It's In Your Eyes

Pills

Dean's POV-

Cas's mouth is against mine, and its all gentle and sweet. I can barely feel his hands, their touch is so light, but everywhere they make contact electricity courses through my skin, making my hair stand on end. His tongue brushes over my chapped lips, but only just, before his mouth is back in full and covering mine with these perfect, firm pecks. Right up to the corner and back again to my cupids bow. His lips feel much fuller when they're pressed against me, and soft like feathers. I feel as though I'm floating over the roof, not just sitting on it. I bet the dark sky would feel like velvet to touch.

I accidentally let out a quiet hum as he kisses me a little harder and he must hear, I can feel his smirking against me, twisting a little to press his forehead to mine in that most intimate way, causing my chest to tighten. The tip of his nose is touching just next to mine on my cheek, and I can feel his eyelashes sweeping across my skin whenever he moves the slightest bit, so long I would think them real if I hadn't seen them in person.

My mind grows foggier as his fingertips dance across my midriff, just under my shirt. There's that past of me freaking out, fighting to pull away again, pull away and run. Hide. But it feels trapped in my throat.

He drags his left hand higher, careful to keep his touch light. It feels almost caring. Maybe even a touch hesitant. And somewhere watt back, buried in my mind I'm screaming for him to be more forceful, confident. Screaming for me to be sure and forget how my brain was twisted and trained growing up. I keep my eyes clamped shut, searching for a way to communicate this to him.

I drag him a little closer over the shingles of the roof, pulling his lower lip into my mouth. His knees slip either side of me and he rises up on the to get closer. So I pull off his mouth and he sighs a little, cutting short move to his neck, everything coming so naturally. I nip and kiss just under his jaw and a groan rolls through him, and deep as his laugh, but much harder. His left hand snakes up higher, around my neck and into my hair with a sharp, measured tug, making my gasp, while his other traces down one of my thighs, practically between his legs. If I opened my eyes I swear I would barely be able to see. So I don't dare.

Cas uses this vantage point to lean back and pull me down over him. My heart is racing and I can barely catch a breath as my stomach comes to rest between his legs for a moment. But just a moment. Before my foot slips on a smooth shingle and I'm sliding away, down the roof towards the sheer drop to the ground. I can't scream, just stare silently at Cas's blank face waving me go.

I feel a laugh rise up from my throat, a cruel laugh, the trapped, disgusted part of me free and thanking the damn karma police for intervening.

My feet drop over the edge, my fingers scrabbling frantically for anything to grab hold of, to stop me, but I find nothing and my palms are bleeding from the sharp grit of the roofing. My torso flops over and I yelp, eyes painfully wide, and sudden downwards force. I grab the gutter and jerk to a halt. Twisting my head round, I look down on the little garden some stories below. The drop was never short, but I seems like it could have stretched a few floors more. If I fall, I'm skewed. I look back up and straight into Cas's sapphire eyes. But they're hard, angry like I've never seen them, as he leans in close. So close I can feel his breath on my face, and smell it.

It's thick with heavy alcohol and his voice isn't his anymore when he speaks.

"You disgust me, vile behaviour. Sickness."

It's just like I'm nine again. The same words he said then, something I haven't thought of in years. Something I didn't remember till now.
"I'm sorry, daddy really I am I am." I whisper. "Please..." And Cas's hands push me from the roof.

And I'm falling...

~

I wake up shivering, wrapped up in sweat soaked sheets. My hands are throbbing and I pull them out of the covers up to my face. In the dim light or early morning I can see red pooling a little around my fisted finger, and my stomach flips. Unfurling them, I wince, leaving behind little crescents where my nail had cut into my palm. That's the worst nightmare I've had in a while and a sinking in my stomach makes my mind stutter...

They said they should have stopped by now...

I open my draw and scoop out my wash bag, and my mobile phone, before sitting up. The second I do my vision tilts violently and I have to spirit from the room, as quietly as I can manage. I throw up in the toilets and wash up at basins, the harsh, florescent lights doing little to help my pounding headache. The blood from my hands rinses away down the plughole, leaving behind those eight little moon shaped, red cuts.

I dig in my wash bag for a minute, and pull out a prescription bottle I haven't looked at for a couple months. It's nearly full of little blue capsules, I stopped taking them just after filling my prescription.

I sink down in the shower cubical, door locked, the container of drugs balanced on my knee, and I open my phone. I usually don't use it much during term time. All my friends are here and Sammy doesn't like to bother me. I do check in weekly, a quick text: "Has everything been okay this week, Sammy?". Usually a reply of, " Yeah. School still sucks and dad's not been home in a few days, but yeah." He isn't happy there, so he can hardly be expected to say anything else, but he knows I care. As long as there's nothing to bad to report. But other than that, the phone just sits in my draw.

Now I dial with shaky fingers and hold the phone to my ear.