waiting for the eastern glow by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
janie_tangerine for <user site=
Jun. 12th, 2012 06:13 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
springflingmod.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
spn_springflingTitle: waiting for the eastern glow
Pairing: Castiel/Balthazar
Rating: PG13
Any warnings: spoilers for 6x17/S6 in general. Otherwise none that I can think of.
Written byjanie_tangerine for lies_unfurl!
“Why are we here? You know I don’t –”
“Cassie, don’t make me agree with your precious humans about you needing to lose that stick up your ass, would you? And after I spent that much time changing history and sinking ships for you, you owe me some of your precious time. Not that I’m doing this for myself.”
Castiel sighs, losing all his resolve to argue. He has no time to waste, not when the only back-up plan he had to avoid working with Crowley has utterly failed, but Balthazar is right. Whatever the point of this exercise is, he does owe him for the Titanic business.
“Very well,” he concedes. “So what are we doing here?” Here being the Redwood National Park in California, which is an odd choice for Balthazar. He usually is to be found in much more populated places.
Balthazar rolls his eyes and doesn’t even bother answering – just motions for him to follow. Castiel does, down a small path. Balthazar walks through a number of trees, his hands brushing over some trunks here and there, until he reaches a small clearing and drops down on the ground, sitting against one of the trees. It’s huge – there’s space for at least three people other than him.
“Oh, for – just sit down for once.”
Castiel does, still not getting what this is about. He drops down to the ground, next to Balthazar. His vessel is hurting all over – that usually never happens, but he’s tired, and he really shouldn’t be here, he should try to find another way –
“You really have no idea of what having fun means,” Balthazar huffs from his left. “You should at least pretend to like this – I brought us here because I thought it would be your kind of fun. I mean, I have all interest in keeping Earth the way it is, but I can think of more interesting ways to spend my time.”
“I should pretend to like what?”
“Huh. You haven’t even tried to look at the sky, have you?”
Castiel hasn’t, true. He humors Balthazar and does it, and suddenly he understand what Balthazar had meant. There’s an incredibly clear sky, and the stars littering it are so very bright – Castiel tries to forget that the design is an illusion as he looks up. It’s quite a beautiful sight, nothing to be said, almost calming – he can understand why some people would go out of their way to get out of cities and find a secluded place to… stargaze. He thinks it’s the right word.
“It’s… remarkable,” he says after a while. He hears Balthazar laughing at his side – sometimes Castiel envies him a bit for the way he seems to be able to indulge in human emotions while avoiding the not convenient ones. He can’t do that. He can’t even show them properly even if he feels them all, more than an angel should.
“I guess I wasn’t wrong. You always were the type who’d have rather watched tiny humans evolving instead of planning wars.”
“I still don’t understand why –”
“Cassie, you have to take some bloody time off. All your worry for this planet, your not-so-smart-human friends and for the sane angels in Heaven is touching and your effort is appreciated, but darling? You look terrible. And generals who don’t rest are generally known for taking epically stupid decisions. So, since you owe me, you’re not going to fly away until I say you should. And please, take off that stupid coat. Take off your shoes. Get comfortable for once.”
Castiel could produce a long list of all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but Balthazar isn’t entirely wrong – he can’t remember the last time he actually had a moment for himself, and it’s not as if when he came back to Heaven he had been hoping to start a civil war. He sighs and then takes off his coat and shoes, leaning back against the redwood. That’s a really lovely sight up there. If only any of that was true – if he were on another planet, anywhere in the galaxy, it’d be different.
“Some humans say that stars are souls. Can you believe that?” Balthazar snorts and hopefully doesn’t notice that Castiel’s fingers have curled into a fist at the mention of the word.
“Didn’t some say that they were angels, too?”
“Well, they don’t lack imagination.” Balthazar sounds amused at the notion. “Then again I suppose that if I left my vessel and went up there, and if all humans could see me, I wouldn’t look that different. It’s less laughable than stars being souls, of everything.”
“It wouldn’t be that bad, I suppose.” Castiel is talking more to himself than to Balthazar, but of course it doesn’t go unheard. When Balthazar’s hand goes to his arm, Castiel tears his eyes away from the sky and turns to his side.
“Meaning?”
“I suppose I wouldn’t need to… relax if I were an object in space that is only subjected to the laws of physics, would I?”
“True, but my existence would be a lot less boring. Did I ever thank you for that? Because if not for your little acts of rebellion, I’d have missed out on a lot of lovely things.”
“Like that den of iniquity in Paris that you seem to favor?”
“Cassie, not even Michael would have said den of iniquity, and in comparison your mouth is filthy. And yes, that’s one of those things, but I had rather had this in mind.”
A moment later a wine bottle materializes into thin air and Balthazar hands it over to him. Chianti – Italian, obviously. It’s quite old – Castiel doesn’t need to be familiar with human customs to know that it has to be very good wine, at least.
“Am I supposed to feel impressed?”
“Haven’t those two idiots ever taught you anything? Then again I’m talking about two not particularly interesting humans who have never set foot outside their rather dull country. Obviously they wouldn’t have taught you that getting drunk isn’t always the point of alcohol. Good alcohol, especially. And I suppose glasses would be ridiculous, so here, have it.”
Castiel feels ridiculous as he takes the cork off and takes a drink – they’re angels, they aren’t supposed to be drinking wine in national parks in the dead of the night, but Balthazar has a point. It’s good. Much better than what he remembers from that time when he found a liquor store during the Apocalypse, though at that point he hadn’t been paying attention to how anything he drank tasted.
“It’s – it’s good,” he concedes. He takes another small drink before handing the bottle over – from what he’s seen, it’s the etiquette in this kind of situation.
“Well, they did teach you something.” Balthazar takes a drink as well, longer than he has, and Castiel is about to refuse when he hands the bottle back. But – it’s not bad at all, and it’s not as if it will change anything. It took an entire store to get him drunk, the one time it happened; a few sips of wine won’t have much effect.
“Thank you,” he says as his second’s drink taste is lingering in his throat and on his tongue. “I mean, this is – quite nice. Maybe I did need it.”
When he looks up, Balthazar looks more smug than usual, but there’s something closer to worry in his eyes, and Castiel feels horrible for having lied to him as well. But he can’t exactly tell anyone now, can he?
“Cassie, you can take that maybe out of that sentence.”
“Fine. I needed it.”
“Good, you’re learning.”
He doesn’t expect it when, a moment later, Balthazar moves so close that there’s merely an inch between them.
He somewhat expects it when a moment later Balthazar kisses the corner of his cheek, and he doesn’t think when he turns his face so that their lips are touching fully. His hand that isn’t holding the bottle reaches up, grabbing a fistful of Balthazar’s shirt – not that it was buttoned to begin with – and he’s almost disappointed that it ends a moment later. Balthazar is staring at him now, focused, as if he’s trying to read his mind – laughable, if an angel could read another angel’s mind then the Apocalypse wouldn’t have started in the first place.
“You will always surprise me, won’t you?” Balthazar sighs, and then his lips are on Castiel’s again, and it’s a real kiss. It’s strangely nice, though – the one time he had kissed that demon, and he regrets that whenever he thinks about it, it had been an experiment, something to… blow off steam, as Dean might have put it, but there was nothing more behind it.
This is different – not as fast, not as empty, and he can’t help a soft moan when one of Balthazar’s hands cups the back of his head. There’s one part of his mind aware that this isn’t – they shouldn’t be doing this, but then again neither of them has followed the rules for a long while. And he likes how it feels, he likes the way Balthazar’s tongue slowly traces his, he likes how warm and pleasant it feels. He doesn’t even mind that he can taste wine all over Balthazar’s mouth, and the reverse is probably true. They should mind, angels shouldn’t taste of anything and most surely not of human food or drink. Then again, they’re both fighting a war that seems mostly lost for that, as well. And what they’re doing… is a very human thing, isn’t it?
Sometimes Castiel wishes he didn’t feel that much.
When it’s over, Balthazar doesn’t lean back; he touches his forehead to Castiel’s, his hands not moving either.
“Now,” he whispers, and Castiel doesn’t know how he made that word sound downright filthy, but he did. “I know you’re itching to spread your wings, but I think we should stay there until we finish at least that wine. Would be downright rude to leave it there, wouldn’t it?”
“That sounds better than what I had planned.”
“Swell. And if you forgot already, it’s your turn.”
Castiel leans back against the redwood again and takes another drink, and this time he doesn’t go fast or limit himself to a small sip. He knows this won’t happen again soon – he should enjoy it while it lasts. He doesn’t expect it when Balthazar wraps an arm around his shoulders and he doesn’t do anything to move away from it. He knows he should be worrying about more important matters, he knows he should be checking whether Dean and Sam are safe, but he isn’t sure he wants to listen to reason right now. To be entirely truthful, if another bottle of wine appeared into thin air after the one they’re sharing is over, he thinks he wouldn’t say no to spend a little more time here.
Maybe that’s very human, as much as not wanting to listen to reason, but it doesn’t sound as bad or degrading as it should. For now he just lets himself lean back against Balthazar’s arm and he looks up at that lovely, bright sky again. He can worry about the rest later.
End.
Pairing: Castiel/Balthazar
Rating: PG13
Any warnings: spoilers for 6x17/S6 in general. Otherwise none that I can think of.
Written by
janie_tangerine for lies_unfurl!“Why are we here? You know I don’t –”
“Cassie, don’t make me agree with your precious humans about you needing to lose that stick up your ass, would you? And after I spent that much time changing history and sinking ships for you, you owe me some of your precious time. Not that I’m doing this for myself.”
Castiel sighs, losing all his resolve to argue. He has no time to waste, not when the only back-up plan he had to avoid working with Crowley has utterly failed, but Balthazar is right. Whatever the point of this exercise is, he does owe him for the Titanic business.
“Very well,” he concedes. “So what are we doing here?” Here being the Redwood National Park in California, which is an odd choice for Balthazar. He usually is to be found in much more populated places.
Balthazar rolls his eyes and doesn’t even bother answering – just motions for him to follow. Castiel does, down a small path. Balthazar walks through a number of trees, his hands brushing over some trunks here and there, until he reaches a small clearing and drops down on the ground, sitting against one of the trees. It’s huge – there’s space for at least three people other than him.
“Oh, for – just sit down for once.”
Castiel does, still not getting what this is about. He drops down to the ground, next to Balthazar. His vessel is hurting all over – that usually never happens, but he’s tired, and he really shouldn’t be here, he should try to find another way –
“You really have no idea of what having fun means,” Balthazar huffs from his left. “You should at least pretend to like this – I brought us here because I thought it would be your kind of fun. I mean, I have all interest in keeping Earth the way it is, but I can think of more interesting ways to spend my time.”
“I should pretend to like what?”
“Huh. You haven’t even tried to look at the sky, have you?”
Castiel hasn’t, true. He humors Balthazar and does it, and suddenly he understand what Balthazar had meant. There’s an incredibly clear sky, and the stars littering it are so very bright – Castiel tries to forget that the design is an illusion as he looks up. It’s quite a beautiful sight, nothing to be said, almost calming – he can understand why some people would go out of their way to get out of cities and find a secluded place to… stargaze. He thinks it’s the right word.
“It’s… remarkable,” he says after a while. He hears Balthazar laughing at his side – sometimes Castiel envies him a bit for the way he seems to be able to indulge in human emotions while avoiding the not convenient ones. He can’t do that. He can’t even show them properly even if he feels them all, more than an angel should.
“I guess I wasn’t wrong. You always were the type who’d have rather watched tiny humans evolving instead of planning wars.”
“I still don’t understand why –”
“Cassie, you have to take some bloody time off. All your worry for this planet, your not-so-smart-human friends and for the sane angels in Heaven is touching and your effort is appreciated, but darling? You look terrible. And generals who don’t rest are generally known for taking epically stupid decisions. So, since you owe me, you’re not going to fly away until I say you should. And please, take off that stupid coat. Take off your shoes. Get comfortable for once.”
Castiel could produce a long list of all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but Balthazar isn’t entirely wrong – he can’t remember the last time he actually had a moment for himself, and it’s not as if when he came back to Heaven he had been hoping to start a civil war. He sighs and then takes off his coat and shoes, leaning back against the redwood. That’s a really lovely sight up there. If only any of that was true – if he were on another planet, anywhere in the galaxy, it’d be different.
“Some humans say that stars are souls. Can you believe that?” Balthazar snorts and hopefully doesn’t notice that Castiel’s fingers have curled into a fist at the mention of the word.
“Didn’t some say that they were angels, too?”
“Well, they don’t lack imagination.” Balthazar sounds amused at the notion. “Then again I suppose that if I left my vessel and went up there, and if all humans could see me, I wouldn’t look that different. It’s less laughable than stars being souls, of everything.”
“It wouldn’t be that bad, I suppose.” Castiel is talking more to himself than to Balthazar, but of course it doesn’t go unheard. When Balthazar’s hand goes to his arm, Castiel tears his eyes away from the sky and turns to his side.
“Meaning?”
“I suppose I wouldn’t need to… relax if I were an object in space that is only subjected to the laws of physics, would I?”
“True, but my existence would be a lot less boring. Did I ever thank you for that? Because if not for your little acts of rebellion, I’d have missed out on a lot of lovely things.”
“Like that den of iniquity in Paris that you seem to favor?”
“Cassie, not even Michael would have said den of iniquity, and in comparison your mouth is filthy. And yes, that’s one of those things, but I had rather had this in mind.”
A moment later a wine bottle materializes into thin air and Balthazar hands it over to him. Chianti – Italian, obviously. It’s quite old – Castiel doesn’t need to be familiar with human customs to know that it has to be very good wine, at least.
“Am I supposed to feel impressed?”
“Haven’t those two idiots ever taught you anything? Then again I’m talking about two not particularly interesting humans who have never set foot outside their rather dull country. Obviously they wouldn’t have taught you that getting drunk isn’t always the point of alcohol. Good alcohol, especially. And I suppose glasses would be ridiculous, so here, have it.”
Castiel feels ridiculous as he takes the cork off and takes a drink – they’re angels, they aren’t supposed to be drinking wine in national parks in the dead of the night, but Balthazar has a point. It’s good. Much better than what he remembers from that time when he found a liquor store during the Apocalypse, though at that point he hadn’t been paying attention to how anything he drank tasted.
“It’s – it’s good,” he concedes. He takes another small drink before handing the bottle over – from what he’s seen, it’s the etiquette in this kind of situation.
“Well, they did teach you something.” Balthazar takes a drink as well, longer than he has, and Castiel is about to refuse when he hands the bottle back. But – it’s not bad at all, and it’s not as if it will change anything. It took an entire store to get him drunk, the one time it happened; a few sips of wine won’t have much effect.
“Thank you,” he says as his second’s drink taste is lingering in his throat and on his tongue. “I mean, this is – quite nice. Maybe I did need it.”
When he looks up, Balthazar looks more smug than usual, but there’s something closer to worry in his eyes, and Castiel feels horrible for having lied to him as well. But he can’t exactly tell anyone now, can he?
“Cassie, you can take that maybe out of that sentence.”
“Fine. I needed it.”
“Good, you’re learning.”
He doesn’t expect it when, a moment later, Balthazar moves so close that there’s merely an inch between them.
He somewhat expects it when a moment later Balthazar kisses the corner of his cheek, and he doesn’t think when he turns his face so that their lips are touching fully. His hand that isn’t holding the bottle reaches up, grabbing a fistful of Balthazar’s shirt – not that it was buttoned to begin with – and he’s almost disappointed that it ends a moment later. Balthazar is staring at him now, focused, as if he’s trying to read his mind – laughable, if an angel could read another angel’s mind then the Apocalypse wouldn’t have started in the first place.
“You will always surprise me, won’t you?” Balthazar sighs, and then his lips are on Castiel’s again, and it’s a real kiss. It’s strangely nice, though – the one time he had kissed that demon, and he regrets that whenever he thinks about it, it had been an experiment, something to… blow off steam, as Dean might have put it, but there was nothing more behind it.
This is different – not as fast, not as empty, and he can’t help a soft moan when one of Balthazar’s hands cups the back of his head. There’s one part of his mind aware that this isn’t – they shouldn’t be doing this, but then again neither of them has followed the rules for a long while. And he likes how it feels, he likes the way Balthazar’s tongue slowly traces his, he likes how warm and pleasant it feels. He doesn’t even mind that he can taste wine all over Balthazar’s mouth, and the reverse is probably true. They should mind, angels shouldn’t taste of anything and most surely not of human food or drink. Then again, they’re both fighting a war that seems mostly lost for that, as well. And what they’re doing… is a very human thing, isn’t it?
Sometimes Castiel wishes he didn’t feel that much.
When it’s over, Balthazar doesn’t lean back; he touches his forehead to Castiel’s, his hands not moving either.
“Now,” he whispers, and Castiel doesn’t know how he made that word sound downright filthy, but he did. “I know you’re itching to spread your wings, but I think we should stay there until we finish at least that wine. Would be downright rude to leave it there, wouldn’t it?”
“That sounds better than what I had planned.”
“Swell. And if you forgot already, it’s your turn.”
Castiel leans back against the redwood again and takes another drink, and this time he doesn’t go fast or limit himself to a small sip. He knows this won’t happen again soon – he should enjoy it while it lasts. He doesn’t expect it when Balthazar wraps an arm around his shoulders and he doesn’t do anything to move away from it. He knows he should be worrying about more important matters, he knows he should be checking whether Dean and Sam are safe, but he isn’t sure he wants to listen to reason right now. To be entirely truthful, if another bottle of wine appeared into thin air after the one they’re sharing is over, he thinks he wouldn’t say no to spend a little more time here.
Maybe that’s very human, as much as not wanting to listen to reason, but it doesn’t sound as bad or degrading as it should. For now he just lets himself lean back against Balthazar’s arm and he looks up at that lovely, bright sky again. He can worry about the rest later.
End.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 12:46 am (UTC)