posted by ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rockstarpeach at 09:14pm on 09/01/2011 under character: castiel, character: dean winchester, fic - spn: shootin' you straight
rockstarpeach at 09:14pm on 09/01/2011 under character: castiel, character: dean winchester, fic - spn: shootin' you straightTitle: Shootin' You Straight (Part 6/7)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rockstarpeach
Rating: Adult
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Cas, AU
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: 37,000 so far, 4,500 this chapter
Summary: Dean Winchester is in a band and Castiel is a fan. Not of the music, of Dean. An opportunity presents itself one night after a concert and Castiel can’t pass up the chance of a lifetime. It's not perfect, but this is their story.
A/N: Previous Parts here
Canada’s not so bad. I like the beer.
And the women, Castiel thinks bitterly, unfairly, as images of Dean in that limousine with that woman play through his mind for the twentieth time.
***
I wish you were here so hard.
***
Jager shots are awesome!
***
Castiel goes out to dinner with David and when he breaks up with him over Spaghetti Bolognese and a bottle of Burgundy, David seems to accept it with a grace that could only come from expectation and resignation. Castiel hadn’t realised he was that transparent.
It makes him wonder why Dean can’t see through him so easily.
***
Sam sucks. Literally. He’s probably sucking right now. And Adam makes a shitty wing man.
***
When Anna leaves just after ten o’clock, kissing each of her brothers on the cheek and promising to see them soon, Gabriel doesn’t waste any time getting to the point.
“What the hell is up with you?” he asks, as he roots through Castiel’s fridge for the chocolate bar he swears he put there two months ago. “You’ve been even more stoic than usual lately. Also, don’t forget; I’m your brother. I can tell when you’re using your bitchy face, and you’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Even when I don’t deserve it.”
He waits until Gabriel stands up, triumphant, wearing a smile and holding a Twix in his hand before he relents and tells him the truth.
“It’s over. With Dean.”
“That jackass pretty boy dumped you?” Gabriel asks. “Jesus, I dare him to do better!”
“Actually,” Castiel says, and can’t help his sad half-smile, “I’m not going to give him the chance.”
“Say what?”
“It’s not going to work. I’m not happy. I’m letting him go.”
“You’re dumping him?” Gabriel’s eyes are almost comically wide. “I didn’t think you had it in you, but good for you, bro. David’s on the lame side, but he might make you happy if you give him a chance.”
“I also broke up with David.”
Gabriel just stares at him for a moment before he mutely hands over his chocolate.
“Shit, Cas. I didn’t know you were this fucked up over that douche.”
Castiel accepts the candy with a smile but puts it down on the counter. “He’s not a douche. He’s a good man. He’s just not what I need.”
***
I didn’t think there was such a thing as too much pie. I’m reconsidering. I think I might hurl.
***
Okay, so listen. If you caught my little show, I’m sorry about that. I broke Christian’s nose, if that makes you feel any better.
Of course it doesn’t.
***
He doesn’t answer. He almost physically can’t. If he does, he knows his fingers will work all on their own and type out a message of undying love and devotion when what he really needs is just for Dean to leave him alone.
Maybe if he just ignores Dean, he’ll go away. Maybe he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream.
Maybe he’ll win a million dollars.
***
Our flight got delayed so we’re stuck at the airport for three fucking hours. Engine trouble. Christ, I don’t think there’s enough booze in this place.
***
Castiel takes up knitting. He makes scarves for Gabriel and Anna. They’re horribly misshapen and they have holes and the colours are all wrong. He throws them out and doesn’t tell anyone about it.
***
Cas, what gives, man? I haven’t heard from you in weeks. You okay? I really am sorry.
***
You have a show in Tulsa next Saturday, he answers. I will meet you after.
***
It’s over, he knows that, but he asks Dean to meet him anyway. The least he owes him is ending things face to face. Dean has been good to him. He’s been attentive (when nobody else is around) and kind always, and Castiel knows Dean truly does care for him.
He’s crude and immature and has very obvious relationship issues and a sketchy sense of self worth, sure. But perhaps his worst crime is not being able to read Castiel’s mind, to not know how very much certain things about Dean, about them, bother him.
It appears to be up to Castiel to stop things now, before either of them gets any more hurt than they already are.
***
Two days later he finds the usual tickets in his mailbox. He spends the next week and a half attempting to learn needlepoint and when the next Saturday rolls around he doesn’t go to the concert, just heads straight to the hotel room Dean’s reserved for them and waits.
***
Castiel is sitting on the couch, staring out the window onto the random splash of brightness that comes from streetlights, stoplights, billboards and windows. His eyes lost their focus an hour ago and now the lights are blurring, the distinct points mixing together into fuzzy, overlapping balls.
It’s pretty.
The door to the room clicks and swings open at just after eleven, which is odd because he wasn’t expecting Dean until past midnight. He’s never been this early before. Castiel jerks a little, stands up quickly and his heart rate picks up as Dean steps through the door. He’s not ready for this yet.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready for this but he has to be. He doesn’t have a choice, not if he wants to stay sane.
Dean takes two quick steps into the room, peering around the slight corner and when he sees Castiel his eyes grow wide for a split second and then he lets out a long breath of what seems like relief. Castiel feels terrible. Dean smiles tentatively and shuts the door behind him, shakes off his coat and tosses it on the bed as he comes closer.
“You’re early,” Castiel says, which is possibly not the best opening line when you intend to break up with someone, but he can certainly think of worse.
“Yeah, I uh…” Dean starts, and his hand fidgets at the back of his neck as he blushes. “You’re here.” He almost sounds surprised.
Castiel offers a strained smile.
“I asked you to meet me, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. I just… Anyway, I’m fucking glad to see you, Cas.”
Castiel’s smile evaporates completely at that. Face to face might not have been the best way to do this after all. “Dean, we need to…”
But that’s as far as he gets. Dean is suddenly right in front of him, his hands are clamped down hard on Castiel’s upper arms, his lips are pressed tightly to Castiel’s. The kiss is rough, brutal, just a mash of lips and teeth breaking through.
Dean pulls back, sucking in a deep breath and then his teeth clamp down on Castiel’s neck. He bites gently, sucks and licks and Castiel can’t help but let him, can’t help the relaxed, happy feeling he gets whenever Dean does this. Can’t help it because it’s Dean and it feels right, even if he knows it’s wrong.
“Need you,” Dean mumbles between kisses and Castiel’s hands twitch at his sides. He wants to reach out, touch Dean like he’s being touched, run his hands up and down Dean’s body, strip him and press up close, lose himself.
He doesn’t.
“You’re killing me, you know that?” Dean asks. He works Castiel’s pants open, first the button then the zipper, works them down over his hips along with his underwear.
“Dean…” Castiel says, half warning, half plea. He wants this and he doesn’t. Wants the sure, familiar grip of Dean’s hand around his cock when it comes, but doesn’t want to give in again, to his libido, to his heart. Neither of them is to be trusted. They mess with him, don’t think long-term, don’t know what’s best.
Dean seems to ignore Castiel, whatever his intent had been, and suddenly turns them around, hands on Castiel’s hips, and slams him into the wall. A woosh of breath leaves his lungs and he shakes his head trying to clear it but it’s a useless effort. Because Dean sinks to the floor then, all grace and surety and sex, and he takes Castiel’s erection into his mouth. Castiel’s eyes roll back as his body jerks in pleasure.
“Can’t get enough of you,” Dean mumbles as he pulls off to take a breath. “God, Cas, you’re like fucking crack. If I don’t get my fix I get twitchy.”
Dean probably thinks he’s being romantic. It would be sweet if it didn’t make all this so much harder. “Dean, you shouldn’t…”
And again Dean cuts him off, swallows him down once more and Castiel cries out. His head jerks back, thuds against the wall and his hand tangles in the short, sharp strands of Dean’s gelled hair.
Dean’s only done this once for him before and this is even better than that. He seems more comfortable with it, more sure of himself. He takes Castiel in, licks and sucks without any hesitation. His technique isn’t really much better than last time, but Dean’s brazen confidence is intoxicating.
He should stop this. He should push Dean away, tell him to stop. He shouldn’t give in to this perfection because he doesn’t deserve it. He’s leaving Dean, he came here to tell him that, and for Castiel to take advantage of the situation now is… It’s not unlike him, honestly, given all he’s been through with David, but it’s something he wishes he was above.
He wishes. He wishes a lot of things.
But God the feeling, the heat and the slippery slide across Dean’s tongue and then Castiel looks down and there’s just no way he can stop this. Not even a much stronger man than he could resist. Dean Winchester is on his knees, on his knees, in front of Castiel. His eyes are closed and his plump, reddened lips are clamped down tight around his cock and he’s humming softly and he moves back and forth to work Castiel in and out as he slurps around him.
Castiel blinks, just to be sure. And yes, Dean’s still on his knees, sucking him off and it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen in his life.
He comes without any warning and Dean freezes for a split second. His eyes snap open as he tastes the salty tang on his tongue and Castiel thinks he’s going to pull off like last time, but he doesn’t. He sucks harder instead, swallows down every last drop and when Castiel has been sucked dry he goes boneless, slumps against the wall and it’s only Dean’s strong hands on his hips keeping him upright.
Dean gives him a moment, nuzzles at the hollow of Castiel’s hip with his nose until Castiel’s breath evens out and the rapid thudding of his heart against his rib cage slows. He stands then, slowly, and his hands move up Castiel’s sides, taking his shirt up with them. He pauses when Castiel’s chest is exposed, looks into Castiel’s eyes and the hunger Castiel sees there is more than a little humbling.
Dean grunts and his hands move quickly, he backs up enough to yank Castiel’s t-shirt up over his head and then he’s back, kissing him hard, possessing him with his lips and teeth and tongue. Castiel melts into it and when Dean’s hips start to push into his own, gyrating little circles rubbing soft denim over his spent cock, it gives an interested twitch.
It’ll be a little while before he can get hard again, but certain parts of him definitely want to. Besides, Dean remains unsatisfied and it would be in extremely poor taste to stop things now so he can tell Dean he never wants to see him again.
So when Dean jerks away from him and immediately starts to remove his own clothing, Castiel follows suit, lets his pants fall the rest of the way to the floor and steps out of them. He crosses the room obediently when Dean moves to sit on the bed, feet on the floor and legs spread wide.
He stands between Dean’s legs and falls to the floor. He takes a few heartbeats to savour this moment, this one last time he’ll be able to do this and then leans forward, sucking Dean down in one smooth motion.
Dean half-growls, half-grunts and his hands clamp down on Castiel’s shoulders.
“Fuck, Cas,” he groans, and Castiel is pleased at how out of control he sounds. He did this to Dean. He made him need, made him cry out. “This feels so good. So damn good, you have no idea.”
Only Castiel thinks he does have a pretty good idea, if it’s even half as good as Dean makes Castiel feel.
The next few minutes are filled with a soft litany of praise from Dean’s lips as Castiel works, pulls Dean into his mouth as far as he possibly can, swallows around the head when it’s lodged down his throat. Dean screams then, an actual wordless scream, and Castiel knows he’s close, can feel Dean’s balls tighten and pull in close to his body where he’s holding them.
He pulls back, letting Dean’s cock slip from his mouth and bounce up against his belly.
“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean asks, eyes glassy and face flushed, body tense. “I was kinda in the middle of something!”
Castiel offers him a small smile and reaches across the floor for Dean’s discarded pants, reaches into the pocket and pulls out his wallet. Dean opens his mouth to say something but shuts it again quickly when Castiel pulls out the condom he knows Dean keeps there. Dean watches as Castiel opens the package and his breath hitches while Castiel rolls the thin latex down over Dean’s cock.
He stands then, climbs up on the bed, moves past Dean so that he’s lying face down with his knees bent. He looks over his shoulder at Dean, who’s looking back at him wide-eyed, and he cants his hips, positions himself in invitation.
“Fuck me,” he says.
He knows it’s wrong. Knows it, but he can’t help himself. He’s already crossed the line tonight and if he’s only got this one last chance to feel Dean inside him, stretching him open and tearing him apart, destroying him and making him whole, he’s going to take it.
Dean scrambles then, turns around and kneels behind Casiel, puts his hands on his hips. The grip becomes strong and he feels off-balance as Dean tilts him, rolling him over.
“On your back,” Dean explains, when Castiel looks at him quizzically. “I want you on your back. Want to see you.”
Castiel goes, opens his legs for Dean to settle between and Dean folds in on top of him, covers Castiel’s body with his. He touches him everywhere, kisses all the places his fingers have been and when Castiel is a writhing, moaning mess, his cock aching and hard again between their bodies, Dean starts to push inside.
He places a hand on Castiel’s face, cups his cheek with his palm and holds his gaze as he slides in further, steady and slow. Dean’s lips are on his right after the rounded head fully breaches the tight ring of muscle. He kisses him breathless, but to be fair, the lack of breath might be down to more than just the kiss.
Dean pulls back when he hits bottom and they both gasp. His forehead presses to Castiel’s briefly before he lifts himself up on one arm so his eyes can trail up and down Castiel’s body.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” Dean asks. He eyes lock on Castiel’s and Dean’s thumb glides over his cheekbone. “Fuckin’… Inside and out, Cas. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before. Way too good for me, I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could…”
Castiel can’t listen to any more. He physically can’t because his heart might beat so fast it would send him into cardiac arrest.
“Shhh,” he soothes, wrapping his legs around Dean’s waist, pulling him in almost impossibly close. His arms close over Dean’s back, holding him tight to Castiel’s chest and they move together, Castiel’s hips rising to meet Dean’s slowly increasing pace.
Dean’s mouth latches onto his neck, nibbles over the soft flesh and bites down on his collar bone as he slams inside him, harder than he ever has before. He hits Castiel’s prostate and Castiel’s dick is slip-sliding in the sweat and pre-come, rubbing against both of their bellies and he comes hard.
He moans through it, holds on to Dean so hard he’s sure the marks his nails are making on Dean’s back will last for days and Dean makes a pitiful whimpering sound and starts to thrust faster.
“Cas… God Cas, so close. I’m so close. Can you..?”
“Shh, Dean,” he coos, once he can speak again. He knows what Dean wants but he can’t give it to him. Not this time. “Let go. Do it. I need you to…”
Dean’s hips work even faster, a frantic pace and his face twists up like it’s almost painful.
“Please,” Castiel begs, his whisper blowing softly across the skin of Dean’s neck and Dean finally lets go.
Dean takes his time moving, but now that they’re finished Castiel feels cold, guilty and he needs to get this over with, get out of there. He pushes gently at Dean’s shoulders to roll him and Dean gives him a shy smile but goes willingly.
Dean grabs a few tissues from the table by the bed and uses them to wipe the mess off Castiel’s stomach before he puts his hand down on it possessively, fingers dancing across the skin, dipping in and out of his belly button.
Castiel opens his mouth to speak but Dean beats him to it.
“Are you pissed?”
“Excuse me?”
“You saw, right? That fucking video that’s been all over the tabloids?”
“I saw,” Castiel confirms.
“Are you pissed? Christian’s lucky I didn’t kill him, the fucker. He busts me and Sam, but he fuckin’ forgets he was in that limo too. With someone who wasn’t Arlene. Asshole.”
Castiel takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
“I’m not pissed,” he answers, and he means it. He’s not upset with Dean. It’s not Dean’s fault, not really. He’s only doing what he’s always done, what Castiel lets him do because he’s never asked him not to. It’s not his fault that a video of it ended up on television and pictures in the papers.
“Thank God,” Dean says and leans in close, kisses Castiel’s forehead and slides his nose down the side of his face, presses his lips to skin under Castiel’s earlobe.
“I’ve been seeing someone,” Castiel says suddenly, gently pushing Dean away. He needs this to stop.
“And?” Dean asks, with a slightly confused expression. “I didn’t figure you were sittin’ at home alone, waitin’ by the phone for me when I’m not around.” No, of course Dean wouldn’t care about that. It doesn’t affect him. Only it does. Now it does.
“And it’s made me realise that I need more than you can give me.”
“Wait… what?”
“I can’t keep seeing you.” There. The words are out but instead of relief he feels panic. He tamps it down and tries to stay strong.
“What the fuck was all this about then?” Dean asks, gesturing to their sated, naked bodies. “What, thought you’d get one last fuck in before you break it off? I’ve still got the fucking condom on! Wow, Cas. Dick move.”
“I’m sorry,” is all Castiel says. He could tell Dean how he didn’t intend for this to happen today, tell him he only planned on doing him the courtesy of ending things in person, but it doesn’t matter. He gave in, used Dean’s body and his heart one last time and in the end it’s all the same.
“So, what?” Dean asks, snarling a little. He sits up roughly and yanks off the used condom, tossing it on the floor before he stands and tugs on his pants. Castiel does the same. “Some other guy rocks your world a few times and now… now you’re done with me? He really that good in the sack?”
Dean actually looks hurt. Not only that, he looks small. And kind of angry.
Which shouldn’t be a surprise, because Castiel knows that Dean cares about him. It shouldn’t be a surprise but it is. He’d sort of been expecting Dean to just shrug it off, tell him it had been fun and head upstairs to pick up a replacement.
Castiel sighs and lowers his head, looks for his shirt and puts that on too. “That’s not how it is, Dean.”
“Then how is it, Cas? Because I thought we were cool.” When Dean puts on his own t-shirt he does it so roughly that Castiel is worried the material will rip.
“We were.”
“But we’re not anymore? What happened? Did you… Do you love this other guy?”
Castiel shakes his head. No, he really doesn’t. Never did and never could have. Not with Dean always hanging in the periphery. That’s the whole problem. “I’m not even seeing him anymore.”
“Then what the hell?”
“I ended things with him because I didn’t love him. And I’m ending things with you because I do love you.”
“How is loving me a reason to break up with me?” Dean sounds frustrated now. Almost desperate as he moves to stand closer. Castiel understands how he feels.
“Because you don’t love me back,” Castiel says sadly. “I don’t think you even know how.” Dean looks like he’s going to protest but Castiel stops him with a soft hand on his chest. “I know you care. I know you’re doing the best you can. But I need stability, Dean. I need fidelity and commitment. And I won’t ask you to change for me. You wouldn’t do it anyway and we both know that.”
“You don’t think so?” Dean challenges.
Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t. This, for you… It’s new. It’s forbidden and it’s exciting and you like it because you feel like you’re chasing someone for once instead of having someone throw themselves at you. Were it to get real, Dean, you would panic. You’d continue to hide our relationship from people. You’d continue to sleep around and you’d lie to me about it.”
“Fuck you!”
“It’s the life that you’re used to living, Dean. I didn’t mean to imply…”
“That I’m a lying, cheating coward? Yeah, don’t know how I could have ever gotten that impression.”
“It just won’t work. Dean, be honest with me. If I had never said anything, if I just kept on letting you believe that I was happy with what he have… had. Would you have ever thought to pursue something more with me? Would you have decided all on your own that you wanted to commit, stop sleeping with other people, call me every day and mark my birthday down on your calendar? Send me flowers and introduce me as your boyfriend?”
Dean takes a deep breath and when he answers Castiel knows he’s being one hundred percent truthful. “No. No, I wouldn’t have. I like the way things are. But…”
Castiel shakes his head and when he talks his voice is sure and firm. “That’s what I thought. It’s better we end this now, before it turns into something we both regret.” He hadn’t realised he was such a good actor.
“No matter what I say right now, your mind’s already made up, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Dean.” It is. It has to be. This is the right thing to do, no matter how much it hurts.
Dean nods and pushes past Castiel, opens the door and starts to step out. “I’m gonna head upstairs. You can stay the night, whatever.”
“I am sorry, Dean.”
“Yeah,” he says, and leaves without turning back, closing the door quietly behind him.
***
The next morning, Dean is standing in the hotel lobby next to Sam, and a woman Castiel has never seen before. He thinks about avoiding them, thinks about ducking into the bar for a cup of coffee, but he has a flight to catch. Also, he’s an adult and he doesn’t have to hide from ex-lovers. Even those that are very recently ex.
Castiel starts to walk toward them, toward the door. He pauses for a moment – but only for a moment – when Dean kisses the woman on the mouth. She giggles at him and offers him a silly little wave before she gets into one of taxis that are waiting outside.
Dean turns then, and when he catches Castiel’s eye, he quickly darts his glance away – to the floor, the wall next to him, the plant in the corner. He settles back on Castiel after a few seconds though, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set, as if daring Castiel to comment. Castiel almost smiles. Dean looks at him for only a moment longer before his shoulders slump and with a soft tap on Sam’s arm, he heads to the elevators.
Sam doesn’t follow, though. He waits for Castiel to walk to the door and smiles at him when he gets there. Castiel can’t quite bring himself to smile back.
“Hey,” Sam says.
“Hello Sam.”
“My brother’s an idiot, you know that, right?”
Castiel does smile then, a little.
“He’s not an idiot. We just want different things.”
“No, he’s an idiot,” Sam insists. “He’s more into you than he’s been into anyone in a very long time. And if he’s willing to let you go…”
“It wasn’t his choice.”
Sam blinks then and looks at Castiel like he didn’t quite hear him right. “Wait… you broke up with him?”
Castiel sighs and tilts his head. “I merely pointed out what we both know. It won’t work between us.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” Castiel hisses, tired of having to defend his decision. Especially since he's maybe not really that sure about it at all.
“Alright fine,” Sam says, backing up with his hands raised. “I’m not here to bust your chops about breaking Dean’s heart. The way he goes through bed partners, it was only a matter of time before it came back to bite him in the ass. I’m mostly just surprised he hasn’t knocked somebody up by now.”
“I highly doubt I broke his heart,” Castiel says, even though a part of him hopes it’s true.
Sam smiles at him a little crookedly. “He’s hurting. He really likes you.”
“I know,” Castiel agrees. “But this is best.”
“If you say so.” Sam shrugs and starts to walk toward the elevators, probably to catch up with Dean. “Just be sure. Because I don’t let this get out a lot, but Dean’s worth a little bit of bullshit.”
Castiel just nods at Sam and walks out the door. He gets into the 9:15 airport shuttle and sits next to a middle-aged man in a purple three piece suit. He wonders about what the man’s story might be for his entire trip home.
***
He misses Dean every second of every day, even more than he did before.
He learns Russian.
He’s looking at a promotion at work so he stays at the office late most days. He makes friends with the night watchman, Balthazar, and brings him the leftover donuts from the break room on his way out.
He still misses Dean, but he still knows he’s done the right thing.
TBC
Author:
rockstarpeach Rating: Adult
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Cas, AU
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: 37,000 so far, 4,500 this chapter
Summary: Dean Winchester is in a band and Castiel is a fan. Not of the music, of Dean. An opportunity presents itself one night after a concert and Castiel can’t pass up the chance of a lifetime. It's not perfect, but this is their story.
A/N: Previous Parts here
Canada’s not so bad. I like the beer.
And the women, Castiel thinks bitterly, unfairly, as images of Dean in that limousine with that woman play through his mind for the twentieth time.
***
I wish you were here so hard.
***
Jager shots are awesome!
***
Castiel goes out to dinner with David and when he breaks up with him over Spaghetti Bolognese and a bottle of Burgundy, David seems to accept it with a grace that could only come from expectation and resignation. Castiel hadn’t realised he was that transparent.
It makes him wonder why Dean can’t see through him so easily.
***
Sam sucks. Literally. He’s probably sucking right now. And Adam makes a shitty wing man.
***
When Anna leaves just after ten o’clock, kissing each of her brothers on the cheek and promising to see them soon, Gabriel doesn’t waste any time getting to the point.
“What the hell is up with you?” he asks, as he roots through Castiel’s fridge for the chocolate bar he swears he put there two months ago. “You’ve been even more stoic than usual lately. Also, don’t forget; I’m your brother. I can tell when you’re using your bitchy face, and you’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Even when I don’t deserve it.”
He waits until Gabriel stands up, triumphant, wearing a smile and holding a Twix in his hand before he relents and tells him the truth.
“It’s over. With Dean.”
“That jackass pretty boy dumped you?” Gabriel asks. “Jesus, I dare him to do better!”
“Actually,” Castiel says, and can’t help his sad half-smile, “I’m not going to give him the chance.”
“Say what?”
“It’s not going to work. I’m not happy. I’m letting him go.”
“You’re dumping him?” Gabriel’s eyes are almost comically wide. “I didn’t think you had it in you, but good for you, bro. David’s on the lame side, but he might make you happy if you give him a chance.”
“I also broke up with David.”
Gabriel just stares at him for a moment before he mutely hands over his chocolate.
“Shit, Cas. I didn’t know you were this fucked up over that douche.”
Castiel accepts the candy with a smile but puts it down on the counter. “He’s not a douche. He’s a good man. He’s just not what I need.”
***
I didn’t think there was such a thing as too much pie. I’m reconsidering. I think I might hurl.
***
Okay, so listen. If you caught my little show, I’m sorry about that. I broke Christian’s nose, if that makes you feel any better.
Of course it doesn’t.
***
He doesn’t answer. He almost physically can’t. If he does, he knows his fingers will work all on their own and type out a message of undying love and devotion when what he really needs is just for Dean to leave him alone.
Maybe if he just ignores Dean, he’ll go away. Maybe he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream.
Maybe he’ll win a million dollars.
***
Our flight got delayed so we’re stuck at the airport for three fucking hours. Engine trouble. Christ, I don’t think there’s enough booze in this place.
***
Castiel takes up knitting. He makes scarves for Gabriel and Anna. They’re horribly misshapen and they have holes and the colours are all wrong. He throws them out and doesn’t tell anyone about it.
***
Cas, what gives, man? I haven’t heard from you in weeks. You okay? I really am sorry.
***
You have a show in Tulsa next Saturday, he answers. I will meet you after.
***
It’s over, he knows that, but he asks Dean to meet him anyway. The least he owes him is ending things face to face. Dean has been good to him. He’s been attentive (when nobody else is around) and kind always, and Castiel knows Dean truly does care for him.
He’s crude and immature and has very obvious relationship issues and a sketchy sense of self worth, sure. But perhaps his worst crime is not being able to read Castiel’s mind, to not know how very much certain things about Dean, about them, bother him.
It appears to be up to Castiel to stop things now, before either of them gets any more hurt than they already are.
***
Two days later he finds the usual tickets in his mailbox. He spends the next week and a half attempting to learn needlepoint and when the next Saturday rolls around he doesn’t go to the concert, just heads straight to the hotel room Dean’s reserved for them and waits.
***
Castiel is sitting on the couch, staring out the window onto the random splash of brightness that comes from streetlights, stoplights, billboards and windows. His eyes lost their focus an hour ago and now the lights are blurring, the distinct points mixing together into fuzzy, overlapping balls.
It’s pretty.
The door to the room clicks and swings open at just after eleven, which is odd because he wasn’t expecting Dean until past midnight. He’s never been this early before. Castiel jerks a little, stands up quickly and his heart rate picks up as Dean steps through the door. He’s not ready for this yet.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready for this but he has to be. He doesn’t have a choice, not if he wants to stay sane.
Dean takes two quick steps into the room, peering around the slight corner and when he sees Castiel his eyes grow wide for a split second and then he lets out a long breath of what seems like relief. Castiel feels terrible. Dean smiles tentatively and shuts the door behind him, shakes off his coat and tosses it on the bed as he comes closer.
“You’re early,” Castiel says, which is possibly not the best opening line when you intend to break up with someone, but he can certainly think of worse.
“Yeah, I uh…” Dean starts, and his hand fidgets at the back of his neck as he blushes. “You’re here.” He almost sounds surprised.
Castiel offers a strained smile.
“I asked you to meet me, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. I just… Anyway, I’m fucking glad to see you, Cas.”
Castiel’s smile evaporates completely at that. Face to face might not have been the best way to do this after all. “Dean, we need to…”
But that’s as far as he gets. Dean is suddenly right in front of him, his hands are clamped down hard on Castiel’s upper arms, his lips are pressed tightly to Castiel’s. The kiss is rough, brutal, just a mash of lips and teeth breaking through.
Dean pulls back, sucking in a deep breath and then his teeth clamp down on Castiel’s neck. He bites gently, sucks and licks and Castiel can’t help but let him, can’t help the relaxed, happy feeling he gets whenever Dean does this. Can’t help it because it’s Dean and it feels right, even if he knows it’s wrong.
“Need you,” Dean mumbles between kisses and Castiel’s hands twitch at his sides. He wants to reach out, touch Dean like he’s being touched, run his hands up and down Dean’s body, strip him and press up close, lose himself.
He doesn’t.
“You’re killing me, you know that?” Dean asks. He works Castiel’s pants open, first the button then the zipper, works them down over his hips along with his underwear.
“Dean…” Castiel says, half warning, half plea. He wants this and he doesn’t. Wants the sure, familiar grip of Dean’s hand around his cock when it comes, but doesn’t want to give in again, to his libido, to his heart. Neither of them is to be trusted. They mess with him, don’t think long-term, don’t know what’s best.
Dean seems to ignore Castiel, whatever his intent had been, and suddenly turns them around, hands on Castiel’s hips, and slams him into the wall. A woosh of breath leaves his lungs and he shakes his head trying to clear it but it’s a useless effort. Because Dean sinks to the floor then, all grace and surety and sex, and he takes Castiel’s erection into his mouth. Castiel’s eyes roll back as his body jerks in pleasure.
“Can’t get enough of you,” Dean mumbles as he pulls off to take a breath. “God, Cas, you’re like fucking crack. If I don’t get my fix I get twitchy.”
Dean probably thinks he’s being romantic. It would be sweet if it didn’t make all this so much harder. “Dean, you shouldn’t…”
And again Dean cuts him off, swallows him down once more and Castiel cries out. His head jerks back, thuds against the wall and his hand tangles in the short, sharp strands of Dean’s gelled hair.
Dean’s only done this once for him before and this is even better than that. He seems more comfortable with it, more sure of himself. He takes Castiel in, licks and sucks without any hesitation. His technique isn’t really much better than last time, but Dean’s brazen confidence is intoxicating.
He should stop this. He should push Dean away, tell him to stop. He shouldn’t give in to this perfection because he doesn’t deserve it. He’s leaving Dean, he came here to tell him that, and for Castiel to take advantage of the situation now is… It’s not unlike him, honestly, given all he’s been through with David, but it’s something he wishes he was above.
He wishes. He wishes a lot of things.
But God the feeling, the heat and the slippery slide across Dean’s tongue and then Castiel looks down and there’s just no way he can stop this. Not even a much stronger man than he could resist. Dean Winchester is on his knees, on his knees, in front of Castiel. His eyes are closed and his plump, reddened lips are clamped down tight around his cock and he’s humming softly and he moves back and forth to work Castiel in and out as he slurps around him.
Castiel blinks, just to be sure. And yes, Dean’s still on his knees, sucking him off and it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen in his life.
He comes without any warning and Dean freezes for a split second. His eyes snap open as he tastes the salty tang on his tongue and Castiel thinks he’s going to pull off like last time, but he doesn’t. He sucks harder instead, swallows down every last drop and when Castiel has been sucked dry he goes boneless, slumps against the wall and it’s only Dean’s strong hands on his hips keeping him upright.
Dean gives him a moment, nuzzles at the hollow of Castiel’s hip with his nose until Castiel’s breath evens out and the rapid thudding of his heart against his rib cage slows. He stands then, slowly, and his hands move up Castiel’s sides, taking his shirt up with them. He pauses when Castiel’s chest is exposed, looks into Castiel’s eyes and the hunger Castiel sees there is more than a little humbling.
Dean grunts and his hands move quickly, he backs up enough to yank Castiel’s t-shirt up over his head and then he’s back, kissing him hard, possessing him with his lips and teeth and tongue. Castiel melts into it and when Dean’s hips start to push into his own, gyrating little circles rubbing soft denim over his spent cock, it gives an interested twitch.
It’ll be a little while before he can get hard again, but certain parts of him definitely want to. Besides, Dean remains unsatisfied and it would be in extremely poor taste to stop things now so he can tell Dean he never wants to see him again.
So when Dean jerks away from him and immediately starts to remove his own clothing, Castiel follows suit, lets his pants fall the rest of the way to the floor and steps out of them. He crosses the room obediently when Dean moves to sit on the bed, feet on the floor and legs spread wide.
He stands between Dean’s legs and falls to the floor. He takes a few heartbeats to savour this moment, this one last time he’ll be able to do this and then leans forward, sucking Dean down in one smooth motion.
Dean half-growls, half-grunts and his hands clamp down on Castiel’s shoulders.
“Fuck, Cas,” he groans, and Castiel is pleased at how out of control he sounds. He did this to Dean. He made him need, made him cry out. “This feels so good. So damn good, you have no idea.”
Only Castiel thinks he does have a pretty good idea, if it’s even half as good as Dean makes Castiel feel.
The next few minutes are filled with a soft litany of praise from Dean’s lips as Castiel works, pulls Dean into his mouth as far as he possibly can, swallows around the head when it’s lodged down his throat. Dean screams then, an actual wordless scream, and Castiel knows he’s close, can feel Dean’s balls tighten and pull in close to his body where he’s holding them.
He pulls back, letting Dean’s cock slip from his mouth and bounce up against his belly.
“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean asks, eyes glassy and face flushed, body tense. “I was kinda in the middle of something!”
Castiel offers him a small smile and reaches across the floor for Dean’s discarded pants, reaches into the pocket and pulls out his wallet. Dean opens his mouth to say something but shuts it again quickly when Castiel pulls out the condom he knows Dean keeps there. Dean watches as Castiel opens the package and his breath hitches while Castiel rolls the thin latex down over Dean’s cock.
He stands then, climbs up on the bed, moves past Dean so that he’s lying face down with his knees bent. He looks over his shoulder at Dean, who’s looking back at him wide-eyed, and he cants his hips, positions himself in invitation.
“Fuck me,” he says.
He knows it’s wrong. Knows it, but he can’t help himself. He’s already crossed the line tonight and if he’s only got this one last chance to feel Dean inside him, stretching him open and tearing him apart, destroying him and making him whole, he’s going to take it.
Dean scrambles then, turns around and kneels behind Casiel, puts his hands on his hips. The grip becomes strong and he feels off-balance as Dean tilts him, rolling him over.
“On your back,” Dean explains, when Castiel looks at him quizzically. “I want you on your back. Want to see you.”
Castiel goes, opens his legs for Dean to settle between and Dean folds in on top of him, covers Castiel’s body with his. He touches him everywhere, kisses all the places his fingers have been and when Castiel is a writhing, moaning mess, his cock aching and hard again between their bodies, Dean starts to push inside.
He places a hand on Castiel’s face, cups his cheek with his palm and holds his gaze as he slides in further, steady and slow. Dean’s lips are on his right after the rounded head fully breaches the tight ring of muscle. He kisses him breathless, but to be fair, the lack of breath might be down to more than just the kiss.
Dean pulls back when he hits bottom and they both gasp. His forehead presses to Castiel’s briefly before he lifts himself up on one arm so his eyes can trail up and down Castiel’s body.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” Dean asks. He eyes lock on Castiel’s and Dean’s thumb glides over his cheekbone. “Fuckin’… Inside and out, Cas. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before. Way too good for me, I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could…”
Castiel can’t listen to any more. He physically can’t because his heart might beat so fast it would send him into cardiac arrest.
“Shhh,” he soothes, wrapping his legs around Dean’s waist, pulling him in almost impossibly close. His arms close over Dean’s back, holding him tight to Castiel’s chest and they move together, Castiel’s hips rising to meet Dean’s slowly increasing pace.
Dean’s mouth latches onto his neck, nibbles over the soft flesh and bites down on his collar bone as he slams inside him, harder than he ever has before. He hits Castiel’s prostate and Castiel’s dick is slip-sliding in the sweat and pre-come, rubbing against both of their bellies and he comes hard.
He moans through it, holds on to Dean so hard he’s sure the marks his nails are making on Dean’s back will last for days and Dean makes a pitiful whimpering sound and starts to thrust faster.
“Cas… God Cas, so close. I’m so close. Can you..?”
“Shh, Dean,” he coos, once he can speak again. He knows what Dean wants but he can’t give it to him. Not this time. “Let go. Do it. I need you to…”
Dean’s hips work even faster, a frantic pace and his face twists up like it’s almost painful.
“Please,” Castiel begs, his whisper blowing softly across the skin of Dean’s neck and Dean finally lets go.
Dean takes his time moving, but now that they’re finished Castiel feels cold, guilty and he needs to get this over with, get out of there. He pushes gently at Dean’s shoulders to roll him and Dean gives him a shy smile but goes willingly.
Dean grabs a few tissues from the table by the bed and uses them to wipe the mess off Castiel’s stomach before he puts his hand down on it possessively, fingers dancing across the skin, dipping in and out of his belly button.
Castiel opens his mouth to speak but Dean beats him to it.
“Are you pissed?”
“Excuse me?”
“You saw, right? That fucking video that’s been all over the tabloids?”
“I saw,” Castiel confirms.
“Are you pissed? Christian’s lucky I didn’t kill him, the fucker. He busts me and Sam, but he fuckin’ forgets he was in that limo too. With someone who wasn’t Arlene. Asshole.”
Castiel takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
“I’m not pissed,” he answers, and he means it. He’s not upset with Dean. It’s not Dean’s fault, not really. He’s only doing what he’s always done, what Castiel lets him do because he’s never asked him not to. It’s not his fault that a video of it ended up on television and pictures in the papers.
“Thank God,” Dean says and leans in close, kisses Castiel’s forehead and slides his nose down the side of his face, presses his lips to skin under Castiel’s earlobe.
“I’ve been seeing someone,” Castiel says suddenly, gently pushing Dean away. He needs this to stop.
“And?” Dean asks, with a slightly confused expression. “I didn’t figure you were sittin’ at home alone, waitin’ by the phone for me when I’m not around.” No, of course Dean wouldn’t care about that. It doesn’t affect him. Only it does. Now it does.
“And it’s made me realise that I need more than you can give me.”
“Wait… what?”
“I can’t keep seeing you.” There. The words are out but instead of relief he feels panic. He tamps it down and tries to stay strong.
“What the fuck was all this about then?” Dean asks, gesturing to their sated, naked bodies. “What, thought you’d get one last fuck in before you break it off? I’ve still got the fucking condom on! Wow, Cas. Dick move.”
“I’m sorry,” is all Castiel says. He could tell Dean how he didn’t intend for this to happen today, tell him he only planned on doing him the courtesy of ending things in person, but it doesn’t matter. He gave in, used Dean’s body and his heart one last time and in the end it’s all the same.
“So, what?” Dean asks, snarling a little. He sits up roughly and yanks off the used condom, tossing it on the floor before he stands and tugs on his pants. Castiel does the same. “Some other guy rocks your world a few times and now… now you’re done with me? He really that good in the sack?”
Dean actually looks hurt. Not only that, he looks small. And kind of angry.
Which shouldn’t be a surprise, because Castiel knows that Dean cares about him. It shouldn’t be a surprise but it is. He’d sort of been expecting Dean to just shrug it off, tell him it had been fun and head upstairs to pick up a replacement.
Castiel sighs and lowers his head, looks for his shirt and puts that on too. “That’s not how it is, Dean.”
“Then how is it, Cas? Because I thought we were cool.” When Dean puts on his own t-shirt he does it so roughly that Castiel is worried the material will rip.
“We were.”
“But we’re not anymore? What happened? Did you… Do you love this other guy?”
Castiel shakes his head. No, he really doesn’t. Never did and never could have. Not with Dean always hanging in the periphery. That’s the whole problem. “I’m not even seeing him anymore.”
“Then what the hell?”
“I ended things with him because I didn’t love him. And I’m ending things with you because I do love you.”
“How is loving me a reason to break up with me?” Dean sounds frustrated now. Almost desperate as he moves to stand closer. Castiel understands how he feels.
“Because you don’t love me back,” Castiel says sadly. “I don’t think you even know how.” Dean looks like he’s going to protest but Castiel stops him with a soft hand on his chest. “I know you care. I know you’re doing the best you can. But I need stability, Dean. I need fidelity and commitment. And I won’t ask you to change for me. You wouldn’t do it anyway and we both know that.”
“You don’t think so?” Dean challenges.
Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t. This, for you… It’s new. It’s forbidden and it’s exciting and you like it because you feel like you’re chasing someone for once instead of having someone throw themselves at you. Were it to get real, Dean, you would panic. You’d continue to hide our relationship from people. You’d continue to sleep around and you’d lie to me about it.”
“Fuck you!”
“It’s the life that you’re used to living, Dean. I didn’t mean to imply…”
“That I’m a lying, cheating coward? Yeah, don’t know how I could have ever gotten that impression.”
“It just won’t work. Dean, be honest with me. If I had never said anything, if I just kept on letting you believe that I was happy with what he have… had. Would you have ever thought to pursue something more with me? Would you have decided all on your own that you wanted to commit, stop sleeping with other people, call me every day and mark my birthday down on your calendar? Send me flowers and introduce me as your boyfriend?”
Dean takes a deep breath and when he answers Castiel knows he’s being one hundred percent truthful. “No. No, I wouldn’t have. I like the way things are. But…”
Castiel shakes his head and when he talks his voice is sure and firm. “That’s what I thought. It’s better we end this now, before it turns into something we both regret.” He hadn’t realised he was such a good actor.
“No matter what I say right now, your mind’s already made up, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Dean.” It is. It has to be. This is the right thing to do, no matter how much it hurts.
Dean nods and pushes past Castiel, opens the door and starts to step out. “I’m gonna head upstairs. You can stay the night, whatever.”
“I am sorry, Dean.”
“Yeah,” he says, and leaves without turning back, closing the door quietly behind him.
***
The next morning, Dean is standing in the hotel lobby next to Sam, and a woman Castiel has never seen before. He thinks about avoiding them, thinks about ducking into the bar for a cup of coffee, but he has a flight to catch. Also, he’s an adult and he doesn’t have to hide from ex-lovers. Even those that are very recently ex.
Castiel starts to walk toward them, toward the door. He pauses for a moment – but only for a moment – when Dean kisses the woman on the mouth. She giggles at him and offers him a silly little wave before she gets into one of taxis that are waiting outside.
Dean turns then, and when he catches Castiel’s eye, he quickly darts his glance away – to the floor, the wall next to him, the plant in the corner. He settles back on Castiel after a few seconds though, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set, as if daring Castiel to comment. Castiel almost smiles. Dean looks at him for only a moment longer before his shoulders slump and with a soft tap on Sam’s arm, he heads to the elevators.
Sam doesn’t follow, though. He waits for Castiel to walk to the door and smiles at him when he gets there. Castiel can’t quite bring himself to smile back.
“Hey,” Sam says.
“Hello Sam.”
“My brother’s an idiot, you know that, right?”
Castiel does smile then, a little.
“He’s not an idiot. We just want different things.”
“No, he’s an idiot,” Sam insists. “He’s more into you than he’s been into anyone in a very long time. And if he’s willing to let you go…”
“It wasn’t his choice.”
Sam blinks then and looks at Castiel like he didn’t quite hear him right. “Wait… you broke up with him?”
Castiel sighs and tilts his head. “I merely pointed out what we both know. It won’t work between us.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” Castiel hisses, tired of having to defend his decision. Especially since he's maybe not really that sure about it at all.
“Alright fine,” Sam says, backing up with his hands raised. “I’m not here to bust your chops about breaking Dean’s heart. The way he goes through bed partners, it was only a matter of time before it came back to bite him in the ass. I’m mostly just surprised he hasn’t knocked somebody up by now.”
“I highly doubt I broke his heart,” Castiel says, even though a part of him hopes it’s true.
Sam smiles at him a little crookedly. “He’s hurting. He really likes you.”
“I know,” Castiel agrees. “But this is best.”
“If you say so.” Sam shrugs and starts to walk toward the elevators, probably to catch up with Dean. “Just be sure. Because I don’t let this get out a lot, but Dean’s worth a little bit of bullshit.”
Castiel just nods at Sam and walks out the door. He gets into the 9:15 airport shuttle and sits next to a middle-aged man in a purple three piece suit. He wonders about what the man’s story might be for his entire trip home.
***
He misses Dean every second of every day, even more than he did before.
He learns Russian.
He’s looking at a promotion at work so he stays at the office late most days. He makes friends with the night watchman, Balthazar, and brings him the leftover donuts from the break room on his way out.
He still misses Dean, but he still knows he’s done the right thing.
TBC
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