Kiss Bingo: Type: Eskimo
Title: The Infinitely Precious
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Category: Pre-slash
Rating: G
Length: ~ 1,800 words
Notes: Thank you to Grrrl for the encouragement.
Summary: Cas has questions. Dean learns something about how Cas sees the world.
Either kiss bingo is addictive or Dean and Castiel are.
Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you. --- Oscar Wilde
"Do Eskimos really kiss differently from other people?"
Dean looked up from his burger, cooked to just this side of medium, which is how he likes it, and glanced at Sam.
"No," Sam said. "Why do you ask?"
"I once heard someone use the phrase 'Eskimo kiss,'" Cas said. "I wondered what they meant."
Cas had been with them for the last four days. Dean was pretty sure neither Bobby nor Sam had been talking about Eskimos kissing. He sure as hell hadn't. "When did you hear this?"
"Two months, three days and four hours ago, more or less."
"More or less," Bobby said. Dean could hear the amusement in Bobby's voice, but he doubted Cas could. Cas just didn't know Bobby well enough yet.
"An Eskimo kiss is when two people rub their noses together," Sam said. Leave it to Sam to actually offer an explanation.
Frowning, Cas asked, "Is that pleasurable?"
"Not especially," Dean said and everyone turned to look at him. "What? It isn't."
"People who weren't Eskimos believed Eskimos rubbed their noses together to keep them warm," Sam said, ignoring Dean.
"Ah," Cas said with a nod, and everyone else went back to eating their dinner. Something Dean was happy to do, since it wasn't every day he got to eat one of Bobby's special burgers.
"Do the French kiss differently?" Cas asked.
Leaning back in his chair, Sam picked up his beer. "I think I'll let Dean answer this one."
Dean made a face at his brother, then swallowed his bite of burger. "Everybody French kisses. It's when you use tongue."
Cas's frown turned so deep Dean worried his face might freeze like that. "Like the women in the magazine photos with their tongues meeting in mid-air?"
"That only happens in porn," Sam said. "Real people don't kiss like that. Except maybe Dean."
Giving his brother the sarcastic grin, Dean said, "Very funny."
"So the tongues don't meet in the air?" Cas asked, looking confused.
The conversation was starting to make Dean feel like a pre-teen girl at a slumber party. "Why are we talking about kissing?"
All eyes turned to Castiel. "I thought it was better than talking about the apocalypse."
"That is the first thing you've said that makes sense," Bobby declared, rising to his feet. "I cooked. You all can clean up. Just don't forget to explain to the angel where the tongue goes," he added, slapping Dean's shoulder as he walked past.
Cas turned to look at him, all blue-eyed curiosity. "Where does the tongue go?"
Sam laughed.
Dean sighed. "Into the other person's mouth. Didn't Chastity show you any of this?"
"She did not. Perhaps that would have been 'ordering off the menu?'"
"Chastity?" Sam asked.
"The prostitute Dean took me to."
"You took Cas to a prostitute?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly what he thought of that idea.
"I didn't want him to die without, you know, getting a little," Dean said then grabbed a bite of his burger, hoping the conversation would stop so he could just finish his dinner.
"Dean," Sam said.
"What?"
"A prostitute?"
"You got a better suggestion?"
"I don't know, maybe you could let him find a girl he's actually interested in."
"I think I like men," Cas said, causing Dean's reply to stop in the middle of his throat.
There was a moment of silence, a really long moment of silence. "Well, um, good for you," Dean said, giving Cas his best encouraging smile. He made sure the next bite of his burger was a really big one.
"Yeah, Cas, that's great. I mean, it's good to know what you like, right?" Sam said.
Dean took another bite of his burger.
"I suppose," Cas said.
They finished eating in silence, for which Dean was deeply grateful. There had been enough talking for one night, way more than enough.
Sam turned down Cas's offer of help with the dishes, pointing out he hadn't actually eaten. Sam began filling the sink with water while Dean cleared the table.
"I think you should talk to Cas," Sam said when Dean slid a stack of plates into the sink.
"What? Why?"
"You're his friend."
"So are you," Dean said.
Sam looked at him in that annoying way he had, with the face that said, 'you are deliberately being an idiot, Dean, and this is serious so stop it.' Dean hated that face. "He's closer to you."
"You want me to talk to an angel about being gay."
"I want you to talk to your friend. You know, the one who regularly risks his life for us."
It was a low blow. Dean glared at him. Sam glared back. "Fine," Dean said, "but you're on your own for the dishes."
"I think I can handle it," Sam said, but Dean was already walking from the room.
He found Cas sitting on the front steps, watching the sunset, feet on the step a couple down from where he was sitting, knees and legs at ninety degree angles. He looked as uncomfortable as he always looked. The only place he'd ever seen Cas look comfortable was the Impala, but then Dean's baby had that effect on people.
Dean sat, resting his back against the post at the top of the steps. "So girl parts don't do it for you, huh?"
"What?" Cas asked, looking up at him.
"I think I like men," Dean quoted.
"Oh. I'm not really attracted to parts."
"So what are you attracted to?"
"Souls."
Of course. Dean shouldn't have needed to ask. "That's different," he said, after searching for something to say other than 'it figures.'
Cas's gaze shifted to just above him, like he was looking at something Dean couldn't see. "Your soul is like a beacon, shining upward, stretching toward the stars."
That was cool, and weird, but mostly cool, though the thought of Cas seeing his soul was kind of unsettling. "What about Sam's?"
Cas shifted his gaze to Dean's face. "Sam's soul is strong, but it's mottled. It doesn't have the same clarity as yours."
The answer wasn't unexpected. "He's not doomed or anything, right?"
"No. He still has free will. Sam's fate is still his choice."
Dean nodded and tried to think of a way to shift the conversation to something more comfortable.
"Do you know the white house with the trellis and the blue flowers?" Cas asked.
The house was on the way into town. Dean drove by it every time they visited Bobby. "Yeah."
"Bobby's soul is the same color as the flowers."
Dean grinned. "Seriously?"
Cas nodded.
"Bobby's soul is the color of flowers." Leaning forward, Dean rested an elbow on his thigh. "Promise me you'll tell him that."
"I promise," Cas said, his lips curling into the almost smile that was as close to genuine smile as Cas ever seemed to get.
Leaning back against the post, Dean asked, "What does your soul look like?"
"I don't know. I've never seen it."
"How come?"
"There aren't any soul mirrors, Dean."
"I bet it's yellow, bright and fierce, like the sun. Always burning. Always there."
"I--" Cas's expression was a mixture of pleasure and surprise. "I hope you're right."
"Of course I'm right," Dean said, his eyes on Cas's face. Cas was gazing back and the whole thing was lasting longer than it should. "Why aren't you attracted to women's souls?" Dean asked because it was the first thing to come to mind.
"I may be. I just haven't met a woman whose soul I've been drawn to."
The only men Cas spent time with were Sam, Bobby and Dean. Dean doubted Cas was attracted to Bobby's flower-blue soul, and he knew from the way he'd described it that Cas wasn't drawn to Sam's. Which left Dean's.
Cas was attracted to Dean's soul.
It was a nice thought, someone being drawn to him not because of his looks or because he'd broken out the charm, but because of his soul.
"It's not physical, right? Being drawn to someone's soul?"
Looking out across the yard, Cas clasped his hands in his lap. "It's becoming physical. I increasingly find myself wanting to reach out." Cas paused. "To touch."
"So first you're drawn to the soul and then everything else."
"Yes," Cas glanced at him, as if trying to get a sense of Dean's reaction.
Dean had no idea what Cas saw, probably confusion. It wasn't as if Dean had never swapped a hand job with another guy, but that was all it had been, and he'd been a kid at the time. It had been meaningless, and nothing about Cas was meaningless. Hell, Cas wasn't even a guy. He was an angel of the Lord, but mostly he was Cas. "Is that why you asked about the kissing?"
"Partly. Mostly I asked because I thought it would make you all laugh." Cas turned toward him with an actual, honest-to-God smile on his face.
Dean smiled back. "You."
"Me," Cas answered.
"You ever gonna act on the whole attraction thing?" Dean asked, proving once again that his mouth ran off a circuit separate from his brain.
"I don't know. I'm considering it," Cas said carefully, his gaze capturing Dean's.
"When you decide, let me know."
Cas's eyes widened. "I will."
"I'm going to head in. There's a new episode of Dr. Sexy tonight. Want to watch?"
"I like it out here."
"Okay," Dean said. Cas's gaze followed him as he rose to his feet. The sun was mostly down now, but even in the fading light Cas's eyes were bright, like they were lit from within instead of without. "You sure you don't want to watch Dr. Sexy?" he asked. "There's a good chance Dr. Piccolo might slap someone."
"I'm fine."
"Your loss," Dean said, and turned toward the door. An instant later he turned back, leaned down, and rubbed the tip of his nose across Cas's.
Cas lifted his hand to his nose.
"Told you it wasn't any fun," Dean said.
"Maybe you did it wrong."
"Kissing's something I always get right."
"Of course," Cas said in a tone that said volumes all on its own.
Dean should've had something flirty to say to that, but as he backed toward the door all he could do was look at Cas's face. Cas had that expression again, like he was looking at something awesome, the one that had always made Dean wonder if Cas had been sniffing the angel-glue. Only now he knew what Cas was looking at and instead of making him want to protest, point out he wasn't anything special, it made him want to square his shoulders, maybe stand up a little straighter.
Dean's ass hit the door and he gave Cas an embarrassed smile before pulling it open and slipping inside.
A few minutes later, before Dr. Piccolo had had a chance to slap anyone, Cas came in and sat beside him on the couch, and when Dean glanced at him, he could've sworn he saw a hint of yellow along the back of his head.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Category: Pre-slash
Rating: G
Length: ~ 1,800 words
Notes: Thank you to Grrrl for the encouragement.
Summary: Cas has questions. Dean learns something about how Cas sees the world.
Either kiss bingo is addictive or Dean and Castiel are.
Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you. --- Oscar Wilde
"Do Eskimos really kiss differently from other people?"
Dean looked up from his burger, cooked to just this side of medium, which is how he likes it, and glanced at Sam.
"No," Sam said. "Why do you ask?"
"I once heard someone use the phrase 'Eskimo kiss,'" Cas said. "I wondered what they meant."
Cas had been with them for the last four days. Dean was pretty sure neither Bobby nor Sam had been talking about Eskimos kissing. He sure as hell hadn't. "When did you hear this?"
"Two months, three days and four hours ago, more or less."
"More or less," Bobby said. Dean could hear the amusement in Bobby's voice, but he doubted Cas could. Cas just didn't know Bobby well enough yet.
"An Eskimo kiss is when two people rub their noses together," Sam said. Leave it to Sam to actually offer an explanation.
Frowning, Cas asked, "Is that pleasurable?"
"Not especially," Dean said and everyone turned to look at him. "What? It isn't."
"People who weren't Eskimos believed Eskimos rubbed their noses together to keep them warm," Sam said, ignoring Dean.
"Ah," Cas said with a nod, and everyone else went back to eating their dinner. Something Dean was happy to do, since it wasn't every day he got to eat one of Bobby's special burgers.
"Do the French kiss differently?" Cas asked.
Leaning back in his chair, Sam picked up his beer. "I think I'll let Dean answer this one."
Dean made a face at his brother, then swallowed his bite of burger. "Everybody French kisses. It's when you use tongue."
Cas's frown turned so deep Dean worried his face might freeze like that. "Like the women in the magazine photos with their tongues meeting in mid-air?"
"That only happens in porn," Sam said. "Real people don't kiss like that. Except maybe Dean."
Giving his brother the sarcastic grin, Dean said, "Very funny."
"So the tongues don't meet in the air?" Cas asked, looking confused.
The conversation was starting to make Dean feel like a pre-teen girl at a slumber party. "Why are we talking about kissing?"
All eyes turned to Castiel. "I thought it was better than talking about the apocalypse."
"That is the first thing you've said that makes sense," Bobby declared, rising to his feet. "I cooked. You all can clean up. Just don't forget to explain to the angel where the tongue goes," he added, slapping Dean's shoulder as he walked past.
Cas turned to look at him, all blue-eyed curiosity. "Where does the tongue go?"
Sam laughed.
Dean sighed. "Into the other person's mouth. Didn't Chastity show you any of this?"
"She did not. Perhaps that would have been 'ordering off the menu?'"
"Chastity?" Sam asked.
"The prostitute Dean took me to."
"You took Cas to a prostitute?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly what he thought of that idea.
"I didn't want him to die without, you know, getting a little," Dean said then grabbed a bite of his burger, hoping the conversation would stop so he could just finish his dinner.
"Dean," Sam said.
"What?"
"A prostitute?"
"You got a better suggestion?"
"I don't know, maybe you could let him find a girl he's actually interested in."
"I think I like men," Cas said, causing Dean's reply to stop in the middle of his throat.
There was a moment of silence, a really long moment of silence. "Well, um, good for you," Dean said, giving Cas his best encouraging smile. He made sure the next bite of his burger was a really big one.
"Yeah, Cas, that's great. I mean, it's good to know what you like, right?" Sam said.
Dean took another bite of his burger.
"I suppose," Cas said.
They finished eating in silence, for which Dean was deeply grateful. There had been enough talking for one night, way more than enough.
Sam turned down Cas's offer of help with the dishes, pointing out he hadn't actually eaten. Sam began filling the sink with water while Dean cleared the table.
"I think you should talk to Cas," Sam said when Dean slid a stack of plates into the sink.
"What? Why?"
"You're his friend."
"So are you," Dean said.
Sam looked at him in that annoying way he had, with the face that said, 'you are deliberately being an idiot, Dean, and this is serious so stop it.' Dean hated that face. "He's closer to you."
"You want me to talk to an angel about being gay."
"I want you to talk to your friend. You know, the one who regularly risks his life for us."
It was a low blow. Dean glared at him. Sam glared back. "Fine," Dean said, "but you're on your own for the dishes."
"I think I can handle it," Sam said, but Dean was already walking from the room.
He found Cas sitting on the front steps, watching the sunset, feet on the step a couple down from where he was sitting, knees and legs at ninety degree angles. He looked as uncomfortable as he always looked. The only place he'd ever seen Cas look comfortable was the Impala, but then Dean's baby had that effect on people.
Dean sat, resting his back against the post at the top of the steps. "So girl parts don't do it for you, huh?"
"What?" Cas asked, looking up at him.
"I think I like men," Dean quoted.
"Oh. I'm not really attracted to parts."
"So what are you attracted to?"
"Souls."
Of course. Dean shouldn't have needed to ask. "That's different," he said, after searching for something to say other than 'it figures.'
Cas's gaze shifted to just above him, like he was looking at something Dean couldn't see. "Your soul is like a beacon, shining upward, stretching toward the stars."
That was cool, and weird, but mostly cool, though the thought of Cas seeing his soul was kind of unsettling. "What about Sam's?"
Cas shifted his gaze to Dean's face. "Sam's soul is strong, but it's mottled. It doesn't have the same clarity as yours."
The answer wasn't unexpected. "He's not doomed or anything, right?"
"No. He still has free will. Sam's fate is still his choice."
Dean nodded and tried to think of a way to shift the conversation to something more comfortable.
"Do you know the white house with the trellis and the blue flowers?" Cas asked.
The house was on the way into town. Dean drove by it every time they visited Bobby. "Yeah."
"Bobby's soul is the same color as the flowers."
Dean grinned. "Seriously?"
Cas nodded.
"Bobby's soul is the color of flowers." Leaning forward, Dean rested an elbow on his thigh. "Promise me you'll tell him that."
"I promise," Cas said, his lips curling into the almost smile that was as close to genuine smile as Cas ever seemed to get.
Leaning back against the post, Dean asked, "What does your soul look like?"
"I don't know. I've never seen it."
"How come?"
"There aren't any soul mirrors, Dean."
"I bet it's yellow, bright and fierce, like the sun. Always burning. Always there."
"I--" Cas's expression was a mixture of pleasure and surprise. "I hope you're right."
"Of course I'm right," Dean said, his eyes on Cas's face. Cas was gazing back and the whole thing was lasting longer than it should. "Why aren't you attracted to women's souls?" Dean asked because it was the first thing to come to mind.
"I may be. I just haven't met a woman whose soul I've been drawn to."
The only men Cas spent time with were Sam, Bobby and Dean. Dean doubted Cas was attracted to Bobby's flower-blue soul, and he knew from the way he'd described it that Cas wasn't drawn to Sam's. Which left Dean's.
Cas was attracted to Dean's soul.
It was a nice thought, someone being drawn to him not because of his looks or because he'd broken out the charm, but because of his soul.
"It's not physical, right? Being drawn to someone's soul?"
Looking out across the yard, Cas clasped his hands in his lap. "It's becoming physical. I increasingly find myself wanting to reach out." Cas paused. "To touch."
"So first you're drawn to the soul and then everything else."
"Yes," Cas glanced at him, as if trying to get a sense of Dean's reaction.
Dean had no idea what Cas saw, probably confusion. It wasn't as if Dean had never swapped a hand job with another guy, but that was all it had been, and he'd been a kid at the time. It had been meaningless, and nothing about Cas was meaningless. Hell, Cas wasn't even a guy. He was an angel of the Lord, but mostly he was Cas. "Is that why you asked about the kissing?"
"Partly. Mostly I asked because I thought it would make you all laugh." Cas turned toward him with an actual, honest-to-God smile on his face.
Dean smiled back. "You."
"Me," Cas answered.
"You ever gonna act on the whole attraction thing?" Dean asked, proving once again that his mouth ran off a circuit separate from his brain.
"I don't know. I'm considering it," Cas said carefully, his gaze capturing Dean's.
"When you decide, let me know."
Cas's eyes widened. "I will."
"I'm going to head in. There's a new episode of Dr. Sexy tonight. Want to watch?"
"I like it out here."
"Okay," Dean said. Cas's gaze followed him as he rose to his feet. The sun was mostly down now, but even in the fading light Cas's eyes were bright, like they were lit from within instead of without. "You sure you don't want to watch Dr. Sexy?" he asked. "There's a good chance Dr. Piccolo might slap someone."
"I'm fine."
"Your loss," Dean said, and turned toward the door. An instant later he turned back, leaned down, and rubbed the tip of his nose across Cas's.
Cas lifted his hand to his nose.
"Told you it wasn't any fun," Dean said.
"Maybe you did it wrong."
"Kissing's something I always get right."
"Of course," Cas said in a tone that said volumes all on its own.
Dean should've had something flirty to say to that, but as he backed toward the door all he could do was look at Cas's face. Cas had that expression again, like he was looking at something awesome, the one that had always made Dean wonder if Cas had been sniffing the angel-glue. Only now he knew what Cas was looking at and instead of making him want to protest, point out he wasn't anything special, it made him want to square his shoulders, maybe stand up a little straighter.
Dean's ass hit the door and he gave Cas an embarrassed smile before pulling it open and slipping inside.
A few minutes later, before Dr. Piccolo had had a chance to slap anyone, Cas came in and sat beside him on the couch, and when Dean glanced at him, he could've sworn he saw a hint of yellow along the back of his head.