"Don't forget the pie!" Dean yelled at the door as it swung shut, "or I swear to…" He stopped himself, his eyes involuntarily swinging up towards the ceiling of the now vacant motel room. It, like most, was covered in white tile, with brown stains of water moisture leaking through. "Sorry man," he muttered, trying his hardest no to offend the man upstairs – he already had his fair share of Hell and no way was he risking going back.
Dean's eyes swung around the room, searching for the remote to the television. It was lying on the bedside table, pointed towards the door. His eyes lit up and he stepped over to grab it.
"Hello Dean."
Dean jumped, his knee hitting the table as he heard the familiar voice. He spun around. "Damn it, Cas!" He yelled, shooting the angel a glare. "I told you not to do that."
The angel stood in the same ratty trench coat he had worn since the first time they had met. His brown hair, unruly as always, was striking against the worn and faded wallpaper decorating the room.
"How else do you expect me to get here?" Cas asked, staring at Dean with a look of confusion on his face.
"I don't know, couldn't you like…" Dean threw up his hands in frustration. "Teleport outside the door and knock, like a normal person?" He scoffed at the word normal. As if anything in his life had ever been that way.
Castiel, had he known how to roll his eyes, would have. Instead he stared and said, "People might see me."
Dean shot another furious glare at Cas, but he had already forgiven the angel. How could he not? Cas stood tall and imposing, yet had the aura of a lost puppy. His eyes were bright with life and his lip curled up whenever he concentrated too hard. He was the epitome of perfection…
Shaking his head, Dean flipped on the television and sat down on the bed. "What do you want, Cas?" He scrolled through the channel list, seeing nothing he liked except Doctor Sexy MD, but he'd have to save that for later. He settled on the Discovery channel.
"I want out," Castiel said simply, seating himself beside Dean on the bed.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Castiel's face took on a look of yearning. "Out of Heaven, Dean. It is in an uproar now, and who knows how long that will last. It could be centuries."
"Nothing new about that," Dean muttered, pulling off his boots and tossing them on the floor.
His angel looked at him sharply and said, "Despite what you may think, the angels usually operate to better humanity."
Dean could think of a couple things that this particular angel could do to better his view on humanity. Thrusting the thought from his head, he asked, "So what are you doing here then?"
Castiel shrugged. "I don't know. I just had a feeling to come here." He looked at Dean, the corner of his mouth turning upwards a bit. "You have a way of making me forget my problems." As if he realized what he was saying, Cas frowned and looked away.
They were both silent for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts. Dean had the urge to reach out and touch Castiel, but he clenched his fists under his arms in an attempt to restrain himself. Unbeknownst to him, Castiel was having the same feeling.
At the same moment they both looked up; their eyes locked. In a heat of passion that Dean hadn't known he possessed, he reached upwards and twined his fingers into Castiel's hair, pulling him closer. Their lips touched and his entire body was on fire. He could feel the kiss in his toes, his fingers, and other parts of him that had lain dormant.
"This is so wrong," Dean breathed as he came up for air. "But I can't stop." His heart was pounding against his chest, his flesh covered with a thin sheen of sweat. No woman before had had this kind of effect on him.
Dean and Cas were caught up in each other, blocking out the rest of the world. It came as a surprise when a voice boomed, "Dean? What the hell?"
They froze and Dean shut his eyes, already knowing whose voice it was. As blood rushed into his cheeks, he turned around to Sammy standing in the door, clutching a grocery bag.
"Oh crap," Dean breathed and with a blink, Castiel disappeared.
