This is sort of a short chapter just to hold us over since I haven't posted in what feels like a long time. Sorry for the delay! (I feel like I'm saying that a lot lately... that and, "please excuse any mistakes"...) Please excuse any mistakes. (Did you feel that? Deja vu, or a shift in the Matrix?)
Thank you so much for the reviews, you guys make me feel special - like that tiger with the tie-dyed stripes... Or, you know... something like that. But sincerely, thanks so much.
The Post-"Moment" Moment.
Dean was the one to put out the fire.
Literally.
It was over an hour, in that ring of holy fire with Castiel, the backs of his legs getting hotter and hotter, and not in the same way as the rest of his body. He came up for air, a seemingly unstoppable Castiel nipping at his lips, very nearly tempting him back despite his gasping.
Who needs air? Screw air...
Unfortunately the instinct not to suffocate was stronger than his ability to keep their lips and tongues tangled.
He broke away with a slightly embarrassing gasp and leaned back his head, rescuing his mouth from Castiel's pursuit, and finally took in the air he so desperately needed. Dean opened his eyes lazily as Cas started trailing his lips down Dean's neck in a hungry experiment, just brushing skin to skin at first, and then kissing, and then his curiosity peaking, and adding pressure - sucking Dean's skin and scraping his teeth against the area.
Dean's hand clutched in Cas' hair as he stared up at the dingy, water-stained ceiling, barely comprehending how they'd come to this yet still so relieved they had. His eyes burned from the heat and smoke of the ring of flames surrounding them -
and that's when his brain kicked back in.
The rational part of him screamed that he'd gotten way off track, that they still had work to do. It reminded him that Cas was actually still somewhat endangered, given his current location.
I'm glad we're sucking face and all, but uh... maybe we put out this Holy fire and capture the big bad monster before we get to third base...?
Dean's brow furrowed. He really didn't want to stop. Really. The sheer volume of relief coursing in his veins, lacing the pleasure of being touched with the joy of being touched by someone he actually cared about, was making him shaky and warm all over.
But Dean knew what had to be done. Damn it. It was one of the few times Dean could remember that stark rationality won over a base desire this strong.
Ultimately he loosened his grip on Cas' hair, a little shocked at himself once he realized how hard he'd been clutching the guy, fingers gripping in his hair, keeping the angel's lips firmly sealed to his throat.
It was oddly desperate for him. He wasn't usually someone who got carried away - in fact he prided himself on being the one who got others carried away. it was a strange reversal, but he couldn't think too much about it right then.
He was also surprised by the pang of utter regret he felt when Cas' lips left his skin. But it convinced him all the more that they had to stop, they needed to stop. Now.
He leaned down and shared one last longing kiss with Castiel, in which the angel wrapped his arms tightly, almost too tight, around Dean's waist, hands gripping bruisingly tight at Dean's hips, his thumbs dipping into the hollow of his hipbones so hard that Dean nearly winced. He bit back the urge to groan into Castiel's mouth.
It was a kiss that was vastly different from all the others (a fact which amazed Castiel to no end) in that it was laced with a feeling of longing that was more complex and emotional than the strictly passionate physical frenzy they'd been indulging in. It hinted at something deeper, something yet to come - something that would not, could not, be expressed right now.
But it also said The End in a way, putting a period on the end of their escape from reality. With that last kiss, Cas knew playtime was over. And frankly, he was afraid to stop. He felt the tendrils of doubt and fear already creeping in, that if they stopped, they might not be able to start again. He was terrified that now that he'd felt this, he would need it again, and there wouldn't be another situation forcing them together so effectively.
His hands tightened on Dean's hips, and he could feel the man wince, but he couldn't let go. He wanted to never let go.
But he didn't have much choice. Dean pulled back and Castiel let him.
And then Dean gave him a lazy wink and a sinful smirk before hopping out of the fire and setting to putting it out - which proved more difficult than he'd anticipated.
Apparently, Holy Oil burns hell-fire hot.
When the fire was out, Cas leant down and pressed two fingers to the carpet, removing the charred, circular evidence of the trap that lead them to their fist kiss.
"Thanks," Dean smiled.
Cas nodded curtly, and smiled back.
Once Cas was freed, he and Dean attempted to focus on the case. It was proving difficult because they were on each other's minds now, more than ever. And they didn't say anything, but the staring was unabashed. Not even thinly coy. Just blatant. And Dean found himself smiling at Cas when he would turn mid-sentence to find the angel standing a little closer than he had been a moment before, as if physically incapable of keeping his distance, and gazing at Dean with dark eyes, like he was imagining their time in the holy fire had never ended.
It gave Dean a powerful kind of satisfaction, addictive and bizarrely strong, to see the the effect he had on Cas, how he could wind him up so.
Dean realized that they were staring again, gravitating toward each other, his heart thumping hard in his chest, when they were interrupted by a heavy shifting accompanied by a moose-like groan coming from the bed. Cas and Dean looked away from each other and toward the tallest Winchester, who was displacing the cheap duvet, stretching like a lazy labrador.
Dean moved slowly to the end of the bed, anger settling on his face so quickly. "Morning Sam," he greeted roughly, towering over his brother.
Sure, he was glad to have finally gotten somewhere with Cas, but that didn't mean Sam was off the hook - Dean was pissed.
"Hey," Sam responded groggily, rubbing his eye. He looked back and forth between Cas and Dean and it all came back to him. "Oh, hey - so, how'd it go? You guys gay yet?"
Dean turned beet red, fuming. Cas simply tilted his head.
"I guess you were gay to begin with," Sam muttered. "You didn't do it with me in the room, did you?"
"Alright listen jackass, if I have to stand one more day of you like this, I swear to God I'll kill you myself."
"That's a lie," Sam said easily, looking relaxed and refreshed after his little catnap.
His ease had Dean's blood boiling, "I'm at the end of my rope with this case and I will beat the crap out of you. Now tell me if that's a lie."
Sam squinted at him for a long moment, "Mm, no..."
"We are going to kidnap Diner Girl, bring her here, and perform the ritual, and if that doesn't work, or she fights us... you know what we have to do. So I need to know that you're on board here."
"No, I'm not on board! It's not her! And even if it was, you're not gonna kill her Dean-"
"Sam-"
"Over my dead body! It's not her Dean, I'm telling you! I know it! And I had a good reason too - I just... forgot..." Sam scratched his head, looking around the room while he tried to remember the reason he was so certain of her innocence.
"Sam, it could still be her. All evidence points in her direction so I'm sorry, but we're not gonna be looking the other way on this just because you like the way she looks in her uniform!"
"Hey! It's not like that!"
"Of course it's not...look who I'm talking to." Dean sighed heavily. "Either we're gonna tie you up in this room, or you're coming with us."
Sam pouted for a moment, weighing his options before giving a bratty, "Fine."
"Fine. Let's go," Dean motioned for him to hurry up so they could get the show on the road. Sam got up, but headed in the wrong direction. "Where the Hell are you going? I thought I made this pretty clear. We're leaving-"
"Ok, well can I at least pee in peace, before we go kidnap the girl of my dreams?"
Dean motioned to the bathroom, giving Sam the go ahead.
Sam stomped in and slammed the door behind him.
In the wake of the riot that was Sam, Dean and Cas were feeling rather weary. The room was all the more quiet now, with the tallest Winchester no longer in it and somehow it made the fact that they were both thinking about each other painfully obvious.
"You uh... ready to do this?" Dean asked, out of desperation to break the silence. Cas' eyes met his and Dean immediately remembered Cas' little dominance display in the park and corrected himself, "Of course you are. You can handle this."
Dean looked down at his boots a long moment, the flattery tasting strange in his mouth, sweet somehow. He could feel those eyes on him. When he looked up again he saw the ghost of a smile on Castiel's lips. That was when Dean realized he didn't really specify what he'd been talking about - the demigod, or them.
But he didn't bother saying anything else. All of a sudden the quiet was... comfortable. They smiled at each other.
Until Castiel's brow furrowed for a moment in intense concentration, before he looked at Dean with wide eyes, the expression stopping Dean cold. Suddenly, was a blinding flash of white light and Castiel was gone.
Dean's head swung this way and that, frantically looking for him, "Cas!"
"Dean, help!" Sam yelled from the bathroom.
Dean immediately ran toward Sam, storming in to see his brother doubled over. He rushed straight to him, noticing a moment too late, the angel banishing sigil drawn onto the mirror, still dripping red drops into the sink. If he'd hesitated only a moment before rushing up to Sam he might have seen it coming - Sam straightened up in a flash, knocking Dean's legs out from under him. Dean slammed down to the tile floor. Sam grabbed Dean roughly and slapped the cuffs on his wrists, maneuvering them around a pipe just before they clicked securely around his brother's skin.
Dean shook his head, trying to get his wits about him after the hard fall. He saw Sam, blurry, crouch down in front of him with a sympathetic furrow of his brow.
"Dean, I am really sorry," he said as if he truly meant it. "I have to do this. I have to. Because I really like her. DemiGod or not - though, I think not..." he said, his eyes far away as if remembering his last interaction with her.
"Sam!" Dean interrupted his brother's reverie, pissed as all Hell. "You better let me out right now or I swear-"
"You know I'm not going to," Sam rolled his eyes.
Dean seethed, "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you..."
Sam straightened up and gave a high whew and shook his head. "That's a loaded statement."
Dean didn't know what to say about that.
"Don't worry, I won't let her kill anyone," Sam assured with a dopey, lop-sided smile.
He walked out, despite Dean's screaming after him, and Dean could hear the cheap but heavy dresser scraping across the floor until it came to rest in front of the bathroom door, effectively trapping him into the tiny room even more thoroughly.
"Bye!" Sam yelled from the other side of the door, as if he were a kid leaving for school in the morning.
Dean could hear Sam's quick footsteps retreating and then the closing of the motel door. He took stock of his surroundings, his situation.
Dean's head thunked against the cold tile.
I guess that wasn't that short...
I hope to have the next one up sooner rather than later - I'm clacking away on the keyboard right now, getting to it! I swear!
I also happen to be eating an apple and lighting a candle... but don't let that convince you I'm not so on top of this! I am nothing if not a multi-tasker!