"Dean, what are you doing?"
"Thought this could cheer you up," Dean responded to the former angel sat on the couch.
He had spent the morning out in town buying the game and red, yellow, green and blue tins of paint. Cas had narrowed his eyes at the items and remembered when he had asked to play this before their trip to Purgatory.
"I fail to see how this could cheer me up, Dean."
Cas heard the hunter sigh as he carefully tipped the paint tins into their matching coloured circles on the mat. The whole task was done very precisely, even if some of the circles of paint overlapped into each other, and Dean stood admiring his work with a proud smile.
"C'mon, Cas," he grinned, removing his shirt so he was stood in bare feet, jeans and a plain grey t-shirt.
The man sighed before standing up from the couch and removing one of Dean's old jackets that he had on so he was left also in bare feet, a washed out old pair of Dean's jeans and an old t-shirt. Cas really didn't know what Dean was trying to accomplish doing this but he would play along nonetheless.
The both stood before the mat until Dean span the dial and announced, "Left foot, yellow." He moved and obeyed, sinking his foot into the yellow paint. Dean scrunched up his face at first, then smiled and wiggled his toes around. "Your go," he said, still grinning down at his foot in the yellow paint, pointing on the spinner.
Cas spun it. "Right hand, blue." So he crossed over and placed his hand down into the sticky blue paint. Almost mirroring how Dean had reacted, he hesitated at first and then spread his fingers and moved them around with a faint smile on his face.
More actions came: right hand, green for Dean then left hand, red for Cas. Left hand, blue for Dean, left foot, yellow for Cas until the pair of them were tangled but neither wanted to slip and fall. The paint now covered their palms and the soles of their feet. Through more and more manoeuvres, red paint had smeared on Dean's cheek with spots of green and yellow over his jeans and t-shirt with blue on his back. Cas had green stretching from his cheekbone down across his lips to his chin and blue and red all over his own jeans.
"You okay, Cas?" Dean smirked, knowing the other man was concentrating as hard as he could on not slipping.
Cas only nodded, focussing on the next switch in position. It was tricky and his palms kept sliding in their assigned circles. The paint was now mixing into other circles creating new colours but they kept at it until Dean realised the position they were in. He was hovering over Cas with his right hand in a green circle and his left in a blue one. Cas was underneath him in a crab-like position with his hands on red and yellow spots and his feet on blue and green.
Dean span the dial again. "Right hand, yellow." Carefully, he removed his hand from the green then, slowly and deliberately, slid it needlessly down Cas' thigh and then in the yellow spot underneath him.
Then he saw the glint in Cas' eye, almost like realisation, and his mouth quirked up at one corner.
"Your turn," Dean said, innocently.
Cas knocked the spinner. "Left hand, green." So Cas pulled his hand from the yellow circle, dragged it down Dean's inner thigh and then pushed it into the green.
This took Dean completely by surprise and he ran his tongue over his lips then bit down slightly trying to think of something else. Cas saw this and continued to stare at Dean until he opened his eyes again.
"I believe it is your turn, Dean."
"Right," he said, disguising the slight break in his voice. "Left hand, red."
Trying to one-up Cas either worked and the former angel was just good at hiding it or had no effect on him at all as Dean picked his hand out of the blue spot, ran it down the curve of Cas' back and then over his ass, and into the red. He swirled his hand around the paint and then looked back up at Cas who had a completely blank expression. Damn, Dean thought. Wait until next time.
Unfortunately, it was almost as if Cas had read his mind because his next turn crossed an invisible line, that Dean thought had always existed, and there was no turning back.
"Right hand, blue," Cas muttered, still concentrating on not falling. Or so Dean thought. Cas adjusted himself up with his left arm, placed a light kiss on Dean's neck but, before his other hand could reach the blue spot, Dean lost his balance and collapsed on Cas. Paint splashed out at all angles and there were smudges of red, yellow, green and blue all over them. A smear of blue over Dean's forehead and some red and yellow down his arms. Cas had landed underneath Dean on his back, his t-shirt coming up at the sides and paint landing against his hips.
"I think this means that I win, Dean," Cas stated with a smile.
"Yeah... yeah, Cas, you win," Dean nodded, still pressed against Cas, the paint on their chests sticking together. He chuckled under his breath before he remembered what Cas had done to win. "I think you cheated."
"We're not playing the game anymore, Dean. Do we need to play this every time to do that?"
Dean chuckled again. "No, Cas." Then, placing his yellow right hand on Cas' neck, he moved in and pressed his lips on his. He could taste the green paint on his lips but he couldn't care less. Cas ran his tongue over Dean's lips and his hands were painting patterns over his waist. Dean then felt a hand snake up his arm and press against his shoulder and, when he looked, a large red handprint stood out against the array of colours. He smiled down at Cas who now looked puzzled.
"What was the purpose of this?" he asked.
"Did it cheer you up?"
Cas looked up at Dean, whose thumb was still stroking lightly down his neck. "Yes."
Dean grinned. "That was the purpose."
"Thank you, Dean."
"Hey, it's no problem. This was fun."
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I need a shower."
"I could do that."