Chuck stands outside Cas's cabin, listening at the doorway. He can't hear any female voices, girlish giggles or lusty moans, but he's still cautious. One too many times he'd assumed the place was empty and seen... things... had left him wary of barging in unannounced. There's no way to knock, though, so he just shakes a few strands of beads, letting the echoing rattle announce him.
He walks in.
Cas is alone, thank god, but if the near-empty glass bottle sitting by his bedside is anything to go on, Chuck still probably doesn't want to interrupt. He needs to double check something in his inventory, though, and Dean's off on a raid. So he coughs, loudly, and waits for Cas to notice him.
It takes a minute. Cas doesn't bother to sit up, just tilts and turns until his neck is at an uncomfortable-looking angle, but one where he can see Chuck standing in the doorway.
"Hey, prophet," he says with a too-wide grin. He fumbles for the bottle, nearly knocking it over, and holds it out. "Want some?"
Chuck's stomach twists. "No thanks," he mutters, turning to leave. The inventory can wait a few hours.
"You don't know what you're missing," Cas calls after him.
And thank god for that.
Chuck Shurley
Supernatural
204 words