometimes. Still, he was getting better at it. “No. I’m…here on business.”
The first one, the dark haired one in front leaned in closer, enough that Cas shifted back. “Business, huh? Well I’m glad you had time to come out. I’m Tyler.”
“Castiel.” He muttered his name quietly, eyes darting away again. This felt uncomfortable, wrong. He was close enough that he could feel the heat from his breath, smell the alcohol on it.
“Castiel, huh? Unusual. Suits you.” His eyes skimmed low, and Castiel could practically feel them lingering on the way Dean’s Blue Oyster Cult t-shirt rode up just a little above his jeans on the side. “ M’ name’s Tyler.” The man’s words were heavily slurred, and it was clear he should’ve quit several beers ago. “These’re my buddies, Tom and Ray. And you…” he leered in what he must have thought was a good gesture. “You’re the most gorgeous guy I think I’ve ever seen walk in this old place, Castiel. So what would say to us buying you a drink, hm?”
He swallowed, held the strangers gaze as he answered. “No, thank you. Dean will be back any minute.”
One of the other ones shifted, pressed almost against the back of his chair. “Dean, huh? Boyfriend?”
“Yes.” It felt good to say it like that, even to these fools.
“Aw, c’mon sugar.” The one on the side stumbled a little, his hand shooting out to land on Castiel’s thigh, sliding up it before he could jerk away. “The three of us’d be more fun than him. C’mon let us get you a drink.”
He had shot to his feet to get away from that man’s hands, only to find his arms gripped hard by the man behind him. “Or better yet, just get out of here with us now. Finest piece of ass I’ve seen in a long time, and that’s a compliment you know.” His words were even more slurred, running drunkenly together. One hand slide down from gripping his wrist to palm his ass, squeezing. “Damn fine.”
“I said no.” He said it as sharp as he could but it didn’t do any good, their hands tightening, closing in. He should’ve tried to fight them off, and he knew it, but he had never been more out of his element. This wasn’t demons or even anything he’d remotely ever dealt with. And besides, all his fighting powers had been depleted for a few days. He was stuck with his human physical strength only, and he could never overpower the three of these brutes. He was overwhelmed, and he could feel the fear pricking at him from the inside, wished desperately that Dean would see. He struggled but the grip tightened, the man’s words slurred and mockingly soothing. “Hey, babe, it’s ok. Just relax, huh?”
No one but Dean called him that, and the fact that this man dared turned his stomach. He struggled harder, and there was a flurry of hands changing grips before he got a swift, poorly aimed punch to the gut. “Settle down, alright? You’ll like us once you get to know us, I promise.”
The dark haired one leaned in, gripping his chin and trying to force it to turn, obviously moving in for a kiss. He fought it, fear coiling tight in his chest. Where was Dean? “No.” He shoved it out through clenched teeth, and his voice came out far stronger than he felt. He felt wet sloppy lips against his cheek, at the edge of his lips…
Then nothing, a rush of cold air in his place instead. He turned just in time to see Dean’s first punch connect on the drunk’s jaw, the second taking him in the eye. With a third split second move he had kneed him hard in the groin, shoving him back so violently he knocked over two chairs and a nearby table.
When he turned to face them, Castiel’s breath caught in his chest. He had on very few occasions ever seen Dean so furious, and he had never seen this exact look in his eyes before. It was primal, dangerous, and he knew if he didn’t stop him all three men would be dead when he was finished with them. To their credit, the two holding him had enough sense to let go before Dean reached them. Not that it did them any good. The one to the side was thrown almost clear, knocking through two bar stools, his head hitting one with a sickening thud. The one that had been holding his wrists behind his back ended up against the wall, Dean’s hand hard and unyielding against his throat.
“What the hell do you think you were doin’, huh? Did you hurt him?” His voice shook with fury, his fist cocked back ready to knock the man’s head into the wall.
He shook his head almost comically, dizzily. “No, no man, we were just havin’ fun, trying to get him to join us, we-“
“Did you hurt him you son of a bitch?”
Castiel stepped forward, still a little shaken but alright, now that Dean was here. “Dean.” He pressed his palm against his back, warm and reassuring. Those fiery green eyes whipped around to fall on him, and it was truly incredibly how fast they softened. “I’m alright. Let’s just go.”
Dean shook his head, anger rising in his eyes again as his hand flexed on the man’s throat. “Not after what they almost-“
They really hadn’t been paying attention to the other patrons at all, but even in this seedy place a fight that big couldn’t go unnoticed. Someone watching the fight in the background had yelled out something about the police, and they were both well enough trained at catching that word to hear it over the commotion. Dean stopped, clearly torn.
Castiel pressed his palm tighter to Dean’s back, insistent. “Let’s just go.”
He all but threw the man to the floor, grabbed Castiel’s hand in his, gripping painfully tight before dragging him out the door. He didn’t speak on the way to the car, slammed the door hard enough to rattle the glass when he climbed in. They roared out of the parking lot, and there silence awhile before he finally spoke, his voice still rough.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No, Dean. I’m alright.” Not entirely true. He was more shaken up than he cared to admit, frightened at the thought of what could have happened if Dean hadn’t been there. He was bound to this fragile human body now, and if he depleted his meager powers in battle as he often did, he had little training in how to defend himself. If he had been alone, that would have gone a great deal worse.
“Are you sure? They didn’t…he didn’t…” He couldn’t seem to finish a sentence, his hands tightening on the steering wheel and drawing Castiel’s attention to the fact that his knuckles were bleeding. “Those sons of bitches!” He drew his hand back and slammed it down on the wheel again hard, jarring. He took a deep breath, glanced off the road long enough to look over at Cas. “Cas, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Dean, there’s nothing you should apologize for. Nothing at all.” His voice must have carried some of the bitter frustration he felt, and without looking up at Dean he could feel the burning glance he gave him. Seconds later, the car was pulling to a stop on the side of the road.
“What’s all that supposed to mean, huh? Cas, what is it?” He slid close on the bench seat, one arm coming around Castiel’s shoulders, the other bringing his hand up to trace Castiel’s cheek. “You sure you’re ok?”
“I…I was terrified, Dean.”
He heard Dean’s teeth grind together, could practically feel the fury pouring off of him. “Well of course you-“
“No, I was literally terrified. I was powerless. And I wouldn’t have been able to fight them off, not on my own.” He swallowed hard, felt the sick feeling he didn’t want to focus on settle into his stomach. “I’ve seen this coming for awhile now, but I never thought it would be anything like this that would make it so clear…”
“Cas, what the hell are you talking about? C’mon, spit it out.”
Castiel licked his lips, felt his heart twist. “I am a liability for you. I’m…I’m not as strong as you or Sam, and who knows if or when my powers will leave me completely. Then, I’ll be of no use to you at all. Simply a burden.” His eyes were downcast, staring intently at the floorboard. “And for that I’m sorry. I truly am. And I think I should-“
“Stop it.” His voice was thick with something like tears, and that alone was enough to make him look up. His eyes shone with them, far more angry than hurt though that was there as well. “So you’re just gonna leave me too, are you? I thought….” He laughed, bitter. “Well I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought.”
Putting it like that, it sounded as selfish, as childish as it was, and he was instantly sorry he’d ever thought it. He took Dean’s face in his hands and Dean met him in the middle, their lips crashing together with almost painful force. It was harsh and fast and they were both breathing heavy already, the emotional strain already pressing in on their ribs. Before he knew it he was straddling Dean’s lap, the hunter’s familiar warm, calloused hands running up under the thin t-shirt and across his ribs.
“I’m sorry, Dean.” He mumbled it against his lips, unwilling to fully break contact.
Dean dragged him just a little closer, held him desperately tight, his hands slipping down to grip his hips. “Just stop talkin’ like that, ok? I finally got Sam to stop saying it, now you…don’t you start this on me too.”
“I won’t. I won’t. I’m sorry.” The conversation was harried, disjointed, their lips meeting between every few words.
Dean’s hands slid lower, rubbed his ass through the jeans and he panted, his hips rocking forward, pressing Dean into the seat.
Dean pulled back, lips damp and warm and comforting against his ear. “You sure you’re ok? They didn’t…”
“It’s ok. They were…” He shuddered internally at the memory. “I was glad you got there when you did. They…couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”
Dean growled, his hands tightening on Castiel’s hips. “Just thinking about those sleazy bastards touchin’ you…”
“It’s alright, Dean. It’s alright.”
“Cas, I’m sorry, you didn’t wanna go and I-“
“Shh. Just kiss me.” Dean complied, moved one hand up to tangle in his hair, his tongue languidly tangling with Castiel’s until he moaned into Dean’s mouth, Dean answering with a low appreciative sound of his own.
When they broke apart Dean’s hands were toying with the hem of his shirt, pushing it up again. “Have to say, I kinda can’t blame the poor bastards. You look so good in this, Cas.” Even more so to Dean, Castiel knew. One thing he had learned about Dean early on, seeing Cas in his shirts and jeans was a major turn on. “Except…” Dean leaned in, licked a hot line up his neck. “If I had been hitting on you in a bar…” He paused, sucked right over his pulse. “I’d’ve done it with some freakin’ class.” He rubbed his back, soothing. “And I would’ve absolutely been hitting on you. As hard as I could.”
Castiel smiled just a little, turned his head to kiss Dean’s temple. “I’d’ve fallen for it. I would go home with you.”
“That so, huh?” Dean bit down on his neck, gentle pressure. “Well then…care to come home with me now?” He pulled back, panting, the early fear and even the anger drained out of his eyes. “Cause in about 5 minutes I’m not gonna be able to peel myself off of you, and much as I love my baby, this could get a little cramped.”
Castiel smiled, warm, leaned in for one more kiss. “Yes. Let’s go.”
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Rating: R
Genre and/or Pairing: Supernatural; Dean/Cas
Warnings: language, alcohol, some touching and kissing but no sex
Word Count: 3,182
Summary: Post Season 4 AU; Dean takes nearly!human Cas out to a bar after the end of a hard hunt. But he's not the only one capable of noticing Cas, and the whole thing doesn't go quite like he planned...
Written forever ago for a prompt on a meme, and somehow it never actually got posted to my journal, O.o
Ok, so this is something I wrote forever ago…literally one of the first Dean/Cas fics I ever did, <3 It was a response to a prompt on some kind of meme…a h/c meme I think, but I can’t remember. Anyway, I filled it and posted the fill to the meme but somehow it got lost on my computer and never actually got posted anywhere so…here it is, ^^
It’s a season 5 AU since it was written post season 4 but before seeing any of season 5, and it’s…well I mean like I said, it’s super old. I think I’d do it a little differently and a little better now, but what the hell, still gonna post it anyway, lol
Title? Idk, but I’m just…leaving it, haha
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Castiel almost sighed when he actually saw the neon sign, let his shoulders hunch up just a little in as much of a sulk as he’d allow himself to show. Only for Dean would he be willing to do this. He’d spent some time drinking with Dean over the past few months, and it was an experience he hadn’t really minded. He was worried about how much alcohol Dean seemed to go through, but he was actually down from the amount of drinking he’d gone through last year, so Castiel had thought it wise not to complain. In the privacy of their rooms where they could watch late night TV infomercials and laugh with Sam about things that were only funny because they needed something to be, the alcohol had even been a little fun. Even more so the one night he had honestly gotten drunk, and he could remember making out with Dean for what felt like hours on the floor, the steady buzz of heat under his skin jolting hotter wherever Dean touched him. Apparently that one had been done in full view of Sam, though neither of them had realized it at the time. Sam had whined quite a bit about it the next day, but never with any real conviction. He was blessed, really, that Sam had taken to him so well.
Sam. That brought him back around to the reason they were here tonight. He stole a look at Dean, took in the hard lines of his face in the red orange glow. He looked exhausted, worn far too thin. Sam had almost been killed just two days before, and he was still recovering from the aftermath. The demon in question was dead, now, and that was all they’d told Sam. The truth of it was that Dean had taken off after it and Castiel and Bobby had take off after Dean, only to find him literally carving the man up with the knife. The fact that he was dead hadn’t been enough. They’d pulled him away, and once he’d seen that Sam was going to live, he had been pretty much alright.
At least, as alright as he was going to get. So after two days of watching over Sam 24/7, he’d grabbed Cas by the hand and dragged him out the door at midnight, telling him they were going to a bar. He’d seen enough bars in his time to know the draw they held had no pull on him whatsoever, and it would have been an understatement to say he really didn’t want to. But, Dean asked. So he went.
Dean finished parking the Impala and turned to smile at him, a real one that actually reached his eyes. Castiel couldn’t help but smile back, could feel his heart warming in his chest. Even now, even this upset, Dean could still smile at him like that. Nothing he had ever done in his entire existence made him worthy of this man’s love, but he gave it anyway. It was nothing short of astounding.
“Ready?”
“No.” He told the truth, smiling a little wider when Dean laughed, opening the door and climbing out.
“Ah c’mon, Cas, it’ll be fun. I should’a taken you out to a bar way before now.” Cas pulled himself up out of the passenger seat, fell in step behind Dean and was surprised when Dean moved close, brushed a hand across the small of his back. “This is ok, right?”
“Of course.” Maybe it would be, after all. Honestly, he only knew what he’d watched, before. He had been far less human then than he felt now. The bar was dark and smoky, a song he recognized from Dean’s box of cassettes playing mutedly from an old jukebox. Dean led the way to a table at the back, let his fingertips brush over the back of Castiel’s hand as he took his seat. “Alright, just wait here. I’ll go get us drinks and I’ll be right back. You know what you want?”
Castiel cocked his head, thinking. “That drink Sam makes, the one with pinapple and-“
Dean rolled his eyes, waving him off. “Forget it. I’ll get you something good, ok? No way he’s turning you into a girl.”
Castiel chuckled softly, amused and happy that they had come far enough in their relationship for Dean to not wish he was a girl. “Whatever you like then. I’ll try it.”
Dean headed off toward the crowded bar, Castiel losing sight of him quickly in the haze and the mass of bodies. He shifted in the chair, looked around. This was a world he’d always wanted to avoid. His powers weren’t what they once had been, but he could still see the souls and most of them here were so very battered. Some angry, some violent, some just plain alone. And Dean’s, that one he would know anywhere. He could only catch a glimpse when he scanned the waiting crowd around the bar but it was bright, incandescent and beautiful and so much less tarnished than Dean himself would have expected. The trials of the apocalypse and those of the year before had taken a lot out of Dean, but with Sam healed and in the fight again, he was slowly starting to recover. With all his heart, Castiel hoped that he was part of the reason, too.
It was the whispering at the next table that finally drew him out of his thoughts, the sound of it louder and nearer than it had been a minute before. He turned his head, was surprised to see a tall, dark haired man moving in close, one hand coming down on the table in front of him.
“You’re new around here.”
“Just move in?”
He turned, a little startled to find that another of the men had moved in close as well, standing just to his right and back a little, a taller red haired man looking over his shoulder. His eyes flicked away shyly, uncertain. He still didn’t often talk to those who didn’t know what he was. It was…odd, pretending to be wholly human sometimes. Still, he was getting better at it. “No. I’m…here on business.”
The first one, the dark haired one in front leaned in closer, enough that Cas shifted back. “Business, huh? Well I’m glad you had time to come out. I’m Tyler.”
“Castiel.” He muttered his name quietly, eyes darting away again. This felt uncomfortable, wrong. He was close enough that he could feel the heat from his breath, smell the alcohol on it.
“Castiel, huh? Unusual. Suits you.” His eyes skimmed low, and Castiel could practically feel them lingering on the way Dean’s Blue Oyster Cult t-shirt rode up just a little above his jeans on the side. “ M’ name’s Tyler.” The man’s words were heavily slurred, and it was clear he should’ve quit several beers ago. “These’re my buddies, Tom and Ray. And you…” he leered in what he must have thought was a good gesture. “You’re the most gorgeous guy I think I’ve ever seen walk in this old place, Castiel. So what would say to us buying you a drink, hm?”
He swallowed, held the strangers gaze as he answered. “No, thank you. Dean will be back any minute.”
One of the other ones shifted, pressed almost against the back of his chair. “Dean, huh? Boyfriend?”
“Yes.” It felt good to say it like that, even to these fools.
“Aw, c’mon sugar.” The one on the side stumbled a little, his hand shooting out to land on Castiel’s thigh, sliding up it before he could jerk away. “The three of us’d be more fun than him. C’mon let us get you a drink.”
He had shot to his feet to get away from that man’s hands, only to find his arms gripped hard by the man behind him. “Or better yet, just get out of here with us now. Finest piece of ass I’ve seen in a long time, and that’s a compliment you know.” His words were even more slurred, running drunkenly together. One hand slide down from gripping his wrist to palm his ass, squeezing. “Damn fine.”
“I said no.” He said it as sharp as he could but it didn’t do any good, their hands tightening, closing in. He should’ve tried to fight them off, and he knew it, but he had never been more out of his element. This wasn’t demons or even anything he’d remotely ever dealt with. And besides, all his fighting powers had been depleted for a few days. He was stuck with his human physical strength only, and he could never overpower the three of these brutes. He was overwhelmed, and he could feel the fear pricking at him from the inside, wished desperately that Dean would see. He struggled but the grip tightened, the man’s words slurred and mockingly soothing. “Hey, babe, it’s ok. Just relax, huh?”
No one but Dean called him that, and the fact that this man dared turned his stomach. He struggled harder, and there was a flurry of hands changing grips before he got a swift, poorly aimed punch to the gut. “Settle down, alright? You’ll like us once you get to know us, I promise.”
The dark haired one leaned in, gripping his chin and trying to force it to turn, obviously moving in for a kiss. He fought it, fear coiling tight in his chest. Where was Dean? “No.” He shoved it out through clenched teeth, and his voice came out far stronger than he felt. He felt wet sloppy lips against his cheek, at the edge of his lips…
Then nothing, a rush of cold air in his place instead. He turned just in time to see Dean’s first punch connect on the drunk’s jaw, the second taking him in the eye. With a third split second move he had kneed him hard in the groin, shoving him back so violently he knocked over two chairs and a nearby table.
When he turned to face them, Castiel’s breath caught in his chest. He had on very few occasions ever seen Dean so furious, and he had never seen this exact look in his eyes before. It was primal, dangerous, and he knew if he didn’t stop him all three men would be dead when he was finished with them. To their credit, the two holding him had enough sense to let go before Dean reached them. Not that it did them any good. The one to the side was thrown almost clear, knocking through two bar stools, his head hitting one with a sickening thud. The one that had been holding his wrists behind his back ended up against the wall, Dean’s hand hard and unyielding against his throat.
“What the hell do you think you were doin’, huh? Did you hurt him?” His voice shook with fury, his fist cocked back ready to knock the man’s head into the wall.
He shook his head almost comically, dizzily. “No, no man, we were just havin’ fun, trying to get him to join us, we-“
“Did you hurt him you son of a bitch?”
Castiel stepped forward, still a little shaken but alright, now that Dean was here. “Dean.” He pressed his palm against his back, warm and reassuring. Those fiery green eyes whipped around to fall on him, and it was truly incredibly how fast they softened. “I’m alright. Let’s just go.”
Dean shook his head, anger rising in his eyes again as his hand flexed on the man’s throat. “Not after what they almost-“
They really hadn’t been paying attention to the other patrons at all, but even in this seedy place a fight that big couldn’t go unnoticed. Someone watching the fight in the background had yelled out something about the police, and they were both well enough trained at catching that word to hear it over the commotion. Dean stopped, clearly torn.
Castiel pressed his palm tighter to Dean’s back, insistent. “Let’s just go.”
He all but threw the man to the floor, grabbed Castiel’s hand in his, gripping painfully tight before dragging him out the door. He didn’t speak on the way to the car, slammed the door hard enough to rattle the glass when he climbed in. They roared out of the parking lot, and there silence awhile before he finally spoke, his voice still rough.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No, Dean. I’m alright.” Not entirely true. He was more shaken up than he cared to admit, frightened at the thought of what could have happened if Dean hadn’t been there. He was bound to this fragile human body now, and if he depleted his meager powers in battle as he often did, he had little training in how to defend himself. If he had been alone, that would have gone a great deal worse.
“Are you sure? They didn’t…he didn’t…” He couldn’t seem to finish a sentence, his hands tightening on the steering wheel and drawing Castiel’s attention to the fact that his knuckles were bleeding. “Those sons of bitches!” He drew his hand back and slammed it down on the wheel again hard, jarring. He took a deep breath, glanced off the road long enough to look over at Cas. “Cas, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Dean, there’s nothing you should apologize for. Nothing at all.” His voice must have carried some of the bitter frustration he felt, and without looking up at Dean he could feel the burning glance he gave him. Seconds later, the car was pulling to a stop on the side of the road.
“What’s all that supposed to mean, huh? Cas, what is it?” He slid close on the bench seat, one arm coming around Castiel’s shoulders, the other bringing his hand up to trace Castiel’s cheek. “You sure you’re ok?”
“I…I was terrified, Dean.”
He heard Dean’s teeth grind together, could practically feel the fury pouring off of him. “Well of course you-“
“No, I was literally terrified. I was powerless. And I wouldn’t have been able to fight them off, not on my own.” He swallowed hard, felt the sick feeling he didn’t want to focus on settle into his stomach. “I’ve seen this coming for awhile now, but I never thought it would be anything like this that would make it so clear…”
“Cas, what the hell are you talking about? C’mon, spit it out.”
Castiel licked his lips, felt his heart twist. “I am a liability for you. I’m…I’m not as strong as you or Sam, and who knows if or when my powers will leave me completely. Then, I’ll be of no use to you at all. Simply a burden.” His eyes were downcast, staring intently at the floorboard. “And for that I’m sorry. I truly am. And I think I should-“
“Stop it.” His voice was thick with something like tears, and that alone was enough to make him look up. His eyes shone with them, far more angry than hurt though that was there as well. “So you’re just gonna leave me too, are you? I thought….” He laughed, bitter. “Well I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought.”
Putting it like that, it sounded as selfish, as childish as it was, and he was instantly sorry he’d ever thought it. He took Dean’s face in his hands and Dean met him in the middle, their lips crashing together with almost painful force. It was harsh and fast and they were both breathing heavy already, the emotional strain already pressing in on their ribs. Before he knew it he was straddling Dean’s lap, the hunter’s familiar warm, calloused hands running up under the thin t-shirt and across his ribs.
“I’m sorry, Dean.” He mumbled it against his lips, unwilling to fully break contact.
Dean dragged him just a little closer, held him desperately tight, his hands slipping down to grip his hips. “Just stop talkin’ like that, ok? I finally got Sam to stop saying it, now you…don’t you start this on me too.”
“I won’t. I won’t. I’m sorry.” The conversation was harried, disjointed, their lips meeting between every few words.
Dean’s hands slid lower, rubbed his ass through the jeans and he panted, his hips rocking forward, pressing Dean into the seat.
Dean pulled back, lips damp and warm and comforting against his ear. “You sure you’re ok? They didn’t…”
“It’s ok. They were…” He shuddered internally at the memory. “I was glad you got there when you did. They…couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”
Dean growled, his hands tightening on Castiel’s hips. “Just thinking about those sleazy bastards touchin’ you…”
“It’s alright, Dean. It’s alright.”
“Cas, I’m sorry, you didn’t wanna go and I-“
“Shh. Just kiss me.” Dean complied, moved one hand up to tangle in his hair, his tongue languidly tangling with Castiel’s until he moaned into Dean’s mouth, Dean answering with a low appreciative sound of his own.
When they broke apart Dean’s hands were toying with the hem of his shirt, pushing it up again. “Have to say, I kinda can’t blame the poor bastards. You look so good in this, Cas.” Even more so to Dean, Castiel knew. One thing he had learned about Dean early on, seeing Cas in his shirts and jeans was a major turn on. “Except…” Dean leaned in, licked a hot line up his neck. “If I had been hitting on you in a bar…” He paused, sucked right over his pulse. “I’d’ve done it with some freakin’ class.” He rubbed his back, soothing. “And I would’ve absolutely been hitting on you. As hard as I could.”
Castiel smiled just a little, turned his head to kiss Dean’s temple. “I’d’ve fallen for it. I would go home with you.”
“That so, huh?” Dean bit down on his neck, gentle pressure. “Well then…care to come home with me now?” He pulled back, panting, the early fear and even the anger drained out of his eyes. “Cause in about 5 minutes I’m not gonna be able to peel myself off of you, and much as I love my baby, this could get a little cramped.”
Castiel smiled, warm, leaned in for one more kiss. “Yes. Let’s go.”
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