Angel is the Centerfold
I heard the song "Centerfold" by the J. Geils band and this song . . . it just wrote the story for me, I couldn't help it. Enjoy. Of course I don't own the boys or anything, just thought you should know in case you were wondering. Oh and no spoilers beyond season 5 (Because I myself haven't seen beyond season 5, I'm getting there) If there is anything spoilery . . . I guessed it.
It had been years since Dean had seen Cas. He had gone his separate way after . . . everything. Dean thought back to the worried angel's dark blue gaze. He remembered Cas, oblivious to personal space, jokes, and most things involving human nature. Sometimes, he had to admit to himself, he missed his own little angel. He looked over at Sammy sitting on the bed next to his own, sleeping peacefully. They had been through a lot, but eventually they had all made it out. Sam used to look so innocent when he was sleeping, the world of hunting used to slip away from him and he used to be free. Now his face was hardened, scared in more than one place, and he slept rigidly, as if just waiting for the next attack. Dean sighed sadly, wishing it weren't so.
He had tried to fall asleep hours ago, but he too was haunted with memories from the past, experiences he would never forget. Sometimes when he started to drift off, claws would come from nowhere and seem to rip at his chest. He would sit bolt upright in bed, breathing hard, sweating, and then realize there was nothing there. Sometimes, images of hell would flicker in his eyes before he fell asleep, all prompting him to stay awake for days on end. He would see other things too. Lucifer rising, Sam getting killed by that SOB and falling to his knees, he would see Cas exploding into a million little angelic pieces, teeth scattering into Chuck's hair, he would see ghosts and ghouls he'd fought along the way. He would see the people he'd lost. The ones he couldn't save. His mind flickered back to Jo. To his lips on hers right before . . . no. he needed a distraction, and fast.
He reached over beside his bed and pulled out one of the skin mags he kept in his duffle bag there. He glanced over at Sammy quickly. He was still out like a light, but Dean knew he didn't sleep deeply. He was a hunter, he couldn't. Dean decided to just look at the pictures, keeping his hands out of his pants. He didn't want Sam waking up to him jacking off. Again. He flipped through the pictures, and the magazine almost instantly opened to the centerfold. It was a dude. Damn it Sammy! Dean thought. Maybe this was revenge for last time he had caught Dean, he had replaced his "Busty Asian Beauties" with some . . . some dude porn? Crap. Then he finally saw what was on the page.
He lay on a bed with white satin Sheets, his arms up behind him, exposing his chest to the world. His abs were perfect, not too defined, but not too flabby, his arms were bulky and his skin was unblemished. Some of the white satin sheets covered (hardly) his manhood. Black angel wings spread out on the blankets beneath him. It was all very tasteful. Have you ever been touched by an angel? The caption read. Dean felt like his eyes were about to pop out of his head. Cas seemed to almost smirk at him from the page. He reached for his cell phone automatically. Maybe Cas had decided to go back to heaven? To leave his vessel? But . . . Jimmy hadn't seemed the kind of guy to . . . and he still had wings! Those had to be Cas's wings, not some cheap Victoria's secret model knock off. Those were real. Without really thinking he dialed Cas's number. He answered on the third ring, sounding alert and emotionless as always.
"Hello?" He asked; his voice gravelly on the line. Dean was silent for a moment, not even knowing what to say now that he was talking to Cas for the first time in years. "Dean? Dean are you alright?" Cas asked, worry sounding in his voice, replacing his regular emotionless tone. It seemed the only time Cas ever had emotion was when he was concerned for Dean. Dean cleared his throat.
"Yeah yeah I'm fine. Wanna tell me what you're doing in the centerfold of a skin mag?" He asked, trying not to shout and wake Sammy. Dean could almost hear Cas's blush over the phone.
"Umm . . . I was . . . trying something out." He mumbled, all emotion immediately stripped from his voice.
"Trying something out? Eating a veggie burger instead of a bacon burger is trying something out Cas! Posing for a freakin' skin mag is . . ."
"They paid good money." Cas said, as if that made any sense.
"Since when do you even need money?" Dean asked.
"Since never. What were you doing looking at a male skin magazine anyway?" Oh. Oh shit. This looked . . .
"Sammy snuck it into my stash." He answered truthfully.
"Ah." Cas almost sounded . . . disappointed. Maybe Dean was imagining things.
"You shouldn't be in a skin mag Cas. You're too . . . innocent."
"You haven't seen me in years Dean, haven't even spoken to me. You don't know what I am anymore." Dean felt as if he had been punched in the gut.
"Cas I-."
"If the only reason you called me was to chastise me for ruining my so called 'innocence', I'm going to hang up now."
"CAS! Cas no!" Dean looked over to Sam, still mercifully asleep on the bed next to him. "Cas you know why I didn't call. Why I couldn't. I still . . . I still see it all you know? I can't sleep. I can't ever sleep. I still see everyone I love dying. I still see you. . ." Dean choked off, hardly able to even say the next words. "Every time you're around me you're in danger. And I didn't want to lose you." The line was quiet for a few minutes, before Cas said, his voice sounding hoarse.
"And it didn't occur to you that by pushing me away, you were losing me?" Dean stared up at the ceiling, one hand wondered over to the hand shaped print Cas had made on his shoulder, the other holding the phone up to his ear.
"I'd rather be alone than watch you die."
"And what about what I want?" Cas asked.
"What do you want Cas?" Dean asked back, not even knowing what he was saying anymore. He felt like his brain had checked out on this conversation long ago. There was more silence on the other end, and for a minute Dean felt worried. Maybe it was better this way though. If he scared Cas off, for good this time, he would be safe.
"Where are you?" Cas asked, voice abrupt.
"I'm at the Howard Johnson in San Antonio Texas, room 335." Dean answered, unthinking. Wait . . . this was the opposite of what he wanted he wanted Cas to be safe . . . but then there he was, sitting on the bed beside Dean, just like he had been one of the first times he had appeared to Dean. Dean looked up at him, clothes as disheveled as ever, hair mussed from travel, eyes big and almost eaten up completely by the pupil. Cas leaned down to Dean, stopping about half an inch from his face, until all Dean saw were Cas's eyes.
"I want you. I've always wanted you, and I will always want you." Cas answered. He closed the space in between them and pressed his lips to Dean's, gently. His lips were soft and warm. He pulled away after a moment, and blinked his eyes slowly open.
"What do you want Dean?"
"I want you to never leave me again." Cas kissed him again and Dean could feel him smile against his lips.
"Never push me away again and I never will." He breathed.