Ficlet - Screwing the Consequences
Title: Screwing the Consequences
Author: tooearlyforthis
Pairings: Demon!Dean/Castiel
Rating: G
Word Count: 1k
Summary: Castiel wants to make a deal.
Crossposted from: Tumblr
Castiel sauntered as casually as he could into the bunker's dungeon, sliding the heavy door behind him shut with a flick of his wrist.
Dean's dark eyes gleamed in the candlelight, and Castiel's casual facade faltered for a moment.
The demon he once knew as The Righteous Man was smothered in charmed chains, under and over two Devil's Traps with additional sigils drawn in each circle, and smiling through his makeshift gag. Sam had warned him of Dean's condition, told him to expect more than the worst, but this - this surpassed Castiel's expectations.
He walked over to the centre of the traps to where Dean was on his knees, and bent to pull the damp material out of his mouth.
"There's my angel," the demon - Dean - drawled with a thick southern twang, a hollow smile still strung on his writhing features. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Sam told me you tried to decapitate him with an axe."
Dean laughed, derisive and delighted.
"What can I say, I was tryn'a see if he could be any more brainless."
Castiel narrowed his eyes. "You don't mean that."
"And you know me so well," said Dean, tilting his head and smirking.
The light caught his hair, which was longer than when Castiel saw him last, and...poofy, for lack of a better word. Dean's tongue flicked out, and a lick of his lips culminated in a bite of them. Black eyes dissolved into green, though Dean could not dissolve his new face into his old one.
It was the only reminder Castiel had. That, and the carnal nature Dean had given into. He was sizzling without the holy water, and loving every burn.
"You know what he did, right? My little brother, while he was looking for me?"
I am aware," said Castiel evenly.
"Ohhh, you are," replied Dean with a sarcastic nod. "So why aren't you locking him up right next to me? Why aren't you locking him up instead of me?"
"Sam is not a demon."
"No, but he is a monster. C'mon, Cas, admit it. The things he did, the things he liked doing...it makes you think, doesn't it?"
Castiel thought. He had thought and thought since he had learnt of the sins of both brothers, but he always came to the same conclusion. "Neither of you are monsters."
Smiling widely and shaking his head as much as he could, Dean replied, “We’re all monsters, Cas. You, me, Sam, even Mother friggin’ Teresa. You just gotta know what to remove.”
So Dean thought he was a monster because his humanity was stolen from him by Metatron’s blade. But if Dean’s humanity was removed, then how was Castiel still in love with him?
He felt the full brunt of frustration for the first time since he was a human, and tried to swallow it. If it were just Dean seeing the lump in his throat, he would ignore it, but seeing as Dean had been warped beyond all recognition, he would exploit it as much as possible. And Castiel couldn’t have that. He couldn’t take it.
“You didn’t want to become this, so why are you determined to stay so?”
Dean rolled his oil-slicked eyes. "Y'know, I'm disappointed in you, angel. I thought if anyone would understand, it would be the guy who turned God for a while."
"Is that what you think you are? A God?"
Dean shrugged in his chains.
A monster. A God. What else did Dean think he was? Castiel knew one thing about Dean for sure, and that was that he was a contradiction.
It was almost pleasant that that hadn’t changed about him.
“You may think you’re a God, but you are still Dean Winchester. You were a righteous man once, and you can become one again. Somewhere, there is -”
"I don't care,” Dean interrupted in a groan, with another groan for good measure, “and you know what? It's refreshing. To not be held down by all these issues - and so many issues - to do what I what and screw the consequences."
"Doing what you want and screwing the consequences is not a new habit for you, Dean."
Dean laughed sardonically. “Why’re you really here, Cas? ‘Cause I know you don’t think I’m gonna give a heartfelt apology to my little brother for the whole axe thing.”
"I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse," said Castiel, his words construing confidence he didn’t have.
"Oh yeah, Metatron did a pop-cultural number on you, didn't he. Sorry to disappoint, but I don't do deals. I'm just your run of the mill, kill for the thrill of it kind of demon."
"I don't think you heard me correctly. I'm going to make you an offer you cannot refuse."
"Try me," sneered Dean.
"You don't harm Sam in any way, and I will grant you your freedom.”
It was something that Castiel had mulled over for a long time. Dean couldn’t be trusted in the bunker, not when the limits of his demonic powers were unknown, and not where Sam was susceptible to them. Dean couldn’t be trusted out in the world either, but Castiel had a plan: free Dean, learn his movements and abilities, and find a way to cure him. That could not be done within a cell.
Dean stared curiously up at Castiel, and slit his eyes as he traced his pillowy lips with his tongue.
“Deal,” he said, his voice all golden syrup. “Now get down here and kiss me.”
One echoing step at a time, Castiel walked between Dean’s parted knees. With two fingers, he lifted Dean’s determined chin, and bent to meet his lips.
A click of the fingers on his free hand had Dean standing and kissing back with fervour, and if Castiel didn’t know better he would think that Dean had more than two hands. They grasping in his hair, stroking against the grain of his stubble, grabbing his buttocks, and roaming around his torso as if they were lost and without a map.
It was all contradictory; dirty and divine, pure and sinful, Heaven and Hell. It was Dean.
With one hand still kneading Castiel’s right buttock, Dean slid the other up to his neck and gently gnawed on the lobe of Castiel’s ear.
“To be continued, angel,” he purred into it before slapping Castiel’s ass and leaving him with nothing but the rustle of a cool breeze.
A bolt of something human struck Castiel’s heart, and since sealing his deal, he had his first coherent thought.
So that’s how it feels.
Author: tooearlyforthis
Pairings: Demon!Dean/Castiel
Rating: G
Word Count: 1k
Summary: Castiel wants to make a deal.
Crossposted from: Tumblr
Castiel sauntered as casually as he could into the bunker's dungeon, sliding the heavy door behind him shut with a flick of his wrist.
Dean's dark eyes gleamed in the candlelight, and Castiel's casual facade faltered for a moment.
The demon he once knew as The Righteous Man was smothered in charmed chains, under and over two Devil's Traps with additional sigils drawn in each circle, and smiling through his makeshift gag. Sam had warned him of Dean's condition, told him to expect more than the worst, but this - this surpassed Castiel's expectations.
He walked over to the centre of the traps to where Dean was on his knees, and bent to pull the damp material out of his mouth.
"There's my angel," the demon - Dean - drawled with a thick southern twang, a hollow smile still strung on his writhing features. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Sam told me you tried to decapitate him with an axe."
Dean laughed, derisive and delighted.
"What can I say, I was tryn'a see if he could be any more brainless."
Castiel narrowed his eyes. "You don't mean that."
"And you know me so well," said Dean, tilting his head and smirking.
The light caught his hair, which was longer than when Castiel saw him last, and...poofy, for lack of a better word. Dean's tongue flicked out, and a lick of his lips culminated in a bite of them. Black eyes dissolved into green, though Dean could not dissolve his new face into his old one.
It was the only reminder Castiel had. That, and the carnal nature Dean had given into. He was sizzling without the holy water, and loving every burn.
"You know what he did, right? My little brother, while he was looking for me?"
I am aware," said Castiel evenly.
"Ohhh, you are," replied Dean with a sarcastic nod. "So why aren't you locking him up right next to me? Why aren't you locking him up instead of me?"
"Sam is not a demon."
"No, but he is a monster. C'mon, Cas, admit it. The things he did, the things he liked doing...it makes you think, doesn't it?"
Castiel thought. He had thought and thought since he had learnt of the sins of both brothers, but he always came to the same conclusion. "Neither of you are monsters."
Smiling widely and shaking his head as much as he could, Dean replied, “We’re all monsters, Cas. You, me, Sam, even Mother friggin’ Teresa. You just gotta know what to remove.”
So Dean thought he was a monster because his humanity was stolen from him by Metatron’s blade. But if Dean’s humanity was removed, then how was Castiel still in love with him?
He felt the full brunt of frustration for the first time since he was a human, and tried to swallow it. If it were just Dean seeing the lump in his throat, he would ignore it, but seeing as Dean had been warped beyond all recognition, he would exploit it as much as possible. And Castiel couldn’t have that. He couldn’t take it.
“You didn’t want to become this, so why are you determined to stay so?”
Dean rolled his oil-slicked eyes. "Y'know, I'm disappointed in you, angel. I thought if anyone would understand, it would be the guy who turned God for a while."
"Is that what you think you are? A God?"
Dean shrugged in his chains.
A monster. A God. What else did Dean think he was? Castiel knew one thing about Dean for sure, and that was that he was a contradiction.
It was almost pleasant that that hadn’t changed about him.
“You may think you’re a God, but you are still Dean Winchester. You were a righteous man once, and you can become one again. Somewhere, there is -”
"I don't care,” Dean interrupted in a groan, with another groan for good measure, “and you know what? It's refreshing. To not be held down by all these issues - and so many issues - to do what I what and screw the consequences."
"Doing what you want and screwing the consequences is not a new habit for you, Dean."
Dean laughed sardonically. “Why’re you really here, Cas? ‘Cause I know you don’t think I’m gonna give a heartfelt apology to my little brother for the whole axe thing.”
"I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse," said Castiel, his words construing confidence he didn’t have.
"Oh yeah, Metatron did a pop-cultural number on you, didn't he. Sorry to disappoint, but I don't do deals. I'm just your run of the mill, kill for the thrill of it kind of demon."
"I don't think you heard me correctly. I'm going to make you an offer you cannot refuse."
"Try me," sneered Dean.
"You don't harm Sam in any way, and I will grant you your freedom.”
It was something that Castiel had mulled over for a long time. Dean couldn’t be trusted in the bunker, not when the limits of his demonic powers were unknown, and not where Sam was susceptible to them. Dean couldn’t be trusted out in the world either, but Castiel had a plan: free Dean, learn his movements and abilities, and find a way to cure him. That could not be done within a cell.
Dean stared curiously up at Castiel, and slit his eyes as he traced his pillowy lips with his tongue.
“Deal,” he said, his voice all golden syrup. “Now get down here and kiss me.”
One echoing step at a time, Castiel walked between Dean’s parted knees. With two fingers, he lifted Dean’s determined chin, and bent to meet his lips.
A click of the fingers on his free hand had Dean standing and kissing back with fervour, and if Castiel didn’t know better he would think that Dean had more than two hands. They grasping in his hair, stroking against the grain of his stubble, grabbing his buttocks, and roaming around his torso as if they were lost and without a map.
It was all contradictory; dirty and divine, pure and sinful, Heaven and Hell. It was Dean.
With one hand still kneading Castiel’s right buttock, Dean slid the other up to his neck and gently gnawed on the lobe of Castiel’s ear.
“To be continued, angel,” he purred into it before slapping Castiel’s ass and leaving him with nothing but the rustle of a cool breeze.
A bolt of something human struck Castiel’s heart, and since sealing his deal, he had his first coherent thought.
So that’s how it feels.