Title: Fact or Fiction? (where Dean isn’t being Jealous at All)
Warnings: Season 6 spoilers, language, mild sexual situations
Summary: Written for d_hearts_c , prompt #58: Dean doesn't care about those smutty and/or sickeningly sweet slash fics about him and Cas or Destiel or whatever-the-fuck-it's-called. Really, he doesn't. So what's with the irrational anger he feels when he discovers 'Meg/Cas,' 'Balthazar/Cas,' and--good God!-'Sassy,' especially when the three pairings are gaining popularity and giving Dean/Cas some serious competition? Besides, those pairings are definitely baseless... right?
A/N: These are my excuses: first SPN fic, haven’t written in a while, English isn’t my first language. Also, commas are my personal special Hell, the bad kind of special Hell, so I apologize profusely for my atrocious punctuation. Also, I don't mean to bash any pairings; all opinions expressed are strictly Dean's :-)
It had been hours and Dean was feeling restless already. He wanted to go out and drink, maybe get into a fight. Throwing a couple of punches would do wonders for his frazzled nerves. The problem was that Sam was still in front of the laptop, staring at it with morbid fascination. For the first hour, watching his brother’s face switch through various degrees of revulsion had been entertaining. At some point, however, the horrified grimace had turned into a smirk and that? That was frankly disturbing, and there was only so much Dean could take before snapping.
“Jesus, Sammy! Will you drop the weird message-board stalking thing? They are full of crazies who think we are into each other! Please tell me that you aren’t reading gay porn about us!”
Sam looked at him and the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth turned positively evil.
“Oh, I’m not reading it, just looking around. And it’s not about us, it’s about you and Castiel.”
“WHAT?!” Dean grabbed the laptop from his brother’s hands and stared at the screen, refusing to believe this shit. Yet, there it was. Someone was asking for links to ‘good Dean/Cas fics’. There were replies. Lots of replies. With descriptions. His eyes stuttered over the words ‘wing!porn’ and he quickly pushed the computer away. If his stomach decided to flutter at that point, surely he could attribute it to disgust.
“So, according to our ‘fans’ I’m either fucking my own brother, or an angel of the Lord. Why do these people think that everyone is gay? I’m not gay!”
Sam cleared his throat pointedly. Dean flushed.
“Aw, come on! That’s different. Life on the road is hard; sometimes you need to make do with what you have!” Banging a dude every once in a while did not make him gay… much.
“I’m sure that’s what lone shepherds on isolated pastures think when they look at their sheep.”
Dean shot a disbelieving look at his brother’s smug face.
“I can’t believe you said that! You know what? I don’t care. Let them write whatever they want, just don’t make me read it. Now turn this damn thing off and let’s go for a drink!”
Sam was reading something on the laptop with a deep frown, something between ‘confused’ and ‘constipated’. Dean looked up and grinned. Jesus, he’d missed Sammy’s funny faces. The expressionless mask he wore before he got his soul back was downright creepy.
“Got something interesting there?”
“It’s weird,” Sam muttered. “The Apocalypse is over; Chuck should be done with the whole prophecy thing, right?”
Dean shrugged and got back to cleaning his guns.
“I guess so.”
“Well, he isn’t. There are new Supernatural books popping up every so often and they are pretty up to date with recent events.”
Dean almost spilled the gun oil and scrambled to keep the bottle upright.
“Oh, that’s just great. More fodder for the rabid fangirls.”
“Erm, yeah.” Sam was avoiding Dean’s eyes and staring at the laptop like it contained the answers to all the mysteries of the universe. Dean groaned.
“You are reading this shit again, aren’t you? What the fuck, Sammy!”
“Okay, I know! I know it’s ridiculous, but once you start it’s like a train wreck, dude! The ideas those people have!” He was blushing, like, a lot. Dean grinned.
“Aw, Samantha, did something offend your delicate sensibilities?” Sam glared at him.
“No! There’s just some stuff here about Cas that kinda threw me. It’s wrong, man… I mean, he’s an angel!”
“That’s what all the virginal blushing is about? It didn’t seem to bother you when you shoved it in my face a couple of years ago. Besides, the poor dude is so wrapped up with his heavenly war that he barely has time to stop and say “Hi!”, and I’ve been kinda busy trying to get your soul back. When do they think we find the time for our epic love affair?” Dean refused to be bothered by the fact that people were still spewing porn starring Cas and him. After all, it wasn’t real, it was just stories, and horny fangirls letting their imagination run wild.
“That’s just it, it’s not about you, it’s about Cas and other… people. That kiss with Meg certainly gave people ideas. Oh, and Balthazar, and…” Sam was beetroot red and he was still speaking, but Dean couldn’t hear him over the rush of blood in his ears. He reached across the table and spun the laptop around, ignoring Sam’s yelp of indignation about getting gun oil on the keyboard. Dean scanned the page and glowered at it. What were these people thinking?!
“Okay, this is completely ridiculous. Meg is a total skank, even if she wasn’t a demon; Balthazar is a kleptomaniac who steals children’s souls and heavenly weapons… What the fuck does ‘Sassy’ mean?” Dean’s eyes widened and he glared at Sam. “You!”
Sam raised his eyebrows and leaned away from his brother.
“Dude, easy! Jealous much? You’re acting like I stole your boyfriend… who is not your boyfriend, unless you want to tell me something.”
“Of course he’s not my boyfriend! And I’m not jealous.” Dean pushed away the laptop and crossed his arms defensively. “It just surprised me.”
Sam gave him a disbelieving look.
“You sure as hell sound like it!”
Dean just growled, “Shut up, bitch!” and pointedly returned to cleaning the guns. Sam raised his hands in defeat and grabbed the keys from the table.
“Whatever, jerk. I’m going to get food and you’d better be over your non-jealousy by the time I get back.” He closed the door, leaving Dean to fume in silence.
He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t; well, maybe a little possessive. After all, Cas was the only thing in Dean’s life that he considered somehow pure, untainted. What right did they have to drag him down with the likes of Meg and that smarmy bastard Balthazar? Yes, Cas had kissed that damn hell-bitch, but he still seemed clueless what the whole thing was about. And he said that Balthazar was a friend, nothing more, plus there was the whole weapon-stealing issue. And just the idea of Cas and Sam… Dean shuddered and shoved the thought away. He wasn’t even thinking about that one.
There was a little voice in the back of his head which reminded him that he hadn’t been so upset when people were writing about Cas and him. After the initial freak-out, he had taken it in stride, there hadn’t been this rage churning in his gut. Oh, how he hated that voice…
Dean finished cleaning the last gun and stole a glance at the laptop, sitting innocently on the table. He had some time until Sam got back. Just a peek wouldn’t hurt. With the heavy feeling that he was going to regret it, he grabbed it and started reading.
When Sam returned with food and beer, Dean was watching TV, and the computer was turned off. If Sam found the remains of a broken glass in the thrash, or noticed the spot where the contents had splashed on the wall, he didn’t mention it. Dean was grateful. It had been a very educational afternoon and he had reached some conclusions, but he wasn’t going to talk about it. Ever. After all, that river called “denial” was deep and wide, and Dean had always been comfy right in the middle of it.
A couple of days later, they were resting after an uneventful salt-and-burn when the flutter of wings announced Castiel’s arrival.
“Hello, Dean. Sam.”
Dean looked away from the TV for a brief “Hi” and focused again on the WWII documentary he was pretending to watch. Shit. He hadn’t considered the consequences of his extra-curricular reading, and now that Cas was in the same room Dean was finding it difficult to even look at him. He could tell that Sam was staring at him, but he chose to ignore his little brother’s silent “WTF?”
After several minutes of awkward silence, Sam cleared his throat.
“Hey, Cas! What’s going on, do you have info for us or something?”
“No. There is a temporary truce and I needed to… get away for a while. I decided to visit. Is it a bad time?” Dean could feel Cas throwing glances at him, and stubbornly kept his eyes on the TV.
“No, no, we just finished a hunt. We’re always glad to see you, aren’t we Dean?” Dean glared daggers at his brother, but grunted in affirmation. Sam was on his own trying to keep up the conversation, and of course he took it in the direction Dean wanted to avoid at all costs.
“So, um, we actually wanted to ask about the Supernatural books?” Cas just stared at him blankly. “The gospels?”
“What about them?”
“The Apocalypse is over, I thought Chuck would be off prophet duty by now. But the books are still coming out.”
“They are the Winchester gospels, Sam. They are about you and your brother. Your lives go on, so does the prophecy.”
Dean groaned and buried his head in his hands.
“Great. That’s just great. It’s never going to end.”
Sam cleared his throat again and grabbed his wallet. Before Dean could stop him, he was already outside.
“I’ll go get us some food and drinks, all right? You two… catch up or something.”
The door closed and Dean’s shoulders slumped. He was so, so screwed.
“Dean, have I done something to upset you?” Cas sounded… almost hurt and Dean groaned inwardly. He’d gone and offended the poor bastard and none of this shit was his fault. He wasn’t the one feeding prophecies to Chuck, and he definitely didn’t have anything to do with the stuff people wrote on the internet. Or Dean’s reactions to it. He manned up and looked away from the TV into Cas’ worried eyes.
“Nah, you didn’t do anything, I just have stuff on my mind. And I hate people reading about my personal life.” A lame excuse, but it would have to do. Cas blinked in confusion.
“Dean, they don’t know you. They don’t even know you are real, that any of us are real.”
“Yeah, and that makes them think it’s all right to write tons of explicit porn about me. Or you, for that matter.” Damn… his mouth was running ahead of his brain again.
Cas flushed and his eyes widened. He looked kind of adorable, and holy shit, Dean did not just think that.
“Why would they do that?” He sounded honestly confused and yeah, Dean could relate.
“I have no idea. But the stuff they think you’re getting up to with your buddy Balthazar could make you want to gouge your eyes out.” He wasn’t fishing for information. He just liked to ruffle Cas’ feathers, that was all. Still, when Cas didn’t flush, look away, or show any other signs of guilt, Dean felt a little lighter. Just a little.
“Dean, Balthazar used to be my friend when we were still in Heaven. As far as I know, sex requires owning a physical body, so I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“You’d be surprised, dude… there are some creative people out there.” He shuddered slightly. “Also, did you really have to kiss Meg?”
It was Castiel’s turn to shudder.
“Can we… not talk about this? It was not one of my best moments. I can assure you that I am not engaging in any sort of fornication with demons.”
“People think that you are.”
“This is ridiculous. Show me!”
Uh-oh, that wasn’t part of the plan.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, man. There is some pretty explicit stuff there…” Cas pinned him with an exasperated look.
“Dean, I was around when Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed! I doubt this can be much more explicit that that. Now show me, I want to see!”
Dean gave up, opened the history of the laptop and sat quietly, hoping Cas would be done quickly.
Unfortunately, Castiel was nothing but thorough. He read with focused determination, frowning from time to time. At one point, he looked up and seriously said, “I am also not engaging in any sort of fornication with your brother.”
Dean laughed nervously.
“All right, that’s good to know. Come on, aren’t you done already?”
“No, there is one more.” Dean went white and for a moment considered ‘accidentally’ spilling water on the laptop before Cas could click the next link, but it was too late. The page was loading and Dean closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
“Oh…” The exclamation was almost a whisper, but Dean caught it. He opened one eye to assess the reaction. Cas was staring at the screen, his head tilted slightly and eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“This one is about you and me,” Cas said matter-of-factly. Dean tried to sound like he didn’t give a damn.
“Oh, yes, our big love story. You pulled me out of Hell, you disobeyed because of me, and I brained Alistair with a tire iron to save you… somewhere in the minds of the fans all this turns into signs of our undying devotion. And apparently we stare at each other too much… like now, for example.” Yeah, he had to admit, there was a lot of staring going on, and he couldn’t quite decipher the look in Castiel’s eyes. “Dude, what?”
“Did you read these, Dean?” The angel’s voice had dropped even lower than usual and it was doing funny things with Dean’s stomach.
“Um, yeah? Kind of?” He was squirming in his seat as Cas leaned closer.
“Did they make you uncomfortable?” Cas seemed determined to pursue the issue, and Dean decided he couldn’t talk his way around this one. Hell, he didn’t want to. Truth was, he hated lying to Cas.
“Yes, they made me uncomfortable! I hated reading about you and Balthazar, about you and Meg, about you and my fucking brother! I know it’s just words, but I hated it! You’re my angel and my friend, and I hardly even see you anymore, and I miss you, and it sucks, man!” God, he sounded like a twelve-year old girl, but at that point? He didn’t care. Cas was still looking at him and he was so close that Dean could see the different shades of blue in his eyes.
“And the last one, did it make you uncomfortable?”
Dean swallowed and figured, fuck it!
“No,” he whispered, “it didn’t. I liked it. I hated that it wasn’t real.”
He wasn’t exactly surprised when Cas’ lips connected with his, but still he was relieved. Somewhere along the way the connection he had always felt with the angel had turned into something more and he was glad he wasn’t the only one who felt that.
Cas clearly didn’t know what he was doing, but he was a fast learner. Dean stood up and dragged Cas with him, because he needed full-body contact, like, yesterday, and he went willingly. At first he let Dean take the lead, but soon he got adventurous with kisses and bites along Dean’s neck and Dean shivered in delight. Cas crowded him against the wall and nuzzled the sensitive spot behind his ear. Dean groaned and pressed his hips forward, seeking friction. Cas pressed right back and made a low, guttural sound that went straight to Dean’s cock. Suddenly they were wearing way, way too many clothes and they needed to get horizontal.
“Bed,” he managed to gasp before Cas kissed him again. With pushes and shoves he managed to direct them until Cas’ knees hit the bed and they both fell in a tangle of limbs. He definitely didn’t want to let go anytime soon, but still he had to ask, “Don’t they need you back in Heaven?”
Cas blinked, as if he had forgotten what was going on upstairs.
“I suppose they do. But for now… I believe the right expression is ‘screw them’. They can manage.”
Well, Dean wasn’t going to argue. He leaned down and lost himself in his angel’s heated kisses. At some point the door opened and there was a horrified yelp. Cas’ mouth was busy, but Dean managed to yell, “Close the fuckin’ door, Sam, and go sleep in the car or something.” After that, there were no more interruptions.
Breakfast was awkward; well, awkward for Sam. Dean felt too good to care, and Cas was acting like his usual inscrutable self. If it wasn’t for Sam throwing mortified glances at both of them, it could have been a morning like any other.
When Cas had to leave, Dean grabbed his sleeve just before he could flutter off and pulled him close for a kiss. His brother’s groan only urged him to make it longer and messier until Cas pulled away, lips swollen and hair even more mussed than usual.
“This is the sort of goodbye I expect from now on,” Dean whispered in his angel’s ear. Cas stepped back reluctantly and nodded.
“I will try to remember. I really have to go now. Goodbye, Sam.” A muffled squeak from the table was the only answer before Cas disappeared.
“Is it safe to look?” Sam’s voice was still muffled and Dean rolled his eyes.
“Enough drama, Sasquatch. Finish your breakfast and let’s hit the road.”
Sam made a show of peeking through his fingers before removing his hands with an exaggerated sign of relief.
“Really, Dean? Really? You had to go and sex up an angel? Castiel?! What happened to ‘I’m not jealous’?”
“Stop bitching, Sammy. Go read some fanfiction; it might help you get over your trauma.”
Sam made a retching noise and grabbed his laptop, muttering, “I’m so deleting my browser history.”
Dean just grinned and sipped his coffee. Life was good.