Very much dirtier than the last fic (well, only in the beginning). Just sayin. Also written when sick. But the title makes sense this time!
Summary: Chapter two, following "Sweeter than Rootbeer?" obviously... Cas is feeling pretty down, especially after Dean snaps. Maybe a certain demon can help? Part two of a most likely three part fic.
Genre: Humor/Romance
Rated: M, again, but this time for more obvious reasons.
Language: Bloody English!
Length: 3, 200-ish words.
Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable... I'm poor anyways, so don't sue. You'll just get the fanfiction, it's all I have...
Warning: Angel masturbation/blasphemy within. Always fun times, right? Also just a pretty bad fic in general. But I had to do it. My brain held me hostage.
Note: I get the Three Muskteers references make no sense (even though I think there's only one in the beginning of this one...), but I just recently got into them, and the musketeers just remind me of the Supernatural boys, so it couldn't be helped... Don't know what the hell I'm talking about, look it up on Wikipedia - that place it amazing...
Castiel woke up soaked in sweat and tangled in bed sheets. His cock throbbed painfully, and it took him a moment to realize that he was naked besides his boxers. Dean stood over him, smiling evilly.
"Morning, Porthos. I see someone had a wet dream last night."
The angel felt his face grow red hot, and he hastened to sit up and turn away. Dean's grin got wider as he moved back into Cas' line of vision.
"Aw... you're adorable," the older Winchester crooned, just as Sam emerged from the bathroom.
"Dean, leave the poor guy alone. Jesus H. Christ..." Sam huffed, rolling his eyes.
Castiel nodded in thanks, then lightly smacked Dean's forehead, pushing him away. Dean shrugged, and walked to the fridge, unaffected. Stretching, the angel stood and headed carefully towards the bathroom for a much needed shower. He shut the door forcefully behind him and locked it, relieved that he had some alone time. For the moment. Rubbing his temple, he turned on the shower slowly and let the water run as he pulled down his boxers.
His thoughts were still on Meg, who had plagued his dreams all of last night and tortured him with those lips, that smile, that soft, seductive touch that drove him over the edge again, and again, and again...
Before he knew it, he was in the shower, letting the hot water wash over him as thoughts of Meg took over. Front and center was the memory of when he had kissed her in front of the Winchesters without a care. Originally, he blamed it on the porn he had watched the previous night, with the pizza man. Then it was human reflex. Then on Jimmy, after that, the fact he was in a male vessel. But recently, he had come to terms with what had happened. Subconsciously, he wanted something more from the demon. Much more.
In his mind's eye, he saw her arching into him, digging her nails into his back as he bit her neck; her legs wrapping around his waist; her cool fingers making their way down his chest, his stomach, across his hip.
His breath hitched in his throat as his need became apparent. Suppressing a groan, he ran his fingers up and down his shaft, eyes shut tight as he imagined the demon brushing her fingertips ever-so-gently along his cock; he saw himself bite her bottom lip and she moaned and kissed him deeply, grabbing at him, making him buck up into her hand. Cas groaned quietly as he saw Meg pumping his cock slowly, a smile gracing those pretty lips as she panted against his neck. Castiel gasped as his thumb swiped over the tip of his penis, precome aiding him as his fantasy became hotter, and he pumped harder, then, suddenly, it all became to much. White sparked behind his eyelids and his body shook with his building orgasm. Cas swallowed hard, biting his tongue as he came, letting out a strangled sort of moan.
When the tremors stopped, he opened his eyes, slowly letting his surroundings come into focus. Warm water ran over his figure, washing his seed down the drain. Gasping he caught his breath and reached for a wash cloth.
He really needed to wash up.
By the time he emerged from the bathroom, Sam and Dean were about half-way through Freddy vs Jason. Castiel sighed. He considered the Jason movies to be frankly, idiotic. He did find Freddy pretty creepy though - any guy with a damned striped sweater and fedora and friggin' metal-clawed glove that creeped around in your dreams and killed you in your sleep was a little more than enough to give him the jeepers. What was worse, though, was when Dean made fun of the "big-bad angel" who was afraid of an essential "little vengeful spirit" when he had single-handedly fought "horrible, horrible monsters" without "batting an eyelash."
Cas coughed from the doorway, trying not to look at the TV as Freddy sneered.
Dean looked up and flashed him a toothy grin. "Hey hey, big boy, what took ya so long?"
The angel frowned and walked over to his duffel, swiping it off the floor. Sam looked up as well and watched as Cas flitted about the room, throwing his possessions into it. Cas tried not to look at either of them, but he could feel the heat spreading to his ears and he had to look up into those laughing green eyes.
"I was taking a shower, Dean," he huffed, flashing a bitch-face before zipping up the duffel and flinging it over his shoulder.
"Are we going or what?"
The older Winchester snickered as he rose to his feet, stretching his arms up over his head. Sam ran a hand through his hair before standing as well and reaching for his laptop. Cas observed, while still jutting out his bottom lip rather haughtily, that the rest of their stuff had already been taken out to the Impala. Making sure the Winchesters were right behind him, he stalked out the door straight to Dean's car.
"Pop the trunk...please," he added last second, gathering enough common sense to remember that Dean had had a short fuse lately.
But Dean was still smirking as he opened up the trunk, and even took the duffel from him, throwing it in the trunk before heading to the driver's side. Castiel pursed his lips before climbing into the back of the Impala. He dreaded the long drive to come - the angel could feel a migraine forming slowly and he knew that at the turn of a key, Dean would be blaring his music, driving way too fast and recklessly, and brewing in his own thoughts, meaning that soon enough, all of them would definately be a bundle of nerves by the time they arrived back at Bobby's to check in.
Oh, goody...
Of course, Castiel had been right.
The first hour or so of the ride "home" had gone pretty smoothly - Dean kept the music down, and Cas took a short nap in the back seat, sleeping through the worst of the migraine.
But then it all went downhill from there.
Cas didn't even know what the hell had happened; all he knew was that when he had woken up, Dean and Sam were arguing in not-so-hushed tones up front.
I knew all that joking around was covering up something... was his first foggy thought. He could tell, not because he could understand yet what they were saying, but from the tone of Dean's unsteady voice.
"Sam, no, you don't understand!"
"I know, but I could try if you would just talk to me, Dean," Sam said, and the angel could tell he was straining to keep himself from yelling right back.
Dean shook his head, slapping the steering wheel furiously.
"Sam, I am talking to you! You're just not listening!"
"No, I am listening! You wanna know why? Because you never talk, and when you do, it's usually pretty damn important, so I tend to listen! Okay? And what you're doing now isn't talking, what you're doing is yelling and blaming shit on Cas because he's there!"
At the sound of his name, Cas sat up a little, perching himself on his elbows instead of lying down face-first on the leather seat.
Dean growled low in his throat, his features flashing between rage and pain.
"Sammy, you just have no idea what's been happening to me..." he whispered.
"Dean, I'm seeing Lucifer ride my ass daily. I'm pretty sure I get it," Sam said, a little harshly.
The older Winchester bit his tongue, then glared out the windshield.
"It's just... he went and left, and I hated him for it, accepted the fact that he was long gone and that we were gonna die, but then he showed up and said he needed help and let us get rid of the souls, and he said he was sorry, and I believed him, and then I thought he was dead, but he came back and said he would repay us and fix everything, but then he got taken over by the damn Leviathan, and then he died for good, and he was gone for months, and I accepted that, but then..." Dean sucked in a steadying breath before continuing, "...he came back, Sammy. He came back... but things haven't been the same... something's different, something's wrong... and I feel like he's not him anymore, and I can't... handle that... Sam, it's pretty much as bad as it was when you came back soulless. Or when you were with Ruby... I didn't know when you were Sam, or when you were her bitch, and now I still don't know who either of you are..." Dean confessed.
Cas felt something inside him constrict, and suddenly he sat up straight as Sam prepared for a heated, tearful retailiation.
"Dean... if that's how you feel- Dean, you should have said something. I could have left - I could still leave," the angel whispers, teeth bared as tears well in his eyes. He's hurt, he really is. But mainly, Cas just feels like an idiot. He shouldn't have come back, the whole concept was stupid, there was no way that things could go back to normal, and now he had made everything worse...
Damn, there was that miraine again, making every sound feel like a sharp stab to the brain, amplifying Dean's words.
It takes a second for the older hunter to realize that Cas heard everything he said, but only one more for him to throw something back fiercely.
"Fine then, just leave me again, dammit Cas, just go. Again! And don't you dare come back this time!" Dean yells, a single tear falling down his cheek.
Castiel pauses, now he can tell Dean is seriously hurt, and that he should do something to help. Something he said hit where it hurt, but just as he's about to react, Dean stops the car, hitting the brakes hard, and turns around.
"Cas, I thought you wanted to go!"
Another pause. "But-" the angel starts, but is interrupted by Dean's shattering voice, quiet, but powerful.
"Cas...go. Please."
And with a flutter of wings, he was gone.
It really didn't surprise him that he was alone. In a bar. Again. Only this time, the angel had managed to find a quiet, out-of-the-way bar where the only sounds were the tinking of glasses, the pouring of liqour, hushed blues sounding from an old jukebox, quiet chatter, and the sound of his breathing as he stared blankly into his glass of whiskey. The bartender had taken pity on his sorry appearance and gave him his first round free, if he promised he would have a second. And a third. And a fourth.
Castiel had confidently said "yes" and "better make it a double." Or just give me the whole damn bottle.
It also didn't surprise him to hear a familiar voice in his ear, soft and a little prudent.
"So, just how many shots will it take to wash away all the hurt in a pretty-much-fallen angel?"
Cas sighed and muttered, "We meet again, Meg." He downed the rest of his drink and wiped his mouth. "Why are you here? Are you following me?" he asked, a little leery.
Meg laughed her musical little laugh and turned his face towards her, her hand softly caressing the stubble on his cheek.
"Honey, I don't need to follow you. You're just too predictable."
Castiel wanted to grimace, to turn away, and disappear, but he didn't. Instead he closed his eyes, welcoming her touch, savoring it.
"Clarence, what's wrong, hun?" he heard her ask. The angel opened his blue eyes at her tone.
"A- are you concerned about me, or am I delusional, Meg?" The question was genuine, but it also sounded slightly teasing. The demon pouted, making Castiel want to tackle her then and there, but then she sat beside him, leaning on the bar, and sighed.
"I could be worried... or I could just be nosy. You choose."
The angel bit his lip, his cheek tingling where she had touched it. He stared into those big brown eyes and tilted his head, trying to read her, find a motive, any motive, as to why she should be concerned with his well-being.
"I'm going with nosy... it's simpler."
"Well then feed my curiosity. What's going on?"
Castiel licked his lips and searched her eyes. What he saw made him look away. Tenderness, empathy, worry. "It's...complicated..." he murmered, avoiding her gaze, but a soft "Cas" made him look up. He was actually rather taken aback - no one had ever said his name like that, not even Dean.
"Yes...?"
"What's wrong?" She paused. "Did something happen between you and the boys?" Castiel didn't even have to reply. The answer was clear on his face.
"Oh, hun, what happened?" Meg asked, and Cas couldn't find the words to explain. She stared at him intently, pretty red lips pursed, brown eyes sad. The angel wondered what parallel universe he had to be in in order for this demon to actually care about his little problems with Dean and Sam. Mainly Dean. The angel gave her a strangled sort of look and sighed. Meg bit her lip nervously.
He flinched slightly as her hand rested lightly on his thigh, but otherwise remained still. Nothing happened for several minutes. People shuffled around the bar, blues turned into old rock and roll, but the angel and demon in the corner didn't dare move.
At least not until Meg swallowed, rubbed Cas' leg tenderly and whispered, "Cas, I'm sorry things aren't working out..."
He slowly looked into her eyes and scoffed. "Yeah... me too," he muttered, and motioned for the bartender. Meg watched as his glass was refilled, and as he picked it up and held it too his lips and drank. The angel caught her eye as he set down the glass, and she hurriedly looked away.
"Meg?" he murmered, voice low.
"Yeah?"
"Why are you here? Like this? With me? What do you want?"
There was a long pause and Cas closed his eyes, content to just sit and wait while the heat from Meg's hand warmed the cold skin under his jeans. He heard her intake several breaths in order to voice an answer, but none made it out. His ear suddenly twitched as her warm hand reached up to swipe a few stray strands of hair from his forehead, tuck a few more behind his ear, and finally come to rest at the nape of his neck, fingers moving soothingly in a circular motion.
"Castiel, what do you want?" she breathed in his ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Opening his eyes he sighed. Slowly, he looked to his right to see Meg gazing at him, fire burning in her eyes. Several emotions were hidden there, just beneath the surface. He took a deep breath, considering all the possible outcomes, then shook his head. Damn it all. Cas ran his fingers down her extended arm to her shoulder, eyes following his fingers. He looked at her briefly, meeting her eyes, then grabbed her by the jacket, ramming her body into his. Her neck snapped backwards and he lurched forward so that they were nose to nose. "Meg," he whispered harshly. The angel could hear her heartbeat escalate, along with her breathing, and he felt himself smile. His hand shifted from her shoulder, up her back, and finally to her neck, moving her so that their lips brushed. He laughed harshly when she closed her eyes, savoring the wrongness of it all.
"I'll ask one more time, Meg. What do you want? Do you want this?"
His answer came in the form of a long, sweet, hungry kiss that promised so much more if he would only say the word.
When he pulled away, she growled menacingly and stretched to reconnect their lips. Cas smiled. That was all the answer he needed.
Aha! Cliffhanger! What now, ey?
I'm sorry for any spelling errors you may have discovered. Some asshole is burning leaves by my house, and it's giving me a killer migraine. It probably doesn't help that it's one o'clock either, though... Oh well. One more chapter, lovelies.
