curseboxes | {perkynipples} You don't understand. I NEED pie.

{perkynipples} You don't understand. I NEED pie.

Castiel had had ample time to stew in the juices of his misdeeds long before he returned to the bunker, his groceries in hand. When Dean was not there he grew agitated. When a full day came and went without word from either of the Winchesters he grew worried.

Considering the present climate of chaos in their lives any number of unsavory scenarios had occurred to Castiel as possibilities for their absence - but Dean has forbidden Castiel to go to him, so he tries to comply with Dean's wishes for once and stays. That doesn't mean it's easy. It doesn't mean the combination of his own intense guilt, his feeling of helplessness, and general ill-ease about Castiel's fight with Dean has made it easy. By the time he hears the impala pull up outside he's worked himself back into irritation again, almost anger, and so when Sam and Dean finally make their way in the door the first thing that comes out of Castiel's mouth is a very gruff and confrontational "Where were you?"

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He is not going to have this conversation, he's going to get Sam tucked back into bed, and then he's going to drag Castiel out of the fucking sex dungeon that isn't a sex dungeon, and he's going to drag all of them together so he can keep a fucking eye on them.

"Stay put," Dean mutters, and works on getting Sam there, holding a hand at his shoulder until he's sure he's okay. "I'll figure this shit out."

Sam feels like crap, but he doesn't need to be fussed over the way that Dean wants to. He's half convinced that Dean's doing it at least in part to avoid dealing with his own shit. "I'm fine Dean. I can make it to my room by myself. Go deal with your angel."

He brushes him off, gently but firmly and then heads back the way they came out of sight.

No, he would never dodge responsibility like that. Nope. Not at all. Why would you ever think that. "He's not my--" Dean snaps it and gets as far as the door before he finds himself with nothing to do because Sam's safe and he's out of excuses

Dean huffs, and starts toward the stupid fucking not-a-sex-dungeon that is totally a sex dungeon, and stands in the doorway.

"What the hell, Cas."

It's not like Castiel is an idiot. He knows Dean isn't going to like this, but until he can think of a more permanent solution it's the best thing he's got. He looks up from where he is sitting quietly against the wall with a book in his hands and sighs, setting it aside. "Hello, Dean. I see Sam has explained things."

Oh, really. Really, with the books and the nonchalance, and the -- Dean makes a noise in the back of his throat, and stares. He's got to be fucking with him. Seriously.

"Gimme your hands."

"Dean," his voice sounds exhausted, as if Dean is missing a very obvious point. "I'm not suggesting this as a permanent solution. You said that I can't guarantee that I will stay, this way I can. I can't fall back on Naomi's programming and neither can she take me. I am doing this willingly, I want to be here. This is where I want to be."

"When you go dramatic, you go big or go home, huh."

Dean reaches into his pocket to grab the lockpick kit, and crouches next to him. He gets the sentiment behind it, but he's not -- no. They're not doing it this way, Dean just is not going to deal with this level of bullshit tonight. He sets in on the locks, face pinched, sour, lips pressed into a thin line.

He thinks about arguing and thinks about earlier and then the fight goes out of him. His stomach twists unhappily and gives his wrists over but turns his eyes away from Dean to look past him at the wall opposite. "You won't even let me try, will you?" He doesn't mean it to come out as sulky as it does but really Castiel is at the end of his patience. He can't take another year of this, he feels like he can't take another day.

There we go. Dean lets some of the tension slip out of him once Cas stops fighting, and so he undoes the first lock, letting Castiel's hand drop as he goes to work on the second. No, he really doesn't intend to let Cas try and stay down here.

"This isn't meant for time-outs. If something comes for you, or someone, then you can bet their ass they're gonna go through me and Sam, too."

He's not reading Dean's mind, but what he says puts the pieces together well enough. "I meant you're not going to let me try everything I can to fix this. I can't give you the security that I won't leave if I can't give you some kind of guarantee. I thought this could be it. It was all I could think of."

He hasn't even been down there an hour but already his wrist is sore and a little stiff from the tight cold metal. "Dean."

"You're still healing," Dean says firmly, and undoes the second one, grasping for his wrists. He checks both of them over with clinical efficiency, and then turns his attention back to Castiel, lips twisted into an unhappy look at what he's saying. The idiot ought to know better, but no, of course not.

"You're coming upstairs with me. You're gonna sit upstairs on the couch with me, and then if Sammy's still up, I'm gonna drag him out, and then the three of us are gonna crash on the couch."

"Dean you don't have to ... " he huffs unhappily and looks away. "Don't bother Sam. I didn't do this to get your attention or impose my company on you. You don't have to put your brother between us. I know you're uncomfortable around me. You've made that abundantly clear."

It hurt, but seeing Dean use his brother as a buffer hurt more and he'd rather Dean push him away once outright than patronise him and made Sam play babysitter to them both.

It doesn't matter why he did this- Dean's still pissed that he did, but the why doesn't matter. Dean kicks the cuffs aside, and starts pulling at Castiel by his jacket, having none of his stupid, whiny bullshit right now, because no, just no. No.

It's even worse when Cas says that - putting Sam between them? Jesus, that's not it at all, that's a terrible idea. "I can fight my own battles, don't need Sam between 'em," Dean says mildly, and stares until Cas gets up and follows him.

"Then what are you doing? You don't have to babysit me." He stands up when Dean starts pulling but he stays standing in the same spot, digging his heels in, going nowhere. "I won't put you out of your bed just because you didn't like my solution. This is completely unnecessary."

"Apparently, I do," Dean mutters sourly, and stares in disbelief when Cas decides to dig his heels in like he's not fucking going anywhere, like he's going to sleep down in this stupidass pit. No, that's not going to work at all, and Dean's not going to let it happen.

"Cas, stop being an asshole, okay, and get out of here."

He gives up. Dean wants him out of the dungeon, fine. He'll go. There's absolutely no sense in arguing it because Dean is just going to keep badgering him to go. And when the angels find a way to take him or they get separated again it will be all on Castiel once more and he can't stand the thought of it but figures he might as well get used to it. It is inevitable.

His face hardens a bit in anger and he stares intensely at the other man, before finally moving forward, storming past him and heading for the door. He doesn't know where he's going yet, just not here.

Finally. Dean lets himself relax just a little bit, relieved that he isn't going to have to try and drag the moron out of there, or worse, have to bunk down there with pillows and blankets just to make sure that Cas is okay, that he gets some rest. Except, well, nothing goes according to plan there and Cas pushes past him, heading for the door, and that's not how that was supposed to go.

Son of a bitch.

Dean moves after him, feet thudding heavy against the floor as he follows. "Cas."

Castiel isn't really thinking about what he's doing at this point, he's just angry, and hurt, and a thousand other things that he really doesn't know what to do with. And they need an outlet but there isn't one. Dean wants him to stay so he tries, but then he wants him to leave the dungeon so he does, and now he's following him with some other set of needs and or desires and Castiel just needs to get away as far and fast as he can. There's nothing for that either because he's injured and Dean isn't and he's gaining on him.

"You are the most infuriating person I've ever met!" He says it in a loud frustrated roar, spinning around and deciding without really thinking about it that since he can't have space he'll take the opposite. He strides forward meeting Dean halfway and grabs hold of his shirt, backing him up into a wall not far from the door. He does it with all the force he had used in the alleyway so long ago, but instead of throwing a punch instead he meets Dean's face with his own. He kisses him long and hard and possessive and demanding. It's not remotely nice or sweet, all anger, and sadness, and fear and desperate need.

Dean's expecting a whole lot of things that he's really, really not excited about, truthfully, but the fact that Cas whirls around and walls him, that comes from way the fuck out of left field.

Dean's back gets slammed to the wall, and he makes a strangled noise of protest, half at what Cas says (he is not, that goes to Gabriel, or Sam, okay) and half at the fact that he's reminded that Castiel is a thousand times stronger than him, and it's only very rarely that he shows it. Dean jerks, pulls away, except he can't, and then he doesn't want to, because Cas is kissing him, mouth hot and wet and Dean arches, drags him in close and bites at his lip, kisses him until Dean's needy for air.

And then it hits him.

Then it clicks, what they're doing, and Dean licks his lips, staring at him in disbelief.

"What the hell, Cas."

He finds himself needing air just as badly as Dean does and isn't that a bitch? He pulls back, but not far enough to let go, just enough so that he and Dean both can get some air into their lungs. His heart is pounding and the world is spinning a bit. He hadn't meant to do that, really he hadn't. It had been a knee-jerk response (since when did he have those either?) to release the storm of emotion he'd been feeling.

Of course that didn't mean that he didn't mean it.

"I'm fairly sure the appropriate term is still 'kissing'."

Edited 2013-05-12 21:05 (UTC)

Dean licks his lips again, and oh god he can fucking taste Cas and isn't that a trip, because he's pretty sure he may have considered this, once upon a time. Usually it didn't count because it was late at night when he was jerking off and half awake, but the fact that it was happening now was--

Yeah, okay, he's losing his mind because Cas wouldn't.

"No, I-- Jesus, don't be a smartass, okay, I know what you're--" Dean stops, gets his shit together, and swallows. "Why."

Why? It should be so obvious. Castiel removes his hands from where they've balled in Dean's shirt and bring them up to hold his face. It's not gentle like caress ,it's firm and insistent, making Dean look at him, making him meet his eyes.

"Because I keep trying to make you proud, because I keep trying to stay with you and I always fail at both. Because I can't do another year of being at odds with you like this. It's too much for me to take and I can't stand having you look at me the way you do when you're disappointed or hurt. Because I need you to know that I need you too and that you are precious to me, as a friend, as a brother in arms, as the person that I--"

He stops there and just stares at Dean a moment, uncertain if he should continue. Yes, Dean kissed him back but that doesn't mean that Dean isn't apt to reject this gesture.

Oh. Oh, that aches in a way he isn't expecting, and doesn't think he can handle, honestly. Dean closes his eyes a moment and sinks against the wall, near boneless save for the fact that he's still standing. He can't quite look at him, honestly, because he feels like he's disappointed the angel again.

"Just stop," Dean doesn't quite whisper it, but it's goddamn close, because he can't. He can't do declarations of feelings right now, not when he's got the threat of losing all those people over their heads. Dean reaches out, and spreads his hands over Cas' chest, holds there a moment and then drops them over his shoulders, fisting in his jacket to drag him in for a hug. It's mostly to hide his face, if he's being truthful. "Later, okay. When we fix everything."

Dean tells him to stop and he deflates, but almost instantly he feels a little spark of something that feels like hope flare up in his chest when Dean pulls him in. Castiel remembers the last time this happened, how he just stood there and didn't know what to do. This time he raises his arms and wraps them around Dean's shoulders from underneath and turns his face, pressing it against the other man's neck and jaw.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry." He squeezes him a little tighter then, wanting him to really understand how deeply he means that and thinks that ... just maybe they can fix this after all.

He legitimately cannot fathom this right now. He's all wound up six different ways and his heart is aching and he really, really wants to make sure his little brother is okay, wants to busy himself with research and cooking and doing something with his hands, something with his body so he doesn't feel so fucking useless with the deaths of everyone looming over their heads.

Castiel curls his arms around him and Dean sinks against him with a shudder, giving him the same hard hug that Sam had gotten a few days ago, breathing unevenly. "Don't, okay." Dean pulls away, face carefully, carefully blank, eyes closed a moment. "We'll figure everything out later."

{perkynipples} You don't understand. I NEED pie.

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