A/N: The Sex(TM).
Four
Brooke was standing in the abandoned factory she'd been working a case in, hunting a ghost. Castiel stood before her, telling her he needed her to come with him to help him look for Crowley.
"Look for Crowley?" she repeated, holding a giant container of salt in one hand and a shotgun full of rock salt in the other. "You're working with Crowley. How did you lose him?"
"No, no," Castiel said, and approached her. He flooded her mind with information. Sam and Dean want to talk to Crowley so I pretended to do a ritual to summon him, and then pretended it failed. So now they want to do it the hard way, and find him with maps. So I have to pretend to look for him with them, so I told them I would come back with you.
Brooke rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "Why would you get me involved?" she demanded. "Things get more complicated the more people are involved in your lies!"
"Because it would look weird if you weren't there, helping me."
"Can't you tell them I'm busy Hunting? Which wouldn't even be a lie?"
Castiel opened his mouth to reply, but the ghost had appeared, attracted and annoyed by their arguing. It shrieked and flew towards Brooke, probably because she wasn't an angel and was less intimidating. She dropped the container of salt and aimed the shotgun at the ghost, shooting it full of rock salt. It disappeared, its shriek still resounding in the air.
Castiel hadn't even reacted to the ghost, or the shotgun going off. He was still staring semi-angrily at Brooke.
She lowered the gun and looked at him. "You're very good at focusing," she said. "You've got this stare you do that makes me all weak at the knees."
Castiel's jaw jutted, and he continued staring.
"Yeah, that one," Brooke said, grinning at him. "You're doing it right now. Makin' me all wet for you."
His expression broke, just a little. She felt him reach out for her with his mind, wondering if she was being sarcastic.
Only a little, she said.
He quirked an eyebrow. A little sarcastic or a little wet?
She chuckled, and didn't answer.
You're emotions aren't muted anymore, he said.
No. Been too long since the last time I've seen you. It wore off.
Do you want me to put it back?
Oh, no, she said, smiling at him, her eyes blazing. Been too long since I've been this horny.
He closed the distance between them, his trench coat billowing out behind him, wings spread, and kissed her, hard. She moaned into his kiss, dropping the salt and gun onto the ground and wrapping her arms around him.
He pulled back. "We don't have time for this," he said.
"Make time," she growled at him.
He kissed her again, shoving his tongue into her mouth. We need to get back to Sam and Dean. Pretend to look for Crowley.
"Mmm…" she replied.
Castiel pulled away from her again, breathing hard. He placed his forehead against hers.
Automatically, she began to breathe deeper, slower. He matched her breathing, and she could feel him, feel his heartbeat slow, his blood go quiet.
"Guess this is what happens when we're not intimate for a while," Brooke murmured. "We fight, we glare at each other, we have angry make-out sessions. What are we, teenagers?"
"I've never been a teenager," Castiel said, completely seriously.
"God. Our minds our linked and you still don't get half the shit I say." Brooke laughed. "Take me to Sam and Dean," she said.
Castiel took a moment, to trace his thumb down her jawline. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much," he murmured, staring down at her, still so close to her face.
She touched his cheek. "Don't apologize to me for that. You do what you have to to stop Raphael. That's all."
He placed his forehead against hers, for just a moment, then teleported her away.
###
They spent half an hour or so searching Samuel Campbell's private office, going through his books, his maps, his locked safe. They found nothing. Then Samuel appeared, holding his gun, and stared around at them all. The beginning of an argument ensued between Sam, Dean, and their grandfather, so Dean asked if Castiel and Brooke would give them a minute alone.
Brooke allowed herself to be teleported away.
###
Samuel, in the end, refused to help them, which meant they had to do more research on their own. They found some place to crash for the night, intent on pouring through book after book, looking for ways to locate Crowley. Sam and Dean had taken the table in the corner, and there were no more chairs, so Brooke took one of their books off the table and plopped down on the couch to go through it. Keeping up appearances and all that.
Castiel wandered about the room for a while, a book in one hand. Eventually, though, he grew restless and bored, tired of pretending to look for a demon that he knew, perfectly well, the location of. He sat down beside Brooke, who scooted over a little for him, flipping a page as if she'd actually been reading any of the book she'd taken from Sam and Dean half an hour earlier.
Castiel fidgeted on the couch for a while.
Cass, Brooke thought to him, chill. When you're fidgety, it makes me fidgety.
He grumbled incoherently at her, then got up and flipped on the TV. The volume was low, and he kept it that way so as not to disturb Sam and Dean, who were actually doing research. Castiel spent the next five minute flipping through channels. Brooke forced herself to ignore him or she'd end up smacking him. Then he got up off the couch again and began fiddling with something.
Brooke closed her eyes and massaged her temples with her fingers. You are like a toddler. I thought angels were supposed to be calm, cool, and collected. You've been that before. Why can't you be that now?
This is infuriating, he said. Lying, pretending to help Sam and Dean find Crowley… Worrying, constantly, about Raphael, and you, and Sam and Dean.
Okay, all right. Brooke took a breath.
Castiel had inserted a VHS tape into the player on top of the TV. He sat back down.
Brooke touched his hand for a moment, offering her strength and support, then she went back to pretending to read. She hoped that whatever movie he'd just put in would keep him occupied for more than three seconds. She actually began to read the book that she'd been flipping through, finding the information relatively interesting…
Brooke didn't know how long she'd been sitting there when Castiel spoke again. He had gone blessedly still for some time. "It's very complex," he murmured.
"Mm," Brooke, Sam, and Dean all replied at the same time, absorbed in whatever they were reading.
"If the pizza man truly loves this babysitter… why does he keep slapping her rear?"
Brooke looked up from her book and stared at the TV, then she turned and stared at Cass. Having been ignoring him for some time, droning out his thoughts and emotions as she had taught herself to do, she had hardly noticed his shift in emotional state. He was incredibly confused and… aroused.
His voice lowered an extra octave, and he stared seriously at the TV, squinting at it as if he'd never had sex in his life. "Perhaps she's done something wrong," he muttered.
Brooke continued to stare at him, then glanced over his shoulder and up at Sam and Dean, with an expression like, What the fuck is happening?
"You watching porn?" Dean asked.
Castiel glanced up at him, but did not respond, and soon his gaze returned to the TV.
"Why?" Dean said.
"It was there," Castiel explained.
Dean was clearly flustered. "You don't watch porn in a room full of dudes," he explained, slowly, as if to a child. "And you don't… talk about it. And—and…" He gestured towards Brooke. "Your girlfriend's right there, which just makes it even weirder. Come on, man. Just turn it off."
Castiel looked at Dean awkwardly for a moment, then turned back to the TV, with no intention of turning it off… Then he glanced down at himself.
Brooke's heart skipped a beat.
"Oh, now he's got a boner," Dean muttered.
Castiel lifted his gaze, slowly, to Brooke, and filled her mind with memories of the last night they had seen each other, a year before.
Brooke felt her face flush, her breathing quicken.
Castiel stared at her, and he felt a little more like his old self, the version of him that would never back down from anything or anyone, who could make her orgasm by brushing his Grace against her just in the right—
There was a knock at the door.
Brooke jumped. Sam and Dean stood up, guns in hand.
But Castiel was still gazing at her, unmoving. His head tilted. She felt him penetrate her mind, delving deep, and she let him. There were no secrets between them.
I understand, he said.
There was movement in the room. Another person had entered it. Brooke hardly noticed.
You would like it, Castiel said, if I did that to you. It was not even remotely a question, but a statement of fact, for he had gone into the secret places of her mind and shown his light into their corners. That's why you like it when I'm angry, he continued. You want to be controlled, to be told what to do, but by someone you know would never hurt you.
It was a strangely romantic thing to end on for such a sexually charged moment, that he would never hurt her.
"This what you boys do—sit around watching pornos with angels?"
The sound of Samuel's voice was so loud in her ears, it sounded like he'd yelled the words—and she hated him for it. For ruining the moment. For breaking whatever magical thing was happening between her and the angel whose name was tattooed into her skin. She flinched. Her blood was still pounding in her ears, every fiber of her being screaming for Castiel.
He cupped her face in his hands, ignoring everyone around them, and brought his forehead to hers. Later, he said, and that one word held so many unspoken promises that she nearly burst.
She breathed, nodded, and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
###
Going to some creepy place in the middle of the night had cooled Brooke's head off, mostly. She couldn't ditch her feelings completely, though. Being mentally connected to an angel meant that she could think his thoughts and feel his feelings just as well as her own, and Castiel was very good at focusing on two very different things at the same time. Even as he was concentrating on the plan that they had come up with, he was smoldering for her.
Brooke had sort of been in a daze for the last hour, but had managed to retain most of the information that was necessary to what they were doing.
What she wasn't expecting was that one of the demons they were working with was the one that Castiel had thrown into the ring of holy fire back when they'd gone after Lucifer.
And she was staring at Castiel like she wanted to bang his brains out. Or maybe kill him. It was hard to tell. "Remember me, Clarence?" she asked him. "I sure remember you."
Brooke felt rage burning inside her, and felt the Grace in her body respond to it. Castiel grabbed her hand, urging her to calm down. The rage died, and she stood taller with her standing beside him. "Why are we working with these abominations?" he demanded.
The demon woman smiled at him. "Keep talking dirty. It makes my meat suit all dewey."
Brooke wanted to stab her in the face. Castiel squeezed her hand harder than was necessary, and the pain brought her back to herself.
After Sam took back the demon blade and killed one of the demons they were supposed to be working with, he warned them all that they were leaving in an hour.
The demon woman began to walk away, then stopped and stared at Castiel like she definitely wanted to bang his brains out.
Brooke felt the Grace in her blood scream, her vision going white. She stepped between the bitch and her angel, ready to kill her.
BROOKE!
His voice, so powerful in her mind, overwhelmed her own emotions and settled the Grace within her. When she could see again, she noticed that the demon was staring at her with something like surprise, as if she hadn't realized that Brooke was even there. Or maybe surprise at the strength of her anger. It was hard to tell. It was hard to tell anything in that moment.
Castiel stood behind her and his presence loomed at her back like flames about to touch her skin.
Sam said we leave in an hour, he told her.
And? she demanded, her mind too scattered to think clearly.
Is your car back at the warehouse?
Yes, she snapped.
He gripped her shoulder and they were standing beside her car, in the dark. Before she could even ask him what they were doing he had spun her around and slammed her against the car. He kissed her, breathing heavily in the small pauses when he pulled away from her. He was tearing at her clothes, at his own, his eyes glowing, his entire body vibrating like he was about to explode.
She shoved the coat off his shoulders and he tore it the rest of the way off, flinging it away. He pulled the suit jacket off of himself and balled it up before throwing it away onto the ground beside his coat. Then he tore at his shirt and the buttons exploded. She touched his arm and it was like fire.
Before she even knew what had happened, he had gotten most of her clothes off of her and was pushing her down into the back seat of her car.
"Cass!" she yelled, remembering all of a sudden. She placed a restraining hand on his chest.
He stared at her.
"Condom," she said.
He continued to stare at her for a moment, then he disappeared. He reappeared again two seconds later, over the top of her, holding a full box of condoms.
She almost laughed. "Did you just rob a store?"
"Yes," he said, his voice a growl. He got out of the car long enough to tear off his pants and take a condom from the box, and then he crawled over the top of her again. He hovered the condom in front of her face. "Put it on," he ordered, his eyes flaring. "Angel Whore."
She stared at him for a moment, shock etched into her face. She felt him almost break, almost soften for her, to let her know that he would never hurt her, that what he had just called her had been in the heat of the moment, but she yanked the condom from his hand before he had the chance. She opened it and reached down with her fingers.
He closed his eyes at her touch, breathing shakily.
The moment she had put it on him and her arm was clear of him, he entered her. She cried out and wrapped her arms around him.
This sex was not like the first time. This sex was not really about love. This was about releasing a year's worth of stress and tension. Castiel kissed her, but roughly, and she responded by biting his lip. He growled and tangled his fingers into her hair, down at the roots, gripping tightly, and pulled her head back. She dug her nails into his back.
Hold onto me, he told her.
She wrapped her arms tighter around him and felt the whole world shift and twirl. She squeezed her eyes shut, but a moment later, the feeling had stopped. A little dizzy, she opened her eyes to see that he had teleported them, still in the car, so that she was sitting astride him. She stared at him, momentarily brought out of whatever animalistic moment they had been in. That felt weird, she said, and almost smiled.
He grabbed her hips and thrust up hard inside her. She cried out. What does this feel like? he asked.
She did not respond.
He continued to move, and simultaneously twisted himself through her mind, weaving like a snake. What does it feel like? he repeated, though he knew that she could not respond. She was long past the point of coherent thought.
The air around them began to tremble, to vibrate, to shimmer like a mirage, like heat coming off the pavement. It tightened, constricting them. Brooke's breathing became shallow and fast. She stared at Castiel, saw the sweat glistening on his face, his chest.
Thunder crashed above their heads, outside the car, and she was deafened by the sound of it, and the sound of the rain pounding down onto the roof. She knew what was coming. She could feel the tightening in her own body, at her core. She met Castiel's eyes, his eyes that were very blue in every flash of lightning that lit up the inside of the car. His eyes that begged for release.
Let go, she said.
He threw his head back against the seat and let out something almost like a scream, and the air exploded outward from his body. The windows held—much to her surprise—but the car shook as if stuck in an earthquake. Brooke fell against him, riding the wave of her own release, her ears ringing, her vision blanking…
She came to, shaky and exhausted, but completely satisfied. Happier than she'd been in a long time. She sat up in his lap, her head buzzing pleasantly, and smiled at him, a big, sloppy smile.
He didn't exactly smile back at her, because he almost never smiled, but the corners of his mouth lifted just a little, and his eyes were twinkling.
"We should have done that a long time ago," Brooke murmured. "Would have saved us a lot of irritation."
"Yes," he agreed.
"You called me a whore," she said.
"I'd apologize, but you… seemed to like it."
She smiled. "I did like it, because you said it." She pulled back a little, gazing at him. "But what made you? It was quite a bold move, going into dirty talk like that."
"I learned it from the pizza man," he said.