Destiel / "Damn it, Janet" The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Happy 4th wedding anniversary to all who celebrate! @destielvalentineszine2025 inspired me to actually make something for the first time in like 2 or 3 years, so go check out all the submissions!
Summary: The first time Dean kisses Cas, it’s for a case. Just for a case. Nothing more. Dean absolutely doesn’t feel anything when they kiss. The second time Dean kisses Cas, it’s because they’re trapped by a monster, and Dean has something to prove to the monster. But it’s not real, right? The third time Dean kisses Cas, he doesn’t know if he’s trying to prove something to himself or to Cas. A kiss is just a kiss; it doesn’t mean anything, right? Unless maybe it’s time to acknowledge that kissing can mean something if it’s with the right person— or in Dean’s case, the right Angel.
Word count 2,201 (continued under the read more). Also posted on ao3.
The first time Dean kisses Cas, it’s for a case. Just for a case. Nothing more.
They needed a distraction. Something to confuse the monster.
And, to be fair, Dean blames Sam anyway. Because Sam seems to know the monster's weakness before Dean does, and Sam grabs Eileen and kisses her. The monster, some weird Aztec entity, begins thrashing about, unable to focus on anything; as if the kiss was shattering something inside of it.
The creature wheels away from Sam and Eileen, and then its eyes lock on Cas, who’s standing just a couple of feet in front of Dean.
And what is Dean supposed to do? Just stand there and watch Cas get attacked by this creature with gnashing teeth and razor sharp claws?
The monster tears its way towards Cas, snarling and spitting, and Dean quickly reaches out and yanks the Angel closer before he becomes monster lunch meat.
“Trust me?” Dean asks, pulling Cas into his personal space.
Cas blinks in surprise before squinting at Dean. “Yes, of course I-”
Dean doesn't wait for the rest of the sentence. Just yanks Cas closer and brings their mouths together in a rush of a kiss.
A small sound of surprise slips from Cas’ lips and melts into Dean’s mouth, and then Cas is kissing Dean back. Their mouths find a perfect sync instantaneously as Cas tilts his head and slots his lower lip between Dean’s lips. There’s something about the way Cas hums softly as their lips glide against each other that has Dean completely dizzy.
Oh God, kissing Cas shouldn’t feel this good.
But Cas is leaning into it, hands settling on Dean’s waist as Dean traces his tongue over Cas’ lip. A shiver dances down Dean’s spine, and he finds himself chasing the taste of crackling energy and the hum of Grace.
When Dean pulls away, breathless, the monster is on the ground, writhing and shrieking. Without any hesitation, Cas throws his blade at the monster’s head, and it stops with a final jerking motion.
Cas’ eyes flicker back to Dean, a spark of hope glinting within the bright blue, and Dean feels the panic seize in his chest.
Shit.
He just kissed his best friend.
The words jump up Dean’s throat before he can stop them. “Well, glad that plan worked.”
There’s a change in Cas’ expression that feels like that angel blade had lodged itself into Dean’s chest; Cas’ face crumpling for a fraction of a second, before he nods once and shifts his gaze away from Dean. “Always at your service, Dean.”
Before Dean can say anything, Cas walks away.
Even though he can’t explain why, Dean can’t help but feel like he did something wrong.
~
The second time Dean kisses Cas, they’re stuck, trapped by some weird monster mashup that’s going around killing anyone with a happy life.
Something about people not deserving happy endings.
“And what about you, Hunter? What’s your happy ending? Who’s the one you go to at the end of the day?” the monster jeers.
Dean can’t help the way his eyes flicker towards Cas. Cas. The one he watches movies with. The one who sits and talks to him while he cooks. The one who Dean can't imagine not having by his side.
The monster laughs, sick and twisted, making Dean’s insides crawl. “Him? You want me to believe he’s your happy ending?”
Now Dean’s stomach is lurching for a different reason. He hasn’t thought of it like that. Or, well, maybe he has. Since that kiss a few weeks ago on the Aztec monster hunt, Dean hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the Angel’s lips on his. The soft sounds Cas made. The inexplicable way he wants to feel that surge again, even though he knows it’s a bad idea.
Part of him wants more. And part of him screams not to go down that road. Because if they go there, if they cross that line, there is no going back.
Now, Dean lets his eyes flicker to Cas, and he can’t stop himself from saying, “Yeah, he is.”
The monster sneers. “Well go on then. Prove it.”
The only thing racing through Dean’s mind is kiss him, kiss him, kiss him.
Shifting closer until he’s crouching next to the angel, Dean leans into Cas’ space, his eyes flickering down to Cas’ lips. Cas seems to get the hint before Dean can say it.
‘Still trust me?’ Dean mouths.
Cas nods imperceptibly, and Dean takes the bait. Closing the gap, Dean presses their lips together. Instantly, he can feel the tension in the way Cas’ mouth feels against his, and suddenly Dean needs to ease that stiffness. Needs to feel Cas melt.
Slowly, Dean glides his tongue along the seam of Cas’ mouth, letting his hands slip into the hair at the back of Cas’ neck.
A stuttering gasp falls from Cas’ mouth, and then Cas is kissing him back, one hand settling on Dean’s shoulder and the other falling to the hem of his shirt. There’s a soft sigh that escapes between their lips as Dean slips his tongue into Cas’ mouth, brushing against Cas’ tongue before darting away to explore his mouth.
Cas pulls him closer, fingertips skimming across Dean’s hip and pressing into skin, and God, Dean feels like he’s seeing stars.
This kiss is just as good as their first kiss. God. No. It’s better than their first one.
Not a once off. Definitely not just a fluke.
Cas is getting more bold now, his tongue teasing against Dean’s as his fingers inch higher up Dean’s waist and across his back. Dean pulls back slightly from the kiss, and Cas chases him, catching Dean’s lower lip between his own. Just as Dean considers how good it would be to tangle their tongues together for more than a fleeting second, there’s a slow clap behind them that makes Dean pull away.
Right. The monster.
“You’ve proven yourselves. That was quite a show.”
Finally, Sam bursts into the room- ten minutes late… or maybe five minutes too early considering the fact Dean’s brain was still stuck on the idea of wrapping his tongue around Cas’- with Jack and Eileen close behind, and together they take the creature out.
“How’d you keep him distracted for so long?” Sam asks as they make their way back to the Impala.
“Improvised,” Dean mutters, his mind stuck replaying the way Cas’ fingers trailed over his skin as they kissed.
“It was just for the case, right? Nothing more than that,” Dean asks Cas later that night once they’re back in the Bunker, and Dean already has an escape route back to his room planned out in his mind.
Cas’ expression flickers, and Dean can almost see the walls going up between them. “Right. Just for the case,” Cas replies stiffly before brushing past Dean on the way to his own room.
Somehow, Dean feels like that wasn’t the answer either of them were looking for.
~
The third time Dean kisses Cas, he doesn’t know if he’s trying to prove something to himself or to Cas.
“A kiss is just that. A kiss. It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Dean argues.
Cas crosses his arms, then thinks better of it and points at the now black screen of the TV that the movie had been playing on moments before. “And how do you explain that?”
“That Hollywood bullcrap? That’s all it is, Cas. Movie magic. They’re actors. It’s all a show meant to convince you that the characters are in love, but not the actors. Their kisses are as fake as the ones we’ve shared.”
Wrong choice of words, Winchester. Real wrong.
Cas’ expression morphs into a painting of hurt, rejection, and anger. “That was all fake, huh?”
“Yes! We agreed it was just for the case. It didn’t mean anything,” Dean snaps. Except, even he isn’t sure he believes those words. Not with the way his dreams have all been centered on angelic lips and soft sounds of pleasure in Cas’ deep baritone.
Cas is almost shaking now, his eyes glinting blueish white with Grace. “You didn’t feel anything when you kissed me?”
“No,” Dean says, and then, because he’s an idiot, “And I’ll prove it to you.”
Pushing into Cas’ space, Dean grabs hold of Cas’ tie and yanks him forward into a bruising kiss. Their teeth clash, and Dean hurries the kiss along. Because if he lingers… if he feels the way Cas kisses him back…
Quickly, Dean pulls away with a scoff. “See? Nothing. All fake.”
But now there’s a glint in Cas’ eyes. A challenge? Cas’ tone doesn’t match that expression, though. Not when he opens his mouth and whispers, “No, Dean. Kiss me like before. Like you did those other times. Kiss me like that, and then tell me it doesn’t mean anything.”
Dean feels like the ground has slipped away from his feet, leaving him free-falling. It’s too late now to back down. Too late to escape this thing that was between them; swirling emotions and unnamed desires. All he can do is kiss Cas and hope… hope what? Hope Cas doesn’t feel it too? Or hope that he does and it’s not one-sided? Or hope that his feelings are getting crossed like wires; that what he’d felt those first two times were just a fluke?
“Kiss me, Dean,” Cas murmurs again, half goading and half pleading.
Reeling Cas in by the tie once again, Dean leans in and locks their lips together. Not harsh and rushed like before, but slow and soft, just like their first two kisses.
Cas instantly melts against him, lips parting on a breathy exhale as Dean’s tongue slips into his mouth. This time, Cas grants his unspoken wish. Their tongues brush against each other, but instead of pulling away, Cas tangles them together softly. A groan is punched from Dean’s lungs at the same time Cas lets out a string of stuttering little gasps.
Cas’ hands slip under the back of Dean’s shirt, palms gliding along Dean’s spine and settling low on his hips. Their lips meld against each other, moving and gliding softly before parting and finding each other again. Cas’ slips his tongue into Dean’s mouth, and Dean lets him, too busy tracing over Cas’ lips over and over again with his own. There’s a slight tilt to the shape of Cas’ mouth, and it’s only after Dean has kissed every inch of his lips does he realize that Cas is smiling.
God. That shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but Dean just can’t get enough.
Cas moves to break the kiss, hedging out of Dean’s space, but Dean nudges back in, his nose bumping softly against Cas’ before he seals their lips together again. With one hand still wrapped in the tie, Dean moves his free hand to settle against Cas’ jaw, tracing the stubble there with his thumb. There’s a breathy moan of pleasure from Cas, and Dean swallows the sound before chasing the source into another kiss and another.
When they finally break apart, both gasping for air, Dean feels like he’s not just falling anymore. He’s floating.
“Tell me it doesn’t mean anything,” Cas whispers brokenly, his fingers gripping against Dean’s waist, even as he leans out of Dean’s space. “Tell me it’s fake and you don’t feel what this is between us.”
The lie is right there on the tip of Dean’s tongue. To say he doesn't feel it. To say this wasn’t anything but an exaggerated kiss for show. But he can’t do it. Not when kissing Cas feels this good. Not when he wants to do it again and again until the only thing he can taste is Cas on his tongue.
Dean’s leans in again, watching Cas’ expression as he brushes his lips to the corner of Cas’ mouth. “If I say it’s real, will you kiss me again?”
“Yes,” Cas replies, no hesitation.
“Real, real, so fucking real,” Dean mutters, pressing the words against the edge of Cas’ mouth.
Cas grins, and Dean can feel the shape of Cas’ smile against his lips. “So kissing me means something then?”
Dean huffs out a laugh, his breath ghosting along Cas’ cheek. “Yes, alright, it does. You win. Now would you stop asking questions and just go back to kissing me already?”
The angel tilts his head, catching Dean’s mouth with his own. Tugging Dean back down onto the couch, Cas murmurs against Dean’s lips, “Was waiting for you to ask me that.”
Dean feels himself smile into the kiss this time. “Less asking questions, more kissing,” he mumbles against Cas’ mouth, pushing the trenchcoat off of Cas’ shoulders as he moves to straddle Cas’s lap.
“Deal,” Cas huffs out, his hands slipping back under Dean’s shirt as their lips meld together again in another breathtaking kiss.
Maybe Dean hadn’t been ready to admit it before, but now, with Cas between his legs and his lips mapping out every detail of Cas’ mouth, Dean is more than happy to spend the rest of the night, and every night after that, making out with his angel.
you should rewatch faith 1x12. good for religious trauma girlies. he's DYING mer. he has dark circles and a hoodie and he can hardly walk. he doesn't think he deserves to be saved. i could go on but you get the point
i'm adding it to my docket !! i'm just also... a nightmare at processing audiovisual stimulation at the same time, so despite the fact that i watch supernatural at 1.25speed, it will still probably take me several hours.
