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Dean was urged into the room by the unmistakeable sound of something very old and very expensive crashing to the floor and of some irreplaceable hand-crafted furniture giving out under the force of god-only-knows what.
He rounded the corner as he heard two similar grunts, clocking the evenly matched hands scrabbling for dominance. Cas fight.
Cas, his Cas, was on top, eyes righteous as he tried to press his AU counterpart’s shoulder into the floor. Dean could tell for lots of reasons, the wild hair and the rumpled borrowed T-shirt, and of course the tell-tale lovebite showing just above the collar. (Dean made a joke at the time about it being their version of dropping some nail polish on the back of a turtle shell to tell it apart from its brothers. Cas didn’t laugh.)
“I simply thought we were in agreement,” the other Cas sneered in that what-the-fuck-even-is-that-accent-man accent.
“You thought wrong,” Cas deadpanned, straightening out the pinning arm and jabbing his other arm precisely into a spot on Other!Cas’ rib cage that Dean knew (from his experience with his own model) was a pretty devastating spot.
“Ngh,” the alterna-Cas grit his teeth and squared his feet against the floor, clearly bothered. His coat and waistcoat had been wrestled open, the remainder of his layers starting to become a bit rumpled as they fought. “You dohon’t get to hide in your head from me, Castiel.”
He let out a shaky breath as the two held eye contact in a very epic showdown of baby blues. Dean would be lying if this weren’t one of his top 3 or 4 fantasies that started to trickle in once they brought Cas: Part 2, The Revenge home with them.
He’s only human after all.
They held that look for a beat longer, chests heaving either from the intensity of it all or the warding around the bunker
“Besides,” Other Cas looked away first, sizing up Dean from his place in the doorway and flipping his counterpart like it was an afterthought, pinning his wrists under his legs to ensure a bit less movement. “We’ve got an audience now anyway.”
There was something he was missing from this whole conversation, but Dean couldn’t put two and two together while also focusing on keeping his jaw from falling slack at the display before him.
“And you know, your time with these apes — it has made you a bit softer,” he accompanied that jab with pointed pokes at Cas’ stomach that had him writhing, Cas & Furious: Tokyo Drift was mean.
Cas, his Cas, has the most adorable condition of only getting more ticklish the more riled up he gets. Dean had yet to see whether his Evil Twin had a similar situation going for (or against) him, but poor Cas was shaking his head back and forth, shoulders shaking helplessly as his ribcage and stomach and, oh crap his upper thighs, got thoroughly wrecked. His cheeks start to get red (a whole system kinda a mystery to Dean considering how breathing and blood aren’t priorities for angel vessels) and the laughter loses any semblance of control before Dean can just tell that something was about to happen.
He ducks just in time, hands over his ears, for the three lightbulbs in the room to shatter as the high pitched Angel Dog Whistle Scream ripped through the room, knocking AU Cas off his feet and off Cas’ not-yet-but-close-to boneless body.
“I’ve made up for any softness with,” he swung his leg out, sweeping other Cas’ legs out from under him and going hard, with both hands digging intensely into his thighs and knees, ”an ability to wing it. If nothing else.”
Other Cas shares a great deal of the same weaknesses, apparently, and Dean could see in this one’s face (albeit, without some of the battle scars and telltale smile lines) that he might not be able to take nearly as much as he gives.
“I wonder, thohohough,” he took a deep breath, more to prioritize getting the words out. “Why wouldn’t we experiment with that little idea of yours?”
“Choose your next words carefully,” Cas poised his hands over their targets again, eyes trained carefully (but not nearly as cold as they’d been before) looking back up at Dean briefly.
“I just wonder if your skillset and experience, uhh, lends itself to a more efficient line of attack than my own.”
Cas’ head tilted for a minute, his adorable slow puppy face taking on a much more dangerous look.
“It might be best for us to assess.” He said with a wink, standing up and helping his clone do the same.
It wasn’t ‘til he was flanked by his angel and the not-quite-right copy that Dean’s brain shouted “four.”
But by then it was pretty much too late.