Swap

A temporary witch's curse has the Winchester brothers swapping bodies. It sucks, but they're handling it. As long as they keep their hands to themselves and Dean quit eyeing the damn scissors with that evil gleam in his eye...
Unfortunately for Sam, he discovers something about Dean and Cas. | 13.7K words | Last chapter is really NSFW and is rated RED |

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3. Chapter 2

Swap

Chapter 2

 

He's momentarily relieved at the return of personal space. Until he sees the angel's expression. He audibly gulps, suddenly very sure that's the look people who got freakin' smited (or is it smote, he wonders inanely) saw right before they stopped existing. He unconsciously presses closer to the wall, hands splayed out behind himself, even though he knows he shouldn't; he should probably move closer, try to reengage or reassure Cas, but he can't. That's a look he wants to keep away from, not move closer to.

Sam clears his throat, relieved he sounds somewhat normal when he says "Cas?"

Castiel's head cocks slightly as his eyes narrow. He studies the man across from him, suddenly wary. Anger slowly trickles in as he studies, notices, and catalogs. A little bit of fear comes along, as well. "You aren't Dean."

He studies the man that looks like Dean, noticing more differences that are obvious now that he's looking. Dean is standing all wrong, even without the fearful posture, it's just... off. His facial expressions aren't... right. And the whole 'not trying to reciprocate sex' aspect is very wrong. He's trying to think of explanations; what sorts of creatures and beings can mimic his human? He can't think of many, but he's already sorting through what he knows for solutions and possible weapons.

Sam swallows down a hysterical laugh. That lump of terror is back in his throat and he's trying to swallow it down again, too tense to do much of anything else. He doesn't say anything, doesn't nod or in any way answer Cas' non-question. He blinks and rears back when Cas' previously warm blue eyes go steely—hard and smite-worthy.

Well, shit.

A flick of Cas' wrist and suddenly there's a blade inches from his neck and he feels really fucking stupid he'd forgotten Castiel is a fucking warrior. He knows better. He's heard about what sort of blood its seen. He's even seen the angel use that very blade with deadly precision, numerous times.

Not to mention the fact that Cas, current vengeful Angel of the Lord is ridiculously—profoundly—bound to his brother.

Really, he shouldn't have expected any other reaction from the fierce angel.

"Cas," Sam starts, hands rising imploringly. He really doesn't want what's glinting brightly in Cas' hand imbedded in his person or anywhere near his throat. "It's me—Dean."

He realizes that's the wrong thing to say as soon as he's slammed against the wall, a tan trench coat covered arm slamming across his neck, against his wind-pipe. He makes a choking sound, and wheezes in a breath but doesn't otherwise fight back. He wouldn't be able to do a damn thing, anyway. It feels like he's being pinned by a brick wall or something.

Castiel has a moment of guilt for harming Dean—before he remembers this is Not Dean. He wishes pinning Dean against the wall (normally a very enjoyable activity) isn't happeningnot like this. He's feeling sick with all of the conflicting emotions and he applies a bit more weight and pressure to his forearm. He feels terrible to see Dean's green eyes widen in fear and panic. But he forcefully reminds himself: This. Is. Not. Dean.

"Do not lie to me," he demands in a low growl, leaning in and gazing intently into Not Dean's eyes. All he sees—all he feels—is Dean, though. It's very confusing but he doesn't relent, trusting his instincts screaming 'wrong! Not Dean!' at him. Even pinned, Dean would be trying to touch him, talk to him and let him know things were okay. Or at least fight back, call him an asshole or something for being paranoid. But that doesn't happen and he has to stamp down the urge to increase the pressure again.

Sam tries to swallow, the arm against his throat almost making it nearly impossible and quite painful. "Cas—" He's cut off when Cas growls, the angel's top lip actually lifting up with the feral sound, and applies more pressure, choking him completely this time. He's pretty sure his feet leave the tacky carpet as he sputters and tries to pry the arm away from him, but Cas doesn't budge at all. It's like trying to budge concrete. Tiny, multicolored pin-pricks of light dance across his eyes and he's starting to really panic.

"Who. Are. You?" Castiel grits out, thumping the body against the wall with each word. He's so close to backing away, dropping the imposture and fly off to find the real Deanhis Dean—because it's becoming increasingly difficult to look into those pained, watery and red-rimmed green eyes. He eases up when he realizes 'Dean' is trying to speak.

"Sam! It's me, Sam!" he yells as best he can with his abused throat, so over the cloak and dagger shit. A promise to his brother doesn't trump being choked or smote by a freakin' pissed off, suspicious angel. The pressure against his chest and throat eases off enough for him to breath as Cas looks at him, reluctant and wary, but still intense and scrutinizing. He knows the angel will do anything for his brother and hopefully, right now, that includes listening and halting homicidal rage.

Dean will understand him blabbing. And if not, fuck him; he's never had to face being murdered by a righteously pissed off angel defending his beloved lover.

Castiel leans closer, once again studying Dean. He eases away when there's a flinch, watching the familiar gestures of the younger Winchester as 'Dean' straightens himself out in slow, deliberate increments. There isn't a curtain of hair but he's still being looked at as if there was one shielding cautious green eyes. Dean rubs his hands together nervously, shifting in place, hands half-stuffed into his pockets and giving him a look reminiscent of young Labrador offspring.

It's very disorienting to see Dean performing Sam's mannerisms.

Castiel flushes, stepping back and suddenly embarrassed. "Sam, I'm very sorry." He pauses, trying to figure out if he's sorry for the initial attempt at sex or nearly choking the man. Both seem appropriate things to apologize for. "For... attacking you," he adds, averting his gaze to the strangely colored carpet when he feels his face getting warmer with guilt as well as embarrassment.

Sam nods, sighing quietly with relief that Cas believes him. He rubs at his throat and gives Cas a small smile when the angel finally looks at him, lips pinched and his body language practically dripping with quilt. "It's fine, Cas. You didn't know. And, hey, no permanent damage." He holds his arms up and out to the side, showing that he's relatively unharmed. His arms flop down carelessly and he sighs softly, rolling his eyes when Cas still looks at him with a pained, guilty sort of look. "I get it, okay?" He chuckles, rubbing at his throat and chest, and shakes his head a little. "It's actually reassuring to know you would lay an epic smack-down for Dean."

Which, he knows Cas would've done before, but he can only imagine the carnage that would happen now, no doubt motivated by whatever the hell they've got goin' on.

"Yes, I most definitely would," Castiel agrees solemnly, nodding once. He makes his way over to one of the beds, gaze on Sam as he does. He slowly sits, feeling curiously light-headed and in need of a moment to let his body return to its relatively relaxed state; the past few minutes have left him shaken for a multitude of reasons. It's extremely odd to see Dean's body fidgeting and pacing like Sam is wont to do. He looks away, suddenly saddened for more reasons than just a missed opportunity for an intimate moment with Dean.

He watches as Dean—no, Sam—paces some more, hands twitching upwards occasionally and pushing away hair that isn't there. Finally, he cannot contain his curiosity. "What happened?"

Sam knows exactly what Cas is asking about but he doesn't have many answers. "Witch," he says simply, his face screwed up in a grimace and raising a hand as one shoulder lifts in a shrug. Thankfully, further explanation isn't needed and he relaxes a little more.

"Ah," Castiel says, nodding once. Dean hates witches and he can understand why. He wishes this was an issue he could help with, mostly just for the Winchesters' comfort, but he's had little success with interfering with witches' magic. He nervously tugs at the sleeve of his trench coat, unable to meet Sam's eyes for a few moments. He slowly looks up, nodding meaningfully at Sam, "Is it... permanent?" he asks hesitantly, unsure if he really wants an answer.

Of course he does want an answer; he'd like to know. He's quite sure he'd be able to adjust to Dean being in Sam's body if it is indeed permanent. It's nearly as esthetically pleasing as the one he's used to (if a bit... bigger). It doesn't really matter to him, though; Dean is Dean, regardless of his physical trappings. He would be quite the hypocrite if he developed an issue about such a thing since Dean had been able to overcome the same issue with his vessel.

He averts his gaze to his lap for a few moments, trying not to stare as he usually would when speaking with Dean; he has a feeling that would make Sam even more uncomfortable.

"No," Sam is quick to answer, hands waving around. "No, we're pretty sure it's temporary." He can see Cas relax, shoulders sagging just a little under the trench coat, but he's pretty sure Cas would've made things work if things weren't reversible. He forcefully pushes the idea of Cas getting it on with Dean in his body out of his mind. So not the time for that... "Near as we can figure, the next New Moon we'll swap back."

Castiel nods, relieved nonetheless. That's 34 and a half hours away. He looks at Sam thoughtfully, something occurring to him. "Were you both really going to try keeping this from me?" he asks. He's confused why Sam didn't explain the situation the moment he'd kissed him. He would not have gone further than the initial kiss in greeting if he had known he wasn't with Dean. They would've avoided the violence, as well. His brow furrows, suddenly concerned he's guilty of adultery now. Does that sort of thing count when one thinks he's kissing his beloved and not someone else in his body?

"Yeah," Sam admits with a sheepish shrug. He feels his face heat and looks away, wishing he'd said something the moment Cas cornered him and started making out with him. "We weren't gonna tell anyone." He looks up at Cas, an apologetic look on his face. "I don't think Dean thought that far ahead," he offers, sounding a little hopeful on Cas' behalf that his brother truly hadn't considered the angel in all this. "Oh. And by the way? This is so not the way I wanted to find out about you two." He expects Cas to blush or maybe offer an apology, but instead the angel just shrugs, affecting a casual air as if it's no big thing.

He's kinda annoyed Dean is rubbing off on the angel, especially when it comes to being a smart ass.

Castiel shrugs, even though he's feeling the slightly uncomfortable, heated sting of guilt again. "Dean wished to keep things between us 'on the down low'—" He crooks his fingers, mouth twisted slightly in a wry smile, "Until things... settled."

Sam scoffs. "The way our lives go, that wouldn't ever freakin' happen." He feels bad when Cas' shoulders hunch and the angel looks away again, trying to look unaffected and picking at a ball of fuzz on the cheap comforter. He knows Dean can be a persuasive bastard and he can tell that works even on Cas, at least when it comes to this sort of thing (but props to his brother for managing to manipulate an angel of the lord, though). He knows this is all Dean, Cas only going along with his brother's wishes. The dick. He frowns, unsure why Cas would agree to something like that; surely the angel isn't okay with essentially being treated like a dirty little secret?

He's tempted to punch his thigh so Dean has a nice bruise to remember him by. He sighs when he notices Cas staring at him again, eyes slightly wide, hands flat on the bed and his fingers splayed out on the comforter. He's not able to figure out the angel's expression other than Cas waiting for his reaction... "It's cool, Cas. I'm not mad or anything. Or really all that surprised," Sam adds with a small smile.

Okay, yeah, he'd feel better if he hadn't first hand knowledge that his brother gets inappropriately touched by an angel but other than that, he's not all that shocked. Or bothered. He's actually kinda proud of Dean for manning up enough to admit to his more-than-just-friends feelings for Cas. Even if it was only to himself and the angel. Baby-steps and all that jazz.

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