Title: Conversations With My Body
Author: vaderina
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Clinically explained, accidental masturbation?
Word Count: 1376
Summary: After Dean tells Castiel to go and take a look at himself, the angel returns to report his findings. Dean really wishes he hadn't.


Dean was angry. No, scratch that, not angry, way beyond that. He was fuming. And the cause of his irk was standing, staring unblinking at him with large blue eyes. Smug, self righteous, angelic bastard.

 "Will you just listen to yourself?" Dean barked. "All this shit about dignity? Self preservation?"

 "Dean if you would just..."

 "Blah blah nyeh nyeh blah blah blah. Whatever." Dean cut in before Castiel could get into to swing of things and rattle off his well rehearsed spiel. "You are one to talk. Have you even looked at yourself?"

 Castiel's mouth closeed as he looked down his body. With a final glance up at his charge, he disappeared.

 "Finally." Dean muttered and he threw his phone on his bed with force greater than strictly necessary.

 The angel didn't return until the next day when Dean was alone in the room.

 "Hello Dean."

 Dean jumped as he turned. "Don't do that!" he growled. "What do you want?"

 "I had a look at myself." Castiel said in his usual flat, serious tone.

 Dean fixed him with a level stare, a cross between disbelief and astonishment. "And?"

 Castiel tilted his head a little. "Well, most of it was rather unresponsive."

 Dean continued to stare. "Riiiight..." he said eventually with a slow nod. "What exactly do you mean by this?"

 "I had a look at myself, as you suggested last night. This vessel, my body. Most of it was not responsive."

 "What...what exactly do you mean?"

 "Most of the limbs respond to my will, I want to move a hand it moves. None really have a mind of their own, and you cannot carry out a conversation with them either."

 Dean blinked a few times. "Well yes, you only have one brain so you can't exactly talk to yourself. Unless you are crazy."

 Castiel blinked back at him. "But I did. Not strictly verbal, but a conversation none the less."

 "Were you in front of a mirror?"

 "Yes." Lifting a hand to cover his eyes, Dean took a few moments to collect himself. Castiel however took this as a sign to go on. "I was standing in front of a mirror in just my vessel. No clothes. And I was looking at it. I found that the soles of my feet and sides feel funny when I touch them."

 Dean peeked through his fingers at the angel, silently begging him to stop. But he had no such luck. "And under my arms. But those were rather hard to stimulate as I couldn't reach them without contorting into what could be considered a rather uncomfortable position."

 Incredulous, Dean continued to stare at the angel in mute horror.

 "Carrying on my explorations, I got to a rather soft fleshy appendage of about 6 inches long which did in fact seem to have a mind of its own and could respond to both verbal and telepathic communications. I believe you call it the penis."

 Dean choked at that point, turning a brilliant shade of red and waved his arms round to stop the angel. Castiel however seemed to be intent on finishing his account. "It was rather hard to start our conversation at first. I believe it was asleep. Though I did try to look it in the eye, it didn't seem too keen in the beginning. Also, it had rather selective hearing. It would only respond to certain topics. Is this the case for all of humanity?"

 "Cas, I really don't need to know okay? Just, I'm glad you could talk to your...uh...genitalia in such a way, but please don't tell me!" Dean begged.

 "But you do it too. Though you seem to have a reversed role as you only give out affirmative noises while your penis appears to make all the suggestions."

 "I...no...Cas, no!" the shade of red turned deeper and spread to the tips of his ears.

 "But I've seen you do it. And Sam says you think too much with your cock anyway." Castiel happily supplied. The embarrassment combined with the angel saying 'cock' without any inflection of tone was enough to send Dean into another choking fit. When it subsided, Castiel was still there, staring at him.

 "Mine could only nod." he announced mournfully. "Do you think I'm doing something wrong? Maybe I'm not polite enough? Perhaps I should give it a name? I know you call yours Little Dean, but I think Jimmy would suit mine better. In honour of my host. Do you think that's where he goes when I occupy this body? You seem to have a very eloquent relationship with your body, perhaps you could teach me how to do so too." The last part was added with a hint of wistful hope which, despite the absurdity of the situation, even Dean had to find strange coming from the normally placid angel.

 "No Cas, I won't teach you." Dean was desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject but his mind had deserted him. Castiel's shoulders slumped as he started at the ground. Then, with renewed hope he looked directly at Dean.

 "Maybe if I tell you what I did, you could show me the correct etiquette? Then you won't have to show me." Dean just shook his head, struck silent once more. Castiel carried on regardless. "It didn't want to discuss the apocalypse, Lucifer, my brothers, sisters or Sam. Or my father for that matter. However, when I asked if it wanted to talk about you, it gave a jerk which I took to be agreement. Like the nod of a head. And it did seem to respond better to more gentle encouragement...such as stroking."

 Dean's face fell at that and felt dirty immediately.

 "I stuck to yes or no questions after that. We very quickly established that you are in fact naughty, should be more submissive and deserve some form of punishment. The more I talked to my penis, the angrier it seemed to get "“ was that because I was angry with you too? - swelling up and getting redder, standing more to attention. It reminded me of you. When you get angry, you go red and puff out your chest while pulling yourself to full height. You slouch otherwise Dean." Castiel fixed Dean with an earnest look. Dean could not meet his eyes and had his face buried in his hands.

 "After a while, my penis and I seemed to come to the conclusion that even though you need punishment, you only understand two languages. And English isn't one of them. My penis agreed because when I suggested sitting you down for a long talk, it seemed to droop a little. But when I suggested tying you down, it jerked again and stood fully erect and at attention again. Though it did lean a little to one side. Like when you get drunk, you can't stand straight. I think that must have been the problem for my penis too. But how did it get drunk?" Castiel furrowed his brow at this musing while Dean silently begged the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

 "Yes, my penis must have been drunk. Because, you see, we agreed that you only understand sex and violence. Because I don't know enough about sex, we agree that mild violence is the only way. I don't want to hurt you too much, but enough for you to take my point in and for you to show me some respect. So when I suggested that I tie you down and then spank you, my penis spat out some fluid. I think it had too much alcohol and threw up. But then it went all soft, nodded a few more times when I asked if I should come and see you now then went to sleep. No matter how much I prodded it or tried to look in its eye, it didn't respond. Does your penis sleep with its eye open? You also sleep after throwing up drunk and then are almost impossible to wake up. I think you have a lot in common with my penis though you don't sleep with your eyes open. Maybe you would like to talk to my penis? I'm sure you'd get along."