And i will walk on water

Chapter nine

SO GUESS WHAT'S HAPPENING TOMORROW, GUYS? OH GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S ALMOST HERE. \O/ \O/ \O/

I'd originally hoped to finish this fic before the season started, actually, but that's obviously not gonna happen. I just hope it doesn't get Kripke'd too badly to the point where I hate writing it. -.- Thanks to everyone who's been following along so far, you guys are the best and your support/encouragement means the world to me. ♥

Title: And I Will Walk On Water (9/18)

Characters: Dean and Castiel, Sam, Bobby, Zachariah

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: ~9,300

Notes: ibroketuesday is the best damn beta in the entire world, I promise. (But you can't have her.) Also, there's a little scene in here that was shamelessly plagiarized from this thread (link goes to a post containing spoilery episode stills, but the scene in the fic isn't spoilery). XD

Summary: In which Dean tries to deal with things, and nothing goes as expected until the very end.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

It was tricky, trying to avoid Castiel while being as near to him as possible, but Dean found a not-quite-happy medium between his conflicting interests by watching him through the window. There wasn't much to see, in truth, since Castiel had turned his back toward the house, but Dean feasted on the sight anyway and soaked it in, kind of very pathetically. Castiel was sitting on top of Dean's car, as always, with his head tilted back slightly and his face turned toward the early morning sun. Dean could see it perfectly in his mind: the light falling onto his skin like the sun had risen for the sole purpose of highlighting and complementing Castiel's features, the sky trying to match Castiel's eyes in its blueness, the air stirring gently around Castiel's invisible feathers.

In other words, Dean was screwed.

Possibly even more screwed than he'd been last night, because even though it was a long shot, Dean could perhaps have pawned his inappropriate urges off on the fact that Castiel had rescued his ass again, or that he'd obviously been tense and in need of some kind of reassurance. But after a long, restless night of alternating between confusion and denial, it was morning now and Castiel didn't look tense or in need of comfort anymore (or at least, his shoulders didn't, since Dean couldn't see his face). And Dean still wanted to kiss him.

On the bright side, if there was such a thing as a bright side to this mess, which Dean doubted, at least he could let go of his confusion and denial now. He wasn't confused anymore, watching Castiel like this, because he realized his attraction wasn't to Castiel's man-shaped body but to Castiel, the angel, his friend, and it didn't matter whether Castiel's vessel was man-shaped or woman-shaped or blob-shaped. Well, admittedly, if Castiel had possessed a busty Asian beauty, Dean would probably have started wanting him a long time ago, but he could see now that even the physical attraction wouldn't have been able to cover his desire to simply be close to Castiel for too long, because if he thought about it (which he was doing, a lot), Dean didn't want to kiss and touch him for the sake of sex and pleasure. He wanted to kiss and touch Castiel for the sake of Castiel's pleasure, and for the intimacy. If Dean could ever have that, what did it matter if he had to accustom himself to dealing with differently shaped and designed parts in the process? They were just parts, after all, and suddenly so inconsequential. That particular revelation came as something of a relief, but mostly just to Dean's masculinity.

As for the denial, well, never let it be said that Dean Winchester couldn't realize a futile endeavor when one bit him on the nose. He wanted Castiel -- had wanted him for some time now, which was probably why he found it so surprisingly easy to accept -- and even though it still dismayed him, Dean knew that it wasn't just going to go away if he pretended it wasn't there.