inonebasket | (no subject)

(no subject)

This was not how Castiel had wanted to reunite with Dean Winchester. In fact, now that he was at that point, Cas wasn't sure he'd wanted to reunite with Dean Winchester at all. Guilt sank heavy and uncomfortable in his stomach and he was still getting used to the intensity of feeling.

He'd thought things were confusing as an angel. Twenty times worse with a human ticker pumping away in his chest.

Still, there wasn't exactly an option of running when the only exit was prowled by the Leviathan just beyond the door, held at bay only by the wards Cas had carved into the wood and accented with blood from the gash clotting on his forearm. He checked the shells in his shotgun (useless), the bowie knife against his thigh (also useless) and finally, finally looked over at Dean, not sure what he was going to see.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What? No.

What?

"Cas. You okay?"

"Yes. I'm very remarkably okay, Dean." Cas wipes his hand off on his jeans and shucks them as well, climbing up further onto the bed to lay beside Dean.

"Well. Okay then. Good." Because for a second, Cas looked poleaxed.

In a very naked mimicry of the way they usually sleep together, Dean shifts onto his stomach, flinging one arm across Cas' body. It feels remarkably...normal.

"I'm okay, too."

Go figure. He's not flipping his shit for some reason. No sense in questioning it.

Cas moves closer, still a little bit stunned by what they'd just done together, but returns the gesture and puts an arm around Dean's shoulders. He kisses Dean once more before settling. "...Dean? We...are doing this again some time, right?"

If Dean says no, so help him God Cas may- he doesn't even know. Do something ridiculous and drastic. Become a hippie, maybe.

Dean huffs, feeling the pull of post-sex sleep upon him. "Ask me when I wake up."

When he's sober. Well, it's close enough to a yes, right?

Not exactly. Actually it sounds more like a 'no' from where Cas is sitting, and try as he might to keep the concern off of his face, he can't do it. Hopefully Dean is too buzzed on booze and sex to notice. "Ah. I'll do that."

Way too buzzed on both, as a matter of fact. Also, quickly falling asleep. Dean's gone in less than a minute, arm securely over Cas, face pressed into his arm. He sleeps remarkably well, though he wakes up a bit hungover. And sticky. Ugh. Downside to getting laid. It itches.

Carefully, Dean untangles himself from from Cas, only stumbling a little on his way into the bathroom. He basks under the hot water for a little while before emerging, clad only in a towel.

"Good morning, starshine, the Earth says hello." Up and at 'em, Cas.

Castiel grumbles and rolls over, rubbing at his eyes. He slept like the dead, something that has been happening very, very rarely for him. Apparently getting off was just what the doctor ordered.

"I watched George Carlin last night," he says. The pillow muffles his commentary somewhat. "He seems like a very dissatisfied person."

"Yeah, but he's a funny dissatisfied person." Dean yanks on a pair of jeans before sitting on the edge of the bed and resting his hand between Cas' shoulders. It's more physical contact than Dean usually initiates with people.

And Cas knows it. He turns his head to rest his cheek on the pillow, staring up at Dean out of the corners of his eyes. "I didn't understand why the audience was laughing. Some of what he said was the truth, some of it exaggeration. Why is that humorous?"

"It's all in the delivery, Cas. You'll figure it out. Now c'mon." Dean gets up, rummaging for a shirt. "Go get a shower. I've got a good feeling about today, wanna get some work done."

The delivery, huh?

Castiel lays for a moment longer before working up the motivation to slide out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom. His shower is back to its usual three-minute ordeal, and he's dressed and ready to go in five. "Are we leaving Las Vegas?" Because Cas could try to make them a couple more thousand if they need it.

"Not yet. City this big, we can get our hands on some good resources. Might be able to find more Leviathans, get you a good chunk of your Grace back."

He'll get Cas back into top form if it's the last thing he does.

Cas forgot to brush his teeth, so he starts on that as he considers Dean's course of action. Pity. He'd actually been looking forward to staying inside all day and letting Dean do whatever he wanted to him.

Leaning against the doorway, a hand in his pocket, Cas tugs the toothbrush from his mouth long enough to say, "What about the honeymoon tour?" Because that had seemed important at the time. Honestly, Cas would be good with whatever. He feels so utterly chill and relax right now, in a way he's never been in all his years.

Oh right. Honeymoon tour. Dean grins. "Yeah, you're right. Research can wait a day. Sammy's probably got it under control anyway."

Alas, they can't stay in the room all day. They've got to eat at some point. "Alright. Breakfast first. Movies after. Let's just take a day."

Movies? Is that what people do on honeymoon tours? Cas will just have to take Dean's word for it, even though Dean isn't exactly an expert on it either considering he'd never been married.

Still, he wants to test something. After rinsing out his mouth he crosses the room, grabs the back of Dean's neck and pulls him into a kiss.

Usually honeymoon tours involve Bali and fancy hotels. At least, Dean thinks they do. Whatever.

"Mmph!" Good morning to Cas, too. Dean tolerates that for about 10 seconds before pulling away. "At least lemme brush my teeth first!" Geez, Cas.

Okay. Dean did not protest -at least, not in the way Cas expected- and he nods, satisfied. "My apologies." He slips around Dean to collect their bags and the keys to load up the Impala.

So it wasn't just the booze talking last night. Good to know.

Yeah, there's no sense in denying it, Dean did enjoy himself last night. If anyone had asked him two years ago--or hell, two weeks ago--if he'd willingly get in bed with another man, he'd have been offended and more than a little creeped out. Okay, he's still a little creeped out. The whole thing is moving kind of fast for him, which is saying something, given the way Dean's relationships usually go.

Okay, so he's known Cas for a good long while now, and this has probably been building for the both of them since day one, but that is so not the point.

Dean brushes his teeth and finishes gathering their scattered things from around the room before heading out to the Impala and driving them to get breakfast. Thanks to Cas' luck at the tables, they're flush with money, so instead of the usual greasy spoon, Dean decides to splurge and take them to IHOP. Fuck yes. Pancakes.

He still flirts with the waitress, mostly because he can't help it, though he watches to see Cas' reaction while he does. And other than his eggs being a little dry, it's a largely uneventful meal. They're soon back on the road with no particular destination in mind. Well...okay, one destination. Dean stops off at a cellphone shop and picks up a cheap one before they continue on.

If Cas cares at all that Dean is flirting with the waitress, it doesn't show on his face. Honestly he would be more shocked if Dean didn't flirt with the waitress. It's just...Dean behavior. Cas just eats his plate of meat (eggs, sausage, bacon and hamsteak, seriously Cas, at least there was toast involved) and calmly stares out the window as he chews, watching the cars idle by. Vegas isn't too bustling in the morning, is it? Still hot as hell, though.

Cas makes a pleased sound when Dean picks up a new phone, and makes him program the number into his own cell. Finally, a line of communication for if they get separated, although God willing that won't happen again. At least Cas can feel when there's a Leviathan nearby now, two beads of Grace humming like miniature generators, waiting to be reunited with the others.

They're on their way toward a video rental store when Cas's hand snaps out and grabs Dean's upper arm. "Stop the car."

"What--" The Impala's brakes squeal. A car behind them swerves and the driver yells something unfit for print. Dean ignores it. "What's wrong?"

Castiel's brow furrows. "There's one here." He can feel the answering pulse of Grace, somewhere, like a high bell among bass drums.

"Where?!" Dean looks over his shoulder, checks the mirrors. He doesn't see anything. Even if he did, he's not sure how much cleaning fluid they've still got in the trunk.

Cas opens his door and climbs out of the car into the middle of the street, jogging for the sidewalk.

"Cas! Cas, you can't just--" Cas is going to give Dean a heart attack at this rate. Dean swings the car into the nearest parking lot and launches out of it, chasing after Castiel. "What is wrong with you! You can't just jump out of a car like that!"