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There was a time, many years ago, when Castiel was captured by Hell’s forces.
The order had come down from Heaven – rumour was, direct from Michael himself – for Castiel’s garrison to storm the keep of a demon named Belial. There were whispers that this demon knew the location of a powerful artefact, one that could potentially turn the tide of the war. Castiel and a handful of others went in first, a whirlwind of white light and holy terror. But it was all a trap, laid by Belial’s minions, and they were easily defeated, then taken as prisoners of war. Castiel and his four brothers and sisters languished for years in cells made of bone and lit by red fire. They were tortured, interrogated, and forced to listen to the screams of other prisoners. So it was, day after endless day, until finally, Anna broke through Belial’s ranks and tore their cages asunder.
Hell has changed much in the intervening centuries.
“Seven little girls, sittin’ in the back seat, kissin’ and a huggin’ with Fred.”
Somehow, it’s gotten worse.
“C’mon, Castiel. All together now, one, two, three. . .”
“Do you never get tired of the sound of your own voice?” Castiel says, repeatedly thumping the back of his head against the wall of his cell, and wishing desperately it was possible to knock himself out.
He’s beginning to appreciate how The Empty must have felt.
Lucifer encircles his hands around the bars that separate their cells, pressing his face against them enough that they warp his features. “I know you know this one, Cas. Can’t you sing along? I mean, what else are you gonna do? Sit around and mope?”
“I’m thinking,” Castiel says.
“Oh, well, don’t hurt yourself.”
Castiel ignores him, shutting his eyes and reaching out with his mind. There had been a wave of. . . of something from Dean a short while ago. It’s faded now, but Castiel can’t help but try to seek him out again.
“You think he knows?” Lucifer asks.
Again, Castiel doesn’t respond, not wanting to take the bait.
“Caaaassss. I said, do you think he knows?”
Irritation getting the better of him, Castiel opens his eyes enough to glare. “What are you talking about?”
“Dean. Little Deanie-Weenie. Captain Sadsack. Think he knows how loud he’s being?”
Uneasiness trickles through Castiel. “Loud?”
“Mmm, yeah. The longing.” He over-enunciates the word, his lips sticking all the way through the bars. “I mean, I didn’t always notice, but in here, nothing to do but listen – man, he sure wants you, Castiel.”
Heat floods Castiel’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lucifer snorts. “Good one. Very convincing. But seriously, how do you put up with this? I mean, I’m just picking up the spill-over here, and I still want to smite myself. But you – you’re getting it full-force. Is he always like this? So. . .” He pauses, shuddering. “So needy? How have you not stabbed yourself in the face by now?”
“Instead of eavesdropping, or singing, why don’t you try devoting some energy to finding a way out of here?”
“You know, I can’t figure you two out,” Lucifer says, disregarding Castiel’s attempted deflection. “If he wants to be touched by an angel so badly, how come he hasn’t shown up to bust you out yet? I mean, say what you want about them, but he and my little Sammy can definitely swing a daring rescue. Especially when there’s only Prince Zeppo out there to deal with,” he adds, jerking his head toward the cell door. “Where’s your boyfriend, Castiel?”
“He’ll be here,” Castiel says softly, before he can stop himself.
“Aww, that was so sweet,” Lucifer says, before grimacing. “I kinda want to puke, actually.”
Castiel rolls his eyes, but before he can reply a commotion down the hall draws his attention.
Lucifer looks out too, backing away from the bars. “Well, speak of the plaid-clad devil.”
Heart leaping to his throat, Castiel scrambles to his feet and moves toward the bars, craning his neck to try and see down the hall. There are raised voices and the sounds of fighting, and then silence.
“Cas!”
Dean’s urgent voice sounds from out of sight, and Castiel can’t help his grin. “Dean, down here!”
Footsteps pound, and then a moment later Dean is there, breathless and beaming through the bars. “Somebody order a jailbreak?”
Lucifer rattles the bars of his cage. “Oh Dean. I knew you’d come,” he simpers.
“Oh, I’m leaving your ass here,” Dean says, barely sparing him a glance.
“Hey!”
Castiel ignores him. “How did you get here?” he asks, staring at Dean in wonder.
“I’m a hell of a guy,” Dean says, winking cheekily. He produces a large iron key and quickly unlocks the door.
Castiel makes to step out, but before he can cross the threshold Dean pushes him backwards – and back and back until he slams against the wall. Castiel doesn’t get out more than a confused and startled gasp, then Dean is crashing his mouth down onto his.
It takes a stunned few seconds, but then Castiel is kissing him back. It doesn’t matter that they’re still trapped in Hell, and demons are likely on their way down, and Lucifer is one cell over and making noises of disgust. Dean Winchester is kissing him. Finally.
Kissing him deeply, in fact, his tongue pushing into Castiel’s mouth and his teeth sinking into his lip. It’s making him dizzy. Castiel lets himself drown in it until Dean starts working a thigh between his legs.
He forces himself to pull away. “Dean, shouldn’t, um –” Dean pushes harder with his thigh, and Castiel sucks in a breath. “Shouldn’t we be getting out of here?”
“C’mon, Cas,” Dean purrs, low and rough. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?” He drags his lips down Castiel’s neck.
Despite himself, Castiel lets his eyes flutter closed. He pushes reason and rational thought away and focuses on the feel of Dean against him. He reaches out with his mind again, hoping to connect with Dean like that too –
His eyes snap open. Something isn’t right. The ever-present longing from Dean hasn’t disappeared, hasn’t changed at all. “Dean?”
Dean leans up and meets his eyes. They’re light and teasing, and behind them there’s. . . nothing.
Castiel’s blood runs cold. “You’re not Dean.”
The air ripples. By the time he’s moved away, Asmodeus looks like himself again. “Now that was fun.”
“What,” Castiel spits, “was the point of that.” He wants to vomit. He wants his blade back.
Asmodeus smirks. “What can I say. I have my hobbies. And you are just so easy.”
Castiel glares with all the fury he can muster.
“I must say though, you caught on quick. Dean still hasn’t.”
Ice grips Castiel’s heart. “What have you done?”
“Nothin’ yet, don’t you worry your pretty little halo,” Asmodeus says. “I’m just keeping him from lookin’ for you. Can’t have those Winchester boys bargin’ in on me. It would ruin all my fun.” He winks, then turns and strides out of the cell. Castiel is still too sickened to move. “See you later, fellas,” he says, then strides back up the hall.
An iron door clanks shut a moment later, and Castiel slumps back against the wall.
Lucifer presses his face into the bars again. “That was. Hilarious.”