[FIC] I Would Kiss Thee for electricskeptic
Gift type: Fanfic
Title: I Would Kiss Thee
Author: gblvr
Recipient: electricskeptic
Rating: PG
Warnings: there is a teeny-tiny bit of Sam/Cas here, but it all works out in the end.
Spoilers: set mid-S5; specifically mentions 5x03, "Free To Be You And Me"
Wordcount: 1517
Summary: Castiel learns a new use for mistletoe.
Author notes: Many, many thanks to EE for beta work -- you are the bestest of friends. &hearts Any remaining errors and inconsistencies are my own.
Title from Song of Solomon 8:1 -- When I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; yea, I should not be despised.
When Castiel arrived at the Krab Katcher Motor Inn, he found Sam alone in the room. He was bent over a small table, intent on assembling what looked like hex bags of made up of rock salt and herbs, twigs and leaves, sections of lemon, and what looked like a broken mirror and sprigs of mistletoe.
“Where is Dean?”
Sam startled, banging his knee against the underside of the table. “Damn it, Cas. How many times have we told you not to sneak up on us like that?”
“Where is Dean, Sam?”
“Out, getting some dinner. Why?”
“He called. I expected him to be here.”
Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well, he will be, so just sit tight.”
Castiel wasn’t sure why sitting, or how loose he was doing so would affect Dean’s arrival, but he didn’t understand a lot of what Dean and Sam said, so he decided it was of little import.
To pass the time, Castiel looked around the room, wondering what had possessed anyone to paint the walls such a lurid red. He was unsure as to why the ceiling was covered in what looked like a fishing net, or why there appeared to be miniature replicas of sea creatures caught in it. This room, like so many Dean and Sam had stayed in before, made no sense. He knew better than to ask, though, as prior discussions about interior design had left him puzzled and Dean amused.
He crossed the room to stand over the table, and as he watched, Sam tied off one of the hex bags. Most of the ingredients made sense, but the only purpose he could ascribe to the mistletoe was protection from witches. Dean hated witches, but he hadn’t mentioned one on the phone.
Castiel picked up the bag Sam had just completed. “What are these for?”
“We’re pretty sure the disappearances in this area are because of a coven of witches. And since the last time we tangled with a witch, Dean wound up covered in hives, we decided we should go in with some protection.”
Castiel nodded. “That explains the mistletoe, then.”
“You know what else mistletoe is good for?” Castiel recognized that twinkle in Sam’s eye -- it meant he was going to say something other humans would find amusing, and that he would most likely not understand. He stifled a sigh (something he did all too often when speaking to either of the Winchesters) and waited for Sam to elaborate, sure he would continue whether Castiel asked him to or not.
“Kissing.”
Kissing, and doing it with Dean in particular, was something Castiel devoted a great deal of thought to. He wanted to try it, but he had no idea how. Yes, he could see for himself what the basics were, and before he’d scared her away, Chastity had kissed him, but what he didn’t understand was how to make it known that he wanted to kiss someone. Perhaps this was something he could use.
“Explain.”
Sam chuckled a bit, and picked up a sprig of mistletoe. He dangled it in the air above his head and said, “If you get caught under the mistletoe, you have to kiss whoever you’re with.”
“I do not understand. Why would you stand beneath a poisionous parasitic weed? And who has decreed that one must be kissed?”
Sam dropped his hand to the tabletop as he burst out laughing. “No one’s “decreed” anything. It’s just tradition, is all.”
“Does everyone follow this tradition?”
“Well...no. But most people aren’t going to complain if they kissed under the mistletoe.”
An idea was starting to form in Castiel’s mind, but he wanted more information first. “What about you? If I were to kiss you, would you complain?”
Sam looked a little unsure. “I guess not. But isn’t there some--mmmph.” Castiel cut off whatever he was going to say by leaning in and pressing his mouth to Sam’s.
Kissing Sam was pleasant. More pleasant than kissing Chastity had been certainly, since his mouth was free of the waxy flatness of lipstick, but not as pleasant as he hoped it would be to kiss Dean. He thought of the pink bow of Dean’s mouth and wondered if it was as soft as Sam’s, if he would taste the same when Castiel licked his lips afterward. He wanted to know what Dean’s breath would feel like against his mouth and if he would use his tongue like Chastity had.
Castiel remained where he was, lip to lip with Sam, thinking of what this would be like with Dean, unsure of how to end the kiss and concluding that Dean would surely know. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Sam made a noise, and pushed against his shoulders. The chair Sam was sitting in began to skid backwards just as the door opened.
Castiel turned his head to look at Dean, who was standing by the door with what could only be described as a murderous look on his face.
“Dean!” Sam pushed his chair back hard enough to hit the wall as he stood.
Dean didn’t say anything. He stepped far enough into the room to put down the bag he held and then left the room.
Sam pushed past Castiel, calling to Dean as he followed him out into the cold air. He could hear Sam’s voice rising and falling, and underneath that, the rumble of Dean’s voice, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He crossed to the door, wanting to know.
“ --kissed me, Dean! One minute I’m telling him about mistletoe and next thing I know, I’m touched by an angel.”
“Yeah well, it didn’t look like you were saying no there, Sam.” Dean’s eyes cut over to where Castiel was standing in the doorway. He looked back to Sam and shook his head. “I’ll just get another room, leave you guys to it.”
“What? No!” “Dean.” Castiel and Sam spoke at the same time. Sam stepped back and waved Castiel forward before he spoke again. “Castiel, would you please tell him that it’s not me you want to be kissing?”
Castiel looked at Sam, startled. How did he know that?
Sam just rolled his eyes at Castiel and walked back to the room. Castiel heard the door click shut, and immediately after that, the rattle of the security chain.
It was quiet for a long stretch of minutes. Castiel watched as the cold air plumed between them, softening the lines of Dean’s face, blurring his expression so much Castiel couldn’t tell what Dean was thinking or feeling.
When Dean finally broke the silence, he spoke so quietly Castiel almost missed it. “Cas?”
Castiel tilted his head and watched as Dean came closer. He stopped before they were touching, as far into Castiel’s personal space as he always accused Castiel of being in his.
“Sam telling the truth? You kissed him?”
Castiel nodded. “I did. I needed data in order to make a decision.”
“And you didn’t think you could come to me?” Dean licked his lips and huffed out a breath before he continued. “Damn it, Cas, why did it have to be Sam?”
Castiel found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the curve of Dean’s lower lip. “You would rather I kissed someone else?”
“No.” Dean rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, but didn’t say anything else, and Castiel just knew. He leaned in the last few inches and tipped his face up, pressing his mouth to Dean’s, knowing this was the right thing to do as surely as he knew that Heaven was real.
Dean hesitated for the barest moment before he groaned and slid his hands into Castiel’s hair, pulling him closer and slicking his tongue over Castiel’s lower lip and into his mouth, and yes, it was better than Castiel hoped it would be. His mouth, oh dear Lord, his mouth fit perfectly with Castiel’s, like he was made to do this, made to kiss Castiel in the cold, clear December air, made to cradle him close and hold him up.
Castiel stepped in close, wrapping his arms around Dean, pressing his body to Dean’s and breathing in deep. Dean smelled of cheap soap and gun oil and cold, clean air and the woody green of mistletoe and the heavy, sharp scent of leather. This close, he could see every single freckle, every gradation of color in the flush that spread across Dean’s skin, every dark lash fanned against his cheek. It was all a little overwhelming and Castiel allowed his eyes to slip shut, just for a moment, so he could better concentrate on the feel of Dean’s mouth on his.
When Dean pulled away, Castiel followed, not wanting the kiss to end. Dean chuckled and pressed a kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth before he rested his forehead against Castiel’s.
“I don’t want you to kiss anyone but me, Cas. Got it?”
Castiel smiled then, and tipped his head up to kiss Dean again, because yeah, he got it.
~ end ~
Title: I Would Kiss Thee
Author: gblvr
Recipient: electricskeptic
Rating: PG
Warnings: there is a teeny-tiny bit of Sam/Cas here, but it all works out in the end.
Spoilers: set mid-S5; specifically mentions 5x03, "Free To Be You And Me"
Wordcount: 1517
Summary: Castiel learns a new use for mistletoe.
Author notes: Many, many thanks to EE for beta work -- you are the bestest of friends. &hearts Any remaining errors and inconsistencies are my own.
Title from Song of Solomon 8:1 -- When I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; yea, I should not be despised.
When Castiel arrived at the Krab Katcher Motor Inn, he found Sam alone in the room. He was bent over a small table, intent on assembling what looked like hex bags of made up of rock salt and herbs, twigs and leaves, sections of lemon, and what looked like a broken mirror and sprigs of mistletoe.
“Where is Dean?”
Sam startled, banging his knee against the underside of the table. “Damn it, Cas. How many times have we told you not to sneak up on us like that?”
“Where is Dean, Sam?”
“Out, getting some dinner. Why?”
“He called. I expected him to be here.”
Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well, he will be, so just sit tight.”
Castiel wasn’t sure why sitting, or how loose he was doing so would affect Dean’s arrival, but he didn’t understand a lot of what Dean and Sam said, so he decided it was of little import.
To pass the time, Castiel looked around the room, wondering what had possessed anyone to paint the walls such a lurid red. He was unsure as to why the ceiling was covered in what looked like a fishing net, or why there appeared to be miniature replicas of sea creatures caught in it. This room, like so many Dean and Sam had stayed in before, made no sense. He knew better than to ask, though, as prior discussions about interior design had left him puzzled and Dean amused.
He crossed the room to stand over the table, and as he watched, Sam tied off one of the hex bags. Most of the ingredients made sense, but the only purpose he could ascribe to the mistletoe was protection from witches. Dean hated witches, but he hadn’t mentioned one on the phone.
Castiel picked up the bag Sam had just completed. “What are these for?”
“We’re pretty sure the disappearances in this area are because of a coven of witches. And since the last time we tangled with a witch, Dean wound up covered in hives, we decided we should go in with some protection.”
Castiel nodded. “That explains the mistletoe, then.”
“You know what else mistletoe is good for?” Castiel recognized that twinkle in Sam’s eye -- it meant he was going to say something other humans would find amusing, and that he would most likely not understand. He stifled a sigh (something he did all too often when speaking to either of the Winchesters) and waited for Sam to elaborate, sure he would continue whether Castiel asked him to or not.
“Kissing.”
Kissing, and doing it with Dean in particular, was something Castiel devoted a great deal of thought to. He wanted to try it, but he had no idea how. Yes, he could see for himself what the basics were, and before he’d scared her away, Chastity had kissed him, but what he didn’t understand was how to make it known that he wanted to kiss someone. Perhaps this was something he could use.
“Explain.”
Sam chuckled a bit, and picked up a sprig of mistletoe. He dangled it in the air above his head and said, “If you get caught under the mistletoe, you have to kiss whoever you’re with.”
“I do not understand. Why would you stand beneath a poisionous parasitic weed? And who has decreed that one must be kissed?”
Sam dropped his hand to the tabletop as he burst out laughing. “No one’s “decreed” anything. It’s just tradition, is all.”
“Does everyone follow this tradition?”
“Well...no. But most people aren’t going to complain if they kissed under the mistletoe.”
An idea was starting to form in Castiel’s mind, but he wanted more information first. “What about you? If I were to kiss you, would you complain?”
Sam looked a little unsure. “I guess not. But isn’t there some--mmmph.” Castiel cut off whatever he was going to say by leaning in and pressing his mouth to Sam’s.
Kissing Sam was pleasant. More pleasant than kissing Chastity had been certainly, since his mouth was free of the waxy flatness of lipstick, but not as pleasant as he hoped it would be to kiss Dean. He thought of the pink bow of Dean’s mouth and wondered if it was as soft as Sam’s, if he would taste the same when Castiel licked his lips afterward. He wanted to know what Dean’s breath would feel like against his mouth and if he would use his tongue like Chastity had.
Castiel remained where he was, lip to lip with Sam, thinking of what this would be like with Dean, unsure of how to end the kiss and concluding that Dean would surely know. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Sam made a noise, and pushed against his shoulders. The chair Sam was sitting in began to skid backwards just as the door opened.
Castiel turned his head to look at Dean, who was standing by the door with what could only be described as a murderous look on his face.
“Dean!” Sam pushed his chair back hard enough to hit the wall as he stood.
Dean didn’t say anything. He stepped far enough into the room to put down the bag he held and then left the room.
Sam pushed past Castiel, calling to Dean as he followed him out into the cold air. He could hear Sam’s voice rising and falling, and underneath that, the rumble of Dean’s voice, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He crossed to the door, wanting to know.
“ --kissed me, Dean! One minute I’m telling him about mistletoe and next thing I know, I’m touched by an angel.”
“Yeah well, it didn’t look like you were saying no there, Sam.” Dean’s eyes cut over to where Castiel was standing in the doorway. He looked back to Sam and shook his head. “I’ll just get another room, leave you guys to it.”
“What? No!” “Dean.” Castiel and Sam spoke at the same time. Sam stepped back and waved Castiel forward before he spoke again. “Castiel, would you please tell him that it’s not me you want to be kissing?”
Castiel looked at Sam, startled. How did he know that?
Sam just rolled his eyes at Castiel and walked back to the room. Castiel heard the door click shut, and immediately after that, the rattle of the security chain.
It was quiet for a long stretch of minutes. Castiel watched as the cold air plumed between them, softening the lines of Dean’s face, blurring his expression so much Castiel couldn’t tell what Dean was thinking or feeling.
When Dean finally broke the silence, he spoke so quietly Castiel almost missed it. “Cas?”
Castiel tilted his head and watched as Dean came closer. He stopped before they were touching, as far into Castiel’s personal space as he always accused Castiel of being in his.
“Sam telling the truth? You kissed him?”
Castiel nodded. “I did. I needed data in order to make a decision.”
“And you didn’t think you could come to me?” Dean licked his lips and huffed out a breath before he continued. “Damn it, Cas, why did it have to be Sam?”
Castiel found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the curve of Dean’s lower lip. “You would rather I kissed someone else?”
“No.” Dean rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, but didn’t say anything else, and Castiel just knew. He leaned in the last few inches and tipped his face up, pressing his mouth to Dean’s, knowing this was the right thing to do as surely as he knew that Heaven was real.
Dean hesitated for the barest moment before he groaned and slid his hands into Castiel’s hair, pulling him closer and slicking his tongue over Castiel’s lower lip and into his mouth, and yes, it was better than Castiel hoped it would be. His mouth, oh dear Lord, his mouth fit perfectly with Castiel’s, like he was made to do this, made to kiss Castiel in the cold, clear December air, made to cradle him close and hold him up.
Castiel stepped in close, wrapping his arms around Dean, pressing his body to Dean’s and breathing in deep. Dean smelled of cheap soap and gun oil and cold, clean air and the woody green of mistletoe and the heavy, sharp scent of leather. This close, he could see every single freckle, every gradation of color in the flush that spread across Dean’s skin, every dark lash fanned against his cheek. It was all a little overwhelming and Castiel allowed his eyes to slip shut, just for a moment, so he could better concentrate on the feel of Dean’s mouth on his.
When Dean pulled away, Castiel followed, not wanting the kiss to end. Dean chuckled and pressed a kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth before he rested his forehead against Castiel’s.
“I don’t want you to kiss anyone but me, Cas. Got it?”
Castiel smiled then, and tipped his head up to kiss Dean again, because yeah, he got it.
~ end ~