moonlettuce | Fic: AngelTV, SPN, Dean/Castiel

Title: AngelTV
Author: Claire
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Crack
Summary: It all started, Castiel thinks, when Michael discovered cable...
Notes: From this comment on

deancastiel: Castiel's brother's listening in when him and Dean are having sex.

The thing about being in the middle of an Apocalypse is that there's always something going on. Smite this demon, cleanse this town, guard this gateway to Hell; the orders come and they come quickly. So when it's over, when it's all over and Lucifer is chained and Hell is barred and the fight is finally won, the angels find themselves with nothing to do. And that, Castiel thinks, is where the problem started.

There had been so many of the Host stationed on Earth, so many of them that had taken human vessels in order to walk among their Father's children. And with the vessels had come so many other things; had come thoughts and memory and emotion and discovery.

And these discoveries had swept through Heaven, carried by the ones who found them. Hasmed discovered art, and the soft shimmer of light on the paintbrush in his hand as the colours of Heaven swirl across his palette. Raphael discovered music, and gave the belying subtlety of the message held in the words As long as there'll be music, we'll be comin' back again... to the cherubim. Jophiel discovered chocolate, and the decadent joy of 70% cocoa from Venezuela melting over her tongue.

And Michael? Well, the highest of Archangels did not discover art (but he's since found that he's quite fond of Jackson Pollock) and he did not discover music (and he's rather pleased about that after hearing Celine Dion for the first time) and he did not discover chocolate (although he's glad that Jophiel did). Michael did not discover any of these things. Instead, he discovered something better, something different. In a motel room outside of Pittsburgh, while a war raged and angels fell and a vessel needed some time to recover, Michael discovered Cable. And that, Castiel knows, is why the problem gets worse.

It gets worse because, when the war is over and the angels look around and find they have nothing to do, it is Michael who comes up with the suggestion.

It is Lepha, though, who comes up with the 58-inch screen.

The original suggestion is the all-day Smallville marathon on The CW, Michael extolling the virtues of the story of friends, who should have been closer than brothers but were torn apart by secrets. It's a story of love, Michael tells them. A story of love and betrayal and heat vision.

Gabriel doesn't have the heart to tell him that he'd had them at and the one who plays Lex is really hot...

So the plan is laid and the Host gather, angel resting against angel in the way only those truly at ease with each other can.

The problem with Heaven, as it turns out, is that the reception is really, really crappy and after the fifth suggestion from Metatron to waggle the aerial, Michael is all but ready to murder his brother in his sleep.

"It looks like Clark and Lex will have to wait," Michael declares, morosely poking the TV with his finger.

"Hold on," Lepha says, unwilling to leave now, after going through the hassle of making popcorn for everyone. "There's got to be something we can do."

"I'm all for suggestions," Michael replies. "So long as it doesn't involve waggling the aerial," he adds, glaring at Metatron.

There's silence for long moments, undercut by soft muttering rippling through the audience, until finally, finally, Barachiel raises his hand.

"I have an idea--"

~

The first thing Castiel knows about it is when he's fucking Dean in Bobby Singer's spare room.

The Apocalypse may have been averted, but there were still demons who had escaped the final cleanse that had seen Lucifer cast back into Hell, still other evil that preyed on the innocent.

And when they'd gotten back to Bobby's after purging the nest of vampires they'd been tracking for days, the only thing Castiel had wanted was to get into Dean's ass.

The door's barely shut behind them before they're against the wall, Castiel's lips pressing insistently against Dean's, hands pulling at clothes.

"C'mon, Cas--" The words are a needy plea coming from low in Dean's throat as teeth nip at Dean's collarbone.

Dean's fingers fumble at his jeans, yanking them open and pushing them down to mid-thigh as Castiel turns Dean to face the wall with one hand and opens his trousers with the other.

Fingers press inside Dean, sudden and harsh and slick, twisting once before they're gone. And it's not enough, but Castiel pushes into Dean anyway, sheathing himself in heat in one thrust and sealing his mouth over Dean's to swallow the gasp his entry causes.

It's fast and it's brutal, and Dean tastes of blood and ash as Castiel licks a stripe along the back of Dean's neck before biting down. And he's close, so close, as his hand moves to Dean's cock, hard and hot and aching under his touch and--

Now this is what I'm talking about--

Absolutely. None of this watching the sunrise over the pyramids lark. Thanks for nothing, Kabshiel--

Move out of the way, I can't see-- oh my, I never knew Castiel was that flexible--

Wow. Now that's what I call perky--

He should try rolling his hips more--

What the--

Castiel pauses mid-thrust, ignoring the "Cas?" coming from Dean.

I think he heard us--

Bugger--

"I have to go--" He murmurs the words into Dean's shoulder as he pulls out, reaching down to force still-swollen flesh into his trousers.

"What?!" And Dean is moving before the words have died in the air, turning to face him. "You are fucking kidding me?" he exclaims, waving a hand towards his own still-hard cock bobbing in the air. "Now? You have to leave right. This. Fucking. Minute?" Each word punctuated by a finger poking into Castiel's chest.

"I--" Castiel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. If he wasn't an angel, and therefore immune to such things, he'd swear he could feel a migraine coming on. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You'd better be," Dean warns, the mutter of "fucking angels--" still in Castiel's ear as the room gives way around him.

If there's one thing Castiel doesn't expect to see as the clarity of Home resolves around him, it's a group of angels all eagerly watching the large TV in front of them showing Dean, his Dean, angrily pace around the room Castiel had just been in, before all but throwing himself on the bed and wrapping his hand around his cock.

And if the picture is crystal clear, then the surround sound is amazing, as Dean's groan of Oh god, Cas-- reverberates around Heaven. And Castiel recognises the look on Dean's face, has seen it often enough. Eyes shut and hips arching off the bed as his thumb brushes across the head of his cock and--

"Right," Castiel snaps, a wave of his hand cutting the picture off as he steps forward, "that's quite enough of that!"

"Aw--" "But--" "Castiel!"

The voices overlap, but Castiel ignores them all as he moves in front of the screen. "I'm going to assume that there's a good reason for this," he says, pointedly.

The other angels all look at each other.

"Er, we thought a demon might attack you," Moriel says carefully.

"We hadn't heard from you in a while and we were worried," Raphael adds.

"Yes!" Michael declares loudly as Raphael's hand squeezes his thigh. "Really quite worried, indeed," he nods, as he looks at the angel next to him. "Isn't that right, Lepha?"

"Actually, I was watching because you're both disgustingly good-looking and really hot together," she says, shrugging at the glares the others throw at her. "What? Like he believed you guys."

Castiel sighs, feeling the migraine he isn't getting, getting worse. "Just-- stay out of my head when I'm with Dean, okay. It's rather disconcerting to have you lot in my mind giving pointers on technique."

Michael nods quickly. "Right. Staying out of your head. Promise."

"See that you do!" Castiel gives them all a final look before Heaven fades away and he's back at Bobby's.

"Ha!" Dean exclaims, as soon as Castiel is in the room. "I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away from me for long. Not when you had this waiting for you." He strokes his cock and leers at Castiel.

Castiel's not quite sure who told Dean he could leer well, but whoever they were, they were lying. He's tempted to point it out, but figures he could spend his energy on much more productive things. Like fucking Dean through the mattress.

And so he does.

~

Michael stares at the black screen in front of him, absolutely not pouting. He is, after all, an Archangel, and Archangels just don't do that sort of thing. Raphael's hand is running soothingly over his back and Michael leans towards him slightly.

"So, anyone have any ideas on what we can do now?"

Michael's words are met with long moments of silence.

"He didn't actually say we couldn't watch, did he?" Lepha points out eventually. "Just that we couldn't give him pointers."

"That's-- actually very true," Gabriel comments. "We'll just have to stay very quiet."

"Quiet? We can do quiet," Lepha says. "We're Angels of the Lord, Gabe, we can do ninja if it gets Dean Winchester's fine ass back on that screen."

"Quiet it is, then," Michael murmurs softly, "quiet as church mice."

"I don't know," Barachiel comments, "have you heard how noisy church mice can be? All that scratching and snuffling--"

"I will hurt you--"

But the rest of Lepha's threat is lost as the screen jumps back to life showing wide green eyes and sweat-slick skin and Oh god, Cas, yes, there--

And for the first time, Heaven stays silent.