Title: Under Any Circumstances (censored version)
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Castiel, Dean Winchester
Prompt: "I don't sweat under any circumstances." – Castiel (Season 12, Episode 2)
Word Count: 2,200 1239
Rating: M (Possible strong but non-explicit adult themes, references to violence, and strong coarse language.)
Genre: Trash Romance
Summary: Castiel had never given much thought to that particular bodily function. Actually, he hadn't given any thought to any bodily function… Until the Righteous Man was risen from perdition.
Or, the one where Castiel becomes preoccupied with sweat.
Author's Note: 961 words have been edited out of this version to make it as suitable as possible for this site while still retaining a fraction of the intent. For the full smut-filled version, please visit my AO3 page – link available on my profile!
Disclaimer: I own nothing …
Castiel had never given much thought to that particular bodily function. Actually, he hadn't given any thought to any bodily function. His grace automatically took control of all of them. It only made sense to regulate all of his vessel's proper functions and he did so with every vessel he'd ever chose to take. They were unnecessary and tedious distractions from his mission, so they never sparked his curiosity.
Until the Righteous Man was risen from perdition.
He'd had important matters to see to once he'd managed to finally piece Dean Winchester's broken soul back together, rebuild the torn and degraded cellular structure of his body down to the last quark (1), and make it possible to seamlessly reunite the two without the soul rejecting to body. He'd left it up to Uriel to actually merge the two and, when he was finally free to check on the elder Winchester, the man was wandering along a dirt road under the glaring sun.
Castiel found himself suddenly curious.
Dean's heated skin was glistening in the heat.
He knew that humans we prone to sweating. It was a quirk his father had built into the creatures that Castiel had found odd when he'd first learned of it. His first vessel, a warrior on a battlefield in what would one day become Europe, had been sweating when he'd inhabited him. Castiel didn't like it. It was sticky and moist and uncomfortable and gave off a decidedly unpleasant aroma.
Dean was… different.
Castiel watched as the human raised an arm to wipe the built up sweat from his brow. Droplets tracked tiny reflective rivers down reddened skin. Dirt stuck to him much more readily than normal and he was getting close to collapsing. The shine off this human's skin reminded him of the glistening of sunlight off a body of water. The image reminded him of another quirk shared by many of the creatures inhabiting this planet: they required water. Just as Dean was about to pass a turn on the road, Castiel reached out with his grace and nudged the elder Winchester down the turn that would lead him to a place where humans exchanged currency for goods. It would be closed but, judging from what he was able to glean from his time with Dean's soul, this human was resourceful.
He was trying not to show it but he was nervous. Scared even. Castiel could see it when he arrived at Stull Cemetery with Bobby Singer in tow. There was a very light sheen of sweat coating Dean's skin in an even layer. It didn't shine like how it did on that dirt road two years before, but there was enough of a shine that Castiel was momentarily distracted by it. It always intrigued him, the different situations in which this human's body would produce the substance. And the manner in which it did.
The nanosecond he was distracted felt like hours to the celestial being. Castiel blinked and internally shook himself. He set fire to the end of a rag that was stuffed into a glass bottle filled with holy oil. He had a job to do.
If there ever was a moment when Castiel wondered whether his grace would not be enough to control the function of his vessel's sweat glands, the moment his older brother Lucifer's attention was focused solely on him would inevitably be it.
Castiel flinched when hard blows landed on his ribcage… his cheekbone… his jaw… with demonic strength. He normally wouldn't feel it. At least not enough for it to actually hurt. Humans could never garner enough strength to actually cause pain. But the Mark on Dean's arm, even after they'd managed to drag his humanity back out from the depths it was locked in, was fuelling his adrenaline with pure rage. And Castiel's weakened grace is nowhere near back to full power.
Castiel lay flat on his back, blood pooling in his throat, Dean kneeling over him. His right hand grasping Dean's left wrist, a final plea. For mercy. For reason. For Dean to come back from this dark and bloody path he's on. Come back to humanity. Come back to him.
Dean's skin is clammy. The blood surrounding his face accentuating his pallor. Castiel's heart ached at the sight of the effects the damned Mark had on not only the Righteous Man's body, but also the brightness of his soul.
He barely heard Dean's threat before he stalked out. The constricting muscles in his chest was more than just the pain his body was feeling as he stared at the Angel Blade stuck in a book approximately a foot away from his head. It wasn't just an ache he felt.
Cas brushed sloppy, noisy kisses to the Dean's left shoulder, neck, behind his ear. His nose sweeping lightly through the man's dampened hair, breathing in the scent radiating off the man in his exertion, intoxicated by it, as Dean pulled back from where his face had been nestled into the bend of Castiel's neck and shoulder. Hand sliding down the human's sweaty back.
The hunter trailed his own sloppy kisses down along Cas' shoulder, clavicle, left pectoral muscle… Dean moved back slightly, leaning over Cas.
Castiel reached one hand up the expanse of Dean's torso. Slowly, almost reverently, running his hand along the elder Winchester's skin, mesmerized by the glistening perspiration.
They locked gazes. Green eyes conveying more emotion than could ever be spoken in words, in any language, in any tone. Blue eyes expressing more than ever had been thought possible in his entire existence. A grin tugged at Dean's lips. The kind of lips that were written about in stories…
Cas watched as sweat beaded along his lover's brow and temples. He gasped when a droplet managed to trickle down the weather worn skin of Dean's face… He admired the way the human's glistening skin almost seemed to glow like the metal on the edge of an Angel Blade.
Dean leaned forward and buried his face into Castiel's neck… pressed his lips to the skin of Cas' neck and shoulder.
Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, hands sliding once more down the built up perspiration on skin of his back. He sighed as he wrapped himself around his lover, felt their skin sliding against each other, Dean's sweat dampening both of them.
Dean marked the angel's skin. Claiming him. Not caring that the marks would soon be gone, only needing to see them on his angel's skin knowing he was the one who put them there. He pressed their lips together…
Cas kissed along Dean's jaw to his ear, quietly speaking into it… The same word. Over, and over, and over, and over.
"Dean. Dean. DeanDeanDeanDean…"
He repeated it, like a prayer. Like a curse. Like it was the only word that mattered.
His fingers clawed at Dean's slippery skin, his nails dragging into the human flesh.
"Dean, Dean, Dean…"
Again, and again…
Until…
"Castiel."
"DEAN!"
…
…
…
There was a rumbling beneath his ear.
Castiel opened his eyes and saw the gleaming chest of his human hunter beneath his cheek. The rumbling continued and he realized it was Dean chuckling. "You really don't sweat under any circumstances," Dean stated in wonder.
Cas simply sighed and licked at the sweaty skin in front of him, wondering himself at the salty taste it left on his tongue.
- 30 -
The End
Footnotes:
(1) Quark - 's quick answer to "What is smaller than an atom?": Atoms are made up of even smaller particles, such as protons and neutrons, which are formed from even smaller particles known as quarks. Subatomic particles form atoms, which in turn create molecules, the basic building blocks of matter.
(2) Anyone catch that reference to Dean's/Jensen's "fanfiction lips"? :D
(3) Not sure if anyone caught the reference to the song "Paradise By the Dashboard Light" by Meat Loaf. I've been listening to the Bat Out Of Hell album and couldn't resist. I don't even care that it's excessively cheesy. :D
Completed: December 17, 2016
Updated: January 10, 2017