Day 12: Making out
Title: Angel or General Tso's Chicken?
Summary: Dean had only the purest intentions when Cas asked him for a favor. It wasn't his fault that it got a little out of control...
Notes: Sorry this is a little late, Guys! I'd spent most of the day working on my other story "The Things I Can't Say Are The Things You Need To Hear" and only completed this just a few minutes ago. But better late than never, right? Important: This is set in season five (like most of my oneshots since that's my favorite season...).
"I've done some real crazy shit in my day, Cas," Dean said with a grin, coating his hands in shaving cream and gently applying it to Castiel's bearded face and jaw, "But shaving an angel is definitely in my top five."
"I apologize for the inconvenience," Cas said lowly, his averted gaze the only tell-tale sign of his true embarrassment, "It has come to my attention that razorblades have the annoying habit of easily slicing through human skin."
Dean arched an eyebrow at him, picking up the razor and running it through water, "You speakin' from experience, or—?"
"Dean."
"Okay, okay," Dean chuckled, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, "You're getting bossy, aren't you?"
"Every human has their flaws." Cas replied with a hollow smile, a certain edge of bitterness staining his voice that made Dean's heart clench in guilt. Even though Cas would never say it aloud, Dean knew it was his fault that Cas was like this. If it weren't for him and his stupid free will philosophy, Castiel would still be living it up in Heaven with all the other dicks with wings. And while that didn't really sound that much of a picnic (because in his experience, angels weren't really the most fun people to be around; hell, back in the early days, even Castiel's brief visits felt just like a toothache), he knew it sure as hell was a lot safer than hanging out with the two brothers that just about everyone wanted to kill and/or wear to the prom. That, and he'd be able to keep his angel juice.
"Dean, don't blame yourself," Castiel's deep, steady voice broke Dean out of his usual self-loathing reverie, "It was my choice to rebel." He paused as their eyes locked, "And I still believe it was the right one to make."
Dean swallowed hard and averted his gaze, deciding to just focus on the task at hand instead of getting lost in those intense blue eyes and potentially doing something he'd regret later. Though that feat was proving more difficult than expected when he was close enough to the angel to feel his hot breath on the side of his cheek and inhale the tantalizing scent of soap and ocean spray that clung to the angel's vessel. Cas had always smelled ethereal in some form; it was relieving that some things—even the most trivial things like a falling angel's unearthly scent—never changed. In the dog days of the Apocalypse, familiarity was hard to come by.
"It's a lot quicker to go against the grain," Dean murmured, dragging the first stroke of the razor against Castiel's strong jaw, "And make sure to apply only a little pressure, okay? If you use too much force, you'll get nicked by the blade."
"It's...odd to learn something from a mere human." Castiel said, a corner of his lip curling upward in amusement.
"You know, you really shouldn't sass a guy who has a blade to your throat." Dean replied with a smirk, his heart skipping a beat when the angel chuckled.
They fell into silent after that, Castiel tipping his head back to stare at the cracked ceiling of their latest motel's "clean" bathroom (he wasn't joking; when they had checked in, the woman at the desk literally used air quotes when she described the motel's stellar features as she handed him and Sam the room key) and Dean trying to keep his attention on not jacking up his friend's face instead of wondering what that stubble would feel like against his cheek (so basically, Dean was relieved Cas had lost the ability to read people's minds because nowadays, his mind rarely left the gutter; especially around a certain uptight Angel of The Lord). He was halfway done when Castiel spoke, "You know, the concept of falling from grace used to truly disgust me."
Dean arched his brow, saying slowly, "...Okay. Well, if we're swappin' secrets here, the idea of castration doesn't really make me hot in the pants either."
A corner of Castiel's mouth twitched as he rolled his eyes, "Anyway...as I was saying, I used to believe only arrogant, self-serving angels would betray their own kind in order to satisfy their own selfish desires."
"Cas, is there a point to this soap box speech?" Dean asked, cocking a curious eyebrow.
"I was wrong, Dean," Cas declared softly, the atmosphere in the room suddenly growing thick with tension at his sober tone, "Angels don't just fall for their own petty needs. They fall for many different reasons; like a cause, or a principle, or..." He cleared his throat, the action causing Dean's wrist to almost slip, "Or a certain person they have grown to, um...love..."
Dean's hand stilled in mid-stroke, eyes immediately snapping upward to lock with Cas' enigmatic gaze, "Cas, I'm not sure if I'm underst—" He was interrupted by Castiel cupping his face and guiding their lips together. In surprise (he tried to tell himself it was in horror, but even he wasn't dumb enough to believe that), Dean dropped the razor, the sound of it hitting the ground completely swallowed up by their shared moan. He felt the remnants of the shaving cream smear on his jaw as he angled the angel's head and gently opened up his mouth, dipping his tongue into the other's mouth and tasting the man that he had tried so hard to convince himself he didn't want. Cas moaned into the kiss, his hands fisting in Dean's hair and tugging at the strands insistently. When they had to break apart for air, Dean took advantage of the situation and lifted Castiel up to sit him down on top of the sink counter before tugging at his tie and sealing their lips together again. Castiel gasped as his legs spread purely out of instinct, prompting Dean to slot his body in between the gap.
"Shit Cas..." Dean groaned, ducking down to mouth at the angel's bared throat, "Did you seriously plan to seduce me in a fucking motel bathroom?"
"No," The angel admitted in a groaned, "But it was a pleasant surprise—"
"Dean, I bought—what the fuck?" Sam backed away so fast, it was like he just saw a deranged clown, "Seriously, Dean? An angel? Again?"
"Keep your panties on, Sam, I was just teaching him how to shave." Dean said with an eye roll, as if that excuse could honestly explain their incriminating position and the shaving cream that caked Dean's face.
"Jesus," Sam cursed under his breath, shaking his head as he gripped their take-out food and stalked towards the door, "I'm eating in the car. Come get me when you two finish groping each other in the bathroom like horny teenagers."
"See Cas, you already got two lessons down on being human," Dean said with a dirty grin, waggling his eyebrows at the angel, "One on shaving from me, and one on cock-blocking straight from the king himself!" He motioned to Sam with a laugh, who responded by slamming the door shut behind him.
"...You know, I had thoroughly enjoyed what you were teaching me before Sam rudely interrupted." Cas said almost breathlessly, looking flushed and still totally fuckable.
Dean pretended to contemplate this, even though he wanted to do nothing more than tear the angel's clothes off right then and there, "Hm...Angel or General Tso's chicken? Tough choice..."
Castiel rolled his eyes and decided to shut Dean up with his mouth (...which was a very good decision, if Dean had to say so himself).
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