HOT WATER
Okay, Veruca's face has scared me into it. And I am on a cough syrup and Midol high so here goes - Rabbit attempts a ficlet for verucasalt123.
Warnings for, I dunno, Destiel love?
"Ow. Ow. Son of a bitch...Cas, what part of 'be gentle'!" do angels not understand?!"
"I am sorry, Dean. The whole concept of 'massage' is foreign to me. And I can't help my vessel being disproportiontely strong. After all, my true form-"
"- Is the size of our goddam Chrysler building, I know, and if you say it once more I swear I'm gonna push you off the top of it."
Cas paused in his clumsy attempts to rub the tension out of Dean's shoulders.
"You know, if you did that to me in my current...status....I wouldn't survive. Fallen angels can't fly." Cas hung his head, his black hair obscuring his face like a childs'.
"Oh. Hey. You know I didn't mean it like..." Dean turned and lifted Cas's face with his hands, the pleasant feel of the angel's permanent stubble on his palms. Cas slowly turned his blue gaze up to meet Dean's hazel one...and smiled. Wickedly.
"My god, Cas...have you been... drinking?" Dean leant his face against the angel's and took a deep breath. Whiskey, definetly. Also, was that..nicotine? "And - SMOKING?"
Cas shrugged like a spoiled kid who knows he's too cute to get into too much trouble. "Maybe. Maybe I've been a bad angel."
Dean had stripped down to a t-shirt and jeans when they'd gone into the motel bathroom - ostensibly so Cas could 'identify any strained muscles under a better light source.' He'd taken off his boots too. Now he matched Cas's defiant expression with one of his own. "Hey, Cas, you know what we do with bad angels in this hotel?" And in a split-second move that was half-hunter reflex and half-crazed lust, Dean had Cas right where he wanted him; under a steaming hot shower and several more steps towards being undressed. The water drenched both men in seconds and the bathroom rapidly filled with steam and laughter as Dean threw the now-saturated trench coat and tie onto the tiles. He stopped to put his forehead against Cas's, to look him directly in the eyes. "Fallen, not-fallen, whatever else you call yourself...I love you and you're mine." Cas leaned down to kiss the handprint on Dean's shoulder and then upwards to kiss his beautiful lips. He replied, simply, "Yes."
Fifteen minutes later a thunderous knocking on the bathroom door was accompanied by Sam's unmistakable bellow; "You guys better not be using up all the hot water again!!"
Warnings for, I dunno, Destiel love?
"Ow. Ow. Son of a bitch...Cas, what part of 'be gentle'!" do angels not understand?!"
"I am sorry, Dean. The whole concept of 'massage' is foreign to me. And I can't help my vessel being disproportiontely strong. After all, my true form-"
"- Is the size of our goddam Chrysler building, I know, and if you say it once more I swear I'm gonna push you off the top of it."
Cas paused in his clumsy attempts to rub the tension out of Dean's shoulders.
"You know, if you did that to me in my current...status....I wouldn't survive. Fallen angels can't fly." Cas hung his head, his black hair obscuring his face like a childs'.
"Oh. Hey. You know I didn't mean it like..." Dean turned and lifted Cas's face with his hands, the pleasant feel of the angel's permanent stubble on his palms. Cas slowly turned his blue gaze up to meet Dean's hazel one...and smiled. Wickedly.
"My god, Cas...have you been... drinking?" Dean leant his face against the angel's and took a deep breath. Whiskey, definetly. Also, was that..nicotine? "And - SMOKING?"
Cas shrugged like a spoiled kid who knows he's too cute to get into too much trouble. "Maybe. Maybe I've been a bad angel."
Dean had stripped down to a t-shirt and jeans when they'd gone into the motel bathroom - ostensibly so Cas could 'identify any strained muscles under a better light source.' He'd taken off his boots too. Now he matched Cas's defiant expression with one of his own. "Hey, Cas, you know what we do with bad angels in this hotel?" And in a split-second move that was half-hunter reflex and half-crazed lust, Dean had Cas right where he wanted him; under a steaming hot shower and several more steps towards being undressed. The water drenched both men in seconds and the bathroom rapidly filled with steam and laughter as Dean threw the now-saturated trench coat and tie onto the tiles. He stopped to put his forehead against Cas's, to look him directly in the eyes. "Fallen, not-fallen, whatever else you call yourself...I love you and you're mine." Cas leaned down to kiss the handprint on Dean's shoulder and then upwards to kiss his beautiful lips. He replied, simply, "Yes."
Fifteen minutes later a thunderous knocking on the bathroom door was accompanied by Sam's unmistakable bellow; "You guys better not be using up all the hot water again!!"