You won't convince me that a town of 218 people has its own theatre, so don't even bother.
Chapter 24
Castiel smiled almost elatedly, happily munching his burger. The hunter in front of him was talking non-stop, only pausing briefly to swallow. He seemed to be having a good time, and this was, more than anything, what filled the angel with bliss. It was their first date, and as simple as it could look, Castiel couldn't be happier.
"And then, for the first time in his life, Sammy asked me: 'Dean, quick question. How do you talk to girls?' Damn, I was loading a gun and almost shot it on my foot!"
Castiel let out a little chuckle, enjoying the anecdote. He knew that Dean and Sam hadn't had the easiest of childhoods, so the fact that his charge could find nice memories to share with him was an added bonus to their date time.
"That must have been quite a surprise."
"Yeah, don't I know it? I thought I had such a nerdy little brother, and from one minute to another he jumped to puberty right on my face!"
"I like to see you smile, Dean," Castiel said softly. "I wish that I was able to enjoy that gesture on you more often."
Dean was taken aback for a moment, suddenly feeling warm above the neck and fuzzy in his stomach. He could almost see the pink cloud framing them like in a picture, which made him look away from the blue gaze and shift in his chair, focusing on eating his burger.
"I have made you uncomfortable," Castiel noticed, frowning sadly. "My apologies, Dean. It was not my intention."
"No, Cas, it's... it's not that," the hunter immediately retorted. "Just that sometimes you say something cute like that, and it catches me off guard and I don't know how to react."
"You think it is cute that I like your smile?" the seraph tried to understand. "Maybe I should increase the frequency in which I say these cute things, in order to help you grow accustomed to it."
"I didn't mean..." Dean jabbered, until he saw the mischievous glint in his friend's eyes. "Cas, are you teasing me on purpose?"
"Perhaps a little," he grinned, satisfied to have gotten the upper hand on the Winchester for once. "But I was being truthful anyway, Dean."
The human let it pass, not wanting to embarrass himself again. He still had his pride after all, and the evening was still young.
Dean had planned this date carefully, though he would never admit it. There was this bar in Lebanon with good beer and decent music, where the brothers and the angel usually went to relax between cases, and also Jessica when she felt like joining them; but it wasn't good enough for a date, and thus Dean had looked up another place for him and Castiel to have dinner. Not like it was easy, because there was a limit to what a tiny town of barely two hundred villagers could offer, but at least there was this small diner in a corner that actually served food. The fact that said food included some more than acceptable burgers had been almost a miracle.
"Thanks for the tip!" the waiter waved at them when they finished their meal and exited the place.
Once on the street, Castiel turned to the other male. The night had already fell.
"That was very enjoyable, Dean," he smiled. "I had a very good evening."
"What?" It was Dean's turn to frown. "Don't say that yet, as if we're already done. There's more to do."
"There is?" Castiel repeated, almost gleaming in pleasure at the idea that his special time with his human-friend-that-I-am-officially-dating-now was still going on.
"Don't be so excited," Dean mumbled, nervously combing his hair through his fingers. "It isn't anything great, but it's the best I could find around here in such short notice. Don't ask and just follow me, ok?"
Castiel nodded and did as the hunter asked. It couldn't matter less to him where Dean took him, as long as they were together for a bit longer. However, he wasn't able to hide his puzzlement when their next stop happened to be a shop, a little mini-market. Dean bought two cans of soda (not beer?!) and two packets of microwave popcorn, asking the clerk to please make them, using two paper bags as buckets.
"Keep it inside your coat," Dean instructed, handing him one of the popcorn bags after folding the top. "Popcorn taste best hot."
After leaving the shop, Dean headed to the town centre, where the Hall was. Normally, at this late hour it was already closed, but not today. Apparently they were using the big meeting room for some kind of social gathering, since there were a few more couples joining them, some with snacks and also blankets and others without.
"Dean, what are we doing here?" Castiel whispered, unable to contain his curiosity and grabbing the man's sleeve.
He would have preferred to take Dean's hand instead, but he had both of his occupied, carrying the cans and the other bag of popcorn.
"Movie night, Cas," Dean smiled. "Once a week. There's no cinema around, so this will have to do. Let's hope that at least the projector and screen are large enough and the chairs aren't broken? I don't know what we're going to watch, so... sorry if it's some teenager crap."
The seraph couldn't help to bite his tongue, or he would have laughed at the hunter's distress.
"I will not mind whichever movie is, Dean. I am already happy just by watching it in your company."
"Geez, Cas. Don't be so easy to please, or I'll go lazy on you. And I don't want to take you for granted ever again."
The movie was Pretty Woman. Castiel liked the chick-flick, Dean hated it (or so he said). It was almost midnight when they got back to the Impala, but there was still one last thing that Dean had planned out for their first date.
"Dean, why have we stopped here?" the celestial warrior asked when he turned off the car half way back to the bunker.
"It's called stargazing," he answered kinda sheepishly, getting out. "C'mon, Cas. It's relaxing."
"Are you stressed, Dean?" the angel worried, but he obeyed and exited the vehicle too.
"No. Just shut up and sit next to me," Dean chuckled, patting Baby's hood.
So Castiel did. For a little while they just stood there quietly, looking at the sky. There was a shooting star, and Dean remembered that normal people use to ask wishes to them, people who don't know how dangerous getting your wishes granted could actually be. But he knew, and wasn't going to risk it. Besides, what was the point of wishing to a star when he already had another safer way? Well, so to speak, because the tiny teardrop had already failed twice.
Dean glanced at his companion. Castiel was looking up too, but he seemed... distracted. Realizing this, the Winchester almost cursed himself. How could he be so stupid? Stargazing had been something soothing for Dad, Sam and him during their long hours on the road, but what interest could it hold for an angel of the Lord? A multidimensional-wavelength-of-celestial-intent that probably had witnessed new stars born? Or perhaps he was being reminded of how his home was about to come down crumbling any minute now? Oh yeah, what a smooth move that was.
"Cas, are you bored?" Dean hastily suggested, trying to get the angel thinking in anything else. "We can... we can just go back to the bunker, you know."
"I am never bored in your company, Dean," Castiel answered truthfully, locking gazes with him. "Why would I want to leave?"
"I don't know, I..." Dean sighed, nervously licking his lips. "It's only that, sometimes, I feel like I don't get you at all. You never ask for anything, and... sometimes it makes me think that you're only going with the flow. I need a bit of feedback from time to time, buddy."
"Do I make you feel insecure?" Castiel asked, aghast at the possibility. "Dean, I so deeply apologize! I simply did not want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, thinking that you were under obligation to do anything. Please, trust me! I am already unbelievable blessed by the chance of being with you romantically, I would not dare to expect anything else. But I do want you, Dean. I so much want you. I... I love you."
The soft and low tone in which Castiel finished his little rant mellowed Dean's heart. The seraph sounded truly crestfallen, almost miserable, by the idea of making him feel unappreciated. It was kinda adorable, in Dean's opinion. And of course, there was also the fact that Castiel once again had voiced out his feelings for him.
"I am sorry, Dean. I hope you could forgive me."
"Hey, it's ok. No big deal," Dean replied, now feeling a bit guilty. "It's not like I ever asked you before doing anything, so... I guess I'm at fault too. But you can talk to me. You have to tell me these things directly, because I'm dumb like that and likely if I mess up I won't notice until it's too late. And I don't want too late to happen to us, Cas. Understood?"
"You are not dumb, Dean," Castiel immediately defended him. "You are in fact very sensitive to other people's sentiments. But yes, I understand. I will do my best in expressing my desires to you from now onwards, if that will please you."
"Good! Let's start right now. What do you want to do?"
Castiel was silent for a second, thinking, and then he remembered his earlier want.
"I would like to hold your hand," he confessed. "And embrace you, and kiss you profoundly."
"You're such a sap, Cas," the human smiled, taking the other's hand. "Just say that you wanna make out with me and go for it."
With a little tug, Dean pulled Castiel towards him and kissed his waiting lips, letting out a moan at the pleasant sensation. Chaste at first, the kiss soon grew in passion, with both of them thoroughly exploring each other's mouths in a delicious dance of tongues.
"It still feels odd to kiss you," Dean whispered humorously between kisses, stroking the firm cheek. "Grazing your stubble makes my lips all tingly."
"I apologize. My attempts with a razor have been rather unsuccessful."
"It wasn't a complaint, Cas."
As if wanting to prove it, he cupped Castiel's face between his hands, caressing him with his thumbs and shoving his tongue back inside the heavenly mouth. The soft feeling of sandpaper under his fingertips was strangely calming in a way, or perhaps it was the fact that this was his angel. His, and nobody else's.
"Dean..."
Apparently Castiel was also getting into it, if that erotic whimper was anything to go by. His hands had clutched Dean's shirt the moment the man had let go of them, and now were slowly roaming the chest, the collarbone, the stomach... up and down wherever he could reach in a maddening gentle touch. At some moment Dean had hopped down Baby's hood and settled himself between Castiel's knees, allowing them to get even closer. The hunter grabbed the other's nape, lacing his fingers with the soft strands of dark hair, dominating the kiss.
It was too much. Dean's smell, Dean's touch, Dean's taste... too many sensations for his human vessel to take all at once, and yet not enough. Castiel needed more. He needed to feel his charge's body and soul, really feel him. The longing was so consuming that without realizing it, the angel moved his invisible wings towards his beloved. The ethereal cartilages of his damaged appendages closed around him in a tender gesture, in a protecting cocoon.
"Ooohhh..." Castiel moaned in his date's ear, shuddering all over.
Dean felt a spark of pride, listening the sultry noises he was causing and feeling the warm body pressed to his. He too was enjoying himself, heat starting to burn inside his pants. Maybe... maybe this would be a good time to step up their game? Admittedly, he was still a bit apprehensive about the whole playing-with-another's-junk, but this was Cas. Weird, dorky little guy that had pulled his sorry ass out of Hell. And he knew how dicks worked, after all he had his own. It was no mystery to him. Dean was confident he could make it good for Cas, and there was no time like the present.
He was about to make the daring move when something scraped against his back. Dean slightly rolled his shoulder, thinking that a leaf, an acorn or something had fallen on him. He continued kissing Castiel, but the sensation didn't go away. It was constant, persistent, like small twigs rubbing against his skin. It was distracting.
"Dammit, what the hell..." he grumbled annoyed, letting go of Castiel for a second to look behind and scratching his back.
There was nothing but air. No leaves, no twigs, anything... but he heard a tiny snapping sound, like something suddenly retracting. Dean turned back to the seraph, intending to restart the kiss, until he saw the horrified look in his best friend's face.
"Cas?" he asked, worried by this very unexpected change in attitude. "What's wrong?"
"I..." Castiel stuttered, obviously nervous. "Nothing is wrong, Dean."
"You sure? Look, if I went too strong onto you..."
"No! It is not your fault. I mean... everything is alright, Dean. I merely felt slightly out of myself, because... our kiss was intense. But I promise you that I am perfectly fine."
"Intense," Dean repeated, skeptical but pretending to buy it. "Ok, then. Should we continue?"
"By all means, yes, please."
Dean hesitated for a second, in case he had scared him somehow, but since apparently everything was normal, he took possession of Castiel's mouth again. He tried to be gentler now and not so hasty, playfully nibbling the angel's lips, but something was definitely wrong. All this while Castiel had been relaxed and pliant, responding to each kiss and touch with equal delight and eagerness, but now he was tense and restrained. Dean gave him a couple of minutes, waiting to see if perhaps he could get him to relax again, but it was to no avail. The mood was gone, and he didn't even know why.
"Cas?" he called him again, frowning.
Just in case, Dean dissimulately grinded his crotch against Castiel's, and... yeah, pretty sure nothing was raising from perdition down there.
"Cas..."
"I had a wondrous tryst with you today, Dean, for which I am very thankful," Castiel quickly spoke, hiding his face in the crook of Dean's neck, not looking at him. "This has been, by great difference, one of the best nights of my life. But now I would like to rest. May we return to the bunker, please?"
The Winchester stood there, trying to understand what might have happened to break so completely the nice atmosphere they had going until then, but came up with nothing. Perhaps Castiel's suggestion was for the best.
"Sure, Cas." Dean patted affectionately his angel's back, to let him know that even if confused, at least he wasn't angry at all. "Let's go back home."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Despite his reassurances, Dean couldn't help but feeling somehow irked by the bad note that their first date finished with, specially because he had no clue about what had happened to spoil it when it was going so well. He went through it several times in his mind, but couldn't pinpoint any bad word or touch that could have turned Castiel off. It was frustrating.
Perhaps he was looking at it the wrong way. Did he know what would turn on a celestial creature in the first place? Maybe they had different erogenous zones. Heck, did they even have any? Because as far as Dean remembered, angels were supposed to be asexual and genderless, and while currently Castiel was using a responsive human vessel, that fact could be important. There was a chance that it was Dean's fault, if he inadvertently had touched his partner as if he was a woman instead of a man, just because a female shape was what he was used to.
A pungent taste settled in the pit of Dean's stomach when he recalled April. That sly reaper bitch had taken advantage of a helpless Cas in need and popped his cherry before killing him. It was actually no wonder that he was a bit reluctant to engage in sexual behaviour, if that was even the issue, because... dammit, Dean couldn't forget the awesome little sounds that the angel had made. Castiel had seemed to be enjoying it as much as he did himself. Just thinking about it was enough to get the hunter hot and bothered.
Man, what a mess.
"Dean, look at this," Sam called ominously the moment his big brother stepped in the war room, standing hands flat on the table and a somber face. "Something is happening."
"And by your tone I bet it's awesome news like our usual, right?" he said, preparing himself for the worst, whatever that could be considering the life they led. "What we've got?"
"We're not sure," Jessica answered, tiredly closing a big and worn out notebook and putting it atop a pile of several others. "Sam and I have been looking through the manuals of these machines since yesterday, but we've only decrypted a few of the many alerts these things apparently are wired to warn us about. Who knows which one this is."
"I've seen it before, but I can't guarantee that it's exactly the same thing," Kevin told them, looking at the red dots that illuminated the board. "It happened when the angels fell and the bunker was put under emergency protocol, but at that time there were hundreds, maybe thousands of dots. This time there are only nine, and besides, some of them move."
"They move?" Dean repeated, curious, going to the map table.
"Yes. I've been sitting here or in the library translating the tablets since I came downstairs, and these dots appeared the same day we casted the Nine Choirs spell. They were all over the world, but since then they have slowly but steadily moved towards here. At first it was only two, but eventually the others too. Except this one that is moving to Australia," Kevin pointed to a dot barely leaving Mayotte, and then to another in the middle of Siberia, "and this one that still hasn't moved at all."
Dean squinted at the dots, and just as his eyes were randomly following one placed in Czech Republic, the tiny red mark blinked, showing up again barely a centimetre closer to the Austrian border. He briefly wondered how long it would take the dot to cross the ocean at this pace, when he noticed that two other dots were already in Arizona and Tennessee.
"Ok, so besides these ants roaming free, what's the matter?"
"You mean, despite the fact that we don't know what is this but the Men of Letters considered it potentially dangerous enough to set up an alarm for it?" Sam replied sarcastically.
Sometimes Dean really envied his little brother's talent for bitchfacing, specially in moments like this, when he would have liked to pull one himself.
"We should ask Castiel," Kevin suggested. "If this is related to anything angelic, he should be aware of it. And Balthazar too. Also Gabriel when he ret-"
Call for the Devil and he may appear, so goes the say. Perhaps it was also applicable to other celestial beings, because before the young prophet could finish his sentence, all the lightbulbs burst. Again.
"Fuck it! I'm really getting tired of this shit!" Dean yelled as soon as the emergency lights turned on.
"I'm actually surprised the emergency lights don't burst too," Jessica commented. "Do you know if they are protected by some specific sigils? Because at this rate, we could really use them."
"Quite the opposite, my lady," the archangel's voice was heard near enough to startle her. "The lights explode precisely due to the many protections of this place. Or it could be because my sheer amazingness?"
"Gabriel!" Dean shouted at the figure that had appeared in the barely illuminated room. "You douche, don't think you're not paying for the lightbulbs, because sixty-three of those every time you show up isn't exactly cheap!"
"Really, Deano, you disappoint me greatly. And here I brought you a gift straight from Hell that I'm sure not a million of lightbulbs could ever compare to," Gabriel snorted, carefully readjusting his posture to free a hand, and making it obvious that he was carrying someone in his arms. "But alright, if these electric appliances mean so much to you... Anything is better than listening to your whining."
The archangel snapped his fingers, and immediately all the lightbulbs were back as good as new. In the new light, everyone could see clearly the unconscious girl in his possession.
The older hunter stared at her, and couldn't look away anymore. All colour drained from his face, taking a pale hue similar to the recently saved girl's skin. Sam gasped beside him, but Dean already had enough trouble keeping his own lungs working to notice his brother. The world around him disappeared, all his attention focused on the girl: the blood stain in her pink shirt, the honey-blond hair, her mother's full lips, her father's nose... his nose. She even had John's chin, just like Adam, only a bit more delicate and feminine.
"I think you know each other," Gabriel spoke with intention. "She told me that her name was Emma."
Please, don't let him hurt me!
Those words, said in a pleading voice, had since long ago tormented the man. As he attempted a step closer to the archangel still holding her in his arms, Dean felt how heavily his heart was beating, and in a matter of seconds complete darkness swallowed him whole.
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Balthazar walked soundlessly, his expensive brand shoes making no noise in the wet street. He went through the smog that came from a sewer cover, grimacing at the bad smell that his stylish coat would be doused with. He was so incredibly tempted to abandon his current task and get back to his luxurious home, an inheritance from the very nice guy that had been his vessel, with his wonderful jacuzzi and cozy sheets and a mountain of clean clothes.
But somehow he resisted. At this moment he was an angel on a mission. It was just that said mission was making Balthazar remember all the reasons why he had deflected in the first place, right after their garrison descended to Hell and saved the so-called Righteous Man.
The night was chilly too, not that he was actually bothered by the cold, but the smell of the slums was a totally different matter. What could an anunnaki channel be doing in a foul place like this? But Balthazar was sure he had gotten it right. He could feel the pulse of an angelic calling. It was likely just a few metres away, by the next street, or the next corner, or...
Out of nowhere, he was roughly grabbed by the neck and shoved against the wall.
"Hey, hands off the goods!" he protested, not really caring for the sudden attack.
A shiny dagger was pressed to his neck. Just for a moment Balthazar assessed the situation seriously, but after checking that the weapon wasn't an angel blade, he relaxed again. Then he observed his assailant: no immediate danger there either, it was barely a boy. Well, better said a teenager. A stronger-than-normal one, but still no match for an angel. And look at that! If his senses didn't lie, it was exactly the person he was looking for!
"Oh, what a coincidence!" Balthazar smiled. "You spared me the trouble of keeping chasing you, kid. Much obliged!"
"Who are you?" the boy snarled, ignoring his words. "Why are you chasing me? Are you a hunter?"
"No hunter here, kid, but I guess you could said I'm on a mission for two of them."
The boy narrowed his eyes, hesitant of what to do, but not loosening his grip on Balthazar's neck nor his dagger a single bit.
"Look, whatever money they offered you, I can't let myself get caught. Whatever lies they have told you, they aren't true. I don't want to kill you or anyone else, so please, leave me alone."
"Hey, slow down. You're making assumptions that aren't true either," Balthazar said in a calming tone. "I was looking for you, but not with an ill intent. I don't even know who you are, but we have need of you for something extremely important."
The boy didn't seem convinced at all, but at least he let go of him.
"You smell different," he stated, confused.
"It's called taking a shower once in a while, kid. You should try it. No offense, but you stink almost as bad as the rats in this... this rat's hole."
"Not all of us have grown up with a full wallet, old man," the boy grunted, clearly regarding the fancy robes that the blond was wearing.
"I'm not an... wait, I actually am," the rogue realized. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. Listen, this is going to sound sort of lame, but here it goes. My name is Balthazar, and I'm an angel of the Lord!" he introduced himself, opening his arms in a mocking greeting. "There, I said it. Your name now, please?"
"Angels don't exist," the boy rebuffed, even more distrustful.
"Yeah, we get that a lot. Specially now that we're about to go extinct. But it's the truth."
The boy took a step back, inspecting the silver-eyed angel from head to toes.
"And why would an angel chase me to the slums?" he asked, on guard. "What do you need from me?"
"Oh, that's quite a long and complicated story, and I'd prefer not discussing it in this nasty place. Would you mind if I kidnap you?"
"Yes, I'd actually mind. You said that you were on a mission for two hunters? Then let me tell you that hunters tend to kill people like me, so no, thank you very much. I'm a kitsune, and I also have a mission of my own."
"Really? What mission is that?"
The boy looked away, tense, but he seemed to decide that there was no harm in confessing to an angel.
"Revenge. Years ago a hunter killed my mother. We lived in peace, without hurting anyone, but... I fell sick, and my mum had to take care of me. That hunter didn't even give her a chance."
"Most hunters are like that," Balthazar nodded in sympathy. "But the ones I'm doing this for are different, I promise you. The Winchesters aren't like most. If you ask them, they even could help you find this other hunter that you're searching."
At the mention of the surname, the kitsune's head snapped back at him. Eyes wide in surprise, he almost couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"Are you sure of that?"
"Yes! You don't have to worry, kid. Dean and Sam are a pain in the ass more times than not, but they're good people. They won't hurt you," the angel assured him, offering his hand. "Now, will you come with me, please?"
The boy immediately grabbed Balthazar's hand, surprising him at how easily he accepted.
"I'm Jacob Pond," the boy finally introduced himself. "And I'm eager to meet this... Dean Winchester."
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