Title: How to Date an Angel in 140 Characters or Less
Pairing: Sam/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~1400
Warnings: Crack schmoop. Croop? Schmack? Some swearing.
Summary: Castiel has found a new use for his phone. Unfortunately for Sam, he isn't too clear on the concept of "privacy".
A/N: This is a sequel to
Words With Angels. I don't think it's necessary to read it to understand this fic, but if you want to, it's about the same length as this one (ie, really short). All you really need to know is that Cas has a smartphone and is dating Sam.
This was written for 31 Little Abominations at
sassy_otp. Big thanks to my Twitter feed for a. talking me into writing this (I will eventually get around to writing the Robo!Sam/Cas porn I had intended to write) and b. brainstorming with me.
Also available at
AO3.
Castiel kisses strangely.
He's not a bad kisser, it's just that every kiss seems to be some sort of...test. An experiment.
"I'm just seeing what I like best, and what you like best," Cas explains when Sam asks him about the thoughtful expression on his face when he draws away.
For a moment, Sam is a little miffed by this less-than-romantic view of making out, but then he realizes that since they have limited opportunities to actually be alone, this is actually a pretty reasonable method.
The reason they have limited opportunities to make out can be summed up in one word: Dean.
"How many times have I told you not to be all gross around me?" Dean had asked the second time he accidentally interrupted a makeout session.
"Once," Sam had pointed out. "Have you heard of knocking?"
"I shouldn't have to knock to get into my motel room that I paid for with my money," Dean had said.
"I thought you stole the money through an elaborate system of fraud." Cas had looked genuinely confused.
"Whatever," Dean had said, stomping out.
Sam is not a little resentful of Dean's attitude, especially given Dean's own disregard for privacy with his own liaisons, but he reluctantly admits that Castiel has a point when he observes that their relationship must be a little strange for him. They're the two people Dean is closest to in the world, and now they're in a relationship that excludes him in a very particular way.
Sam is pretty proud of Castiel's improved understanding of human behavior. He takes a lot of credit for it.
They're enjoying a Dean-free (and kissing-full) moment and Sam is thinking that it might be a good time to start losing layers when he hears - and feels - something buzzing in Castiel's pocket.
Fuck you, Dean, Sam thinks. He's pretty sure that there's only one person in the world who even has Cas' number besides himself. At least, until Castiel takes the phone out, thinks for a moment, and starts typing away.
"Are you texting Dean?" Sam asks, incredulous. He wasn't even aware Cas knew how to text. He generally just calls.
"No, I'm responding to one of my Twitter followers," Castiel explains. "I set it up to text my phone when I get a direct message."
For a moment, Sam wonders if perhaps he has entered an alternate universe. Sam knows what all of those words mean individually, but combined, it's as though Cas is speaking another language.
"Bzuh?" he asks intelligently.
"My Twitter followers have some very interesting questions sometimes," Castiel says, typing away with his thumbs.
"You...have a Twitter."
"Yes, it is quite the intellectual exercise. God and Heaven are ineffable, you know, and it is very challenging to discuss complex theological points in 140 characters or less."
"You're on Twitter?"
Castiel looks confused.
"I believe I just said I am on Twitter. Didn't I just say that?"
::
"Did you know Castiel is on Twitter?" Sam asks Dean later that evening.
"Twitter, that's the thing with the porn, right?"
Sam smacks his own face with his palm. It hurts.
"Just kidding, Sam, I know what Twitter is. Anyway, sure I knew. Cas told me about it when he hit 10,000 followers."
"Cas has 10,000 followers on Twitter?" Sam asks, startled.
"Well, this was awhile ago," Dean says. "So he probably has more now. By the way, he has a lot to say about what you look like naked."
"Oh, God," Sam whimpers.
::
It turns out that this must have been quite awhile ago, since Cas is now up to 50,000 followers.
Sam discovers this by searching Twitter for "angel theology", and finds "angelcastiel" as the third name listed, right under the Pope. Who only has 11,000 followers.
@angelcastiel: @iLiKeMoneyYy: As far as I am aware, God is not interested in homosexual relationships at all. In fact, I am in a homosexual relationship.
@angelcastiel: @iLiKeMoneyYy: Although in my true form I am neither male nor female, I currently identify as male. As does my boyfriend.
@angelcastiel: @bieberfan784932: I don't think my boyfriend would like it if I posted a picture of him, but yes, he is very attractive.
@angelcastiel: Why are cupcakes so small? Is one's enjoyment of the cupcake heightened by the knowledge that it will be gone quickly?
@angelcastiel: Yes, that is a metaphor.
::
"I hear your Twitter fans want to see a picture of me," Sam tells Castiel the next time they see each other, which is in a diner. Dean is eating an apple pie, which does not react well to his sudden fit of laughter.
If Cas is bothered that Sam has found his Twitter, he doesn't show it.
"I didn't think you would like your picture on the internet, as you are supposed to be legally dead, so I didn't share it."
"Uh, thanks, Cas," Sam says awkwardly. "Keep...not posting my picture."
::
@angelcastiel: Scientists believe that 23% of the universe is composed of invisible dark matter. This theory is incorrect.
@angelcastiel: Mary Magdalene was not a prostitute. She did work at a brothel, but it was just behind the counter.
::
"You think it's a poltergeist?" Sam asks, thoughtfully.
"I think it could be a poltergeist," Dean says.
Sam leans back in his chair and lets his eyes wander over to Castiel, who's sitting on the other side of the room, watching an episode of Scooby Doo. He seems loathe to leave them alone, but he also doesn't have much to contribute to the hunt. His lips part as he concentrates on the TV, and Sam has an urge to kiss him silly.
"Ugh, stop it with the moony face, he's only like five feet away," Dean says, disgusted. "You'll have your chance later."
Castiel takes out his phone and starts typing.
::
@angelcastiel: I think I'm going to have sex with my boyfriend tonight. If his brother ever leaves.
@angelcastiel: Have you ever noticed that there is a certain repetition to Scooby Doo episodes?
@angelcastiel: @MileyIsGod: When in human form, the head of a pin is too small to dance upon. In angel form, infinite.
@angelcastiel: @MileyisGod: By the way, I don't know who this Miley is, but I doubt he or she is God.
@angelcastiel: Consider the giant squid.
::
Cas is kissing the underside of Sam's chin, his hand slowly crawling up Sam's thigh, and Cas has definitely been practicing his technique. It's good. It should be hot.
Sam pulls back,
"Are you going to tell your Twitter followers about this later?" he asks.
Castiel thinks for a moment.
"It depends on how good it is," he says. "If it's unusually good, yes."
Sam tips forward until his forehead is resting on Cas' shoulder.
"Don't," he says.
"Don't what?"
"Don't tell your Twitter followers about our me. Or our sex life, okay?"
"But why?" Castiel asks. "You are an important part of my life, Sam."
Sam looks up to meet Castiel's eyes.
"Some things should be private, Cas. Kept between only me and you. Not...me and you and 50,000 other people. One of whom is apparently Dean."
Castiel looks like he's about to speak, then pauses. He looks thoughtful for a moment, and Sam holds his breath. He and Cas have never argued and he really doesn't want to start now.
"Between us," Castiel finally says, and Sam lets out his breath.
"Great," Sam says, grabbing Cas' collar and pulling him onto the bed.
::
"Hear you had fun last night," Dean says.
The air conditioning in the Impala hasn't worked in Sam's lifetime, and it's hot and muggy. Sam is feeling lethargic and sleepy and even Dean's teasing can't bother him.
"Mmm hmm," he agrees.
"Playing boardgames and reading the paper? Very respectable."
Sam opens an eye.
"What?" he asks, confused.
"Look at your boyfriend's Twitter," Dean says.
Sam rouses himself enough to pull his phone out of his pocket and looks up Cas' Twitter.
@angelcastiel: The boyfriend and I played Scrabble and read the news last night. That's it. Nothing else. Certainly no crazy sex.
Sam sighs. "Well, I guess it's an improvement."