Northbound Countdown 5/10 (Dean/Misha, Dean/Cas)
Title: Northbound Countdown 5/10 (a/k/a 3.6.2009, 6 Days until SPN returns from break.)
Author: Nikki Loza (a/k/a calcium_yeah )
Disclaimer: A collection of people own Supernatural and its characters. Misha owns himself. I own nothing.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural/RPS
Genre/ Pairing: Slash. Dean/Misha. Contemplation of Dean/Castiel.
Spoilers: Takes place post-4x11 Sex and Violence.
Warnings: WIP written live over 10 days, so you may wish to wait until the end if you would like the full, edited version. Thoughts of angel!porn.
Notes: This is AU in the sense that Jensen, Misha, Jared etc. do not work on “Supernatural”, but rather as voiceover artists on a popular cartoon so they’re not as recognizable to the general public; I didn’t want to address Misha playing Castiel and Jensen playing Dean in this fic so Misha has never heard of the Winchesters, but Dean definitely recognizes Misha’s face as Castiel. Also, Misha’s single and has a home near Boston, while Jen and Jared are friends who live together in Vancouver.
Summary: Dean, pretending to be Jensen, gets some alone time with Misha, who he believes is Castiel’s vessel. 10 day Dean/Misha countdown to Supernatural's return from winter break.
The look on Sam’s face when he looked down at his ringing cell phone gave Dean a pretty good idea of who was calling. They didn’t discuss Ruby-Dean didn’t really trust her, but Sam obviously did and she’d came through for them enough that Dean would leave the whole situation alone until she gave him a reason not to. Still, Sam was always watching Dean for a reaction, and whatever he saw obviously told Sam that he needed to hide his meetings with Ruby from his brother.
Dean tried to keep his attention focused on Misha when Sam excused himself to take the call, but he could feel Sam throwing the puppy dog eyes at his head and he couldn’t stop himself from lowering his eyes to his glass, something that he’d been using for years as a shorthand for “just go”.
If Sam had told Ruby where they were going, then she was probably waiting for him just outside of the salt lines. The way things were going lately, Dean assumed that was the case.
“You’ve been quiet tonight.” Misha stood up and walked over from the chair where he’d been sitting and settled down beside Dean in the space that Sam had just vacated.
“Just enjoying the company, I guess.” Dean placed an arm on the back of the couch and twisted to get a better view of the man he’d been staring at all night.
“Is everything alright?” Misha squinted and it reminded Dean of the look that Castiel gave him when he realized Dean didn’t think he deserved to be saved-there was concern in that expression. “You and Jared are okay?”
“Yeah, we’re great.” It had become natural to pretend things were fine between him and Sam, but even pretending to be other people that part of their act was never convincing.
“Hmm. You seemed to be in another world all night.”
“What? Man, tonight was awesome-why would I want to go drifting off to someplace else?”
“I don’t know, you were just staring off into space-or at me, I couldn’t really tell,” Misha chuckled nervously, “You, uh, don’t normally keep your eyes so locked in my direction for so long.”
The muscles in Dean’s neck tensed-how could he get caught watching someone? He spent years training to be sly and subtle, yet someone he just met could pick up on what he was doing so easily.
The silence extended to an uncomfortable length as Dean had to fight through the excuses that he would normally give for staring and get to one that would make sense as far as what he knew of Jensen. He barely knew enough about the man to get through dinner, so he decided to play around with the truth.
“’s just I realized…that you look like someone I used to know.”
“You never mentioned that before.” Misha twisted towards Dean, leaning in a bit.
“Yeah.” Dean felt uncomfortable under Misha’s sudden interest and he turned his attention toward his own arm on the back of the couch. “Like I said, just realized it myself.”
“He was someone you knew well?”
Dean knew that this was a prime opportunity to try to trigger some recognition, maybe remind Misha that he’d been acting as an angel’s vessel for the last few months. He was torn though because he didn’t want to hit too close on the truth of what he was thinking-and he had to say “thinking”, “feeling” was just too Dr. Phil, just too much meaning.
Misha’s curious face, lips parted and eyebrows lowered, like Cas when he tried to understand-and that was the problem right there. Dean looked at that face and it was a constant reminder that he both wanted and didn’t want. He looked at that face and saw the one being whom he wanted to confide in-or maybe not “confide”, maybe have a vague allegory and hypothetical-filled conversation where he could work out his problem without being a girl about it.
How could he have this conversation with Sam? How could he come back after 40 years, or 4 months, or any amount of time and not feel the same connection with the brother he went to hell for, how could they lie to each other to the point where the kid he helped raise was unrecognizable, and how could he add to that strain by telling that baby brother that all Dean could think about was one of the angels who’d basically threatened to take him out?
And then there was the part of him that knew that his Sammy was still in there and would probably try to overanalyze everything that Dean told him and decide that Dean had some kind of unhealthy attachment to the angel that represents his salvation or some crap like that.
But Misha didn’t have that context, he’d only know what Dean told him and maybe it would help.
“I don’t know if I knew him. But, the longer I don’t see him, the more I realize that he got me, you know? It’d be nice to have that…again.” Dean tried to keep his words as general as possible.
“Well you and Jared seem to have that connection thing going on-live together, work together, don’t want to tear each others’ eyes out.”
“Heh,” Dean wondered again whether Misha was mixing up facts about Jensen and Jared with facts he’d learned about Sam and Dean while acting as a vessel for Cas. “It was just different. He, um, he was only really around for the big things so I never really got to have this kind of everyday thing with him-and I don’t know if that makes my whole idea of him kind of screwed or if I just-” Dean stopped himself mid-sentence and blew out a puff of air, unsure what he was about to say, but knowing that he was probably better off stopping whatever was about to come out.
“He’s…did you say he was ‘gone’?”
“Maybe. I’m kind of waiting to see.” Dean glanced back at Misha, not meaning to hold his gaze, but not wanting to turn away when he saw that wide-eyed sympathy in the other man’s eyes. “Have you really been okay lately? Not losing time? Seeing things you can’t really explain?”
“You asked me about having blackouts before, right? Is that happening to you? Does it have something to do with this…friend of yours that I look like?”
Dean breathed heavily. “There’s no way for me to do this is there?”
“No way for you to do what?”
Dean shook his head and Misha slid himself a few inches closer on the couch in order to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder.
“Is there something you’re trying to tell me-or ask me?” Misha had lowered his voice and sense memory kicked in, sending Dean images of Castiel, angel of the Lord, sitting in a park and confiding secrets that he had almost definitely never told another angel or another man.
“I want…” Dean’s voice cracked and he paused to gather his thoughts before continuing, determined to maintain eye contact. “I want to know something, but there’s really no way for me to…there’s no way for me to make this work the way I’m doing it now.”
“Maybe I think you’re doing just fine.” Misha licked his lips and Dean noticed they weren’t nearly as chapped as the ones on Cas’ vessel. Was this guy even Cas’ vessel at all?
“Am I?” Dean laughed sarcastically until he noticed Misha’s hand sliding along his shoulder in a comforting motion. “I’m not…I’m not hitting on you, you know?”
“I know.” Misha leaned in.
Previous Chapters: One Two Three Four
Author: Nikki Loza (a/k/a calcium_yeah )
Disclaimer: A collection of people own Supernatural and its characters. Misha owns himself. I own nothing.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural/RPS
Genre/ Pairing: Slash. Dean/Misha. Contemplation of Dean/Castiel.
Spoilers: Takes place post-4x11 Sex and Violence.
Warnings: WIP written live over 10 days, so you may wish to wait until the end if you would like the full, edited version. Thoughts of angel!porn.
Notes: This is AU in the sense that Jensen, Misha, Jared etc. do not work on “Supernatural”, but rather as voiceover artists on a popular cartoon so they’re not as recognizable to the general public; I didn’t want to address Misha playing Castiel and Jensen playing Dean in this fic so Misha has never heard of the Winchesters, but Dean definitely recognizes Misha’s face as Castiel. Also, Misha’s single and has a home near Boston, while Jen and Jared are friends who live together in Vancouver.
Summary: Dean, pretending to be Jensen, gets some alone time with Misha, who he believes is Castiel’s vessel. 10 day Dean/Misha countdown to Supernatural's return from winter break.
The look on Sam’s face when he looked down at his ringing cell phone gave Dean a pretty good idea of who was calling. They didn’t discuss Ruby-Dean didn’t really trust her, but Sam obviously did and she’d came through for them enough that Dean would leave the whole situation alone until she gave him a reason not to. Still, Sam was always watching Dean for a reaction, and whatever he saw obviously told Sam that he needed to hide his meetings with Ruby from his brother.
Dean tried to keep his attention focused on Misha when Sam excused himself to take the call, but he could feel Sam throwing the puppy dog eyes at his head and he couldn’t stop himself from lowering his eyes to his glass, something that he’d been using for years as a shorthand for “just go”.
If Sam had told Ruby where they were going, then she was probably waiting for him just outside of the salt lines. The way things were going lately, Dean assumed that was the case.
“You’ve been quiet tonight.” Misha stood up and walked over from the chair where he’d been sitting and settled down beside Dean in the space that Sam had just vacated.
“Just enjoying the company, I guess.” Dean placed an arm on the back of the couch and twisted to get a better view of the man he’d been staring at all night.
“Is everything alright?” Misha squinted and it reminded Dean of the look that Castiel gave him when he realized Dean didn’t think he deserved to be saved-there was concern in that expression. “You and Jared are okay?”
“Yeah, we’re great.” It had become natural to pretend things were fine between him and Sam, but even pretending to be other people that part of their act was never convincing.
“Hmm. You seemed to be in another world all night.”
“What? Man, tonight was awesome-why would I want to go drifting off to someplace else?”
“I don’t know, you were just staring off into space-or at me, I couldn’t really tell,” Misha chuckled nervously, “You, uh, don’t normally keep your eyes so locked in my direction for so long.”
The muscles in Dean’s neck tensed-how could he get caught watching someone? He spent years training to be sly and subtle, yet someone he just met could pick up on what he was doing so easily.
The silence extended to an uncomfortable length as Dean had to fight through the excuses that he would normally give for staring and get to one that would make sense as far as what he knew of Jensen. He barely knew enough about the man to get through dinner, so he decided to play around with the truth.
“’s just I realized…that you look like someone I used to know.”
“You never mentioned that before.” Misha twisted towards Dean, leaning in a bit.
“Yeah.” Dean felt uncomfortable under Misha’s sudden interest and he turned his attention toward his own arm on the back of the couch. “Like I said, just realized it myself.”
“He was someone you knew well?”
Dean knew that this was a prime opportunity to try to trigger some recognition, maybe remind Misha that he’d been acting as an angel’s vessel for the last few months. He was torn though because he didn’t want to hit too close on the truth of what he was thinking-and he had to say “thinking”, “feeling” was just too Dr. Phil, just too much meaning.
Misha’s curious face, lips parted and eyebrows lowered, like Cas when he tried to understand-and that was the problem right there. Dean looked at that face and it was a constant reminder that he both wanted and didn’t want. He looked at that face and saw the one being whom he wanted to confide in-or maybe not “confide”, maybe have a vague allegory and hypothetical-filled conversation where he could work out his problem without being a girl about it.
How could he have this conversation with Sam? How could he come back after 40 years, or 4 months, or any amount of time and not feel the same connection with the brother he went to hell for, how could they lie to each other to the point where the kid he helped raise was unrecognizable, and how could he add to that strain by telling that baby brother that all Dean could think about was one of the angels who’d basically threatened to take him out?
And then there was the part of him that knew that his Sammy was still in there and would probably try to overanalyze everything that Dean told him and decide that Dean had some kind of unhealthy attachment to the angel that represents his salvation or some crap like that.
But Misha didn’t have that context, he’d only know what Dean told him and maybe it would help.
“I don’t know if I knew him. But, the longer I don’t see him, the more I realize that he got me, you know? It’d be nice to have that…again.” Dean tried to keep his words as general as possible.
“Well you and Jared seem to have that connection thing going on-live together, work together, don’t want to tear each others’ eyes out.”
“Heh,” Dean wondered again whether Misha was mixing up facts about Jensen and Jared with facts he’d learned about Sam and Dean while acting as a vessel for Cas. “It was just different. He, um, he was only really around for the big things so I never really got to have this kind of everyday thing with him-and I don’t know if that makes my whole idea of him kind of screwed or if I just-” Dean stopped himself mid-sentence and blew out a puff of air, unsure what he was about to say, but knowing that he was probably better off stopping whatever was about to come out.
“He’s…did you say he was ‘gone’?”
“Maybe. I’m kind of waiting to see.” Dean glanced back at Misha, not meaning to hold his gaze, but not wanting to turn away when he saw that wide-eyed sympathy in the other man’s eyes. “Have you really been okay lately? Not losing time? Seeing things you can’t really explain?”
“You asked me about having blackouts before, right? Is that happening to you? Does it have something to do with this…friend of yours that I look like?”
Dean breathed heavily. “There’s no way for me to do this is there?”
“No way for you to do what?”
Dean shook his head and Misha slid himself a few inches closer on the couch in order to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder.
“Is there something you’re trying to tell me-or ask me?” Misha had lowered his voice and sense memory kicked in, sending Dean images of Castiel, angel of the Lord, sitting in a park and confiding secrets that he had almost definitely never told another angel or another man.
“I want…” Dean’s voice cracked and he paused to gather his thoughts before continuing, determined to maintain eye contact. “I want to know something, but there’s really no way for me to…there’s no way for me to make this work the way I’m doing it now.”
“Maybe I think you’re doing just fine.” Misha licked his lips and Dean noticed they weren’t nearly as chapped as the ones on Cas’ vessel. Was this guy even Cas’ vessel at all?
“Am I?” Dean laughed sarcastically until he noticed Misha’s hand sliding along his shoulder in a comforting motion. “I’m not…I’m not hitting on you, you know?”
“I know.” Misha leaned in.
Previous Chapters: One Two Three Four