A/N: So, after talking to the lovely Stelesandwands, I was convinced to write up a little something something for you guys while you're waiting for the next story.
Speaking of which, there's a release date for it now: 14th May! I know it's not as soon as you might have hoped, and I don't even know how much of the plot I'll have written down, but I promise I'll give you at least three chapters! That way you'll know what the story's about and whether you like the idea or not.
This drabble was very fun to write! I'm quite happy with how it turned out :)
Markered Territory
Once again, Castiel and Dean found themselves lazing around on Dean's bed. The only difference was that this time, Cas had no shirt on (which suited Dean perfectly). Just a mere fifteen minutes ago, Castiel got beer sloshed down his entire front- it's a long story. After being denied one of his boyfriend's spare tees (Dean's shitty excuse being, "All my shirts are in the laundry."), Castiel had to settle for somewhat soggy trousers and no shirt. Dean also tried to coax him into his boxers, but Castiel drew the line at that one.
Curled into Dean's chest, Castiel read Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Eve aloud even though he was aware that Dean wasn't actually paying attention. The Winchester only ever asked him to read aloud because he liked the sound of his voice (Dean never actually admitted this, but Castiel wasn't an idiot and could easily put two and two together). Dean softly trailed his fingers up and down Cas' bare arm, making the latter very sleepy. He'd find himself accidentally rereading the same sentences (Dean didn't notice, of course).
Suddenly, Dean's delightful touch was gone and he reached over at the night stand, causing Castiel to drop face-first into the mattress.
"Dean, what are you doing?" Castiel asked as he watched the Winchester rattle through the drawer.
"You know if I got a marker in here?" came the baffling reply.
"Yes, there's a black one somewhere to the left," Cas answered.
"S'it permanent?"
"No, I don't think so."
Dean straightened up again and turned to his boyfriend. He took the book out of Cas' hands, flipped it shut and placed it carefully beside him. Then he said, "Lie down."
"Dean-"
Dean ignored him. He pushed Cas back onto the mattress and crawled closer, his forearms resting on the other's torso. After popping the lid off the marker, he quickly got to work. The tip of the marker tickled like hell, and Castiel found it very hard to lie still.
"Stop squirming," Dean rebuked. "I'm gonna mess up."
"I'm sorry. Let me draw on you, and we'll see how you take it," Castiel returned playfully. He brought his head to his chest in hopes of seeing just what Dean was doing. "Oh, my God. Dean."
The latter simply replied with a shush.
Across Castiel's chest, in Dean's barely legible writing, was scrawled: Property of Dean Winchester- if lost, call...
"Dean Winchester, you are a child." Castiel sighed.
"Stop squirming!"
"I can't!"
Dean had finished drawing a- quite frankly, horrible- sun around Castiel's belly button and moved up to his arm. Once again, he established his ownership over the Novak on his bicep and made his way to the collarbone. He drew a large X and wrote underneath it, Kiss here. Castiel flushed bright red as he watched his five-year-old of a boyfriend place another black X with the words And here right over his shoulder. In a matter of minutes, Castiel's entire upper body was peppered in crosses, each a different size (according to how much Cas likes being kissed there) and each bearing a different message. They stretched all the way from his neck to his ribs and ended at his hip bones. Dean pulled back a little to admire his handiwork.
"All right, turn over. I wanna do your back," he finally announced after a moment of silence.
"No," Castiel replied firmly. With that, he shoved Dean into the pillows and flipped his legs over the bed.
"Where are you going?" Dean wanted to know.
"To take a shower," Castiel replied.
Castiel stepped into the bathroom and Dean sighed in content, placing the lid back on the marker and setting it back in the drawer.
"Dean?" Cas called, his head peaking from behind the door.
"Yeah, Cas?" Dean responded.
"You do realize you missed one spot," Cas informed him.
"Oh, yeah?" Dean sat up a little, a bemused grin settling on his lips. "Where?"
Cas pointed to his lips and smiled cheekily before locking the door behind him.