Title: Sagittarius
Author: isasminion
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Genre: Schmoop/Fluff
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,494
Warnings: Slash ~ References to previous sex (not explicit) ~ One or two swearwords ~ Kissing ~ Fluff and most likely incredible OOC-ness
Spoilers: Minor for S5.16 (Dark Side Of The Moon)
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of it's characters. They belong to Eric Kripke, WB and The CW. No copyright infringement intended. This is fiction for enjoyment purposes only.
Summary: "I believe this is what they refer to as pillow-talk, Dean," Cas murmured sedately with another barely there curl of full lips. After a moment, blue eyes shifted slyly to the ceiling in a deliberately slow blink, and Dean's followed instinctively. "Holy Fuuu…"
Author Notes: I've been a little depressed over the Season 6 Dean and Castiel dynamic, so I decided to write some schmoop, which has possibly devolved into crack due to it's sheer fluffiness, I'm not sure. Anyway, I always wanted one of these projectors too, they sound really cool. I have one that is similar in concept but doesn't work that well – but at least it's pretty I suppose. But you can buy the ones that are astronomically correct (or whatever). For those interested, the picture and it's info I used as a reference for Castiel's vision is 'Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy' or 'SagDIG, ESO 594-4'. I suggest you Google it and have a look because it's stunning.
*steps down from geek platform*
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"You know what I always wanted when I was a kid?"
Castiel turned his head on the pillow they shared and looked at Dean. They'd been lying side by side on their backs, still in the exhausted positions they'd fallen into, and neither had spoken since. Their breathing had eventually evened out and left them in a comfortable, if tangled, sprawl; sated, their faces turned toward the cracked and water-stained ceiling, each lost in their own thoughts. Sweat had dried and heartbeats slowed, leaving just the heady, somewhat accusing, scent of sex lingering in the room.
"What was that?" he asked quietly.
"A star projector." Dean grinned widely, recalling time spent pining over his mum's mail order catalogs and comic book advertisements of toys and gadgets it seemed only the rich, or at least better-off, kids had.
A small crease formed between the angel's eyebrows, questioning, and Dean continued. "They were these, ah, things, and they, um…" he struggled. "…You'd turn them on at night and they'd project little lights all over the roof and walls of the room. They were made so that the lights looked like the constellations, so it was like you were lying outside, looking up at the night sky…"
"…while you were in fact safe and warm in your own bed," Castiel finished, understanding. Dean nodded, before grinning again, the sense of childlike wonder recaptured.
"I begged and begged dad, said it'd be educational, and everything, pulled out all the tricks...…" he trailed off at the childhood memories, and turned away from Cas to blink up at the ceiling again, intent on studying a stubborn looking brown stain that vaguely looked like a dinosaur. If dinosaurs had 3 wings, wore glasses and rode bicycles.
Yeah, it definitely looked like a dinosaur.
"So, huh, I dunno why I just told you that," he huffed a minute later as his cheeks turned a little pink. "That was so totally chick-flick territory."
Dean turned back to find Castiel still staring at him, a small curve tugging at the corners of his lips. Turned toward each other on the pillow their faces were only an inch apart. So close they could count the flecks in each others irises should they choose. It would normally be disarming - but given their whole relationship had started with something akin to a year-long staring competition (and didn't Dean have some very choice terms for that) - they found it completely comfortable.
Albeit, in smaller doses on Dean's part. But Cas was an Angel, he had an unfair advantage. If there were an Olympic sport for 'death-by-curiosity', Castiel would have Gold, Silver, Bronze, and the heads of the judges mounted on his wall.
And given what they'd been doing with and to each other just five minutes ago, a little close eye contact seemed pretty tame in comparison.
"I believe this is what they refer to as pillow-talk, Dean," Cas murmured sedately with another barely there curl of full lips. Dean knew he was teasing, but still couldn't help snorting in an attempt to reset the mood to something less intense.
"Stop making me feel like a girl, feather-face," he threw back quietly, but smiled nonetheless.
"Dean," Castiel pressed a finger to Dean's lips, before trailing it up over his cheekbone and along his right eyebrow, pushing the short dark hairs uncomfortably against the direction of growth, leaving it a fuzzy, spiked mess; then ghosted the slender tip softly down the bridge of his nose and over his lips once more to rest in the slight cleft of his chin. It was just one of those lazy things Castiel always did after sex, as they breathed and wound down. A quiet, unthinking, exploration of his lover's body. His hands had a mind of their own and they liked to wander, drift – freed of the usual self consciousness of most – feeling textures, hair, creases and lines, temperature, muscle. Testing the give, the tension, pressing or whirling around nipples and freckles and bumps.
Dean generally indulged him, enjoying the uninhibited attention, even if he'd never admit it. It was also one of the things that reminded him the 'man' he lay next to wasn't a man. The thought sometimes made him uncomfortable, but, more often than not, turned on beyond belief.
After a moment, blue eyes shifted slyly to the ceiling in a deliberately slow blink, and Dean's followed instinctively.
"Holy Fuuu…" he gasped and threw an arm out to clutch at Castiel beside him, fingertips digging sharply into the smaller man's waist. His other hand clutched at the reassuring solidity of the bed frame as he stared up into what appeared to be a vast, full color, high definition – and very real - sky.
The entire ceiling had been replaced, as though a giant hand had come along and plucked it from the building, leaving the four walls standing by themselves. Instead of the peeling beige paint, the roof was now a window without glass, and it was so real it felt like they were literally floating right in front of what their eyes were seeing.
"….uuuck." Dean let out a sharp exhale when it sunk in that he was still in the same bed, in the same hotel room, as he was ten seconds ago. His head spun a little, courtesy of furtive glances to the left and right to reassure himself the walls, and Earth, still existed.
Stars spread above them in random patterns and clusters across the field of view, bright bursts of varying size and intensity, a few close and bright, many more smaller, but just as brilliant behind them; then what seemed like billions of faint pinpricks that faded further and further away - their sheer distance and number leant them a milky, cloud like quality. Blue and red stars stood out from the rest, shining in contrast. Their were so many that the inky blackness of space was hardly visible, just a backdrop, like the canvas of a painting, or a hastily added afterthought.
It was a picture worthy of the Hubble Telescope, or the cover of a National Geographic magazine, yet Dean had a feeling he wasn't looking at any photo. "Cas? Is that… is this…?"
"Real? Yes," Castiel replied. "In a manner of speaking."
Dean grasped at Castiel's waist tighter. "How?"
"I've created a portal through which to see this, what we're seeing is real, but it isn't here…" he said quietly, turning to watch the awestruck expression on Dean's face.
Dean was close to speechless, a universe above him, bed beneath him and Cas at his side, solid and warm, breath ghosting over his jaw. It would probably be the most romantic thing he'd ever imagined, if it didn't feel like he'd be sucked into space if he let go of the bed. Trust his strange angel to go for the overkill…
Still, the panorama was awe-inspiring; Dean's heart beat wildly at the sheer reality of the vision before his eyes. It was real… he really was looking right at some distant portion of the universe.
"I…. wow. My god…."
"Yes," Cas whispered on the back of a small sigh. Dean glanced back and his lips drew into a tense line seeing the sadness in the angel's blue eyes. "It's hard, Dean," he continued quietly, "to look upon something so intricate and beautiful, a thing so seemingly chaotic but in fact ruled by laws and purposes that oppose each other in such a way as to actually be perfectly compatible… and not believe some higher power had a hand in it's creation, isn't it?"
The hunter simply couldn't find words to reply. There certainly aren't greeting cards or reassurances to utter for 'I'm sorry your father abandoned you and doesn't give a shit anymore, even though he's God and created everything that exists just to let it spin out of control while he lies sun-baking on a tropical beach somewhere'.
Or something.
Still, Castiel didn't need words, even if they could be found. They were just noises. He needed Dean. Even if they never touched again, never spoke again, being with him in any way was, for some reason, enough.
Dean was loath to admit it, but that situation pretty much went both ways. He felt the same, but the last thing he would put himself through was the pain and frustration of pointlessly analyzing it.
There was enough angst in their lives already.
"So, what exactly are we looking at?" he turned his attention back to the stars.
"This is a small galaxy within the constellation you call Sagittarius. Standing on earth, when one looks up at this constellation, you would be looking in roughly the direction of the very center of our galaxy, the Milky Way."
Dean smirked at how much Castiel enjoyed a lecture, his voice getting even deeper with each fact he felt compelled to pass on. He'd almost regret asking if that rough, low drag of words wasn't so pleasant to listen to – and grounding too, in the current circumstances.
While Dean watched the display above him - the billions of suns, stars, possibly millions of unseen planets spinning around them - Castiel watched Dean, never taking his eyes from his lover's face.
"So, if we, like…. zoomed in, or whatever," Dean frowned slightly. "…we'd be looking at the middle of the galaxy, our galaxy? Isn't it a massive black hole or something?" Dean asked, moving from uncomfortable to intrigued; Cas could probably show him anything he wanted – all the things he'd wondered about, dreamt about when he was a kid, daydreaming of a different life with a different family business. If only Dad was an astronaut…
Now it was the angel's turn to have trouble finding words. "It… well, yes, but not… ah," Dean glanced sideways to see him bite gently at the corner of his bottom lip. It was such a human expression; if it weren't for the fact the motel ceiling had been replaced with the angelic equivalent of the Hubble Telescope, he'd have trouble believing the man beside him was anything but another human being.
"…it's difficult to explain." Castiel looked apologetic. "I'd show you, but… I'm afraid it would be… more than a little… overwhelming. Your human brain and vision would have trouble comprehending it. I'm sorry, Dean," he said, looking for all the world like he'd failed at something important. "But I can assure you, it is one of the most awe inspiring and beautiful visions to behold."
"Don't worry Cas," he grinned and squeezed his hand, "this is plenty overwhelming for one night."
After a moment it hit him. "Wait, you've actually been there?" he asked, incredulous, his green eyes wide and eyebrows raised high enough to hurt. His life had always been unusual, sure, and sleeping with an angel of the Lord certainly upped the strange factor, but whoa….
Cas actually chuckled a little, his eyes creasing at the corners as he watched the disbelief and excitement flooding Dean's face. "Not as you would define it, exactly, but yes. Once."
"Dude…" Dean shook his head. He really didn't have anything to say to that, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally settling on a whispered "Wow." Quite possibly the biggest understatement in history, he thought as he turned to look up again.
They lost track of time as they simply lay there side by side and gazed over their small patch of space; watched as the occasional streaks of light, some bright, some faint, burnt past them (comets, Castiel confirmed), and the closer points of light seemed to pulse in a strange but somehow comforting rhythm. It was almost like seeing inside a living organism, watching it work and play, hearing and feeling its heartbeat.
Dean had never felt more relaxed, even lying on the lumpy, stained mattress that they were.
"You know, Cas," Dean smirked and turned his face, and Castiel did the same until their noses pressed together lightly. "You could have just bought me a star projector."
Castiel broke down into full-on laughter then, eyes shut tight as he laughed, all straight white teeth and gums; his nose scrunched up in a way that was possibly adorable, and he all but vibrated against Dean's ribs. It was such a foreign sight and sound that Dean nearly fell off the bed, triggering a brief rush of vertigo. But it was impossible not to laugh along, even if he did clutch the angel a little tighter in response – no one had to know.
"Show off!" Dean muttered and dragged Cas on top of him, pressing their bare chests together and wrapping his legs around slim hips, his heels pressed into the back of the angel's thighs.
To say it was a sight to behold would be yet another understatement – it seemed his life was full of them lately. Castiel hovered above him, his hooded eyes still shining with laughter, but rapidly dilating into lust again as Dean ground up against him and drew him closer. Those tempting lips were red and slightly swollen in arousal. Cas' dark hair was messed up like never before, half flat on one side, and standing up at the top – spiked up courtesy of desperate, clutching fingers.
And the backdrop – the galaxy of stars that his angel had given him, bright white, blue and red suns burning fiercely, fading away into a vast, unimaginable distance.
It was awesome - in every sense of the word.
Dean took a brief, indulgent moment to drink in the sight above him and commit it to memory, before closing his eyes and diving up to plant an open kiss against Castiel's collarbone, moving on to nip at his throat, and make his way up to that hot, wet, blasphemous mouth. He was going to kiss, lick, bite and nuzzle every bit of angel skin he could find.
And he wasn't planning on missing one… single… atom…
~ end