The Human Lie Detector.
Dean's eyes nearly bugged out of his head when there was a knock at the door. He pulled his gun to the ready and ran to the door praying it would be Sam, looking through the peephole.
Castiel's head tilted in curiosity when Dean shot him an odd expression before stowing his gun in the back of his pants and opening the door.
When Dean opened the door the sheriff was standing there, looking utterly unamused, one hand gripping tightly at the bicep of a goofy-smile-wearing Sam Winchester.
"This belong to you?" the sheriff questioned dryly, already knowing the answer.
"Uh, yes sir. What... happened?" Dean asked cautiously, trying to communicate with Sam through eyes alone. Unfortunately his brother was far too occupied with his bag of Fritos to do anything but smile back vapidly.
"I'd say he caught a case of the stupid. Appears to be an epidemic," the sheriff stated unfazed, and ushered Sam inside.
Sam passed by Dean, passed by Cas with an upbeat Hey Cas! and immediately headed toward the mini-fridge and started rooting around.
The Sheriff took notice of Castiel, examining him with that long-time policeman's look of, there's somethin' off about you. Cas merely stared back, his stoic confidence evident, and apparently something the sheriff could appreciate. He left Cas be and instead turned to Dean, "I thought you FBI guys were all tight-asses." The sheriff turned his gaze to Sam, watching critically as the gigantic man rooted around in the tiny fridge. He no doubt noted Sam's expression - vacant yet somehow still lending itself to amusement. He gave a tired roll of his eyes and concluded, "Guess I was wrong."
He raised his eyebrows and turned on his heel to leave. Sam saluted him absently, grinning at him.
"Thank you, Sheriff," Dean said, "won't happen again."
"Yeah, yeah..." the sheriff gave a careless, dismissive wave of his hand.
Dean closed and deadbolted the door behind him. He turned to Sam with sharp eyes, "Where the Hell have you been?"
"Oh you know. Here. There. A little bit in between," Sam laughed having cracked himself up.
Cas' head tilted to the side as he observed Sam with growing concern.
"Are you high?" Dean demanded angrily. "Of course you are, everybody is. Damn it Sam! You got hit. You're cursed, just like everybody else in this friggin' town." He shook his head in frustration, "You must have let her know you were on to her..." Dean scrambled over to Sam, leaning down in front of him. "Sam, listen to me-"
"Yep," Sam looked at him with glazed-over eyes that tried to focus on Dean.
"Tell me what happened. Cas and I went by the diner not long ago, we saw the girl still there. She got ya, right?"
Sam snorted as he chuckled - a grown man, snort-laughing. Cas literally took a step back. Dean looked over at him as if to ask You heard that right? Sam stuffed an oversized bite from a leftover sandwich into his mouth, and joked a muffled, "Oh, she got to me alright."
Dean rolled his eyes. Great...
Dean and Cas conferred on the task at hand, and despite having one eye on Sam throughout the conversation, were able to quickly come to the conclusion that they would simply have to kidnap Diner Girl when she left after her shift. Sam protested that if either of them hurt her he'd kill them. Castiel had immediately offered to make Sam "less of a problem". Dean assumed that this meant he would put him into a restful sleep for awhile. But Dean, for whatever reason, didn't want to do that. Originally, he felt it wouldn't be right to Sam. Or that Sam might somehow still be helpful, if they could get him to explain how the DemiGod got her hooks into him.
But after twenty minutes of stilted, chaotic conversation, Dean was wishing he'd taken Cas up on the offer.
Sam was like a little kid on a sugar high - only this little kid knows all your deepest darkest secrets and has boundary issues.
Dean had sent Castiel to keep an eye on the waitress while he reeled in his brother. It had been mere minutes once Sam returned before he started lazily ripping Dean and Cas' worlds apart with his hyper-intuitive emotion reading. He'd started telling them things about themselves that neither of them wanted to know. Or rather, that neither of them wanted to hear out loud.
And Dean was instantly panicking knowing at any second Sam would would drop the A-bomb of truths and tell Cas that Dean was... Dean was...
In love with Cas.
Yeah...
Wait, are we actually agreeing on this?
Shut up.
Dean may have come to terms with being head over heels with the Sheldon Cooper of Heaven, but he was nowhere near ready for anyone else to know that. Least of all, the angel himself.
He didn't feel like getting smote today.
So he gave Cas the first shift watching Diner Girl. And the fact that Cas accepted the mission all too willingly told Dean that Cas was just as extremely uncomfortable with Sam's new receptiveness. Especially after Sam had dropped a hand heavily on Cas' shoulder and expressed that he too knew all about being angry at your father. Cas' eyes flared and Dean jumped in to give Cas an excuse to leave before he mojo'd Sam into a volcano or something.
Dean would have just left Sam there alone and gone with Castiel, which is frankly where he'd rather be, but Sam had made it all too clear that if he were left alone he would get bored and wreak havoc. So Dean decided to let Cas handle Diner Girl alone. He could more than handle it.
As soon as Castiel was gone, Sam just wouldn't shut up. It was an endless inundation of I can see how you feel Dean, and I love you too, Dean and You are so emotionally stunted Dean, and You're such a softy Dean and Let me have more snacks Dean. But when Sam started talking about love, Dean freaked.
"Sam, just because you're high doesn't mean you get what's going on inside my head so shut up!"
"Of course I get it! I know-"
"You don't know crap!"
"I know you want to be in love."
The way he said it, so calm, so certain, had Dean at a loss for words. That wasn't what he was expecting Sam to say. Dean simply stood there, looking away from Sam, torn between shoving a sock in his brother's mouth and asking him to go ahead and say it, tell him how he really felt.
Might be easier that way.
But as it turned out, he didn't have to ask. Sam couldn't have been stopped, probably not even by the sock. He continued confidently, "You're terrified because you thought you'd be able to have that love with Lisa, but as hard as you tried, you just didn't. Once you were with her you realized what you felt was just an illusion. Because it wasn't... enough. And now you're afraid that it never will be. Maybe cause of this job. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe you weren't enough. You think you're damaged. And this thing you're so desperate to feel, you're afraid maybe you never will. Maybe it's just never gonna happen for you. Or, the most terrifying possibility, maybe love isn't real. Because after all those dreams of civilian life with a beautiful woman and a boy you can call your son, the real thing was a let down. That life was a let down. You didn't fit there. And you feel like an asshole for it. Like you're a freak. Cause you should've been happy. But you weren't. Maybe you loved Lisa. But it wasn't the cosmic, be and and end all, lives forever kind of love you secretly wished you were capable of."
Sam pried open a package of cookies and chewed thoughtfully, mulling it all over, while Dean stood steaming and paralyzed. Finally Sam gave an ironic little laugh, "The weirdest part, is that it's obvious you're capable. You're just being too much of a jackass to let it happen."
There was a moment of deafening silence where Dean's entire construct of denial, which held up the pillars of his survival in this world, came crumbling down, and he stared at the man responsible, as he licked the frosting out of the middle of an oreo.
Just like that, it was all spelled out. And Dean felt naked and betrayed and inexplicably hurt.
When he punched Sam in the face the man fell clumsily off his chair, the two halves of the oreo popping into he air. Sam thudded onto the floor, and Dean stood there wide-eyed looking at his handiwork, not sure when he'd made the decision to hit him.
"Ow!" Sam yelled looking at Dean with an unrestrained what the fuck? expression.
Dean leaned over, getting in his brother's face, "Now you listen to me... Just because you think you know this stuff does not mean you get to vomit it all over people! You do that to me again I swear I will pop you in the face so hard you won't wake up for a week. People aren't supposed to know this crap about each other! You aren't supposed to have to hear this crap about yourself!"
Dean stopped short, seeming to realize that he'd said more than he meant to.
Sam simply looked at Dean quizzically and shook his head. "It must be really hard sifting through all that denial all the time."
Dean's face blushed red and his hands clenched, he was on the verge of proving his point with that promised pop to the face.
"This anger problem, this is what comes from shoving all that stuff down without dealing with it. I've been telling you. Again and again I said it." He shook his head, an obvious I told you so look plastered all over his face. "You're like a volcano... like a little kid's science project," Sam laughed. "Mount Dean! I just added some vinegar to your baking soda, and pew-shhh!" Sam made fake explosion sounds and Dean just couldn't take any more.
"That's it..." He grabbed his coat and yelled more than prayed for Cas, but the angel appeared neraly immediately.
"Changing of the guard buddy, you're up with the idiot. I'll go watch Diner Girl." He clapped his hand on Cas' shoulder as the angel's eyes pleaded with Dean not to leave him with Sam. Dean was halfway out the door when he heard his brother's voice-
"Yeah, go get 'em buddy!" Sam mocked from where he was now lying under the table, relaxed and drunk.
Dean froze, flushed red and stormed out. He knew leaving Sam alone with Cas was probably a questionable idea, but it would be more dangerous for Sam if Dean stayed in there himself. He'd already punched the guy once. Dean hoped Cas would tune Sam out if he got too personal, but rationally he knew Cas would probably be tempted to silence Sam by any means necessary once he struck the first nerve.
It was a blissfully honesty-free two hours before Dean got the rescue me phone call from Castiel. Frankly, given Cas' short supply of patience with stupidity Dean was impressed he lasted that long. But still, there was something in his voice. He sounded off somehow. Dean assumed Sam had cut him down to the bone.
Dean had been stationed outside the diner, watching Diner Girl when he got the call. As he pulled away down the street, he began imagining what Sam might be saying to Cas, the things his brother might know about his angel now that even he didn't know... In a way, Dean was jealous. He wished he could see inside Castiel's head, just once; know him better than anyone.
When Castiel called Dean figured Diner Girl would hold - she'd been going about her regular work schedule, maybe to maximize the number of people she came in contact with, and thus, maximizing number of victims. Maybe to seem normal. Either way, Dean doubted she would up and change her gameplan now.
Dean was anxious to get back anyway. Part of him was terrified that Sam had told Cas the truth about his little secret. And Dean could not have that.
Why not? You know how you feel jackass. Just tell Cas the truth. Or even better, let Sam do it so you don't have to.
Way to man-up Dean.
Dean shook his head. He'd come to terms with his own feelings, sure. But he wasn't gonna put that on Cas. Poor Cas, who was already such an outcast. Dean didn't want to do anything else to further estrange him from Heaven, or to ruin their perpetually tense friendship. And admitting the depths of his feelings for the angel, and then having Cas say Dean, you are an abomination to Heaven. Or Dean, I am incapable of reciprocating. Or even, Dean, I don't understand... you're gay? Any of that would kill him. He'd never felt quite like this before, despite his flings in the past. But as painful as things were for Dean now, in this limbo, they were both better off being oblivious than having the truth come out and everything being ruined.
That would be the absolute worst. He would not let that happen.
As Dean pulled into the motel's parking lot, he was resolved to shut up about it. It was his cross to bear, and it wasn't torturing him as of yet so he could handle this limbo for the time being.
Dean opened the door and stepped into the motel room and before he could even process what he was seeing, a fist collided with his face, and it was lights out.
Just when Dean was certain life couldn't get any weirder...
There he was standing in the motel room with Sam drunkenly aiming his own gun at him and Castiel in the corner, trapped in a ring of Holy Fire and looking rather distraught about it.
Distraught looks good on him...
Now? Really? Shut up!
Dean leveled and irritated and exhausted look at his brother, "Sam... what the Hell is going on?"
"I'm executing a friggin' brilliant plan, that's what's going on." He rolled his eyes and wavered on his feet. When he looked at Dean again, he winced as he took in the bruise darkening at his eye. "For the record though, I did not mean to knock you out." His eyes were sincere, if not completely glazed over. And then, suddenly, he broke into a ridiculous grin, barely holding in a laugh. "You went down hard." He laughed, slapping his hand on his knee.
Dean's face was unamused, his jaw set as if carved in stone. He glanced at Castiel who was looking extremely impatient, and just this side of Heavenly wrathful about it all.
"How did he manage to get you in there?" Dean asked Castiel roughly, more than a little irritated by Castiel's inability not to see such a hoodwink coming from a mile away.
"I overestimated his cognitive impairment," Cas said slow and even, leaving no room for doubt that he was livid.
Dean shook his head, "This is ridiculous." He moved toward his duffel to get something to help put out the fire. He didn't expect Sam to re-cock the gun at him with such a sense of urgency. Dean's movement stopped short, "Alright, stop it," he demanded, frustrated.
Sam simply stayed still and gave a mirthless, "Nope."
"Sam what is this even about?"
"You're right," Sam nodded, "let's just get right to it." Sam took a deep breath, collected his thoughts and said, "No one's going anywhere, no one's leaving this room alive...
unless you kiss Castiel."
Silence. Utter, ear-ringing, silence. It was as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.
Dean felt his stomach flip and his face blush immediately, his throat went dry and empty of any response, his eyes went wide. He simply stared at his brother and, very pointedly, did not look at Castiel. He even turned away from him a little. He was about to proffer some feigned shock and confusion but Sam beat him to words.
"Right on the face," Sam clarified after the minute or so of baffled silence.
It was quiet again, oppressively so - uncomfortable in every way.
And then, of course, in true Dean fashion, there was an uproar. He screamed like a man truly at the end of his rope, "What the Hell is wrong with you! You don't just ask a man to kiss another man on the face! You don't wave a gun around at your own brother and demand two guys to -to - to - you know! You're a friggin' dick and I don't know what you're trying to do here, but -"
"Dean!" Sam interrupted, taking a step forward and leveling the gun with Dean's face, "I'm not asking. This isn't an argument. You're gonna do this, or else."
"Sam, are you insane? I'm not gonna kiss him."
"Do it, or I'll shoot ya."
"You're not gonna shoot me -"
A shot rang out, grazing Dean's shoulder. He clutched the now-bleeding but mostly harmless bullet scrape, staring up at his brother with wide eyes. "Jesus Sam..."
Sam just shrugged.
"You could've killed me!"
"Still might." He pointed the gun at Dean's head and Dean put his hands up placatingly, one of them glistening with red.
"Sam, this is the curse talking. You don't actually want -"
"You know my demands. Now go on!"
Dean didn't move. He had that familiar stubborn look, and Sam knew he would take the bullet rather than loose his pride. But he was prepared for the denial, for the utter rejection of his demand. Of course he was ready, who knew Dean better than him?
Sam shrugged as if to say, too bad. He bent down, picking up the jug of Holy Oil that was sitting on the floor just behind him and took a step towards Castiel, pulling Dean's lighter out of his own pocket. "Sorry Cas," Sam offered, moving as if he were preparing to throw the Holy Oil onto the angel.
Cas looked baffled momentarily but immediately on guard. He backed up as much as he could, fists clenching, nostrils flaring and jaw set into a hard line.
"Woah, woah - what're you doing!" Dean stepped forward, panic evident on his face.
"I told you Dean! No one leaves here alive unless my demand is met! I will fry him up like Holy bacon!" Sam was quite proud of this performance if he did say so himself. Dean looked absolutely mortified, as if he was worried Sam was serious. Sam was just pleased it seemed Dean didn't see right through the deception.
In the back of Sam's mind he tried to remind himself to tell Dean later that he was, in fact, bluffing.
Dean was utterly shocked - Sam seemed sickeningly sincere. Cas' eyes shot to Dean's, hyper-focused in that moment, standing as if ready for a fight. He was going to follow Dean's lead, live or die by his next words. Dean straightened up his back, already knowing even through his stubbornness what his decision would be.
His jaw flexed in anger and embarrassment. "Fine," he said stiffly. Castiel's eyes burned into him and Dean tried not to notice it, or how big and blue they shined in the firelight.
Dean hoped that maybe he could trick Sam somehow, since the guy was essentially a burn-out at this point. "Just let him out of the fire and I'll do it."
"Yeah right, Dean. I'm cursed, I'm not an idiot!" He shook his head, "No, you get in."
"I can't-"
"You're human, jackass, you'll be fine. Just try not to stand in it, genius."
"You're a dick!"
"Dean, I'm only asking one more time. Get in that ring of fire, and kiss that Angel of the Lord!"
And something in his slightly glazed-over eyes and relaxed hold on the gun had Dean worried Sam was seriously not gonna give up until the demands were met.
"Fine! I'm going!" Dean headed slowly toward the fire, toward Castiel, as if he was walking the plank. "You are demented right now," he bit angrily at his brother.
Again, Sam just shrugged.
Dean got to the edge of the fire and looked at Castiel. The way his face was lit by the flames made him look...exquisite. His eyes were wide and nervous despite the strong set of his jaw. Dean swallowed hard, trying to work up the courage. Castiel glanced behind himself, checking how much room he had between himself and the holy fire before stepping back to give Dean room to join him.
Dean hopped over the flame easily, nearly toppling over but steadying himself just in time. Cas' hands had come up to catch him, but stopped just short of making contact.
The two were nearly pressed chest to chest, given that the circle was barely big enough for the both of them. Dean could feel the heat from the flames pressing at the backs of his legs.
Dean had thought his usual Cas-related heart palpitations were bad, but this was downright painful. He felt the thumping in every major artery in his body, and his hands shook despite his clenched fists. Cas' eyes slid to Dean's chest, resting there for an eternity before coming slowly back up to his eyes.
They were lost there, Cas and Dean. The fire, the gun-brandishing idiot, the motel, the sordid past... it all just kind of faded into black. And all that was left was a righteous man and a tarnished angel and the over-heated air between them. Everything else disappeared, unimportant.
"Let's goooo," Sam interrupted stupidly, causing Dean to jump a little. He cursed under his breath and Cas looked down at his shoes, a sudden blush on his cheeks.
"Sorry about this, Cas," Dean offered with a smile. It was attempt at his usual devil-may-care smirk, but it came out a nervous, unfamiliar thing.
Cas nodded curtly, keeping his game-face on.
They both looked at Sam briefly, and he waved the gun expectantly as if to ask what was taking so long.
Dean turned to Cas, catching his eyes for a split-second before having to look away. Those debilitating blue eyes, he felt like they were looking straight through him and he was desperate not to lose his nerve. He didn't meet the angel's eyes again as he leaned down, his heart in his throat and his breath stuck there too, and pressed his lips to Castiel's.
It was soft, barely a touch at all, as if they were afraid what true contact would do. It was innocent, in its stillness. But Dean's heart did summersaults in his body, rioting against his ribcage as his brain strained desperately to feel whether or not Cas was kissing him back. His brain panicked, trying to commit the sensation to memory.
Dean noticed Cas' lips were soft, but rough just the same. Kind of like the guy himself. Dean had never been so nervous to kiss anyone, not even on his first kiss ever. He'd been mostly excited then, an eager boy, but he was never worried - there was nothing really on the line. He never imagined kissing Castiel would feel so right...
That put everything on the line.
He pulled away to look into Cas' eyes, his own opening slowly, as if in a daze. He wanted to see if Castiel was having the same internal uproar. But Cas' eyes were downturned, hiding his emotion, until they darted nervously over to Sam.
Right, Dean remembered, Sam...
This kiss was just a necessity to keep his brother from killing them all. That was it. It's not real... Dean pulled away too quickly, pulling himself from the terrifying edge, not allowing himself to give in. He took a deep breath, not looking at Cas in the eyes. He tried desperately to fix the mask that was Dean Winchester in place before he spoke and really faced Sam and Cas.
He announced, in his best unaffected voice, "There. Done."
"...Seriously?" Sam asked loudly, making a ridiculous disappointed face. "That's it?"
Dean's nerves were fried, he just couldn't take anymore. His brother must have know how much this was killing him. He yelled back, "I did what you said Sam, now let him out of the fire! And put the friggin' gun down before you get somebody killed!"
"Oh come on Dean, kiss him for real!"
"Sam-"
"For God's sake, just do it!" Sam cried desperately.
"Sam, I can't-" Dean cut himself off.
"Kiss him for real!"
Dean started to answer, but any argument he may have had was cut off by a harsh grip on the back of his neck and the front of his shirt, whirling him around and pulling him down - to Castiel.
Their lips crashed together and while Dean was stunned-still at first, with Castiel's lips on his and the angel's fingers wound in the front of his flannel shirt, his hand gripping tight at the back of Dean's neck, skin to skin, it was too much for Dean to fight.
Before he knew what he was doing his fingers were tangled in Castiels hair, gripping roughly, his other hand clutching at Cas' waist.
The levee broke, and finally, Dean didn't fight it.
His hand gripped the back of Castiel's skull, wanting the angel's lips never to part from his own. Dean's hips leaned into Castiel's, and his lips and tongue assaulted the angel's mouth with the expertise of a practiced lover - but nothing about it was for show. Nothing about it was to prove to Castiel he was sexy, or to impress him. It was pure passion, the passion of a man in love.
The hand Cas had gripping Dean's shirt kept pulling and tugging, as if he couldn't get Dean close enough. Meanwhile his other hand roamed everywhere it could reach on Dean's body, as if he couldn't feel enough of Dean at once.
And it did roam everywhere.
Cas didn't do this kind of thing, well, ever. It was obvious he did not know first-kiss protocol. There are usually hesitations - can I touch you there yet? Should I wait before I get carried away? How careful do I need to be?
There was a natural progression to the thing, a build.
Castiel didn't have these boundaries. There was no build, it was a full assault from minute one. He didn't bother to consider social protocol, because he didn't know it. And that was a-ok with Dean. Because he'd never had someone kiss him so eagerly, that barely thirty seconds into the first kiss they had their hands grabbing all over him; that they rubbed that hard into his back, or pulled so rough at his shoulders and his waist, or that their fingers wrenched into his hair - oh, wow - and gripped his ass - Oh fuck - and down over his thigh - Oh fuck fuck fuck...
Dean groaned into Cas' mouth and felt Cas clutch at the thigh of his jeans in response.
Across the room, forgotten Sam observed calmly, utterly unaffected, very nearly disinterested all together. He took a deep, relieved breath. "Fiiiiinally!" He threw the gun down onto Dean's bed before collapsing into his own.
Cas and Dean parted at the sound of Sam's voice, snapping them back into reality. Their lips red and wet, their breath coming fast, they looked over at Sam, now softly snoring on the bed. Obviously, they'd forgotten all about him.
They looked at each other. There was a silent moment where they simply examined their effect on each other in wonder - flushed cheeks, swollen lips, darkened eyes...
Feeling the weight of the silence suddenly, Dean joked, his voice like sandpaper, "Crisis averted?" But he didn't let go of Cas. "You learn that from the Pizza Man?" he joked again, reflexively.
Cas didn't let go of Dean either. It didn't go unnoticed. "No," he answered awkwardly, "I just... did it." Cas frowned, "Some sort of... instinct?" he asked, guessing.
Dean smiled. He was shocked to see Cas smile back. Like a full, bright, so happy I could die grin. His already thumping heart gave a whirl and Cas looked at Dean's chest, placing his hand over Dean's heart. Dean sighed into that touch, leaning into Cas' palm like he had so wanted to before.
"Coffee?" Cas wondered, remembering Dean's former excuse for the thumping.
"Um..." Dean, I know what you're thinking, do not tell him the truth! You're gonna embarrass yourself. He'll know how much you... how much you...
Oh Fuck it.
Dean cleared his throat, looking down, "No, it's not the coffee. It's never been the coffee Cas. It's..." Dean's voice warbled despite his attempt to control it. He looked down at his shoes and let 'er rip, "It's you, actually." Dean peaked up through his lashes to see Cas, head tilted at him, questioningly. All of a sudden, Dean was desperate for him to know the truth, "You make my heart do that."
At first Cas' expression was unreadable, and Dean thought maybe he didn't understand. But then Cas looked down to the floor, and tried to hide another smile.
Dean saw it. He may have never been so relieved.
And then Castiel turned his blue eyes on Dean's, fixing him from beneath dark lashes, something dark but humorous in his gaze. And Dean was immobilized under that stare, entirely at Castiel's mercy as the angel ran his palms slowly up Dean's torso, smirking as Dean let out a sudden shaky breath. He slipped one hand over Dean's jaw, pulling him toward his body. And they both knew that when their lips met this time, slow and wet and deep, that it was entirely by choice.
It was a long kiss, nearly obscene with the accompanying exploratory groping and unpracticed touching of lips and lazy open-mouthed playing of tongues.
It was new and right and ultimately difficult to stop once ignited.
And Sam slept through the whole thing.
Thank God.
Thank god indeed!
I hope you liked this chapter. I had fun writing it. I was in a rush to get it posted so I hope you can excuse any errors or bizarre jumps. I give a heartfelt "whoops..." to any that you find.