Fix You With My Love - Dean × Castiel.
Castiel warned as he walked out of the constricted bathroom, a wet, blood-stained napkin in his hands.
Dean grunted in response, clutching onto his right shoulder, wincing when his finger brushed against the gaping stab wound. Although Castiel had managed to wipe away most of the dripping blood, the redness remained. The bathroom they were in made Dean feel claustriphobic. A narrow side of the bathroom was for the shower, and just about four tiles worth of space for the sink and toilet.
Dean sat on the closed toilet, a small stool kept in front of him, where Castiel had been sitting to tend to Dean. Not being able to wear a shirt, under any other circumstances, would be great, but not right now, when the heater in their cheap motel room had broken down, and winter was right around the corner.
Castiel walked back in with a bag in his hand.
Dean asked, eyeing the small fanny pack sort of bag.
"Gauze, bandage, disinfectant, needles, medical thread, antiseptics, painkillers."
"You coulda' just said a first-aid kit."
"You asked what was in it."
"You're stupid as fuck, y'know."
"And you're cranky and immature. Shut up."
Castiel retorted, and seated himself down on the tiny little stool, between Dean's legs, scrutinizing eyes fixed onto the wound.
Castiel's eyes flicked from Dean's chest and up to his shoulders, before moving down onto the bag. He took a deep breath, and retrieved some cotton from the bag, along with a bottle of antiseptic liquid, and soaked the cotton with some of it. He placed the bottle down next to his foot, and leaned forward, placing the cotton below the wound, causing Dean to hiss aloud. He winced, looking away and locking his jaw as the cotton moved with gentle strokes along the sides of the wound.
Dean had removed the knife, although painful, and Castiel had, of course, yelled at him for that about bloodloss, hygiene and infections and blah-blah-blah.
Castiel said, his voice quivering and shaky. His lips remained parted, and eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on the wound on Dean's arm.
Dean gritted through his teeth, hissing as Castiel's nimble fingers retreated from the wound.
"Alright. This is the hard part, and when it's over, you'll be okay. Yeah?"
Castiel said, chewing on his bottom lip.
"You're stitching it? You sure?"
Castiel said, and averted his gaze to look straight into Dean's eyes.
Castiel had honest eyes, modest and assuring. Dean had seen them a hundred times before. He'd seen them up close too, for the past two weeks, when they went to bed next to each other. But he'd never seen them the way he was seeing them at that moment. He didn't know why or how they pulled him in, drowning him within them. He didn't even know if Castiel looked at everyone like that, or just Dean. Dean liked to think it was just him.
Castiel urged, and Dean blinked back to the present, mumbling something incoherent. Castiel simply narrowed his eyes and then went back to fishing items out of his bag.
The moment, everything about it, seemed so overtly domestic, although people wouldn't exactly call stitching someone's stab wound a domestic act, for Dean, who'd been on the police force for ages now, and who'd seen Castiel grow along side him, always believing he was his rival, instead of his friend, and ending up being paired with him for an undercover operation, it seemed like something had bloomed between the two of them. Something they never spoke about. Something that they only showed when their fingers brushed while exchanging weapons, something that could only be seen when Dean would slip his arm around Castiel's waist and pull him back with caution, when they went about spying and were close to getting caught, something that they only knew existed when they both went to sleep next to each other, silently wishing they could do that every night, something so obvious and oblivious at the same time, that no matter how much they seemed to care for each other, all that would come out of the both of them was stone-cold bickering.
But now, sitting here in front of each other, so vulnerable and naked, not physically, but emotionally bare, not having any other option except to face what they kept neglecting for days, it made Dean's skin burn. Sitting here, he could see just how attractive Castiel was, his smooth tanned skin, tinted with pink at his cheeks, his blue eyes, accentuated by the light pinkness of his lips, and his messy raven black hair, sticking out and falling against his face in some places.
Absently, Dean reached out and brushed some hair away from Castiel's forehead, who was busy threading the needle. At Dean's touch, he whipped his head up, eyes searching Dean's, lips falling open and shutting back, as his tongue ran over to glaze the bottom lip. Every primal instinct in Dean's body urged him to lean forward and taste them, but he knew where to draw the line. Besides, Castiel and him were simply colleagues. Nothing could ever work out between them.
Atleast he tried to convince himself it wouldn't.
Dean mumbled, glancing away and back at Castiel, who seemed to have threaded the needle. He kept nibbling at the side of his bottom lip, and Dean noticed the red that had begun peeking ever so slightly.
Dean said, flicking his finger against Castiel's bottom lip.
Castiel's eyes shot up, and it seemed like his breath had caught in his throat. Well, erm, now that Castiel peered at Dean with such genuine innocence, it was hard for Dean to remain focused as well.
Castiel said, and drew a deep breath, holding his hand up to the start of the wound.
Castiel murmured, his eyes softening and fixing onto the wound. Dean shut his eyes with anticipation of the pain that was to come.
"You uh- you should've waited for me-"
"I really don't want to hear you lecture me about not following the plan-"
"You could've been hurt way worse."
Dean opened his eyes just a peek, only to find Castiel was concentrated on his wound, the needle having sewn through his skin at the start.
Dean winced, hissing and grunting as Castiel continued to sew the needle through Dean's skin.
"It's alright Cas, it's just a stab wound."
"He was going to stab you in the chest, Dean."
"But he didn't. You shot him, and you saved me."
"I didn't do shit. You held them off for so long, I couldn't have done that if it weren't for you, and now I feel bad, because I feel like I gave you the riskier part of the plan, which is why you're hurt."
Castiel complained, and Dean tried not to smile at his little pout.
"Don't blame yourself, Cas. I've had worse before, okay? A basic stab wound isn't going to hurt me. I mean, at least not as much as the other things I've been through."
Dean assured him, and Castiel's bottom lip quirked.
"I just wish we could've gotten out without you getting hurt."
"They don't train you for all those years for nothin'."
Dean joked, butterflies fluttering around his stomach when Castiel smiled.
"You like doing this, don't you? Getting so close to danger, and then getting off on the thrill of it, not caring how it bites you back."
Castiel shook his head, and though what he said should've stung Dean, the concern that laced his words made Dean's lips twitch in a soft smile.
It's why I dared to fall in love with you.
A voice supplied from the back of his mind, and he dismissed it when Castiel scoffed.
"Because I can't see you like this."
He knew he was pushing Cas to his limit, but he didn't care. He wanted answers. Answers only Cas could give him.
After what seemed like ages, Castiel looked back at Dean, staring straight at him.
Castiel breathed, grabbing a small blade and snipping the excess thread off.
"Why do you ask so many questions?"
"Because I want answers; reasons."
Dean shrugged, cringing at the shard of pain that struck his arm as he lifted it.
"It's better if I keep them to myself."
Castiel stated, and dug into the bag to retrieve a fresh roll of gauze and bandage. He used another antiseptic-soaked cotton swab to clean the area around Dean's sutures.
"Why are you so stubborn!?"
Castiel scolded, being pushed over his limits already. He glared at Dean, breathing heavy and deep, which seemed to shut Dean up, as he looked away with dismay.
Shaking his head, Cas slid his hand under Dean's arm, pressing his palm against the warm underside of Dean's arm, and began wrapping the gauze around the wound.
Castiel sighed, wrapping the roll around Dean's arm several times, keeping it loose enough to allow air to circulate.
"I can't tell you, because if I did... It would... It would change things..."
Castiel breathed, tying the loose ends of the bandage together.
Dean swallowed, and Castiel looked up at him.
Their eyes met like stones flicking against each other, and the spark that erupted traveled deep within both of their bones.
Dean suggested, and Cas gave a soft nod, his eyes already wandering down to Dean's lips.
It wasn't hesitant in any way, but there was a precise determination that lingered within the air, like a slow tide of water immersing them.
Castiel shut his eyes and parted his lips, his hand settling on Dean's thigh, as he leaned forward. Dean watched Cas for a moment, just the sight of him, waiting to be touched and felt, had arousal swirling around the pit of Dean stomach.
Dean slid his free hand around the back of Cas's head, tangling his fingers within his messy black hair and tugging Castiel forward, punching a loud gasp out of his plush, peachy lips. Dean leaned down, shutting his eyes, and they met in the middle, lips slotting into each other's.
A moan escaped Castiel's mouth, rumbling between their mouths, as he surged forward, tilting his head, trying to taste every inch of Dean's lips, his hands sliding up Dean's thigh, to his hips.
Dean opened his mouth, prodding his tongue inside Castiel's lips, as he moved back on his seat, pulling Cas up, onto his lap with his free hand. It helped that Cas was so keen, and straddled Dean's hips willingly, hands sliding around his neck, avoiding his wound, as Dean dragged his hands up Castiel's waist and slid them up his back, under his threadbare t-shirt, the touch causing Cas to shiver and hum into their heated kiss.
Their chests rocked together, both of them cautiously avoiding any touching near Dean's wound, as Castiel rubbed against Dean's crotch, tongue circling around Dean's, grazing against the roof of Dean's tongue, as they kissed -no, scratch that- made out, complete with the moaning and the inappropriate groping and grinding.
Something must've brushed against Dean's wound, because all at once, he pulled back and groaned.
Castiel began, holding onto Dean's shoulder for support, eyes studying the bandaging and then Dean's face.
Dean shook his head, mumbling not you, and panted to catch his breath.
Dean hissed, and surged forward, lips latching onto the bottom of Cas's neck, over his collar bone, sucking a crimson bruise onto the flesh, as Castiel moaned.
Dean simply let his lips wander around Cas's neck, reaching up to nip at his jaw and drop kisses down his neck.
Somehow, Cas managed to clasp his shoulders and push Dean away from his neck, bearing his eyes into the other's, as he tried to speak in his dazed state.
"I want to taste you... But not here-"
Dean hummed, nuzzling his nose against Cas's neck.
"Dean? Dean... No, stop-"
Dean pulled away, gazing up at Cas.
"I don't want to do this on a freakin' toilet. We have a bed."
Castiel said, with grave seriousness, and Dean tried not to snort.
"What are we doing here then?"
Dean prompted, and followed Castiel as they both stood up, barely any space for them together, and headed out of the bathroom, hands laced within each other's.
Dean halted and tugged at Cas's hand, causing him to lose momentum and crash his back against Dean's chest.
Dean murmured against Cas's nape, sliding a hand around the other's stomach.
Cas smiled, setting one hand atop Dean's hand on his stomach, the other one reaching up to caress Dean's cheek.
"I'm in love with you too."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Dean asked, and Castiel turned around in his arms, sliding his own hands around Dean's neck.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was scared you wouldn't love me back..."
They stared at each other, simply taking in each other's company, and how they could touch each other, kiss each other, love each other, without anyone or anything holding them back.
"We're dumbasses, aren't we?"
"Yes... But I wouldn't change a thing."
Dean's face softened, and for once, he could hold Castiel in his arms, and feel like that's where he belonged. Because he did.
Dean whispered, touching his forehead to Cas's, shutting his eyes and cherishing the pure unabashed pointlessness of standing in an empty room and hugging the person he'd been in love with for years now.
