I Am No Angel Chapter 11 Part 2
Title: I Am No Angel
Author: Miss Meh
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, Adam/Michael
Rating: NC-17 for swearing and explicit sex
Warnings: AU, copious amounts of fluff and sexual innuendo, fusion with Beauty and the Beast
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 8754
Status: WIP
Summary: His wings always seemed to be the problem, Castiel figured. But when he and his family move to Sioux Falls and he meets a Beast locked away in a castle, could his wings be the solution?
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Dean groaned and rolled over, slamming his pillow down over his face as the early morning sun started coming through the window closest to the bed. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to bury himself back into the rumpled sheets of his bed and sleep the rest of the day away. Sleep had been hard to come by the night before and… Dean’s eyes flew open and he went from a state of semi-consciousness to total awareness as he remembered the reason he had lain awake for hours last night.
Today was his wedding day. In practically no time at all, Dean would be standing up in front of a rather limited-yet still daunting-number of guests and promising to love one person for the rest of his life. What the fuck had he been thinking? He was Dean Winchester. He wasn’t cut out for even the smallest of commitments let alone ‘til death do us part’. He couldn’t go out there in front of all those people and pretend that he was.
Dean’s breathing quickened and his pulse raced. It wasn’t a panic attack-Dean Winchester didn’t do panic attacks-but it was getting dangerously close to one. What the fuck was he going to do? There was no way he could get married today, and yet the thought of the look this revelation would put on Cas’s face…
Cas. Dean’s thoughts came to a halt. His chest loosened and his heartbeats slowed to a normal rate as he remembered just who would be standing up next to him at the altar. He was marrying Cas. This wasn’t one of his random hookups or even one of the short-term girlfriends he had had back when he thought love was an uneven combination of lust and affection. No, this was Cas and, now that he knew what love really was, he realized that his angel wasn’t anything like the girls he had been with before. Those relationships-he wasn’t even sure if he could call them that-had been based on sex.
Not that the sex hadn’t been fucking awesome-it had been, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t have been trying to build relationships around it-but still, the point was that what he had with Cas was most likely going to be ten times more explosive than any of the coitus (heh, coitus, Dean thought, that is such a Cas word) he had engaged in previously.
He paused for a moment as he realized that he had just thought the words Cas and coitus in the same sentence, then let out a frustrated groan. Damn, it had been way too fucking long since he had gotten laid and thinking about sex in any context reminded him of the fact that tonight would be the first time for he and Cas. Just the thought of the things he wanted to do with his angel was making Dean’s dick start to harden. Fuck, what would happen when Cas touched him? At this rate, he would go off like some adolescent virgin who had just learned that his right hand wasn’t going to fucking cut it anymore. God, that would be so fucking embarrassing. Not that he really thought Cas would care all that much. After all, unlike Dean, Cas was a virgin and probably wouldn’t know the difference if the whole thing was over in less than five minutes. But hell, Dean didn’t want Cas’s first time to be a quick fuck. This was his Cas, his angel. Everything had to be perfect.
Dean took a calming breath as he tried to push coherent thoughts through his lust-addled brain. There was a simple enough solution to his problem. All he had to do was jerk off right before he and Cas left the reception. Dean was sure that by that point in the day, Cas would have already unknowingly made sure that he would need to. Really, Castiel had to be the most oblivious cocktease Dean had ever met. He had noticed it before they were bonded, but now that his awareness of Cas seemed to be multiplied tenfold, Dean realized that every single thing his angel did, from the open mouthed kisses-which Cas was getting way too good at-to the way he buttered his toast, was fucking sexy as hell.
His situation wasn’t improved any by the fact that Cas had told Dean that they weren’t allowed to do anything more than kiss until after they were married. Soon after they had settled the bond two weeks ago, Dean had made the mistake of pulling Cas into his lap while they were making out on one of the couches in the library. When the kisses had become more heated, he had instinctively moved his hips up against the ones straddling his own and for a moment, he felt his dick press against Cas’s through their clothes as the angel thrust back against him. A second later, Castiel was gone and Dean was opening his eyes in confusion. Cas had been standing in front of him, panting, his fists clenching and unclenching as though he were trying to keep himself from touching Dean again, and his wings fluttering in agitation. Dean remembered gaping at the angel, his brain attempting to process and come up with something to say. Finally, his mouth opening and he spat out, “What the hell, Cas?”
Even weeks later, Cas’s response still made him want to laugh almost as much as it made him want to cry. “Dean,” Cas had said. “I have perused several sources in an attempt to familiarize myself with human bonding rituals. According to many of the books I consulted, tradition dictates that the ‘bride’ must wear white and that this is a reflection of her chastity before the wedding. I am well aware that our union is by no means standard, however I would like to observe human customs where I am able and as I have yet to participate in sexual intercourse, I believe that we should observe this one.”
Dean had stared at him in slack-jawed astonishment. “But… Cas, a bride is female. We’re both guys.”
Cas had tilted his head. “I fail to see how this is of import. It is customary that one of the parties getting married wears white. Based on your age, I am relatively confident that you do not qualify…” The angel had paused for a moment to confirm his assumption and then continued when Dean nodded. “…and as I do not suffer from humanity’s preconceived notions on masculinity and gender, I have no objection to being a bride.”
Dean hadn’t said anything. He had really wanted to laugh-after all, the thought process was just so Cas-but at the same time, there was a part of Dean that had the overwhelming urge to just ignore Cas’s request and seduce the hell out of him. Almost as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he discarded it, ashamed with himself for thinking that way. Dean knew Cas would give into him eventually if he pressed-and he would enjoy it too-but he also knew that Castiel was probably using the ‘white wedding’ fantasy to cover up the fact that he wasn’t ready to have sex yet. Dean had been inside of Cas’s head and though he didn’t know everything there was to know about his bondmate, he had gotten a feel for how Cas’s mind worked.
The angel was fucking terrified of sex. This wasn’t something that he could learn about through books. Not really. It had to be experienced personally and that would require Cas to make himself vulnerable on a level that he had never been before. Rushing Cas wouldn’t help that in the long run. Dean would just have to wait until Cas came to him on his own terms.
Dean’s musings had been cut short when he noticed Cas shifting nervously as though waiting for Dean to speak. He had raised his head and given his angel a small smile. “If that is what you want Cas…” he had agreed softly. Cas’s eyes had been shining with relief and gratitude and, being Dean Winchester, he hadn’t been able to resist using humor to change the subject. Cas’s expression turned to one of wariness as he watched Dean’s smile turn into a teasing grin. “Sam will be so happy when he finds out that he gets to dress you up like a pretty princess for your wedding day. Maybe he’ll even let you borrow one of the tiaras from his collection.” He had let his voice drop to a whisper and leaned forward as though imparting a great secret. “And if you’re really lucky, he’ll let you wear the matching shoes.”
As he lay in his bed, Dean laughed out loud as he recalled the look of pure horror that had been on Cas’s face when Dean finished speaking. It was just one of those things that he loved about Cas. His angel didn’t have the most apparent sense of humor-no matter what anybody said, it did exist-but even when he wasn’t trying, Cas was fucking hilarious. Between his reactions and the way that, whether he was book smart or not, Cas still didn’t understand half of what was said to him, Dean knew that the rest of their lives would be full of laughter and love. And really, Dean thought. What more could a guy ask for?
When Dean finally dragged himself out of bed a while later, he was surprised to find that he had spent at least two hours lost in thought. Thank god his brothers would never find out about it. Dean would never hear the end of it if they did-Dean knows how to think? Hell, I didn’t even know he had a brain. Dean snorted. At least he knew he could count on Cas to back him up on that one.
The moment he stepped out of his room, Dean was cornered by Sam and Anna. “Finally,” Sam huffed. “I thought you were gonna sleep all day.”
They pushed Dean back into his room and closed the door behind them. “What the fuck?” Dean spluttered. “Sam, god damn it, let me the fuck out! I’m hungry.” Sam didn’t answer, just shoved a pastry at him with one hand and a cup of steaming hot coffee with the other, before moving over to help Anna rifle through Dean’s closet.
Dean gaped at them for a moment, barely able to process the fact that his brother’s masculinity had slipped just that much closer to being nonexistent. Dean had to wonder whether the signs of Sam being gay had gotten more obvious over the years or if he had just been completely oblivious before being cursed.
A commotion drew his attention out of his thoughts and back to Sam and Anna’s conversation. For fuck’s sake! he thought in exasperation when he realized that they were arguing about which shirt color would best complement Dean’s skin tone and eye color. In what universe did they think that Dean Winchester would ever wear a color called chartreuse?
The smell of coffee hit his nose, wafting up from the cup in his hand and reminding him of how hungry he really was. Dean looked down at his fucking delicious smelling breakfast, then back over at Sam and Anna. Did he want to eat or decide which color would ‘make his eyes pop’, as Sam so eloquently put it? Yeah, no brainer. He shrugged and decided that his stomach would always be more important, especially compared to this shit. They were going to dress him in whatever the fuck they wanted anyway. What was the point of getting involved when Dean was damn sure that in the end, his opinion wasn’t worth jack shit?
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of clothes and flowers and shit that Dean didn’t really give a fuck about. By the time he was making his way up to the make-shift altar with Sam and Adam-wearing that fucking chartreuse shirt, god damn it-Dean had come to the decision that he had better make this marriage to Cas count because he was never going to go through another god damned wedding again. Hell, if it hadn’t been Cas he was marrying, Dean was sure that none of this shit would be worth it.
A throat cleared beside Dean and he looked over to find the source of the noise. A short man with a beard stood beside him, dressed in a set of neat-looking priest’s robes that somehow failed to hide the sense of utter disorder that surrounded him. As Dean surveyed him, the man fidgeted in agitation before opening his mouth to speak. “I’m, um, Chuck?” the man stuttered. “I’ll be, um, performing the ceremony.” Chuck moved his shoulders restlessly and his hand twitched several times in the direction of his chest before he gave up on controlling the impulse to reach into the fold of cloth to pull out a metal flask. He took a healthy swig of the flask’s contents before holding it out toward Dean. “Holy water?”
Dean grinned. Hell, yeah. This was his kind of priest. None of that ‘holier than thou’ bullshit. He extended his hand to take the container, but before his fingers could so much as make contact, it was snatched away by a much smaller, much quicker set of hands. “Charles Shurley!” a young woman shrieked. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Chuck looked down. “This is my wife. Um, Becky?” he introduced.
“Dean,” he grunted. Becky ignored him.
“Chuck,” she said seriously. “We are at a wedding, one which you are presiding over. The only spirits you should be full of today should be the holy spirit.”
Chuck tried to protest. “But, Becky, they are holy spirits! I blessed them this morning!”
She gave him a withering glare, then turned to focus her attention on Dean. Fortunately for him, Sam stepped forward and interrupted. “Hey, it’s really nice to meet you guys, but the wedding is supposed to start in, like, five minutes and we really need to…” Becky’s gasp cut him off, causing everyone to look over at her. She was staring at Sam as though he were the meaning of life itself and well, to be honest, Dean thought it was more than a little bit creepy. Becky reached out one hand and let out a moan that sounded vaguely like a dying bird. Sam looked over at Dean in alarm. “Why is she looking at me like that?” he asked warily, edging back behind his brothers.
“You should ignore her?” Chuck advised them, still somehow managing to sound unsure of himself as he grabbed his wife and dragged her back behind him. “She gets this way sometimes.” He turned to Becky and, though it was apparent that Chuck was attempting to keep his voice down, Dean could still hear him hissing, “Becky, focus! It’s not every day we get asked to perform a wedding.” Becky’s eyes flitted away from Sam and narrowed in on her husband, before going wide again. She reached out a hand and tentatively started petting Chuck’s priestly garb, all the while making ridiculously creepy cooing noises at him. Chuck grabbed her hands gently, but firmly in his own. “Love, this is no time for the appearance of Becky, Fangirl of the Lord. She’s only supposed to come out when we’re alone, remember?”
Dean looked away from them quickly and shared a horrified look with his brothers. Before he could comment on it however, Anna hurried up to him and said, “Castiel is on his way down. Everybody take your places.”
Dean turned his back to the altar and jumped with surprise when he realized that the few chairs that had been put out for the members of the audience were already full. He swallowed nervously and straightened his spine reflexively. Why the fuck was everyone staring at him?
His discomfort vanished the minute Cas came into view. Dean’s eyes widened and his mouth went dry and his palms began to sweat. It was all so clichéd and yet Dean didn’t give a shit because Cas was there and he looked like a… well, an angel. Cas was dressed in white-which was expected-and blue-which was not-but, Dean hadn’t anticipated just how fucking awesome his angel would look.
Dean didn’t pay all that much attention to clothes. He supposed that after years of not wearing them, clothes just really weren’t all that important to him. Besides, if there was one thing he had learned from being cursed, it was that the inside of a person was what really mattered. After all, sometimes the prettiest of faces hid a demon bitch just waiting for her unsuspecting victim to drop his guard.
Anyway, the point of the matter was that Dean hadn’t really paid all that much attention to what Cas wore on a day to day basis. Really, whenever he did take note of Cas’s clothing, Dean was usually calculating whether removing said clothing would be quicker than simply tearing it to shreds. And though he had noticed that Cas had a tendency to wear clothes in very bland colors-Dean didn’t think he had ever seen Cas wear anything besides various shades of tan and black-he really hadn’t thought all that much about how his angel would look wearing something else.
At the moment, Cas was wearing a pair of white dress pants, a brilliant blue long-sleeved formal shirt, and a fitted white vest. Though it was almost exactly the same as what Dean was wearing-the only difference being that his pants and vest were black and his shirt was chartreuse-Dean could say with utmost certainty that the odd combination of clothing didn’t look nearly as good on him as they did on Cas.
Needless to say, white suited Cas. It had the singularly unique ability to highlight both the dark hue of his hair and wings as well as the pale coloring of his skin. And the blue… Dean had always had a thing for Cas’s eyes and the blue shirt he was wearing made them stand out. Dean suppressed a shudder. How the fuck was he supposed to last until after the wedding with Cas looking like that?
Dean didn’t notice that several moments had passed since Cas’s arrival until Bobby was removing the angel’s fingers from the crook of his elbow and placing them in Dean’s hand. He didn’t even have enough time to regret the fact that he had apparently missed Bobby walking Cas down the aisle-it would have been great material for teasing Bobby later-before Chuck was starting the ceremony.
Dean grasped Cas’s hand tightly with his own and met the angel’s gaze. Chuck’s words washed over him but, though he tried to concentrate on them, somehow his whole world was caught up in Castiel’s eyes and nothing outside of them seemed to make sense. Because of this, he was at a loss several minutes later when Sam kicked him hard in the back of the leg.
“Ouch,” he yelled, turning around to glare at his brother. “God damn it, Sam, that hurt!” Then Dean noticed that everyone was staring at him. “Shit.” He swung back around to look at Cas who was looking back with warm, amused eyes, as though he knew exactly what had distracted Dean and found it fucking hilarious.
“Dean?” Chuck asked hesitantly, right as Dean was leaning forward and examining Cas’s lips with way more focus than he should be at this point in the wedding.
Dean jerked back and swallowed thickly, turning his head toward Chuck. “Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?” he said gruffly. “Aren’t we supposed to be getting married?” Chuck floundered for a minute, but eventually did as Dean asked.
In an effort to keep his concentration, Dean tried to keep his eyes away from Castiel for the rest of the ceremony. Needless to say, Sam had to kick him again five minutes later.
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Bobby groaned. He should’ve known that idjit Dean wouldn’t be able to resist messing everything up somehow. The damned fool hadn’t even had much he was supposed to do. The officiator performed the ceremony, read the vows, and all Dean had to do was repeat them. But no… he had to go and get lost in that non-existent thing he called a brain.
Bobby barely resisted the urge to get up and smack the boy when he heard Dean start swearing at his brother. In the middle of his son’s wedding ceremony. Bobby gritted his teeth to prevent himself from causing an even bigger scene by adding in a few choice words of his own. He looked over at Castiel and, though he really shouldn’t have been, Bobby was surprised to see that his boy was simply staring at Dean fondly as his partner fidgeted nervously and ran his mouth like the god damned idjit he was.
Okay, Bobby thought a bit regretfully. Maybe I’m bein’ a bit hard on the boy. While there was no doubt in Bobby’s mind that Castiel’s soon-to-be-husband was an idjit, he also had to admit that Dean was growing on him. The problem was the fact that Dean was marrying Bobby’s son and, well, Bobby still wasn’t sure how to let Castiel go.
Until Lucifer, Bobby had never really feared that he would lose Castiel. The boy never left the house, so it wasn’t as if he was going to just go out one day and never come back and, though he didn’t say much, when he did speak, Castiel had always been one to say exactly what he was thinking-usually in the bluntest way, with the worst possible timing-so Bobby had never worried that his son would get unhappy and run away. After he had found out about the danger Lucifer was to Castiel, Bobby had suddenly needed to face the thought of losing his boy. Castiel had left home. He had been trapped in a castle and gone into battle. Hell, Castiel had even been killed-or so he thought. But even so, those weren’t the same type of loss and, if he were being honest with himself, Bobby would say that even after he had found out just how Castiel was supposed to be able to break Dean’s curse, he had never really even entertained the thought that Castiel would actually fall in love with Dean.
So, really, maybe he was the idjit. The signs had all been there, Bobby just hadn’t wanted to see them. And even after he had seen them… Well, by this point, Bobby had had a while to get used to the thought of Castiel and Dean, and it said something about his mind’s penchant for denial that he hadn’t expended any effort to actually do so.
Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, Bobby knew that he wasn’t really losing Castiel, and yet, at the same time, he couldn’t keep his more emotional side from feeling like he was. And somehow, these feelings had decided to express themselves by making Bobby act like an over-protective bastard engaged in the never-ending struggle to protect his daughter’s virginity for the rest of his life. And then even when he died, Bobby thought he might actually come back and attempt to do it for the rest of his afterlife as well.
Bobby snorted at that thought, almost unable to believe that this was what he was reduced to. It was pathetic.
He was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard Dean speaking. Bobby’s frustration with Dean came back almost immediately. What the heck was that idjit saying now? In fact, why was he even speaking at all?
A moment later when he realized that Dean was saying his vows, Bobby felt a hint of regret for thinking so harshly about his almost-son-in-law. Not that he would ever be willing to admit it, but still the feeling was there. As he deliberately turned his thoughts from his own inner turmoil back to his son’s wedding, Bobby couldn’t help but wonder why no one had told him that Castiel and Dean were writing their own vows.
“Castiel,” Dean said, his voice somehow managing to broadcast clearly to everyone present even as his tone went soft and intimate. He paused for a moment, frowning slightly, then corrected himself, “Cas. Things have been pretty fucked up ever since we met. Well, no, truthfully, things were fucked up on my end way before you came along. But, yeah, even though we didn’t meet under the most… ideal of circumstances, we still managed to pull through. We saved ourselves and each other and our family, and to me, that’s one of the most important things-that we’re all still here and together.” Dean took a deep breath before he continued. “But today isn’t about that. It doesn’t matter what our families think-although if they don’t approve of us, I might have to knock some heads together.” Bobby was surprised when Castiel let out a low chuckle upon hearing Dean’s threat. Bobby had never thought that Dean and Castiel would go well together-after all, no one would ever be good enough for his son-but maybe they were better suited than he had originally thought. “What does matter is that I love you and you love me and I want to make you mine in every way I can. I might not have wanted to admit it at the time, but I was hooked on you the moment I saw your eyes.” Dean reached out a hand and put it on Castiel’s cheek. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper when he spoke again. “When I found out that you had a sense of humor, well, I knew I wasn’t going to make it out of this the same as I went into it. You’ve left your mark on me Cas, and no, I don’t just mean my shoulder. You left a mark on my soul and my heart and my mind, and I hope…” Dean’s voice broke and tears filled his eyes. “I pray to the heavens you must have fallen from that I’ve left a mark on you too.”
Then, it was Castiel’s turn to say his vows, but Bobby didn’t need to hear them. The emotions were clear on the boy’s face and really, after hearing what Dean had to say, Bobby knew that he couldn’t live in denial any more. His son just may have found the one person who would love him more than Bobby could and if that was the case, then he had no other options.
Bobby listened as Castiel professed his love for Dean and silently gave them his blessing.
Chapter Eleven Part One | Masterpost | Chapter Twelve
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A/N: Okay, well, that was the first part of chapter eleven. Did I tell you guys that the informal title for this chapter was ‘The Second Coming of Castiel’? I know it didn’t happen in this part, but Dean and Cas’s sex scene was actually the first thing I wrote when I started this chapter.
The second half of this chapter-which includes the aforementioned sex scene-will most likely be just as long as this part. I just need to write it. That’s where you guys come in. I’m going to need a shit-ton of awesome reviews to motivate myself. The more reviews you give, the sooner you get the smut. What do you say, guys? Are you up for it? ;D
A/N 2: For anybody who doesn’t want to read the sex scene, you could reasonably stop reading here and not miss too much. The next part is basically just the reception and the sex scene. Although I wouldn’t consider the fic complete without it, my beta told me that I had to let you guys know that you could skip over all of my hard work if you really want to. Yes, I’m trying to guilt you guys into reading it. Is it working?