A Dean/Castiel fic.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Supernatural.
A/N: Okay, I could NOT resist ... that last episode was just teeming with Dean/Cas moments, it was amazing. I anticipate MANY fics to be written from that episode alone.
This fic takes place at the end of the episode, one of the ways that I see Cas coming back.
Obviously, if you haven't watched the episode, then reading this will spoil it for you, so beware.
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
Dean nursed the beer in his hand, sitting on the hood of his car outside Bobby's junkyard. He tried to savour the victory of finally killing Zachariah, once and for all, but he couldn't forgive himself for letting something happen to Adam. He didn't know where his youngest brother was, nor did he know where 'his' angel had disappeared to. Watching him carve that symbol into himself hadn't been easy, and it had stung when Cas had told him he didn't have the faith in him that Sam did. He'd deserved it, but it had still hurt.
"Hello Dean," a gruff voice from behind him spoke, accompanied by the sound of feet shuffling through gravel.
One down, one left to find, Dean thought, wonderfing if the angel would yell at him, attack him, or both. "You made it out alright?" Dean asked, not turning around.
Castiel moved to stand in front of him, blocking Dean's line of sight.
Dean took in the image before him, the darkness of the night sky not taking away from the fact that Castiel's clothes were still wide open, revealing the blood smeared across his otherwise smooth chest. "So, you gonna take another swing at me?" Dean wondered, taking another drink. "I mean, it's not like I wouldn't deserve it; we both know that."
Castiel shook his head, moving forwards, closer to Dean. "No. I was wrong. I lost faith ... it seems that's what I do best."
Dean looked up at the angel briefly, but the sight of his angel's marred form was too much for him, and he had to look away. "You'll be fine," Dean commented, pushing around a few rocks with the toe of his shoe.
Castiel sighed, taking another small step forwards. "I feel the need to apologize to you, Dean."
Dean chuckled. "It's fine."
"No, it's not," Castiel replied. "I doubted you when you needed the most support. I failed you."
Dean shook his head, pushing off from the hood of the truck, not realizing how close that would place him to the disheveled angel. "No, I'm the one who failed you ... you said it yourself. You gave everything up for me, and I let you down."
Castiel shook his head down, placing his hands on his hips while he tried to think of something to get through to Dean.
Dean couldn't stand looking at Castiel's body with his shirts wide open any longer, so he moved away from him to the back of the opening, opening the truck and grabbing a rag. He soaked it with some holy water he had stashed in there and moved back over to Castiel. "You should get cleaned up," he told him, holding the rag out to him.
Castiel looked at it oddly. "My appearance is of little consequence at the moment," he told Dean, not accepting the rag.
"No," Dean responded, "but it's distracting."
Castiel cocked his head to the side. "Why?"
Dean blinked at the angel across from him. "It just is."
Castiel didn't make a move to take the cloth, and Dean couldn't stand it any longer, so he groaned before stepping forwards, pulling one side of Castiel's clothes to the side and swiping at the blood on his chest. It was beyond awkward. Castiel made it all the worse by simply standing there quietly, staring at Dean's minstrations.
After what felt like ages Dean had Castiel completely cleaned of blood, stepping back with a cough to try to hide the way it had affected him. "You can fix your clothes now," Dean told him in a shaky voice.
Castiel looked steadily at the hunter, shaking his head slowly.
Dean sighed. You're killing me, Cas. "Why not?" he asked.
Castiel answered simply, "Because you seem to be enjoying yourself thus far. I would hate to take away from that."
Dean blinked. He knows what this is doing to me? "What?"
Castiel stepped forward, making Dean retreat until his back hit his car. "You should be allowed certain liberties ... after what I've done to you, how I treated you ... consider it my apology."
Dean shook his head, telling his body to calm down and not accept Castiel's offer. "You don't mean that, Cas. Besides, I'm not holding a grudge. No apology needed," Dean assured him.
Castiel ignored his statement, reaching his hands up and sliding off his trench coat, suit jacket and shirt in one shrug, setting them on the hood of the car and standing half-naked in front of Dean. "Do you deny that you are attracted to me?" Castiel asked Dean, who was working very hard to not hyper-ventilate.
Dean wanted to answer - wanted to deny it - but his suddenly dry mouth wouldn't obey his brain's simple commands.
Castiel nodded knowingly, closing the space between them until his hands were on either side of Dean's body, his hips just barely brushing against Dean's, causing a friction that had him clenching his jaw to contain his hiss.
"Let me make up for my mistakes," Castiel whispered in a husky voice that Dean had never heard before, and he couldn't help himself, he couldn't stop himself from launching himself forward the inch that separated their two mouths and capturing Castiel's mouth, putting all of his anger, defeat, pain and desire into the kiss, taking control quickly and spinning Cas so that he was the one pressed against the cool metal.
Dean moved them around the car to the trunk, searching wildly with one hand for the blanket he knew was in there somewhere, locating it with a triumphant moan, closing the trunk with a load snap and moving around to the other side of the car, all the while his lips remaining locked to Cas's. He spread the blanket on the ground well enough before dragging the angel down onto it, having moved to the other side of the car in case Sam or Bobby popped their heads out and saw the two of them.
As he tore off his own clothes and removed Castiel's pants he took a moment to admire the angel's form, seeing not the man - the vessel - he was inhabiting, but the angel that he had grown to love and depend on so much. It tore at him to think that he'd done so much to make the angel lose faith in him.
Hours later, when they were spent and Castiel had zapped them to a nearby motel, Dean glanced over at the angel sharing his bed and sighed. "I'm sorry too," he told him.
The angel didn't answer with words, he simply leaned forward and took his own liberties with the hunter he'd claimed as his own with a hand-shaped brand.
As I said before, I couldn't resist after that last episode, and I wanted my 100th story to be a Dean/Cas fic.
I hope you guys liked it!
Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.
Until next time ...!