Fic: Falling's Not The Problem
Title:Falling's Not The Problem
Author:waywardson_lvr
Rating:PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing:Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Nope
Warnings: Nada
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except my massive desire to see Dean/Cas become canon.
Word Count: 900ish
Summary: Dean decides to fall.
A sequel to Pausing For a Minor Adjustment and Assumption
A/N: Jeebus I've had this percolating on my computer for like a year now! Title is a lyric from Florence and the Machine. Love Florence.
Dean stood in the hotel room, Sam had just left to go get some food, some beer ..whatever ...he didn't really care.
His body was mostly healed. Mostly. Just indistinct impressions of the bruises remained and he was glad for them, glad that Cas hadn't healed him completely.
Although he didn't like to admit to himself that the injuries reminded him he was still living - they did. And he knew that they did.
Christ what the hell did that say abut his life.
God he was so tired. He closed his eyes feeling the weight of his fatigue tugging on his head. It seemed like even gravity was his fucking enemy now.
He dragged a hand across his face and doubted that he could feel more alone if he was the last person on earth.
Shrugging off his t-shirt he stood near the window, not looking outside but at the shitty hotel room wall. The setting sun was angling in through the window and filling the room with rich and golden light, reflecting off the sweat on his body, a constant reminder of yet another ridiculously hot day. It was as though the warmth was omnipresent and it reminded Dean of Hell. Well, parts of Hell.
When Castiel appeared a few feet behind him Dean didn't turn around and he wasn't surprised. His coming and going had become as familiar as slipping into the driver's seat of the Impala and just like driving his baby, the angel's presence both relaxed him and set his heart racing.
He drew in a long slow breath and let it go, clearing his mind enough (hopefully) that he could open his eyes and remain in control of his own thoughts.
The low sunlight cast horizontal lines from the cheap plastic blinds, painting the walls with their soft edged shadows as Dean fingered the hem of the t-shirt he was still holding.
"I see you are nearly recovered." Castiel whispered from his position across the room.
"Yeah." Dean replied tossing the shirt onto his bed.
He remained still, his back to Castiel, silently teetering on the edge of the now all too familiar cliff in his thoughts.
"Where've you been Cas?" he asked quietly.
"You saved us, you stayed...you stayed with me and then you were gone."
He lifted his eyes to study the faded picture above one of the sagging hotel beds.
Dean's sharp intake of breath when Castiel replied from directly behind him echoed loudly in his own ears over the quiet stillness of the room.
"I stayed but...I couldn't..." Castiel paused, sounding confused. Frustrated.
"I needed a little...perspective."
"...Dean."
The angels breath caressed the back of Dean's neck as softly as the name had fallen from his lips and he couldn't move.
Twenty-odd years of game and now he was rendered basically useless by the hesitant whispers of a being almost as incapable of expressing real emotion as he was.
Jump he thought to himself.
Just fucking jump.
"When you say my name...I almost believe I really exist." He shook his head and huffed a soft laugh. "Most of the time I feel like this sad memory of someone that once had a purpose."
He swallowed, visualising the precipice he had been avoiding so determinedly up until now. It was a long way down.
"Say my name again Cas? Remind me I'm alive?."
He took a breath and stepped into the void.
Geronimo.
"Please?."
He closed his eyes, falling silently in his mind, feeling the swift descent steal the air from his body.
He waited, suspended as his own personal demons allowed him to wallow in the fear that the angel would leave again or worse, that he would totally blow off his quiet request.
"Dean..." Castiel whispered, his voice was gentle.
Breath came back to the hunter's body in a rush, filling his lungs painfully.
"Dean..." His soft lips followed the curling heat of his breath as they brushed gently against the back of the hunter's neck ..
Dean exhaled long and slow as Castiel continued caressing his neck with kisses so tender it almost hurt.
A moan escaped his lips and he wasn't going to admit to himself that he had started trembling.
"Dean..." pale fingers trailed down Dean's arm leaving delicate lines in the sheen of sweat that shimmered over his body.
"Dean..." warm breath, soft lips brushed his ear.
Castiel wrapped an arm around Dean's waist and the hunter almost wilted against him.
"I will always be here for you Dean", the angel murmured quietly.
Cas turned Dean to face him, blue eyes searching for a sign that the hunter believed him, that he understood just how precious he was.
Dean was plummeting, falling head first and it was only now he became aware that he wasn't afraid anymore. He should have realised that Castiel was always going to be his soft place to land. He reached for the angel's face, brushing his cheek cautiously with fingers that had miraculously stopped trembling.
Funny, he thought, certainty will do that to you I suppose.
Hesitating for a brief moment as he contemplated how long it had taken him to fall, Dean pressed his lips to Castiel's, moaning softly as he did so - and landed.
(Bonus points if you can spot the Kelly Clarkson Lyric that I bastardised - lols!)
Author:waywardson_lvr
Rating:PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing:Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Nope
Warnings: Nada
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except my massive desire to see Dean/Cas become canon.
Word Count: 900ish
Summary: Dean decides to fall.
A sequel to Pausing For a Minor Adjustment and Assumption
A/N: Jeebus I've had this percolating on my computer for like a year now! Title is a lyric from Florence and the Machine. Love Florence.
Dean stood in the hotel room, Sam had just left to go get some food, some beer ..whatever ...he didn't really care.
His body was mostly healed. Mostly. Just indistinct impressions of the bruises remained and he was glad for them, glad that Cas hadn't healed him completely.
Although he didn't like to admit to himself that the injuries reminded him he was still living - they did. And he knew that they did.
Christ what the hell did that say abut his life.
God he was so tired. He closed his eyes feeling the weight of his fatigue tugging on his head. It seemed like even gravity was his fucking enemy now.
He dragged a hand across his face and doubted that he could feel more alone if he was the last person on earth.
Shrugging off his t-shirt he stood near the window, not looking outside but at the shitty hotel room wall. The setting sun was angling in through the window and filling the room with rich and golden light, reflecting off the sweat on his body, a constant reminder of yet another ridiculously hot day. It was as though the warmth was omnipresent and it reminded Dean of Hell. Well, parts of Hell.
When Castiel appeared a few feet behind him Dean didn't turn around and he wasn't surprised. His coming and going had become as familiar as slipping into the driver's seat of the Impala and just like driving his baby, the angel's presence both relaxed him and set his heart racing.
He drew in a long slow breath and let it go, clearing his mind enough (hopefully) that he could open his eyes and remain in control of his own thoughts.
The low sunlight cast horizontal lines from the cheap plastic blinds, painting the walls with their soft edged shadows as Dean fingered the hem of the t-shirt he was still holding.
"I see you are nearly recovered." Castiel whispered from his position across the room.
"Yeah." Dean replied tossing the shirt onto his bed.
He remained still, his back to Castiel, silently teetering on the edge of the now all too familiar cliff in his thoughts.
"Where've you been Cas?" he asked quietly.
"You saved us, you stayed...you stayed with me and then you were gone."
He lifted his eyes to study the faded picture above one of the sagging hotel beds.
Dean's sharp intake of breath when Castiel replied from directly behind him echoed loudly in his own ears over the quiet stillness of the room.
"I stayed but...I couldn't..." Castiel paused, sounding confused. Frustrated.
"I needed a little...perspective."
"...Dean."
The angels breath caressed the back of Dean's neck as softly as the name had fallen from his lips and he couldn't move.
Twenty-odd years of game and now he was rendered basically useless by the hesitant whispers of a being almost as incapable of expressing real emotion as he was.
Jump he thought to himself.
Just fucking jump.
"When you say my name...I almost believe I really exist." He shook his head and huffed a soft laugh. "Most of the time I feel like this sad memory of someone that once had a purpose."
He swallowed, visualising the precipice he had been avoiding so determinedly up until now. It was a long way down.
"Say my name again Cas? Remind me I'm alive?."
He took a breath and stepped into the void.
Geronimo.
"Please?."
He closed his eyes, falling silently in his mind, feeling the swift descent steal the air from his body.
He waited, suspended as his own personal demons allowed him to wallow in the fear that the angel would leave again or worse, that he would totally blow off his quiet request.
"Dean..." Castiel whispered, his voice was gentle.
Breath came back to the hunter's body in a rush, filling his lungs painfully.
"Dean..." His soft lips followed the curling heat of his breath as they brushed gently against the back of the hunter's neck ..
Dean exhaled long and slow as Castiel continued caressing his neck with kisses so tender it almost hurt.
A moan escaped his lips and he wasn't going to admit to himself that he had started trembling.
"Dean..." pale fingers trailed down Dean's arm leaving delicate lines in the sheen of sweat that shimmered over his body.
"Dean..." warm breath, soft lips brushed his ear.
Castiel wrapped an arm around Dean's waist and the hunter almost wilted against him.
"I will always be here for you Dean", the angel murmured quietly.
Cas turned Dean to face him, blue eyes searching for a sign that the hunter believed him, that he understood just how precious he was.
Dean was plummeting, falling head first and it was only now he became aware that he wasn't afraid anymore. He should have realised that Castiel was always going to be his soft place to land. He reached for the angel's face, brushing his cheek cautiously with fingers that had miraculously stopped trembling.
Funny, he thought, certainty will do that to you I suppose.
Hesitating for a brief moment as he contemplated how long it had taken him to fall, Dean pressed his lips to Castiel's, moaning softly as he did so - and landed.
(Bonus points if you can spot the Kelly Clarkson Lyric that I bastardised - lols!)