Fluff, fluffy, fluff-fluff. No more, no less.

Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me.

The Winchesters roared into town a little past sunrise, stopping at a greasy spoon for some breakfast before they went to start their investigation. They reviewed the details of the case that brought them to town, as far as they knew them, while they ate.

"So we've got three bodies so far. All of them drowned, but nowhere near any water sources." Sam fussed over his egg white and spinach omelette as he spoke.

Dean crammed a whole piece of bacon in his mouth just to watch Sam squirm and added, "And nothing obvious linking them together."

Sam gave Dean a withering look, but answered, "No family or jobs in common, different genders, ages, and races. When we're done here, we can split up to start talking to the families."

They finished their meal, dropped some cash on the table, and drove to the nearest not-quite-roach-trap motel. After checking in, they carried their bags to the room and changed into their Fed suits.

Dean ducked into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and when he came out, Castiel was standing in the middle of the room looking a little lost.

"Hey, Cas," he greeted. "What's up?"

Cas exchanged a glance with Sam before replying, "Sam called. He said you needed assistance with your hunt?"

Dean shot his brother a dark look. "Oh, he did, did he?"

"We're splitting up, so it seemed like a good opportunity for Cas to get some practice in being a Fed. Fake it 'til you make it, right?" Sam explained innocently. He shouldered into his suit jacket and added, "The woman's family is just a couple blocks away. I can walk over there, then head to the library afterward to look for any history of suspicious deaths in the area. You guys take the car and talk to the other two families."

Sam grinned as he checked the magazine on his .45 and tucked it into his waistband at the small of his back. "Later!" he called as he slipped out the door.

Dean glared after him and huffed his annoyance. Sam had started doing crap like this a couple weeks ago, calling Cas for some bullshit reason, getting him to come help out on cases that definitely did not need angelic assistance. Not that Dean minded Cas hanging around, but it bugged him that Sam seemed to be doing it on purpose. And then leaving.

Asshat.

Cas was glancing between Dean and the door and looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Dean? Was Sam mistaken? Do you not need me?"

"Huh?" Dean brought his attention back to the room. "No, Cas, it's fine. I could use you. Your help. Use your help." He frowned. "You still got that badge I gave you?"

"We'll be FBI agents again?"

"Yeah. We'll talk to the families to see if we can figure out what connects the victims."

Cas looked so pleased, Dean had to smother a grin. If he was going to be saddled with him as a partner, at least it meant Cas seemed happy.

Dean gave the angel an appraising eye. Happy, maybe, but not very professional looking. He stepped in front of Cas to straighten his perpetually crooked tie. How did he even get it to twist like that?

Cas watched him curiously. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what? Fix your tie?" At Cas's nod, Dean said, "So you look like a Fed."

Cas didn't answer, but the little frown line between his brows didn't go away.

Dean finished fussing with the tie, then straightened Cas's collar. Much better. "Go fix your hair, then we can go."

The frown deepened.

"I mean go tidy it up. You look like you just rolled out of bed." And that was an image Dean didn't need tumbling around in his head. He stepped away to find his own tie.

He'd slung it around his neck and was just beginning to tie it when he turned around to find Cas still standing where he'd been, frowning at Dean like he'd just kicked a puppy. "What?"

"I don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"My hair is somehow unsatisfactory?"

Dean couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Naw, Cas, it's fine. It's just not very FBI."

Cas tilted his head to one side and asked, "Then how do I 'fix' it?"

With a chuckle, Dean dropped his tie, letting it hang loose around his neck. No wonder Cas always looked like he'd been taking a stroll through a hurricane. "In here," he said, as he walked into the bathroom.

Cas followed him in. The room seemed even more ridiculously small than it already was with both of them in there.

"All you gotta do is straighten it out. Use the mirror to see what you're doing," Dean explained, taking the opportunity to double-check his own hair.

With an uncertain glance at Dean in the mirror, Cas reached hesitantly up with one hand and dragged his fingers over the top of his head, mostly only succeeding in messing his hair up even more. Several tufts now stuck straight up at his crown.

Trying hard to keep a straight face so as not to hurt Cas's feelings, Dean offered, "Here, like this. Use your fingers like a comb."

He edged around in front of Cas and began combing his fingers through Cas's hair in little flicks, arranging the unruly strands into some semblance of order. He'd nearly finished when he realized Cas was watching his face rather than what was happening in the mirror.

When their eyes met, Dean stilled, abruptly aware of the tight confines of the dinky bathroom and Cas's resulting closeness. His senses sharpened the same way they did in a life-or-death fight, leaving every detail in crisp clarity. Cas's eyes, intense as always, seemed to see straight into his soul. His breath tickled against his skin. His body heat seemed to surround Dean, and mingled in with it, there was a faint scent he couldn't quite place, but it reminded him of thunderstorms. He pulled in a deep breath, trying to figure it out, but it was overpowered by the minty scent of the toothpaste he'd used earlier.

Cas's lips parted, and Dean watched them, wondering why he'd never noticed they were top-heavy like that.

"Dean?" Cas's roughened voice made his name sound downright lewd.

"Yeah?"

"Is it fixed?"

With a start, Dean belatedly realized he still had his fingers in Cas's hair. The whole situation should be mortifying, but somehow it just...wasn't. So instead of pulling his hands back, he continued combing through Cas's hair, maybe a little more gently than before. Cas kept staring right at him, too, but that wasn't weird, either. The room seemed charged, energy humming over his skin, and though Dean felt hyper-alert, he was also oddly at ease, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

At last, he smoothed the hair over Cas's ears. "There," he said. "That should do it."

Instead of pulling away, he dropped his hands down to Cas's tie again and fiddled with it, even though it didn't really need straightening anymore. He looked up to meet Cas's eyes. Damn, they were just so blue.

"Dean?" Was Cas's voice deeper than usual? Sure as hell seemed like it. "I don't believe I have enough experience with human style to be able to fix my hair convincingly. If you require my services with future hunts, you should do it for me."

Dean nodded, probably stupidly. "Sure, I can do that."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Cas's face as he continued on with his staring. Dean liked seeing him smile. It always felt like a victory he'd had to earn somehow.

"Am I sufficiently groomed to pass as a federal agent?" Cas asked.

Dean leaned back as far as he could, since there was no room to step, and gave Cas a once over. "Yeah, I think so," he said. "But you know what? Lose the trench coat."

Cas's expression dropped into a scowl. "Why?"

Instead of answering, Dean just made gimme motions with his outstretched hand.

"I like my coat," Cas grumbled, but he did as Dean asked, however reluctantly.

When Cas handed the coat over, Dean left the bathroom and tossed it onto the nearest chair. "You can have it back after we talk to the families."

But Dean's train of thought sort of derailed as he turned back to see Cas step out into the room. "Wow. Uh. You look sharp." It was odd as hell seeing him in just a suit. The overly large trench coat seemed so much a natural extension of Cas that being without it made him seem weirdly naked.

"Sharp?"

"Good. You look good," Dean explained. "Damn good, actually."

That hint of a smile reappeared, and something warm spread through Dean's chest.

"Should we go?" Cas asked.

Disappointment cooled the warmth in a hurry. He looked away, breaking their gaze. The case. Right. "Yeah, I s'pose."

Dean reached up, fingers deftly knotting his tie on autopilot. He grabbed his jacket from the bed, but as he turned around to put it on, Cas was right in front of him. He reached out and touched Dean's tie, hesitantly rubbing the fabric between his thumb and fingers.

"Would you show me how to do that?" he asked.

Cas's fingers brushing against his chest left Dean momentarily mute as shivers raced over his skin. He dropped his jacket back on the bed and coughed lightly to find his voice again. "Uh, how to tie a tie?"

Cas looked up, blue eyes blazing into Dean's. "Yes. Mine is often...askew."

Dean nodded, his mouth dry. "Right. Um. Yeah, sure." He swallowed thickly.

Years ago, Dean had been the one to teach Sammy to knot a tie. It was a fond memory for Dean since Sam had been getting ready to go out on his first date. He didn't know if it was nerves or what, but poor Sam had struggled to get it right, messing it up over and over again, and getting more frustrated with each attempt.

Dean smiled as that long-gone moment flashed through his mind. "Come here," he told Cas as he undid his tie and sat on the corner of the motel bed.

"Here," he said, hooking a thumb to gesture behind him. "It's easier if you can see it from your own perspective. Look over my shoulder and watch what I do."

Cas hitched one knee onto the bed and settled close behind him, sitting on his heel to raise him up enough to see over Dean's shoulder. "I'm watching."

Another shiver went down Dean's spine at Cas's voice rumbling in his ear. Not daring to look back, Dean tried not to feel flustered by the warmth of the body behind him. Or by the whisper of breath on the side of his neck. Or by that damn rainstorm smell.

"So you start with the fat end longer than you think you need or else you end up with social kryptonite." Dean had to focus hard on the task of making the knot, explaining what he was doing as he showed Cas the over, around, up and through. He managed to get through it without fucking up the knot, despite his suddenly fumbling fingers.

"And when you want to take it off, you loosen it like this and pull the skinny end all the way out," he finished, undoing the tie again. "Ta da! Now you try."

Dean's breathing had a bit of a spasm when Cas shifted even closer behind him, his arms snaking around Dean's shoulders. He'd expected Cas to practice tying his own tie, but instead, he picked up both ends of Dean's, sliding it back and forth to find the right balance of length.

Dean's pulse pounded in his ears. Cas was talking his way through tying the knot, repeating the instructions as he went, but Dean didn't hear. He turned his head slightly to peek at the angel leaning close over his shoulder. Cas's face was intense in his focus, as though he were defusing a bomb instead of tying a tie. He was so close. If Dean moved even an inch, he could brush Cas's cheek with his nose.

Or his lips.

Dean looked down quickly. The way his cheeks were burning, he had to be blushing like a freaking schoolgirl. But once he looked away from Cas's distracting profile, instead of regaining his control, he ended up lost in everything else that was Cas. His fingers bumping Dean's chest as he worked at the knot. His arms brushing Dean's shoulders as he reached around. His chest rubbing up against Dean's back. Oh, god – Cas at his back, pressing close behind him, arms around him, gripping tight, sweating, skin touching hot and slick, grinding, stretching, rutting, needing-

"That's not right," Cas grumbled.

Dean sucked in a breath and blinked furiously, forcing himself back to reality. He looked down. The two sides of his tie were sort of spiraled around each other, but Cas had clearly missed a step somewhere in there.

"No worries." Fuck, his voice was all strangled and weird. "Just try again."

Cas pressed close again, reaching around to pick up the tie, but this time Dean brought his hands up and placed them gently over Cas's. For a moment, neither of them seemed to breathe. Then Cas started working through the steps again, Dean guiding his fingers along the way. When the knot was successfully completed, Cas took his hands away, but stayed right behind Dean.

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean turned again, this time finding Cas looking back, blue eyes blazing. So fucking blue. And so close. He was right there. Cas was right there.

Dean shoved all his thoughts aside and moved, crossing that lonely inch separating them. Heart pounding and cheeks flaming, he kissed Cas. He fucking kissed Cas.

And damned if Cas didn't kiss him right back – his technique was a little lacking, but it was earnest and sweet. And besides, it was Cas, so of course it was good.

It was fucking fantastic.

They separated enough for their eyes to meet, and Dean got completely lost in that blue gaze again.

"Uh, hey, guys," Sam's voice came from the door of the room that Dean hadn't even heard open.

He startled back from Cas, but the angel's grip on his neatly tied tie prevented him from getting very far. "Sam!"

"No, don't get up!" Sam held up a leather ID case. "I just forgot my badge is all. Don't mind me. Heyyy, why don't I take care of the interviews for you? Then I'll be at the library the rest of the day. Allllll day."

The giant bastard snatched up Dean's car keys and left with a smug smirk on his stupid face.

Dean wasn't sure if he was more embarrassed or indignant. But then Cas tugged on his tie, drawing his attention away from Sam and the receding sound of the Impala's engine, and it didn't matter any more.

"So no FBI interviews today, then," Cas said.

"Apparently not."

Cas graced him with one of his gentle smiles. "Perhaps I should practice untying ties now."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, warmth spreading again through his insides as he returned the smile. "You should do that."