Work Text:
Written for the 2014 spn pairing bingo.
You can also read this on my LJ account.
***
Sam’s brow was furrowed in concentration, his brain twirling through the possibilities. He hated writers bock. It always stopped you just when you were about to reach your peak. The seat creaked under his weight as he tipped it back into a precarious position, straightening his stiff muscles with a groan. Glaring at the laptop screen didn’t seem to help any either.
He was never going to finish this. As much as he loved reading he just didn’t seem to have the same capability for writing. It might just be because he overthought everything, or maybe because he was overly weary of scribbling down a load of garbage. It was all just so hard! Not to mention the fact that he was dealing with some pretty personally important content. He was too lost in his frustration to notice the quiet flutter of wings behind him.
He did however, notice the surprising boom of Castiel’s “hello” which sent him tumbling backwards in shock, the back of his chair colliding with the floor.
“What’s this? Are you writing something?” Before Sam had chance to right himself and rush over to slam his laptop shut, Cas had taken full possession of it. Crap. He bashed the back of his head against the floor, closing his eyes in mortification and rubbing his nose with his hand. It was too late. As if things hadn’t already been awkward enough with the angel. “Look, Cas, I errmm.”
“’The sea-blue eyes gazed at Sam in longing. It was at that moment that Sam realised what he had been feeling for all those long lost months and swept Castiel into his arms and pulled him in for a deep kiss…’ I don’t understand Sam, this never happened.” The confusion on Cas’ face sent Sam’s heart plummeting into a nosedive.
“Yeah, it’s umm a piece of fiction.” A piercing stare from Castiel demanded more explanation, only adding to the growing pain in his stomach. “It’s fanfiction. Fans write it about the Supernatural books.”
“But why is it about you and me?”
No way could he hide his growing blush from an angel of the lord. Castiel seemed to be unable to meet Sam’s eyes, opting to leave his eyes glued to the computer screen instead. Looked like he had well and truly messed this up if Cas wouldn’t even look at him. His fears were only confirmed when the angel let out an angry exclamation. “Well this is absolutely appalling!”
Sam flinched under the criticism. He should have known Castiel would never have been interested. He was an angel after all, and Sam… well Sam was just a washed up hunter with a violent and a less-than-holy past. A washed up hunter who had nothing better to do than write fanfiction about himself and one of his best friends, for god’s sake.
And anyway, if Castiel was going to for a Winchester it would have to be Dean. Their ‘profound bond’ or whatever. Okay, so maybe Sam was a little bitter, but he couldn’t help it. He’d crashlanded in love at pretty much the first instance he’d ever laid eyes on Castiel. It was just embarrassing really, particularly when it caused him to act like a flustered teen. He was fairly certain the Castiel thought he was the biggest dork in the history of dorkdom after that time he’d stood staring into Cas’ eyes for a full two minutes before he’d realised he’d been asked a question. That’s what happened when Sam fell completely head over heels. But he’d known all along it was totally one-sided. Every day he’d had to sit and watch as Castiel responded to Dean’s calls, made half smiles at Dean’s jokes and shared wistful glances with Dean. Man, unrequited love sucked. Particularly when you were forced to do damage control when the object of your desires discovered certain secret fanfics.
As he dragged himself back onto his feet and pulled the chair back to the desk, Sam attempted to dig himself out of the hole he’d created. Although the angel seemed too engrossed in his writing to notice. “I’m sorry Cas, I don’t know what I was thinking. I know you don’t feel that way and…”
“Absolutely terrible. First off my eyes aren’t sea-blue, they’re more of a sky-blue. And I would never mutter. And this description of you is just completely blasé. I mean, come on, ‘brown hair’, you can do way better than this Sam.”
Before Sam knew what was happening, he’d been pushed into his seat, and Cas had drawn another up beside him. He didn’t even get chance to ask what was going on as Castiel dived straight into a running commentary of his unfinished piece. The little frown resting on the angel’s forehead, and the pensive press of his lips drove Sam crazy, and he found himself spending more time staring at his self-appointed editor than looking at the fic. Although he was soon distracted from his admiration by Cas’ demand for his attention. The next few hours were filled with similes and metaphors and all manner of clever phrases.
Under Castiel’s expert handling the fic became a piece of art, as the clichés and the awkward phrasings just fell away and the plot holes were ironed out. He even managed to encourage Sam to figure out the ending, which he had been completely stuck on. It turned out the angel could provide a pretty effective muse as well as an editor.
It soon got to the point where he couldn’t distinguish his parts of the fic from Castiel’s, they just flowed together that well, complimenting and improving each other. He even let Cas slip in a bit about Sam’s hair blowing about in the wind. Every time their fingers brushed Sam felt his heart flutter just a little and he experienced a thrill of achievement every time Castiel flashed him a particularly impressed smile at some of the suggestions he made.
Sam didn’t want to push his luck by asking why Cas was okay with all this, why he was even going as far as to encourage it. It felt like Sam was one question away from scaring the angel away for good. So he just kept shtum, just enjoying this brief stolen moment.
As they made the finishing touches to the piece, Sam felt a beam spreading across his face. All in, it had been a surreal but pretty amazing afternoon. Not only had his writing improved under Cas’ patient tutorage, but they’d spent a unprecedented amount of time together. It was just a bonus when the soft touch of Cas’ hand captured Sam’s chin or cheek to ascertain just exactly what hue his eyes were, or whether Sam’s cheek bones were more ‘exquisite’ or ‘purely masculine’.
“So what do we have to do to upload this?” Castiel’s insistent tone drew Sam’s attention from the sheer strokeability of Cas’ hair.
“Yeah if you want.”
He couldn’t help but smile at Cas’ ignorance as he picked out the criteria to post the piece, asking endless questions about titles and warnings and tags.
“What’s our relationship tag?”
Sam tried (and probably failed) to make it look like that was a topic he hadn’t spent hours musing on. “Well I quite like Samstiel, or Cam or Castiam, but I think the official one is Sastiel.”
“Sastiel.” The word had never sounded more appealing than it had when it was uttered in Cas’ gravelly tone. Castiel pressed the upload button with a proud click before turning to face Sam. “I like Sastiel.”
And then Castiel was in his space, moving closer with a predatory look on his face. Their lips brushed lightly together before pressing more firmly, sending fireworks and all other manner of clichés flashing through Sam’s mind. The angel only let it go on for a few moments before he pulled away with an approving smile, leaving a breathless and gobsmacked Sam staring at him.
“Wait, I have an idea for another piece.” Castiel leant forward, a mischievous gleam in his eye as his fingers danced across the keyboard.
***
Dean was settled back relaxing when the harsh knock came at his bedroom door, accompanied by the scratch of paper against wood. When he went to investigate he found a thick pile of paper sitting on the floor, covered in important looking type. Sam or Castiel must have thought this was vital research that Dean needed to read asap. Or then again, maybe not.
His eyes flicking down the first page, Dean couldn’t decide if he was more angry or disgusted. Just the title and summary were enough to make him squirm.
‘The Pieman Cometh
A steamy romance centred around the ill-fated love of Dean and Crowley. Jilted by his ex-lover, the King of Hell, Dean desperately tries to find a way to win back his long lost love in the face of adversity and jealous rivals.’
Stunned, that was the word. Dean was completely and utterly mind-numbingly stunned. Like he’d been shot in the face by a taser.
He was about 90% sure this little masterpiece was courtesy of his little brother, it had Sam stamped all over it. And yet the swirly script in the top right corner, which declared that it was ‘for Dean’ was most certainly not Sam’s handwriting.
A certain little moose and angel were about to get their comeuppance. Truth be told, Dean had been expecting the newly realised Shakespeares to be hiding in a corner giggling to one another. What he hadn’t been expecting was to step into the library and find the two of them with their tongues down each other’s throats. Wow. Gross. They definitely didn’t make bleach strong enough to scrub that image from his brain. Plus, Dean thought with a sigh, it meant that he was going to have to have the ‘I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it if you hurt my little brother’ talk with Cas, and that was never going to end well. It would either end with one of them at the wrong end of an angel blade or Castiel cocking his head to the side and Dean bashing his head against the wall. Still it couldn’t be helped, but it could at least wait until later.
The little shits made a point to ignore him, even when he let out a particularly pointed cough. “Urrrghh how many times Sammy? Not in shared spaces.”
Castiel pulled away slightly at the words, still resting in Sam’s lap with a thoughtless hand draped across his shoulder. Instead of acting all apologetic as Dean would have hoped, Sam just raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “That’s not what you said last week when I caught you and that blonde with the spatula in the kitchen!”
Dean had to admit that hated it when Sam was right, so instead he rolled his eyes and let it go. There were other more important issues to attend to. Like this assault on his honor. He brandished the paper accusingly at Sam and Castiel. “What the hell is this?”
“It appears to be a story. Some call it fanfiction.” Cas’ tone was completely even.
“I’d kind of gathered that. Why did you put it in my room?”
“It’s a present from myself and Sam.” It wasn’t often Dean got the impression Cas was secretly laughing at him, but when he did it instantly riled him up. At least he knew better than to try and argue. But seriously, him and Crowley? Even the thought of it had Dean’s skin crawling.
“Is it up on the internet.”
The look on Sam’s face could only be described as the ‘younger brother look’. It was a flammable mix of smugness and taunting. “Yeah. In fact so far it’s been a big hit. In the past hour forty three people have read it, and four people have left comments. Apparently they really like how vulnerable and desperate we made their ‘baby Dean’. Oh and one particularly lovely person has asked if she can do some art for it. She has big plans for the topless dance scene.”
Dean didn’t even have the words for any kind of response right now. There was absolutely no way he could formulate a verbal response more complicated than “bitch”. His brain was too busy trying to compute the idea of hundreds of people possibly reading this monstrosity. Particularly when Cas joined in with Sam’s unattractive cackling and snorting.
Ignoring the sniggers of the other two, Dean snatched up Sam’s laptop and stormed out of the room. Judging by the way they were hungrily staring at each other it didn’t look like they were going to need it any time soon anyway.
He settled onto his bed, a determined look in his eye as his fingers started to tap out a satisfying tune. ‘Once upon a time there were two dweebs called Sammy and Castiel…’