Warning(s): Spoilers for Season Five (maybe)
Summary: Maybe if you shove a pen in him you can get some ink? Or he’s a great blanket? Or that we can use him like a lawn gnome and have him scare off the neighborhood children?
This was for kamianya and their request is community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/1
Dean saunters up to the motel room’s door, knowing that Sam is up by the light filtering through the thin curtains, he makes an extra effort to be even one second later. No matter how strained their relationship is at the moment, Dean can’t resist making Sam worry and getting him upset, because it’s the only way to make this horrible time seem even a little more normal.
Shoving his weight against the ancient door is the only way he can force it open, and the way its rusty hinges creak remind Dean just the age of the motel. Or perhaps that maintenance is just lacking.
“Hey Sammie, good to see you’re still awake.” Dean grins as he crosses the tiny room in three strides and opens the mini-refrigerator. Setting his case of beer on the bottom shelf he snags one before closing the door, “So what are you looking at this late at night? Could my virtuous little brother be looking at… porn?”
Sam sighs audibly, and Dean realizes his choice of words weren’t great. But jokes were the only thing that could ease some of the tension.
“No, where were you anyways?” Sam’s fingers fly over the keyboard as page after page flies by before Dean can read anything on them. “And if you must know I was doing some research on the angels, because I want to be prepared in case we run into anymore of them.”
Popping the tab on his beer and setting it down on the small table next to the bed, the older brother splays himself across the tiny bed. Neither of the brothers speak as rapid typing continues to fill the silence rather than their exchanging words. Dean chugs half of his beer before sitting up once more and meeting Sam’s eyes.
His fingers finally come to a halt and Sam lets out yet another sigh. “Why is Castiel so difficult to figure out?”
“What do you mean? He’s pretty straightforward… quiet, brooding, doesn’t understand the meaning of personal space, or how to get a lap dance…”
“Not that Dean, the meaning of his name. Rafael is ‘The Builder of God’, Gabriel is ‘The Messenger of God’, Uriel is ‘The Flame or Light of God’, and Castiel…”
“What is it?”
Sam shuts his laptop gently, presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, before completing the entire maneuver by running his fingers through his hair. This whole process indicates frustration and Dean recognizes it at once. “All I can find is ‘down comforter’, ‘inkwell’, and ‘decoration’ for the Hebrew translations… What the hell do those names indicate?”
“Maybe if you shove a pen in him you can get some ink? Or he’s a great blanket? Or that we can use him like a lawn gnome and have him scare off the neighborhood children?” Dean takes a smaller sip of beer as he gets up goes into the bathroom. “Just be happy he’s our ally and we don’t have to worry about duking it out with him.”
“I guess you’re right, but don’t stay up too late Dean. And please don’t use my laptop to look at porn… you’re gonna give my computer a virus someday, and I don’t know how you can think about that shit when Lucifer is nipping at our heels.”
Sam takes off his jacket and his pants as he gets into the bed to sleep, and it doesn’t take long for the younger brother to fall asleep. Dean closes the bathroom door and unzips his own pants and steps out of them while turning towards the toilet, but as he relieves his bladder Dean hears the shower curtain rustle.
Reaching for a weapon Dean remembers there’s one in his pocket, but it’s too late as a figure throws back the shower curtain. “Dean?”
“Holy shit Cas!” Dean exclaims, but keeps his voice low, trying not to disturb Sam in the next room. “What have I told you about keeping a comfortable distance? And what makes you think it’s okay to appear in someone’s bathroom while they’re taking a piss?”
“I’m sorry Dean, I forget about your human needs sometimes. But I have something important to tell you.” His icy blue eyes seemed to be probing Dean’s mind for information and it made the older Winchester incredibly uncomfortable.
“Look I can talk to you outside, just let me finish up and put on my pants.”
In a nanosecond Castiel has vanished from the bathroom and Dean snatches his pants off the ground angrily. Struggling to put the clothing on he grumbles, “Damn angels and their freaking reappearing, disappearing acts…”
Chugging the last of his beer, Dean throws the bottle into the trashcan next to the door, but hesitates to watch Sam. After being assured his younger brother is asleep, Dean silently slips out and closes the door behind him where he immediately finds himself face to face, once again, with Castiel.
“Alright, remind me to about comfort zones, because you clearly aren’t understanding what I’m trying to tell you.” Dean tries to push past the angel but suddenly finds himself pinned against the wall. “What the hell Cas?!”
He resists, believing that he has been betrayed once more by a ‘close friend’, but it wouldn’t be the first time. Sam being the most recent person had made it especially difficult for Dean to open up to anyone.
But suddenly Castiel’s surprisingly soft lips were pursuing Dean’s, and while one hand had the older Winchester trapped, the other hangs down by the angel’s side allowing Dean an escape route. Yet Dean doesn’t feel the need to flee anymore and allows his own hands to hesitantly pull Castiel closer.
With a sudden realization of where they are Dean pushes Castiel away and puts his hand up to cover his mouth. “We can’t do this here Castiel… Not with Sam right on the other side of this wall asleep. If he sees I’m gone then he’ll come looking for me.”
“You’re right, I apologize Dean.” The normal stoic expression returns to Castiel as he looks up towards the dark sky. “I miss the times when I could look up and see the stars, more innocent times, but I must focus on the present. Lucifer has been active once again somewhere in Missouri, but I haven’t pinpointed a location yet.”
Dean rolls his head in an annoyed fashion before facing the angel again, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I was wrong to act in that manner. I am supposed to be a virtuous angel, imagine if they were to discover my feelings towards you.”
Grinning Dean slips an arm around Castiel’s waist, “We can always pick up after we’ve put Lucifer back where he belongs… but can I ask you a random question?”
“Why does your name mean such weird things like inkwell or decoration?”
“Those are the Hebrew translations… my name originates from a Latin word meaning ‘small castle’.” An uncommon smile appears on Castiel’s lips, and Dean quickly kisses him once more.
“You should smile more, you look a lot more attractive that way.” With one last smirk Dean opens the motel room door, “Tomorrow we’ll go see Bobby to get some more information, see you Cas.”
Castiel finds himself alone once more, but he could read Dean’s body language and knew their encounter would soon be continued.