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“Demon’s blood, wolf’s bane, a whale’s grinded bone dust and a sample of Edinburgh’s sewer water. I have collected everything needed for the spell, Sam,” Jack says proudly, spreading out the ingredients on the table in the bunker. “Well, everything except…”
“What?” Dean asks, lightly touching the bone dust with his finger tips. Hm. Interesting texture.
“That mysterious Latin thing,” Sam says. “It doesn’t appear to be a plant or an animal. It’s not mentioned in any books in our library, I’ve looked. Basium angeli.”
“Basium angeli?” Cas, who’d been sitting quietly in the corner, seems to wake from deep thought. “Really?”
Sam turns around, brows raised. “You know what it is?”
“It’s an angel’s kiss,” Cas says, his deep voice sounding troubled. His eyes flicker to Sam and then straight back to his hands.
“Now where the hell are we gonna find an angel’s kiss?” Dean wonders aloud, frowning.
“Not to mention the elephant in the room, but…”, his brother says, hands planted on his hips and - how dare he - eyes going toward Cas.
“I’m an angel, not an elephant, Sam,” Cas says. Then, averting his eyes. ”No.”
“You think it’s a…. you don’t think it’s a euphemism, right Cas?” Dean asks.
“For what?” Cas asks, brows furrowing.
Dean rolls his eyes. Why can’t the angel ever look him in the eye? Or give a straight answer?
Sam meanwhile is bending over the old manuscript again, sifting through the details of the spell.
“It sure says right here, during the last verse and at the height of the fire, the spell is sealed by an angel’s kiss.”
Dean swallows hard. Though really, there is no reason why this should be a big deal.
“Well, Sam, as the designated witch…”
“I’ll be busy chanting, Dean.”
Dean looks at Jack.
“Ew, Dean! Cas is pretty much my dad.”
Suddenly, it feels like a cold wind has engulfed Dean, leaving only his ears burning. No. This can’t be.
He’s not gay, after all.
This is ridiculous.
Dean glances at Cas, who is staring into the blank space in front of him.
“D… do we really need this?” Dean asks.
“We have to resurrect Crowley, we need his help to defeat Chuck,” Sam says.
Oh god.
“And there’s…. no other way?”
“He’s dead and in an alternate reality, Dean,” Sam reminds him. “It’s a miracle we even found this spell.”
Cas clears his throat, keeping his gaze firmly locked on the floor. “Dean… For what it’s worth…. I would give anything not to have you do this.”
With a jolt Dean is reminded of the day Cas took him to torture Alastair. When Cas told him the angels had started to question his loyalty. Because he was starting to get… feelings. A doorway to doubt.
Dean clenches his fist.
He does not want Cas to feel like it is a burden on him just to kiss him. Cas is not…. repulsive. He would never want his…. friend…. to feel that way.
It is, after all, not a threat to a strong heterosexual man’s sexuality to kiss a mate, right?
Dean walks up to Cas, and gets on his knees in front of him, forcing their eyes to meet. Yep. Very heterosexual.
“Cas, it’s not that bad, it’s not like torture or anything.” He half smiles, trying to reassure the angel.
“I am the missing ingredient, I guess,” Cas says, seemingly resigned. He looks up.
Those blue eyes remind Dean of the way oceans reflect heaven. Who knows what secrets lie there? Who knows what sexuality and gender mean to such ancient beings? Maybe Cas has kissed men before.
Not Dean. No.
But how different can it be?
“If it must be done, I guess I’ll make this sacrifice. It can’t be worse than the mark of Cain,” Dean jokes, but a small flash of sadness in Cas’ eyes quickly shuts him up.
Dean stands up and stretches.
“Right, let’s get started.”
—-
A steady glow rises from the bowl by the fifth verse. It’s placed in the middle of an ancient demonic symbol painted on the floor of the barn they’ve chosen to perform this spell in. The bunker, after all, is supposed to be safe from the likes of Crowley.
Sam is battling a strong wind coming from the core of the bowl, where now flames have started dancing around each other. He is chanting in a lost language, while Jack is scarcely holding the barn doors closed to not allow other dark forces in, drawn by the devilish chant like rats to the sound of a flute.
It is almost the last verse.
Dean looks at Cas. They’re standing in front of Sam not even feeling a hint of a breeze. Like they’re in the eye of a storm.
Cas looks incredibly pained.
Dean almost feels offended. Dude, it’s not that bad to have to kiss him, right?
Dean’s pretty sure he’s a decent kisser, he’s surely never had any complaints. And he’s brushed his teeth three times while the others were packing up the Impala.
But Cas looks like he’s going off to his death.
Oh no. Cas is not homophobic, right?
Dean’s no expert on the Bible, but sure, homosexuality is not exactly advertised there.
He frowns at Cas.
No, Cas has never expressed any ill feelings toward the queer community. And didn’t he kill a bigoted pastor once?
The fire in the bowl is burning higher now, turning a blue color.
Dean licks his lips.
Right. Once more unto the breach.
He takes a step forward, and Cas seems to almost take one back. What in the?
The angel looks pale as a ghost!
Dean smiles at him reassuringly. Hell, it’s not as if he wants to do this. But to save the entire world? Just a small thing.
He reaches for Cas’ hand, which seems to confuse him briefly, before Cas hooks his fingers in his. Gently, Dean draws him closer. Cas seems unable to look at him.
Dude. Why would he be hesitant? Dean is very well practised in this stuff. He has kissed plenty of women, though usually not in front of a witch but by their front door. But it’s easy. A first kiss is just leaning in about 90 percent of the distance and then allowing the other person to cross the extra 10 percent.
Oh no, he shouldn't think of this as a first kiss, just, you know, only. Only kiss. Definitely.
“Now! Do it now!” Jack screams by the doors, barely holding back invisible forces.
Dean unhooks himself from Cas’ fingers and lifts his hand to Cas’ chin to gently push it up. Cas finally looks him in the eye. Dean is startled. There is a… vulnerability there. A fear.
Dean leans closer, leaving still a small space between their lips. He won’t force Cas to do this. He won’t hurt him, not for the world.
He closes his eyes, feeling Cas’ presence so close, and rubs his thumb along Cas’ jaw toward his ear. He wraps his fingers around Cas’ neck and waits.
In one breath, Cas crosses the space.
And even though it was planned and expected, it takes Dean by surprise. The warmth. It’s… overwhelming. Almost unnaturally so.
Cas’ lips fall onto his, and there is something that awakens in him.
A spell is cast. Something unnamed, released.
Dean brings his other hand up to Cas’ face. Cas is still unmoving, completely frozen against Dean, in an incredibly endearing way.
Not that Dean is gay or anything. No no. This is just for demonic summoning purposes. Strictly business.
Dean moves his lips against Cas’ closed mouth, as if to tell him: this is ok, don’t worry.
He cradles Cas’ face in both his hands now, and feels the angel stir. Cas slowly lifts his arms to hold onto Dean’s elbows, almost shyly. As if asking for permission.
Hell, Dean will grant that permission. He moves his right hand to the back of Cas’ head, combing his fingers through his hair reassuringly.
“Cas.” Dean breathes.
A small noise escapes Cas’ throat. What - what does this noise mean? Dean is unsure, of everything, except the fact he is clinging to it with all his might and wants more. More of this.
Cas slightly opens his mouth, now holding onto Dean’s elbows more strongly. He presses into Dean as if he wants to forever leave a mark.
He already has.
Dean very carefully, tentatively licks his tongue across Cas’ bottom lip. Holy shit. Cas opens like a flower. Dean pushes past and it is like tasting honey for the first time. Like discovering color and flavor and all life has to offer, like drinking water directly from the mountain’s source.
Another sound escapes Cas’ throat as their tongues touch.
It’s a rush Dean never wants to stop chasing. He moves his hands closer, now holding Cas’ cheeks in his hands as they deepen their kiss, get lost in the -
“What the actual fuck?” Crowley’s voice suddenly booms.
Startled, Dean breaks loose from the kiss. He finally notices the wind and chanting have stopped, there’s just Sam and Jack and Crowley and his hands cannot stop holding Cas’ head for some reason and-
“Angel’s kiss”, Sam explains, behind them. “To summon you.”
Crowley laughs loudly. “You only needed a peck on the forehead, mate.”