Graphics for The Pink Triangle
The Pink Triangle
mishasfakeorgasm
Summary:
What do you do when a stranger shows up at your front door in the middle of the night, begging for your help?
It's the eve of World War Two, and the Nazis are persecuting people all over the country. Castiel Novak was never one to take risks, especially anything as drastic as hiding refugees. It was too risky, and not at all worth it for him. However, a mix up leaving Dean Winchester on his doorstep forces Cas to reevaluate his morals and decide what to do with the man.
DIVIDER
If you couldn't tell, this fic is set in Nazi Germany starting in the 30s. I chose to do a black and white theme throughout the art work, and as you'll see, do an aged style to the photos. When it came to the triangle and the pattern for the clothing, it felt wrong to change those -- same with the other triangles in the banner -- so I chose to keep their color and their significance intact.
I also chose to keep the dates in pink to go along with the title.
“Winchester. Dean Winchester,” the green-eyed man supplied. The tone in which Dean said this made it seem like Cas should recognize the name, but Cas was drawing a blank. Was this man famous? Why would Cas know who he was?
Cas carried Dean’s plate down the stairs into the basement where he found Dean sitting on his mattress, reading a book. Cas recognized the tome as one of his own and he was glad that Dean had let himself into Cas’ extensive collection of novels. Dean was intensely absorbed in the story, his brow crinkled endearingly as he read. He had yet to notice Cas’ presence.
After that, it was chaos. Cas and Dean were running around the room, smacking each other with pillows as hard as they could, all while roaring with laugher and trying not to trip over the bed or slip on the sheets as they scurried around the room. The two grown men were acting like a couple of children at a sleepover party, and neither of them could remember the last time they had this much genuine fun.
It had started in an organized fashion. Cas was a professional, after all. Cas showed Dean how to properly form a crust, rolling it out onto the counter. Dean pretended to have trouble with it, and Cas played along; he sidled up behind Dean, taking his arms in hand and working him through the motions. It was cheesy, but they had fun.
Cas stood in shock, staring at the man on his doorstep. The man considered him for a moment, then stage whispered, “Are you going to let me in? It’s awfully rude to leave your family out on the doorstep, you know.” He chuckled at himself.
After laying there for a few minutes, Dean forced himself to get up. He took a damp rag and went to the bathroom mirror, twisting around as best he could to clean himself up. The cloth stung the wounds as well, but Dean pushed through the pain. Once he had cleaned the majority of the dried mixture of semen and blood, Dean was able to clearly see the word that Alastair had so carefully etched into his skin. Schwanzlutscher.
Dean turned the car off and jumped out, his hair mussed from the wind and his eyes blown wide with excitement. He looked like he had just had sex, not driven around the block in an old car. In that moment, Cas didn't care about the mechanic act. He wanted to bend Dean over the hood of the car in broad daylight and fuck him until he could no longer walk. Dean looked downright edible
Dean bent down to kiss Cas again, making sure to rub his erection against Cas’ stomach as he did so. “I want this,” he whispered as he pulled away. “I really, really, really want this.” Dean emphasized each “really” with a roll of his hips, each harder than the last.
Alternate image or extra image from this scene
Returning upstairs, Dean took one last look around the house that had become his home these past few years. A lot had changed since then, that was for sure. Before he could change his mind, Dean stepped outside and shut the door. He heard the click of the lock and knew there was no going back.
Alternate image or extra image from this scene
Cas felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he was unable to see the dough anymore. Against his will, he began to cry in earnest, sliding to the ground against the workstation in defeat. Cas sat, alone, sobs wracking his body as he cried into his apron. All he wanted was for someone to hold him, tell him it would all be alright, but the person he wanted to comfort him was the reason he needed comfort in the first place. Cas had never felt more alone.
Are you seriously going to give up hope, just like that? Maybe I was wrong about you, Castiel. The Castiel I knew wouldn't give up on the man he loves so easily.”
Benny scoffed. “Nah, I don’t care about that. We’re in this together, you and me, till the very end.”
Benny put up a small fight, but eventually agreed to let Cas give him the money. As Cas stood to leave, he fished a handful of Reichsmarks from his pocket and pressed them into Benny’s palm, closing the man’s fingers over the money. Cas could see tears of gratitude forming in Benny’s eyes as he thanked Cas over and over again.
Cas sat down on the mattress under the stairs, unmoved after almost ten years. There was a healthy layer of dust on it, and it no longer smelled like Dean, but the familiarity was comforting nonetheless. Cas lay back, closing his eyes as he did. If he imagined just right, he could almost feel the warmth of another body around his. “I love you, Dean. See you later. Bye.”