foolintherain | DEERINGTON INBOX

DEERINGTON INBOX

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"The phone has an incredible camera function on it as well as a very powerful flashlight. It also has a night vision setting, though the night vision setting drains the battery very fast. The regular battery life of these phones is 24 hours, but using the night vision will shorten the life span to only 8 hours."

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[ References to God and angels and what Castiel once was are always going to sting, but of all the people Cas has known, Dean is the only one who really understands him: what Cas was, what he lost, who he is now. It doesn't make the reminder any less painful, when Dean says it. In some ways, it hurts worse. But it's a good kind of pain. Cleansing. Purification by fire. Cas laughs from his chest, breathless and quiet against Dean's mouth. His fingers slide from Dean's hips to his lower back, dragging him in close, and he sucks in the groan Dean makes like oxygen. ]

Hallelujah.

[ Dean's hands are already tugging at his pants, so Cas braces his arms against the car door over his head and uses the momentum of Dean's hands and the friction of his body to wiggle out of his pants and kick them out of the way. Much more satisfying that way. There's almost no space to breathe, cramped in the backseat as they are, and that's wonderful. All there's room for is huffing against Dean's mouth and grinding against him, and if Cas weren't already achingly hard from all those deep kisses on the hood earlier, just rubbing against Dean like this in close quarters would be enough for him. It's bliss.

His pants dangling around one shin, as close to gone as they're going to get at the moment, Cas arches against Dean with a satisfied hum, threads his fingers through Dean's hair, and pulls him back in to luxuriate in more of those slow, deep kisses. ]

[ The Impala's backseat is only so big, so they're treated to a lot of grinding against one another in the shuffle to remove clothing. There's no complaints from Dean - he has to admire the view, watching intently as Cas wriggles out of his pants, lifts his hips and presses right against Dean as he drinks in the sight below him.

His own jeans are annoyingly snug around his cock, so he does some moving around himself, yanking at the zipper and shoving at them even as Cas drags him back in for slow, lapping kisses that leave Dean's head spinning, heart pounding sharp and heavy in his chest. He doesn't want to break from the kiss, too hungry for soft lips he's just now getting a taste of in Deerington.

His own stubbornness over the years is infuriating, because Cas hasn't made his interest any secret, not really. Dean was just too blind and stupid to see it.

Once he gets his jeans shoved down, he's pulling back just to take a moment to look down at Cas and marvel, run his hands down over his chest and belly, touch light, almost reverent. ]

You...are incredible. [ It slips out before Dean can stop himself and he looks embarrassed, because talk about being soft and lame as hell. ]

[ Language between people has always been complicated to Castiel. People lie, they're sarcastic, they use references as metaphors, they joke through sensitive issues, they say what they don't mean. He's spent so much of the last five years trying to adapt in myriad ways. Now he understands sarcasm and brandishes it as weapon. But lies and hidden truths, he still struggles with. "You know why," Dean has said, but Cas doesn't. There's nothing incredible about him. He is the personification, the very essence, of failure. The two possibilities, "You know why" and "You needed release; I was familiar," vie for attention in Cas's mind, and he shoves the thoughts violently away. His chest presses into Dean's hands as pulls Dean back down by the neck and lifts himself up to hush him and demand more kisses, instead. ]

I know... what I said was, "make it last," but...

[ Cas peppers the words softly between kisses to Dean's lips, and the corner of his mouth, and his jaw as he drops a hand to the seat and slides back, just a little, for leverage. He kisses Dean's neck and drags his teeth over his pulse gently as he slides his hand over Dean's chest, his stomach, and down between them to stroke his cock. ]

Dean... Please, I need you.

[ Yeah, it's not difficult to make Cas beg, apparently. ]

[ Humans are masters at nuance, at saying one thing and meaning another, at half truths and hidden meanings. An entire conversation can be held with just body language and eye contact, the brush of fingers over skin, a shy smile. You know why, Cas. You do. Maybe you're not admitting it to yourself, maybe Dean needs to grow a set and make the words happen, but deep down, you know.

Dean looks down at Cas and he sees him in new ways every time; his head in Dean's lap, the brush of his fingers over Dean's lips, how Cas pulled him down for a kiss, and Dean didn't resist.

He resists now, though, shivering at those warm fingers wrapping around his aching cock, tipping his head so he can catch Cas' lower lip briefly between his teeth before letting go. ]

Not yet. I want to make this last.

[ He sure hopes Cas packed some lube in that kit he brought out, cause that's what he's fumbling for, groping along the floorboard for cold plastic. HE doesn't need it quite yet, but he wants it handy for later. ]

[ As obvious as Cas has always made himself where Dean is concerned, there was never any doubt in Cas's mind that Dean cared about him. Dean is kind. He's infinitely loving, and that Dean is the closest thing Castiel has ever had to a friend is a real, inarguable truth. But anything that Dean could consider "incredible" about Castiel is a relic of the past.

Anyway, sex is honest, and it's easy. It's naked affection, blunt intimacy, and whatever reasons Dean has for allowing it— kindness, pity, or even love— Cas doesn't care, as long as he keeps getting it. He knows better than to take for granted the good things in life, because those good things never last. He makes a grunt of displeasure against Dean's mouth at being denied, but he's not really displeased at all. He's warmed, whole-feeling in a way he isn't anymore, except when Dean is touching him, or sleeping beside him, or smiling at him.

There is lube in the first aid kit dropped to the floor: Dean's, actually, since Cas hasn't managed to get ahold of his own yet. Don't mind Cas borrowing that, or making assumptions, but well. Dean was pretty obvious about his intentions earlier, and Cas isn't generally optimistic, but he does like to be prepared. He grins against Dean's mouth once he feels him reaching for it, glad at least that he won't have to wait as long as he would otherwise, and he keeps stroking Dean's cock slowly between them, twisting his wrist and thumbing the tip on the way up and teasing the wet of Dean's mouth with his tongue. ]

Afraid you won't be able to hold off once you're in me?

[ If Dean didn't want to kill half the camp for sleeping with Cas to begin with, he'd probably thank them for teaching Cas everything he knows about sex, because the way he twists his wrist and thumbs the tip of his cock has Dean groaning into Cas' mouth, sliding a hand up his side, over his chest and shoulder and up into his hair where he grips, tight, a full body shiver rolling down his spine. Goddamn. ]

I know I won't. [ Be able to, he means, because he's barely got a lid on now, let alone once he's buried balls deep inside his angel, hips flush. Cas is warm and supple, pliant under Dean and he meets the angels tongue with equal hunger, devouring him, committing the taste to memory, how it feels to pin him against the backseat, the scent of leather and sex hanging in the air.

He finds the little box and flicks it open, digs around until he finds what he's looking for. He doesn't open it though, not yet, instead he puts it within reach on the floorboard and slips a hand between the angels pretty thighs, wrapping his fingers around Cas. warm and strong. ]

[He offers a little smile, waving him to follow. Since the fog's lifting and leaving the actual sky to look at, Sammy's been eager to greet a real sun every morning. Much to Dean's henning, anyway. What? If something tries to carry him off the roof, he'll just start stabbing.]

Sure, c'mon. Just don't fall off the roof, okay?

I'm pretty sure Dean'll ground me for a year straight if you break something 'cus I brought you up here.

[ Cas chuckles at the image of Dean getting his hen feathers ruffled, and as he follows Sam through his room and to the window, he promises. ]

I'll be careful.

[ This won't be his first time climbing to a precarious place, though admittedly, he did break something while doing it once, but their were zombies involved, so that was a more harrowing experience than he plans on this one to be. He hasn't seen any fog monsters around the cabin, likely due to Sam and Dean's constant vigilance, so if anything does come at them from the roof, it'll be a surprise to at least three of them. Leave it to the youngest Winchester to be prepared for even the worst case scenario. ]

[He snorts.]

I don’t think anyone in this cabin really knows what it means to be careful.

[But he looks amused more than anything, walking carefully along the roofing. Dean did a really good job fixing up all of this, so it’s not gonna just cave in under them. That’s nice, right?

He sits down on the slope, feeling a bit more at ease. There’s a cool wind blowing that immediately relaxes him, a nice curtain of light piercing the last remaining, lingering veil of fog in the distance. Like how the light of the sun sometimes bursts through the clouds.]

It’s still kinda... hazy, I guess? But it sure beats staring at the ceiling.

[After they've had some time to rest from.. wow. All of Everything That Happened Yesterday. But Sam doesn't want to infringe on them too much.. them because Dean and Cas are very much a unit.. and both recovering.. and both.. Well. both a lot of things that Sam is still wrapping his head around.

So yes, he's texting. From inside the house. That they are both in. Right now. Smooth.]

How are you feeling?

[ The idea of going back to the worlds they came from always felt like an inevitability. Cas has only been in Deerington for just over two months, and the letter when he'd arrived had said that this was a dream. Dreams inevitably end. It's time to wake up.

Presumably, it's easier for him. He hasn't spent very long making friends with new people and rallying against Deerington-brand apocalypses Dean and the others have had to face. He never had to see Sam and hear Lucifer speaking through him. The end for Cas has always been roaring ever closer. ]

like the world is ending and theres nothing to do but pretend that it isnt until we're all gone

so you know, same ol same ol

[ It's always been Cas's modus operandi to follow Dean's lead, and whether that takes them back to their own world and a violent death, as it almost had, or to spending time playing house at the edge of the world, as long as Dean is there, Cas is as content as he's ever going to be. Though a part of him wishes there might've been some other, better way, he does his best to drink and smoke those ideas away. Sam, on the other hand is... always a complication, he's very much not like Dean. ]

feeling restless? i've got some chill pills if youre interested

[Wow, Cas. Even human- maybe especially human- you are nothing if not an enormous buzzkill.

And Sam thought he was bad.

Even worse, everything he has to say is valid.]

Tempting but maybe later. We can't all be high and look after ourselves.

[He is restless, though. Restless and exhausted and fearful. Scared of the void they're hurtling towards, scared of the catastrophe they've only just avoided, and scared of the consequences of his.. their actions to survive.

He's spent the night torching his car and their contaminated clothes; cleaning anything he thinks might have carried Croatoan into the house and keeping his hands busy to parry the churning mess in his head. An attempt has been made to reorder himself into something vaguely intelligible but more than the fear, he's angry. He's angry and hurt. Dean has never ditched him for Cas before, not ever. And okay it's selfish and kinda (really) fucked up but it's left him reeling. Granted he knows why Dean did what he did and granted this Dean is different no matter what Sam insists but.. maybe he's just pissed he didn't see it coming.]

Do me a favor though? Never pull a stunt like that again. I don't want to beat you to death but I'm not above it right now. You have a phone for a reason, try using it before you go catapulting off a cliff.

[ Oh Sam. Even if the lecture's out of concern for Cas's wellbeing (or Dean's instead, which - fair), it's far too late for chabging Cas's mind about... Well, pretty much anything. He likes Sam. They haven't spent much time together, but in getting to know this one, and his younger self these past few months, Cas has quickly learned that Sam wasn't what he thought he was, which is good. Except the sanctimonious goodness comes off a little stale to Cas. ]

are you saying i should have left a note first?

[ Baby Sam is still Sam, after all, and Cas wasn't the first one to jump off a bridge; he only did it because everyone else was, like a good little lemming. Sam is, or should be, smart enough to figure out why, but Cas makes it clear anyway, because he's too tired to be misinterpreted. ]

i dont think any of us is stupid enough to jump into our own worlds again, but i know three of you stupid enough to jump into someone else's, or into a glowing, writhing passageway towards something "new."

wherever dean goes, i'll follow. you can save you spleen venting for our fearless leader and his impetuously independent younger brother

[ Yes, Sam. That's you. Mostly the younger, but also both of you. ]

[Yeah yeah, but also fair enough. And don't worry, you're not the only one getting the lecture. You endverse guys.. it's like herding cats away from a meat grinder.]

There's enough spleen to go around. I'm allowed to worry about you.

[All of you. But damnit, Cas, you nearly got yourself and Dean killed. In a day or so he'll sit them all down with a pointed, tired look and just. None of you can ever do that again. Not to him. Don't you dare.]

Which brings me back to my question. Besides the existential dread, how are you feeling? Both of yo

[You know. His blood and holy oil in you and everything.]

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