Fic: By The Time You Get This Message

[dosciencetoit]

Back in September I took part in in deancastiel's Secret Angel Exchange. They revealed the authors yesterday, so I can claim it now. I'd been dying to write a fic set to Flobot’s song by the same name. It was originally posted here.

Title: By The Time You Get This Message
Written for prettify
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Word Count: ~4,700
Notes/Prompt(s): I covered “Road trip,” “Dean’s whumpy sweater,” and “Band!AU.”
Summary: Castiel was an musician. Dean was an electrician. They meet in Saint Louis, and almost fall in love.


By The Time You Get This Message

By the time you get this message
I will be behind the wheel.

It’s ridiculous, really, how much Dean is enjoying driving down the interstate. It’s hour fourteen of their drive and Sam is passed out in the passenger seat, mouth parted slightly as he snores. Dean doesn’t really care. He’s got the windows down, rock music blaring, and they’d stopped for coffee twenty minutes earlier. The cold air blasting in through the window makes him feel more alive than he has in a long while. He’s good for another two hours, and by then they’ll have made it.

Not for the first time, though, he wonders if it might just be a little bit crazy. Dropping everything to take part in a cross country, road trip on the off chance that Castiel might not hate him as much as he deserves. Sam would probably spout something girly about taking a chance, or following true love. For Dean, it’s more a matter of regret. He wants to make amends, and he doesn’t want to wonder what could have been.

He doesn’t expect anything to come out of it.

Despite what Sam believes, fifteen months is way too long for Cas to be carrying any kind of torch.

To his left, the yellow dashes separating the lanes start to blur together.

The stars I see aren’t even there.
It’s only light in the air.

Dean would have liked to say he wasn’t the kind of guy to pick up hitchhikers, except that he was. He had this whole helping people complex that his co-workers would tease him about. He didn’t get kittens out of trees or help little old ladies across the street, but he had the habit of calming down distraught children in the throes of temper tantrums and jumpstarting cars in the parking lot.

Needless to say, women loved him for it.

So, when he passed a car on the side of the road on the way back into Saint Louis, he felt sorry for the poor fucker who’d killed his car. And, when he saw the man walking along the side of the road a few miles later, he didn’t hesitate to pull over.

The man was walking in shuffled steps, obviously exhausted. He gave a birdlike tilt of his head when Dean reached over to roll down the car window. “That you’re car back there?”

The man nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “The engine cut out.”

“You need a ride into the city, or a tow truck?”

“If you wouldn’t mind calling a tow truck, it would be much appreciated.”

“Hope in,” Dean said as he thumbed through the contacts on his phone for the mechanic he knew. “I’ll give you a ride back to you car.”

“That really isn’t necessary,” the man started saying, but Dean ignored him in favour of making the call. He gave a rough estimate of the car’s location as he pushed the passenger door open, not even looking to see if the man would get in.

“Yeah, I’ll be by to pick up the parts on Monday. Thanks.” Putting the phone back down between the seats, Dean gestured to the man to get it. “Tow truck will be out here in 15 minutes, so unless you want to run it back to your car, you might want to get in.”

The man only showed a brief hesitation before getting into the car.

“Thank you,” he said, his quiet but rough. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you like this.”

Dean shrugged. “I’m in no rush. Name’s Dean, by the way.”

The man tilted his head again, clearly trying to puzzle something out. “Castiel,” he finally replied.

They made idle small talk while they waited for the tow truck to arrive, Castiel’s eyes boring into him the entire time. Dean left Castiel with the driver and firm instructions not to let the man overcharge him.

He expected that to be the end of it.

***

It wasn’t often Dean got personal calls during the day. A quick check that it wasn’t his parents or Sam had him answering the cell with a gruff, professional “Winchester.”

There was enough hesitation on the other end of the line to make Dean think it was a wrong number. He was about to hang up when a quiet voice filtered through. “Is this Dean?”

The voice sounded eerily familiar, but Dean couldn’t place it. “Yeah. Who am I talking to?”

“It’s Castiel. From the other night.”

It took Dean a moment to connect the name to the dimly lit face of the man he’d helped out the previous week. He had to get over the shock of the man actually contacting him before he was able to respond. “Hey, Cas. What can I do for you?”

Again, there was hesitation on the other end of the line, followed by chuckle, probably over the fact that Dean had shortened his name. “I got your number from the mechanic. I wanted to thank you for your assistance. Three other cars drove by before you stopped.”

The gesture was touching, in a creepy, stalker kind of way, but Dean figured the guy’s intentions were good. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t in a hurry. The car running alright now?”

“Ah... yes. It was the alternator, I believe. The mechanic said it was a simple repair.”

“That’s good to hear,” Dean replied, genuinely happy for the guy that it wasn’t anything serious. He knew Cas was new in town, and it would have sucked to be without transportation. “Listen. I’ve got to get back to work, but I’m glad you got it sorted out...”

“I would like to take you out for dinner this weekend to thank you for your help,” Cas said, cutting in.

Dean fell silent, mulling the idea over. Cas came on a little strong, but he seemed like a nice guy, and Dean really didn’t have any other plans. Still, dinner was a bit too intimate for him; only chicks did that kind of thing. “Make it a beer, and I’ll take you up on it.”

***

“So you actually played in a band? Full time?”

A beer had turned into pizza and wings once Dean realized Cas was actually pretty good company, of all of his awkward speech and intense staring. Dean had just finished explaining he’d moved to Saint Louis because of a girl, but it hadn’t worked out. He was working as an electrician for a construction company until the lease on the apartment ran out, but he wanted to move back to Lawrence to work as an independent contractor.

“Yes,” Cas replied around a large bite of pizza. “I played guitar and did background vocals. We toured a lot around North America, but I left because we had a conflict of interest. I’m staying with my sister until I figure out what to do next.”

“Why not start up another band?”

Cas shrugged. “I’m not certain I have the talent to step out of my previous genre.”

“What about music lessons?” Dean tried again, feeling helpful.

“I’m not certain I have the patience for that,” Cas commented with a self-deprecating laugh.

An idea formed in Dean’s head. He needed a hobby; Cas needed work. “You could practice on me?”

“You want me to teach you how to play guitar?”

“You think I can’t do it?”

“No, I’m just surprised you would want to.” He fidgeted with his napkin before adding, “You hardly know me.”

But I want to change that, Dean found himself thinking.

***

Guitar lessons went about as well as Dean could have expected, given that he’d never had any kind of musical training. The only saving grace, and the only thing stopping Castiel from storming out in frustration, was that Dean had a good ear for music, even if he couldn’t read it.

Still, it wasn’t all terrible. Beyond lessons, their friendship grew faster than Dean would have expected. People always liked him, but he found it hard to make any kind of lasting connection with them. With Cas, though, he found himself putting in real effort. He found himself wanting to make him smile, and he liked the feeling.

As the weeks progressed, Dean was able to convince Cas to play something of his own for him. It was a slow song, but watching Cas close his eyes, concentrating on the way his fingers moved over the instrument, Dean couldn’t help but see the intense passion and emotion Cas radiated.

It was one of the hottest things Dean had ever seen.

That thought scared him.

He’d never considered men that way before, really. Sure, he’d had girlfriends turn the threesome table on him. The idea hadn’t been a turn off for him, but that was it. Now he found himself wondering what else he could do to evoke that kind of passion from Cas.

Sometimes, he wondered if Cas might feel the same way. He would catch Cas staring at him all the time. He would find Cas crowding his personal space. He would hardly have to move to reach out and touch him.

But he never did it, and neither did Cas.

***

“Anna wants me to audition for her friend’s band,” Cas said by way of greeting one evening.

“That’s great!” Dean enthused, clearing a space on the couch for Cas to sit. He looked up to see the less than excited expression on Cas’ face. “Not great?”

“I know Anna’s friend,” Cas said with a sigh. “He is the epitome of ‘sex, drugs and rock’n’roll.’ My last group was more... wholesome.”

“Do you like the music?” Dean asked, cutting past the issue of persona to the heart of the matter.

“Gabriel is very talented, but I worry...”

“Don’t worry,” Dean cut in harshly. “You’re so hung up on comparing everything to your last band. You need to remember that you left them. You left. Because you wanted something better. Maybe this is it.”

Cas looked up at Dean with a sigh. “Perhaps you’re correct.”

“I am.”

A faint smile quirked the corners of his lips up. He laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder and leaned in to press his lips gently against Dean’s cheek. It was sudden, and quick. Cas pulled back before Dean could even react.

“Thank you,” Cas said, acting oblivious to Dean’s turmoil. “I’ll go call Gabriel now.”

***

Dean was at work when Cas went to the audition, and Cas didn’t tell him about it. He was waiting for Dean outside his apartment when Dean arrived home, a bright smile on his face, radiant. He kept quiet until they were inside the apartment, but Dean could see he was barely able to contain his excitement. It was so out of character, Dean found it endearing.

“Alright, Cas. Spill.”

“Gabriel’s band offered me the part.” Cas was animated as he spoke, his eyes bright. “We’ll spend the next month practicing and putting together some new songs, then head out on the road. Gabriel has some connections, so we’re going to see if we can’t get a few shows at bigger venues.”

Cas’ enthusiasm was infectious. Dean grinned back and found himself overcome with the urge to kiss Cas.

So he did.

Cas’ lips were warm, but he didn’t respond. Realizing he’d made a major mistake, Dean drew back, searching Cas’ face. Cas stared back at him, questioning. He was asking, “Why did you do that?” instead of “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Dean stuttered out. “I thought...”

“What?” Cas cut in when Dean trailed off. “What did you expect would come out of it?”

Dean was taken aback by Cas’ question. He got defensive. “I didn’t really expect anything. I wanted to. Whatever happened after would happen.”

Cas shook his head. “Until now, you’ve only been with women. Can you tell me you’d be willing to come out to your friends and family? Because I won’t hide who I am.”

Silent in the face of Cas’ question, Dean looked away. Cas took his non-reaction as rejection and turned away. “I’ll go now. Call me when you’ve thought it through.”

“It was just a kiss. Why does it have to be such a big deal?” Dean demanded. It was something he’d be interested in exploring, but he didn’t want to have to make such a life changing decision, like coming out, so quickly.

He saw Cas’ shoulders tense, saw Cas’ reflection in the mirror on the back the door, eyes hard. Dean met his gaze in the reflection, daring him to challenge the statement.

Cas’ face fell. He put a hand on the door, and whispered quietly. “I won’t live a lie, and I won’t wait. I hope you find a woman who makes you happy.”

Dean watched Cas walk out of his apartment, fighting the urge to call out to him.

He didn’t hear from Cas again after that.

Fifteen Months Later

Sam had decided to crash at Dean’s house that summer instead of their parents. Dean didn’t mind the company, but he questioned Sam’s choice in morning television.

“MTV? Really?” Dean called out around a mouthful of toast. “Couldn’t you find something a little more stimulating?”

Sam gave him the finger over the back of the couch. “My brain gets stimulated enough in law school. I need the vacation to decompress. Besides, it’s riveting celebrity gossip.”

He turned the volume up on the TV, allowing Dean to hear the programming.

“We caught up with The Fallen after their last North American show, and we were able to ask front man Gabriel and guitarist Castiel a few questions.”

At the sound of Castiel’s name, Dean bounded into the living room. Castiel wasn’t a very common name...

And sure enough, it was Castiel on screen, all blue eyes and impassive face. Sam arched an eye brow, questioning Dean’s reaction, but he didn’t notice. All of his attention was focused on the TV.

“How do you feel about your first international tour?” the announcer asked, holding out the microphone to the other man with Castiel.

“Some of us have played the UK before. Hell, for Crowley it’s home coming. Castiel’s the only international virgin amongst us.”

Cas looked decidedly uncomfortable at the way his band mate answered, but he kept silent. The interviewer took exception to this, and tried to get him engaged in the conversation. “Castiel, you’re enjoying a fair bit of fame with The Fallen, while your previous band Host is floundering amidst rumours that you were forced out of the band because of your sexuality. How do you feel about that?”

Dean’s eyes went wide, finally connecting the dots. Cas’ reaction all those months ago suddenly made so much more sense. Sam could only watch his brother in confusion.

“I take no satisfaction in their struggles.” Cas answered with a shrug. “It was difficult to be a gay man in a Christian rock group, and I left because I refused to hide who I was any longer. Zachariah, our producer at the time, was adamant that we put forth a wholesome image, and I felt I no longer fit with that persona. I can only wish them the best, but I would like to focus on The Fallen and our European tour. I am looking forward to seeing as much of the country as I can.”

The interview cut out, and it took Dean a minute to realize he was shaking. Sam turned off the TV and rounded on Dean. “What the hell, man?”

“I know him,” Dean replied softly, blinking back the tears that were starting to form. “I thought he was one of those ‘out and proud’ types. Didn’t realize he’d kept himself in the closet for so long.”

Dean turned to face his brother, choking back tears. “I fucked up, Sammy.”

He explained everything to Sam, and when he finished, he expected Sam to call him an idiot.

“You need to go after him,” Sam pointed out, instead.

“What?”

“There was something between the two of you. You need to go to Cas and tell him everything.”

“He’s probably left the country by now,” Dean replied, defeated.

“Their concert was last night. There’s still the chance that you can get in touch with him!”

Against his better judgement, and with Sam’s prodding, Dean called Anna. He knew she’d be the best bet for finding out where Cas was going to be.

“He’s flying out of Buffalo tomorrow at noon. He’s got a six hour layover there,” she told him grudgingly over the phone. “And here’s his number. You’d better not screw this up.”

“I won’t,” Dean answered, surprised by the conviction in his voice.

He hung up the phone and looked at Sam. Sam looked back hopefully, a box of granola bars and his travel pillow in hand. “Road trip?”

“Sixteen hours between here and Buffalo?” Dean warned. “You sure you’re up for it?”

“Definitely.”

“I’ve got some calls I need to make before I can skip out on work. If you’ve got anything you need to do, do it. We’re leaving by two.”


By the time you get this message I’ll be
Either on my second flight or already
All the way to my destination.

He knows, deep down, that it’s foolish to keep looking for Dean. The message Dean left, a surprise in itself, said that he would be waiting for the plane to arrive. The forty minute delay even gave Dean extra time.

Even so, Castiel finds himself looking around the terminal for that familiar grin and piercing green eyes.

The disappointment is palpable. He should be excited that he’s going to Europe, and that the band is so successful, but all he can think of is the message Dean left on his phone. He thinks he hid it well; Crowley and Gabriel don’t say anything, at least.

He hears the announcement for boarding, and wants to scream, brain trying to come up with reasons why Dean wouldn’t make it when he said he would.

He hides his reaction behind his usual mask of calm, though, and shows the flight attendant his pass.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Kali presses herself up behind him. She whispers in his ear, “Whoever you were waiting for, you should call him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kali laughs. “The man you were waiting for. Call him. You’ve got some time before the flight takes off. Call him and tell him how you feel.”

She leaves Castiel standing, slack-jawed, in the aisle. After a moment of indecision he finds his seat and pulls out his phone. He calls Dean back, and tries not to let his disappointment show when it goes to voicemail. He leaves a message anyway, telling Dean everything he’d ever wanted to say.

Cheek pressed against the window, he hears the pilot announce their imminent departure. He wraps up the call, and wonders if he’ll ever hear from Dean again.

***

The first show in London goes mind-blowingly well. Cas is still a little jet-legged from the flight, but he’s soaring on the crowds energy. Playing shows had never been like it is now. He’s happy to have something to keep his mind off of other things.

As they head back stage, Gabriel passes him with a slap to the back, while Crowley saunters by with a smirk. He grins back. Kali places a hand on his shoulder and smiles. She nods her head, directing his attention back the way they came.

He lets his gaze follow hers down the hall, and he sees someone leaning against the wall. It’s a man, from the height, wearing an oversized sweater. The hood is up, obscuring the features, but Castiel can make out an angular jaw covered in stubble.

His heart stutters, and he takes a few hesitant steps forward. “Dean?”

The man pushes back the hood, and Castiel is met with green eyes and a blinding smile. “Hey Cas. Great show.”

“What are you doing here?”

Dean’s smile falters a little bit. “I got your message, and I just couldn’t leave things like that. I got held up when a propane tanker rolled on the interstate, so I missed you at the airport.”

“You flew all the way here...” Castiel says, trying to keep up with the conversation. “You hate flying.”

“I had to let you know it wasn’t a joke,” Dean replies. “I screwed up before. I’m not promising anything, but I flew all the way out here to tell you that I think I love you, and I won’t hide it.”

Castiel doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, reaches forward and pulled Dean in for a kiss.

It’s messy, and awkward, with teeth clashing and too much tongue, but Castiel couldn’t have asked for anything better. The feel of Dean’s stubble against his cheek might as well be heaven. Down the hall, he hears Gabriel cat-calling, but he doesn’t care. Kali ushers the other two away at the same time as Dean draws back.

“I take that as a yes,” Dean teases, before leaning in for another kiss. He takes control of this one, and it’s enough to make Castiel go weak in the knees. The gentle nips at his lower lip, and the feel of Dean’s tongue against his is enough to make him come undone.

He pulls back this time, unwilling to make a fool of himself in a hallway. “Let’s get out of here.”

Dean nods, and takes his hand to lead him out of the building. There are a few photographers and fans milling around outside, and to his credit, Dean doesn’t even flinch when they’re photographed together.

Castiel figures maybe things will work out after all, and he doesn’t think twice about taking Dean back to the cheap hotel they’ve been put up in. It’s a short walk there, and it’s a struggle for Castiel to keep his hands to himself now that he’s been given permission to touch. Dean seems to be suffering from the same problem, if the way his hands keep wandering is any indication.

The doors to the elevator barely shut before Dean is on him again. He presses Castiel against the wall and kisses him again. He sucks at Castiel’s lower lip, nips at it, sooths it with his tongue, then does it all over again. His hands grip Castiel’s hips tight, pressing their bodies together. It lets Castiel see that, yes, Dean wants it exactly as much as he does.

It’s all Castiel can do to slide his hands up under the sweater and try to feel as much of Dean as he can.

They’re so wrapped up in one another that it takes the elevator dinging to break them apart, afraid they might have been caught. Dean chuckles at their reaction and pulls Castiel out of the elevator with a whisper of, “Want you so bad.”

It’s all the drive Castiel needs to cover the twenty feet to the door. He unlocks it with efficient movements, and all but slams it shut once they’re inside. Then he pushes Dean towards the bed and tries to pull off the sweater at the same time. It’s uncoordinated, and Dean ends up falling onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

Taking advantage of the situation, Castiel gets up onto the bed and straddles Dean, using the sweater to keep Dean’s hands pinned above his head. He feels Dean struggle to free himself, but it gives him the opportunity to nip and suck at Dean’s neck and chest.

As soon as Dean frees himself from the cumbersome sweater, he thrusts his hips up and uses the momentum to reverse their positions. He nips at Castiel’s lips again before growling into his ear, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

Castiel moans at the words, unable form the words to tell Dean he’s actually got a pretty good idea. He fumbles at Dean’s belt, and groans in satisfaction when he manages to undo the jeans.

Dean pulls back and sits on his heels, giving him room to undo Castiel’s pants as well. Castiel can feel Dean’s thighs quivering on top of him, and can’t stop himself from thrusting up into Dean’s hands. He moans at the contact, earning him a choked groan from Dean in return.

“You keep making noises like that,” Dean comments, voice deeper and rougher than usual, “And I’m not going to last very long.”

The sound of Dean’s voice is almost enough to push Castiel over the edge. He surges up and pulls Dean down again, so that they’re lying face to face. Without preamble, he slides his hand inside the waistband of Dean’s boxers. Dean’s cock is hot and hard against his palm. Suddenly tentative, he carefully wraps his fingers around the length. He watches Dean as he slowly starts to move his hand up and down.

Dean’s head falls back, and his eyes flutter shut. He bites his lip to keep from moaning out loud. It’s a moment before Dean can gather himself enough to start returning the favour. He lets his fingers trail over Castiel’s hip before pushing his underwear. It gives him a better grip on Castiel’s cock, firm and insistent. He starts to move his hand in time with Castiel’s, and leans in to kiss him again at the same time.

Dean thrusts his tongue into Castiel’s mouth, swallowing his moans. His hand moves surely, twisting as his wrist moves up and down. His thumb passes over the slit, gathering the fluid that was starting to leak out. His thumb rubs along the grove below the head, and Castiel knows he’s not going to last much longer.

He tightens his grip on Dean’s cock, pumping faster. He hopes they’ll come at the same time.

He isn’t disappointed.

Dean’s movements falter. He breaks the kiss with Castiel and moves to bite down on the flesh between Castiel’s neck and shoulder. It hurts. The pleasure is enough to send Castiel careening over the edge. He throws his head back and comes hard with a cry just as he feels Dean’s warm release coating his hand.

They lie facing each other, breathing heavy. Dean smiles, a slow, languid gesture, before rolling onto his back. Castiel can tell his content and satisfied. He wants nothing more than to curl up next to him, but the idea of falling asleep in the mess they’ve just made is enough to set him groping for something to clean up with.

His hand lands on Dean’s sweater, and he figures it’s better than sleeping in it. He wipes his hand and stomach off, but when he goes to offer it to Dean he sees him slowly licking Castiel’s come off his fingers.

It’s one of the hottest things Castiel has ever seen, and his groin gives a little stir of interest. If he’s honest, though, he’s too tired to do anything but lean over and kiss Dean again, tasting himself on Dean’s lips.

They manage to arrange themselves comfortably on the double bed, with Dean’s back pressed flush against Castiel’s chest. He rests a hand on Dean’s hip, and falls asleep with his face resting against Dean’s neck.

At some point during the night, he wakes to feel Dean tensing up in his arms. He tries to rub soothing circles onto Dean’s hip. He hopes Dean isn’t having second thoughts, and almost hesitates before asking, “What’s wrong?”

He wants a few more moments of bliss before the bubble bursts.

“I left Sammy with the Impala in Buffalo,” Dean mumbles back, shaking. “He’s going to ruin her.”

Castiel frowns into Dean’s shoulder, processing what Dean said. He speaks slowly, trying to understand. “You love that car...”

Dean turns himself over onto his stomach and presses a kiss to Castiel’s forehead. “I think I might love you more. I didn’t even blink at leaving her with him.”

The gesture doesn’t escape Castiel, and he rewards Dean with another kiss. Dean relaxes into it momentarily before pulling back, frowning. “If he lets anything happen to her, I’m going to kill him.”

Not so subtly, Castiel places his hand on the curve of Dean’s ass. “Later,” he murmurs before nipping at Dean’s lower lip. It doesn’t take much for Dean to let himself be distracted.

End