The Fall // Destiel

ix. No Clever Name for This Chapter Sue Me

I'm really sad that this is one of my lesser known fics because I'm actually quite proud of it.. :/
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He should probably feel ashamed at the fact that he's laying asscheek naked on the floor of a gas station with another man, while his father is probably having an aneurysm above them, but Castiel can't bring himself to care.

The air around them is almost crackling with a muted electricity, jumping between the two whenever Cas runs his fingers across the constellation of freckles on Dean's broad shoulders. It's thankfully unlike any stars he's ever seen, so he labels these the Dean constellation and promises that one day he'll carve it into the real night sky so that they're brighter than the North Star. Which is probably against his father's rules, he notes, but then again, so is this. Although technically he can't carve the stars into space, he can travel back to the time when there was no concept of - well - time itself, and urge the star dust in the right direction. It's a lot of work, but some people are worth it, Cas thinks, eyes watching Dean's chest rise and fall with his gentle breaths.

He doesn't know if Dean's asleep, but he certainly isn't when the door to the gas station opens with a jingle. Both angel and man makes frantic eye contact, before Cas throws on the closest thing to to him - which happens to be Dean's flannel - and leaps up.

"Hi! Hello! Welcome - uh, I was just sorting out the shelves." He blurts, making eye contact with one of his regular customers - Garth. "Oh hi Garth, why're you here so late?"

Garth turns, a lazy smirk on his face. He doesn't reply, only struts his way up to the cash with a box of condoms in his hand. His soul's aura is shining through the usual deep green to reveal tones of gold that almost, almost rival Dean's in brightness.

Cas snorts and nods, ringing the item in. "Anything else?"

"I should probably get some gum, eh?" Garth replies, "Had a great dinner and don't want the lady to know that."

Cas nods again, sparing a glance down at Dean, whose wide green eyes are eyeing the angel's half unbuttoned flannel. Frantically, he buttons up the top few while Garth is selecting gum.

"Bubble mint?" Garth comments, "Hey Steve - what's that taste like?"

Cas shrugs, "Bubble gum and mint?"

"Thanks." Garth dryly remarks, before he eyes come to rest on a patch of Cas' bare hips. "Are you wearing pants?"

"I - of course I am." The angel sharply replies, accidentally kneeing Dean in the face when he sharply shifts his weight to hide his nudity. And of course, the Winchester just has to let out an 'ouch!' that causes a very concerned Garth to lean over the counter, face paling when he catches sight of almost naked Dean - who had the common sense to throw on pants should he be caught and thank Castiel's father he did.

"Dean?" he practically chirps, his mouth twisted into a confused grimace.

"Garth?" Dean mimics, right as Cas blurts: "What?"

"I didn't know you - uh, well, I mean it's totally fine man, I don't care," Garth stammers upon his words, his face flushing. "What a coincidence, eh?"

Dean just nervously chuckles, pulling himself to his feet. "Fancy that." He remarks, before turning to Cas. "Oh, as you know that's Garth, and I've fixed up his car a few times for him; and he knows my uncle so we're on familiar terms."

The angel nods, pouting his lip in a way that totally means 'fancy how things work out' and not 'he's totally going to tell everyone what he saw but I really don't care because at this point screw the system'. Or maybe both. He doesn't know yet.

Without another word, he rings up the items, praying that Garth doesn't push any more questions on them. And luckily enough, he doesn't, he just waves and winks as he's out the door with a jingle.

"Fancy that." Dean huffs, before checking his watch. "It's actually pretty late though - before Sam thinks I've died or something I should scram."

Cas sighs and silently nods once again, absolutely hating the unfamiliar feeling in his chest. Longing? He's not so sure but it seems to only be cured when the older Winchester's around.

"I'll see you tomorrow though, right?" he asks as he throws on his pants and remaining flannel layers, still leaving Cas with one of them.

"Certainly, Dean." He agrees, letting a lazy smile slide on to his face. Unknown to the Winchester, he bears the softest white glow - the literal touch of an angel - and nothing could please the angel more.

"Your house?" Dean grabs his keys and makes his way over to the door, before turning around and stealing a quick kiss from Cas before he can say a word. "I'll be there at seven."

"See you around." He shouts the the man's retreating back, sighing in contentment.

The cash register still needs to be emptied along with the slush machine, so he tells himself that Dean'll make it home just fine without him watching over. Besides, hopefully Gabriel stayed true to his promise and has an extra eye out.

***

He watches as the man exits the gas station, his obnoxiously bright aura at least doubled in annoyingness tonight. The shadows hide him perfectly, so the man - Dean, as he's heard - takes no notice of him.

It's a shame, really. Such a brilliant, righteous soul. He hates that he'll have to be the one to snuff it out, since none of the other angels would dare mess with Castiel and his human.

But he knows that although strong, Castiel has his soft spots and if he plays his cards correctly, one hit directly to one of them would bring the angel down.

And said soft spot just happens to have green eyes and bow legs.

He follows the man back to a motel, and although he wants to kill him with Castiel watching he knows this'll be quicker and safer for him; and Castiel can not know that it was another angel who did this, or else he'd never join the ranks of Heaven again.

After all, that's his ultimate goal: bring back Heaven's most powerful warrior, as commanded by his father Himself.

The man exits the car, kicking a few stones away on the cracked asphalt and humming along to some ghastly music.

Now's his chance.

He slowly and silently moved forewords, still unseen by the man. His feet barely touch the ground as he moves, although he lets out the smallest gasp at the seemingly sudden figure behind the man - who still hasn't noticed anything.

Golden hair and six wings to match, none other than the archangel Gabriel is slowly shaking his head at him.

"Zachariah, no." He mouthes, spreading the smallest set of his wings out.

Dean doesn't look up - or move. Zachariah's mouth falls open at the realization that Gabriel has somehow frozen time around them, and that he has nowhere near the training or power to fight the last remaining archangel.

He hisses under his breath, before letting his wings carry him to Heaven. Certainly he'll need a better plan, and no archangel the next time he makes a move.