Shameless blanket scenario time
Title: Car Heaters > Fireplaces
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Summary: Friggin werewolves in friggin Wisconsin. [blanket scenario lol]
"Fucking Wisconsin. Really? You couldn't pick anywhere that's at least above friggin zero right now? What the hell is this. Wrath of the abominable werewolf part three?" Dean snarled, toeing his way around the edge of the frozen lake. It was the same lake that currently impeded his escape from the particularly vicious werewolf that had decided it would risk a silver bullet for a taste of Dean's flesh. Cursing when his boot slipped, Dean lost his footing on the snowy bank’s incline and went sliding onto the ice. His gloved hands grappled uselessly at the snowy surface, sliding a good five feet onto the ice before he could stop himself. The fall had caused Dean to lose his grip on the gun he’d been holding, a curse tearing from his mouth when it clattered across the frozen lake. He looked up just in time to see the werewolf leap onto the frozen lake, sending cracks spiderwebbing out from its paws.
The beast seemed unaffected, moving quickly but swiftly towards Dean, but not lingering long enough to fully break the ice underfoot. Dean - sprawled on a stronger fraction of ice, grabbed for his gun and grunted when his right knee slipped and a wrench of pain shot through his groin at the half-split that resulted.
"Cas, where the FUCK are you." He hissed to himself rolling onto his back and tearing his backup knife from his hip just in time to block the set of jaws that had been descending on him. The werewolf snarled, biting at the knife and apparently oblivious to the fact that Dean had sliced through half of its jaw. It snarled and growled, snapping blood all over the hunter's face.
Grimacing in disgust, Dean lifted his legs, snow boots hooking underneath the animal's ribs and kicking with enough might to throw the wolf off. Dean huffed, rolling over and wiping blood from his cheek and forehead, grimacing upon realizing all he'd done was smear it with the snow that had been covering his glove. The werewolf seemed to have regained its footing and Dean scrambled across the snow-covered ice, fingers brushing the edge of his gun whenever the wolf lunged once more.
Dean's gloved hands grabbed onto the wolf's muzzle before it could bite him, gripping its lower jaw in one hand and snout in the other.
"I am here." Castiel's voice announced loudly from the edge of the lake. Dean glanced over to see Castiel standing there awkwardly with a knife in one hand and looking particularly cold. Dean, had he not been in the middle of wrestling with a werewolf nearly twice his size, would have been exasperated that - despite now being human - Castiel still couldn't figure out how to at least take better care of his body.
"That's great, Cassie. Could you be a sweetheart and at least gimme a friggin’ hand here?!" Dean huffed, the muscles in his arms straining to keep the wolf from biting down. He lashed a leg out, kicking at the beast's hind leg as blood continued oozing onto the ice and Dean's jacket.
"I thought you wanted the knife?" Castiel said, more than asked. Dean roared in frustration, regretting it when drops of blood splattered across the corner of his mouth. He spat against the ice in an instant, wincing at the feel of the werewolf's teeth against his hands-- even through the thick layer of his winter gloves. Dean wriggled, kicking at the wolf's side until it stumbled and Dean was able to knock it down and roll his body weight on top of the monster.
"Cas, just gimme the godamn knife!" He snapped, purposefully ignoring Castiel's miffed look as the now-human glanced between Dean and the silver-tipped knife in his hand, arm wavering for a moment like he was debating throwing it. After a second of hearing Dean's struggles, Castiel semi-awkwardly slid his way down the icy bank and onto the snow, taking exactly three steps forward before walking onto the cracked ice patch that the wolf had caused earlier. Dean had exactly two seconds to hear the crack and Castiel's soft noise of startlement before the sound of breaking ice and splashing startled the hunter into nearly having his fingers bitten off.
"Cas!" Dean roared, wrenching his hands from the werewolf's mouth before he was bitten. His heart stilled for a few solid beats before the adrenaline began to kick in and Dean was using the wolf's body as leverage to lunge across the ice, sliding and slipping for purchase until his fingers closed around his gun. He heard the wolf snarling, and whirled around just in time to avoid having his arm bitten off. He slipped, falling to the ice and throwing his arm up to empty three silver bullets into the werewolf - two in the flank and then one in the head when Dean finally got a decent shot. The animal was down in an instant and Dean took a few seconds to regain his breath before his mind caught up with him and he whipped his head around to the hole of ice nearly across the lake.
"CAS!" Dean knew it was rather pointless to yell the name of someone who was most likely drowning in half-frozen water, but it was the only thing he could do while scrambling to his feet and slipping again. He reached out, using the dead werewolf's body to help regain his footing and using it to ground himself, shoving it so that he went sliding across the ice and towards the nearby bank. He hit the snowy shore and was instantly running for the hole that Castiel had disappeared into.
"Jesus FUCK, Cas." Dean breathed to himself, desperately trying not to mentally tally the time it had been since the newly-human Castiel had gone under. He skidded across the ice, barely stopping himself away from the break in time. He dropped to his knees, inching forward as quickly as he could to plunge his arm into the water. He cursed, wrenching his hand back out and using his teeth to catch the tip of his glove’s finger and tear it off his shaking hand. The hunter’s eyes were prickling, but Dean blamed the cold weather and not the growing panic and fear in his chest as his fingers instantly stiffened and numbed against the icy water upon plunging it back in. Dean barely felt the brush of Castiel's ugly trenchcoat against his thumb before he was grabbing it and wrenching his arm back with a cry.
"Ch-christ, Cas." Dean stammered, ignoring the shudder that tore through his own body as he wrenched Castiel onto the ice. Relief was overcome with terror when he realized Castiel wasn't choking or gasping for air. "Oh hell no." Dean cursed, dragging Castiel up onto the snowy bank and shoving his hands onto the man's stomach. Nothing happened, and Dean pinched Cas's nose, mouth closing over the icy lips underneath of him and forcing air into Castiel's mouth. He did it three more times before leaning back and shoving his hands against Castiel's chest in a desperate set of compressions. Castiel's body jerked, throat fluctuating before water oozed from his mouth and the former angel's eyes flew open just as Dean forced him on his side and Castiel threw up a lungful of icewater.
Dean shivered, and he could feel Castiel shaking violently under his hand as he rubbed the man's back through his violent heaving. Castiel's naked hands clawed at the snowfall, skin nearly blue with cold. His eyes were wide and pained, as if he had no idea what his body was doing to him. He heaved dryly for a few more moments - painful retches that had his entire body curling up into itself. Dean stood, fingers digging into Castiel's sopping wet trenchcoat and trying to pull him to his feet.
"Hey- hey. Cas... Come on man. You gotta get up." He gasped out, trying to ignore his own cold shivers in lieu of getting Castiel to the Impala. Castiel released the most pained noise Dean had ever heard from his friend, body shaking so bad that it was frightening Dean to a degree that the hunter refused to dwell on.
"I h-ha-ave n-neh-ehv-ver r-recall- called-d -- " Castiel began to stammer, only to be silenced whenever Dean hunched down and grabbed the former angel in a vice grip, forcing him to stand and cursing loudly when Castiel's legs buckled and almost pulled both men to the ground. Dean swore, dragging one of Castiel's arms over his shoulder.
"Come on, Cas. You gotta stay with me. Are you seriously going to come back to life after the devil /blew you up/ just to die of some measly friggin hypothermia?" Dean growled weakly, his fingers tight around Castiel's arm and hip. Castiel's head slumped for a moment, full-body tremors tearing through each one of his nerves and his breath coming in raggedly.
"M-my ap-ppologies-s D-d- d- eean." Castiel muttered, jaw clicking loudly with each painful shudder that caused his teeth to bump together and his throat to fluctuate. Dean dragged them up the small hill and to where the Impala was parked on the edge of a small forest. Thankful that he'd forgotten to lock the car, for once, Dean forced Castiel to lean up against the Impala just long enough that Dean could wrench the door open, turn on the ignition and crank up the heat. He stood up, trembling hands tugging at Castiel's trenchcoat and wrenching it off of the shorter man. Castiel looked like a drowned kitten, shivering and watching Dean with wide eyes, only to have himself shoved into Impala.
He stumbled, falling across the three front seats and turning to inquire Dean as to what was going on, when he caught sight of Dean clambering in after him and slamming the door to the Impala shut. "There's no friggin motel for miles." Dean cursed, hands going to pull off Castiel's suit jacket, heedless of the fact that Castiel was half laying underneath of him and shaking.
"D-Dean-n?" Castiel breathed, watching Dean's stiff fingers mess with the sopping wet tie that hung loose around Castiel's neck. Dean cursed, wrenching at the blasted thing and throwing it into the back seat. "Take your shirt off." He snapped, climbing on top of Castiel to reach into the back seat and fumbling around with one of the duffle bags that had been tossed there previously. Castiel breathed out shakily, fingers unable to even grip at the top button as he battled with the urge to fall asleep.
Dean sat back, a thick fleece blanket in his hand and his eyes narrowing at the way Castiel's hands were flopped uselessly in his wet lap. "Cas." He snapped, jarring the former angel out of his daze. "I thought I told you to unbutton your shirt." He tried to tone down the nervous edge to his voice, but when Castiel's shaking face stared up at him through dripping- wet hair, Dean swore softly to himself.
"Cas, I know how much I tell you sleep is a great thing, but right now sleeping is the LAST thing you want to do." He snapped, reaching out and ruffling Castiel's hair so violently that droplets of icy water sprayed everywhere. The heater had already started to kick in, but Castiel didn't seem to be getting any better. He draped the blanket over the steering wheel, wrenching his jacket off and throwing it into the back before tearing at Castiel's shirt. Obviously buttons were a bigger bother than Dean had previously anticipated. Castiel drew in a sharp breath, staring at Dean in confusion, but seeming to realize that the man was going what was required of the situation - thus stayed silent.
"This is so gay. this is so friggin gay." Dean growled to himself, fumbling with Castiel's belt and pants. "Cas, pick your ass up." He said, tugging at the slacks insistently. Castiel squirmed, but his shaking hadn't lessened in the slightest, therefore it was more of a wiggle than anything. It was enough, however, and Dean was able to wrench the wet pants off of his friend and toss them with everything else. Thankfully, the pants were big enough that they pulled over Castiel's shoes easily, though the ex-angel's footwear was the next thing to go. Both wet socks hit the back window with a dull thwack that went ignored.
Faced with the final obstacle, Dean stared at the simple green boxer-briefs that clung wetly to Castiel's thighs and crotch. "I really wish that whole no-gender thing translated over to the Earthly plane too." His eyes shot heavenward for a moment. "Sorry, Jimmy. This is totally your fault for saying 'yes' in the first place anyway, dude." Dean glanced back down, fingers grabbing the elastic of Castiel's underwear and pulling them off. Castiel didn't seem to understand the intimacy of the moment in the same manner as Dean did, given that he was staring at the hunter the entire time the other man was stripping him.
He did - however - seem to shiver a smidgeon less the second that he was free of his icy clothing prison.
Dean grabbed the blanket off the steering wheel, shaking it out and draping it over Castiel before he set about taking his own wet clothing off. Dean was halfway to tugging his pants down when he realized he had no physical way of getting into the backseat, nor did they have a second blanket.
"... son of a bitch."
"S-something wr-wrong, D-D-Dean?" Castiel stammered, his teeth still clicking loudly with each bodily tremor he underwent. Dean looked at Castiel and then to himself before he finished sliding his pants down, leaving them in a pile under the steering wheel with his socks and boots.
"No." Dean snapped, grateful that his boxers hadn't been dampened from the snow or ice so that he could retain some form of dignity in their current predicament. He shifted, hands pressing against Castiel's shoulders through the blanket covering the shivering man, and moving him slightly against the seat backs so that there was room for Dean to maneuver himself properly. He pulled the blanket up, the car already significantly warm, thanks to the heater, and half-draped himself on top of Castiel's body.
Castiel froze and Dean froze with him.
"What?" Dean barked. "There's only one friggin blanket and I'm not going to freeze my cajones off just cause you can't handle a little PDA." He snarled. Castiel stared at Dean with an unreadable expression for a moment, though his normally stoic demeanor was greatly hindered by the cold trembles that tore through the thin man's body.
currently unfinished. Will come back to finish later. maybe.
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Summary: Friggin werewolves in friggin Wisconsin. [blanket scenario lol]
"Fucking Wisconsin. Really? You couldn't pick anywhere that's at least above friggin zero right now? What the hell is this. Wrath of the abominable werewolf part three?" Dean snarled, toeing his way around the edge of the frozen lake. It was the same lake that currently impeded his escape from the particularly vicious werewolf that had decided it would risk a silver bullet for a taste of Dean's flesh. Cursing when his boot slipped, Dean lost his footing on the snowy bank’s incline and went sliding onto the ice. His gloved hands grappled uselessly at the snowy surface, sliding a good five feet onto the ice before he could stop himself. The fall had caused Dean to lose his grip on the gun he’d been holding, a curse tearing from his mouth when it clattered across the frozen lake. He looked up just in time to see the werewolf leap onto the frozen lake, sending cracks spiderwebbing out from its paws.
The beast seemed unaffected, moving quickly but swiftly towards Dean, but not lingering long enough to fully break the ice underfoot. Dean - sprawled on a stronger fraction of ice, grabbed for his gun and grunted when his right knee slipped and a wrench of pain shot through his groin at the half-split that resulted.
"Cas, where the FUCK are you." He hissed to himself rolling onto his back and tearing his backup knife from his hip just in time to block the set of jaws that had been descending on him. The werewolf snarled, biting at the knife and apparently oblivious to the fact that Dean had sliced through half of its jaw. It snarled and growled, snapping blood all over the hunter's face.
Grimacing in disgust, Dean lifted his legs, snow boots hooking underneath the animal's ribs and kicking with enough might to throw the wolf off. Dean huffed, rolling over and wiping blood from his cheek and forehead, grimacing upon realizing all he'd done was smear it with the snow that had been covering his glove. The werewolf seemed to have regained its footing and Dean scrambled across the snow-covered ice, fingers brushing the edge of his gun whenever the wolf lunged once more.
Dean's gloved hands grabbed onto the wolf's muzzle before it could bite him, gripping its lower jaw in one hand and snout in the other.
"I am here." Castiel's voice announced loudly from the edge of the lake. Dean glanced over to see Castiel standing there awkwardly with a knife in one hand and looking particularly cold. Dean, had he not been in the middle of wrestling with a werewolf nearly twice his size, would have been exasperated that - despite now being human - Castiel still couldn't figure out how to at least take better care of his body.
"That's great, Cassie. Could you be a sweetheart and at least gimme a friggin’ hand here?!" Dean huffed, the muscles in his arms straining to keep the wolf from biting down. He lashed a leg out, kicking at the beast's hind leg as blood continued oozing onto the ice and Dean's jacket.
"I thought you wanted the knife?" Castiel said, more than asked. Dean roared in frustration, regretting it when drops of blood splattered across the corner of his mouth. He spat against the ice in an instant, wincing at the feel of the werewolf's teeth against his hands-- even through the thick layer of his winter gloves. Dean wriggled, kicking at the wolf's side until it stumbled and Dean was able to knock it down and roll his body weight on top of the monster.
"Cas, just gimme the godamn knife!" He snapped, purposefully ignoring Castiel's miffed look as the now-human glanced between Dean and the silver-tipped knife in his hand, arm wavering for a moment like he was debating throwing it. After a second of hearing Dean's struggles, Castiel semi-awkwardly slid his way down the icy bank and onto the snow, taking exactly three steps forward before walking onto the cracked ice patch that the wolf had caused earlier. Dean had exactly two seconds to hear the crack and Castiel's soft noise of startlement before the sound of breaking ice and splashing startled the hunter into nearly having his fingers bitten off.
"Cas!" Dean roared, wrenching his hands from the werewolf's mouth before he was bitten. His heart stilled for a few solid beats before the adrenaline began to kick in and Dean was using the wolf's body as leverage to lunge across the ice, sliding and slipping for purchase until his fingers closed around his gun. He heard the wolf snarling, and whirled around just in time to avoid having his arm bitten off. He slipped, falling to the ice and throwing his arm up to empty three silver bullets into the werewolf - two in the flank and then one in the head when Dean finally got a decent shot. The animal was down in an instant and Dean took a few seconds to regain his breath before his mind caught up with him and he whipped his head around to the hole of ice nearly across the lake.
"CAS!" Dean knew it was rather pointless to yell the name of someone who was most likely drowning in half-frozen water, but it was the only thing he could do while scrambling to his feet and slipping again. He reached out, using the dead werewolf's body to help regain his footing and using it to ground himself, shoving it so that he went sliding across the ice and towards the nearby bank. He hit the snowy shore and was instantly running for the hole that Castiel had disappeared into.
"Jesus FUCK, Cas." Dean breathed to himself, desperately trying not to mentally tally the time it had been since the newly-human Castiel had gone under. He skidded across the ice, barely stopping himself away from the break in time. He dropped to his knees, inching forward as quickly as he could to plunge his arm into the water. He cursed, wrenching his hand back out and using his teeth to catch the tip of his glove’s finger and tear it off his shaking hand. The hunter’s eyes were prickling, but Dean blamed the cold weather and not the growing panic and fear in his chest as his fingers instantly stiffened and numbed against the icy water upon plunging it back in. Dean barely felt the brush of Castiel's ugly trenchcoat against his thumb before he was grabbing it and wrenching his arm back with a cry.
"Ch-christ, Cas." Dean stammered, ignoring the shudder that tore through his own body as he wrenched Castiel onto the ice. Relief was overcome with terror when he realized Castiel wasn't choking or gasping for air. "Oh hell no." Dean cursed, dragging Castiel up onto the snowy bank and shoving his hands onto the man's stomach. Nothing happened, and Dean pinched Cas's nose, mouth closing over the icy lips underneath of him and forcing air into Castiel's mouth. He did it three more times before leaning back and shoving his hands against Castiel's chest in a desperate set of compressions. Castiel's body jerked, throat fluctuating before water oozed from his mouth and the former angel's eyes flew open just as Dean forced him on his side and Castiel threw up a lungful of icewater.
Dean shivered, and he could feel Castiel shaking violently under his hand as he rubbed the man's back through his violent heaving. Castiel's naked hands clawed at the snowfall, skin nearly blue with cold. His eyes were wide and pained, as if he had no idea what his body was doing to him. He heaved dryly for a few more moments - painful retches that had his entire body curling up into itself. Dean stood, fingers digging into Castiel's sopping wet trenchcoat and trying to pull him to his feet.
"Hey- hey. Cas... Come on man. You gotta get up." He gasped out, trying to ignore his own cold shivers in lieu of getting Castiel to the Impala. Castiel released the most pained noise Dean had ever heard from his friend, body shaking so bad that it was frightening Dean to a degree that the hunter refused to dwell on.
"I h-ha-ave n-neh-ehv-ver r-recall- called-d -- " Castiel began to stammer, only to be silenced whenever Dean hunched down and grabbed the former angel in a vice grip, forcing him to stand and cursing loudly when Castiel's legs buckled and almost pulled both men to the ground. Dean swore, dragging one of Castiel's arms over his shoulder.
"Come on, Cas. You gotta stay with me. Are you seriously going to come back to life after the devil /blew you up/ just to die of some measly friggin hypothermia?" Dean growled weakly, his fingers tight around Castiel's arm and hip. Castiel's head slumped for a moment, full-body tremors tearing through each one of his nerves and his breath coming in raggedly.
"M-my ap-ppologies-s D-d- d- eean." Castiel muttered, jaw clicking loudly with each painful shudder that caused his teeth to bump together and his throat to fluctuate. Dean dragged them up the small hill and to where the Impala was parked on the edge of a small forest. Thankful that he'd forgotten to lock the car, for once, Dean forced Castiel to lean up against the Impala just long enough that Dean could wrench the door open, turn on the ignition and crank up the heat. He stood up, trembling hands tugging at Castiel's trenchcoat and wrenching it off of the shorter man. Castiel looked like a drowned kitten, shivering and watching Dean with wide eyes, only to have himself shoved into Impala.
He stumbled, falling across the three front seats and turning to inquire Dean as to what was going on, when he caught sight of Dean clambering in after him and slamming the door to the Impala shut. "There's no friggin motel for miles." Dean cursed, hands going to pull off Castiel's suit jacket, heedless of the fact that Castiel was half laying underneath of him and shaking.
"D-Dean-n?" Castiel breathed, watching Dean's stiff fingers mess with the sopping wet tie that hung loose around Castiel's neck. Dean cursed, wrenching at the blasted thing and throwing it into the back seat. "Take your shirt off." He snapped, climbing on top of Castiel to reach into the back seat and fumbling around with one of the duffle bags that had been tossed there previously. Castiel breathed out shakily, fingers unable to even grip at the top button as he battled with the urge to fall asleep.
Dean sat back, a thick fleece blanket in his hand and his eyes narrowing at the way Castiel's hands were flopped uselessly in his wet lap. "Cas." He snapped, jarring the former angel out of his daze. "I thought I told you to unbutton your shirt." He tried to tone down the nervous edge to his voice, but when Castiel's shaking face stared up at him through dripping- wet hair, Dean swore softly to himself.
"Cas, I know how much I tell you sleep is a great thing, but right now sleeping is the LAST thing you want to do." He snapped, reaching out and ruffling Castiel's hair so violently that droplets of icy water sprayed everywhere. The heater had already started to kick in, but Castiel didn't seem to be getting any better. He draped the blanket over the steering wheel, wrenching his jacket off and throwing it into the back before tearing at Castiel's shirt. Obviously buttons were a bigger bother than Dean had previously anticipated. Castiel drew in a sharp breath, staring at Dean in confusion, but seeming to realize that the man was going what was required of the situation - thus stayed silent.
"This is so gay. this is so friggin gay." Dean growled to himself, fumbling with Castiel's belt and pants. "Cas, pick your ass up." He said, tugging at the slacks insistently. Castiel squirmed, but his shaking hadn't lessened in the slightest, therefore it was more of a wiggle than anything. It was enough, however, and Dean was able to wrench the wet pants off of his friend and toss them with everything else. Thankfully, the pants were big enough that they pulled over Castiel's shoes easily, though the ex-angel's footwear was the next thing to go. Both wet socks hit the back window with a dull thwack that went ignored.
Faced with the final obstacle, Dean stared at the simple green boxer-briefs that clung wetly to Castiel's thighs and crotch. "I really wish that whole no-gender thing translated over to the Earthly plane too." His eyes shot heavenward for a moment. "Sorry, Jimmy. This is totally your fault for saying 'yes' in the first place anyway, dude." Dean glanced back down, fingers grabbing the elastic of Castiel's underwear and pulling them off. Castiel didn't seem to understand the intimacy of the moment in the same manner as Dean did, given that he was staring at the hunter the entire time the other man was stripping him.
He did - however - seem to shiver a smidgeon less the second that he was free of his icy clothing prison.
Dean grabbed the blanket off the steering wheel, shaking it out and draping it over Castiel before he set about taking his own wet clothing off. Dean was halfway to tugging his pants down when he realized he had no physical way of getting into the backseat, nor did they have a second blanket.
"... son of a bitch."
"S-something wr-wrong, D-D-Dean?" Castiel stammered, his teeth still clicking loudly with each bodily tremor he underwent. Dean looked at Castiel and then to himself before he finished sliding his pants down, leaving them in a pile under the steering wheel with his socks and boots.
"No." Dean snapped, grateful that his boxers hadn't been dampened from the snow or ice so that he could retain some form of dignity in their current predicament. He shifted, hands pressing against Castiel's shoulders through the blanket covering the shivering man, and moving him slightly against the seat backs so that there was room for Dean to maneuver himself properly. He pulled the blanket up, the car already significantly warm, thanks to the heater, and half-draped himself on top of Castiel's body.
Castiel froze and Dean froze with him.
"What?" Dean barked. "There's only one friggin blanket and I'm not going to freeze my cajones off just cause you can't handle a little PDA." He snarled. Castiel stared at Dean with an unreadable expression for a moment, though his normally stoic demeanor was greatly hindered by the cold trembles that tore through the thin man's body.
currently unfinished. Will come back to finish later. maybe.