okay i'm trying to discreetly post this in the middle of a computer lab at the school so hopefully nobody looks over my shoulder... also while i was writing this i kept thinking of that line in titanic where rose is like "i want you to draw me like one of your french girls" and laughing and my roommate kept giving me strange looks so yeah, hahaha, but hopefully it isn't as cracky as all that. also this is the first bit of d/c i've written for this round of 5 acts, so weird.
Dean finds Castiel’s apartment in the classified ads. He thinks he might be getting a little bit old for a roommate, but it’s either live with a roommate or keep living in the craphole with the vermin in the walls where he’s spent the past two years. Castiel’s apartment has two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and it’s nearly ten miles closer to Dean’s job at the fire station. And apart from the weird name, Castiel’s actually an okay guy.
The first time Dean meets him, Castiel is covered from paint, pretty much head to toe. The tips of his dark, messy hair are blue and green, and Dean can’t tell if it’s hair dye or just more paint (it’s a little of both, Dean figures out later). He’s quiet and irritable and has an earring that Dean thinks looks incredibly stupid and doesn’t seem to ever clean up any of the art supplies that litter the floor and tables of every room in the apartment.
There are only two things about Castiel that really frustrate Dean — one is his penchant for painting while only partially clothed, revealing a thin and wiry but attractive body and, just above his loose sweatpants, sharp hipbones that Dean can’t help but imagine running his hands over.
The other is Castiel’s constant requests that Dean act as a model for his sketches and paintings. Although Castiel asked him once, Dean refuses to pose nude for his roommate, afraid that his body will have a reaction to Castiel’s particularly close proximity that he won’t be able to hide without his pants, but apart from that Castiel has talked him into any number of ridiculous costumes and poses. Lately, Castiel has been working on a series of pieces revolving around the texture of fabrics, so Dean has been dressed in silk shirts and leather pants and corduroy jackets and Castiel has drawn the way they drape or fit on his body.
Dean is far from unaware that he’s hot, and he knows he has a good body, but he still feels a little embarrassed by the way Castiel scrutinizes him while he’s working on a new piece. And when Castiel shows him the next article of clothing he intends to draw, Dean decides it’s time to stop acting as his roommate’s model.
Castiel looks hurt when Dean tells him. “But I’ve only got two more pieces for this set,” he says. “I’ve got a gallery showing in a month and I’ve got to get them finished.”
“I know, Cas,” Dean says, looking at the wad of fabric in Castiel’s clenched fist, “but that’s a dress.”
“It’s more of a tunic,” Castiel says. “It’s just… the last one’s sort of like a toga, so it connects everything. You see?” he asks hopefully, holding out the fabric. Dean just stares at him. “I can’t get a different model now, Dean, I have to have continuity or the whole set makes no sense.” Dean doesn’t know much about art apart from what Castiel has told him and what his brother Sam yammered on about to him when he took an art history class once in college, but Dean figures he must be right. He makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and then snatches the fabric out of Castiel’s hand and walks back into his own bedroom to change.
Whatever Castiel says, when Dean pulls on the clothing he decides it’s definitely a dress, not a tunic. It’s tight and short and Dean knows it has to be women’s clothing. For a second, he considers just changing back into his jeans and t-shirt and telling Castiel he’ll have to find someone else, but finally he just sighs and opens the door. Castiel is standing there waiting for him, and when Dean steps out, he nods and walks back into his room. Dean follows.
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Supernatural: Dean/Castiel; AU, attention, crossdressing (NC-17)
Date: 2011-01-14 11:54 am (UTC)Dean finds Castiel’s apartment in the classified ads. He thinks he might be getting a little bit old for a roommate, but it’s either live with a roommate or keep living in the craphole with the vermin in the walls where he’s spent the past two years. Castiel’s apartment has two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and it’s nearly ten miles closer to Dean’s job at the fire station. And apart from the weird name, Castiel’s actually an okay guy.
The first time Dean meets him, Castiel is covered from paint, pretty much head to toe. The tips of his dark, messy hair are blue and green, and Dean can’t tell if it’s hair dye or just more paint (it’s a little of both, Dean figures out later). He’s quiet and irritable and has an earring that Dean thinks looks incredibly stupid and doesn’t seem to ever clean up any of the art supplies that litter the floor and tables of every room in the apartment.
There are only two things about Castiel that really frustrate Dean — one is his penchant for painting while only partially clothed, revealing a thin and wiry but attractive body and, just above his loose sweatpants, sharp hipbones that Dean can’t help but imagine running his hands over.
The other is Castiel’s constant requests that Dean act as a model for his sketches and paintings. Although Castiel asked him once, Dean refuses to pose nude for his roommate, afraid that his body will have a reaction to Castiel’s particularly close proximity that he won’t be able to hide without his pants, but apart from that Castiel has talked him into any number of ridiculous costumes and poses. Lately, Castiel has been working on a series of pieces revolving around the texture of fabrics, so Dean has been dressed in silk shirts and leather pants and corduroy jackets and Castiel has drawn the way they drape or fit on his body.
Dean is far from unaware that he’s hot, and he knows he has a good body, but he still feels a little embarrassed by the way Castiel scrutinizes him while he’s working on a new piece. And when Castiel shows him the next article of clothing he intends to draw, Dean decides it’s time to stop acting as his roommate’s model.
Castiel looks hurt when Dean tells him. “But I’ve only got two more pieces for this set,” he says. “I’ve got a gallery showing in a month and I’ve got to get them finished.”
“I know, Cas,” Dean says, looking at the wad of fabric in Castiel’s clenched fist, “but that’s a dress.”
“It’s more of a tunic,” Castiel says. “It’s just… the last one’s sort of like a toga, so it connects everything. You see?” he asks hopefully, holding out the fabric. Dean just stares at him. “I can’t get a different model now, Dean, I have to have continuity or the whole set makes no sense.” Dean doesn’t know much about art apart from what Castiel has told him and what his brother Sam yammered on about to him when he took an art history class once in college, but Dean figures he must be right. He makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and then snatches the fabric out of Castiel’s hand and walks back into his own bedroom to change.
Whatever Castiel says, when Dean pulls on the clothing he decides it’s definitely a dress, not a tunic. It’s tight and short and Dean knows it has to be women’s clothing. For a second, he considers just changing back into his jeans and t-shirt and telling Castiel he’ll have to find someone else, but finally he just sighs and opens the door. Castiel is standing there waiting for him, and when Dean steps out, he nods and walks back into his room. Dean follows.