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Dean tapped his fingers on Baby’s steering wheel in time with the music as the miles rolled by under the tires. Sam was asleep in the passenger seat, tuckered out from all that research on what could cause a bunch of PTA moms to suddenly go all Hunger Games on each other.
Always listening for it, Dean caught the faint sound of wings over the song and he looked in the rearview mirror to see Cas in the backseat.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Heya, buddy, what’s up?”
Castiel looked up at the roof of the car, then squinted at Dean. He must have decided Dean wasn’t being literal; he was getting better at that every day.
“It’s not a demon.”
Ok, right to the point, apparently, Dean thought. Busy angel with important angel business, no time for chitchat with a little ole human.
“Your face is a demon,” Dean muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing, thanks, Cas.”
~~~~
Sam and Dean staggered into the motel room, holding each other up. They were both covered in blood, some of it theirs, and they smelled like smoke.
“Hello, Dean. Sam.”
Castiel, always so pristine, stood at the foot of one of the beds, staring at the pair. Dean stared back, expectantly, Sammy getting heavier and heavier as they waited for the angel to speak.
“Heya, Cas,” Sam mumbled. The hand that wasn’t around Dean’s shoulder was clutching his side.
“You look like a mess,” the angel said, flatly.
“Yeah, well. Your mom looks like a mess, Cas,” Dean snarked back and shouldered the angel out of the way so he could drop Sam on the bed and disappear into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
~~~~
“Dammit, Cas, no, you can’t go in there! This thing eats magic.” Dean’s face was inches from Castiel’s, staring into those deep, dark eyes and Dean felt like he could get lost.
Cas growled back, “I’m an angel, Dean, I’m not ‘magic’. I’m celestial.”
“I’m not letting you in there.” The hunter grabbed Castiel’s arm as if he could do anything to prevent the grumpy bastard from doing whatever he wanted.
Cas stared down at the offending touch and then turned his glare back to Dean’s face. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m rubber, you’re glue! You’re being ridiculous!”
And then Cas was gone.
~~~~
It was movie night at chez Winchester and Dean’s turn to pick (since Sam was gone and couldn’t use his bitchface or puppy dog eyes to sway the vote) so they were watching Dune. Not the Sting one, the new one.
Castiel was sitting too close, as usual, even though it was just the two of them on the big leather couch. Every time Dean lifted his beer to take a sip, his arm brushed the angel’s trench coat. He was almost finished with his bottle almost before the movie got started.
Not that he was paying much attention to the movie. He’d put the popcorn on Cas’s lap so he could sprawl out a bit and he kept thinking about the press of his thigh against Castiel’s.
The first glimpse of the desert world of Arrakis reminded Dean of a chupacabra hunt a few years ago. “Damn, Cas, what do you think?”
The angel considered the screen very seriously before answering, “I think it looks hot.”
It had become a habit over the last few weeks. Just a silly, stupid habit and Dean didn’t even know what he was saying until it was out of his mouth.
“I know you are but what am I?”
Until Castiel violently started and turned to stare at Dean.
Oh, shit. “Um. I mean-” Dean’s face felt like it was about to burst into flame, but he met Cas’s eyes.
The angel looked stunned, then disappointed and he looked down at the bowl in his lap. “That’s just another one of those childish retorts. Like my face. And my mom.”
Dean swallowed hard. “Well. It was supposed to be. But, um.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But it’s true.”
And Dean got the full brunt of those gorgeous peepers back as Cas said, “Oh. You are also very ‘hot’, Dean.” Complete with quote fingers, Jesus, what was he going to do with this guy?
“You don’t have to just say that, Cas. It’s fine.”
They just looked at each other and Dean tried to tell what Castiel was thinking but he had his angel face on, that little head tilt going as he stared. Then the angel nodded as if he’d made a decision.
“You believe actions more than words.” Cas carefully set the popcorn bowl on the coffee table and then in one smooth move straddled Dean’s legs so he was practically sitting in the hunter’s lap. Castiel’s hand cupped Dean’s cheek as his eyes roamed over his face, studying him like he had a test tomorrow. Dean felt…cherished.
“Wha-?” Dean started and then Castiel’s lips were on his, dry but soft, just a brush, a test to see what Dean would do. Dean lifted his head, chasing that touch of lips to lips, his hands finding their way to Cas’s hips and tugging him closer.
Cas hummed happily and suddenly his mouth was all heat and hunger, his tongue driving deep, his teeth nipping and scraping over lips, his hands still tender, so goddamn tender on Dean's face.