REMINDER TO THE READER THAT THE FANFICTION YOU READ BELOW CONTAINS NO VISIBLE STORYLINE TO THE SUPERNATURAL SEASONS. I AM WRITING THIS BASED ON A COMPLETELY NEW TIMELINE, FOR ADDED EFFECT. ALSO NOTE THIS FIC CONTAINS SERIOUSLY AWESOME SEX, LOADS OF SUBTEXT SEXY'S AND SWEARING.
THAT IS ALL.
"Dean?" Castiel glanced over to him, trying not to blush. His face remained the cool mask of indifference he so desperately wore every day. Dean looked up from the book he was studying, jumping in fright.
"Dammit Cas! I told you not to do that!" Dean clutched at his chest melodramatically. Sam chuckled quietly at his laptop. "Sorry man. What is it?" Castiel smiled, not physically, but somewhere deep within his vessel.
"I have a lead."
Castiel sat in the back of the Impala, growing impatient. Sam and Dean were inside the warehouse, slaying demons, torturing information out of one. He thought back to the years he spent as Dean's angel, before Dean had even met him.
Castiel had watched as his mother had died, and sent him the strength to move past it. He had watched as Dean's father, John, had slowly drifted out of his life. Again, Castiel had sent him the smarts and strength to get past it.
Dean left the warehouse first, wiping his face on his sleeve. 'Looks like he's going to need a shower when we get back…' Castiel snapped himself out of that thought before he let it get any further. "Cas, man. The demons think we're breaking some seals or shit."
Castiel blanched, visibly and otherwise. The seals? That was impossible. Not the seals… "Dean, did they elaborate on the seals at all?" Dean searched Castiel's face, seeing the fear and worry.
"No man, he bailed before we could get any more info. Sam's just cleaning up. Wanna explain this?" Castiel thought about it. It was prophecy, he couldn't just tell Dean. He could lead…
"Dean, have you ever read the last book of the bible?" Dean's face confused Castiel for a moment. He looked within his vessel's memories, and determined this face simply meant 'are you kidding me?' "The last book tells of the Apocalypse. Sam."
"Cas, did we start the Apocalypse?" Castiel nodded slowly. He couldn't say anything, but he couldn't lie either. If they guessed, it wasn't his fault. Castiel paused within himself, vaguely listening to Sam and Dean arguing about the Bible.
Lately, it seemed as if his vessel was 'rubbing off' on him, as Dean would say. He was beginning to get human mannerisms. He would frequently look into his vessel to understand Dean's emotions, Dean's words. But his vessel was a very different man, so he understood none of Dean's reference's sometimes. What would you do with an eye from a tiger anyway?
"Cas, you coming back to the motel?" Castiel looked up, seeing Dean's hopeful face, Sam's curious one.
"Yes. There is much we need to discuss."
Sam was snoring lightly at his laptop, his face plastered to the book he was referencing. Dean had wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, and begun drinking. Castiel just saw Dean using the strength he had given all those years ago, and something warm and unexpected had bloomed in his stomach. "Dean, why do you drink?" He thought mindless talking may get his mind off the feeling.
"I drink because….because…. Why do I gotta have a reason? I drink because I can. What about you, do you drink?" Castiel had never tasted alcohol before. He hadn't done much of anything. No sex, or swearing, no kisses or alcohol. Nothing.
"I am an angel, Dean. We do not partake in that sort of thing." Dean swayed a little on the bed, Castiel was perched next to him.
"Wait, wait,' he slurred at Castiel, 'wait. So, you're a virgin? No smoking, or alcohol or…sex?" Castiel looked at Dean, perplexed that he didn't understand.
"No Dean. As an angel, I haven't even kissed a person." He almost stumbled on that last word. Why did he almost say a man? He shook himself off mentally, and made a note to ask someone about this feeling.
"That…not even a kiss? Dude, you should…you should kiss me…" Castiel looked at Dean, slightly dumbfounded. Kiss Dean? He could… No.
"Dean, you're drunk." Dean mumbled something unintelligible. Castiel leaned over, took the glass from Dean's hands, and lay him down on the bed. Dean kept mumbling as Castiel removed his shoes and socks. He removed Dean's belt, unable to determine why that made him want to blush, and placed a blanket over him.
Dean mumbled something, more intelligible than the rest, and for a moment, Castiel almost thought he heard Dean say "I love you." But that was impossible, and Castiel warped away, but not before those hazel eyes burned into his.
Castiel sat alone in a park for most of the day. He had mulled things over in his mind, but he didn't quite know how to deal with it. He had talked to Gabriel about it, and he had just laughed at Castiel and called him a pussy. He had yet to figure out his relationship with a cat to be justified being called one.
Gabriel, sensing his confusion, had explained that what Castiel was feeling was love. In its purest form. "I don't understand. Isn't earthly love different from ours?"
"Yes. But you are feeling the love that only an angel can have. You love him as though he was your God. In a way, he is. He has always been your master. You say he said he loved you. Well, despite being in a drunken haze, he meant it. Remembering he said it, and having the guts to admit it sober is another thing altogether, I'm afraid."
At this present moment Castiel was mulling over this. It is true he loves Dean, almost more than he loves his own life. But did he love him more than God? He didn't know what to think. Or feel, or even how to act. Gabriel had said the feeling in his gut was earthly love. The feeling in his head was angelic love. He knew in his head that Dean was everything Castiel wanted. He knew in his gut that he needed Dean, probably more than Dean needed him.
"Cas. I need you"
Dean's back was turned. He stood alone in the motel room. Dean seemed to sense his presence, and he turned slowly. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes. "Cas, buddy. You really gotta stop sneaking up on me."
"I don't try. What is the problem Dean? Is there something wrong?" Dean looked to the laptop left unattended on the table. The books were closed up, and Sam had left a note.
"He's going to the library to get more books. There's nothing wrong. I just wanted to talk to you. About last night." Castiel almost blushed. Almost.
"Yes Dean? Do you not remember it?" Dean blushed, and Castiel's body reacted in a way he wasn't expecting. A small smile played across his lips. Why am I smiling? He wiped the smile as quickly as it came, but he couldn't help but wonder if Dean had seen.
"No, I remember. That's what I want to talk about. How do angels feel about…gays?" Castiel pondered a moment. "I mean, angels, or your opinion, not God's."
"God does not mind gays. Neither do angels, as a general rule. I, myself, do not have an issue with it." Dean blushed again, but this time Castiel was expecting the smile. He did not expect, however, the faint yearning in his loins. Castiel blinked again.
"Good! Good. That's good. Cas?"
"Yes Dean?"
"How come the bible says people should be anti-gay?" Castiel rolled his eyes, something he had learned from Dean when something was obvious.
"The people that God tried to talk to mixed up the message." Dean seemed relieved with that answer. They talked for a while, and Dean somehow mentioned that Sam wasn't going to be back tonight. Then, Dean went quiet after Castiel had mentioned disliking Dean's ability to get himself into trouble.
"Do you like me?" Castiel looked at Dean. He seemed smaller, somehow. Like he had stripped a layer from himself. He was vulnerable. And open.
"Yes, I like you. You are a good friend." Dean seemed…crestfallen, the vessel remembered. Gabriel had told him to tell Dean how he felt. He had decided. "You are a good master to me, and I love you more than I love God."
"What?" Dean looked confused for a moment. Then happy. Then his face went back to normal. "So, you love me? Like how? Like a friend, a master, how?" Castiel thought back to Gabriel's advice. "Tell him how you feel. Not how your head thinks, but how your gut thinks."
"Like a friend. And a master. And a leader. And a brother. All that is how my head feels. My gut…my gut feels like I love you like you love women. I want you, all the time. My stomach feels warm and fluttery. I barely even notice people when you're around. My head spins and I find myself having thoughts I've never had before-."
"Thoughts about what?" Dean cut Castiel off. He thought about all the things he had tried to stop himself from thinking. Suddenly, they were pouring out of his mouth.
"The way your lips curl when you laugh, the way your eyes sparkle when you're happy, your muscles, your smile, your eyes. The way you always put everyone else first, even when you shouldn't. The way you… What? Did I say something wrong?" Dean was upset, that was plain to see. But… his eyes were watering. "Dean?"
Dean wiped at his eyes, and sat heavily on the bed. Castiel stood, Dean would say awkwardly, and looked on. "Cas… You think all that?"
"Yes Dean. Did I make you cry? I'm sorry if I upset you. If I am unappealing…" Dean stood, crossed the room, and crashed his lips into Castiel's. Any thought that was forming shattered into pieces. The feeling of Dean's lips on his was mesmerising. He pulled away, much to Castiel's disappointment.
"That was your first kiss." And his lips were back, moving gently against his own. Dean's tongue gently traced his lips. Castiel had to look to his vessel's memories to see that was Dean asking to be let in.
Castiel's mouth opened up, and the kiss deepened.
The taste of Dean was undeniably delicious. A mixture of Scotch Whiskey and bubble gum. Sweet and bitter. The feeling of Dean's tongue swirling with his was magical. Every movement sent a warm pulse to his loins. There was a pressure in his trousers. Then, something hard pressed against him. Castiel pulled away and looked down, confused. Dean looked… sheepish, his vessel provided.
"Dean? Dean, I don't understand." Dean chuckled, and Castiel noticed the pressure increasing in his trousers. He looked down to see he had the same problem as Dean. "Dean, did I break it?" He turned red, then finally burst. Dean burst into laughter. Pure, magical laughter. Castiel was still confused, and a little worried. "C-cas…no. No man. You didn't break it. Shall I teach you about it?"
"Yes. I would like to know everything."
"Dean. Dean. I think this bed is possessed."
"It's supposed to do that."
"Oh. Well, I like it." The bed whirred underneath Castiel. It made him feel funny, as though his whole body was alive with bees. Dean had stripped Castiel down to his trousers, and was beginning to explain what it was.
"Well… first, it's not broken."
"I understand that now. Can a penis be broken?" Dean snorted. He was trying not to laugh.
"No, it can't. So, you know what we do with it?" Castiel nodded. "Well, this is how we start. It won't do much otherwise. Are you wearing any underpants?"
"No." Dean visibly froze. A light blush crawled up his cheeks. "They're uncomfortable."
"That's fine. I'm going to show you what to do now." Castiel nodded again, and watched intently as Dean undid his pants. He pulled lightly, and Castiel watched as his penis came into view. It stood erect, on its own. Castiel puzzled over it, and determined that more blood was in it, which is why he felt a little light-headed. Dean grabbed it gently, and Castiel gasped. It was so sensitive. A small wave of pleasure emanated throughout his body.
He felt his wings shudder. He had an urge to loose them, all of a sudden. But the thought left his head as Dean began to stroke him. Up and down his hand went, and Castiel moaned in time. He didn't know why he was moaning, only that it helped release some of the pleasure. His vessel had no input, it was purely instinctual.
Dean gasped. "Cas… woah." Castiel blushed. His wings had shown up, and he had no control of it. "Cas, they're beautiful…" Castiel tucked his golden-tinged wings up to his back. They were, to a human, a soft, white plumage, with a slightly pearlescent golden tinge to them. Dean's spare hand reached out, but Castiel flinched. Dean retreated. "I'm sorry Dean. It was a habit. You have to be gentle, but you can touch." Castiel sat up higher, so Dean could reach.
Castiel placed his hands on Dean's shoulders. Dean looked at him questioningly, but said nothing. Then, slowly, gently, he touched Castiel's wings. A loud moan of pleasure escaped Castiel's lips. Dean stopped, smirked, and slowly caressed the plumage. Castiel moaned, and groaned, and gripped the bed sheets. He let out a gasp. "Dean…"
"Cas, I want you. Can I show you later?" Castiel merely nodded. Dean's hand left his wings, and Castiel involuntarily whimpered. Dean stroked Castiel's penis again, soft, hard, fast, slow. Castiel groaned in pleasure, and watched carefully as Dean procured a small bottle from his pocket. His hand left him, but only for a moment. When it came back, it was slippery, and wet. Dean stroked him, gently grazing the tip. Then, suddenly, Dean was gone again. He was taking his pants off. His penis bounced out of his pants, and a warm feeling settled in Castiel's navel. Dean was huge.
Now though, Dean was fiddling with the bottle, with his hands between his legs. Then he was straddling Castiel. "Now Cas. You have to promise me. You will wait till I come." Castiel wasn't exactly sure what he meant. But before he could think anymore, Dean lowered himself onto Castiel, and let him inside.
That warm feeling almost engulfed him.
Dean was so tight and warm and good. A low moan escaped his lips and Dean's too. His hands were gripping Castiel's shoulders, but that only seemed to heighten the pleasure. Slowly, at first, Dean began to move up and down on Castiel. His head was thrown back, and he kept angling his hips.
Then, his entire demeanour changed. Suddenly, he was looking into Castiel's eyes. His expression was wild, his grip was tight. His breath was ragged and quick, and in the instant all of this happened, a loud moan escaped his lips.
"C-cassss…."
Dean began moving again, quickly this time. His thrusts were hard, and the pleasure emanating from his penis was almost more than he could take. Suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore.
"D-deeeaaann… I f-feel warmmm. This feels s-so goooodd…" Dean gripped Castiel tighter.
"Don't you dare come yet. You hold onto that as long as you can." Dean began to gasp, thrusting faster and faster. Castiel felt that warm feeling start to move along his penis.
"Deeeaaaaannnn! Oh fuck DEAN!" He couldn't take it. He couldn't think. There was just Dean, and this pleasure.
"Caaaaaaaaaasssss!FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!"
All of a sudden, an explosion of pleasure burst from his penis. Castiel screamed, arching and writhing and gripping the bed sheets tight. Dean, almost reacting, screamed too. His hands clawed into Castiel's shoulders, his teeth gritted and, somehow, he whispered Castiel's name, over and over.
Cas, cas, cas, oh fuck…cas…cas…cas…..cassss…..
A warm wetness spurt from Dean onto Castiel's chest and stomach. Dean sighed then, and collapsed onto his chest. Castiel lay there, panting.
"Cas?"
"Mmmm?"
"Wanna have a shower?" Castiel looked to Dean's face, and saw a grin he recognized well.
"Yes please."