Title: A Tale of
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Season 4, speculation for Season 5
Warnings: language, angst, Zachariah (he deserves a warning all his own), and smut
Word Count: 3,159
Notes: This is a continuation of my earlier oneshot, "A Tale of Damnation and Soap". Partly continued because though I love angst, I also love a happy ending (pun intended).
Disclaimer: Still don't own Supernatural or its characters.
Summary: Zachariah shows up, and the encounter just might be enough to convince Dean that Castiel likes him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
All considered, things could be worse. Lucifer seemed to be biding his time in order to plan out his big Armageddon strategy. There were no more or less natural disasters than normal. No apocalyptic horsemen had reared their heads. The dead seemed (for the most part) to be fully at rest in their graves. Oh, and there hadn't yet been a second coming of Jesus Christ.
Since what Dean liked to think of as the Epic Shower of Awkward (With a capital "Awk"), Castiel had been much more sociable with the Winchester brothers. He had also been much cleaner, having mastered the fine art of showering and, after one or two mishaps, shaving. Castiel's "holy tax accountant" outfit had been laundered, but without Angelic Dry-cleaning Powers, it was looking rather ragged from the archangel fight. The Winchesters hadn't had the time or the money yet to visit a store, so in the meantime Cas was wearing a pair of Dean's jeans (only slightly loose around his slim hips) and a worn but well-loved Metallica t-shirt.
The clothes were the source of Dean's problems now. Seeing Cas naked in the shower was bad enough for his dirty mind, but seeing the former angel in his own clothes? It sent desire coursing through his body as his blood rushed south, which then caused him to shuffle awkwardly around motel rooms so that his brother and Cas wouldn't notice his raging hard-on.
Uncomfortable as that was, however, it didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that Castiel was talking to the Winchesters again. He still had moments when he felt sadness over the loss of heaven, but he wasn't keeping all that pain buried deep like before. He was starting to act more like his old self again…except, less of a dick. It was a welcome change, and Dean made sure that Cas felt at home among them. Indeed, things could be worse.
It was at that moment Zachariah chose to show up.
A split second later Dean had his semi-automatic leveled at the angel's face, Sam had pulled out Ruby's knife, and Castiel had shifted himself into a protective stance in front of Dean. For all of Cas' lost powers, at that moment Dean thought he looked every inch the protective, pissed-off angel. Well, except for the Metallica t-shirt.
Zachariah raised his hands in a mock surrender, a smirk on his face. "Please, would you mind pointing the pop gun somewhere where it can do actual damage?"
"Get the fuck out of here you son of a bitch, I want nothing to do with you," Dean shot back, not easing his grip on the gun.
Zachariah rolled his eyes, "Your 'Tough Guy' attitude, Dean? It's unbecoming. Especially on someone who's supposed to be our savior. But don't flatter yourself. I didn't come here to visit you. I'm not going to kill your demon-infected brother; how's the detox going, by the way? I'm here for Cas. I wanted to see how our newly fallen angel is doing now that his wings have been clipped."
Castiel's voice was dangerously low as he said, "Only Dean is allowed to call me Cas."
Dean felt a swell of pride at hearing Cas say that. He might no longer truly be an angel, but he would always be his angel. Sam's eyes flashed in anger at the comment Zachariah had directed at him, but he remained silent, knife in hand and alert.
Zachariah smirked again. Dean had a suspicion his face just went that way automatically whenever he relaxed it. "Charming, really. You know, I'm surprised in you. You used to be the most pious angel in your garrison. Though, considering the bad eggs your garrison turned out, that isn't saying much. Still, did you really think you would get away with your insurrection? Did you honestly believe that we were too busy to concern ourselves with the likes of you? We are heaven, nothing is beyond our notice."
"You fail to have noticed that you are no longer serving God's will," Castiel replied, and Dean thought that if Castiel still had his wings, they would be casting shadows on the walls by now.
Zachariah's signature smirk slipped, and for a moment Dean could see cold fury in his gaze. The moment passed, and the thin veneer of amused smugness had returned. "Allow better angels to be the judge of that, Cas. And watch yourself around me. You are not being allowed to live out of the goodness of our hearts. The only reason you are still alive is to ensure Dean's cooperation. If we kill you, as we should, for you are an abomination who should not be suffered to live, then we would lose the loyalty and support of one Dean Winchester."
Dean took the opportunity to enter the conversation again, "Damn right you would. And I'll tell you something else, you sanctimonious piece of crap, you threaten to harm Cas again, you won't be hearing much from me. I'll fix this apocalypse my way, on my terms."
"You won't get far without heavenly aid," Zachariah said, his tone scornful.
"Yeah, and aside from what Cas has done for me, how much has your 'heavenly aid' helped me? Huh? What have you guys actually done? I'm going to say it again, get the fuck out of here. You've had your fun, you poked fun at my angel and made us sweat a little, now leave."
Zachariah's façade of a smile widened, "Dean, Dean…such machismo. You can't do anything to me. And Castiel, you're a shadow of your former self. You can't fly, you can't heal, what can you do?"
Castiel smiled, almost a mirror of Zachariah's own. "I can do this."
He flipped a pocket knife out that he had kept hidden in his palm and quickly sliced a shallow cut on his arm. Stooping to the floor, Castiel flipped back the rug there to reveal an almost-completed blood sigil. He dredged blood on his fingers and quickly finished the seal and pressed his palm to it. Zachariah disappeared in a flash of light before he'd been able to get another word in edgewise.
Dean let out a breath the moment he was gone, "Wow, Cas…Have I mentioned lately how awesome you are?"
A shy smile lit Castiel's face. "You have not, Dean, but I appreciate it."
Sam decided to finally enter the conversation, having held his tongue the whole time Zachariah had been there. "Sooo…How are we going to explain that one to the motel staff?" he asked, pointing at the blood stained into the carpeting.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Castiel helped the Winchesters make new, angel-proofing hex bags to keep Zachariah and other angel dicks at bay. Using his Enochian knowledge, he was sure the hex bags would work better than anything Ruby had ever made them. Two days later, Dean and Cas were in a different motel room. They had dropped Sam off at Bobby's the previous day. Bobby had called with new information he found to help Sam get over his addiction. Sam had overruled Dean's insistence that they all stay at Bobby's, saying that what Bobby had in mind could take a while, and Dean should keep doing what they did best.
"Just swing by and pick me up at the end of the week, unless I call you sooner, alright?" Sam said, giving Dean a look that reminded him so much of the Sammy he used to know that he agreed.
"Yeah, fine. Just you wait, I'll be able to kill twice as much alone without having to watch your gigantic form every step of the way." Dean punched Sam in the arm. He got punched back in return.
"Hey," Sam said, as if he had just remembered something, "While you have the time, teach Castiel some stuff about hunting. Just so, you know, he can protect himself the normal way."
Dean thought he saw a glint of something in Sam's face. It was the same look he had seen in Sam's face right after Cas had sent Zachariah back to heaven, when Dean had complimented Cas. Did Sam know about how he felt? He wouldn't put it past his brother to be that perceptive, but Dean was unwilling to ask him if he knew. He had enough trouble himself acknowledging what he was feeling.
There he and Cas were, in their own motel room. Their own motel room. Dean tried not to think too hard about that as he explained to Castiel the different steps of dismantling and cleaning a gun. Later, he would probably drive them to somewhere secluded (somewhere secluded, his mind seemed to taunt him with that image) so that Cas could get in some target practice with the Glock. It was by no means his favorite of guns, but it was dependable and would work well for starting Cas out.
They were sitting across from each other on the separate beds, each carefully cleaning out guns from the Impala's arsenal, when Castiel broke the comfortable silence between them.
"Dean, may I ask you about two days ago?"
Dean looked up from the shotgun barrel, surprised, but not unpleasantly so. "Sure."
Castiel carefully took the shotgun from Dean and set it on his own bed, ensuring Dean was unoccupied as he gazed earnestly into his face.
"When Zachariah said that I was only being kept alive to ensure your cooperation, that…surprised me. I guess I hadn't thought myself important enough that your cooperation with heaven would depend upon my safety…"
"Of course it would," Dean interrupted, "Cas, you're my friend. And more than that, you're the only reason I was willing to listen to heaven in the first place. Once they kicked you out of the club, I didn't feel like being a member anymore. So, of course your safety matters to me."
"You singled me out as the only angel who had helped you, Dean. So many emotions are new to me, I can't fully describe how that statement made me feel. And…you called me 'your' angel, even though you know I am an angel no longer," Castiel paused, and even though he hadn't actually asked Dean anything, the enquiring tone could be heard in his voice. He was waiting for Dean's confirmation on something.
"Cas…Castiel…you raised me from hell. For the longest time I didn't believe myself worthy, and hell, there are still times when I don't believe it. But you never stopped believing in me. You've always had faith in me, and that's kept me going more than I'll ever be able to admit. Yes, you might not have your powers, or your wings, or your halo, but to me you will always be that infuriating angel I shot full of rock salt and then stabbed. And…" Dean faltered, struggling to find the words he wanted to say, "and I guess I got used to thinking of you as my angel, even though you said you weren't here to perch on my shoulder. You've always been here for me, and I-…I care about you."
It was the most Dean had ever spoken about his feelings before, and it left him feeling vulnerable and exposed. He wasn't quite sure how Castiel would react, but before he could wonder Castiel had closed the three feet separating them, and was tilting Dean's head to press a tentative kiss to his lips. Dean let out a small gasp of surprise, before returning the kiss, slowly but with an underlying passion, allowing Cas to learn and respond.
Cas let out a small moan into Dean's mouth, and something within Dean snapped, that he hadn't even realized was there. He deepened the kiss, teasing his tongue around Cas' lips before sliding it into his mouth. Cas moaned again, louder this time, and Dean fell back onto his bed, pulling the other man down with him.
Their bodies were pressed up against one another, and Dean could feel both of their erections grinding against the other's thighs.
"Fuck, Cas," he gasped out, rolling his hips upward as he spoke, "I've wanted this, wanted you, for far too long."
Castiel gazed into his eyes, and the intensity of his expression would have floored Dean, if he wasn't already horizontal.
"You had only to ask, Dean," he said, his low voice sending sparks of heat straight to Dean's groin.
"But, I-…I didn't think, you know, that you would-…"
Castiel cut Dean off with another kiss, before saying, "The problem, Dean, is that you thought too much. Did you believe yourself unworthy of my affection?"
Dean nodded, unable to trust his voice. Even without his angel powers, Castiel could still read his mind. The former angel gave Dean a knowing look, before leaning down to kiss him on the forehead.
"Dean," he breathed, and his voice had Dean instinctively arching back up into him, "You should not think that, especially when it is I who am lucky to know that you return my feelings. Please, let me care for you." He placed kisses on Dean's cheek, mouth, and jaw. "Let me love you."
Dean entwined his fingers in Cas' hair and pulled him in for a searing kiss. When they broke apart for air, he said, "Only if you let me do the same."
It was all that needed to be said, apparently, as they both started kissing each other again with renewed fervor, rutting their bodies together as they did so. Dean tugged at Cas' t-shirt, a Led Zeppelin one today, before pulling it off completely. He admired the pale expanse of chest before him.
"Do you know what it does to me," he panted, "watching you wear my clothes?"
Castiel gazed down at Dean with half-lidded eyes, pupils dilated wider than normal. "If it does this, then I think I will wear your clothes more often."
Dean growled low in his throat and shifted, flipping their bodies so that he was hovering predatorily over Cas. He licked a line over Cas' abdomen, before taking one of his nipples into his mouth and teasing it lightly with his tongue and teeth. Cas gasped and arched up from the bed, scrabbling madly at Dean's own shirt to pull it off. With both of their shirts abandoned, they relished in the feel of skin-to-skin contact.
Cas reached up to place his hand over the handprint on Dean's shoulder, and Dean was surprised to feel a jolt, similar to static electricity, pulsing at the connection. He gasped, more aroused than before, as Cas looked up at him as if surprised by his reaction.
"What is it?" Dean asked, breathing heavily.
"I can feel it," Castiel said, realization in his voice, "My grace resonates inside you when I touch my mark. I was able to find you after the archangel fight because of that grace you have. So long as you have it, I cannot truly fall. I may be diminished, and I may have lost my wings, but at heart I am still an angel."
"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Dean said, leaning down to lay another kiss on Castiel's face, "Does this mean you can get any of your mojo back?"
"I can always find you, and that to me is more important than anything else. Who knows? I may be able to re-learn other abilities. I will have to try later."
Dean silenced Cas with more kisses before he could start theorizing any more. His erection had become uncomfortably tight in his jeans, and he suspected Castiel was feeling the same way. Though he was sure they could easily continue grinding against one another until they both came in their pants, Dean wanted to prolong this. He unbuttoned Cas' jeans and dragged the zipper down, enjoying the sound it made. Sliding further down the bed, he tugged at Cas' jeans and grey boxer briefs until his erection was free. Dean got off the bed a moment to pull them off completely, removing Castiel's socks and shoes in the process.
Dean took a moment to admire the naked body on the bed, before pulling off the remainder of his own clothes. He slid back onto the bed, dragging his body over every inch of Cas'. Cas moaned and arched into Dean, grabbing him forcefully about the neck and pulling him into a demanding kiss.
"Dean," he groaned out after their lips were free again, adding about three extra syllables to his name, "Need you…need you inside me."
And fuck, that was so hot it almost had Dean coming then and there. He fumbled beside the bed for his bag, reaching into one of the pockets to pull out lube. He spread liberal amounts onto his fingers, before repositioning himself between Cas' spread legs. Gently, he began pushing one finger inside him.
Cas gasped in pain at the intrusion, which quickly turned into a moan as Dean took his cock in his mouth, working it with his lips and tongue as he continued pushing in the finger. Cas writhed on the bed, trying to roll his hips, but Dean pinned him with his free hand. He continued his ministrations on Castiel's cock, laving the sensitive head with his tongue as he pushed a second finger inside.
Castiel cried out in pleasure, and Dean sincerely hoped the room next to theirs was empty. He scissored the fingers inside of Cas while bobbing his head along Cas' shaft, before taking him fully into his mouth.
"Dean," Cas groaned out again, and there was a hint of a warning in his tone.
Dean released Cas from his mouth with a slight slurping noise, removing his fingers at the same time. Cas made a small whimpering sound from the loss. Dean quickly slicked up his own cock with the remainder of the lube, before pressing into Cas until he was fully buried inside him. Cas arched and moaned as Dean began thrusting, gently at first, but then with increasing speed. Cas reached up the grip the handprint again, and Dean shuddered at the feel energy coursing through it. He wasn't going to last much longer. Gripping Cas' cock between them, he began pumping it in time with his thrusts, seeking completion.
Cas came first, spilling over Dean's hand and his own chest. Dean's rhythm faltered and he was coming moments later, shuddering and struggling to keep from falling on Cas from the force of his orgasm. Spent, he pulled out, and collapsed a moment later on the bed next to Cas. He rolled to his side and buried his face into his angel's neck. His angel.
"Have I mentioned lately how awesome you are?"
Cas let out a soft laugh. "You have, Dean, but I never tire of hearing it."