TAKEN FOR GRANTED
CHAPTER SIX: "CURIOSITY AND CONFUSION
Disclaimer: I own nothing but a horrible connection and my own dirty thoughts.
A/N: Hey, peeps! I know it has been a long while since I posted, and for that, my apologies. Horrible connection problems. This has been done for ages but I've been unable to post for ages! I am crossing my fingers this finally gets to you. I have spent the time proofreading and surprise, this chapter ended up being fifty-two pages, so, I have split this one up into three separate chapter posts-by request. There is a bit of sexual play but, I have done the unthinkable and the chapter is heavy character interaction and dialogue. And of course, angst. I know! What was I thinking? But, no worries, I am already working on angel-hunter naughtiness and once we get all the boys together at the bar, there will be major Sabriel (and some Destiel!) Promise. I will be posting the chapters every few days until done and then next will be lots of kinky sex! I hope to hear from my peeps.
A/N 2: Thanks to all of you who have read, reviewed, favorite and alerted. ;)
Special thanks goes out to ChelseaxQ , (who has been waiting patiently for the new story), Maknatuna, Perry123, and of course, LusciousinPain, who I would not have gotten through the past weeks without her to vent to about all my angsty issues. Thank you girl. MOAOST.
And…since it has been so long since last chapter was posted, I am including the last scene from Chapter 5. Please let me know if it is superfluous and redundant. Thanks. Enjoy.
Previously:
"What the hell were you doing?"
"I do not understan-."
"You know what? Understand this! Don't know what you did to me...used your friggin' mojo or something, but it was fucking-look, I ain't gay and...And just leave me the fuck alone!"
The angel jerked at the hunter's words. He moved as far away from him as he could manage and then slowly raised his eyes from the floor of the car and stared into Dean's eyes briefly. Castiel thought he saw the hunter's eyes widen. The thought was stupid and immature, unaware the Pain and unequivocal certainty that he'd been correct about them dulled his eyes. He looked away and spoke in a whisper.
"Your anger seems to be the only emotion you feel towards me and I know not what I have done to cause your hatred. I am unaware if my previous actions are the cause or just another example of my inadequacy as your guardian-."
"Cas-."
The angel shook his head and held out a hand to stop the words.
"No words are necessary. I believe Samuel is safe at your current domicile. I am certain he is worried because of your absence. I ask that you allow me to transport your 'baby' and yourself to the motel where you can regain your strength. Is this acceptable?"
"Cas, I-."
"Dean, please answer the question."
"Yeah. Should check-."
"Good. Call if you have need of my services."
Dean put out his hand to stop the angel-then he felt that pull. He grabbed at Cas to hold on and the contact caused the angel to focus on the hunter.
"Please do not have fear, I would not endanger you."
Suddenly the wind stopped and he was parked in front of the motel room. He opened his mouth to speak but with a flutter of wings and a soft goodnight, Dean found himself alone in the car.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
NOW...
..."SON OF A BITCH!"
Dean felt his stomach drop at the tone in Cas' voice and the look he'd seen briefly in his eyes. He turned to look at him, to say something...anything, but he was already gone. Damn! What the hell had just happened? One minute he'd been dreaming of a cabin, a bed...Cas. And the next he woke up-on top of the angel-Shit. And then he'd bitched, like some virgin on her way to the nunnery. Well, fuck, what had Cas expected? As Sam would say, Dean was heteronormal-no, heteranoma-fuck. He liked girls; soft curves and long hair and there was nothing soft or curvy about the angel at all.
'And what about when he ganked the monster and he was healing you or earlier, in the car'? What about all the dreams, those long slender fingers and the blue-as-fuck eyes? What about all of that?'
Fucking voice needed to shut the hell up.
'Maybe if you'd man the fuck up, I would.'
Great, now the voice was arguing with him...besides he'd just been cold...cold and freaked about the storm and crashing baby and...and...the voice needed to go the fuck away. Besides, they were friends, it was innocent-.
'Yeah, sure. Seemed to be enjoying it at the time. Moaning and panting didn't sound innocent to me.'
God, that voice was a bitch. He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes, remembering. The Dream. It had been...the cabin in the woods, that bed, the angel. He hadn't wanted it to end. And what about earlier in the car? Hadn't been dreaming then. The angel had done things to him that felt so damn good, he hadn't been able to think straight and that right there? Was new for him. So why? Because of the dreams? And he'd had a few hot ones, they'd escalated over time, one featuring just staring up until the one where he'd come in the motel room and the angel had been-didn't matter. He had to forget about the latest one-throw it into his nice little lock box of wet-dreams-of-Cas-that-would-never-see-the-light-o f-day.
Only problem now was-and it hit him like a lightning bolt-earlier in the car, it hadn't been a dream. Couldn't blame it on anything but what it had been and...Oh. Fucking. Great. He defiled an angel. That made two. God. Was he going for a world record or something? He ran his hands through his hair and wondered what the fuck he was s'posed to do now.
Talk to Cas about it? Uh-uh. No way.
Act as if it never happened? Hmmm.
Slam the angel into a wall and show him...what? That it was just sex. No biggie. Just another meaningless way to get off? That it hadn't meant anything. Except there was one problem with that logic-apparently, it meant something since the thought of slamming Castiel into a wall and pressing against him, touching and sliding and...he groaned as his cock jerked. He was getting hard. Jesus. How was he supposed to deflect this shit if his damn body wouldn't cooperate? Fine, he could admit that it hadn't been...horrible, actually a damn sight better than horrible but he wasn't going there. Nope. Nothing, it hadn't met anything. He groaned as another thought slammed into his brain and this one was not at all pleasant. What if Cas thought it had meant something? The angel was new to human shit, so what if he thought Dean felt the same? Oh, fuck.
Dean banged his head on the steering wheel at his own stupidity. How the hell did he get himself into these messes? Was he going to have to have 'the talk' with Castiel? Same one he had with every girl who deluded herself into thinking Dean was some damn knight in shining armor. Dean was a lot of things; conman, lady-killer, liar, thief and hustler; but he was no knight. This sucked because he was always up front with them about what was going on. He tried to stay away from the ones that wanted more than just a good fuck. His radar was good at spotting the ones out for fun, but not absolute and he hated those conversations. Absolutely hated them. He's always found it easier to skip town. That wouldn't fly with Cas. He always knew where Dean was, what was going on with the hunter and when he was needed. It was cool having an unemotional warrior as a guardian-Dean frowned, unemotional? Cas sure as hell hadn't been unemotional when they'd been involved and as for calm and stoic? 'Bout as far from it as the angel could get. And then when Dean panicked; freaked and yelled. Damn. He was going to have to-he didn't even want to think about it.
Maybe he could get Sammy to explain. The elder hunter snorted, 'yeah, right.' He'd just give him bitch face number nineteen, (deal with it) or number twenty-six, (you seriously expect me to help you?'). Damn. No help there. He had two choices; either he ignored the whole situation or he'd have to grow a pair and explain just what was up. Nothing had to change, right? Which made him wonder just when things had changed. The nightmares, that was when it started happening. He'd forgotten how fucking terrified he'd been of them. They'd been so damn real that during the nightmares, he was convinced being back with Sam; Cas saving him were the dreams and Alistair's torture; the screams and blood were his reality. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, just thinking about them sucked. It's one of the things he didn't have to deal with anymore. Somehow, Cas banished them. The eldest Winchester wondered how much worse off he would have been, (would still be), if Cas hadn't stuck around when he brought him back? He couldn't even contemplate that. It sent a shiver of dread through him. Not sitting at his side, asking if the hunter was all right? Waking up to see the angel looking at him with concern and a small smile no other would have noticed, but Dean had and just him there drove all that away. Especially when he stopped himself repeatedly from asking him to stay until he fell back asleep and then he'd woken up one night screaming...trapped on that rack with two souls-Sammy and his guardian angel-and Castiel had been there-in the dream, bringing Dean slowly out of it and he'd woken and Cas was there. He learned that night that the angel had stayed since the very first nightmare. Ask or not, he'd known and that blew Dean's mind. He'd promised to be there when they came and he had. Every single time. It made the hunter smile slightly-and then he froze-when the fuck had he turned into a girl? He'd dealt with forty damn years of Alistair and what he'd called 'their daily sessions', and when he gets outta there, he needs Cas to hold his damn hand? He didn't need shit. He'd been on his own for a long time and the only things he needed were sex, alcohol and pie. Nothing and no one else.
'Who the fuck are you trying to convince? Anytime, something goes wrong, you call him. When you're bored or want company or feel like crap. And he always, without fail, comes each and every time. No nightmares in weeks and why is that? So, go ahead, deny it as much as you want, but don't lie to yourself. He's part of the family. Sam, Bobby and Cas-.
"Fine! Alright, fine! I get it! Just shut the fuck up! And don't call him that! That's mine! Only I call him-." Dean froze. What was he doing? Yelling at himself about calling Cas...Cas. God. The voice never responded and he furrowed his forehead when he realized that...without Dean's permission, Cas had wormed his way in and the hunter needed...no, wanted, yes...wanted him around. Just to hang out with. That was it. Dean ran a hand through his hair again. He hated thinking. It wasn't his strong suit...or at least that was the impression most people had of him. Brawn, no brain. Sammy and Bobby and his Dad had known, but no one else...until Cas. And the angel got downright bitchy when the eldest hunter played the dumb jock card. Cas had been angry; a pissy angel of the lord was not a good thing. He smiled again. He liked riling him up, loved hearing feathers ruffling and sometimes, late at night, when he turned, he thought he could almost see them. Wishful thinking. The hunter smacked himself in the head, was it even possible for him to stick to one topic. God, he was usually so centered and he had a one track mind, so why the hell did he keep going off track? Back to his original problem...how did he handle this without changing things. He didn't want it to be awkward and if he gave him the talk, it would be. And...what if he did try to clear the air and Christ, Cas told him he loved him and they were soul mates and would be together forever or some stupid shit like that? God, sometimes it was a damn curse to be as hot as he was. He narrowed his eyes when he heard the voice snort-it sounded way too much like Sammy.
What were his choices? He was unwilling to cut ties with Cas, so...what was left? Steamrolling the angel and refusing him the chance to talk about it? Tell him straight out that what had happened meant nothing? Even he knew how cold that sounded. And there was something way wrong with giving Cas the same speech he'd given to all of the other...girls. It was different this time. It was the angel. The others had cried or seemed relieved, (which, what the fuck) and more than a few had slapped him. And if Cas slapped him? Jesus Christ, that shit would hurt.
Fuck this crap was frustrating. He growled loudly inside the car. This was exactly why he didn't get involved with anyone for more than one night. So why was the angel the exception to the rule? They were...what? And wasn't that the twenty million dollar question? Buddies? Pals? Friends? He had no idea. Whatever it was, he wasn't letting this whole thing come between them. He didn't make friends easily, (or ever), and he'd put in too much time humanizing him to start over. So the question was, would it change what they had? It might and he wasn't taking the chance. Making up his mind to do what he did best, he decided to ignore the whole situation. Now, that, sounded like a plan. Cas would get the message, right? Yeah. He liked that. Pretend nothing had happened, because really? It hadn't. Things would continue as they had...normal, easy and uncomplicated. He liked uncomplicated. Things sure as hell weren't uncomplicated now. Dammit! Why had he let Cas get so close and touch and...and what the hell had made the hunter lose control like that? Maybe he reacted out of curiosity? Or fuck, he had no idea. But he'd been stressed. Freaked about almost totaling baby in the storm and he remembered how relieved he'd been when the angel had shown. Growling, that damn voice spoke up again, mocking him. Bitch.
'Uh, I'm you, asshole, so that makes you the bitch. Oh and curiosity?'
"God! Just shut the fuck up!"
Silence. Wonderful blessed silence. Ignoring the voice, he figured it was because Cas was the one who got him out of the pit; figured he couldn't be blamed for reacting the way he did, bound to be a connection. And damn they had connected. He could still feel the angel touching him, his breath hot on the hunter's neck, fingers trailing down; an image of Castiel slamming him into a wall and sliding to his knees and the feel of his wet, warm mouth taking him in, swallowing around-he closed his eyes and slid his hand down his neck, his chest and lower. Rubbing himself through his jeans. It wasn't enough, he wanted...Jesus, he wanted the angel to-he pressed down. Hard.
"God...yes-."
The deep throaty fucked out moan coming from him made him jerk-what the fuck was-Dean jumped out of the car, arranged himself, took a deep breath. Just before heading into the room, he looked around, swearing he could feel Castiel's breath, his smell, his presence. Jesus. He was losing it.
Fucking Angel. Need a drink, lot's of 'em. And a girl. Bad. With that thought, he slammed the car door and headed inside the room.
Castiel stood beside the car, watching the hunter; shielding himself from his charge's sight. Doing as Father requested; keeping his charge safe, unharmed. Staying at his side in case the hunter wanted him. But that was the whole conundrum he found himself in. The hunter had made it perfectly clear that he did not want him. And what about what the angel wanted? He had enjoyed their time together before today. Dean showing him human habits, though he had not experienced the down side of humanity. Pain, confusion, hurt. Now, he had. And he did not like it. There was a vast difference between being needed and being wanted and the truth was the hunter needed him because of his angel 'mojo'. If only he could divorce himself from the human emotions of hurt and sadness. He felt alone, just as he had for the entirety of his existence, until Dean. And he'd forgotten how enjoyable there time had been together. But this was different. This was not questions and answers, experiencing foods and drinks, music, media. This was...emotional and caused him sadness and it hurt being rejected, just as it had with his brethren. He supposed he did not fit in anywhere. And there was no one to speak of his feelings. No one to keep him from harm. Not physically, he was more than able to handle any...thing that attacked. It was his grace that hurt. Dean had flat out rejected him, he knew it had been a strong possibility, but he had hoped that the change in their relationship and his earlier reaction to Castiel would have made a difference. It had not. He realized why Father had made them warriors; logical, rational beings made for a specific purpose, each one united as brothers, but given unique gifts to differentiate them. Castiel had been gifted with swift speed, unlimited patience, an ability to guide the younger creations and infinite curiosity towards the human race. Had his earlier actions gone against Father's will? It was all so very confusing to him. And Dean. He had never intended to become so close to the hunter, but he seemed to question himself when Dean was near. It was sometimes hard to think straight. He finally understood why Dean frequently spent time with the female of the species. The act had been...pleasurable. The hunter's touch had made him feel so good. Just as he'd believed his charge had wanted his touch; wanted to feel his hands, his mouth. His body. against the human's. Castiel knewtheir activity, compared to penetrative fornication, was viewed as 'making out', innocent. But, it had awakened feelings and desires and pure need and he wondered why now? After his millennia of existence, why was this affecting him now? Had Father been testing his self-control? And if so, had he failed? Would Father condemn him for his actions? He doubted the heavenly host would. If he had not wished for his youngest angel to become...involved, he would have not felt need or want. So much of the bible had mistaken Father's messages and he knew his creator was wise and good and Father had a sense of humor. Why else would he have created Gabriel? Especially when the archangel spoke of and to Father with his typical endearment. Because really? Calling Father Dad, well, Castiel would have been tempted to punish his older brother severely for his lack of respect, but Father had just smiled and spoke.
"CASTIEL, I MADE GABRIEL LIKE THAT AND I AM NEVER WRONG, DO YOU NOT AGREE? BESIDES, GABRIEL IS GABRIEL AND WOULD YOU WANT HIM ANY OTHER WAY?"
Castiel smiled at the memory and then it vanished. Things were so complicated now. Perhaps, he should have let Michael assume responsibility for the Righteous One? But, Father had entrusted him with the task and short of the hunter requesting another, he would not shirk his duties. But, it was so hard and looking down at Dean, he remembered how glorious their innocent coupling had been. He'd felt alive. Every nerve ending in the vessel screaming for more and closer and Dean. Was this why so many did whatever was needed to feel like that? Was his reactions to the hunter earlier based on a simple need to be touched? Loved by another? Was it the act itself or was the hunter the missing component? He had spent a fair amount of time in the hunter's life lately. Dean was always so adamant about enjoying everything humanity had to offer and perhaps this was just another lesson. He'd never been close to another, not like he had with the hunter, so the question remained. Was it specifically Dean or just a need to be touched, to be connected to another in a purely physical way? What was he to do about it? Who would have the answers? Gabriel knew all there was to know about humanity and specifically about sexual congress. He would have the answers. He frowned, Gabriel would want to know why and how and who. And he mustn't ever learn of Dean's treatment. He did not find the prospect of having to rescue Dean from hell a second time enjoyable. And his own guardian always knew. took his role as Castiel's guardian seriously, especially after his Father-appointed brother had been punished. And Gabriel and the other had been close, only in disagreement on that one topic, but it had been his downfall and his last words; a request to Gabriel and tearful goodbyes to them both, as well as Father and some of their brethren. He tried not to think of him, but he frequently did. He still missed him so very much.
Be that as it may, he could not risk telling Gabriel. But who? And how did he explain himself. He needed logical answers; reason for his thoughts and intense physical desires. And until this problem was resolved, he was no good to anyone. Not his brethren, not the humans and especially not to his charge. How was he to protect the hunter if he couldn't, as Dean would say, 'keep his head on straight'? And how foolish had he been to think his human's reactions towards him were anything but purely physical. He'd been convenient. That was all. Perhaps he needed to take a page from Samuel's habitual need of knowledge and research this topic. Or possibly speak with Samuel. He was different from the hunter, his thoughts did not center on his next 'female companion'. He smiled. In fact, he believed that his charge's younger brother had no need of a female anytime soon. He sighed and glanced into the car after seeing movement peripherally. He focused on his charge inside the car and swallowed, shivers of want slid through him, his body like a live wire. Dean's eyes were closed and his fingers were sliding down his neck, his abdomen; to his-Oh, Father-he watched as Dean's body moved slightly, in time with the hand that rubbed up and down. Castiel moaned, felt himself harden in the dress steeled his body, trying to control his reaction and then the eldest Winchester moaned, long and low and what Castiel would do to hear him make that sound for him? Because of him. Whatever happened afterwards didn't matter, not right now; all he could think was he needed so very badly. Needed to get closer, to be one with Dean and he took a step forward-suddenly the door to the vehicle swung open and the one man responsible for his loss of control quickly got out of the car. For precious seconds, the angel thought Dean was aware of his presence as he seemed to look directly at him and then his focus moved down his own body, (along with his hands), and Castiel followed with his eyes and they widened at the sight in front of him. Dean was hard and even through the jeans, he could tell how thick he was, the zipper straining and intense desire slammed through him. The urge to slide his eyes down every inch of the hunter's body; use his fingers to touch and feel; lick and nip, bite and suck...use his mouth and teeth; taste him with his tongue, worship the hunter as he deserved. Map out every single inch of him; every scar, every mark; his own palm print. What would that do? Anything? It was said that an angel's true one would feel intense satisfaction from the touch of his soul mate, was it possible that, no...no, but to touch and listen to those wondrous sounds the hunter would make for him? Without thought, he reached out, needed to feel-and then the hunter was shifting himself and Castiel's eyes flew to the hunter's and he reared back as he heard the low words. '
Fucking Angel. Need a drink, lot's of 'em. And a girl. Bad.
Castiel closed his eyes. Self-loathing and shame replaced the desire and need. He had his answer. He felt hischarge reach the door to the motel room and then he turned quickly around. Seemed to look directly at the angel. Mumbled words the angel couldn't hear with the storm brewing all around him and then his charge walked inside and closed the door. Dean was safe and his own idiocy, his own thoughts of the human were cut off. He needed answers. Wings fluttered and the parking lot was empty save for flurries of snow and cold wind.
Dean reached for the motel room doorknob and heard...Cas? He spun around, but saw nothing. Dammit. He sighed and then frowned. Why was he so disappointed that the angel wasn't standing there, focusing on him? Shaking his head, he walked into the room and looked for Sammy-oh, there. At least he wasn't in that mess outside-wait. Dean had been in that mess outside and instead of looking for him or calling his friggin' phone, he was sleeping? Why was Sam sleeping? Nice, Baby could have been in an accident or shit...he could've been lost in the forest and..and a Dean-sicle, by now! Ass.
"Oh, yeah. Glad to know he's got my back."
The eldest Winchester needed...a bar. He needed a drink. A lot of 'em. And a girl. Maybe more than one. Twins, yeah, twins. But first he needed a shower. He smelled like the ang-he wasn't going there. Shower, drink and a couple of girls. Really flexible horny girls. Yeah, that's the plan. He grabbed clean clothes and headed into the bathroom, making no effort to be quiet. Standing in the shower, he let the water wash over him, watching as it disappeared down the drain, hoping it would wash away all the shit that had happened, shit he didn't want to think about anymore. Mechanically, keeping his mind blank, he washed his hair and body. As he rinsed, he closed his eyes and Castiel's face filled his vision. Memories of what they'd done. the way he'd looked at Dean, touched him, whispered his name. God. The hunter felt himself get hard. Desperately trying to clear his mind of the angel, he tried to concentrate on something else; hunts, monsters, the promise of getting drunk and fucking a girl until the damn angel wasn't popping into his head anymore. Grabbing the soap, he began lathering up, keeping the process clinical-something that had to be done. Neck, chest, abdomen, both legs; refusing to touch himself for fear of hearing and feeling Castiel. It wasn't working. Clamping down on the thoughts, he soaped up his forearms, biceps, shoulders, proud he'd kept his mind blank. He rinsed and frowned at the residue the cheap motel soap left behind. The hunter ran his hands down one arm, then the other-and that's when his body stuttered-a bolt of pleasure slammed into him.
"Ohhhh, Godddd..."
Looking down, he breathed in, this was so not good. His palm print; Cas' imprint-his fingers flew off-and the need relented. Biting his lip, he ran his palm lightly over it again, his breath hitched at the want that ran through him at the touch and he closed his eyes, leaned back against the wall, pressed harder and let it happen. An image of Cas at his own neck, long slender digits sliding over the print, dragging down his body, lower, lower. The hunter pressed harder on the print-a moan slipped from his lips. Jesus...if it felt this good when he did it himself, how would it feel if someone else touched him there-if Cas touched him, pressed down, mouthed at it-God. He needed...hot breath and a hand (Cas'), that was not his own. Needed it-(him), trailing down his body. He pressed harder on the palm print with one hand and used the other to reach down and grip himself. Licking his lips at his own touch, he tightened his fist, stroking his aching cock. His eyes snapped open and his chin lowered to his chest as he looked down at himself.
Jesus. He'd never been this hard, this sensitive. And then another image assaulted his senses; Castiel, sliding gracefully to his knees as the hunter stared down at fuck-me black hair and bright blue eyes...almost black with lust. Words in that deep gravelly voice, 'want this, Dean...need to taste you, feel you in my throat'.
Dean inhaled sharply, eyes drifting closed as he felt Cas wrap those plush lips around him, licking, tasting; taking Dean in deeper and deeper until he swallowed the hunter's cock. Dean pressed hard on the palm print, fingertips sliding further back; through his balls to rub at his hole-a fingertip sliding inside. His body arched into the touch, hips rocking down, wanting Castiel's fingers and that fucking mouth swallowing him down. The images making him buck harder, into his fist and back onto his finger and he imagined looking down at the angel, watching the hunter coming undone; he slid a second finger inside him. It burned, but God, it felt-he suddenly hit that spot he'd heard about-legs shaking, visions of Cas causing loud groans against his will, his body demanding Dean fuck himself on his fingers and then he could see Cas clear as day-humming, swallowing; could feel himself in the back of the angel's throat and then those eyes were looking at him, his Cas stroking his own dick as he swallowed Dean down to the root and Jesus, Mother of-a gravelly whisper of his name just behind his ear at that spot, the one no one has ever found, ever touched and he stuttered, moaned loud, low, deep and slammed his head backwards as his body arched and he came. Violently. He emptied onto the tiled wall in front of him. Oh God, oh God, oh God! Christ! His cock kept pulsing, throbbing, sharp bursts of come exploding from him. He lost track of how long it took for his orgasm to slow and finally stop and when it finally did, he was barely able to hold himself up, weak from coming so hard. His eyes snapped open as he watched the evidence of his need disappear down the drain. What the fuck had just happened? Did he need to get laid that bad? And what was with the finger fucking and the absolute need for it to be-Oh, God. He'd never, in his life wanted anything anywhere near his-and he'd imagined the angel? Apparently, he had a guy thing going on. Great, wonderful. What was he supposed to do? Go to some gay bar and get this crap out of his system? He shut off his thoughts and the shower, dressed without drying off and got his ass out of the bathroom, only to find his brother looking at him, towel and clothes in hand.
"Nice nap, Sammy?"
Dean frowned as the younger hunter smiled slightly and mumbled, "not half as nice as what happened before the nap."
"What?"
Sam cleared his throat, threw a nothing over his shoulder and went into the bathroom, shutting the door. Dean sat down heavily on his bed. He'd just-he wasn't going to think about it. He needed to get the fuck out of here and drink himself into a coma. Now. He put his shoes on and stood up quickly, grabbing his jacket and looking for his keys. He needed to be gone before Sam got out of the shower, he so would not approve of Dean's actions or his way of dealing with them-.
"Hey. Where you going, Dean."
Dammit. "Just to the bar."
"You just got back. Besides it's bad out there and you look terrible. You need to sleep. How long has it been since you actually slept for more than a few hours?"
"I'm fine. I gotta go-."
"Look at me, Dean."
Fuck. The elder Winchester slowly turned, putting on his 'I'm-innocent-of-all-wrong-doing' face. It always worked on his little brother.
"I ain't buying it Dean. What'd you do?"
"Nothing, alright? I did nothing!"
Sam just crossed his eyes. Crap, he was getting bitch face number one eighty-three, (I can see right through you), and...oh, God...number one seventy-nine, (I'm your brother, you can tell me anything...).
"Don't Sam. Just...don't."
Sam just frowned, looked him up and down and spoke.
"You just got laid...again! How the hell in this time it took you to get back...during a friggin' storm, did you manage to have sex?"
Maybe if Dean ignored him, he'd go away.
"I can stand here all night, Dean. So I suggest you answer."
Sometimes he really wishes he were an only child. There was no way in hell he was telling Samantha just who he'd been...involved with. He'd never hear the end of it and he'd probably force him to-and this thought gave him the chills-talk it out with Cas. Uh-uh. Not happening. Time for slutty Dean to make an appearance. He just smirked and gestured to himself.
"I'm one hot motherfucker, Sammy. That's how."
Sam just rolled his eyes and stared at him.
"Yeah. Sure. A legend in your own mind", Dean prayed Sam would drop it, "you're not telling me something. Oh my God! This is about Castiel isn't-."
Dean's head snapped up. Fuck. "No! What the hell would make you think-."
"Shut up, Dean. I know that look. You did something stupid, said something to him or didn't say-wait! Dean! How could you?"
Dean looked around the room, anywhere but at Sam. A black hole would be really good about now.
"It just happ-."
He stopped talking when Sam went into full bitch mode. Arms flapping, eyes glaring, fingers pointing and mumbling to himself as he paced around the room. It would have been funny if it was directed at someone else or he was drunk. Shit. He'd better pay attention, otherwise, Samantha would finish bitching and then start all over again or worse, tell his version of the flower story. God. A fate worse than death.
"I don't believe you! Just what the hell did you do-don't answer. Lemme guess. Your dumb ass", Sam pointed at Dean, "decided to hit up a bar, even though we got a damn blizzard happening out there, because...why would you...oh yeah, it's you", he strode over to his brother, poked him in the chest and hissed, "manwhore. Shut up. You are."
Dean opened his mouth to argue and then shut it again, he couldn't actually argue with that.
"And I bet you were still all pissy with Cas after that scene at the farmhouse, so you were driving like a freaking maniac", Sam waited for Dean to yell and then hmmphed when Dean stayed silent, "probably lost control of the car because of the roads and did what you always do when you screw up-."
"Watch it, Sam-."
"Oh, please. it always goes the same way; you do something dumb, call for Castiel to get your ass outta the mess you caused and then once he does, you yell at him."
"Sam, you're skating on thin ice and you are wrong-."
"Really? I don't think so. Let's see, you want an example? Shut up, you're getting one, so sit your ass down and listen for five damn seconds. Two days ago, the vampire hunt, you went off half cocked and tried to take on six at a time-you yelled for the angel and Castiel showed and took care of the problem. And when he was done? You bitched about him taking his time. And then there was four days ago, you were in such a hurry to get to the next hunt, you didn't stop for gas...and we ran out in the middle of nowhere! Cue calling for the angel to deal with it. He showed, bitched you out, did it anyway and then you yelled about being his charge and why the fuck did it take so long and how you wouldn't ask him for shit again. And then there was-."
"Alright! Fuck! I get it! You wanna finish this little lecture, I got things to do-."
"Keep it up and I'll make you listen to the flower story...the long version!"
"God. A fate worse than death."
"Ha-ha, now shut the hell up! So what happened-God! Shut up! I'm going to tell you exactly what happened. You...I know you had sex, but you've got this whole new...not sure, but it's not the way you look...or act after one of your...", Sam twirled his finger, hoping Dean would get the point. Apparently he did, so he continued, "something's different, usually you're trying to coerce me into going with you to have 'sex pie' and then you wanna sleep, but something freaked you out. You're...", Sam just gave him another bitch face and kept on talking, "but even you're not this bad, so...I think that whoever the girl is, it wasn't just fuck and run on your part. It was different this time and that is scaring the crap outta you."
If he only knew...wait...Different. Fuck different. Wasn't different.
"I ain't scared of shit, but Cas-."
He turned around to leave and his brother stopped him cold.
"Cas? What does this have to do with...Oh, my God! Are you telling me that you called him for some stupid reason and then got involved with some girl and he showed? Again?"
Dean looked up, startled. Wow. Sam had totally missed the mark. Thank God.
"Well? So, what happened? You yelled at him, didn't you? He came when you called him again and you yelled at him! God! You're such a dick!"
He came alright and he wasn't the only one. Shit. Sam was bringing up crap Dean kept trying to forget. Stuff like... it had been so good, he'd passed out and that had never happened to him before. Another urban legend proved true. Great. All the sex he's had and Cas is the one to make him...this shit sucked. Cas is an angel, a guy angel, a virgin guy angel. Way to go Dean! When you fuck up, you don't fuck around. Yeah, Dean. God!
"So, I'm right, aren't I?"
Dean mumbled, "you don't even know the half of it..."
"What? What the fuck did you do-what else, Dean? Just what the hell-never mind, I don't want to know. But, I suggest you call him down here and apologize your ass off or the next time you go off half cocked-Dean? You have this really weird look on your face-."
The hunter wasn't really listening, those words-half cocked-and didn't that bring back an image; sure as hell, neither one of them had been...half-cocked. Jesus. He could still feel the angel touching, licking, breathing out his name, moaning. He remembered how desperate he'd gotten, desperate for Cas to get closer, slide against him-and that didn't even include what he'd done to himself in the shower-Christ, he was hard again, just from...
Sam was still talking, at least Dean thought he was. He was too busy trying to think of something, anything-rotting corpses, bodies hacked up, dick angels-and right back to Cas'...the hunter shifted, this was going to be really embarrassing if his brother noticed-.
"Oh, my God! Seriously, Dean? Just...fix this with Cas! One of these days you're gonna need him and he's gonna blow you off and then where will you-DAMMIT, DEAN!"
Fuck. Dean had moaned at Sam's words, because wasn't that what he wanted-shit. Sam was talking, he looked up and his brother was looking anywhere but at him. He looked down. Fucking great. Hard, again! He shifted and spoke to Sam with as much anger as he could considering how rock-hard he was.
"What? What do you want?"
"You are...you need a sex therapist or something", he pointed in Dean's general direction, "because that? It ain't normal! 'I'm going to...I'm gonna go to the bar-."
"Finally, let's go-."
"No."
"No? What the hell you mean, no?"
"Just what I said. You're not going anywhere, not until you talk to Castiel. I know how bad you want me to shut up so you can drink and fuck whatever shows any interest. Bar's way the hell on the other side of town, guess you're gonna have to call the angel to get you there."
"Fuck you, Sam. It's my car. There's no way in hell-."
"Yeah, Dean. Hell. You know, the place that...Cas pulled you out of? Risked his damn...whatever it is they have, just to get you out! Every damn time, he shows when you call him! So fucking fix this! Or I'll have Gabriel-"
"God, fine! Shut the hell up! Just go! And don't friggin' call him that!"
"What? Cas? You do-."
"Just don't."
Sam sighed, what the hell was his brother's problem? Didn't matter, "you're going to straighten out this mess with Castiel, right?"
"Yes. Fine. Whatever. Just leave me the hell alone!"
Dean felt like throwing something at him at that smug smile he received. Bitch.
"Jerk."
Okay, peeps, that was chapter six and I know it didn't cover much, but like I said, there are those who would rather read more chapters with shorter lengths. Please let me know what you think and I will (hopefully be posting chapter seven-part two in a few days. This will deal with Castiel's journey and will contain our favorite Archangel and Balthazar's introduction and of course, more from Cas' sweet friend, Jonathon. Have a great night. ;)