SPN fic: Pressing Against My Heart (Dean/Cas NC17 AU life-art 'verse)

[the_diggler]

Title: Pressing Against My Heart {from the life-art 'verse}
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Genre: AU, established relationship, fluff, smut
Warnings: bottom!Dean, age difference, voyeurism, video cameras, homemade porn ;)
Word Count: 1415
Summary: Dean's not ready to tell Cas how he feels. But he's not ready for Cas to go away to Paris for a few months either. So Dean leaves a surprise on Castiel's phone instead. (aka The one where Dean is a creeper who takes pictures, and Cas is a creeper who watches people sleep, but it's okay because they're in love...)
Author's Notes: Technically this is a sequel to Could I But Hold Thee. But I actually wrote this fic first, so I guess it's not entirely necessary to read the other one. It wasn't until after I wrote this that I thought I should probably write the story of how they got together as well, and then I got carried away with it, which is why that one's so much longer than this one :s Anyway, this one's from Dean's POV so the style's a little different too - while it's mostly meant to be fluffy there's one extremely porny paragraph... did I mention it's Dean's POV?
Disclaimer: Supernatural ain't mine!



~

Ah! upon thy bosom
Lay I, pining,
And then thy flowers, thy grass,
Were pressing against my heart.
Thou coolest the burning
Thirst of my bosom,
Beauteous morning breeze!
--from Ganymede by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

~

Dean freaks out a little when Cas tells him he’s going to Paris for the summer. The trip was planned and booked long before he and Cas got together, and Cas even invites him to come along, but Dean knows he’d never make it through the flight. So instead of owning up to his fear of planes and heights and falling, he tells Cas he can’t afford it, that they’re short staffed at the café to begin with, that he can’t leave Sam on his own – even though Bobby or Ellen would be glad to have his little brother visit for a while.

But it’s a whole summer. In Paris. Around museums, and art, and other artists, and a whole world of beautiful things that Dean probably can’t even begin to compete with. And when it starts to sink in, he starts to freak out a lot.

So he does the only thing he can think of, and steals Cas’ phone.

He only does it when it’s safe though, only when he knows Cas doesn’t need it. Like when Cas falls asleep, or goes to the bathroom, or is distracted with something like grading or sketching. So he only steals it for short amounts of time. It’s more like borrowing really. Just for long enough to take pictures of himself on it.

Doesn’t matter where, or what he’s doing – whether he’s smiling, sticking his tongue out, eating with a mouth full of food, doing the Blue Steel, snuggling into Cas’ sleeping form in bed – just anything. Anything to remind Cas what he looks like. Anything to remind Cas what’s waiting for him when he comes home.

He’s good at it. After all, he has all that practice from when he used to sneak around, covertly taking pictures of Cas at the café – angling his phone discreetly between coffee mugs and cookie jars, hiding it under dishtowels as he walked by to wipe a table or something, not to mention the times he actually brought in his beat up old SLR and hid it under the counter, waiting for opportune moments. He is the king of stealth photography.

Until Cas finally catches him, that is. And having to explain what he’s doing is almost as embarrassing as the first time Cas found all those secret pictures of himself on Dean’s phone. But that had turned out alright in the end, and lucky for Dean, so does this.

At first, Cas merely laughs at him for being so adorable, which makes him bristle a little, because hey, he has his masculine pride to think of. But then Cas kisses the hell out of him, and says, “As if I could forget you. As if I haven’t sketched your face a million times from memory alone. As if I couldn’t sculpt an exact replica of your body blindfolded, with only my sense of touch to recreate you.”

And Dean doesn’t know what to say to that.

Well, he knows exactly what he wants to say to that. At this point it’s a litany running over and over again in his head. But he’s not ready to own up to that either. So instead he says, “How about some videos then? Something to keep you warm on those cold Paris nights? We can’t even have phone sex y’know, the time difference is too big.”

And maybe he pouts a little too pretty when he says that, bats his eyelashes not-so-innocently, because the only warning he gets is a feral glint in Cas’ eye before he’s being tackled and hauled to bed.

They could probably make a fortune off the videos they shoot – Dean jacking himself off, Cas murmuring words of encouragement as he films and jacks off to it, then shoots all over Dean’s come-covered and sated body… Dean sucking Cas off until Cas comes all over his face, and then Dean coming with Cas’ fingers inside him… Dean riding Cas, leaning back and giving Cas and the camera a perfect view of his ass as he impales himself on Cas’ cock… One close-up of Cas’ dick thrusting into Dean from behind… And that one comes in handy pretty quick, because then they watch it while they’re still fucking, and Cas starts thrusting into him at the same time as on the video, and it blows Dean’s mind so hard that when he comes he nearly cracks the screen of Cas’ phone, he’s gripping it so tight.

All too soon Cas’ memory bank is nearly full, and it’s the night before his flight. And still, Dean lies awake, worrying that it might not be enough.

So, he steals Cas’ phone one last time.

He doesn’t go far though. He just props himself up on a pillow, and leans over, filming Cas sleeping peacefully beside him.

“Hey Cas,” he whispers, pausing to clear his throat against his nerves, “I’ve got something I need to tell you, and I know I’m a coward for doing it this way, but it’s the only way I can say this to your face,” he pauses again, taking a deep breath. “I think I’m in love with you. And I think you’re in love with me too, but I don’t know. Maybe it’s just an artist thing, the way you look at me sometimes…” Dean swallows hard. “Whatever. If you don’t feel the same way, and I’m wrong, just don’t say anything okay? I don’t want things to change. Just… let me feel what I do, that’s all I need. You’re all I need. With me. Fuck, just hurry home okay?” Dean adds before ending the recording. Along with his inane babbling.

He considers deleting it and re-recording the whole thing, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to get through it again. And he kind of knows that once he deletes it, he won’t even try. But he worries about it. All night. Until the worry finally tires him to sleep.

But when he wakes up the next morning, he finds Cas watching him the way he always does, with that soft smile at the corner of his lips, Cas’ fingers threaded with his own on the pillow, and Dean has a feeling that it’ll be okay.

The feeling lasts all of a couple of days, before Dean is miserable and missing Cas something fierce. He starts listening to old phone messages just to hear Cas’ voice, starts reading through old texts, flipping through the folders and folders of pictures he’s taken… but when he gets to his videos, Dean is shocked to find a new one has been added without him knowing.

It’s dated the morning of Cas’ flight, the morning after he recorded his confession on Cas’ phone, and when Dean plays it he’s stunned to see his own sleeping face in the dim light of dawn. He hears Castiel sigh, then sees Cas’ slender fingers reach up into the frame, lightly tracing along his sleeping brow, down his nose, and across his cheek as Cas’ thumb brushes over his lips. It’s then that he’d stirred a little, mumbling Cas’ name in his sleep, and Dean cries out in horror as he watches. He didn’t even know he talked in his sleep!

Cas quickly pulls his hand away with a sharp, nervous inhale of breath. But then Dean sees himself frown in his sleep, his hand twitching towards Cas’ side of the bed, and Cas exhales, covering sleeping-Dean’s hand with his own.

Watching-Dean however, begins to panic. He starts to wonder what the hell else he’s done in his sleep, just how much he’s revealed already. His groan of mortification is cut short though, when Cas begins to speak.

“Dean,” he whispers, “I love you, so much.”

Dean’s heart stops. But sleeping-Dean merely hums contentedly, threading their fingers together tight.

“Cas… Love you…” sleeping-Dean murmurs, and watching-Dean nearly has another heart-attack. But Castiel merely sighs again, a sound filled with content, amusement, and little bit of exasperation. A sound that says this has happened many times before.

“Dean,” Castiel whispers, even softer than before, his thumb brushing over Dean’s hand. “I miss you already,” Cas says, and then the video ends.

The smile on Dean’s face realizes what just happened long before Dean’s brain does.

He wonders how long it will take for Cas to find Dean’s secret video.

Screw that. He may not be able to talk to Cas right now, but he can sure as hell send him a video message.

~ fin

I don't know why it took me so long to crosspost this from tumblr. Guess I thought I might expand the porny bits or something, but I don't want to mess with it too much anymore. However, if anyone's still interested in this verse, I'm considering writing a proper sequel about Dean and Cas' first date, cameras and all ;)