Kiss Bingo: Location: Neck
Title: Ten Nights and a Day
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: mild R
Category: First Time
Length: ~1,700 words
Summary: The apocalypse is over and Dean dreams.
Ten Nights
The first night after the apocalypse ends, Dean dreams of fishing. He's back on the dock, warm sun, clear lake. He even gets a bite. Cas shows up right after he's put his line back in the water. He doesn't say a word, just sits on the dock next to Dean's chair, his shoulder touching the outside of Dean's thigh.
The second night they see Led Zeppelin in London. Cas looks oddly at home in the crowd, despite his suit and trench coat. He even holds up a lighter during "Stairway to Heaven." Led Zep plays both "Ramblin' On" and "Traveling Riverside Blues." It's the most awesome concert ever.
The third night Cas takes him flying. It's not instantaneous, like it normally is. This is flying, looking down at the world from on high. Cas has an arm tight around his waist, keeping Dean pressed against his side. It makes him feel a little like Lois Lane.
They glide around the world, with Cas beating those big, powerful wings of his just enough to keep them moving.
He sees animals he's never seen outside of a television-- elephants and tigers and chimpanzees. Penguins. Whales. He looks down on villages in places he's never heard of, hears people speak in languages he didn't know existed.
He wakes up knowing it was all worth it.
The fourth night they get crab cakes from at a roadside place in Maine and walk along the shore, eating and watching the waves.
The fifth night they sit on the bed in his motel room and watch Dr. Sexy. It seems like a waste of a dream. Why dream about doing something he can do when he's awake? Except Cas is there. And he hasn't seen Cas outside of his dreams in days.
He turns to look at Cas, finds Cas looking at him.
"May I ask you something?" Cas says.
"Sure."
"May I..." Cas hesitates and Dean frowns because the one thing Cas isn't is hesitant. "May I kiss you?"
It was the last thing Dean was expecting to hear, but he doesn't think about it, just nods and leans closer to Cas.
When Cas presses his lips to Dean's, they're firmer than Dean expected. The kiss has barely started when he hears a flutter of wings and Cas is gone.
The sixth night he doesn't remember his dreams. He wakes up cranky and out of sorts and wishing Cas would show up so Dean can give him the kick in the ass he so richly deserves.
The seventh night he's in hell. You'd think the nightmares would've stopped after the fucking apocalypse, but no. The razor is on the table in front of him, tormenting him, promising him relief if only he'll use it.
A strong hand grips his shoulder and Dean wakes up.
Except he doesn't, not really. When he turns over and opens his eyes, sees Cas leaning over him, he knows this is as much a dream as hell was, maybe more.
"Where the hell have you been?" he asks, sitting up and glaring at Cas.
Cas takes his hand away. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well, you don't just fly away mid-kiss, Cas. It's rude." Cas looks down at his shoes and Dean knows he's sorry. "Next time I will kick your ass. Or slap you across the face and say 'seriously.'"
Cas grins at him. "You'd hurt your hand."
"Probably." Dean slides over on the bed. "You gonna stand all night or what?"
Sitting on the side of the bed, Cas lifts gaze to Dean's.
"Where were you last night?" Dean asks.
"I needed to think."
It doesn't take a genius to figure out what Cas was thinking about. "Reach any conclusions?"
"Only that I want to kiss you again."
Cas wants to kiss him and the crazy thing is Dean wants Cas to kiss him. He's battled angels and demons, the fucking four horsemen, even his own brother. Dean figures he's earned a few kisses, even if they are from an angel of the Lord. "What are you waiting for?" Dean asks and Cas leans in.
With everything he's been through, Dean has no idea why it's the tenderness in Cas's kiss that makes him feel like his heart just might crack in two.
He wakes up feeling better than he has since the flying. They'd kissed and kissed. And then kissed some more, which is fine with Dean. He remembers what it felt like when every kiss was a revelation and he wants Cas to have that feeling for as long as possible.
The eighth night his dreams begin with kisses. Slow, hot, entangled kisses. Cas is half on top of him, pressing him into the bed. Dean takes his time moving his hands over the planes of Cas's back and shoulders, learning the feel of him all over again.
Cas kisses with purpose, like each kiss is his life's work.
Dean rolls them so Cas is on his back and presses his lips to Cas's neck, just under his jaw. Cas stretches, offering more of his skin. Dean takes the offer, working his way along the side of Cas's neck, caressing Cas with lips and tongue and teeth, his hand resting on Cas's hip.
Cas groans and Dean sucks on the skin beneath his lips.
On the ninth night, Dean turns off the lights and stretches out on the bed at seven p.m. He suspects angelic intervention because he falls asleep immediately and slips into a dream where he's naked in a big comfortable bed.
He's not alone.
He wakes up naked, with dried semen making the skin on his stomach itch.
On the tenth night, he leans down between Cas's legs, breathes in the scent of him, tastes his skin as he licks up the underside of Cas's cock, looks up in time to see the look of surprised delight on Cas's face.
And a Day
"Dean."
"I thought I told you not to do that," Dean says, dropping his toothbrush in the sink. Cupping water in his hand, he rinses his mouth. He dries his hands and face before turning to face Cas.
"I need to speak with you."
"Trouble in heaven?" Dean asks.
Cas shakes his head. "Not trouble, exactly. I've been given a choice."
"Choice?" Dean doesn't like the sound of that. "I thought you were a hero now."
"I've been offered the chance to come back to earth."
Cas's gaze is locked on his and Dean gets the feeling he's not going to like this offer. "You gonna come help fight the bad guys again?"
"I could choose to do that."
"Cas," Dean says, taking a step toward him. "What's the catch?"
"I would be human."
"Human. Like grow old and die human? No more flying or zapping demons back to hell human?"
"Yes."
Taking hold of Cas's arm, Dean says, "You can't do it."
"What if it's what I want?" Cas asks, his eyes locked on Dean's.
Dean knows about sacrificing yourself. Hell, his family started the fucking apocalypse with their determination to sacrifice themselves for one another. It's the Winchester curse. And there's no way Cas is giving up heaven for him. "Don't do this, Cas. I'm not--"
"Worth it?" Cas asks, cutting him off. He takes a half-step forward and he's deep inside Dean's space now, so close they're almost pressed together. "Don't you think I should be the one to decide that?"
"Cas, please."
"If I wasn't an angel anymore, if I was human, would you still--"
In his head Dean hears every possible ending to that question, and the answer to every one of them is the same. "Yes," Dean says, ignoring the part of him that is screaming at him to lie, to send Cas back to heaven. He can't lie to Cas, not about this. It wouldn't be right.
Cas nods and lifts his lips. The kiss is soft and short, and Cas waits until it's over before disappearing.
It's their first kiss outside of a dream.
He gets breakfast at the closest diner. The eggs are runny, the coffee's weak and the toast is nearly black. Dean eats it all without noticing.
Back in his motel room, he opens his laptop and putters on the internet trying to distract himself. It doesn't work. He turns on the television set, hoping for a decent movie. All he can find are talk shows and that home and garden channel. He clicks it off. Watching people pick out houses with white picket fences annoys the crap out of him on a good day.
This isn't a good day.
He's considering running out for a sandwich when there's a knock on the door.
He knows who it is, what he's going to find.
Cas steps inside as soon as Dean opens the door. He's changed. There's no denying he's changed. The aura of power that had always surrounded Cas has diminished, but not as much as Dean thought it would.
"You did it," Dean says.
"You knew I would." Cas's expression is defiant. It's too late to tell him no, to remind him that Dean is done having people sacrifice themselves for him, that his father's sacrifice was more than enough. It doesn't matter. The words would stick in his throat anyway.
A single step and Cas is in his arms, warm and alive. Dean holds on as hard as he can, presses his face to the curve of Cas's neck. "I love you."
"I know," Cas says and Dean touches his lips to Cas's skin. "It's written all over you, has been for a while now."
Dean has no idea when or how Cas became good at reading people. Doesn't care.
"Angels talk about love," Cas says, pulling back enough that Dean can see his face. His eyes are as compelling as ever. That hasn't changed. "Loving God, loving one another. Some even talk about loving humanity." Cas lifts a hand to Dean's cheek. "They don't have a fucking clue."
Dean nods.
"Some days I think I was born loving you," Cas says.
Maybe he was. Maybe this is their destiny, their reward for playing their parts. But Dean doesn't believe that. This isn't destiny. It's free will. "No. You chose, Cas. You chose. And so did I."
Cas's answer is a kiss.
It's all the answer Dean needs.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: mild R
Category: First Time
Length: ~1,700 words
Summary: The apocalypse is over and Dean dreams.
Ten Nights
The first night after the apocalypse ends, Dean dreams of fishing. He's back on the dock, warm sun, clear lake. He even gets a bite. Cas shows up right after he's put his line back in the water. He doesn't say a word, just sits on the dock next to Dean's chair, his shoulder touching the outside of Dean's thigh.
The second night they see Led Zeppelin in London. Cas looks oddly at home in the crowd, despite his suit and trench coat. He even holds up a lighter during "Stairway to Heaven." Led Zep plays both "Ramblin' On" and "Traveling Riverside Blues." It's the most awesome concert ever.
The third night Cas takes him flying. It's not instantaneous, like it normally is. This is flying, looking down at the world from on high. Cas has an arm tight around his waist, keeping Dean pressed against his side. It makes him feel a little like Lois Lane.
They glide around the world, with Cas beating those big, powerful wings of his just enough to keep them moving.
He sees animals he's never seen outside of a television-- elephants and tigers and chimpanzees. Penguins. Whales. He looks down on villages in places he's never heard of, hears people speak in languages he didn't know existed.
He wakes up knowing it was all worth it.
The fourth night they get crab cakes from at a roadside place in Maine and walk along the shore, eating and watching the waves.
The fifth night they sit on the bed in his motel room and watch Dr. Sexy. It seems like a waste of a dream. Why dream about doing something he can do when he's awake? Except Cas is there. And he hasn't seen Cas outside of his dreams in days.
He turns to look at Cas, finds Cas looking at him.
"May I ask you something?" Cas says.
"Sure."
"May I..." Cas hesitates and Dean frowns because the one thing Cas isn't is hesitant. "May I kiss you?"
It was the last thing Dean was expecting to hear, but he doesn't think about it, just nods and leans closer to Cas.
When Cas presses his lips to Dean's, they're firmer than Dean expected. The kiss has barely started when he hears a flutter of wings and Cas is gone.
The sixth night he doesn't remember his dreams. He wakes up cranky and out of sorts and wishing Cas would show up so Dean can give him the kick in the ass he so richly deserves.
The seventh night he's in hell. You'd think the nightmares would've stopped after the fucking apocalypse, but no. The razor is on the table in front of him, tormenting him, promising him relief if only he'll use it.
A strong hand grips his shoulder and Dean wakes up.
Except he doesn't, not really. When he turns over and opens his eyes, sees Cas leaning over him, he knows this is as much a dream as hell was, maybe more.
"Where the hell have you been?" he asks, sitting up and glaring at Cas.
Cas takes his hand away. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well, you don't just fly away mid-kiss, Cas. It's rude." Cas looks down at his shoes and Dean knows he's sorry. "Next time I will kick your ass. Or slap you across the face and say 'seriously.'"
Cas grins at him. "You'd hurt your hand."
"Probably." Dean slides over on the bed. "You gonna stand all night or what?"
Sitting on the side of the bed, Cas lifts gaze to Dean's.
"Where were you last night?" Dean asks.
"I needed to think."
It doesn't take a genius to figure out what Cas was thinking about. "Reach any conclusions?"
"Only that I want to kiss you again."
Cas wants to kiss him and the crazy thing is Dean wants Cas to kiss him. He's battled angels and demons, the fucking four horsemen, even his own brother. Dean figures he's earned a few kisses, even if they are from an angel of the Lord. "What are you waiting for?" Dean asks and Cas leans in.
With everything he's been through, Dean has no idea why it's the tenderness in Cas's kiss that makes him feel like his heart just might crack in two.
He wakes up feeling better than he has since the flying. They'd kissed and kissed. And then kissed some more, which is fine with Dean. He remembers what it felt like when every kiss was a revelation and he wants Cas to have that feeling for as long as possible.
The eighth night his dreams begin with kisses. Slow, hot, entangled kisses. Cas is half on top of him, pressing him into the bed. Dean takes his time moving his hands over the planes of Cas's back and shoulders, learning the feel of him all over again.
Cas kisses with purpose, like each kiss is his life's work.
Dean rolls them so Cas is on his back and presses his lips to Cas's neck, just under his jaw. Cas stretches, offering more of his skin. Dean takes the offer, working his way along the side of Cas's neck, caressing Cas with lips and tongue and teeth, his hand resting on Cas's hip.
Cas groans and Dean sucks on the skin beneath his lips.
On the ninth night, Dean turns off the lights and stretches out on the bed at seven p.m. He suspects angelic intervention because he falls asleep immediately and slips into a dream where he's naked in a big comfortable bed.
He's not alone.
He wakes up naked, with dried semen making the skin on his stomach itch.
On the tenth night, he leans down between Cas's legs, breathes in the scent of him, tastes his skin as he licks up the underside of Cas's cock, looks up in time to see the look of surprised delight on Cas's face.
And a Day
"Dean."
"I thought I told you not to do that," Dean says, dropping his toothbrush in the sink. Cupping water in his hand, he rinses his mouth. He dries his hands and face before turning to face Cas.
"I need to speak with you."
"Trouble in heaven?" Dean asks.
Cas shakes his head. "Not trouble, exactly. I've been given a choice."
"Choice?" Dean doesn't like the sound of that. "I thought you were a hero now."
"I've been offered the chance to come back to earth."
Cas's gaze is locked on his and Dean gets the feeling he's not going to like this offer. "You gonna come help fight the bad guys again?"
"I could choose to do that."
"Cas," Dean says, taking a step toward him. "What's the catch?"
"I would be human."
"Human. Like grow old and die human? No more flying or zapping demons back to hell human?"
"Yes."
Taking hold of Cas's arm, Dean says, "You can't do it."
"What if it's what I want?" Cas asks, his eyes locked on Dean's.
Dean knows about sacrificing yourself. Hell, his family started the fucking apocalypse with their determination to sacrifice themselves for one another. It's the Winchester curse. And there's no way Cas is giving up heaven for him. "Don't do this, Cas. I'm not--"
"Worth it?" Cas asks, cutting him off. He takes a half-step forward and he's deep inside Dean's space now, so close they're almost pressed together. "Don't you think I should be the one to decide that?"
"Cas, please."
"If I wasn't an angel anymore, if I was human, would you still--"
In his head Dean hears every possible ending to that question, and the answer to every one of them is the same. "Yes," Dean says, ignoring the part of him that is screaming at him to lie, to send Cas back to heaven. He can't lie to Cas, not about this. It wouldn't be right.
Cas nods and lifts his lips. The kiss is soft and short, and Cas waits until it's over before disappearing.
It's their first kiss outside of a dream.
He gets breakfast at the closest diner. The eggs are runny, the coffee's weak and the toast is nearly black. Dean eats it all without noticing.
Back in his motel room, he opens his laptop and putters on the internet trying to distract himself. It doesn't work. He turns on the television set, hoping for a decent movie. All he can find are talk shows and that home and garden channel. He clicks it off. Watching people pick out houses with white picket fences annoys the crap out of him on a good day.
This isn't a good day.
He's considering running out for a sandwich when there's a knock on the door.
He knows who it is, what he's going to find.
Cas steps inside as soon as Dean opens the door. He's changed. There's no denying he's changed. The aura of power that had always surrounded Cas has diminished, but not as much as Dean thought it would.
"You did it," Dean says.
"You knew I would." Cas's expression is defiant. It's too late to tell him no, to remind him that Dean is done having people sacrifice themselves for him, that his father's sacrifice was more than enough. It doesn't matter. The words would stick in his throat anyway.
A single step and Cas is in his arms, warm and alive. Dean holds on as hard as he can, presses his face to the curve of Cas's neck. "I love you."
"I know," Cas says and Dean touches his lips to Cas's skin. "It's written all over you, has been for a while now."
Dean has no idea when or how Cas became good at reading people. Doesn't care.
"Angels talk about love," Cas says, pulling back enough that Dean can see his face. His eyes are as compelling as ever. That hasn't changed. "Loving God, loving one another. Some even talk about loving humanity." Cas lifts a hand to Dean's cheek. "They don't have a fucking clue."
Dean nods.
"Some days I think I was born loving you," Cas says.
Maybe he was. Maybe this is their destiny, their reward for playing their parts. But Dean doesn't believe that. This isn't destiny. It's free will. "No. You chose, Cas. You chose. And so did I."
Cas's answer is a kiss.
It's all the answer Dean needs.