Fic: Supernatural: Dean/Castiel: 1/1 : (PG-13): Stay
I've written something for another of the prompt suggestions you guys left. It seems my muse may have returned - hope you enjoy :)
Title: Stay
Rating: PG-13
Chapter: 1/1
Author: nicole9514
Warnings: Language, vomiting, slash
Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, romance
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: If you know who Cas is, you're good.
A/N: Written for the prompt suggestion from jscribbles who wanted sick!cas. Also this is unbetaed, so please forgive any errors.
Summary: Dean was right there, hovering. Strong hands kneading into Cas’s tense muscles. Cas felt his eyes burn - he wasn’t sure whether it was from the kindness or the pain.
Word Count: 1,283
There were many things Castiel had grown to love about being mostly human. He enjoyed the increased sensations and pleasures he could appreciate that had been inconsequential to him before falling. The burn of his muscles after a good run, the wind hitting his skin when it was covered in perspiration, and the way everything was enhanced.
When he had been an angel, it had all been muted - covered with a layer of fog that had kept him from truly understanding what he was missing.
He had felt things of course; and the more time he’d spent on earth with the Winchesters, especially Dean, more emotions had surfaced.
Some he hadn’t understood at the time; now looking back he wanted to roll his eyes at what he’d misinterpreted and misunderstood.
Even though all of the feelings had been there, they’d been easier to bury, easier to ignore.
Once you experienced it all through human eyes, being an angel paled in comparison.
Despite his limitations, he would never choose to go back to living his life with a wall of glass between him and the world…between him and those he loved. It wasn’t enough.
However, days like this made him long for his angelic immune system.
He’d been living a human existence for almost two years now. Hunting, eating in diners, sleeping in a bed, even learning to drive, and commit credit card fraud.
In all that time he'd escaped the evil that plagued him now.
It was going to be added to his list of abominations his father had created to torment humanity.
Cas clung to the toilet; taking a deep breath in between dry heaves that left his throat burning and his stomach churning. He was hot and cold all at once, his hair matted to his scalp, and he couldn’t stop shivering.
The flu was hell, torture, he felt as if he were going to die.
He groaned as a wave of nausea rolled forward, and he braced his body for another round of this nightmare.
A gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, and a cool cloth was pressed against his forehead.
Cas leaned into it gratefully, savoring the coolness.
“I got ya, Cas.” Dean sat down next to him on the bathroom floor, and Cas immediately leaned back into him. Dean’s free arm settled around Castiel’s waist, his fingers softly making slow circles over the former angel’s thigh.
The other pressed the cloth to his neck, followed by long, lingering kisses to his feverish skin. Dean’s mouth felt cool against his flesh; he closed his eyes and focused on Dean touching him instead of his rocking stomach, and aching head.
“Sorry it took so long,” Dean murmured. “That damn faucet is more twitchy than a monkey craving a banana .”
Cas almost smiled at Dean‘s absurd analogy, as he snuggled deeper into the strong arms surrounding him.
“It’s okay,” he managed,” his voice raw and ragged.
Seconds later he was pushing forward, and clinging to toilet again as his stomach screamed obscenities at him and bile surged up his throat. He gagged, retching into the water.
Dean was right there, hovering. Strong hands kneading into Cas’s tense muscles. Cas felt his eyes burn - he wasn’t sure whether it was from the kindness or the pain.
Dean cursed; he could practically feel the hunter’s frustration at not being able to fix this. Dean had the hard ass act down to a science as Sam had put it one day, but Cas had long ago realized how much Dean cared, and how much he hid from others.
He was fiercely protective of those he loved, and somehow, by some miracle Castiel had become important enough to Dean to warrant that protectiveness. When they had finally crossed the threshold from friends to lovers, Castiel had felt as if for just a moment he had his grace back.
That feeling had surfaced on more than one occasion in their time together. Making love, a simple look that was only meant for him, and times like this.
Cas managed to sit up straight. He met Dean’s worried, green eyes and gave him a weary smile. “I’ll be fine, Dean.”
Dean nodded. “Damn right you will be.” His tone was hard, but his expression was soft. “You even think about doing anything but getting your skinny ass back to 100% and I’ll go Darth Vader on you.”
Cas raised one eyebrow. He was now very familiar with those films thanks to their movie marathon nights. “I’d like to see you try.” He was surprised how much smite he was able to push into his words considering he didn’t even think he could stand on his own at the moment.
Dean beamed. “Now that‘s what I‘m talking about.”
They sat on the floor another few minutes; Dean’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket.
Dean peered at it; he snorted. “Just Sam, texting from his hotel room right next door.”
Dean started typing.
“He wants to make sure you’re okay.” He laughed, deep, and throaty. “What a freaking girl.”
This time Cas did roll his eyes; something he’d learned from observing both brothers.
Dean was just as much a mother hen as Sam.
Although he was a hell of a lot more annoying about it.
If Sam cared, he showed it.
If Dean cared he hovered obsessively, and ordered you not to do something stupid. Of course ‘stupid’ meant anything he didn’t agree with, and he usually shouted a lot.
The more Dean was yelling, the more he was scared, or hurting. The more important you were to him.
Dean apparently cared a lot about him and Sam because they got the brunt of his anger on the bad days.
Once Cas had learned to speak Dean things had gotten a lot easier.
However, lately when it was just the two of them, Dean was doing less yelling, and more talking. It was encouraging.
“Tell him I appreciate his concern.” Cas murmured as he twisted his body, and buried his face into Dean’s t-shirt breathing in his scent. Waiting for another bout of vomiting.
“Whatever,” Dean replied, but Cas knew he would send the message.
****
Cas hadn’t vomited in an hour. He felt Dean’s fingers lovingly carding through his hair, then stroking his cheek. Cas opened his heavy lids and peered up at Dean from his fetal position.
“I think it’s past your bed time feathers.” Dean murmured, his eyes vulnerable in a way Cas rarely ever saw. It made him want to reach out, but his body had other ideas. It ached, and he felt more wrung out than the rag lying on the floor.
Dean scooped Castiel up as if he weighed nothing, and cradled his head against his shoulder. He felt Dean lower him onto the bed, pull the covers over him, and then he felt lips against his forehead.
He sensed Dean start to walk away and whispered, “Stay.”
Dean sighed theatrically, but he heard boots being dropped onto the floor, and the rustling of clothes as Dean removed his shirt. “You are such a needy, little pain in my ass,” he grumbled, but his tone was brimming with affection, and perhaps a smidge of relief.
Cas felt the bed sink as Dean climbed in, felt the heat of Dean’s body as their bodies aligned. Dean wrapped one arm around the former angel, kissing his hair.
Cas smiled, taking Dean’s hand, and entwining their fingers. He felt the bliss that was sleep pulling him away from his sore body.
Just before he succumbed Cas heard Dean whisper, “I’m not going anywhere, Cas.”
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are always loved; how else will I know if anyone enjoyed this :)
Title: Stay
Rating: PG-13
Chapter: 1/1
Author: nicole9514
Warnings: Language, vomiting, slash
Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, romance
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: If you know who Cas is, you're good.
A/N: Written for the prompt suggestion from jscribbles who wanted sick!cas. Also this is unbetaed, so please forgive any errors.
Summary: Dean was right there, hovering. Strong hands kneading into Cas’s tense muscles. Cas felt his eyes burn - he wasn’t sure whether it was from the kindness or the pain.
Word Count: 1,283
There were many things Castiel had grown to love about being mostly human. He enjoyed the increased sensations and pleasures he could appreciate that had been inconsequential to him before falling. The burn of his muscles after a good run, the wind hitting his skin when it was covered in perspiration, and the way everything was enhanced.
When he had been an angel, it had all been muted - covered with a layer of fog that had kept him from truly understanding what he was missing.
He had felt things of course; and the more time he’d spent on earth with the Winchesters, especially Dean, more emotions had surfaced.
Some he hadn’t understood at the time; now looking back he wanted to roll his eyes at what he’d misinterpreted and misunderstood.
Even though all of the feelings had been there, they’d been easier to bury, easier to ignore.
Once you experienced it all through human eyes, being an angel paled in comparison.
Despite his limitations, he would never choose to go back to living his life with a wall of glass between him and the world…between him and those he loved. It wasn’t enough.
However, days like this made him long for his angelic immune system.
He’d been living a human existence for almost two years now. Hunting, eating in diners, sleeping in a bed, even learning to drive, and commit credit card fraud.
In all that time he'd escaped the evil that plagued him now.
It was going to be added to his list of abominations his father had created to torment humanity.
Cas clung to the toilet; taking a deep breath in between dry heaves that left his throat burning and his stomach churning. He was hot and cold all at once, his hair matted to his scalp, and he couldn’t stop shivering.
The flu was hell, torture, he felt as if he were going to die.
He groaned as a wave of nausea rolled forward, and he braced his body for another round of this nightmare.
A gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, and a cool cloth was pressed against his forehead.
Cas leaned into it gratefully, savoring the coolness.
“I got ya, Cas.” Dean sat down next to him on the bathroom floor, and Cas immediately leaned back into him. Dean’s free arm settled around Castiel’s waist, his fingers softly making slow circles over the former angel’s thigh.
The other pressed the cloth to his neck, followed by long, lingering kisses to his feverish skin. Dean’s mouth felt cool against his flesh; he closed his eyes and focused on Dean touching him instead of his rocking stomach, and aching head.
“Sorry it took so long,” Dean murmured. “That damn faucet is more twitchy than a monkey craving a banana .”
Cas almost smiled at Dean‘s absurd analogy, as he snuggled deeper into the strong arms surrounding him.
“It’s okay,” he managed,” his voice raw and ragged.
Seconds later he was pushing forward, and clinging to toilet again as his stomach screamed obscenities at him and bile surged up his throat. He gagged, retching into the water.
Dean was right there, hovering. Strong hands kneading into Cas’s tense muscles. Cas felt his eyes burn - he wasn’t sure whether it was from the kindness or the pain.
Dean cursed; he could practically feel the hunter’s frustration at not being able to fix this. Dean had the hard ass act down to a science as Sam had put it one day, but Cas had long ago realized how much Dean cared, and how much he hid from others.
He was fiercely protective of those he loved, and somehow, by some miracle Castiel had become important enough to Dean to warrant that protectiveness. When they had finally crossed the threshold from friends to lovers, Castiel had felt as if for just a moment he had his grace back.
That feeling had surfaced on more than one occasion in their time together. Making love, a simple look that was only meant for him, and times like this.
Cas managed to sit up straight. He met Dean’s worried, green eyes and gave him a weary smile. “I’ll be fine, Dean.”
Dean nodded. “Damn right you will be.” His tone was hard, but his expression was soft. “You even think about doing anything but getting your skinny ass back to 100% and I’ll go Darth Vader on you.”
Cas raised one eyebrow. He was now very familiar with those films thanks to their movie marathon nights. “I’d like to see you try.” He was surprised how much smite he was able to push into his words considering he didn’t even think he could stand on his own at the moment.
Dean beamed. “Now that‘s what I‘m talking about.”
They sat on the floor another few minutes; Dean’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket.
Dean peered at it; he snorted. “Just Sam, texting from his hotel room right next door.”
Dean started typing.
“He wants to make sure you’re okay.” He laughed, deep, and throaty. “What a freaking girl.”
This time Cas did roll his eyes; something he’d learned from observing both brothers.
Dean was just as much a mother hen as Sam.
Although he was a hell of a lot more annoying about it.
If Sam cared, he showed it.
If Dean cared he hovered obsessively, and ordered you not to do something stupid. Of course ‘stupid’ meant anything he didn’t agree with, and he usually shouted a lot.
The more Dean was yelling, the more he was scared, or hurting. The more important you were to him.
Dean apparently cared a lot about him and Sam because they got the brunt of his anger on the bad days.
Once Cas had learned to speak Dean things had gotten a lot easier.
However, lately when it was just the two of them, Dean was doing less yelling, and more talking. It was encouraging.
“Tell him I appreciate his concern.” Cas murmured as he twisted his body, and buried his face into Dean’s t-shirt breathing in his scent. Waiting for another bout of vomiting.
“Whatever,” Dean replied, but Cas knew he would send the message.
****
Cas hadn’t vomited in an hour. He felt Dean’s fingers lovingly carding through his hair, then stroking his cheek. Cas opened his heavy lids and peered up at Dean from his fetal position.
“I think it’s past your bed time feathers.” Dean murmured, his eyes vulnerable in a way Cas rarely ever saw. It made him want to reach out, but his body had other ideas. It ached, and he felt more wrung out than the rag lying on the floor.
Dean scooped Castiel up as if he weighed nothing, and cradled his head against his shoulder. He felt Dean lower him onto the bed, pull the covers over him, and then he felt lips against his forehead.
He sensed Dean start to walk away and whispered, “Stay.”
Dean sighed theatrically, but he heard boots being dropped onto the floor, and the rustling of clothes as Dean removed his shirt. “You are such a needy, little pain in my ass,” he grumbled, but his tone was brimming with affection, and perhaps a smidge of relief.
Cas felt the bed sink as Dean climbed in, felt the heat of Dean’s body as their bodies aligned. Dean wrapped one arm around the former angel, kissing his hair.
Cas smiled, taking Dean’s hand, and entwining their fingers. He felt the bliss that was sleep pulling him away from his sore body.
Just before he succumbed Cas heard Dean whisper, “I’m not going anywhere, Cas.”
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are always loved; how else will I know if anyone enjoyed this :)