log: dean + cas WHO: Dean Winchester + Castiel WHEN: June 25, afternoon WHERE: The livestock area, then their room WHAT: Dean comes and bothers Cas while Cas is working, and manages to pull him away for a little while. They have a much needed heart-to-heart. WARNINGS: None, tbh, though this is another one of those "most of this dialogue happens while clothes are off" logs
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Cas hadn't been as angry with Dean as he should have been. It helped that Dean hadn't actually tried to kill Crowley, and he couldn't be blamed for messing around with him. Anyone who knew Crowley wanted to mess with Crowley.
Not that Dean was going to mention all the Devil's traps until Crowley started whining about one of them.
It was more likely that Cas would visit Dean than the other way around, because… all right, honestly, because Dean hated animals. He could tolerate dogs, he was allergic to cats, but this farm animal thing was just crap. The last time he'd been there, he'd gotten into a staring contest with Lady Clarabel until Cas had told him off for bothering the cows.
So it was unusual when he showed up today, waving Cas over from a safe place by the door. "You got a minute? I have to show you something."
Cas really liked it here. He liked working with the animals, he liked caring for them and paying attention to their needs. It was simple, he had tasks to take care of that didn't involve bloodshed, but he was deeply worried that they weren't going to get outside and the animals wouldn't be able to breed. Aziraphale had proven himself with the minor miracle of making Lady Clarabel pregnant, but it was really the only good piece of news they'd had recently.
"Dean?"
Cas set down his bucket of milk, wiping his hands off on his jeans as he came over. "What is it?"
Dean gestured for Cas to follow him out, making like there was some secret thing -- but then he pulled him in for a kiss instead. He was usually fairly private, and no one outside their immediate family (and… ew, Crowley) seemed to know they were actually together. It wasn't an actively kept secret, but Dean liked that it was mostly between just them, anyway. They were vaguely hidden here. Sort of.
Cas was startled, but it only took a moment of hesitation before his hands came to rest against Dean's waist. He was still learning what to do with his hands that didn't involve grabbing Dean by the collar and shoving him violently up against a wall. Touching Dean's waist was a start, thumbs brushing over the fabric of Dean's shirt.
He was reluctant to pull back, but he put a little space between them to tip his head to one side. "Yes?"
"This was it," Dean said blithely, leaning in to kiss Cas's neck instead. Cas usually smelled like animals, Dean usually smelled like grease. It probably said a lot about how attracted Dean really was that the cow stench didn't bother him anymore. "Sorry it's not more interesting."
"Don't be." Cas let Dean kiss the exposed skin of his throat. He seemed to run hot and cold, either he was throwing Dean down on the bed or he barely seemed interested — that lack of interest wasn't real, Cas was just subdued. His interest was subtle, the slight acceleration of his heartbeat, a catch in his breathing. He lightly nuzzled Dean's ear, barely touching. His hands didn't move.
"You don't come down here."
Dean was so used to Cas being Cas that he could read him better than almost anyone now. If there was a real lack of interest, Cas would just bat him away or get annoyed. Dean was more touchy-feely than he might have let on, and maybe they balanced each other out that way; he had a difficult time expressing himself verbally, so he reached out, usually for a hug or some manly arm-punching. With Cas, that meant he was faster to show affection, especially if it meant he didn't have to explain himself.
"You were gone before I got up this morning. I wanted to say hi." He ran a hand down Cas's side before slipping it into Cas's back pocket.
Cas's smile was barely there, and it was almost self-satisfied and smug. Being human wasn't a choice, it wasn't something he wanted, but he'd discovered certain things that he liked, certain pleasures that angels didn't understand. Food was one of them. Sex was another.
"Hi," he said solemnly, pressing a firm kiss against Dean's ear.
Dean cut off the conversation with another kiss, happy to waste the next minute or so, eventually cradling the back of Cas's neck in his hands.
There were sometimes when he was alone that he missed women, but with Cas it was hard to miss anyone. Thinking about other people felt like a waste of his time compared to feeling like he was really understood.
When the kisses ended on their own, Dean leaned in to rest his mouth on Cas's shoulder, pressing his nose to the shirt Castiel had stolen from his drawers. "So… how's work?"
Oh, did Dean intend on talking?
The thing with Cas was, he rarely came to Dean on his own. It was a funny little quirk of how his sexuality worked, the fact that he rarely noticed people, rarely felt attraction. He was stirred a little more now that he was human if he saw a woman, like some kind of biological impulse left over from his vessel, but he rarely saw the difference in different humans, barely saw a difference in gender, barely felt an interest in touching -- even Dean, when he saw him from a distance.
But then Dean got close, and it was different. Then, Cas had a hard time staying away. "Fine."
That was an answer, sure. But really, he was more interested in pushing Dean up against the wall, pressing his lips to Dean's throat in slow, deliberate kisses.
"Hi---" Dean wasn't used to being the… responsible one? Cas needed a nudge to start, but he was more eager to make it sexual, a bit more energetic. Dean let him kiss for a few moments, letting out a contented hum, before he said, "We're a little out in the open here, Cas."
That didn't really mean the same thing for Cas as it did for Dean. "Okay." Like he wasn't certain what he was supposed to do about that. His hand pushed under Dean's shirt, instead.
"We'll get arrested for indecent exposure if you keep that up. Hey---" Dean reluctantly pried Cas's hand off of him. "Save some for later."
Cas pulled back, his hands falling back to his side. "Bad time. I understand." He didn't like it, but he understood.
Dean smoothed down Cas's hair and pulled him back in to kiss his temple. "Think you can get away for a bit?"
Cas spread his hands, shrugging like he didn't understand the question. "The animals aren't going anywhere. They don't have clocks."
"Sam and Monty should be out. You should take a break. Other people can babysit the Virgin Mary in there." (That fucking cow, Dean was sure he knew more about that cow's social life now than he knew about some of the people here.)
Cas looked forlornly past Dean, frowning. "Are you sure…?"
Dean paused, glancing back toward the animals before he ventured, "Unless I read you wrong and you don't want to have sex…"
For a second, Cas seemed like he was about to choose the animals --- but he wasn't the only one who worked there, and no one would miss him if he slipped away for a while.
Reaching out, he gave Dean an awkward smack on the shoulder, then squeezed his bicep. And then he was heading off down the hall without a word. The word, of course, was yes, regarding sex. Even if he didn't say it.
Right now, he needed something good. He was feeling — and looking — pale and anemic, his deal with Crowley taking more blood from him than he was willing to admit.
* * *
Neither of them were going back to work today.
When they had sex, they usually spent a few moments afterward side by side, catching their breath. There was usually a shared smile and a 'was it good for you?' (it was always a joke from Dean, sincere from Castiel) until they went about whatever business they had next, often sleep.
It was rare that Cas reached out for affection afterward, but it was surprisingly common for Dean. Today he was mostly quiet, and when they were finished he turned in and tucked himself under Cas's arm to rest his head on his chest. He would easily fall asleep like this if Cas would tolerate it, but…
"Can we talk?" It wasn't confrontational. Instead it was vulnerable, just barely more than a mumble he'd almost talked himself out of.
Cas didn't feel bad about abandoning work for a little while. People slipped out for various reasons all the time, and Cas didn't keep regular hours. He was in and out, he devoted most of his time to it, and he was happy to take the time for himself.
He was, however, exhausted. He'd been giving blood to Crowley for well over a week now, and it was taking its toll on him. Human or not, he usually had far more stamina than Dean — but now Dean was going to wear him out.
"Mm?"
"I miss being a demon," he admitted, looking toward a spot on the wall and letting his eyes go out of focus. "Being human is exhausting, and I can feel it slipping away from me." It wasn't completely odd for Dean to be so retrospective after sex; there was something about it that brought down that last wall that he put up between him and other people.
Cas had his hand on Dean's back, pressed firmly against his spine and holding Dean against him. His brow furrowed, but he understood the sentiment: being human was difficult for him, too. He missed being an angel. He missed immortality, he missed his multidimensional consciousness, he missed his powers. Being a demon was utterly abhorrent to him, but he could understand what Dean meant.
"But you've always been human," he said, leaning back a bit to look down at him. "This is how you were made."
"Dunno if that means much. Or maybe that's why it's so tiring. After a while it starts feeling like this world ain't made for humans. Everything's trying to eat us or kill us or change us. I'm trying to keep it together here and I don't know if…" Dean shifted, tightening his grip around Cas. "Being a demon hurt more but I cared less, does that make sense?"
Cas frowned. He reached up, touching his thumb to Dean's lower lip, his chin. "Do you want to care less?"
"Sometimes." Finally looking up, Dean kept eye contact for a few long moments before he leaned in to nuzzle Cas's jaw. "Not about you, though."
"About Sam?" It was a genuine question.
What did Dean want to care less about? Cas could understand it. Being an angel was simpler, his emotions were less nuanced, less defined, less complicated. Things were far more confusing as a human, without a strict hierarchy, with complex emotions, with free will.
"Everything with Sam is always so fucking complicated. He didn't remember things, then he knows more. I don't know what little thing is going to make him think it's just the Mark frying my brain -- and I don't know whether he'd actually be right or not." Dean sighed, pressing his forehead into Cas's shoulder. "Kevin's here. Charlie's here. I don't know what I can say to them or how to make up for why they're dead. I'd pay good money not to care about any of that."
Cas wrapped both arms around Dean, pulling him in tight. "No, you don't," he said. "You're not that selfish."
Dean sighed, letting out his breath slow. "No, but it would be easier."
"Sam, Charlie, and Kevin want you to be human. It hurts them more if you're not."
"Yeah, and what about me?"
Cas wished he had more comforting advice to offer, but he didn't. "Some things we have to carry, and nothing can make it better."
It was strangely comforting, which may have said more about Dean than it did about Cas. Dean nodded in agreement, letting the silence go on long enough for a change of topic before:
"I put off saying this but you've really got to stop the thing with Crowley. He's not gonna hand over that grace. Like ever."
Cas sat up a little bit, dislodging himself from his spot just underneath Dean and letting Dean fall like dead weight onto the mattress. "We have a deal. I have a debt to repay, and he's going to give me Adina's grace. That's the arrangement."
Dean fell with an oof before pushing himself back up. "It's for your blood, not your soul, and as far as I know, neither of you signed anything. You don't owe him shit, Cas, and giving your blood away will kill you before he coughs up the grace. He's fleecing you, he told me himself."
Cas looked down at his arm, marked with healing cuts, pricks from the syringe, and bruises. He knew Dean was right, but his blood was keeping Crowley in line, wasn't it? "With my blood, Crowley has a distraction. He won't do anything if he's being made more human," he said gruffly. "He can have as much of this as he wants. The last thing we need is Crowley at his worst."
"It's making you sick. Do you know what anemia is? Cas, please---" Dean reached over, covering the marks on Cas's arm with his hand. "We can deal with Crowley without killing you in the process. You gotta stop."
"I can't." Cas sighed, frustrated, like Dean didn't understand the situation. Dean certainly did understand, and he understood what blood loss was doing to Castiel's body far better than Cas himself. "And I want to keep him controlled. If that means keeping him addicted to my blood, that's what it means."
"Yeah, until you go into shock and die of blood loss. This is a stupid plan, Cas," Dean insisted, tightening his grip.
Dean wasn't wrong.
Cas slumped back against the pillow. "I'll … talk to him," he said reluctantly. "I'll deal with it."
"Thank you." Dean smoothed down Cas's hair. "Want me to come with you?"
"No. You'll just try to kill him."
"Are you sure that's a bad thing?"
Cas glanced at Dean, narrowing his eyes. "It is if you do it."
Dean sighed, making a show of being put-upon. "Fine. But at least tell me what happened after you do it." Settling back down, he slung an arm over Cas's middle and added, "You're not dying on me again."
Cas smoothed Dean's hair down before wrapping a protective arm around him, his grasp hard on Dean's shoulder. He'd burned a mark there once, when he'd pulled Dean out of Hell. Death and resurrection meant it was lost, but touching Dean's shoulder this way always seemed to mean something more.