kore_logs | Tie your hair and gently fall from grace

Castiel wakes up and that's the first sign that something isn't right. The fact that he's waking up with his face pressed against the hard wood floor isn't helping matters. He pushes himself up and he's surprised to find that he feels sore. That's what he notices that something is very, very wrong. His grace is... gone.

He goes straight for Dean's room, throwing the door open quickly. "Dean, wake up." His voice is serious, even alarmed.

Edited 2013-04-06 03:16 (UTC)

All it takes is those three words spoken in that kind of tone for Dean to jerk awake and sit up, one hand sliding under his pillow for his demon knife and closing around the handle.

"Cas, what's wrong?" He only sounds worried like that when some serious shit is going down, and Dean rubs his hand over his eye to get the last of the sleep out of it. He needs to be alert.

Moving into the room, Castiel shuts the door behind him. "I seem to have... fallen asleep and now I can't feel my grace."

He moves further into the room and then he sits on the end of Dean's bed. He feels weak and it's not just the lack of grace that he's feeling. He's been without his power before and this isn't a lack of it. It's weakness. "I feel ill."

Okay, so not demon knife material, so he can let that go, but it's still only massively freaking worrying because what the fuck? Cas fell from grace... like, again? Isn't that a big fucking deal? Jesus, no wonder he feels ill, and Dean finishes rubbing his eyes as he scoots over to sit next to him on the bed.

"Ill how? Ill like oh I'm all humany and it's gross, or ill like... really ill?" He stops and eyes Cas. "You gonna puke? Don't puke on my bed."

"I'm not going to vomit, Dean." He turns his head to give Dean his best why would you say something that stupid look. "I feel weak... tired."

Hungry doesn't seem far off, either. He feels an emptiness that he needs to feel and it is akin to hunger. He licks his lips.

"I've never felt quite like this before."

How's he supposed to know? He shoots Cas a look back, but then Cas licks over his lips, and Dean follows the whole movement, eyes glued to his mouth. God, that was hot.

...Right. So, anyway, back in his upstairs brain. What even was that? Had he been having a sexy dream or something? Has his dry spell gone on that long?

"Have you tried eating? You're probably starving. And what the hell even happened to you to make you lose your grace?"

"I don't know." He shakes his head. This shouldn't be possible, but it's not just that he's cut off. It's missing. "I'm not hungry. I know hunger. I'm... empty."

He leans in a little, licking his lips again. He feels drawn to Dean like a moth to a flame.

His voice drops as he gets closer. "Dean, I don't know what to do."

Dean'd thought he recovered, but there Cas goes licking his lips again, and Dean's eyes are drawn back to his mouth. He notices Cas moving in closer, but it doesn't send up any red flags, doesn't trip any alarm bells. The closer Cas gets, the more he wants Cas to be there, and he doesn't really understand why, but it doesn't seem like a big deal. Not when he wants it.

"Guess we need to figure out how to fill you up," he says, also hushed.

The closer they get, the more Castiel can almost put a name on what this is--this hunger, this tension growing between them now. He feels almost dizzy with it and he's already started to breath quietly through his mouth.

"How else would you... fill me up?" There are only inches between them and Castiel's voice has dropped to a whisper.

What's even happening right now? There's a little voice in his head yelling abort mission, but wow, does that voice seem quiet and far away. He feels warm and comfortable, and the only thing he's sure that he wants is for Cas to finish closing the space between them and take whatever he wants. And if that's what Dean wants, then whatever. Why freak out about it? Sure, okay, it's Cas, but also... it's Cas.

He's breathing shallowly, his lips parting almost in anticipation, or invitation.

"I could think of a few things we could try," he says lowly, eyes still on Cas's mouth.

Without any more warning, Castiel leans forward and kisses Dean. It's hard and demanding, his hand coming up to Dean's cheek to hold him in place and--oh.

He can feel the energy flowing between them and that emptiness inside him starts to fill. This is what he'd been craving. There's a warmth pooling in his stomach that is just as much magical as sexual and he can recognize that, too. That appetite isn't just for energy, but also for sex, and this is fulfilling both needs.

He hums softly, pulling back just a fraction of an inch with his lips parted and he can feel the energy still flowing from Dean into himself.

Yes. He gives as good as he gets, even as he starts to feel dazed and maybe a little dizzy. So what? Kissing Cas is amazing; he can feel it all the way down to his bones -- actual ones, not his boner, though he can feel it there too -- and he doesn't want it to stop until both of them are satisfied, okay.

His eyes stay closed when Cas pulls away, and he gives a small noise of complaint; he'd try to follow Cas's mouth, start the kiss up again, but he dazedly recognizes that he's kind of stuck in place. Whatever; he still feels connected to Cas, still feels something pulsing between them, and he fumbles around until he can clutch the front of Cas's coat, gripping him tightly.

The longer he feeds, the stronger Castiel feels. That weakness is already ebbing away to be slowly replaced by a feeling of strength that he can at least tell is supernatural by nature.

Dean grabs his coat and Castiel realizes that he wants more. Why should he fight this hunger when he's finally found the cure?

He leans back in easily and he pushes himself up and over until he's straddling Dean's thighs, lips meeting Dean's again.

Oh, hello. Basically the only thing Dean can think about is how much he wants Cas, how good he feels, how good he smells, and he kisses back hungrily. He feels a little weak-kneed, but it's nothing troubling yet, and probably just a result of Cas being a closet sex machine.

He slides his other hand underneath the overcoat and over Cas's back, where he grabs onto the jacket there and tries to hold Cas in his lap. Maybe it's weird how hungry this is for the both of them because there's something waking up in Dean too, a kind of voracious appetite for the good things in life. He moans encouragingly, and just the tiniest bit pleadingly, as he tries to pull Cas closer to him.

As abruptly as it had started, he stops, pulling away and forcibly stopping that flow of energy. He can't just keep taking like that. He'll hurt Dean and he can't let that happen.

Once the connection is broken, he realizes what is actually happening here. He stares at Dean, wide-eyed, and then he pulls back, using his new-found strength to extricate himself and stand on shaky legs.

"Dean." His breaths are still coming in short pants. "I-I'm sorry. I--"

He turns and bolts from the room.

What -- ?

The crushing disappointment he feels when the connection breaks is distracting -- what is that about? what was that? -- but then Cas bolts, leaving Dean panting hard and also hard all alone in his bed. Are you freaking kidding?

It takes a minute for Dean's thoughts to start back up again properly, for him to be able to breathe without still smelling Cas. So his grace is gone and now he's, what, tongue kissing some soul strength out of Dean? It seems completely bizarre and out of character for him, but he can hear Cas and Meg talking down the hall. Maybe he'll let her handle this one.

Because Dean should probably take a few minutes to have a small crisis about how much he wanted Cas, but the only thing he's upset about is that Cas left.

Also, holy shit, but does he want a lollipop right now.

After he slips away from Dean, he's no less concerned. He's not entirely sure what to do, but Meg is good with these things. She's helped him through so much. Maybe she'll know what to do. Whatever this is, it could easily be Lucifer's doing.

He stands in the hallway, indecisive, and then he takes a breath to steal himself and goes right to her room, pushing he door open without knocking. "Meg?"

Seriously? Seriously? Has no one ever taught the damn angel it's rude to barge into a lady's bedroom without knocking? Okay, so Meg isn't exactly a lady but the point still stands.

She's been awake for a little while, experimenting with her new abilities. Oh come on, sure, it kinda sucks that whoever is responsible for this has the power to change them willy nilly, but what better way to piss off the angel brigade than by being one of them.

That probably explains why her wings are showing when he barges in. Of course, they disappear almost as quickly. "No one ever teach you to knock, Clarence?"

"No." He answers the question absently. Between his flustered entrance and catching sight of wings, Castiel has a hard time really focusing on anything else.

"Were those--" He walks up to her, stopping just inside her personal space. "Meg, what's going on?"

She really wishes she had the answers he wants, but she's just as in the dark as he is. Apparently whoever is behind the change - most likely their captors - didn't leave an informative guide for them to read.

"Beats me. All I know is I woke up as a fully fledged, card carrying member of the feather brigade." To prove her point, a glimmer of her wings flashes again - brilliant white feathers, only for the briefest of seconds before vanishing again.

Castiel actually has to squint and then cover his eyes at the view. It's too bright and knowing that kills him. He almost wonders if she has his grace.

He lowers his hand. "That makes one of us." He's not sure what he is, but he's no angel.

"Excuse me? Don't tell me you're out of juice again? Oh come on. I join the feather brigade and you skydive off your cloud? Great." Maybe she's a little disappointed. Suddenly having pretty angel wings doesn't seem so fantastic.

She eyes him up and down with a hint of concern. "Are you... human or did someone just shut off the mojo tap?"

He opens his mouth and closes it again. He's not entirely sure. What he just did to Dean, that wasn't human. Thinking about it again sends him right back into that hunger, though. He'd felt better before, but now it's there again, just as strong as before, even if he feels less weak.

Taking a few steps closer, he stops just outside of invading her personal space. "I don't think I'm quite human, either, but I don't know what's doing this."

She lifts a hand to stroke his jaw. "We'll figure it out, we always do."

The more she looks at him, the more she can see something. It seems almost demonic, but she can't quite put her finger on it. Definitely not a regular black-eye. So there goes her theory of their powers being switched.

Letting out a long, heavy breath at her touch, he moves closer without even meaning to. He doesn't stop until there are only inches separating them.

"Meg, I don't think I'm safe to touch." Not that that gets him to back down.

He's overwhelmed with the urge to push her back into the wall and take. He already knows what she feels like in that position and he feels aroused from kissing Dean and from thinking about Meg like that. It would be so easy, too. It's just a few short steps and then he can press against her and show her just how much he's learned since the last time they kissed.

Funny how his words aren't quite matching his actions. Like saying you can't possibly make room for dessert while reaching across the table to take a slice. Is she dessert, Cas?

"You're the one who's always telling us how so little can harm an angel. And you're no chomper, and I don't see your blade." Besides, he's right there, how is she supposed to not touch him?

What little resolve he had to resist these urges completely crumbles and he grabs her hips hard and moves in to press against her, lips crashing into hers with rough need.

She is most definitely dessert and he's a starved man on an island who can't possible get his fill. He hasn't really gained any finesse that he's capable of showing off here, but his hunger is readily apparent in every action, as is the fact that he is pretty turned on right now.

Well hello there, Cas! This is definitely a much better wake up call than discovering she has wings - well, except for the part where she's already awake. Minor point.

She snakes an arm around his neck, returning his kiss. A little dark in him looks good. She'll take it if it means getting a mind-blowing kiss out of her favourite little fuzzball.

As soon as Meg starts to return the kiss, he can feel that same energy flow that he'd felt from Dean. This is a little different, maybe because of what she is now, but it's no less pleasurable.

He pushes her back gently towards the wall. He's not quite sure what he's doing, but he knows it will be easier if he can just touch as much of her as possible.

Meg has no objections to being pushed into a wall, but really, there is a bed right there! Still, if he wants her against the wall, he can have her against the wall. She can feel Grace swimming around her body, and oh boy it's one weird feeling.

But it's hard to concentrate on it for too long when she's got Cas kissing her as though their very lives depend on it. She brings her other arm up to wrap around his neck too.

This feels amazing and not just because he can feel her hip against his erection. The energy is making him feel strong, more alive. He's been starved and this is what he's needed.

As quickly as it had started, he pulls back, eyes wide, and steps away, reaching up to disentangle her arms from his neck. "I'm--I shouldn't."

There should be laws about this kind of thing. Sucking face without following through should be illegal and punishable by death. As soon as Meg starts to enjoy herself it's all over and Cas looks like a frightened puppy about to pee on the rug. He better not pee on her rug.

She runs her fingers over her kiss-swollen bottom lip. "...What was that?" And how can she get more?

"It was--" He's searching for words and there really aren't any adequate ones. "A mistake."

He backs the rest of the way out of the room. He doesn't know how to even begin to apologize anymore, so he just leaves instead.

A mistake? Well gee, way to make a girl feel special, Cas. Just what every girl wants to hear after being kissed is that it was a mistake. Ugh. Can she just go back to bed and hope this is all a bad dream?

Or maybe just hide out in her room awhile to avoid running in to Cas again. Being a mistake is kind of depressing.

Tie your hair and gently fall from grace

[ Dean ]

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[ Meg ]

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