Of Angel Hair and Red Roses
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Castiel friendship
Summary: Castiel likes it when Dean pulls his hair while Dean...just fixates on Castiel's pretty, pretty mouth.
Warnings: Uh…m/m? blasphemous sex?
Rating: R
Disclaimer: If I owned, then this would be an episode, not a fanfiction.
Additional A/N: Based off the song Rude Boy by Rihanna because every time I heard that song and the lyric "I like it when you pull my hair" I thought of Castiel on his knees with his hair being pulled by Dean. Hence the reason it's one of my favorite songs right now. XD I have the dirtiest mind ever.
It started small. Just light touches of the soft locks that sent prickling sensations down his body, making his toes curl. It became kind of a coping mechanism, which Castiel bore with his usual grace.
Dean hadn't really meant to do it. It had been another long, exhausting, completely fruitless day with Team Free Will and Cas, in a rare moment of weariness, had laid his head on Dean's shoulder in the back of the Impala, eyes closed. Without his control, his hand found its way into the angel's hair and ran through it once until Castiel's head popped up, blue eyes wide with surprise, and disappeared.
Still, Dean felt better after that, even as he missed the warmth of Castiel's body next to his damaged one.
"You alright?" Sam called from the front, his hazel eyes flickering in concern through the front mirror. Dean grunted.
As soon as they arrived at the motel, he let Sammy play doctor and promptly keeled over and fell asleep.
x*x*x
It happened again during another simple run—this time vampires—which brought back gut-wrenching memories of Gordon, leaving both Sam and Dean shaken. Castiel arrived just as Sam had fallen asleep, exhausting grief making him dead to the world. Castiel checked Sam over with his usual meticulousness and in a very human gesture, ran his hand through Sam's wavy locks and pushed the bangs back. Dean warmed a little at the growing friendship between Sam and Castiel.
Castiel turned his attentions away from Sam and frowned at Dean, blue eyes sparking faintly with concern.
"Are you feeling well, Dean?"
Dean snorted, "Oh yeah, I'm just peachy, Cas. Thanks for asking." Castiel frowned and tilted his head sideways in his signature confused-puppy look.
"How can one feel peachy? Fruits do not feel." Dean huffed.
"It's just an expression, Cas."
"You're avoiding the question again."
"I'm fine, Cas!" The angel's blue eyes flashed and he leaned forward, his nose inches away from Dean's.
"Do not lie to me. I can see inside your soul, remember?" Dean lowered his eyes and squirmed before saying softly.
"With that kind of power, I don't understand why you choose to hang out with me of all people. I'm the least holy person there is."
"Oh, Dean," Castiel sighed, leaning his forehead against Dean's, who stiffened in surprise, "how many times do I have to tell you that you deserve to be saved."
"But I didn't, Cas. You saw what I did to those souls! You see what I've done to you! I've cut you off from your family, your mojo is fading—Cas everything is my fault. I should just say yes and get it over and done with." Dean heard an inhuman hiss and opened his eyes, overwhelmed by the cerulean of the angel's.
Castiel pulled his head back and pushed Dean against the wall, angrily hissing again. "You will not say yes, nor will you blame yourself for this because if you remember I was the one who chose to disobey, I was the one to feel doubts, not you, me."
Dean swallowed. "But you did it for me," he said almost inaudibly. "And I've failed you." The angel growled and pushed Dean harder against the wall, lifting him slightly off the ground.
"No you did not,"he said fiercely, and Dean's arms flailed around wildly before landing on the angel's hair, gripping to gain some balance. Dean felt Castiel stutter beneath him, eyes growing wide.
"Oh," he said softly and disappeared in a flutter of wings. Dean landed in a heap on the floor, legs shaking.
What the hell was that?
x*x*x
Sam began to notice after awhile, the weird hair-touching thing Dean had going on with Cas. It usually only happened after difficult hunts, but since those were all they seemed to be getting, it happened a lot. Castiel, weary and less angel by the day, would end up sprawled on a motel bed, eyes closed, head in Dean's lap, as Dean threaded his fingers through his hair while flipping the channels on the TV.
It wasn't that he thought there was something going on between the angel and his brother, because if there had been, he knew he would have caught them by now, but rather something that needed to be going on.
One rare day when Castiel wasn't with them, the younger Winchester decided to bring it up.
"Dean, what's going on with you and Cas?" Sam watched through narrowed eyes as Dean jumped and his breath hitched and ears turned red.
"What? Nothing's going on!"
"Uh huh," Sam said dubiously.
"There isn't. Why do you ask?" Dean's eyes were wide; he looked like a cornered animal.
"Well, gee, I don't know, maybe the fact that you can't keep your hands off him. Well off his hair anyway."
"Dude, have you felt it? It's soft!"
"That doesn't explain anything."
"I don't know, Sammy. What do you want me to say? That it's some sort of action that conveys my deeper feelings—" Dean paused at Sam's smug face. "—wai-it doesn't. Sammy? Sam!"
Sam just grinned knowingly and walked away.
x*x*x
After that conversation with Sam, things got a little awkward with Cas. Dean still couldn't resist running his fingers through the angel's soft, soft, (did he mention soft?) hair, but he made sure to do it when Sam wasn't around. It wasn't that he was ashamed. It was just that he didn't want to have to see Sam's stupid smug face every time he did it, because his brother was wrong.
Right?
"Dean."
Said hunter whirled around and almost collided into a very unsteady Castiel.
"Cas…the hell?"
"Dean, I can't see…why are there two of you?"
"Dude, are you drunk?" Again, he added silently.
"I believe so, yes," Castiel swayed slightly and Dean grabbed him before he could do any damage to himself.
"You gotta stop doing this, Cas. It's no way to deal," he said gently.
"It seems to work for you." Dean winced.
"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly the best role model ever."
"I realize that," Castiel said in his low growl.
"Yeah and…" Dean frowned, "Hey!"
Castiel went on as if Dean hadn't spoken, "I was not made to handle human emotion, and this," he gestured to the liquor in his hand, "makes them all go away."
"It doesn't make the problems disappear."
"You think I don't know that?" Castiel snarled, cranky and put out. He pushed against a shell-shocked Dean. "You think I didn't see how every night after you were pulled out of Hell, you drank yourself to sleep, but you still dreamt of it. You still woke up and remembered. Yet you did it every single night for the longest time and I had to watch. How do you think that made your brother, Bobby, me feel?"
Dean swallowed, feeling trapped and helpless between the wall and a very angry and drunk angel. He stilled when he felt said angel shudder against him, grip on his shirt loosening. Castiel looked at him, face slightly green.
"I feel…unwell," he croaked, and his body swayed some more.
"Shit, Cas, c'mere," Dean said as he wrenched his body from Castiel and dragged him to the bathroom by the wrist.
"Come on, come on," he coaxed frantically, and he quickly flipped the toilet seat up just as the angel leaned into it and retched. He gripped the edge of the seat until his knuckles were white, heaving and retching all the while.
At one point, during a pause, a shaking Castiel looked up at Dean and said in a broken, breathless voice, "This didn't happen last time." His eyes were huge and incredibly blue, face white and limbs trembling. Dean bit his lip and smoothed the sweat-sticky hair out of his face.
"Yeah, well, you drank a hell of a lot more this time," he said, hating the way his voice cracked at the end. Castiel swallowed, throat working, and Dean watched as that pale face turned a sickly green, and before he even knew what he was doing, he had the angel's hair in his hand, holding it way from his face as he retched. The other hand drifted soothingly across Cas' back, trying to still the shaking.
As Castiel raised his head to gulp a breath, Dean couldn't help but admire the way holding his head back like he was caused the angel's neck to expose, smooth elegant lines showed off at their best. The thought was quickly pushed away when the angel began vomiting again.
Presently, that began to subside to just heaving and then to harsh gasps, head leaning on Dean's chest and fists twisted into his shirt. Dean's hand still gripped Cas' hair and his other entwined itself around the angel's still-trembling form, his mouth cooing comforting words against Castiel's damp locks. He heard the motel door open and close and Sam's concerned face appeared at the bathroom doorway.
Sam mouthed a What happened? And Dean nodded to the empty liquor bottle and flipped up toilet seat. His little brother's eyes lit up in understanding and his face twisted into a pained grimace.
Gonna get Aspirin, he mouthed and Dean closed his eyes gratefully. When he opened them again, Sam was gone and he shifted Castiel slightly in his arms.
Slowly, the shaking faded and the breathing calmed. Dean felt Castiel move his head and the pressure of warm breath skittering across his face did nothing for his self-control.
"Dean, he breathed, so Dean—of course—looked down and really too damn close. Those eyes were overwhelming and that mouth too open and teasing and how the hell does the angel's breath not smell like ass?
"How the hell do you not have bad breath?" Really, Dean hadn't meant to say that out loud.
Really.
Castiel's pretty—no, stop that—mouth twisted into a gentle half-smile, and he huffed a breath, sending warm air drifting across Dean's jaw. Dean shivered.
"Angel thing." Dean licked his lips and suddenly realized he still had his arms around a very aware angel, hand still pulling at said angel's tangled mane. He let go abruptly and Castiel let out a soft mewling whine. Dean licked his lips again and noticed how Cas' eyes left his and drifted lower, tongue poking slightly out of barely parted lips. That pretty mouth—damnit, stop—pursed and Castiel met his eyes again, tilting his head quizzically.
"I feel much better, Dean." And damn, that voice, hoarse and weathered, and the way those pretty, pretty—okay, enough, Goddamnit—lips formed his name, he was not responsible for the low moan that sounded deep in his throat.
He cleared his throat and willed his voice not to break. "You bounce back fast, huh?" Castiel leaned forward, hand outstretched. Dean leaned back until his back and head hit the wall.
"I suppose," his hand curled around Dean's neck. "I wonder what other things I could 'bounce back' quickly from."
Dean let out a harsh breath because there was no way in hell the angel knew how suggestive he was being, and the light pressure on his throat was teasing and serious as the same time and he had no idea what to do with that.
"That sound you made earlier. What was that?" Castiel's breath flickered across the hunter's neck, teeth close to the skin. Dean tried to work a swallow as unobtrusively as possible with Cas' hand around his throat and body pressed between his sprawled legs.
"What sound?" He finally choked out. Castiel looked at him for a moment before leaning in, gently biting along Dean's neck. Dean stiffened and yelped, then moaned low in his throat as Castiel kept working up his neck. Cas paused.
"That sound," he said against Dean, teeth nipping at the skin at the end of the sounds of t and d. He continued mouthing along Dean's jaw, and more of those low moans erupted unwillingly from Dean's lips.
"W-what are you doing?" he asked, hating the way his voice was an octave higher than normal. Castiel stopped, breath caressing Dean's lips softly.
"Making a point," and he dropped a feather-light kiss on his mouth and disappeared in a flutter of wings, leaving Dean with a tingling mouth, a raging hard on, and a confused state of mind.
Ten minutes later, Sam found him in the same position—without most of the hard on, thankfully—and looked at him, right hand clutching the Aspirin bottle.
"Dude, where'd our resident drunk angel go?" Dean flicked slightly glazed eyes at Sam, who narrowed his.
"Dunno," he said dazedly, standing up and walking to his bed, falling in bonelessly.
"What happened to you?" Dean thought about it for a moment.
"Dunno," he said again, voice muffled by a pillow.
"What do you mean you 'don't know'?" Soft snores filled the room. Sam glared at the sleeping lump in the next bed.
"Fine, asshole, but we're talking about this tomorrow."
x*x*x
For awhile, nothing happened after that. Castiel came in to give instructions and then fluttered out just as quickly. Sam tried to talk to Dean about what the hell had been going on with Castiel, but Dean, as usual, was a master at avoidance and denial, so he eventually gave up. Life became normal. For them, anyway.
Dean, on the other hand, was fed the fuck up and confused as all get out. He couldn't seem to stop reliving that scene, how surreal it had been with his angel's teeth grazing his skin and soft hair tickling his jaw. The sensations sent him dreams that were pains in the ass to explain to his brother, and fuck Cas needed to come back now.
"Dean." Sam was gone, out to get some food and flirt with the check-out girl he saw there earlier. (See? Dean was observant when he wanted to be.) Dean growled and lunged at the angel, pushing him against the wall.
"Dean, what are you doing?" Castiel asked, eyes amused.
"You have some serious explaining to do," he spit out, face inches from the angel's.
"Did you...think a little on my point from the other day?" Cas asked instead, voice still holding light entertainment.
"Think on it a little? I haven't stopped thinking about it and I still can't make heads or tails of it!" Dean snarled, snaking his fingers into the smaller man's (angel's?) hair.
Castiel huffed lightly, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"It's not too difficult, Dean." Dean barked an incredulous laugh.
"Not too difficult…Cas. You can't just do that to someone and disappear! I mean…I…it's just not right," he stammered.
Castiel closed his eyes and chuckled openly this time, low and quietly, but still audible. Dean gaped.
"Don't laugh at me," he bit out, tugging angrily at Cas' ridiculously unkempt hair.
Abruptly, the angel stopped laughing and his eyes flew open to meet Dean's, a startled keen low in his throat. Dean noticed the reaction, narrowing his eyes. He pressed closer still to his angel's body and tugged experimentally again at the hair. This earned him a soft mewl and the answering press of Castiel's hips against his. It hit him in a flash.
"You like that, don't you?" Dean gasped, "You like it when I pull at your hair, huh? It's sensitive, isn't it?" Wordlessly, Castiel nodded, blue eyes huge and luminous in the low light of the motel room.
Dean grinned, smile gleaming and dangerous, and moved one hand out of Cas' hair, pressing it to the angel's hips, gripping possessively. He yanked at Castiel's hair, who moaned lowly at the action, and bit at his neck mimicking Cas' own actions not so long ago. Castiel's fingers flexed onto Dean's shoulders, grabbing tightly. Dean moved to Cas' jaw, nipping at the skin in an echo of last times' episode.
"See, Cas, this is why you don't get Dean Winchester mad. It'll come back to bite you," he growled onto the angel's skin, biting hard to emphasize his words. Castiel's breath stuttered in short pants as Dean worked at the angel's pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap around the hard length. Castiel's eyes—which had shut during this time—now opened wide and his sinful lips parted with a soft pop.
Dean took one look and bit down finally, finally on the angel's pretty, pretty mouth, and swallowed his harsh groan. Cas' hips grinded forward into Dean's hand, growing more and more frantic by the second, eyes wide and glassy. Within minutes, the angel came and shuddered in Dean's arms, who released Cas' mouth regretfully. Cas fell limp into Dean, who barely caught him.
In a graceful, effortless move, the angel slid down onto his knees, clever fingers already having undone Dean's jeans and pulled down his boxers. He stroked Dean lightly with teasing fingers and Dean threw his head back and moaned lowly in his throat.
His favorite noise, Castiel noted happily before slowly reaching out to lick at the pre-come on the head. Dean was watching with wide, dilated eyes, because really that angel's mouth was too damn pretty for his own good.
"Cas," he whined because seriously, enough teasing, and slid his hands into that gorgeous head of hair, pulling Cas closer to the desired destination. Castiel obligingly opened his mouth that Dean was so fond of—Castiel wasn't stupid, you know—and took him in, tongue swirling, and teeth scraping torturously.
He felt Dean's groan vibrate through his entire body and hummed pleasantly at having caused that sort of reaction in his charge.
Dean, meanwhile, was staring—or rather, gaping—at the angel on his knees before him, rose-red bitten lips curled sensuously around his dick.
"Oh God, Cas, your mouth," he rasped breathlessly, because the kind of things he was doing should not have been known to a virgin, much less an angel virgin. Castiel purred, back arching prettily under Dean's gaze. He slid his eyes up to meet Dean's dark emerald ones, looking up at him through his lashes under a shock of tangled dark hair, in a look innocent and coy enough to be considered dirty.
Dean's breath hissed through his teeth and he tugged at the messy locks, silky hair spilling over his fingers. He felt the angel's muffled high keen and snapping teeth, sending shocks of pain-pleasure intense enough to make him spill inside the angel's kiss-swollen mouth. Castiel swallowed his seed down, licking at the escaping liquid around the softening cock before popping his pretty self off to look at Dean, licking his lips.
Dean flopped bonelessly on the bed.
"Shit, Cas," he mumbled. "C'mere." The angel half-smiled and slipped his coat and shoes off before crawling into bed next to the hunter, snuggling against him, tucking his head under Dean's chin.
For a few moments, they lay silently together, breathing in sync with Dean's hand absently stroking Cas' hair, still soft as ever and even more beautifully tousled.
"Dean," Castiel said presently.
"Hmm?"
"That was my point."
Dean let out a half-exasperated, half-hysterical breath and rubbed his free hand over his face.
"Goddamnit, Cas."
Heeeee. I hope you guys liked it. I've been on a roll with my Supernatural oneshots. I love writing them and I have so many more ideas for this pairing.
Anyway, feedback is like having my very own Castiel (okay, not really, but close.)
