inonebasket | (no subject)

"Whoa--whoa, Cas!"

Now Dean just feels like an asshole. He really can't do anything right by Cas, can he?

"Sorry."

"It's fine. I was just...worried." Not scared. Worried.

"I'm sorry for how I behaved earlier." Because Cas had known he was being a dick, he just didn't care. "I'm just frustrated." He pauses. "Regretting my decision to take a male vessel, as well."

"Cas, I already told you. You wouldn't be you in another vessel."

Dammit. Dean knew he was being hard on Cas with the whole gay thing, but he hadn't realized it was bugging him this much. Good job, Dean. You keep breaking it.

"Look, I'm sorry. You had every right to be ticked off; I was being a dick. Cockblocking...it sucks."

"If you had met me as a female, you wouldn't think so." Cas almost wishes that Dean, like Jimmy, was able to perceive his true form. Maybe if he could, that would have driven the point home that he's not a penis or a vagina or human. Maybe it would be easier on Dean if he had physical proof that the rules really, honestly do not apply to Castiel.

"It doesn't matter. As we collect more of my Grace, this will become more manageable for me. You won't have to worry about it soon."

Dean completely ignores everything except for the end.

"I want to worry about it."

"You want to worry about it." Cas repeats it like it's the stupidest thing he's ever heard.

Yeah, that didn't make much sense, did it.

But the fact is, Dean's had three wet dreams involving Cas in the last week and every time he's jacked off, he's been thinking about Cas' mouth. That is distressing and disturbing, but dammit, he likes Cas. And the making out has been pretty good. And--Dean has no idea what he's thinking.

Wait. When does he ever?

He closes the space between them and grabs Cas, kissing him until he's forced to break for air. "I know I'm being an idiot. And I know it's selfish. But please, Cas. Please." What's he asking for? ...does it really matter?

God damn it Dean.

"I need you to stop doing that if you're asking for my patience," Cas croaks out, because his hands are shaking at Dean's sides and his breath is labored and sweet Christ he wants to shove Dean up against that wall so badly.

"I'm not. God help me, Cas, I'm not."

And then he's shoving Castiel against the wall, kissing him because Dean Winchester doesn't hesitate, dammit. If he's going to do this then he might as well jump in headfirst and get it over with quick, right?

Cas has no idea what changed but hell if he's looking at this particular gift horse in the mouth.

No matter how tightly Cas wraps his arms around Dean he can't get their bodies close enough. He picks up tips, techniques, what to do with his lips and tongue by what Dean's doing to him and puts all of it to good use. The room gets even hotter and Cas is panting for air wherever he can get it; his fingers curve and he rakes them down Dean's back because that seems like the right thing to do.

Nothing changed.

Well, nothing significant changed. Except for one, small, incredibly important detail. Dean pulls back, grinning at Cas. In fact, the longer he looks, the wider his grin becomes, until--

Oh dear god.

This isn't Dean.

It's a Leviathan.

At first Cas honestly understand; then, for a terrifying second of emotional freefall, he refuses to understand.

That confusion falls under the weight of the fury that slowly seeps through Castiel all the way down to his toes. "Where is he." It doesn't occur to Cas to check his temper in the face of a thing much, much stronger than he.

"Where's who? Where's who, Cas?" It's feigning innocence badly. It'd be much more effective if the Leviathan would stop smiling.

"He's fine, little buddy. Well. For certain values of fine. He's not gonna die anyway."

Cas has to reach for that tiny speck of Grace inside of him to find his calm because he's about two words away from attempting to rip this thing's face off. He needs to keep his head in this situation if he has any hope of helping Dean.

He also needs to get ahold of Bobby and Sam. His phone is across the room in his duffel.

"What do you want?"

"What do I want? Same thing all of us want." It shrugs, and the movement is disturbingly Dean-like. "You and the Winchesters are a thorn in our side. Boss wants to be rid of you all. But me, I believe in ...savoring my meals. Might as well enjoy myself while I eat."

It seems so unconcerned. As if it knows what a pathetic speck Castiel is.

"You should've heard him though. You're one lucky bastard, you know that? You've got that Winchester wrapped around your little finger."

When humans want something, really really bad, we lie.

Castiel takes a deep breath and lifts his chin. "Then you know about the Grace we've recovered."

"What?" No. No, it hadn't known about the Grace they'd recovered. "Please. We ate through your Grace."

"You don't know." There's a hierarchy amongst the Leviathan, Cas remembers from his vague, piecemeal memories of them inside of him. He had a monster from the lower rung, here. Perfect.

"I guess that's...what's it called? Above your paygrade?" Cas looks up at the thing wearing Dean's face and fights revulsion at the knowledge that he'd been lusting after it. "But it's true. And I bet you suspected it from the start."

Dean!Leviathan bares his teeth and shoves Castiel back into the wall. "We devoured you from the inside out. There's no Grace left for you to recover."

It certainly sounds confident enough, but there's just the tiniest flicker of doubt in its eyes. A host of Leviathan versus an angel is one thing. A single Leviathan against an angel, well...that's a little different.

That actually knocks the breath out of Castiel, but he doesn't so much as flinch. "If you devoured it, where do you think it went?"

Cas pushes a finger against the Leviathan's chest. "In here. Each of you got a speck; it's what makes you invulnerable. But you don't know how to use it, and I do." Cas lowers his hand.

Lying is...surprisingly easy as a human. But Castiel can't try to bluff his way out of this by being threatening; there's too good a chance the Leviathan will take the chance, and then Castiel is dead. He has to figure out something else.

The Leviathan, on the other hand, does flinch. It flinches and takes a step back.

"If it's just a speck, then it's not going to do you any good, now is it?" Now it's starting to sound uncertain. But it isn't leaving and it hasn't backed down yet. No, it's just...reevaluating.

"I would be willing to make an exchange." Castiel stands perfectly still, not a single twitch or tell. The bead of Grace he'd acquired burns like a miniature sun inside of him and he can hear the answering call inside of the Leviathan. It's a very odd sensation. "I will allow you to keep that Grace you have inside of you if you bring me to Dean, under the condition that he's still alive."

The Leviathan stays quiet for a minute, pacing back and forth, tapping its fingers on it's lips.

"Y'know what...no. No, I don't think so." It crowds closer to him again. "I think I'm gonna eat you, take your Grace for myself and then? I'm gonna eat your boyfriend. Starting with his--" It never gets a chance to finish its sentence, breaking off into a ragged scream. It convulses, twisting unnaturally to scrabble at its back; bloody chunks of flesh hit the floor and then there's Dean, the real Dean this time, pouring the contents of a mop bucket over its head.

Cas gets the hell out of the splashzone, watches as the thing that looks like Dean melts into a puddle on the floor; beneath all the goop, something bright white glows.

Noticing the toes of his shoes first, Cas glances up at Dean, shocked. "...hello, Dean."

"Cas." Something in his voice sounds broken. Terrified. Physically he's not much better, beaten and filthy and blood on his wrists where he'd fought with whatever the Leviathan had locked him up with.