[FIC] - And The Walls Bend
Beta: deprecari
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam Winchester, Meg, Kevin Tran
Genre: angst, fluff,
Warnings: some sexual content
Rating: PG
Prompts: halo, for
angel_kink
Summary: In which Dean gets some perspective on the nature of halos, and Castiel struggles not to hide in the dark. (written for dc_summerlovin)
Sam and Kevin start arguing over religious iconography, of all things, which sends Cas flying off the moment their voices turn combative. The discussion stops at a caustic remark from Meg, and Sam and Kevin stare at the ground, chastened for having frightened the angel away. Meg shoots a pointed look at Dean. He raises a questioning brow, and she jerks her head toward the basement.
"Your boyfriend,” she says, definitively ending any further consideration of the matter.
As the discussion resumes - something about early Christian artists representing halos more accurately despite the less realistic perspective - Dean hurries down the creaking wooden stairs to find Cas standing in the middle of the room lost in his own thoughts, staring into empty space.
The angel barely acknowledges Dean's presence, his focus remaining somewhere off in the distance, though his face turns reflexively to track the movement as Dean advances down the steps.
"Cas?"
Wary blue eyes dart up to find Dean's, and Cas straightens, his stance becoming stiff and defensive.
Once again, he's shutting Dean out.
"They were being rather hostile up there," Dean says gently, trying to sound supportive even if he doesn't understand what's happening here. Then he gives a half-hearted snort of amusement. "Looks like Sam finally met his match. Nerds...."
"Yes, well, considering Sam's confusion regarding who the Metatron was-" Cas falters, and suddenly, he looks contrite "-which could simply be a side effect of his wall coming down, and for that, I am to blame.... Why do humans have to appropriate and objectify that which they don't understand?"
Dean decides to not engage the accusations, and instead says, "What do you mean?"
"What am I?"
"An... angel?" Dean says, giving the most obvious answer.
Cas gives a curt nod, either missing Dean's doubt or simply ignoring it, then prompts, "And you know this how?"
Dean is still not certain what point Cas is trying to make, and his frown deepens. "You don't need to eat or sleep; you can heal injuries and you bleed grace when injured; you can smite demons with that grace; you can fly - I've seen your wings-" Cas rolls his eyes and Dean pauses, his eyes narrowing as he glances at the angel.
Although Cas maintains a neutral expression, the silence abruptly becomes tense. "You've said you're an angel, many times over, which I've believed for quite a while now. You aren't upset because my brother and Kevin were fighting...."
Cas fidgets like he's been caught in a lie, and his gaze drops to the floor then flicks around the room, landing anywhere but on Dean.
"Are you upset because they're talking about halos?" Dean can't help the way his eyes widen or the incredulous tone that steals into his voice as he asks, "Do you even have a halo?"
"I do!" Cas states, still averting his eyes by glancing at the ceiling. A silvery-blue ring incandesces around his head; and it pulses, expanding and shrinking to a rhythm similar to that of a beating heart. Tendrils of light arc like plasma across the empty space and set the edge of the ring aflame.
Dean takes a step to the right, and then to the left; no matter where he stands, the halo encircles Cas' head. He can't tell whether the corona disappears behind or through the angel's shoulders, but the harder he stares the more glaring that light becomes, as though he's squinting for an indirect glimpse of the sun.
"Huh, there is no 'realistic’ perspective!'" Dean says, but the earlier discussion and Cas' problem is lost to a more immediate fascination, "Can I touch it?"
"I don't know if that's such a-" Dean moves quickly and Cas has to catch his wrist as he reaches up. "...Dean. You're a hunter. You should know better."
For a moment, Dean looks crestfallen, but an easy grin spreads across his face and he huffs, "Sorry. It's just so - and don't you dare repeat this to anyone else - beautiful. Like your wings, Cas; it's no wonder that normal humans took a liking to halos and then painted angels on every available surface."
"You act as though you're bespelled by the mere sight, but your brain is just not properly comprehending what you see." Cas glares up at Dean, then with a heavy sigh, he relaxes his grip. "If you must...."
"Not going to hurt, is it?"
Closing his eyes, Cas shakes his head. "You still have eyes after looking upon it so, no."
"It's actually harder to tell when you're joking these days," Dean points out, though he's distracted as he slips his hand through the loose grasp of Cas' fingers into the stretch between his hair and the actinic glow of the halo.
The space closest to the angel's head is hidden in shadow, and Dean's hand disappears into darkness as he lightly ruffles Cas' hair. A current runs up his arm causing the hairs there to lift, but, other than that, Dean literally feels nothing, not even the pull of gravity. Filaments of light dance about, sparking brightly and wrapping around his fingers as he draws them outward.
Dean isn't expecting it when Cas sways toward him, and his other hand shoots out to steady Cas, slipping past the hem of his trenchcoat and splaying across his hip. "You okay?"
Cas nods, his brow furrowing in thought. "That just feels... strange."
"Should I stop?"
Cas gives a quick shake of his head so Dean traces his knuckles along the inner rim of the halo. He encounters no resistance, and it doesn't actually hurt despite how much it feels like he's running his hand across a finely honed blade. When he checks, he finds no damage, no blood.
Skimming his palm along the outer edge produces a low note that sings like crystal and rattles Dean's teeth. He jerks back, breaking the contact between them, but the sound vibrates through his bones, sending his heart hammering within his chest and leaving him achingly hard as the hum fades away.
"Jesus, Cas," he gasps as his vision swims back into focus.
Cas has his fingers wrapped around Dean's wrist again but he's just barely holding on, his breathing too quick as he blinks up at the hunter with a stunned expression upon his face.
"Jesus," Dean repeats as desire, jagged and hot, sweeps through him. He bows his head, shutting out the sight so he doesn't dig his fingers in to drag Cas closer. "Do you want me to stop?"
"I-" Cas breaks off, his jaw working furiously and his eyes cast once more toward the wall like he intends to flee.
"Don't. Please, don't," Dean pleads, the words hitching in his throat because he knows it's his fault that Cas is so guarded, that he now recoils from any honest emotion. He presses a kiss to Cas' temple, whispers there, "No more - God, I am so sorry, Cas - no more running, no more hiding; never from me."
The tension drains out of Cas and he turns his face toward the hunter's, his voice returning to the low, familiar rumble Dean had grown accustomed to long ago when he says, "I am still just Castiel."
The blood rushes from Dean's face, leaving him feeling cold and exposed as he tries to pull away, but Cas refuses to let him go.
"Never again from you," Cas promises as his other hand brushes along Dean's jaw to settle firmly upon the curve of his neck, holding him in place and holding his gaze. Cas tilts his head, raises an eyebrow, and says, "Nor you from me, Dean, ever."
Dean tries to respond, his mouth dropping open around a wordless nothing, but Cas hauls him in close. For a moment they're sharing the same air before Cas leans in, erasing the last fragment of space between them to find Dean's lips with his own.
And Dean falls against him, kissing back until he's breathless and dizzy, until Dean has to pull away because he still has to breathe even if Cas doesn't.
The disappointed sound that escapes from the angel makes Dean shiver. He slides his loose hand into the field of shadows surrounding Cas, wreaking havoc upon the glowing ribbons that collect and try to catch at his skin when he thumbs at the hollow behind Cas' ear and threads fingers through his dark hair. Then, Dean is tugging until their foreheads are pressed together, and his palm slides down the column of Cas' throat to settle across his collarbone. "Do you want me to stop?"
Cas snorts, caught off-guard by the gesture, and his pulse flutters beneath Dean's hand as he turns round, serious eyes up to meet the hunter's. "No."
-----
Kevin stops suddenly, glancing around the room suspiciously as though he's just noticed Dean's absence. "Where's your brother?"
"He went after Cas." Sam replies, the line of his mouth hardening into a puzzled frown.
"That was awhile ago. Should we go check on them?" Kevin asks, looking to where Meg is cleaning her nails with the point of a knife.
"Nah," Meg answers. She's bored out of her mind so she stands up and flings the blade, embedding it into the table between Kevin's hands just to see him startle. "They have some issues they need to work through." She smiles at the confused expressions on their faces, though Meg is willing to bet good money Sam is faking it. "Being an angel's dirty work. Have to keep those halos polished somehow."
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam Winchester, Meg, Kevin Tran
Genre: angst, fluff,
Warnings: some sexual content
Rating: PG
Prompts: halo, for
angel_kink
Summary: In which Dean gets some perspective on the nature of halos, and Castiel struggles not to hide in the dark. (written for dc_summerlovin)
Sam and Kevin start arguing over religious iconography, of all things, which sends Cas flying off the moment their voices turn combative. The discussion stops at a caustic remark from Meg, and Sam and Kevin stare at the ground, chastened for having frightened the angel away. Meg shoots a pointed look at Dean. He raises a questioning brow, and she jerks her head toward the basement.
"Your boyfriend,” she says, definitively ending any further consideration of the matter.
As the discussion resumes - something about early Christian artists representing halos more accurately despite the less realistic perspective - Dean hurries down the creaking wooden stairs to find Cas standing in the middle of the room lost in his own thoughts, staring into empty space.
The angel barely acknowledges Dean's presence, his focus remaining somewhere off in the distance, though his face turns reflexively to track the movement as Dean advances down the steps.
"Cas?"
Wary blue eyes dart up to find Dean's, and Cas straightens, his stance becoming stiff and defensive.
Once again, he's shutting Dean out.
"They were being rather hostile up there," Dean says gently, trying to sound supportive even if he doesn't understand what's happening here. Then he gives a half-hearted snort of amusement. "Looks like Sam finally met his match. Nerds...."
"Yes, well, considering Sam's confusion regarding who the Metatron was-" Cas falters, and suddenly, he looks contrite "-which could simply be a side effect of his wall coming down, and for that, I am to blame.... Why do humans have to appropriate and objectify that which they don't understand?"
Dean decides to not engage the accusations, and instead says, "What do you mean?"
"What am I?"
"An... angel?" Dean says, giving the most obvious answer.
Cas gives a curt nod, either missing Dean's doubt or simply ignoring it, then prompts, "And you know this how?"
Dean is still not certain what point Cas is trying to make, and his frown deepens. "You don't need to eat or sleep; you can heal injuries and you bleed grace when injured; you can smite demons with that grace; you can fly - I've seen your wings-" Cas rolls his eyes and Dean pauses, his eyes narrowing as he glances at the angel.
Although Cas maintains a neutral expression, the silence abruptly becomes tense. "You've said you're an angel, many times over, which I've believed for quite a while now. You aren't upset because my brother and Kevin were fighting...."
Cas fidgets like he's been caught in a lie, and his gaze drops to the floor then flicks around the room, landing anywhere but on Dean.
"Are you upset because they're talking about halos?" Dean can't help the way his eyes widen or the incredulous tone that steals into his voice as he asks, "Do you even have a halo?"
"I do!" Cas states, still averting his eyes by glancing at the ceiling. A silvery-blue ring incandesces around his head; and it pulses, expanding and shrinking to a rhythm similar to that of a beating heart. Tendrils of light arc like plasma across the empty space and set the edge of the ring aflame.
Dean takes a step to the right, and then to the left; no matter where he stands, the halo encircles Cas' head. He can't tell whether the corona disappears behind or through the angel's shoulders, but the harder he stares the more glaring that light becomes, as though he's squinting for an indirect glimpse of the sun.
"Huh, there is no 'realistic’ perspective!'" Dean says, but the earlier discussion and Cas' problem is lost to a more immediate fascination, "Can I touch it?"
"I don't know if that's such a-" Dean moves quickly and Cas has to catch his wrist as he reaches up. "...Dean. You're a hunter. You should know better."
For a moment, Dean looks crestfallen, but an easy grin spreads across his face and he huffs, "Sorry. It's just so - and don't you dare repeat this to anyone else - beautiful. Like your wings, Cas; it's no wonder that normal humans took a liking to halos and then painted angels on every available surface."
"You act as though you're bespelled by the mere sight, but your brain is just not properly comprehending what you see." Cas glares up at Dean, then with a heavy sigh, he relaxes his grip. "If you must...."
"Not going to hurt, is it?"
Closing his eyes, Cas shakes his head. "You still have eyes after looking upon it so, no."
"It's actually harder to tell when you're joking these days," Dean points out, though he's distracted as he slips his hand through the loose grasp of Cas' fingers into the stretch between his hair and the actinic glow of the halo.
The space closest to the angel's head is hidden in shadow, and Dean's hand disappears into darkness as he lightly ruffles Cas' hair. A current runs up his arm causing the hairs there to lift, but, other than that, Dean literally feels nothing, not even the pull of gravity. Filaments of light dance about, sparking brightly and wrapping around his fingers as he draws them outward.
Dean isn't expecting it when Cas sways toward him, and his other hand shoots out to steady Cas, slipping past the hem of his trenchcoat and splaying across his hip. "You okay?"
Cas nods, his brow furrowing in thought. "That just feels... strange."
"Should I stop?"
Cas gives a quick shake of his head so Dean traces his knuckles along the inner rim of the halo. He encounters no resistance, and it doesn't actually hurt despite how much it feels like he's running his hand across a finely honed blade. When he checks, he finds no damage, no blood.
Skimming his palm along the outer edge produces a low note that sings like crystal and rattles Dean's teeth. He jerks back, breaking the contact between them, but the sound vibrates through his bones, sending his heart hammering within his chest and leaving him achingly hard as the hum fades away.
"Jesus, Cas," he gasps as his vision swims back into focus.
Cas has his fingers wrapped around Dean's wrist again but he's just barely holding on, his breathing too quick as he blinks up at the hunter with a stunned expression upon his face.
"Jesus," Dean repeats as desire, jagged and hot, sweeps through him. He bows his head, shutting out the sight so he doesn't dig his fingers in to drag Cas closer. "Do you want me to stop?"
"I-" Cas breaks off, his jaw working furiously and his eyes cast once more toward the wall like he intends to flee.
"Don't. Please, don't," Dean pleads, the words hitching in his throat because he knows it's his fault that Cas is so guarded, that he now recoils from any honest emotion. He presses a kiss to Cas' temple, whispers there, "No more - God, I am so sorry, Cas - no more running, no more hiding; never from me."
The tension drains out of Cas and he turns his face toward the hunter's, his voice returning to the low, familiar rumble Dean had grown accustomed to long ago when he says, "I am still just Castiel."
The blood rushes from Dean's face, leaving him feeling cold and exposed as he tries to pull away, but Cas refuses to let him go.
"Never again from you," Cas promises as his other hand brushes along Dean's jaw to settle firmly upon the curve of his neck, holding him in place and holding his gaze. Cas tilts his head, raises an eyebrow, and says, "Nor you from me, Dean, ever."
Dean tries to respond, his mouth dropping open around a wordless nothing, but Cas hauls him in close. For a moment they're sharing the same air before Cas leans in, erasing the last fragment of space between them to find Dean's lips with his own.
And Dean falls against him, kissing back until he's breathless and dizzy, until Dean has to pull away because he still has to breathe even if Cas doesn't.
The disappointed sound that escapes from the angel makes Dean shiver. He slides his loose hand into the field of shadows surrounding Cas, wreaking havoc upon the glowing ribbons that collect and try to catch at his skin when he thumbs at the hollow behind Cas' ear and threads fingers through his dark hair. Then, Dean is tugging until their foreheads are pressed together, and his palm slides down the column of Cas' throat to settle across his collarbone. "Do you want me to stop?"
Cas snorts, caught off-guard by the gesture, and his pulse flutters beneath Dean's hand as he turns round, serious eyes up to meet the hunter's. "No."
-----
Kevin stops suddenly, glancing around the room suspiciously as though he's just noticed Dean's absence. "Where's your brother?"
"He went after Cas." Sam replies, the line of his mouth hardening into a puzzled frown.
"That was awhile ago. Should we go check on them?" Kevin asks, looking to where Meg is cleaning her nails with the point of a knife.
"Nah," Meg answers. She's bored out of her mind so she stands up and flings the blade, embedding it into the table between Kevin's hands just to see him startle. "They have some issues they need to work through." She smiles at the confused expressions on their faces, though Meg is willing to bet good money Sam is faking it. "Being an angel's dirty work. Have to keep those halos polished somehow."