It always starts with a dream, doesn't it? Dean's unconscious mind drags him to a cold, open field. Castiel's shrouded figure looms entirely too far away for the hunter's liking, who instinctively takes a cautious step to close the distance. A few more steps, icy blue meeting deep emerald irises. Confusion and frustration swirl wildly within both men's orbs, as the gap between them renews itself. Four more strides forward, and the angel isn't any closer than he was before. This infuriating dance continues until Dean can't remember why he wants to get closer, he just knows that it pisses him off that he can't.
Hours later, a livid Dean wakes to the familiar sound of snoring coming from Sam's bed. Finally, something that makes sense. A quick glimpse at his phone reveals that it's 6 in the friggin' morning, earning a defiant groan from the older Winchester. He's glad that damn dream is over, but his mind couldn't even allow him at least 4 hours of sleep?
Trudging his way through a half-assed morning routine, he's vaguely aware that the dream is lingering. The frustration is still wound tightly in his gut, and he still wants to kill something to alleviate it. With an expert flick of his wrist, Dean sends a neatly folded newspaper crashing into the wall above his brother's head, effectively waking him with a startled gasp.
"Rise and shine, Sammy!" He grins, half of a cheap bagel hanging out of his mouth.
"Dude, what the hell?!" The younger Winchester's voice is laced with sleep, but he's awake enough to send his brother a deadly glare. Or, as Dean likes to call it, Bitchface #563.
"I don't know about you, but I'm ready to start another job." Dean doesn't know why, but he always becomes morning-person-Dean when Sam is involved. Nothing says, 'of course I'm alright Sammy, why wouldn't I be?' like fake enthusiasm and deflection. Two things Dean's a fucking master of. Sam sighs in response, easily slipping into bitchface #564.
"You're not tired of hunting down halo patrol's nukes?" The quick answer to this question is no, no Dean is nottired of chasing after heaven's weapons. The truth, which he'll deny until hell freezes over, is that he really hopes Cas will drop in to help. The thought of those topaz eyes boring into him from mere inches away, communicating more in a single glance than he ever says aloud, soothes that persistant ache in his chest.
"Beats the hell out of laying around in this freakin' hotel room!" Dean drops the uneaten portion of his bagel onto the wooden tabel to his side, deciding that he chose a breakfast that's waytoo healthy. He rummages through their temporary fridge, tearing a box of pre-cooked bacon out and throwing the contents into the hotel's grungy excuse of a microwave. Sam shoots him a disapproving frown, affectionately nicknamed bitchface #1. The face that started it all.
"I've already retrieved the weapon in this town." Castiel's familiar gravelly voice resenates from behind the two Winchesters, making both of them jump.
"Jesus Cas!" The angel frowns at Dean's word choice, and the older hunter momentarily wonders if he's going to have to start numbering Castiel's faces, too. If so, the one plastered on him right now will be considered stoicface #1.
"You'd think we'd be used to him doing that by now." Sam muses to himself, knowing his words are falling on two sets of deaf ears. The two men's eyes meet, effectively erasing the rest of the world. Considering how intelligent both men are, they're really fucking oblivious. Sam rolls his eyes, slinking out of the makeshift kitchen.
Just like in his dream, Dean reaches one foot forward, jade eyes on Cas the whole time. Relief washes over him when nothing happens, and the urge to laugh bubbles in his chest. Of course nothing happened, it was just a dream! He shakes his head at himself, ashamed smile gracing his lips. Dean isn't much for 'chickflick moments' but the urge to touch Castiel is overpowering. He wanders towards the other man, itching to slap his back affectionately or something. Only to watch, shocked, as Castiel is very literally tugged backwards. The angel stumbles, surprise evident on his usually expressionless face.
"What the hell...?" Dean's hand reaches out on its own accord, though it proves to be pointless when Cas is yanked backwards once again. Comprehension settles in Castiel's sky-colored irises, quickly replaced with fear.
"Dean, stop! It's... God's will."
"Clearly he doesn't know who he's messing with, then." He can't stop the rebellious grin from spreading across his lips as he continues stalking towards Castiel, ignoring the voice yelling in the back of his mind that there are a million questions he should be asking. Dean follows as the angel staggers helplessly, until his back crashes into an ugly hotel wall with a dramatic thump. It's the weakest he's ever seen Castiel look. It's hard to take in, sympathy welling in Dean's core. But it's also one of the sexiest things Dean has ever seen. His hair is ruffled, dirty trenchcoat threatening to slip off of one arm. The black shirt underneath is also pushed wide open, revealing a final thin layer seperating greedy emerald eyes from that mysterious body.
"What's he going to do, pull you through a wall?" Dean jokes, hoping Cas doesn't notice the worry in his voice. Ignoring the possibility that God could very easily decide to destroy the hotel by dragging Cas through it, he closes the gap that God so desperately tried to maintain. Damn near chest to chest, Cas sporting that deer-in-headlights look, Dean swears that he feels the angel unsuccessfully hold back a shiver. Just like that, Cas is gone, letting a very confused Dean stumble forward into the now vacant wall. He runs a shaky hand down his face, mind racing to make sense of whatever the fuck it was that just happened.
But he can't think of anything other than the fear radiating off of the angel, and how it failed to mask the burning lust in those azure irises Dean can't get enough of.
Author's Note: This is pretty much a prologue, meant to make no sense whatsoever. :) I've taken a break from writing, so like always it may be kinda rough at first. This fic won't be very long(unless it gets away from me) BUT I initially wanted it to be a oneshot. So, I'm already planning on making it longer than it was supposed to be initially. We'll see what happens. Let me know what you think so far!
